Going out to one of the sheds across the yard I called together the Indians who were regularly employed as labourers on the farm, and told them that their master was wanted directly on business, requesting them all to spread themselves over the cultivated land, and to try and find him.

To my utter astonishment the elder of the party raised one hand with the palm outwards, uttered a few words, and one and all the Indians returned to their work.

“They didn’t understand you, Mas’r Harry,” said Tom.  “Tell them again.”

I spoke to the men once more, but they maintained a gloomy silence.  Then, and then only, I resorted to threats, to find a wonderful unanimity of purpose amongst them, for every man’s hand in an instant was on his knife, and they were evidently prepared to offer a fierce resistance.

“Come away, Mas’r Harry,” said Tom uneasily; “we don’t want no fighting now; but this seems rum, the men turning like that all of a sudden.”

“I’m afraid that there’s a sort of freemasonry existing amongst them, Tom,” I said, “and these men are evidently under orders.  But let us see whether my uncle has returned, for I begin to be afraid that this gold is about to bring a curse with it.”

“I don’t believe in no curses, Mas’r Harry; but we ain’t a-going to be allowed to get it away without a deal of dodging, and perhaps a scrimmage.  They’ve got part of it back, Mas’r Harry, but I don’t think they’ll get the big lot unless we go and show them where we’ve stowed it away.”  I hurried into the house to find that the old notary had fallen asleep, while my aunt was uneasily walking about.  “Have you found him, Harry?” she exclaimed.  “Not yet, Aunt.  I thought he might have returned.”  Without waiting to hear her reply I ran back to Tom, who was watching the Indians.

“Look here, Mas’r Harry,” he exclaimed.  “Here’s just the very spot where we left your uncle, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” I said.

“Well, this is just in view of those Indian chaps, and so is the way into the house all in full view of them.”

“Quite right, Tom.”

“Well, nothing couldn’t have taken place without them seeing it.  But something did take place, and I’ll tell you why.  If Mas’r Landell had only walked off somewhere to see how his coffee or cocoa was growing, and where it wanted hoeing up, do you think that Muster Indian there would have been above saying so?  Not he, Mas’r Harry.  But what does he do now?  Why, he turns stunt, and won’t answer a word; and what does that show, eh?  Why, that, as I said before, we didn’t ought to have left your poor uncle, who’s been knocked on the head, and robbed, and then hidden away.  Well, do you know what we’ve got to do now, Mas’r Harry?”

“Search for him, of course,” I said emphatically.

“To be sure, and both together, or we may get knocked on the head too; and I shouldn’t like that on account of Sally Smith and Miss ­”

“Tom,” I said, “your tongue runs too fast.  Let us have more action.  Come along.  And as to your knocking-on-the-head work, we have nothing to fear there so long as we have no gold about us.”

“Gently there, Mas’r Harry,” said Tom.  “We’ve got no gold about us, I know; but how many people know that, eh?  Well, I’ll tell you ­two; and I’m one, and you’re the other.  You keep a sharp look-out, and don’t you trust nobody at all with a red skin, and only two or three who have got white.”

As we conversed we kept on advancing towards the plantation rows, when Tom stooped down so as to gaze intently at the ground, and then trotted slowly along, as if seeking for a place where the grass was broken down ­an example I followed, to halt at length, with the Indians watching me intently from the shed as I reached a spot nearly opposite to the part of the verandah where I had parted with my uncle.

“Come here, Tom!” I said in a low voice; and he ran up.  “What do you think of this?”

“Been beaten-down and then smoothed over again,” said Tom excitedly.  “Something has been dragged over here, Mas’r Harry.”

“So I thought, Tom,” I exclaimed.  “Now let us try whether an Englishman can follow a trail; for it looks as if my uncle must have passed along here.”

There was evidently a display of some little excitement amongst the Indians in the shed as we took our first steps along a well-marked track.

“They saw it, Mas’r Harry!” exclaimed Tom.  “Look at ’em.”

I did not answer, for my eyes were glued to the track, which now showed plainly that a body had been dragged along through the tender herbage in a perfectly straight line; and I was not long in perceiving that the track went in the direction of the little wood where Lilla had had her terrible adventure with the snake.

The affair began to show now in blacker colours each moment; and I shuddered at last as I stopped short, and pointed to a plainly-to-be-seen smear upon a broad frond.

“Blood, Mas’r Harry!” exclaimed Tom hoarsely; and then I heard him mutter to himself ­“Poor Mas’r Landell!”

We pushed on, to find the same track still; the heavy body that had been dragged over the young plantation growth leaving it bruised and broken beyond the elastic power of the plants to recover themselves.  Two or three times the track made a sudden turn, as if he who made it had sought to avail himself of an inequality in the ground; and then, once more, it went right away for the forest, in whose depths it disappeared.

Twice more we had both shuddered as we observed the faint smears of blood upon some leaf; but there was a stern determination in my breast to see the adventure to the end; for I felt that it was to a great extent due to me that my uncle had been stricken down ­for stricken down he must have been, I now felt sure.

Following Tom’s example, I drew and cocked a pistol; and then we pushed aside the foliage, which grew densely as soon as we had passed through the plantation, moving forward cautiously, and expecting to see an enemy spring up from every tuft of thick growth.

“Why, the trail goes right down where the snake went, Mas’r Harry!” cried Tom suddenly.

“Towards the river, Tom,” I said huskily; for it was now plain enough; and my heart seemed to stand still, and my breath to come in gasps, as my imagination conjured up horror after horror that must have befallen the free, generous hearted man who had ever given me so warm a welcome to his home.

“Keep a sharp look-out, Mas’r Harry,” whispered Tom, as a rustling amongst the bushes and swamp-loving grass told of something rapidly retreating towards the river.

Then once more the trail turned off, and it was plain enough to see that it was now pointing right for the thick reed and cane-brake where we had slain the jaguar; and my heart told me plainly enough that, if this track had been made by some one dragging my uncle’s body, it was in order to dispose of it in the great reptile-haunted stream.

There was a strangely strong inclination to stay back and leave Tom to finish the adventure, but with an effort I crushed it down; and now, close abreast, we crept on, pushing the reeds and canes aside as we entered the brake, sinking to our knees at every stride, and feeling to our horror that the ooze beneath our feet was alive with little reptiles.

“Make haste, Tom!” I cried, shuddering in spite of my efforts to drive away the tremor I felt.

Tom responded to my words, and we were pushing and forcing our way on, when the horror that was oppressing me would have its way, and ­be it boyish, unmanly, what you will ­I gave vent to a cry, torn from me by the extreme dread I felt as my further progress was stayed by something invisible to me amongst the thick reeds, suddenly seizing me by the leg.