Kitabı oku: «Captured by the Arabs», sayfa 9

CHAPTER XXII
The Cave of Treasure

AT Dr. Kirshner’s dread explanation, Joe cried out in surprise and fear.

“Captured!” he mumbled in a strange voice. “Find out how long they are going to keep us.”

The scientist put the question before the Arabs, who laughed mockingly.

“Until the treasures have all been taken from the hidden cave,” they replied in the native language.

Dr. Kirshner could hardly believe his ears.

“Then – the riches have been found?” he demanded.

“Yes. And we are to keep you away. We know not how long it will be. If you act right, we will treat you well. But if you try to get away you will be severely punished.”

“Where are you taking us?”

For answer the Arabs only laughed.

“What do you think of it?” asked Joe, after his friend had translated the natives’ words.

Dr. Kirshner shook his head.

“Looks like we’re not going to get back to camp today,” he said gravely. “Worst thing is, these rascals may hunt out our friends and capture them also. If we could just leave some word that would give them a hint to be on the lookout – ”

The two Americans were forced along the narrow edge of a deep canyon, and more than once they felt that they were but an inch from death. Their tempers were thoroughly aroused, but they knew that they had no chance against such a horde.

“These fellows are a bit different from American roughnecks,” Dr. Kirshner said. “Arabs would not hesitate to stick a knife through you if not satisfied with your actions, but our own countrymen would ordinarily think twice before doing such a thing.”

The two explorers were in the midst of the group, with swarthy natives on each side of them. To attempt to break loose would indeed be futile.

“I wonder if we will be taken near the hidden riches?” muttered Joe, gazing ahead at the distant country.

“Hard telling,” the archæologist replied. “Of course it is possible, but I doubt it. Still they might purposefully show us the treasure to let us know how much we are missing.”

A half-hour’s traveling brought them to the base of an unusually high peak. It might, thought the Americans, be Mount Oudane or Illiman, as it was every inch of ten thousand feet.

There was a small well in a crevice between the rocks, and much to their great delight the prisoners were given the opportunity to drink to their hearts’ content. The water was unusually cool, protected as it was from the heat of the sun.

But only a few minutes’ rest was allowed, even though the Americans were very tired after the ceaseless afternoon tramp.

Another hour of hiking over the rough country brought them to a high hill, which Dr. Kirshner said led to the central plateau of Atakor. For a great distance it was almost flat country, with little or no vegetation.

The prisoners were forced to climb a narrow ledge and came at last to the top of the mountain. To their right was a large entrance that led undoubtedly into a cave.

The Arabs motioned for the whites to stop and turn into the cavern. Dr. Kirshner and Joe hesitated for a moment then did as directed.

At first they found themselves in utter darkness. As their eyes became more accustomed to the blackness, they saw that a long, narrow tunnel stretched away from the back of the cave. Whether it led to any place in particular they did not know.

“Well, I guess we’ve come to the end of our tramp,” observed Joe, looking about to see what the Arabs intended to do next.

There were no chairs or boxes to sit on, but slabs of rock invited the newcomers to sit down.

As soon as it became evident that the Americans had settled themselves, the Arabs stationed themselves at the entrance of the cave. Before long, however, all of the men but three departed.

“Looks bad for us,” remarked Dr. Kirshner. “We were fools to start out alone in this country when we knew we were getting near the hidden riches.”

“Too late now,” mourned Joe. “We’ll have to make the best of it, I guess. But I’d feel a lot better if we had some way to warn Dad and Bob and the others. Perhaps they’ll walk right into a trap set by those Arabs.”

The cave in which they were guarded was in the side of a wall of rock, which was several hundred feet above the surrounding mountains. From their lofty positions the Americans could look out over scores of miles of rugged country.

Dr. Kirshner had his binoculars strapped over his shoulder and took them out to view the distant panorama. The binoculars were of very high power, made by a well-known firm.

Suddenly his eyes fell on something that made him gasp in astonishment.

“The cave of riches!” he cried. “I can see it! And there are five or six Arabs walking inside!”

CHAPTER XXIII
Met by Enemies

DOWN a little valley between two high mountains rode four explorers, their eager eyes penetrating every crevice and notch in the mountainous country about them. High-power binoculars were turned upon every level stretch, rifles were fired at regular intervals, voices were brought to new swells. It was a search that under ordinary circumstances would have brought Dr. Kirshner and Joe back in a very short time.

Finally, after the searchers had been out several hours and darkness was beginning to fall, Mr. Lewis stopped and buried his face in his hands. He realized that defeat was staring them in the face.

“Guess they’re really lost,” sighed Bob Holton, his face extremely sober.

“Or else something has happened to them,” added Fekmah in a voice that he tried to keep steady.

Mr. Lewis said nothing, but he feared all too much that the Arab was right. And yet, he reasoned, they were likely to be very careful and not take chances. Still that would not prevent nature or wild tribes from harming them.

Mr. Holton, however, was very optimistic. He believed that, despite the length of their stay, the two were safe. Perhaps they had fallen asleep from exhaustion or had wandered farther away than they had intended and were forced to spend the night in the mountains.

Tishmak had been left at the camp, as it was thought best to have someone there in case the archæologist and Joe should return while the searchers were gone.

“We’re a long distance from camp,” said Mr. Lewis, as the searchers sat on their camels at the brink of a deep gully. “Shall we try to get back tonight?”

“I’m in favor of it,” returned Mr. Holton impatiently. “Of course we left word with Tishmak that we might spend the night away, but he may be greatly worried. Then, too, he might not be safe there alone.”

The others thought this good advice, and turned the dromedaries back up the lane. They could possibly get half of the way there before the darkness would halt them. Then the moon would probably furnish sufficient light to continue.

“Here’s hoping they will be at camp when we get there,” said Bob.

But Tishmak was the only one who greeted them when finally they rode wearily up to the tent.

The guide had fully expected to see the lost ones return with the others, and his face wore an anxious look when he saw that their search had been in vain.

Fekmah immediately related their past experiences, concluding by asking what Tishmak thought had happened to them.

The guide replied that, as Mr. Holton had said, perhaps they had wandered farther away than they had intended and were forced to spend the night away. Of course, he went on, tragedy might have come upon them, but he doubted this very much. The Tuaregs who inhabited this region were friendly to strangers, showing excellent hospitality. And both Dr. Kirshner and Joe he considered able to take care of themselves. He finished by saying that, through his guiding numerous expeditions into the Sahara, he believed himself capable of judging a true explorer.

When Fekmah translated this to the Americans, they were much relieved. Especially was Mr. Lewis hopeful. He had confidence in Joe and believed him equal to taking care of many tight situations.

Notwithstanding this, there was little sleep for any of them that night. When at last the sun began to peep through the distant mountains they were up ready for action.

“We’ve got to find them today,” said Bob, gritting his teeth.

“We will, if they are anywhere around here,” Mr. Lewis added. “Let’s hurry and have breakfast.”

As soon as the meal was over, they again started out on the search, this time taking Tishmak and leaving Fekmah. The latter thought this the best procedure, as the guide could render more assistance in searching the mountains.

Taking the opposite direction from the one they followed the day before, the explorers rode off, bidding warm farewells to Fekmah.

For several miles they rode over the smooth surface of a dry river bed. Then they turned and followed a path around a small mountain.

“Wonder how this path got here?” said Joe, as they plodded up the hill.

“Wasn’t made by nature,” concluded Mr. Holton, observing the regularity that was persistent with every step.

He resolved to use his limited knowledge of the native language and inquired of Tishmak, for surely the guide would know.

When finally the latter understood, he replied that the lane had been made by Tuaregs who inhabited this region. Perhaps the path would lead them to a village.

But the searchers trudged on around the hill without seeing any signs of natives. However, they finally broke away from the narrow way and emerged on level country.

They were now on a high plateau, with towering peaks on all sides of them. As far as the explorers could see, there were no breaks or ravines anywhere about.

Rifles were discharged at intervals, and hoarse shouts often rent the air. At every few steps the searchers stopped to look about, almost expecting eventually to find the lost ones nearer than they thought.

Once Bob thought he heard footsteps, but several minutes of listening convinced them that no one was about. Perhaps it had been his imagination.

“Sounded like someone was coming toward us,” the youth said. “But I guess I just thought so.”

“We’ll have to keep our ears and eyes wide open,” Mr. Lewis reminded them. “If Joe and Dr. Kirshner are anywhere around here, it might be possible to hear them.”

“Isn’t likely that they fell into the hands of Tuareg raiders, is it?” asked Mr. Holton.

“Tishmak said not,” Joe’s father returned. “He thinks that the Tuaregs around here are friendly and peaceful.”

A little farther on they passed several large slabs of rock that were covered with ancient inscriptions and drawings. Dr. Kirshner would surely throw a fit of delight if he could see them. But, thought Bob, perhaps he had already come to them and was searching for more, quite forgetful of the necessity to get back to camp. But no, this could not be, for Joe would realize that necessity if the scientist did not.

At noon they stopped for lunch under a large crag that resembled an inverted hook. There was plenty of water in their containers, giving each the opportunity to satisfy his thirst.

There was not much conversation during that rest, for they were all busy with their thoughts. And those thoughts were anything but cheerful. But they refused to give up hope so soon, for another half-hour might see the two lost ones back with their friends.

Scarcely ten minutes were spent in the shade of the rock. Even then Mr. Lewis felt that that time had been wasted.

“Something might have happened to them during that time,” he said, greatly worried.

Mr. Holton laid a hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“Snap out of it, Ben, old man,” he begged. “I’m willing to bet that they are safe and well. And I firmly believe we will find them before another day will pass.”

Mr. Lewis did resolve to cheer up and be hopeful; but still he possessed a haunting fear that perhaps tragedy had come upon them.

The sun blazed very hot that afternoon, scorching the already baked soil. This did not hinder the progress of the searchers, however, who trudged constantly on.

Suddenly, as they passed over a wide valley strewn with rocks and dotted with cracks and ravines, Bob stopped and looked about expectantly. The others had also caught a sound.

The next moment the explorers were seized with fear, for ten or twelve evil-looking Arabs darted out on dromedaries and rushed toward the explorers.

“What’s this!” cried Mr. Holton, as one of the men caught hold of his camel.

There was no chance to use their guns. The Arabs were on the lookout for any treachery.

Suddenly Bob saw a chance and, drawing the reins of his dromedary, he dashed away at full speed for a short canyon between the rocks.

CHAPTER XXIV
A Dangerous Undertaking

URGING his dromedary on to the utmost, the youth was carried over the narrow valley at a pace that ate up the distance surprisingly. In fact, never had he traveled so rapidly on camelback.

When he was several hundred feet away, he glanced back, to see that two of the Arabs were pursuing him desperately. At the start he had put a good distance between himself and his enemies, but now the latter were gaining swiftly. They were more familiar with the country and knew better how to command their camels to move fast.

“If I can only make that little canyon,” the youth thought, bending low so as to lessen the wind resistance.

The canyon was near now, but a hurried look over his shoulder told Bob that the Arabs were near also. If he could only get there!

He lashed the dromedary with a new determination and entered the narrow way between the mountains just as the Arabs passed over a small grove of low shrubs some two hundred feet away.

Bob knew that this was a very short canyon and that there were numerous large rocks and crevices at the opposite end. Perhaps he could successfully evade his pursuers by hiding in one of these openings in the mountainsides.

Sharp jagged crags protruded from all sides of the thread-like passageway between the high walls. It was very dangerous to ride with much speed in such a place, but the chance had to be taken.

He reached the other end of the passage with but a moment to spare. Immediately his dromedary was cut over to the right behind a barrel-like rock. But the youth did not stop there; he wound in and out among the many huge boulders.

At last he came to a stop in a large crevice between two imposing slabs of stone. With every nerve on edge, the young man listened.

“They’re coming!” he thought, getting out his revolver. “But they won’t get me if I can help it!”

But he was in a very secure hideout, and it was unlikely that the Arabs would locate it. Still he realized that they probably knew this region better than did he.

As Bob waited breathlessly, his mind was in a whirl. Who were these Arabs? What did they want? Why had they descended upon the little exploring party so mysteriously? Bob did not know what to make of the situation, but he knew that danger was at hand. What further added to his perplexity was the fact that Arabs did not normally inhabit the Sahara so far south as this.

Suddenly he started, as a thought struck him. Was it – the two thieves who stole Fekmah’s map? Entirely possible, of course.

Then a strange thing happened. As though informed by some unseen power, Bob grasped the whole situation. He saw Dr. Kirshner and Joe in the clutches of the two thieves, being held as prisoners. He visioned his father, Mr. Lewis, and Tishmak riding away under the guard of the Arabs.

“Those thieves did it, then, to keep us away from the hidden treasure,” thought the youth, and he could not have had a more accurate realization.

For some time he listened closely for any sound from the two Arabs who had pursued him. He thought once he heard the footsteps of camels, but was not sure.

What was he to do next? He was now doubly glad that good fortune had enabled him to escape from the would-be captors. If the Arabs had been nomad plunderers, he would probably not have suffered much by remaining with his father and the others. But as it was, there was a possibility of bringing rescue to his friends.

“How am I to do it?” the youth mused, trying to remain calm.

Suddenly the far-away noise of footsteps came to his ears, and he knew that the two Arabs who had followed him had given up and were abandoning the chase to join their friends back in the valley.

After several minutes of waiting, Bob got off his camel and tethered the brute to a small protruding rock. Then he walked over to some distance beyond the mountain near which he had been hiding.

He glanced up to the top of the peak and saw that it was unusually high. The sides stretched almost straight up.

“If I could only get to the top of some tall mountain,” Bob thought, his eyes scanning the landscape. “Then I might be able to see where Dad and the others will be taken.”

The peak before him offered no footholds and therefore could not possibly be scaled. He looked about for other sky-piercing hills. At last his eyes fell on one about a hundred yards away, and he resolved to inspect it.

“Looks like there might be a chance there,” the youth thought and then walked over and untied his dromedary.

He rode over to the mountain, every step bringing new hope. The peak, rocky as it was, was rather gradual and not straight up, as were many others in the vicinity.

Once more the camel was tied by the rocky side, and Bob moved over to gaze up to the top. The dizzy height almost took his breath away. But he saw at once that it would be possible to climb to the very summit of this imposing peak of rock.

Bracing himself to the task that was before him, Bob began the dangerous ascent, slowly, at first, and then climbing faster. It was exhausting, fear-inspiring, but he went bravely up. There was no option in this case. He must observe where his father and the others would be taken by their Arab captors.

“If I can only get up in time,” the young man thought, as he sought out a means to ascend a five-foot plate of smooth stone that was directly above him.

To do this, it was necessary to edge on around the mountainside until he came to a rough, gradual section. Then climbing became comparatively easy.

Once, when he was but a third of the way up, he glanced back over his shoulder to the ground below and almost lost his balance. But he caught himself with a quick motion, and after resting a moment from the terrific strain, continued the climb. That glance to the ground had revealed that he was several hundred feet up. How easy it would be to slip backwards!

Another hundred feet and he found himself on a wide shelf, which seemed to encircle the peak. A short rest was taken here, and in the end he felt much better for it.

“Wonder if I can get down from here?” the boy mused, again taking up the climb. “I’ll find some way, though,” was his conclusion.

For a few more hundred feet the way was very gradual, with many rocks of different sizes affording footholds. But as he came to a sharp break in the side of the mountain, the lofty pointed crag shaped up straighter and more jagged. Once he thought he had gone as far as possible, but finally managed to get to the brink of a slab that had threatened to hinder his progress.

“On to the top,” he thought, bringing his foot up another notch with difficulty.

At last, panting and perspiring, he ascended the last stretch and took his position on the flat surface of a platform-like formation. Then he turned to look below.

A cry of astonishment came from his lips as he saw that he was hundreds and hundreds of feet in the air. Far, far below, he could dimly make out his dromedary by the outermost side of the mountain. The beast seemed no larger than an ant.

“I wonder if Dad and the others can be seen,” he mused, turning his gaze in the opposite direction.

“Yes!” he muttered excitedly. “There they are.”

He had caught sight of his father and friends being led up the valley by their Arab captors. The camels on which they rode seemed only crawling, so small did they appear.

As usual, his binoculars were strapped over his shoulder, and he took them out to get a closer view. Through them he could see the worried expressions on his friends’ faces, and the surly grins of the Arabs.

There was a sort of narrow ledge that passed up the little valley and around the mountain. It was up this that the captives were being led.

“There’s probably a hideout somewhere around here,” the youth thought, shifting his eyes from the camel procession to the rugged country ahead.

From his lofty perch it might be possible to get a glimpse of the hidden cave in which were the riches. Bob scanned the landscape about him but finally gave up and again followed the movements of his friends and the Arabs.

“If it’s anywhere around here, it’s concealed from view,” he thought.

The youth was crouching low behind a flat shelf of rock, so as to be invisible to the Arabs if they should happen to look up in that direction. He knew that their seeing him would spell his doom.

As Bob watched the line of camels and their riders, it seemed that they were making no time at all; yet he knew that they were winding around the mountain as fast as possible.

Up, up, up they went, but always in sight. Bob noticed that they were gradually moving away from him, and he wondered if he would be able to follow their movements to the end.

“If I can’t, I’ll have to change peaks,” he thought, although he realized that this would be difficult and dangerous.

The Arabs and their captives were now nearing a high wall of rock that would prevent them from being seen. But it would be for only a short time – if they did not stop opposite it.

After what seemed like hours to Bob, they emerged again into view, this time at the brink of a high cliff.

“Hope they don’t step off of there,” the youth breathed, his heart in his mouth.

At last, just as the sun was beginning to sink behind the distant peaks, the camels and their riders came to a stop at an opening in a mountainside that evidently led into a cave.

Hardly able to hold the binoculars steady, Bob watched breathlessly, almost expecting to catch sight of Joe and Dr. Kirshner. But those individuals did not make an appearance. Bob did not doubt, however, that they were in the cave.

A moment later, captors and captives dismounted from their dromedaries and walked through the opening out of sight.

Bob waited silently for another half-hour, thinking that it might be possible that this was only a temporary prison. But when at the end of that time no one had left the cave, he was convinced that this was a permanent hideout.

“Now I suppose it’s up to me to get down from here right away,” Bob thought, gliding silently off the shelf and onto a narrow ridge that was directly below.

Carefully he felt his way down with great difficulty. As he had surmised, the descent would prove much harder than the ascent.

Once his heart sank, as he saw that a five-foot wall of stone was directly below him. But then he suddenly remembered that a little to his right there were protruding rocks that would offer footholds. He edged around, and in a short time was again climbing steadily down.

The minutes passed. When he was a third of the way to the bottom, darkness began to fall rapidly. He realized that he could not get to the base of the peak before pitch darkness would envelop him.

“But I’ve got to keep going down,” he told himself, frantically feeling his way among the rocks.

For the past five minutes he had been getting drowsy, sleepy. The day’s strain was beginning to tell on him. With an effort he kept himself awake. He knew the grim consequences if he should suddenly fall asleep while making the dangerous descent of the peak.

He was half of the way down; now two thirds. But a few more hundred feet remained, and he braced himself and continued his slow, careful movement.

“Not much more now,” he observed, glancing down. “Ought to make it in a few more minutes.”

Long before, darkness had come upon him, making the frequent use of his small flashlight necessary. Even then it was a hard task.

“Must be almost to the bottom,” he thought, when another fifteen minutes had passed.

He flashed the light downward and saw that fifty feet still remained. Again he bent his efforts upon the descent that was still before him, and in no time had covered most of the distance.

But just when he prepared to use his flashlight, a small rock gave way from under his left foot. He tried vainly to catch hold of a sharp crag, and then felt himself falling!