



Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England




The Golden Magnet, by George Manville Fenn.

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Books by George Manville Fenn are full of dreadful situations which the
reader cannot see the way out of.  This one is no exception, in fact we
would easily say that it is one of his best.

Harry goes adventuring, and with him goes Tom, a young worker at Harry's
father's soap-boiling factory.  Tom is wonderful.  He gets Harry out of
numerous dire situations, and the book would not work without him.  He
is down-to-earth, and full of commonsense and energy.

Despite all sorts of adverse conditions and persons, they get the gold,
and put everybody's affairs to rights, killing the villain, of course,
on the way.  And marrying the heroine, even though she is his first
cousin.

A good example of a late nineteenth century teenager's book, and if you
like that sort of thing you will enjoy it too, for it is what used to be
called a crackingly good yarn.

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THE GOLDEN MAGNET, BY GEORGE MANVILLE FENN.



CHAPTER ONE.

INTRODUCTORY.

Daybreak in the Incas' realm on the far western shores, known to our
fathers as the great wonderland--the great country discovered by
adventurous mariners, and thought of, dreamed of, seen through a golden
mist raised by the imagination--a mist which gave to everything its own
peculiar hue; and hence the far-off land was whispered of as "El
Dorado," the gilded, "the Golden Americas," and the country whose rivers
ran over golden sand, whose rocks were veined with the coveted ore; and
nations vied with each other in seeking to humble the haughty Spaniard,
whose enterprise had gained him the strongest footing in the coveted
region.

Daybreak at Tehutlan, the Incas' city, in the year 1533, and the peaks
of the mighty mountains that appeared to pierce the bright blue sky,
appearing to bear out the fabulous belief of the eastern lands, for
their icy summits glowed, and flushed, and sparkled in the rays of the
sun, which gilded every pinnacle and turned each glacier into a river of
gold, seeming to flow slowly downwards towards the vales and plains of
the Andes, as yet flooded with the darkness of the night.

But soon the purple flood of darkness began to give place to golden
light, as, still streaming down, as it were, from the mountain tops, the
sunshine leaped in bright cataracts from point to point, rushing up this
dark gully, that vast fissure, turning gloom into glowing landscape, and
at last filling the vast vales with gladness and life, as the glowing
picture burst into full beauty.

Here, at the foot of the mountains, flowed the mighty rivers of South
America, bordered by the vast, eternal tropic forest, with its dank,
steaming moisture--the home of the fierce beast, the loathsome reptile,
and insect plagues innumerable.  Far up the mountains was the land of
ice and snow, fierce biting wind, and sleety tempest, with here and
there patches of verdure, the pastoral land of the vicuna and llama
flocks; but in the intermediate space, balanced, as it were, between the
tropical heat and the wintry frosts, on the table-lands half-way up the
mountains, was the stronghold of the Peruvian civilisation.  So near to
the equator that intolerable heat might have been expected, an
expectation, though, not fulfilled, for the elevation gave to the
Peruvians a glorious climate, with all the brightness but none of the
enervation of equatorial land.

Cottage, house, and palace, of no mean construction, were scattered here
and there, the homes of peasant and Peruvian noble.  But it was upon the
temple crowning a near elevation that the eye would rest, in rapt
astonishment at its magnificence and grandeur.  The description may
sound like a scrap from some eastern fable, but none the less it is a
fact culled from the pages of history.

For as that bright morning sun peered at length above the shoulder of an
eastern hill, it was to shine full upon the Temple of the Sun and its
glorious gardens.

Gold--gold everywhere--gold and precious stones.  Fronting the great
entrance, and ready to receive its first beams, was a golden
representation of the sun itself--a vast golden face surrounded by rays
stretching out in every direction--vast, massive, and glowing
effulgently, reflecting back the sun's rays, and lighting the interior
of the gold-decked temple.

For there was no paltry gilding here, but massive golden cornice,
frieze, plate, stud, and boss ornamenting the massive walls--glistening,
sparkling, and flashing back the sun's light, while, as if these were
not sufficient, emeralds and other precious stones were lavishly spread
in further ornamentation, adding their lustrous sheen to the warm glow
already diffused through the magnificent building.  Flash, sparkle--
glistening streams of golden light, dancing like golden water upon the
gorgeous walls, gilding even those who entered, so that face and
garments were bathed and dyed in the glorious radiance, till the eye of
the beholder ached, and the darkened intellects of the simple Peruvians
might well believe that they were in the presence of the sun-god
himself.

But not only was gold lavished upon the stone building, even to adorning
its outer walls with a broad belt of the precious metal--solid, massive,
and magnificently wrought; but the implements and vessels of the temple
were of the yellow treasure.  Huge vases stood upon the floor filled
with the produce of their land--offerings to the sun; perfume-censers,
water-cruses, cistern-pipes, reservoirs, all were of the rich, ruddy
metal.

The Peruvians called the ore in their language of imagery "the tears
wept by the sun;" and these tears they toiled to gather, and their
artificers worked them up with a cunning skill under the direction of
the priests; and, as if to complete the wonders of the temple, and to
give it adornments that should never lose their lustre, never fade, it
was surrounded by an Aladdin-like garden whose plants were gold--golden
of leaf, silver of stem, and with flowers sparkling in combinations of
the two metals.  Fountains of gold cast up golden water to fall back in
golden basins--a mimic spray; and even then fresh objects of the
goldsmith's skill were seen in the golden-fleeced llamas grouped around.

But the glory of the Incas was passing.  After a long period of
prosperity the evil days were at hand, the wondrous barbaric
civilisation was about to be swept away; for the adventurous Spaniard,
moved by his thirst for the gold, of whose existence rumour had from
time to time told him, was now in the land.  The simple people, coasting
along in their light balsas or rafts, had seen the coming of what to
them were then wondrous ships, cock-boats, though, as compared even to
our collier brigs.  War and rapine were in the land; the arms of the
Spaniards--the thunder and lightning they bore with them in their guns--
were everywhere victorious, and the riches of the temples were seized;
gloriously wrought vessels were hastily molten down into ingots, along
with plate, shield, and wonderfully-worked flowers; rapacity was
triumphant, and upon one occasion the value of the treasure collected
and melted down into bars was computed at three millions and a half
pounds sterling of our money.

The temples and their adornments were many and held sacred by the
people, a sanctity they had ventured to hope would be observed by the
conquerors; but the delusion was of short duration.  The coming of a
body of Spaniards was the signal for the stripping of each gorgeous
building.  Sacred vessel and ornament were seized upon and borne off;
but the news was spread from temple to temple, from priest to priest,
through the length and breadth of the land by means of swift-footed
couriers, not by written letter, neither by word of mouth, but by means
of a fringe of cords tied in knots, each knot and its place having its
particular signification.

The alarm spread, and the day of evil being upon them--their sun-gods
giving no sign of crushing the profane intruders--the priests looked
upon it as a sign of wrath and punishment; and sooner than their
treasure should fall into the hands of the fierce, remorseless
conquerors, eagerly stripped their temples themselves, and in remote
hiding-places, with many a mysterious rite, re-committed the gold to its
parent earth, binding all who beheld by the most fearful bonds never to
reveal the treasure-places to the conquerors, but to wait for the great
day when the ancient glory of Peru should be revived, when the Incas
should reign once more, and their religion flourish, ere the sacred
treasures were disinterred.

But that day came not.  European civilisation began to take the place of
that of the Incas, a new form of religion flourished, and from being
monarchs in the country the Peruvians became the slaves, the hewers of
wood and drawers of water of a new race.  Generations came and
generations died out, and the years still rolled on till ages passed
away; but though poor and degraded, the priestly caste existed still
amongst the Indians, and from father to son was the great secret handed
down in village after village, the idea of appropriating to their own
use the buried treasures never once being dreamed of; but, with the
wealth of princes scattered here and there throughout the country, the
Indians watched over the treasures still, and handed down the secret to
their children.

Some were discovered by stratagem, others by treachery, others, again,
by accident; and while the exact bearings of the places were mostly well
remembered, others died out of the memory of those to whose trust they
had been committed, or in some cases died with them.  But to this day it
is believed that vast stores of the precious metal still lie waiting the
hand of the discoverer, the barbaric relics of a fierce and bloody
religion, the creed of an idolatrous people; and many an explorer
unrewarded has wasted his days amidst the traces of the ruined temples
and tokens of a grand civilisation, scattered here and there amidst the
forests and mountain fastnesses of the mighty Andes.



CHAPTER TWO.

AFTER THREE AGES.

Perhaps it was with reading _Robinson Crusoe_ and _Sindbad the Sailor_--
I don't know, but I always did have a hankering after going abroad.

Twopence was generally the extent of my supply of hard cash, so I used
to get dreaming about gold, and to think that I had only to be wrecked
upon some rocky shore to find the remains of a Spanish galleon freighted
with gold in doubloons, and bars, and ingots, a prize to which I could
lay claim, and be rich for ever after.

Now, with such ideas as these in my head, I ask anybody, was it likely
that I could take to soap-boiling?

That was my father's business, and he was very proud of his best and
second quality yellow, and his prime hard mottled.  He had made a
comfortable living out of it, as his father and grandfather had before
him, helping to cleanse no end of people in their time; but I thought
then, as I think now, that it was a nasty unpleasant business, whose
odour is in my nostrils to the present day.

"You're no good, Harry," said my father, "not a bit, and unless you sink
that tin-pot pride of yours, and leave off wandering about and wearing
out your boots, and take off your coat and go to work, you'll never get
a living.  You've always got your nose stuck in a book--such trash!  Do
you ever see me over a book unless it's a daybook or ledger, eh?"

My father had no sooner done speaking than my mother shook her head at
me, and I went and stood out in the yard, leaning my back up against one
of the great tallow hogsheads, and thought.

It only took me five minutes to make up my mind, for the simple reason
that it was already seven-eighths on the way, this not being the first
time by many a score that my father had given me his opinion respecting
my future prospects in life; and as I neared twenty such opinions used
to seem to grit in amongst my mental works, while the longer I lived the
more I thought that I should never get my livelihood by soap-boiling.

Well, my mind was made up most stubbornly that I would go out to Uncle
Reuben.

Just then, as I stood moodily there, I heard the sound of a scuffle and
a sharp smack, and directly after, one of our lads, a young fellow of my
own age Tom Bulk by name, came hurriedly out of the kitchen door,
rubbing the side of his red face, but only to drop his hand the moment
he caught sight of me leaning against the tallow-tub.

"What's the matter, Tom?"  I said, though I knew well enough that Tom
was in hot water.

"Got a flea in my ear, Mas'r Harry," he said, with a grin of vexation.
"I caught it in the kitchen."

"So have I, Tom," I said bitterly; "but I caught mine in the parlour."

"Mas'r been rowing you agen, sir?"

"Yes, Tom," I said drearily, "and it's for the last time.  If I'm no
good I may as well be off.  I can't take to our business."

"Well, tain't so sweet as it used to be, sir; and it don't seem right
that, to make other folks clean, we should allers be in a greasy mess.
But what are you going to do, Mas'r Harry?" he said anxiously.

"Going abroad, Tom."

"So am I, Mas'r Harry."

"You, Tom?"

"Sure I am, Mas'r Harry, if you are," said Tom; and then and there he
pulled off his great, greasy leather apron and soapy white slop, and
fetched his shiny jacket out of the boiling-house.  "I'm ready, Mas'r
Harry," he exclaimed, as he fought hard to get one arm properly into his
sleeve, but had to try again and again, because the button was off the
wristband of his shirt, and the sleeve kept slipping up to his shoulder,
necessitating a fresh attempt.

I burst out laughing at him, as I saw the earnest way in which he took
my announcement; but the more I laughed the more solid Tom became, as he
worked his body into his old coat, and then proceeded to button it right
up to the chin, slapping himself several times upon the chest to settle
a wrinkle here and there, and ending by spitting in his hands, and
looking at me as much as to say, "Where's boxes, Mas'r Harry?  Let's be
off."

"Watcher larfin' at, Mas'r Harry?" he said at last.

"At you, Tom," I replied.

"All right, Mas'r Harry," he replied in the most philosophical way,
"larfin' don't cost nothing, and it's very pleasant, and it don't matter
when it's them as you know; but when it comes to somebody you don't
know, why then it riles."

I turned serious on the instant.

"Do you know what you are talking about, Tom?"  I said.

"Sure I do, Mas'r Harry.  Talkin' 'bout going abroad."

"But where?"

"I d'know, Mas'r Harry; only it's along o' you."

"But, my good fellow," I said, "perhaps I'm about to do very wrong in
going."

"Then, p'r'aps I am, Mas'r Harry," he replied, "and that don't matter."

"But it might be the ruin of your prospects, Tom."

"Ruin o' my prospecks!" cried Tom.  "Hark at him!" and he seemed to be
addressing a pile of chests.  "Don't see as there's much prospeck in
looking down into a taller tub.  I could do that anywheres."

"But you don't understand me, Tom," I cried.

"Don't want to, Mas'r Harry," he said.  "I know as I'm allers gettin' my
face slapped when I go into the kitchen; that I always get the smell o'
the tallow in my nose and can't get it out; and that I hate soap to such
an extent that I wouldn't care if I never touched a bit again."

"Oh, but you'll get on here, Tom, in time, and perhaps rise to be
foreman."

"No, I sha'n't, Mas'r Harry, 'cause I'm coming along with you."

"But don't you see that I am going to a place where it would not be
suitable for you."

"What's sootable for you, Mas'r Harry, would be just as sootable for me,
and I'd work like one of the <DW65>s out there, only harder."

"<DW65>s out where, Tom?"

"Where we're going, Mas'r Harry."

"How do you know there are any <DW65>s where we are going, sir?"

"Oh, there's sure to be, Mas'r Harry.  There's <DW65>s everywheres, I've
heerd tell."

"Oh, but really, Tom," I said, "it is all nonsense.  Look here, I'm
going out to join my uncle in South America."

"South America, Mas'r Harry!" said Tom eagerly.  "Why, that's just the
very place I want to go to."

"I don't believe it, Tom," I said sharply.  "If I had told you I was
going to South Australia, you would have said just the same."

"Dessay I should, Mas'r Harry," he replied grinning.

"Well now, look here, Tom," I continued very seriously, "I am going out
to join my uncle, and if I get on, and can see that there is a good
chance for you out there, why, I'll send you word, and you can join me."

"No, you won't, Mas'r Harry," he said quietly.

"But I promise you that I will."

"No, you won't, Mas'r Harry."

"Don't you believe my word, Tom?"

"I believe that you believe you mean me to believe, Mas'r Harry," he
said; "but I don't mean you to go without me, and so I tell you.  There
wouldn't be no getting on without me alongside o' you, that there
wouldn't, and I'm going along with you."

"What are you two quarrelling about?" said my father, coming up just
then.

"We were not quarrelling, father," I replied, snatching at the
opportunity to lay bare my plans now that I was a little excited, for I
had been rather nervous about how my proposals would be taken.

"Mas'r Harry's going out foreign abroad," said Tom sturdily; "and he
said I warn't to go with him, and I said I would, sir--that's all."

"Oh, he's going abroad, is he?" said my father.

"Yes, sir," I replied, "I have made up mind to go and see if Uncle
Reuben can find me anything to do."

"I hope you don't think that you are going to lead a life of idleness
out there, sir?"

"Oh no, sir," I replied, "I mean to work."

"Then why don't you work here?" said my father.

"Because I hate the trade so, sir."

"Nice clean business too," said my father; "makes clean money, and
keeps people clean.  I suppose you know it's horribly hot out there?"

"Not so hot as in our boiling-house, sir," I replied.

"Humph!" said my father; and then, without another word, he walked back
into the house.

"I _am_ glad," cried Tom, rubbing his hands together softly.  "What a
time of it we shall have, Mas'r Harry!"

It was my turn now to be silent, and I stood watching Tom, and thinking
as I struggled with myself that it would, after all, be very pleasant to
have a sturdy trustworthy fellow like Tom always at my back when I was
in a strange land.  For I had read that the descendants of the old
Spaniards in South America were courtly noble-looking gentlemen enough,
but were bitter and revengeful, and not always disposed to look with
favour upon Englishmen.  How did I know but in my fortune-seeking
adventures--for truly enough I meant to go out to seek my fortune--I
might make enemies, and be sometime or another in danger.  Then how good
it would be to have such a henchman as Tom at my side.

My thoughts were very visionary, of course, for I could not foresee the
strange adventures through which I should have to go; and for the moment
I was about to turn sharp round on Tom, and shake hands and say, "That's
right, Tom, we will go out and carve our fortunes together."  But I
checked myself directly, as I thought of my position.

For how was I to take out with me what to all intents and purposes would
be a servant, when the probabilities were that I should hardly have the
money to pay my own passage to the far-off land?

I was interrupted in my thoughts by Tom, who turned to me and said,
"Give me your knife, Mas'r Harry, and I'll give it a good sharp up along
o' mine.  There's nothing like having a good keen knife in your pocket
when you're going travelling, so they say."

"Very true, Tom," I cried laughing; "are you really in earnest over
this?"

"Really in earnest, Mas'r Harry?  Why, I never felt so earnest before in
my life.  To be sure I am, I want to see a bit o' the world."

"Very well then, Tom," I replied; "you will have a hard lot to share
with me, but share it you shall if you like."

"I don't want to share or anything of the kind," said Tom gruffly.
"You're young master, and I'm only lad.  I know what I am and what I'm
fit for well enough, Mas'r Harry, so don't you get talking no more about
sharing danger, because it won't do."

"Oh, very well, Tom, we won't quarrel about that."

"That's right then, Mas'r Harry; so now give us hold of your knife."

I gave him my knife, in a thoughtful way, and he took it, opened it, and
examined its edge.

"Blunt as a butter knife, Mas'r Harry," he cried.  "And now, when do we
start?"

"Start, Tom?"  I cried laughing.  "Oh, it is not like going to London,
we must make a great many preparations first, for it's a long journey."

"Is it?" he said.  "Two or three hundred miles, Mas'r Harry?"

"A good deal more than two or three thousand, Tom," I replied.

"Oh, all right, Mas'r Harry.  I don't mind how far it is, as long as we
keep together.  My word an' honour, won't it be different to making best
yaller and mottled and cutting it into bars?"

"Different, Tom?"  I said dreamily.  "Yes, my lad, it will indeed."



CHAPTER THREE.

I COME TO AN UNDERSTANDING WITH MY FATHER.

I believe I lay in bed that night with my eyes wide open, seeing, as if
in a waking dream, the whole of the eventful life I had pictured out for
myself--a glorious career of adventure in a land of imaginary beauties--
a land built up out of recollections of Robinson Crusoe's island, _Sir
Edward Seaward's narrative, The Conquest of Peru_, and _The Lives of the
Buccaneers_, with a little _Arabian Nights' Entertainments_ dashed in by
way of pickles or spice.  All these formed themselves into a glowing
series of scenes--a sort of panorama of the future, and I lay and
watched in imagination the glorious prospect of river and forest,
mountain and plain, where I was going to win fame and fortune, in a
series of wonderful adventures, such as had never before fallen to the
lot of man.

You will not be surprised to hear that I got up the next morning
feverish and unrefreshed, and I felt quite envious of Tom when I saw him
holding his shortly-cropped bullet head under the spout of the pump in
the back yard, waggling the handle awkwardly as he had what he called "a
sloosh."

For he looked so hale and hearty and fresh, as he looked up on hearing
my step, and cried out to me--

"Lay hold o' the pump-handle, Mas'r Harry, and work it up and down a
bit, it's awkward to do all by yourself."

I felt quite spiteful as I took hold of the polished old handle and
worked at it, meaning to give Tom a regular ducking; and I sent the pure
cold well-water gushing out as he held his head under, letting the
stream come first upon his poll, then upon one ear, then upon the other,
and backing away at last to where he had hung his rough towel upon a
hook in the wall, to seize it and begin to scrub.

"Oh, I say, Mas'r Harry, it's 'evinly," he panted, as he rubbed away.
"Just you try it.  Seems to make the strength go rattling through you
like.  Have a go: I'll pump."

I hesitated for a moment, and then, feeling that the cold shock would
perhaps clear my heated brain, I threw off my cap and necktie, stripped
my jacket from my shoulders, and, rolling up my sleeves, thrust my head
under the spout, and the next moment was panting and gasping, and
feeling half drowned and confused, as Tom sent the water streaming out
with liberal hand.

"Now then, what Tom-fool's game's this?" said a voice, as I withdrew my
head and held out my hand for the towel; "washing the folly out of your
head, Harry?"

"No, father," I said quietly, as I rubbed away, feeling a refreshing
glow thrill through me as the reaction set in.  "I was trying to freshen
myself up after lying awake all night thinking of my future."

"Then you are still harping on that project?" he said quickly.

"Yes, sir; I have quite made up my mind to go."

"What, and leave a quiet sensible business in search of a mare's nest?"

"Don't be angry with me, father," I said.  "I know all about the
business, and what a struggle you have had for years just to get a bare
living."

"Well, boy, that's true," he said with a sigh.

"I know, too, how things are getting worse and worse, and that the large
London works and competition make the business poorer every year."

"They do, my lad, they do," he said more quietly.  "But I had hoped that
you would grow into a clever industrious man, and set the poor old
business on its legs again."

"I'd try and be clever, father," I replied, "and I know I could be
industrious, but my two arms would be of no use to contend against
machinery and steam."

He shook his head.

"I've thought about it for long enough now, father," I said; "and I can
see well enough that there's no chance of improving our little business
without capital, and that if that is not to be had it must get smaller
and smaller every day."

"Why, Harry, my boy," he said, as we strolled down now into our bit of
garden, "I didn't think you could see so far into a millstone as that."

"Oh, father!"  I cried warmly, "do you think I have never felt miserable
and discouraged to see what a fight it has been with you to make up your
payments month after month?"

"I never thought you gave a bit of heed to it, my lad," he said warmly,
as he held out his hand, and took mine in a hearty grip.  "I've
misjudged you, my boy; I've misjudged you.  I didn't think you had so
much thought."

"Oh, father!"  I cried, "why, all my wandering thoughts have had the aim
of getting on in life, and for a long time past it has seemed to me that
England's growing too full of people fighting against one another for a
living; and I felt that some of us must go out and try afresh in another
place."

"Like the bees do, when they swarm, my lad," said my father, looking
down at one of the old straw hives, with its pan turned over the top to
keep off the rain.  "Well, perhaps you're right, Harry--perhaps you are
right.  I won't fight against it, my boy.  I only wish you luck."

"Father!"  I cried, and I was about to say something else, but it would
not come, try how I would; and I stood there holding by his hand in the
garden, while he looked me in the face with a calmer, more gentle look
than I had seen in his eyes for some time past.

He was the first to break the silence, and then he clapped me on the
shoulder in a hearty, friendly way.

"There's mother making signs that breakfast's ready, my boy.  Come along
in."

We went in and took our places at the table so quietly that my mother's
hands began to tremble so much that she could hardly pour out the tea.

"What have you been doing, Harry, to make father so cross?" she said at
last.

"Nay, nay, mother, nothing at all," said my father quickly.  "It's all
right.  Harry and I have been coming to a bit of an understanding--
that's all.  We haven't been quarrelling a bit."

"Are you sure, dear?" said my mother dubiously.

"Sure? ay!" cried my father.  "Why, Harry and I were never better
friends."

"Indeed, no," I cried excitedly.

"You are both keeping something back from me," she cried, with her hands
trembling and the tears coming into her eyes.

"Oh, no, we won't keep anything back from you, mother," said my father
kindly.  "Harry and I have been talking about his plans."

"Not for going away?" said my mother; "don't say that."

"But I must say it," said my father.  "Harry is quite right.  I didn't
like it at first; but, as he says, there are too many of us here, and he
is going to seek his fortune in a foreign land."

"Oh, my boy, my boy!" she cried.

"Same as your brother Reuben did," said my father.  "Come, come, old
lady, courage!  We must look this sort of thing in the face."

"And I'll go out there, mother and see if Uncle Reuben will help me.  If
he can't, I'll try for myself, for I will get on; and some day, if I
don't come back a rich man, I'll come back with a sufficiency to make
the old age of both you and my father comfortable.  Trust me, I will."

For some few minutes there was very little breakfast eaten; but at last
my father roused us up, talking quite cheerfully, and evidently trying
to reconcile my mother to my going, and then we went on with the meal.

"So Tom wants to go with you, does he?" said my father.  "Well, he's a
good, hard-headed sort of fellow, and likes you, Harry.  He'd better
go."

"But isn't he likely to lead poor Harry into mischief?" said my mother.

"No; he's more likely to act as ballast and keep him from capsizing if
he carries too much sail.  Tom's all right."

My mother accepted the inevitable in a very short time, and soon began
to talk as mothers do--that is to say, homely mothers--for almost as
soon as she had wiped her eyes she exclaimed--

"Why, Harry, my dear, you must have at least six new shirts."

"Must I, mother?"  I said smiling.

"Yes, my son, and of the best and strongest stuff.  I'm glad to say that
I've just finished a couple of pairs of strongly-knitted stockings."

And from that hour, I believe, my mother was happy in her task of
getting ready my sea-chest, putting in no end of pleasant little
surprises for me, to be ready when I was in the far-off land.

Tom, too, was not forgotten, poor fellow, for he had no one to take
tender notice of him.

"And it don't matter a bit, Mas'r Harry," he cried cheerily, "I don't
want a lot o' things.  One clean shirt and a pocket-comb--that's about
all a chap like me wants."

But he was better provided than that, and at last, before a couple of
months had passed away, our farewells were said and we started for
Liverpool, in low spirits with our partings, but full of hope and eager
ambition, since at the great western port we were to take our passage in
one of the great steamers for the West Indies, where we would have to
change into a smaller trading vessel which would take us on to Caracas.

"No soap-boiling out there, Mas'r Harry," cried Tom cheerily; and he
gave a long sniff as if to get some of the familiar old smell into his
nose.

"No, Tom," I replied quietly.  "We are going to begin a new life now;"
for the future looked to me a far more serious affair than I had
imagined before in the midst of my sanguine aspirations and rather wild
and dreamy ideas.



CHAPTER FOUR.

TOM CATCHES THE COMPLAINT.

"Oh, my eye, Mas'r Harry!  Dear heart, dear heart, how bad I do feel!"

"Why, you kept laughing at me, you wretch," I said, as I rejoiced at
Tom's downfall.

"_Surely_, so I did, Mas'r Harry--I did, I did--but I didn't think it
was half so--so bad as this here.  Oh, my eye! how badly I do feel!"

"You old humbug, you!"  I cried in my triumph, for I was getting over my
troubles, "sneered and jeered and pooh-poohed it all, you did, Tom, and
now it has you by the hip at last."

"No, it hasn't, Mas'r Harry," he groaned.  "It aren't the hip, it's more
in the middle.  Oh, my eye! how ill I am!"

"I'm precious glad of it, Tom," I said.

"Well, I do call that cowardly, Mas'r Harry--I do really," groaned
Tom--"'specially as you wasn't half so bad as I am."

"Why, I was ten times worse, Tom," I cried.

"Oh, Mas'r Harry! don't say that," groaned the poor fellow, "because
it's unpossible.  If--Oh, my eye! how ill I do feel!--if you'd been ten
times as bad as I am, you'd have died ten times over.  Oh, dear! oh,
dear!  How is it the doctors can't cure this horrid--?  Oh, dear me! how
ill I do feel!"

It was very unfeeling, of course, but all the same I sat down close to
poor Tom as he lay upon the deck, and roared with laughter to see his
miserable yellow face, and the way in which he screwed up his eyes.  But
it was only three days before when I was really ill that Tom was
strutting about the deck ridiculing sea-sickness, and telling me what a
poor sort of a fellow I was to knuckle under to a few qualms like that.

For I must confess to having been one of the first attacked when we were
well out at sea.  It was the first time I had ever seen the blue water;
and no sooner did a bit of a gale spring up, and the great steamer begin
to climb up the waves and then seem to be falling down, down, down in
the most horrible way possible, than I began to prove what a thorough
landsman I was, and, like a great many more passengers, was exceedingly
ill.

I remember thinking that it would have been much better if I had stayed
at home instead of tempting the seas.

Then as I grew worse I called myself by all sorts of names for coming
upon such a mad expedition.

Then I vowed that if I could get on shore again, I'd never come to sea
any more.

Lastly I grew so bad that I didn't care what became of me, and I felt
that if the steamer sank I should be relieved from all my terrible
pains.

And all this time Tom was skipping about the deck as merry as a lark,
chaffing with the sailors or making friends with the firemen, and every
now and then coming to me and making me so cross that I felt as if I
could hit him.

"Now do let me fetch the doctor to you, Mas'r Harry," he kept on saying,
pulling a solemn face, but with his eyes looking full of fun.

"I tell you I don't want the doctor.  Don't be such an ass, Tom," I
cried.

"But you do seem so ill, Mas'r Harry," he said with mock sympathy.  "Let
me see if I can get you some brimstone and treacle."

"Just you wait till I get better, Tom," I said feebly.  "You nasty
wretch, you.  Brimstone and treacle!  Ugh!"

My sufferings ought to have awakened his sympathy, but it did not in the
least, and I found that nobody thought anything of a sea-sick passenger.

But at last I got over it, and, to my intense delight, all of a sudden
Tom was smitten with the complaint, and became more prostrate than even
I.

I did not forget the way he had tortured me, and you may be sure that I
did not omit to ask him if he would try the brimstone and treacle.  I
behaved worse to him, I believe, for I tortured him by taking him cold
fat pork and hard biscuits, and paid him various other little attentions
of a kindred sort, making him groan with pain, till one day--it was
while the sea was very rough, and I thought him too ill to move--he
suddenly got up.

"Tell you what, Mas'r Harry," he said, "I'm not going to stand your
games no longer.  I shall get up and be better;" and better he seemed to
grow at once, so that by the next day he was almost himself again, and
we stood by the high bulwarks watching the great Atlantic rollers as
they came slowly on, as if to swallow up our ship.



CHAPTER FIVE.

A SAILOR ON SEA-SERPENTS.

"It do puzzle me, Mas'r Harry," said Tom, as we sat in the chains one
bright, sunny day, when the storm was over, but a fine stiff breeze was
helping the toiling engines to send the steamer along at a splendid
rate.

"What puzzles you, Tom?"  I asked.

"Why, where all the water comes from.  Just look at it now.  Here have
we been coming along for more'n a week, and it's been nothing but water,
water, water."

"And we could go on for months, Tom, sailing, sailing away into the
distant ocean, and still it would be nothing but water, water, water."

"Well, but what's the good of it all, Mas'r Harry?  Why, if I was to get
up a company to do it, and drain it all off, the bottom of the sea here
would be all land, and people could walk or have railways instead of
being cooped up in a great long tossing box like this, and made so--Oh,
dear me, it nearly makes me ill again to think of it."

"Ah! that would be a capital arrangement, Tom," I said smiling.  "What a
lot more room there would be on the earth then!"

"Wouldn't there, Mas'r Harry?" he cried eagerly.

"A tremendous deal more, Tom.  Every poor fellow might have an estate of
his own; but where would you drain the water to?"

"Where would I drain the water to, Mas'r Harry?"

"To be sure," I said, enjoying his puzzled look.  "If you take it away
from here you must send it somewhere else."

"Of course, Mas'r Harry, of course," he replied eagerly.  "Oh, I'd
employ thousands of navvies to dig a big drain and let the water right
off."

"Yes, I understand that," I replied; "but where is the drain to lead?"

"Where's the drain to lead?"

"Yes; where is the water to run?"

"Where's the water to run?" said Tom, scratching his head.  "Where's the
water to run, Mas'r Harry?  Why, I never thought of that."

"No, Tom, you never thought of that; and you can't alter it, so it is of
no use to grumble."

"Don't you two young fellows slacken your hold there," said a sailor,
looking over at us.

"'Taint likely, is it?" said Tom grinning; "why, where should we be if
we did?"

"Down at the bottom some day," growled the sailor as he walked away, and
Tom looked at me.

"Just as if it was likely that a fellow would let go and try and drown
hisself, Mas'r Harry.  Think it's deep here?" he added as he gazed down
into the dense blue water.

"Yes, Tom, very," I replied, gazing down as well, for the water was
beautifully transparent, and the foam left by the bows of the steamer
sparkled in the brilliant sunshine as we rushed along.

"Deep, Tom?"  I said, "yes, very."

"How deep, Mas'r Harry; forty or fifty foot?"

"Two or three miles, p'r'aps, Tom," I replied.

"Go along!  Two or three miles indeed!" he said, laughing.

"I don't know that it is here, Tom," I continued, "but I believe they
have found the depth nearly double that in some places."

"What! have they measured it, Mas'r Harry?"

"Yes, Tom."

"With a bit of string?"

"With a sounding-line, Tom."

"And a bit of lead at the end?"

"Yes, Tom, a sounding-lead with a great bullet, which they left at the
bottom when they pulled the line in again."

"Think o' that, now!" cried Tom.  "Why, I was wondering whether a fellow
couldn't go down in a diving-bell and see what the bottom was like, and
look at the fishes--say, Mas'r Harry, some of 'em must be whoppers."

"Ay, my lad," said the same sailor who had before spoken, and he rested
his arms on the bulwark and stared down at us; "there's some big chaps
out at sea here."

"Could we catch some of 'em?" asked Tom.

"Oh, yes," said the sailor.  "Dessay you could, my lad, but I wouldn't
advise you to try a sixpenny fishing-line with a cork float and a
three-joint hazel rod with a whalebone top--you know that sort, eh?"

"Know it?  I should think I do," cried Tom.  "So does Mas'r Harry here.
We used to ketch the gudgeons like hooroar down in the sharp water below
the mill up at home."

"Ah!" said the sailor, "so used I when I was a boy; but there ain't no
gudgeons here."

"What sort o' fish are there, then?" said Tom.

"Oh, all sorts: bonito, and albicore, and flying-fish, sometimes
dolphins and sharks."

"Any whales?" cried Tom, winking at me.

"Sometimes; not very often, my lad," said the sailor quietly.  "They
lies up in the cold water, more among the ice.  We're getting every day
more into the warm."

"I'm sorry there ar'n't any whales," said Tom.  "How long might they be,
say the biggest you ever see?"

"Oh!" said the sailor, "they mostly runs thirty or forty foot long, but
I saw one once nearly eighty-foot."

"What a whopper!" said Tom, giving me a droll look.

"Sounds big," said the sailor, "but out here in the ocean, my lad,
seventy or eighty-foot only seems to be a span long, and no size at all,
while the biggest shark I ever see--"

"How long was that?" said Tom; "a hundred foot?"

"No," said the sailor drily; "he was eighteen-foot long--a long, thin,
hungry-looking fellow, with a mouth and jaws that would have taken off
one of your legs like a shot."

"Well, but if an eighty-foot whale don't look big," said Tom, "an
eighteen-foot shark must be quite a shrimp."

"Ah! you wouldn't think so," said the sailor quietly, "if you were
overboard and one of 'em after you."

"But I thought you'd got monsters out here at sea," said Tom, giving me
another of his cunning looks, as much as to say, "You see how I'll lead
him on directly."

"So we have," said the sailor, staring straight out before him, "only it
don't do to talk about 'em."

"Why?"  I said quickly, for the man's quiet, serious way impressed me.

"Well, you see, sir," he replied, "if a man says he's seen a monster out
at sea, and it isn't a whale which people knows of, having been seen,
they say directly he's a liar, and laugh at him, and that isn't
pleasant."

"Of course not," I replied, "if he is telling the truth."

"Of course, sir, if he's telling the truth; and, take it altogether,
what I know of sailors after being at sea thirty-two year, beginning as
a boy of twelve, sailors ain't liars."

"Well, let's hope not," I said.

"They ain't indeed, sir," said the man earnestly.  "They do foolish
things, drinking too much when they get ashore after a voyage, and
spending their money like asses, as the saying goes; but a chap as is at
sea in the deep waters, and amongst storms and the lonesomeness of the
great ocean, gets to be a serious sort of fellow--he isn't the liar and
romancer some people seem to think."

"No, but you do spin yarns, some of you?" said Tom.

"Well, yes, of course," said the sailor.  "Why not sometimes for a bit
of fun? but when a man's in 'arnest he ought to be believed."

"Of course," said Tom; "but I say, mate, you never see the sea-serpent,
did you?"

The man did not answer for a few moments, but stood gazing straight out
to sea before saying quietly:

"I don't know.  A man sees some curious things out at sea in the course
of thirty years; but he gets precious cautious about telling what he's
seen after being laughed at, and chaffed when he's been only telling the
simple truth.  Why, I remember, once when I was out with one captain, we
saw what we thought was the sea-serpent or something of the kind, and
observations were taken, it was all entered in the log, and sent to the
papers afterwards; and the skipper got laughed nearly out of his skin
for a romancer.  He was a queen's captain--man-o'-war it was, and all
was as regular as could be; officers and men saw it all, but they were
so roasted afterwards that, when anything of the kind's seen now, they
say nothing about it."

"But do you really mean to say you believe that there are monsters in
the ocean that we have no regular account of in books?"

He turned to me, and pointed out to sea.

"Isn't there room there for thousands of great things, my lad; such as
we've never seen or heard of?" he said.

I nodded.

"Why, do you know that in some parts out here the water's over four
miles deep?  They've measured it, my lad, and they know."

"Say, Mas'r Harry, that's more than your two mile," cried Tom.

"Ay, and I dessay there's parts where it's more than twice as deep, and
when you come to think of the thousands of miles you can sail without
nearing land, I say there's room for thousands of things such as nobody
has ever seen."

"That's very true," I said.

"Why, I remember, down at home in Norfolk, when I was a boy, there was a
big pool that people never fished, because they said there was no fish
in it, and so it had been longer than anybody could recollect; and at
last there was a plan made to drain a bit of bog close by, and a great
<DW18> was cut.  This set the farmer the pool belonged to thinking that if
he cut a ditch to the big <DW18>, he could empty the old pool, and if he
did he would get 'bout three acres of good dry ground instead of a black
peaty pool; so he set a lot o' chaps at work one dry summer when they
weren't busy, and we boys went to see it done.  Now, you may believe me
or you mayn't, my lads."

"Oh, we'll believe you; won't we, Mas'r Harry?" said Tom grinning.

"Well, I shall," I replied, and the sailor went on.

"When the water began to get low in that pool we used to see that there
were fish in it, and at last there was a regular set out catching of
them in the bits of holes where the water had left them."

"Oh, I say, Mas'r Harry, don't I wish we had been there!" cried Tom.

"Ay, it was fun, my lad, for we got scores of tench, some of 'em three
and four pound weight, and there was six or seven carp ever so much
bigger.  One of 'em weighed nine pounds."

"That was a fine un," said Tom.

"But the biggest fish we got was a pike, and he was the only one there.
That chap must have eat up all that had been before him, and he weighed
three-and-thirty pound.  He was close upon four foot long, and a
gentleman there said if he had been in good condition he would have
weighed five-and-forty, for he was as thin as a lath."

"I should have liked to see that fish," said Tom.

"Ay, it was a fine one.  We boys daren't tackle him, he was so big,"
continued the sailor; "and then out of the mud they got bushels of great
eels, some of the biggest I ever saw."

"Did you though?" said Tom.

"Ay, we did.  When the water had got right down low, you could see 'em
squirming about like snakes, and when they'd got all we could see they
laid down boards over the mud, and punched about in the soft places when
great fellows kept coming up to the top, and they got no end more.  They
were the biggest eels ever I see, and as fat as butter."

"Were they though?" said Tom.

"Ay, they were, my lads; and what I wanted to say was this--If so be as
those fish could live in that bit of a three-acre pool without people
knowing of their being there, don't you think there can be no end of big
fishes and things in the great waters, thousands of miles from shore,
such as menfolks has never seen?"

"Well, it do seem likely," said Tom; "but I never could swallow the
sea-serpent."

"No, my lad, more likely to swallow you," said the sailor drily.

"But come now," said Tom drily.  "Did you ever come across the great
sea-serpent?"

"A mate o' mine," said the sailor, "told me he once saw out Newfoundland
way part of a great cuttle-fish that had been washed ashore after a
storm.  It was a great jellyfish sort of thing, and it was thirty foot
long; and he said he was sure it couldn't have been more than half of
it, and the next day he saw one of its arms all full of suckers, and it
was twenty foot long."

"Well, that must have been a pleasant sort of thing," said Tom, as I sat
there listening thoughtfully, for the sailor seemed disposed to go on
talking.

"I remember one year, fifteen years ago I daresay it is, we were going
from Singapore to Hong Kong, and it was a strangely hot calm time, when
all at once away about a mile on our lee bow I saw something rise up out
of the sea five-and-twenty or thirty feet, as it seemed to be, but it
went down again directly; and I rubbed my eyes, thinking it was fancy,
but directly after out it came again, making a curious kind of thrust
like as if it was a long neck of something under the water.  Then down
it went again, and I called the officer of the watch to look at it; and
he came with his glass, laughing-like, but just then out it came again
and he tried to get a glimpse of it through his glass, but he never
could be quick enough, for there was no telling where the thing would
dart out its head, and when it did come up it went down again directly.

"I was in hopes it would come nigher, but it went the other way,
shooting out its head once when it was a good way off, and then we did
not see it any more."

"And what do you think it was?"  I said eagerly.

"Not knowing, can't say," he replied quietly.  "Our officer said,
half-laughing, half-puzzled like, that he should have said it was the
sea-serpent, only no one would believe him if he did."

"Did you ever see anything else?"  I asked.

"Oh, yes, my lad, I've seen a good many things that people wouldn't
believe.  I remember once seeing a curious thing off the muddy Malay
coast, a long way north of Malacca, where you have mangrove swamps right
down about the mouths of the rivers, places where the crocodiles go in
and out."

"I say, how big's a crocodile?" said Tom sharply.

"All sizes, mate," said the sailor.  "I've seen 'em two foot long and
I've seen 'em twenty."

"Oh, not bigger than that?" said Tom contemptuously.

"No, my lad, that's the biggest I ever see, but I've heerd of 'em being
seen five or six and twenty."

"But tell us about the strange thing you saw off the Malay coast," I
said impatiently.

"Oh, ah! yes," he said, "that was just as the mist was lifting that lay
between us and the coast.  It was in a shallow muddy sea, and three or
four of us was trying to make out the trees ashore, and wondering
whether there would be any chance of our getting some fresh fruit and
vegetables before long; when, all at once, one of my mates claps his
hand on my shoulder, and he says--`Lookye yonder, mate.'  `Why, it's the
sea-sarpent!' says another.  `Well, that is a rum un,' says another.
And then we stood looking at what seemed to be a great snake swimming,
with twenty or thirty feet of its neck outer water; and it was holding
it up in a curve just like a swan, and sometimes its head was right up
high and sometimes curved down close to the water with its neck in a
loop, and all the time it was going along five or six knots an hour.
`Why, it _is_ the sea-sarpent!' says another of our mates, `look all
behind there; you can see its back as it swims, 'tis a hundred foot
long, see if it isn't!'  I looked, and sure enough it did seem to be a
great length behind, nearly covered by the water; but, as I stood, it
didn't seem to me like a snake swimming, for it seemed more than ever as
if what we saw was a great slimy slaty- thing, the make of a
swan, swimming with its body nearly all under water and its head out;
or, as I afterwards thought, just like one of the big West Indy turtles,
such as you'll see by and by if you're lucky."

"Like a turtle?"  I said.

"Yes, my lad," he continued, "a great flat-bodied turtle, that might
have been thirty or forty foot long and half as much across, while it
had a great neck like a swan."

"But what made you think it was like that?"  I asked.

"Because you could see its back out of the water now and then, and it
wasn't like a serpent, for it rose over like a turtle's, and sometimes
it was higher out of the water sometimes lower; and what I saw as plain
as could be was the water rippling up fore and aft, just as if the thing
had nippers which it was working to send it along."

"Did your captain see it?"  I asked at last.

"No, my lad, for we was too full of wonderment just then to do more than
stare at the thing, till all at once it seemed to stretch its neck out
straight with quite a dart, as if it had caught something to eat, and
then it wasn't there."

"Didn't it come up again?" said Tom.

"No, my lad, we never see it no more."

"How far was it from the shore?"  I asked.

"Five or six miles, my lad, more or less," he replied; and just then
there was a call for all hands to take in sail, and our yarn-spinner
went away.



CHAPTER SIX.

ONWARD.

"That was a rum sort of tale, Mas'r Harry," said Tom as soon as we were
alone.  "Do you believe him?"

"Yes," I replied, "I believe he is sincere."

"What! and see those great things, Mas'r Harry, out at sea?"

"I believe he saw something," I replied, "but whether it was just as he
described is another thing.  There's plenty of room, though, in the sea
for more than that, and perhaps people will find out some day that we
have not seen everything that there is in the world."

"Talk about snakes, though, Mas'r Harry," said Tom suddenly; "where did
you say we was going?"

"To Caracas first."

"Ah!  Crackers--that's it.  Do you think there'll be any snakes there?"

"Not sea-serpents, Tom," I said laughing; "but up the country where we
are going there are sure to be plenty of land-serpents."

"Not big ones, though, Mas'r Harry?"

"I should say there will be some very big ones in the swamps by the
great rivers."

"Think o' that now!" said Tom.  "Big serpents! ugh!  I can't abide eels
even.  I don't know how I should get on with serpents.  But I say, Mas'r
Harry, it's all nonsense about sea-serpents, ar'n't it?"

"I don't know, Tom," I replied.  "Perhaps they never grow to a very
large size; but there are thousands of small ones."

"What! sea-serpents, Mas'r Harry?"

"To be sure there are."

"But not in the sea--snakes couldn't swim?"

"Indeed but they can, Tom.  Why, I've seen our common English snake go
into a stream and swim beautifully with its head reared above the water,
and after swimming about for some time, come out."

"Think of that now!" said Tom.  "Where's the sea-serpents, then?"

"Oh, all about the Indian and Chinese Seas."

"Big uns?"

"I never heard of their being more than five or six feet long, but some
of them are very poisonous.  People have died from their bite."

"Have they, though?" said Tom.  "And where else are there any, Mas'r
Harry?"

"Oh, they swarm in the Caspian Sea.  I've heard that they float about in
knots of several together on calm, sunny days, and they come ashore in
the shallow parts."

"Caspian Sea!" said Tom; "where may that be--anywhere near Crackers?"

"No, Tom," I said; "we've left that behind us in the Old World."

"And a good job too," said Tom; "we don't want sea-serpents where we're
going.  Why, Mas'r Harry, I shall never like to do a bathe again."

Soon after this Tom proposed that we should try sea-fishing, but when we
had borrowed lines and begun to make our preparations the weather set in
so rough that we never once had a chance.  In fact there were many days
when we had no opportunity of coming on deck unless we were prepared to
be drenched with the spray that deluged the deck as some great wave
struck the steamer's bows, and then flew in driving showers from end to
end.

There were times when I fancied that the officers looked quite serious,
but they said nothing, only were very particular about the hatches being
kept closed.

Then came a spell of finer weather, during which we reached Jamaica, and
I was thinking of getting a few days ashore, so as to see something of
this beautiful island; but it was not to be, for we found that we were
very late, that the steamer into which we were to shift had been waiting
for us three days, and if we did not take passage in her we should have
to wait a fortnight, perhaps longer, for another.

"And I did so want to see the <DW65>s in the sugar plantations, and
taste real Jamaica rum.  Say, Mas'r Harry, that stuff people drink in
England's all gammon."

"Why so?"  I asked.

"Because it's brown and yellow, like wine," he replied.  "Real Jamaica
rum's quite white."

"Well, Tom," I said, "I don't know that it will make any difference to
us; and as to the sugar plantations and the <DW65>s, as you call them, I
daresay you will be able to see some at my uncle's place."

"But he don't grow sugar, does he, Mas'r Harry?"

"I don't know about that," I said, "but I think so.  I know he grows a
great deal of coffee."

"Think of that, now, Mas'r Harry!  And tea, too?"

"No, he does not grow tea, Tom."

"Well, I do wonder at that," said Tom, "because you see tea's better
than coffee to keep to."

"How about climate, Tom?"  I said laughing.

"Climate?  Ah! yes, I s'pose that do make a difference, Mas'r Harry.
But he might grow sugar."

"Perhaps he does, Tom," I said, "but we shall see before very long."

"Well, it won't be because it isn't hot enough," said Tom, wiping his
face.  "Phew! the sun does go it out here."

"But it may be colder where my uncle lives, Tom."

"Why, how can it be, Mas'r Harry, if it's anywhere out here?"

"Perhaps he's high up in the mountains, and there it will be much
colder."

"Ha-ha-ha!  Well, that is a good un, Mas'r Harry," laughed Tom.  "You
had plenty of schooling and I had none, but I do know better than that.
Going up closer to the sun and finding it colder!  Well, that is a rum
un, and no mistake."

I tried to explain to Tom why it was that the climate was colder in
mountain regions, but I suppose I did it in too bungling a way for him
to comprehend, and he stood out for his own opinion till he saw, some
weeks later, a magnificent specimen of a snow-capped mountain, at which
he stared in amazement; and even then he was obstinate enough to declare
that, after all, the dazzling whiteness might be due to the clear
transparency of crystal rock.



CHAPTER SEVEN.

FEEDING THE SHARKS.

It was a wonderful change from the stormy, tossing Atlantic, with its
bitter winds and chilling cold, to the calm transparency of the
brilliantly-blue tropic waters, where everything looked so unclouded and
so bright.  When we neared one or other of the islands, everything
seemed so fresh that we began to forget the perils and troubles of our
long, uneventful, but sufficiently troubled voyage.  For there were
golden or dazzlingly white sands, upon which the calm sea softly
rippled, while close down to the water's edge we could see what Tom
called spike plants and sweep's-brush trees--these being his names for
plants of the Yucca family and lovely slender-tufted palms.

When we gazed down into the clear waters from the deck of our
comparatively small steamer, we could see fish in plenty, for the
brilliant sun seemed to light up the sea beneath the vessel's keel,
while as the screw churned up the water and the steamer rushed on, the
scaly occupants of the deep flashed away to right and left, darting out
of sight like so many shafts of silver through the sunny depths.

It was a wonderful change from cold and chill to a delicious atmosphere,
where the soft sea-breeze fanned our cheeks, though we soon became aware
of the fact that the sun possessed power such as we had never
experienced before.

"Why, it's like as if it came through a burning glass, Mas'r Harry,"
said Tom; "and, I say, just you try to touch that copper hood thing that
goes over the compass.  I did, and it burned my hand just as if it had
come out of a hot fire."

"Well, I don't want to burn my hands, Tom," I replied.  "I can see how
hot it is by the pitch standing up in beads all along the ropes."

"And it's making black icicles outside some of the boards, Mas'r Harry,
only they're soft instead of hard.  I say, isn't it jolly?"

The next day it was a great deal hotter, for there was not a breath of
air, and Tom came to me as I was hanging listlessly over the side, for I
was too hot to stir.

"Say, Mas'r Harry," he said, "isn't this what they call being in the
tropics?"

"Yes, Tom; this is the tropics."

"Well, they're hot tropics, and no mistake--out-and-out hot uns.  It
won't get any warmer than this, will it?"

"Warmer, my lad?" said one of the sailors; "why, this is nothing to what
it is sometimes.  I've known it so hot that the fellows have been
half-roasted, and when the skipper's piped all hands to bathe in a
lugsail overboard, to keep away the sharks, you've heard the lads sizzle
as they jumped into the water."

"They got quite red-hot, then?" said Tom quietly.

"Well, hardly red-hot, though they were mostly very red--more brown-hot,
I should say."

"Thanky," said Tom.  "Much obliged;" and the sailor went away chuckling.

"He thinks I believe him, Mas'r Harry," said Tom quietly; "but I'm not
quite such a fool as all that."

"Oh! never mind their nonsense, Tom," I said; "there are too many
beautiful things to see, for us to pay heed to all that these fellows
say."

"Ah! you're about right there, Mas'r Harry," said Tom; "but somehow I am
a bit disappointed."

"Why?"  I asked.

"At not getting ashore.  Only think of it, Mas'r Harry! having a gun
apiece, and going wandering up the country somewhere, seeing all there
is in one of these islands."

"Have patience, Tom," I replied; "and I daresay you'll get as much
adventure as you'll care to have."

I did not know how true a prophet I was then.  In fact, perhaps if I
could have foreseen all we should have to go through, I might have
shrunk back from my undertaking.

Farther and farther every day now we went on and on, putting in at first
one island port and then another, but never having time to do more than
just go ashore.  A visit up the country was quite out of the question.

"It's a rum un, Mas'r Harry," said Tom, on our first landing; and his
broad countrified face expanded into a grin as he stopped opposite a
stout old <DW64> woman who was selling fruit.  No sooner did she see Tom
displaying his white teeth than she showed hers--two long rows like
ivory--and these two stood smiling one at the other till Tom recovered
himself, and invested sixpence in plantains and oranges.

"They're black enough out here, and no mistake, Mas'r Harry," said Tom;
"and oh, I say, just you taste these--they're splendid."

The waving cocoa palms and the beautiful flowers that we saw brought
into the bright little market made me feel, like Tom, that I should like
to go farther afield; but I comforted myself with the recollection that
we should soon be at our destination, and that then there would be
plenty to see and do.

Back on board once more, we spent our time basking in the sunshine,
drinking it in as it were, for it seemed so delightful in spite of its
heat after our dull, cheerless, hazy home in the winter season.

I took no note of how the time went, and this part of the voyage, though
in a slow clumsy boat, seemed far the quickest portion of the journey,
so that I was quite surprised when one morning I came on deck, and found
not only that we were in sight of land, but in sight of port--my landing
port--the end of my sea journey, for we were right across the Gulf of
Mexico, abreast of La Guayra, where the orders were given, and anchor
was dropped in the open roadstead, where, calm as it was, we could still
feel the great swell that came softly sweeping in, making the great
steamer rock and roll first to this side then to that, till, heavily
laden though she was, she careened over so that her copper glistened in
the sun.

I was beginning to feast my eyes upon the beauty of the place, when Tom,
who was right forward, shouted to me to come, and as I glanced at him I
saw that he was waving his hands so excitedly that there must be
something worth seeing, and I ran forward.

"Here's something for you to have a look at, Mas'r Harry," he cried.
"You recollect that big pike the sea-serpent sailor told us about--ugh!
four feet long didn't he say?"

"Yes, Tom; but there are no pike here."

"No pike, Mas'r Harry!  Why, here's a couple of 'em cruising about just
under the bows here, and you can see 'em as plain as plain, and they're
twelve or fourteen foot long at least."

"Yes, Tom," I said, as I climbed on to the bulwark, and sheltering my
eyes gazed down into the beautiful water, where the bottom was plainly
visible many feet below.  "Yes, Tom," I said, "they're twelve or
fourteen feet long at least, but they are not pike."

"Not pike, Mas'r Harry!  What are they then?"

"Sharks, my lad," I replied.  "Sharks."

"What, them?" he cried excitedly as he stared down.  "So they're sharks
are they?  Well, I'm glad I've seen 'em anyhow; but I shouldn't have
known that they were sharks.  Mustn't bathe here then," he continued;
"that is if all they say about sharks is true."

"I believe it's true enough, Tom," I said.

"Let's try 'em, Mas'r Harry," said Tom eagerly.

"Try them!  What, bathe?  Why, Tom, you must be mad!"

"I never said a word about bathing, Mas'r Harry," he responded rather
grumpily.  "I said, Let's try 'em.  I say if we had a big hook and line,
Mas'r Harry," he continued, with a broadly comical grin, "and baited
with nice fat little <DW65>s, what sport we should have."

"Nice fun for the little <DW65>s as you call them, Tom," I said.

"Yes, it wouldn't be very nice for them, Mas'r Harry.  But I say, let's
see if they'd go at a bait."

"How?"  I cried.

"Stop a moment, and I'll show you," he said; and running to where one of
the firemen was having a quiet pipe on deck, I saw Tom accost him, and
then go down into the stoke-hole, to come up again directly with a big
lump of slaty coal, bearing which he joined me.

"Let's drop this in gently," he said, "just over them; or, no, it would
make such a splash some of the sailors would come to see.  I've got a
bit of string in my pocket."

Tom always had a bit of string in his pocket, and unrolling it he
loosely tied it round the lump of coal, and then getting well on the
bulwark raised the coal gently up and over the side, beginning to lower
it down.

"Take care you don't go over instead of the coal, Tom," I said with a
grim smile.

"Oh, I say, Mas'r Harry, don't talk like that!" he cried; "it's enough
to give a chap the shudders.  It was only my fun about the little
<DW65>s.  Now, then, I think I can shake it out of the loop."

The sharks were just below us, and eight or ten feet down, as Tom
lowered the piece of coal right to the surface, without making any
splash and disturbing the water so as to interrupt our view of what we
hoped would take place.  Then giving the string a jerk he loosened the
coal, which began to descend rapidly, its bright black surface flashing
in the brilliant sunshine till it was half-way down, when there was a
tremendous swirl in the water, which danced and flashed and obscured our
vision, only that we caught sight of something--of two somethings--quite
white, and then by degrees the water calmed down, and there were the two
sharks still there, but turned round with their heads in a fresh
direction.

"Why, they took the coal, and one of 'em's swallowed it, Mas'r Harry,"
cried Tom excitedly.

"No, Tom: I think I can see it right down below there," I said; "but
they did have a try at it."

"What are you young fellows doing there?" said a voice; and, as we
turned sharply round, there stood the captain.  "What! are you fishing?"

"No, sir," said Tom; "I only dropped something over to see if the big
fish there would take it."

"Oh, I see!" he exclaimed.  "Sharks!  Yes, there are plenty of them, my
lads.  No bathing here.  You should get the cook to give you a lump of
bad pork, and hang that over by the string: that would fetch them."

Tom took the hint, and running to the cook told him what the captain
said, returning at the end of a minute to where I was still watching the
two monsters, the captain having gone.

"I'll tie this tight on, Mas'r Harry," cried Tom, suiting the action to
the word.  "I say, don't I wish we had a hook!"

The piece of meat was soon firmly secured, and twisting one end of the
string round his hand, Tom took his old place beside me, chuckling and
laughing, and began to lower down his bait.

"I say, Mas'r Harry, I wish it was a bar o' soap.  If one of 'em
swallowed it I wonder what he'd think of the taste."

By this time Tom had his bait close to the water, and directly after he
let it drop on the surface, where it made a little disturbance and then
floated.

Almost at the same moment it appeared as if, without the slightest
movement, one of the sharks was growing bigger and closer.  It seemed to
fascinate us, so cautiously did it rise nearer and nearer, till all of a
sudden it rolled right over on its side, showing the creamy white of its
under parts; there was a gleam of teeth, a swirl in the water, and the
greasy lump of salt pork disappeared.

As it did so I saw Tom's arm give a sudden jerk, and as he uttered a
yell I realised what was wrong, flinging my arms round him, and threw
myself inboard, so that I dragged him with me, and we fell together upon
the deck.

"Oh, my eye!" gasped Tom as we sat up on the deck; and he held up his
hand, beginning to unwind the broken string from it, and showing how
deeply it had cut into it before it gave way.

"What an escape, Tom!"  I cried, and as I spoke I felt that I must be
looking very white.

"I should have gone overboard if you hadn't laid hold o' me, Mas'r
Harry," he said, looking blankly in my face.  "How strong that string
was, and how it cut!"

"How stupid of you to tie it round your hand like that!"  I said.

"Well, I s'pose it was, Mas'r Harry," he said ruefully; "but one didn't
think of it then."

"Well, let's have a look at the sharks," I said, as the horror of what
might have happened passed off.

"No, thankye, Mas'r Harry," said Tom sulkily.  "I've had enough shark
for one day.  My hand's 'bout cut in two, and my arm's 'bout pulled
outer the socket, and one of my legs was twissen under me when I come
down, I've had enough shark to last me half a lifetime."



CHAPTER EIGHT.

THE NEW LAND.

As the shuddering feeling of what Tom had escaped passed off, we both
thought it would be better to say nothing about it.  We knew that he had
acted foolishly; and I felt that I ought to have known better, and then
soon enough, boy like, we forgot it all.

For there was a bright future spread before us, and I began to wonder
how it was that with such lovely places on the face of the earth, people
could be content to live in old England.  There, seen through the bright
transparent atmosphere, were convent, cathedral, castle, and tower,
grouped at the foot of a mountain, glistening with endless tints as it
towered up nine thousand feet, wall and battlement running up the spurs
of the great eminence.

The scene was lovely, and I was in raptures then with all that lay
before me, and again I asked myself how people could be content in
chilly Europe; but I soon understood all that.

Tom was walking by my side, and turning to him--

"What do you think of it, Tom?"  I said.

"Well, 'taint so very bad, Mas'r Harry," he grumbled out.  "But ain't
them sharkses?"

I followed his pointing finger, and, to my horror, I could see, cleaving
the blue and creamy-foamed water, close inshore, the black fins of one--
two--three--half a score of sharks; while all the time, dashing and
splashing in and out of the surf, busily unloading boats and larger
vessels, were dozens of mulatto porters.

I expected every moment to hear a shriek and to see the silver foam
tinged with red.  My heart beat intermittently, and there was a strange
dampness in my hands; but I soon learned that familiarity bred contempt,
and that probably from the noise and splashing kept up, the sharks
rarely ventured an attack.  But all the same, that one incident made me
gaze down into the blue depths where we were at anchor with a shudder,
and think that the waters were not so safe as those of home.

I had yet to learn something of the land.

"What's this place called, Mas'r Harry?" said Tom, interrupting my
reverie.  "You did tell me, but I've forgotten."

"La Guayra!"

"Humph!" ejaculated Tom.  "Why can't they call places by some name in
plain English?"

But the various strange sights and sounds soon silenced Tom's tongue,
and, tired out at last with a long walk, we went to the house that had
been recommended to me, and after partaking of coffee--the best I ever
remember to have drunk--I sought my room, Tom insisting upon sleeping on
the floor in the same chamber, and my last waking recollections were of
the pungent fumes of tobacco, and the tinkle, tinkle, twang of a guitar
beneath my window.

I must have been asleep about three hours, and I was dreaming of having
found gold enough to load a vessel homeward bound, when I was wakened by
some one shaking me violently, and as I started up I became aware of a
deafening noise, a choking sensation, as of dust rising in a cloud, and
the voice of Tom Bulk.

"Mas'r Harry--Mas'r Harry!  Wacken up, will you?"

"What's the matter?"  I gasped, springing out of bed, but only to reel
and stagger about before falling heavily.

"That's just how it served me," said Tom.  "Kneel down, Mas'r Harry,
same as I do.  The house is as drunk as a fiddler, and the floor's going
just like the deck of a ship."

"Where are you?"  I cried, trying to collect my scattered faculties,
for, awakened so suddenly from a deep sleep, I was terribly confused.

"Oh, I'm here!" said Tom.  "Give's your hand.  But, I say, Mas'r Harry,
what's it mean?  Do all the houses get dancing like this here every
night, because, if so, I'll sleep in the fields.  There it goes again!
Soap and soda! what a row!"

Tom might well exclaim, for with the house rocking frightfully, now came
from outside the peal as of a thousand thunders, accompanied by the
clang of bell, the crash of falling walls, the sharp cracking and
splitting of woodwork, and the yelling and shrieking of people running
to and fro.

"So this ere's a native storm, Mas'r Harry?" shouted Tom to me during a
pause.

"No!"  I shouted in answer, as with a shiver of dread I worded the
fearful suspicion that had flashed across my brain.  "No, Tom, it's an
earthquake!"

"Is that all?" grumbled Tom.  "Well, it might have come in the daytime,
and not when folks were tired.  But I thought earthquakes swallowed you
up."

"Here, for Heaven's sake help me at this door, Tom!"  I shouted, "or we
shall be crushed to death.  Here, push--hard!"

But our efforts were vain, for just then came another shock, and one
side of the room split open from floor to ceiling.

"The window--the window, Tom!"  I shrieked.  And then, thoroughly roused
to our danger, we both made for the casement, reaching it just as, with
a noise like thunder, down went the whole building, when it seemed to me
that I had been struck a violent blow, and the next instant I was
struggling amongst broken wood, dust, and plaster, fighting fiercely to
escape; for there was a horrible dread upon me that at the next throe of
the earthquake we should be buried alive far down in the bowels of the
earth.

I was at liberty, though, the next minute.

"Tom--Tom!"  I shouted, feeling about, for the darkness was fearful.
"Where are you?"

"All right, Mas'r Harry," was the reply; "close beside you."

"Here, give me your hand," I shouted, "and let's run down to the shore."

For in my horror that was the first place that occurred to me.

"Can't, sir," said Tom.  "I ain't got no legs.  Can't feel 'em about
there anywheres; can you?"

"What do you mean?"  I cried.  "This is no time for fooling!  Look
sharp, or we shall lose our lives."

"Well, so I am looking sharp," growled Tom.  "Ain't I looking for my
legs?  I can't feel 'em nowheres.  Oh, here they are, Mas'r Harry, here
they are!"

By this time I had crawled to him over the ruins of the house, to find
that he was jammed in amongst the rubbish, which rose to his knees; and,
as he told me afterwards, the shock had produced a horrible sensation,
just as if his legs had been taken off, a sensation heightened by the
fact that he could feel down to his knees and no farther.

"This is a pleasant spot to take a house on lease, Mas'r Harry," he
said, as I tore at the woodwork.

"Are you hurt?"  I exclaimed hastily.

"Not as I knows on, Mas'r Harry, only my legs ain't got no feeling in
'em.  Stop a minute, I think I can get that one out now."

We worked so hard, that at the end of a few minutes Tom was at liberty,
and after chafing his legs a little he was able to stand; but meanwhile
the horrors around were increasing every instant, and, to my excited
fancy, it seemed as if the earth was like some thick piece of carpet,
which was being made to undulate and pass in waves from side to side.

Dust everywhere--choking, palpable dust; and then as from afar off came
a faint roar, increasing each moment, till, with a furious rush, a
fierce wind came tearing through the ruins of the smitten town, sweeping
all before it, so that we had to cower down and seek protection from the
storm of earth, sand, dust, plaster, and fragments hurled against us by
the hurricane.

But the rush of wind was as brief as it was fierce, and it passed away;
when, in the lull that followed, came shrieks and moans from all
directions, and the sounds of hurrying, stumbling feet, and then, all at
once, from out of the thick darkness a voice cried: "Quick--quick!  To
the mountain--the sea is coming in!"

Then came more wails and shrieks from out of the darkness, followed by a
silence that was more awful than the noise.

For full five minutes that silence lasted, broken only by the fall of
some tottering beam.  Then came quickly, one after the other, short,
sharp, shivering vibrations of the earth beneath our feet--a shuddering
movement that was transferred to one's own frame; and then I began to
understand the meaning of the cry we had heard respecting the sea, for
from where I supposed it to be, now came a singular hissing, rushing
noise, gradually increasing to a roar, as of mighty waves, and mingled
with that roar there was the creaking and grinding together of shipping
and the hoarse shouting of the crews for help.

But gradually the noises ceased, save when a shuddering shock once more
made the earth to tremble beneath our feet, and some scrap of wood or
plaster to fall from riven wall or roof.  The tremendous choking dust,
too, began to settle down as we groped our way along over the ruins that
choked the streets.  Now we were lost--now, after a struggle, we
regained the way, trying to join one of the hurrying bands of fugitives
hastening from the place.

I spoke to one man, asking him if there was any more danger, but his
reply was in Spanish; and at last, led by Tom--who seemed by instinct to
know his way--we went down to the shore, strewn with wreck, when,
seizing a rope, and drawing a boat to the sand, Tom told me to enter,
and we half lay there, rising and falling upon the wave--rocked gently,
but wakeful ever, till the sun rose over the sea--bright, glorious, and
peaceful, as if there had been no havoc and desolation during the night.



CHAPTER NINE.

AN EARTHQUAKE ON FOUR LEGS.

"Say, Mas'r Harry, you won't stop in this blessed place, will you?" said
Tom, as, in the full light of day, we were, some hours after, busily
helping in the town, extricating the dead and wounded, and assisting to
bear them to the temporary hospital prepared for their reception.

The house where we had slept was, like hundreds more of the
lightly-built tenements, prostrate; and on visiting the scene our escape
seemed wonderful; while everywhere the mischief done was appalling--
houses toppled down, streets choked with ruins, towers split from top to
bottom, and stones hurled from the unroofed buildings into the gaping
cracks and fissures running down the streets.

But now that the first fright was over, people seemed to take the matter
very coolly, flocking back into the town, to sit and smoke and eat fruit
amidst the ruins of their homes, while others quietly set to work to
restore and repair damages.

"Has there ever been an earthquake here before?"  I said to a merchant
who spoke English.

"Earthquakes, my dear senor?  Yes, they are common things here."

"But will the inhabitants rebuild the town?"

"Surely.  Why not?  The site is charming."

I had my thoughts upon the subject, but I did not express them; so, too,
had Tom, but he did express his as above.

"Say, Mas'r Harry, you won't stop here, will you?"

"No," I said; "we are going up the country."

"Because this place ain't safe--there's a screw loose underground
somewheres.  Not that I mind.  Earthquakes ain't so much account after
all, if they'd come in the day; but all the same, I wouldn't stop here."

I had had no intention of stopping, only just long enough to see the
place and make arrangements for the prosecution of my journey; but this
catastrophe hurried my departure, and at the end of three days we were
both mounted on mules, travelling over hot, bare plains, with the sun
pouring down until one's brain seemed scorched; and when at last water
was reached, it was thick and muddy-looking, so that, but for our
horrible thirst we could not have touched it.

My ideas of South America had been undergoing a great change during the
past few days, and, quite disappointed, in the midst of a long burning
ride I made some remark to Tom about the heat.

"Hot, Mas'r Harry!" he said.  "Pooh! this ain't hot, 'Tis a little
warmer than the other place, because there is no sea-breeze, but I could
stand a deal more than this.  These here--will you be quiet, then?--
these here mules is the worst of it, though, sir.  They won't go like a
horse, nor yet like a donkey; and as to kicking--"

Tom stopped short, for he wanted his breath for other purposes, his
steed having once more turned refractory, kicking, rearing, shaking
itself in an effort to dislodge its rider, spinning round and round,
laying its long ears flat upon its neck, tucking its tail close in
between its legs, and then squeaking and squealing in the most
outrageous manner imaginable.

I have no doubt that it was most terribly unpleasant to the rider,
painful, probably; but to a looker-on it was one of the most ludicrous
of sights, and in spite of heat, weariness, and a tendency to low
spirits, I laughed till the tears ran down my cheeks, while Tom grinned
with pain and held on with both hands to the refractory beast.

"Ah! would you?" cried Tom, as the brute lifted its heels higher than
usual, nearly sending him over its head.  "There never was such a beast
as this here, Mas'r Harry.  If I'd only got a thicker stick!"

One could not pity him much, for at starting he had rejected three or
four quiet-looking beasts as too slow, and chosen the animal he rode, or
rather tried to ride, for, if the reader will pardon the Irishism, a
great deal of Tom's riding was walking, and performed by leading his
beast by its bridle.

But really it was a deceptive beast, and to have seen it drooping its
head and walking calmly and peacefully by its hirer's side, no one would
have imagined that it possessed so much mischievous sagacity as it very
soon displayed when anyone attempted to mount it.

"I like 'em with some sperrit in 'em, Mas'r Harry," Tom had said.  "If
it was a horse it would be different; but if one's to ride a donkey,
let's have one with something in it."

And verily Tom's donkey, as he called it, was not very long before it
showed that it had, indeed, something in it, a great deal more, in fact,
than Tom had bargained for.  We did not pass many trees by the track,
but when we did come upon one Tom had certain information thereof, for
the mule rubbed his rider's leg vigorously against the trunk.  The sight
of a muddy pool of water was the signal for him to squeak, elevate his
heels, and then go off at a sharp gallop, when, if his rider did not
quickly slip off behind, he would be carried into the pool and bathed,
for the mule would drink his fill and then indulge in a roll in the mud
and water.  In short, I never before saw so many acts of cunning in an
animal, one and all directed at dislodging the rider.

At first I was in a state of tremor lest his vagaries should infect the
beasts ridden by myself and the guide; but no, they were evidently
elderly mules--bordering on a hundred they might have been, from their
grey and mangy aspect.  They had sown their wild oats years before, and
all that they did was to trudge solemnly on, quiet and sure-footed, if
not swift.

Tom's mishaps had their pleasant face, though; they served to make a
horribly monotonous journey more bearable, and on an average he was in
grief, some way or another, about every two hours.

"Oh, senor," said the guide proudly, "the mule is perfect!  He is a
magnificent beast, but he has his antipathies.  He used to be ridden by
the padre, and he is a most holy and Christian mule.  He shows his
dislike a little sometimes like that, because the senor who rides him is
a heretic."

"Oh!"  I said.

"Yes, it is so, senor, I assure you," said the guide.  "Let your friend
ride my beast and I will take his, and then you will see how peaceable
he is."

At first Tom did not seem disposed to agree, for he did not like being
beaten; but I ordered him to dismount, his accidents tending so greatly
to lengthen our journey.  So the exchange of mules was made, and on we
went once more.

"See, senor!" said the guide.  "He is a pattern mule, is Juan; he goes
like a lamb.  It is a natural dislike that he has not learned to subdue.
He does not know what good men and generous there are amongst the
heretics."

"Haw, haw, haw, haw!  Look at that, Mas'r Harry--there's a game!" roared
Tom, for the guide had hardly done speaking, just as we were travelling
pleasantly along, before Juan, the mule, stopped short, put his head
between his legs, elevated his hind-quarters, and the next moment the
guide was sitting amongst the stones staring up at us with a most
comical expression of countenance.

"The beast has been cursed!" he cried angrily as he rose.
"Car-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-ambo! but you shall starve for this, Juan!"

"Let me have another turn at him," cried Tom, as he started off to catch
the mule, which had cantered off a few hundred yards, and was searching
about with his nose amongst the sand and stones for a few succulent
blades of grass where there was not so much as a thistle or a cactus to
be seen.

But Juan had no wish to be caught, and after leading his pursuer a
tolerable race, he stopped short, and placed all four hoofs together, so
as to turn easily as upon a pivot, presenting always his tail to the
hand that caught at his bridle.

"Poor fellow, then!  Come, then--come over," said Tom soothingly.

But the only response he obtained was an occasional lift of the beast's
heels, and an angry kick.

"You ignorant brute, you can't understand plain English!" cried Tom
angrily.

"No, senor, he is a true Spanish mule," said the guide, coming up.

Between them, Tom and he soon managed to catch Juan, when, holding
tightly by the reins, the guide vented his displeasure and took his
revenge by thoroughly drumming the poor brute's ribs with a stout stick,
after which Tom mounted, and our journey for the next two hours was
without incident.

But we were not to get to the end of the day without mishap.  The sun
had begun to descend, and we were panting along, longing for the sight
of water to quench our burning throats, when Juan began to show that the
pain from the guide's drubbing had evaporated.  First of all he indulged
in a squeal or two, then he contrived to kick the mule I rode upon one
of its legs, when, emboldened by the success of the manoeuvre, he waited
his time, and then, sidling up to his companion ridden by the guide, he
discharged a fierce kick at him, nearly catching the guide in the shin;
but the result was a tremendous crack from a stick right upon Juan's
back--a blow which made him shake his head with dissatisfaction till his
ears rattled again.

He had forgotten the pain, though, in ten minutes, and the first hint we
had thereof was a squeal and feat of sleight of _heel_, in which, to all
appearances, Juan stood perpendicularly upon his nose and fore-feet for
half a minute, like a fleshly tripod, while his rider, or rather his
late rider, rolled over and over, the centre of a cloud of impalpable
dust, coughing and sneezing, and muttering fiercely.

"There!" exclaimed Tom, as he jumped up and began beating the dust from
his garments.  "That's four times that brute has had me off to-day.
I've rid everything in my time, Mas'r Harry, from a pig up to a parish
bull.  I've been on sheep and donkeys, and when I was at the
blacksmith's I rode all sorts of restive beasts as come to be shod, but
I never did get on such a brute as that; his skin don't fit him, and he
slippers about between your legs all sorts of ways; but I mean to ride
him yet.  Now just you try him half an hour, Mas'r Harry, to see what
he's like."

"Not I, thank you, Tom," was my reply.  "I'm very well content."

"So am I, Mas'r Harry, only he makes me so sore; but I ain't bet yet, I
can tell him.  Come over, then!"

But the mule would not "come over, then!" and there ensued a fierce
fight of kicks between Tom and his steed, Tom essaying to kick the mule
for punishment in the ribs; the mule, nowise taken aback, returning the
compliment, by essaying to kick his late rider anywhere, though without
success.  It might have been imagined, to see the artful feints and
moves, that the mule was endowed with human reason.  Tom was more than a
match for him at last, though, for, slipping off his jacket, he threw it
over the mule's head and held it there, confusing the poor beast, so
that it could not avoid a couple of heartily given kicks in the ribs;
and before it could recover from its surprise Tom was once more seated
upon its back in triumph.

"I can stand a wonderful sight of kicking off, Mas'r Harry, I can tell
you!  I ain't bet yet!  Co-o-me on, will you!"

Apparently cowed, now that the jacket was removed, the mule journeyed on
very peaceably, till leaving the plain we began to ascend a precipitous
mountain-side, the track each moment growing more and more sterile,--if
it were possible--grand, and at the same time dangerous.  And now it was
that we began to see the qualities of the mules in the cautious way they
picked their steps, feeling each loose piece of path before trusting
their weight to it, and doing much towards removing a strange sensation
of tremor evoked by the fact that we were progressing along a shelf of
rugged rock some two feet wide--the scarped mountain-side upon our
right, a vast precipice on the left.

More than once I was for getting down to walk, but the guide dissuaded
me, as he declared that it was far better to trust to the mules, who
were never known to slip.

A couple of miles of such travelling served to somewhat reassure me--
familiarity with danger breeding contempt; and I called out to Tom:

"I hope your beast won't bear malice, Tom, for this would be an awkward
place for him to try his capers."

I said so thoughtlessly, just at a time when we were descending; Tom's
beast, which was before me, walking along with the most rigorous care as
to where he set his feet.

"Oh!  I say, don't, Mas'r Harry," whined Tom, "don't!  It's no joke, you
know, and this mule understands every word you say--leastwise he might,
you know.  I ain't afraid, only he might--"

Tom's sentence was not finished; for, in fact, just as if every word I
had uttered had been comprehended, down went the beast's head, his heels
were elevated, and the next moment, to my horror, poor Tom was over the
side of the path, and rolling swiftly down to apparent destruction.

He was brought up, though, the next moment by the reins, which he
tightly grasped, and which fortunately did not give way, though they
tightened with a jerk that must have nearly dislocated the mule's neck.
The leather, fortunately, now strained and stretched, but held firm;
while, planting its fore-feet close to the edge of the precipice, and
throwing its body back against the scarped wall, the mule stood firm as
the rock itself, but snorting loudly as with glaring eyeballs it stared
down at Tom; who hung there, trying to obtain some rest for his feet,
but uttering no sound, only gazing up at us with a wild look that said
plainly as could be, "Don't leave me here to die!"

It was no easy task to help him; for the guide and I had both to
dismount on to a narrow ledge of rock, clinging the while to our mules;
but we achieved that part of our task, and the next moment, one on each
side of Juan, we were kneeling down and trying to reach Tom's hands.

But our efforts were vain, for the mule was in the way, and there was
not standing room for all three.  There was but one way of helping, and
that looked too desperate to be attempted, and I hesitated to propose it
as I knelt shivering there.

The same thought, though, had occurred to Tom, and in a husky voice he
said:

"Take hold of the guide's hand, Mas'r Harry, and creep under the mule's
legs to his side."

It was no time to hesitate; and I did as I was told, the mule giving
utterance to quite a shriek as I passed.

"Now can you both reach the bridle?"  Tom whispered.

"Yes, yes!" we both exclaimed.

"Hold on tight then, while one of you cuts it through, and then the mule
will be out of the way."

We each took a good grip of the leathern thong, raising it so that we
had Tom's full weight upon our muscles; and then crouching down so as
not to be drawn over, I hastily drew out my knife, opened it with some
difficulty by means of my teeth, and then tried to cut the bridle above
our hands.

But feeling himself partly relieved of his burden, the mule began to
grow restless, stamping, whinnying, and trying to get free.  For a
moment I thought we might utilise his power, and make him back and help
draw Tom up; but the narrowness of the ledge forbade it, and he would
only have been drawn sidewise till the rein broke.

Twice I tried to cut the bridle, but twice the mule balked me, and I was
glad to ease the fearful strain on one arm by catching at the hand that
held the knife.

"Try again, Mas'r Harry, please," whispered Tom.  "I can't hang much
longer."

With a desperate effort I cut at the rein, and divided it close to the
mule's mouth.

He started back a few inches, tightening the other rein; but now, once
more, I was grasping the rein with both hands lest it should slip
through my fingers, and at the same moment the knife fell, striking Tom
on the cheek and making the blood spurt out, before flying down--down to
a depth that was horrible to contemplate.

It was a fearful time, and as I crouched there a cold sensation seemed
to be creeping through the marrow of all my bones.  We could not raise
Tom for the mule, I could not cut the rein, and upon asking I found that
the guide had no knife, and, what was worse, it was evident that he was
losing nerve.

I dared not try to heave--it would have been madness, cumbered and
crowded together as we were; and in those brief moments of agony it
seemed to me that I was Tom's murderer, for, but on account of my wild
thirst for coming abroad, he might have been safe at home.

"Try--try again, Mas'r Harry, please," whispered the poor fellow
imploringly; "I shouldn't like to die out here in these savage parts,
nor yet this how.  Make one more try to get rid of that beast."

As if to show that he was not all bad, just at the moment when it seemed
that all chance of saving poor Tom was gone, when our arms felt to be
dragging out of their sockets, and a something drawing me by a strange
fascination, joined to the weight, over the side of the precipice--the
mule gave a wild squeal, shook its head for an instant, seized the tight
rein in its teeth, and bit it through.

The next moment it gave a whinny of relief, planted its feet on my back
as I half lay down, leaped over me, and was out of our way; while how we
managed the next part I cannot say.  All I know is that there was a
horrible struggle, a scrambling rush, the panting groans of those who
fought with grim death, and then I lay half-fainting upon the shelf,
with honest old Tom at my side.

"Thank Heaven!"  I muttered.

"Amen, Mas'r Harry!" said Tom in a whisper; and then for some time no
one spoke.

Half an hour after, very quiet and sober of mien, we were leading our
mules down the shelf, unnerved and trembling, till once more the plain
was reached, and with it rest for the night.



CHAPTER TEN.

PLAYING AT HEROES.

And so we journeyed on day after day, through heat and dust, and arid,
stony lands; with my heart sinking lower and lower and the thought of
home not being so very bad a place after all continually forcing itself
upon me, till our guide suddenly announced our proximity to the place I
had come these thousands of miles to seek.  And now it was that from
where it had sunk my heart gave a great leap of exultation, and I sat
for long enough upon my bony mule drinking in the scene before me.

For the last three days our ride had been over stone and sand, with here
and there a melancholy palm shooting up from the drab-hued desert, the
sun beating down and being reflected up in a way that was almost
unbearable; even Tom riding with his mouth open, panting like a dog, his
face coated with perspiration and dust; while when at night we had
stopped at some wretched makeshift of an inn--a hut generally where a
grass hammock and a little lukewarm water was the total accommodation--a
wash or bath of any kind had been quite out of the question.  But now,
as we were descending a steep mountain-side, it seemed as if we had
suddenly dropped into one of the most lovely spots on earth, riding at
once right in beneath the shade of a huge forest, with a sea of green
leaves spreading out before us in every direction.

By comparison the coolness was delightful, and we rode through a vast
arcade over a golden net-work spread by the sun upon the grassy
undergrowth; whilst from afar off came that sweetest of sounds to a
parched and thirsty traveller, the murmuring of falling water, now soft
and gentle, now increasing to a roar.

"Great river, senors," said our guide, pointing forward.  "Senor Don
Reuben Landell on other side."

"Say, Mas'r Harry," said Tom just then, "they ain't sure where the
Garden of Eden was, are they?  I'm blest if I don't think we've found
the very spot, and if--There she goes!"

I can't say whether Tom's mind was running just then upon Eve, but as a
light figure seemed to flit into our sight and stand gazing at us with
bright and wondering eyes, mine did; and for a few minutes after she had
disappeared amongst the trees I sat in my saddle without speaking.

But the glorious verdure around soon made me forget the fair vision; and
now, riding on a few paces, now halting at an opening in the forest, I
sat drinking in the scene with the feelings of one in a dream.

Then we rode on a hundred yards up an ascent, with the sun full upon us
once more, to descend a precipitous path, holding on tightly by the
mule, which one expected to slip and hurl one down a gulf at the side;
but the descent was safely made, and then we stood gazing at a belt of
cultivated ground--the forest and river lying off to our right.

"There is the river path, senors," said our guide, "straight down.  The
ground is soft and bad for the mules, and I go back.  You will find a
gentleman to take you over the great river; but I would look about me;
there are little snakes, the great water-boa, and the crocodiles of the
river."

Then saluting us with his half-bred Spanish politeness, our guide stood
while we possessed ourselves of our light luggage, and then led off his
mules, leaving us to follow the pointed-out direction, which took us
down to the swampy bank of a great muddy river flowing gently by us,
cutting its way, as it were, through a forest of mighty trees, whose
tall stems shot up from the water's edge.  There was a small canoe
tethered to a sapling where the path ceased, but no sign of its owner;
while half a mile in front, across the river, was an opening in the
trees similar to that in which we stood, which was, doubtless, the path
we were to pursue.

We stood in deep shadow; but the sun was flashing from the breast of the
river as it rolled slowly on, its even surface unbroken save here and
there by some water-bird; while in several places what seemed to be
rough tree-trunks were floating slowly down with the stream.  The great
trees were wreathed and festooned to the water's edge with parasites and
vines; and now and then the shrill cry of some parrot rang out, the bird
flashing into sight for an instant, and then disappearing amidst the
glorious verdure.

"Well, Tom," I said, "this is different from the old country."

But he did not reply; and turning, I found him gazing fixedly amongst
the swamp herbage, through which was a wet, muddy track, when, following
the direction of his gaze and peering into the shade, I became aware of
a pair of the most hideous, hateful eyes fixed upon me that I had ever
seen.  I was heated with walking over the wet ground, and there was a
warm, steamy exhalation rising around; but in a moment my tongue became
dry and a cold perspiration bedewed my limbs, as, fascinated almost, I
stood gazing within six feet of the monster, which now began slowly a
retrograde motion till the herbage hid it from our sight.  Then there
was a loud rustling rush, a splash in the water, and wave after wave
proclaimed the size of the beast that had, fortunately for us, declined
to attack.

"Whurra!" exclaimed Tom with a shudder.  "Say, Mas'r Harry, do newts
grow as big as that out here?"

"It was a crocodile, Tom," I said with a shiver.  "And look--look!  Why,
the river swarms with them!"

"So it does, seemin'ly," exclaimed Tom as I pointed out the slimy backs
of half-a-score of them floating down the stream; for I could see now
that they were no trees, while here and there on the muddy bank we could
make out a solitary monster basking, open-mouthed, in the sun.

"Come along," I said, "let's get over."

"But will they touch the boat, Mas'r Harry?  I ain't afraid, you know,
only they are queersome beasts as ever I did see."

"I don't think there's any fear of that," I said; "but at any rate we
must get over."

Stepping close to the water's edge I drew the light canoe up by its bark
rope, disturbing either a small reptile or some great fish as I did so,
for there was a rushing swirl in the water and the frail vessel rocked
to and fro.

In spite of Tom's declarations to the effect that such a pea-shuck would
sink with us, I stepped in and he followed; when, taking the paddles, we
pushed off and began to make our way out into the stream, Tom's eyes
glancing around as he dipped in his paddle cautiously, expecting every
moment that it would touch a crocodile; but using our paddles--clumsily
enough, as may be supposed--we made some way, and then paused to
consider whether we should go forward or backward, for we had at one and
the same time arrived at the knowledge that the strong stream was our
master, and that until we had attained to some skill in the use of the
paddles any progress upstream towards the landing-place was out of the
question.

"We must get across lower down, Tom," I said, "and then walk back."

"What! through the wood, Mas'r Harry?"

"Yes, through the wood."

"Lor'!  No, don't do that, Mas'r Harry.  We shall be eat up alive!  Them
there woods swarms with snakes--I know they do.  And just look there!"
he cried, splashing fiercely with his paddle to frighten a huge reptile,
but without effect; for the great beast came slowly floating down in all
its native hideousness, its rugged bark-like back and the rough
prominences above its eyes out of the muddy water, one eye peering at us
with the baleful look peculiar to this fearful beast.

The next minute it had passed us, and we were once more paddling slowly
on, the river having swept us quite out of sight of the landing-place.
But the sights around were so novel that I rather enjoyed our passage.
In spite of Tom's anxiety, every now and then I ceased paddling to gaze
at some bright-plumaged bird flitting from tree to tree overhanging the
stream.  Once I made sure that the great bare vine which swung between
two boughs must be a serpent, till, passing by, we made out its real
character.

At last, though, I awoke to the fact that it was time to be up and
doing, for the current had swept us round a great bend of the river, and
below us I saw that for a wide stretch of quite a couple of miles the
river was broken up by rapids.  Great masses of rock thrust their bare
heads out of the water like river monsters, and round them the muddy
tide bubbled, and foamed, and eddied.

It was plain enough that we were approaching a dangerous part, and had
not our sense warned us of the peril we had ample warning in the
increased swiftness and troubled state of the stream.  I saw at a glance
that a boat would have but a poor chance of existing amongst the rocky
way if it should be swept there, and I had taken a firm grip of my
paddle when--

"Look, Tom!"  I cried.

And for a moment our attention was taken up by one of those glorious
golden-green and scarlet birds--the trogons--flitting close by us, its
emerald crest and gorgeous yard-long tail-feathers flashing in the sun,
while its brilliant scarlet breast was for a moment reflected in the
water.

"Oh, you beauty!" cried Tom.  "If I only had my old gun!  But, I say,
Mas'r Harry, paddle away!"

Already somewhat more used to the propellers, we began to force the boat
towards the opposite bank, hoping to get into an eddy that should help
us along; but we had dallied with our task, and the stream now ran more
swiftly than ever.  Still we made some progress, and were contriving to
dip together, when I almost let my paddle pass from my hands, for a
strange, wild cry rang along the surface of the water.

"What's that?"  I exclaimed.

"I should say it was one of them pleasant brutes out for a holiday--one
of them tiger or leopard things, like what we used to see in Wombwell's
show, like great tomcats.  I'll lay a wager this is the spot where they
live when they're at home and go yowling about."

"There it is again!"  I exclaimed excitedly.  "Why, it was a cry for
help.  There is some one in the river!"

"Then he'd better hold his tongue," said Tom, "and not get shouting, or
he'll have all these great beasts come rushing at him, same as they did
in the ponds at home when we used to throw in a worm upon a bent pin and
fish for the little newts.  There, Mas'r Harry, look at that chap!"

As he spoke Tom pointed with his paddle at a great uncouth monster, some
twelve feet long and tremendously thick, which had raised its head from
the slime in which it wallowed upon the edge of the river, and was
slowly turning itself, first in one and then in another direction,
before splashing a little and then shooting itself off into deep water
with one stroke of its powerful tail.

"Ugh, the brutes!" ejaculated Tom.  "They'd make short work of a fellow
if he was thrown in for live bait.  But, I say, that is some one
shouting, Mas'r Harry."

"Paddle down closer towards the rapids, Tom," I said excitedly.

Then, for a moment we forgot our own danger as with a sharp stroke or
two we sent the canoe out in full stream, so that it swept down swiftly.

"You're right, Mas'r Harry--you're right!" said Tom, eager now as I was
myself.  "Look--look, there's a canoe upset!"

"Paddle away!"  I cried as another shout came ringing towards us, just
as I obtained a good view of what was taking place below.

"But we shall be over too, Mas'r Harry, if you row like that.  Lord help
them, though, if there ain't a woman in the water!"  Tom cried, working
his paddle furiously--an example I had set him.

Swaying about, the little vessel raced almost through the troubled
waters, which each moment grew more rough, leaping and dancing, and
threatening at times to splash right into our frail boat.

Our excitement was pardonable, for right in front of us, and about two
hundred yards down the river, there was a sight which made my nerves
tingle, and the paddle in my hands to feel like a straw.  A canoe of
about double the size of our own had been overset in the rapids, and,
with four figures clinging to it, was rapidly floating down stream
amidst the boiling waters, which leaped and seethed round them.  Now we
could see that two of the figures were making efforts to turn the canoe;
but it was evident that in the rough water, and with the others clinging
to it, this was impossible; and, evidently half-strangled and bewildered
in the fierce rush, they had given up the next minute, and were clinging
to the vessel's sides.

Now it was hurried down a rapid with a tremendous rush, to be tossing
the next moment in the deep below, whirling round and round, now half
under, now by its buoyancy rising again with its clinging freight, to be
swept into an eddy where the water was comparatively calm, but only to
be slowly driven back again into the swift current hastening down the
rocky <DW72>; and a groan of dismay burst from my breast as I saw the
boat dashed against a great black jagged mass of rock right in its way.
But the next instant the party had glided round it, and were again being
swept downwards where the river was one mass of creamy foam.

How we went down I cannot tell you, for it was due to no skill on our
part; the wonder is that we were not overset a score of times; but
somehow, almost miraculously, we seemed to avoid rock after rock that
was scattered in our way, the little canoe bounding along in a mad race
as we plied our paddles with all the energy at our command.  I have
often thought since that our rough action and chance-work way of running
the gauntlet amidst the rocks was the reason of our success, where
skilled managers of a canoe would have come to grief; but, be that as it
may, in a wild exciting race we dashed on and on down the gradual watery
<DW72>, the noise of many waters thundering in our ears, while, with what
I believe is the true generous spirit of an Englishman pervading us, we
forgot our own danger in the sight of that incurred by the party in the
rapids.

"Go it, Mas'r Harry!"  Tom roared, mad almost with excitement, as he
scooped away with his paddle.  "Hurraw!  Who's afraid?  That's a good
un!  Now again!  Brayvo! lay into it, my hearty!"

We gained upon the upset boat swiftly, when, as the clinging party were
swept into a tolerably smooth reach that intervened between a fierce
race of water and the next dangerous spot, I saw one of the men leave
the canoe and strike boldly out for the shore, followed directly after
by two more, whose dusky skin proclaimed them of Indian blood.

"Why, only look there--three men and one woman!" cried Tom.  "And if
they haven't gone away and left her!  This ain't old England, Mas'r
Harry; we don't do things that how at home.  Paddle away!  Mind, sir, or
you'll have us over!  Only wish I had a couple of tallow staves instead
of this wooden spoon.  Paddle away, sir!  Cowardly warmint!  That's it,
sir; this boat's as light as a cork, but don't have us over.  We shall
soon reach her now--mind, steady, for I'm scared to death of the water,
and I wouldn't swim as they do, not for a thousand pounds--not but what
I could if I liked.  That's it, sir, only another thirty yards--long
strokes and steady ones, and--hold on, my dear, we're coming."

"Push on, Tom--push on, and save your breath," I cried, "for Heaven's
sake!  Ah!--"

I could not restrain that cry--it burst from my lips, for just at that
moment I saw the female figure, yet clinging to the overturned canoe,
glide from her hold, as if drawn away by some invisible agency down,
down, gradually beneath the swift tide.

"It's one of them great wild beasts got her!" cried Tom, giving vent to
the thought that had flashed across my brain.  "Oh! don't--pray, pray
don't, Mas'r Harry!"  I heard him shriek.  "I'm scared to death of these
waters, and if you go I must too, for I swore I'd stick to you like a--
Oh, Mas'r Harry!"

With Tom's voice ringing in my ears, but having no more effect than they
would have had in staying the swift rush of the rapids, I had in one and
the same moment recognised the drowning face, and, paddle in hand,
leaped from the frail canoe into the foaming river.

That was a wild and thrilling moment, when, nerving myself to the
encounter, I battled with the fierce water, trying to put into practice
every feint and feat that I had learned in old bathing times at home,
when sporting in the summer evenings in our little river.  Speed,
though, and skill in swimming seemed unavailing here, as I felt the
waters wreathe round me, strangling me, as it were, in a cold embrace;
then seizing me to drag me here, to drag me there; dashing me against
this rock, against that, and directly after sending a cold chill of
horror through every nerve, as a recollection of the hideous reptiles
abounding in the river flashed upon me, when I felt myself sucked down
lower and lower in the vortex of some eddy between the rocks.  It was
like dreaming of swimming in some horrible nightmare, my every effort
being checked when I strove to reach the drowning girl; and again and
again, when just on the point of clutching her light garments, I was
swept away, to begin once more fighting towards her with the energy of
despair.

At last, however, my arm was round her, and two little hands closed upon
my shoulders, clinging to me with a despairing grip, as I fought hard to
keep on the surface; but only to be swept here and there, helpless as a
fragment of wood, the muddy water the while thundering in my ears and
bubbling angrily at my lips.

Now up, now down--over, and over, and over, rolling along a shallow
smooth platform of rock, and then into deeper water again.  I began to
feel that I was fighting my last fight, and that the enemy was too
strong.

But still I fought on--more feebly, 'tis true, but still with the
stubborn determination of an unworthy representative of that nation
which was said by a great general not to know when they were beaten.

Then came a respite, as I was swept into still water; but I was too weak
now to take advantage of it before I was borne into the next rapid,
foaming to receive me with my burden.

The river was here like a series of long rugged steps, with here fierce
tumbling waters, there a smooth interval, but only to be succeeded again
and again by broken water, into another foaming chaos of which I was
swept.

It was now one wild confusion of struggling wave and roaring, foaming
surf; then came a dim sense that I was half stunned by a fierce blow--
that I was growing weaker--that I was drowning fast; and for an instant
a pang shot through me as I seemed to see vividly a portion of my past
life, and thought of how hard it was to die so young.

I was again swept into the still water, and my arm struck out
involuntarily as, my lips well above water, I drew in a long breath--a
long invigorating draught of the breath of life; but my efforts were
feeble, and my mind was misty and confused, but only for a few moments.
In a flash, as it were of light, the horror of my position came upon me,
and I gave utterance to a cry of terror, for suddenly there was a fierce
rushing swirl in the water.  I felt something strike me obliquely; then
the light figure I had striven so hard to save was almost jerked from my
arm, and the next instant we were being borne swiftly along through the
water upstream and towards the shore.

Jerk, jerk, jerk! and I gazed with horror upon the pale face close to
mine, fortunately insensible; my eyes seemed ready to start from their
sockets with horror; there was a sensation as of a ghostly hand stirring
my wet hair; and then once more I gave utterance to a strange hoarse cry
that startled even me; for as--in spite of my weakness--my mental
energies grew momentarily clearer I thoroughly realised the horror of
our position, and that we were being dragged rapidly away by one of the
ravenous reptiles of the river.



CHAPTER ELEVEN.

IN THE WOODS.

Death, we are told, has been met by the brave-hearted again and again
unflinchingly; but such a death as was now threatening me and the poor
girl I was trying to save must have made the stoutest blench.  For my
part, a chill of horror seemed to pass through every limb, thoroughly
unnerving me, so that my efforts were but feeble as I felt myself
sweeping through the water towards the bank, where the stream ran
swiftly, but free of rocks, while its eddies and whirlpools showed that
there were holes and places worn in beneath the banks, to one of which
it seemed evident the monster was making.

I made one desperate struggle, as, nearing the bank, the water
shallowed; but the slight figure was still dragged swiftly onward, while
twice over I felt the rough slimy body of the monster in contact with my
legs.  All defence or attack--all prospect of escape, seemed out of the
question, and by the action of the water I was turned over helplessly
upon my back, the muddy stream flowing over my face half-strangling me.
I had during the last few moments been fast approaching to a dreamy
state, which dulled the acute horror of my position, and I believe that
a few more moments would have produced insensibility, when I was
galvanised, as it were, back into vigorous action by a sound as
something grazed my shoulder.

"Now, then, hold fast by the side--hold fast!" was shrieked in my ears
as a hand grasped mine, guiding it to the edge of the canoe, to which I
clung with renewed energy as we were racing through the shallows at a
tremendous rate.  Then came a shouting, and the vigorous beating of the
water with a paddle, a tremendous rushing swirl, which nearly overset
the canoe, and our locomotion was at an end, the vessel floating lightly
in a deep pool beneath the trees.  A few strokes of the paddle and the
prow struck the muddy bank; and before I could recover from the
prostration I felt myself dragged on to the grass, and my arm roughly
torn from the waist it so tightly encircled; but not before I had seen
that the clinging garments were torn--rent down one side, evidently
where the huge beast had seized its prey; and then there was the
muttering of voices, the rustling of the undergrowth as a passage was
forced through it, and we were alone.

"I'd have said thanky for a good deal less than that, if it had been
me," said Tom gruffly, as he stood gazing after the retreating party.
"They're a nice lot, Mas'r Harry--swam off like a set of copper-skinned
varmints, and left the gal to drownd; and when some one else has the
pluck to save her, they look savage and disappointed, and snatch her
away just as if they were recovering stolen goods.  My eye, though,
Mas'r Harry, it was a narrer escape--worse than swinging under that old
donkey's nose!"

My only reply was a shudder.

"I didn't think it so precious bad, Mas'r Harry, when we was up at that
landing-place in the ship; but I do think now as we're getting it rather
warm: only ashore here a few days, and we've had our lodging shook about
our ears; I've been pitched over a precipice like the side of a house;
and you've been a'most swallowed and drowned by a great newt.  I'll give
in.  It is a trifle hotter than it was at home.  But say, Mas'r Harry,
it ain't going to be all in this style, is it?  Why it's like being
heroes in a book--Robinson Crusoe and Man Friday, and all on in that
tune, and us not knowing how much hotter we're going to have it!"

"Matter of chance, Tom," I said, wringing the water from my clothes as I
stood in the hot sun.  "We may be here for years and have no more
adventures.  Perhaps, after so rough a welcome, matters may turn out
gloriously."

Tom began to whistle and pick leaves to chew and spit out again, till I
pronounced my readiness to proceed.

"Paddles are both in the boat," said Tom, then, as he secured the canoe
by its bark rope to a tree, "we've got over the river, Mas'r Harry,
that's one thing; but how far we are down below the landing-place I
dunno, I'm sure."

We proved to be much farther below than I thought for, enough time
elapsing for my clothes to get nearly dry in the patches of hot sun we
passed as we wound our way through the forest, the rushing noise of the
river on our right guiding us in our efforts to keep within range of the
bank, which we avoided on account of the huge beasts we had seen basking
there.

"This is a rum sort of country and no mistake, Mas'r Harry," said Tom at
last, as he stood mopping the perspiration from his face; "but, somehow
or other, one feels just the same here as one did in the old place, and
I'm as hungry now as if I hadn't had a morsel to eat for a week.  Is it
much farther, Mas'r Harry?"

"I don't know how many miles we've come," I replied.

But his words had fully accounted for a strange sensation of faintness
that troubled me.  A little more perseverance, though, brought us to the
track--one that we might have reached in a quarter of the time had we
known the way.

A short walk showed us that we were correct, for we went along the track
to the river, so as to make sure of this being the one we sought--for
being lost in these wilds was something not to be thought of for a
minute.  There, though, on the other side of the stream, was the
landing-place from which we had started, only to reach our present
position after a roundabout eventful journey.

"All right, Mas'r Harry--come along," said Tom, turning.

And now, pursuing the track, we found that we were gradually mounting a
<DW72>, till the trees were left behind and we stood upon an eminence
looking down upon my uncle's house.

All that we had seen beautiful before seemed to fail before the picture
upon which we now gazed, where all that was lavish in nature had been
aided by the hand of man, cultivation subduing and enriching, till the
region below us blushed in beauty; for we were looking down upon a
lightly-built, pleasantly-shaded house, with its green jalousie-covered
windows, and great creeper-burdened verandah, gaily-painted, and running
right round the house.

The place stood in the midst of a grove of verdure of the most glorious
golden-green, rich with the great crimson, coral-like blossoms of what
is there called _madre del cacao_--the cocoa's mother--tall, regularly
planted trees, cultivated for the protection and shade they give to the
plants beneath, great bananas loaded with fruit, bright green coffee
bushes, and the cocoa with its pods, green, yellow, blood-red, and
purple.  The roughly erected fences were, so to speak, smothered with
glorious trumpet-blossomed convolvuli, whose bright hues were peering
ever from a bed of heart and spear shaped richly green leaves.



CHAPTER TWELVE.

THE HACIENDA.

Clear and bright was the sky, and wherever the rays of the sun
penetrated it was for them to fall in a shower of golden arrows, and
form tracery upon the green carpet beneath the trees, amid whose
branches, screaming, chattering, climbing, and hanging head downwards,
or fluttering from bough to bough, were hundreds of rainbow-hued
parrots, beautiful as Nature's dyes could paint.

It was a scene of exceeding beauty, and was not lost even upon blunt,
hungry Tom.

"Well," he exclaimed, "if this don't pay for coming out, may I never
again wire out a bar of best mottled.  It's a rum sort of country
though; one time frightening you to death, and the next minute coaxing
you into staying.  S'pose, Mas'r Harry, that there's a sort of foreign
market-garden?"

"If I'm not mistaken, Tom, that's my uncle's plantation."

"With all my heart, Mas'r Harry; but choked as I am with thirst I should
like one of them pumpkins or some of the other outlandish fruits.  Let's
have a pen'orth, sir.  My! what a sight though!  I hope this is the
spot.  But there, only look, Mas'r Harry, did you ever see such
sparrows?  Look at the colour of 'em!  If I don't take home a cageful,
and one of them red and yaller poll-parrots, I don't stand here now.
But are you sure your uncle Reuben lives here, Mas'r Harry?"

"I think this must be the spot, Tom," I said, "according to the guide's
description."

"Why, he must be quite a lord, sir.  He's never touched taller or soap
in his life, I'll bet.  But, say, Mas'r Harry, we look rough uns to go
and see him, don't us?"

I laughed and then led the way, Tom following close behind, till we
entered a sort of court-yard surrounded by sheds, with men and women
busily at work at what I afterwards learned was the preparation of the
cocoa.

"And you're Harry Grant then, are you?" said a tall, brown-skinned man,
who was pointed out to me as the owner of the place, and who, upon my
introducing myself, received me with a hearty English grip of the hand.
"Hang it, my lad, it brings old times back to see a face fresh from
home!  You're your mother's boy plain enough.  But come in, and welcome,
my lad, though we have been in a bit of a stew; my girl upset in a canoe
and half drowned; but the gentleman with her saved her.  She's not much
the worse for it, though."

I turned round hastily and just in time to stop Tom, who was about to
blurt out the whole affair, for I thought it better to be silent, I
hardly knew why, my mind being just then in a state of confusion, it
being rather startling to find that I had probably been the means of
saving the life of my own cousin; though why the gentleman who was with
her--whoever he might be--should have the credit of what Tom and I had
done, I did not know.  Anyhow, I was to be beneath the same roof, and I
thought matters would come right in the end.

My uncle led the way into a cool half-darkened room, where I was
introduced to an aunt, of whose existence I was not aware, inasmuch as
she was the lately married widow of a neighbouring planter.  Then I
heard my uncle say:

"Not lying down, Lill?  All right again?  Glad of it!  Well, this is a
cousin for you, and I hope you will be good friends."

I hardly know what I did or said just then; for timidly coming forward
out of the shade, I saw the fair vision of the morning, but now deadly
pale--the maiden whom a couple of hours before I had rescued from so
horrible a death.  She was dressed in a simple muslin, and her long fair
hair, yet clammy and damp, was tied with a piece of blue ribbon, and
hung down her shoulders.  It was the same sweet English face that might
be seen in many a country home far away in our northern islands; but out
there, in that tropic land, with its grand scenery and majestic
vegetation, she seemed to me, in spite of her pallor, to be fairy-like
and ethereal; and for a while, as I thought of the events of a short
time before--events in which she was unconscious that I had played a
somewhat important part--I was blundering and awkward, and unable to say
more than a few of the commonest words of greeting.

I have no doubt that they all thought me an awkward clumsy oaf, and I
must have looked it; but I was suddenly brought to myself by my uncle's
voice and the sight of a pair of eyes.

"Harry," said my uncle, performing the ceremony of introduction,
"Mr--(I beg his pardon) Don--Don Pablo Garcia, a neighbour of mine--the
gentleman who just saved Lilla's life.  Garcia, my nephew--my sister's
son--from old England."

Instinctively I held out my hand, and the next moment it was clasping
something cold and damp and fishlike.  A few words in English passed,
but they were muttered mechanically, and for a few moments, each
apparently unable to withdraw his hand, we two stood looking in each
other's eyes, my expression--if it was a true index of my heart--being
that of wonder and distrust; for I seemed again, for the first time in
my life, to be undergoing a new series of sensations.  I knew in that
instant of time that I was gazing into the eyes of a deadly enemy--of a
man who, for self-glorification, had arrogated to himself the honour of
having saved Lilla's life, probably under the impression that we, being
strangers, were bound down the river, and would never again turn up to
contradict him.  What he had said, how much he had taken upon himself,
or how much had been laid upon him through the lying adulations of his
Indian servants, I do not know; but I was conscious of an intense look
of hatred and dislike--one that was returned by a glance of contempt
which made his teeth slightly grate together, though he tried to conceal
all by a snake-like smile as he recovered himself, and, seeking a way
out of his difficulty, exclaimed:

"The senor and I have met before: he helped me to save our woodland
flower from the river."

"Indeed! my dear Harry!" exclaimed my uncle, catching my disengaged hand
in his, while by an effort I dragged the other away from Garcia's cold
clutch, his eyes fixing mine the while, and seeming to say, "Be careful,
or I'll have your life!"--mine, if they could speak a language that he
could interpret, plainly saying, "You cowardly hound, you left her to
perish!"

"It was nothing on my part, Uncle," I said quietly.  "Nothing but what
any fellow from the old country would have done."

The next moment Mrs Landell, my new aunt, had thrown her arms round my
neck.  Formality of greeting was at an end, and, with tears in her eyes,
she thanked me and welcomed me to the hacienda.

I was longing for the scene to be at an end, for I was growing troubled
and confused, when once more the tell-tale blood swept into my face, as
I blushed like a great girl; for Lilla came up, and with the colour
mantling, too, in her pale cheeks, thanked me for what I had done.

It was some few minutes before I was sufficiently cool and collected to
have a good look at Garcia, when I found him to be a tall, well-shaped,
and swarthy young fellow, about five years my senior.  He was handsome,
but there was a sinister look about his dark eyes, and, in spite of his
effeminacy, his lithe limbs betokened great strength.  An instinctive
feeling of dislike, though, kept growing upon me, although there was a
pleasant smile, and a display of regular white teeth, which he turned
upon me every time he encountered my eyes, as he lounged about smoking a
cigar, whose fragrance betokened its origin.  He was easy of mien,
well-dressed, and evidently at home there; while by contrast I was
shabby, travel-stained, and awkward.

I disliked him at first, because I knew him to be a cur and a liar; but
soon--ay, before ten minutes had elapsed--I knew why my instinctive
dislike was increasing every moment we were together.  I learned why we
were to be enemies to the end; for after smoking some time in silence,
listening the while with smiling face to my uncle's questions concerning
home--questions which I answered clumsily, growing each moment more put
out and annoyed; for it seemed to me that Garcia's smiles were pitying,
and that he was comparing his grace with my awkwardness--he rose,
crossed over to Lilla, who was seated, took her hand in his as if it
belonged to him of right, raised it to his lips, and then, with a
smiling farewell to all present, he whispered a few words to my cousin,
gave me--his lips smiling the while--a sharp meaning look from between
his half-closed eyelids, and then his figure darkened for an instant the
sunshine streaming in at the door, and he was gone.



CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS.

"Well, lad," said my uncle, when, refreshed by a pleasant bath and a
glass or two of goodly wine with the meal spread for me, I sat with him
in the shaded room, my aunt--a pleasant, comely, Englishwoman--seated
with her daughter, working by one of the open windows--"well, lad,
people don't come a four or five thousand miles' journey on purpose to
pay visits.  What have you got in your eye?"

"Frankly, Uncle," I said, "I don't know.  I could not rest at home, and
felt that I must go abroad; and now I must say that I am glad of my
resolution."

I thought at first, as I was speaking, of the beautiful scenery, but in
the latter part of my speech I was looking towards Lilla, and for a
moment our eyes met.

My uncle shook his head as I finished speaking.

"Soap-boiling isn't a pleasant trade, Harry," he said; "but as the old
saying goes, `Dirty work brings clean money.'  There's always been a
comfortable home for you, hasn't there?"

"Yes, Uncle," I said impatiently.

"And plenty to eat, and drink, and wear?"

"Yes, Uncle."

"And your father kept you at good schools till you were seventeen or
eighteen?"

"Yes, Uncle."

"Then--it's plain speaking, but I must give it to you, Harry--you were a
young fool to leave it all.  You were like the dog with the shadow,
you've dropped a good mouthful of meat to grasp at nothing.  You'd have
done better sticking to the soap."

"I couldn't, Uncle," I exclaimed.

"Ah! that's what all you young donkeys say.  Only to think of it--
throwing up the chance of a good, sure trade!"

"But, my dear uncle, I was so unsuited for it, though I am ready enough
to work.  If you can give me employment, pray do so, for do not think I
have come to be a burden to you."

"My dear boy," he said gravely, "I don't think anything of the sort.
You are welcome here; and we owe you, it seems, the life of our dear
child, though what your share was in saving her I don't know.  Don't
think, though, that we are not glad to see you.  There," he said,
laughing, "there's your aunt ready again to throw her arms around your
neck, you see."

Mrs Landell had dropped her work and crossed over to lay her hand upon
my shoulder, while there was a tear--one bright, gem-like tear of
gratitude--sparkling in Lilla's eye as she looked up timidly from her
work, and that stupid young heart of mine gave a tremendous thump
against my chest.

There was a pause then for a few minutes, when, in a thick, husky voice,
I once more tried to speak.

"I'm sure," I said, "your welcome is warmer than I deserve; and indeed,
Uncle, I wish to be no burden to you.  If you would rather not employ
me, say so frankly; but perhaps you might, all the same, put me in the
way of getting on as you have done."

"As I have done!" he said laughing.  "I see, my dear boy, you look at
things with just the same eyes that I did when I came over years ago.
It's a lovely country, isn't it, Harry?"

"Glorious!"  I cried excitedly.

"Yes," he said sadly; "glorious as the gilded frame of a mirror, all
lustre and brightness, while underneath it is composition, and wood, and
ill-smelling glue.  Why, my dear boy, I am only living from hand to
mouth.  This looks, of course, all very bright and beautiful to you, and
a wonderful contrast to hazy, foggy, cold old England--Heaven bless it!
But fire-flies, and humming-birds, and golden sunshine, and
gaily-painted blossoms are not victuals and drink, Harry; and, besides,
when you set to and earn your victuals and drink, you don't know but
what they will all be taken away from you.  We've no laws here, my lad,
worth a rush.  We're a patriotic people here, with a great love of our
country--we Spanish, half-bred republican heroes," he said bitterly,
"and we love that country so well, Harry, that we are always murdering
and enriching it with the blood of its best men.  It might be a glorious
place, but man curses it, and we are always having republican struggles,
and bloodshed, and misery.  We are continually having new presidents,
here, my lad; and after being ruined three times, burned out twice, and
saving my life by the skin of my teeth, the bright flowers and great
green leaves seem to be powdered with ashes, and I'd gladly, any day,
change this beautiful place, with its rich plantations, for fifty acres
of land in one of the shires at home."

"But don't you take rather a gloomy view of it all, Uncle?"  I said, as
I looked at him curiously.

But to my great discomfiture he burst out laughing, for he had read my
thoughts exactly.

"My liver is as sound as yours, Harry, my boy," he said; "and I don't
believe that there's a heartier man within fifty miles.  No, my lad, I'm
not jaundiced.  There's no real prosperity here.  The people are a lazy,
loafing set, and never happy but when they are in hot water.  There's
the old, proud hidalgo blood mixed up in their veins; they are too grand
to work--too lazy to wash themselves.  There isn't a decent fellow in
the neighbourhood, except one, and his name is Garcia--eh, Lill?" he
said, laughing.

Lilla's face crimsoned as she bent over her work, while a few minutes
after she rose and whispered to Mrs Landell.

"You must excuse me, Harry," said my aunt, rising.  "Lilla is unwell;
the shock has been too much for her."

The next moment I was alone with my uncle, who proceeded in the same
bitter strain:

"Yes, my lad, commerce is all nohow here--everything's sluggish, and I
cannot see how matters are to mend.  I'm glad to see you--heartily glad
you have come.  Stay with us a few months if you are determined upon a
colonial life; see all you can of the country and judge for yourself;
but Heaven forbid that I should counsel my sister's child to settle in
such a revolutionary place!"

I was not long in finding out the truth of my uncle's words.  The place
was volcanic, and earthquakes of no uncommon occurrence; but Nature in
the soil was not one half as bad as Nature in the human race--Spanish
half-blood and Indian--with which she had peopled the region, for they
were, to a man, stuffed with explosive material, which the spark of some
speaker's language was always liable to explode.

But I was delighted with the climate, in spite of the heat; and during
the calm, cool evenings, when the moon was glancing through the trees,
bright, pure, and silvery, again and again I thought of how happy I
could be there but for one thing.

That one thing was not the nature of the people nor their revolutionary
outbursts, for I may as well own that commerce or property had little
hold upon my thoughts until I found how necessary the latter was for my
success.  My sole thought in those early days, and the one thing that
troubled me, was the constant presence of my uncle's wealthy neighbour,
Pablo Garcia.

It was plain enough that he had been for months past a visitor, and that
he had been looked upon as a suitor for Lilla's hand; but I could not
discover whether she favoured him or no, for after meeting him a few
times his very presence, with his calm, supercilious treatment of one
whom he evidently hated from the bottom of his soul, was so galling to
me, that upon his appearance I used to go out and ramble away for hours
together, seeking the wilder wooded parts, and the precipitous spurs of
the mountains, climbing higher and higher, till more than once in some
lonely spot I came upon some trace of a bygone civilisation--ruined
temple, or palace of grand proportions, but now overthrown and crumbling
into dust, with the dense vegetation of the region springing up around,
and in many places so covering it that it was only by accident that I
discovered, in the darkened twilight of the leafy shade, column or
mouldering wall, and then sat down to wonder and try and think out of
the histories of the past who were the people that had left these traces
of a former grandeur, and then over some carven stone light would spring
to my understanding--a light that brought with it a thrill of hope.
Then I would return, as night threatened to hide the track, back to my
uncle's, to be treated coldly, as I thought, by Lilla, while more than
once it seemed that my uncle gazed upon me in a troubled way.



CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

TOM SPEAKS HIS MIND.

A couple of months soon glided away--a time of mingled misery and
pleasure.  At one time I was light-hearted and happy, at another
low-spirited and depressed; for I could not see that there was the
slightest prospect of my hopes ever bearing fruit.  I was growing
nervous, too, about Garcia; not that I feared him, but his manner now
betokened that he bore me ill-will of the most intense character.

As for Lilla, the longer I was at the hacienda the more plain it became
that she feared him, shuddering at times when he approached--tokens of
dislike that made his eyes flash, and for which it was very evident that
he blamed me.

But his blame was unjust; he had credited me with having made known the
cowardly part he had played on the river; but though my uncle and aunt
were ignorant of it, the news reached Lilla's ears, the medium being Tom
Bulk.

Tom had settled down very comfortably at the hacienda, taking to smoking
and hanging about the plantation sheds, and doing a little here or there
as it pleased him, but none the less working very hard; and many a time
I had come across him glistening with perspiration as he tugged at some
heavy bag with all an Englishman's energy when all around were
sluggishly looking on.  He studiously avoided the woods, though, save
when he saw me off upon a ramble; and it was one day when I was standing
by Lilla's side at an open window, previous to taking a long walk, that
our attention was taken up by high words in the yard close at hand.

That Tom was one of the actors was plain enough, for his words came
loud, clear, and angry to where we stood; and it was evident that he was
taking the part of one of the Indian girls, who was weeping, probably
from blows inflicted by one of her countrymen, whose gallantry is not
proverbial.

"You red varmint," cried Tom fiercely, "I'll let you know what's what!
We don't strike women in our country--no, not even if they hit us."

Interested as I was, the recollection of a sharp slap I had heard at
home would come to my memory.

"And I tell you what, if you touch her again I'll make that face of
yours a prettier colour than it is now."

"Pray go and tell my father," whispered Lilla anxiously.  "Quarrels here
are very serious sometimes, and end in loss of life."

Crack!  There was the sound of a blow followed by a woman's shriek of
pain.

"Why, you cowardly hound!"  I heard Tom shout.  "You dare hit _her_,
then--you who sneaked off along with your grand Spanish Don when the
boat was upset, and left young miss to drown!  You're a brave one, you
are, and then you all go and take the credit, when it was my Mas'r Harry
who saved her.  Take that, you beggar, and that--and that!"

Tom's words were accompanied by the sounds of heavy blows; and on
leaping out of the window I came upon him, squaring away, and delivering
no meanly-planted blows upon the chests and faces of a couple of
Indians, while a woman crouched, trembling and weeping, and writhing
with pain, upon the ground.

"That's a settler for you anyhow!" said Tom, as he sent one of his
adversaries staggering back for a few yards, to fall heavily, when the
other retreated, but only for both to out with a knife each, and again
come forward to the attack.

But my appearance upon the scene stayed them, and they slunk scowling
away.

"I'll knock the wind out of some on 'em, Mas'r Harry, spite of their
knives," cried Tom excitedly.  "I'll let 'em know how an Englishman
serves them that knocks women about.  Hit her with a great thick stick,
he did--cuss him!  I'll let him know!"

"Be quiet, Tom!  Are you mad?"  I said, catching him by the collar, for
he was squaring away at the Indians, who were a couple of dozen yards
away.

"What did he go knocking her about for?  Yah!  Mas'r Harry, they're a
rotten lot out here, and the country's a thousand times too good for
them!"

By degrees I got Tom cooled down, and into the house, and on returning I
found Lilla standing watching for me at the window, but only to gaze at
me with a strange, troubled look, half pain, half pleasure, and before I
could speak she had fled.

But an hour had not passed before I came upon her again, speaking
anxiously to Tom.  They did not see me approach, and as I was close up I
was just in time to hear Tom exclaim:

"But he did, Miss, and stuck to you when all the rest had got ashore--
the Don and all."

Lilla gave a faint shriek as I spoke; and then darting at me a look of
reproach, she hurried away, leaving me excited and troubled; for she had
learned a secret that I had intended should not come to her ears.

"How dare you go chattering about like that?"  I cried fiercely to Tom,
for I was anxious to have some one to blame.

"Don't care, Mas'r Harry," he said sulkily.  "Miss Lilla asked me, and I
never told her only the truth.  They are a cowardly set of hounds, the
whole lot of 'em; and I'll take any couple of 'em, one down and t'other
come on, with a hand tied behind me."

"We shall have to go, Tom," I said bitterly.  "What with your brawls and
the mischief you have made, this will be no place for us."

I spoke with gloomy forebodings in my mind, for I could not but think
that trouble was to be our lot.  Poor and without prospects, and with a
rich and favoured rival, what was I to hope for?  Indeed I felt ready to
despair.

"Say, Mas'r Harry," said Tom penitently, "'tain't so bad as that, is
it?"

"Bad!  Yes, Tom," I said gloomily, and I turned and left him.

It was a day or two after.  I had only seen Lilla at meals, to find her
shy and _distraite_.  She hardly seemed to notice me, but I had the
satisfaction of seeing that Garcia fared no better.

But he smiled pleasantly, evidently to conceal the rage that burned
within him, and more than once there was a hateful glare in his eye that
evidently boded no good to those who crossed his path; and it seemed as
if I had not only crossed his path, but now stood right in his way.

We had just finished the mid-day meal.  Garcia had been with us, and on
Lilla rising he had followed her to the door; but she had turned from
him with a look of contempt, when, white with passion, he had been
unable to control himself, but dashed out of the place, muttering
fiercely.

My uncle had seen all, and his countenance lowered, but for a while he
did not speak.  He walked to a closet, took out a cigar, and sat smoking
till Mrs Landell had left the room, when, beckoning me to him, he
pointed to a chair, and then, as soon as I was seated, he gave utterance
to what was in his mind.

"Harry, my lad," he said, "I am a plain, straightforward fellow, and I
like frankness.  I'm going now to speak very plainly to you, for I'm not
blind.  You've taken a fancy to little Lill."

I rose, holding by the back of my chair, blushed, blundered, and then
stood without a word.

"I see I am right," he said coolly.  "But look here, Hal.  I can't call
to mind a single dishonourable act committed by a member of either of
the families from which you sprang.  Now listen to me: have you ever
said a word--you know what I mean--to Lilla?"

"Oh, no, Uncle!"  I exclaimed warmly.

"Quite right, my lad--quite right, for it would not do.  You see, Hal,
she has money in her own right, and you are not worth twopence.  The
girl is in my care.  I hold her from her relations, as it were, in
trust; and it seems to me that it would be like taking advantage of my
position if I encouraged anything between her and a poor relative of my
own.  You'll have to go away, Harry, unless you can make me a promise,
and keep to it."

"What am I to promise?"  I said gloomily; for he had ceased speaking;
and I began to realise what going away meant.  "What am I to promise?"
I said again.

"Promise me, as a man of honour, that you will not in any way take
advantage of your position here."

"Is it likely," I said bitterly, "when I am not worth twopence, and
there is some one else in the field?"

"Don't be spiteful, lad, because things don't go as you wish.  We all
have to bear crosses in our time.  But, as you say, there's some one
else in the field.  Garcia is an old lover, and I am under obligations
to him.  You must not in any way cross his path, Hal, for he is rich,
and possesses a good deal of power over the Indians about here.  I
should say, Hal, that in this lawless country that man's life would not
be safe who stood between him and his wishes.  Don't offend him, Hal--
don't offend him, Hal.  He's a good fellow, but, like all those
half-bloods, very susceptible."

"I'll promise you anything you like," I said gloomily, "but don't send
me away.  Let me stay and do something so as not to be an encumbrance to
you, but don't send me away."

"No one wants to send you away, Hal," said my uncle kindly.  "Look about
you and see the country; shoot and fish a little, too.  I need not say,
beware of the caymen--the river swarms with them.  See all you can of
the place, and then you'll have to try somewhere else.  Texas or one of
the States--those are the places for a young fellow like you."

I sighed to myself, for it seemed to me now that there was no place on
earth bearable but the one where Lilla dwelt; and then, clapping me on
the shoulder, my uncle rose and went out.

I followed him at the end of a few minutes; and, so as to be alone, I
wandered away from the house and heedlessly took one of the paths that
led down to the river bank.



CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

UNDER FASCINATION.

It was very hot, but I did not notice it as I walked slowly and
thoughtfully on.  The sun was kept from beating down upon me by the
dense foliage, but there was a steamy heat arising that at another time
I should have felt oppressive.  The country was so completely in a state
of nature all around that half a mile from the hacienda one almost
seemed to be traversing places where the foot of man had never trod.
But nothing seemed then to take my attention, for I was forcing myself
to remember that I was to think no more about Lilla; and at last I had
worked myself round to believe that I should respect the promise given
to my uncle, while I devoted myself to a project that had fixed itself
in my mind--a project full of romance and imagination, one that might
make me wealthy--in a position wherein I could laugh at Garcia's
pretensions and boldly ask my uncle's consent, for I was hopeful of
obtaining Lilla's.  I was poor now, but need not remain so.  Suppose by
one grand stroke I could possess myself of the riches of a prince--how
then?

The thought of it all was so exciting that I strode on, rapt in the
golden vision, till reason pointed out two obstacles: I might not
succeed; and even if I did succeed, I might be too late and find that
Garcia had won the prize we both had coveted.

"I'll try, though," I muttered.

And then I laughed bitterly as I thought of my uncle's warning.  I was
not afraid of Garcia, for he was at heart, I knew, a coward; but until I
was in a position to come forward I felt sadly that my duty was to avoid
Lilla--to leave all to the future; for, with the chances of failure so
strongly opposed to me, it would not have been fair to have asked her to
wait for what might never come to pass; and then, with the recollection
of my beggarly position taunting me, I told myself bitterly that I might
as well go back home and turn soap-boiler, and not stay out there
indulging in golden dreams.

It was a scene almost of enchantment where I stood musing, but the
beauties around had no charms for me.  I was too much engrossed with the
thoughts of old readings respecting the region in which I then was.  I
was recalling its history and the assertions of old writers respecting
its wealth in gems and the precious metals.  I did not see that now and
then a timid deer had gazed at me for a moment and then bounded away
through the brake; neither that again and again a deadly cascabel had
glided, worm-like, almost from beneath my feet, uttering a low, ominous
hiss as it wriggled away through the tall grass.  Gorgeously-painted
butterflies, grand in size, fluttered before me, to settle here and
there upon some blossom bright as themselves, and then flit away again
through the shadowy, golden-rayed forest arcades.  Gem-like
humming-birds darted here and there, while hardly less bright parroquets
of many a hue shrieked, whistled, and climbed in restless fashion
around.  Once there was a heavy, scuffling noise, and a small alligator
dashed away towards a creek; but I could see nothing but gold--gold that
should make me rich and win for me Lilla's love--a love that I dared to
hope was mine already, even though I was but a beggarly adventurer.

Gold--always gold--everything was gilded; and through the golden haze
that seemed to glow around me I saw a golden future of brightness, and
happiness, and love.  I grew more and more excited with the thoughts
that pressed upon me, and at last, with a sensation of triumph, I
exclaimed aloud:

"History shall be my divining-rod and the earth shall yield up her
treasures!  I shall not be the first adventurer to the golden mines who
has brought home treasures; only that, if I win, I shall also gain a
treasure greater far than those of old, for Lilla will also be my
prize."

This was the kind of mental stilt-talking I indulged in that day, seeing
only the golden side.  No doubt it seems very romantic and silly to the
reader; but I have known young men, taken badly with that distemper
called first love, just as romantic and excitable.  In fact, many of us
as we grow older recall our sensations, acts, and deeds, felt and
performed during that strange delirium, with something like a smile upon
our lips, though at the time every reader will agree with me I was
somewhat of a goose.

I was romantic enough, and could only see the golden side; but there was
a future before me such as I could not dream of--a reverse, terrible,
thrilling, and enough, could I have penetrated the unknown, to have made
me turn shuddering away, daring not, for the sake of others, to
prosecute searches whose results would have been too terrible to
contemplate.

Rousing myself from my reverie, with my mind fully made up as to my
future proceedings, I looked round, to find that I was but a very short
distance from the hacienda, in a beautiful part of the forest that my
uncle had as yet spared, but which he talked of, before long, clearing
and adding to the plantation which it bounded.

I walked on for a dozen yards, parting the undergrowth as I went,
walking cautiously now, for I had suddenly awakened to the fact that
there might be danger in every bush or tuft of luxuriant, reedy grass;
but there was, I knew, a beaten track a little farther on which led to
the plantation, through which I meant to return.

And then, fifty yards through the dense vegetation, I came upon a
creek--a mere ditch--leading to the river, half full of marshy growth,
when, walking back a few yards for impetus, I ran from the bank, and was
in the act of leaping the creek when every nerve seemed to thrill with a
horrible sense of chilling dread, as beneath my feet there was a rushing
rustling noise, mingled with the splashing of mud and water, the reedy
grass bent and waved in different directions, and, though invisible to
me, it was evident that some hideous beast--reptile, or whether serpent
or cayman I could not tell--was retreating towards the river, perhaps
only to turn upon me the next moment.

The danger was not visible; but unseen perils are sometimes more
dreadful than those we meet face to face, when the imagination does not
magnify the horror.

At any rate, with my heart beating heavily I alighted amongst the grass
on the other side, dashed on, and a few minutes after was in the track,
down which I turned, but only to stop spell-bound the next minute, as I
reached a flowery opening across which lay the decaying huge trunk of a
large fallen tree.

The place was a dense thicket all around of bright-hued blossoms, with
their attendant train of bird and gorgeous insect.  Huge trees threw
their sheltering arms across, to break up the sun's rays into golden
showers, which flecked and danced upon every verdant spot; but the great
beauty of the scene which held me there was the sight of Lilla seated
upon the fallen trunk, her little straw hat hanging from one
muslin-covered arm by the knotted strings, and a little basket filled to
overflowing with bright-hued flowers fallen at her feet.

I could not move nor speak for a few minutes, and then I was hesitating
as to what I should do: avoid every meeting such as this out of respect
to my promise, or warn her that but a short distance back I had come
upon some hidden danger.

"She will laugh at me," I thought.  "She is so used to hear of the
forest inhabitants; and besides, after all, I did not see anything; it
may only have been some timid animal escaping.  I will go back another
way."

In spite of myself a sigh escaped me as I gazed at the graceful form;
and then, as I leaned forward it seemed to me that her attitude was
unnatural and strained--that she was gazing intently upwards, as if at
something a short distance above her head.  I took a step forward--
another and another, but she did not move; when, following the direction
of her gaze, I found her eyes were fixed with a strange fascination at
the great bough above her--a huge gnarled and knotted bough, with here
and there a tuft of foliage upon it, while its great thick bark was
tinted and shady with rich brown and umber mosses, and--

"Good heavens!"  I ejaculated, and then I was speechless.  A sense of
horror was constricting my heart.  I was, as it were, fixed to the
ground where I stood, hardly able to breathe, for as I had gazed at the
rich marking on the great knotted limb a strange shuddering vibration
had passed through it--it was in motion for many feet along its thickest
part, and the umber markings glistened; for they were upon the scaly
skin of a huge serpent, lying in many a fold and convolution upon the
mighty bough.

What did it mean--what was going to happen?

I could not tell; but a deadly sickness came over me--a cold clammy
perspiration bedewed my limbs.  I could only see as through a mist, but
plainly enough I could make out that fold was gliding over fold in a
horrible lacing and enlacing of gigantic knots, till slowly the
reptile's head was thrust forward, with a gentle waving motion, rising
from amidst a tuft of leaves; and then, as the gliding of the folds
continued, the head descended in a slow, waving, swinging fashion, foot
after foot nearer and nearer to Lilla, a forked tongue flashing and
playing about the frightful jaws, and the hideous eyes fascinating the
poor girl, so that I saw her gradually moving towards it.

Slowly, and ever rising and falling, the huge serpent's head was lowered
foot after foot of its vast length while fold after fold was gliding
over the bough, and all this while I stood fixed to the earth as in the
nightmare of a horrible dream.



CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

WHAT FOLLOWED THE ESCAPE.

I said at the end of the last chapter that it was like being in the
nightmare of some horrible dream.  I repeat that assertion; for as I
recall my sensations I see again the horrible swaying head playing
gently up and down, nearer and nearer, the sun glistening on the
burnished coils, while others were hidden, to have their presence
revealed by the quivering of twig and trembling of leaf, as they passed
fold over fold, the monstrous reptile playing, as it were, with its
victim, and approaching in a slow leisurely manner; but it was with the
sense that in an instant it could fling itself upon its prey with the
speed, force, and certainty of a well-cast lasso.  It was the play of
the cat tribe with prey; for I knew the mighty strength and elasticity
of the coils--how they could dart, plunge, and then be rolled one upon
the other round a helpless body in a hideous knot--how the knot would
tighten till bones cracked and splintered, and the victim was reduced to
a shapeless mass, ready to receive the horrible saliva of the monster
previous to deglutition.

I could only stand with tottering knees, parted lips, staring eyes, and
painfully drawn breath, longing to engage in the unequal fight, or to,
at least, make some noise to divert the horrible beast; but my mouth and
throat were dry--I could not utter a sound.  I was numbed in body, but
the mental anguish was fearful, for all activity seemed to have fled to
the seat of thought and in imagination I saw all that was to follow.

And all this time--a time whose duration seemed to me hours--Lilla did
not move.  At first, while being drawn under the loathsome reptile's
fascination, she had gradually leaned towards it, till, fixed of eye,
she had stopped perfectly motionless, as inch after inch her intended
murderer approached.

I would gladly have closed my eyes, but I could not, any more than I
could afford help.  And now, unwilling witness that I was, I saw that
the moment of extreme horror was approaching, for the serpent had drawn
its folds on to a portion of the branch free from foliage; the coils
were bent as if ready for a spring, the head was drawn back, the jaws
distended; and at last I gave utterance to a hoarse cry and sprang
forward, the spell that had held me was broken, and the next instant
Lilla was in my arms, just as I heard a rustle; then there was a rush,
and I was dashed violently to the ground.

But there were no coils round either of us, lashing us in a horrible
embrace--no fangs were fixed in my shoulder; but lashing, darting, and
whipping itself, as it were, in every direction, beating down tall grass
and bushy growth, its horrible eyes flashing with pain and rage, the
serpent was close at hand, while the next instant its coils were wrapt
round a large jaguar, whose teeth and claws were fixed in the thickest
part of the reptile, the creature holding on with all its might, at the
same time that, cat-like in its every act, it tore and ripped away at
its enemy's body with the great talons of its hinder paws.

There was a fierce, savage, worrying growl, the snapping and rustling of
tree and shrub, the lashing about of the serpent's body, as, now coiled
round its assailant, now forced by agony to unwind, the two terrors of
the South American forest continued their struggle.  Now they were
half-hidden by the undergrowth, whose disturbance only showed the
changes in the savage warfare; now they struggled into sight, and it was
very evident that the serpent was being worsted in the encounter, the
jaguar having in the first strokes of its powerfully-armed hind paws
inflicted terrible wounds, which incapacitated the reptile from using
its potent weapon--the crushing power of its folds.

For a few minutes I could hardly believe in our escape from so horrible
a peril; but, so far, we were undoubtedly safe, the tide of war now
beginning, indeed, to roll away, it being evident that the jaguar was
thoroughly worsting its enemy.  At last I saw the huge tail of the
serpent rise above the long grass, to vibrate and quiver in the air,
twisting as if the horrible beast were in extreme agony; then it
disappeared, and I prepared to try and bear Lilla away, for it was plain
that the long-continued struggle was bringing the combatants back
towards where we crouched.

But they only came near enough for me to catch, amidst the rapid
evolutions, two or three glimpses of the jaguar's glistening, spotted
coat, as he clung, still apparently unharmed, to his long lithe
adversary, whose head was darting here, there, everywhere, in search of
an avenue for escape.  Then, again, came a series of writhing
contortions, as the serpent twined itself in its agony round the
quadruped; and over and over, with the foliage crackling and snapping,
they rolled, but ever now farther and farther away, till it was with a
feeling of extreme thankfulness that I knelt there, holding the fainting
girl in my arms, gazing eagerly in her pale face, and thinking of the
fearful fate she had escaped.

Her eyes unclosed the next moment, to gaze in mine with a wild horrified
aspect, till, awaking fully to the fact that she was saved, she flung
her arms tightly round my neck, clinging to me, and then buried her
face, sobbing vehemently, in my bosom.

Lilla had just raised her blushing face to mine, as she tried now,
feebly, to free herself from my protecting arms; and then I started
angrily up, for from close behind came the words:

"Say, Mas'r Harry, is that there the custom of the country?"

"You impertinent dog, how dare you?"  I exclaimed angrily.  "What do you
mean by spying there, and then asking such a question?"

"Only wanted to know, Mas'r Harry; because if it is the custom it's all
right; if it ain't the custom it's all wrong, and Master Landell and the
Don, who are close behind, might think it queer."

"We've just had a narrow escape from a most horrible death, Tom," I
exclaimed hastily.  "Thank you for your warning."

The next moment voices were audible.  There was the rustling of the
foliage, and as Lilla stood pale and leaning heavily upon my arm, my
uncle and Garcia came hastily into sight.



CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

TROPHIES.

I have seen some villainous-looking countenances in my time, but none
more abhorrent of aspect than was that of Pablo Garcia, as, distorted
with rage, he started on seeing Lilla resting half supported by me.  The
handsome regularity of his features seemed then to have the effect of
making the distortion more striking.  There was an angry frown, too,
upon my uncle's face as he strode up; and, almost roughly taking Lilla
from me, he exclaimed hoarsely:

"Harry, after what I said I did not expect this."

"It was quite by accident we met, Uncle.  Lilla has had a terrible
shock," I exclaimed hastily.  "A hideous serpent--terrible conflict--"

I stopped short, for there was a sneering grin of disbelief on Garcia's
countenance, which made me want to dash my fist in his face, as he said:

"Very terrible conflict--a very dragon attacking the maiden, and this
new Saint George of England coming to her rescue.  I don't see any blood
about."

"I should like to make some come from his nose," muttered Tom.

"What has happened?" said my uncle frowning; for he did not seem to like
Garcia's allusion.

Lilla spoke in faint trembling tones:

"I was resting after gathering those flowers, when a rustling overhead
took my attention, and--ah!--"

She shuddered, turned pale, and covered her face with her hands, quite
unable to proceed; when my uncle turned to me, and I explained what I
had seen, in proof of which I turned to the beaten-down foliage, upon
which lay thickly, in spite of Garcia's words, fast-drying spots and
gouts of blood, which we traced right down to the river's bank, in a
dense bed of reeds, where they ceased, and it was not thought advisable
to search farther.

"Let us get back, my child," said my uncle tenderly to Lilla.  "You must
come alone into the woods no more."

There was a troubled and meaning tone in my uncle's words, and more than
once I caught his eye directed at me.  But directly after he moved off
towards the hacienda, closely followed by Garcia, while I hung back
undecided how to act; for I was suffering from a troubled conscience, as
I thought of the promise I had so lately given.

My reverie was interrupted by Tom, who had been standing unnoticed.

"Did you see Muster Garshar, Mas'r Harry," said Tom; "how he showed you
the whole of his teeth, just like a mad dog going to bite?"

"No, Tom; I did not take particular notice of him," I said.

"Well, I did, Mas'r Harry," said Tom; "and if you take my advice you'll
look out; for they're a rum lot here, as you know.  They don't hit with
the fist, only when that there fist has got an ugly-looking knife in it,
sharp as a razor; and when they hit a poor fellow with it, and he dies
afterwards, they don't call it murder--they call it fighting--a set of
uncultivated, ignorant savages!  I only wish I had the teaching of them!
But look here, Mas'r Harry, you'll take care, won't you?"

"Why, Tom?"  I said dreamily.

"Why, Mas'r Harry?  Why? because Muster Garshar don't like you--not a
bit.  That's all."

I shrugged my shoulders.

"Ah! you may hyste your shoulders till you skretches your ears with
them, Mas'r Harry; but that don't make no better of it.  I promised your
mother as I'd take care of you and stick to you; but how am I to do that
if you get yourself spoiled somehow or other?  But, say, Mas'r Harry,
was it such a werry big un?"

"Was what a very big one?"  I said wonderingly.

"Why, the sarpint--it might have been a sea-sarpint, for nobody seemed
to believe in it."

"Yes," I said moodily, "an enormous beast."

"And he got it pretty hot from the tiger thing?"

"You saw the blood about, and now hold your tongue."

"But I ain't done yet, Mas'r Harry," said Tom eagerly.  "That there Don
wouldn't believe in it, and we knowed that it went into that brake.
What do you say to going up to the house, getting the guns, and then
shooting the beast and skinning him; so as to show them that English
lads don't go bouncing and swelling about without they've got something
to bounce and swell about?"

There was something in Tom's project that interested me, and I turned to
him with eagerness.  Adventure--something to prove that I had been no
boaster, something to divert the current of my thoughts; it was the very
thing, but I said gloomily the next minute:

"We should be too late, Tom; the beast must have taken to the river."

"All wounded beasts make to the water, Mas'r Harry," said Tom; "but we
don't know that we should be too late.  What I say is--Let's try."

"Come along then," I cried.

We walked up to the hacienda, encountering Garcia on the portal, ready
to bestow upon us both a sneering grin as we again issued forth, each
carrying a double gun loaded with buck-shot.

I don't think we, either of us, stopped to consider whether it was
prudent to run the risk before us, with a very problematic chance of
success; but hurrying back regardless of the sun, we soon stood once
more by the fallen tree, and began to follow the beaten track left by
the contending enemies till we reached the great brake by the
river-side, when for the first time we turned and looked at each other.

"Oh! it's all right, Mas'r Harry," said Tom; "and if he's in here we'll
soon rouse him out."  For it was evident that he had interpreted the
doubt that had found a home in my mind.

"You think it will be here still?"  I said.

"Sartain, Mas'r Harry; and--hist! don't speak above a whisper.  He's in
there, sure enough; for look yonder at those monkeys, they ain't
chattering and swinging about there for nothing."

In effect a family of monkeys were aloft howling and making a deafening
din, and I could not help thinking with Tom that it meant the presence
of enemies.

"Look out!"  I shouted the next minute to Tom; for a huge crocodile that
we had passed unseen, sleeping amongst the dank herbage, had apparently
awakened to the belief that we were trying to cut off its retreat and
charging down straight at Tom in order to reach the river, it was only
by a grand display of activity that might have been learned of the
monkeys above us that he avoided the onslaught, and the next minute the
hideous reptile had disappeared from sight; but we could hear its
rustling onward progress, followed by a heavy splash, one or two ominous
growls, and the increased activity of the monkeys, showing that our
ideas with respect to these latter were not without basis.

"I tell you what, Mas'r Harry," said Tom, as he stood mopping the
perspiration from his face, "them ugly beasts have got a spite against
me, I know they have; and if I'm lost, mind this, I'm swallowed down by
one of them crocks, I know I am, so mind that; and if you do go home
without me tell Sally Smith that I was swallowed by a crockeydile, and
all for love of she.  Now, Mas'r Harry, I'm ready if you are?  Let's
both keep together, tread softly, and take good steady aim before we
fire; for this ain't like putting a handful of oats in the snow in our
yard and then shooting at cock-sparrers.  If we hit what we've come
after, mind 'twill be something to put in the bag!"

I was now as excited as Tom, and together we stepped slowly on through
the dense brake, parting the heavy growth with the barrels of our guns
as we trod lightly over the swampy ground, which sent up a hot,
stifling, steamy exhalation.

Yard after yard we pressed on, watchful ever; but though the track was
plain enough, the elastic water grasses had sprung back so as to
thoroughly impede our view, and we knew that at any moment we might be
ready to plant our feet upon the wounded monster that we sought.

Twice over little alligators went scuttling from beneath our feet, at
the last time drawing forth an ejaculation from Tom, and then we stopped
short with our guns at our shoulders; for Tom's utterance was followed
by a warning shriek from the monkeys, and then, as that ceased, came a
low, fierce, snarling growl from apparently just in front.

"What shall we do?"  I thought.

For a moment I felt disposed to try and get round some other way, but
the slightest movement now was sufficient to bring forth a growl from
our invisible enemy; and it was very plain that we had tracked the
jaguar to his lair while the boa had escaped.

To have retreated would have been to bring it down upon us; so after a
glance at Tom's resolute face I made a sign and we took a step in
advance.

Only one; we had time for no more, for with a savage yell the jaguar
bounded right at Tom from the opening; we just obtained a glimpse of it,
and it was like firing at a streak of something brown passing rapidly
through the air, but fire I did, both barrels almost simultaneously; and
the next moment Tom was knocked down and the jaguar had disappeared
amongst the reeds we had but just passed.

"Are you hurt, Tom?"  I cried anxiously, as I stooped to secure his
undischarged gun.

"Hurt!" he exclaimed angrily; "of course I am!  Just as if you could
have one of them great cats fly at you and knock you over without being
hurt!  But I ain't killed, Mas'r Harry," he said, rising and shaking
himself.  "`Them as is born to be hanged won't never be drowned,' and
them as is born to be swallowed by crocks won't never be torn to pieces
by wild cats.  Look out, Mas'r Harry!  Give it him again!"

At that moment, snarling and lashing its tail from side to side as it
showed us its white teeth, the jaguar now crept back, cat-like, on its
belly, as if about to spring, when, with the best aim I could, I gave it
both barrels of Tom's gun, and with a convulsive bound the brute rolled
over, dead.

"That's hotter than the country, Mas'r Harry!" said Tom.  "But we killed
him, anyhow; so load up.  But, my!  Mas'r Harry, what a beauty!  And did
you see when he showed his teeth?--he was the very image of the Don!"

I did not reply to Tom's remarks; but as I reloaded I could not help
admiring the glossy, spotted coat of the great beast I had just slain--a
brute whose activity and power must have been immense.

But we had not performed the task we had come to complete.  This was
something upon which I had not counted; and now, though quite satisfied
in my own mind that the serpent had escaped, we left our conquered
assailant and once more began cautiously to pursue the track with guns
pointed in advance, but without the expectation of a fresh assault,
when, as if determined to be first this time, Tom suddenly fired at an
upraised, threatening head, and it fell upon the monstrous, helpless,
writhing coils of the immense serpent.

For it was evident that here the reptile had become too exhausted to
continue its retreat, and Tom had administered the _coup de grace_.

It was almost an unnecessary shot, for the jaguar had terribly mangled
the serpent, which was half-torn and bitten through in one place where
it had been first seized; but even now I felt a strong desire to fire
again, as I saw a hideous coil rise slowly and then fall motionless,
while for the first time the monstrous proportions of the creature
became apparent.

"Don't stir, Mas'r Harry!" cried Tom triumphantly.  "Keep watch over
'em, or some one else will swear as he did it.  I'll be back in less
than half an hour."

Then, before I could utter a word of remonstrance, Tom had dashed off,
leaving me to my loathsome wardership.  But not for long; he was soon
back with four Indians, giving his orders lustily, and we stood and
looked on while they skinned the trophies.

"Perhaps they'll believe you now, Mas'r Harry," said Tom.  "We'll take
the skins up in triumph--that we will!  But who'd ever have thought of
my coming out here to shoot adders a hundred foot long?"

"Say five hundred, Tom," I said laughing.

"Well, ain't he, Mas'r Harry?" cried Tom innocently.

For from the effect of his elation it is probable that his eyes
magnified, though, upon the skin being stretched out and measured, it
proved to be exactly twenty feet three inches in length, while the
reptile's girth was greater than the thigh of a stout, well-built man.

But at last, with our trophies borne in front, we made our way back to
the hacienda, the Indians shouting, and the whole of the workpeople
turning out to welcome us.  But though my uncle expressed pleasure, and
took the first opportunity of telling me that he had never for an
instant doubted my word, it was plain enough that he was constrained in
his manner; while as to Pablo Garcia, I believe that a blow would not
have given him greater offence than did this proof which I forced upon
him of the truth of my assertions.



CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

GOLDEN DREAMS.

I saw Lilla but once alone, and then the encounter was not of my
seeking.  She came up to me, though, with a sweet, sad expression in her
face and a trusting look in her eyes that made my heart bound, as she
laid her hands in mine and thanked me for what she called my gallantry;
and I was so taken up by her words that I hardly noticed the scowl
Garcia gave as he came in.  In fact, just then my heart felt so large
that in my joy I could have shaken hands with him so warmly that I
should have made the bones of that fishy fin of his crack again.

But there was no handshaking: Garcia walking to the window and lighting
a cigar, while Lilla hurried from the room, as was now her custom when
Garcia came.

The first flush of joy passed and I was alone with the half-breed, to
feel how impossible any friendly feeling was between us; and seeing that
he was disposed to do nothing but stare at me in a half-sneering,
half-scowling fashion, I strolled out, paying no heed to the burning sun
as I made for the woods, where the trees screened me; and then on and on
I went, mile after mile, through the hot steamy twilight, amidst giants
of vegetation hoary with moss.  Beast or reptile, harmless or noxious,
troubled me little now, for I was in pursuit of the golden idol of my
thoughts, winning it from its concealment, and then, with everything
around gilded by its lustre, living in a future that was all happiness
and joy.

But I was not always dreaming.  At times I searched eagerly in places
that I thought likely to be the homes of buried Peruvian treasure;
without avail, though, for I had no guide--nothing but tradition and the
misty phantoms of bygone readings.

To the people at the hacienda my wanderings must have seemed absurd, for
though I took my gun I never brought anything back.  This day game was
in abundance, but I did not heed it--only wandered on till I came to a
rugged part of the forest far up the mountain-side, and seated myself on
a lump of moss-grown rock in a gloomy, shady spot, tired and discouraged
by the thought that I was pursuing a phantom.

What should I do, then?  I asked myself.  Go, as my uncle advised, to
Texas?  That meant separation; and yet I knew that I could not stay,
and, in spite of all my golden hopes, the future looked very black to
me.  I kept putting it off, but it would come.  I must look the
difficulty in the face--the end must arrive; and I laughed bitterly as I
thought of my prospect--even if such treasures as I had heard of did
exist--of finding either of them in the vast wilds spread for hundreds
of miles around.

My meditations were interrupted by the sharp crackle made by a dry twig
trampled upon by a foot; there was a rustling noise close behind me, and
as I turned I became aware of a face peering out at me from a dense bank
of creepers, as a voice whispered:

"Is your gun loaded, Mas'r Harry?"

"You here, Tom!"  I exclaimed.

"Course I am!" said Tom indignantly.  "What else did I come out here for
if it wasn't to take care of you?  And a nice game you're carrying on--
playing bo-peep with a fellow!  Here you are one minute, and I says to
myself, `He won't go out this morning.'  Next moment I look round, and
you're gone!  But this here sort of thing won't do, sir!  If you're
going on like this I shall give notice to leave, or else I shall never
get back alive."

"Why not?"  I said, laughing at his anxious face.

"'Cause of these here rambling ways of yours, sir."

"And if I take care, pray what danger is there in them, Tom?"

"Care--care!" echoed Tom.  "Why, that's what you don't take, sir.  I'm
`Care,' and you leave me at home.  You don't say, `Come and look after
me, Tom,' but go on trusting to yourself, while all the time you're like
some one in a dream."

"But what is there to be afraid of, Tom?"

"Sarpints, sir!"

"Pooh, Tom!  We can shoot them, eh?--even if they are a hundred feet
long!  Well, what else?"

Tom grinned before he spoke.

"Jaggers, sir!"

"Seldom out except of a night, Tom."

"Fevers, sir!"

"Only in the low river-side parts, Tom.  We're hundreds of feet above
the river here."

"Snakes in the grass, sir!"

"Pooh, Tom!  They always glide off when they hear one coming."

"Not my sort, Mas'r Harry," said Tom in an anxious whisper.  "They're a
dangerous sort, with a kind of captain, and he's a half-breed.  If you
will have it, and won't listen to reason, you must.  Mas'r Harry,
there's snakes in the grass--Indian-looking chaps who watch your every
step, sir.  You haven't thought it; but I've always been on the
look-out, and as they've watched you, I've watched them.  But they got
behind me to-day, Mas'r Harry, and saw me; and I don't know what to
think--whether Muster Garcia has sent 'em, or whether they think you are
looking for anything of theirs.  You don't think it, Mas'r Harry, but at
this very minute they're busy at work watching us."

I started slightly at one of his remarks, but passed it off lightly.

"Pooh, Tom!"  I said.  "Who's dreaming now?"

"Not me, Mas'r Harry.  I was never so wide awake in my life.  I tell
you, sir, I've seen you poking and stirring up amongst the sticks and
stones in all sorts of places, just as if you was looking for some old
woman's buried crock of crooked sixpences; and as soon as you've been
gone these Indian chaps have come and looked, and stroked all the leaves
and moss straight again.  You're after something, Mas'r Harry, and
they're after something; but I can't quite see through any of you yet.
Wants a good, stout, double-wicked six held the other side, and then I
could read you both like a book."

"Nonsense, Tom--nonsense!"  I cried; though I felt troubled, and a vague
sense of uneasiness seemed to come over me.

"P'r'aps it is nonsense, Mas'r Harry--perhaps it ain't.  But this here
ain't Old England; so don't you get thinking as there's a policeman
round every corner to come and help you, because there ain't, no more
than there's a public-house round the corner to get half a pint when a
fellow's tongue's dried up to his roof.  So now let's understand one
another, Mas'r Harry.  You've got to keep close up to the house."

"Nonsense!"  I exclaimed.  "What good would that do?  Look here, Tom, my
good fellow: I know you are faithful and true-hearted, but you have been
following me about till you have found a mare's nest and seen an enemy
in every Indian.  You must learn to keep your place, Tom, and not to
interfere."

Tom did not answer--he only looked sulky.  Then, spitting in his hands,
he rubbed them together, crawled out of the bush, stood up, let his gun
fall into the hollow of his arm, and then thrusting his hands into his
pockets, stood looking at me, as if prepared for the worst.

"Going any farther, Mas'r Harry?" he said as I rose.

"Yes," I said, "I'm going up this gorge."

Then with Tom closely following, I climbed on till we were in a vast
rift, whose sides were one mass of beautiful verdure spangled with
bright blossoms.  High overhead, towering up and up, were the mountains,
whose snow-capped summits glistened and flashed in the sun, while the
ridges and ravines were either glittering and gorgeous or shadowy and of
a deep, rich purple, fading into the blackness of night.

I stopped gazing around at the platform above platform of rock rising
above me, and thought of what a magnificent site one of the flat
table-lands would make for a town, little thinking that once a rich city
had flourished there.  Even Tom seemed attracted by the beauty of the
scene, for he stood gazing about till, seeing my intent, he came close
behind me again, and together, with the traveller's love of treading the
fresh and untried soil, we pressed on, climbing over loose fragments of
rock, peering into the stream that bubbled musically down the bottom of
the gorge, wending our way through the high growth of long tangled
grass, till the gorge seemed to plunge into darkness, a huge eminence
blocking the way, in whose face appeared a low, broad archway, forming
the entrance to a tunnel, leading who could tell where?

Any attempt to follow another track was vain, as I soon perceived; for,
as I saw, the gorge seemed to be continued beneath the archway, while
right and left the rock was precipitous beyond the possibility of
climbing even to the shelves, where ancient trees had securely rooted
themselves in the sparse soil, to hang over and lend their gloom to the
sombre scene.

But in spite of its mystery there was a something attractive in the vast
cavern, from which it now became evident the little river sprang; for it
ran trickling out beneath the rocks we clambered over, till we stood
gazing in towards the shadowy depth, listening to strange echoes of a
murmuring rising and falling sound that dominated all the faint whispers
that escaped, as it were, from time to time to the light of day.

"What do you think of this, Tom?"  I said, after vainly trying to see
the cavern's extent.

"Think, Mas'r Harry?  Why, it looks to me like the front door to
Bogyland.  But do let's get back, sir; for I was never so hungry before
in my life.  I say stop, Mas'r Harry--what are you a-going to do?"

"Do!  Why, go in and explore the place, to be sure, Tom," I cried,
beginning to climb the rocky barrier that barred the way into the
cavern.

"No, I say, pray don't, Mas'r Harry!" cried Tom dolefully.  "I ain't
afraid in the light, when you can see what you are doing, but I can't
stand the dark, nohow.  Don't go, Mas'r Harry.  Think of what your poor
mother would say."

"Hold your tongue, will you, you great calf!"  I exclaimed angrily.

For an intense desire seemed to come over me to explore this dim,
shadowy region.  For what might we not find there treasured?  It might
be the ante-chamber to some rich, forgotten mine--one of the natural
storehouses from which the old Peruvians had been used to extract their
vast treasures.  There were riches inexhaustible in the bowels of the
earth, I knew, and if this were one of the gates by which they could be
reached, held back from causes induced by cowardice I would not be--I
had too great a prize to win.

But before I had crossed this natural barrier to the entrance, reason
told me that I must have light, and provision, and strength for the
undertaking; and at that time I had neither.  There was nothing for it
then but to listen to the voice of reason, as personified by Tom; and
with a sigh I climbed back just as he was going to join me.

I saw plainly enough that it must be nightfall before we could reach
home; and, getting free of the rocks, I was musing, and wondering
whether, after all, I had hit upon a discovery, when Tom whispered to
me, with averted head, to look to the right under the trees.

I did so, and became aware of a shadowy figure slinking off amongst the
bushes, but I took little heed of it then, trudging on as fast as the
nature of the ground would allow; and at last, thoroughly worn out in
body, but with my imagination heated, I reached the hacienda.

That evening, when I was alone with my uncle, I mentioned my discovery,
and asked him if ever the cavern had been explored.

"Never that I am aware of, Harry," he said quietly; "and I don't think
it would profit much the explorer.  I have heard of the cave; it is a
sort of sanctified place amongst the Indians, who people it with ghosts
and goblins, such as they know how to invent.  Let me see, what do they
call the place in their barbarous tongue?  Ah!  I remember now--
Tehutlan.  I had forgotten its very existence.  One of the old Peruvian
gods used to live there in olden times, I believe, as a sort of dragon
to watch over the hidden treasures of the earth.  You had better search
there and bring some of them out, or catch the dragon himself; he would
make your fortune as an exhibitor in New York."

"And you think, Uncle, it has never been explored?"  I said, without
replying to his last remark.

"My dear boy, for goodness' sake give up dreaming and take to reality,"
he said pettishly.  "Explored?  Yes.  I remember how they say the
Spaniards explored it, and butchered a lot of the poor Peruvians there
like so many sheep, but they found nothing.  Don't think about
treasure-seeking, Hal--it's a mistake; fortunes have to be made by toil
and scheming, not by haphazard proceedings; but all the same I must
say," he added musingly, "they do tell of the golden ornaments and
vessels of the sun-worship hidden by the poor conquered people ages ago
to preserve them from their greedy conquerors.  Their places are known
even now, they say, having been handed down from father to son."

"But did you ever search?"  I said eagerly.

"Who?  I?  Pooh!  Nonsense, Hal!  My idea always was that gold was to be
grown, not searched for; but after all, I might just as well have gone
upon a harum-scarum gold-hunt as have sunk my few poor hundreds here."

The conversation was directly changed, for Garcia came in to take his
evening cigar with the family, looking the while dark and scowling; but
it had little effect upon me, for my thoughts were running upon the dim,
mysterious cavern, with its echoes and shadows; and the more I thought,
the more it seemed possible that a natural or an artificial discovery
might there be made.  By artificial, I meant the finding of a buried
treasure.  With the old profusion of gold in the land there must have
been some rich mines.  Why might not this be one of them?

"Anyhow, I have nothing to lose," I said to myself; and at last I
retired to rest, excited with the thoughts of Lilla and the riches I
might find--the consequence being that I lay awake half the night,
forming all sorts of impossible schemes; but above all determining that,
come what might, I would explore the great cavern of Tehutlan--_if_.  If
what?  If I could find it again.



CHAPTER NINETEEN.

BEGINNING TO "BURN."

The sun was rising and sending his golden arrows darting through the
thick mist which hung over the plantation, as I went out into the
court-yard, to find all still and peaceful, for work had not yet
commenced.

I had taken the precaution of laying in a good supply of provisions,
which I carried in a wallet in company with flint and steel, matches,
and several candles; for, instead of the morning light making my project
seem absurd, I had grown warmer upon the subject, and come to the
determination that if buried treasures had lain in the earth all these
ages I might as well become the owner of one as for it to lie there
another century, waiting some less scrupulous searcher.

The night had not been passed without quiet thought, and I had come to
the conclusion that if so much gold had been used for the embellishment
of the various temples, and that gold had been hastily torn down and
hidden, it would most probably be in the vicinity of a ruined temple.

But at this present time I was red-hot for exploring the cavern, which
did not fit with my common-sense argument, without it should prove that
there had once existed a temple somewhere on one of the platforms at the
side of the gorge, when, if that should be the case, I felt sure that I
had hit upon the right place.

What, then, was my first proceeding?

Evidently to search the sides of the ravine for traces of some ancient
building.

Tom's words on the previous day had not been without effect.  It was
quite possible that I was watched, either by some spy of Garcia's, or,
it might be, by some suspicious Indians who had seen me searching about,
perhaps, for aught I could tell, close by one of the buried treasures,
of whose existence they were aware.

What a thought that was!--it sent a thrill through me, and roused me to
fresh energy and determination.

Under the circumstances, and granting that I had been watched--the
figure I had seen corroborating Tom's words--it was evidently my policy
to get away unseen; and to achieve this I had risen thus early, swung on
my wallet, and, armed with my gun, a hunting-knife, and a long iron rod,
I walked softly round the house, but only to have my nostrils saluted by
the fumes of tobacco, and the next instant I was face to face with Tom
Bulk, leaning against a post and smoking.

"Startin' so soon, Mas'r Harry!" he said quietly.  "I thought you'd be
in good time this morning."

Then, paying not the slightest heed to my discontented looks, he knocked
the ashes out of his pipe, shook himself together, and prepared to
follow me.

"But I don't want you with me, Tom," I said.

"Dessay not, Mas'r Harry; but I'm a-coming all the same, and got my gun
cleaned up ready."

I knew it was useless to complain--for Tom had already given me one or
two samples of how obstinate he could turn--so I made the best of it;
and, knowing that he was as trustworthy as man could be, I trudged on
with him close behind, hour after hour, till, after several wanderings
wide of the wished-for spot, we hit upon a little clear, cold, babbling
stream.

"I'll bet tuppence that comes out of that big hole," said Tom eagerly.

The same thought had occurred to me; and now, just as I had given up all
hope of finding the gorge that day, here was the silver clue that should
lead us straight to its entrance.

The stream led us, as we had expected, right to the mouth of the gorge--
that is, to where the rocks, which had heretofore been only a gentle
<DW72> clothed with abundant vegetation, suddenly contracted, became
precipitous, and broken up into patches of rich fertility and sterile
grandeur.

But now these charms were displayed in vain; for the gorge being
reached, I prepared to examine carefully its sides, and accordingly
began to climb.

"Thought you meant the big hole, Mas'r Harry?" said Tom, gazing uneasily
about, and evidently seeing an enemy in every lump of rock or trunk of
tree.

"Up here, Tom, first," I said.

He followed me sturdily, without a word, up, and up, and up, climbing
over the precipitous sides, with tough root or fibrous vine lending us
their aid, till, breathless, we stopped to gaze round or down into the
rich ravine below.

Platform after platform I reached, and then peered about amongst the
dense growth in search of some trace of masonry; but though again and
again the blocks of stone wore the appearance of having been piled
together, I could find nothing definite--nothing but that ever-recurring
dense foliage creeping over and hiding everything, till we had panted up
another hundred feet, where a much larger table-land or platform
extended before us.

My heart beat painfully now; for, judging from appearances, it seemed
that if ever temple had looked down upon the beautiful little vale, this
must have been the spot where it was piled.  The cavern was sacred to a
god; there must, then, have been some temple or place of sacrifice near
at hand, it seemed, and I longed to begin investigating; but only to
seat myself upon a mossy block, dreading the search lest it should prove
unfruitful, and so dash my golden visionary thoughts.  But at length I
was about to commence, when a throb of joy sent the blood coursing
through my veins, for Tom said, in his dry ill-tempered way:

"Been some building going on here some time or another, Mas'r Harry."

I started to my feet then, to find that the block I had used for my seat
had once been squared for building, and on peering about, there, in
every direction, amongst creeper, moss, and vine, lay fragments of some
mighty temple.  Some of the blocks were crumbling away; some square and
fresh as if lately cut; and many of a size that was gigantic, and
excited wonder as to how they could have been moved.

I was right, then.  Here had once been a grand temple; and if its
treasures had been hidden by the ancient priests of the place, where so
likely a concealment as the mysterious cave, whose gloomy entrance I
could just distinguish far-off below us?  The building must once have
been grand, for every step revealed new traces, with the vegetable world
completing the ruin commenced by man: mosses eating away, roots forcing
themselves amongst interstices, and moving with mighty force stupendous
blocks from their ancient sites.

"Yes, this was the temple.  I was right so far," I exclaimed to myself.
"Now, then, for the treasure!  This way, Tom!"  I exclaimed, turning to
descend, eager now, and excited.

But the descent was steep at times, even perilous, though I heeded it
not; and in less than half an hour we should have reached the stream
meandering through the rugged bottom of the ravine, had not Tom, who was
always on the look-out for danger, suddenly dragged me down into the
shelter of a mossy boulder, and, in reply to my inquiring look,
contented himself with pointing a little below us to the left, when,
following the direction of his arm, it seemed to me that my secret
starting that morning had been in vain.  The golden treasure, if it
existed, appeared about to be snatched from my grasp--my knowledge was
about to be met by cunning, perhaps force.  We were watched.  Of that
there was no doubt, and my heart sank with bitter disappointment; for
there, where Tom pointed, plainly to be seen peering at us from a clump
of verdure, was a pair of sharp bright eyes, their owner being carefully
hidden from view.



CHAPTER TWENTY.

IN SHADOWY LAND.

For quite a quarter of an hour we remained motionless--the watcher and
the watched--Tom and I both well armed, and involuntarily our guns were
pointed at the eyes; but the position was not one which justified
firing.  The ravine was as free to the owner of those eyes as to
ourselves, and, after all, we had no proof that this was an enemy.

I was in doubt as to our next proceeding, and had just come to the
conclusion that our most sensible plan would be to turn back without
going near the cavern at all, and so try to throw the enemy off the
scent, for I felt certain that whether I discovered a treasure or no, I
was on the right track, when Tom whispered eagerly to me:

"Let's show him that we know how to use our guns, Mas'r Harry.  We won't
shoot him, but only give him a start.  Look at that: there's a
poll-parrot--two of 'em--settled in the tree above him!  It's a long
shot, but I think I could bring one down; so here goes!"

Tom levelled his piece and the next instant would have fired, when the
parroquets began chattering, screaming, and fighting together,
fluttering down towards the bushes which concealed our watcher.  Then
there was a rush, a crashing of the undergrowth, and the owner of the
eyes--a good-sized deer--bounded into sight for an instant, and then
disappeared in a series of spring leaps, which soon took it out of sight
in the dense growth.

"I _am_, blessed!" exclaimed Tom, in accents of the most profound
disgust.  "If I'd known, wouldn't I have fired, that's all!  Had some
venison to take back, Mas'r Harry."

"I'm very glad you did not, Tom," I said.

For I felt how the report of a gun would have published our whereabouts,
if there really were any lurkers near--a thing that I must say I now
thought very probable, since the fact of there being a treasure in the
cave, held sacred by the Indians, would, as a matter of course, render
them very jealous of intruders.

"Where for now, Mas'r Harry?" said Tom.

"The cavern, Tom," I said.

Finishing our descent we were not long in reaching the rocky barrier,
evidently piled by Nature at the entrance of the vast frowning arch.

We stopped and looked around suspiciously; but the gorge was silent as
the grave--not a leaf stirred; there was neither the hum of insect nor
the note of bird.  Heat--glowing heat--reflected from the rocks, already
not to be touched without pain--and silence.

"Going in, Mas'r Harry?" said Tom.

"Of course," I replied.

"Very good, Mas'r Harry; if you will, you will.  But if we get lost, and
then find ourselves right away down in no-man's land, don't you go and
say it's my fault."

I was in no mood to reply, and clambering up the hot rocks, with little
glancing lizards and beetles rushing away at every step, we soon stood
gazing in at the gloomy chamber, our eyes, unaccustomed to the gloom,
penetrating but a few yards at a time, so that had there been a host of
enemies within, they would have been unseen.

"Now, Tom!"  I said excitedly, as together we climbed down into the
shade, to feel the cool and pleasant change from broiling heat to what
was, comparatively, a very low temperature.  "Now, Tom, we are going to
explore one of the wonders of the world!"

"Humph!" ejaculated Tom, who did not look at all pleased; "it's very
big, and large, and cool.  But say, Mas'r Harry," he exclaimed,
brightening up, "it wouldn't make half a bad place for keeping tallers!
Yah! what's that?"

"Only a bird," I said, as with a rush a couple of large birds had flown
close by us, evidently alarmed at our visit to their home.  "That's a
good sign, Tom, and shows that you need not fancy there's an enemy
behind every block of stone.  If anyone was within those birds would not
be there."

Tom grunted, and then, as if to show his unbelief, cocked both barrels
of his gun, as, with eyes each moment growing more familiar with the
gloom, we walked slowly forward into the darkness ahead--slowly, for the
floor was rugged in places with fragments from the roof, and stalagmite.
The roof was about fifty feet above our heads, and the span of the low
corrugated arch, I should say, a hundred more than that.  The stream was
rippling noisily along, threading its way amongst the massive blocks of
stone, murmuring musically over pebbles and sand.  Now our way was wet
and slimy, and then again rugged and dry, till, having penetrated some
little distance with every precaution, we turned round to look back at
the entrance, to see as pretty a picture as ever I gazed upon in my
life.  We could now see plainly the nature of the roof, hung with
beautiful stalactites of many graceful forms, giving to the great arch
the appearance of some grand specimen of Gothic tracery, through which
we looked upon the ravine lit up by the outer sunshine, with its green,
and gold, and blushing floral hues.  It was a scene to be remembered for
ever; but the gold in my thoughts seemed more glorious, and I turned
from it without a sigh.

Another dozen yards and a curve in the cave hid the entrance from sight;
we were in gloomy shades, where a light was necessary; and before going
farther I paused to think.

If the treasure had been hidden there, where would it be?

Reason said directly, in the most distant and inaccessible recesses of
the vast cavern.

And where was that?  How far from the light of day?

That was the problem I had set myself to solve, and, in spite of a
feeling of awe with which the place inspired me, I prepared for the
solution.  It was no light task, and I have no shame in owning that I
felt a strange reluctance to proceed along a rugged path wherein might
at any time be yawning some fearful bottomless chasm, ready to swallow
up the adventurer; but I would not show my dread, and if Tom felt any he
was too obstinate to show his.

By means of string we tied each a candle to our pistol barrels, and then
set forward, walking slowly, now with the floor of the cavern ascending,
now with it sloping down with a steep and rugged gradient, but always
with the little river gurgling in darkness by our side, sometimes almost
on a level with our feet, at others, where the path rose, running in a
deep chasm whose black darkness made one shudder.

We must have penetrated, I should say, the greater part of a mile when
the narrow rocky shelf upon which we were walking came to a sudden end,
and holding down our candles, we tried to penetrate the depth before us,
but in vain; we could only see a vast black abyss, over which we were
standing upon a tongue of rock, while to right, to left, it was
precisely the same--an awful falling away of all that was palpable--and
we knew that a slip would have sent us to a horrible death.

"This is a fearsome, unked place, Mas'r Harry," whispered Tom; but his
words went floating around as if taken up by a chorus of mocking voices,
and a strange shudder crept through me.

It was indeed awful, that vast obscurity, with death threatening us if
we took another step; and I could not help thinking how easy it was for
a people of a low order of intellect, blindly superstitious, to make
this solemn hall the home of their poor idol.  It was a place that took
no little courage to explore, and often I felt my heart fail me ere I
recalled the errand upon which I had come.

Was it likely that, sooner than it should fall into the hands of the
Spaniards, gold almost invaluable had been cast into this awful gulf?
It was probable; but, as far as I could see, recovery would have been
impossible, unless, after all, it was not so profound as the darkness
made it appear.  But then, how to descend?  To swing by a rope over the
fearful chasm would have unnerved the stoutest of heart, and I felt that
I hardly could have dared such an adventure.

This, then, must be the extent of the cavern--or rather of our power to
explore it in this direction--for, as I have before said, we stood right
out upon a projecting piece of rock from which descent was absolutely
impossible, and there was nothing for it but to turn back.

"Think it's deep, Mas'r Harry?" whispered Tom loudly.

"Deep--deep--deep--deep--deep--deep!" came whispering back from all
sides, making Tom shiver; but he recovered himself directly, and taking
a piece of greasy newspaper from his pocket he loosely crumpled it
together, knelt down close to the brink of the abyss, lit the paper, and
then threw it from him to blaze out brightly, and fall down--down
rapidly--as it burned lower, and lower, and lower, till at a vast depth
it burned out, but without illuminating anything.  We saw no reflection
from rocky point or gleaming water, and our feeling of awe was
increased.

"I'll have another try, anyhow," said Tom.  "Ears will sometimes tell us
what eyes won't.  Just lend a hand here, Mas'r Harry."

For a moment or two I shrank from assisting him, on seeing his object,
but directly after applied one hand to a rough block of stone that lay
at our side, weighing, I should think, a hundred pounds.

We had about a couple of yards to move it, and then it rested upon the
very brink, a shrinking sensation coming over me as I saw Tom stand,
candle in hand, with one foot resting upon the rock ready to thrust it
over.

"Now, then, Mas'r Harry," he said, "this'll find the bottom if anything
will.  We shall soon know now.  Say when!"

I did not speak, for I was wondering whether that rough block was going
down where that I coveted had been cast, and for a moment I was about to
restrain Tom; but I thought that the fall of that stone would teach me
whether the bottom was at an attainable depth or no, and I signed to Tom
to thrust the fragment off.

"Over, Mas'r Harry?"

"Over!"  I said in a whisper; and the next moment there was a grating
noise and the stone had been thrust off to fall--fall--fall in silence,
while with awe-stricken countenances we leaned over the gulf and
listened, second after second, without avail, for no sound came up.

"It's gone bang through to the other side of the world, Mas'r Harry!"
whispered Tom.  "There ain't no end to this place, for if it had been
ever so deep you must have heard it touch bottom some time.  Ain't it
awful!"

It was awful, and a hand seemed clutching my heart as I thought of
falling, ever falling like that, or of some enemy dashing me over into
the fearful gulf.  There seemed to be indeed no bottom within ordinary
range, and the idea of descending by rope in search there of treasure
was absurd.

How long the stone had been falling I cannot say; but just as we had
given up all thought of hearing of it more there came from the depths
below a faint whisper of a splash, or of some pebble falling in water,
but only for that whisper to be echoed and re-echoed from distant parts
till it increased to a fearful roar that was some seconds in dying away.

It was impossible to help a shudder upon hearing those horrible
reverberations, each one telling of the awful profundity of the place--
one which, without extensive mining apparatus, I felt that any fathoming
for search was out of the question.



CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.

THE BLACK ARCH.

Dreadful place indeed!

"They cannot have thrown any treasure down there," I mentally exclaimed
the next moment.  "It must be somewhere recoverable."

"Say, Mas'r Harry," said Tom then, "hadn't we better get back?"

"Are you afraid, Tom?"  I said.

"Well, no, Mas'r Harry, I ain't afraid; but I am nearer to being so than
ever I was in my life.  'Taint fear, only one of my knees will keep
going shikery-shakery, and my teeth have took it into their heads to
make believe it's cold, and they're tapping together like the lid of a
kettle in boiling time.  But I ain't a bit afraid."

"It's an awful-looking place, Tom," I said, "and enough to make any one
shudder."

"'Tis that, Mas'r Harry--'tis that indeed!" said Tom earnestly.  "And if
I believed in ghosts and goblins I should say as this was the shop where
they was made.  But--but, Mas'r Harry, what's that?"

I turned round hastily to look in the direction in which we had come, to
see plainly a shadowy-looking form flitting, as it were, out of sight in
the dim obscurity, and a feeling of tremor came over me as I thought of
our peril should we be attacked now, standing, as we were, with certain
death behind and on either side; and determined that, if we were to
encounter an enemy, it should be upon less dangerous ground, I called to
Tom to follow me; and holding my dim light well in front, began to
retrace my steps in the direction of the entrance, when there was a loud
echoing cry from behind.  I felt a violent blow in the back which dashed
me to the ground, and in an instant our candles were extinguished and we
were in darkness.

For a few moments I felt paralysed, expecting each instant that I should
have to grapple with an enemy; but, save for the whisperings and the
distant roar of water, all was silent till Tom spoke.

"Have you got the flint and steel, Mas'r Harry?"

"Yes," I whispered.  "But what was the meaning of that blow and that
cry?"

"It was me.  I stumbled, Mas'r Harry," said Tom, "for there was a black
thing like a devil's imp flew up out of the big hole and hit me in the
face.  But pray get a light, Mas'r Harry!"

That Tom's imp was some huge bat I did not for a moment doubt; but after
seeing a shadowy figure in front I knew that it was possible that danger
awaited us, so, hastily dragging flint and steel from my pocket, I was
soon clinking away till a shower of sparks fell upon the tinder; the
usual amount of blowing followed, and at last a match was fluttering its
blue, cadaverous light, to blaze out soon and enable us to ignite our
candles, now burned down very low, when, hastily pursuing our way, we
came again without adventure into the great entrance, the daylight being
welcome indeed, when we sat down, about fifty yards from the mouth, to
partake of some refreshments.

It is surprising what a tonic those provisions and a moderate taste of
_aguardiente_ formed.  The daylight, too, lent its aid to restore the
equilibrium of our nerves, and things wore an entirely different aspect.

"That must have been my shadow, Tom," I said at last, just as he was
indulging in a pipe.  "Your light threw it on to the dark curtain of
gloom before us.  And as for your imp, that was a huge bat."

"Well, do you know, Mas'r Harry," said Tom, "I do begin to think that I
hollered afore I was hurt.  But you know it really is an unked place in
there, and wants a deal of getting used to, and I ain't a bit used to it
yet.  But don't you make no mistake, Mas'r Harry; if you want to go in
again I'll go with you, and I can't say fairer than that."

"Well, Tom," I said thoughtfully, "I do want to go in again, for I'm not
at all satisfied with my journey.  I don't understand what became of
this little river, for of course it must have turned off somewhere this
side of the great hole."

"To be sure it did, Mas'r Harry; I saw where it went off under a bit of
a tunnel just before we got to that horrible great place."

"Then the cavern must branch off there, Tom," I said.  "That must be the
part for us to explore."

"Very good, Mas'r Harry, when you like; but in case of an accident, and
I don't come out any more, I think I'll tell the truth before I go in: I
said I wasn't, Mas'r Harry, but I was awful scared and cold and creepy,
but I think I shall be better this time; so when you're ready I am."

I expressed my readiness, and in spite of fatigue we stepped onward
again till the darkness compelled us to stop and light candles, when,
knowing now that there were no very great perils in the path, we made
far more progress, and in a very short time arrived at the spot where
Tom had seen that the bed of the stream took a fresh direction.

It was just as he had intimated: it suddenly turned off to the left, but
beneath the shelving rock where we stood holding down our candles as far
as we could reach; and if we wished to explore farther there was nothing
for it but to scramble down some forty feet to where the water ran
murmuring amongst the blocks of stone, here all glazed over with the
stalagmitic concretion that had dripped from the roof.

I led the way, and with very little difficulty stood at last by the
stream, when Tom followed, and we slowly proceeded along its rocky bed
till at the end of a few yards we came to the turn where it came gushing
out of a dark arch, some six feet high and double that width, the water
looking black and deep as it filled the arch from side to side, running
swiftly--a river of ink in appearance.

"Tom," I said dreamily, "we must explore this dark tunnel."

"Very well, Mas'r Harry," he said in resigned tones.

And when a few minutes after I turned to look at him, he was leaning
against a rock and removing his shoes and stockings.

"What are you doing?"  I said.

"Gettin' ready, Mas'r Harry; so as to have something dry to put on when
we come back."

"But I'm not going to try without boat or raft, Tom," I said.  "We must
give it up for to-day."

Tom said no word but hurriedly replaced his extreme garments, and
together we slowly made our way back to reach the light in time to see
that the sun was very low down in the horizon, when completely wearied
out we sat down to finish our provision, a very easy task, for I had
only intended my store for one.  But I must give Tom the credit of
saying that he would not eat without much pressing, declaring that his
pipe would satisfy him.

An hour after we were making our way back to the hacienda with,
fortunately for us, a bright moon overhead, but it was nearly midnight
before we reached the court-yard.



CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.

THE RETURN TO SHADOW-LAND.

Tom was inexhaustible in his schemes, and at the end of three days he
had contrived the very thing we required, in a light little raft
composed of a few bamboo wands confining together a couple of inflated
calf or small heifer skins, which floated lightly on the river like a
pair of huge bladders.

"There, Mas'r Harry, what do you say to them, eh?  Let all the wind out
and double 'em up, cut fresh sticks over there by the cave, blow the
bags out again, and there you are fitted up in style."

"Tom," I said joyfully, "you're a treasure!"

"Course I am, Mas'r Harry!  And yet you wanted to leave me behind."

We were off the next morning before daybreak well armed, each carrying a
pistol besides our gun, and travelled as rapidly as we could, being
pretty well laden; our load being increased this time by better
illuminating powers in the shape of rope thickly coated with pitch.

"You'll take the prog-bag, Mas'r Harry, as soon as we get there; and
I've brought this bit of rope so as to sling the skin bags over my
shoulders," said Tom.

"All right!"  I said, and I nodded assent.

Having the advantage of a little more acquaintance with the road we
arrived at the ravine in good time without seeing a soul, walked
straight to the blocks in front of the great cave, climbed them,
hastened in for some distance, and then sat down in the cool twilight to
rest and refresh ourselves, the place being apparently just as we had
left it some days before.

It was very laborious work that tramping through a trackless country,
but an hour's rest and a hearty meal sufficed to make us once more
eagerly set about our task; Tom now apparently as much excited as myself
though without my deep interest.  Tom's idea was that we might discover
something wonderful, more singular perhaps than the vast chasm; but his
fancies were exceedingly vague, while for my part I studiously preserved
silence respecting my own intentions.

As soon as we reached the region of gloom we lit a candle and one torch,
but so far, with the increased power of thoroughly illuminating the
place, it only served to reveal the vastness of the awe-inspiring cave
we were traversing.

Our progress was necessarily slow, but at last we stood over the arch
from whence issued the stream, when, moved by a strange feeling of
attraction, I left Tom busily preparing the raft while I walked forward
with the torch to stand at last upon the rocky cape projecting over the
awful gulf, and there stood holding the light above my head trying to
penetrate the gloom.

But my endeavours were vain; above, beneath, around, the torch shed a
halo of faint light, beyond that all was intense blackness, from out of
which came the whisperings, murmurings, and roarings, evidently of
water, but which the imagination might easily have transposed into the
mutterings of a vast and distant multitude.

With an involuntary shudder I turned away, thinking of the consequences
of a sudden vertigo.

Tom was busy with knife and rope, and kneeling down I helped him,
puffing into the skins till almost breathless; but at last our task was
done, and together we carried the little raft down to the water-side,
though not without several slips, launched it, and then placed upon it
our lights stuck in lumps of clay brought for the purpose.

The raft was about six feet long by four feet wide; the skins supporting
light sticks of bamboo well secured to them, and these in their turn
bearing cross pieces laid in their places, so that the light vessel's
deck, if I may call it so, was a sort of bamboo grating, upon which we
could sit, though standing would have been a puzzling gymnastic
exercise.

We were ready then at last; but now the same feeling seemed to pervade
both as we stood there on the rock gazing before us at the black arch,
through which, flowing easily, came the inky water.  From where, from
what strange regions?

The Golden Magnet--by George Manville Fenn



CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.

THE WATERFALL.

I don't think many could have stood peering into that gloomy tunnel
without feeling something like a tremor of dread.  However, I mastered
it at last, after asking myself the question, Was it wise to run such a
risk?  The answer came in the shape of gold--it might be the passage to
traverse to arrive at inexhaustible treasure, and I turned to Tom.

"Are you ready?"  I said.

"Yes, Mas'r Harry, I'm ready when I've lit my pipe," he said.

And coolly filling it and igniting it from the torch, he crept boldly on
to the little raft and took a bamboo, one of two cut on our way here, to
pole us along.

After placing our guns in safety upon a ledge of rock, I crept on too,
and the little raft swayed down heavily; but it was wonderfully buoyant,
and with our lights in front we prepared for our subterranean passage.

"All right, Mas'r Harry?"

"Yes," I replied.

And then we pushed off, poling ourselves along under the arch, the
rugged wall being easily reached on either side, the stream widening and
not being very rapid after we had passed the first dozen yards.

The navigation proved so easy that we were able to glance about at the
sides and roof, which often nearly touched us, compelling us to stoop,
while at other times the tunnel opened out and we seemed to be making
our way through a narrow lake.  But it soon contracted again, and I
should think our onward progress must have been through the damp, dark,
winding way for quite a couple of miles; when, after seeing nothing but
shining, glistening rock above us for hours, we seemed to have come to
the end of our uneventful journey in a large irregularly shaped chamber
whose roof of veined rock was about forty feet above us, its length
being about two hundred feet, and its greatest breadth about sixty.

The stream had widened out into a little lake again, leaving, however,
on one side a sandy shore some six or eight feet wide.  The waters were
troubled, as if in a state of ebullition, and for a while we sat
wondering and listening to a loud moaning roar coming apparently from a
distance.  Then pushing on by the side, in a manner of speaking we
coasted round the place till we reached the sandy shore and rested; for
though the water flowed out through the arch by which we had entered
there was no way of further exit from the great vault.

This, then, was the extent of the cavern river, and it was with
disappointment that I went slowly round once more, poling the raft over
the troubled waters, to find that there was no likelihood of a discovery
here.  The sandy shore was the only landing-place, and unless the
treasure was buried there I could see no other spot where a search could
be made.  As to the lake's profundity, of that we could tell nothing,
only that at every attempt to touch bottom we withdrew our poles with a
shiver.

Here, then, was the source of the river, which rose from springs
somewhere far below--springs which caused the bubbling we saw, making
our little raft to rock terribly in one part we passed over, so that we
gladly sought the sandy shore and there remained listening to the
lapping of the water and the faint distant roar.

"There must be another cavern beyond this, Tom," I said after a
thoughtful pause.

"Ain't a doubt about it, Mas'r Harry," he replied.  "It's my belief that
if any one would do it he might go on for ever and ever, right through
the inside of the earth to find it all full of places like this."

"Look!"  I said eagerly, as I stood on the sandy slip of land and held
up the light above my head, pointing the while to the end of the vault;
"there's a rift up there, Tom, if we could climb to it, and that's where
that roaring noise comes through."

"Mean to try it, Mas'r Harry?"

"Yes," I said, "if we can climb to it; otherwise we must come again with
something we can fit together like a ladder."

"Oh!  I can get up there, Mas'r Harry, I know," said Tom.  "I've been up
worse places than that in Cornwall after gulls' eggs."

Tom sprang ashore, and I gave a cry of horror, for the little raft was
moving off; but with a leap Tom was back upon it and drew it ashore by a
piece of line, which he tied to one of the poles after forcing it well
down into the sand.

"That won't get away now, Mas'r Harry," he said.

And then stepping cautiously along over the sand, which gave way and
seemed to shiver beneath our feet, we reached the end of the vault, and
with very little difficulty climbed from cranny to cranny till we gained
the opening--a mere slit between two masses of rock--through which we
had to squeeze ourselves, and then wind up and up between block after
block, that looked as though they had been riven asunder in some
convulsion of nature.

Two or three times we were for going back, so arduous was the ascent;
but determined to see our adventure to the end we pressed on and on,
ever higher, till the noise became almost deafening, a cold dank wind
too made our lights to flutter, and once they threatened to become
extinct.  But five minutes after the passage widened and the draught was
not so fierce, while bright veins running through the rock at my side
whispered of some rich metal or other for him who would venture thus far
in its search.

"We're a-coming to it now, Mas'r Harry," said Tom shouting, for the
noise was deafening.

The very next moment we were standing in a vast vault stretching out as
far as our feeble light would show us, while about fifty feet to our
left, in one black, gloomy, unbroken torrent, fell from some great
height above, a cascade of water, black as night, till it reached the
basin below us, which, even with our trembling lights, shone forth in a
silvery, iridescent foam.

We could hardly hear the words we uttered from time to time, but we felt
but little inclination to speak, so awe-inspiring was the scene before
us; and it was not until we had been gazing for some time that we
ventured to climb down lower and lower, to find that the bottom of the
cavern was a basin of restless water, from which it was evident some
portion escaped through a natural conduit to the vault below, while
probably the rest made its way to the vast gulf we had before seen.

Then up and down--now near the great foaming basin, then with arduous
climbing close to the dome that formed the roof--I searched about, well
aided by Tom, who seemed to think that I was looking for something
precious, though he said nothing.  At one time we approached so near the
waterfall that we could distinguish, high up, the narrow archway through
which it gushed.  It seemed, too, that by a little management any one
daring enough might have passed round the rocky amphitheatre in which we
were, right beneath the waterfall to the other side, where rifts and
faintly-discerned chasms whispered of further wondrous passages
unexplored, and I felt sure--for the more I searched the more the
feeling came home to me--that we were the first human beings who had
ever entered this stronghold of nature.

With the exception of the bright veins I have mentioned there was no
trace of gem or precious metal.  The sides and roof sparkled and
glistened again and again, but it was only with some stalactitic
formation--beautiful to the eye, but worthless; and at last I felt that
this was labour in vain--the treasure was no more here than in the vast
chasm where we had hurled the stone; and, shouting to Tom my intentions,
we stood and had another look, and then lit upon a mass of rock a large
piece of oily oakum which we had brought for the purpose.

Our oakum burned brightly, but it was of little avail, giving us not
much more than a glimpse of the wonders of the grand chamber in which we
stood; and then we turned to go, but only to encounter an unexpected
difficulty.  The chamber was so vast and the rift by which we had
entered the sloping side so high up amidst crags resembling one another
that we had great difficulty in finding it, and I remember shuddering as
I thought of the consequences of being lost there in the dark.



CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.

CAST ON A STRANGE SHORE.

Being nervous or wanting in nerve is a state that would soon prove the
ruin of the adventurous.

We had to set ourselves determinedly to the task of finding our way
back, and after a weary climb Tom pointed it out.

If anything, the descent was more laborious than the climbing up; but at
last, tired out, we reached the vaulted chamber with its troubled lake
and narrow sandy strip of shore--a welcome place, gloomy and horrible as
it was, for it meant rest upon our raft, and the gliding out with the
stream to the entrance arch, and then not so very long a journey to the
blessed light of heaven.

"Ah!"

That cry burst from our lips simultaneously, as, climbing down to reach
the sand, we held our lights low to see--what?

That there must be a sort of tide in the lake, small as it was; for the
water was bubbling up more fiercely with a hissing noise, and there was
no sand--the waters had covered it; there was no raft--the pole had been
loosened by the water and the raft had gone, floated away, to be driven
by the stream to the tunnel, and then swim lightly away to leave us to a
horrible death--a self-sought death; and as I thought of what I had done
in my insensate greed for gold I could have groaned aloud.

But no, it was no insensate greed, I told myself--it was for Lilla's
sake--and my eyes rilled with tears as I thought that I should never see
her more, and that Garcia--

That name sent a thrill of energy through my weary frame, and calling
upon speechless Tom, I told him to light a piece more oakum; and he did
so, to reveal plainly the raft floating about right at the end of the
great vault, and apparently nearing the arch of exit.  What were we to
do?

There was but one answer.  Dash into that horrible black lake and swim
to the raft, or else stay and die.

It was dreadful, to plunge into those mysteriously disturbed waters,
containing far below who could tell what hideous monsters?--to swim, or
try to swim, where the strange eddies and whirlpools might draw the
struggling wretch down!  To swim, too, in profound darkness; for I felt
that if the attempt were made it would be made together.

The thoughts in my breast must have been the same as those in poor
Tom's; for, looking at the faintly-discerned raft and then up at me, he
said with a groan: "Mas'r Harry, I daren't!"

"Tom," I said, "I dare not!"

"But tell me to try it, Mas'r Harry," he cried--"order me to swim off to
it, and I'll try.  I shall be sucked down like a cork in a sink-hole,
but tell me to do it--order me and make me, and I'll try; but I daren't
go without I was made."

"Light another piece of oakum, Tom," I said hoarsely.  "Perhaps the
water on the sand is shallow and we might walk along to the other end,
and then try to swim together: it would not be half so far.  But stay--
hold my hand while I step down and try."

We crept down to where the sand had been bare when we left it, though
loose and yielding; and, sticking the short piece of candle in a
crevice, Tom seized my hand firmly and I stepped down into the water,
but only to cry to Tom to draw me forth, for the sand was quick now and
watery, and more dangerous to him who ventured upon it than the lake
itself.

It was not without a sharp struggle that I once more stood beside Tom
upon the ledge of rock, when without a word he drew out the oakum and
prepared to light it, while, half beside myself with horror, I tried to
calculate how far was the distance, and whether, by well marking the
spot where the raft floated, we could not contrive to hit it in swimming
in the dark.  That we should have to swim in the dark I knew; for
neither of us, I felt, could then have swum with one hand, holding a
light above the troubled waters with the other.

Just then Tom's oakum blazed up behind me, to light up the vault with
its sparkling stalactitic roof, glistening sides, and strangely-agitated
water.  There floated the raft plainly enough just in front of the arch,
and so near to our reach that in an instant Tom had thrown off cap,
wallet, and jacket beside the candles stuck in the rock and the still
burning oakum.

"No, Tom--no!"  I cried, catching at him; "you must not risk it."

"Let go, Mas'r Harry--I must!" he shouted.  "I swore I'd stick to you."

He struck me in the chest so that I staggered back, and then there was a
loud plash and he was swimming away.

To start up and throw off my own jacket and wallet was the work of an
instant, for, with his example, I could not stay back.  We were
companions, and I felt that it would be cowardly after he had taken the
first plunge.

Another instant and I was after him, "plash!" with the noise of my
plunge still echoing as I rose above the waters--echoing in a strange
whisper along the arched roof.  But oh! the painful, numbing sensation
of intense cold that struck to my heart!  It was fearful, and before I
had taken a dozen strokes I felt that I should never reach the raft.

I was not called upon so to do, for the next minute, in answer to my cry
came a groan from Tom, and I knew that he was swimming back, and the
next moment he shrieked:

"Mas'r Harry, back! lend me a hand!  Cramp--cramp!"

And then he gave a shriek of agony which roused me to a state of frenzy,
as I could just see him beating the water with frantic effort close by
my side.

The raft was forgotten then as with a vigorous stroke I reached him,
placed one arm beneath his, and then struck out for the lights.

How I reached them I cannot recall: only a horrible struggle, the
echoing of splashing water, the reaching of the cold, slimy rock with
something seeming to draw me under, a fierce effort to get out, the
dragging forth of poor Tom, who sank by my side with a groan; and then
in a dreamy state I pulled the last piece of oakum from Tom's wallet,
held it to one of the candles for it to blaze up, sputtering loudly from
the wet hand that held it.  I sheltered my eyes after pressing out the
water, looked again and again, separated the oakum so that it flared
more and more, lighting up the low arch through which we had entered,
when I groaned to myself: was this to be the end of my golden dreams--
death in this hideous vault? for the stream set swiftly now through the
arch, and the raft was gone!



CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.

A NIGHT'S REST.

The bright, flaring, spluttering blaze, glimmering and flashing upon the
troubled waters and reflected from the roof; then, as it sank down,
comparative darkness, for the two scraps of candle seemed to burn very
dimly.  Tom lay upon the rocks without speaking, while the agony that
passed through my brain was intense.  I felt that I had murdered the
poor fellow, who was called upon to give up his young life through his
fidelity to what any thoughtful man would call my wild follies.

We were to die, then, here, in this wild, mysterious cave, far beyond
the reach of aid; for even if we had not by our caution thoroughly
concealed our coming, who would dare to follow our route, unless by
chance the raft were seen?

That certainly afforded a faint gleam of hope, and another came directly
to fortify it.  My uncle had talked about the great cave, and its
exploration had been mentioned.  It was possible, then, that upon our
absence causing uneasiness a search might be made in this direction; for
I knew my uncle too well to think that he would leave his sister's child
unsought.

But if he did not arrive in time? or if some of Garcia's spies had seen
us enter and were to mislead the searchers?

The thought was too horrible; and I shuddered as I thought of Lilla and
her fate, till a maddening sensation of jealousy drove for a few minutes
all fear and dread away.

My musings were arrested by Tom, who made me start by suddenly taking my
dripping hand between his--damp and icy to the touch.

The next moment he was holding my hand to his breast, so that I could
feel the laboured beatings of his true heart as he exclaimed hoarsely:

"Mas'r Harry, you saved my life then, and I'll never forget it."

"Nonsense, Tom!"  I said with gloomy cheerfulness.  "It's all give and
take out here.  Why, you saved me from the crocodiles."

"Cuss 'em!  Don't talk about 'em here, Mas'r Harry," said Tom in a
whisper.  "We don't know but what there's horrible ones living in these
dreadful waters.  That there cramp taking me in the leg like that made
me feel as if one had got hold of me.  I'm a horrible coward, Mas'r
Harry, that I am."

"Tom," I said, "this place is enough to unnerve any one."

Then we were silent, for the strange echoings of our voices had an
unearthly, terrible effect upon our nerves; and more than once I started
at the grotesque shadow of myself upon the wall.  The roar of the great
waterfall came humming through the rift above our heads, while below the
waters hissed, and bubbled, and lapped against the rocks in a curious,
whispering, awe-inspiring fashion; and then moved by the same impulse we
both took off and wrung all the moisture we could out of our things
before standing shivering before the lights, one of which was already
beginning to gutter down and threatened to become extinct.

Upon examining our wallets we found that we each had a couple of candles
left, but our provision was very low; and the question now arose as to
the next proceeding.

"Won't do to lie down and die, Mas'r Harry," said Tom.  "I'm ever so
much warmer now."

"No, Tom," I said, "we'll fight to the last; but what are we to do?"

"Well, Mas'r Harry, I'd first of all get up into the crack of a passage
up there before the lights go out, for there's no knowing how high this
water may rise; and if I ain't to see daylight no more, but to die here,
I should like to die dry and warm."

"Don't talk about death, Tom," I said with a shudder.  "Let's fight for
life to the last, and, as you say, we'll climb up to the rift."

One candle burned out as we tried to move it, and deferring the lighting
of another for reasons of economy, we climbed to the narrow crack-like
passage and went along it about thirty yards before Tom, who was first,
turned round in a part where the passage widened a few feet.

"Now look here, Mas'r Harry," he said.  "We don't know that there ain't
no other way out of the cave.  I should say as there is if we could find
it; at all events we mustn't lie down and die till we've looked about
and the candles are burned away, and then felt about till we can't feel
no longer.  So see here, Mas'r Harry, we're wet, and cold, and tired
out, and we can't do nothing better than sit down here and have a good
sleep.  Then we'll wake up, eat the bit of grub there is left, and go to
work again fresh.  What do you say?"

"Say?  That I think you are right, Tom," I replied, trying to imitate
his cheerfulness.  "But about the light?"

"Light, Mas'r Harry?  Why, we must put it out.  We ain't little children
to be afraid to go to sleep in the dark.  Then you've got your
tinder-box and matches all dry in the wallet, and we can light up and go
at it again in the morning, or night, or whatever it is, Mas'r Harry,
for there ain't no difference here.  Who knows but what, while we are
looking for the way out, we mayn't find what you want?"

"What I want, Tom?"  I said suspiciously.  "To be sure, Mas'r Harry?
What you want, whatever that may be--I don't say as it's gold mines, or
dymons, or what not; only whatever it is we _may_ find it, for I
shouldn't be surprised at finding anything here."

I did not reply; but making the best of the sad lodging that was to be
ours for the next few hours, and all wet and shivering as we were,
creeping together for warmth, we lay down, and I stretched out my hand
to extinguish the candle.

But my hand was arrested half-way, as I looked upon the glittering rock
above my head and listened to the hissing, seething noise of the water
below us in the long vault and the faint roar of the cataract far above
us to the left.  Now with a sense of dread indescribable I thought of
the water rising to where we were during our sleep, and whether it would
not be better to light another candle.  Anything was better than lying
there in the horrible darkness.

The spare supply of light we possessed, though, would be wanted after
our sleep, and reluctantly I pressed down the wick; thinking as I did so
what would be the use of the gold if I found it now and there should be
no means of escape!

"What time would you like your shaving-water, Mas'r Harry?" said Tom,
whose teeth chattered as he spoke.

"This is no time for laughing, Tom," I said gloomily.

"I don't see as it's any time for crying, Mas'r Harry," he replied, "for
I'm quite wet enough without that."

Then he was silent, and we lay in that awful darkness, which in, spite
of my efforts, I kept peopling with multitudinous horrors.

Then I seemed to lose consciousness; in spite of hard rock, cold, and
damp, sleeping heavily, and dreaming now of Lilla, who seemed to be in
some terrible peril from which I could not save her.  I wanted to reach
her, but something kept me away, while the danger she was in, as it
floated before my distempered imagination, was somehow connected with
Garcia, and Indians, and fire, or a mingling of all three.  I felt ready
to cry out as I struggled against the power that held me back; but at
last I saw what it was that stayed me; it was the gold for which I had
been seeking--piled-up, heavy masses of gold--holding me down, crushing
me almost, while Lilla's sweet imploring face was turned to me as if
asking my help.  I strained, I longed to release myself, but in vain;
and at last one great ponderous mass began to move towards me slowly,
with a heavy, roaring noise, till it rested upon my chest, and with a
start I woke to find one of Tom's arms thrown across my throat and him
snoring loudly.

For a few minutes I lay aghast, unable to make out where I was; but by
degrees recollection brought back all the horrors of our position, and
with a sigh I managed to rid myself of Tom's arm.

I settled myself to try and sleep once more, so as to be ready for what
would, I knew, prove an arduous, wearying task, tiring alike to body and
spirit; when my blood seemed to be frozen in my veins, for there came a
soft, fluttering noise, the air seemed to fan my cheeks as I lay, and
then there echoed through the place three wild, appalling cries,
followed by profound silence.

"Who's that a-calling?  It won't do, Muster Garcia!  You left her to
drown, eh?  What!  Hilloa!  Say, Mas'r Harry, was I dreaming or did you
call?"

"I did not call, Tom," I whispered; "but there is some one in here
besides us.  Hark!"

Again, as I spoke, and heard plainly above the distant roar, three more
cries came sweeping along, and once more there was silence.

"All right, Mas'r Harry," said Tom; "better chance for us to get out.
If some one else can come in that only shows that there's another way;
and when it's time to get up, why, up we get, for I don't feel a bit
disposed to try any more sleep here--it's too much like hard work!"

"I don't think the cries were human, Tom," I said.

"Never mind that, Mas'r Harry, they weren't ghosts' cries.  I'll bet
that.  Now, if my old mother was here she'd stick out as it was a spirit
as couldn't--Oh, Mas'r Harry, though, what a horrid screech!" he
whispered, as again a long-drawn, hollow, echoing cry ran through the
passages.

I do not think I'm more timid than most lads would have been at a time
like this; but my hands trembled as I sought for the flint, steel, and
tinder-box, anxious to be out of the darkness that hemmed us in on all
sides, and it was not until I had tried for some time that I was able to
ignite the tinder.

At last, though, the brimstone match was held down to the spot glowing
beneath my breath, the blue flame was succeeded by that of the wooden
splint, and once more our spirits rose as the feeble light of a candle
was reflected from the rocky walls.



CHAPTER TWENTY SIX.

THE AMPHITHEATRE.

We were half numbed with the cold, but I found now that, in spite of our
troubled dreams and its apparent brevity, our sleep must have continued
for a long time, for our clothes were nearly dry.

"Now, then, Mas'r Harry," said Tom, "never mind no shrieks and cries;
let's eat what there is in that bag and drink what there is in that
bottle, and then go on our voyage of discovery.  It will give us
strength for the job, besides being ever so much easier to carry.  If
anything queer comes near us we've got our pistols, so let them look
out."

In spite of the feeling of tremor caused by the mysterious cries I was
eager enough to move, and we began to climb up once more through the
crack, after stepping back to the vault, holding up our candles, and
making sure that by no possibility we had overlooked the raft.

As to its floating away I felt that it would not go very far on reaching
the end of the tunnel, there were too many obstacles in the way in the
shape of great boulders to block up the stream; so that hope of relief
was but faint there even if a search was commenced.

There was no raft in sight; nothing but the strange, troubled water,
ever bubbling and leaping up; and with a shudder, as we thought of the
struggle we had had, we turned away, but not without seeing that the
sand strip was now about half bare.

It was no time for being nervous.  We knew that to live we must find a
means of exit while our candles lasted, so started once more to thread
our way along through the rift and right on to the huge cavern where the
cascade of water came thundering down.

Here we halted for a time to gain breath, and then set to work to
thoroughly explore the place; so we pushed on nearer and nearer, to find
that, as we expected, we could pass right round behind the waterfall,
over the slippery, wet stones, worn into seams, as if at one time the
stream had rushed down them; but no trace of rift or passage could we
find save one small crevice through which it seemed possible that a body
might be squeezed.

"Never mind, Mas'r Harry, that can't be the way; let's try farther round
this other side."

Tom led now and I followed, leaving the cascade behind us, and
thoroughly examining the other side of the amphitheatre, but without
avail; when we sat down, worn out, about opposite to the rift where we
had entered, too disheartened to speak, till Tom said:

"We shall have to try and crawl through that hole, Mas'r Harry--there,
under the waterfall."

"A dog could hardly do it, Tom," I said bitterly, and then I started.
"Stop a moment," I cried.  "That was a regular crack or split in the
rock that we came through, Tom; such a one as might have been made by an
earthquake."

"Sure it was, Mas'r Harry; but you don't think as another one has come
and shut it up, do you?"

"No, no, Tom," I cried, leaping up and forgetting my fatigue; "but why
should not that crack be continued on this side--here, just opposite
where we are?  Come, climb higher with me, and let us have another try."

My thought was a bright one; for far up, just where the side of the
amphitheatre began to curve into the dome which formed the roof, we
found a crack answering to the one through which we entered on the other
side; and squeezing ourselves through, we found that we were in another
narrow passage--so narrow, though, that we proceeded with great
difficulty.

"This must be the way out, Tom," I said.

"Or the way in, Mas'r Harry," said Tom; "one of them two.  Anyhow,
though, we shall soon see."

Not so soon, though, as Tom expected; for we crept on and climbed for
quite a couple of hours, winding and doubling about, before the rift
opened out, sloping, too, at the same time, so that walking became out
of the question; and we climbed slowly down till we lost sight of roof
and sides.  Then on and on, slowly and carefully, where a false step
would have sent us gliding we knew not where; and then we stopped,
aghast, with a fearful chasm at our feet, to awake to the fact that we
had climbed down to the extreme edge of an awful precipice, while, on
holding up our lights, there before us was darkness, black and
impenetrable, above, around, beneath.

The same thought occurred to both, and in a whisper we gave utterance to
that thought together, though in different words.

"Tom, we've come round to another part of the great black gulf."

"Mas'r Harry, this is the same place where we pitched down the big
stone.  Let's try another."

More to prove the truth of our thought than anything else, I assented;
and finding a good-sized lump, Tom hurled it outwards with all his
might, and then we listened as we had listened before, to hear it at
last strike water at a profound depth, with the same roar of echoes to
make us shrink shuddering back.

"It is the same place, Tom," I said, speaking hoarsely, for this was
another damp to our hopes.

There was apparently no chance even of reaching the rocky point where we
had stood the day before, for that point stood out alone, and I could
not see how it could be reached; but in a dull, despondent way, I
thought that we would try to the last; and shrinking back a few yards
from the edge of the precipice, we began to climb along the side, in the
hope of finding some outlet in that direction; for could we but reach
that point by any means we were safe.

Ten minutes' climbing in a state of extreme horror, with the loose
fragments of rock slipping from beneath our hands and feet, to roll
rattling over the edge of the vast chasm, and then we were brought to a
standstill; for there, right in front, was a bare, smooth, perpendicular
wall of rock, inexorable as fate itself.

We turned and began to climb back along the horrid <DW72>, when, with a
sensation of horror that I hardly dare to recall, I felt my legs slip,
my hands, torn, wet, and bleeding as they were, to glide over the stone
to which I clung; and, with a feeble cry for aid to Tom, I gave myself
up for lost.

With a shriek like that which might have been expected to have emanated
from some wild beast, Tom leaped to my side, caught at me, and then,
clinging together, we continued our downward course for what seemed an
interminable length of time, when there was a sudden stoppage.  Tom's
feet rested in a cleft of the rock, and he held me fast, as I lay
gasping, with my legs hanging for some distance over the frightful
chasm.

For full five minutes we did not either of us move, since it seemed that
the slightest attempt to alter our position must result in a plunge into
the darkness yawning to receive us.

One candle was extinguished, but the other lay guttering and flaring
some twenty feet above us, wasting rapidly, and casting its feeble,
weird light upon where we clung.

We neither of us spoke, but softly feeling about, I at length got my
fingers in a chink of rock, which gave me courage to move my legs, so
that at last they rested upon a rough point or knob.  Then, by Tom's
guiding, my other hand found a hole, and by an effort I climbed on to
the <DW72>, to lie panting and waiting for nerve.

Help me Tom could not from his position, and had I not stirred myself I
must have fallen at last; but he had well paid the debt he owed me for
my last night's efforts, as I told him when we had cautiously made our
way back up the <DW72> in a diagonal direction to where the rift opened,
to sink down at last, breathless and thankful, in the narrow way; glad
even to be beyond reach of the influence of the horrible gulf, which had
for me an attraction that was appalling.

We were very quiet now, as we half sat, half lay upon the rocky bottom
of the crack, till our strength was somewhat renewed after our late
efforts, when, dragging myself up, I wiped the clammy dew from my
forehead, and Tom followed my example.

"Tom," I exclaimed, "inaction means death.  Let's try that hole behind
the fall."

"Right, Mas'r Harry," said Tom, essaying to be cheerful.

And without another word he rose, took his candle from the niche in
which he had placed it, and together we made our way back into the
amphitheatre.  Then we climbed over the blocks to behind the fall,
where, going down upon his knees, Tom held his candle in at
arm's-length, and then essayed to creep in at the little opening.

I looked on anxiously as his head and shoulders disappeared, then his
whole body; and I was preparing to follow him when he wriggled himself
back, to face me with a sad shake of the head.

"No good, Mas'r Harry--a baby couldn't go through there."

I took his word, and led the way back till we were clear of the mist
shed by the fall, and then I set to and tried if the great problem of
our escape could not be solved; and at last when all hope was ready to
expire in my bosom the solution came.

We were sitting, sad and dejected, worn by our long toil, when suddenly
we were startled by a shriek similar to those which we had heard upon
our awaking.

Tom pressed close to me, and I must confess to a strange sensation of
awe, as now, one after another, these wild cries came ringing out of the
darkness around.  Now near, now far-off, and fading away as it were,
till one was uttered close by my ear, and I saw a shadowy form sweep
past the light shed by our one poor feeble candle; then another and
another; when, angry with myself for my superstitious dread, I exclaimed
aloud:

"Why, they're birds!"

"Birds they are!" cried Tom gently.  "But are they real birds, Mas'r
Harry?"

"Real? yes, Tom!"  I exclaimed excitedly.  "And there must be some other
way of entrance, for I saw one disappear close by the falling water.
Yes, and there goes another!"  I cried, as I held up the light.  "Tom--
Tom, they are the messengers of life!  There is a way out yet!"



CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN.

A JOURNEY IN THE DARK.

Again the hope which animated our breasts chased away the sense of
depression and fatigue, as, lighting our last candle to obtain a better
light, we clambered as rapidly as we could high up towards where the
water came roaring from its vast culvert, just as with a loud shriek a
bird flew out, like some creature of shadow-land, from a niche which had
hitherto escaped our notice.

The next moment, after a flit round the amphitheatre, it gave another
shriek, and we saw it re-enter the niche and disappear.

That there was an outlet to the upper world there we now had no doubt,
but the question arose which exit presented the least peril--the ascent
to this niche right over the arch of the torrent, or the way back by the
vault of the troubled waters, to swim for our lives down the little
river.

We did not pause long to consider, but, drawing our breath hard, sought
to climb up to where the bird had disappeared.

We needed the activity and power of some animal born to a climbing life,
for it was a terrible task, over slippery, spray-bedewed rocks, that
seemed composed of ice.  Our feet and hands slipped again and again, and
more than once I felt that I must fall upon the bow of that torrent of
inky water, at first by our side, soon right beneath us, and so be
plunged into the seething cauldron below.

I found myself wondering whether, if I did so, my body would be forced
through along some subterranean way to the vault of the troubled waters,
from thence float out slowly along the little river, and so to the mouth
of the cave and the outer sunshine.

Such thoughts were enough to unnerve one; but, bit by bit, we climbed on
in safety, handing the candle from one to the other, and ever and anon
stretching out a helping hand, till, how I cannot tell, we clung at
length right over the falling torrent, with a piece of rock, smooth as
the polishing of ages could make it, between us and the niche, which now
proved to be a good-sized split separating a couple of rocks.

"You go first, Mas'r Harry," Tom whispered, with his mouth close to my
ear.  "I'll stand firm, and you can climb up my shoulders, and then lend
me a hand."

I prepared to start, handing him the one candle we now had alight, when
I gave utterance to a cry of despair; for the linen band which had
crossed my breast, and supported the wallet, had been worn through by
the constant climbing, and I suppose must have broken when I was making
this last ascent.  At all events, the wallet was gone--plunged, I
expect, into the torrent, and bearing with it the flint, steel,
tinder-box, and matches; so that, should any accident befall our one
light, we should be in the horrible darkness of the place.

"Never mind, Mas'r Harry," said Tom.  "It ain't no use crying after
spilt milk.  Up you go, sir."

With failing heart and knitted brow I exerted myself, climbed to Tom's
hips, as he clung to the rock and lighted me; then to his shoulders;
stood there for a moment trembling, and then struggled into the cleft,
turned round, lay down in a horrible position, sloping towards the
torrent, with my head two feet lower than my knees, and then stretched
out my hands to Tom.

"Can't reach, Mas'r Harry," he said, after one or two despairing trials.
"You'll have to go and leave me.  See if you can get out and fetch
help."

For a moment I felt stunned at this unforeseen termination of our
efforts, for there really had seemed hope now, unless this fresh passage
should prove too narrow to let us pass.

I did not answer Tom, but drew myself up again to think; when, taking
off my coat, I rolled it round and round, laid fast hold of the collar,
and then, once more lying down, I lowered the coat to Tom.

"Can you reach that?"  I said.

"No, Mas'r Harry--not by a foot," said Tom gloomily, his words being
shouted, as the roar of the torrent beneath us swept his voice away.

He stood in a position of awful peril: a false step, and he would be
plunged into the torrent; and as I looked down at his upturned face and
the flickering candle, I wondered how I could have ever dared to stand
there myself.

"Can you reach it now?"  I said, lowering myself a little more.

But his answer came in a dull, muffled, despairing monotone:

"No."

I wriggled and shuffled my body a little more forward, forcing my boot
toes into a crevice as I did so, for it seemed that now the slightest
strain would draw me over the precipice.  But there was no other
resource: Tom must have help; and I lay shivering there as, with an
upward spring, the candle between his teeth, Tom clutched my coat, I
shuddering the while, and wondering whether the cloth would give way, or
whether I should be drawn down.

We were looking straight into each other's eyeballs, lit by the
guttering candle, as, with trial after trial, exerting the great
muscular strength in his arms, Tom climbed higher and higher till he
could touch my hands, my arms, and then hold on by my neck, when he
stopped panting, just as, in his convulsive efforts, his teeth met
through the candle, ground through the wick, and the upper portion fell
far below into the torrent to leave us in that awful darkness.

"Hold fast, Mas'r Harry!"  Tom hissed in my ear.  "Crook your hands.
No!  Clasp 'em together, to give me a foothold."

"Tom!"  I groaned, "I'm slipping.  I can hold on no longer."

"A moment--a moment, Mas'r Harry," he cried.

I clasped my fingers together, when, bending his body into a half
circle, he got one foot into my hands, forced himself rapidly up,
staying my downward progress of inch after inch, as the weight of his
body pressed me to the rock; but as he turned to hold me in his turn, it
was just as I felt myself going faster and faster, gliding head
downwards towards the torrent.

Another struggle, and, wet and bleeding, I was by Tom's side, for him to
hold tightly by one of my hands, as with the other he felt his way along
slowly for some yards, when once more we sank upon the rocky floor, to
lie panting, our breath drawn in hysterical sobs, and a darkness around
that was too fearful even to contemplate.

Our despair was such that we could find no words; but at last Tom said,
in a voice that I could hardly hear for the roar of the torrent, which
seemed to be here condensed by the narrow passage:

"Mas'r Harry, I'll go first; follow close behind, and crawl."

His words gave me energy, and we set off, crawling slowly, now upwards,
now downwards, feeling every foot of the way, lest some new peril should
lie in our path.  The roar of the torrent rose and fell as we crept
away, till by slow degrees it became fainter, fading to quite a soft
murmur; but still no new horror assailed us.  The dread darkness was
forgotten in the hope that shed a light into our hearts, as foot by foot
we progressed through what was sometimes a narrow passage, sometimes a
wide vault, as we could tell by the echoing of our voices from its
arched roof.  In one of these, too, our ears were saluted by the shrieks
of birds and the rushing of wings--a fact which told us we could not be
very far from the light of day; but progress was so slow that I often
despaired of seeing that light again.

Often and often I could have lain down and cried like a child, and it
required no weak effort to keep my emotion back.

"Seems to me, Mas'r Harry," said Tom at last, "this is a very big place
we're in, for the more I try about, the less I seem able to get on.
Shall we rest a bit?"

Had Tom said, "Shall we keep on?"  I should have made the same
reply--"Yes."  And then, as we extended our aching limbs upon the soft
soil which covered the floor of the cave in this part, a delicious sense
of tranquillity stole over me, and almost instantaneously I sank into a
deep dreamless sleep.



CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.

TO DAYLIGHT.

How long we lay in that stupor--more than sleep--I cannot tell; but I
was awoke by Tom, and once more we slowly continued our journey, walking
now though--for the absence of fresh perils had given us courage--and
with our arms extended we went slowly on; but ever with the soft earth
of the cave beneath our feet, and the stillness only broken by the
occasional shriek of a bird.

"Say, Mas'r Harry," said Tom after a long silence.  "We are only
wandering here and there without finding the passage to go out."

"I have been thinking so too, Tom," I said, as a thought struck me.
Then loudly--"Look out, and see if you can make out anything when I
fire: the flash may guide us."

Taking out my pistol I fired upwards, when it was as if the whole cave
were being crushed up together--thunder, roar, and bellow, in a
deafening series of echoes--echoes succeeded by the rustling as of ten
thousand wings, and shrieks that were deafening--noises which were quite
a quarter of an hour in subsiding.

"We must be near to an opening, Tom," I said, as soon as I could make
myself heard.

"All right, Mas'r Harry, and I've seen it," he said cheerily.  "This is
a big place, hundreds of feet over, but the passage out lies here; that
firing of the pistol was a good idea of yours."

He took my hand and stepped out boldly.  Then feeling his way with
caution, he exclaimed joyfully that he had found the opening, into which
we stepped, and soon knew by the hollow sound that we were in a rapidly
contracting passage.

From time to time I now flashed off a little powder in the pan of my
pistol, in which instant we were able to see that we were in one of the
riven passages of the cave, similar to those which we had before
traversed; and, faint with hunger, we pressed on, till a distant murmur,
ever increasing, forced itself upon my notice, and in a voice of despair
I exclaimed:

"Oh, Tom, Tom! we are going back, my lad!"

"Mas'r Harry," he exclaimed, "don't be down-hearted.  'Tis so, though;
and I've been thinking it for the past quarter of an hour, but I
wouldn't say it for I wasn't sure.  Never mind, let's turn back.  That's
the big waterfall we can hear, sure enough.  But we can step out bold
now, as we know there's no danger; and when we are in the big place
where we slept, a little powder will show us the way."

A weary walk and we were once more upon the soft earth of the cave where
we had slept--the bird-chamber we called it--when, by means of flashing
off powder, we arrived at a pretty good idea of the size of the place,
and, better still, discovered a fresh outlet.

Danger and disappointment had made me now cautious, and I would not
proceed until, by the expenditure of more powder, we had made sure that
there was no other passage; alarming the birds too, so that they swept
round us like a hurricane.

"Right this time, Mas'r Harry," cried Tom.

Then we were once more on the way, crawling as to pace, as we felt our
way cautiously along.

"If it ever fell out, Mas'r Harry, that we wanted a hiding-place, what a
spot this would be!" said Tom, little thinking that the day was to come
when it should prove the salvation of those who were our truest and best
friends.  "Why, I don't believe there's an Indian ever had the pluck to
come a quarter as far, and we know it now well, every foot of it."

"Except the way out, Tom," I said sadly.

"Oh, that's right enough now, Mas'r Harry," he cried.  "Cheer up: here's
the birds flying along by the score.  Can't you hear their wings
whistle?  They're some of those we frightened out coming back again."

I could hear the soft flap of wings plainly enough, and I could not help
feeling hopeful as we toiled on, till suddenly Tom exclaimed:

"Keep back!"

"What is it?"  I exclaimed, our voices echoing in a way which told us
that the cave had once more opened out.

"My leg goes down as far as I can reach here, Mas'r Harry.  There's a
hole of some kind.  Stop till I flash off a bit of powder."

I stood firm, while Tom was busy for a few moments, during which I heard
the click of his flask.  Then there were sparks as he snapped off his
flint-lock pistol, but for a few times without effect; but at last he
started a train of powder which burned brightly, showing us that we
stood on a ledge some fifty feet above where there was the flash of
water and many a grotesque rock.

"Why, Tom?"

"Why, Mas'r Harry?"

"Down on your knees!"  I cried joyfully as I set the example.

For we were in the first extensive widening out of the cave, at about
five hundred yards from its mouth, having emerged through an opening
hitherto unknown to us from its being upon a ledge forty or fifty feet
above the floor, where in that part it ran on a level with the little
river.

We rose from our knees, weak as two children, and contrived to scramble
down to the bottom, along which we stumbled slowly and without energy
towards the cave's mouth, going back first to where we had left our
guns.  Turn after turn, winding after winding, we traversed, and there
was the faint dawning of light in the distance--light which grew more
and more bright and glorious as we advanced, shading our eyes with our
hands, till, utterly worn out, we sank down close to the entrance
amongst the soft, warm, luxurious sand, when I gazed at the pale,
haggard, blood-smeared face beside me, to exclaim:

"Tom, is that you?"

"Mas'r Harry," he replied hoarsely, "poor Missus wouldn't know you if
she was here."

It was the noon of the third day, we afterwards learned, that we had
spent in these realms of darkness, and never did the bright face of
nature look more glorious than it did to our aching eyes.  But in spite
of the intense sensation of gnawing hunger we could not proceed till we
had rested.  Then after bathing our faces, hands, and feet in the cold
stream, we slowly journeyed to the hacienda.

"Don't say a word about the cave, Tom," I said, as we neared home.

"No, Mas'r Harry, not if you don't wish it," he rejoined, looking at me
wonderingly.

"I have a reason, Tom," I said.  "We can say that we have been
exploring, and that will be true, and will satisfy them."

"You ain't done with the cave yet, then, Mas'r Harry?"

"No, Tom," I said, "not yet."



CHAPTER TWENTY NINE.

A QUESTION.

The look I received from Lilla that evening was one which, while it
reproached me, made my heart leap.  But all the same, I did not respond
to it: I dared not; and I sat there answering my uncle's questions and
telling him of our discovery of the ruined temple, but no more; while
Garcia, who was present, smiled a contemptuous smile that was most
galling.

For that smile seemed to mean so much, and to say, "Look at this crazy
vagabond, how he spends his time!"

I was too weak and ill, though, to resent it, and gladly sought my bed,
which I did not leave for a couple of days, being tended most
affectionately during that time by Mrs Landell.

We had made our entrance to the hacienda by night, as I had wished on
account of our appearance, and it was well we did so, for an inspection
of the clothes I had worn displayed such a scarecrow suit as would have
ensured the closing of any respectable door in my face.

But if, when I rose from my couch, my clothes were worn, so was not my
spirit, and during the long hours I had lain there my brain had been as
active as ever concerning the buried treasures.

The terrors of the cave were great, certainly, but then I reasoned that
three parts of them were due to ignorance.  Had we been acquainted with
the geography of the place, as we were now, and taken common
precautions, we might have saved ourselves the hairbreadth escapes and
agony of mind that had so told upon us--we need not have risked our
lives by the great gulf, nor yet in the vault of the troubled waters.
With a short portable ladder and a knotted rope the ascent to the rift
over the torrent in the great amphitheatre would have been easy.  And
altogether it seemed to me that another visit, well prepared for, would
not be either arduous or terrible.

The visit, of course, would be to search for the treasure; and calm
reflection seemed to teach me that it was very probable that we had now
hit upon the part that appeared likely to have been used for the
purpose--so I thought.  I could not feel that the timid, superstitious
Indians would ever have penetrated so far as we did, but the soft earth
of the bird-chamber seemed, after all, a most likely place.

"What! going again, Mas'r Harry?" said Tom when I broached the subject.

"Yes, Tom," I said; "I want to explore this bird-chamber part of the
cave.  And besides, we need run no risks this time--we need not go into
the terrible parts."

"Very good, Mas'r Harry; only reck'lect about the pitcher as goes so
often to the well getting broken at last."

"But you'll go with me, Tom?"  I said.

"Go with you, Mas'r Harry?  Course I will!  I should just like to catch
you going without me.  Don't you get coming none of them games."

The result of this was that one morning, soon after sunrise, Tom and I
were climbing over the rocks that barred the mouth of the cave.  We had
plenty of provision and plenty of candle.  Each man, too, carried his
own tinder-box and a small coil of knotted cotton rope, which served as
a girdle, and so was not allowed to encumber our movements.

Light-hearted and eager, I led the way, and we pushed right in past the
rift on the ledge which led to the bird-chamber, for we were anxious to
see what had become of our raft.

It was just as I anticipated: we found it self-anchored between two
blocks of stone within fifty yards of the tunnel-arch; and landing it,
we cut the leather thongs, let out the wind, and then hid the whole
affair behind some rocks--in case, as Tom said, we might want it again.

A rest and a slight attack upon the provisions, and we were once more
journeying towards the mouth, but only to pause in the chamber where lay
the opening that had saved our lives.

A little agility took us to the mouth of the rift; and now, candle in
hand, we could see the passage through which we had travelled so
laboriously, to find it the easiest of any crevice we had traversed, the
floor being deeply covered with guano, as was the case with the
bird-chamber when we entered it, at last, to find a vast hall of
irregular shape, swarming with the guacharo, or butter-bird of South
America--a great night-jar, passing its days in these fastnesses of
nature, but sallying out at dark to feed.  The uproar they made was
tremendous, and several times I thought that our lights would be
extinguished, though we escaped that trouble and continued our search.

The floor was nearly level, and the roof, like the others in the cave,
covered with stalactites; but the birds and their nests completely
robbed the place of beauty or grandeur.

An hour spent here convinced me that we knew the two only passages
leading from the place, so we continued our investigations, travelling
along the farther passage till the sound of the great waterfall smote
upon our ears, but still nothing rewarded our search though we went to
the end.

A passage of the most rugged nature, but a passage only, with nothing in
the shape of branch or outlet save into the amphitheatre, into which we
had no desire to penetrate.  Certainly the passage widened out into a
chamber with glistening roof here and there, but with rocky floors, and
presenting nothing striking as likely to reward my search.

At the end of a couple of hours we were back in the bird-chamber (I
continue to call the places by the names that first struck us as
suitable), when we sat down for another rest and time of refreshing, for
we had no peril to dread this time; and now, once more, I began to think
over with damped spirits the possibility of finding what might have been
here concealed.  Treasures, the wealth of nations, might have lain
hidden for ages, with the guano continually accumulating to bury them
deeper and deeper; but were they buried there?

I would try and prove it, at all events; and rousing myself from my
musing fit I took a sharp-pointed rod with which I had come provided,
and began to probe the soil, Tom watching me earnestly the while.

But nothing rewarded my endeavours.  I probed till I was tired, and then
Tom took up the task, but always for the rod to go down as far as we
liked in the soft, yielding earth.

At last I told him to give up, for the possibility of success seemed out
of the question.  Fatigue had robbed me of my sanguine thoughts, and
wearily I led the way back to the mouth of the cave, and we again had a
rest, Tom lighting his pipe, and I gladly seeking the solace of a doze.

Rest and refreshment had their usual effect, and I was soon up again and
at work with the rod, thrusting it down into the sand all over the
place, till in one spot it struck upon something hard, and my heart
leaped; but a little tapping of the hard matter showed that it was
nothing but a mass of rock some four feet below the sand.

I sat down again, hot and ill-tempered; when Tom tapped the ashes out of
his pipe and stood before me.

"Now, what is it you're really after, Mas'r Harry?" he said.  "Not gold,
is it?  Why don't you be open with a fellow?"

"What makes you ask, Tom?"  I said suspiciously.

"Because they do say, Mas'r Harry, that the folks that used to live here
got to bury their stuff, to keep it out of the Don's hands."

Always the same tradition!  But I made no answer, for a fresh thought
had struck me--one of those bright ideas that in all ages have been the
making of men's fortunes; and, leaping up, I seized the rod and ran to
where the stream, inky no longer, but clear and bright, ran sparkling in
the subdued light over its sandy bed towards the open sunshine.

Wading in, I turned up my sleeves and began to thrust my iron probe down
here into the soft sand, for I had argued now like this: that after
carefully considering where would be the best place to hide their
treasure, the priests of old might have been cunning enough to think
that the simpler the concealment the less likely for it to be searched,
and thus with the dim mysterious caverns beyond offering all kinds of
profundities--spots that could certainly be suspected--they might have
chosen the open mouth of the Cave, and buried that which they sought to
save in the bed of the little stream.

The thought seemed to take away my breath for a few moments, it came so
vividly; the next minute I was wading about, thrusting the rod down as
far as I could in the wet sand; but always with the same result--the
iron went down easily to my hand and was as easily withdrawn.

I probed right in as I waded amongst the gloomy parts and then went on
to where it became dark, but still I was not discouraged, but came
slowly back towards where the barrier of rocks blocked the entrance,
down beneath which the little stream plunged to reappear some yards on
the other side; and here in the most open part of all, but screened from
the sight of any one in the valley--here, where the water formed a
little pool beneath the creeper-matted rocks, I gave the rod a hard
thrust down as far as it could be driven, bending so that my shoulder
was beneath the water, when my heart leaped and then beat tumultuously,
for the rod touched something.  I tried again.

Yes, there was something beneath the sand!

Was it rock--stone?

I tried again; tapping with the iron.

No; it was not stone!

Was it metal?

I tried again, after examining the point of the rod, and this time drove
it down fiercely.

Yes, it was metal; but the question to solve was this--

Was it gold?



CHAPTER THIRTY.

FOUND.

My excitement was intense; and all dripping as I was with the icy water,
I leaped out on to the sand with the intention of climbing over the
barrier out into the bright sunshiny vale, to cut a long, thin bamboo
with which to probe the sand in a more satisfactory manner.

Then I stopped short, as the recollection of Tom's words flashed across
my brain.  His surmises might be correct; and, cautious as we had been,
watchers might have seen our goings and comings, while my stepping out
into the vale now to cut a pole would show that I had some particular
object in view.

Another minute, though, and with my mind teeming with thoughts of rich
ingots, plates, and vessels of gold, I began to consider as to what
ought to be my next step.  Without testing further I felt that I had
been successful--that a wonderful stroke of good fortune had rewarded my
efforts; and then, how was I to dig it from its wet, sandy bed and get
it safely to the hacienda?

"Tom," I cried excitedly, "I have not spoken sooner lest you should
think me an empty dreamer; but I have found that which I sought."

"Sure, Mas'r Harry?"

"Well--a--well, yes, nearly, Tom," I stammered, somewhat taken aback by
his coolness; "and now I want you to swear that you will take no unfair
advantage of what you have seen or may see in the progress of this
adventure."

"Want me to do _what_, Mas'r Harry?" said Tom sturdily.

"I want you to swear--"

"Then I ain't a-going to swear, nor nothing of the kind; so you need not
think it.  If I ain't worth trusting send me back; leastwise, you won't
do that, because I sha'n't go.  But, howsoever, I ain't a-going to go
swearing and taking oaths, and, there! be quiet!  Look there, Mas'r
Harry.  Make him swear if you like.  No, not that way, more off to the
left.  Turn your eye just past them three big trees by the lump of rock.
That ain't a deer this time, but some one on the look-out.  Two on 'em,
that there are!"

I glanced in the pointed-out direction, to see plainly that a couple of
Indian heads were strained towards us, as if their owners were narrowly
watching for our appearance; though I knew from the gloom beneath the
arch where Tom was seated that we must be invisible to any one standing
out there in the glow of the bright afternoon sunshine.

What did it mean?  Were these emissaries of Garcia watching my every
act; or were they descendants of the Peruvian priests possessed of the
secret of the buried treasures.

I shrank back farther into the cavern to crouch down, Tom imitating my
acts, and together we watched the watchers, who remained so motionless
that at times I felt disposed to ask myself whether I had not been
mistaken, and whether these were not a portion of one of the rocks.

"It's no good, Mas'r Harry," said Tom; "we must make a rush for it.
They'll stop there for a week, or till we go.  'Tain't nothing new;
there's always some one after you; and if you've found anything I can't
see how you're going to get it away.  Let's go now, before it gets
evening, for they'll never move till we do."

"But the--"

"Well, they ain't obliged to know that we've found that, Mas'r Harry,"
said Tom smiling.  "We don't know it ourselves yet.  What we've got to
do is to play bold, shoot one or two of the birds as they dodge about
farther in, then knock off a few of those pretty bits of white stone
hanging from the roof, and they'll think that we've come after
curiosities."

Tom's advice was so sound that I led the way farther into the cave,
where we made the place echo, as if about to fall upon our heads, as we
had a couple of shots, each bringing down six of the guacharo birds.
Then re-loading, we secured three handsome long stalactites, white and
glittering, and thus burdened we took our departure, walking carelessly
and laughing and examining our birds, Tom stopping coolly to light his
pipe just as we were abreast of where we had seen the Indians.

It was bold if the watchers' intentions were inimical, and we gave
ourselves the credit of having thrown them off the scent, for we saw no
more of them that evening; returning tired and excited to the hacienda
to find my uncle quiet and cordial, for he seemed to be giving me the
credit of trying to break myself off my inclination.



CHAPTER THIRTY ONE.

THE HIDALGO'S DIGNITY UPSET.

That night I forgot all past perils as I dreamed of gold--swimming in
it--rolling in it--for it seemed to possess all the qualities of
quicksilver, and whenever I tried to hold it or sweep it up it all
escaped through my fingers.

I woke at last with a start, with my chest heaving, and my face and
limbs bathed with a cold, dank perspiration.

As far as I could judge it wanted a couple of hours to daybreak; but I
felt too much agitated to try and sleep again.  So rising and hurrying
on my clothes, I sat there, hour after hour, thinking and planning my
future course, for a night's rest had not weakened my convictions.

The determination I came to at last was, that I could not do better than
smother my impatience for a whole week; taking, the while, excursions in
every other direction so as, if possible, to blind any one who made a
study of my movements.  Then my journey to the cavern must be made by
night, armed with spades, and taking with us a couple of mules to bring
home the spoil.

So I mused, little recking of what was to come, till the great golden
sun rose from his glorious bed, when, after lying down an hour for the
sake of the rest, I rose and sought for Tom, to find him indulging in
that bad habit of his, a morning pipe; when I told him my plans, and
also asked him if he thought that we ought to take my uncle into our
confidence.

"Not by no means, Mas'r Harry," he said.

"I may depend on you, Tom, of course?"  I said, "Depend on me, Mas'r
Harry?  Ah!  I should think so.  There never was nobody couldn't stick
to no one no tighter than I'll stick to you.  There won't be no getting
rid of me; so don't never think so no more.  What you say is quite
right, and we'll wait a week.  If no one ain't touched that stuff for
three hundred years they'll leave it alone another week.  I'll be on the
look-out for a couple of mules and spades, and we'll go, like the forty
thieves, to the enchanted cavern, eh, Mas'r Harry?  I'll get 'em, and
we'll put them into the little wood under the mountain-side, eh? and
keep 'em there till it's dark, when we'll start.  A week to-day, or a
week to-morrow?"

"A week to-day, Tom," I said; "and if you'll hang about here, I'll tell
you what time we'll go for a shooting trip."

We had a roam after breakfast, and then, returning to the mid-day meal,
I spent some time about the plantation, when, feeling tired and overcome
with the heat, I went into the house, lay down upon the couch in the
darkened room, and, I suppose, from the effects of past fatigue, soon
dropped off into a sound slumber.

I have some recollection of hearing voices and a low, buzzing sound
that, in my confused state, seemed somehow to be mixed up with gold.
Then it was Lilla's beautiful golden hair, and I was seeing it spread
out and floating once more upon the surface of the river.  Then I was
wide awake, for I had heard Garcia's voice utter my name with an
intensity of bitterness that made me shudder as I rose upon my elbow.

"I tell you he goes to the Indian villages, where there are dark--
skinned maidens.  I know it; and then he comes back here, pretending to
be ill and tired with his travels."

"It is not true!"  I heard Lilla exclaim angrily.  "And if he were here
now--"

"But he is not here now," said Garcia sneeringly.  "He has some
assignation in the moonlit woods with one of his dark beauties, with
fire-flies in her hair and flashing eyes, such as those cold-blooded
Englishmen love."

"It is false!" cried Lilla; "and if he were here you would not dare to
say it."

"Look here!" he said.  "I will be played with no longer.  I have been
calm and patient while this English dog has come in here to insult and
try to supplant me.  He has always been placed before me since the day
he set foot in the plantation.  Your mother is my debtor, and you are
promised to me.  Let there be any more of this trifling, and I will
bring down ruin upon the place.  I have sued gently and tenderly, but it
is useless.  Now I will show you that I am master; promise me now that
you will speak to him no more, or--"

I never knew what threat Garcia would have uttered for just then running
forward I dashed out my clenched fist with all my might, and with a
crash the Don went down over a chair just as my uncle and Mrs Landell
ran into the room.

"What does this mean?" exclaimed my uncle angrily, as Lilla ran,
sobbing, to her mother.

"He struck me!" cried Garcia furiously, as he scrambled up.  "He has
insulted me--a hidalgo of Spain--and I'll have his blood!"

"Better go and wash your face clear of your own," I said contemptuously,
as I suffered from an intense longing to go and kick him.  "He was rude
to my cousin, Uncle, and I knocked him down.  That's all."

With a savage scowl upon his face Garcia made for the door, turned to
shake his fist at me, and he was gone.

"Hal," said my uncle gently--"Hal, my boy, I'd have given a year of my
life sooner than this should have happened.  You don't know these
half-blood Spaniards as I do.  You don't know _what_ mischief may befall
us all through your rashness."

"I wonder that you admit him to your house, Uncle!"  I exclaimed hotly,
for anger was getting the better of discretion.

I was sorry, though, the next minute; for, on hearing my words, my uncle
glanced in a troubled way at his wife, who was trying to soothe poor
weeping Lilla; while, during the next hour, I learned that I had had the
misfortune to strike down the man who was my uncle's creditor to a large
amount, as he had been Mrs Landell's, or they would not have allowed
his attentions to Lilla.

"I'm ashamed of it all, my boy," said my uncle; "but he holds our future
entirely in his hands, and he looks for the receipt of Lilla's little
dowry as part payment of the debts.  I've struggled very hard against
ruin, Hal, and now it seems that it must come.  But after all, I don't
know that I'm sorry, for it would have been a cruel thing--like selling
that poor child.  But when a man is embarrassed as I am, what can he do?
And besides, we both thought at one time that Lilla had a leaning
towards him.  It was when he seemed to come forward generously with his
money, which I was foolish enough to take.  But there, let it pass; and
I repeat, mind, Hal, that I cannot allow matters to go on between you
and Lilla.  All will be at an end with Garcia, I suppose, and we shall
have to turn out; but I cannot encourage you.  I must begin again, I
suppose."

"Uncle," I said, "I am deeply grieved that my coming should work such
evil in the place," for my anger had now evaporated.  "I ask your pardon
for bringing such trouble upon your house.  I could not help loving
Lilla; to see her was to do that; and even now, if I saw that fellow
brutally using his strength against her, I should feel obliged to strike
him."

"Things must take their course, Harry," said my uncle; "and I don't know
that, after all, I am very much grieved.  We have seen the man now in
his true colours, and I learn that one of those colours is that which is
worn by a coward.  But while you stay, Harry, beware!  Garcia has sworn
that he'll have your blood, and he will!"

"Yes, Uncle," I said quietly, "if he can!"

"Just so, Harry; but take care."

"I'll be on my guard, Uncle," I replied.

And then I left him to go and think, my pulses throbbing as I thought of
the exciting turn my adventures were taking--the event of the last
hour--my discovery, if such it could be called; and I longed for the
time when I could put it to the proof.



CHAPTER THIRTY TWO.

NOT QUITE.

The time glided on, and I saw no more of Garcia; but, all the same, I
could not help feeling that this calm might portend a storm.

My uncle was evidently very uneasy; but he said no more, merely
proceeding with his business as usual, while with Tom I took trips here
and there, making myself certainly now no burden, for we returned each
evening loaded with game of some description--deer, fowl, or fish.

The first two days I saw at different times that we were followed; but
afterwards it seemed that the spies, self-constituted or not, had given
up their task, and that we were free to roam the forest as we pleased.

I grew hopeful upon making this discovery, and longingly looked forward
for the night of our great adventure.

It seemed as if that night would never come, but it came at last.

Instead of going to my bed-room I stole out directly I had seen my uncle
take his last cigar; and knowing that my absence would not be noticed, I
made my way to the appointed place.

It was excessively dark--a favourable omen, I thought; and on reaching
the little wood there was Tom smoking his pipe, with the bowl inside his
jacket, though, had the ruddy glow been seen at a distance, it might
easily have been taken for the lanthorn of a fire-fly.

"Seen any one, Tom?"  I whispered.

"Not a soul, sir."

"Have you got all we want?"

"I believe you, Mas'r Harry.  Two spades, two mules, plenty to eat and
drink, plenty of powder and lead, and coffee-bags enough--brand-new ones
of your uncle's--to put in all the treasure we shall find."

I could not see Tom's face, but I felt sure that he was indulging in a
good grin.  However, I said nothing; but enjoining caution, we each took
the bridle of a mule and began to thread our way cautiously amongst the
trees, taking the precaution of setting off in an opposite direction to
that we intended afterwards to pursue.

It was a strange and a weird journey, but we went on hour after hour,
and nothing molested us.  About midnight we halted to let the beasts
graze for half an hour in a grassy vale, while we did what Tom called
the same; our pasture being cake, and our drink spirit and water.

Refreshed by our short halt, we again journeyed, and from time to time,
after giving Tom the bridle of my mule, I stayed back to listen and try
to discover whether we were followed; but, save the cry of some beast,
there was nothing to be heard.

About two hours after midnight we struck the little stream, and soon
after were well in the ravine, when, for the purpose of exercising
greater caution, and, as Tom said, running the risk of being stung, we
each took the bridle of our mule over one arm and went down on all
fours, crawling forward; and so slow was our progress that, were we
watched and a glimpse of us obtained, I felt certain that we must be
taken for a little herd slowly grazing towards the mouth of the great
cavern.

We reached the rocky pass at last, and then, muffling the feet of the
mules with the coffee-bags, we took them cautiously on--the intelligent
beasts clambering carefully and with hardly a sound--when we led them
right in for some distance, gave them the maize we had brought, and then
sat down in the darkness listening to their crunching of the grain and
the loud cries of the guacharo birds as they flew in and out, fortifying
ourselves the while with a hearty meal--Tom foregoing his pipe for
reasons of cautious tendency.

According to my calculations the day would break in about an hour's
time; and during that hour, but always on the alert, we stretched
ourselves upon the sand to rest, listening to every sound; for there was
the possibility, we knew, of there being enemies, biped or quadruped,
within a few yards of where we rested.

Towards daybreak it turned intensely cold--colder than I could have
imagined possible in a tropic land; but we were prepared to bear cold as
well as danger, for a fire would, of course, have been inviting
observation.

Day at last; with a glorious flush of light reaching down the valley,
and making the stalactites on the roof to glisten.  But our ideas now
were bent on the object we had in view, and nature's magnificence was
unnoticed.

As soon as the light had penetrated sufficiently, we led the mules
farther in, and secured them in the broad passage, so that they could
reach the water of the stream; our next step being to creep cautiously
to the rocky barrier, and, well sheltering ourselves, to watch long and
carefully for some sign of spies.

We did so for a full hour, but the silence of the place was even awful.
Then the grey dawn brightened into the sweet fresh morning, with the
heavy dew glistening in the sunshine as it dripped from the great tropic
leaves--otherwise all was still; and convinced at length that those who
had hitherto dogged our steps had for this time been eluded, I made a
sign to Tom; and going in about fifty yards, we seized our spades and
began to throw the light soil and sand into the bed of the little
stream, shovelful after shovelful, so as to form a dam, which was at
first washed down nearly as fast as we piled it up; but at last our
efforts were successful, and the dammed-up water began to flow aside,
cutting for itself a new channel through the sand, and making its exit a
few feet nearer the rocky barrier, but taking up its former course on
the other side.

We rested then for a few minutes, faint and hot; but the excitement of
the quest took from us the sense of fatigue, for the water had all
drained away from the bed of the stream, and the little pool close under
the rocky barrier now presented the appearance of a depression whose
bottom was covered with a beautifully clean sand.

I had come provided this time with a longer rod, and, taking it in my
trembling hands, I stood for a few moments upon the sand, anxious, but
dreading to force it down lest it should be to prove that I had been
deceived by my over-sanguine nature.

Then, rousing myself, I thrust the rod down, when, at the depth of four
feet, it came in contact with some obstacle.

Drawing it up I tried again and again, Tom eagerly watching the while,
as I proved to a certainty that there was something buried in the sand,
extending over a space of about three feet by two, while elsewhere I
could force the rod down to the depth of over five feet without let or
hindrance.

"Try yourself, Tom," I said hoarsely, as I passed to him the rod, which
he seized eagerly, and thrust down; while trembling with excitement I
cautiously climbed the barrier, beneath which lay the hole, and peered
over the rocks into the valley.

Not a leaf moving--all hot and still in the morning sun; and I returned
to Tom.

"Well?"  I said eagerly.

"Well," echoed Tom; "I should think it is well!  There _is_ something
buried here, Mas'r Harry, and it ain't rocks, nor stones, nor wood.  I
fancy it's a lead coffin, for it feels like it with the point of the
rod."

"Nonsense!"  I said impatiently.  "There would be no lead coffins here,
Tom."

"We'll see, anyhow, Mas'r Harry," he exclaimed.  And seizing a spade he
began to hurl the sand out furiously.  "There's a something down here,
that's certain," he panted out between the spadefuls, "but what it is
goodness knows.  All I can say is that it's a something."

"Let me come too, Tom," I cried excitedly.

"No, I shan't, Mas'r Harry!" he exclaimed.  "There ain't room for both
of us to work at once, and we shall only be tripping one another up.
Let me work a spell, and then you can take a turn."

Tom dug away at a tremendous rate, the wet sand cutting out firmly and
easily, and soon the hole grew deep and wide, when, suddenly resting,
Tom looked up at me.

"Say, Mas'r Harry," he said, just as I leaped down into the hole, "go
and see if there's anybody coming."

"No," I said, looking at him suspiciously; "go you."

"Course I will, Mas'r Harry!" he exclaimed.  "But say, what a s'picious
sort of a fellow you do get."

Then, jumping out, he took his turn at inspecting the ravine, peering
cautiously through the creepers that covered the rocks, while I toiled
hard at the spade, throwing up the wet sand.

"Don't throw no more this side, Mas'r Harry," said Tom on his return.
"Pitch it the other way.  It's been falling into the water and making it
thick, so as it will go running down and telling everybody as we're at
work in here."

Tom's words made me leap out of the hole.

"Gracious, Tom!"  I exclaimed, "what a fool I am!"

"Well, Mas'r Harry," said Tom bluntly, "I did think as you was just now,
over that s'picion o' yourn; but as to throwing the sand into the water,
why, one can't foresee everything.  I don't think there's any harm done,
though."

"I beg your pardon, Tom," I exclaimed, holding out my hand, "it was
ungenerous."

"All right, Mas'r Harry," he said, taking my hand awkwardly, as if I had
given him something to look at, and then he seemed to give it to me back
again, when, once more turning to our task, we threw out the sand close
under the rocky barrier, and it was well we did so, as will be seen in
the end.

"There's something here.  I can feel it with my spade, Mas'r Harry,"
exclaimed Tom suddenly.

And then, moved by the same tremulous nervous feeling as myself, he
leapt out, and together we once more searched the vale with our eyes, to
see nothing, though, but the same flagging leaves and the quivering
motion of the bright transparent air.  But as we descended once more, a
snorting, whinnying noise from the mules came from within, and in our
excitement and alarm we were about to thrust in the sand again to bury
our treasure, only reason told us of the folly of the act.

Spade in hand we ran into the gloom, and followed the winding of the
track to where the mules were tethered, to find them uneasy and
straining at their halters, as if something had alarmed them.



CHAPTER THIRTY THREE.

MICA OR GOLD.

"Ah! there's some one about, Mas'r Harry, I'm 'fear'd," whispered Tom.
"I wish we'd covered the stuff up again.  What do you say to taking a
light and going right in?"

Tom's advice seemed so sensible that we ran back, fetched a candle and
the matches, got a light, and then carefully examined the cave, peering
wherever it seemed possible for any one to hide.

But our search was in vain, though we penetrated right to the point on
the great gulf, and peered into the dark arch.  As far as we could see
all was silent, solemn, and grand, and we had nothing to fear from
behind us while we worked.

"Well, it's been a deal of bother, Mas'r Harry; but it's better than
thinking every moment that there's some one going to jump out on you."

The mules were quiet as we passed them on our way back, and we then
inspected the valley from the spot we called our observatory, but all
was still; and hastily seizing a spade, I was once more digging away,
Tom casting aside the sand I threw out.

The edge of the spade touched something now every time I thrust it in.
I had but to stoop and force in my fingers to feel the buried object;
but moved by that spirit which induces people to examine so carefully
the outside of a strange letter, when the interior is at their disposal,
I feasted expectancy for a few minutes longer, telling myself that I
would carefully clear out all the sand before I tried to ascertain what
our treasure might be.

That was an exciting period, and I can picture it all even now: the
great cave, with its vast arch protruding right over the barrier, so
that we were toiling in the shadow of the huge vault, filled by day with
an ever-deepening golden mellow gloom--a gloom deepening into blackness
in the far depths; the trickling water, fresh from its mysterious source
in the great amphitheatre; our splashed and stained figures, toiling
together now in the pit we had dug; and the friendly scuffle which took
place when, the sand being well cleared out, Tom stooped, but only to be
arrested by my hand.

"No," I exclaimed, "let me, Tom!"

Then, with painfully throbbing heart I bent down, the blood seeming to
flush to my head so as to nearly blind me.

The next moment my fingers were groping about amongst the sand and
water.

"Be quick, Mas'r Harry, please, or I shall bust!" cried Tom, just as my
fingers encountered something hard.

With a cry of joy I rose up, to exhibit to the staring eyes of Tom Bulk
a glittering yellow stone.

"Gold, Tom--gold!"  I exclaimed.  "And here's more and more!"

I stooped down, to bring up two, three, four more lumps of the same
glittering yellow stone.

"No, 'tain't, Mas'r Harry," said Tom, gruffly, as he turned over one of
the fragments in his hand.  "That ain't gold at all; that's what they
calls mica.  I allers reclect the name, cause it's the same as one of
the prophets we used to read about at school.  You might get plenty of
that in the rocks, without much trouble.  It's just the same stuff as
some mates of mine once got out of a gravel pit at home, and they took
it to the watchmaker in the town, and they says to him, `What's that
gold worth?' they says.  `Which gold?' he says.  `Why, that,' they says.
`That's no more gold than you are,' he says; `that's mica.'  And then
he told them that they might allers tell gold in a moment, by pulling
out a knife and trying to cut it, when if it was gold it would cut easy
like, just the same as a piece of lead.  Try that, Mas'r Harry."

Snatching out my knife, I cut at one of the pieces of yellow stone, to
find it splinter under the keen edge of my blade.

"I'll swear, though, that the pynt of that rod hit something else
besides them bits of stone, Mas'r Harry.  Try again; or, no--let me
try."

The disappointment was so keen, that for a few moments I was speechless,
and offered no opposition to Tom, who began to grope about with both
hands to bring up dozens more pieces of the micaceous rock, and then a
piece of flint that seemed to have been chipped into shape, and then a
long obsidian blade.

"We're a-coming to something after all, Mas'r Harry," said Tom.  "Here's
a cur'osity, and here--here--here's--pah!  I don't like handling them."

As he spoke, Tom held out to my view three or four blackened bones,
which he threw down again amongst the sand and water at the bottom.

"We shall come to the leaden coffin after all, Mas'r Harry," he said.
"This has been a berryin' place after a fight, p'r'aps; but is it worth
while to disturb it?"

I did not answer, for my attention had been taken up by a slight sound
towards the interior of the cave.

"Here, quick, Tom!"  I exclaimed.

He leaped out in an instant, just as, with a fierce rush, the pent-up
water conquered our little dam, took to its old bed, and swept down sand
and soil, filling up our pit in a few minutes as it bore all before it,
and then subsided quietly into its former course, the sand sucking up
the moisture where it had levelled; and to a casual observer the cave
seemed as if it had been untouched for ages.

"Well that's pleasant, certainly," said Tom coolly; "but 'taint so bad
as it might have been.  We haven't got wet.  Never mind, Mas'r Harry,
we'll have it out again by-and-by.  There's more in that hole yet than
we have seen.  Them bits of yaller stuff weren't put in for nothing.
But let's go up again to the prog and have a good feed before we begin
again; and, suppose you bring your spade?"

I followed Tom mechanically, spade in hand, to where, behind a mass of
rock, we had made our storehouse, and seating ourselves in the gloomy
shade I was busily opening my wallet, when Tom, who was getting some
maize for the mules, suddenly pressed my shoulder and pointing in the
direction of the cave's mouth, I heard him whisper the one word:

"Look!"

I looked, with my eyes seeming to be glued to the spot, as slowly there
appeared above the rugged line formed by the top of the rocky barrier a
human head, another, and another, with intervals of a dozen yards
between each; and then they remained motionless, gazing straight forward
into the great cavern.



CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR.

OUR WORK RENEWED.

Could they see us, or could they not?

It was a hard trial sitting there motionless, wondering whether those
eager, searching eyes could penetrate as far through the gloom as where
we sat.  It seemed they could not, as, for full ten minutes, their
owners rested there peering over the massive rocks.

The least movement on our part, a whinny or a snort from the mules,
would have been sufficient to have betrayed our whereabouts, and
bloodshed would, perhaps, have followed; but all remained still, save
once, when I heard Tom's gun-lock give a faint click just as first one
and then another head was being withdrawn.

"There, Mas'r Harry," said Tom in a whisper.  "What do you think of
that?  They're on the look-out for us you see.  And we got grumbling
about the little dam breaking, when what did it break to do?  Why, to
smooth over the rough work we had done, so as those copper-<DW52>
gentlemen shouldn't see it and make a row.  But, say Mas'r Harry, I
a'most wonder they didn't see the water look thick.  P'r'aps they will
yet, so I wouldn't move."

Tom's advice was so good that we sat for quite a couple of hours, when I
told him of the plans I had made.

"Tom," I said, "it was an act of folly for us to be working there
without one of us watching.  I tell you what we must do, we must rest
till it begins to grow dusk, and then begin working in the dark.  Do you
see?"

"Well, I can see now, Mas'r Harry," said Tom grinning; "but I don't see
how I'm going to see then.  How so be: just as you like.  I'm ready when
you are."

The afternoon passed, the sun disappeared behind the mountains, and the
dark shadows began to fall, just as with a loud shriek bird after bird
winged its way out of the cavern for its nightly quest of food.  We
stole to the barrier, looked long and cautiously down the valley, and
then set to work in the dim and fast-fading light to dam the stream--
this time taking the precaution to lay lumps of rock and stalactites in
the bed to support our embankment of sand and earth; when once more the
stream took another course, the bed was dry, and in silence we stepped
down to the site of our former labours.

I was not so sanguine now of the toil proving remunerative; but from the
little knowledge I possessed of the Indian's superstitious character I
felt pretty sure that they would not venture by night to a cavern whose
interior was clothed by them with endless mysterious terrors, though it
possessed terrors enough, as we well knew, without the aid of
superstition.  But all the same, there was the chance of others having
an object in watching us, so every spadeful was thrown out in silence,
every word spoken in a whisper.  The night came on impenetrably black
and obscure, but we worked on, feeling our way lower and lower, taking
turn and turn, till once more we stood in the pit we had dug, and
commenced groping about with our hands, for the spades told us that we
had come to whatever was buried.

"More of these yaller stones," said Tom.

We threw out as quietly as we could a couple of hundred rough lumps
about the size of those fragments of granite used for macadamising a
modern road.

"Tom," I said, after trying about with my spade, "there's something more
here.  I believe those pieces were put in to deceive whoever searched."

"Let me clear out a little more of the sand, Mas'r Harry."

He threw out a few more spadefuls, filling the spade each time with his
hands so as to throw out nothing more than sand; and then once more we
began to feel about.

"What's that, Tom?"  I whispered hastily.

I knew by his exclamation that he had found something particular.

"Nothin' at all," said Tom sulkily.

"I insist upon knowing what it is," I cried angrily, as I caught him by
the arm.

For--it must have been the influence of the gold--I again felt
suspicious.

"There it is, then," said Tom gruffly, "ketch hold."

I eagerly took that which he had handed to me, and then with a shudder
of disgust hurled it away, as the gravedigger scene in "Hamlet" flashed
across my mind; and then we worked on in silence.

"Bones," said Tom, "flint-knife things, and, hallo! what's that you've
got, Mas'r Harry?" he exclaimed in a sharp whisper.

In my turn I had uttered an exclamation as my hands came in contact with
a flat heavy piece of metal, which, upon being balanced upon a finger
and tapped, gave forth a sonorous ring.

"I don't know, Tom," I whispered huskily, "but--but it feels like what
we are in search of."

"Do you think it is gold, Mas'r Harry?" he hissed in a voice that told
of his own excitement.

"Gold or silver, Tom," I said in a choking voice.

Then I felt faint.  Suspicions of a horrible nature seemed to float
across my brain.  "Suppose," I thought, "Tom should murder me now to
possess himself of the treasure, load the mules, and then bury me in the
grave we had dug.  The water would flow over it again in a few hours,
and who would ever suspect the man who went away laden with wealth?"

The next moment, though, I had driven away the base thoughts, and was
leaning against the rock above me.

"Tom," I said, "I'm faint; go and fetch the spirits."

"I will that, Mas'r Harry," he whispered, "for I don't know how it is,
I'm feeling rather queer myself.  It's this stuff, I think.  I've got
hold of one of these little tiles, and one can't see it, but it feels
yaller."

Tom passed another plate into my hands, when running my fingers over it
my heart beat more rapidly, for I could feel an embossed surface that
told of cunning work, and I longed intensely to get a light and examine
what we had found though I knew such a proceeding would be folly.

In a few minutes Tom was back, and a draught from the bottle we had
brought revived us, so that we quickly cleared out the wet sand and
water that kept filtering in, and then as fast as we could grope drew
out plate after plate and placed them in one of the coffee-bags Tom had
brought.

We did not need telling that it was gold.  The sonorous ring told that
as plate touched plate.  The darkness, as I said, was intense.  But I
could almost fancy that a bright yellow phosphorescent halo was spread
around each plate as we drew it from its sandy bed.

"But suppose, Mas'r Harry, as it's only brass?" whispered Tom suddenly.

"Brass, Tom?  No, it's gold--rich, yellow gold; and now who dares say
I'm a beggar?"

"Not me, Mas'r Harry.  But I won't believe it's gold till I've seen it
by daylight.  'Tain't lead, or it wouldn't ring.  'Tain't iron, for it
will cut.  I've been trying it."

"Hush, Tom!"  I said hoarsely.  "Work--work! or it will be day, and we
shall be discovered."

As I spoke I bent down into the hole to drag out what felt like a vase,
but all beaten in and flattened.  Then another, and four or five
curiously shaped vessels.

"Fetch another bag, Tom," I whispered; for the one we now had felt
heavy, and I wanted them to be portable.

"Wait a bit, Mas'r Harry," whispered Tom.  "Here's a rum un here--big as
a table top.  Lend a hand, will you."

Both trembling with excitement we toiled and strained, and at last
extricated a great flat circular plate that seemed to weigh forty or
fifty pounds, and stood it against the rock.

And now in the wild thirst I forgot all about bags or concealment as we
kept scraping out the sand and water, and then brought out more plates,
more cups, thin flat sheets, bars of the thickness of a finger and six
inches long.  Then another great round disc similar to the one I had
dragged out with Tom; and then--then--sand--water--sand--water--sand--
one solitary plate.

"There must be more, Tom!"  I whispered excitedly.  "Where is the rod?"

He felt about for a few minutes, and I heard the metal clinking upon
metal as he drew the iron rod towards him.  Then, feeling for the
pointed end, he thrust it down here and there again and again.

"Try you, Mas'r Harry," he said huskily.

I took the rod, and felt with it all over the pit; but everywhere it ran
down easily into the sand, and I felt that we must have got all there
was hidden there.  And now, for the first time, I began to think of the
value.  Why, if this were all pure gold that lay piled-up by our side,
there must be thousands upon thousands of pounds' worth--twenty
thousands at the least.  But a pang shot through my brain the next
instant, for the thought had struck me, suppose it should prove but
copper after all.

The day would show it, and the day I hoped would soon be there.  But now
a new trouble assailed me.  What about Tom--what share would he expect?

"Mas'r Harry," said Tom just then, "if this here all turns out to be
gold you'll be a rich man, won't you?"

"Yes, Tom," I said, "very wealthy."

My words would hardly leave my lips.  "Then you'll do the handsome thing
by me when I get married, won't you, Mas'r Harry?"

"What shall I do, Tom?"  I said, wondering the while what he would say.

"'Low me a pound a week and my 'bacco as long as I live."

"Yes, Tom, two if you like," I exclaimed aloud.  "But now lend a hand
here and let's get these behind the rock farther in."

Fatigue!  We never gave that a thought, as, each seizing one of the
round shields, we carried them cautiously in and felt our way to where
was the food, taking back with us more of the coffee-bags, in which we
carefully packed the flattened cups, and each bore back a heavy bag, but
only hastily to return again and again to collect the plates, and
sheets, and bars we had rapidly thrown out; when we returned once more
to throw ourselves upon the sand and feel over it with our hands again
and again, creeping in every direction, forcing in our fingers and
running the sand through them till we felt certain that nothing was left
behind.

"Now, then, Tom," I said.  "Quick!--the spades.  There must not be a
trace of this night's work left at daybreak."

Tom's hard breathing was the only response, as, seizing his spade and
giving me mine, he forced back the sand, helping me to shovel it in
until the floor was once more pretty level, and we knew the water would
do the rest, even to removing the traces of our running to and fro,
unless the sharp Indian eye should be applied closely to the floor of
the cavern.

We toiled on, working furiously in our excitement, feeling about so as
to compensate as well as we could for the want of sight, till I knew
that no more could be done, when, retreating inward to where we had
dammed the stream, we let the water flow swiftly back into its old
channel, leaving the bits of rock where they were, save one or two whose
loosening soon set the water free, so that it swept with a rush over the
place where we had so lately toiled; and then, dripping with
perspiration and water, we went and sat down to eat and rest just as the
first faint streaks of dawn began to show in the valley, and we could
see that there was a barrier across the mouth of the cave.



CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE.

EXCITING TIMES.

Light--more light, but still not enough to tell of what our treasure was
composed.  If we had been at the mouth of the cave it would have been,
possible, but where we were the darkness was still thick darkness.

Twice I had impatiently gazed at the metal I had been fingering with all
a miser's avidity, when my attention was taken by an object upon a rock
close by where we had worked during the night--a toil that I had been
ready to declare a dream, time after time, but for the solid reality
beneath my hands.

Tom caught sight of the object at the same moment as myself; and
together, moved by the same impulse, we raced down, secured it, and then
ran panting back with a gloriously-worked but battered _golden_ cup,
that we had placed upon the rock above us, and which had thus escaped
our search.

The next minute we were gazing tremblingly back to see whether we had
been observed, for to lose now the wondrous treasure in our grasp seemed
unbearable.

But no--all was still; and, for my part, I could do nothing but pant
with excitement as the truth dawned more upon me with the coming day,
that I was by this one stroke immensely rich.  The treasure was gold--
rich, ruddy gold, all save one of the great round shields, and that was
of massive silver, black almost as ink with tarnish; while its
fellow-shield--a sun, as I now saw, as I afterwards made out the other
to be a representation of the moon--was of the richer metal.

I was right, then--Garcia could be set at defiance, my uncle freed.  But
it was all too good to be true; and that little If thrust itself into my
thoughts--that little If that has so much to do with our lives.

_If_ I could get the gold safely away!

My brow knit as I thought of this, and my hand closed involuntarily upon
the gun; but directly after I felt that we must bestir ourselves to pack
our treasure safely.

"Let us have something by way of breakfast, Tom," I said hastily, after
throwing my coat over the part of the treasure visible.

We ate as people eat whose thoughts are upon other things, till we were
roused by a whinnying from the interior of the cave, when Tom hastily
carried some maize to the mules so as to ensure their silence in case of
the Indians again approaching the place.

As far as I could make out from the obscurity where I was there was not
a trace of the sand having been disturbed--the water had removed it all;
but I trembled as I thought of the consequences of some Indian eye
having seen the golden vessel, for I knew that we should never have been
allowed to return alive.

My plans now were to spend a portion of the day in carefully packing our
treasure as compactly as possible, and then, when night had well fallen,
loading the mules and making the best of our way to the hacienda--easy
practicable plans apparently; but Fate declared that I had not yet
earned the wealth.

I said that Tom had gone to see about the mules, and for a few minutes I
was hesitating about the nearest bag to me--one which, from the feel,
contained a mixture of bars, plates, and cups, that I knew might be
packed in a quarter the space.

I looked to the mouth of the cave; all was sunshine there; but it was
dark where I stood, and feeling that if the task of packing was to be
done, the sooner it was set about the better, I seized the bag, drew out
a large and massive vessel, two or three plates that must have formed a
part of the covering of some barbaric altar, and was about to draw forth
more, when I heard a faint noise, and, turning, Tom sprang upon me with
a fierce look in his countenance, bore me down amongst the treasure, and
laid his hand upon my mouth.  His whole weight was upon me, and he had
me in such a position that all struggling seemed vain; but with the
thought strong upon me that the temptation of the gold had been too much
for him, and that as some victim had evidently been sacrificed at its
burial I was to fall at its disinterring, I bowed myself up, and the
next moment should have endeavoured to throw him off, had not his lips
been applied to my ear and a few words been whispered which sent the
blood flowing, frightened, back to my heart, as the full extent of their
meaning came home.

"Mas'r Harry, don't move: you're watched!"

It was no time for speaking, and I was in such a position that I could
not see, while for quite a quarter of an hour we lay there motionless,
when, gliding aside, Tom made room for me to rise, pointing the while
towards the mouth of the cave, through which I could see, some distance
down the ravine, a couple of Indians curiously peering about, and more
than once stooping cautiously over the little stream which there ran,
half-hidden by rocks and undergrowth.

"They're looking to see if the water's muddy, Mas'r Harry," whispered
Tom.  And then, directly after, "Creep back a little more behind the
rock here; they're coming this way again."

What! step back and leave the treasure?  No, I felt that I could not do
that, but that I would sooner fight for it to the last gasp.

Tom was right, though.  The Indians were coming nearer, disappearing at
length behind the rocks at the mouth as they came cautiously on; and I
lay down flat upon my face to watch for their appearance above the
barrier when they began to climb it, Tom retiring the while farther into
the cavern.

Two men, not such odds as need give us fear if we were compelled to
fight; for after the pains to attain the treasure, it seemed impossible
to resign it.  My conscience would not teach me any wrong-doing in its
appropriation.

Ten minutes elapsed, and the Indians did not appear; but it was plain
enough that they knew of the treasure's existence, and watched over its
safety.  But had they seen us come?

I thought not, as at last they came slowly up, looking from side to
side, as if in search of intruders; and my heart beat with a heavy
excited throb as I thought of the discovery, and the inevitable struggle
to follow.  Who would be slain I wondered.  Should I escape?  And then I
shuddered as I pictured the bloodshed that might ensue.

And all this time nearer came the Indians, until they stood amongst the
blocks of stone, peering eagerly in, and shading their eyes to pierce
the darkness.

For a few minutes it seemed to me that they must see that the soil had
been disturbed, or else make out my crouching form; but it soon became
evident that they saw nothing--that the cavern presented no unusual
aspect.  As far, too, as I could make out, there was an evident
unwillingness to enter, as if the place possessed some sanctity or dread
which kept them from passing its portals.

They seemed to be content with watching and listening; but would they
keep to that?

I thought not; for suddenly my breath came thickly, as I saw one of the
men make a sign or two to his companion, and then begin cautiously to
descend into the cavern; when, nerving myself for the struggle, I
stretched out my hand for my knife and pistols, determined to fight to
the death for that which I had won.

Cautiously, and in a peculiarly shrinking fashion, the Indian climbed
down, while his companion leaned anxiously forward.  Then followed
moments of suspense that seemed hours, as the man who now stood beneath
the arch stretched forth both hands, as if invoking some power, uttered
a few words, and then stopped short, for his companion gave a loud
peculiar cry, and I saw that he was anxiously gazing down the ravine,
when the first Indian hurriedly joined him, and, together, they glided
silently away.

"That was a close shave, Mas'r Harry," said Tom, creeping softly
forward, gun in hand.  "That poor chap didn't know what a risk he run of
being dead and buried.  I had him covered with my gun the whole time;
and if he'd made at you with his knife, down he must have gone."

"I want the gold, Tom," I said hoarsely, "but no bloodshed."

"More don't I, Mas'r Harry," he replied; "so all they've got to do is to
leave us alone, and alone we'll leave them.  Now, what's to be done
next?"

That was plain enough, and needed no answering.  The treasure had to be
carefully packed; and together we worked hard, fitting the plates, bars,
and tile-shaped pieces together in the bags, so that they should occupy
as little space as possible, binding together and covering the two great
discs, and then packing the vases and cups, the most awkward part of our
discovery; but at last we had all in the ample supply of coffee-bags Tom
had brought, and bound round and round with the cotton ropes which we
unravelled for the purpose.

I breathed more freely as one by one we carried our heavy,
awkward-looking packages into the part of the cave where the mules were,
and then laid them behind a rock in the dark vault, ready for the
night's journey.

"And now," said Tom, "we'd better take it in turns to have a good sleep,
the other keeping watch--for we shall be up all night again."

I turned round to Tom, to stare with astonishment at the man who could
talk so coolly about sleep with such a treasure beneath his charge.  As
for me, my veins throbbed with the fever that coursed through them, and
I could not have closed my eyes for an instant till I had my treasure in
safety.

"Will you take first turn, Mas'r Harry?" said Tom, yawning.

"No," I said peevishly; "you can sleep if you wish to."

"Well, Mas'r Harry, I do wish to," said Tom; "and that ain't nowise
wonderful, when I was hard at work all lars night."

Tom made no more ado, but stretched himself out in the sandiest spot he
could find; and the next minute there could not be a doubt as to the
state he was in, for he snored loudly.

Judging from appearances, when I once more walked, gun in hand, towards
the mouth of the cave, it was about four o'clock, so that there were at
least five or six hours to pass before we could attempt our homeward
journey.

I did not dare to go far towards the mouth, lest there should be
watchers there; but picking out the best spot for observation, I stood
and gazed eagerly around, scanning every crag, tree, and bush within
range, in the search I made for enemies.

If I could only get the treasure safely to the hacienda, we could melt
it down there, and turn it into ingots handy for packing; when, with the
offer of ample for the purchase of a good farm, I could, perhaps,
persuade my uncle to return to England, or, if he preferred, he might
stay here.

Then I thought again whether it would be wisdom to attempt to carry off
the treasure by night, we two alone to guard it.  I stood, hesitating,
thinking of how easy it it would be for the Indians to take us at a
disadvantage; of what an insecure place the plantation would be should
they discover that the treasure was gone; and at last I made up my mind
as to my course, and walked sharply back to where Tom was snoring.

Then, stooping down, I unfastened the package which contained the little
bars, took out fifty, and secured the package again; when I shook and
roused up Tom.



CHAPTER THIRTY SIX.

ANOTHER ENCOUNTER.

"Right, Mas'r Harry, I'm here," he exclaimed.

"Put half those about you in your different pockets, Tom," I said.  And
he did as he was bid, handling the little ingots as if they were so much
lead.  "And, Tom, I want your advice.  I've come to the conclusion that
it is not prudent to take all this through the woods at night, with
Indians about."

"That's sense, that is," said Tom, interrupting.

"I think, Tom, we'll hide it--all but this, which we'll take back; and
then we can come well prepared some other time, to carry the rest away."

"Good, Mas'r Harry; but where'll we hide it?"

"That's what I'm thinking, Tom," I said.  "Where do you think would be a
good place?"

"Well, Mas'r Harry, I shouldn't bury it, because that's the way it was
hidden afore; nor I wouldn't chuck it down the big gulf place, as you
call it; it would be safe enough, only we couldn't get it again."

"Don't fool, Tom," I said impatiently.

"Who's a fooling?" said Tom gruffly.  "Tell you what, Mas'r Harry, I
don't think those Indian chaps would ever have the pluck to go right in
where we've been.  What do you think of the way under the arch on the
raft?"

"The very idea that struck me, Tom," I said.

Then I told him my plans--the result being that, at the end of a couple
of hours, the little raft was prepared, launched, laden with our
packages, and once more, with candles stuck in their clay sticks, we
were poling ourselves along very slowly in the black tunnel.

The lights flashed on roof, and from off the water, which rippled over
the bamboos and soaked us through and through; but we pressed slowly and
steadily on till we must have been half-way to the vault of the troubled
waters, when I whispered to Tom to stop.

We were now in a part where the tunnel widened out to thirty or forty
feet, though the roof was not more than a foot above our heads, and
remarkable for the streaks of a creamy spar which banded it in every
direction.

"Tom," I said in a whisper, as I glanced round to see that we were
alone, "could we do better than this?"

As I spoke I was trying the depth with my bamboo pole, to find that,
wherever I reached, there was not more than five feet of water.

"But suppose it's that shivering sand, and it swallers it up, Mas'r
Harry?"

"But it's hard rock, Tom.  Feel," I whispered.

There was no mistaking the firmness of the bottom; so, carefully marking
the spot by a cross which I scored on the roof with my knife, we softly
dropped in six golden packages over the side of our little raft, which
seemed ready to leap out of the water on being released from its heavy
burden.

A soft gentle splash in each case, and then the black waters closed over
each package, a pang striking my heart as they disappeared; and I asked
myself whether I was wise, now that I had gained the object of my
search, to let it go from me again like that.  I was roused, though,
from my reverie by Tom, who generally had a word of encouragement for me
at the blackest times.

"There, Mas'r Harry, that's covered up well, and it can be easily
uncovered again; and I'll lay my head agin a halfpenny apple, that if we
don't come to fetch that there, nobody else won't; for unless we told,
nobody wouldn't never find it."

I could not help thinking that Tom was right; and now, with my treasure
found, and, as it were, banked for my use, I felt lighter of spirit, and
we floated easily back in about the quarter of the time occupied in
going; when, carefully taking our raft once more partly to pieces, we
concealed it behind the rocks, and made the best of our way to the
mules.

"Now, Mas'r Harry, you may do as you like; but I say, let's get twenty
or thirty of these stone icicles, just as if we'd come on purpose to
fetch 'em, pack 'em atop of the mules, and ride bang out as if we were
not afraid of anybody."

It was good counsel, and I followed it, riding over the stony barrier
just as the sun was setting.  The stalactites were swung in coffee-bags
on either side of the mules, which, delighted at being once more in the
open air, cantered off merrily whenever the track would allow.

It was just beginning to grow dark upon as glorious an evening as ever
shone upon the gorgeous tropic world, when we reached the end of the
ravine, and both became at the same instant aware of about a dozen
Indians, who advanced quickly, making friendly signs, and repeating the
word--"Amigos!  Amigos!"

"They want to see what we've got, Mas'r Harry," chuckled Tom.  "Don't
show fight unless they do."

Professing to ask for tobacco and a light, the little party surrounded
us; and, as if by accident, one man touched the bags, and contrived to
see their contents, when he said something to his companions, to whom we
civilly gave what they asked, showing no trace of tremor; while they
were smiling and servile.  But I could not help feeling what would have
been our fate had the lading of those mules been the treasure, for
twelve to two were long odds.

It was evident that they were satisfied, and giving us the country
salutation, they bade us good-night, and we moved off; but Tom pulled
up, and shouted after the leader of the party, who returned; when, with
a face whose gravity could be seen, even in that dim short twilight, to
be extreme, Tom took out one of his smallest stalactites, held it up
before him, and repeated the word "buono" three times, and then
presented it to the Indian, who received it with grave courtesy and
retired.

"There," said Tom, "if he don't go and tell his tribe that we're madmen
after that, why, I was never born down Cornwall way.  Say, though, Mas'r
Harry, that was a narrow escape; those chaps watch that gold, and they
thought we had it; and if we had been loaded that way I'm thinking that
it would have been buried again, with two skulls and bones this time,
and those would have been ours."

I shuddered as I urged my mule onward, anxious to reach the hacienda,
which we did earlier than I hoped for, stabled our mules, and then,
relieving Tom of his golden burden, I went up to my room and secured it
in my travelling case, before descending to find my uncle sitting, with
Lilla kneeling beside him, holding his hand; and a glance showed me that
both she and Mrs Landell had been weeping bitterly.

I was surprised to see them assembled at so late an hour, but taking no
notice, I went up and shook hands.

"Well, Harry," said my uncle sadly; "had enough of exploring yet?"

"Quite, Uncle," I said.  "I have finished now."

He looked up at me for a moment, and then fell to stroking Lilla's
golden hair.

"Well, lad, I'm sorry," he said, after a pause; "but I may as well tell
you, and be out of my misery.  But don't think I blame you, lad--don't
think I blame you, for I suppose it was to be."

"What is it, Uncle?"  I said in an indifferent tone.  "No new trouble, I
hope?"

He glanced at me in a sadly disappointed way, and then said sternly:

"_I_ don't reproach you, Harry; but that blow you struck Garcia has been
my ruin, unless I buy his favour with this."

As he spoke he laid his hand tenderly upon Lilla's head, then drew her
to him and kissed her lovingly.

"But we can't do that, my little lamb--we can't do that," he continued.
"We are to be turned out of the place; but I daresay there's a living to
be got--eh, Harry?  You'll not leave us, I suppose, now we're in
trouble?  You said you would not, and now, my lad, is the time to put
you to the proof.  You'll work now, won't you?"

"Not if I know it, Uncle," I said coolly.  "Why should I work?  I'm much
obliged for your hospitality; but I feel now disposed to go back to
England, and the sooner the better."

My uncle did not speak, and a dead silence fell upon all.  I caught one
sad, reproachful glance from Lilla's eyes; and then she clung, weeping
and whispering to my uncle, who, however, only shook his head.

"I think, my dears, we'll go to rest," he said at last suddenly.
"Lilla, my child, fetch the Book--we'll have one chapter in the old
place for the last time, for who can tell where we shall be to-morrow?"

My heart burned within me as I longed to tell the true-hearted old
fellow of my success, but I would not then.  The news of Garcia's
behaviour gave me an opportunity that I could not resist, and, after
sitting in silence till my uncle had read his chapter and offered up a
simple prayer for the protection of all, I allowed them to part from me
almost coldly, though more in sorrow than in anger, and to go, aching of
heart, to bed.

I knew that Tom would not say a word, so I was safe; and the next
morning, after a sad, dull breakfast, I sat with them all in the
darkened room, my uncle starting at every noise in the yard, where all
looked bright and fair, while Lilla's eyes met mine from time to time in
mingled reproach and wonder at what seemed to her my heartless
behaviour.

We had not long to wait, for it seemed that Garcia had declared his
intention of being there that morning to demand payment of money, the
greater part of which had been advanced to Mrs Landell when a widow--a
debt which my uncle had undertaken to repay at the same time that he had
accepted further favours from this man.

We had not been seated there an hour when we heard Garcia's voice in the
yard, and Lilla crept closer to Mrs Landell.

"Harry," said my uncle, "you must please leave the room.  I was in hopes
that you would have gone out.  I cannot find it in my heart to give up
without making an appeal to Garcia for time."

"An appeal that shall end in a new bargain being made with respect to
that poor girl!"  I exclaimed.  "Uncle, be a man, or you will make me
blush for you!"

My uncle was about to speak when Garcia noisily entered the room, his
sneering, triumphant face turning pale with rage as he saw me seated
there.

Mrs Landell and Lilla both cast an imploring glance at me, one which I
answered by crossing over, taking Lilla's hand, and whispering a few
words of comfort and encouragement.

Garcia's eyes flashed, but he kept down his resentment, and, advancing
to the table:

"Senor Landell," he said, "I come to demand the money that is due to me,
and which I must now have.  Of course you are prepared?"

"Prepared, Garcia?" said my uncle.  "I am not prepared--you know that,"
he continued sadly.  "But still these stringent proceedings will do you
no good.  I ask you as a favour for time.  I am certain that I can
realise more from the plantation than you can.  Give me time and it will
prove to your advantage."

"Miss Lilla," said Garcia, advancing with a smile, "you hear your
stepfather's words.  It rests with you.  Shall I give him time?"

Lilla's only reply, as I stood back, was a shudder, and she clung more
closely to her mother.

The action was not lost upon Garcia, who stepped back rapidly to the
door, uttered some words to a couple of men in waiting, and they
followed him into the room.

"You have the papers," said Garcia fiercely to the elder man, who seemed
a sort of notary; "take possession of this place and all thereon, as
forfeited to me in accordance with the bonds.  Senor Landell, in an hour
I require you to be off this plantation.  As for you," he exclaimed,
turning to advance threateningly upon me, "you are an intruder.  This
place is my property; leave here this instant!  Or stay," he said with
mock courtesy; "perhaps the gay young English senor will take compassion
upon his uncle's position and release him by paying his debt.  What does
Senor Grant say?"

"Harry, for Heaven's sake," cried my uncle, "let there be no
disturbance.  Take care, or there will be bloodshed!" he cried.

For as I advanced to confront Garcia he drew out a pistol.

"Stand aside, Uncle!"  I exclaimed angrily, for he had caught my arm.
"I know how to deal with this cowardly bully!  Put up that pistol or--"

I did not finish my sentence, for in obedience to a nod Garcia was
dragged back into a chair, and Tom Bulk's sturdy arms pinioned him, but
not in time; for, with a cry of rage, he drew the trigger.  There was a
sharp report, and then, as the smoke floated upward, a wild cry echoed
through the room.



CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN.

SLIPPERY METAL.

That cry was from Lilla, who ran to my uncle's side just as he staggered
to a chair, holding his face with both hands.

"Not much hurt, I think," he gasped; "but it was a close touch--a sort
of farewell keepsake," he said with a faint attempt to smile.

It was, indeed, a narrow escape, for the ball had ploughed one of his
cheeks so that it bled profusely, and I could have freely returned the
shot in the rage which I felt.

Perhaps it would have been better for all parties had I fired, for it
would only have been disabling as black-hearted a scoundrel as ever
breathed.  But my plans were made, and by an effort I kept to them, just
as the notary was about to flee in alarm.

"Loose him, Tom," I said; and Garcia started up, foaming almost at the
mouth.  "Keep back there," I cried, "and do not let me see one of those
hands move towards breast or pocket.  The instant I detect any such act
I fire."

Garcia stood scowling for a few moments but not meeting my eye, and I
continued addressing the notary:

"Give me full particulars of this amount, and I will pay it."

"You, Harry--you!" exclaimed my uncle.

"You!--you vile impostor!  You beggar and vagabond!  You do not possess
an onza of gold," roared Garcia, bursting forth into a fit of
vituperation.  "Don't listen to him; don't heed him; it's a trick--a
plan.  I take possession.  The money was to be paid this morning, and it
is not paid, so I seize the plantation."

"You are the business man," I said coolly to the notary--with that
coolness that the possession of money gives--"this is a mining country,
and gold in ounces should be current."

"The best of currency, senor," said the notary with a smile and a bow.

"Tell me the amount, then, in ounces," I said, "and I will pay you."

"Don Xeres," gasped Garcia, almost beside himself with rage, "I will
take no promises to pay."

The old notary shrugged his shoulders.

"But, Senor Garcia, there are no promises to pay.  I understand the
English senor to say that he will pay--at once!  Am I not right, senor?"

"Quite," I said.  "Uncle, I will lend you this amount."

"But, Harry, my dear boy, you are mad!  You have no idea of the extent."

"Two hundred and five ounces would equal the amount in _pesos d'oro_
which Senor Landell is indebted," said the notary quietly.

"Good!"  I said.  "Then will you have proper balances brought?  Uncle,
see to the return of your papers."

"I am in the hands of Senor Xeres," said my uncle in a bewildered tone.
"He will see justice done."

The old notary bowed and smiled, while I crossed to where my leather
case stood upon a side-table, brought it to my chair, and then seated
myself, slowly unbuckling the straps and unlocking it while the balances
were brought, when I drew out six of the little yellow bar ingots and
passed them over to the notary, who was the banker of the district as
well.

He took them, turned them over, wiped his glasses, and replaced them;
then examined each bar again.

"Pure metal, I think, senor?"  I said, smiling.

"The purest, Senor Inglese," he replied with another bow.

Then, placing the ingots in the balances, he recorded each one's weight
as he went on, to find them, with a few grains variation more or less,
six ounces each.

Five times, to Garcia's astonishment and rage, did I bring from the case
in my lap six of the golden bars, the notary the while testing and
weighing them one by one in the coolest and most business-like way
imaginable.  Then his spectacles were directed inquiringly at me, and I
brought out four more, which were duly weighed and placed with the
others.  Then again were the spectacles directed at me.

"Another ounce, less a quarter, senor," said the notary.  "I have here
two hundred and four ounces and a quarter."

"Fortunatus's purse wants aiding, Uncle," I said, unwilling to exhibit
more of the golden spoil.  "You can manage the three-quarters of an
ounce?"

My uncle was speechless; but he rushed to a secretary, took out a little
canvas bag, and counted out the difference in coin.  When, coolly
drawing out bags of his own, the notary made up a neat package of the
bars, inclosing therewith his account of the weights, tied it up, lit--
with apparatus of his own--a wax taper, sealed the package, and handed
it to Garcia, who took it with a fierce scowl, but only to dash it down
the next instant upon the table.

"I will not take it," he exclaimed.  "It is a trick--the gold is base!"

"Senor Don Pablo Garcia, I have--I, S. Xeres--have examined and proved
that gold," said the old notary.  "I say it is pure, and you cannot
refuse it.  Senor Landell, there are your bonds now.  Senor Garcia is
angry, but the business is terminated."

Rising and bowing to us with a courtly grace that could win nothing less
than respect, the old notary handed some deeds to my uncle, and then,
picking up the gold, he passed his arm through Garcia's and led him
away--the notary's attendant following with his master's writing-case
and balances.

But the next moment a shadow darkened the door, and Garcia would have
rushed in had not Tom blocked the way.

"Now, then, where are you shovin' to, eh?" grumbled Tom; and there was a
scuffle, and the muttering of a score of Spanish oaths, with, I must
say, a couple of English ones, that sounded to be in Tom's voice, when
Garcia shouted, in a voice that we could all hear:

"Tell him there is another debt to pay yet, and it shall be paid in
another coin!"

The door closed then, and it was evident that Tom was enjoying the act
of seeing Garcia off the premises, while the next minute my uncle was
holding me tightly by both hands and my aunt sobbing on my neck.

"And I was saying you were like the rest of the world--like the rest of
the world, Harry, my dear boy," was all my uncle could say, in a choking
voice, and there were tears in his eyes as he spoke.

"Say no more, Uncle--say no more," I exclaimed, shaking him warmly by
the hands.

Then he took his wife to his heart, telling her in broken words that
there was to be peace at the old place after all.

It must have been from joy at the happiness I was the means of bringing
into that home, or else from the example that was set me, for the next
moment I had Lilla in my arms, kissing her for response to the thanks
looking from her bright eyes; and even when my uncle turned to me I
could only get one hand at liberty to give him, the other would still
clasp the little form that did not for an instant shrink.

"Too bad--too bad, Harry--too bad!" said my uncle, with a smile and a
shake of the head.  "I am no sooner free of one obligation than I am
under another; and so now, on the strength of that money, you put in
your claims."

"To be sure, Uncle," I said laughing; "and you see how poor Lilla
suffers."

I repented saying those words the next moment, for Lilla shrank hastily
away, blushing deeply.

My uncle and I were soon left alone, when, holding out his hand to me,
he said, in a voice whose deep tones told how he was moved:

"Harry, my boy, I can never repay you the service you have done me; but
if I live I will repay you the money."

"Look here, Uncle," I said, "once and for all--let that be buried.
There, light your cigar; and I can talk to you."  Then, taking our
places in a recess by one of the shaded windows, I spoke to him in a low
tone.  "You know how I have spent my time lately?"

He nodded.

"Treasure-seeking?"

He nodded again.

"Uncle, at times it almost seemed to me a madness; but I persevered and
succeeded.  Look here!"

I tore open the case and showed him the sixteen golden ingots remaining.

"And you found all that, Harry!  My boy, you were fortunate indeed."

"All that, Uncle!"  I said with a smile.  "That is not a hundredth part.
I am rich.  I?  No!  We are rich; and now I want your advice.  What are
we to do? for I've hidden my treasure again till I can fetch it away in
safety."

"You have done well, then," he said gravely.  "But is not this some
delusion, my boy?"

"Are these delusive, Uncle?"  I exclaimed, clinking together two of the
sonorous little bars.  "Were those delusive which Garcia has carried
off?  No, Uncle, I thought once it must be a dream; but it is a solid
reality.  I have found the treasures of one of the temples of the Sun--
ingots, plates, sheets, cups, and two great shields besides, all of
solid metal."

"Harry," said my uncle, "it sounds like a wild invention from some
story-teller's pen, and I should laugh in your face but for the proofs
you have given me.  But you must not stay here in this country.  It is
as much yours as any lucky adventurer's, but your right would be
disputed in a hundred quarters; while, as for the Indians--"

"Disputed, Uncle?"  I said interrupting him.  "Disputed if it were
known.  You know it."

"Does any one else?" said my uncle anxiously.

"Tom was with me.  We found it together," I said, "and he helped me to
conceal it again.  But I could trust him with my life.  In fact, Uncle,"
I said laughing, "we owe one another half-a-dozen lives over our
discovery, for either I was saving his life or he was saving mine all
the time."

"But the Indians, Harry--the Indians!  That is a sacred treasure--the
treasure devoted to their gods, hence its remaining so long untouched.
If they knew that you had taken it, no part of South America would hold
you free from their vengeance.  They would have your life, sooner or
later."

"Pleasant place this, certainly, Uncle," I said laughing; "what with
Garcia and the Indians."

"I don't think it could become known from those ingots," said my uncle
musingly, "though Garcia will rack his brains to find out how you became
possessed of them.  And yet I don't know; you see they have two or three
characters stamped on them that the Indians might know.  But were you
seen?"

"Coming from the place, Uncle?  Yes, I suppose I must have been watched
constantly.  But all the same, I have the treasure hidden away; and as
to the risk from the Indians, I don't feel much alarmed; and you may
depend upon it that they are in the most profound--What's that?"

My uncle uttered an ejaculation at the same moment, for as I spoke,
rapid as the dart of a serpent, a dark shadowy arm was passed under the
blind close to the little table where we sat, and on looking there were
but fifteen of the little ingots left.

"Stop here!  I'll go," I exclaimed.

In an instant I had torn aside the blind, pushed open the jalousie, and
leaped out into the outer sunshine, to stand in the glare, looking this
way and that way, but in vain: there were flowers, and trees, and the
bright glare, but not a soul in sight.

I stood for an instant to think; and then, feeling for my pistol to see
if it was there if wanted, I dashed across the plantation towards the
forest, peering in every direction, but without avail; and at last, more
troubled than I cared to own, I returned, dripping with perspiration, to
the hacienda, to meet Tom.

"Say, Mas'r Harry, what's the good o' running yourself all away, like so
much butter?  'Tain't good for the constitution."

"Have you seen any Indians lurking about to-day, Tom, anywhere near the
place?"

"Not half a one, Mas'r Harry, because why?  I've been fast asleep ever
since I saw the Don off the premises."

"Keep a good look-out, Tom," I cried.

Then I hurried in to my uncle, who looked troubled.

"I don't like that, Harry," he said.  "There were eavesdroppers close at
hand.  I thought I would go too, but I saw nothing.  Not a man had been
out of the yard.  But there, take the gold up to your room and lock it
in the big chest; the key is in it.  I put it here for safety till you
got back, and--confound!"

We gazed in blank astonishment, for as my uncle opened his secretary and
laid bare my leather case, which he had locked and strapped up, there it
was with the straps cut through, the lock cut out, and the fifteen
ingots gone!



CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT.

BARS WITHOUT BOLTS.

As soon as my uncle had recovered from his astonishment he took out and
loaded a couple of brace of pistols, laying one pair ready to hand and
placing the others in his pockets.

"Harry, my lad," he then said seriously, "we have entered upon something
that will take all our wits to compass.  We have cunning people to deal
with; but Englishmen have brains of their own, and perhaps we can
circumvent those who are against us.  I wonder whether Garcia will get
safe home with his share."

I was too much put out to think or care much about Garcia just then.
Certainly I did think it a good thing that he had been paid off, and the
principal current of my thoughts just then tended to a congratulatory
point as I thought of how much more serious the loss might have been.
That I had done right in concealing the treasure was evident; and there
it must lie, I thought, until I could bear it at once away out of the
country.

My musings were interrupted by my uncle.

"Harry," he said, "I'd give something if the women were away from here.
I hope I am magnifying the trouble; but I fear that we are going to be
between two fires; and, at present I hardly know what course to pursue.
I'm afraid of your gold, my lad, but a prince's fortune must not be
slighted; and my conscience does not much upbraid me with respect to
helping you to secure it.  But we must not pass over this robbery in
silence.  That was done by no one here, I am sure.  We must try and put
an end to eavesdropping so close at hand, or more strange things may
happen.  Now, take my advice: both you and Tom go well armed, don't stir
many yards from the plantation; and now come with me and let us
carefully search the place inside and out.  Nearly a hundred ounces of
gold taken within the last few minutes, and part even from under our
eyes.  It won't do, Harry--it won't do!"

Tom was called in, armed, and then the place was thoroughly searched
inside and out, but without avail; not a trace could be seen, till,
after a few minutes' thought, my uncle made a sign to me, placed Tom in
one position, me in another, and then disappeared into the house.

Five minutes after there was a loud cry, the sharp crack of a pistol,
and what seemed like some beast of prey leaped from one of the upper
windows full twelve feet to the ground, about half-way between Tom and
myself.

With a rush we made for the falling object, grasping it as it fell to
the earth; but the next instant I was sent staggering back, as the
Indian--for such it was--bounded up, striking me in the chest with his
hand; while, when I gathered myself together again, Tom was standing
alone, and my uncle came running out holding a handkerchief to his face,
which had recommenced bleeding.

"Did you stop him?" he said.

"Stop!" cried Tom.  "It was like trying to stop a thing made of
quicksilver.  But," he continued with a grin, "I've got his skin; he
left that in my hands, and I say, Mas'r Harry, if he wasn't made of
quicksilver he was of gold."

For at that moment, as Tom shook the dark native cloth garment left in
his hands by the fleeing Indian, the sixteen ingots fell to the ground,
to be instantly secured.

"Harry," said my uncle, "I told you we had to deal with a cunning enemy.
That fellow was in the space between the ceiling and roof of my
bed-room.  How he got there I can't tell; but," he added with a shudder,
"I fear if he had not been dislodged some of us would not have seen the
morning's light."

"But pursuit, Uncle," I cried.  "Let us try and overtake him."

"No--no," he said uneasily.  "We should only be led into a trap in the
forest, and we are too weak for that.  I'm afraid, Harry, that this
affair is going to assume dimensions greater than we think for.  It is
evident that the Indians suspected you of having been at their sacred
treasure, and despatched a spy to watch if their suspicions were
correct.  I tried to bring him down, but I had only a momentary glance
and I must have missed him.  No, Harry, there must be no pursuit but
plenty of scheming for defence, if we wish to hold that which we have
got.  As I said before, there is no knowing where this will end.  Which
way did he go?"

"Right away towards the forest, sir," said Tom.

"Perhaps only to slip back and watch by some other path," muttered my
uncle.  "Give me the bars, Harry, and I'll take them in, while you and
Tom walk cautiously round before coming to me.  Go one each way, right
round, so as to meet again here, and then come in and we will talk
matters over a little.  But stay--tell me--did you see anything of the
Indians, do you say, as you came back?"

I repeated the incident of being surrounded, and the way in which Tom
presented a stalactite to the principal man.

My uncle smiled grimly.

"Tom," he said, "you must look out, or that stalactite will come back
with interest.  I'm afraid that we English do not give the Indians
credit for all the brain they possess.  They may have once been a
simple, childlike race, but long oppression has roused something more in
their breasts.  You must look out, lads--look out."

My uncle left us, and Tom started one way, I the other, to look
watchfully and carefully round for danger; although, to my way of
thinking, it was decidedly a work of supererogation there in broad
daylight, with the sun pouring down his intensely bright beams.  There
was the creeper-overhung verandah on one side, which, at a glance, I
could see was untenanted; there, on the other side, was the garden-like
plantation, with its gorgeous blossoms and flitting birds.  The rows
could be easily scanned, and I looked down between them; but it was
evident that there was no danger to apprehend nearer than the forest;
and I reached one corner of the verandah just as a parrot gave one of
its peculiar calls, to be answered by another behind me.

This was followed by a regular chorus from the woods, every parrot
within hearing setting up a series of its ear-piercing shrieks, which in
turn started birds of other kinds; the toucans hopping about from branch
to branch uttering their singular barking cries, as they raised high
their huge bills, which looked as if they would overbalance their
bodies, but were as light as if made of paper and as thin.

It did not seem a time to notice such things, but somehow they impressed
themselves upon my mind, and I could not help letting my eyes rest upon
a pair of the most magnificent trogons I had ever seen.  They were in
the full beauty of their gorgeous golden-green plumage, which contrasted
strongly with their brilliant scarlet breasts.  Where they were perched
there was an opening among the trees and the full blaze of the sun came
down upon their backs, crests, and yard-long tail-feathers which
glistened and sparkled at every movement as if formed of burnished
metal.

This set me thinking of the golden treasure, and a sort of childish
fancy came upon me as to whether these birds might be inhabited by the
spirits of some of the old gold-loving Incas, who were watching over
their treasure and waiting about to see what steps I should take next to
steal that store away.

I walked on, met, and passed Tom, who remarked upon the improbability of
the copperskin showing up again; and then I continued my patrol slowly
round the house, past the court-yard, where all was still, and at last
found Tom where we had parted from my uncle.

"Seen anything, Tom?"  I said.

"Lizard cutting up the verandy, Mas'r Harry, and a bee-bird buzzing
about over the flowers: nothing else."

I led the way into the room, and Tom followed, to stand at the door,
picking his cap, and waiting to be told to come in.

"Don't stand there, Tom," I said; "come in and sit down.  You are to be
one of the privy-councillors."

"All right, Mas'r Harry," said Tom, seating himself close to the door.

My uncle not being in the room, I supposed that he had gone to secure
the gold, and walked across to where lay my cut and destroyed leather
valise, which I was turning over when I heard what had never thrilled
through the rooms of my uncle's house since I had been there--namely, a
light, heart-stirring, silvery-like song, and for a few moments I stood
listening, as it came nearer and nearer, till Lilla tripped into the
dark room, to start, stop short, and then colour up upon finding the
place occupied.

The next moment I was by her side restraining her, for she would have
darted away, and as I looked in her eyes I could read the story of the
happy little heart rejoicing at being freed from a hateful bondage.

I must give Tom the credit of being a most discreet companion, for he
suddenly found that it would be possible to repair my valise, and for
the next quarter of an hour he was busily cutting and unpicking the
great coarse stitches.

I was startled from my dreams back to the realities of life, for during
that quarter of an hour existence had been bright and golden enough for
me, without thinking of anything else; and the gold, the Indians, my
uncle--everything had been forgotten, when Mrs Landell entered the
room.

"Have you seen your uncle?" she said to me, rather anxiously.

"Not during the last quarter of an hour or so," I replied.  "He left us
to come indoors.  Go and see if he is in the yard," I said to Tom.

Tom went, to return in about five minutes with the news that my uncle
had not been there for some time.

"Are you sure he came in?" said my aunt.

"Well, no--not sure," I replied; "he left us to come in.  But, by the
way, Aunt, where would my uncle put plate or money that he wanted to
keep in safety?"

"Oh, in the strong chest in his little office here," said my aunt,
leading the way to a small cupboard of a room just large enough for his
desk, a stool, and an old sea-chest in which he kept his books, and, it
seemed, such money as he had not in use.

But my uncle had evidently not been there, for the door was closed, and,
after a moment's thought, Mrs Landell remembered that her husband had
not asked her for the key, which was in her pocket.

We waited ten minutes, after which both Tom and I went out to make fresh
inquiries, but without avail; then, pausing in the doorway, Tom said to
me in a low tone:

"Mas'r Harry, you always laughed at me, and said I was making bugbears;
but we've been watched and dodged ten times as much as you think for."

"Perhaps so, Tom," I said moodily.

"And I don't want to make no more bugbears now," continued Tom; "but I'm
sure as if some one told me, or as if I saw it all myself, that your
uncle has been dropped on, and they've got him and the gold too this
time, Mas'r Harry."

"Absurd, Tom!  Why, he had not half-a-dozen yards to go."

"Then they was half-a-dozen yards too many," said Tom sullenly.  "We
didn't ought to have left him, Mas'r Harry."

"But you don't for a moment think--"

"No, Mas'r Harry, I don't; but I feel quite sure as they've burked him,
and got him away with them bars of gold.  You see if they haven't now!"

It seemed so improbable that I was disposed to laugh; but I felt the
next instant that it could be no laughing matter, and with a feeling of
anxiety at my heart that would not be driven away, I turned to enter the
house just as there was a noise and confusion in the yard, and, to my
surprise, old Senor Xeres, the notary and banker, was assisted into the
hacienda, closely followed by his attendant, both bleeding freely.

Tom looked meaningly at me, and the next minute we were helping to bear
the old Spaniard to a couch, when, his wounds being roughly bound up,
and a stimulant given, he told us in tolerable English that about three
miles from the hacienda, while on his way to the nearest town, he had
been set upon suddenly, and in spite of the resistance offered by
himself and servant, they had been roughly treated, and the gold
intrusted to him by Pablo Garcia had been taken away.

Again Tom gave me a meaning look, and I wondered whether the thoughts
which suggested those looks could be correct.

"Was Senor Garcia with you?"  I said at last.

"No," said the notary; "he left us within ten minutes of our quitting
this house, or he might have helped us to beat the scoundrels off.  Only
think, senor--two hundred and five ounces of pure gold!"

"For which you are answerable?"  I said, inquiringly.

"No, no," said the notary.  "I would not take it to be answerable, only
at the Senor Don Garcia's risk."

"But why does not your uncle come back, Harry?" said my aunt uneasily.
"He would not be out of the way now unless there was something very
particular to keep him."

"We'll go and have another look, Aunt," I said.  "We may find him
somewhere in the plantation."

Signing to Tom to follow, I walked out to stand beneath the verandah
till Tom joined me.

"They've got it all back again, Mas'r Harry, safe," said Tom gloomily,
as soon as he stood facing me.

I did not answer.

"And we shall have to look pretty sharp to get the rest away," he
continued, prophetically.

"Never mind the gold, Tom," I said, with a strange uneasy feeling
troubling me.  "Let us first see what has become of my uncle."



CHAPTER THIRTY NINE.

MISSING.

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.



CHAPTER FORTY.

MY UNCLE'S ADVENTURE.

"Let me get a shot at him, Mas'r Harry!" cried Tom excitedly.  "Hold
up--don't go down, whatever you do.  It's one of them great beasts--I
know it is.  There's thousands of 'em here."

As if to prove the truth of Tom's words, one of the monsters dashed,
half-running, half-wallowing, by us while, completely unnerved, I could
do nothing but stand motionless as Tom beat the canes aside and tried to
get a clear view of that which held me.

"Why, Mas'r Harry!" he exclaimed in tones I could hardly understand,
"who ever saw such a game as this?"

Tom's words brought me to myself, and, looking down, I found that which
clasped me so tightly was a man's hand--my uncle's!

Angry with myself for my cowardice, the next moment I was down upon my
knees helping to extricate him from the position in which he lay, with
one arm still bound to his side, and the dark cloth garment from which
Tom had shaken the gold bound round and round his head and face,
effectually gagging him; and if the intention of his captors had been to
suffocate him, they had nearly effected their purpose.

"Uncle!"  I exclaimed, as I held his head up and he began to draw his
breath more freely.

"I thought it was all over, my boy, when I heard your voice," he said
faintly, and evidently not without considerable effort.

With some difficulty we got him upon his legs; but until we had
thoroughly chafed them he could not take a step, so tight had been the
bonds with which he had been confined.

But at last he seemed to exert himself to the utmost; and, sometimes
leaning on Tom's arm, sometimes on mine, we went slowly along the track
we had made to the great prostrate tree, where, after a hasty glance
around to make certain that no serpents were in the way, we sat down to
rest, and my uncle, unasked, began to speak.

"I must sit down for a few minutes, my lad," he said, "and then we will
make haste on, for those women must not be left for an instant more than
we can help.  The gold has all gone, though, Harry."

"Uncle," I exclaimed, "it seems as if my thirst for gold is bringing
down a curse upon your peaceful home."

"Not so fast, my lad--not so fast.  Gold is a very good thing in its
way, and helped me this morning out of a terrible difficulty.  Remember
that it set me free from Garcia."

"And they've got it all back from him again," chuckled Tom.

"What!" exclaimed my uncle.

"Knocked the poor old lawyer about and grabbed all the bars," said Tom.

My uncle seemed astonished at the news, but his brow knit the next
minute.

"Never mind, Harry," he said, "we'll risk the curses of the gold.  I'll
help you, my lad, to the last gasp; and if we don't get the treasure
safe on board some vessel bound for old England, it sha'n't be for want
of trying.  But you must give me time, lad--you must give me time; for,
what with Garcia's bullet and this blow on the head, I'm as weak as a
child."

"But how was it, Uncle?"  I exclaimed anxiously.

"Give me your arm, lad, and let's make haste back to the hacienda.  You,
Tom, keep that pistol in your hand cocked, and walk close behind; and if
you see one of those lurking copper-skins jump up, shoot him down
without mercy.  You know how you both left me to go into the house,
where I meant to put the gold into a chest in my little office?  Well, I
stood looking at you for a few moments, Hal, and then I had taken a step
forward, when I felt myself dashed to the ground by a tremendous blow
upon the head; hundreds of lights danced before my eyes, and then all
was darkness, from which I came to myself with the sensation of being
suffocated by something bound over my face.  I felt, too, that my hands
and arms were tightly bound, and that I was quite helpless, for I could
not cry out.  I did not feel much troubled, though, for a heavy, sleepy
feeling was on me.  All I wanted was to be left alone, while instead of
that I could feel that I was being dragged slowly along over the ground;
and then at last came a stoppage, and I knew that I was left."

My uncle stopped for a few minutes, apparently exhausted, but he soon
recovered himself and went on:

"I struggled hard to get at liberty; but, do all I would, I could only
get one hand and arm loose as far as the elbow, while as to freeing my
legs and face, that I soon found to be impossible; and as I lay there I
could feel that the muddy ooze was all in motion beneath me with the
spawn of those great alligators of the river."

"Wur-r-r-ra!" ejaculated Tom in a long shudder.

"Over and over again I felt something crawl over me, and once something
seized me, gave me a shake, and then let go; but the height of my horror
was reached when I felt slowly gliding and coiling upon me what must
have been one of the water-boas.  I could feel it gradually growing
heavier and heavier with the great thick folds lying upon my chest, my
legs, and even up to my throat, till the sense of suffocation was
horrible, and I lay momentarily expecting to be wrapped in the monster's
folds and crushed to death, till suddenly I felt every part of the body
in motion, and that it was gliding off me, for the sense of the crushing
weight was going.  For a moment I thought it was to enable the beast to
seize me, but the next instant I knew what it meant, for I could faintly
hear voices, which I rightly judged to have scared the reptile away.
Then something touched me as I heard indistinctly the voices close by,
and with what little strength I had left I clutched at whatever it was;
and you know the rest."

By this time we had reached the edge of the plantation, and I was
glancing anxiously towards the hacienda in dread lest anything should
have happened.  But so far all appeared at peace.  It was drawing
towards evening and the shadows were lengthening, but the whole place
seemed to be sleeping in the gorgeous yellow sunlight, so still and
placid looked all around.

Still, indeed! for an ominous change met us upon our reaching the
court-yard.  Every Indian labourer, male and female, had gone, and the
place was silent and deserted.

"The rats desert the sinking ship, Harry," said my uncle huskily.  "For
Heaven's sake run in and see if all is well; I dare go no farther!"

I needed no second bidding to rush in and hurry to the room where the
wounded Spaniards had lain, to find it deserted.

With a strange clutching at the heart I ran to the inner room and called
Lilla by name, when, to my intense delight, she answered, and with my
aunt, weak and trembling, she came forth.

We soon learned the cause of the silence about the place.  Shortly after
I had taken my departure Senor Xeres had roused up from the short sleep
into which he had sunk, to express his determination to recommence his
journey, declaring that he had nothing now to lose; while, half an hour
after, Lilla had seen through one of the verandahs the whole of the
labourers glide silently away towards the forest, and then a silence as
of death had fallen upon the hacienda.



CHAPTER FORTY ONE.

THE ATTACK ON THE HACIENDA.

"Harry," said my uncle about sundown, "if I could do as I liked I should
rest my cuts and bruises for a few days; but, as it is, I cannot give
up.  Now, look here, my lad--here, you, Tom Bulk, don't shrink away,
man--this is as much for your ears as for his.  I've been thinking this
over, and, from what I know of the Indians, I'm quite sure that they
mean mischief.  It seems hard, but I fear that there will be a fierce
attack upon this place before many hours are past; and then, unless we
can beat them off, ours will be a bad case.  You two must see to the
closing up of the bottom of the place, and doing what you can to put it
in a state of defence."

"Uncle," I said, "is not this almost madness?  Here we are, only three.
How, then, can we defend such a house as this?"

"It is our only hope," he said gloomily.  "If we had your treasure here,
we might try to escape down the river; but as it is, we'll fight to the
last, and then take to the woods."

"And the cave--eh, Mas'r Landell?" said Tom.

"Tom," I cried joyfully, "why, that would indeed be a place of refuge
when all here failed."

"Yes," said my uncle thoughtfully.  "I did not think of that.  Such a
place might indeed be useful for a retreat if we could take with us
provisions.  But now see about this place.  I will not leave here yet--
not until we are obliged."

In obedience to his wishes, though with an aching heart, I set to
bolting and barring, closing shutters, and providing one or two windows
that commanded likely points of assault with mattresses over which we
could fire.  But all the while I knew well enough that, with anything
like a daring attack, the place must be carried directly.  The great
dread I had, though, was of fire, which I knew would prove the most
formidable of adversaries--for a brand applied to one of the posts of
the verandah would be sufficient to ensure the total destruction of the
light, sun-dried, wooden building.

Meanwhile, on returning, I found that my uncle had nearly forgotten his
pains, and was busily arranging such firearms as we had--ample, as it
happened; for there were five guns, and he had a couple of brace of
pistols, besides those with which we were provided.  Ammunition, too,
was in fair quantity; while, one way or another, our little garrison
could boast of plenty of provision.

"No sleep to-night, Harry," said my uncle, cheerfully.  "We must all
watch, for the Indians will not be satisfied till they have thoroughly
ransacked the place."

"Of course we shall beat them off if possible; but what arrangements
have you made for retreat?"  I said.

Without a word, my uncle led me into the kitchen of the hacienda, where
he had stabled four mules, with plenty of fodder.

"We must get off unseen if we can, my lad," he said, "and the mules will
carry plenty of ammunition and food.  But about water?"

"Plenty at the cavern," I said.

"Good!" exclaimed my uncle.  "And now look here, Harry," he said,
leading me to the inner room, and taking down a map, "show me, as nearly
as you can, where the cavern lies which contains all this rich
treasure."

I examined the map as carefully as I could, and then pointed out the
valley in which it seemed to me that, if the map were correct, the
cavern must lie.

"You say there is water?" said my uncle--"a stream?"

"Yes, a little rivulet."

"Then that must run down to this river.  Good!  And here again this
river joins the great Apure, which, in its turn, runs into the Orinoco.
Once well afloat, we should be pretty safe, and we could reach the mouth
of the great river, and from there Georgetown, Demerara.  Why, Harry, it
could not be above a dozen miles from the mouth of your cave to the
water-way that should see us safe on the road homeward."

"But about canoes, uncle?"  I said.

"Canoes, my boy?  Well, of course, it would be well to have them; but we
must not be particular.  I have known voyages made on skin-rafts before
now; and recollect this, that we shall have the stream to bear us along
the whole distance.  But there, after all, we may be alarming ourselves
without cause."

Tom and I exchanged glances at the mention of the skin-raft, and then we
prepared to spend the watchful night.

"I need not hint to you, Hal, about trying to protect poor Lilla," said
my uncle, in tones that bespoke his emotion.

"No," I said, quietly.

My look, I suppose, must have satisfied Lilla, for I received one in
return full of trust and confidence in the efforts of my weak arm.

Night at last--beautiful, though anxious night, with the sky deepening
from blue to purple, to black, with the diamond-like stars spangling the
deep robe of nature till it glistened with their glorious sheen.  Around
us on every side was the forest, in a greater or less depth, and from it
came the many nocturnal sounds--sounds with which I was pretty familiar,
but which, upon this occasion, had a more strange and oppressive effect
than usual.  Boom, whizz, croak, shriek, yell, and moan, mingled with
the distant rush of the great river, ever speeding onward towards the
sea.  At times I could just distinguish the edge of the forest; then
there would be the dark plantation spread around, and nothing more.

It was weary work that, watching--stationed at one of the windows--
watching till my eyes ached, as I tried to distinguish the many familiar
objects by which I was surrounded, and then to make sure that some low
bush was not a crouching or crawling enemy, approaching by stealth
nearer and nearer, ready for a deadly spring.

It was just the time for anxious troubled thought, and the gold lay like
a dead weight upon my conscience.  At that moment I could have gladly
given it all wherewith to purchase safety for those beneath this roof.

I was startled from anxious reverie by a whisper at my side, and turning
I found that it was Lilla, the bearer of a message from my uncle that he
would like me to come to him for a few minutes.

I had scarcely mastered the message, standing there close to the open
window, when the words upon my lips were arrested, and my heart beat
fast, as now, unmistakably no chimera of the brain, I could see six or
seven figures glide out of the darkness towards the house, straight to
where I stood with Lilla.

Nearer they came, stooping down and apparently making for the shade of
the verandah, till they stopped within a couple of yards of us, and
began whispering in what seemed to be broken Spanish, or the _patois_ of
the Indians.  Then I felt my hands clutched more tightly than ever, as a
voice that I recognised in an instant uttered a few words that sounded
like an order, given as it was in a tongue very little of which I could
comprehend, catching only a word or two, while my imagination supplied
the rest.

It was plain enough that, perhaps ignorant of his loss, perhaps
condoning it, Garcia had made common cause with the Indians, and Lilla
was to be saved before fire was applied to the hacienda.

For a few moments there was a dead silence, and then the party glided
along under the verandah.

"What was that Garcia said?"  I then whispered to Lilla.

I knew that my interpretation must have been pretty correct from the
start Lilla gave, and then her shudder.

"I dare not tell you," she said, with a half sob.

Then leaving the window, after softly closing and securing it, we
hurried, hand in hand, to my uncle.

"How long you have been!" he whispered.

"There was a party of six or seven by my window," I said; "Garcia
heading them."

"Then I was right!" he exclaimed anxiously.  "I thought--"

The next moment my hand was upon his lips; for, dimly-seen through the
narrow aperture left, from which my uncle watched, were four dark
figures; while at the same moment there was a sharp cracking noise, as
of breaking woodwork, from another part of the house.

"Am I to shoot or ain't I?  Is Mas'r Harry there?" whispered a voice
from out of the darkness.  "Because they're trying to break in here."

"You must fire, Tom," said my uncle huskily; "and mind this, if they do
break in, our only hope is in the kitchen, which is stone built and
strong.  Make your way there."

"Right, Mas'r Landell," said Tom coolly.

Then we heard him glide off.

"Lilla, join your mother in there," I heard my uncle then whisper.

Directly after I knew we were alone.

"Harry," said my uncle, "it seems to me that we ought to have beaten a
retreat; but it is too late to talk of that.  Our only hope now is by
giving them a sharp reception.  If we can keep them at bay till daylight
we shall have a better opportunity of escaping."

"I don't agree with you," I said.  "I think our hopes should be in the
darkness."

Drawing near to the window, my remarks were cut short by the sharp
report of a gun, followed in a few seconds by another, when the crashing
noise, evidently made by the tearing down of the jalousie bars at one
window, suddenly ceased, and a loud shriek rang out upon the night air.

We neither of us spoke, as we listened attentively, to hear the next
moment the sound made by a ramrod in a gun-barrel, and we knew that Tom
was safe.

"They've gone from my window now, Mas'r Landell," whispered a voice at
our elbow; "and they won't come back there, I think, seeing how hot it
was.  But, harken there, isn't that them trying somewhere else?"

There was no mistaking the sound.  Strong hands were striving to tear
down a jalousie at the other end of the house; and, hurrying there, my
uncle fired, just as several dimly-seen dark figures were beating in the
window.

"Crack--crack!" two sharp reports from my uncle's gun; but this time, as
their flashes lit up the room where we stood, the fire was replied to by
half a dozen pieces, but fortunately without effect.

Then again fell silence, with once more the same result, that of a
breaking jalousie at an upstairs window.

"They've swarmed up the verandah posts, lads," said my uncle thickly;
"but you two stay by your windows--you at this, Harry; you, Tom, at the
other."

We heard him steal away to the staircase, and then Tom left my side.
The next instant came a loud report from upstairs, then a crash as of a
falling body on the lattice-work of the verandah, and directly after a
dull thud outside the window.

I had no time for thought, though, for incidents now began to succeed
each other with such startling rapidity.  As the dull thud came upon the
bricks beneath the verandah it seemed to me that the darkness outside
the window before which I stood was gradually growing deeper.  Another
instant, and I knew the reason as I levelled my heavily loaded double
gun.

Was I to destroy life? my heart seemed to ask me, but only for the reply
to come instantly.  Yes, if I wished to help and save the women beneath
our charge; and then I drew rapidly, one after the other, both triggers.
There was a gurgling, gasping cry, and the darkness grew less dense.

"Crack--crack!" both barrels again from Tom's part of the house.  It was
evident, then, that we had neither of us returned to our old posts too
soon.

I hastily reloaded, wondering from whence would come the next attack;
but I had not long to wait, for three or four sharp discharges came
through the window, striking the plaster of wall and ceiling, so that it
crumbled down upon me in showers.

Again and again I trembled for those in the kitchen; but the
recollection of my uncle's words encouraged me; and, trusting in the
strength of its stone walls, I began to grow excited, firing and
loading, till all at once, as if by common consent, there was a
cessation of the discharges, followed by an ominous silence.



CHAPTER FORTY TWO.

FLIGHT AND ITS ARREST.

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 <DW72>s
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.



CHAPTER FORTY THREE.

TRACKED.

I was obliged to acknowledge that it was more than we could expect to
reach the cavern without being discovered, and that we ought to be well
content to have gained a haven of safety without loss or injury; but all
the same my heart sank, and I had hard work to keep back the feeling of
despair that, cold and deadening, came upon me.

The thoughts I have set down here flashed through my brain almost
momentarily, but I was brought back to the necessity for action by a
motion now made by Tom.

"Shall I, Mas'r Harry?" he said.  And he covered the retreating Indian
with his gun.

"No," I said, arresting him.  "It would only be more bloodshed, and
would not prevent our being discovered."

The next moment I thought that I was wrong, and that the destruction of
that one foe might be our saving.  But it was too late now; the Indian
had disappeared.

I led the way farther in till the increasing darkness compelled a halt,
and I said a few words of encouragement to the shuddering companions of
our travel.

"Tom," I then said--for the thought had that moment struck me--"we have
no lights."

Tom did not reply, but plunged into the darkness ahead; when, after a
while, we could hear the clinking of flint and steel, followed, after a
short interval, by a faint light, towards which one of Tom's mules
directly began to walk, closely followed by the rest.

"Is it safe to go on?" said my uncle.

"Quite," I replied.  "I don't think any enemies would be here."

I was divided in my opinions as to which way we should go.  It was most
probable that the Indians would be aware of the existence of the
bird-chamber, but would they penetrate to it?  I should much rather have
made that our retreat; but at last I felt that I hardly dared, and that,
if I wished for safety, we must take to the rift beyond the vault of the
troubled waters, leaving the mules in the farthest corner by the arch of
the tunnel.

Leading the way, then, they followed me right away into this land of
gloom and shadow, my brain being actively employed the while as to our
defence of our stronghold.

At last we reached the farthest chamber, below the rocky tongue which
projected over the great gulf; and then, after securing the mules, with
Tom's help, and to the great astonishment of my uncle, I fitted together
the little raft, placed upon it the store of provisions, and then
secured it to a piece of rock, ready at any moment for us to embark and
continue our retreat along the tunnel; for I had come to the conclusion
that it would be better not to expose the women to the terrors of the
water passage unless absolutely obliged.

Thus prepared for escape, I felt better satisfied; and after partaking
of some refreshment, and urging Lilla and my aunt to try and obtain some
rest upon the sandy floor, which was here clean and dry, I whispered to
Tom to follow; and, this time in the dark, we began to thread our way
towards the entrance.

When we had left them about fifty yards behind we turned to gaze back,
to see only the faintest glimmer of the candle they had burning; while
at the end of another minute there was nothing but black darkness, for
the passage had narrowed and wound round a huge block of stone.

It was slow work, but I wanted to grow more familiar with the way; and
at last, by persevering, we passed the vault where was the opening to
the bird-chamber, and then pressed on till, nearing the entrance, we
proceeded with more caution, for I was quite prepared to see a cluster
of savages collected in the mouth of the great subterranean way.

The caution was needed, for upon proceeding far enough we could hear the
buzz of voices, and a glance showed me Garcia and a full score of his
dark-skinned followers.

In a few moments they crossed the rocky barrier and I could see that
they were all armed with pine splints and preparing to light them.  It
was evident, too, that there was a feeling of awe existing amongst the
party, many of the savages hanging back till, by fierce and threatening
gestures, Garcia forced them farther in.

"He's at the bottom of half the mischief, Mas'r Harry," whispered Tom.
"The Indians are after the gold, and he's after Miss Lilla, so they've
joined hand.  Let me bring him down, Mas'r Harry; there's a good chance
now."

My only reply was to lay my hand upon Tom's arm, and then we watched
till fire was obtained, the pine torches lit, and, half driven by
Garcia, the Indians led the way towards where we crouched.

Compelled thus to retreat, we hurried back for some distance, our part
being easy, for we had the black darkness, the knowledge of the way, and
the excessively slow, timid advance of the enemy in our favour.

On came the Indians, with their flashing torches lighting up in a
beautiful though weird way each passage and vault through which they
passed, and still we retreated before them, wondering at their silence;
for Garcia's was the only voice heard beyond a whisper, and even his was
subdued, as if the gloomy grandeur had some little influence upon his
mind.

Twice over there was a halt, and we learned that the Indians were
striving to return, till by violent threats and expostulations Garcia
once more urged them on.

I did not wish to shed blood, otherwise we could have brought down enemy
after enemy at our leisure, while I could not but think that the loss of
one or two of the party would have produced a panic.  There was still,
though, this for a last resource; and I kept feeling hopeful that the
party would return, or else take the way which led to the bird-chamber.

My latter surmises were correct, for, upon crossing the large vault, and
gaining a good post of observation, we saw the Indians stop short and
elevate their torches, pointing out the opening which led to the great
guano-filled chasm, when Garcia placed six men there, evidently as
sentinels, and collecting the rest, made a tour of the vault, and then
pointed down the rift where Tom and I were hidden--the passage which led
to the great gulf.

"No, no, no!" chorused the Indians, giving vent to their negative in a
wild despairing fashion.

Then they all threw themselves upon their knees upon the rocky floor and
began to crawl back.

Garcia raged and stormed, but it soon became evident that if he explored
the passage where we were, it must be alone.  Superstitious dread was
evidently at the bottom of it all, and I breathed more freely as I felt
that for the present, unless he could overcome his companions' terror,
we were safe.

The Indians seemed to be willing enough though to pursue the other
route, for as soon as they went back to their six fellows they began
pointing up at the dark passage and gesticulating, when, feeling
probably that he must submit, Garcia changed the position of his
sentinels, intending apparently to leave them to guard the passage where
we were.  But here again there was a new difficulty; when the men found
that the others were to depart, they refused at once to be left alone,
and at last, after striking one of them down, Garcia had to submit, and
sprang up the rocks, torch in hand, followed by all but two, the
stricken man and another, who hastily retreated towards the mouth of the
cavern.



CHAPTER FORTY FOUR.

ILLAPA.

We were safe yet, and I felt quite hopeful as I thought of what an
advantage we, as defenders, possessed in the darkness over an attacking
party advancing light in hand.

The sight, too, of the superstitious terror of the Indians was cheering,
and I again felt assured that should Garcia persevere in his
determination to search our part of the cave, he must seek other
companions or else come alone.

"Tom," I said then, gently, "we have been away some time now; creep back
to my uncle and tell him quietly that the Indians are in the cave, but
at present there is no danger to fear.  Ask him, though, to put out the
light in case they should come this way."

Tom made no answer, but crept away directly, leaving me in that thick
darkness watching for the return of the enemy, and wondering whether we
should succeed in getting safely away.

My heart sank as I thought of our peril, with the cunning of the savage
and the European mingled to fight against us; while, as to our position,
we could set them, I was sure, at defiance here; but could we escape to
the river?  I still hoped that they would not penetrate our part,
forcing us to take to the raft; and at times I began to wonder whether
it would not be better to resist their entrance for the sake of saving
the mules, unless we could compel these to swim after the raft.

My reverie was broken by the return of Tom.

"All right, Mas'r Harry," he said; "they're in the dark now; but I think
Miss Lilla was disappointed because you didn't go.  I'll keep watch if
you'd like to go."

If I'd like to go!  I fought down the desire, though, just as a distant
echoing murmur, ever increasing, fell upon our ears, and we knew that
the searchers were on their way back.

Another minute, and with their last torch burning dimly they were
scrambling down from the rift to the cavern chamber, and then hurrying
away as fast as the obscurity would allow.

The hours glided by, and at last it became manifest that there was to be
no further search that night, so, with Tom, I cautiously made my way to
the mouth of the cavern, to find that the enemy had made their bivouac
just by the barrier, a bright fire illumining the broad arch, and
ruddying the swarthy faces that clustered round, some standing, some
lying about upon the sand, while a couple were evidently sentries and
stood motionless a little farther in, gazing towards the interior of the
cave.

"No more visitors to-night," whispered Tom.

Together we crept back--no light task--through the densely black maze,
but at last we felt our way to where we had watched, when Tom,
undertaking to be the first guard, I continued my journey to where
Lilla, wearied out, was fast sleeping in her mother's arms.

I told my uncle how we were situated, and then, after partaking of the
refreshment he offered me, I lay down for a couple of hours' sleep; but
I'm afraid I far exceeded it before I awoke with a start to try and
recall where we were.  Soon after, though, I was at Tom's side, to find
that he had twice been to the cave mouth to see the sentries still
posted, and the rest of the Indian party sleeping round the fire.

I should think that four hours must have elapsed, and then, at one and
the same moment, I heard Tom's whisper and saw the distant glimmer of
approaching lights.

"Look out, Mas'r Harry!"

The lights grew brighter moment by moment, and then we could see once
more the party of Indians coming slowly forward, headed by Garcia, upon
whose fierce face the torch he carried flashed again and again.

But it soon became evident that the Indians were advancing very
unwillingly; and more than once, when, alarmed by the light, one of the
great birds went flapping and screaming by, there was a suppressed yell,
and the men crowded together as if for mutual protection.

At last they stood together in the centre of the vault, and Garcia made
a hasty survey, pausing at last by the passage, where we watched him
hold up his light and peer down it, and then turn to his companions.

The conversation we could not understand, but it was evident that Garcia
was urging them to follow him, and that they refused.

"Say, Mas'r Harry," whispered Tom, "why, if we could be in the
bird-chamber and fire off both guns, how those <DW65>s would cut and run
like a lot of schoolboys."

"Hist!"  I said softly.

For Garcia was now evidently appealing most strongly to one who appeared
to be the leader of the Indians--a tall, bronzed giant of a fellow, who
pointed, waved his arms about, and made some long reply.

"I'd give something to understand all that, Mas'r Harry," whispered Tom.

"He says that if the senor's enemies and the searchers for the sacred
treasure are in this direction, the great spirit who dwells in this part
of the cave has flown with them down into the great hole that reaches
right through the world."

"Uncle!"  I exclaimed, as he whispered these words close to our ears.

"I was uneasy about you, Harry," he replied.  "But who is that--Garcia?
Ah! he will never get the Indians to come here.  They dread this gloomy
place, and believe it is full of the departed souls of their tribe.  I
have heard that they will never come beyond a certain point, and this
must be the point."

Standing where we did we could plainly see all that was taking place,
even to the working of the excited countenances.  Garcia was evidently
furious with disappointment, and, as my uncle afterwards informed me,
spared neither taunt nor promise in his endeavours to get the Indians
forward, telling them that they risked far more from their gods by
leaving the treasure-takers unpunished than by going in there after
them.  He told them that they must proceed now--that it was imperative,
and as he spoke in a low, deep voice, it gave us a hint as to our own
remarks, for the cavern was like some great whispering gallery, and his
words came plainly to us, though few of them were intelligible to my
ear.

All Garcia's efforts seemed to be in vain, and the Indians were
apparently about to return, when our enemy made a last appeal.

"No," said the Indian, who was certainly the leader; "we have done our
part.  We have chased them to the home of the great god Illapa, and he
will punish them.  They took away the great treasure, but have they not
brought it back?  It would be offending him, and bringing down his wrath
upon us, if we did more.  If the treasure-seekers should escape, then we
would seize them; but they will not, for yonder is the great void where
Illapa dwells; and those who in olden times once dared to go as far were
swallowed up in the great home of thunder."

The Indian spoke reverently and with a display of dignity, beside which
the rage and gesticulations of Garcia looked contemptible.

As a last resource it seemed to strike him that he would once more have
the bird-chamber searched, and, appealing to the Indians, they
unwillingly climbed up to the ledge for the second time, and disappeared
through the rift, leaving Garcia, torch in one hand and pistol in the
other, guarding the passage where we crouched; now walking to and fro,
now coming close up to enter a few yards, holding his light above his
head; but darkness and silence were all that greeted him.  I trembled,
though, lest he should hear the whinnying of the mules, which, though
distant, might have reached to where he stood.  At last, to our great
relief, he stepped back into the vault, and began to pace to and fro.

For full two hours Garcia walked impatiently up and down there by the
torch he had stuck in the sand at the mouth of the passage, and then
came the murmurs of the returning voices of the savages, accompanied by
shriek after shriek of the frightened birds, scared by the lights which
were intruding upon their domain.

As the searching party descended, Garcia hurried towards them, seeing
evidently at a glance that they had no tidings, but now using every art
he could command to persuade the chief to follow him.  He pointed and
gesticulated, asserting apparently that he felt a certainty of our being
in the farther portion of the passage where his torch was stuck.  But
always there was the same grave courtesy, mingled with a solemnity of
demeanour on the chief's part, as if the subject of the inner cavern was
not to be approached without awe.

"We are safe, Harry," my uncle breathed in my ear at last.

For it was plain that, satisfied that their work was done, the Indians
were about to depart, when, apparently half mad with rage and
disappointment, Garcia cocked the pistols he had in his belt, replaced
them, and then, gun in one hand and torch in the other, he strode
towards the passage, evidently with the intention of exploring it alone.

The next moment a wild and mournful cry arose from the savage party,
while their chief seemed staggered at Garcia's boldness, but recovering
himself, he dashed forward, caught the half-breed by the arm, and strove
to drag him back.



CHAPTER FORTY FIVE.

TAKING A PRISONER.

A fierce struggle ensued, during which, for a few moments, the Indian
proved the stronger.  Garcia's torch was extinguished, and the savage
held him by clasping his arms tightly round his waist.  Then, with an
effort, Garcia shook his adversary off, snatched up a torch stuck in the
sand, and was already half a dozen yards down the passage, with our
party in full retreat, when, with a yell of horror, the chief bounded
after him, overtook him, and the struggle began anew.

An instant more and Garcia's gun exploded, raising a roar of thundering
echoes that was absolutely terrific.  Rolling volley after volley seemed
to follow one another with the rapidity of thought, the very cavern
appeared about to be crushed in, and, as we paused for an instant to
gaze back, we could see the chief and all his followers upon their
knees, their faces bent to the sand, and a dismal wailing chorus of
"Illapa!  Illapa!  Illapa!"--the Indians' name for the god of thunder--
could be fairly heard mingling with the rolling of the echoes.

The chief was in the same position, with a burning torch close to his
head, for which Garcia now returned, and stood for a moment hesitating,
as he gazed at the prostrate figures behind.

Would he dare to come on? or would he retreat? were now the questions we
asked ourselves.

The answer came in an instant, for Garcia was coming slowly on.  He
paused for a few minutes when he reached the spot where we had watched
from, and, stooping behind the rocks, he reloaded his piece; then, with
his light above his head and his gun held ready, he pressed on, lighting
us, though we were invisible to him, as we kept about fifty yards in
advance.

Twice over Tom wanted to fire; but he was restrained, for we hoped that,
moment by moment, Garcia would hesitate and turn back.  But no; there
was still the fierce satanic face, with its retiring forehead and
shortly-cut black hair, glistening in the torchlight, ever coming
forward out of the darkness, peering right and left, the torch now held
down to seek for footprints in the sand, now to search behind some mass
of crags.

On came the light nearer and nearer, illumining the gloomy passage, and
sending before it the dark shadows of the rocks in many a grotesque
form.

From where I stooped I could just catch sight of the sardonic face, with
its rolling eyes, which scanned every cranny and crag.  Twenty yards--
ten yards--five yards--he was close at hand now, when from far-off came
the low whinny of a mule, followed directly by another.

In an instant Garcia stopped short to listen.  Then the sardonic smile
upon his face grew more pronounced, and, casting off his hesitation, he
once more stepped forward nearer--nearer, till his torch, elevated as it
was, shed its light upon us.  But he did not yet distinguish us from the
rock around, and the next two steps bore him past, when his eye fell
upon the flash of light from my gun-barrel, and, with an ejaculation in
Spanish, he turned upon me, and we were face to face.  But ere his heart
could have made many pulsations Tom's coat was over his head, the torch
fell to the ground, to lie burning feebly upon the soil, there was a
fierce struggle, and the swaying to and fro of wrestlers, the torch was
trampled out, and then in the darkness there was the sound of a heavy
fall, and, panting with exertion, Tom exclaimed:

"I'm sitting on his head, Mas'r Harry, and he can't bite now.  Just you
tie his legs together with your handkercher."

I had thrown the gun aside, and, in spite of a few frantic plunges,
succeeded in firmly binding the ankles of the prostrate man together.

"Now, Mas'r Harry," whispered Tom, "take hold of one arm--hold it
tight--and we'll turn him over on his face, and tie his hands behind his
back.  Hold tight, for he's a slippery chap, and he'll make another
fight for it.  He got away from me once, but I had him again directly.
Now, then, over with him!  Here, ask your uncle to hold his legs down."

There was a heave, a struggle, and then a half-suffocated voice
exclaimed:

"Tom!  Harry! are you both mad?"

"Oh, Tom!"  I ejaculated; "what have you done?"

"Ketched the wrong bird, Mas'r Harry, and no mistake," muttered Tom, as
he hastily set my uncle at liberty.  "It was that darkness as done it.
He slipped away like an eel just as the light went out."

"Never mind," gasped my uncle.  "But what muscles you boys have!"

"He did not go towards the entrance," I whispered excitedly, "and I have
his gun.  If we are careful we shall have him yet."

Then I could not help shuddering as I rejoiced over the merciful policy
we had determined upon; for I thought how easily we might have caused
the death of one of our own party.

"It was an unlucky mistake, lads," whispered my uncle; "but we must have
him, living or dead."

The rest of the way to where we had left the companions of our trial was
so narrow that by pressing cautiously forward I knew that we must
encounter Garcia sooner or later.

As we reached the part where the track ran along a ledge we divided, Tom
continuing to walk along the ledge to where it terminated in the rocky
tongue over the great gulf, while my uncle and I, trembling for those we
loved, continued our search by the side of the little stream till we
were where the passage widened into the vault where the mules were
concealed, when I stopped short, my uncle going forward to search the
vault, while I stayed to cut off the enemy's retreat, or to spring up
the ledge to the help of Tom.

I heard my uncle's whisper, and one or two timid replies, and then came
an interval of anxious silence before my uncle crept back to me.

"I have been all over the place, as near as I can tell, Harry," he
whispered.  "Can he have passed us?"

"Impossible!"  I said.  "Uncle, we must have a light."

Without a word my uncle glided away; then I heard a rustle as of paper;
there was the faint glow of a match dipped in a phosphorus bottle, the
illumination of a large loose piece of paper, and then a torch was lit,
showing us Garcia standing upon the extreme verge of the rocky point
over the gulf; and at the same moment he drew the trigger of a pistol,
to produce only a flash of the pan, which revealed to him his perilous
position.

"Senor Garcia!"  I cried loudly, as I climbed up to join Tom on the
ledge which he must pass, "you are standing with a great gulf behind and
on either side.  A step is certain death.  You are our prisoner!"

With a howl like that of a wild beast he raised his other pistol and
fired--the report echoing fearfully from the great abyss.  Then, darting
forward, he leaped upon Tom, overturned him, and the next moment he was
upon me, and we were in a deadly embrace, rolling down the side of the
ledge, over and over in our fierce struggle, till we reached the little
stream, whose waters were soon foaming around us.

Garcia was active as one of the jaguars of the forest hard by; but I was
young, and my muscles were pretty tough.  And, besides, a faint shriek
that I had heard as he dashed at me had given me nerve for the struggle.

It is hard to say, though, who would have gained the upper hand, for my
principal efforts were directed at preventing him from drawing his
knife, whilst I had his arms fast to his side, he all the while striving
to free himself.

I began to be hopeful, though, at last, when, by a feint, he got me
beneath him, and the next moment he had forced my head beneath the icy
waters of the little stream.  Very few minutes would have sufficed, for
I could feel myself growing weaker; but there was help at hand.  We were
dragged out, and by the time I had recovered myself sufficiently to
wring the water from my eyes, and, with my temples throbbing, to gaze
about, there was Garcia pinned to the ground by Tom, whose foot was upon
the villain's throat, and his gun-barrel pointed at his head.

"Now, then, Mas'r Harry," said Tom, "we've got the right one this time
anyhow.  Here, come and stick your torch in here, Mas'r Landell, and
we'll soon make it right."

My uncle did as he was requested; and then, once more, Garcia made a
savage fight for his liberty.

But it was in vain; and while I helped to hold him down Tom tightly
bound his legs, my uncle performing the same operation with the
prisoner's hands.

"That ain't no good, Mas'r Landell," said Tom.  "He'll wriggle them
loose in no time.  Look here, I'll show you.  Turn him over."

There was no heed paid to the savage glare nor the muttered Spanish
oaths of our prisoner, as he was forced over on his face, when,
producing some string, Tom placed Garcia's hands back to back, and then
tightly tied his thumbs and his little fingers together with the stout
twine.  A handkerchief was next bound round the wrists, and Tom rose.

"He won't get over that, Mas'r Landell.  He'll lie there as long as we
like--only, if he don't hold his tongue, we'll stick something in his
mouth; and he may thank his stars that he has got off so well.  And now,
Mas'r Harry, I proposes that we all go back and see what the Indians are
doing; and if they are not gone, why, we'll all fire our guns off one
after the other, as'll kick up such a hooroar as'll scare 'em into
fits."

Tom's advice found favour; but it was not until I had thoroughly
satisfied myself of the security of my enemy's bonds that I had the
heart to leave.

Then, and then only, we crept cautiously back, till, after a long and
painful walk, we perceived the faint glow from the burning torches in
the vault of the entrance to the bird-chamber, and on making our way
once more, as near as we dared go, we could see that the Indians were
clustered together, and anxiously watching the passage.

Stepping back, then, thirty or forty paces, we fired off six barrels in
quick succession, with an effect that startled even ourselves, and, had
the thundering roar been followed by the falling in of block after block
of stone, I, for one, should not have been surprised.  It seemed as
though the noise would never cease; but when, with the last
reverberation dying away, we crept forward, it was only to find that
there was darkness everywhere, for the Indians to the last man had fled.



CHAPTER FORTY SIX.

TAKING FLIGHT.

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.



CHAPTER FORTY SEVEN.

ON THE RIVER'S BRINK.

"Now we can see what we're about, Mas'r Harry," said Tom cheerfully.
"Look, there's the first peep of where the sun's coming, and if we'd
been boxing the compass all night we couldn't have been trundling more
south-easter than we are.  Hooroar, Miss Lilla, keep up your sperrits,
and we shall soon be all right."

Lilla smiled a response, and, cheered by the bright day, we made good
progress during the next two hours before the mules began to flag, when,
letting them graze, we made a short and hasty meal ourselves, each eye
scanning the forest round for enemies, such as we knew might spring up
at any moment.

An hour's rest taken of necessity, and then we were once more journeying
on, hopeful that we might soon strike upon one of the tributaries of the
great stream fed by the eternal snow of the mountains; but hours went
by, and no sign of river appeared, till suddenly, Tom, who was in
advance, said softly:

"Here's water somewhere, not far off, Mas'r Landell, for my mule's
cocking his nose up, and sniffing at a fine rate."

There was no doubt of its being the case, for no sooner had Tom's beast
given evidence of its power of scent, than similar manifestations
followed from the others; and now, instead of nagging and labouring
along, the hot and wearied beasts broke into a trot, and had to be
restrained as they tugged at the bridles.

The character of the undergrowth now, too, began to indicate moisture,
and that floods sometimes swept along the low flat jungle, where we with
some difficulty forced our way; and at last, almost overcome by the heat
and excitement, we came suddenly upon one of the broad sluggish streams
that intersect the vast forest lands, and go to form the vast water
system of the Orinoco.  The stream, in spite of its sombre current and
the desolation of its muddy banks, whispered to us hope and escape from
the pursuit that might be now even pressing upon our heels.

My uncle and I hurried forward to scan the bank, ready to shoot at any
noxious reptile that might show fight.  But we were not called upon to
fire; for though a couple of large crocodiles scuttled off into the
water, and once or twice there was a sharp rustling amongst the reeds,
we were unmolested; and bringing forward our weaker companions, we made
a temporary halt.

Now it is quite possible that, had I been a naturalist, I might have
called the horrible reptiles that abounded in these muddy streams by
some other name than crocodile; but even now, after consulting various
authorities, I am not quite satisfied as to the proper term.  The
English of the district always called them crocodiles, and to me they
certainly seemed to differ from the alligator or cayman, whose
acquaintance I afterwards made amongst the lagoons of the Southern
United States.

But to return to our position on the river bank.

We knew that there was no time to be lost; and having cut a few stout
bamboos, we inflated the four skins we had, but not without some
difficulty, as they required soaking, and the tying up of one or two
failing places.

Our little raft was at length made, and, provided with a couple of
poles, afforded easy means of escape for three--at a pinch for four.

And now came the arrangements for the gold.

It seemed cruel, but, situated as we were, what else could we do?  I did
not like the plan, but could see no alternative; so with Tom's aid the
mules were unloaded, and we led the poor brutes into the leafy screen,
so that Lilla and her mother might not be witnesses of how they were to
be offered up for our safety.

For our plan was this--to slay the poor beasts, and with their inflated
skins to try and make a raft that should bear Tom, myself, and the gold.

My heart failed me as the faithful brutes, that had brought us thus far,
turned their great soft eyes up to mine, and for a few minutes I
hesitated, trying to think out some other plan for our escape, when a
warning cry from my uncle brought Tom and myself back to the river bank,
where we could see, half a mile higher up the stream, a couple of
canoes, each containing two Indians, who were lazily paddling down
towards where we were.

At first we took them for enemies, and gave ourselves up for lost; and I
was about to beg of my uncle to risk flight with Lilla and my aunt upon
the little raft, while I and Tom covered their escape with our guns; but
the distance being lessened each moment, we could make out that these
men belonged to one of the inoffensive fishing tribes who lived upon the
rivers and their banks; and a new thought struck me--one which I
directly communicated to my uncle.

"Keep strict guard," I then said, "and mind this--a loud whistle shall
bring us directly back to your help.  Come, Tom--bring your gun, man!"

The next minute Tom and I were upon the raft, dragging ourselves slowly
upstream by means of the bushes that overhung the river, till we found
that the Indians could see our coming, when we began to paddle the best
way we could out towards the middle.

As I expected, the Indians first stopped, and then made as if to turn
round and flee, raising their paddles for a fierce dash, when--

"Now, Tom!"  I exclaimed; and, standing up together, we presented our
guns as if about to fire.

"Ah! they're like the crows at home," muttered Tom; "they know what a
gun is."

Tom was right; for the poor fellows uttered a wail of misery, held up
their paddles, and then suffered their canoes to drift helplessly
towards us.

"Quick, Tom!"  I now exclaimed; "lay down your gun; and try and fight
against this stream, or we shall lose them after all."

Tom seized the bamboo pole, and by rapid beating of the water contrived
to keep the raft stationary till the Indians were nearly abreast, when,
pointing to the bank from which we had come, and still menacing them
with my gun, I made the poor timid creatures slowly precede us, and tow
us as well, to where my uncle was anxiously watching.

Upon landing, the poor fellows crouched before us, and laid their
foreheads upon the muddy grass; when, after trying to reassure them, my
uncle, who knew a little of their barbarous tongue, explained that we
only wanted their canoes; when, overjoyed at escaping with their lives,
the poor abject creatures eagerly forced the paddles into our hands.

"Tell them, Uncle, that we don't want their fishing-gear," I said; when
there was a fresh demonstration of joy, and Tom threw out their rough
lines and nets on to the grass.

"They may as well help us load, Mas'r Harry, mayn't they?" said Tom--a
proposition I at once agreed to.

In a very short space of time the gold was all placed in one canoe while
we tethered the other by a short rope to the raft: this boat contained
the provisions and ammunition, and in this Tom and I were to go, towing
the gold canoe and the raft, upon which more convenient place my uncle,
armed and watchful while we paddled, was to sit with Lilla and my aunt.

It was nearly dark when our arrangements were at an end; and thankful
that, so far, we had been uninterrupted, I drew the raft close in,
secured it to our canoe, and Tom took his place, paddle in hand.  My
uncle made a couple of good easy seats for Lilla and my aunt, and then
took his place beside them; and now nothing was wanted but for me to
take a paddle beside Tom, when he exclaimed:

"This here stuff makes the canoe all hang to the starn, Mas'r Harry.
Tell you what, I'll go in that canoe for the present, and get the
freight shifted, and then join you again."

I nodded acquiescence, and then turned to the poor miserable creatures
whom we seemed to be robbing, and who now stood, dejected of aspect,
watching us.

"What shall I give them?"  I thought.  "A gun--a knife or two?  Pish!
how absurd!  Here--here!"  I exclaimed, catching the two nearest savages
by the hand and hastily drawing them into the brake, when the others
followed.  "One apiece for you, my good fellows, and you gain by the
exchange."

They could not understand my word; but as I pointed to the animals
tethered in the gloom, and then placed the bridle of a mule in each of
the four men's hands, their joy seemed unbounded, and, with a nod and a
smile, I was turning to depart, eager to continue our flight, when a
wild cry from the raft seemed to fix me to the spot.



CHAPTER FORTY EIGHT.

IN THE DARK.

The cry was repeated twice before I could make a dash through the thick
swampy growth towards the bank.

"Quick--quick, Harry!  They are here!"

"Mas'r Harry!" cried Tom in a piteous voice.

The next moment I was on the trampled bank a little below where we had
landed, to see in a moment that the little raft was being pushed off;
for in cat-like silence our enemies had approached us, and I bitterly
repented that I had not joined Tom, instead of wasting time over the
fishers whose canoes we had taken.  I knew that not a moment had been
wasted, and that it would have been impossible to have half-made another
raft by this time; but the means of safety had been open to me, and, so
as to be fair, I had slighted it; while now I was in despair.

Those were terrible moments!  As I emerged from the brake there arose a
fierce yell; there was a scattered volley, and the flashes gave me a
momentary glimpse of the pale face of Lilla upon the raft.  Then there
was the loud splashing of the water, and the hurrying to and fro of
dimly-seen figures--for the darkness was now deepening with that
rapidity only known in equatorial regions.

A moment after, I heard the splashing of water, as of some one swimming;
and feeling that it was my only chance, I prepared to dash into the
muddy current, when there was a crash, a hoarse cry, and a heavy body
struck me on the back, driving me down upon my hands and knees, a tight
clutch was upon my throat, and I felt that I was a prisoner, when, with
a despairing effort for liberty, I threw myself sidewise towards the
river, rolled over in the mud, and then my adversary and I were beneath
the water.

We rose directly, and I felt that I was free; for, with a guttural cry,
my foe loosened his hold and made for the bank, while, blinded and
confused, I swam desperately in the direction I thought might have been
taken by the raft.

I almost dashed through the water for a few minutes, as I tried to put
in force every feint I knew in swimming; while, as I made the current
foam around, I could hear the noise of struggling, muttered
imprecations, and then a low, panting breathing, and then once more
there was silence.

I began to feel that I had made my last effort, and I was nerving myself
for another stroke when my hand touched something hard.

"Loose your hold or I fire!" cried a fierce voice, and the barrel of a
gun was pressed against my cheek.

"Uncle!"  I gasped, in a voice that did not sound like mine, and as I
spoke I grasped the cold barrel of the gun.

There was a loud ejaculation, a faint cry, hands were holding mine, I
could feel the raft rocking to and fro, as if about to be overturned;
and then, as I felt that I was drawn upon it--that I was saved--my
senses reeled, and my mind became dark as the sky which hung over the
river.

I believe my swoon did not last many minutes.  How could it, when my
head was being held to my aunt's breast, which heaved with emotion, and
hot tears were falling upon my forehead.

"Lilla?"  I whispered.

"Harry!" was breathed upon my cheek, as she came forward.

But this was no time for talking, and rallying my strength I rose to my
knees.

"I thought I should never have reached you, Uncle," I said.

"I did my best, Harry," he whispered; "but I felt that when those
blood-hounds leaped suddenly out from the brake that I must push off."

"But what was that struggle I heard?  Did I not hear Garcia's voice?"

"Yes," said my uncle, huskily.

"And where is Tom?"

My uncle was silent.

"Poor Tom?"  I said, in an inquiring voice.

"Yes," said my uncle, huskily.  "It seemed to me that Garcia and another
reached the canoe Tom was in--the gold canoe, Harry--and that then there
was a desperate fight, which lasted some minutes.  I had seized the
paddle, and tried to make for where the struggle seemed to be going on;
but first there was a faint, gurgling cry, and then utter silence; and
though I softly paddled here and there I could find nothing.  Harry,
that canoe was heavily laden--the gold was a dead weight--"

"And it took down with it what was worth ten thousand times more than
the vile yellow trash," I cried bitterly--"as true a heart as ever beat.
Oh, Uncle--Uncle!  I have murdered as noble a man as ever breathed, and
as faithful a friend.  Oh, Tom--Tom!"  I groaned.

I could say no more; but out there that night on the breast of the
black, swift stream, with not a sound now but the sobs of the women to
break the terrible silence, I--a woman myself now in heart--bent down to
cover my face with my hands and cry like a child.

At last I grew more calm, for there was work to be done.  I found that
we had floated on to a kind of mud bank, and were aground, and I had to
help my uncle to get the raft off, which we managed by drawing the canoe
up alongside, and then getting in and paddling hard, with the effect
that the raft at last floated off, and we retained our places in the
canoe guiding the raft down the swiftly flowing stream.

Morning at last, to bring no brightness to my heart.

We paddled on, the little raft, buoyant as possible, following swiftly
in our wake.

"Harry," said my uncle, almost sternly, "I have thought it over during
the darkness of the night, and I cannot feel that we have been wanting
in any way.  Poor lad! it was his fate."

"Uncle," I cried, throwing down my paddle, "I can bear this no longer.
I must go back!"

"Harry," cried my uncle, "you shall not act in that mad fashion.  You
have escaped with life, and now you would throw it away."

"Is it not mine to cast away if I like?"  I said bitterly.

"No," he said in a low tone, as he bent forward and whispered something
in my ear.

"Say no more, Uncle--pray say no more," I groaned.  "Indeed, I believe
that I am half mad.  I would almost sooner have died myself than that
this should have happened.  How can I ever face those at home?"

"Harry, my lad," said my uncle, "take up your paddle, and use it.  You
are thinking of the future--duty says that you must think now of the
present.  We have two lives to save; and, until we have them in one of
the settled towns, our work is not done."

I took up my paddle in silence, and plunged the blade in the stream, and
we went on, swiftly and silently, along reach after reach of the river.

Many hours passed without an alarm, and then, just as we were passing
into another and a wider river, there came from the jungly edge of the
left bank a puff of smoke, and a bullet struck the canoe.

"To the right," whispered my uncle softly; "we shall soon be out of
that."

The paddles being swiftly plied, we made for the opposite bank, striving
hard to place those we had with us out of reach of harm.  But with
bullets flying after us our efforts seemed very slow, and the raft was
struck twice, and the water splashed over us several times, before I
felt a sharp blow on my shoulder--one which half numbed me--while a
bullet fell down into the bottom of the canoe.

"Spent shot, Harry," said my uncle, striking on alternate sides with his
paddle, for I was helpless for the next quarter of an hour.  "There will
be no wound, only a little pain."

The skin-raft held together well--light and buoyant--so that our
progress down stream was swift, but apparently endless, day after day,
till our provisions were quite exhausted, and our guns had to be called
into requisition to supply us with food.

We were suffering too much to appreciate the wonders of the region
through which we were passing; but I have since then often recalled it
here at home in the quiet safety of my chair by my fireside, wondering
often too how it was that we managed ever to get down to a civilised
town in safety.

There was, of course, always the consciousness of knowing that, if we
kept afloat, sooner or later we must reach the sea; but what an
interminable way it was!  At one time we were slowly gliding down a wide
river whose banks were not only covered to the water's edge with the
dense growth of the primeval forest, but the huge branches of the great
trees spread far over the muddy flood.  These trees were woven together,
as it were, by the huge cable-like lianas which ran from tree to tree.
From others hung the draperies of Spanish moss, while others were
clothed with flowers from the water's edge to the very summits, whose
sweet blooms filled the air with their spicy odours.  This wondrous wall
of verdure rose to a great height; and when the current sometimes swept
us near what was really a shoreless shore great herons would sometimes
take flight, or a troop of monkeys rush chattering up amongst the leafy
branches, going along hand over hand with the most astonishing velocity,
or making bounds that I would think must end in their falling headlong
into the river.  But no, they never seemed to miss the branch that was
their aim, and this, too, when often enough one of these agile little
creatures would be a mother with a couple of tiny young ones clinging so
tightly to her neck that the three bodies seemed to be only one.

Curious little creatures these monkeys were, but as a rule exceedingly
shy.  Sometimes on a hot mid-day I would be seated listlessly, paddle in
hand, dipping it now and then to avoid some mass of tangled driftwood,
and then watching the great wall of verdure, I would see the leaves
shake a little and then all would be still; but if I watched attentively
as we glided by, it was a great chance if I did not see some little,
dark, hairy face gazing intently down at me with the sharp, eager eyes
scanning my every movement, and if I raised a hand the little face was
gone like magic, a rustling leaf or waving strand of some
convolvulus-like plant being all that was left to show where the little
creature had been.

At other times, instead of the winding river with its walls of verdure,
we passed into what seemed to be some vast island-studded lake, some
being patches of considerable extent, others mere islets of a dozen
yards across, but all covered with trees and tangled with undergrowth.
Landing on any of these was quite impossible unless through one of the
verdant tunnels in which now and then there would be a swirl of the
water that formed their bottom, showing where some huge reptile had
dived at the sight of our boat and raft; while at other times a great
snout, with the two eminences above its eyes, would be thrust out of the
water and then slowly subside, to be seen no more.

At these times the current swept us through winding channels in and out
among the islands, and if I could have felt in better spirits I should
have found endless pleasure in investigating the various beauties of the
vegetable world: the great trumpet-shaped flowers that hung from some of
the vines, with endless little flitting and poising gems of
humming-birds feeding upon the nectar within the blossoms.  Then
squirrels could be seen running from branch to branch, at times boldly
in sight, at others timid as the other occupants of the tree, the
palm-cats, that were almost as active.

Once I caught sight of the spots of a jaguar as the agile beast crept
along a branch in its hunt for food, the object of its aim being a group
of little chattering and squealing monkeys which were feasting on the
berries of a leafy tree.

Lilla shuddered on one occasion as I pointed out the long, twiny body of
a large boa which was sluggishly making its way through the dense
foliage of an india-rubber tree, apparently to get in a good position
where it could secure itself in ambush, ready for striking at any bird
that might come within its reach.

As it happened the current drove us right in close to the tree and
beneath some of its overhanging branches, with the result that the
creature ceased its slow gliding movement through the dense leafage, and
raised its head and four or five feet of its neck, swaying it slowly to
and fro as if hesitating whether or no to make a dart at us.

It was by no means a pleasant moment, and I felt for the time something
of the sensation that I had so often read of as suffered by people who
have been fascinated by snakes.  I had a gun lying close by me, but I
made no movement to reach it; and though I had a paddle in my hand I
believe that, if the creature had lowered its head, I should not have
struck at it.  In short, I could do nothing but gaze at that waving,
swaying head, with the glistening eyes, and the beautiful yellow and
brown tortoiseshell-like markings of the neck and body.

Then the stream swept us slowly away, and we were beyond the reptile's
reach.

Taking; the recollection of these wild creatures of the South American
forests, though, altogether, there was not so much cause for fear.  As a
rule every noxious beast seemed to aim at but one thing, and that was to
escape from man.  Even the great alligators, unless they could find him
at a disadvantage in their native element, would rush off through the
mud and undergrowth to plunge into the water and seek safety right at
the bottom of the river.  The jaguars were timid in the extreme; and
though they would have fought perhaps if driven to bay, their one idea
seemed to be to seek safety in flight.  It was the same with the
poisonous serpents, the most dangerous being a kind of miniature
rattlesnake which was too sluggish and indifferent to get out of the
traveller's way, and many a poor fellow suffered from their deadly bite.

In fact the most dangerous and troublesome creatures we had to encounter
on our journey down the river, excepting man, were the mosquitoes--which
swarmed all along the river borders and pestered us with their bites--
and an exceedingly small fish that seemed to be in myriads in parts of
the stream, and to make up in absolute ferocity for their want of size.
This savageness of nature was of course but their natural instinctive
desire for food, but it was dangerous in the extreme, as I knew later
on.  Our experience was in this wise:--

It was one lovely afternoon when we were floating dreamily along between
two of the most beautiful walls of verdure that we had seen.  Many of
the trees were gorgeous with blossoms, the consequence being that
bright-winged beetles, painted butterflies, and humming-birds abounded.

My uncle was seated half asleep with the heat, and his gun across his
knees, waiting for an opportunity to shoot some large bird that would be
good for food; I was dipping in my paddle from time to time so as to
keep the canoe's head straight and away from the awkward snags that
projected from the river here and there--the remains of trees that had
been washed out of the bank by some flood--and I was thinking
despondently about the loss of poor Tom.

Then my thoughts reverted to home and those I had to meet there, with
our accounts of how it was that poor Tom had met his death.

"All due to my miserable ambition," I said to myself; "all owing to my
wretched thirst for gold.  And what has it all come to?"  I said
bitterly.  "I had far better have settled down to honest,
straightforward labour.  I should have been better off."

I gave the paddle a few dips here, and noted that the water was much
purer and clearer than it had seemed yet.  We were very close in to the
shore, but we had floated down so far that we had ceased to fear the
Indians, believing as we did that they were now far behind.

Then I began to think once more of how much better off I should have
been if I had settled down to work on my uncle's plantation.

Not much, I was obliged to own, for my settling down would not have
saved me from quarrelling with Garcia, neither would it have cleared my
uncle from the incumbrance upon his home.

"Perhaps things are best as they are," I said; and then I looked back to
where Lilla was thoughtfully gazing down into the river from where she
reclined upon the raft, and letting one of her hands hang down in the
water, which she played with and splashed from time to time.

I was just going to warn her not to do so, for I remembered having read
or heard tell that alligators would sometimes make a snap at a hand
dragging in the water like that, when she uttered a sharp cry, snatching
her hand away; and as she did so I saw a little flash, as if a tiny,
silvery fish, dropped back into the water.

"What is it?"  I said.

"Something bit me--a little fish," she said.  "It has nipped a morsel
out of my finger."

She held up her hand as she spoke before wrapping a scrap of linen round
it, and I could see that it was bleeding freely.

"Surely it could not have been that tiny fish," I said, thrusting one
hand into the water and snatching it back again, for as it passed
beneath the surface it was as if it had been pinched in half a dozen
places at once; and when I thrust it in again I could see that the water
was alive with little fish apparently about a couple of inches long, and
instantaneously they made a rush at my hand, fastening upon it
everywhere, so that it needed a sharp shake to throw them off; and when
I drew it out, hardened and tough as it was with my late rough work, it
was bleeding in a dozen places.

"Why, the little wretches!"  I exclaimed; and by way of experiment I
held a piece of leather over the side, to find that it was attacked
furiously; while even later on, when I had been fishing and had caught a
small kind of mud-carp, I hauled it behind the canoe, in a few minutes
there was nothing left but the head--the little ravenous creatures
having literally devoured it all but the stronger bones.

I remember thinking how unpleasant it would be to bathe there, and often
and often afterwards we found that it would be absolutely impossible to
dip our hands beneath the water unless we wished to withdraw them
smarting and covered with blood.

What more these little creatures could effect we had yet to learn, but
we owned that they were as powerful in the water as the fiercer kind of
ants on land, where they were virulent enough in places to master even
the larger kinds of snakes if they could find them in a semi-torpid
state after a meal--biting with such virulence and in such myriads that
the most powerful creatures at last succumbed.

At last, as the days glided on, we became more and more silent.  Very
little was said, and only once did my uncle talk to me quietly about our
future, saying that we must get to one of the settlements on the
Orinoco, low down near its mouth, and then see what could be done.

A deep, settled melancholy seemed to have affected us all; but the
sight, after many days, of a small trading-boat seemed to inspire us
with hopefulness; and having, in exchange for a gun, obtained a fair
quantity of provisions, we continued our journey with lightened spirits.

In spite, though, of seeing now and then a trading-boat, we got at last
into a very dull and dreamy state; while, as is usually the case, the
weakest, and the one from whom you might expect the least, proved to
have the stoutest heart.  I allude, of course, to Lilla, who always
tried to cheer us on.

But there was a change coming--one which we little expected--just as,
after what seemed to be an endless journey, we came in sight of a town
which afterwards proved to be Angostura.



CHAPTER FORTY NINE.

HOW TOM SAVED THE TREASURE.

It was the afternoon of a glorious day, and we were floating along in
the broiling heat, now and then giving a dip with the paddles, so as to
direct the canoe more towards the bank, where we could see houses.
There was a boat here and a boat there, moored in the current; and now
and then we passed a canoe, while others seemed to be going in the same
direction as ourselves.

"Harry, look there!" cried my uncle.

I looked in the direction pointed-out ahead, shading my eyes with my
hand, when I dropped my paddle, as I rose up, trembling, in the boat;
for just at that moment, from a canoe being paddled towards us, there
came a faint but unmistakable English cheer--one to which I could not
respond for the choking feelings in my throat.

I rubbed my eyes, fancying that I must have been deceived, as the canoe
came nearer and nearer, but still slowly, till it grated against ours,
and my hands were held fast by those of honest old Tom, who was
laughing, crying, and talking all in a breath.

"And I've been thinking I was left behind, Mas'r Harry, and working away
to catch you; while all the time I've been paddling away."

"Tom!--Tom!"  I cried huskily, "we thought you dead!"

"But I ain't--not a bit of it, Mas'r Harry.  I'm as live as ever.  But
ain't you going to ask arter anything else?"

"Tom, you're alive," I said, in the thankfulness of my heart, "and that
is enough."

"No, 'tain't, Mas'r Harry," he whispered rather faintly; for now I saw
that he looked pale and exhausted.  "No, 'tain't enough; for I've got
all the stuff in the bottom here, just as we packed it in.  Ain't you
going to say `hooray!' for that, Mas'r Harry?" he cried, in rather
disappointed tones.

"Tom," I said, "life's worth a deal more than gold."  And then I turned
from him, for I could say no more.

We pushed in now to the landing-place, with a feeling of awakened
confidence, given--though I did not think of it then--by the knowledge
of our wealth; and leaving Tom in charge of the canoes, we sought the
first shelter we could obtain, and leaving there my uncle to watch over
the safety of the women, I set about making inquiries, and was
exceedingly fortunate in obtaining possession of a house that was
falling to ruin, having been lying deserted since quitted by an English
merchant a couple of years before.  A few inquiries, too, led us to the
discovery that there was an English vice-consul resident, to whom I told
so much of our story as was safe, mentioning the attack upon my uncle,
and speaking of myself as having merely been upon an exploring visit.

The result was a number of pleasant little attentions, the consul
sending up his servants to assist in making the house habitable, and
sending to buy for us such articles of furniture as would be necessary
for our immediate wants.

I took the first opportunity of impressing upon all present secrecy
respecting the treasure, for I could not tell in what light our
possession of it might be looked upon; and then I hurried down to the
canoes to Tom with refreshments, of which he eagerly partook, as he said
at intervals:

"I believe I should have been starved out, Mas'r Harry, if there hadn't
been some of the eatables stuffed in my canoe by mistake; for I'd got
nothing much to swop with the Indians when I did happen to see any
ashore."

It was then arranged that he should still stay with the boats till I
could return and tell him that I had a safe place, while as Tom lazily
stretched himself over the packages in the canoe, sheltering his head
with a few great leaves, his appearance excited no attention, and I left
him without much anxiety, to return to my uncle.

The discovery that Tom existed had robbed our perils of three parts of
their suffering; and now, with feelings of real anxiety respecting the
treasure springing up, I hurried back again to the landing-place, to
find all well, for the place was too Spanish and lazy for our coming to
create much excitement.

"Say, Mas'r Harry," cried Tom, grinning hugely, in spite of his pale
face and exhaustion, "I've got you now.  I said you was to let me have a
pound a week; I must go in for thirty bob after this.  Come, now, no
shirking.  Say yes, or I'm hanged if I don't scuttle the canoe."

It was evident, though, that Tom had undergone a great deal, and was far
from able to bear much more; for that evening, after telling the Indian
porters that I was a sort of curiosity and stone collector, and getting
the treasure carried up safely to the house which I had taken, he
suddenly gave a lurch, and would have fallen had I not caught his arm.

"Why, Tom!"  I cried anxiously.

"I think, Mas'r Harry," he said softly, "it might be as well if you was
to let a doctor look at me--it would be just as well.  I've a bullet in
me somewhere, and that knife--"

"Bullet--knife, Tom?"

"Yes, Mas'r Harry, that Garcia--but I'll tell you all about it after."

The doctor I hastily summoned looked serious as he examined Tom's hurts;
and though, with insular pride, I rather looked down upon Spanish
doctors, this gentleman soon proved himself of no mean skill in surgery,
and under his care Tom rapidly approached convalescence.

"You see, Mas'r Harry, it was after this fashion," said Tom one evening
as I sat by his bedside indulging in a cup of coffee, just when one of
the afternoon rains had cooled the earth, and the air that was wafted
through the open window was delicious.  "You see it was after this
fashion--"

"But are you strong enough to talk about it, Tom?"  I said anxiously.

"Strong, Mas'r Harry!  I could get a toller cask down out of a van.
Well, it was like this: I was, as you know, in the gold canoe; and being
on my knees, I was leaning over the side expecting you to swim off to
me, and at last, as I thought, there you was, when I held out my hands
and got hold of one of yours and the barrel of a gun with the other,
when a thought struck me--

"`Why, surely Mas'r Harry hadn't his gun with him?'

"But it was no time, I thought, for bothering about trifles, with the
night black as ink, and the Indians collected together upon the bank; so
I did the best I could to help you, and the next minute there you was in
the gold canoe, and not without nearly oversetting it, heavy-laden as
she was--when I whispers, `You'd best take a paddle here, Mas'r Harry,'
when I felt two hands at my throat, my head bent back, a knee forced
into my chest, and there in that black darkness I lay for a few minutes
quite stupid, calling myself all the fools I could think of for helping
someone on board that I knew now was not you.

"That was rather ticklish work, being choked as I was, Mas'r Harry,"
said Tom, with his pale face flushing up, and his eyes brightening with
the recollection; "but above all things, I couldn't help feeling then
that, if I did get a prick with a knife, I deserved it for being such a
donkey.  Then I got thinking about Sally Smith, and wishing that we had
parted better friends; then about you and Miss Lilla, and about how all
the gold would be lost; and then I turned savage, and seemed to see
blood, as I made up my mind that, if you didn't have the treasure, the
Don shouldn't, for I'd upset the canoe and sink it all first for the
crockydiles.

"I don't know what I said, and I don't much recollect what I did, only
that fox ever so long there was a reg'lar struggle going on, which made
that little canoe rock so that I expected every moment it would be
overset; but I s'pose we both meant that it shouldn't: and at last we
were lying quite still on the gold, with all round us black and quiet as
my lord's vault in the old churchyard at home.  Garcia had got tight
hold of my hands, and I kept him by that means so that he couldn't use
his sting--I mean his knife--you know, Mas'r Harry.

"It seemed to me at last that my best plan was to lie still and wait
till he give me a chance; for after one or two struggles I only found
that I was nowhere, and ever so much weaker; so I did lie still, waiting
for a chance, and wondering that Mas'r Landell didn't come and lend me a
hand.

"All at once there came a horrible thought to me, and that was--ah!
there were two horrible thoughts--that you had missed the canoe and had
gone down, and that the raft had broke away from the gold canoe while we
were jerking and rocking about, and that I was left alone here on this
big river, with the Don waiting for a chance to send that knife of his
through me.

"Now, you needn't go thinking it was because I cared anything about you,
Mas'r Harry," continued Tom in a sulky voice, "for it wasn't that: it
was only just because I was a weak great booby, and got a wondering what
your poor mother would say when I got home, and then, I couldn't help
it, if I didn't get crying away like a great girl kep' in at school, for
I don't know how long, and the canoe gliding away all the time on the
river.

"Getting rid of all that warm water made me less soft; and when Mas'r
Garcia got struggling again I give him two or three such wipes on the
head as must have wound him up a bit; and then, after nearly having the
boat over again, there we lay for hour after hour in the thick darkness,
getting stiff as stiff, as we kep' one another from doing mischief.  And
then at last came the light, with the fog hanging over the river, thick
as the old washus at home when Sally Smith took off the copper-lid and
got stirring up the clothes.  Then the sun came cutting through the
mist, chopping it up like golden wires through a cake of soap.  There
was the green stuff like a hedge on both sides of the river, the parrots
a-screaming, the crockydiles crawling on to the mud-banks or floating
down, the birds a-fishing, and all looking as bright as could be, while
my heart was black as a furnace-hole, Mas'r Harry, and that
black-looking Don was close aside me.

"I ain't of a murderous disposition, Mas'r Harry, but I felt very nasty
then, in that bright, clear morning, though all the time I was thinking
what a nice place this world would be if it wasn't for wild beasts, and
men as makes themselves worse; for there was that Don's eye saying as
plain as could be:--

"`There ain't room enough in this here canoe for both of us, young man!'

"`Then it's you as must go out of it, Don Spaniard,' says my eyes.

"`No; it's you as must go out of it, you beggarly little soap-boiling
Englishman,' says his eyes.

"`It's my Mas'r Harry's gold, and if he's gone to the crockydiles I'll
save the treasure for his Miss Lilla and the old folks--so now, then!'
says my eyes.

"And all this, you know, was without a word being spoke; when all at
once if he didn't make a sort of a jump, and before I knew where we were
he was at one end of the canoe and I was at the other.

"Well, you may say that was a good thing.  But it wasn't; for as I
scrambled up there he was with both guns at his end, and me with nothing
but my fisties.

"I saw through his dodge now, but it was too late; and in the next few
moments I thought three things:--

"`Shall I sit still like a man and let him shoot me?'

"`Shall I rock the canoe over and let it sink?'

"`Shall I go at him?'

"I hadn't pluck enough to sit still and be shot, Mas'r Harry, for you
know what a cur I always was; and I thought it a pity to sink the canoe
in case you, if you were alive, or Mas'r Landell, might come back to
look for it.  So I made up my mind to the last, being bristly, and, with
my monkey up, I dashed at him.

"_Bang_!  He got a shot at me, and I felt just as if some one had hit me
a blow with a stick hard enough to make me savage; but it didn't stop me
a bit, for I reached at him such a crack with my double fist just as he
struck his knife into me; and then we were overboard and struggling
together in the sunlit water, making it splash up all around.

"`It's all over with you, Tom!'  I said to myself; for as we rose to the
surface after our plunge he got one arm free, his knife was lifted, and
I looked him full in the face as I felt, though I didn't say it--`You
cowardly beggar! why can't you fight like a man with your fists?'

"The next moment he must have struck that knife into me again, when I
never see such a horrible change in my life as come over his face--from
savage joy to fear--for in a flash he let go the knife, shrieked
horribly, and half-forced himself out of the water, leaving me free,
when, with a terrible fear on me that the crockydiles were at him, I
swum for the canoe; and how, I don't know, I managed to get in, with
hundreds of tiny little fish leaping and darting at me like a shoal of
gudgeons, only they nipped pieces out of my hands and feet, which were
bare; and if I hadn't been quick they'd have had me to pieces.

"No sooner was I in the canoe than I turned, for Garcia was shrieking
horribly in a way that nearly drove me mad to hear him, as he beat, and
splashed, and tore about in the water--now down, now up, now fighting
this way, now that--wild with fear and despair, for those tiny fish were
at him by the thousand; his face and hands were streaming with blood,
and I could see that it would be all over with him directly, when,
catching up a paddle, I sent the canoe towards him, to pass close by his
hand just as he sank.

"To turn and come back was not many moments' work; but he didn't come up
where I expected, and I had to paddle back against stream, but again I
missed him, and he went down with a yell, Mas'r Harry, that's been
buzzing in my ears ever since--wakes me up of a night, it does, and
sends me in a cold perspiration as all the scene comes back again.

"I forgot all about his shooting and knifing me; and, Mas'r Harry, as I
hope to get back safe to old England I did all I could to save him when
he come up again--silent this time!  Did I say him?  No, it wasn't him,
but a horrible, gashly, bleeding mass of flesh and bone, writhing and
twisting as the little fish hung to it and leaped at it by thousands,
tearing him really to pieces before he once more sank under the stream,
which was all red with blood.

"I paddled here and I paddled there, frantically, but the body didn't
come up again; and then, Mas'r Harry, it seemed to me as if a strong
pair of hands had taken hold of the canoe and were twisting it round and
round, so that the river and the trees on the banks danced before my
eyes, making me that giddy that I fell back and lay, I don't know how
long.

"When I opened my eyes again, Mas'r Harry, I thought I was dying, for
there was a horrible sick feeling on me--one which lasted ever so long--
till, remembering all about what had taken place, I felt that I had only
been fainting; and, raising myself up, I looked on the river for a few
minutes, shuddering the while as I tried to leave off thinking about the
horrors in it; but try hard as I would, I couldn't help looking--the
place having a sort of way for me as if it was pulling me towards it--
and I seemed to see all that going on again, though, perhaps, I'd
floated down a good mile since it happened.

"At last I dragged my eyes from the water and they fell upon the
packages, and they made me think of you, Mas'r Harry; and, in the hope
that you were a long way on ahead, I took up a paddle--thinking, too, at
the same time, that if you was alive, as soon as you had got Miss Lilla
safe you would come back for me."

I did not speak--I could not just then; for in a flood the recollection
of the past came upon me, and taking Tom's hands in mine, for a good ten
minutes I sat without speaking.

"Well, Mas'r Harry," continued Tom--but speaking now in a thick, husky
voice--"I took up the paddle and then I dropped it again, I was that
weak, faint, and in pain; and it seemed to me that before I could do
anything else I must wash and bind up a bit.

"One of my hands was terribly crippled from my hurt, but I managed to
bind a couple of paddles together; and then, rowing slowly on, I was
thinking that my labour had been all in vain unless I could manage still
to save the gold, when, happening one day to turn round to look
upstream, I saw that, Mas'r Harry, as seemed to give me life, and hope,
and strength all in a moment; and you know the rest."



CHAPTER FIFTY.

THE USE OF THE TREASURE.

It is one thing being possessed of a treasure and another knowing what
to do with it.  Here was I with the fortune, as my uncle called it, of a
prince, found, as I had found it, and to which some people may say I had
no right, and I often thought so myself.  But on the other hand I felt
that I could do more good with it than it would do left there in the bed
of that stream--so many relics of a superstition--of a pagan idolatry
carried on three hundred years ago.  The traditions of its being hidden
there had of course been handed down, but it had never been seen since
it was buried at the time of the conquest, and all who had a right to it
had been dead for ages.

So I comforted myself that I was only the one who had brought it to
light, and that it was my duty to put it to as good a purpose as
possible, and that I meant to do.

Well, here I had the treasure; but the next thing was, should I be able
to keep it?

If the Indians could trace me and dared to come across the river all
this distance down and into the civilised region, I knew that my life
would not be safe, and that they would have the treasure back at any
cost.

But then it was not likely that the simple savages would venture after
me even if they could find out where I had come.

Then there were the Spaniards about us.  If they knew of the wealth we
had in the ordinary house of which we had taken possession they would
either get it away by legal means, claiming it as belonging to one or
the other government, or else make a regular filibustering descent upon
us and secure it by violence, even taking our lives as well.

Secrecy, then, seemed to be the only thing possible; and after a good
deal of thinking and planning, my uncle, Tom, and I constructed a little
furnace in a corner of the house, after boarding up the window and
covering it with blankets as well.  Here we purposed to melt down the
treasure into long ingots, which we hoped to mould in sand--little,
long, golden bars being the most convenient shape in which we could
carry our gold.

I knew even then that it was a great pity to destroy what were equally
valuable as curiosities as for their intrinsic worth as precious metal;
but any attempt to dispose of them would have meant confiscation, and
such a treasure was not to be introduced to the notice of strangers with
impunity.

My uncle joined with me in lamenting the difficulties of the case, and
that we should be under the necessity of melting the cups and plates
down; but he urged me to do it as soon as possible, and we soon set to
work, carrying on our metal fusing in secret by the help of a crucible
and a great deal of saltpetre, which soon helped to bring the heat to a
pitch where the gold would melt like so much lead, and then by the help
of a strong handle the pot was lifted out and its glowing contents
poured forth into the moulds.

The ingots we thus cast had to be filed and the rough projections taken
off, the dust and scraps being remelted down with the other portion.

It was a tremendous task, though.  The plates we managed pretty easily,
but the discs had to be cut up first by means of a great hammer and a
cold chisel, and the progress we made upon some days was very small.

The cups, too, were very difficult to manage; and Tom and I used to work
exceedingly hard, hammering and breaking the gold into small pieces that
would go into the melting-pot.  Sometimes our fingers were quite sore
with the hammering and filing.

Still we kept on making progress, nervous progress, lest people should
find out what we were about; and by slow degrees we added ingot to
ingot--little, bright, yellow bar after bar--to one heap, and bar after
bar of silver to another heap, which were kept buried under a stone in
the floor of one of the rooms.

Over and over again we hesitated before breaking up some
beautifully-worked cup, though without exception these had been battered
and flattened, perhaps three hundred years ago, for the convenience of
carriage and hiding from the Spaniards, who had gone west with such a
thirst for gold.  Several of the best cups were almost flat, the tough,
soft metal having evidently been driven in with blows from stones.

We did not get through our task without alarms; for now and then some
kindly-disposed person would call, and then we were obliged to hurriedly
conceal our work, smothering the fire, and this perhaps when we were at
some particular part of our task.  But there was no help for it, as we
were compelled to work by daylight for fear of the glow of our
furnace-fire taking attention if we attempted anything of the kind by
night.

That melting down was like a nightmare to me, and over and over again I
used to ask myself whether the gold were worth all this trouble.  Slave,
slave, slave, till our fingers were sore; and now I would be blistering
my hands with a small-toothed saw which Tom had bought one day and
brought home in triumph for cutting through the gold, and next time
toiling away with a great file.

Yes, it seemed as if we were working ourselves to death for this bright
yellow metal; and several times over, without being led up to it by me,
Tom quite took my view.

"S'pose this here stuff's going to be very useful, Mas'r Harry," he
said.

"Useful, Tom?"

"Ay!  I mean I hope it's going to be worth all this work and trouble.
My word, Mas'r Harry, soap-boiling's nothing to this!"

"Tired, Tom?"  I said.

"Tired, Mas'r Harry?  Not I!  But I tell you what I am, and that's hot."

"Yes, it is hot work, Tom," I said.

"Ay, Mas'r Harry, that's just what it is, 'specially when you gets
ladling out the soup and pouring it into the moulds.  Fine rich soup,
ain't it?" he said with a grin.

"The richest of the rich, Tom."

"Ah! it is, Mas'r Harry; but it is hot work, and no mistake, and it sets
me thinking a deal."

"Well, Tom, what of?"  I asked, for we were waiting for the melting.

"'Bout setting up soap-boiling out here, Mas'r Harry," he said,
grinning.

"Well, what about it, Tom?"

"'Twouldn't do, Mas'r Harry," said Tom.  "First of all, the work would
be a deal too hot; second of all, the trade wouldn't pay, 'cause the
people look as if they never washed.  No, Mas'r Harry, I don't think the
folks here are fond of soap."

Two months of hard toil did we spend over that melting down.  For first
of all, there was the preparation of the furnace; and a very hard task
that was, there being such difficulty in getting proper materials.
Stone seemed to go first into scales, and then into powder.  The bricks
we obtained cracked; and it was not until my uncle had mixed up some
clay in a peculiar manner, and beaten it up into bricks of a big, rough
shape, that we managed to get on.  These bricks we built up into the
furnace, and then slowly dried by leaving in a small fire; and this we
increased till it was hot enough to burn the rough bricks, which, as we
increased the fire to a furious pitch, seemed to fuse the whole together
into a solid mass.

Then we had our hiding-place to dig out; and all this work had to be
done in such a secret way that it used to make me think of Baron Trenck
in prison, so careful and watchful were we in all we did.

Industry mastered it all though at last; and, weary as Tom must have
been of his job, he began to feel at last that the gold was worth
working for.

"I usen't to think so at one time, Mas'r Harry," he said; "but since
I've been working away here, melting of myself away almost as fast as I
melted gold, it's seemed to me as if, when I get home, and Sally Smith
knows as I'm a gentleman with a large income of two pound a week, she
may be a bit more civil like to me."

"Very likely, Tom," I said smiling.

"That's just what I say, Mas'r Harry--very likely; that is, you know, if
there's anything more left of me than the ivory."

"Ivory, Tom?"  I said, wondering what he meant.

"Yes, Mas'r Harry--the bones, you know.  Don't you see, I mean if I
ain't melted all away."

Two months, I say, had it taken before the rich metal was all reduced to
neat little bars ready for packing up.

Then we had to discuss the question of the size and material of the
cases in which we were to carry home our treasure so as not to excite
suspicion.

"We must risk suspicion and inquiry too," said my uncle.  "Our way now,
Harry, is to get the stuff packed up and go straight away."

"I should do it quite openly," said Lilla quietly, "and if inquiries are
made you can say that the chests in which it is packed contain gold.  No
one can be suspicious then.  The people will only think that you are
very rich, and be the more respectful."

"You are right, Lilla," said my uncle.  "We can show our ingots--I mean
your ingots, Harry.  No one can prove how you came by them."

The result was that we boldly ordered some little cases to be made of
the strongest South American oak, and corded together and bound firmly
with hoop-iron; and into these, bedding them neatly with the finest
sawdust, we packed the little shining bars.



CHAPTER FIFTY ONE.

OUR TROUBLESOME BURDEN.

By the time we felt that we might very well make a start for home, we
found out that though Lilla's advice had seemed so good, it would not do
to act upon, and she laughingly owned that she was wrong.

For, feeling the necessity for obtaining a little spare cash in hand, my
uncle undertook to dispose of half a dozen of the little bars of gold,
and the adventures were such that he came back to me to say that we
should have to be very careful.

"It would never do to attempt a passage in a Spanish vessel boldly, my
boy.  The very sound of the word _gold_ seems to fill the people full of
suspicion, and the dealer I went to to-day has been questioning me in
all sorts of ways.  He thinks, evidently, that I have discovered a rich
gold mine somewhere, and is boiling with curiosity to know where."

"And you did not tell him, Uncle," I said laughing.

"No, my boy; but seriously, we must not make these people suspicious.
We have to pass through their custom-house places if we go in the
regular way, and if we attempt that, depend upon it we shall be stopped,
and have to give the fullest of explanations as to where the gold was
obtained, before we are allowed to quit the country, even if we are
then."

"Depend upon it, Uncle, we should not be allowed to go then.  How
vexatious!"  I ejaculated.  "After all this trouble it will be hard if
we are stopped now!  We will not be," I cried, with a stamp of the foot.
"I have succeeded so far, and if I fail it shall not be for want of
foresight."

"What do you mean, Harry?" said my uncle, who seemed to be pleased with
my energy and determination.

"I mean, Uncle, that if the treasure is lost it shall be through storm
and shipwreck, not from the scheming of men.  If they know of our rich
treasure they will plan to get it away from us.  Well, we must scheme
harder to save it.

"Here, let's take Tom into consultation," I said after a pause, and Tom
was called in.  "Here, Tom," I said, "we've got all the gold packed, how
are we to get it away?"

"How are you to get it away, Mas'r Harry?" he said, giving his head a
rub, not that it itched, but so as to clear his thoughts, I suppose.

"Yes.  How are we to get it away?"

"Stick direction cards on, same as we did with the soap boxes at home,
and shove it aboard ship."

"To be stopped as something contraband.  No, Tom, that won't do.  They
would want to know what it was."

"Serve them same as we did the Injins," said Tom grinning: "pretend as
they are all forsles and stigmy tights, as you called 'em, Mas'r Harry."

"That may do for Indians, but it will never do for people who are
civilised.  No, Tom, if you cannot give better advice than that, it is
of no use."

"That's the best I've got, Mas'r Harry," said Tom.  "I never was a good
one that way.  You tell me what to do and I'll do it.  And as for
sticking to you--There, Mas'r Landell, sir, haven't I stuck to Mas'r
Harry through thick and thin?"

"Most faithfully, Tom."

"Thanky, sir, thanky," cried Tom.

"Yes, yes, Tom, we know all about that," I said.  "No one doubts your
fidelity, but it is not the question.  We want to know what to do about
getting the treasure home safely."

"Oh!  Ah!  Yes, I see," said Tom, as if he had not understood before,
and it made me so vexed, what with being hot and nervous and bothered,
that I felt as if I should have liked to kick Master Tom.

"I have it," I exclaimed suddenly, and I gave the table a thump.

"He's got it," cried Tom, rubbing his hands.  "Mas'r Harry's got it,
Mas'r Landell, sir.  He's a wunner at hitting out things, he is."

"What is your idea, Harry?"

"It is rather a risky one, sir," I replied; "but it seems to me the only
likely one.  We must put up with some inconvenience to get our treasure
safe.  Once we are at a good British port, of course we need not mind,
and can do as we please."

"Well," he said, "what do you propose doing?"

"Find out some small vessel going to Jamaica, and arrange with the
captain to take us.  If we pay him pretty well he will ask no questions
about what our luggage is."

"And you might make him think it was forsles and them
what-you-may-call-'em tights.  He wouldn't be much cleverer than the
Injins," said Tom.

"We'll see about that, Tom," I said, and my uncle having approved of my
plan, we began at once to see if we could not set it in force.

It sounded very easy, but when I had to put it in practice I found it
extremely difficult, and to be hedged in with prickles of the sharpest
kind.

We wanted to go to Jamaica, as being a suitable port for our purpose,
and an easy one to obtain passage home in a mail steamer; but though I
could find small vessels, schooners, and brigs going everywhere else,
there did not seem to be one likely to sail for Kingston; and try how I
would, it appeared as if the very fact of our wanting to go otherwise
than by the regular mail route made our conduct suspicious.

In fact more than one of the skippers seemed to think so, and as a rule
they declined to take us, saying that it would get them into trouble,
while in one case, where the captain of a schooner eagerly agreed to
take us, merely stipulating to be well paid, the vessel was such a
cranky, ill-found affair that I shrank from trusting my aunt and Lilla
in such a crazy hull.

"There's a chap out in the river yonder going to sail for New York at
the end of the week, Mas'r Harry," said Tom one morning.  "I got into
conversation with him last night when I was smoking my pipe, and in
about half a minute he'd asked me what my name was, where I was born,
how many teeth I'd got, why I came here, what I was going to do next;
and when I told him I wanted to go back to England, he hit me over the
back and says: `Case o' dollars, stranger.  I'll take you.'  He's coming
to see you this morning."

About an hour after I saw a tall, thin, yellow-looking man coming up to
the house.  He had a narrow smooth face, and two very dark eyes that
seemed to have been squeezed close up to his nose--a sharp nose--and a
very projecting much-pointed chin.  His face was as devoid of hair as a
baby's, and taking him altogether, if Tom had not told me he was
curious, I should have said at once that he was a man who loved to ask
questions.

"Mornin', stranger," he said to both Tom and me, and then, with his
queer-looking sharp little eyes searching me all over, he went on: "I
guess you're the Englishman who wants to get home with all your tots."

"I am," I said.  "May I ask your name?"

"Perks," he said sharply.  "'Badiah P. Perks, o' New York.  What's
your'n?"

I told him.

"Hah, yes.  I could see you warn't an A-murray-can.  I'll take you if
you'll pay."

"Oh, I'll pay a reasonable fare for our party," I replied.

"Party, eh?  How many?"

"My uncle, his wife and daughter, and us two," I said.

"And that makes five, stranger.  Baggage?"

"Yes," I said, "Let's look."

I hesitated for a moment, and then took him into the room where our neat
little chests were packed, one on the top of the other, with a couple of
blankets thrown over them.

"Hah!" said the skipper, trying one of the iron-bound cases.  "Precious
heavy, mister.  What's in 'em?"

"Curiosities," I replied.

"Just so," he said, winking one eye.  "I said they was to myself soon as
I see the iron bands round 'em.  Wal, they'll weigh up pretty smart.
You'll have to pay for them."

"Of course," I said; "anything reasonable."

"That's square, mister," he said, scanning the whole place eagerly.
"Now, what might bring you out here, eh?"

"I came to see my uncle," I replied, annoyed at the fellow's
impertinence, but thinking it better to be civil.

"Did you, though, mister?  Find him?"

"Yes, I found him right enough."

"Did you, though?  Old man all right?"

"Quite right."

"Didn't stop with him, though?"

"No, we are all going home together."

"Wonder at it when you might stay in A-murray-kay.  I say, mister, you
know, what's in them chesties?"

He accompanied the question with a wink and a grin, and pointed over his
shoulder towards the cases.

"I told you," I replied, "curiosities."

"Are they, though?  Wonder what the custom chaps would call 'em when
they overhauled them, eh?"

I was silent, for it was evident that the fellow suspected me of a
desire to evade the regular authorities of the port.

"Come, mister," he said with a grin, evidently divining my thoughts,
"out with it, come; you want them chesties smuggled off on the quiet,
don't you now?  Best take 'Badiah P. Perks into confidence, I guess;
makes it smooth for all parties."

"If you like to take our party and luggage to New York, Mr Perks," I
said quietly, "I am ready, as my uncle will be ready, to pay you well
for the passage.  Is it agreed?"

"Luggage, of course, mister; but them there arn't luggage.  Curiosities,
didn't you say?  What's in 'em?"

"That is my affair, Mr Perks."

"'Badiah P. Perks, please mister.  Now, then, is it square and
confidence, and 'Badiah P. Perks' friends, or isn't it?"

"I shall place every confidence in the captain of our vessel, Mr
Perks."

"'Badiah P. Perks, mister."

"Mr Obadiah P. Perks," I said.

"Drop that O, stranger.  Don't belong.  'Badiah P. Perks, mister."

"Mr 'Badiah P. Perks," I said.

"And my folks calls me Kyaptin," said the skipper.  "Say, it's wonderful
how much ignorance there is 'mongst you Englishers.  Wal, I won't say
I'll take you, stranger, till I've brought one o' these here yellow
<DW65> officers to look over them chesties, and see if there's anything
in 'em as is contraband."

I could not help changing colour, and the fellow saw it.  He suspected
my motives evidently, and with a smile he turned to go, reaching the
door slowly and then pausing, as if he expected me to call him back, but
as I did not he hesitated.

"Say, mister," he said, "s'pose anny time'll do for me to bring down the
yaller <DW65> chap?"

I was so wroth with the scoundrel and his cool impudence that I took a
defiant tone and said shortly:

"Any time you like, Captain Perks."

"'Badiah P. Perks, mister.  All right.  I won't be long."

"But mind this," I said, "you are doing it for your own amusement, for I
shall advise my uncle not to go by your vessel."

"Riled, mister?  Jest a little bit, eh?  All right.  You'll cool down by
the time I've got the custom-house chap here, and then we can settle
terms."

He went off laughing, and for the moment I felt as if we were in his
power.

"All my labour will have been thrown away, Tom," I cried, "and we shall
be called upon for explanations that I cannot give."

I called my uncle into the consultation, and we agreed that the best
line to take was the defiant one.

"We are under no engagement to this fellow, Harry," said my uncle; "and
we need not enter into one, as he would fleece you--perhaps rob you.
For, once at sea on the vessel of such a man, he can play tyrant and do
as he pleases."

"You are right, uncle; we will not go.  But if he returns with one of
the Spanish officials, what then?"

"Set him at defiance; and if you are driven to extremities, appeal to
the British vice-consul for aid."



CHAPTER FIFTY TWO.

HELP AT A PINCH.

Captain Obadiah P. Perks came back at the end of an hour, when I had
pretty well ripened my plans, and, retiring within the house, I left Tom
to deal with him.

A tall, dark Spaniard was the captain's companion, and he might have
been an official or an impostor in the skipper's pay.  It was impossible
to judge, though he wore something purporting to be a uniform.

"Wal, mister," the skipper said to Tom, "where's your young boss?"

"Busy," said Tom, blocking the doorway and coolly smoking his pipe.

"Then just you go and tell him that Kyaptin 'Badiah P. Perks is here
with a gentleman who'll overhaul that stack o' chesties, and say whether
I can take 'em board o' my schooner without getting into trouble."

"Oh!  Mas'r Harry won't get you into no trouble, cap'en," said Tom, "nor
he won't give you no trouble.  He's altered his mind and won't go."

"Oh, no, he haven't," said the skipper.  "Just you go and say Kyaptin
'Badiah P. Perks is here and wants to see him tew wunst."

For answer Tom drew a long breath and puffed out a cloud of smoke at the
skipper.

"Air yew a-going?" said the latter.

"No," said Tom, "I air not.  My young master don't want you, nor your
ship, nor anything else.  You wouldn't take the job when you could get
it, so now it's gone."

The Yankee skipper turned of a warmer yellow, and there was a malignant
gleam in his closely-set eyes as he thrust one hand into his pocket and
drew it out directly.

"Here, I don't want to quarrel along o' you," he said sharply.  "Go and
tell him I want him, and he must come."

"Sha'n't," said Tom coolly.  "Who are you ordering about?  This here
ain't aboard ship."

"It would be okkard fur yew, boy, if it weer board ship," snarled the
skipper, going close up and thrusting his ugly face almost in Tom's.
"Yew just do as I tell yew, my lad, 'fore it's worse for yew.  Guess I
don't want to quarrel."

"And guess I don't want to quarrel with you," said Tom; "though I allus
have felt as if I should like to whack a sailor."

The man's hand went to his pocket again, but in spite of his furious
glances Tom did not for a moment quail, giving him back again look for
look.

"Guess it 'll be the worse for yew, stranger," said the skipper, "if you
don't go and fetch out that theer fellow o' yourn."

"Guess it 'll be the worse for you, skipper, if you get shoving that
sharp nose o' yours in my face," said Tom.  "You ain't skretched me with
it yet, but if you do, ware hawk!"

The man's face was a study.  He wanted evidently to seize Tom and thrust
him aside, but there was something so solid and muscular about Tom's
body, and something so hard and bull-like about Tom's head, that few
people would have cared to tackle him; and certainly, seeing how
determined he was, the skipper did not feel disposed.

"Here, hi! you Englisher," shouted the fellow, "come out.  I want a word
with you."

"I say, don't make that row front of our house," said Tom.  "There's
ladies here; and if you do it again I shall have to do what they does at
home with noisy people--move you on."

The skipper made a menacing movement towards Tom, and I was ready to go
to his assistance, but Tom did not stir, only clenched his hand slowly
in so ominous a manner that the skipper went no farther, but turned and
advanced to his companion, before again approaching my faithful
companion.

"Now, look ye here, mister," said the skipper.  "I don't want to hurt
you, so just you either get out o' the way or fetch your boss."

"If you don't get out," said Tom slowly, "I shall have to make you.
Mas'r Harry don't want no trade with you at all, so s'pose you be off
while your shoes are good."

"I will be off," said the skipper with a snarl, "and bring them here as
will open some of your eyes a bit, and them chesties too."

Then saying something in a whisper to his companion they both hurried
off, and for the rest of the day, in spite of the aspect I carried
before those in the house, I was in no little trepidation.

Late in the afternoon, when we had been expecting a call every moment
from some one in authority, and Tom had been waiting ready to run off at
the first attack to the British vice-consul, a quiet, firm-looking,
sailor-like man came up to where I was standing.

"Are you the Englishman who wants to go with his family to Kingston?"

"Yes," I said, looking at him earnestly, for I was wondering whether it
was a trap laid by the Yankee skipper.

"I just heard of it down at the wharf," he said.  "I'll take you, only I
sail to-night."

I was going to exclaim, "That's just what I want!" but restrained
myself, and said quietly, "That's a very short notice."

"Well, 'tis, sir; but I'm all laden, and time's money.  If you can be
ready I'll take you, and be glad to earn the passage money, and do the
best I can to make you and the ladies comfortable, but if you can't I
must lose the job."

"We will be ready, then," I said; "only I have these heavy chests to
go."

"Oh, they're nothing," said the skipper good-humouredly.  "I'll bring
the boat up abreast here, and four o' my lads.  We'll soon have them
in."

We soon settled about terms, which were reasonable enough, and promising
to be there with the boat in an hour, the man left.

"Well, Tom, what is it?"  I said excitedly.  "A trap or honesty?"

"Honesty, Mas'r Harry," he cried sharply.  "That chap's straight-forrard
enough."

"So I think," I cried, "and we'll risk it.  To-morrow we may be
stopped."

My aunt and Lilla were almost startled at the suddenness of the proposed
departure, and my uncle looked anxious; but they said nothing, only made
their final preparations, and soon after dark the fresh skipper came up
with half a dozen men.

"I thought I'd bring enough," he said.  "Now, my lads, be smart.  Chest
apiece, they ain't big."

It was all so sudden that my breath was almost taken away; but I had
said that I would risk it, and there was nothing else to do but go on.
In the darkness, too, it was hard to tell whether our property was all
being fairly dealt with, but I watched as keenly as I could, and Tom
went down to the boat with the first men, my uncle taking charge of
Lilla and my aunt, while I stopped back at the house and sent all the
luggage off.

It was pitchy dark now, and matters were carried out with a rapidity
that was startling.  In fact, in a quarter of an hour everything was on
board the heavy boat, the men in their places, my aunt, Lilla, and my
uncle in the stern sheets, and Tom and I were about to step in when
Lilla exclaimed:

"Oh, Harry!  I've left the great cloak in my room!"

I was about to exclaim "Never mind," and, in my excitement to get clear,
order the men to push off, but it was Lilla's wish, and without a word I
started back to fetch the cloak.

It was the most painful passage I ever had in my life.  It was only
minutes but it seemed hours, and with my heart beating furiously, I
tried to crush down the fancies that kept coming into my head.

"Suppose," I thought, "that man is in the American skipper's pay, and
that, now they have possession of my treasure, they should carry it off,
and I should never see it more."  I knew that I might go back and find
the boat gone, pursuit would be vain in the darkness; and so tortured
was I as I reached the house we had left, that I turned instead of going
in, and stepped back to run down again to the boat.

That bit of indecision saved me, for just at my elbow a voice I
recognised said:

"Now then, four o' you just go round to the back and stop whoever comes
out.  Two watch the windows, and we'll go in.  I guess it'll make the
Englisher star'."

The Englisher did stare as he tried to gaze through the darkness, and
then, feeling satisfied that the new skipper had nothing to do with the
American, I stepped softly back, trembling with eagerness and
excitement, and made my way down to the boat.

"All right," I said in as composed a manner as I could, and jumping in
we were soon after being rowed softly down the river, past great vessel
after vessel, all showing their mooring lights, till, wondering the
while what sort of ship we were to have for our passage, we came at last
alongside a large schooner, and were soon after safe aboard, treasure
and all, of what proved to be a very good swift vessel.

In the morning when the sun rose we were going rapidly down towards the
mouth of the great river, but it was not until we were well out at sea
that I felt safe from pursuit, and told my uncle of our narrow escape.

"But I have not been able to find the great cloak, Harry," said Lilla.

"No," I replied; "it was a question whether I should leave the cloak or
myself, so I left the cloak," and then I told her of my adventure in the
dark.



CHAPTER FIFTY THREE.

"HUZZA!  WE'RE HOMEWARD BOUND."

And now it seemed as if our difficulties were at an end, for the passage
to Kingston, Jamaica, was a pleasant one, and we took our berths from
there in the mail, which landed us in safety at Southampton, without a
soul suspecting the nature of the treasure that we had on board, one
which we had gone through so much peril to obtain.

It was a fine evening in July, that, after leaving my uncle and the
others at a comfortable London hotel, Tom and I, after a quick run down
by rail, found ourselves once more in the streets of the little town
which we had left upon our setting off to foreign lands in quest of our
fortunes.

How familiar everything seemed and yet how shrunken!  Houses that I used
to consider large appeared to have grown small, and people that I had
been in the habit of considering great and important, somehow looked as
if they were of no consequence at all.

"Lor', look ye there, Mas'r Harry, they're practising in the cricket
field.  What a while it seems since I have handled a bat!  Come and give
us a few balls, the chaps would be glad enough to see us."

"No, no, Tom," I said hastily, "I want to see the old people."

"Oh, yes, of course, I forgot all about that, Mas'r Harry.  I haven't
got no one to see."

"Why, what about Sally?"  I said.

"Pooh, it's all nonsense!  What stuff!  How you do talk, Mas'r Harry!"
he cried indignantly.  "Just as if Sally was anything to me!"

"Come, Tom," I said, "you know you were always very great friends."

"Friends, Mas'r Harry!  Why, she were allus giving me spanks in the
face.  I do wish you wouldn't be so foolish, Mas'r Harry."

"All right, Tom," I said, for he was speaking in quite an ill-used tone.
"There, what's that?"  I cried, as with beating heart, longing to look
into the old home and yet almost afraid, I stopped short at the corner
of the lane, and caught Tom by the arm.

"What's that?" cried Tom grinning, as he took a long sniff.  "Taller.
Say, Mas'r Harry, after missing it all this long time, it don't smell so
very bad after all."

"Well, it is not nice, Tom," I said smiling, "but how familiar it all
does seem!  What days and nights it does recall!  Why, Tom, we hardly
seem to have been away."

"Oh, but don't we though?" said Tom, pulling down the front of a new
waistcoat and pushing his hat a little on one side.  "We went away
nobodies like, at least I did, Mas'r Harry, and I've come back an
independent gentleman.  I wonder whether Sally's altered."

I did not make any reply, but walked steadily on till I reached the
familiar gates leading into our yard, and through which I had seen the
laden van pass so many hundreds of times.  There beyond it was the
soap-house with its barred window, the tall chimney, and, on looking
over, there were the usual litter of old and new boxes, while an
unpleasantly scented steam was floating out upon the evening air.

How strange and yet how familiar it all seemed!  How old and shabby and
forlorn everything looked, and yet how dear!  I wanted to creep in and
catch my mother in my arms, but something seemed to hold me back, so
that I dare not stir.

I walked straight by, with Tom following me slowly, looking across at
the opposite side of the road, and whistling softly, and as we walked on
I could see into the garden, and my heart gave a throb, for, instead of
being neat and well stocked as of old, everything appeared to have been
neglected--creepers had run wild, the apple and pear trees were covered
with long shoots, and tall thistles and nettles stood in clumps.

My heart seemed to stand still, and I hesitated no longer.  My father
must be ill, I thought, or the garden in which he took so much pride
would never have been allowed to run wild like that.

"Tom," I said, "there's something wrong."

"Lor', no, Mas'r Harry, not there.  Nothing's wrong, only that Sally's
left, and that's all right, ain't it?"

I did not answer, but, going to the yard gate, pushed it open, and the
hinges gave a dismal creak.

"Bit o' soap would not hurt them," said Tom sententiously, and he
followed me through the yard.

I peeped in at the old, familiar boiling-house, but though work had
lately been in progress there was no one there; so I went on to the back
door and was about to enter, but Tom laid his hand on my arm.

"Would you mind my going in first, Mas'r Harry?" he said softly.  "I
know it ain't right, but I should like to go in just once--first."

I drew back and Tom stepped forward to go in, but as he raised his hand
to the latch he dropped it again and turned back to me.

"'Twouldn't be right, sir, for me to go afore you; and don't you think,
Mas'r Harry, now that you're a great, rich gentleman just come over from
foreign abroad, that it would be more genteel-like to go round to the
front and give a big knock afore you went in?"

"Well, let's go round to the front, Tom.  Perhaps it isn't right to come
round here.  We might startle them."

"Wouldn't startle Sally, even if she were here, Mas'r Harry.  Nothing
never did startle she, though she ain't here now."

The fact was that I felt as nervous and tremulous about going in as poor
Tom, and accordingly we went round to the front, and after a moment's
hesitation I gave a rap at the door.

No answer.

I rapped again, and then, finding the door unfastened, I pushed against
it with trembling hand to find it yield, and, walking straight in, I
turned to the right and entered the little parlour.

As I went in some one who had been sitting back asleep in the easy-chair
started up and took a great red handkerchief from his face.

As he did this I was advancing with open hands, but only to stop short,
for it was not my father.

"Hillo!" said the stranger, a dirty-looking man with an inflamed nose.

"Hallo!"  I said; "who are you?"

"Who am I?" said the stranger, staring at me as if I were asking a most
absurd question.  "Why, persession--that's about what I am.  Are you
come to pay me out?"

"Pay you out!--possession!"  I faltered.  "Why, what does it mean?"

"Sold by hockshin without reserve by one of the morkygees," said the
man, "soon as the inwintory's took."

"Where are my father and mother?"  I said, with my heart sinking at the
idea of the distress they must have been in.

"Now, then!" said a sharp voice, and a young woman came to the inner
door; "who do you want?"

"Sally!" whispered Tom excitedly.

"Why, Sally!"  I exclaimed, "don't you know me again?"

"It isn't Master Harry, is it?" she said wonderingly.

"Yes, Sally," I said.  "Why, how you have altered and improved!"

"Get along, Master Harry; it's you that's improved.  Who's that big,
stoopid-looking young man with you?"

"Oh, I say!" groaned Tom.

"Oh, I see!" she said carelessly, "it's the boy!"

"Ain't she hard on a fellow, Mas'r Harry?" whispered Tom; but I did not
reply, for I was questioning Sally.

"What! haven't you heard?" she said.

"No, I've heard nothing," I exclaimed.  "What do you mean?"

"'Bout master's having failed, and a set o' wretches,"--here she glanced
at the dirty-looking man--"coming and robbing him of his business, and
his house, and his furniture, and everything a'most he's got."

"No, no, Sally, I have heard nothing.  But are they well?"

"Oh, yes, as well as folks can be as is being robbed by folks who come
sitting in all the chairs with hankychers over their heads, and going to
sleep all over the place."

"But where are they?"  I cried; "upstairs?"

"Upstairs?  No," cried Sally.  "They're down at the little cottage in
Back Lane, where old Mrs Wigley used to live."

"I'll run down at once," I cried.  "Come along, Tom!"  I did not look
back, for I was intent upon my task; and if I had I should have had no
satisfaction, for Tom had stayed behind, as he afterwards said, to look
after old master's property; but I never believed that tale for several
reasons, one being that Tom looked shamefaced and awkward as he said it,
and circumstances afterwards tended to show that he had some other
reason.

The old cottage named was one that I well remembered, and my spirit
seemed to sink lower and lower as I neared the place; for it was
terrible to think of those whom I had left, if not in affluence, at
least in a comfortable position in life, brought down to so sad and
impecunious a state, suffering real poverty, and with the home of so
many years now in the broker's hands.

Then I felt a wave of high spirits come over me, as it were, to hurl me
down and then lift me and carry me on and on, till I literally set off
and ran down turning after turning, till I came to the little
whitewashed cottage where my father and mother had their abode.

I half-paused for a moment, and then tapping lightly, raised the latch
and entered.

My father was seated at a common uncovered deal table, poring over an
old account-book, as if in hopes of finding a way out of his
difficulties.  My mother, looking very care-worn and grey, was seated by
a back window mending some old garments, and now and then stopping to
wipe her eyes.  At least that is what I presumed, for she was in the act
of wiping them as I dashed in.

"Mother! father!"  I exclaimed, and the next moment the poor old lady
was sobbing in my arms, kissing me again and again, and amidst her
sobbing telling my father that she knew how it would be--that it had
been foolish of him to despair, for she was certain that her boy would
come back and help them as soon as he knew that they were in trouble.

"When did you get the letter, my darling?" she said as she clung closer
to me.

"Letter!"  I said; "I've had no letter."

My mother looked up at me wonderingly.

"Had no letter, Harry?"

"No, my dear mother; I have not had a line since I have been gone."

My mother loosened her hold of me and turned to my father as he stood
looking on.

"You did not write to him," she said.

"Oh, yes, I daresay he did, mother," I cried, "but of late I have been
travelling about a great deal."

"Then the letter would have come back, Harry," said my mother.  "He did
not write."

"No," said my father quietly; "I did not write.  What was the use of
troubling the poor fellow about our miserable affairs when he was far
away?"

"Then you did not come, Harry, because we were in trouble?"

"No, mother," I replied.  "I came home because my task was done."

"Your task was done?" said my mother.  "I don't understand you.  I
thought you went to work at your uncle's."

"I was with my uncle, mother," I replied, enjoying the knowledge of the
surprise I had in store, and feeling that now, indeed, the treasure I
had found was worth having, for what changes it would work! "but he was
in trouble too."

"In trouble!" said my father and mother in a breath.

"Yes, he was in the same predicament as you are, and his coffee
plantation was going to be sold up."

"What an unhappy family ours is!" said my mother.  "Harry--Harry! you
might as well have stayed at home."

"If I had stayed at home, mother, would it have spared you this
trouble?"

"I--I don't know, my boy.  Would it, my dear?" she said, turning to my
father.

"No, wife--no," he said; "Harry was quite right to go.  He foresaw what
was coming, and how useless it was for me to try.  The hardest part of
it, my lad, is that I can't go out of business an honest man and pay
every one his due."

"Don't fret, dear," said my mother; "you've done your best and given up
everything.  But tell me, Harry," she cried, "what did my poor brother
do?  Had he no friend to help him?"

"Yes, mother."

"And did he?"

"Yes, mother."

"What! paid his debts?"

"Yes, dear mother."

"God bless him!" said my mother fervently.  "I wish I could take him by
the hand.  And how is your uncle now?"

"He was quite well when I left him to-day, mother."

"Left him!--to-day?" said my mother wonderingly.

"Yes, he is in town.  I brought him with me, and he will come down and
see you with some one, mother, I want you very much to love."

"You foolish boy!" said my mother.  "Ah, Harry--Harry! you are too young
to think of that."

"I'm sorry he's coming to see us," said my father sadly.  "We are not in
condition to see company, wife."

"No," said my mother, sighing as she glanced round.  "But don't be
down-hearted, dear," she cried more cheerfully; "when things are at
their worst they always mend, and I think they have got to their worst
now, and have begun to mend, for Harry has come back."

"Yes, mother," I cried, unable to keep back my good news, knowing as I
did how welcome it must be to them at such a time.  "Yes, mother, I have
come back, and brought with me the friend who helped my poor uncle in
such a strait, and now he shall help you."

"Ah, but my dear boy, we have no claims upon your uncle's friend."

"The greatest of claims, mother," I cried excitedly, "for he is your own
flesh and blood."

"Harry!" cried my father, "what do you mean?  Did you help your uncle?"

"Yes, father," I said modestly.

"And paid his debts?"

"Yes, father, and now I'm going to pay yours, or rather you are going to
pay them yourself, and be what you called--an honest man."

His eyes lit up, and he looked as if he were about to catch me by the
hands, but he stopped short and shook his head.

"No, no, no, my boy, you do not understand these things.  I owe nearly
five hundred pounds."

"My dear father," I cried, "I'm ready to pay it if you owe nearly five
thousand.  I went out to make my fortune and I have made it, and I never
knew its value thoroughly till I came home to-day.  There, come away
home and I'll pay out that fellow, and--oh, come, mother--mother,
mother!"  I cried as I took hold of her hands to raise her up, for she
had sunk upon her knees and was embracing my legs.  "You must not give
way like this, or you will make me behave like a great girl."

"It is because I am so happy," she sobbed, and as I raised her so that
she could weep on my shoulder, my father caught me by the hand.

"God bless you, my boy!  God bless you!" he cried.  "I won't question
you now, for like your mother I feel as if this is more than I can
bear."

We lost no time as soon as they had grown calmer.  For though I had not
the money with me sufficient to pay all my father's debts, I had plenty
to pay what was needed to get rid of the unpleasant tenant of my old
home, and that night I slept happily once more beneath its roof.

I had hard work to satisfy the old people about my right to the large
sum of money I had brought back, but I found no difficulty with their
creditors, who took the cash without asking any questions, and were very
loud in their praises, saying that I was the best of sons, which was all
nonsense, for I should have been the worst of sons if I had not done my
duty as I did.

The next few months were chiefly spent in getting things into order, and
in the midst of my busiest time Tom came to me one day, bringing with
him Sally.

"Hallo!"  I said, "what does this mean?"

"Oh, nothing at all, Mas'r Harry; only now I'm settled as a gentleman of
property I'm going to be married."

"Don't you believe him, Master Harry," said Sally; "it's all his
nonsense," and she was scarlet as she spoke.

"Don't you believe her, Mas'r Harry," said Tom grinning; "she promised
me she would, and she can't draw back, can she?"

"Certainly not, Tom," I said.  "A lady's under her bond just as a
gentleman is."

"There! hear that, Sally?" said Tom.

"Yes, I hear," she said, "so I suppose I must;" and Sally spoke in quite
a resigned way, keeping her word to Tom within three months, my father
saying that Sally had been the most faithful of servants, and had forced
upon them all her little savings in the time of their distress.

You may be sure I did not forget this on the day when my father gave her
away, and Tom had a nice little dowry with his wife.

It may be thought that, with so great a sum of money--so large a
fortune--I must have lived in great splendour during the rest of my
life.  But it was not so.  Certainly I have always since enjoyed the
comfort of a pleasant, well-kept, unostentatious home; but the fact is
this--it was my fate to marry a woman generous almost to a fault.  As
you have seen, she began by giving the greatest treasure I found in the
New World--herself--to me; and then, upon the strength of our having
plenty of money, she was of opinion that its proper purpose was being
spent in doing good to others.

My uncle and Mrs Landell were settled in a pleasant little estate of
their own; and after a great deal of persuasion my father was induced to
take upon himself the position of a country gentleman.  One way and
another our income became shrunk down to very reasonable proportions;
though, after Lilla has done all the good that she can in the course of
the year, we have always a little to spare.

My story is ended.  And now that grey hairs have made their appearance,
bringing with them sounder thought and the ripe judgment of experience,
I often go over my adventures again, and chat about them with Tom, and
Sally his wife, when I have taken a run over to their prosperous farm;
but in spite of all the success that has attended me and mine, I think,
have thought, and I hope I shall still think to my last day, that my
journey to the New World, my adventures, and all I gained, would have
been but so much vanity and emptiness had I not won Lilla, who has shed
upon my life a sunshine such as has proved that after all _she_ was the
true gold.

THE END.






End of Project Gutenberg's The Golden Magnet, by George Manville Fenn

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