CHAPTER IV.PRISONERS.
Harding was all excitement and eagerness. It did not seem as if he could get ready quick enough.
The air-ship rested upon the earth now, and Frank and Harding stepped over the rail.
As soon as the two explorers had gone, Barney and Pomp were to send the air-ship up a hundred feet or more and there safely anchor it.
A system of signals by means of rifle-shots had been agreed upon.
Thus having concluded all arrangements, the two explorers set out upon their trip.
Harding led the way.
They carried sacks in which the treasure was to be brought from the cavern to the air-ship.
Leaving the Kite they entered a dense clump of tropical growth, and a short while later came out into a narrow defile leading up through the hills.
This was deep and dangerous-looking.
The high walls rising so close together upon either side seemed to shut out the light of day.
The air-ship could not possibly have entered this narrow crack in the mountain wall, just as Harding had said.
“Ugh! This is indeed a most unwholesome place!” said Frank.
“As I told you,” said Harding; “but it was once a gateway through the mountains.”
“Indeed!”
“I believe it. You will notice the peculiar formation of the walls. An earthquake no doubt has brought about this peculiar state of affairs.”
“You may be right,” agreed Frank. “Ah, what wonderful things the world contains, which but few of its people are ever permitted to see.”
“You are right there,” agreed Harding, in a hearty manner.
“But I don’t see how you ever found your way through here.”
“Indeed, I was a long time in these parts before I was able to find it, though I had a plan of the spot, given me by a dying Incas chief. I finally succeeded.”
The two explorers clambered on for hours over bowlders and ledges of rock, stumps, and prickly cacti.
Poisonous snakes and reptiles were plenty in the place. It was with difficulty these were avoided.
But finally, after the hardest of work, they threaded the defile and came in sight of a deep-mouthed cavern.
“Found at last!” cried Harding, eagerly. “Now, Mr. Reade, prepare to feast your gaze upon a wonderful sight.”
With feverish earnestness, the gold-seeker rushed forward.
Into the cavern they passed.
Suddenly Harding paused with a gasping cry.
“My God!” he exclaimed; “what is that?”
He pointed to some marks in the soft soil of the cavern floor.
They were footprints.
“Some one has been here, and lately!” he said, in a tense voice.
The two men exchanged glances.
“Yes,” agreed Frank. “The footprints are proof.”
“Who is it?”
“Perhaps it is Vane.”
But Harding shook his head.
“No,” he said. “I cannot believe that he has had time to get here yet. Moreover, those footprints are those of natives or brigands, and not of white men.”
Frank saw that this was true.
“Upon my word, you are right,” he declared. “What shall we do?”
“Go ahead and learn the worst.”
Harding said this with set lips and white face.
Both started into the cavern.
A torch had been prepared, and this lit up the uncanny and somber gloom.
The air was foul and damp, and hundreds of huge bats flew out of the place as they went on.
Still they kept on.
After what seemed an interminable length of time, they entered a huge and high-arched cavern chamber.
Here a torch was out of the question, as a crevice in the roof admitted the light of day in abundance.
The chamber seemed to have been once used by the natives as a temple.
There were hieroglyphics upon the walls in great numbers, and the remains of a dais upon which a throne might have set were visible.
Harding advanced to the center of the chamber and knelt down.
He fumbled about in the dirt for a time, and then succeeded in resurrecting an iron ring.
Lifting this, he raised a square slab of stone.
A deep hole was revealed.
Harding glanced into it, and a cry of despair and anger escaped his lips.
It was empty.
“Gone!” he cried, wildly. “What devilish plot is this? They have stolen away my treasure! Curses on them!”
For a moment he seemed a literal madman.
Then gradually he calmed down.
“Have courage,” said Frank, encouragingly; “we may overtake the thieves.”
“Ah, I have no hopes of that!”
“Who do you believe them to be?”
“It is hard to say.”
“Not Vane?”
“No; it must be that some prowling band of brigands has discovered the treasure. They may have seen us come here.”
“In that event,” said Frank, “we need only pursue them.”
“They will fight.”
“What of that?”
“There are only two of us!”
“But we can return to the air-ship. They cannot escape from the Kite.”
Hope once more shone in Harding’s face.
“There is cheer in your words, Mr. Reade,” he said. “I will not despair yet. Let us go back to the Kite.”
“All right.”
But the words were hardly off Frank’s lips when a startling thing occurred.
Suddenly from the cavern arches there came a mocking laugh.
Then the two adventurers were astounded to see dark forms flit from the shadows, and saw that they were surrounded by brigands.
For a moment Frank Reade, Jr., was at a loss how to act.
As for Harding, he was literally petrified with amazement and consternation.
Frank was the first to recover himself.
He swung his rifle over his shoulder and made a leap for the main passage, at the same time shouting:
“Quick, Harding! For your life!”
The gold seeker obeyed the injunction none too soon.
Both leaped into the shadows, and at that moment there came a report of a number of the brigands’ rifles, and one of them shouted in Spanish:
“Hold, senors! You cannot escape! Surrender or you die!”
Frank saw that their case was a hopeless one.
Fortunately none of the bullets had struck them, but they had not gone far wide of the mark.
Harding’s coat sleeve was shot full of holes, and Frank’s hat was perforated.
The young inventor had thought to slip the foe in the main cavern.
But no sooner had he entered the passage than he found himself surrounded by the brigands.
There was no alternative but to surrender. Resistance was folly.
Frank saw this at a glance.
He could have shot a few of the brigands and thus have sold his life. But the thought flashed through his mind that this would be utter folly.
So he threw up his hands and cried in good Spanish “Forbear, senors—we surrender!”
In a twinkling both were disarmed.
As they stood thus helpless in the center of the swarthy group of ruffians, the leader, a tall, powerful framed Peruvian, came forward.
He wore a broad sombrero, leathern breeches and fancifully beaded jacket.
A huge knife and a pair of revolvers were thrust into his belt.
With a swaggering braggadocio characteristic of the race, he advanced and said roughly in the Spanish language:
“Well, senors, this is the time that you are entrapped. It will not be easy for you to escape the vengeance of Red Muriel. Your people are all interlopers in this region, and our people hate you!”
“Indeed!” said Frank, calmly. “What harm have we done you?”
“Per Dios! That is not for me to answer. Your fate is sealed.”
“Indeed!” said Harding, in the Spanish tongue. “Are we to die?”
“That is your fate.”
“We are glad to know that,” said Harding, coolly. “We are not afraid to die.”
The brigand showed his teeth.
“Bravado!” he said, contemptuously.
“Cowardice, to kill two defenseless men!” retorted Harding.
The fellow’s eyes gleamed.
“Spare your words, senor!” he said, coldly. “Nothing will save you!”
“One word more,” exclaimed Harding, in a tense voice, pointing to the treasure vault. “Do you know what became of the gold that vault contained?”
The Spaniard smiled.
“Si, senor,” he replied. “You would have stolen it. It is the property of myself.”
“Liar!” cried Harding, furiously. “It was my property, and you have taken it away unlawfully!”
The brigand chief laughed in a scornful way.
“Words will avail you nothing, senor,” he declared. “Prepare for death.”
Both Harding and Frank saw that it was of no avail to bandy words with the brigand chief.
The latter turned and gave a gruff order to his men.
They advanced, and seizing the two prisoners by the arms, led them away.
Through the outer cavern passage they were led. Soon they were in daylight once more.
But this time they were in far different spirits than when they had entered the cave.
Despair most profound was upon Harding. But Frank Reade, Jr., was never the one to give way to such emotion.
The brigands led their prisoners through the defile, until suddenly they came to a path which led over the cliff.
Up this they went, and finally came out upon a sort of broad plateau terminating at this end of the defile.
Here, by Red Muriel’s orders, the party came to a halt.
The brigand chief made a gesture and the prisoners were led almost to the brow of the cliff.
Then the villain advanced, and with a suave, mocking smile, said:
“Senors, please accept the congratulations of Red Muriel upon your speedy voyage to the next world. May you find a happier time there.Buenos, senors!”
With a sweeping bow the brigand chief retired.
“Heavens!” exclaimed Frank, “they mean to throw us to an awful death over the cliffs. That will be awful!”