Curse of the Ruins

by Gary Paulsen

  The thief motioned to the door. “Go take care of that, Zamora. I’ll keep an eye on her.”

  The big man set Katie down and walked out of the tent. Instantly she heard a loud thud and the sound of someone falling.

  The thief grabbed Katie’s arm. He held her in front of him and forced her through the tent flap.

  Outside there was no sign of anyone.

  “Zamora? Where are you?” the thief called out.

  “It’s the ghosts of the Indians who used to live here.” Katie tried to pull away. “They got him.”

  “Let the girl go, Señor Vasquez. You are surrounded.”

  Katie’s eyes widened. She didn’t see anyone, but she recognized the voice of the police sergeant from San Marcos.

  “Show yourself,” Vasquez called. “Perhaps we can make a trade. The map for the girl.”

  “Look up there.” Katie pointed to the ledge. The old Indian was standing there, right in front of the hidden opening, but from below, it looked as if he were floating in air. “I told you—it’s a ghost!”

  Vasquez stared. He blinked and then aimed his gun at the Indian. Katie elbowed him in the stomach as hard as she could. The gun fell from his hand.

  The police sergeant rushed from behind a boulder and kicked the weapon away. He held his gun on the thief. “Don’t move.”

  Sam scrambled out from behind a creosote bush. “Katie, are you all right?”

  “I’m fine.” She watched the sergeant tie up the thief. “But how—”

  “You have me to thank, señorita.” Pepe stepped around the tent. “I told my uncle Francisco that you were going to the ruins. It was he who suggested following you just in case you ran into trouble. And when I heard the sound of motorcycles, I was sure you would need my help also.”

  “The police sergeant is your uncle?” Katie demanded. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

  “You did not ask,” Pepe said, shrugging.

  The sergeant winked at her as he marched his second captive to a flat rock and ordered him to sit.

  “Hey, everybody,” Shala yelled down from the opening. “Look who I found.”

  Katie covered her eyes and squinted up. Her breath caught in her throat.

  The bandaged face of her father peered down at her.

  CHAPTER 13

  Katie brought her father a second cup of coffee from the machine in the police station’s lobby. He gave her a warm smile and then went on with his story.

  “I was suspicious of Vasquez and Zamora right from the start. They didn’t seem to know much about archaeology, and yet they claimed to be the advance team sent down by the government to help me on the El Debajo dig. It was Isaac here who told me what they were up to.”

  The tall Indian stood nearby with his arms folded. He nodded at the professor and talked to him in sign language.

  “You see, Isaac is a descendant of the original cliff dwellers. Unfortunately, he can’t speak, but that didn’t stop him from being very concerned about the way the digging at the ruins would be handled. When he overheard those two imposters talking about exploiting the burial caves and stealing the artifacts, Isaac gave me his great-grandfather’s map for safekeeping.”

  “And then you carved a copy of it on my money pouch and sent it to me so the crooks wouldn’t get it.” Katie held the pouch out for the sergeant to see.

  “Right. Only at the time, I had no idea how desperate those two really were. They believed the old stories about the rivers of gold.” The professor touched the bandages on his head. “One night they ambushed me, tied me up, and left me in a ditch. If it hadn’t been for Isaac, I might not have made it. He carried me to the hidden burial tunnels and took care of my wounds. I was delirious for several days.”

  “What about the legend?” Sam asked. “Are there really underground caverns of gold near the ruins?”

  “It’s doubtful. But Isaac says there are miles of hand-dug tunnels. And the cliff dwellers were known to bury certain items they considered valuable with their dead. If we can find some of them it could help us understand their culture better. When I feel a little stronger, we’ll take Katie’s map and go exploring.”

  “I am glad to see that you are recovering, Professor.” The sergeant put down his pen and notepad. “Your children and nephew were quite worried about you.”

  “I know. I just wish I had found out about Vasquez and Zamora in time to warn them. If I had been paying better attention, maybe I could have prevented all this from happening.”

  “Oh, they were never in any real danger, señor,” Pepe said pleasantly. “I was taking very good care of them.”

  “He sure was,” Sam said sarcastically. “For a price.”

  Pepe looked hurt. “Are you saying that you are dissatisfied with my work? Did I not do everything you asked?”

  “And then some.” Shala patted Pepe on the shoulder. “Bringing your uncle to the ruins was beyond the call of duty.”

  “It sure was,” Katie assured him. “Without you, those two thieves might have gotten away with their rotten plan. Isn’t that right, Sam?”

  “Okay. I guess we do owe him. How much is it going to cost me this time?” Sam reached into his back pocket. “My wallet. It’s gone!”

  “Looking for this?” Pepe grinned and dangled the wallet in front of him. “My friend, you already paid for the donkeys and also gave your trustworthy guide a very unselfish tip.”

  “How nice of me.” Sam grabbed the wallet. “Do I have anything left?”

  “Enough. Of course I would be glad to help you spend the rest. It so happens, I have an aunt who makes the finest enchiladas and menudo in all New Mexico.” Pepe moved to the door. “I will take you there. It will cost you practically nothing.”

  “Enchiladas sound great.” Katie winked at her dad and Shala. “I am so lucky to have such a wise and generous older brother.”

  Professor Crockett scratched his head. “Am I missing something here?”

  Sam looked into his wallet and sighed. “No, Dad—it looks like I’m the one who’s missing something.”

  THE CLIFF DWELLERS

  In the southwestern United States and northern Mexico, evidence still stands of ancient peoples who built their villages high in the faces of sheer canyon walls. These ancient Indians are now called the Anasazi, which means “the ancient ones.”

  Almost every facet of the cliff dwellers’ lives was conducted high above the canyon floor. Families slept and stored their possessions in small, cell-like rooms, which opened onto a common courtyard. Here they held religious ceremonies, worked, cooked, ate, and played. The cliff dwellers grew crops, hunted, and searched for roots and berries. Water was a problem; they had to carry it from springs below their homes and store it in jars.

  Hundreds of people could live in the cliff dwellings, which were easy to defend from outside attack. Shouts of warning that enemies were entering the canyon echoed loudly off the rock walls. And when the ladders and ropes to the cliff dwellings’ entrances were lifted, the only way to reach them was by handholds and footholds carved into the sides of the sandstone walls.

  The Anasazi felt safe in their cliff fortresses, but drought and new enemies eventually drove them from their caves, and they moved south and east. Their descendants can be found among the present-day Pueblo Indians.

  Don’t miss all the exciting action!

  Read the other action-packed books in Gary Paulsen’s

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  Deep underground, Will and Sarah uncover an old chest stuffed with a million dollars. But
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  Devil’s Wall.

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  As the Rock Jockeys explore Devil’s Wall, they stumble upon the plane’s battered shell. Inside, they find items that seem to have belonged to the crew, including a diary written by the navigator. Spud later falls into a deep hole and finds something even more frightening: a human skull and bones. To find out where they might have come from, the boys read the navigator’s story in the diary. It reveals a gruesome secret that heightens the dangers the mountain might hold for the Rock Jockeys.

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  Roman knows time is running out. Now he must somehow put his dad’s death behind him so that he and the others can launch a last desperate fight for freedom.

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  Chosen One,

  The ancient palace lies in the Valley of Zon. It is imperative that you come immediately. You are my last hope. Look for the secret path. The stars will lead the way. Take care. The eyes of Mogg are everywhere.

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  Justin swallowed and pointed the light at the soft dirt. The tracks were plain: two large pads with five long scissorlike claws on each.

  A grizzly.

  A grizzly bear is terrorizing the sheep ranch that belongs to Justin McCallister’s aunt and uncle. First the grizzly takes a swipe at the ranch’s guard dog, Old Molly. Then he kills several sheep and injures Justin’s collie, Radar. When the grizzly kills Blue, Justin’s pet lamb, Justin decides to take matters into his own hands. He sets out to track down the bear himself. But what will Justin do when he comes face to face with the grizzly?

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