ng Shadow's men, too. I'll bet he was the one
who put the finger on us. He must have heard us ask for Chahda. Long
Shadow and his men knew Chahda, of course, and they would certainly try
to get rid of reinforcements like us."

"Right," Zircon agreed. "Perhaps the fault was ours in not waiting for
Charlie to tell us himself, although I don't see how we could have
known."

"I think that is it," Chahda said. "Charlie is a friend. So the men on
the junk with purple sails were Long Shadow's, and you plenty lucky you
get out with your skins, believe me."

Zircon rubbed his chin. "Chahda, our instructions from Bradley were to
bring a rubber boat and a Nansen bottle. That must mean the heavy water
source has something to do with a lake or river. Is that true?"

"Don't know about those things," Chahda said. "I know only that the
heavy water comes from a place near here. I know how to get there and I
will take you. I do not think we will like this place much. It has a bad
name."

"What kind of bad name?" Scotty asked.

"In English," Chahda said, "it is 'The Caves of Fear'!"

CHAPTER XIII

The Black Buddha

Long ago, according to the tale Chahda had heard from his Indian
Buddhist friends in the monastery, a High Lama and some of the chief
priests of Korse Lenken forsook their vows and went in for piracy with
the monastery as headquarters.

For years they flourished, robbing travelers and even swooping down on
Chinese cities across the border. The name of Korse Lenken was known
throughout the East as a place of terror. Between attacks, the High Lama
and his priests made mockery of the religion of Buddhism that they were
sworn to uphold, and they built a huge caricature of Buddha, all in
black and with the face of a demon.

Then, went the legend, as they dedicated the great statue to the hordes
of the mountain underworld, the Lord Buddha himself appeared in the sky
and stretched his hands over them. The vast multitude of robbers fell to
their knees and lifted their hands for mercy. And Lord Buddha, the
gentle and merciful, gave them mercy. His voice rang through the
mountains like the winds of heaven: "Live! Live unharmed. But live in
fear! It is written."

Buddha, so went the legend, then vanished. A great wind sighed through
the valley, and bolts of light flashed from heaven. It grew black, black
as the darkest night. And when the blackness cleared and the wind died,
new mountains stood where the High Lama