where he could lay hold of a projecting bit of rock and shin himself
up on to the top of the nose.

"Look out he doesn't think you are a fly and try to brush you off,"
laughed Harry from below.

"No danger of that," shouted back Frank, "unless I lit on him in the
Golden Eagle."

The surface of the face was as remarkable as its profile.

Apparently some forgotten tribe had at some time or other been
struck by the facial outline of the rocks and had cut into the flat
surface, which was upturned to the sky, eyes and a mouth, the latter
well provided with teeth, in each of which was drilled a tiny
triangular hole.

While Frank was puzzling over the meaning of these apertures there
came a repetition of the weird cry, but this time the lad was so
startled that he almost lost his balance and fell backward.

The call seemed to proceed from his very feet. Then, all at once,
he realized what it was.

The strange sounds proceeded from the mouth of the stone face.

Frank ran to the edge of the steep declivity that formed the nose.

"Say, Harry, and you too, Ben, examine the surface below there very
carefully for any holes. They will probably be small ones and in a