Primal Spillane: Early Stories 1941-1942

The Curse of Tut Ken Amen

“He who violates my tomb will die!”

So read the ancient tablet set in the brown stone above the sand-swept doorway of the age-old crypt. Pete Venner regarded it soberly then turned to the little old man at his side. “Well, Prof, this is it! We spent a lot of time searching for the old boy’s grave, but... now I don’t like the idea of going much further!”

Professor Hamilton grinned a little. “Don’t tell me that, young feller! You’re as anxious as I am to break through! Get the natives and we’ll start working. What lays before us is history, my boy, the history of Egypt long dead, and the written word of it is in the hand of the mummy of Tut Ken Amen! Let’s go!”

Pete ran up the loose incline to the level of the desert. His eyes swept the camp site, but not a living creature moved among the tents that were idly flapping in the hot breeze. For a moment his breath caught in his throat. True, there was a curse on the persons who opened the tomb, but it was pure nonsense, any educated person knew that!

Ever since the directions on the time-worn papyrus led the party to this desolate spot they worked under a continual strain. The natives were a superstitious bunch, ready to flee at the slightest thing. And this was it. The day before, the brown-skinned men dug through the sand until the flat sands of the desert held a wound twenty feet deep, and it was then that the shovel of one of them hit the stone door that had held behind it centuries of mysteries!

Like ants they had poured out of the excavation! One look at that inscription was all they needed. He and Hamilton went down at once, and decided to wait for a new day before going any further... And now, the instant they were out of sight, the workers took to the hills in the distance.

Pete leaned over the hole and called to the professor. “We’re out of luck, Professor, the boys are gone. From here on we’re on our own!”

“I should have expected that, but it’s too late now. Grab a pick ax and we’ll do the honors ourselves.”

Pete gathered up the tool and slid down the slope. Professor Hamilton took the pick and together they torn into the stone. Hours passed; the sun rose high in the heavens. Great beads of perspiration stood out on their foreheads as they battered without stop at the last barrier to their long quest.

Then, a mighty stroke of Pete’s ax tore through the stone and completely dislodged it! Quick as cats they leaped back from the tons of stone that rained down.

“Wow,” Pete said, “That was close! The curse almost came true!”

“And that wasn’t accidental, either.” Hamilton added. “That sealed doorway was constructed to come down on the person who tried to dig his way in! It’s not a curse we have to be afraid of, but the tricks a smart king dreamed up to kill anyone who dared to go after his secrets! From now on we’ll be on our toes!”

Ahead of them the black hole of the tomb loomed ominously, a dank foreboding place of death. The pair could smell the foul air that was seeping out of the cavity, and before entering strapped on odd-looking masks. To breathe this air might mean death, and the end was too near to take chances. With flashlights in hand Pete nodded to the professor, and together they stepped over the debris and into the inky blackness of the tomb.

At once they were in another world. Outside was desert and a blistering sun... here they walked amid the trappings of ancient kings, deep in the cool bowels of the earth! Their lamps threw light over things that had been in darkness for thousands of years. Eagerly, they explored the odd furnishings, then... Pete stopped dead in his tracks. There on the floor before him was a grotesque heap of human bones!

His light shook. Hamilton ran over to see what the matter was, and nodded at the grim sight.

“Slaves,” he muttered softly. “Killed to prevent them from divulging the burial ground.”

Pete shuddered. The professor tapped him on the arm. “I found a doorway, follow me.” They walked between the mouldy wooden chairs to a small opening in the wall. It had been hidden behind a portrait, but the professor had uncovered it.

Not a sound marred the deathly silence. They walked into another room of huge proportions. At one end was a throne, empty, and they walked toward it. In front was a table, set as if for a feast, but those that sat about the table were the crumpled shells of what once were men. Pete gasped. “More of them!” The professor went over to inspect them, poking at them with his flashlight.

“They were part of the funeral procession. The last noble act of their king was to give them poisoned food. In all probability there was but one man who left here alive... the king’s advisor! For a few moments they stared at the ghastly scene, then the professor spoke. “I can’t make this out.”

“What do you mean?”

“This room seems to be the last one. Some place around here is a hidden door, but I can’t see it. Let’s give it a try, anyway. You take the other side and I’ll take this. Tap those walls carefully!”

In the bright light of the flashes, Pete and the Professor circled the room, tapping every inch of the wall. They knew that the mummy was here somewhere, the job was finding it! But, their search was to no avail.

After an hour had passed each came to the blind end in front of the throne. Then it happened! With a squeak of dried wood and the rumbling of ancient mechanism the floor gave way beneath them, plunging them into Stygian darkness! They landed in a heap on the stone floor, many feet below the level above, their breaths wooshed out of them. Pete scrambled to his feet quickly, snapped on his light, and helped the professor up.

“Well, Pete, we’re done for! This was the trap I meant to look out for. I should have known better then to stand in front of the throne. By the time we get out of this, if we do get out... the sand will have filled in the entrance.

“We’ve been trapped very nicely... and by a dead man!”

“THE heck we are!” Pete growled fiercely. “There’s no dead man living that can get the better of me! Come on, let’s look around!”

The place was stone-walled. Not even a beetle moved about on the cold floor. The sides were vertical, smooth as glass. There was no chance of climbing those walls. Unlike the rooms above, this one was bare of furnishings. Apparently it was but a pit to trap the unwary! But then... Pete’s sharp eyes noticed a strange thing. There in the floor were two identical marks, as if made by a ladder that had borne a great weight.

He motioned to Hamilton. “Look here, Professor, do you make the same thing out of this that I do?”

The professor gasped.

“Ye gods, ladder marks! The mummy room must be off this!”

Immediately they got to work, and in a moment, by sheer chance, they hit it! A slight indentation marked the secret doorway. Running his fingers over the stone, the Professor touched a concealed spring and a door swung wide. There before their widened eyes, resting on a stone slab, was a sarcophagus of the dead king. This they were sure of, for it was inlaid with precious stones in a royal purple setting!

Only for a moment were they still, then with a little cry they jumped forward to inspect their treasure. The lid raised under their eager fingers and for the first time in many centuries, human eyes looked upon Tut Ken Amen! His body was wound tightly with what were once white strips of cloth, and in the stiffened hands was a sheaf of papers. The written history of ancient Egypt!

Suddenly the two grew rigid... although their find was one of the world’s greatest... it was useless, for they were as good as dead!

Dead, did we say? Not so, for already Pete’s agile mind was planing a way out. For a moment he talked earnestly to Professor Hamilton, then they got busy. Lifting the shriveled body from its resting place, they laid it gently on the floor. Then, getting a good hold, they dragged the mummy case from the slab, letting it thump, to the ground.

It was a hard task, and time passed swiftly, but with their lives at stake, neither paid any attention to its passage. At any moment the chemicals in their masks might give out, allowing the poisonous air to filter into their lungs. Through the open doorway they dragged the huge case, and set it up against the wall. Then the cover was hauled into position. Standing on top of the bottom of the case, Pete lifted the lid so that it stood on top. The way was clear, but the slightest misstep would spoil every bit of their efforts, for it was balanced precariously.

Pete helped the professor up, bracing their crude ladder. Using the designs on the casket as hand-holds, Hamilton reached the top. Then, stretching himself to the utmost, he grasped the floor edge above and pulled himself to safety. Pete followed at once, climbing very carefully. When he was within reach, the Professor grabbed his arms and yanked. They had defeated the curse!

Quickly they made their way to the opening, and stood breathing the fresh air and enjoying the sunlight without speaking for a full five minutes. The sun was low over the horizon, and coming up. They had been in the tomb a whole night!

Pete turned and grinned at Hamilton. “Kind of thought we wouldn’t make it there for a while. What now?”

“Let’s go get something to eat. I’m starved,” the professor said. “We’ll come back later and get the old boy out. I don’t think he’ll run away in the meantime!”