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precious jewel, he loosened the oiled-silk wrappings and showed a large map, on thin but tough paper.
“This is drawn from the old charts,” the professor explained. “I worked on it many months, and it is the only copy in the world. If it were to be destroyed I should have to go all the way back to New York to make another copy. I have the original there in a safe deposit vault.”
“Wouldn’t it have been wise to make two copies?” asked Tom.
“It would have only increased the risk. With one copy, and that constantly in my possession, I can be sure of my ground. Otherwise not. That is why I am so careful of this. Now I will show you why I believe we are about over the ancient city of Kurzon.”
“Over it!” cried Mr. Damon. “Bless my gunpowder! What do you mean?” and he looked down at the earthen floor of the tent as though expecting it to open and swallow him.
“I mean that the city, like many others of Central and South America, is buried below the refuse of centuries,” went on the professor. “Very soon, if we are fortunate, we shall be looking on the civilization of hundreds of years ago — how long no one knows.
“Considerable excavation has been done in
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Central America,” went on Professor Bumper, “and certain ruins have been brought to light. Near us are those of Copan, while toward the frontier are those of Quirigua, which are even better preserved than the former. We may visit them if we have time. But I have reason to believe that in this section of Copan is a large city, the existence of which has not been made certain of by any one save myself — and, perhaps, Professor Beecher.