It was with a feeling of thankfulness
that can be well understood that we returned once
more to the small cavern, to seek the rest and refreshment
of which we were all so much in need.
The words of encouragement we were
able to utter respecting our present safety were most
thoroughly needed, while the lights we now ventured
to burn took off something of the sense of oppression
caused by the darkness.
Our arrangements were soon made for
one to be always on guard, and trusting to the dread
of the Indians for our safety in other directions,
we gladly partook of the welcome rest.
At the end of some hours we were seated
together to consult upon our future operations, and
arrived at the decision that the sooner we set off
the better, and the next night was fixed upon for our
departure.
“You see, Harry,” said
my uncle, “that the difficulty is in journeying
through the forest; if once we can strike a stream,
the rest is easy.”
“Or would be if we had boats, uncle, or ”
I stopped short, for I had recalled
the skin-raft once more, and the possibility of increasing
its size. As my uncle had said, if once we could
hit upon a good stream, the rest would be easy, floating
ever downward from stream to river, and from river
to one of the great waterways.
Then came the subject of the treasure.
“But are you sure that you have it safe?”
said my uncle anxiously.
“As safe, Uncle, as I soon hope
to have our other treasures,” I said, cheerfully.
A visit to the mouth of the cave showed
that all was still, and the valley to all appearance
deserted.
But our walk was not unprofitable,
for we were able to collect a good bundle of pine-wood
for torches, left behind by the Indians brightly
burning, resinous wood, which cast a powerful light
when in use.
We found Tom watching his prisoner
on our return, and my aunt and Lilla ready to welcome
us gladly. But not a sigh was uttered not
a question as to when they might expect to escape;
they were patience exemplified.
As to the prisoner, Tom said that
he was as sulky as a bear with a sore head.
It was a great tie upon us, but upon retaining him
in safety rested our success; for it seemed evident
that the Indians believed that their share in the
matter was at an end, and had gone away strengthened
in their belief that it was death to him who penetrated
the mysterious portion of the cave, sacred to the
thunder god, Garcia not having returned.
My uncle relieved Tom not
to rest, but to aid me in seeking to recover the treasure;
but upon a second consideration it was determined not
to proceed further until the next morning.
Watching and sleeping in turns, the
next morning arrived, and we once more journeyed to
the mouth of the cave.
All in the vale was silent as the
grave; not a leaf rustling.
On returning, the mules were well
fed, only leaving one more portion. We breakfasted,
and the prisoner, compelled at last by hunger, condescended
to partake of some food; when we afterwards moved to
a narrow part, where our proceedings were to him invisible.
A rather anxious question now arose:
what were we to do with him?
We could not leave him bound, to die
of starvation in the darkness of the cavern; humanity
forbade the thought for an instant. We could
not take him with us, neither could we take his life
in cold blood, even though our safety depended upon
it.
“We must take him a part of
the way, and then leave him in some track, where there
is a possibility of his being found,” said my
uncle. “He ought to die, Harry; but we
cannot turn murderers.”
It was evident that our prisoner did
not expect much mercy; for we could see that his face
was absolutely livid when, pistol in hand, either of
us approached to examine his bonds; and once, in his
abject dread, he shrieked aloud to Lilla to come and
save him from me.
My uncle’s seemed the only plan
that we could adopt; and leaving him in charge, Tom
and I fixed our light at the head of the raft, and,
to the horror of Lilla and Mrs Landell, set off upon
our subterranean voyage one which produced
no tremor in us now, for familiarity had bred contempt.
The passage was safely traversed till
we came to the hiding-place of the treasure, when,
after a few attempts to fish up the packages, we found
that there was no resource but for one of us to plunge
boldly into the icy water.
Tom would have gone, but I felt that
it was my turn; and after divesting myself of my clothing
I lowered myself over the side of the raft, waded
a little, and then, after a few tries, succeeded in
bringing up, one at a time, the whole of the treasure.
Then, with a little contriving, I once more obtained
a place upon the heavily-weighted raft, dressed, and
we floated back in triumph to where, torch in hand,
stood Lilla gazing anxiously along the dark tunnel,
and ready to give a joyous cry as she saw our safe
return.
I sent Tom to relieve my uncle’s
guard, and he hurried excitedly to my side and helped
me to unload.
“Harry, my boy,” he exclaimed
huskily as we lifted the packages on to the rocks,
“I can hardly believe it. Is it true?”
I smiled in his face, and then with
more rope we bound the packages securely before leaving
them to drain off the water.
Our next act was to carefully take
the raft to pieces and save the bands by which it
was secured. This was no easy task, for the water
had saturated and tightened the fastenings, which
we did not cut, because they would be extremely valuable
in fastening it together again.
It proved to be a very, very long
job, but we worked at it with all our might, knowing
as we did that our future depended upon our getting
the pieces of our pontoon safely with us to some stream,
where we could fit it once more together and use it
to help in floating down to a place of refuge.
“It’s a rum job, Mas’r
Harry,” said Tom. “My word, if these
knots weren’t well tied! I never thought
about having to undo it over again.”
“Never mind, Tom; work away,” I cried.
“Oh! Ah! I’ll
work away,” he replied. “That’s
better! That’s one of ’em.
They won’t bear the lot, Mas’r Harry,
when we fits it together again?”
“If the raft is not strong enough,
Tom, we must make it stronger,” I said; and
he gave a grunt and worked away, tugging at the knots
and very often using his teeth.
At last, though, we had all the ties
secured together in a bunch ready for immediate use the
poles bound in small bundles, and the skins fastened
together by their necks, they having the advantage
of being very light.
Then followed a pause for rest and
refreshment, with a short consultation between my
uncle and me as to our plans, which resulted in a
busy hour at work, two of the mules being laden then
with the gold.
This was a very difficult task, as
the packages were so awkward and heavy, the object
being to make them secure against any antic on the
part of the mules if they became restive, and also
to guard against the corners of the plates rubbing
the animals’ backs.
“I’d give anything to
open those bags, Harry,” said my uncle.
“I feel as curious as a boy.”
“Take my word for it, Uncle,”
I replied, “that they are wonderful treasures.
Come, I’ll make a bargain with you.”
“What is it, my boy?”
“You shall do the unpacking
and the breaking up when we set to in safety, and
melt them down into ingots.”
“If we ever have the chance,” he said
sadly.
“Don’t be down-hearted,
Uncle,” I cried cheerily. “Recollect
we are English, and Englishmen never know the meaning
of the word `fail.’”
“True, my boy,” he replied;
“but we have our work before us.”
“And that’s just the work
we mean to get done,” said Tom, interposing
his opinion. “And now just you look here,
moke,” he continued, addressing the mule he
was helping to load one which kept on laying
down its ears and showing its teeth as if it meant
to bite “here am I a-doing all I
can to make your load easy and comfortable for your
ugly back, and you’re saying you’re a-going
to bite. Am I to kick you in the ribs?
’Cause if you’re not quiet I just will.”
The mule seemed to understand either
Tom’s words or the threatening movement of his
foot, for it allowed itself to be loaded in peace;
and soon after the valuable treasure was declared
to be quite safe, though I knew perfectly well that
any violent fit of kicking on the part of the obstinate
beasts must result in the whole being dislodged.
The next task was to apportion the
remainder of our extremely reduced stock of provision
between the two mules that my aunt and Lilla were to
ride; and upon these mules, on the off-side away from
the stirrup, I proposed to secure the light poles
and skins of the raft.
“They will be very awkward going
amongst the trees,” I said, “but it is
the best we can do.”
“Why not carry them?” said my uncle.
“Because we must have our hands free to use
our weapons,” I replied.
“True, my lad,” he said,
“and we might have to drop and not recover them.”
“They’ll be no end of
a bother for the ladies, Mas’r Harry,”
said Tom. “Lookye here: they sticks
’ll ride as comf’able as can be atop of
the gold bags. Why not have ’em here?”
“Because, Tom, it may be necessary
to leave the gold bags behind, and we shall want the
raft to escape.”
“Leave the gold behind, Mas’r
Harry!” he cried; “not if I know it.”
“Life is worth more than gold, Tom,” I
said in reply.
Tom made no answer. He only
set his teeth very hard, and the skins and poles were
secured just as I wished.
Towards evening, according to arrangement,
Tom led the way with one of the gold mules; my uncle
followed leading another and bearing a light, and
the others required no inducement to keep close behind.
Garcia must have imagined that he
was to be left to starve, for he did not see me as
I stood back listening to the pattering of the mules’
feet upon the hard rock, and the silence that fell
directly after when they touched sand; and, raising
his voice, he gave so wild and despairing a shriek
that my uncle came hurrying back.
“Harry, my dear lad, surely you have not ”
“No, Uncle,” I said contemptuously,
“I had not even spoken. It was his coward
heart that smote him.”
Loosening his legs, which of late
we had slackened so as to guard against numbness,
we made him rise; and then forcing my arm under his,
I led him along till we overtook the last mule bearing
my aunt; and then our slow, dark journey was continued
till, nearing the entrance, the lights were extinguished
and my uncle, taking Tom’s place as leader, the
latter stole forward, and returned in half an hour
to say that the sun had set, and that though he had
watched long and carefully from the very mouth of
the cave, there was nothing to be seen.
We went forward then, to rest for
fully an hour in the cavern close now to the barrier,
for the darkness fell swiftly into the ravine, rolling,
as it were, down the mountain-sides; and then, with
beating hearts, we prepared to start, our course being
along the little valley to the entrance, and then,
according to my uncle’s plans, as nearly south-east
as we could travel until we could hit upon a stream.
The time for starting at length came,
and after a little further consultation Garcia was
once more carefully secured and laid upon his back
in the mouth of the cave, that being the only plan
we could adopt; and then, panting with excitement,
each man with all his weapons ready for immediate
action, we started in single file and began to move
down the ravine.
The darkness was intense, and but
for the sagacity of the leading mule our progress
would have been slow indeed; but the patient brute
went on at a quiet, regular pace, and his fellows
followed, the breathing of the animals and the slight
rustle through the herbage being all that smote the
ear.
I should think that we had gone about
a quarter of a mile, straining our eyes to catch sight
of an enemy on either side as we made our way through
what was like a dense bank of darkness, when, loud
and clear upon the night air, rang out a wild, strange
cry, which made us instinctively stop to listen.
Twice more it rang out, evidently
distant, but still plainly heard as it echoed along
the ravine.
“It is some beast of prey, but
it will not come near us,” said my uncle, to
encourage Mrs Landell.
“Harry, what is it?” whispered Lilla.
Her soft arm was passed round my neck
as she clung, trembling, to me, unable to master her
agitation.
“We must push on,” I said.
Once more the mules were in motion
when the cry rang out again, louder and clearer this
time.
I did not answer Lilla’s question,
for I thought it better not; but I had my own thoughts
upon the subject, and I was wondering whether my uncle
suspected the meaning of the cry, when I was startled
by a voice which seemed to rise out of the darkness.
“Mas’r Harry Mas’r
Harry! I shall never forgive myself. Only
to think of me being the one as tied the last knot,
and then never to think of gagging him. He’ll
be there shouting till he brings down all the Indians
within twenty miles. Let’s make haste,
for I sha’n’t breathe till we get out
of this great long furrer here.”
The darkness was still so thick that
we could hardly see the bushes against which we brushed,
while even when passing beneath dense masses of foliage
there seemed to be no difference. A hundred enemies
might have been right in front of us, and we should
have walked right into their midst.
It was a daring adventure; but it
was only by keeping on that we could hope to escape,
and if the black darkness did not prove our friend
until we were clear of the ravine, I felt that we
could hardly hope to get away.
The cries still continued at intervals;
but now every cry only seemed to nerve us to greater
exertion, and at last they sounded but faintly, as,
under the impression that we were now past the entrance
to the rift, I was about to tell Tom to try and bear
off to the right, if the undergrowth would allow.
We had all drawn up, and the mules were reaching
down their heads, tempted by the dewy grass, when Tom
gave a warning whisper; and directly after, just to
our left, came the sound of bodies moving through
the bushes, coming nearer and nearer, till about abreast,
when they turned off again, and seemed to be proceeding
up the ravine towards the cavern.
It was a painful five minutes as we
stood there, trembling lest one of the mules should
shake buckle or strap; for no one there, on afterwards
comparing notes, had a doubt as to the cause of the
sounds. It was evidently a body of some half
dozen men making their way as fast as the darkness
would allow, and it was not until all was once more
quiet that we could again breathe freely, and continue
our journey as swiftly as we could pass through the
trees.
We had no difficulty in journeying
to the right, and it soon became evident that we were
out of the rift; but I had very little hope of our
being able to continue in a straight line, seeking
the direction where we expected to find a river.
Our progress was necessarily slow,
but every half mile, we all felt, was that distance
nearer to safety. I was hopeful, too, about our
trail; the dew fell heavily, and that and the elastic
nature of the growth through which we passed, would,
I thought, possibly conceal our track from those who
might try to follow it.
And so we journeyed on through that
thick darkness, till the first grey dawn of day found
us still hurrying through the dripping foliage, heavy
everywhere with the moisture deposited during the night.