Chapter Eight.

Chapter Eight.Signs of Suspicion.Half an hour later, the little caravan was in motion, and, for the first time the preparations were delightfully easy. Eager to be of some service, and to try to make up for what he had done, Cyril began to help to load the mules, and above all, helped the colonel.For the latter was trying hard to make the guide understand that he would like to pass through the patch of forest below them, before they ascended the mountain path visible away to their left; and the man stared at him in the most blank way possible, and then kept on pointing to a couple of great fagots which lay tightly bound upon one of the mules’ backs.“It’s all right, sir; let me speak to him,” cried Cyril eagerly. “He thinks you keep on telling him you want wood for the next fire we make, and he says he has got plenty.” Then, turning to the guide, he rapidly said a few words in the rough dialect of Indian and Spanish, with the result that the man gave the colonel a sharp look, and then nodded his head, and went off with the leading mule.Perry gave his father an eager look, and the colonel, who was smiling with satisfaction at the ease with which a difficulty had been smoothed away, frowned.“Oh yes, it’s very nice,” he said; “but I cannot afford to have an intelligent interpreter on such terms as these, Master Perry. There, get on; I said I would not refer to the trouble any more.—Hi! Cyril, my lad, you’d better ride that black mule.”“Ride—the mule, sir?” said the boy hesitatingly.“Yes; your feet are cut and sore. Rest till they are better.”“Hurrah!” whispered Perry. “Jump up, old chap. Here, I’ll give you a leg. I shall ride, too, to-day.”The next minute, both boys were mounted, and following the last mule with the second Indian.That patch of scrubby forest looked to be close at hand, but it took them nearly an hour to reach it, everything being on so grand a scale among the mountains; but at last they began to thread their way through, with the colonel eagerly examining the different trees, the Indians noting his actions curiously, but always hanging their heads again if they thought that they were observed.The colonel kept up his examination, but did not seem very well satisfied; and soon after, the bushy trees with their shining green leaves were left behind, and they journeyed on through what had looked at a distance like fields of buttercups, but which proved to be a large tract covered with golden calceolaria, whose rounded turban-like flowers glistened in the sun. This looked the more beautiful from the abundance of grass, at which the mules sniffed carelessly, for they had passed the night eating.Then before starting upward, there was the rapid stream to cross at a spot where the rocks had fallen in a perfect chaos from the mountain-side, completely filling up the chasm along which the water ran; and here they could hear it rushing, gurgling, and trickling down a hundred channels far below, in and out amongst the rugged masses of rock which dammed it back.The mules made no difficulty about going over here, merely lowering their muzzles, and sniffing at the cracks and holes as they felt about with their forefeet, and climbed more than walked across to the solid rock and the bare, very faintly marked, stony track, which led up and up to a narrow gap in the mountains, evidently a pass.Steeper and steeper grew the way, now zigzagging along a stiff slope, now making a bold dash at the mountain-side, over loose stones which went rolling down, setting others in motion till regular avalanches rolled down into the valley hundreds of feet beneath.“Have you ever been here before, Cil?” said Perry, who now rode close behind his friend.“No. Never any farther than the place where I overtook you.”“Isn’t this very dangerous?” continued Perry, as the mules climbed up, sending the loose stones rattling down to their right.“Eh? Dangerous? I don’t know. I was wondering what they are thinking at home. Yes, I suppose it is dangerous.”“Then hadn’t we better get down and walk?”“What for? We couldn’t walk up so well as the mules. They’ve got four legs to our two. They’re a deal more clever and sure-footed than we should be.”Perry kept his seat, fully expecting to have the mule make a slip, and then for them to go rolling down hundreds of feet into the valley; but in due time the gap-like opening was reached, and through this place, with the walls on either side so steep that they looked an if they had been cut, they passed into a narrow valley, or rather chasm, looking as if the mountains had been split down to their roots by some earthquake; and a chill of horror ran through Perry, as he checked his mule where the rest were panting and recovering their breath.“Not a very cheerful-looking place, boys,” said the colonel, as he surveyed the great chasm, running apparently for miles through the mountains, zigzagging, returning upon itself, and always dark and profound in its lower part; so deep, in fact, that from where they stood it might have gone right down to the centre of the earth, while upward the sides rose, wall-like, toward three huge peaks, which looked dazzlingly white.All at once Perry started, and it seemed as if an electric shock had passed through the mules. For there was a tremendous booming roar some distance away, followed by peal after peal, as if of thunder running for miles amongst the mountains, and not dying away till quite a couple of minutes had elapsed.“Thunder,” whispered Perry.“No, I think not,” said Cyril below his breath.—“What was that, Diego?” he said in the man’s tongue.The answer was laconic, and accompanied by a smile.“He says some of the snow fell over yonder, out of sight.”Crash!There was another roar, followed by its echoes.“Look! look!” cried Cyril excitedly. “There, just below that place where the sun shines on the ice.”“Yes, I see it,” said Perry; “a waterfall.” And he shaded his eyes to gaze at the glittering appearance of a cascade pouring over a shelf of ice into the depths below.“Waterfall!” said the colonel, smiling. “There is no water up there to fall. It is a cataract of pieces of ice and solidified snow, thousands of tons of it broken away through the weight and the mass being loosened by the heat of the sun.”“Gone!” cried Cyril.“To appear again, lower down,” said the colonel, and they watched the glittering curve of dazzling ice as it reappeared and made another leap, and again another and another, lower down, till it finally disappeared by falling into some chasm behind a fold of the mountain. But the roar of the ice was continued like distant thunder, telling how enormous the fall must have been, though dwarfed by the distance into a size that appeared trifling.Then the boys sat gazing at the black gulf before them, with its huge walls, which were nearly perpendicular in places.“I say, of course, we’re not going along that way?” said Perry nervously.“I don’t know,” replied Cyril; “the tracks generally do go along the worst-looking places.”“But how can they have been so stupid as to pick those?” said Perry petulantly.“They don’t pick them,” replied Cyril. “Only they are obliged to go along any places there are. Yes, we shall have to go along yonder.”“Impossible.”“How would you go, then?” said Cyril. “We’re not flies; we can’t climb up those walls; and you couldn’t go over the mountains if you wished, because of the ice and snow. You must go in and out round them where the valleys are open, and this is open enough. There is no other way.”“But, I say, shan’t you be—er—just a little afraid to go down there?”“No,” said Cyril quietly. “I don’t feel afraid a bit. There’s only one thing I feel afraid of now.”“What’s that? Falling off one of the precipices?”“No,” said Cyril sadly. “Meeting my father.”Perry was silent, and his friend turned to Diego, who was going from mule to mule, examining the knots in the hide ropes by which the baggage was secured to the pack-saddles.“Which way does the road go now?” he asked.The man pointed straight along the black chasm running from below them away into the distance.“Along there?” whispered Perry, as he comprehended the gesture.“Yes, I thought so,” said Cyril coolly. “There can be no other way.”“But what else did he say?” asked Perry breathlessly.“He said, did your father want to go on any more.”“What’s that?” cried the colonel.Cyril repeated the man’s remark.“Tell him of course, till I wish him to stop.”Cyril delivered the message, and the man spoke again, gesticulating and pointing along the deep valley.“He says, sir, that there is no place farther on where you will get a bigger valley, and that there are plenty of snow-mountains farther back.”The colonel made a gesture full of impatience.“What does he mean, Cyril? Doesn’t he want to go any farther?”“I think that’s it, sir. I’ll ask him what he means.”Cyril turned to the guide again, and there was a short, eager conversation, carried on for a minute or so.“He says, sir, that the way along the track is very dangerous. It goes along that side, to the left, and the path is very narrow. If any one slipped, he would fall right to the bottom.”“It must be the regular way across the mountains, where mules are accustomed to go, and he undertook to guide me; so tell him I go on.”Cyril conveyed the colonel’s words to the man, who looked annoyed, and glanced suspiciously at the colonel as he said a few words, to which the boy replied angrily.“What’s that? what’s that?” cried the colonel.Cyril hesitated.“Speak out, sir; what is it? Why don’t you speak?”“He said he wanted to know where you wanted to go, and what for?” said Cyril, watching the colonel rather anxiously.“Tell him as far as I please, and where I please,” said the colonel sternly. “Now then, at once; and tell him I should advise him not to ask me any more questions. Forward!”Cyril interpreted the words, and the Indian looked sharply at his employer, to see in his eyes the glances of a man accustomed to command, and without a word he took the rein of the leading mule, and went away to the left, seeming to Perry as if he were passing over the edge of a precipice, so suddenly the descent began, a dozen yards away.But, as is often the case among the mountains, that which had looked so terrible at a little distance, last its dangerous aspect when boldly approached, for, following closely upon the luggage mules, Perry reached the edge of that which he had supposed to be a precipice, and found that it was only a slope, going downward; but it was quite steep enough to require great care in crossing it, and the mules showed their comprehension of the fact that it must not be attacked lightly, by the way in which they walked, slowly and carefully, making sure of every step they took, till they were well across the green slope, and on to solid rock once more.And now it was plain that the man had not exaggerated, for their path lay along what is known to geologists as a fault in the rock of which the side of the valley was composed—that is to say, the upper part of the huge mass appeared to have slipped sidewise, leaving four or five feet of the lower part of the valley wall like a shelf, and along this the mules began to walk cautiously, taking the greatest care that their loads did not touch the side of the rock, and consequently walking as close to the edge as possible.The man had not exaggerated in the least. The shelf-like paths they had previously traversed were in places perilous enough, but here the bottom of the chasm-like valley was quite hidden from the travellers, and imagination added largely to the depth whenever either of the boys stole a glance downward.No one spoke, but they rode on in single line, feeling appalled by the awful nature of the place, hour after hour, for the path wound and zigzagged, and seemed without end. At every slip of a mule’s hoof, at every kick against a loose stone, Cyril felt his pulses leap, and Perry turned cold with apprehension; while, whenever Cyril turned to look round at his friend, each saw in the other’s face a hard set look, and a strange, almost despairing stare in his eyes.They were conscious of there being a rushing torrent somewhere far below, but it was down in the region of gloom, and they went on for hours without once catching even a gleam of the water, which at times sent up a dull thunderous roar, at others died away into a faint murmuring vibration, as if it were making for itself a subterranean channel through the bottom of the chasm. But little attention was paid to that, each of the travellers keeping his eyes fixed upon the narrow path in front, and rarely glancing up at the rocky wall on their left, or down into the profound gulf upon their right.It was well on in the afternoon when, in turning an angle where the path shot off suddenly to their left, they came upon a wide opening lit up by the sun; but, saving that it was light, it was more repellent to the eye than the path along which they had come. For it was one wild chaos of tumbled-together rocks, looking as if, by some convulsion of nature, the whole of that portion of the valley side had been shattered and tumbled down from the shoulder of a huge mountain, destroying the pathway, and leaving in its place a broad stretch of masses of rocks, from pieces hundreds of tons in weight, to fragments not larger than a man’s head.Progress across this appeared impossible, but the guide went on for a few minutes and then stopped; for rugged as the place was, it possessed the quality of being level enough to enable them to make a halt for refreshments, without being on a narrow shelf where there was not room for a mule to be turned.Hideous as the place was, every face brightened, for the strain of feeling in great peril was for the time removed, and even the mules showed their satisfaction by whinnying to each other, and giving themselves a shake, as they began to sniff about and browse upon the dry vegetation which grew amongst the fallen stones.“Hah!” ejaculated the colonel, as he got off his mule, and looked round and above at the pure blue sky. “One feels as if one could breathe and move now.”“Yes,” said Perry, with a shudder; “it was horrible.”“Nonsense, boy,” cried the colonel. “It was not a place one would select for a nice walk, but I should not have liked to miss such a journey. People at home do not know there are such wildly-grand places in the world—eh, Cyril?”“No, sir,” replied the latter eagerly, for a pleasant word or two from the colonel was like a gleam of sunshine in his breast; “but it was dangerous. I should not have liked to get off my mule on that shelf.”“Not on the precipice side, certainly,” said the colonel.“Why, there wasn’t any room on the other,” cried Perry; “and if one had turned giddy, one would have gone down, down—ugh!”“Yes, the place did look deep,” said the colonel, “but no one did turn giddy, and the mules went along as steadily as if they had been on a turnpike road.—Well, Manning, what’s the matter?”“I was thinking about our having to go back along that there path, sir.”“Well, I daresay we shall,” replied the colonel, “but you don’t mind.”“Not mind, sir?” cried the old soldier gloomily.“Not you, my man. I grant it is a little dangerous, but not so bad as walking along a shelf in the Nagari pass, with a Belooch behind every stone, taking aim at one with his long matchlock.”John Manning grinned, took off his hat, and scratched his head.“You did not complain about the danger then,” continued the colonel.“No, sir, I didn’t, did I!” said the man, wrinkling up his face a little more; “and I ain’t going to grumble about this neither. I’ll go wherever you lead, colonel, like a soldier should.”“Yes; I knew that when I chose you to come with us, Manning,” said the colonel quietly. “Well, what about dinner? We had better have it upon that flat-topped stone.”“I shan’t be five minutes, sir; but I was hesitating about that stone. It’s just in the hot sunshine, and if there are any snakes about here, that seems a likely place.”“Any snakes about here, Diego?” asked Cyril, and the man shook his head, and replied that it was too cold.A few minutes later they were enjoying a hearty meal, and the mules were revelling in their freedom from their loads, while the two Indians sat munching their sun-dried strips of meat, and talking together in a low voice.“All these stones and rocks tumbled down from above, I suppose, sir?” said Cyril, after a prolonged look upward at the peak which rose high above them, with its smooth sides glittering with snow, and a thin, white, gauzy cloud just hiding the extreme point.“Yes, my lad,” said the colonel, shading his eyes, and looking up. “The snow hides the old scar, but I should say that during some eruption the whole side of the crater fell outward, and crumbled down to here, as you say.”“Crater?” cried Cyril.“Yes; don’t you see that it is a volcano?”“I did not, sir. Then those clouds up there are smoke?”“More likely steam.”“Steam? Those clouds?” cried Perry, gazing up. “And is this a burning mountain?”“Yes. You will be able to say you have been on the side of a volcano,” said the colonel quietly. “Look at all this broken stone about; how glistening a great deal is, as if it had been molten. That piece, too, looks like scoria.”“Then hadn’t we better go on at once?” cried Perry, getting up from the stone on which he was seated.“What for? Are you afraid of an eruption?” said the colonel, with a shade of contempt in his voice.—“Feel that stone where he was sitting, Cyril; perhaps it is warm.”“Yes, it was quite warm when I sat down upon it,” said Perry hastily. “All the stones about here are nearly hot.”“Of course they are, sir,” cried his father. “Have they not been baking in this hot sunshine? There, sit down and finish your dinner. Mountains don’t break out into eruption without giving some warning.”“But this must have been quite lately, sir,” said Cyril, to turn the colonel’s fire.“Geologically lately, my lad,” he said, picking up and examining a stone, “but not in our time, nor our grandfathers’. In all probability these stones came crumbling down some hundreds of years ago.”“Then you think there is no fear of another eruption, father?”“If I did think there was, do you think I should be sitting here so calmly?” replied the colonel.Perry had nothing to say to this, and he soon after became interested in a conversation which took place between Cyril and the guide, waiting impatiently until it was at an end.“What does he say?” asked Perry, as Cyril turned away.“That as soon as we’ve passed this rough place there’s another path, like the one we’ve come by, and he wants to know if your father means to risk it.”Perry felt a shrinking sensation, but he said nothing, knowing how determined his father was when he had set his mind upon a thing.“I told him we were going, of course. But, I say, Perry,” whispered Cyril, “how far does he mean to go?”Perry shook his head.“Is it any use to ask him where he means to stop?” whispered Cyril.“No; not a bit.”“Hallo! Look here!” cried Cyril, and Perry snatched up his piece from where it lay.“Look out, father!” he cried, as one by one, with solemn, slow stride, some half-dozen peculiar-looking, flat-backed, long-necked animals came into sight round an angle of the valley at the far side of the chaos of stones amongst which they had made their halt.“Put down that gun. Don’t be stupid,” cried Cyril. “Can’t you see they are llamas?”“What if they are? I suppose they are good to eat.”“I shouldn’t like to try one,” cried Cyril, laughing.The colonel had now caught sight of the animals, which kept on coming round the corner in regular file, with their long necks held up stiffly.“Quite a caravan,” the colonel said. “Ask Diego what they are carrying.”“I know, without asking, sir,” said Cyril eagerly. “They’re bringing down Quinquina—kina, as they call it. You know, sir—bark.”“Hah!” ejaculated the colonel eagerly, and he took out the little double glass he carried to examine the train of animals, which had evidently come from the track that they were to pursue after their halt.“You’re wrong, I think, my lad,” said the colonel, after a long examination through his glass. “They have all got bales of something on their backs, and, judging from the outside, I think they are skins or hides.”“Yes, sir, that’s right,” cried Cyril, “but it is bark inside. They make the bark up into bales, and cover them with hides before binding them up. I know; I’ve seen them before.”The colonel continued his inspection, and Cyril hurriedly questioned the guide before speaking to the former again.“He says they are taking the kina down to the port, and that they will halt here to rest.”“Then we’ll stay a little longer and see them,” said the colonel, closing his glass after seeing several armed men turn the corner and begin to climb beside the llamas over the rugged stones.

Half an hour later, the little caravan was in motion, and, for the first time the preparations were delightfully easy. Eager to be of some service, and to try to make up for what he had done, Cyril began to help to load the mules, and above all, helped the colonel.

For the latter was trying hard to make the guide understand that he would like to pass through the patch of forest below them, before they ascended the mountain path visible away to their left; and the man stared at him in the most blank way possible, and then kept on pointing to a couple of great fagots which lay tightly bound upon one of the mules’ backs.

“It’s all right, sir; let me speak to him,” cried Cyril eagerly. “He thinks you keep on telling him you want wood for the next fire we make, and he says he has got plenty.” Then, turning to the guide, he rapidly said a few words in the rough dialect of Indian and Spanish, with the result that the man gave the colonel a sharp look, and then nodded his head, and went off with the leading mule.

Perry gave his father an eager look, and the colonel, who was smiling with satisfaction at the ease with which a difficulty had been smoothed away, frowned.

“Oh yes, it’s very nice,” he said; “but I cannot afford to have an intelligent interpreter on such terms as these, Master Perry. There, get on; I said I would not refer to the trouble any more.—Hi! Cyril, my lad, you’d better ride that black mule.”

“Ride—the mule, sir?” said the boy hesitatingly.

“Yes; your feet are cut and sore. Rest till they are better.”

“Hurrah!” whispered Perry. “Jump up, old chap. Here, I’ll give you a leg. I shall ride, too, to-day.”

The next minute, both boys were mounted, and following the last mule with the second Indian.

That patch of scrubby forest looked to be close at hand, but it took them nearly an hour to reach it, everything being on so grand a scale among the mountains; but at last they began to thread their way through, with the colonel eagerly examining the different trees, the Indians noting his actions curiously, but always hanging their heads again if they thought that they were observed.

The colonel kept up his examination, but did not seem very well satisfied; and soon after, the bushy trees with their shining green leaves were left behind, and they journeyed on through what had looked at a distance like fields of buttercups, but which proved to be a large tract covered with golden calceolaria, whose rounded turban-like flowers glistened in the sun. This looked the more beautiful from the abundance of grass, at which the mules sniffed carelessly, for they had passed the night eating.

Then before starting upward, there was the rapid stream to cross at a spot where the rocks had fallen in a perfect chaos from the mountain-side, completely filling up the chasm along which the water ran; and here they could hear it rushing, gurgling, and trickling down a hundred channels far below, in and out amongst the rugged masses of rock which dammed it back.

The mules made no difficulty about going over here, merely lowering their muzzles, and sniffing at the cracks and holes as they felt about with their forefeet, and climbed more than walked across to the solid rock and the bare, very faintly marked, stony track, which led up and up to a narrow gap in the mountains, evidently a pass.

Steeper and steeper grew the way, now zigzagging along a stiff slope, now making a bold dash at the mountain-side, over loose stones which went rolling down, setting others in motion till regular avalanches rolled down into the valley hundreds of feet beneath.

“Have you ever been here before, Cil?” said Perry, who now rode close behind his friend.

“No. Never any farther than the place where I overtook you.”

“Isn’t this very dangerous?” continued Perry, as the mules climbed up, sending the loose stones rattling down to their right.

“Eh? Dangerous? I don’t know. I was wondering what they are thinking at home. Yes, I suppose it is dangerous.”

“Then hadn’t we better get down and walk?”

“What for? We couldn’t walk up so well as the mules. They’ve got four legs to our two. They’re a deal more clever and sure-footed than we should be.”

Perry kept his seat, fully expecting to have the mule make a slip, and then for them to go rolling down hundreds of feet into the valley; but in due time the gap-like opening was reached, and through this place, with the walls on either side so steep that they looked an if they had been cut, they passed into a narrow valley, or rather chasm, looking as if the mountains had been split down to their roots by some earthquake; and a chill of horror ran through Perry, as he checked his mule where the rest were panting and recovering their breath.

“Not a very cheerful-looking place, boys,” said the colonel, as he surveyed the great chasm, running apparently for miles through the mountains, zigzagging, returning upon itself, and always dark and profound in its lower part; so deep, in fact, that from where they stood it might have gone right down to the centre of the earth, while upward the sides rose, wall-like, toward three huge peaks, which looked dazzlingly white.

All at once Perry started, and it seemed as if an electric shock had passed through the mules. For there was a tremendous booming roar some distance away, followed by peal after peal, as if of thunder running for miles amongst the mountains, and not dying away till quite a couple of minutes had elapsed.

“Thunder,” whispered Perry.

“No, I think not,” said Cyril below his breath.—“What was that, Diego?” he said in the man’s tongue.

The answer was laconic, and accompanied by a smile.

“He says some of the snow fell over yonder, out of sight.”

Crash!

There was another roar, followed by its echoes.

“Look! look!” cried Cyril excitedly. “There, just below that place where the sun shines on the ice.”

“Yes, I see it,” said Perry; “a waterfall.” And he shaded his eyes to gaze at the glittering appearance of a cascade pouring over a shelf of ice into the depths below.

“Waterfall!” said the colonel, smiling. “There is no water up there to fall. It is a cataract of pieces of ice and solidified snow, thousands of tons of it broken away through the weight and the mass being loosened by the heat of the sun.”

“Gone!” cried Cyril.

“To appear again, lower down,” said the colonel, and they watched the glittering curve of dazzling ice as it reappeared and made another leap, and again another and another, lower down, till it finally disappeared by falling into some chasm behind a fold of the mountain. But the roar of the ice was continued like distant thunder, telling how enormous the fall must have been, though dwarfed by the distance into a size that appeared trifling.

Then the boys sat gazing at the black gulf before them, with its huge walls, which were nearly perpendicular in places.

“I say, of course, we’re not going along that way?” said Perry nervously.

“I don’t know,” replied Cyril; “the tracks generally do go along the worst-looking places.”

“But how can they have been so stupid as to pick those?” said Perry petulantly.

“They don’t pick them,” replied Cyril. “Only they are obliged to go along any places there are. Yes, we shall have to go along yonder.”

“Impossible.”

“How would you go, then?” said Cyril. “We’re not flies; we can’t climb up those walls; and you couldn’t go over the mountains if you wished, because of the ice and snow. You must go in and out round them where the valleys are open, and this is open enough. There is no other way.”

“But, I say, shan’t you be—er—just a little afraid to go down there?”

“No,” said Cyril quietly. “I don’t feel afraid a bit. There’s only one thing I feel afraid of now.”

“What’s that? Falling off one of the precipices?”

“No,” said Cyril sadly. “Meeting my father.”

Perry was silent, and his friend turned to Diego, who was going from mule to mule, examining the knots in the hide ropes by which the baggage was secured to the pack-saddles.

“Which way does the road go now?” he asked.

The man pointed straight along the black chasm running from below them away into the distance.

“Along there?” whispered Perry, as he comprehended the gesture.

“Yes, I thought so,” said Cyril coolly. “There can be no other way.”

“But what else did he say?” asked Perry breathlessly.

“He said, did your father want to go on any more.”

“What’s that?” cried the colonel.

Cyril repeated the man’s remark.

“Tell him of course, till I wish him to stop.”

Cyril delivered the message, and the man spoke again, gesticulating and pointing along the deep valley.

“He says, sir, that there is no place farther on where you will get a bigger valley, and that there are plenty of snow-mountains farther back.”

The colonel made a gesture full of impatience.

“What does he mean, Cyril? Doesn’t he want to go any farther?”

“I think that’s it, sir. I’ll ask him what he means.”

Cyril turned to the guide again, and there was a short, eager conversation, carried on for a minute or so.

“He says, sir, that the way along the track is very dangerous. It goes along that side, to the left, and the path is very narrow. If any one slipped, he would fall right to the bottom.”

“It must be the regular way across the mountains, where mules are accustomed to go, and he undertook to guide me; so tell him I go on.”

Cyril conveyed the colonel’s words to the man, who looked annoyed, and glanced suspiciously at the colonel as he said a few words, to which the boy replied angrily.

“What’s that? what’s that?” cried the colonel.

Cyril hesitated.

“Speak out, sir; what is it? Why don’t you speak?”

“He said he wanted to know where you wanted to go, and what for?” said Cyril, watching the colonel rather anxiously.

“Tell him as far as I please, and where I please,” said the colonel sternly. “Now then, at once; and tell him I should advise him not to ask me any more questions. Forward!”

Cyril interpreted the words, and the Indian looked sharply at his employer, to see in his eyes the glances of a man accustomed to command, and without a word he took the rein of the leading mule, and went away to the left, seeming to Perry as if he were passing over the edge of a precipice, so suddenly the descent began, a dozen yards away.

But, as is often the case among the mountains, that which had looked so terrible at a little distance, last its dangerous aspect when boldly approached, for, following closely upon the luggage mules, Perry reached the edge of that which he had supposed to be a precipice, and found that it was only a slope, going downward; but it was quite steep enough to require great care in crossing it, and the mules showed their comprehension of the fact that it must not be attacked lightly, by the way in which they walked, slowly and carefully, making sure of every step they took, till they were well across the green slope, and on to solid rock once more.

And now it was plain that the man had not exaggerated, for their path lay along what is known to geologists as a fault in the rock of which the side of the valley was composed—that is to say, the upper part of the huge mass appeared to have slipped sidewise, leaving four or five feet of the lower part of the valley wall like a shelf, and along this the mules began to walk cautiously, taking the greatest care that their loads did not touch the side of the rock, and consequently walking as close to the edge as possible.

The man had not exaggerated in the least. The shelf-like paths they had previously traversed were in places perilous enough, but here the bottom of the chasm-like valley was quite hidden from the travellers, and imagination added largely to the depth whenever either of the boys stole a glance downward.

No one spoke, but they rode on in single line, feeling appalled by the awful nature of the place, hour after hour, for the path wound and zigzagged, and seemed without end. At every slip of a mule’s hoof, at every kick against a loose stone, Cyril felt his pulses leap, and Perry turned cold with apprehension; while, whenever Cyril turned to look round at his friend, each saw in the other’s face a hard set look, and a strange, almost despairing stare in his eyes.

They were conscious of there being a rushing torrent somewhere far below, but it was down in the region of gloom, and they went on for hours without once catching even a gleam of the water, which at times sent up a dull thunderous roar, at others died away into a faint murmuring vibration, as if it were making for itself a subterranean channel through the bottom of the chasm. But little attention was paid to that, each of the travellers keeping his eyes fixed upon the narrow path in front, and rarely glancing up at the rocky wall on their left, or down into the profound gulf upon their right.

It was well on in the afternoon when, in turning an angle where the path shot off suddenly to their left, they came upon a wide opening lit up by the sun; but, saving that it was light, it was more repellent to the eye than the path along which they had come. For it was one wild chaos of tumbled-together rocks, looking as if, by some convulsion of nature, the whole of that portion of the valley side had been shattered and tumbled down from the shoulder of a huge mountain, destroying the pathway, and leaving in its place a broad stretch of masses of rocks, from pieces hundreds of tons in weight, to fragments not larger than a man’s head.

Progress across this appeared impossible, but the guide went on for a few minutes and then stopped; for rugged as the place was, it possessed the quality of being level enough to enable them to make a halt for refreshments, without being on a narrow shelf where there was not room for a mule to be turned.

Hideous as the place was, every face brightened, for the strain of feeling in great peril was for the time removed, and even the mules showed their satisfaction by whinnying to each other, and giving themselves a shake, as they began to sniff about and browse upon the dry vegetation which grew amongst the fallen stones.

“Hah!” ejaculated the colonel, as he got off his mule, and looked round and above at the pure blue sky. “One feels as if one could breathe and move now.”

“Yes,” said Perry, with a shudder; “it was horrible.”

“Nonsense, boy,” cried the colonel. “It was not a place one would select for a nice walk, but I should not have liked to miss such a journey. People at home do not know there are such wildly-grand places in the world—eh, Cyril?”

“No, sir,” replied the latter eagerly, for a pleasant word or two from the colonel was like a gleam of sunshine in his breast; “but it was dangerous. I should not have liked to get off my mule on that shelf.”

“Not on the precipice side, certainly,” said the colonel.

“Why, there wasn’t any room on the other,” cried Perry; “and if one had turned giddy, one would have gone down, down—ugh!”

“Yes, the place did look deep,” said the colonel, “but no one did turn giddy, and the mules went along as steadily as if they had been on a turnpike road.—Well, Manning, what’s the matter?”

“I was thinking about our having to go back along that there path, sir.”

“Well, I daresay we shall,” replied the colonel, “but you don’t mind.”

“Not mind, sir?” cried the old soldier gloomily.

“Not you, my man. I grant it is a little dangerous, but not so bad as walking along a shelf in the Nagari pass, with a Belooch behind every stone, taking aim at one with his long matchlock.”

John Manning grinned, took off his hat, and scratched his head.

“You did not complain about the danger then,” continued the colonel.

“No, sir, I didn’t, did I!” said the man, wrinkling up his face a little more; “and I ain’t going to grumble about this neither. I’ll go wherever you lead, colonel, like a soldier should.”

“Yes; I knew that when I chose you to come with us, Manning,” said the colonel quietly. “Well, what about dinner? We had better have it upon that flat-topped stone.”

“I shan’t be five minutes, sir; but I was hesitating about that stone. It’s just in the hot sunshine, and if there are any snakes about here, that seems a likely place.”

“Any snakes about here, Diego?” asked Cyril, and the man shook his head, and replied that it was too cold.

A few minutes later they were enjoying a hearty meal, and the mules were revelling in their freedom from their loads, while the two Indians sat munching their sun-dried strips of meat, and talking together in a low voice.

“All these stones and rocks tumbled down from above, I suppose, sir?” said Cyril, after a prolonged look upward at the peak which rose high above them, with its smooth sides glittering with snow, and a thin, white, gauzy cloud just hiding the extreme point.

“Yes, my lad,” said the colonel, shading his eyes, and looking up. “The snow hides the old scar, but I should say that during some eruption the whole side of the crater fell outward, and crumbled down to here, as you say.”

“Crater?” cried Cyril.

“Yes; don’t you see that it is a volcano?”

“I did not, sir. Then those clouds up there are smoke?”

“More likely steam.”

“Steam? Those clouds?” cried Perry, gazing up. “And is this a burning mountain?”

“Yes. You will be able to say you have been on the side of a volcano,” said the colonel quietly. “Look at all this broken stone about; how glistening a great deal is, as if it had been molten. That piece, too, looks like scoria.”

“Then hadn’t we better go on at once?” cried Perry, getting up from the stone on which he was seated.

“What for? Are you afraid of an eruption?” said the colonel, with a shade of contempt in his voice.—“Feel that stone where he was sitting, Cyril; perhaps it is warm.”

“Yes, it was quite warm when I sat down upon it,” said Perry hastily. “All the stones about here are nearly hot.”

“Of course they are, sir,” cried his father. “Have they not been baking in this hot sunshine? There, sit down and finish your dinner. Mountains don’t break out into eruption without giving some warning.”

“But this must have been quite lately, sir,” said Cyril, to turn the colonel’s fire.

“Geologically lately, my lad,” he said, picking up and examining a stone, “but not in our time, nor our grandfathers’. In all probability these stones came crumbling down some hundreds of years ago.”

“Then you think there is no fear of another eruption, father?”

“If I did think there was, do you think I should be sitting here so calmly?” replied the colonel.

Perry had nothing to say to this, and he soon after became interested in a conversation which took place between Cyril and the guide, waiting impatiently until it was at an end.

“What does he say?” asked Perry, as Cyril turned away.

“That as soon as we’ve passed this rough place there’s another path, like the one we’ve come by, and he wants to know if your father means to risk it.”

Perry felt a shrinking sensation, but he said nothing, knowing how determined his father was when he had set his mind upon a thing.

“I told him we were going, of course. But, I say, Perry,” whispered Cyril, “how far does he mean to go?”

Perry shook his head.

“Is it any use to ask him where he means to stop?” whispered Cyril.

“No; not a bit.”

“Hallo! Look here!” cried Cyril, and Perry snatched up his piece from where it lay.

“Look out, father!” he cried, as one by one, with solemn, slow stride, some half-dozen peculiar-looking, flat-backed, long-necked animals came into sight round an angle of the valley at the far side of the chaos of stones amongst which they had made their halt.

“Put down that gun. Don’t be stupid,” cried Cyril. “Can’t you see they are llamas?”

“What if they are? I suppose they are good to eat.”

“I shouldn’t like to try one,” cried Cyril, laughing.

The colonel had now caught sight of the animals, which kept on coming round the corner in regular file, with their long necks held up stiffly.

“Quite a caravan,” the colonel said. “Ask Diego what they are carrying.”

“I know, without asking, sir,” said Cyril eagerly. “They’re bringing down Quinquina—kina, as they call it. You know, sir—bark.”

“Hah!” ejaculated the colonel eagerly, and he took out the little double glass he carried to examine the train of animals, which had evidently come from the track that they were to pursue after their halt.

“You’re wrong, I think, my lad,” said the colonel, after a long examination through his glass. “They have all got bales of something on their backs, and, judging from the outside, I think they are skins or hides.”

“Yes, sir, that’s right,” cried Cyril, “but it is bark inside. They make the bark up into bales, and cover them with hides before binding them up. I know; I’ve seen them before.”

The colonel continued his inspection, and Cyril hurriedly questioned the guide before speaking to the former again.

“He says they are taking the kina down to the port, and that they will halt here to rest.”

“Then we’ll stay a little longer and see them,” said the colonel, closing his glass after seeing several armed men turn the corner and begin to climb beside the llamas over the rugged stones.

Chapter Nine.Cyril Scents Danger.As the men in charge of the llamas came in sight of the colonel and his party, they waited for more and more to join them, and it soon became plain that they expected or meditated an attack; but a peaceful message sent on by the colonel gave them confidence, and the swarthy men, for the most part armed, came on, followed now by their charge, till the great opening in the rock-wall was filled by the drove of rough, woolly-looking animals; there being over five hundred in the caravan, and each bearing about a hundredweight of the precious fever-averting bark.Diego and Cyril’s powers were soon brought into requisition for interpreting; the strangers willingly stating where they were going, but proving themselves as eager to know the colonel’s business as he showed himself about the bark bales, before the mules were once more loaded, and the English party started again, so as to get to the end of the valley before dark.The coming of the caravan had given the boys encouragement, for, as Cyril argued to Perry, the track could not be so very bad if that drove of animals bearing loads could come along it in safety.“I don’t know about that,” replied Perry. “I had a good look at them. Short-legged, broad things like these, with soft spongy feet like camels, seem made for walking up here among the rocks; while the mules, with their long legs and hard hoofs, look as if they might slip and go over at any time.”This was just after they had started, and found, as soon as they had cleared the rocky chaos, that the shelf path was so wide that the lads were able to ride abreast; and as the colonel had gone right in front with the guide, the boys began talking about the men with the llamas.“Any one would think your father wanted to go into the kina trade,” said Cyril, who was rapidly recovering his spirits. “Did you notice how the Indian frowned when Diego kept on talking to him, and I asked all those questions for your father?”“I thought he seemed impatient and tired, and as if he wanted to sit down and rest.”“Oh, it wasn’t that,” said Cyril quietly; “it’s because they want to keep all about the bark trees very secret, so that no one else shall be able to grow it and supply it for sale. You heard my father say how the people who went in search of the trees never came back again. Father feels sure that they were murdered.”“No; that was the people who went after the treasures.”“Oh, was it? I forget. Perhaps it was both,” said Cyril. “My head got in such a muddle over my coming after you, that things are mixed. I suppose it was because Colonel Campion asked so much about the kina.”“Father takes a great interest in everything; that’s why he travels and has come here,” said Perry. “Look, there goes a condor.”“Well, let him go,” said Cyril. “He isn’t good to eat, and you’ve got plenty of provisions to last till you get to some village on the other side of the mountains. But, I say, it does seem strange that you people should come here of all places in the world.”“I don’t see it,” replied Perry. “It’s a very wonderful place to come to, but I wish it wasn’t quite so dangerous. I keep feeling afraid of turning giddy.”“Yes, it’s a wonderful place to come to, and I had no idea that the valleys were so awful and deep; but I should enjoy it if it wasn’t for thinking of them at home. I hope they believe I’ve come after you. Wish I’d left a line to say where I had gone.”“It’s too late to wish that now,” said Perry.“Yes, but one can’t help wishing it all the same. I wish I knew why your father has come up here.”At that moment there was a warning shout from forward, and another from John Manning in the rear, for the boys had been so wrapped in their thoughts that they had not noticed how rapidly the path was narrowing. They had, however, another hint, and that was from Cyril’s mule, which, from long training on similar paths, knew exactly what to do, and went on ahead, while Perry’s stopped short on the narrowing shelf which followed all the windings and angles of the rocky wall, and had become so strait that Perry shrank from watching the laden mules, whose loads every now and then brushed against the stones, and one completely caught against a rough projection, making the intelligent animal that bore it stop and ease away a little, leaning more and more over the precipice till Perry’s hands turned cold and wet, and he held his breath. Just, though, as he was about to close his eyes, so as not to see the poor brute plunge headlong down to where it would certainly be dashed to pieces, the load escaped from the awkward corner, and the mule trudged on just as before, while Perry heard a deeply-drawn sigh just behind him.“I thought he’d have gone, Master Perry,” said John Manning. “Mules ain’t got no nerves, that’s for certain, and if ever you hear any one say in the future as a donkey’s a stupid animal, you tell him he don’t know what he’s talking about.”“That mule’s sensible enough, at all events,” said Perry, without venturing to turn his head, lest he should have to look down into the gulf.“Sensible, sir? Why, he acted just as a human being would. I call it wonderful. I say, Master Perry, though.”“Yes? But I wish you wouldn’t talk to me so, while we are going along a place like this.”“Don’t say so, Master Perry, because I want to talk. It keeps one from feeling a bit skeary, because this is a place, sir, really.”“Well, what do you want to say? Speak loud, for I can’t turn round to listen.”“But if I speak loud, the colonel will hear me, sir, and I want to talk about him.”“Well, go on then; what is it?”“Can’t you tell me, sir, where we’re going to, and what we’re going for?”“We’re going over the mountains, John.”“Well, sir, I know that; but what are we going for?”“To find the valley of diamonds, and throw down lumps of meat for the rocs to fetch out.”“No, no, sir, that won’t do,” said John Manning, shaking his head. “As you said to me the other day, that’s only a story out of the’Rabian Nights, and not real truth, though these places might just as well be something of the kind, from the looks of them. But, I say, sir, you do know where we’re going, and what for, don’t you?”“No, I have not the slightest idea. Ask my father yourself.”“What, sir! Me ask the colonel about the plan of his campaign? Why, I should as soon have thought of asking the Dook o’ Wellington.”“We shall know in good time, I daresay,” said Perry; and then a slip on the part of one of the mules ahead made them turn cold once more.But the clever animal recovered itself on the instant, and for hours they kept on along this path, till the boys despaired of reaching its end, and began to calculate on the possibility of having to encamp on a place like that for the night.But it is a long lane that has no turning, and just when there was a sensible deepening of the gloom, and the peeps they had of the sky overhead were of a golden amber, they turned an angle and became aware of an increase in the murmuring sound of water, which thenceforth grew louder and louder, till it was evident that they were approaching some extensive fall.An hour later they were in full sight of where it came thundering down hundreds of feet, spouting forth from a gap, and plunging down on to a huge buttress of rock, which shot it off again far into the air, distributing it so that it went on down into the valley like a misty rain, and without a sound arising from below.The fall was magnificent, for, as they approached, the upper part was turned to gold by the setting sun, and to add to the beauty of the scene, there was a patch of forest on either side, and the narrow shelf was broadening out to where it ran into a side valley, all golden green and darkened shadow. For they had reached the end of the terrific gorge, and there were scores of places just in front ready for the formation of ideal camps, without the risk of an incautious step sending its unhappy author thousands of feet down into the depths below.In another half-hour they were in a place which, by comparison with the sterile defile of darkness and depression, seemed to the lads beautiful in the extreme; and after a hearty meal, while the colonel was looking round the camp, as he called it, and having a farewell glance for the night at the mules, which were thoroughly enjoying the abundance of grass, Cyril sat looking very thoughtful and depressed.“He’s thinking of home and his people,” said Perry to himself, and then, on the impulse of the moment:“I say,” he cried, “why didn’t my father send you back along with the llama train? I never thought of that before.”“Are you in such a hurry to get rid of me?” said Cyril bitterly.“No, of course not; but as he said he should send you home by the first, I thought it strange that he had not done so.”“Because they were not going to San Geronimo,” said Cyril quietly. “They would turn off to the north, just where I first joined you, and I suppose he thought, after what I had suffered, it would be too cruel to send me to find a great deal of my way back with people like that.”They relapsed into silence for a time, during which period John Manning cleared away and washed up as methodically as if he were at home, while the two Indians sat by the fire munching away at the supply of biscuit given to them.“What are you thinking about, Perry?” said Cyril at last.“The stars. How big and bright they are up here. What were you thinking about?”“Diego, our guide.”“What about him?—that he ought to be fonder of water, even if it is icily-cold?”“No,” said Cyril seriously. “I want to know why he has turned so quiet and serious, and why he seems to be always watching your father in such a peculiar way.”“Father was sharp with him, and ordered him to go on, when he seemed to want to go back.”“Yes, and I suppose he did not quite like it; but that isn’t all.”“What is all, then?” said Perry.“Ah, that’s what I want to find out. He puzzles me. He’s thinking about something, and I shouldn’t wonder if he has taken it into his head that your father has come up here to look for the Incas’ treasures.”“Pooh! Why should he think that?” returned Perry.“Because these Indian chaps are horribly suspicious as well as superstitious. They would think it a horrible sin to touch the gold if there is any; and if it is found, they would be ready to defend it.”“What with? Bows and arrows?” cried Perry, laughing.“Yes, and blowpipes.”“Why don’t you introduce pop-guns as well?”“Because they are toys,” said Cyril seriously, “and blowpipes are not. Don’t you know the tiny darts they send out are poisoned, and that one will kill anything it hits?”“Is that true?” said Perry, whose eyes dilated at the idea.“Quite true. I saw a man kill several birds with the darts. They died almost directly they were struck, and I have been told by father that he has seen small animals die in a few minutes after being scratched.”“But do you think—Oh, what nonsense! You have got your head crammed with that idea about the gold.”“Perhaps so,” said Cyril thoughtfully, “and maybe I’m wrong. But I don’t like to see old Diego turn so gruff and distant, and it seemed strange for him to go and talk for a long time with the Indians in charge of the llamas. I saw them look very strangely and suspiciously at your father afterwards.”“Those Indians? Why, what could it be to them? Ah, the Peruvian Indians are said to be joined together to protect everything belonging to the old days when they were a great nation, and keep it for the time when the Incas come back to rule over them again.”“Say, Master Perry,” said John Manning in a low voice, “your eyes are younger than mine. Just cast ’em along the rock path we come to-day.”“Yes, what for?”“Are you looking straight along, sir?”“Yes.”“Well, what do you see?”“Nothing at all.”“Try again, sir.”Both Perry and Cyril looked along the path, tracing it faintly in the coming night for some distance along, beyond where the great fall came thundering down.“I can’t see anything,” said Perry.“Nor I,” said Cyril. “Yes, I can. There’s something that looks like shadows moving.”“Steady, sir; don’t seem as if you were noticing it, but notice it all the same. It struck me as strange ten minutes ago, but I thought it was fancy. But you see it, sir, and it must be right. Now then, sir, what do you make that to be?”“Indians,” said Cyril promptly.“That’s right, sir—what I thought; and they’re watching us, and after no good.”“What! Do you think they are hanging round the camp to try to steal?”“Don’t know, sir,” said John Manning gruffly. “I hope that’s the worst.”

As the men in charge of the llamas came in sight of the colonel and his party, they waited for more and more to join them, and it soon became plain that they expected or meditated an attack; but a peaceful message sent on by the colonel gave them confidence, and the swarthy men, for the most part armed, came on, followed now by their charge, till the great opening in the rock-wall was filled by the drove of rough, woolly-looking animals; there being over five hundred in the caravan, and each bearing about a hundredweight of the precious fever-averting bark.

Diego and Cyril’s powers were soon brought into requisition for interpreting; the strangers willingly stating where they were going, but proving themselves as eager to know the colonel’s business as he showed himself about the bark bales, before the mules were once more loaded, and the English party started again, so as to get to the end of the valley before dark.

The coming of the caravan had given the boys encouragement, for, as Cyril argued to Perry, the track could not be so very bad if that drove of animals bearing loads could come along it in safety.

“I don’t know about that,” replied Perry. “I had a good look at them. Short-legged, broad things like these, with soft spongy feet like camels, seem made for walking up here among the rocks; while the mules, with their long legs and hard hoofs, look as if they might slip and go over at any time.”

This was just after they had started, and found, as soon as they had cleared the rocky chaos, that the shelf path was so wide that the lads were able to ride abreast; and as the colonel had gone right in front with the guide, the boys began talking about the men with the llamas.

“Any one would think your father wanted to go into the kina trade,” said Cyril, who was rapidly recovering his spirits. “Did you notice how the Indian frowned when Diego kept on talking to him, and I asked all those questions for your father?”

“I thought he seemed impatient and tired, and as if he wanted to sit down and rest.”

“Oh, it wasn’t that,” said Cyril quietly; “it’s because they want to keep all about the bark trees very secret, so that no one else shall be able to grow it and supply it for sale. You heard my father say how the people who went in search of the trees never came back again. Father feels sure that they were murdered.”

“No; that was the people who went after the treasures.”

“Oh, was it? I forget. Perhaps it was both,” said Cyril. “My head got in such a muddle over my coming after you, that things are mixed. I suppose it was because Colonel Campion asked so much about the kina.”

“Father takes a great interest in everything; that’s why he travels and has come here,” said Perry. “Look, there goes a condor.”

“Well, let him go,” said Cyril. “He isn’t good to eat, and you’ve got plenty of provisions to last till you get to some village on the other side of the mountains. But, I say, it does seem strange that you people should come here of all places in the world.”

“I don’t see it,” replied Perry. “It’s a very wonderful place to come to, but I wish it wasn’t quite so dangerous. I keep feeling afraid of turning giddy.”

“Yes, it’s a wonderful place to come to, and I had no idea that the valleys were so awful and deep; but I should enjoy it if it wasn’t for thinking of them at home. I hope they believe I’ve come after you. Wish I’d left a line to say where I had gone.”

“It’s too late to wish that now,” said Perry.

“Yes, but one can’t help wishing it all the same. I wish I knew why your father has come up here.”

At that moment there was a warning shout from forward, and another from John Manning in the rear, for the boys had been so wrapped in their thoughts that they had not noticed how rapidly the path was narrowing. They had, however, another hint, and that was from Cyril’s mule, which, from long training on similar paths, knew exactly what to do, and went on ahead, while Perry’s stopped short on the narrowing shelf which followed all the windings and angles of the rocky wall, and had become so strait that Perry shrank from watching the laden mules, whose loads every now and then brushed against the stones, and one completely caught against a rough projection, making the intelligent animal that bore it stop and ease away a little, leaning more and more over the precipice till Perry’s hands turned cold and wet, and he held his breath. Just, though, as he was about to close his eyes, so as not to see the poor brute plunge headlong down to where it would certainly be dashed to pieces, the load escaped from the awkward corner, and the mule trudged on just as before, while Perry heard a deeply-drawn sigh just behind him.

“I thought he’d have gone, Master Perry,” said John Manning. “Mules ain’t got no nerves, that’s for certain, and if ever you hear any one say in the future as a donkey’s a stupid animal, you tell him he don’t know what he’s talking about.”

“That mule’s sensible enough, at all events,” said Perry, without venturing to turn his head, lest he should have to look down into the gulf.

“Sensible, sir? Why, he acted just as a human being would. I call it wonderful. I say, Master Perry, though.”

“Yes? But I wish you wouldn’t talk to me so, while we are going along a place like this.”

“Don’t say so, Master Perry, because I want to talk. It keeps one from feeling a bit skeary, because this is a place, sir, really.”

“Well, what do you want to say? Speak loud, for I can’t turn round to listen.”

“But if I speak loud, the colonel will hear me, sir, and I want to talk about him.”

“Well, go on then; what is it?”

“Can’t you tell me, sir, where we’re going to, and what we’re going for?”

“We’re going over the mountains, John.”

“Well, sir, I know that; but what are we going for?”

“To find the valley of diamonds, and throw down lumps of meat for the rocs to fetch out.”

“No, no, sir, that won’t do,” said John Manning, shaking his head. “As you said to me the other day, that’s only a story out of the’Rabian Nights, and not real truth, though these places might just as well be something of the kind, from the looks of them. But, I say, sir, you do know where we’re going, and what for, don’t you?”

“No, I have not the slightest idea. Ask my father yourself.”

“What, sir! Me ask the colonel about the plan of his campaign? Why, I should as soon have thought of asking the Dook o’ Wellington.”

“We shall know in good time, I daresay,” said Perry; and then a slip on the part of one of the mules ahead made them turn cold once more.

But the clever animal recovered itself on the instant, and for hours they kept on along this path, till the boys despaired of reaching its end, and began to calculate on the possibility of having to encamp on a place like that for the night.

But it is a long lane that has no turning, and just when there was a sensible deepening of the gloom, and the peeps they had of the sky overhead were of a golden amber, they turned an angle and became aware of an increase in the murmuring sound of water, which thenceforth grew louder and louder, till it was evident that they were approaching some extensive fall.

An hour later they were in full sight of where it came thundering down hundreds of feet, spouting forth from a gap, and plunging down on to a huge buttress of rock, which shot it off again far into the air, distributing it so that it went on down into the valley like a misty rain, and without a sound arising from below.

The fall was magnificent, for, as they approached, the upper part was turned to gold by the setting sun, and to add to the beauty of the scene, there was a patch of forest on either side, and the narrow shelf was broadening out to where it ran into a side valley, all golden green and darkened shadow. For they had reached the end of the terrific gorge, and there were scores of places just in front ready for the formation of ideal camps, without the risk of an incautious step sending its unhappy author thousands of feet down into the depths below.

In another half-hour they were in a place which, by comparison with the sterile defile of darkness and depression, seemed to the lads beautiful in the extreme; and after a hearty meal, while the colonel was looking round the camp, as he called it, and having a farewell glance for the night at the mules, which were thoroughly enjoying the abundance of grass, Cyril sat looking very thoughtful and depressed.

“He’s thinking of home and his people,” said Perry to himself, and then, on the impulse of the moment:

“I say,” he cried, “why didn’t my father send you back along with the llama train? I never thought of that before.”

“Are you in such a hurry to get rid of me?” said Cyril bitterly.

“No, of course not; but as he said he should send you home by the first, I thought it strange that he had not done so.”

“Because they were not going to San Geronimo,” said Cyril quietly. “They would turn off to the north, just where I first joined you, and I suppose he thought, after what I had suffered, it would be too cruel to send me to find a great deal of my way back with people like that.”

They relapsed into silence for a time, during which period John Manning cleared away and washed up as methodically as if he were at home, while the two Indians sat by the fire munching away at the supply of biscuit given to them.

“What are you thinking about, Perry?” said Cyril at last.

“The stars. How big and bright they are up here. What were you thinking about?”

“Diego, our guide.”

“What about him?—that he ought to be fonder of water, even if it is icily-cold?”

“No,” said Cyril seriously. “I want to know why he has turned so quiet and serious, and why he seems to be always watching your father in such a peculiar way.”

“Father was sharp with him, and ordered him to go on, when he seemed to want to go back.”

“Yes, and I suppose he did not quite like it; but that isn’t all.”

“What is all, then?” said Perry.

“Ah, that’s what I want to find out. He puzzles me. He’s thinking about something, and I shouldn’t wonder if he has taken it into his head that your father has come up here to look for the Incas’ treasures.”

“Pooh! Why should he think that?” returned Perry.

“Because these Indian chaps are horribly suspicious as well as superstitious. They would think it a horrible sin to touch the gold if there is any; and if it is found, they would be ready to defend it.”

“What with? Bows and arrows?” cried Perry, laughing.

“Yes, and blowpipes.”

“Why don’t you introduce pop-guns as well?”

“Because they are toys,” said Cyril seriously, “and blowpipes are not. Don’t you know the tiny darts they send out are poisoned, and that one will kill anything it hits?”

“Is that true?” said Perry, whose eyes dilated at the idea.

“Quite true. I saw a man kill several birds with the darts. They died almost directly they were struck, and I have been told by father that he has seen small animals die in a few minutes after being scratched.”

“But do you think—Oh, what nonsense! You have got your head crammed with that idea about the gold.”

“Perhaps so,” said Cyril thoughtfully, “and maybe I’m wrong. But I don’t like to see old Diego turn so gruff and distant, and it seemed strange for him to go and talk for a long time with the Indians in charge of the llamas. I saw them look very strangely and suspiciously at your father afterwards.”

“Those Indians? Why, what could it be to them? Ah, the Peruvian Indians are said to be joined together to protect everything belonging to the old days when they were a great nation, and keep it for the time when the Incas come back to rule over them again.”

“Say, Master Perry,” said John Manning in a low voice, “your eyes are younger than mine. Just cast ’em along the rock path we come to-day.”

“Yes, what for?”

“Are you looking straight along, sir?”

“Yes.”

“Well, what do you see?”

“Nothing at all.”

“Try again, sir.”

Both Perry and Cyril looked along the path, tracing it faintly in the coming night for some distance along, beyond where the great fall came thundering down.

“I can’t see anything,” said Perry.

“Nor I,” said Cyril. “Yes, I can. There’s something that looks like shadows moving.”

“Steady, sir; don’t seem as if you were noticing it, but notice it all the same. It struck me as strange ten minutes ago, but I thought it was fancy. But you see it, sir, and it must be right. Now then, sir, what do you make that to be?”

“Indians,” said Cyril promptly.

“That’s right, sir—what I thought; and they’re watching us, and after no good.”

“What! Do you think they are hanging round the camp to try to steal?”

“Don’t know, sir,” said John Manning gruffly. “I hope that’s the worst.”

Chapter Ten.John Manning Thinks.John Manning’s curious remark sent a thrill through Cyril, and, trying hard not to appear as if watching, he strained his eyes in the direction indicated, but the gloom had increased, and neither he nor Perry could make out anything more.“What do you mean by ‘you hope that’s the worst?’” said Perry.“Well, sir, I hardly know how to tell you.”“Speak out,” said Cyril rather huskily. “If you think there’s danger, tell us, so that we can tell the colonel, and put him on his guard.”“Well, young gents, I did give him a hint once, but he nearly jumped down my throat,” said John Manning.“What!” cried the boys in a breath.“Well, sir, that’s what you clever folk call methy-physical. I told him I didn’t think the Indians was to be trusted, and that I fancied they were keeping an eye upon everything he did, and he insulted me, sir.”“Nonsense, John,” said Perry. “My father wouldn’t insult you.”“O’ course you stick up for your dad, Master Perry, as is quite right natural, and your duty to. But I put it to you, Master Cyril: he’s a soldier, and I’m a soldier, and if one soldier calls another a stoopid old woman, with no more pluck than a quill pen, isn’t that an insult?”“But Colonel Campion did not mean it, I’m sure,” said Cyril impatiently. “Now then, don’t waste time. What is it you think?”“Well, sir, I think our Indians said something to those Indians who were with the llamas, and three or four turned back and followed after us.”“Are you sure?” said Cyril anxiously.“Well, sir, I’m sure I saw some of them dodging us and following. I wasn’t very sure at first, for I thought p’raps the colonel was right, and I was a bit of an old woman growing scared at shadows; but I feel pretty sure now.”“But why should they follow us?” asked Cyril tentatively. “You have some idea in your head.”“Well, sir, I have; and whether it’s right or wrong I can’t say, but it seems to me as these people are all in league together, and they don’t want anybody to come up in the mountains. They want to know what we’re about.”“But don’t you fancy that, because it is what you have been thinking, John,” said Perry. “You have been wonderfully anxious to know where we were going, and what for.”“That’s a true word, sir,” replied the man, “but I think they want to know too. It seems to me they’re afraid we want to take something out of their country.”“Nonsense,” said Perry.“Nonsense!” said Cyril sharply. “He’s right, Perry. It’s just what I told you, and—”“Now, quick, Mr Cyril!” whispered John. “Turn towards me, as if you were going to speak, and look toward the path we came by.”Cyril responded quickly, and saw by the light of the fire, which had just then blazed up brightly, a dark face peering at them over a great piece of rock. He even saw the flash of the fire in the watcher’s eyes, and then, as he pretended to hand something to Manning, his look was averted for a moment, and when he glanced again in the same direction, the face was gone.Cyril responded quickly, and saw a dark face peering at them over a great piece of rock.“Now, Master Cyril, what do you say?” whispered John Manning.“I say it may only be curiosity,” replied Cyril, “but certainly we are being watched, and the colonel ought to know directly.”“Hah!” ejaculated the old soldier, with a sigh of satisfaction, “this puts one in mind of old times up in the hill-country, with the niggers waiting to go at you with matchlock or knife. I didn’t think I was ever going to have the luck to see a bit of fighting again.”Perry started, and Cyril’s face looked in the firelight as if it was flushed.“Where’s the colonel?” he said quickly. “Be steady, Perry, old chap. There’s nothing to be frightened about. Don’t look as if anything was the matter. Come and find your father, and let’s go and speak to Diego and the other man.”“But I can’t speak to them,” said Perry excitedly.“Never mind, I will. Come along.”“And suppose they shoot at us,” whispered Perry, “with an arrow or blowpipe?”“They’d better!” said Cyril grimly. “But they won’t do that. Come on.”He walked on toward the fire, behind which the two Indians were crouched, apparently enjoying the warmth and the charqui they were munching; but they gazed furtively up at the two boys as they came up, and one of them started slightly as Cyril made a sudden stoop, but became impassive directly when the boy picked up two or three half-burned brands and threw them into the middle of the fire before holding his hands out to the flame.“The waterfall makes it feel cold up here, and damp,” he said to the guide in his patois, and the man smiled as he spoke, and then pointed up a defile away above them as he replied.“What does he say?” asked Perry.“That the wind comes down that narrow rift from the snow, and it is that which makes it cold. I only half understand him.”He turned laughingly to the guide, and said a few words to that effect, and the man laughed and nodded as he replied.“Oh, what a big fib!” said Cyril merrily. “He says I speak his tongue beautifully.—Oh, there’s the colonel looking round at the mules. They’re having a beautiful feed here. Plenty of grass for the mules,” he said to the Indian, and the man nodded again, and said it was good.The colonel said something very similar, as the boys strolled carelessly up, at a time when Perry felt as if he must run to his father, shouting: “Look out! Danger!”“We must stay here two or three days, boys,” the colonel said. “The mules will revel in this grass and fresh water, and make up for their fasting lately.”“I think not, sir,” said Cyril, speaking carelessly, and making believe to pat one of the mules, which turned sharply round and showed him its heels.“What do you mean, sir?”Cyril told him quickly; and as he spoke, the colonel’s hand twitched, and went involuntarily to his side, as if he were seeking a sword.“Humph!” he ejaculated. Then quietly, and looking at the mules: “That’s right, lads; don’t make a sign. I daresay John Manning is right. He has eyes like a hawk, and he is true as steel. Well, I’m not surprised. I half expected it, though not quite so soon.”“What shall we do then, father?” said Perry anxiously. “Go back?”“Englishmen don’t go back, Perry,” said his father gravely. “They would not have colonised the whole world if they did. No, boy, we are going on, and I don’t think there is anything to fear. These people are all joined together to watch every stranger who comes into their country, in dread lest they should be in search of the Incas’ treasures, and they would be ready to fight in defence.”“And kill us, father,” said Perry, with his lips paling in the firelight.“If we let them, boy. But we are well-armed, John Manning and I, and know how to use our weapons if it should come to a struggle, which I doubt.”“Then you have come in search of something, sir! I knew it,” cried Cyril.“Yes, I have come in search of something, boy, and I mean to find it and take it away out of the country in spite of all their watchfulness and care. Now, then, what do you say to that? Are you afraid, and do you want to get back?”“I don’t know, sir,” said Cyril quietly. “Yes, I do. I can’t help feeling a bit frightened like. I don’t want to, but I do.”“And you wish to go back? For I warn you I am going on in spite of all obstacles.”“No, I don’t,” said Cyril quietly. “I shall go with you. I’m not going to leave Perry in the lurch.”“There’s a coward for you, Perry, my boy,” said the colonel, laughing. “You must be a very good sort of a fellow to have made a friend like that; one who risks his father’s anger to come with you, and who is now ready to run more risks for your sake.”“I’m afraid it isn’t that, sir,” said Cyril frankly. “I wanted to come because I thought it was going to be a great treat.”“There, say no more now. Listen to me. I shall take it for granted that we have spies in the camp, and that, consequent upon their communication to the men of the llama caravan, some of that party are following us. Of course the poor fellows consider that they are performing a religious duty, so I shall not charge them with their action. They will go on watching us till they find I have done something which calls for immediate action. Till then we are safe.”“Then you will not do anything, sir?” said Cyril, looking quite aghast.“Oh yes, I shall be upon my guard. From now there will be watch set every night in camp, and we shall sleep with our arms charged and ready for action at a moment’s notice.”“Yes,” said Cyril, with a sigh of satisfaction.“You can handle a gun, Cyril?”“Yes, sir, after a fashion. I have often been up in the hills with my father, shooting.”“That will do,” said the colonel. “Now let’s go and have a look at the falls before setting watch and going to our blankets. Tell the men to keep up a pretty good fire, Cyril.”He led the way to where the Indians were seated as he spoke, and nodded to them smilingly as Cyril gave his orders; and then, as the men quickly obeyed them, the colonel led the way to the edge of a cliff! From here they could see the large body of water come gliding down in a curve from far away up in the darkness, to gleam in the firelight as it passed them, and then dive down into the deeper darkness below.“An awful-looking place, boys, in the darkness,” said the colonel quietly. “There now, we’ll seek our blankets—at least you shall, for I shall take the first watch; John Manning will take the second.”“Shall I sit up with you, father?” said Perry.“No, my lad, we must husband our resources. Your turn will come to-morrow night. Remember what I said about the guns. Make no show, but have your ammunition ready for use at a moment’s notice. The Indians will see that, you may depend upon it, and act accordingly.”Half an hour later the two boys were lying inside a little shelter formed of the mules’ packs and a wall-like mass of rock, listening to the roar of the falls, and watching the figure of the colonel standing gazing out into the night, as he rested his chin upon the barrel of his piece.“I shan’t go to sleep to-night,” said Perry in a whisper.“Oh yes, you will. I shall,” replied Cyril.Just then John Manning came close up, with his gun in his hand.“Good-night, gentlemen,” he said. “Colonel says I’m to come and lie in the shelter here. Don’t kick in the night, please, because I’m going to be at your feet. I had a messmate once out in India, who, when we were in barracks, used to sleep like a lamb, but so sure as we were on the march and had to share a tent, which meant he slept in his boots, you might just as well have gone to sleep with a pack of commissariat mules, for the way in which he’d let go with his heels was a wonder. Good-night, gentlemen, good-night.”

John Manning’s curious remark sent a thrill through Cyril, and, trying hard not to appear as if watching, he strained his eyes in the direction indicated, but the gloom had increased, and neither he nor Perry could make out anything more.

“What do you mean by ‘you hope that’s the worst?’” said Perry.

“Well, sir, I hardly know how to tell you.”

“Speak out,” said Cyril rather huskily. “If you think there’s danger, tell us, so that we can tell the colonel, and put him on his guard.”

“Well, young gents, I did give him a hint once, but he nearly jumped down my throat,” said John Manning.

“What!” cried the boys in a breath.

“Well, sir, that’s what you clever folk call methy-physical. I told him I didn’t think the Indians was to be trusted, and that I fancied they were keeping an eye upon everything he did, and he insulted me, sir.”

“Nonsense, John,” said Perry. “My father wouldn’t insult you.”

“O’ course you stick up for your dad, Master Perry, as is quite right natural, and your duty to. But I put it to you, Master Cyril: he’s a soldier, and I’m a soldier, and if one soldier calls another a stoopid old woman, with no more pluck than a quill pen, isn’t that an insult?”

“But Colonel Campion did not mean it, I’m sure,” said Cyril impatiently. “Now then, don’t waste time. What is it you think?”

“Well, sir, I think our Indians said something to those Indians who were with the llamas, and three or four turned back and followed after us.”

“Are you sure?” said Cyril anxiously.

“Well, sir, I’m sure I saw some of them dodging us and following. I wasn’t very sure at first, for I thought p’raps the colonel was right, and I was a bit of an old woman growing scared at shadows; but I feel pretty sure now.”

“But why should they follow us?” asked Cyril tentatively. “You have some idea in your head.”

“Well, sir, I have; and whether it’s right or wrong I can’t say, but it seems to me as these people are all in league together, and they don’t want anybody to come up in the mountains. They want to know what we’re about.”

“But don’t you fancy that, because it is what you have been thinking, John,” said Perry. “You have been wonderfully anxious to know where we were going, and what for.”

“That’s a true word, sir,” replied the man, “but I think they want to know too. It seems to me they’re afraid we want to take something out of their country.”

“Nonsense,” said Perry.

“Nonsense!” said Cyril sharply. “He’s right, Perry. It’s just what I told you, and—”

“Now, quick, Mr Cyril!” whispered John. “Turn towards me, as if you were going to speak, and look toward the path we came by.”

Cyril responded quickly, and saw by the light of the fire, which had just then blazed up brightly, a dark face peering at them over a great piece of rock. He even saw the flash of the fire in the watcher’s eyes, and then, as he pretended to hand something to Manning, his look was averted for a moment, and when he glanced again in the same direction, the face was gone.

Cyril responded quickly, and saw a dark face peering at them over a great piece of rock.

“Now, Master Cyril, what do you say?” whispered John Manning.

“I say it may only be curiosity,” replied Cyril, “but certainly we are being watched, and the colonel ought to know directly.”

“Hah!” ejaculated the old soldier, with a sigh of satisfaction, “this puts one in mind of old times up in the hill-country, with the niggers waiting to go at you with matchlock or knife. I didn’t think I was ever going to have the luck to see a bit of fighting again.”

Perry started, and Cyril’s face looked in the firelight as if it was flushed.

“Where’s the colonel?” he said quickly. “Be steady, Perry, old chap. There’s nothing to be frightened about. Don’t look as if anything was the matter. Come and find your father, and let’s go and speak to Diego and the other man.”

“But I can’t speak to them,” said Perry excitedly.

“Never mind, I will. Come along.”

“And suppose they shoot at us,” whispered Perry, “with an arrow or blowpipe?”

“They’d better!” said Cyril grimly. “But they won’t do that. Come on.”

He walked on toward the fire, behind which the two Indians were crouched, apparently enjoying the warmth and the charqui they were munching; but they gazed furtively up at the two boys as they came up, and one of them started slightly as Cyril made a sudden stoop, but became impassive directly when the boy picked up two or three half-burned brands and threw them into the middle of the fire before holding his hands out to the flame.

“The waterfall makes it feel cold up here, and damp,” he said to the guide in his patois, and the man smiled as he spoke, and then pointed up a defile away above them as he replied.

“What does he say?” asked Perry.

“That the wind comes down that narrow rift from the snow, and it is that which makes it cold. I only half understand him.”

He turned laughingly to the guide, and said a few words to that effect, and the man laughed and nodded as he replied.

“Oh, what a big fib!” said Cyril merrily. “He says I speak his tongue beautifully.—Oh, there’s the colonel looking round at the mules. They’re having a beautiful feed here. Plenty of grass for the mules,” he said to the Indian, and the man nodded again, and said it was good.

The colonel said something very similar, as the boys strolled carelessly up, at a time when Perry felt as if he must run to his father, shouting: “Look out! Danger!”

“We must stay here two or three days, boys,” the colonel said. “The mules will revel in this grass and fresh water, and make up for their fasting lately.”

“I think not, sir,” said Cyril, speaking carelessly, and making believe to pat one of the mules, which turned sharply round and showed him its heels.

“What do you mean, sir?”

Cyril told him quickly; and as he spoke, the colonel’s hand twitched, and went involuntarily to his side, as if he were seeking a sword.

“Humph!” he ejaculated. Then quietly, and looking at the mules: “That’s right, lads; don’t make a sign. I daresay John Manning is right. He has eyes like a hawk, and he is true as steel. Well, I’m not surprised. I half expected it, though not quite so soon.”

“What shall we do then, father?” said Perry anxiously. “Go back?”

“Englishmen don’t go back, Perry,” said his father gravely. “They would not have colonised the whole world if they did. No, boy, we are going on, and I don’t think there is anything to fear. These people are all joined together to watch every stranger who comes into their country, in dread lest they should be in search of the Incas’ treasures, and they would be ready to fight in defence.”

“And kill us, father,” said Perry, with his lips paling in the firelight.

“If we let them, boy. But we are well-armed, John Manning and I, and know how to use our weapons if it should come to a struggle, which I doubt.”

“Then you have come in search of something, sir! I knew it,” cried Cyril.

“Yes, I have come in search of something, boy, and I mean to find it and take it away out of the country in spite of all their watchfulness and care. Now, then, what do you say to that? Are you afraid, and do you want to get back?”

“I don’t know, sir,” said Cyril quietly. “Yes, I do. I can’t help feeling a bit frightened like. I don’t want to, but I do.”

“And you wish to go back? For I warn you I am going on in spite of all obstacles.”

“No, I don’t,” said Cyril quietly. “I shall go with you. I’m not going to leave Perry in the lurch.”

“There’s a coward for you, Perry, my boy,” said the colonel, laughing. “You must be a very good sort of a fellow to have made a friend like that; one who risks his father’s anger to come with you, and who is now ready to run more risks for your sake.”

“I’m afraid it isn’t that, sir,” said Cyril frankly. “I wanted to come because I thought it was going to be a great treat.”

“There, say no more now. Listen to me. I shall take it for granted that we have spies in the camp, and that, consequent upon their communication to the men of the llama caravan, some of that party are following us. Of course the poor fellows consider that they are performing a religious duty, so I shall not charge them with their action. They will go on watching us till they find I have done something which calls for immediate action. Till then we are safe.”

“Then you will not do anything, sir?” said Cyril, looking quite aghast.

“Oh yes, I shall be upon my guard. From now there will be watch set every night in camp, and we shall sleep with our arms charged and ready for action at a moment’s notice.”

“Yes,” said Cyril, with a sigh of satisfaction.

“You can handle a gun, Cyril?”

“Yes, sir, after a fashion. I have often been up in the hills with my father, shooting.”

“That will do,” said the colonel. “Now let’s go and have a look at the falls before setting watch and going to our blankets. Tell the men to keep up a pretty good fire, Cyril.”

He led the way to where the Indians were seated as he spoke, and nodded to them smilingly as Cyril gave his orders; and then, as the men quickly obeyed them, the colonel led the way to the edge of a cliff! From here they could see the large body of water come gliding down in a curve from far away up in the darkness, to gleam in the firelight as it passed them, and then dive down into the deeper darkness below.

“An awful-looking place, boys, in the darkness,” said the colonel quietly. “There now, we’ll seek our blankets—at least you shall, for I shall take the first watch; John Manning will take the second.”

“Shall I sit up with you, father?” said Perry.

“No, my lad, we must husband our resources. Your turn will come to-morrow night. Remember what I said about the guns. Make no show, but have your ammunition ready for use at a moment’s notice. The Indians will see that, you may depend upon it, and act accordingly.”

Half an hour later the two boys were lying inside a little shelter formed of the mules’ packs and a wall-like mass of rock, listening to the roar of the falls, and watching the figure of the colonel standing gazing out into the night, as he rested his chin upon the barrel of his piece.

“I shan’t go to sleep to-night,” said Perry in a whisper.

“Oh yes, you will. I shall,” replied Cyril.

Just then John Manning came close up, with his gun in his hand.

“Good-night, gentlemen,” he said. “Colonel says I’m to come and lie in the shelter here. Don’t kick in the night, please, because I’m going to be at your feet. I had a messmate once out in India, who, when we were in barracks, used to sleep like a lamb, but so sure as we were on the march and had to share a tent, which meant he slept in his boots, you might just as well have gone to sleep with a pack of commissariat mules, for the way in which he’d let go with his heels was a wonder. Good-night, gentlemen, good-night.”

Chapter Eleven.The Peril Thickens.There must have been something wonderfully lulling in the roar of that fall, and a feeling of great confidence in the fact that the colonel would keep watch over them half the night, and John Manning, stern, tried, old soldier that he was, for the second half; for, though the boys lay there, fully convinced that they would not be able to sleep, and had visions of knife-armed Indians creeping toward them through the darkness, they soon dropped off, and rested uninterruptedly for eight hours, when they sprang up at a touch from John Manning.“If you gentlemen will relieve guard,” he said quietly, “I’ll see about breakfast.”Soon after, as if nothing whatever had happened, they all sat down to a hearty meal, and that over, once more started upon their journey through the mountains; the Indians seeming more willing, and at the suggestion that the mules should rest for a day or two in that luxuriant pasturage, eagerly assuring the colonel, through Cyril, that for days to come they would find plenty, and that the road would be easier.On hearing this, the colonel decided to go on, and soon found that the guide’s words were correct; for, during the next six days, they traversed smiling valleys, with grass and trees in abundance. Snowcapped hills rose high above them; but where they journeyed, they were in a beautiful temperate climate, with rich soil and abundance of flowers.This part of their journey was delightful; for the way along the passes was easy, and the colonel, who was a dead shot, several times over added to their larder with his gun.But they went on in no false security; for several times over they passed Indians, and were made fully aware of the fact that every mile they took was carefully watched, and that the leader of the expedition inspected no mountain shelf, cave, or patch of dwarf forest, without his acts being duly noted, though in no observant way.Diego proved to be a perfect guide; and, making no objections now, he led them steadily on in a way which would have disarmed suspicion with some people; but the colonel was quietly on the alert, and went on examining plant, flower, and tree, at one time with all the patient care of a botanist; and at another time, when they were climbing some rugged shelf in a ravine, letting no mineral escape his observation.And all the while the little party, though they made no sign, were perfectly well aware that they were being watched.“Strikes me that when we’ve got it, they won’t let us take a simple lump of gold out of the place, Master Cyril.”“No,” said the boy drily.“But I mean some of the precious stones, Master Perry. I shall have them.”“How?”“Swaller ’em, sir, if I can manage it without being seen. Why, do you know I went down by that bit o’ stream, last night, to bathe my feet, and before I got there, I stopped short and sneezed, and before I had time to say, ‘Bless me!’ there was an Indian’s head popped up over a bush, and another from behind a stone, to see what was the matter.”“Yes; I’ve noticed something of the kind,” said Cyril thoughtfully. “But I shouldn’t advise you to swallow any stones you find.”“Why, sir?”“Because they won’t agree with you.”“They agree with chickens,” said Manning, grinning, “and make their hard food digest, so I don’t see why they shouldn’t agree with me, sir. But, I say, Master Perry, let it out now; I’m sure you’d feel a deal happier if you told us what the colonel’s hunting for.”“I shall not tell you, because I don’t know. My father knows best about what he’s doing, I daresay. We thought, the other day, that we were in great danger; but you saw how quietly he took it, and how it all came to nothing.”“Perhaps the time has not come yet,” said Cyril rather seriously; “don’t let’s talk too soon.”No more was said then; but a few days later, the others thought of how prophetic the boy’s words had proved.But it was not until another fortnight had passed, and a day had arrived when, after journeying through a deep defile of a similar character to that which they had threaded upon the day when they met the llama caravan, they reached a point upon the slope of a huge mountain, from which they looked down over a glorious picture of hill and dale, verdant forest and wide-reaching plain, with, in two places, thin serpentine threads of water glistening in the sun.“At last,” said the colonel gravely. “It has been a long journey, boys, but we have reached the point I sought.”Cyril looked at him inquiringly; and Perry, who felt that he was expected to speak, said: “Yes; it’s very grand. How different to being in amongst the mountains!”“Yes, boy; we can breathe out here. Did you notice the water in the last two streams we passed?”“Yes; very beautiful with the overhanging trees, father.”“Yes; but the way they ran?”“No,” said Perry.“Look yonder, then,” said the colonel, pointing to a little rivulet which leaped out from between two masses of rock. “Where is that going?”“Into another stream, I suppose,” said Perry, “and that will run into another, and so on, till they all together form a big river, and run into the ocean.”“Yes; but what ocean, my boy? Don’t you see that we have crossed the watershed? Till the last day or two, all the streams we passed have been going constantly west into the Pacific. Now we have passed through the mountains, and found the eastern slope, where all run down to make the vast rivers which flow into the Atlantic.”“I should not have known,” said Perry.“Nor I,” said Cyril; “but its much fresher out here.”“Yes, we have left the dry region behind, to get into the land of rains and many waters. We saw no such forests as those which are spread before us even at this height.”“Is this high, sir?” asked Cyril.“Yes, my lad, about nine thousand feet.”“And shall we go back the same way?” asked Perry.“Possibly, my lad, but more probably not. It depends upon the way the Indians treat us.”“But we can never find our way back any other way,” cried Cyril. “Don’t think about it. We should be lost up here in these mountains.”“No, because we have a guide with us, my boy, and if I can help it, he will not leave us till he has seen us safely back.”Cyril said nothing, but the thought occurred to him:“Suppose we wake some fine morning, and the guides are gone.”They camped that night on the slope of the hill, and till it was growing dark, the colonel busied himself with his glass, carefully, as it seemed to the boys, inspecting the forest in every direction, and ending by closing the telescope with a satisfied smile, which was not lost upon Cyril.“He has found it,” he said to Perry, as soon as they were alone.“Found what?”“What he has come after.”Perry looked at him wonderingly.“You have found out?” he said.“No, I wish I had; but didn’t you see how pleased he seemed when he came back to supper, and said that we should camp here for a few days?”“Yes, I noticed that.”“Well, doesn’t it mean that we have got to the spot at last that he was in search of?”Perry shook his head.“Well, you see if we don’t find out something to-morrow.”Perry had almost forgotten his companion’s words at breakfast-time the next morning, but they came to his memory as soon as they had done, for the colonel said:“Now, boys, we’ll make a little expedition along the edge of the forest here this morning. Cyril, tell the men to mind the mules don’t stray too far, and keep up the fire.”John Manning looked sharply at the colonel, as much as to say: “Then you mean me to come also, sir?”“Yes, I want you to carry spare ammunition and the game-bag. I hope we shall have some sport along here,” said the colonel, who had caught the old soldier’s inquiring gaze.Half an hour later, they were tramping along the mountain-slope, through open woods that were quite park-like, and gave them glimpses of the far-spreading region below, all vested in a delicate bluish mist, while where they journeyed all was brilliant sunshine. There was a delicious feeling of spring in the air, for though the sun was hot, the air was crisp and cool, making the task of walking easy, and giving the travellers a feeling of elasticity, wanting when passing through the gloomy gorges of the huge mountain-chain.The colonel led off as if he were quite accustomed to the place, though there was no sign of a track, and before they had gone far, Perry whispered a hope that they would not lose their way.“No fear,” said Cyril. “We are keeping the mountains on our left, and we must keep them on our right as we go back. We have only to keep along till we strike the stream, and follow it up or down till we reach our fire. I daresay we shall see it long before we are near, by the smoke.”They had gone quite a couple of miles without seeing any trace of game, the woods being wonderfully silent. The colonel was on in front, and the two boys about twenty yards behind, each bearing a gun, when Perry suddenly paused.“Where’s John Manning?” he said. “I thought he was close up.”They waited, and then whistled several times, but there was no response, and then Cyril ran back to where the land was more open, but still there was no sign; and he was about to run forward again, and signal to the colonel to stop, when the missing man suddenly appeared with his piece at the trail, running hard, but keeping himself bent down, to avoid being seen.“What’s the matter?” said Cyril, as the old soldier came up. “Seen a deer?”“No, sir; I only had a suspicion.”“What of?”“Struck me that Master Diego would come after us to see which way we went.”“Well?”“Yes, I hung back to watch, and he’s half a mile behind, tracking us by our footmarks, with his head down, or else he’d have seen me.”“Come on, and tell the colonel.”They hurried forward, and joined Perry, waiting for them anxiously.“At last,” he said excitedly. “Did you see?”“See what?”“Those Indians.”“No. Where?” said Cyril.“On both sides, among the trees. They are watching us. What ought we to do?”“Rearguard closes up on the main body,” said John Manning quickly. “Single file, and at the double. Now, sir, you head the advance. March.”Cyril sprang forward to overtake the colonel, looking down as he trotted forward in search of trampled-down grass and broken twigs; but from the first he saw nothing, neither could he hear a sound, and after some minutes’ progress, he pulled up short, and breathing hard.“We had better spread out now,” he said, “or we shall overlook him.”“Didn’t you see which way he went?” said John Manning.“Out this way somewhere,” said Perry. “He can’t be far away.”“Enemy closing in,” said the old soldier in a low voice. “Forward, my lads. We must find him now.”Those last words sent a chill through Cyril, who sprang forward again, and then nearly uttered a shout; for, about fifty yards in front, he caught sight of the colonel standing half hidden by the thick growth at the edge of a clearing, where some dozen or so of men were busy apparently cutting wood. Beyond them were two rough huts thatched with boughs, and piled up in little stacks were fagots of the wood which the men had cut down.They were so busy over their task, that they had not noticed the presence of the colonel, neither did they hear the approaching footsteps as they worked on. But the colonel did, and turned and hurried back to meet the boys, holding up his hand to command silence. His eyes were flashing with satisfaction as they came up, and he had a branch of one of the trees about them in his hand.“We thought we had lost you,” said Perry excitedly. “What’s that?”“The magic tree I have come all these thousands of miles to seek, boy, and now—”“Will you cast your eye this way, sir?” said John Manning, in a hoarse low voice of warning. “Indians all around. Do it mean mischief, or are they only friends?”He gave his head a backward wag as he spoke, and as Cyril looked excitedly in the indicated direction, he saw that which made him thrust his hand into his pouch to count the cartridges; for if the coming Indians meant offence, they as travellers were in mortal peril of losing their lives.

There must have been something wonderfully lulling in the roar of that fall, and a feeling of great confidence in the fact that the colonel would keep watch over them half the night, and John Manning, stern, tried, old soldier that he was, for the second half; for, though the boys lay there, fully convinced that they would not be able to sleep, and had visions of knife-armed Indians creeping toward them through the darkness, they soon dropped off, and rested uninterruptedly for eight hours, when they sprang up at a touch from John Manning.

“If you gentlemen will relieve guard,” he said quietly, “I’ll see about breakfast.”

Soon after, as if nothing whatever had happened, they all sat down to a hearty meal, and that over, once more started upon their journey through the mountains; the Indians seeming more willing, and at the suggestion that the mules should rest for a day or two in that luxuriant pasturage, eagerly assuring the colonel, through Cyril, that for days to come they would find plenty, and that the road would be easier.

On hearing this, the colonel decided to go on, and soon found that the guide’s words were correct; for, during the next six days, they traversed smiling valleys, with grass and trees in abundance. Snowcapped hills rose high above them; but where they journeyed, they were in a beautiful temperate climate, with rich soil and abundance of flowers.

This part of their journey was delightful; for the way along the passes was easy, and the colonel, who was a dead shot, several times over added to their larder with his gun.

But they went on in no false security; for several times over they passed Indians, and were made fully aware of the fact that every mile they took was carefully watched, and that the leader of the expedition inspected no mountain shelf, cave, or patch of dwarf forest, without his acts being duly noted, though in no observant way.

Diego proved to be a perfect guide; and, making no objections now, he led them steadily on in a way which would have disarmed suspicion with some people; but the colonel was quietly on the alert, and went on examining plant, flower, and tree, at one time with all the patient care of a botanist; and at another time, when they were climbing some rugged shelf in a ravine, letting no mineral escape his observation.

And all the while the little party, though they made no sign, were perfectly well aware that they were being watched.

“Strikes me that when we’ve got it, they won’t let us take a simple lump of gold out of the place, Master Cyril.”

“No,” said the boy drily.

“But I mean some of the precious stones, Master Perry. I shall have them.”

“How?”

“Swaller ’em, sir, if I can manage it without being seen. Why, do you know I went down by that bit o’ stream, last night, to bathe my feet, and before I got there, I stopped short and sneezed, and before I had time to say, ‘Bless me!’ there was an Indian’s head popped up over a bush, and another from behind a stone, to see what was the matter.”

“Yes; I’ve noticed something of the kind,” said Cyril thoughtfully. “But I shouldn’t advise you to swallow any stones you find.”

“Why, sir?”

“Because they won’t agree with you.”

“They agree with chickens,” said Manning, grinning, “and make their hard food digest, so I don’t see why they shouldn’t agree with me, sir. But, I say, Master Perry, let it out now; I’m sure you’d feel a deal happier if you told us what the colonel’s hunting for.”

“I shall not tell you, because I don’t know. My father knows best about what he’s doing, I daresay. We thought, the other day, that we were in great danger; but you saw how quietly he took it, and how it all came to nothing.”

“Perhaps the time has not come yet,” said Cyril rather seriously; “don’t let’s talk too soon.”

No more was said then; but a few days later, the others thought of how prophetic the boy’s words had proved.

But it was not until another fortnight had passed, and a day had arrived when, after journeying through a deep defile of a similar character to that which they had threaded upon the day when they met the llama caravan, they reached a point upon the slope of a huge mountain, from which they looked down over a glorious picture of hill and dale, verdant forest and wide-reaching plain, with, in two places, thin serpentine threads of water glistening in the sun.

“At last,” said the colonel gravely. “It has been a long journey, boys, but we have reached the point I sought.”

Cyril looked at him inquiringly; and Perry, who felt that he was expected to speak, said: “Yes; it’s very grand. How different to being in amongst the mountains!”

“Yes, boy; we can breathe out here. Did you notice the water in the last two streams we passed?”

“Yes; very beautiful with the overhanging trees, father.”

“Yes; but the way they ran?”

“No,” said Perry.

“Look yonder, then,” said the colonel, pointing to a little rivulet which leaped out from between two masses of rock. “Where is that going?”

“Into another stream, I suppose,” said Perry, “and that will run into another, and so on, till they all together form a big river, and run into the ocean.”

“Yes; but what ocean, my boy? Don’t you see that we have crossed the watershed? Till the last day or two, all the streams we passed have been going constantly west into the Pacific. Now we have passed through the mountains, and found the eastern slope, where all run down to make the vast rivers which flow into the Atlantic.”

“I should not have known,” said Perry.

“Nor I,” said Cyril; “but its much fresher out here.”

“Yes, we have left the dry region behind, to get into the land of rains and many waters. We saw no such forests as those which are spread before us even at this height.”

“Is this high, sir?” asked Cyril.

“Yes, my lad, about nine thousand feet.”

“And shall we go back the same way?” asked Perry.

“Possibly, my lad, but more probably not. It depends upon the way the Indians treat us.”

“But we can never find our way back any other way,” cried Cyril. “Don’t think about it. We should be lost up here in these mountains.”

“No, because we have a guide with us, my boy, and if I can help it, he will not leave us till he has seen us safely back.”

Cyril said nothing, but the thought occurred to him:

“Suppose we wake some fine morning, and the guides are gone.”

They camped that night on the slope of the hill, and till it was growing dark, the colonel busied himself with his glass, carefully, as it seemed to the boys, inspecting the forest in every direction, and ending by closing the telescope with a satisfied smile, which was not lost upon Cyril.

“He has found it,” he said to Perry, as soon as they were alone.

“Found what?”

“What he has come after.”

Perry looked at him wonderingly.

“You have found out?” he said.

“No, I wish I had; but didn’t you see how pleased he seemed when he came back to supper, and said that we should camp here for a few days?”

“Yes, I noticed that.”

“Well, doesn’t it mean that we have got to the spot at last that he was in search of?”

Perry shook his head.

“Well, you see if we don’t find out something to-morrow.”

Perry had almost forgotten his companion’s words at breakfast-time the next morning, but they came to his memory as soon as they had done, for the colonel said:

“Now, boys, we’ll make a little expedition along the edge of the forest here this morning. Cyril, tell the men to mind the mules don’t stray too far, and keep up the fire.”

John Manning looked sharply at the colonel, as much as to say: “Then you mean me to come also, sir?”

“Yes, I want you to carry spare ammunition and the game-bag. I hope we shall have some sport along here,” said the colonel, who had caught the old soldier’s inquiring gaze.

Half an hour later, they were tramping along the mountain-slope, through open woods that were quite park-like, and gave them glimpses of the far-spreading region below, all vested in a delicate bluish mist, while where they journeyed all was brilliant sunshine. There was a delicious feeling of spring in the air, for though the sun was hot, the air was crisp and cool, making the task of walking easy, and giving the travellers a feeling of elasticity, wanting when passing through the gloomy gorges of the huge mountain-chain.

The colonel led off as if he were quite accustomed to the place, though there was no sign of a track, and before they had gone far, Perry whispered a hope that they would not lose their way.

“No fear,” said Cyril. “We are keeping the mountains on our left, and we must keep them on our right as we go back. We have only to keep along till we strike the stream, and follow it up or down till we reach our fire. I daresay we shall see it long before we are near, by the smoke.”

They had gone quite a couple of miles without seeing any trace of game, the woods being wonderfully silent. The colonel was on in front, and the two boys about twenty yards behind, each bearing a gun, when Perry suddenly paused.

“Where’s John Manning?” he said. “I thought he was close up.”

They waited, and then whistled several times, but there was no response, and then Cyril ran back to where the land was more open, but still there was no sign; and he was about to run forward again, and signal to the colonel to stop, when the missing man suddenly appeared with his piece at the trail, running hard, but keeping himself bent down, to avoid being seen.

“What’s the matter?” said Cyril, as the old soldier came up. “Seen a deer?”

“No, sir; I only had a suspicion.”

“What of?”

“Struck me that Master Diego would come after us to see which way we went.”

“Well?”

“Yes, I hung back to watch, and he’s half a mile behind, tracking us by our footmarks, with his head down, or else he’d have seen me.”

“Come on, and tell the colonel.”

They hurried forward, and joined Perry, waiting for them anxiously.

“At last,” he said excitedly. “Did you see?”

“See what?”

“Those Indians.”

“No. Where?” said Cyril.

“On both sides, among the trees. They are watching us. What ought we to do?”

“Rearguard closes up on the main body,” said John Manning quickly. “Single file, and at the double. Now, sir, you head the advance. March.”

Cyril sprang forward to overtake the colonel, looking down as he trotted forward in search of trampled-down grass and broken twigs; but from the first he saw nothing, neither could he hear a sound, and after some minutes’ progress, he pulled up short, and breathing hard.

“We had better spread out now,” he said, “or we shall overlook him.”

“Didn’t you see which way he went?” said John Manning.

“Out this way somewhere,” said Perry. “He can’t be far away.”

“Enemy closing in,” said the old soldier in a low voice. “Forward, my lads. We must find him now.”

Those last words sent a chill through Cyril, who sprang forward again, and then nearly uttered a shout; for, about fifty yards in front, he caught sight of the colonel standing half hidden by the thick growth at the edge of a clearing, where some dozen or so of men were busy apparently cutting wood. Beyond them were two rough huts thatched with boughs, and piled up in little stacks were fagots of the wood which the men had cut down.

They were so busy over their task, that they had not noticed the presence of the colonel, neither did they hear the approaching footsteps as they worked on. But the colonel did, and turned and hurried back to meet the boys, holding up his hand to command silence. His eyes were flashing with satisfaction as they came up, and he had a branch of one of the trees about them in his hand.

“We thought we had lost you,” said Perry excitedly. “What’s that?”

“The magic tree I have come all these thousands of miles to seek, boy, and now—”

“Will you cast your eye this way, sir?” said John Manning, in a hoarse low voice of warning. “Indians all around. Do it mean mischief, or are they only friends?”

He gave his head a backward wag as he spoke, and as Cyril looked excitedly in the indicated direction, he saw that which made him thrust his hand into his pouch to count the cartridges; for if the coming Indians meant offence, they as travellers were in mortal peril of losing their lives.

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