tall shower of spray high into the air and churning out loose rock and
gravel.
'Come on!' Nicholas pleaded with the machine. 'Come on! You can do it.'
The engine beat faltered again as she starved for fuel.
She spluttered and coughed, and almost stalled.
'Please!' Nicholas begged her aloud. 'One more try.' Almost as if it had
heard him, the engine fired again, ran unevenly for a few moments, and
then abruptly bellowed at full power again.
That's it, my beauty,' Nicholas yelled, as it lurched hammered against
the wall.
an With a sound like a cannon shot the log snapped and the top end of it
flew out of the wall, leaving a long, deep hole through which the river
poured triumphantly, a thing -'solid column of dirty grey water.
'Thar she blows!' Nicholas shouted, jumping down from the driver's seat.
He knew there was not enough time left for him to drive the tractor out
of the river bed. He could move more quickly on his own feet.
The current seized his legs, trying to pull them out from under him. It
was like one of those childhood nightmares when monsters were pursuing
him and, despite his every effort, his legs would only move in slow
motion.
He glanced back over his shoulder, and at that instant he saw the
central section of the dam wall burst, blowing outward in a violent
eruption of furious waters. He struggled on another few paces towards
the bank before the deep and turbulent tide picked him up. He was
helpless in its grip. It swept him away, over the waterfall and down,
down into the hungry maw of the chasm.
these are the royal crook and sceptre of the Pharaoh,' cried von
Schiller in a voice that was gusty and faint with emotion as he lifted
them out of the cedarwood chest.
'And this is his false beard and his ceremonial pectoral Wo, emblem.'
Nahoot knelt beside him on the floor of the tomb under the great statue
of Osiris. All the ill feelings between them were forgotten in the
wonder of the moment as they examined the fabulous treasures of Egypt.
'This is the greatest archaeological discovery of all time,' von
Schiller whispered, his voice tremulous. He pulled his handkerchief from
his pocket and dabbed at the perspiration of excitement that trickled
down his cheeks.
'There is years of work here,' Nahoot told him seriously. 'This
incredible collection will have to be catalogued and evaluated. It will
be known for ever as the von Schiller hoard. Your name will be
perpetuated for all time.
it is like the Egyptian dream of immortality. You will never be
forgotten. You will live for ever.'
A rapturous expression crossed von Schiller's features.
He had not considered' that possibility. Up until this moment he had not
considered sharing this treasure with anybody, except in his particular
way with Utte Kemper, but Nahoot's words had awakened in him the old
impossible dream of eternity. Perhaps he might make arrangements for it
to be made accessible to the public - but only after his own death,
naturally.
