I would have given anything to have left my post just then, so as to have seen after the welfare of those who were anxiously awaiting the result of the attack; but I felt that such a proceeding might prove dangerous, and an entry be made during my brief absence.

But a minute had not elapsed before my uncle was at my side.

“They are all safe in the kitchen, Harry,” he said.  “But what does this mean?”

“Only a minute or two’s halt before they make a fiercer attack,” I said.

“No ’tain’t,” said Tom, who had stolen up unobserved; “they’re a-going to set us alight, and I’ve come to tell you.”

“Nonsense!” exclaimed my uncle.  “They’ll never burn the place till they have searched and plundered it.”

“I quite think with you, Uncle,” I said.

“But they’re a striking lights round my side,” said Tom.  “Come and look!”

We hurriedly passed round to Tom’s post, just in time to see the truth of his words, for as we peered cautiously from his window there was a little flickering tongue of flame apparently dancing towards one end of an outhouse.  Then it was applied to the thatched roof, and a howl of joy arose as the flame ran rapidly up towards the ridge.

Directly after, though, there arose a shout of rage, and more than one voice, so my uncle said, crying out for the fire to be extinguished; amongst which voices that of Garcia could plainly be heard.

The firing was evidently premature, and efforts were directly made to extinguish it.

A glance, though, showed that the attempt would be in vain; for, with a sharp hissing and crackling noise, the light material began to blaze rapidly, and my uncle gave a groan as he saw that his house was doomed to destruction.

A loud voice now shouted what were evidently orders, and a pattering of feet succeeded, as a fierce struggle now began, to tear out the blazing part of the outhouse before it reached the hacienda, against whose sides it was reared.

“Now is the time for escaping, Uncle,” I whispered, as I thought how easily we could have brought down a dozen or so of our assailants, whose dark figures stood out well against the fire.

“Yes,” he said slowly; “we must make the venture now, for in an hour the old place will be level with the ground.”

Then, casting off his lethargy, he hurriedly made for the kitchen, closely followed by Tom and myself, when we closed after us, and thoroughly barricaded, the inner door, while my uncle unfastened and looked out cautiously from that which led into the yard.

All was still on that side ­not an enemy to be seen ­when, hastily finishing the loading of the mules with the provisions, arms, and ammunition, Lilla was placed on one, my aunt on the other, and we had just determined upon opening the door to start across the yard, when a loud shout told that the enemy had made an entrance, and directly after we could hear footsteps coursing all over the house, as if in search of the gold that they expected to find; whilst one voice, which I twice heard shouting, sent a thrill through my body.

“Quick, Uncle!” I exclaimed, “before they find the kitchen door.”

“It is almost madness to try and escape, my lad,” said my uncle despondently.  “Had we not better fight it out from here?”

“No,” I exclaimed fiercely, as I threw open the door and gave a glance out, to see that this side of the house was in shadow, while a bright light was beginning to illumine the trees around.  “No; let us make for the forest.  Tom, bring the two pack-mules.  Uncle, lead the other.”

Then taking the bridle of Lilla’s mule in one hand, gun in the other, I led the way, trembling all the while with excitement, for we could hear the shouts of the searchers, and, above all, those of Garcia.  It seemed that every moment they must be upon us; but all four mules were led out at last and stood in the black shadow over on that side of the house.

“Don’t leave me, Harry!” whispered a voice at my side.

For an instant I wavered, and that instant nearly sealed our fate.

“Only for a few moments,” I said huskily.

I rushed to the kitchen door, dragged out the key, and inserted it on the outer side, with the Indians beating the while at the inner door, which was rapidly giving way, as they seemed now to have determined that it was here we had taken refuge.

Then I had the door to, locked it, and hurled away the key into the plantation, just as, with a crash, the inner door succumbed; and, headed by Garcia, the party of Indians rushed into the kitchen, to utter howls of rage and disappointment on finding it empty, and then began battering the door I had that moment locked.

Fortunately for us, the window was strongly barred; but I knew that some of them must be round directly; and dashing to Lilla’s bridle, “Come along!” I whispered hoarsely, and I led the mule towards the nearest packing shed.

To reach this place part of our way was in black shadow, the rest across a broad glowing band of light, after which we could hurry along behind two or three long low coffee sheds, keeping them between us and the fire, when the plantation trees would shelter us, I knew, till we could reach the forest.

“Quick ­quick!” I exclaimed.  “To the left of the shed!”

The yells behind us were fearful, the light of the fire growing momentarily more intense, for the flames were running swiftly up one side of the house, with the effect of broadening the glowing belt which we had to pass, when, if an eye was turned towards us, or the kitchen door were to give way, I knew that our efforts had been in vain, and that we should be overtaken and surrounded in a minute.

An anxious passage of only a few seconds’ duration, and I had led Lilla across, my uncle had followed with Mrs Landell, and Tom was close behind, when one of his mules turned restive, stopping short in the full glare of the flames, and I felt choking with rage and despair.

There was another shout as the flames shot higher ­another shout and another close at hand, with the pattering of feet, to show that the Indians were running round to our side of the house, when I saw Tom stoop for an instant, and his restive mule gave a bound; and then, as a chorus of yells smote our ears, we were once more in the shadow, hurrying along past first one and then another shed, which formed a complete screen, though the glare was momentarily growing brighter.

“I don’t like using the point of a knife for a spur, Mas’r Harry,” said Tom to me, as, leaving Lilla’s bridle once more for a moment, I ran back to urge him on; “but, blame this chap, he was obliged to have it, and he won’t turn nasty no more.  Never mind me ­I’ll keep up if I can, and you shall have the stuff I’ve got.  If I can’t keep up, why, I must be left behind, and you must save the ladies; but don’t hang back for me.”

I squeezed Tom’s hand and ran on, to find Lilla trembling so that she could hardly keep her seat; then, as she clung convulsively to my arm, we passed the shadow of the last shed, but not until we had paused for a few moments to listen to the chorus of savage yells in our rear.

“Now, Uncle!” I exclaimed.

“But where do you make for?” whispered my uncle.

“The great cave,” I said.

As I spoke we issued from the friendly shadow and passed on.

It seemed as if that plantation would never be passed and the shade of the great black forest reached.  The yells continued louder than ever, startling us by proceeding from unexpected spots, which showed us that the Indians, certain now of our evasion, were spreading in all directions.

“Another fifty yards,” I whispered to my uncle over my shoulder, “and then safety.”

For the great dense trees now rose like a large bronzed wall right in front; and though full of dangers, we were ready enough to dare those sooner than the peril of meeting the fierce party of Indians who sought our lives.

We pushed forward now, heedless of shout and cry, though some of them appeared to come from close by on our left.  There was the forest which was to prove a sanctuary, and at last the cocoa-trees were behind, and we were parting the dense growth that now hid from us the glow of the burning house.

“There is a track more to the right, Harry,” whispered my uncle.

Turning in that direction, I hurried the mule, burning as I did to get on to the direct route to the cavern.  I had whispered a few encouraging words to Lilla, and was then thinking how my locking the kitchen door had retarded the enemy and given us time to escape, when I felt that, worn out and overcome by the excitement and terrors of the night, my companion had given way and was sinking, fainting, from the saddle.

By an effort, though, I kept her in her place, and whispered to my uncle to take the lead, so that our mule might follow.

He did so; and then, with the cries of the searching Indians still ringing in our ears, we pushed on till, under my uncle’s guidance, we reached the open track, and I whispered to him the direction we had followed to reach the cave.

“I think if we pursue this path for about a mile, Harry, we can then turn off to the right and reach your track ­that is, if we do not lose our way.”

So spoke my uncle; and then, all burdened as I was, I levelled my gun and uttered a warning cry to my companions; for there was a rustling on our left, a heavy panting, and then with a loud and triumphant yell a couple of savages sprang out into the dim twilight of the open space where we were standing.

“Let them have us all dead, not living, Hal,” said my uncle, his sad tones giving place to those of fierce excitement.

And he, too, levelled his piece just as, with a fresh burst of yells, the savages dashed on.

Two loud, echoing reports ­two dimly-seen, shadowy figures falling back into the underwood ­and then we were hurrying along the track as fast as we could urge the mules.

“There is another path farther on, Harry,” said my uncle; “we must reach that.”

Onward, then, we went through the gloomy shades, black now as night could make them, not even daring to pause to try whether we could detect the sounds of pursuit.  That the reports of our guns would bring the Indians to that spot we had no doubt, but I was hopeful that they might not at first find the bodies of their companions; and if they did not, I knew that all endeavours to trace us by the mule-trail until the morning would be futile.

Now the way was of pitchy blackness, then an opening would give us a glimpse of the stars.  The track was found and pursued for a long distance, and then my uncle called a halt, and we listened for some minutes for tokens of pursuit, but all was now still save the nocturnal cries of the inhabitants of the wilderness through which we were passing.

Tom standing now close up, my uncle asked me if I thought I could recognise where we were.

I could not; but Tom made a sort of circle, examining some of the great tree-trunks around.

“It’s all right, Mas’r Harry,” he said; “we’re on the right track for Goldenland.  That’s it, straight away there to the left.”

“But are you sure, Tom?” I said.  “Recollect how important it is that we should be right.”

“Well, so I do,” said Tom gruffly.  “But there, if you won’t believe one donkey, you perhaps will another.  Now, look ye here, Mas’r Harry, this here left-hand mule of mine is one of them as we took with us to the cave, and we’ll have his opinion.  If he goes off to the right, I’m wrong; but if he remembers the way and goes off to the left, why, it’s being a witness in my favour.  Now, then, moke, cock them old long ears of yours and go ahead.”

As he spoke Tom led one of his mules to the front, gave it a clap on the back, and it trotted forward and went off down the dark track Tom had declared for.

“Now, who’s right, Mas’r Harry?” said Tom triumphantly, as he halted at the opening into the ravine, just as, far above us, we could see, pale, cold, and stately, mountain peak after mountain peak, whose icy slopes were just growing visible, lit by the faint streak in the east which told of the coming day.

Tom led on again, and by degrees the familiar sides of the ravine became more and more steep and craggy, the way grew narrower, the music of the little rill was audible; and at last, just as the sun was rising, we reached the rocky barrier of the great cave, and prepared to halt.

But there was no occasion.  Tom’s left-hand mule slowly began to climb the rocks, the second mule followed, as did those ridden by my aunt and Lilla, without word or urging, and we were just congratulating ourselves upon our escape, when Tom, who had crept close to me as I turned for an instant to peer back along the valley, pointed with one hand towards the left side where the crags stood out most roughly.

I followed his pointing finger and then started, as I was just in time to see a dark form, barely visible in the shadow beneath some overhanging rocks, crawl silently away with a stealthy, cat-like motion.

“Jaguar, Tom?” I said, though my heart gave my lips the lie.

“Indian!” said Tom laconically; and then I knew that our coming would soon be spread through the tribe of those who constituted the guardians of the treasure, for this was evidently one posted as a sentinel to watch still the sacred place where the treasure might yet again be brought to rest when those who were its enemies should sleep.