Singing Rock said, “I can’t explain, professor, and I think if I did you would find the situation too difficult to grasp. But I must assure you that we are serious, that we are perfectly sane, and that we must know urgently what it says in that prophecy.”

Professor Thoren looked at Singing Rock carefully. “You’re an Indian, aren’t you? This is nothing to do with Indian rights, is it? Nothing to do with that Wounded Knee business?”

“I was there, at Wounded Knee, advising and helping,” said Singing Rock. “But this particular problem has nothing to do with it whatever. This is a problem of Indian magic.”

Professor Thoren got up off his campstool and folded it away. He was a tall, broad-faced man, and he had to stoop inside the confines of the tunnel. He said, “What makes you think these hieroglyphs are a prophecy? Do you know anything about them?”

“Nothing at all,” said Singing Rock. “But they were mentioned in the context of an Indian legend.”

“Well, you surprise me,” Professor Thoren told him. “I thought I knew all the Indian legends there are to know. But nobody’s ever mentioned to me that this could be a prophecy, and I’m only just beginning to come around to believing it could be some kind of mystical prediction myself. Either you know something I don’t know, or else you’re way ahead of me.”

“Let’s just say we have inside information,” said Harry uncomfortably. He didn’t like tunnels much, they gave him claustrophobia, and he was praying that Professor Thoren would finish saying what he had to say and let them get out.

The professor looked at him quizzically. “Inside information? It sounds as if you heard it from Gitche Manitou himself.”

“Not quite,” said Harry. “But near enough. You know how these manitous gossip.”

Neil said, “Professor Thoren, I have an eight-year-old son. He’s in terrible danger right now, and these men are trying to save his life. If you could see your way clear to cooperating with them—well, I’d appreciate it.”

Professor Thoren looked at their faces in the lamplight. Then he said, “I suppose I’ve heard of nuttier things. What do you want to know?”

Harry pointed to the hieroglyphs scratched on the rock-hard surface of the giant redwood. “Do you know, basically, what all of this means?” he asked the professor.