Chapter Twelve.At Bay.To have attempted to escape, the colonel said, would be madness, for it would have suggested fear of the approaching Indians, and made them think at once that the visit to their secluded haunts meant no good to them; so throwing his piece into the hollow of his left arm, and bidding the others do as he did, Colonel Campion took a few steps forward to meet the Indians, and held out his hand.This had the effect of making them halt a few yards from them, and keeping their faces fixed upon the English party, they talked rapidly among themselves.At that moment Cyril caught sight of Diego hanging back among the men in the rear.“There’s our guide, sir,” he said hurriedly. “Shall I call him?”“He there?” said the colonel sharply. “Yes, call him. No: go through them, and fetch him, boy.”Cyril hesitated for a moment or two, and his heart beat high; but the order had been given in true military style, and it had its influence. The boy felt that he would be backed up by the colonel in all he did, and throwing his gun over his right shoulder, he stepped boldly forward, finding that the white was master even here; for the Indians, taken by surprise at his firmness, parted at once to let him pass, and then Cyril’s pulses beat a little more rapidly, for the men closed up again, shutting him off from his friends.The boy felt this, but he knew that he must not show fear, and without a moment’s hesitation, he walked on up to where Diego stood half hidden behind a couple of the Indians, and clapping his hand upon the man’s shoulder, “Come,” he said, “the colonel wants you.”The guide shrank at Cyril’s touch, and looked at his fellows for support, but no one stirred, and uttering a low sigh, the man allowed himself to be marched away to where the colonel stood, the Indians giving way on either side, and then closing up again in silence, and without the slightest show of menace.For to them it was as if a superior being had calmly passed among them and fetched one, each man feeling relieved that he was not the one selected, and that, had he been, he would have felt compelled to go.“Well done, British boy,” said the colonel to Cyril, as he stopped before him with the guide, who looked of a curious dusky colour now; his eyes showing the whites around the iris, and his lips seeming parched as he moistened them hastily with his tongue from time to time.“Now then,” continued the colonel sharply, as if he were addressing a delegate from a mutinous company of his old regiment, “why have you brought all these men after me, sir?—Interpret quickly, Cyril.”This was done, and the man’s voice trembled as he answered.“He says they made him come, sir,” said Cyril.“Which is a lie,” cried John Manning; “for he has been dodging us all the time.”“Silence there. ’Tention!” cried the colonel harshly, and the old soldier drew himself up smartly, lowered and then shouldered arms, just as if he had been on parade.It was a trifle, but it had its effect upon the Indians, giving them a great idea of the importance of the colonel, who stood there, erect and stern, issuing his orders; and in their eyes he was a great white chief, if not a king.“Now,” he said sharply, “let that boy ask him what these people want.”Cyril interpreted and obtained his answer, the peril of their position sharpening the boy’s faculties, and making him snatch at words of which he was in doubt.“They have come,” said Cyril, “to see why you are here. They say you have no right to come amongst the kina gatherers, and that you must go back to the coast at once.”“Indeed!” said the colonel haughtily. “We shall see about that. Tell them, boy, that I am the English chief of a great white queen; that I have come into this country to examine it and its products, and that I will shoot dead with this piece the first man who dares to interfere with me and mine.”“Hear, hear!” growled John Manning.“Silence in the ranks,” cried the colonel sharply; while, gaining confidence, Cyril’s voice partook somewhat of his leader’s imperious command, as he repeated the words as loudly as he could, so that all might hear.There was a low fierce murmur from the little crowd, which was now augmented by the bark peelers, who closed the English party up from the rear.“What do they say?” cried the colonel, taking a step forward, and cocking his piece at the same moment.“That they will make us prisoners, sir,” said Cyril.“Who dared say that?” roared the colonel, and taking another step forward, he looked fiercely round, with the result that to a man the Indians bent their heads before him, and not one dared look him in the face.“Hah!” he ejaculated, “that is better. Now tell them I wish to see the kina gathered and prepared.”Cyril gave the interpretation of his words, and Diego and an old Indian came humbly forward and laid down their bows and arrows at his feet.The colonel took a step and planted his foot upon the weapons. Then drawing back, he pointed down.“Pick them up!” he said sternly in English, and repeated the words in Spanish, when a low murmur of satisfaction arose, and the men stooped, lifted their weapons, and then making deprecating signs, they led the way into the clearing where the cinchona trees had been cut down, and the people had been busy collecting and drying the bark.The colonel went on first, and Cyril and John Manning next, followed by Perry and Diego.“It does one good, Master Cyril,” whispered John Manning, “it does one good again, my lad. That’s the sort of man the colonel is. Fit for a king, every inch of him. There ain’t many men as would have faced a body of savage Indians with their bows and arrows like that. He’s the right sort of stuff, ain’t he? and yet they let him leave the army and go on half-pay.”“Yes, but do you think there will be any treachery?” replied Cyril.“No, sir, I don’t, so long as we show ’em we mean to keep the upper hand of ’em. They daren’t. They know the colonel meant what he said, and felt that every word he said was true, and that a big chief had come among ’em.”“Yes, I could see that,” said Cyril.“My word, he was like a lion among a lot o’ them big, long-necked sheep, sir; and you did your part of it splendidly.”“I did?” said Cyril, looking at the man in wonder.“Yes, you, sir. I only wish our Master Perry would speak up as bold.”“Why, John Manning,” said Cyril, half laughing, “if you only knew how I felt.”“I do, sir.”“Not you, or you would not talk like that.”“I tell you I do, sir. You felt just as I did first time I went into action, and heard the bullets go whizzing by like bees in the air, and saw some of them sting the poor fellows, who kept on dropping here and there, many of ’em never to get up again. I thought I was in a terrible fright, and that I was such a miserable coward I ought to be drummed out of the regiment; but it couldn’t have been fright, only not being used to it; and I couldn’t have been a coward, because I was in the front rank all the time, close alongside of your father; and when we’d charged and driven the enemy flying, the colonel clapped me on the shoulder and said he’d never seen a braver bit of work in his life, and of course he ought to know.”“I did feel horribly frightened, though,” said Cyril.“Thought you did, sir, that was all. You couldn’t have done it better.”“I don’t know,” said the boy, smiling. “Suppose the Indians had found me out?”“Found you out, sir? Bah! If it comes to the worst, they’ll find out you can fight as well as talk. Now, just look here, sir; didn’t you ever have a set to at school, when you were at home in England?”“Yes, two or three.”“And didn’t you feel shimmery-whimmery before you began?”“Yes.”“And as soon as you were hurt, forgot all that, and went in and whipped.”“Well, yes, I suppose so.”“Of course you did, sir. That’s human nature, that is. But, I say, Mr Cyril, sir, what does it all mean? Why has the colonel come out here? He can’t have come just to see people cut down a few trees and peel off the bark.”“I begin to think he has.”“But I could have taken him down in Surrey, sir, and showed him into woods where they were doing all that to the oak trees, without coming out here, or running any risks of getting an arrow sent through you, just as if you was a chicken got ready to roast.”“I don’t quite understand it yet,” said Cyril; “but don’t talk any more now. Look, look! what is he going to do?”
To have attempted to escape, the colonel said, would be madness, for it would have suggested fear of the approaching Indians, and made them think at once that the visit to their secluded haunts meant no good to them; so throwing his piece into the hollow of his left arm, and bidding the others do as he did, Colonel Campion took a few steps forward to meet the Indians, and held out his hand.
This had the effect of making them halt a few yards from them, and keeping their faces fixed upon the English party, they talked rapidly among themselves.
At that moment Cyril caught sight of Diego hanging back among the men in the rear.
“There’s our guide, sir,” he said hurriedly. “Shall I call him?”
“He there?” said the colonel sharply. “Yes, call him. No: go through them, and fetch him, boy.”
Cyril hesitated for a moment or two, and his heart beat high; but the order had been given in true military style, and it had its influence. The boy felt that he would be backed up by the colonel in all he did, and throwing his gun over his right shoulder, he stepped boldly forward, finding that the white was master even here; for the Indians, taken by surprise at his firmness, parted at once to let him pass, and then Cyril’s pulses beat a little more rapidly, for the men closed up again, shutting him off from his friends.
The boy felt this, but he knew that he must not show fear, and without a moment’s hesitation, he walked on up to where Diego stood half hidden behind a couple of the Indians, and clapping his hand upon the man’s shoulder, “Come,” he said, “the colonel wants you.”
The guide shrank at Cyril’s touch, and looked at his fellows for support, but no one stirred, and uttering a low sigh, the man allowed himself to be marched away to where the colonel stood, the Indians giving way on either side, and then closing up again in silence, and without the slightest show of menace.
For to them it was as if a superior being had calmly passed among them and fetched one, each man feeling relieved that he was not the one selected, and that, had he been, he would have felt compelled to go.
“Well done, British boy,” said the colonel to Cyril, as he stopped before him with the guide, who looked of a curious dusky colour now; his eyes showing the whites around the iris, and his lips seeming parched as he moistened them hastily with his tongue from time to time.
“Now then,” continued the colonel sharply, as if he were addressing a delegate from a mutinous company of his old regiment, “why have you brought all these men after me, sir?—Interpret quickly, Cyril.”
This was done, and the man’s voice trembled as he answered.
“He says they made him come, sir,” said Cyril.
“Which is a lie,” cried John Manning; “for he has been dodging us all the time.”
“Silence there. ’Tention!” cried the colonel harshly, and the old soldier drew himself up smartly, lowered and then shouldered arms, just as if he had been on parade.
It was a trifle, but it had its effect upon the Indians, giving them a great idea of the importance of the colonel, who stood there, erect and stern, issuing his orders; and in their eyes he was a great white chief, if not a king.
“Now,” he said sharply, “let that boy ask him what these people want.”
Cyril interpreted and obtained his answer, the peril of their position sharpening the boy’s faculties, and making him snatch at words of which he was in doubt.
“They have come,” said Cyril, “to see why you are here. They say you have no right to come amongst the kina gatherers, and that you must go back to the coast at once.”
“Indeed!” said the colonel haughtily. “We shall see about that. Tell them, boy, that I am the English chief of a great white queen; that I have come into this country to examine it and its products, and that I will shoot dead with this piece the first man who dares to interfere with me and mine.”
“Hear, hear!” growled John Manning.
“Silence in the ranks,” cried the colonel sharply; while, gaining confidence, Cyril’s voice partook somewhat of his leader’s imperious command, as he repeated the words as loudly as he could, so that all might hear.
There was a low fierce murmur from the little crowd, which was now augmented by the bark peelers, who closed the English party up from the rear.
“What do they say?” cried the colonel, taking a step forward, and cocking his piece at the same moment.
“That they will make us prisoners, sir,” said Cyril.
“Who dared say that?” roared the colonel, and taking another step forward, he looked fiercely round, with the result that to a man the Indians bent their heads before him, and not one dared look him in the face.
“Hah!” he ejaculated, “that is better. Now tell them I wish to see the kina gathered and prepared.”
Cyril gave the interpretation of his words, and Diego and an old Indian came humbly forward and laid down their bows and arrows at his feet.
The colonel took a step and planted his foot upon the weapons. Then drawing back, he pointed down.
“Pick them up!” he said sternly in English, and repeated the words in Spanish, when a low murmur of satisfaction arose, and the men stooped, lifted their weapons, and then making deprecating signs, they led the way into the clearing where the cinchona trees had been cut down, and the people had been busy collecting and drying the bark.
The colonel went on first, and Cyril and John Manning next, followed by Perry and Diego.
“It does one good, Master Cyril,” whispered John Manning, “it does one good again, my lad. That’s the sort of man the colonel is. Fit for a king, every inch of him. There ain’t many men as would have faced a body of savage Indians with their bows and arrows like that. He’s the right sort of stuff, ain’t he? and yet they let him leave the army and go on half-pay.”
“Yes, but do you think there will be any treachery?” replied Cyril.
“No, sir, I don’t, so long as we show ’em we mean to keep the upper hand of ’em. They daren’t. They know the colonel meant what he said, and felt that every word he said was true, and that a big chief had come among ’em.”
“Yes, I could see that,” said Cyril.
“My word, he was like a lion among a lot o’ them big, long-necked sheep, sir; and you did your part of it splendidly.”
“I did?” said Cyril, looking at the man in wonder.
“Yes, you, sir. I only wish our Master Perry would speak up as bold.”
“Why, John Manning,” said Cyril, half laughing, “if you only knew how I felt.”
“I do, sir.”
“Not you, or you would not talk like that.”
“I tell you I do, sir. You felt just as I did first time I went into action, and heard the bullets go whizzing by like bees in the air, and saw some of them sting the poor fellows, who kept on dropping here and there, many of ’em never to get up again. I thought I was in a terrible fright, and that I was such a miserable coward I ought to be drummed out of the regiment; but it couldn’t have been fright, only not being used to it; and I couldn’t have been a coward, because I was in the front rank all the time, close alongside of your father; and when we’d charged and driven the enemy flying, the colonel clapped me on the shoulder and said he’d never seen a braver bit of work in his life, and of course he ought to know.”
“I did feel horribly frightened, though,” said Cyril.
“Thought you did, sir, that was all. You couldn’t have done it better.”
“I don’t know,” said the boy, smiling. “Suppose the Indians had found me out?”
“Found you out, sir? Bah! If it comes to the worst, they’ll find out you can fight as well as talk. Now, just look here, sir; didn’t you ever have a set to at school, when you were at home in England?”
“Yes, two or three.”
“And didn’t you feel shimmery-whimmery before you began?”
“Yes.”
“And as soon as you were hurt, forgot all that, and went in and whipped.”
“Well, yes, I suppose so.”
“Of course you did, sir. That’s human nature, that is. But, I say, Mr Cyril, sir, what does it all mean? Why has the colonel come out here? He can’t have come just to see people cut down a few trees and peel off the bark.”
“I begin to think he has.”
“But I could have taken him down in Surrey, sir, and showed him into woods where they were doing all that to the oak trees, without coming out here, or running any risks of getting an arrow sent through you, just as if you was a chicken got ready to roast.”
“I don’t quite understand it yet,” said Cyril; “but don’t talk any more now. Look, look! what is he going to do?”
Chapter Thirteen.In Treasure Land.They were by this time close up in front of the huts of the bark gatherers, when all at once one of the huge condors came swooping along overhead, looking gigantic up against the sky. And then it was as if a sudden idea had struck the colonel, who raised his piece, took aim, lowered it, and hesitated; for the huge bird was at a great distance, and the people looked at him wonderingly. The next moment his rifle was at his shoulder again, there was the flash and puff of white smoke, the sharp crack, and the rumbling echoing roar in the mountains, as the condor was seen to swerve and then dart straight upward.“Missed!” muttered John Manning, “but he felt the bullet.”“Hit!” cried Cyril excitedly, for all at once the bird’s wings closed, and it fell over and over and then dropped like a stone, crashing in among the trees about a hundred yards away.The Indians had looked on at first incredulously, and several of them exchanged glances as the condor shot upward as if to escape unharmed; but the moment it turned over and began to fall, they set up a loud shout and rushed off to pick up the fallen bird, the whole crowd making for the dense patch of forest, and then walking back steadily, bearing the bird in triumph.“Rather a risky thing to do, boys,” said the colonel, reloading as he spoke. “If I had missed, I should have done harm to the position we have made in these people’s estimation. But I felt that I could hit the bird, and now they will believe that I may prove a terrible enemy in anger.”“Do it? Of course he could,” whispered John Manning. “I’ve known him take a rifle from one of our men lots of times, and pick off one of the Beloochees who was doing no end of mischief in our ranks up in the mountains.”By this time the Indians were back, looking full of excitement, and ready almost to worship the white chief who had come amongst them, with such power of life and death in his hands—powers beside which their bows and arrows and poison-dealing blowpipes seemed to them to be pitiful in the extreme. They laid the body of the great bird, which was stone-dead, at his feet, and then looked at him wonderingly, as if to say, “What next?”That shot had the effect which the colonel had intended to produce, for to a man the Indians felt the terrible power their white visitor held in his hand, and each felt that he might be the object of his vengeance if any attack was made.But Colonel Campion felt that the effect was only likely to be temporary, and that he must gain the object for which he had made his perilous journey as quickly as possible, and begin to return before the impression had worn off.Bidding Cyril then tell their guide that he should camp there for a few days, he sent the two men back for the mules, giving orders that they should take a couple of the Indians who had followed them to help.His manner carried the day, and the party of four departed.“I suppose it’s all right, Master Cyril,” whispered John Manning; “but I should have thought we’d ha’ done better by fortifying our own camp, and not running our heads right into the lion’s mouth; but the colonel knows best, and we’ve only got to obey orders.”Certainly that seemed to be the safest course to pursue—a bold one; so in this spirit, and as if the colonel felt that there was nothing whatever to be feared from the people, the mules and packages were brought up. A snugly-sheltered spot was selected, close to a spring which came gushing from the rock, and a fresh camp made; the party going and coming among the cinchona gatherers as if they were invited visitors; while the Indians themselves looked puzzled, and watched every action from a distance.That night, beside the fire, surrounded by the dense growth of the life-preserving trees he had sought, the colonel became more communicative.“You boys have, I daresay, canvassed why I undertook this expedition,” he said, “and, I suppose, took it for granted that I came in search of the gold supposed to be hidden by the Peruvians, to save it from the rapacity of the Spaniards.”“Yes, sir; that’s what I thought,” said Cyril.“Or else to find one of the di’mond walleys,” growled John Manning.“This is not the right direction for them, my man,” said the colonel, smiling. “You have to seek for them between the leaves of books. No, boys; I came to seek something of far greater value to my fellow-creatures than a buried store of yellow metal, which may or may not exist. It is possible that a number of the sacred vessels from some of the old temples may have been hidden by the priests, who, at their death, handed down the secret to their successors; but I think it is far more likely to be a fable. Still, the Indians believe in it, and if they knew that a discovery had been made, they would destroy the lives of the finders, sooner than that the gold should be taken out of the country.”“Then you have not come to find the gold, sir?” said Cyril; while Perry lay there upon his chest, resting his chin upon his hands, and elbows on the earth, gazing up in his father’s face.“No, boy; I have come, and I am running some risks, I know, to drag out into the light of day the wondrous medicine which has saved the lives of hundreds of thousands, and made it possible for men to exist in the fever-haunted countries spread around the globe.”“You mean quinine,” said Cyril. “Father always keeps a bottle in his desk.”“Yes, I mean quinine, the beautiful crystals obtained from the bark of these trees, boy; the medicine kept so jealously guarded here, the only place where it is produced, high up on the eastern slope of these mountains. I have come to seek it, and have found it far more easily than I expected: we are sitting and lying here right in the middle of one of the cinchona groves.”“But we can’t take away much, father, even if they will let us,” said Perry.“Wrong, boy. I hope that we shall be able to bear away, unseen, enough to stock the world, and to make the drug, which is a blessing to humanity, plentiful, instead of civilised Europe having to depend upon the supply from here—from this carefully-guarded place.”“You mean to take away some young trees,” said Cyril excitedly.“I should like to do so, but that is a doubtful way, my boy. The young trees would be awkward to carry, and transplanting trees often means killing them. We must try something better than that, though. I shall see what I can do in making one bundle, with the roots carefully bound up in damp moss.”“Yes, we might do that,” assented Cyril, “but we didn’t bring a spade.”“Let us find some tiny trees, and we’ll do without a spade,” said the colonel quietly. “But I am in this position, boys. I know very little about the trees we see around us. That they are the right ones there can be no doubt, for the Indians are camped here, cutting them down, and peeling off and drying the bark. There are several kinds which produce inferior kinds of quinine; but these laurel-like evergreen trees produce the true, the best Peruvian bark; and it is to take away the means of propagating these trees in suitable hot mountainous colonies of our own, that we are here. Now, how is it to be done?”“Indians won’t let it be done, sir,” said Manning. “Here, I know lots o’ places up Simla way where it would grow fine. Up there, north o’ Calcutta, sir.”“Yes; there are spots there where it might be grown, or in the mountains of Ceylon,” said the colonel; “but we have to get it there.”“I know,” said Cyril. “Let’s get heaps of seed. Why, we might till our pockets that way.”“Yes; that is my great hope, boys; so, whenever you see seed-pods or berries nearly ripe, secure them. But we are surrounded by difficulties. We may be here at the wrong time of year, though I calculated that as well as I could; and now that we are here, I have been terribly disappointed, for so far, instead of seeing seed, I have noted nothing but the blossoms. It is as if we are too early, though I hope these are only a second crop of flowers, and that we may find seed after all.”“But these sweet-smelling flowers, something like small lilac, are not the blossoms of the trees, are they?” said Perry.“Yes, those are they,” said the colonel. “Now my secret is out, and you know what we have to do.—Well, Manning, what is it?”“My old father had a garden, sir, and he used to grow little shrubs by cutting up roots in little bits, which were often dry as a bone when he put them in, but they used to grow.”“Yes,” said the colonel. “Quite right; and now we are here, in spite of all opposition, we must take away with us seeds, cuttings of twigs, and roots, and if possible, and we can find them, a number of the tiny seedlings which spring up beneath the old trees from the scattered seed. There, that is our work, and all must help.—Do you hear, Manning?”“Oh yes, sir, I hear, and if you show me exactly what you want, I’ll do my best; but, begging your pardon, sir, ain’t it taking a deal o’ trouble for very small gains?”“No, my man, the reward will be incalculable.”“All right, sir, you know best. I’ll do what you tell me, and when we’ve got what we want, I’ll fight for it. That’s more in my way. But, begging your pardon once more, wouldn’t it be better for you to go to the head-man, and say, through Master Cyril here: ‘Look here, young fellow, we’ve come a long journey to get some seed and young plants of this stuff; can’t you make a sort of trade of it, and sell us a few pen’orth civilly.’”The colonel laughed.“No. They will not let us take a seed out of the country if they can prevent it. I will tell you all the worst at once. They will make a bold effort to master the dread with which I have succeeded in inspiring them, and fight desperately to stop us when we get our little store.”“Then, begging your pardon again, colonel, wouldn’t it ha’ been better to have come with a couple of companies of foot, and marched up with fixed bayonets, and told him that you didn’t mean to stand any nonsense, but were going to take as much seed as you liked?”“Invited the rulers of the country to send a little army after us?”“Yes, of course, sir; but they’ve got no soldiers out here as could face British Grenadiers.”The colonel was ready to listen to every opinion that night, and he replied quietly:“I thought it all out before I started, and this was the only way—to come up into the mountains as simple travellers, reach the hot slopes and valley regions where the cinchona grows, and then trust to our good fortune to get a good supply of the seed. But, even now, from our start from San Geronimo we have been watched. You have noticed it too, boys. Even the guide we took has arrayed himself against us from the first, and, while seeming to obey my orders, has taken care to communicate with every one we passed that he was suspicious of my motives. Every mile we have come through the mountain-range has been noted, and will be noted, till we get back.”“Why not go back, then, some other way, sir?”“Because we cannot cross the mountains where we please. The road we followed is one which, no doubt, dates from the days when the Incas ruled, and there are others here and there at intervals, but they will be of no use to us. Somehow or other, we must go back by the way we came, and I hope to take at least one mule-load with us to get safely to England. There, that is enough for to-night. Now for a good rest and we shall see what to-morrow brings forth. Cyril and Perry, you will be on sentry till as near midnight as you can guess, and then rouse me. I’m going now to take a look round at the mules, and then I shall lie down.”He rose and walked away to where the mules were cropping the grass, which grew abundantly in the open places, and as soon as he was out of hearing, John Manning began to growl.“All right, young gentlemen,” he said, “I’m ready for anything; but, of all the wild scarum-harum games I was ever in, this is about the wildest. Come up here to steal stuff! for that’s what it is, and you can’t call it anything else. I’ve know’d people steal every mortal thing nearly, from a horse down to a pocket-knife. I’ve been where the niggers tickled you when you was asleep and made you roll over, so that they could steal the blanket you lay upon. I’ve seen the crows in Indy steal the food out of the dogs’ mouths; but this beats everything.”“Why?” said Perry shortly.“Why, sir? Because physic’s a thing as everybody’s willing enough to give to someone else; I didn’t think it was a thing as anybody would ever dream o’ stealing. As you may say, it’s a thing as couldn’t be stole.”“Father knows what he is about,” said Perry shortly.“Course he does, sir. Nobody denies that. We’ve got to begin taking physic with a vengeance. All right: I’m ready. And I was thinking all the time as we should bring back those four-legged jackasses loaded with gold and precious stones. All right, gentlemen. As I said before, I’m ready; and it’s a good beginning for me, for I shall get a long night’s rest; so here goes.”He rolled himself in his blanket, then lay down with his feet near the fire, and began to breathe the heavy breath of a sleeper the next minute.“Well, Cil,” said Perry, “what do you think of it?”“Don’t know,” said Cyril. “Yes, I do. They’re wonderfully watchful over the bark, and as soon as they know what we are after, they’ll stop us.”“Then we must not let them see what we are after, my lad,” said the colonel, who had returned unseen. “We must collect plants and flowers of all kinds, and load a couple of the mules. That will help to disarm suspicion.—Pieces loaded?”“Yes, sir.”“That’s right. We must keep military watch now regularly; but there will be nothing to fear to-night.”
They were by this time close up in front of the huts of the bark gatherers, when all at once one of the huge condors came swooping along overhead, looking gigantic up against the sky. And then it was as if a sudden idea had struck the colonel, who raised his piece, took aim, lowered it, and hesitated; for the huge bird was at a great distance, and the people looked at him wonderingly. The next moment his rifle was at his shoulder again, there was the flash and puff of white smoke, the sharp crack, and the rumbling echoing roar in the mountains, as the condor was seen to swerve and then dart straight upward.
“Missed!” muttered John Manning, “but he felt the bullet.”
“Hit!” cried Cyril excitedly, for all at once the bird’s wings closed, and it fell over and over and then dropped like a stone, crashing in among the trees about a hundred yards away.
The Indians had looked on at first incredulously, and several of them exchanged glances as the condor shot upward as if to escape unharmed; but the moment it turned over and began to fall, they set up a loud shout and rushed off to pick up the fallen bird, the whole crowd making for the dense patch of forest, and then walking back steadily, bearing the bird in triumph.
“Rather a risky thing to do, boys,” said the colonel, reloading as he spoke. “If I had missed, I should have done harm to the position we have made in these people’s estimation. But I felt that I could hit the bird, and now they will believe that I may prove a terrible enemy in anger.”
“Do it? Of course he could,” whispered John Manning. “I’ve known him take a rifle from one of our men lots of times, and pick off one of the Beloochees who was doing no end of mischief in our ranks up in the mountains.”
By this time the Indians were back, looking full of excitement, and ready almost to worship the white chief who had come amongst them, with such power of life and death in his hands—powers beside which their bows and arrows and poison-dealing blowpipes seemed to them to be pitiful in the extreme. They laid the body of the great bird, which was stone-dead, at his feet, and then looked at him wonderingly, as if to say, “What next?”
That shot had the effect which the colonel had intended to produce, for to a man the Indians felt the terrible power their white visitor held in his hand, and each felt that he might be the object of his vengeance if any attack was made.
But Colonel Campion felt that the effect was only likely to be temporary, and that he must gain the object for which he had made his perilous journey as quickly as possible, and begin to return before the impression had worn off.
Bidding Cyril then tell their guide that he should camp there for a few days, he sent the two men back for the mules, giving orders that they should take a couple of the Indians who had followed them to help.
His manner carried the day, and the party of four departed.
“I suppose it’s all right, Master Cyril,” whispered John Manning; “but I should have thought we’d ha’ done better by fortifying our own camp, and not running our heads right into the lion’s mouth; but the colonel knows best, and we’ve only got to obey orders.”
Certainly that seemed to be the safest course to pursue—a bold one; so in this spirit, and as if the colonel felt that there was nothing whatever to be feared from the people, the mules and packages were brought up. A snugly-sheltered spot was selected, close to a spring which came gushing from the rock, and a fresh camp made; the party going and coming among the cinchona gatherers as if they were invited visitors; while the Indians themselves looked puzzled, and watched every action from a distance.
That night, beside the fire, surrounded by the dense growth of the life-preserving trees he had sought, the colonel became more communicative.
“You boys have, I daresay, canvassed why I undertook this expedition,” he said, “and, I suppose, took it for granted that I came in search of the gold supposed to be hidden by the Peruvians, to save it from the rapacity of the Spaniards.”
“Yes, sir; that’s what I thought,” said Cyril.
“Or else to find one of the di’mond walleys,” growled John Manning.
“This is not the right direction for them, my man,” said the colonel, smiling. “You have to seek for them between the leaves of books. No, boys; I came to seek something of far greater value to my fellow-creatures than a buried store of yellow metal, which may or may not exist. It is possible that a number of the sacred vessels from some of the old temples may have been hidden by the priests, who, at their death, handed down the secret to their successors; but I think it is far more likely to be a fable. Still, the Indians believe in it, and if they knew that a discovery had been made, they would destroy the lives of the finders, sooner than that the gold should be taken out of the country.”
“Then you have not come to find the gold, sir?” said Cyril; while Perry lay there upon his chest, resting his chin upon his hands, and elbows on the earth, gazing up in his father’s face.
“No, boy; I have come, and I am running some risks, I know, to drag out into the light of day the wondrous medicine which has saved the lives of hundreds of thousands, and made it possible for men to exist in the fever-haunted countries spread around the globe.”
“You mean quinine,” said Cyril. “Father always keeps a bottle in his desk.”
“Yes, I mean quinine, the beautiful crystals obtained from the bark of these trees, boy; the medicine kept so jealously guarded here, the only place where it is produced, high up on the eastern slope of these mountains. I have come to seek it, and have found it far more easily than I expected: we are sitting and lying here right in the middle of one of the cinchona groves.”
“But we can’t take away much, father, even if they will let us,” said Perry.
“Wrong, boy. I hope that we shall be able to bear away, unseen, enough to stock the world, and to make the drug, which is a blessing to humanity, plentiful, instead of civilised Europe having to depend upon the supply from here—from this carefully-guarded place.”
“You mean to take away some young trees,” said Cyril excitedly.
“I should like to do so, but that is a doubtful way, my boy. The young trees would be awkward to carry, and transplanting trees often means killing them. We must try something better than that, though. I shall see what I can do in making one bundle, with the roots carefully bound up in damp moss.”
“Yes, we might do that,” assented Cyril, “but we didn’t bring a spade.”
“Let us find some tiny trees, and we’ll do without a spade,” said the colonel quietly. “But I am in this position, boys. I know very little about the trees we see around us. That they are the right ones there can be no doubt, for the Indians are camped here, cutting them down, and peeling off and drying the bark. There are several kinds which produce inferior kinds of quinine; but these laurel-like evergreen trees produce the true, the best Peruvian bark; and it is to take away the means of propagating these trees in suitable hot mountainous colonies of our own, that we are here. Now, how is it to be done?”
“Indians won’t let it be done, sir,” said Manning. “Here, I know lots o’ places up Simla way where it would grow fine. Up there, north o’ Calcutta, sir.”
“Yes; there are spots there where it might be grown, or in the mountains of Ceylon,” said the colonel; “but we have to get it there.”
“I know,” said Cyril. “Let’s get heaps of seed. Why, we might till our pockets that way.”
“Yes; that is my great hope, boys; so, whenever you see seed-pods or berries nearly ripe, secure them. But we are surrounded by difficulties. We may be here at the wrong time of year, though I calculated that as well as I could; and now that we are here, I have been terribly disappointed, for so far, instead of seeing seed, I have noted nothing but the blossoms. It is as if we are too early, though I hope these are only a second crop of flowers, and that we may find seed after all.”
“But these sweet-smelling flowers, something like small lilac, are not the blossoms of the trees, are they?” said Perry.
“Yes, those are they,” said the colonel. “Now my secret is out, and you know what we have to do.—Well, Manning, what is it?”
“My old father had a garden, sir, and he used to grow little shrubs by cutting up roots in little bits, which were often dry as a bone when he put them in, but they used to grow.”
“Yes,” said the colonel. “Quite right; and now we are here, in spite of all opposition, we must take away with us seeds, cuttings of twigs, and roots, and if possible, and we can find them, a number of the tiny seedlings which spring up beneath the old trees from the scattered seed. There, that is our work, and all must help.—Do you hear, Manning?”
“Oh yes, sir, I hear, and if you show me exactly what you want, I’ll do my best; but, begging your pardon, sir, ain’t it taking a deal o’ trouble for very small gains?”
“No, my man, the reward will be incalculable.”
“All right, sir, you know best. I’ll do what you tell me, and when we’ve got what we want, I’ll fight for it. That’s more in my way. But, begging your pardon once more, wouldn’t it be better for you to go to the head-man, and say, through Master Cyril here: ‘Look here, young fellow, we’ve come a long journey to get some seed and young plants of this stuff; can’t you make a sort of trade of it, and sell us a few pen’orth civilly.’”
The colonel laughed.
“No. They will not let us take a seed out of the country if they can prevent it. I will tell you all the worst at once. They will make a bold effort to master the dread with which I have succeeded in inspiring them, and fight desperately to stop us when we get our little store.”
“Then, begging your pardon again, colonel, wouldn’t it ha’ been better to have come with a couple of companies of foot, and marched up with fixed bayonets, and told him that you didn’t mean to stand any nonsense, but were going to take as much seed as you liked?”
“Invited the rulers of the country to send a little army after us?”
“Yes, of course, sir; but they’ve got no soldiers out here as could face British Grenadiers.”
The colonel was ready to listen to every opinion that night, and he replied quietly:
“I thought it all out before I started, and this was the only way—to come up into the mountains as simple travellers, reach the hot slopes and valley regions where the cinchona grows, and then trust to our good fortune to get a good supply of the seed. But, even now, from our start from San Geronimo we have been watched. You have noticed it too, boys. Even the guide we took has arrayed himself against us from the first, and, while seeming to obey my orders, has taken care to communicate with every one we passed that he was suspicious of my motives. Every mile we have come through the mountain-range has been noted, and will be noted, till we get back.”
“Why not go back, then, some other way, sir?”
“Because we cannot cross the mountains where we please. The road we followed is one which, no doubt, dates from the days when the Incas ruled, and there are others here and there at intervals, but they will be of no use to us. Somehow or other, we must go back by the way we came, and I hope to take at least one mule-load with us to get safely to England. There, that is enough for to-night. Now for a good rest and we shall see what to-morrow brings forth. Cyril and Perry, you will be on sentry till as near midnight as you can guess, and then rouse me. I’m going now to take a look round at the mules, and then I shall lie down.”
He rose and walked away to where the mules were cropping the grass, which grew abundantly in the open places, and as soon as he was out of hearing, John Manning began to growl.
“All right, young gentlemen,” he said, “I’m ready for anything; but, of all the wild scarum-harum games I was ever in, this is about the wildest. Come up here to steal stuff! for that’s what it is, and you can’t call it anything else. I’ve know’d people steal every mortal thing nearly, from a horse down to a pocket-knife. I’ve been where the niggers tickled you when you was asleep and made you roll over, so that they could steal the blanket you lay upon. I’ve seen the crows in Indy steal the food out of the dogs’ mouths; but this beats everything.”
“Why?” said Perry shortly.
“Why, sir? Because physic’s a thing as everybody’s willing enough to give to someone else; I didn’t think it was a thing as anybody would ever dream o’ stealing. As you may say, it’s a thing as couldn’t be stole.”
“Father knows what he is about,” said Perry shortly.
“Course he does, sir. Nobody denies that. We’ve got to begin taking physic with a vengeance. All right: I’m ready. And I was thinking all the time as we should bring back those four-legged jackasses loaded with gold and precious stones. All right, gentlemen. As I said before, I’m ready; and it’s a good beginning for me, for I shall get a long night’s rest; so here goes.”
He rolled himself in his blanket, then lay down with his feet near the fire, and began to breathe the heavy breath of a sleeper the next minute.
“Well, Cil,” said Perry, “what do you think of it?”
“Don’t know,” said Cyril. “Yes, I do. They’re wonderfully watchful over the bark, and as soon as they know what we are after, they’ll stop us.”
“Then we must not let them see what we are after, my lad,” said the colonel, who had returned unseen. “We must collect plants and flowers of all kinds, and load a couple of the mules. That will help to disarm suspicion.—Pieces loaded?”
“Yes, sir.”
“That’s right. We must keep military watch now regularly; but there will be nothing to fear to-night.”
Chapter Fourteen.The Night-Watch.Those were very encouraging words, and they seemed to tingle in the boys’ ears as the colonel followed his servant’s example, rolled a blanket about his shoulders, and lay down with his head resting on one of the mules’ loads; but the impression soon died away, leaving the lads close together, with their guns resting on the grass, listening in the deep silence of the starlit night, and for some time without speaking a word.“Come a little farther away,” whispered Perry at last. “I want to talk.”They moved a few yards away from the sleepers, and stopped beneath a great spreading tree at about equal distance from the colonel and the fire, which glowed faintly, but gave sufficient light for them to see Diego and the other Indian squatted down, making tents of their long garments, and with their chins bent down upon their breasts; but whether asleep, or waking and watchful, it was impossible to say.“Well?” said Perry at last, after they had been straining their ears to catch different sounds, now the trickling murmur of falling water, now some strange cry from far away in the woods, or the whisper of a breeze which came down from the mountains to pass away among the trees.“Well?” said Cyril.“Isn’t it awfully quiet?”“Yes.”“Look over there, just to the left of the fire. Isn’t that some one watching us?”“Tree trunk,” said Cyril laconically.There was a pause, and then Perry whispered again.“I say, I don’t want to be cowardly, but there’s some one coming slowly through the trees. I caught a glimpse of his back. He’s stooping down—there, between those two big trunks, where it’s open. Don’t you see—stooping?”“Yes, I see, and nibbling the grass as he comes. One of the mules.”Perry shaded his eyes—needlessly, for there was no glare to shut out—and he soon convinced himself that his companion was right.But he felt annoyed, and said testily:“I wish you wouldn’t be so ready to contradict everything I say.”Cyril laughed softly.“Why, you didn’t want it to be an enemy, did you?”Perry made no reply, and they stood for some time together in silence, listening to thecrop, cropsound made by the mules, and the whispering sighs of the wind, which came down sharp and chill from the mountains. At last Cyril spoke again.“Let’s walk round the camp.”“You can’t for the trees.”“Oh yes, we can. It’s cold standing here. We’ll work in and out of the trees, and make a regular path round. It will be better than standing still.”“Very well,” said Perry shortly. “Go on first.”Cyril shouldered his piece and stepped off cautiously for a couple of dozen yards, and then struck off to the left, meaning to make the fire act as a centre round which they could walk, keeping guard and themselves warm; but before he had gone many steps he stopped short.“Look here,” he whispered, “you are a soldier’s son, and ought to teach me what to do in keeping guard.”“There’s nothing to teach,” said Perry. “All you’ve got to do is to keep a sharp lookout.”“Yes, there is. If we keep together like this, we leave a lot of the camp exposed. What we ought to do is for one to go one way, and one the other; then meet, cross, and go on again. It would be far better.”“But then we should be alone so long. We had better keep together.”“Very well,” said Cyril shortly; but he owned to himself that he felt better satisfied, for it was lonely, depressing work there in the darkness.Cyril stepped forward again, going slowly and carefully through the thick growth, making as little noise as possible, and trying to keep as nearly as possible to the same distance from the fire—no easy task, by the way—but he had not gone far before he stopped short and started aside, bringing his gun down to the present. For, all at once, from out of the darkness, some one seemed to strike at him, the blow cutting through the twigs and leaves by which he was surrounded with a loud whistling noise, while the stroke was so near, that he felt the air move close to his face.“Fire—fire!” whispered Perry excitedly.“What at? I can’t see any one,” replied Cyril, as he stood with his finger on the trigger.He felt his heart beat with a heavy throb, and his hands grew moist, as he tried hard to pierce the darkness, and fix his eyes upon the enemy who had made so cowardly a blow at him; but the thick branches shut out every ray of light, and the silence was now painful in the extreme. The position was the more startling from the fact that neither could tell from which side the next blow would come.But still that blow did not fall, and it seemed to Cyril, as he stood there holding his breath, that the Indian who had struck at him so treacherously was waiting until he moved, so as to make sure before striking again. At last the painful tension came to an end, for suddenly, from just in front, there was a heavy sigh, andcrop, crop, crop, followed by a burst of laughter from the boy.“Oh, I say, Perry,” he cried, “what a game! Fancy being scared like that by a mule.”“Then it was one of the mules?”“Of course; we frightened the poor thing, and it kicked out at us. Come along.”He bore off a little to one side, and they passed the browsing animal, and, though describing rather an irregular circle, made their way round the fire, getting back pretty exactly to the place from which they started.This was repeated several times, and then, for a change, Cyril proposed that they should strike off a little, straight away from the camp.Perry was willing, and they put their plan in operation, for no special reason other than that of seeing the ground was clear in different directions, and to relieve the monotony of the watch.“You lead now,” said Cyril, in a low voice, so as not to disturb the others, who, in thorough confidence that a good watch would be kept, and that there was no fear of any danger, were sound asleep.Perry led on, finding the way more open a short distance from the camp, but he had not led thirty yards when he stopped short.“Hallo! another mule?” said Cyril.“Indian!” said Perry huskily; and, as Cyril pressed forward to his companion’s side, there, hard to define, but plain at last, stood one of the Indians, who raised his arm and pointed back, uttering two or three words in a guttural tone.“What does he say?”“That we must go back to the fire. Perhaps we had better,” said Cyril. “I don’t like his being there, though. Look here,” he said quickly; “let’s make haste back, and go right out the other way.”“What for?” said Perry, following his companion.“I’ll tell you directly.”Five minutes later they were checked just on the other side by another Indian who started up right in their path.“Come and warn my father,” said Perry excitedly. “They’re going to attack us.”“No; I think not,” replied Cyril decisively. “They’re sentries. Come and try another way.”He led off again, after they had returned to the fire, finding that they were not followed, and that all was still; and again they were stopped by an Indian starting up and ordering them back.“That’s it,” said Cyril quietly; “they’ve surrounded us with sentries.”“To attack us?”“No; to see that we don’t escape; and while we were walking round and round, they were within a few yards of us, listening to all our movements.”“But they couldn’t have been there then, or they would have started up as they did just now.”“No; we weren’t doing anything they minded; but as soon as we tried to go straight away, they stopped us. Let’s try once more.”He led off quickly again, with the same result; and then Perry turned back to where his father lay asleep.“What are you going to do?” whispered Cyril.“Wake up my father, of course. We are attacked.”“Don’t do that,” said Cyril decisively. “We are not attacked, or they would have seized us at once. I’m sure they are only guarding us, to make sure that we don’t try to escape. It’s of no use to wake him till the proper time.”Perry hesitated.“But we are in danger.”“No; I don’t think we are. They are watching us, but they don’t mean to attack us, or they would do so. You’ll see now. We’ve come among them, and they’ll keep us under their eye, and perhaps will not let us go again. Look here: let’s go and speak to Diego.”Perry was easily led, and yielding to his companion’s decisive manner, he followed to the fire and then round to the other side, where the Indian guide and his companion were squatted down with their chins resting upon their chests.They made no sign as the boys came silently up, and appeared to be fast asleep; but Cyril knew better, for he saw in the dim glow shed by the fire, a slight tightening of the man’s hand upon his bow.“They’re asleep,” whispered Perry. “Better come to my father.”“Asleep with one eye open, and on the watch,” said Cyril quietly, and he bent down and whispered a few words.They were electric in their effect, for both men raised their heads, and their eyes glittered in the faint light from the fire.“Didn’t take much waking,” said Cyril, with a little laugh. Then turning to Diego, he said, in the man’s half-Spanish jargon:“Why are the Indians on the watch all round here?”The man looked at the speaker intently.“Are the Indians watching all round?” he said quietly.“You know they are. Why is it? To keep us from going away?”The man looked at him intently, and then nodded his head.“And suppose we try to go away, what then? Would they fight?”“Yes,” said the guide gravely.“And try to kill us?”“Yes, they would kill you.”“Try to, you mean.”“No,” said the man gravely. “Kill you. You are few, they are many.”“Stop a moment,” said Cyril, as the man turned his head aside wearily. “Will they try to kill us if we stay?”“No.”Cyril tried to get more information from the man, but he shook his head, and made a pretence of being so lazy and unable to comprehend the boy’s words, that Cyril gave up in disgust, and turned impatiently away.“It’s of no good to-night,” he said. “We heard all that he is likely to know. Let’s walk round again.”“But they may strike at us in the dark.”“No, they will not do that. I’m not afraid. Let’s go through with our watching, till we think it’s midnight, and then wake up the colonel.”“We’d better call him now.”“No; if we did, it would only be giving a false alarm, when we know that there is no danger. Come along.”The weaker mind yielded to the stronger, and the march round was begun again, one which required no little courage, knowing, as the boys did, that there must be quite a dozen Indians within striking distance, and every rustle they heard, made probably by one of the grazing mules, might be caused by an enemy creeping forward to strike a blow.At last, when they felt that it must be getting toward midnight, Cyril proposed that they should go back close to where the colonel lay asleep, and they had not been standing near him ten minutes, hesitating to call him for fear he should be awakened too soon, when he suddenly made a hasty movement, opened his eyes, looked round, and sprang to his feet.“Midnight, boys,” he said, “is it not?”“We don’t know, father, and did not like to call you too soon.”“Yes, it must be about midnight,” he said decisively, “or I should not have woke up. Well, is all right?”“No, father,” whispered Perry.“Oh yes; there’s nothing to mind,” said Cyril hastily. “We only found that there are a lot of Indians round about the camp.”“You saw them?”“Yes, sir. So soon as we moved a little way, a man rose up and stopped us.”“On one side?” said the colonel.“All round, sir.”“On guard, then, in case we wished to escape. We’re prisoners, my lad, for the present. However, they will not venture to hurt us, unless we give them good reason, by loading up the mules to take away something they consider ought to be kept here, and that we shall not be ready to do for some days to come.”“That’s what I wanted Perry to feel sir,” said Cyril, “but he would have it that they were going to attack us to-night.”“There is no fear of that, my boy,” said the colonel firmly. “There, lie down, and sleep till breakfast-time; there is nothing to fear.”“But are you going to watch alone, sir?”“Yes, quite alone, my lad,” said the colonel, smiling. “There, take my place; I’m rested now, and you have nothing to mind. Don’t meet perils half-way; its bad enough when they come. Till they do, it is our duty to be patient and watch. Afterwards we must fight—if it is necessary. Now—to bed.”The boys obeyed, and the colonel commenced his solitary watch.
Those were very encouraging words, and they seemed to tingle in the boys’ ears as the colonel followed his servant’s example, rolled a blanket about his shoulders, and lay down with his head resting on one of the mules’ loads; but the impression soon died away, leaving the lads close together, with their guns resting on the grass, listening in the deep silence of the starlit night, and for some time without speaking a word.
“Come a little farther away,” whispered Perry at last. “I want to talk.”
They moved a few yards away from the sleepers, and stopped beneath a great spreading tree at about equal distance from the colonel and the fire, which glowed faintly, but gave sufficient light for them to see Diego and the other Indian squatted down, making tents of their long garments, and with their chins bent down upon their breasts; but whether asleep, or waking and watchful, it was impossible to say.
“Well?” said Perry at last, after they had been straining their ears to catch different sounds, now the trickling murmur of falling water, now some strange cry from far away in the woods, or the whisper of a breeze which came down from the mountains to pass away among the trees.
“Well?” said Cyril.
“Isn’t it awfully quiet?”
“Yes.”
“Look over there, just to the left of the fire. Isn’t that some one watching us?”
“Tree trunk,” said Cyril laconically.
There was a pause, and then Perry whispered again.
“I say, I don’t want to be cowardly, but there’s some one coming slowly through the trees. I caught a glimpse of his back. He’s stooping down—there, between those two big trunks, where it’s open. Don’t you see—stooping?”
“Yes, I see, and nibbling the grass as he comes. One of the mules.”
Perry shaded his eyes—needlessly, for there was no glare to shut out—and he soon convinced himself that his companion was right.
But he felt annoyed, and said testily:
“I wish you wouldn’t be so ready to contradict everything I say.”
Cyril laughed softly.
“Why, you didn’t want it to be an enemy, did you?”
Perry made no reply, and they stood for some time together in silence, listening to thecrop, cropsound made by the mules, and the whispering sighs of the wind, which came down sharp and chill from the mountains. At last Cyril spoke again.
“Let’s walk round the camp.”
“You can’t for the trees.”
“Oh yes, we can. It’s cold standing here. We’ll work in and out of the trees, and make a regular path round. It will be better than standing still.”
“Very well,” said Perry shortly. “Go on first.”
Cyril shouldered his piece and stepped off cautiously for a couple of dozen yards, and then struck off to the left, meaning to make the fire act as a centre round which they could walk, keeping guard and themselves warm; but before he had gone many steps he stopped short.
“Look here,” he whispered, “you are a soldier’s son, and ought to teach me what to do in keeping guard.”
“There’s nothing to teach,” said Perry. “All you’ve got to do is to keep a sharp lookout.”
“Yes, there is. If we keep together like this, we leave a lot of the camp exposed. What we ought to do is for one to go one way, and one the other; then meet, cross, and go on again. It would be far better.”
“But then we should be alone so long. We had better keep together.”
“Very well,” said Cyril shortly; but he owned to himself that he felt better satisfied, for it was lonely, depressing work there in the darkness.
Cyril stepped forward again, going slowly and carefully through the thick growth, making as little noise as possible, and trying to keep as nearly as possible to the same distance from the fire—no easy task, by the way—but he had not gone far before he stopped short and started aside, bringing his gun down to the present. For, all at once, from out of the darkness, some one seemed to strike at him, the blow cutting through the twigs and leaves by which he was surrounded with a loud whistling noise, while the stroke was so near, that he felt the air move close to his face.
“Fire—fire!” whispered Perry excitedly.
“What at? I can’t see any one,” replied Cyril, as he stood with his finger on the trigger.
He felt his heart beat with a heavy throb, and his hands grew moist, as he tried hard to pierce the darkness, and fix his eyes upon the enemy who had made so cowardly a blow at him; but the thick branches shut out every ray of light, and the silence was now painful in the extreme. The position was the more startling from the fact that neither could tell from which side the next blow would come.
But still that blow did not fall, and it seemed to Cyril, as he stood there holding his breath, that the Indian who had struck at him so treacherously was waiting until he moved, so as to make sure before striking again. At last the painful tension came to an end, for suddenly, from just in front, there was a heavy sigh, andcrop, crop, crop, followed by a burst of laughter from the boy.
“Oh, I say, Perry,” he cried, “what a game! Fancy being scared like that by a mule.”
“Then it was one of the mules?”
“Of course; we frightened the poor thing, and it kicked out at us. Come along.”
He bore off a little to one side, and they passed the browsing animal, and, though describing rather an irregular circle, made their way round the fire, getting back pretty exactly to the place from which they started.
This was repeated several times, and then, for a change, Cyril proposed that they should strike off a little, straight away from the camp.
Perry was willing, and they put their plan in operation, for no special reason other than that of seeing the ground was clear in different directions, and to relieve the monotony of the watch.
“You lead now,” said Cyril, in a low voice, so as not to disturb the others, who, in thorough confidence that a good watch would be kept, and that there was no fear of any danger, were sound asleep.
Perry led on, finding the way more open a short distance from the camp, but he had not led thirty yards when he stopped short.
“Hallo! another mule?” said Cyril.
“Indian!” said Perry huskily; and, as Cyril pressed forward to his companion’s side, there, hard to define, but plain at last, stood one of the Indians, who raised his arm and pointed back, uttering two or three words in a guttural tone.
“What does he say?”
“That we must go back to the fire. Perhaps we had better,” said Cyril. “I don’t like his being there, though. Look here,” he said quickly; “let’s make haste back, and go right out the other way.”
“What for?” said Perry, following his companion.
“I’ll tell you directly.”
Five minutes later they were checked just on the other side by another Indian who started up right in their path.
“Come and warn my father,” said Perry excitedly. “They’re going to attack us.”
“No; I think not,” replied Cyril decisively. “They’re sentries. Come and try another way.”
He led off again, after they had returned to the fire, finding that they were not followed, and that all was still; and again they were stopped by an Indian starting up and ordering them back.
“That’s it,” said Cyril quietly; “they’ve surrounded us with sentries.”
“To attack us?”
“No; to see that we don’t escape; and while we were walking round and round, they were within a few yards of us, listening to all our movements.”
“But they couldn’t have been there then, or they would have started up as they did just now.”
“No; we weren’t doing anything they minded; but as soon as we tried to go straight away, they stopped us. Let’s try once more.”
He led off quickly again, with the same result; and then Perry turned back to where his father lay asleep.
“What are you going to do?” whispered Cyril.
“Wake up my father, of course. We are attacked.”
“Don’t do that,” said Cyril decisively. “We are not attacked, or they would have seized us at once. I’m sure they are only guarding us, to make sure that we don’t try to escape. It’s of no use to wake him till the proper time.”
Perry hesitated.
“But we are in danger.”
“No; I don’t think we are. They are watching us, but they don’t mean to attack us, or they would do so. You’ll see now. We’ve come among them, and they’ll keep us under their eye, and perhaps will not let us go again. Look here: let’s go and speak to Diego.”
Perry was easily led, and yielding to his companion’s decisive manner, he followed to the fire and then round to the other side, where the Indian guide and his companion were squatted down with their chins resting upon their chests.
They made no sign as the boys came silently up, and appeared to be fast asleep; but Cyril knew better, for he saw in the dim glow shed by the fire, a slight tightening of the man’s hand upon his bow.
“They’re asleep,” whispered Perry. “Better come to my father.”
“Asleep with one eye open, and on the watch,” said Cyril quietly, and he bent down and whispered a few words.
They were electric in their effect, for both men raised their heads, and their eyes glittered in the faint light from the fire.
“Didn’t take much waking,” said Cyril, with a little laugh. Then turning to Diego, he said, in the man’s half-Spanish jargon:
“Why are the Indians on the watch all round here?”
The man looked at the speaker intently.
“Are the Indians watching all round?” he said quietly.
“You know they are. Why is it? To keep us from going away?”
The man looked at him intently, and then nodded his head.
“And suppose we try to go away, what then? Would they fight?”
“Yes,” said the guide gravely.
“And try to kill us?”
“Yes, they would kill you.”
“Try to, you mean.”
“No,” said the man gravely. “Kill you. You are few, they are many.”
“Stop a moment,” said Cyril, as the man turned his head aside wearily. “Will they try to kill us if we stay?”
“No.”
Cyril tried to get more information from the man, but he shook his head, and made a pretence of being so lazy and unable to comprehend the boy’s words, that Cyril gave up in disgust, and turned impatiently away.
“It’s of no good to-night,” he said. “We heard all that he is likely to know. Let’s walk round again.”
“But they may strike at us in the dark.”
“No, they will not do that. I’m not afraid. Let’s go through with our watching, till we think it’s midnight, and then wake up the colonel.”
“We’d better call him now.”
“No; if we did, it would only be giving a false alarm, when we know that there is no danger. Come along.”
The weaker mind yielded to the stronger, and the march round was begun again, one which required no little courage, knowing, as the boys did, that there must be quite a dozen Indians within striking distance, and every rustle they heard, made probably by one of the grazing mules, might be caused by an enemy creeping forward to strike a blow.
At last, when they felt that it must be getting toward midnight, Cyril proposed that they should go back close to where the colonel lay asleep, and they had not been standing near him ten minutes, hesitating to call him for fear he should be awakened too soon, when he suddenly made a hasty movement, opened his eyes, looked round, and sprang to his feet.
“Midnight, boys,” he said, “is it not?”
“We don’t know, father, and did not like to call you too soon.”
“Yes, it must be about midnight,” he said decisively, “or I should not have woke up. Well, is all right?”
“No, father,” whispered Perry.
“Oh yes; there’s nothing to mind,” said Cyril hastily. “We only found that there are a lot of Indians round about the camp.”
“You saw them?”
“Yes, sir. So soon as we moved a little way, a man rose up and stopped us.”
“On one side?” said the colonel.
“All round, sir.”
“On guard, then, in case we wished to escape. We’re prisoners, my lad, for the present. However, they will not venture to hurt us, unless we give them good reason, by loading up the mules to take away something they consider ought to be kept here, and that we shall not be ready to do for some days to come.”
“That’s what I wanted Perry to feel sir,” said Cyril, “but he would have it that they were going to attack us to-night.”
“There is no fear of that, my boy,” said the colonel firmly. “There, lie down, and sleep till breakfast-time; there is nothing to fear.”
“But are you going to watch alone, sir?”
“Yes, quite alone, my lad,” said the colonel, smiling. “There, take my place; I’m rested now, and you have nothing to mind. Don’t meet perils half-way; its bad enough when they come. Till they do, it is our duty to be patient and watch. Afterwards we must fight—if it is necessary. Now—to bed.”
The boys obeyed, and the colonel commenced his solitary watch.
Chapter Fifteen.Collecting the Gold.“Ever see ’em ketch eels at home, Master Cyril?” said John Manning one morning.“We used to set night lines in the lake at school,” said Cyril. “We threw the bait out ever so far, and tied the other end to a brick sunk in the water.”“Oh yes: but I don’t mean that way, where every twopenny eel spoils four pen’orth o’ good line and hooks. I mean with an eel-trap, one of those made of osiers, so that it’s very easy to get in, but very hard to get out.”“Yes; I saw some of those once,” cried Perry, “up by a weir. But why? There are no eels here.”John Manning chuckled, and shook all over, as if he enjoyed what he was saying.“Not many, sir, but quite enough. We’re the eels, and we’ve wriggled ourselves right into a trap, and there’s no getting out again.”“It doesn’t seem as if there were,” said Cyril thoughtfully; “but we’re getting what the colonel wanted, and I don’t think the Indians have noticed it yet.”“’Tain’t for want of looking, sir,” said the old soldier. “I go for a bit of a walk in one direction, and begin picking something, and feel a tickling about the back. ‘Some one’s eyes on me,’ I says to myself, and I go a bit farther, and feel the same tickling in front. Then one side, then t’other, and it’s always eyes watching.”“Yes,” said Perry. “We’ve been a week here, and I get so sick of it: I never move without there being some one after me; and the worst of it is, you don’t see him coming, but find him watching you from behind a rock, or out of a bush.”“Yes,” said Cyril, “it isn’t nice. They crawl about like snakes, and almost as quietly.”“Don’t matter,” said John Manning, with another chuckle. “We can be as cunning as they. How have you young gents got on since the colonel give his orders?”“Pretty well,” said Cyril. “Of course it’s of no use to try and get roots or cuttings, they look too sharp after us; but I’ve found some seed, and he has got more than I have.”“How much have you got, both of you together?” asked the old soldier, with his eyes twinkling.“Nearly a handful, I should say,” replied Cyril.“A handful, sir! Why, what’s that? I’ve got quite half a gallon.”“You have?” cried Perry. “Father will be so pleased.”“Course he will, sir,” said John Manning, with a self-satisfied smile. “‘Get every seed you can,’ he says, ‘and they’ll hardly notice you.’“‘Right, sir,’ I says, and I set to work quietly, going a bit here, and a bit there, in among the trees, making believe I was making for them cocoa-nut leaves as the Indians chew; and whenever I caught one of the Injuns watching me, I picked a leaf, and began to chew it, and nodded at him, and saidbono, bono. You should have seen how he grinned and showed his teeth at me, Master Cyril, and I could see he was thinking what a fool this Englishman was. But I wasn’t quite so stupid as he thought, eh?”“But that’s not cocoa-nut leaf,” said Cyril, “but the leaf of the coca.”“Well, sir, that’s what I say. I know it isn’t the nuts but the leaves they chew.”“But the coca leaf’s a different thing.”“Course it is, sir; one’s a leaf and t’other’s a nut.”“But, don’t you see, cocoa-nut leaf and coca leaf are different things?”“No, sir; but it don’t matter. They think I’m hunting for them leaves to chew, and they laugh at me, and all the time I’m getting a good heap of the seeds the colonel wants. ’Tain’t the first time he’s sent me to forage.”“But where are the seeds?” said Cyril.“All right, sir,” said John Manning, with a look full of cunning. “Never you put all your eggs in one basket, sir.”“Of course not; but I hope you’ve put them in a dry place. Seeds are no use if they’re not kept dry.”“They’re all right, sir. I’ve got some in each of my pockets, and some along with my cartridges in my satchel, and some inside the lining of my coat, and a lot more round my waist.”“Round your waist?” cried Cyril. “You can’t wear seeds round your waist.”John Manning chuckled once more.“Can, if you put ’em in an old stocking first, sir,” he said. “But look here, young gents, as I’m so much more lucky than you are, and know better where to go for ’em, you’d better take part o’ mine, and leave me free to fill up again.”“Yes, that will be best,” assented Perry. “I can take a lot in my pockets.”“Any one looking, sir?”“Very likely; but I shall take no notice. They won’t know what we’re changing from one pocket to the other, so let them watch.”“All right, sir; then here goes,” said the old soldier, thrusting a hand deep down into his trousers pocket, and drawing out a quantity of seed. “Here you are, sir; and I’d make believe to eat a bit in case any one is watching.”But as they were seated out of the sun, in the shade of the rough hut that had originally been put up for drying the kina bark, they were pretty well hidden from watchers, and able to carry on the transfer in comparative secrecy.“But this isn’t seed of the cinchona tree,” cried Cyril excitedly.“What!” said the old soldier sharply, and as if startled. Then altering his tone to one of easy confidence, with a dash of the supercilious. “Don’t you talk about what you can’t understand, sir. These here are what the colonel showed me, and told me to pick for him.”“They’re not the same as my father told me to pick,” cried Perry.“Well, seeing as you’re young gents, and I’m only a sarvant,” grumbled the man, “it ain’t for me to contradict, and I won’t; but I will say them’s the seeds the colonel told me to pick, and there they are, and you’d better put ’em away.”“I’m not going to put these in my pocket,” said Cyril, “for I know they’re wrong.”“And I certainly shan’t put them in mine,” said Perry.“Look here, young gents, ain’t this a bit mutinous?” said John Manning. “Colonel’s orders were that we should collect them seeds, and if you’d got the best lot, I should have helped you; but as you haven’t got the best lot, and I have, ain’t it your duty to help me?”“Yes; and so we should, if you hadn’t made a blunder.”“But I ain’t, young gents; these here are right.”“No,” said Perry. “These are right,” and he took a few seeds from his pocket.“And these,” said Cyril, following his companion’s example.“Not they,” cried John Manning warmly. “They ain’t a bit like mine.”“No, not a bit,” said Cyril triumphantly.“No, nor his ain’t like yours, Master Perry.”The boys stared, for this was a new phase of the question, and they eagerly inspected the treasures.“I’m sure I’m right,” said Perry confidently.“And I’m sure I’m right,” cried Cyril.John Manning put his arms round his knees, as he sat on the ground, and rocked himself to and fro, chuckling softly.At that point the colonel came up, and looked round wonderingly.“You’re just in time, father,” cried Perry. “Look at this seed John Manning has collected.—Show him, John.”The old soldier triumphantly pulled out a handful, and held it under the colonel’s nose.“What’s that?” said his master.“The seed you told me to forage for, sir.”“Absurd! There: throw it away.”“Throw it away, sir?”“Of course. It is not what I told you. There, take and throw it away, where the Indians see you do it, and they will pay less attention next time they see you collecting.”John Manning said nothing then, but went out of the slight hut frowning, came back, and the colonel turned to the boys.“Well,” he said, “what have you got?”They both eagerly showed a little of the seed, and the colonel uttered an ejaculation full of impatience.“No, no,” he said; “pray be careful. That is not the same as you got for me the day before yesterday.”“Not mine?” cried Perry.“No, sir; nor yours either, Cyril. They are both cinchona, but of the inferior, comparatively useless kinds.”John Manning chuckled.“But the seeds are so much alike, sir,” said Cyril.“Yes, but the broken capsules with them are not, boy. The good splits down one way, the inferior the other. There, I suppose I must give you all another lesson. Come and have a walk at once.”He led the way out, all taking their guns, in the hope of getting a little fresh provision, as well as to throw off the attention of the Indians, who smiled at them pleasantly enough, as they looked up from their tasks of cutting and peeling the bark from the trunks and branches, most of the men with their jaws working, as they chewed away at the coca leaf, which every one seemed to carry in a little pouch attached to the waist.No one seemed to pay further heed to them, but they were soon conscious that they were being watched, for an Indian was visible, when they went past the spot where their two guides were watching the browsing mules; and then, as they plunged into the forest, from time to time there was an indication that they were being well guarded, and that any attempt at evasion would result in an alarm being spread at once.Once well out among the trees, the colonel began picking leaf and flower indiscriminately, to take off the watcher’s attention; but he contrived, at the same time, to rivet the boys’ attention upon the flower and seed of the most valuable of the cinchona trees, indicating the colour of the blossom, and the peculiarities of the seed-vessels, till even John Manning declared himself perfect.“Seeds only,” said the colonel. “I give up all thought of trying to take plants. We must depend upon the seeds alone, and we ought to get a good collection before we have done.”“And then, father?” asked Perry.“Then we go back as fast as we can, if—”“If what?” asked Perry.“The Indians will let us depart.”“That’s it, sir,” put in John Manning. “What I was saying to the young gentleman this morning. They don’t mean to let us go. We’ve regularly walked into a trap.”There was silence for a few moments, the colonel frowning, as if resenting the interference of his servant, but directly after he said quietly:“I’m afraid you are right, John Manning, but we must set our wits against theirs. In another week we shall have quite sufficient of the treasured seed to satisfy me—that is, if you three are more careful—then we must start back, before our stores begin to fail.”“What about the guides, sir?” said Cyril. “They will not help us.”“No,” said the colonel. “Not the Indian guides, but I have a little English guide here, upon which we shall have to depend. There must be other passes through the mountains, and we know that our course is due west. We shall have to trust to this.”He held out a little pocket-compass as he spoke, and then, after they had added somewhat to the store of seed already collected, both boys this time making the proper selection of tree from which to gather the reproductive seeds, they walked slowly back toward the camp.But not alone: the Indians who had followed them outward, returning slowly behind them, carefully keeping far in the background, and trying to conceal the fact that they were on the watch; but it was only too plain to all that it would require a great deal of ingenuity to escape notice and get a fair start when the time came for making their escape.
“Ever see ’em ketch eels at home, Master Cyril?” said John Manning one morning.
“We used to set night lines in the lake at school,” said Cyril. “We threw the bait out ever so far, and tied the other end to a brick sunk in the water.”
“Oh yes: but I don’t mean that way, where every twopenny eel spoils four pen’orth o’ good line and hooks. I mean with an eel-trap, one of those made of osiers, so that it’s very easy to get in, but very hard to get out.”
“Yes; I saw some of those once,” cried Perry, “up by a weir. But why? There are no eels here.”
John Manning chuckled, and shook all over, as if he enjoyed what he was saying.
“Not many, sir, but quite enough. We’re the eels, and we’ve wriggled ourselves right into a trap, and there’s no getting out again.”
“It doesn’t seem as if there were,” said Cyril thoughtfully; “but we’re getting what the colonel wanted, and I don’t think the Indians have noticed it yet.”
“’Tain’t for want of looking, sir,” said the old soldier. “I go for a bit of a walk in one direction, and begin picking something, and feel a tickling about the back. ‘Some one’s eyes on me,’ I says to myself, and I go a bit farther, and feel the same tickling in front. Then one side, then t’other, and it’s always eyes watching.”
“Yes,” said Perry. “We’ve been a week here, and I get so sick of it: I never move without there being some one after me; and the worst of it is, you don’t see him coming, but find him watching you from behind a rock, or out of a bush.”
“Yes,” said Cyril, “it isn’t nice. They crawl about like snakes, and almost as quietly.”
“Don’t matter,” said John Manning, with another chuckle. “We can be as cunning as they. How have you young gents got on since the colonel give his orders?”
“Pretty well,” said Cyril. “Of course it’s of no use to try and get roots or cuttings, they look too sharp after us; but I’ve found some seed, and he has got more than I have.”
“How much have you got, both of you together?” asked the old soldier, with his eyes twinkling.
“Nearly a handful, I should say,” replied Cyril.
“A handful, sir! Why, what’s that? I’ve got quite half a gallon.”
“You have?” cried Perry. “Father will be so pleased.”
“Course he will, sir,” said John Manning, with a self-satisfied smile. “‘Get every seed you can,’ he says, ‘and they’ll hardly notice you.’
“‘Right, sir,’ I says, and I set to work quietly, going a bit here, and a bit there, in among the trees, making believe I was making for them cocoa-nut leaves as the Indians chew; and whenever I caught one of the Injuns watching me, I picked a leaf, and began to chew it, and nodded at him, and saidbono, bono. You should have seen how he grinned and showed his teeth at me, Master Cyril, and I could see he was thinking what a fool this Englishman was. But I wasn’t quite so stupid as he thought, eh?”
“But that’s not cocoa-nut leaf,” said Cyril, “but the leaf of the coca.”
“Well, sir, that’s what I say. I know it isn’t the nuts but the leaves they chew.”
“But the coca leaf’s a different thing.”
“Course it is, sir; one’s a leaf and t’other’s a nut.”
“But, don’t you see, cocoa-nut leaf and coca leaf are different things?”
“No, sir; but it don’t matter. They think I’m hunting for them leaves to chew, and they laugh at me, and all the time I’m getting a good heap of the seeds the colonel wants. ’Tain’t the first time he’s sent me to forage.”
“But where are the seeds?” said Cyril.
“All right, sir,” said John Manning, with a look full of cunning. “Never you put all your eggs in one basket, sir.”
“Of course not; but I hope you’ve put them in a dry place. Seeds are no use if they’re not kept dry.”
“They’re all right, sir. I’ve got some in each of my pockets, and some along with my cartridges in my satchel, and some inside the lining of my coat, and a lot more round my waist.”
“Round your waist?” cried Cyril. “You can’t wear seeds round your waist.”
John Manning chuckled once more.
“Can, if you put ’em in an old stocking first, sir,” he said. “But look here, young gents, as I’m so much more lucky than you are, and know better where to go for ’em, you’d better take part o’ mine, and leave me free to fill up again.”
“Yes, that will be best,” assented Perry. “I can take a lot in my pockets.”
“Any one looking, sir?”
“Very likely; but I shall take no notice. They won’t know what we’re changing from one pocket to the other, so let them watch.”
“All right, sir; then here goes,” said the old soldier, thrusting a hand deep down into his trousers pocket, and drawing out a quantity of seed. “Here you are, sir; and I’d make believe to eat a bit in case any one is watching.”
But as they were seated out of the sun, in the shade of the rough hut that had originally been put up for drying the kina bark, they were pretty well hidden from watchers, and able to carry on the transfer in comparative secrecy.
“But this isn’t seed of the cinchona tree,” cried Cyril excitedly.
“What!” said the old soldier sharply, and as if startled. Then altering his tone to one of easy confidence, with a dash of the supercilious. “Don’t you talk about what you can’t understand, sir. These here are what the colonel showed me, and told me to pick for him.”
“They’re not the same as my father told me to pick,” cried Perry.
“Well, seeing as you’re young gents, and I’m only a sarvant,” grumbled the man, “it ain’t for me to contradict, and I won’t; but I will say them’s the seeds the colonel told me to pick, and there they are, and you’d better put ’em away.”
“I’m not going to put these in my pocket,” said Cyril, “for I know they’re wrong.”
“And I certainly shan’t put them in mine,” said Perry.
“Look here, young gents, ain’t this a bit mutinous?” said John Manning. “Colonel’s orders were that we should collect them seeds, and if you’d got the best lot, I should have helped you; but as you haven’t got the best lot, and I have, ain’t it your duty to help me?”
“Yes; and so we should, if you hadn’t made a blunder.”
“But I ain’t, young gents; these here are right.”
“No,” said Perry. “These are right,” and he took a few seeds from his pocket.
“And these,” said Cyril, following his companion’s example.
“Not they,” cried John Manning warmly. “They ain’t a bit like mine.”
“No, not a bit,” said Cyril triumphantly.
“No, nor his ain’t like yours, Master Perry.”
The boys stared, for this was a new phase of the question, and they eagerly inspected the treasures.
“I’m sure I’m right,” said Perry confidently.
“And I’m sure I’m right,” cried Cyril.
John Manning put his arms round his knees, as he sat on the ground, and rocked himself to and fro, chuckling softly.
At that point the colonel came up, and looked round wonderingly.
“You’re just in time, father,” cried Perry. “Look at this seed John Manning has collected.—Show him, John.”
The old soldier triumphantly pulled out a handful, and held it under the colonel’s nose.
“What’s that?” said his master.
“The seed you told me to forage for, sir.”
“Absurd! There: throw it away.”
“Throw it away, sir?”
“Of course. It is not what I told you. There, take and throw it away, where the Indians see you do it, and they will pay less attention next time they see you collecting.”
John Manning said nothing then, but went out of the slight hut frowning, came back, and the colonel turned to the boys.
“Well,” he said, “what have you got?”
They both eagerly showed a little of the seed, and the colonel uttered an ejaculation full of impatience.
“No, no,” he said; “pray be careful. That is not the same as you got for me the day before yesterday.”
“Not mine?” cried Perry.
“No, sir; nor yours either, Cyril. They are both cinchona, but of the inferior, comparatively useless kinds.”
John Manning chuckled.
“But the seeds are so much alike, sir,” said Cyril.
“Yes, but the broken capsules with them are not, boy. The good splits down one way, the inferior the other. There, I suppose I must give you all another lesson. Come and have a walk at once.”
He led the way out, all taking their guns, in the hope of getting a little fresh provision, as well as to throw off the attention of the Indians, who smiled at them pleasantly enough, as they looked up from their tasks of cutting and peeling the bark from the trunks and branches, most of the men with their jaws working, as they chewed away at the coca leaf, which every one seemed to carry in a little pouch attached to the waist.
No one seemed to pay further heed to them, but they were soon conscious that they were being watched, for an Indian was visible, when they went past the spot where their two guides were watching the browsing mules; and then, as they plunged into the forest, from time to time there was an indication that they were being well guarded, and that any attempt at evasion would result in an alarm being spread at once.
Once well out among the trees, the colonel began picking leaf and flower indiscriminately, to take off the watcher’s attention; but he contrived, at the same time, to rivet the boys’ attention upon the flower and seed of the most valuable of the cinchona trees, indicating the colour of the blossom, and the peculiarities of the seed-vessels, till even John Manning declared himself perfect.
“Seeds only,” said the colonel. “I give up all thought of trying to take plants. We must depend upon the seeds alone, and we ought to get a good collection before we have done.”
“And then, father?” asked Perry.
“Then we go back as fast as we can, if—”
“If what?” asked Perry.
“The Indians will let us depart.”
“That’s it, sir,” put in John Manning. “What I was saying to the young gentleman this morning. They don’t mean to let us go. We’ve regularly walked into a trap.”
There was silence for a few moments, the colonel frowning, as if resenting the interference of his servant, but directly after he said quietly:
“I’m afraid you are right, John Manning, but we must set our wits against theirs. In another week we shall have quite sufficient of the treasured seed to satisfy me—that is, if you three are more careful—then we must start back, before our stores begin to fail.”
“What about the guides, sir?” said Cyril. “They will not help us.”
“No,” said the colonel. “Not the Indian guides, but I have a little English guide here, upon which we shall have to depend. There must be other passes through the mountains, and we know that our course is due west. We shall have to trust to this.”
He held out a little pocket-compass as he spoke, and then, after they had added somewhat to the store of seed already collected, both boys this time making the proper selection of tree from which to gather the reproductive seeds, they walked slowly back toward the camp.
But not alone: the Indians who had followed them outward, returning slowly behind them, carefully keeping far in the background, and trying to conceal the fact that they were on the watch; but it was only too plain to all that it would require a great deal of ingenuity to escape notice and get a fair start when the time came for making their escape.
Chapter Sixteen.Preparing for Flight.“I say, Cil, I don’t quite know what to make of it,” said Perry, a few days later. “These people are as civil and amiable as can be; they surely won’t try to stop us when we want to go?”“You wait and see,” was the reply. “They will. I know them better than you do.”“But they don’t think we have got anything to take away.”“Perhaps not; but they will think that as soon as we are out of their sight we shall be searching for and taking something away that they want to preserve, and if we do get away unseen, they will be after us directly.”“Well, we shall soon see,” said Perry rather gloomily, as he sat gazing down into a deep valley running due south, in whose depths a bright gleam here and there told of the presence of water.“Yes, we shall soon know now. Your father and John Manning have been carefully examining the mules, and going over the stores and packages.”“Have they? I didn’t know.”“I did, and then they came out here and sat for some time over their guns.”“On the lookout for birds?”“On the lookout to see if this way would do for us to escape.”Perry whistled.“Did they tell you so?”“No; but I put that and that together.”“Put why go this way? This does not lead over the mountains.”“Because the Indians will not think we should choose this route.”“But we couldn’t get over the mountains from down there.”“We must,” said Cyril quietly.“But,” said Perry, “we can’t get the mules and their loads away without Diego knowing.”“Must again,” replied Cyril. “We can’t escape without a supply of food, and we must have the mules to carry it, for we may be weeks wandering about in the gorges of the mountains. So it’s must, must, must, my lad. We’ve got it to do, and we’re going to do it.”“I say.”“Well—what?”“Do you think it will come to a fight?”“Not if your father can help it; but if it does, we shall have to do some shooting.”Perry drew his breath hard.“Don’t stare down the valley any more,” said Cyril, after a pause.“Why? It’s very beautiful.”“Because you’re watched. We’re watched always, sleeping or waking.”“Then we shall never be able to get away,” said Perry despondently.“Must, my lad. Why, we’re not going to let a pack of half-savage Indians prove too clever for us. What are you thinking about? There, let’s get back at once, or they’ll be thinking we mean something by sitting here.”Perry rose and followed his companion, who made several halts in the forest before they reached the shelter-hut, to find the colonel and John Manning away; but they returned soon after, each carrying a couple of good-sized birds, which gave a colour to their morning’s walk.This game John Manning bore off to prepare by the fire which Diego and his companion kept going night and day; and as soon as he had gone, the colonel seated himself, and looked curiously from one boy to the other.“Well Cyril,” he said sharply, “ready to go home and meet your father?”“Yes, sir,” replied the boy promptly. “I want to get it over.”“And you, Perry, ready to go back to where you can sleep in a decent bed again?”“Yes, father,” replied Perry; but there was a dubious tone to his words.“That’s right. Listen, then, both of you. I trust to you to make no sign whatever, but to go on precisely the same as usual, so as to keep the Indians in ignorance of our intentions.”“Then you are going to make a start, sir?” said Cyril eagerly.“All being well, very soon, my lad.”“But the mules, sir?”“Ah, we shall see about that,” said the colonel. “I have now got together quite as much of the seed as I dared to hope for, and it would be foolish to delay longer. These Indian labourers are only working for somebody of importance, and if whoever he may be comes and finds us here, our position may be made very unpleasant, so I have decided for us to start at dark, to-morrow evening.”This announcement caused a peculiar fluttering in the breasts of both lads, for they felt that they would not be able to get away without a struggle, since that they were detained here until some one in authority arrived, seemed certain; and they well understood how necessary it was for them to get away if possible.The rest of the day passed like a feverish dream to Cyril, whose thoughts were of a very mingled nature. On the one hand, there was the risk to be run in making their escape, and the long perilous journey before them; on the other hand, there was home at San Geronimo, and his father’s stern face rose before him, full of reproach for his conduct; and now, more than ever, he asked himself how he could have been so mad and so cruel to those who loved him, as to leave in the way he had.Too late for repentance then, as he knew, and he had to face the inevitable, and take the punishment he deserved as patiently as he could.Toward dark the boys found themselves alone with John Manning, who whispered: “Been over the arms and ammunition, gentlemen, and they’re in splendid order. Bit touched with rust, but that won’t interfere with their shooting.”“Don’t talk about it,” said Perry petulantly.“Can’t help it, sir. We’re off to-morrow night, and some of us may have to cover the retreat. You can’t do that sort o’ work without tools.”“Look here,” said Cyril eagerly. “How about the mules?”“I don’t know, sir,” replied the old soldier. “That’s the puzzle of it. But the colonel knows what he means to do, of course. I’ve been with him before, when he was going to make an advance.”“But this is a retreat,” said Cyril sharply.“What, sir? Retreat? British soldiers don’t retreat. Of course they have to make an advance the other way on sometimes. You can’t always be going in one direction; but they don’t retreat. It’ll be all right, though, sir. You’ll see: for following orders, I’ve got all the packs ready to stow on the saddles at a moment’s notice, and we shan’t leave nothing behind.”They had a hint soon after of there being a plan all ready, for the colonel came and hunted Cyril out to act as interpreter, and walked down with him to where Diego and his companion were seated, while the mules were browsing here and there, some fifty yards away.“Now, interpret as well as you can,” said the colonel. “Tell him that I am very angry about the state of the mules, which look half-starved. The feed about here is disgraceful, and all the time there is a splendid supply on the other side of the clearing, beyond where the Indians are cutting and stacking the bark.”Cyril’s voice shook a little from anxiety as he began his interpretation, but it soon grew stronger, and he gave the colonel’s wishes with so much energy that the guide looked terribly disturbed as he replied.“What does he say?” cried the colonel angrily.“That the head-man of the kina gatherers gave orders that they were to be pastured here.”“Then tell him to go to the head-man, and say I order them to be moved at once over to the other side of the huts, ready for me when I wish to go on.”Diego started off at once, and returned soon after with the head-man and about a dozen of the Indians, to whom the colonel’s wishes were repeated; and then came quite a deprecating reply that it was impossible, for the woodcutters were going in that direction the very next day, and the mules would be disturbed again.“Tell him my mules are of more consequence than his bark gatherers,” said the colonel, “and that I insist upon the mules being moved.”There was a laboured interpretation, a short buzz of conversation, and then a reply came through Diego that the head-man would obey the white chief’s orders, and remove the mules to better pasture; but it could not be there, in the place he wished.“Tell him anywhere, so long as the poor beasts are properly fed.”The colonel stalked away, with his rifle in the hollow of his arm, the Indians giving place obsequiously; but he turned back to Cyril. “Tell John Manning to stop and see where they are driven, and then come and report to me.—You two follow.”Cyril gave the colonel’s orders, and then went after him to the hut, where they sat waiting for nearly an hour before Manning arrived.“Well, where are the mules?”“They’ve driven ’em out of the bit of forest, sir, and down on the other side toward the slope of that big valley.”“Hah!” ejaculated the colonel; and then, after a pause, “The very spot.”“But you said the other side,” said Cyril; “at the back of their huts.”“Where I knew they would not have them,” said the colonel. “It looked to them, in their childish cunning, like an attempt on my part to get the animals down toward the point from which we came; and, of course, they would not do that. I hardly expected such good fortune, boys; but the mules are in the very place I wish. Now we have to devise a means of getting those mules loaded unseen, and then starting off down the valley as soon after dark to-morrow night as possible.”A long conversation followed as to those best means, and the colonel heard each one’s proposal impatiently.Perry said it was impossible, and that they must all take as much provision as they could carry, and leave the mules behind.John Manning said there was only one way of doing it, and that was for him to take the stock off one of the guns, and as soon as it was dusk creep round the camp, and catch every one of the sentries by surprise, and then club him, and bind his hands and feet.“I could stun ’em, sir, and then they couldn’t give no alarm.”“You mean, murder the poor wretches,” said the colonel quietly.“No, no, sir; not so bad as that,” grumbled the man. “These Injuns have got heads as thick as rams. More likely to spoil the gun.”“Now you, Cyril,” said the colonel quietly.“I can’t propose anything, sir,” said Cyril frankly. “It seems to me that we might pass one or two of the Indians, but the others would see or hear the mules.”“And you can propose nothing else?”Cyril shook his head, and the colonel got up and went out of the hut, to go and walk up and down where the Indians were busy, giving first one a friendly nod, and then another, evidently to their great satisfaction.The party in the hut watched him for a few moments, and then John Manning said:“There aren’t no better way, gentlemen, than mine. I don’t want to kill none of ’em, so long as they don’t try to kill me, or any of you. If they do, why, of course, it makes me feel nasty, and as if I could do anything to stop ’em.”“It’s too horrid and butcher like,” said Cyril firmly.“Yes,” assented Perry.“Very well, then, gentlemen, suppose you propose a better way. It’s of no use to go an’ say, ‘Please we’re tired of staying here, and want to go,’ because that only would be waste of breath.”“Yes,” said Perry sadly. “We shall never get away till they give us leave.”“Hear that, Mr Cyril, sir; that’s my young master, and the son of a stout soldier as never turned his back on an enemy in his life. Don’t say you’re going to give up like that, sir.”“No,” said Cyril, setting his teeth. “I’m not going to give up, and he is not going to give up either. We’ll get away somehow, though we can’t see the way just now.”“That we will, sir,” cried John Manning excitedly. “Bri’sh wits again’ Injun wits. Bah! who says we can’t beat them? It’s all right, gentlemen. I know the colonel, and have known him since he was a slip of an ensign, and I was not much more than a raw Johnny of a boy fresh from the awkward squad. I say I know the colonel, and he’s only been leading us on. Wait till to-morrow night. He’s got some dodge or another ready to fire off, and this time two days we shall be on our way back, and the Injuns’ll be howling like mad, because they can’t make out which way we’ve gone.”
“I say, Cil, I don’t quite know what to make of it,” said Perry, a few days later. “These people are as civil and amiable as can be; they surely won’t try to stop us when we want to go?”
“You wait and see,” was the reply. “They will. I know them better than you do.”
“But they don’t think we have got anything to take away.”
“Perhaps not; but they will think that as soon as we are out of their sight we shall be searching for and taking something away that they want to preserve, and if we do get away unseen, they will be after us directly.”
“Well, we shall soon see,” said Perry rather gloomily, as he sat gazing down into a deep valley running due south, in whose depths a bright gleam here and there told of the presence of water.
“Yes, we shall soon know now. Your father and John Manning have been carefully examining the mules, and going over the stores and packages.”
“Have they? I didn’t know.”
“I did, and then they came out here and sat for some time over their guns.”
“On the lookout for birds?”
“On the lookout to see if this way would do for us to escape.”
Perry whistled.
“Did they tell you so?”
“No; but I put that and that together.”
“Put why go this way? This does not lead over the mountains.”
“Because the Indians will not think we should choose this route.”
“But we couldn’t get over the mountains from down there.”
“We must,” said Cyril quietly.
“But,” said Perry, “we can’t get the mules and their loads away without Diego knowing.”
“Must again,” replied Cyril. “We can’t escape without a supply of food, and we must have the mules to carry it, for we may be weeks wandering about in the gorges of the mountains. So it’s must, must, must, my lad. We’ve got it to do, and we’re going to do it.”
“I say.”
“Well—what?”
“Do you think it will come to a fight?”
“Not if your father can help it; but if it does, we shall have to do some shooting.”
Perry drew his breath hard.
“Don’t stare down the valley any more,” said Cyril, after a pause.
“Why? It’s very beautiful.”
“Because you’re watched. We’re watched always, sleeping or waking.”
“Then we shall never be able to get away,” said Perry despondently.
“Must, my lad. Why, we’re not going to let a pack of half-savage Indians prove too clever for us. What are you thinking about? There, let’s get back at once, or they’ll be thinking we mean something by sitting here.”
Perry rose and followed his companion, who made several halts in the forest before they reached the shelter-hut, to find the colonel and John Manning away; but they returned soon after, each carrying a couple of good-sized birds, which gave a colour to their morning’s walk.
This game John Manning bore off to prepare by the fire which Diego and his companion kept going night and day; and as soon as he had gone, the colonel seated himself, and looked curiously from one boy to the other.
“Well Cyril,” he said sharply, “ready to go home and meet your father?”
“Yes, sir,” replied the boy promptly. “I want to get it over.”
“And you, Perry, ready to go back to where you can sleep in a decent bed again?”
“Yes, father,” replied Perry; but there was a dubious tone to his words.
“That’s right. Listen, then, both of you. I trust to you to make no sign whatever, but to go on precisely the same as usual, so as to keep the Indians in ignorance of our intentions.”
“Then you are going to make a start, sir?” said Cyril eagerly.
“All being well, very soon, my lad.”
“But the mules, sir?”
“Ah, we shall see about that,” said the colonel. “I have now got together quite as much of the seed as I dared to hope for, and it would be foolish to delay longer. These Indian labourers are only working for somebody of importance, and if whoever he may be comes and finds us here, our position may be made very unpleasant, so I have decided for us to start at dark, to-morrow evening.”
This announcement caused a peculiar fluttering in the breasts of both lads, for they felt that they would not be able to get away without a struggle, since that they were detained here until some one in authority arrived, seemed certain; and they well understood how necessary it was for them to get away if possible.
The rest of the day passed like a feverish dream to Cyril, whose thoughts were of a very mingled nature. On the one hand, there was the risk to be run in making their escape, and the long perilous journey before them; on the other hand, there was home at San Geronimo, and his father’s stern face rose before him, full of reproach for his conduct; and now, more than ever, he asked himself how he could have been so mad and so cruel to those who loved him, as to leave in the way he had.
Too late for repentance then, as he knew, and he had to face the inevitable, and take the punishment he deserved as patiently as he could.
Toward dark the boys found themselves alone with John Manning, who whispered: “Been over the arms and ammunition, gentlemen, and they’re in splendid order. Bit touched with rust, but that won’t interfere with their shooting.”
“Don’t talk about it,” said Perry petulantly.
“Can’t help it, sir. We’re off to-morrow night, and some of us may have to cover the retreat. You can’t do that sort o’ work without tools.”
“Look here,” said Cyril eagerly. “How about the mules?”
“I don’t know, sir,” replied the old soldier. “That’s the puzzle of it. But the colonel knows what he means to do, of course. I’ve been with him before, when he was going to make an advance.”
“But this is a retreat,” said Cyril sharply.
“What, sir? Retreat? British soldiers don’t retreat. Of course they have to make an advance the other way on sometimes. You can’t always be going in one direction; but they don’t retreat. It’ll be all right, though, sir. You’ll see: for following orders, I’ve got all the packs ready to stow on the saddles at a moment’s notice, and we shan’t leave nothing behind.”
They had a hint soon after of there being a plan all ready, for the colonel came and hunted Cyril out to act as interpreter, and walked down with him to where Diego and his companion were seated, while the mules were browsing here and there, some fifty yards away.
“Now, interpret as well as you can,” said the colonel. “Tell him that I am very angry about the state of the mules, which look half-starved. The feed about here is disgraceful, and all the time there is a splendid supply on the other side of the clearing, beyond where the Indians are cutting and stacking the bark.”
Cyril’s voice shook a little from anxiety as he began his interpretation, but it soon grew stronger, and he gave the colonel’s wishes with so much energy that the guide looked terribly disturbed as he replied.
“What does he say?” cried the colonel angrily.
“That the head-man of the kina gatherers gave orders that they were to be pastured here.”
“Then tell him to go to the head-man, and say I order them to be moved at once over to the other side of the huts, ready for me when I wish to go on.”
Diego started off at once, and returned soon after with the head-man and about a dozen of the Indians, to whom the colonel’s wishes were repeated; and then came quite a deprecating reply that it was impossible, for the woodcutters were going in that direction the very next day, and the mules would be disturbed again.
“Tell him my mules are of more consequence than his bark gatherers,” said the colonel, “and that I insist upon the mules being moved.”
There was a laboured interpretation, a short buzz of conversation, and then a reply came through Diego that the head-man would obey the white chief’s orders, and remove the mules to better pasture; but it could not be there, in the place he wished.
“Tell him anywhere, so long as the poor beasts are properly fed.”
The colonel stalked away, with his rifle in the hollow of his arm, the Indians giving place obsequiously; but he turned back to Cyril. “Tell John Manning to stop and see where they are driven, and then come and report to me.—You two follow.”
Cyril gave the colonel’s orders, and then went after him to the hut, where they sat waiting for nearly an hour before Manning arrived.
“Well, where are the mules?”
“They’ve driven ’em out of the bit of forest, sir, and down on the other side toward the slope of that big valley.”
“Hah!” ejaculated the colonel; and then, after a pause, “The very spot.”
“But you said the other side,” said Cyril; “at the back of their huts.”
“Where I knew they would not have them,” said the colonel. “It looked to them, in their childish cunning, like an attempt on my part to get the animals down toward the point from which we came; and, of course, they would not do that. I hardly expected such good fortune, boys; but the mules are in the very place I wish. Now we have to devise a means of getting those mules loaded unseen, and then starting off down the valley as soon after dark to-morrow night as possible.”
A long conversation followed as to those best means, and the colonel heard each one’s proposal impatiently.
Perry said it was impossible, and that they must all take as much provision as they could carry, and leave the mules behind.
John Manning said there was only one way of doing it, and that was for him to take the stock off one of the guns, and as soon as it was dusk creep round the camp, and catch every one of the sentries by surprise, and then club him, and bind his hands and feet.
“I could stun ’em, sir, and then they couldn’t give no alarm.”
“You mean, murder the poor wretches,” said the colonel quietly.
“No, no, sir; not so bad as that,” grumbled the man. “These Injuns have got heads as thick as rams. More likely to spoil the gun.”
“Now you, Cyril,” said the colonel quietly.
“I can’t propose anything, sir,” said Cyril frankly. “It seems to me that we might pass one or two of the Indians, but the others would see or hear the mules.”
“And you can propose nothing else?”
Cyril shook his head, and the colonel got up and went out of the hut, to go and walk up and down where the Indians were busy, giving first one a friendly nod, and then another, evidently to their great satisfaction.
The party in the hut watched him for a few moments, and then John Manning said:
“There aren’t no better way, gentlemen, than mine. I don’t want to kill none of ’em, so long as they don’t try to kill me, or any of you. If they do, why, of course, it makes me feel nasty, and as if I could do anything to stop ’em.”
“It’s too horrid and butcher like,” said Cyril firmly.
“Yes,” assented Perry.
“Very well, then, gentlemen, suppose you propose a better way. It’s of no use to go an’ say, ‘Please we’re tired of staying here, and want to go,’ because that only would be waste of breath.”
“Yes,” said Perry sadly. “We shall never get away till they give us leave.”
“Hear that, Mr Cyril, sir; that’s my young master, and the son of a stout soldier as never turned his back on an enemy in his life. Don’t say you’re going to give up like that, sir.”
“No,” said Cyril, setting his teeth. “I’m not going to give up, and he is not going to give up either. We’ll get away somehow, though we can’t see the way just now.”
“That we will, sir,” cried John Manning excitedly. “Bri’sh wits again’ Injun wits. Bah! who says we can’t beat them? It’s all right, gentlemen. I know the colonel, and have known him since he was a slip of an ensign, and I was not much more than a raw Johnny of a boy fresh from the awkward squad. I say I know the colonel, and he’s only been leading us on. Wait till to-morrow night. He’s got some dodge or another ready to fire off, and this time two days we shall be on our way back, and the Injuns’ll be howling like mad, because they can’t make out which way we’ve gone.”