Kitabı oku: «Real Gold: A Story of Adventure», sayfa 6
Chapter Nine
Cyril Scents Danger
As the men in charge of the llamas came in sight of the colonel and his party, they waited for more and more to join them, and it soon became plain that they expected or meditated an attack; but a peaceful message sent on by the colonel gave them confidence, and the swarthy men, for the most part armed, came on, followed now by their charge, till the great opening in the rock-wall was filled by the drove of rough, woolly-looking animals; there being over five hundred in the caravan, and each bearing about a hundredweight of the precious fever-averting bark.
Diego and Cyril’s powers were soon brought into requisition for interpreting; the strangers willingly stating where they were going, but proving themselves as eager to know the colonel’s business as he showed himself about the bark bales, before the mules were once more loaded, and the English party started again, so as to get to the end of the valley before dark.
The coming of the caravan had given the boys encouragement, for, as Cyril argued to Perry, the track could not be so very bad if that drove of animals bearing loads could come along it in safety.
“I don’t know about that,” replied Perry. “I had a good look at them. Short-legged, broad things like these, with soft spongy feet like camels, seem made for walking up here among the rocks; while the mules, with their long legs and hard hoofs, look as if they might slip and go over at any time.”
This was just after they had started, and found, as soon as they had cleared the rocky chaos, that the shelf path was so wide that the lads were able to ride abreast; and as the colonel had gone right in front with the guide, the boys began talking about the men with the llamas.
“Any one would think your father wanted to go into the kina trade,” said Cyril, who was rapidly recovering his spirits. “Did you notice how the Indian frowned when Diego kept on talking to him, and I asked all those questions for your father?”
“I thought he seemed impatient and tired, and as if he wanted to sit down and rest.”
“Oh, it wasn’t that,” said Cyril quietly; “it’s because they want to keep all about the bark trees very secret, so that no one else shall be able to grow it and supply it for sale. You heard my father say how the people who went in search of the trees never came back again. Father feels sure that they were murdered.”
“No; that was the people who went after the treasures.”
“Oh, was it? I forget. Perhaps it was both,” said Cyril. “My head got in such a muddle over my coming after you, that things are mixed. I suppose it was because Colonel Campion asked so much about the kina.”
“Father takes a great interest in everything; that’s why he travels and has come here,” said Perry. “Look, there goes a condor.”
“Well, let him go,” said Cyril. “He isn’t good to eat, and you’ve got plenty of provisions to last till you get to some village on the other side of the mountains. But, I say, it does seem strange that you people should come here of all places in the world.”
“I don’t see it,” replied Perry. “It’s a very wonderful place to come to, but I wish it wasn’t quite so dangerous. I keep feeling afraid of turning giddy.”
“Yes, it’s a wonderful place to come to, and I had no idea that the valleys were so awful and deep; but I should enjoy it if it wasn’t for thinking of them at home. I hope they believe I’ve come after you. Wish I’d left a line to say where I had gone.”
“It’s too late to wish that now,” said Perry.
“Yes, but one can’t help wishing it all the same. I wish I knew why your father has come up here.”
At that moment there was a warning shout from forward, and another from John Manning in the rear, for the boys had been so wrapped in their thoughts that they had not noticed how rapidly the path was narrowing. They had, however, another hint, and that was from Cyril’s mule, which, from long training on similar paths, knew exactly what to do, and went on ahead, while Perry’s stopped short on the narrowing shelf which followed all the windings and angles of the rocky wall, and had become so strait that Perry shrank from watching the laden mules, whose loads every now and then brushed against the stones, and one completely caught against a rough projection, making the intelligent animal that bore it stop and ease away a little, leaning more and more over the precipice till Perry’s hands turned cold and wet, and he held his breath. Just, though, as he was about to close his eyes, so as not to see the poor brute plunge headlong down to where it would certainly be dashed to pieces, the load escaped from the awkward corner, and the mule trudged on just as before, while Perry heard a deeply-drawn sigh just behind him.
“I thought he’d have gone, Master Perry,” said John Manning. “Mules ain’t got no nerves, that’s for certain, and if ever you hear any one say in the future as a donkey’s a stupid animal, you tell him he don’t know what he’s talking about.”
“That mule’s sensible enough, at all events,” said Perry, without venturing to turn his head, lest he should have to look down into the gulf.
“Sensible, sir? Why, he acted just as a human being would. I call it wonderful. I say, Master Perry, though.”
“Yes? But I wish you wouldn’t talk to me so, while we are going along a place like this.”
“Don’t say so, Master Perry, because I want to talk. It keeps one from feeling a bit skeary, because this is a place, sir, really.”
“Well, what do you want to say? Speak loud, for I can’t turn round to listen.”
“But if I speak loud, the colonel will hear me, sir, and I want to talk about him.”
“Well, go on then; what is it?”
“Can’t you tell me, sir, where we’re going to, and what we’re going for?”
“We’re going over the mountains, John.”
“Well, sir, I know that; but what are we going for?”
“To find the valley of diamonds, and throw down lumps of meat for the rocs to fetch out.”
“No, no, sir, that won’t do,” said John Manning, shaking his head. “As you said to me the other day, that’s only a story out of the ’Rabian Nights, and not real truth, though these places might just as well be something of the kind, from the looks of them. But, I say, sir, you do know where we’re going, and what for, don’t you?”
“No, I have not the slightest idea. Ask my father yourself.”
“What, sir! Me ask the colonel about the plan of his campaign? Why, I should as soon have thought of asking the Dook o’ Wellington.”
“We shall know in good time, I daresay,” said Perry; and then a slip on the part of one of the mules ahead made them turn cold once more.
But the clever animal recovered itself on the instant, and for hours they kept on along this path, till the boys despaired of reaching its end, and began to calculate on the possibility of having to encamp on a place like that for the night.
But it is a long lane that has no turning, and just when there was a sensible deepening of the gloom, and the peeps they had of the sky overhead were of a golden amber, they turned an angle and became aware of an increase in the murmuring sound of water, which thenceforth grew louder and louder, till it was evident that they were approaching some extensive fall.
An hour later they were in full sight of where it came thundering down hundreds of feet, spouting forth from a gap, and plunging down on to a huge buttress of rock, which shot it off again far into the air, distributing it so that it went on down into the valley like a misty rain, and without a sound arising from below.
The fall was magnificent, for, as they approached, the upper part was turned to gold by the setting sun, and to add to the beauty of the scene, there was a patch of forest on either side, and the narrow shelf was broadening out to where it ran into a side valley, all golden green and darkened shadow. For they had reached the end of the terrific gorge, and there were scores of places just in front ready for the formation of ideal camps, without the risk of an incautious step sending its unhappy author thousands of feet down into the depths below.
In another half-hour they were in a place which, by comparison with the sterile defile of darkness and depression, seemed to the lads beautiful in the extreme; and after a hearty meal, while the colonel was looking round the camp, as he called it, and having a farewell glance for the night at the mules, which were thoroughly enjoying the abundance of grass, Cyril sat looking very thoughtful and depressed.
“He’s thinking of home and his people,” said Perry to himself, and then, on the impulse of the moment:
“I say,” he cried, “why didn’t my father send you back along with the llama train? I never thought of that before.”
“Are you in such a hurry to get rid of me?” said Cyril bitterly.
“No, of course not; but as he said he should send you home by the first, I thought it strange that he had not done so.”
“Because they were not going to San Geronimo,” said Cyril quietly. “They would turn off to the north, just where I first joined you, and I suppose he thought, after what I had suffered, it would be too cruel to send me to find a great deal of my way back with people like that.”
They relapsed into silence for a time, during which period John Manning cleared away and washed up as methodically as if he were at home, while the two Indians sat by the fire munching away at the supply of biscuit given to them.
“What are you thinking about, Perry?” said Cyril at last.
“The stars. How big and bright they are up here. What were you thinking about?”
“Diego, our guide.”
“What about him? – that he ought to be fonder of water, even if it is icily-cold?”
“No,” said Cyril seriously. “I want to know why he has turned so quiet and serious, and why he seems to be always watching your father in such a peculiar way.”
“Father was sharp with him, and ordered him to go on, when he seemed to want to go back.”
“Yes, and I suppose he did not quite like it; but that isn’t all.”
“What is all, then?” said Perry.
“Ah, that’s what I want to find out. He puzzles me. He’s thinking about something, and I shouldn’t wonder if he has taken it into his head that your father has come up here to look for the Incas’ treasures.”
“Pooh! Why should he think that?” returned Perry.
“Because these Indian chaps are horribly suspicious as well as superstitious. They would think it a horrible sin to touch the gold if there is any; and if it is found, they would be ready to defend it.”
“What with? Bows and arrows?” cried Perry, laughing.
“Yes, and blowpipes.”
“Why don’t you introduce pop-guns as well?”
“Because they are toys,” said Cyril seriously, “and blowpipes are not. Don’t you know the tiny darts they send out are poisoned, and that one will kill anything it hits?”
“Is that true?” said Perry, whose eyes dilated at the idea.
“Quite true. I saw a man kill several birds with the darts. They died almost directly they were struck, and I have been told by father that he has seen small animals die in a few minutes after being scratched.”
“But do you think – Oh, what nonsense! You have got your head crammed with that idea about the gold.”
“Perhaps so,” said Cyril thoughtfully, “and maybe I’m wrong. But I don’t like to see old Diego turn so gruff and distant, and it seemed strange for him to go and talk for a long time with the Indians in charge of the llamas. I saw them look very strangely and suspiciously at your father afterwards.”
“Those Indians? Why, what could it be to them? Ah, the Peruvian Indians are said to be joined together to protect everything belonging to the old days when they were a great nation, and keep it for the time when the Incas come back to rule over them again.”
“Say, Master Perry,” said John Manning in a low voice, “your eyes are younger than mine. Just cast ’em along the rock path we come to-day.”
“Yes, what for?”
“Are you looking straight along, sir?”
“Yes.”
“Well, what do you see?”
“Nothing at all.”
“Try again, sir.”
Both Perry and Cyril looked along the path, tracing it faintly in the coming night for some distance along, beyond where the great fall came thundering down.
“I can’t see anything,” said Perry.
“Nor I,” said Cyril. “Yes, I can. There’s something that looks like shadows moving.”
“Steady, sir; don’t seem as if you were noticing it, but notice it all the same. It struck me as strange ten minutes ago, but I thought it was fancy. But you see it, sir, and it must be right. Now then, sir, what do you make that to be?”
“Indians,” said Cyril promptly.
“That’s right, sir – what I thought; and they’re watching us, and after no good.”
“What! Do you think they are hanging round the camp to try to steal?”
“Don’t know, sir,” said John Manning gruffly. “I hope that’s the worst.”
Chapter Ten
John Manning Thinks
John Manning’s curious remark sent a thrill through Cyril, and, trying hard not to appear as if watching, he strained his eyes in the direction indicated, but the gloom had increased, and neither he nor Perry could make out anything more.
“What do you mean by ‘you hope that’s the worst?’” said Perry.
“Well, sir, I hardly know how to tell you.”
“Speak out,” said Cyril rather huskily. “If you think there’s danger, tell us, so that we can tell the colonel, and put him on his guard.”
“Well, young gents, I did give him a hint once, but he nearly jumped down my throat,” said John Manning.
“What!” cried the boys in a breath.
“Well, sir, that’s what you clever folk call methy-physical. I told him I didn’t think the Indians was to be trusted, and that I fancied they were keeping an eye upon everything he did, and he insulted me, sir.”
“Nonsense, John,” said Perry. “My father wouldn’t insult you.”
“O’ course you stick up for your dad, Master Perry, as is quite right natural, and your duty to. But I put it to you, Master Cyril: he’s a soldier, and I’m a soldier, and if one soldier calls another a stoopid old woman, with no more pluck than a quill pen, isn’t that an insult?”
“But Colonel Campion did not mean it, I’m sure,” said Cyril impatiently. “Now then, don’t waste time. What is it you think?”
“Well, sir, I think our Indians said something to those Indians who were with the llamas, and three or four turned back and followed after us.”
“Are you sure?” said Cyril anxiously.
“Well, sir, I’m sure I saw some of them dodging us and following. I wasn’t very sure at first, for I thought p’raps the colonel was right, and I was a bit of an old woman growing scared at shadows; but I feel pretty sure now.”
“But why should they follow us?” asked Cyril tentatively. “You have some idea in your head.”
“Well, sir, I have; and whether it’s right or wrong I can’t say, but it seems to me as these people are all in league together, and they don’t want anybody to come up in the mountains. They want to know what we’re about.”
“But don’t you fancy that, because it is what you have been thinking, John,” said Perry. “You have been wonderfully anxious to know where we were going, and what for.”
“That’s a true word, sir,” replied the man, “but I think they want to know too. It seems to me they’re afraid we want to take something out of their country.”
“Nonsense,” said Perry.
“Nonsense!” said Cyril sharply. “He’s right, Perry. It’s just what I told you, and – ”
“Now, quick, Mr Cyril!” whispered John. “Turn towards me, as if you were going to speak, and look toward the path we came by.”
Cyril responded quickly, and saw by the light of the fire, which had just then blazed up brightly, a dark face peering at them over a great piece of rock. He even saw the flash of the fire in the watcher’s eyes, and then, as he pretended to hand something to Manning, his look was averted for a moment, and when he glanced again in the same direction, the face was gone.
Cyril responded quickly, and saw a dark face peering at them over a great piece of rock.
“Now, Master Cyril, what do you say?” whispered John Manning.
“I say it may only be curiosity,” replied Cyril, “but certainly we are being watched, and the colonel ought to know directly.”
“Hah!” ejaculated the old soldier, with a sigh of satisfaction, “this puts one in mind of old times up in the hill-country, with the niggers waiting to go at you with matchlock or knife. I didn’t think I was ever going to have the luck to see a bit of fighting again.”
Perry started, and Cyril’s face looked in the firelight as if it was flushed.
“Where’s the colonel?” he said quickly. “Be steady, Perry, old chap. There’s nothing to be frightened about. Don’t look as if anything was the matter. Come and find your father, and let’s go and speak to Diego and the other man.”
“But I can’t speak to them,” said Perry excitedly.
“Never mind, I will. Come along.”
“And suppose they shoot at us,” whispered Perry, “with an arrow or blowpipe?”
“They’d better!” said Cyril grimly. “But they won’t do that. Come on.”
He walked on toward the fire, behind which the two Indians were crouched, apparently enjoying the warmth and the charqui they were munching; but they gazed furtively up at the two boys as they came up, and one of them started slightly as Cyril made a sudden stoop, but became impassive directly when the boy picked up two or three half-burned brands and threw them into the middle of the fire before holding his hands out to the flame.
“The waterfall makes it feel cold up here, and damp,” he said to the guide in his patois, and the man smiled as he spoke, and then pointed up a defile away above them as he replied.
“What does he say?” asked Perry.
“That the wind comes down that narrow rift from the snow, and it is that which makes it cold. I only half understand him.”
He turned laughingly to the guide, and said a few words to that effect, and the man laughed and nodded as he replied.
“Oh, what a big fib!” said Cyril merrily. “He says I speak his tongue beautifully. – Oh, there’s the colonel looking round at the mules. They’re having a beautiful feed here. Plenty of grass for the mules,” he said to the Indian, and the man nodded again, and said it was good.
The colonel said something very similar, as the boys strolled carelessly up, at a time when Perry felt as if he must run to his father, shouting: “Look out! Danger!”
“We must stay here two or three days, boys,” the colonel said. “The mules will revel in this grass and fresh water, and make up for their fasting lately.”
“I think not, sir,” said Cyril, speaking carelessly, and making believe to pat one of the mules, which turned sharply round and showed him its heels.
“What do you mean, sir?”
Cyril told him quickly; and as he spoke, the colonel’s hand twitched, and went involuntarily to his side, as if he were seeking a sword.
“Humph!” he ejaculated. Then quietly, and looking at the mules: “That’s right, lads; don’t make a sign. I daresay John Manning is right. He has eyes like a hawk, and he is true as steel. Well, I’m not surprised. I half expected it, though not quite so soon.”
“What shall we do then, father?” said Perry anxiously. “Go back?”
“Englishmen don’t go back, Perry,” said his father gravely. “They would not have colonised the whole world if they did. No, boy, we are going on, and I don’t think there is anything to fear. These people are all joined together to watch every stranger who comes into their country, in dread lest they should be in search of the Incas’ treasures, and they would be ready to fight in defence.”
“And kill us, father,” said Perry, with his lips paling in the firelight.
“If we let them, boy. But we are well-armed, John Manning and I, and know how to use our weapons if it should come to a struggle, which I doubt.”
“Then you have come in search of something, sir! I knew it,” cried Cyril.
“Yes, I have come in search of something, boy, and I mean to find it and take it away out of the country in spite of all their watchfulness and care. Now, then, what do you say to that? Are you afraid, and do you want to get back?”
“I don’t know, sir,” said Cyril quietly. “Yes, I do. I can’t help feeling a bit frightened like. I don’t want to, but I do.”
“And you wish to go back? For I warn you I am going on in spite of all obstacles.”
“No, I don’t,” said Cyril quietly. “I shall go with you. I’m not going to leave Perry in the lurch.”
“There’s a coward for you, Perry, my boy,” said the colonel, laughing. “You must be a very good sort of a fellow to have made a friend like that; one who risks his father’s anger to come with you, and who is now ready to run more risks for your sake.”
“I’m afraid it isn’t that, sir,” said Cyril frankly. “I wanted to come because I thought it was going to be a great treat.”
“There, say no more now. Listen to me. I shall take it for granted that we have spies in the camp, and that, consequent upon their communication to the men of the llama caravan, some of that party are following us. Of course the poor fellows consider that they are performing a religious duty, so I shall not charge them with their action. They will go on watching us till they find I have done something which calls for immediate action. Till then we are safe.”
“Then you will not do anything, sir?” said Cyril, looking quite aghast.
“Oh yes, I shall be upon my guard. From now there will be watch set every night in camp, and we shall sleep with our arms charged and ready for action at a moment’s notice.”
“Yes,” said Cyril, with a sigh of satisfaction.
“You can handle a gun, Cyril?”
“Yes, sir, after a fashion. I have often been up in the hills with my father, shooting.”
“That will do,” said the colonel. “Now let’s go and have a look at the falls before setting watch and going to our blankets. Tell the men to keep up a pretty good fire, Cyril.”
He led the way to where the Indians were seated as he spoke, and nodded to them smilingly as Cyril gave his orders; and then, as the men quickly obeyed them, the colonel led the way to the edge of a cliff! From here they could see the large body of water come gliding down in a curve from far away up in the darkness, to gleam in the firelight as it passed them, and then dive down into the deeper darkness below.
“An awful-looking place, boys, in the darkness,” said the colonel quietly. “There now, we’ll seek our blankets – at least you shall, for I shall take the first watch; John Manning will take the second.”
“Shall I sit up with you, father?” said Perry.
“No, my lad, we must husband our resources. Your turn will come to-morrow night. Remember what I said about the guns. Make no show, but have your ammunition ready for use at a moment’s notice. The Indians will see that, you may depend upon it, and act accordingly.”
Half an hour later the two boys were lying inside a little shelter formed of the mules’ packs and a wall-like mass of rock, listening to the roar of the falls, and watching the figure of the colonel standing gazing out into the night, as he rested his chin upon the barrel of his piece.
“I shan’t go to sleep to-night,” said Perry in a whisper.
“Oh yes, you will. I shall,” replied Cyril.
Just then John Manning came close up, with his gun in his hand.
“Good-night, gentlemen,” he said. “Colonel says I’m to come and lie in the shelter here. Don’t kick in the night, please, because I’m going to be at your feet. I had a messmate once out in India, who, when we were in barracks, used to sleep like a lamb, but so sure as we were on the march and had to share a tent, which meant he slept in his boots, you might just as well have gone to sleep with a pack of commissariat mules, for the way in which he’d let go with his heels was a wonder. Good-night, gentlemen, good-night.”
