Kitabı oku: «Young Hunters in Porto Rico: or, The Search for a Lost Treasure», sayfa 5

CHAPTER XII
PRISONERS OF NATURE

"Dick!"

"Leander!"

"Oh, my side!"

"Oh, my leg!"

"Are you seriously hurt?"

"I – I don't know."

"I've had all the wind knocked out of me."

"Ditto with me. What a tumble to take!"

"What kind of a place is this?"

"A hole – a big, deep, dark hole. One of the caves, perhaps."

"Do you think it's a – a bear's den, or something like that?"

"No, I don't. I reckon it's just a common, everyday hole, or cave. The question is, how are we going to get out?"

"To get out?"

"That's what I said."

"Climb out, of course."

"That's easy enough to say, but just look up and see how far we are from the top."

They looked up. The hole was all of thirty-five or forty feet deep, and from ten to fifteen feet across. The sides were of dirt and rocks, covered here and there with wet moss.

Luckily they had landed on a pile of half-decayed leaves and tree branches, otherwise they must have been seriously injured. The rushes and some dirt had fallen all around them.

For a full minute neither spoke. During that time they examined the walls of the hole.

"We've got to get out somehow," said Dick, at last. "But to climb that wall seems impossible."

"Let us try it, anyway," returned Leander.

He found what he considered the best place, where several jagged rocks projected, and by digging his hands into the soil succeeded in pulling himself up a distance of eight or ten feet.

"Look out!"

As Dick uttered the cry he leaped back out of danger.

Down came several of the rocks, accompanied by a great mass of dirt.

Leander followed, to roll over on his back on top of the pile.

"Great Cæsar!" gasped the fallen one. "I didn't think I was going to pull down the whole wall over me."

"Don't try that again, or we may be buried alive," cautioned Dick.

"I don't think I will try it," was the rueful answer. "But, Dick, we must get out."

"That's true."

"Let us yell for help."

"I don't believe anybody is within hearing distance."

"Never mind, we can try it."

Both raised their voices, not once, but half a dozen times. Then they listened intently.

"Did you hear anything?" asked Dick.

"Not a sound."

Their faces fell. What were they to do next?

"If we only had a rope," sighed Leander.

"Or a long pole."

They walked around the flooring of the hole dismally. Then Dick drew out his watch and his face brightened.

"The fifteen minutes are up. They'll be hunting for us presently."

He was right; the others of the expedition were both hunting and calling, but nothing was seen or heard of them.

Led by old Jacob the party went through the orange grove, but came up a goodly distance to the left of the hole in which the poor boys were prisoners of nature.

Another quarter of an hour went by. To Dick and Leander it seemed an age. Again they cried out, but the top of the hole being smaller than the bottom, their voices were as muffled as though they were prisoners in a huge bottle.

"This is truly a pickle," groaned Dick, as he threw himself on one of the fallen rocks. "I must say, I'm stumped."

"So am I."

"I'm going to try throwing stones out of the hole," said Dick, after another interval of silence. "Anything is better than doing nothing."

Both boys began to shy out all of the stones they could pick up.

"We're really making the hole deeper," observed Leander, when suddenly the opening above them was darkened, and they saw a negro boy looking down at them with eyes as big as saucers.

"Hullo, help us out!" cried Leander, eagerly; but at the sound of their voices the negro boy took to his heels as fast as he could go.

"He's gone!"

"Perhaps he has gone for a rope."

"More than likely he was scared to death. He'll go home and say he saw a ghost."

Another quarter of an hour went by. Then they heard footsteps approaching, and two stalwart Caribs appeared. Behind them came the little boy, trembling with fear.

"Hullo!" repeated Leander. "Help us out, will you?"

"Un Americano!" muttered one of the Caribs. "How you git down dar?" he asked, in broken English.

"We fell through the rushes."

"Um – bad place dis to walk."

"So we have discovered. Will you kindly help us out?"

Both of the negroes nodded. Then they withdrew, to consult one with another. Presently they came back.

"How much give if pull you out de hole?" demanded the one who had previously spoken.

"Give?" came from both boys simultaneously.

"Ye – as, Americano rich boys, not so?"

"No, we are not rich," replied Dick in disgust. "But we'll pay you, don't fear."

"How much give?"

"Oh, I don't know."

"We'll give you a dollar," added Leander. "Gosh, but they believe in making money, don't they," he added, in a whisper.

"No take dollar," came from the Porto Rican. "Take ten dollar."

"Ten dollars!" gasped Dick, not so much over the amount of the sum, but because of the "cheek" in asking it. "You don't want much, do you?"

"We'll give two dollars – we can't pay any more," said Leander.

But at this the Caribs shook their woolly heads. They were bound to make money out of the Americans' misfortune. Such a thing as being generous never entered their heads.

"Ten dollar, or we go away again," said the one who could speak broken English.

"We'll give you three dollars," said Dick.

"No, ten dollar."

To this the Caribs stuck, and at last the boys promised them the amount.

"But you have got to pull us out first," said Leander.

Even to this the negroes demurred, and in the end it was agreed to pay five dollars first, and the second five when they were safe.

Dick took some Spanish money and tied it in, a handkerchief, which he threw up so that the largest of the Caribs could catch it. Then one of the natives ran off to get a long rope.

Getting up out of the hole by the aid of the rope was comparatively easy. As soon as the youths were on the top of the earth once more, each of the natives caught a boy and held him.

"Now pay udder five dollars to Bumbum," grinned the leader of the pair.

"Is your name Bumbum?" demanded Dick.

"Yes, señor."

"All right, Bumbum, here is the money, and let me say that I think you about the meanest Porto Rican on the island."

"Bumbum must earn his living, señor."

"I don't call this earning a living. What do you do, as a general rule? Lie about to squeeze strangers?"

At this the Carib's face darkened. "No insult me, or you be sorry!" he cried, and made a movement as if to draw some weapon from his bosom.

"Come, let us be going," cried Leander, in alarm.

"I'm ready," was Dick's reply, and they hurried off in one direction, while Bumbum and his companion, accompanied by the negro boy, stalked off in another. Soon the two parties were lost to sight of each other; but that was not the last, by any means, that was seen of the wily Caribs.

CHAPTER XIII
THE WAYSIDE INN

"Well, well, boys, where have ye been? We've been a-huntin' high an' low fer ye!"

And so speaking, old Jacob rushed up to them, followed by all the others.

Dick told their story, to which the remainder of the party listened with close attention.

"It's lucky the Caribs came up," was Robert Menden's comment. "But they made you pay dearly for their services."

"It was downright robbery!" burst out the old Yankee tar. "If I run across 'em, I'll make 'em give up nine dollars o' the money, sure; mark my words on't!"

"Well, I'm mighty glad we are out of it," said Leander. "I wouldn't want to spend a night down in that hole for twice ten dollars."

"Nor I," added Dick. "Next time I'll be sure where I am stepping."

They continued on their way until five o'clock, when it began to rain.

"No use of getting wet," declared Robert Menden. "I move we seek shelter for the night."

This was agreed to, and they hurried on to where there stood a sort of wayside inn – a rambling, two-story affair, built of rough stone and whitewashed.

A tall and not overly-pleasant looking Spaniard received them, and soon Dick had arranged for supper, lodging and breakfast for the entire party.

The wayside inn was almost deserted, only the proprietor, his wife and a negro servant being present.

They were shown to two rooms in the second story – low apartments, but well ventilated – and here their host left them, stating that supper would be ready at seven o'clock.

The boys surveyed the apartments with interest. Each room was perfectly square, with its floor covered with a rough matting of sea-grass. The walls were bare, saving for one or two religious pictures miserably executed. The beds were old-fashioned "four-posters," covered with straw ticks and plain white sheets, nothing more.

"They don't need blankets," observed old Jacob. "A man can keep warm without half tryin'. Thet's why the windows ain't got no glass in 'em, an' there ain't no stoves around."

The rain continued to come down steadily, so that they could not roam about the place. After a general washing up, they went below, to find their host, Jose Maguel, snoring lustily in an easy-chair in the parlor.

"Half-past six," said Menden, looking at his watch. "I wonder what they will give us for supper?"

"He promised us chicken," answered Dick. "But it ought to be cooking by this time."

He walked through the dining-room and into the apartment that did duty as a kitchen. Beyond, in the yard, the servant was stirring up a small charcoal fire, built under a shelter of palm thatch, the sides being open so that the smoke and heat might escape.

Presently a negro boy hove into view on the road. He carried in his hand the body of a dead rooster. As he came closer, Dick saw that the fowl had steel spurs attached to his legs.

"A dead gamecock," he muttered. "I'll wager there has been cock-fighting somewhere, and Señor Maguel is going to dish us up the defeated fowl."

Dick hurried back to the others and told them of what he had seen. At once old Jacob grew indignant and rushed to the rear of the inn, where the servant was in the act of decapitating the dead fowl with an axe.

"We won't eat thet, consarn ye!" he cried, pointing his long, bony finger at the fowl. "We want chicken – good barnyard fowls – an' don't ye forgit it!"

The girl did not understand a word of what was said, but she understood his actions and stepped back, dropping the gamecock as she did so. At once old Jacob secured the fowl, and marched into the inn with it, and up to where Jose Maguel still sat snoring in the chair. A shake of the shoulder aroused the innkeeper, and he gazed in bewilderment when the old Yankee tar held up the gamecock before his nose.

"Do ye suppose civilized Americans air a-goin' to eat thet?" came from old Jacob, wrathfully. "I'd jest as lief eat crow. We want real chicken, killed fer the purpose o' eating, understand?"

"Un Americano no like dis?" queried Jose Maguel, mildly.

"No, we don't like it, not by a jugful. You give us real chicken."

"Dis chicken – good chicken."

"It's a slaughtered fowl from one o' yer cockfights," roared old Jacob. "Like ez not, he's pizened from the other bird's cuts. Oh, I know all on ye do nothing but look at cock-fighting day in an' day out, much to yer discredit. We want good chicken, understand?"

"Yes. Señor shall have good chicken," growled the Spaniard; and inwardly very angry, but not daring to show it before so many strangers, he took the gamecock and passed into the kitchen with it.

"He'll make you eat it if he can," observed Leander. "He's mad clear through, I can see that."

"I'm going to watch him, lad, until the meal is on the table," replied old Jacob; and this he did, and made certain that they got a chicken which was caught and killed for that purpose. Cock-fighting is a national sport in Porto Rico, and it is a great trick to work off the slain fowls on anybody who does not know the difference, the natives rarely eating their fallen champions.

When supper was served it was by no means a bad meal, although all of the party had eaten better. It consisted of chicken, rice cakes, fried sweet potatoes, baked bananas, and bread and jelly, with strong native coffee. As they ate, the host sat by, but said nothing to them.

"We may as well retire early," observed Robert Menden. "We want to reach the vicinity of the caves by to-morrow."

"Did you ask the landlord about the caves?" queried Don.

"I mentioned them in an off-hand way, but he said he knew nothing about them." And this, let me add, is not strange, for it is but lately that the caves have become known to the great majority of people.

"We don't want to let anybody suspect our mission here," put in Bob. "They might follow and rob us, you know."

"Thet's it," added old Jacob. "As long as we know about where the caves are, ye had better keep yer trap closed. I allers found thet it paid not to talk too much in a strange country."

Robert Menden had his written description of the caves with him, and before retiring, all hands pored over this, hoping by it to gain some clew concerning the box with the initials, M. M. M.

The rain continued to come down, but it did not lightning and thunder, and the gentle patter-patter on the roof acted as a lullaby to the tired boys, everyone of whom went sound asleep in short order. Then Robert Menden and old Jacob dropped off, and all became quiet in the two rooms which the party occupied.

How long he slept Don did not know. But he awoke with a start and sat up, not knowing what had aroused him.

The room was in semi-darkness, the smoky lamp being turned down low. All of the others were sleeping soundly.

"Dick!" he cried softly, but there was no reply from his chum.

"Bob! Leander!" he continued after a long pause. Still no answer, saving a long snore from Bob, as he turned over restlessly.

"It's mighty queer what woke me up," thought the boy. He usually slept well.

He dropped back on the bed and tried to go to sleep again.

But the effort was a failure, and though he lay back with his eyes tightly closed, he was as wide-awake as before.

Then, of a sudden, although he heard nothing, a peculiar sensation stole over him, and he became convinced that some stranger was in the apartment!

CHAPTER XIV
THE MAN IN THE ROOM

Don shivered, but said nothing.

He felt positive that he was right – that somebody was moving around the room – yet so far he had not heard a sound.

"Can it be the landlord?" he asked himself. "If it is, what is he doing here?"

The bed in which the boy rested was turned in such a fashion that he could see but a small portion of the apartment in his present position.

As noiselessly as he could, he shifted about until the entire room was within his range of vision.

He was just in time to behold a shadow cross the doorsill and glide into the next apartment, where Robert Menden, old Jacob and Danny were sleeping.

Then a slight puff of air came in at one of the windows, extinguishing the smoky lamp and leaving all in total darkness.

"Wake up, all of you!" cried Don, at the top of his lungs. "Somebody is here who doesn't belong here!"

At his cry one after another leaped up.

"What's thet?" demanded old Jacob.

"Somebody just entered your room."

"There he goes – out of the window!" ejaculated Robert Menden, and ran toward the spot, only to stumble over a chair and stub his toe so severely that he set up a howl of pain.

Old Jacob turned quickly enough to see the man's head as he swung from the window-sill to the ground below, a distance of less than twelve feet. In the darkness he saw the fellow, a native, rush away at top speed.

"Stop, ye villain!" he roared. "Stop, or I'll fire!" Then he ran to his bed to get his revolver, which had been placed under his pillow, but by the time he reached the window again the midnight marauder had disappeared into a wood opposite the inn.

"He must have entered the rooms for the purpose of robbing us," said Dick. "Let us light the lamp and see if anything is missing."

A match was struck and the lamp turned up as high as possible, and then they began an examination of their clothing and bundles. Only one set of trouser-pockets had been cleaned out – those belonging to Bob, who had lost a good knife, a bunch of keys and a couple of dollars in Spanish small change. Nothing else had been disturbed.

"Don scared him off," said Dick. "Otherwise he would have gone through every pocket and package in the two rooms," and the others agreed with him.

"I'd like to catch the rascal," grumbled Bob. "That knife was a prize one and I don't want to lose it – nor the money neither."

"We would have a job tracking that thief in this storm," answered Robert Menden. "Let us be thankful the matter is no worse, and be more on our guard in the future."

The noise in the rooms had awakened the landlord of the inn and he now knocked on the door, demanding what was the matter. He drew down the corners of his mouth when told.

"The Porto Rico brigands, señors," he said. "Be glad they no knife you!" and he shivered.

"Perhaps," said old Jacob, laconically. "But maybe you are in with them," he muttered to himself, as he turned away. The gamecock episode still hung in his mind, and certainly the landlord's general appearance was much against him.

For the balance of the night one or another of the party was awake, and it was decided that in the future they should take turns on the watch, just as had been done on the yacht.

In the morning they had breakfast very early, having contracted for this beforehand. Had they not done so, nobody at the inn would have stirred before eight o'clock, and breakfast would not have been on the table until nine or ten. To many living in Porto Rico time seems to be of little value. Almost all of the business is done between ten and twelve o'clock in the morning, and after that the shopkeeper locks up his place and takes a nap until four or five o'clock, opening up again in the evening, which is really the busiest part of the whole twenty-four hours.

The storm had cleared off and now the atmosphere was sultry and oppressive, the evaporations from the forests going up like clouds of steam.

"Phew! this is going to be a corker!" exclaimed Dick, as he mopped the perspiration from his brow. They had covered less than two miles, and yet he felt completely dragged out.

"We'll take a rest when we come to a suitable spot," announced Robert Menden. "But we must push on all we can before twelve o'clock. Nobody will want to move a step between that time and four, mark my words."

Menden had scarcely spoken when a large flock of birds arose directly in front of them. The young hunters could not resist the temptation to take a shot at the creatures, and one after another fired their weapons, bringing down seven of the birds.

"Good enough!" cried Robert Menden. "I see that all of you can shoot, and I am glad of it, for there is no telling what will turn up before this treasure-hunt is over."

"Before I leave Porto Rico I want a little chance to hunt and fish," said Dick. "It wouldn't be a real summer outing without that."

"I'm out fer dat money dis trip," put in Danny. "Say, I hopes yer git about a million dollars, so I do!" and he shook his head enthusiastically.

"Don't speak of it quite so loudly, Danny," cautioned the Englishman. "This is a secret search, you know."

"Yes, dat's so – I forgot," answered the Irish lad. "I'll be as mum as an oyster after dis."

Coming to a bit of high ground overlooking one of the numerous valleys of upper Porto Rico, they sat down on several flat rocks to rest.

Robert Menden calculated that they were within a few miles of Caguas, and announced that the next night might be spent there.

"And then we must pick up some reliable native guide to take us to the great caves," he added.

The scenery from where they sat was truly grand. Hills and valleys were clothed in every variety of tropical growth, from the tallest of royal palms to the heavy grass – grass the like of which none of the boys had ever seen. Far in the distance were the great mountains, ranging along for miles, their sharp ridges clearly defined against the blue sky. Smaller ridges came down toward them, the lower ones more smooth on their tops, and covered with great patches of grass, where fed cattle and sheep innumerable.

"It's certainly a charming island, so far as looks go," murmured Leander. "But I believe this atmosphere would make the most active man in the world lazy sooner or later."

"It's a good climate for invalids," said Robert Menden. "Some day Porto Rico is bound to become a great winter resort for Americans and others."

"I want to get to the top of yonder mountains before I leave," put in Leander. "If we – Great Scott! Look out!"

He leaped up in terror; and small wonder, for from under the flat rock a serpent, all of seven feet long, had glided. Now it raised its head and showed its cruel fangs, as if to strike at one or another of the startled party.