Sleep in a mine shaft when you can sleep outside? There’s no real choice! You want to watch the sky twinkle and the stars dive, hear the breeze blowing through the leaves.
But as Indy and the bearers settle into their sleeping bags, you realize you’re too keyed up to sleep.
“Jamal,” you say. “Where has the mask been for the past thousand years?”
“Legend says the Ramploo buried it to keep it safe until they needed it again,” Jamal answers. “You see, Ramploo believe that nothing in the world happens only once. They thought the crazy elephant had come many years before and that it would come again, a thousand years later.”
“But if no one has ever seen the mask, how does Indy know it’s there?” you ask.
“I don’t,” Indy says from his sleeping bag. “But going after something I know is there is my idea of grocery shopping—not archaeology.”
Then Indy tosses you a folded, sweat-stained telegram from his shirt pocket. The telegram reads:

PROFESSOR INDIANA JONES

DEAR INDY: THE RAMPLOOS ARE DANCING
AGAIN. BOBSWIZI

“See, I forgot to tell you, kid,” Indy says. “The thousand years are up.”


Turn to page 65.