Story of the Phantom by Lee Falk Read Free Book Online

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    father at this time. His mother was so angry she had lost control of herself, beating with her tiny fists on the broad chest of the masked man who towered a head and a half above her. His massive arms enclosed her, drawing her up from the ground, carrying her toward the Skull Cave like a child.
    His voice was deep and calm, and she was suddenly quiet, as they entered the Cave.

    "He was quite safe, dear. He enjoyed it."

    CHAPTER 4
     
    THE PHANTOM CHRONICLES
    Kit had always been curious about the Chamber of Chronicles in the Skull Cave. This was a place with long shelves packed with large leather-bound volumes. Though his father had never forbidden him the chamber, he had never encouraged it. But as Kit learned to read, he became more curious.
    One day, he went in and pulled one of the volumes from the shelf. It was about four times as big as his story books and so heavy that he could hardly carry it. He placed it carefully on the rock floor and opened it. A torch burning in a nearby wall socket gave him light to read by, but he was disappointed. This was not like the print in his books. It was an unfamiliar scrawl. He had not yet learned about longhand script. His father found him on the floor with the folio volume and answered his questions about it.

    "That one you've picked is over three hundred years old, and was written by one of your grandfathers about twelve times removed." Kit puzzled over that. That meant his great great great great great great great great great great great grandfather. "Wow!" he said. "Are all these books written by grandfathers?" he asked.

    His father explained. Each generation wrote about his adventures, experiences, plans, and thoughts in these chronicles.

    "But the writing is so funny," Kit said.

    His father explained about the difference between printing and longhand. He showed Kit the Chronicle of the very first Phantom, the ancestor of them all. Though kept dusted, the volume had the dry, dusty, musty odor of centuries, like the walls of old castles. The pages were not made of paper, but of vellum, a fine parchment of kidskin. They read the first entry, dated February 17, 1536.
    "Today I swore an oath on the skull of my father's murderer."

    Kit waited expectantly for more, but his father sat in silence for a moment. He seemed moved by what he had just read. "That is where it all started," he said softly.

    "What started? Who murdered his father? What is an oath?" The questions poured out of Kit. His father closed the book. "An oath is a promise you make to yourself," he explained. "I'll tell you more about all that at a later time. For now, let me tell you a little about the first Phantom and his father."
    Kit sat back on a fur skin on the rocky floor and waited expectantly. He loved his father's stories.
    They were never made up, like Guran's or his mother's. They were all real, all true.

    "The father you just heard about was a great sea captain. Your mother told you about Christopher Columbus, didn't she?"

    "Yes, he invented the New World," said Kit excitedly.

    "Not invented, discovered," his father replied, explaining the difference. "When the father was a boy he went with Columbus as his cabin boy on the Santa Maria on the first voyage to the New World."

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    "Wow!" said Kit.

    "When Columbus returned to Spain, leaving the boy on the new settlement, on the island later called Cuba, the boy became restless. With an Indian friend, he stole off in a small boat and went to the mainland. He was possibly the first white man to set foot on what is now North America."

    "He and an Indian friend? Like me and Guran!" said Kit excitedly. "What did they do?"

    "They traveled far. They met the friendly Mayan Indians, and observed the human sacrifices of the Aztec who captured them. But they escaped, and made their way north to the Great Desert . .

    "What are human sacrifices?" interrupted Kit.

    His father explained. The Aztecs killed their captives to honor their