CHAPTER X.A PERILOUS ADVENTURE.
Underthe guidance of the native spy, whose name was Sancho, we left the rude cart-road we had been following, and bearing to the left descended a gentle slope rather thickly studded with trees. In two minutes we had lost sight of the main body, and felt that we were entirely dependent upon our own resources, and about to embark upon what might turn out to be a perilous adventure. I was in the highest spirits, for I perfectly revelled in this sort of independent enterprise. There was a mystery; a chance of discovering hidden booty; a tangled skein to be unravelled. That was quite enough for an adventurous boy of my age.
“We’re in luck,” said Mr. Triggs as we marched along; “don’t you think so, Mr. Darcy?”
“Oh, it’s splendid fun!” I cried enthusiastically; “I’m simply dying to come to close quarters withthese freebooters and seize the loot they’ve stowed away in the caves. Can’t we double, Mr. Triggs? We’d get there so much sooner, and I’m sure the men are just as ready to run all the way as I am!”
“If I wasn’t on the shady side of fifty, perhaps I should too,” responded the gunner with a laugh.
“What nonsense, Mr. Triggs! Why, you’ve got the reputation of being one of the strongest men on board theRattler!”
“Oh, come, come; draw it mild!” exclaimed the gunner deprecatingly, but nevertheless looking very pleased with the compliment. “And then you mustn’t forget, Mr. Darcy, that our orders are toreconnoitre.”
“Andto attack if necessary,” I added triumphantly. “Why, you can’t suppose, Mr. Triggs, that these rascally fellows won’t get wind of what we’re up to; that they won’t see us; that they won’t defend their ill-gotten booty with desperate bravery; that they won’t——”
“Stop, stop, for heaven’s sake!” cried the gunner; “how you young gentlemen let your imaginations run away with you! You remind me of mill-wheels in a spate; they are kept spinning round at such a rate as to risk putting the machinery out of gear.”
“Not a bad simile, Mr. Triggs. Bad luck to thosewho put a spoke in, say I! They’re the fellows who put the machinery out of gear.”
The ground began to fall away more steeply, and rocks cropped up more abundantly. The trees seemed more stunted, and as if huddled together for shelter, and underwood began to make its appearance, growing quite thickly in some places. We appeared to be approaching the side of a steep valley, from the distant depths of which I seemed to hear the subdued thunder of a cascade. A pair of eagles soared above our heads; and far away, peering here and there from amid the clouds, the purple-tinted mountains of the interior were discernible.
Our conversation had ceased, for our eyes and ears had to be on the alert.
Every moment the scenery became more savage and more picturesque, the rush of waters from the valley and its offshoots more distinctly audible, and the slopes we were descending more steep, slippery, and rock-encumbered.
The swarthy Sancho, however, glided on before us, and led the way without a moment’s hesitation. He was a lithe, well-built fellow of about forty, and looked wiry and active. He carried in his right hand a sharp cutlass, with which he occasionally cut downa creeper or some underwood that obstructed the way. There was no path. We followed him blindly, putting entire trust in him for the time being.
“Well, this is a queer, wild sort of a place,” I heard Ned Burton say to one of his mates; “just the sort of diggings one would expect to come across bandits and buccaneers in, and them sort of gentry.”
“I hope we’ll find some good Havana tobacco amongst the spoils, that’s all I’ve got to say,” answered his comrade. “I left my pouch behind aboard the old hooker, worse luck, and don’t want to have to borrow from my pals when perhaps they’re short themselves.”
“Shilling cigars will be your ticket, mate, I reckon,” said Ned with a laugh. “You may depend the skipper of theFlying-fishhad some weeds of that quality aboard, if only to sell again when he got back to the old country.”
“Poor chap! he’s lost the number of his mess and no mistake. Hallo! what in thunder is the matter with the guide?”
He might well ask. We were all horrified to hear Sancho give vent to a loud cry of terror, and see him wildly slash at something on the ground with his cutlass. Then he dropped his weapon upon theground, and gave a heartrending shriek of agony. In an instant we had sprung to his side.
The poor fellow’s face was convulsed with mingled pain and horror, and he would have fallen to the ground had not Ned Burton supported him.
“He suffers from epilepsy, I’m afraid,” exclaimed the gunner as he ran up. “I wish the surgeon was here.”
But Ned pointed to the ground with a horrified expression upon his face which spoke volumes.
I followed his gesture with my eyes, and they immediately lit upon two writhing portions of a very deadly-looking snake. The guide had cut the venomous reptile in two, but not before the latter had buried its poisonous fangs in the almost unprotected leg of its victim.
A shudder ran through every one’s frame, for sailors have a natural horror of serpents, poisonous or otherwise. Nevertheless Ned Burton offered to suck the wound, and endeavour to save the poor victim’s life. This, however, Mr. Triggs would not permit.
We laid the unfortunate man carefully upon the ground; but he was already almost in a state of coma, so virulent was the poison and so rapid in its effects. Ned gently rolled up the leg of the thin white linentrousers the victim was wearing; and on the right leg, a little way above the ankle, a small puncture revealed itself, which was evidently the mark of the snake’s fang. The whole limb was terribly swollen as high as the knee, and the foot was in the same state.
I cannot dwell upon this episode; even now it makes me shudder to think of it. Suffice it to say that in five minutes the man was stone dead. This unfortunate occurrence threw a gloom over our party. Every one spoke in hushed whispers, and it was in a very depressed mood that we set about digging a rough shallow grave for the poor fellow’s remains, under the shade of a spreading wild cotton-tree.
“And now,” said Mr. Triggs, when the last sad offices were over, “we’re in a pretty good fix, for we’ve lost our guide, and don’t know which way to steer our course.”
“Let’s keep straight on in the direction we were going when the accident happened,” I suggested; “we can’t go far wrong.”
“We must either do that or make tracks for the main body of our shipmates,” observed Ned Burton. “It seems to me there ain’t no middle course, so to speak.”
The gunner mused for some time with his eyes fixed upon the ground. He appeared to be in a brown study, and oblivious of what was going on around him. Most of the men had lit their pipes and were conversing in low tones. Ned and I discussed the situation earnestly and in all its bearings, and came to the conclusion that it would be a thousand pities to abandon the expedition. All our adventurous instincts scouted such a proposition.
I went up to the gunner and laid my hand upon his arm.
“Ned and I both think we ought to push on at all hazards,” I said. “I hope you agree with us, Mr. Triggs.”
“Yes, yes, I do, my boy. I’ve weighed theprosandconsas clearly as I can in my own mind, and you bet your life Tim Triggs isn’t the man to turn back and give the enemy a wide berth so long as he can steer a true course without a pilot. We’ve no chart, and are pretty well adrift about our bearings; but let’s forge ahead, and see if we can’t spot a landmark of some kind.”
“That’s the sort, sir,” said Ned approvingly, “if you’ll excuse the liberty I take in giving my opinion. Let’s push on and follow our noses. I wouldn’t mindbetting a month’s pay we smell the rascals out, and give ’em a thundering good hammering too.”
The other men murmured approval of their shipmate’s sentiments.
“You’re the right sort of fellows to have at one’s back,” said the gunner heartily. “Let’s get under way at once, and I’ll do my best to be your pilot.”
And so saying he put himself at the head of the little detachment and led the way onwards in the direction we had been following when the guide was with us. As there was no path, however, and we had not the remotest idea how long the native had intended to keep on in the same line of march, the reader will perceive that we had a very good chance of missing the object of our search altogether.
Our progress was slow, owing to the underwood, which grew denser every moment, and also to the obstructive rocks which seemed “confusedly hurled” about in all directions. Here and there, too, we encountered the vast trunk and branches of some giant of the forest laid low by the last hurricane that had swept howling over the mountain tops.
“One thing is certain enough,” observed Ned to me, “the mutineers and their pals didn’t bring the cargo along this route. ’Twould have been quite impossible.”
I pointed down into the deep, well-wooded valley beneath.
“We shall discover their path by-and-by,” I said. “I’ve no doubt it follows the mountain stream on its way to the sea.”
“Maybe,” answered my coxswain; “and the best thing we can do is to make the thieving swabs carry back to theFlying-fishall the loot they laid their hands upon.”
The word was now passed round by the gunner that strict silence was to be kept, and that we were to make the least possible noise in marching.
The latter order was extremely difficult to carry out, especially as in one or two places the men had to use their cutlasses to hew a way for themselves through a tangle of pendulous creepers and forest sub-growth. It was impossible to keep any sort of formation, and we had to straggle on as best we could. Had a watchful and cunning enemy been lying in ambush anywhere upon our line of march, he would undoubtedly have stood a very good chance of wiping us off the face of the earth.
The atmosphere grew close and oppressive as we descended into the valley, and the tree-tops were scarcely stirred by the almost stagnant air. Even thebirds and insects seemed affected by the sultriness, and their varied cries and droning hums were hushed into quietude. Ominous-looking purple clouds were gathering over the summits of some of the distant mountains and seemed to presage a thunderstorm.
Suddenly I caught sight of a thin spiral column of blue smoke ascending from the valley beneath and dissipating itself in the blue ether overhead. I silently pointed it out to the gunner.
As we were on a fairly open piece of ground at the time, the latter halted us by a warning gesture with his hand.
“That looks as if it came from an encampment, Mr. Darcy,” he whispered; “or do you think it might be caused by charcoal-burners?”
“I’m inclined to think it comes from a camp of the mutineers,” I answered in the same low tone; “for it does not look more than half a mile distant, and I should say we have already come a mile and a half.”
“But why should they be so anxious to betray their whereabouts? that’s what bothers me,” remarked the gunner.
“You must bear one thing in mind,” I said, “and that is, that this particular body of mutineers or insurgents probably deem themselves quite safe frompursuit, hidden away in this valley. They’re keeping watch over the booty, whilst the main body is engaged in drawing our brigade off as far as possible into the mountainous interior. It’s a clever plan, I must say, but it’s fallen to our lot to foil it.”
The gunner did not answer for some minutes, but seemed buried in thought. He was a very cautious man, and though brave as a lion in fight, he was anything but headstrong in conceiving plans of action.
He was aroused from his reverie by the sound of voices ascending from the valley. They appeared to come from the site of the fire as nearly as we could tell.
We all exchanged expressive glances, and Mr. Triggs examined his revolver to see if it was properly loaded.
“I don’t want to do anything rash,” said the gunner to me, “because that may only lead us into trouble. I think I’ll creep forward and reconnoitre, taking Ned Burton with me. If we discover a camp of the mutineers, why, of course, our duty will be clear; and if they turn out to be only charcoal-burners, no doubt we shall get some valuable information out of them.”
I laid my hand impetuously on Mr. Triggs’s arm.
“Let me go with you and reconnoitre!” I begged in imploring tones. “I’ll be as quiet as a mouse, and do everything you tell me—indeed I will.”
The gunner smiled grimly.
“I don’t like to refuse you, Mr. Darcy, but who will take command of the men left behind?”
“Jim Beddoes, of course, the captain of the fore-top,” I answered. “He’s a first-class petty-officer, and has got his headpiece screwed on the right way.”
“Well, I’d trust Jim, of course,” said the gunner, glancing at the individual in question, who grinned and touched his hat.
“Well, that’s settled then!” I cried in the highest delight, and I beckoned to Ned Burton to fall out of the ranks and join us, which he did with great alacrity.
“You’ll keep a bright look-out, Beddoes,” said the gunner. “We shan’t be gone more than half an hour or so, I take it. The men mustn’t leave this spot, but they may sit down and rest so long as you keep four sentries posted.”
“Ay, ay, sir; I’ll keep my weather eye lifting, and see that nothing goes wrong.”
Ned, in lieu of his rifle, took a small tomahawk with him wherewith to mark the trees as we went along, and then we crept forward through the forest in the direction of the pillar of blue smoke. We had discarded our side-arms before starting, as we decidedthat they would only encumber us. Our loaded revolvers we kept in our belts, more as a matter of precaution than anything else, for we did not anticipate exchanging shots with any one.
The undergrowth grew less dense as we advanced, and we were able to proceed rapidly and silently, always keeping the pillar of smoke directly ahead. The side of the valley we were descending was steep, and in places almost precipitous; but we kept our footing in a marvellous manner notwithstanding. We could hear the rushing of the stream very distinctly as it swirled around the boulders that obstructed the way, or leaped over some cliff-like rock into a deep abyss below. It was now evidently not far distant. Now and again we heard a subdued shout from some one beneath us, but ordinary voices could not now be distinguished above the roar of the torrent.
Ned assiduously marked our path by chipping at the trees; but presently all need for this precaution vanished, for we found ourselves upon a regular beaten path leading down into the depths of the valley.
The gunner halted for a moment, and lifted a warning finger to enjoin silence and secrecy upon us. Then he resumed the route with stealthy but rapidfootsteps. My heart was beating so with suppressed excitement that I could not help fancying that my companions must hear its prodigious thumps. I glanced at Ned. As was natural in a man who had passed through numberless perils, he looked quite unconcerned, but his bronzed face wore its usual determined expression.
The path, at first stony and precipitous, at length wound its way onward at a gentler gradient, and seemed to be nearing the base of the hilly slopes which flanked the savage ravine. The timber here was magnificent, some of the stately trees towering up with their spreading branches to an altitude of a hundred and fifty feet. Lizards ran about in all directions; dragon-flies darted hither and thither; and far above our heads birds of gaudy plumage flitted from tree to tree.
We came at length to a place where four narrow beaten tracks met, and the gunner halted for a moment and peered about him.
“I vote for keeping straight on,” I whispered hurriedly.
Mr. Triggs nodded, and glided on as before.
I ought to have mentioned that we had for some time lost sight of the pillar of smoke which had been a beacon to us for so long. This was owing to the enormous size of the trees in this part of the valley.
Suddenly, as we were passing close to a collection of cliff-like boulders which frowned down upon the narrow pathway on our right hand, about a dozen men sprang out upon us with such extraordinary activity and determination that we were taken completely by surprise, for, as the reader may suppose, we had not the faintest notion that any one was lurking in the vicinity of the path.
At the first alarm I need not say that our hands flew instinctively to our revolvers; but in much less time than it takes me to write it our assailants had flung themselves on us, secured our arms, and borne us to the ground, especial care being taken to keep an iron grip on our throats, to prevent our calling for assistance. I struggled vehemently to free myself; but the more I struggled the tighter grew the grip on my throat, and at last I was obliged to desist for fear of being strangled. I heard the gunner and Ned Burton struggling desperately also, although they had not been able to use their revolvers; but both being men of unusual strength, it was some little time before they were eventually secured.
With great dexterity our captors blindfolded and gagged us, passed lashings around our arms, and dragged us away with them—whither, we had no means of ascertaining.