"Now what the devil will be the next step?" queried Stoddard, when the last of the pigmies had gone.
Professor Prescott considered for a moment, before replying.
"I don't think there will be any next step, except our cremation," he said at length.
"Cremation?" gasped his young friend. "What do you mean, cremation?"
"Just this. Don't you see where we are? Right under the Thunderbolt! Well?"
"Simple enough, Jack." The professor's tone was grave. "When dawn comes, and the rising sun strikes that--"
"Good God!" Stoddard suddenly understood. "Why, we'll be cooked alive--frizzled!"
It was only too true. Even now, the pale rays of the moon, concentrated by the myriad facets of that monumental diamond, were beginning to focus on them a warmth that was uncomfortable. And by morning--!
The two men crouched there silent, realizing their desperate plight. They _must_ escape, before the sun rose. But how?
Studying their bonds, they discovered that they were of rawhide of some sort, obviously from the hides of animals these strange people caught on the lower slopes somewhere. But though they strained and twisted, they could not stretch them, the leather evidently having been cured to a marvelous toughness in these high altitudes.
Precious minutes ticked by as they struggled there, but they were unable to extricate themselves.
But before the end of a half-hour, Stoddard managed to free one arm, and reaching into his jacket he drew forth a small, compact metal object--his cigarette lighter.
Twirling the wheel, while Professor Prescott held his breath, he succeeded in kindling a flame on its tiny wick.
If only he could reach the thongs with it! If only he could burn them through and free himself and the professor before any of the pigmies re-entered that lethal chamber!
Wrenching around now, he applied the flame to his left wrist, which was still bound. As the living fire touched his flesh, he winced with pain, but almost anything was better than the grisly fate that threatened.
Slowly, a little at a time, he endured the torture, straining at each application to see if the thongs would yield.
"Here, let me try it once!" called out Professor Prescott, as he cried aloud with the agony of the ordeal.