The girls noticed that many of the women wore ring ornaments looped through one nostril. Jahan said that these were comparable to the wedding rings worn by Western women. Here and there
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squatted yellow-robed Buddhist monks, holding out their required begging bowls.
Lamas, or temple priests, with drooping mustaches strolled along spinning small cylinders, called prayer wheels, mounted atop their staffs. The cylinders, Jahan explained, held written prayers which were believed to be wafted up to heaven by the spinning.
Tom was scanning the shop signs. Presently the carriage passed one which bore a name, both in English and in Hindi: chullagar trading company. Tom asked the driver to stop. After making a hasty excuse to Prince Jahan and the girls, he and Bud jumped out.
“This is the outfit that Mr. Mukerji said ships him goods from Vishnapur,” the young inventor reminded his pal. “Someone at this end must be part of the spy plot.”
To their surprise, the shop was locked. A woman, red-eyed from weeping, answered their knock. She told the boys her husband had been arrested the night before by Prince Gopal’s security police. She did not know why.
Bud said to Tom, “Gopal must have hauled him in for questioning to find out how that Kali pin turned up in Bombay.” Tom nodded thoughtfully.
That afternoon the Americans witnessed an archery contest and visited several temples and
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shrines. The next day Sandy and Phyl were invited to accompany the Rani to several public functions, so Tom proposed to Prince Jahan that he and his fellow trainees take a sightseeing flight with him and Bud over Vishnapur in the Sky Queen. Jahan was delighted.
The sleek silver craft took off from the airfield and headed northward. Tom and Bud were amazed at the gorgeous variety of the scenery. Rice-terraced slopes rose upward from valleys strewn with lush tropical forests. At higher levels, the slopes flattened into bleak plateaus, slashed by breath-taking gorges.
Here and there could be seen a lonely hilltop monastery or a mud-walled mountain village.
In the distance ghostly, snow-capped peaks soared against the sky. Jahan pointed to the most majestic, murmuring, “That is Chogyal.”
Presently they passed over a broad, treeless valley. In the midst of the valley floor lay a dark-green lake. A line of moving specks indicated a train of pack mules, but otherwise there was no sign of human life or habitation.
Tom was struck by the stark loneliness of the scene, “Boy, there’s a grim-looking spot!”
“Grim indeed, my friend-that lake is poisonous,” said Jahan. “It is the Lake of Kali.”
Kali! Tom and Bud exchanged startled glances.
“What makes the lake poisonous?” Bud asked.
Prince Jahan shrugged. “I do not know, but as
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you see, no vegetation can exist near it. Were it not for the lake, this valley could be turned into rich farmland to feed many of our people.”
Tom was curious to know more. He landed near the lake, then scooped up a sample of the murky water in a bottle. Using a Swift spectroscope and a gas chromatograph, he analyzed it aboard the Flying Lab. The test showed an organic substance containing chlorine, carbon, and nitrogen.
“So the poison must be due to some plant growth in the water, rather than minerals in the soil,” he told Prince Jahan.
By now, the pack caravan with its tinkling bells was approaching the Sky Queen. The native mule drivers, awed by the huge plane, halted to chat with Tom’s party.
One, whose remarks were translated by Gyong, told of seeing a weird monster enter and rise from the lake at night 1
“Yes, yes, Sahibs,” said another muleteer. “Many spirits aboutl Sometimes they make fountains of fire rise from the mountains!”
CHAPTER X
SKY SHOW
FOUNTAINS of fire! Once again Tom shot a startled glance at Bud. This sounded suspiciously like rocket launching!
Tom asked the mule driver, “You see this fire only at night?”
“Yes, Sahib.” The bare-legged, wool-capped mountaineer nodded vigorously.
“The fire shoots up high, high in the sky!”
“Sounds like a spaceship going up,” Bud muttered.
“Right. This might be a clue to the base of the mysterious rocket ship!” Aloud he asked the driver, “Where do you see this fire?”
The man pointed to the north. “Near the flanks of Chogyal. Maybe the mountain god is lighting the sky for his festival-eh, Sahib?”
Rakshi had come over and broke in sneeringly,
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“A fine story-fountains of fire in the sky and a monster in the lake! Now you can see what we shall have to contend with if we ever hope to educate these ignorant fools.”
“Folk stories often have some truth in them,” Tom said. “Even in Scotland, they talk about a monster being seen in Loch Ness.” Turning to Gyong, the young inventor added, “Please ask the other man to tell us more about this lake monster.”
Gyong did so and then translated the reply. “He says it is huge-big enough to devour a man. Its coat is scaly and it has two round glittering eyes. Sometimes it walks on its hind legs and sometimes crawls on all fours.”
Prince Jahan looked at Tom quizzically. “You seem very much interested in the Lake of Kali. Since you took the trouble to analyze the poison, perhaps you have something in mind?”
“Not exactly,” Tom answered. “Tell me-does this lake ever overflow its banks in the rainy season?”
The mule drivers and the student engineers agreed that this never happened.
“In that case, the lake probably isn’t spring-fed,” Tom deduced. “More likely it’s connected with an underground river system in such a way that hydrostatic pressure keeps the lake from ever rising above its normal level. Jahan, would you allow me to bring over a geologist to make 86 POLAR-RAY DYNASPHERE
soundings? There might be a way to purify this lake.”
Jahan’s eyes shone. “Of course! If this region could be made livable, I could turn the valley into a model farmland!”
“Whoal Slow down!” Tom smiled. “I have a wild idea, that’s all. It may not work out, so let’s not even talk about it yet.”
As they flew back to Chullagar, Tom radioed Enterprises. He told his father about the strange poison lake and asked that an expert be sent over at once to make Geophone soundings.
“I think I know just the man for the job, son. I’ll get in touch with him right away,” Mr. Swift promised. “Incidentally, Harlan Ames has a report for you on Hugh Mortlake. Hold on.”
Ames’s voice came over the receiver. “Mortlake’s story checks out, skipper.
The Vroom Museum says he has worked on their staff for ten years and is one of the country’s leading authorities on Indian and Oriental art.”
Tom thanked Ames and signed off. During the rest of the flight he puzzled silently over the mystery. Who had put the Kali pin in Mortlake’s luggage and why? Tom had no clues.
In a short while the young inventor prepared to land at the Chullagar airfield.
On their way to the palace, he and Bud noticed that the town was decked with flowers and painted effigies of gods and demons.
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“Tomorrow is Chogyal’s main feast day,” Jahan explained. “There will be a great procession and at night a dazzling display of fireworks.”
Tom said nothing to the others, but later he returned to the Sky Queen and made another radio call to Enterprises. His face wore a big grin as he planned for an addition to the evening’s entertainment.
That evening Tom sat next to Prince Gopal at dinner. “I hear you wish to bring a geologist from America,” Gopal said politely, “to locate the water source of the Lake of Kali.”
“Yes. Prince Jahan has given his permission.”
“And when you have found the source, what then? You have plans to purify the lake?”
Tom shrugged. “There might be a way to bring in fresh water. But I really can’t tell yet.”
“Most interesting,” Gopal murmured. “But I must warn you that many of our people are fearful and superstitious. The Lake of Kali is already an object of dread. To tamper with it might provoke serious trouble.”
“I’m not sure I understand.” Tom frowned.
Gopal said, “There is great unrest. The Rajah cannot afford to displease the people.”
Tom stared in surprise at the dewan. “You mean there might be a revolution?
But Prince Jahan seems very popular with his subjects.”
“Appearances are deceiving. There are always hotheads eager to stir up trouble.”
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“I see.” Tom nodded thoughtfully. “I’ll remember what you’ve told me, sir.”
The great Festival of Chogyal began the next morning with the grand final archery tournament. The Rajah, with his court and guests, watched from under silk canopies.
First the archers paraded onto the field, bearing gay-colored flags on poles and wearing knee-length kimonos. Each man bowed low before the Rajah and Rani. The archers were followed by priests who blessed the field, bows, arrows, and targets. Then heralds blew blasts on six-foot trumpets and the contest began.