Chapter Twenty Seven.

Chapter Twenty Seven.Ready for the Worst.Nature must be satisfied at whatever cost, and, as soon as possible, the provisions were unpacked, while a fire, which had been lit with the scraps of wood collected as they returned, burned brightly, the smoke drawing farther into the cavern, and being rapidly dispersed. Then, as soon as the kettle, suspended by an iron rod over the flames, began to boil, a very small handful of tea was thrown in, and the tin lifted off and laid aside.Only some very wooden cake bread, and some very dry tough beef, with a strong flavour of being imperfectly sun-cured; but how delicious it was when washed down by the warm, unsweetened, milkless tea!They sat on the stones a little way inside the entrance, where the cool dampness of the cave was relieved by the soft, warm, sunny air which floated in from the gorge; and a sharp lookout was kept for the Indians, but not a sign betrayed their presence. A short exploration of the interior, too, was made, but there was not a sound to be heard, save an impatient stamp or two from the mules; and, concluding that the enemy had all left the place, the colonel returned to where he had left the boys on guard, but only to find them both fast asleep, and John Manning walking up and down slowly by the stream, with his gun over his shoulder.“Don’t wake ’em, sir,” said the man appealingly: “they tried very hard to hold up, but it warn’t to be done; and if I hadn’t got up and taken to marching here on sentry-go, I should have been fast asleep too.”“Poor fellows,” said the colonel sadly, “it was too much to expect after what they have gone through. There, lie down for a couple of hours, and then I’ll wake you to relieve me.”“Begging your pardon, sir, if you’d take first turn,” began the old soldier, but he was cut short directly by a sharp gesture, and, without a word, he lay down with his piece in his hand, and was asleep directly. The colonel took his place, and then began to walk slowly to and fro, now right out where the sinking sun glistened upon the surface of the stream, now back inward, with the walk growing darker, till it was quite black.And as he marched to and fro, the colonel reflected upon the hopelessness of their position. As he approached the open sunshine, he felt lighter-hearted; but as he turned and walked inward toward the cold and darkness, his spirits sank once more, and he saw no way out of their difficulties save the giving up of that for which he had come all those many thousand miles. Then he stopped short, for Cyril had suddenly sprung to his feet, looking horribly guilty and ashamed.“I am so sorry, sir,” he faltered. “I did not mean to go to sleep.”“You could not help it, my lad,” said the colonel, laying his hand upon the boy’s shoulder. “You had reached the limit of human endurance. But, Cyril, my lad, you are being sharply punished for your mad escapade.”“Yes, sir,” said the boy sadly, “and I suppose I deserve it. I should mind all this much less if we had arranged with my father that I should come.”“Well done, young philosopher,” said the colonel, as he kept his hand on the lad’s shoulder, and marched him to and fro. “Come, as you can think so well, give me your advice. You know why I have come—to obtain this seed to place in the hands of those who will cultivate it, and make the world independent of the one source of supply.”“Yes, sir,” said Cyril wonderingly.“And you see the position to which I am reduced.”“Yes, sir. Will the Indians kill us?”“Not without paying dearly for it,” said the colonel sternly. Then changing his manner: “No, my lad. These people are only half-savage, and look upon what they are doing as a duty. I do not think they will kill us if they can get possession of all our baggage. They might keep us in captivity until means are taken to free us; but I don’t know—I hardly feel that our lives are safe.”“Not very, sir,” said Cyril grimly, “if they rolled big stones. It might have been us instead of the mules this morning.”“Yes, we have had some narrow escapes; but what shall I do now—give up and own that I am beaten?”“And let them have the kina seed, sir? No, that I wouldn’t; I’d fight for it first,” cried Cyril excitedly.“Do you know what you are talking about?” said the colonel excitedly.“Yes, sir,” cried Cyril, “I was very much down a while ago; but I’ve had something to eat now, and a sleep and—What! give up to a pack of savages, and let them rob you of all we have worked so hard to get? That I wouldn’t while there was a charge of powder left.”“Humph!” ejaculated the colonel, looking at the boy searchingly.“That’s what my father would say if he were here. I wish he were.”“To thrash you for leaving home in that cowardly way?”“No, sir,” said Cyril quietly. “My father never thrashed me, and he never would. He always said it was degrading a boy to beat him, and that he was a poor parent who could not rule his children without blows. He told me he thought he could hurt me a good deal more by his words, and so he always could.”“Perhaps so, sir,” said the colonel sternly; “but see what a mistake he has made, and what a miserable young dog you have turned out.”Cyril was silent for a few moments.“I hope I’m not all bad, sir,” he said. “I’m sure I’ve bitterly repented what I have done.”“And been severely punished, too, my lad,” said the colonel kindly. “Your father is quite right, and when I tell him how you have behaved—as, please God, I hope I shall—if he is the man I believe him to be, he will shake hands with you as I do now, and say, ‘Let’s forget the past!’”“Colonel Campion!” cried Cyril, snatching at the hand extended to him.He could say no more, for something seemed to rise in his throat and choke him, while the colonel rested his arm affectionately upon his shoulder once more, and walked him up and down toward the light and back again.“So you’d fight for it and stand out, eh?” said the colonel at last.“Yes, sir, that I would,” cried Cyril excitedly, “and I’m sure Perry will say the same.”The colonel was silent for a few moments, gazing straight before him into the darkness, and he asked himself whether he would be justified in running all these risks. He shook his head, and they turned and marched down again toward the light, where the rippling stream looked rosy in the evening, and the rocks on the other side of the gorge were all aglow. And there was so much in the brightness and hope and prospect of success that the feelings of dread, the shrinking from a terrible ordeal, and all hesitation fled away.“Yes,” he said firmly as he stopped short; “a civilian might hesitate and give up, but I cannot, my lad. I determined to carry out this task, believing that by it I should vastly benefit suffering humanity at large, and Heaven helping me, I will achieve my aims.”“And you will fight it out, sir?” cried Cyril.“I will, my boy, to the bitter end. I made the Indians fear me, and if they attack us now, they shall fear me more, for I have our lives to save as well. Now, go and lie down.”“No, sir, I don’t feel sleepy; let me watch with you.”“You are a soldier for the time being, my lad, and if we are to succeed, discipline must be observed. In an hour’s time I rouse up John Manning to relieve me, and toward morning, when you are rested and refreshed, you shall be called to take your watch.”Cyril lay down without a word, meaning to think out all that had been said, and feeling happier than he had since he left home. But he did not think, for in a few seconds after he had stretched his weary limbs upon the rocky floor, all the corners and points of his bed became soft as eider-down, and he dropped into a deep dreamless sleep, leaving the colonel seated on a rock, leaning forward with his gun between his legs, and his form looking black against the soft glowing light at the entrance of the cave.

Nature must be satisfied at whatever cost, and, as soon as possible, the provisions were unpacked, while a fire, which had been lit with the scraps of wood collected as they returned, burned brightly, the smoke drawing farther into the cavern, and being rapidly dispersed. Then, as soon as the kettle, suspended by an iron rod over the flames, began to boil, a very small handful of tea was thrown in, and the tin lifted off and laid aside.

Only some very wooden cake bread, and some very dry tough beef, with a strong flavour of being imperfectly sun-cured; but how delicious it was when washed down by the warm, unsweetened, milkless tea!

They sat on the stones a little way inside the entrance, where the cool dampness of the cave was relieved by the soft, warm, sunny air which floated in from the gorge; and a sharp lookout was kept for the Indians, but not a sign betrayed their presence. A short exploration of the interior, too, was made, but there was not a sound to be heard, save an impatient stamp or two from the mules; and, concluding that the enemy had all left the place, the colonel returned to where he had left the boys on guard, but only to find them both fast asleep, and John Manning walking up and down slowly by the stream, with his gun over his shoulder.

“Don’t wake ’em, sir,” said the man appealingly: “they tried very hard to hold up, but it warn’t to be done; and if I hadn’t got up and taken to marching here on sentry-go, I should have been fast asleep too.”

“Poor fellows,” said the colonel sadly, “it was too much to expect after what they have gone through. There, lie down for a couple of hours, and then I’ll wake you to relieve me.”

“Begging your pardon, sir, if you’d take first turn,” began the old soldier, but he was cut short directly by a sharp gesture, and, without a word, he lay down with his piece in his hand, and was asleep directly. The colonel took his place, and then began to walk slowly to and fro, now right out where the sinking sun glistened upon the surface of the stream, now back inward, with the walk growing darker, till it was quite black.

And as he marched to and fro, the colonel reflected upon the hopelessness of their position. As he approached the open sunshine, he felt lighter-hearted; but as he turned and walked inward toward the cold and darkness, his spirits sank once more, and he saw no way out of their difficulties save the giving up of that for which he had come all those many thousand miles. Then he stopped short, for Cyril had suddenly sprung to his feet, looking horribly guilty and ashamed.

“I am so sorry, sir,” he faltered. “I did not mean to go to sleep.”

“You could not help it, my lad,” said the colonel, laying his hand upon the boy’s shoulder. “You had reached the limit of human endurance. But, Cyril, my lad, you are being sharply punished for your mad escapade.”

“Yes, sir,” said the boy sadly, “and I suppose I deserve it. I should mind all this much less if we had arranged with my father that I should come.”

“Well done, young philosopher,” said the colonel, as he kept his hand on the lad’s shoulder, and marched him to and fro. “Come, as you can think so well, give me your advice. You know why I have come—to obtain this seed to place in the hands of those who will cultivate it, and make the world independent of the one source of supply.”

“Yes, sir,” said Cyril wonderingly.

“And you see the position to which I am reduced.”

“Yes, sir. Will the Indians kill us?”

“Not without paying dearly for it,” said the colonel sternly. Then changing his manner: “No, my lad. These people are only half-savage, and look upon what they are doing as a duty. I do not think they will kill us if they can get possession of all our baggage. They might keep us in captivity until means are taken to free us; but I don’t know—I hardly feel that our lives are safe.”

“Not very, sir,” said Cyril grimly, “if they rolled big stones. It might have been us instead of the mules this morning.”

“Yes, we have had some narrow escapes; but what shall I do now—give up and own that I am beaten?”

“And let them have the kina seed, sir? No, that I wouldn’t; I’d fight for it first,” cried Cyril excitedly.

“Do you know what you are talking about?” said the colonel excitedly.

“Yes, sir,” cried Cyril, “I was very much down a while ago; but I’ve had something to eat now, and a sleep and—What! give up to a pack of savages, and let them rob you of all we have worked so hard to get? That I wouldn’t while there was a charge of powder left.”

“Humph!” ejaculated the colonel, looking at the boy searchingly.

“That’s what my father would say if he were here. I wish he were.”

“To thrash you for leaving home in that cowardly way?”

“No, sir,” said Cyril quietly. “My father never thrashed me, and he never would. He always said it was degrading a boy to beat him, and that he was a poor parent who could not rule his children without blows. He told me he thought he could hurt me a good deal more by his words, and so he always could.”

“Perhaps so, sir,” said the colonel sternly; “but see what a mistake he has made, and what a miserable young dog you have turned out.”

Cyril was silent for a few moments.

“I hope I’m not all bad, sir,” he said. “I’m sure I’ve bitterly repented what I have done.”

“And been severely punished, too, my lad,” said the colonel kindly. “Your father is quite right, and when I tell him how you have behaved—as, please God, I hope I shall—if he is the man I believe him to be, he will shake hands with you as I do now, and say, ‘Let’s forget the past!’”

“Colonel Campion!” cried Cyril, snatching at the hand extended to him.

He could say no more, for something seemed to rise in his throat and choke him, while the colonel rested his arm affectionately upon his shoulder once more, and walked him up and down toward the light and back again.

“So you’d fight for it and stand out, eh?” said the colonel at last.

“Yes, sir, that I would,” cried Cyril excitedly, “and I’m sure Perry will say the same.”

The colonel was silent for a few moments, gazing straight before him into the darkness, and he asked himself whether he would be justified in running all these risks. He shook his head, and they turned and marched down again toward the light, where the rippling stream looked rosy in the evening, and the rocks on the other side of the gorge were all aglow. And there was so much in the brightness and hope and prospect of success that the feelings of dread, the shrinking from a terrible ordeal, and all hesitation fled away.

“Yes,” he said firmly as he stopped short; “a civilian might hesitate and give up, but I cannot, my lad. I determined to carry out this task, believing that by it I should vastly benefit suffering humanity at large, and Heaven helping me, I will achieve my aims.”

“And you will fight it out, sir?” cried Cyril.

“I will, my boy, to the bitter end. I made the Indians fear me, and if they attack us now, they shall fear me more, for I have our lives to save as well. Now, go and lie down.”

“No, sir, I don’t feel sleepy; let me watch with you.”

“You are a soldier for the time being, my lad, and if we are to succeed, discipline must be observed. In an hour’s time I rouse up John Manning to relieve me, and toward morning, when you are rested and refreshed, you shall be called to take your watch.”

Cyril lay down without a word, meaning to think out all that had been said, and feeling happier than he had since he left home. But he did not think, for in a few seconds after he had stretched his weary limbs upon the rocky floor, all the corners and points of his bed became soft as eider-down, and he dropped into a deep dreamless sleep, leaving the colonel seated on a rock, leaning forward with his gun between his legs, and his form looking black against the soft glowing light at the entrance of the cave.

Chapter Twenty Eight.Nature is Mistress.“I haven’t slept long,” thought Cyril as he woke with a start to see the colonel seated as he had left him when sleep came. He did not appear to have moved, and all was perfectly still. One thing, however, puzzled him, and that was the light. It was soft and warm and glowing then; now it was clear and bright.All at once he saw something come into sight from the side and stand looking in. It was the old leading mule, and it stood there munching away at a tuft of green stuff which it held in its teeth, and then dropped, and stooped its head to take a long drink of water.“Have the Indians gone?” thought Cyril, “and has the colonel let the mules out to feed?”He sat up for a moment or two, and then lay down again.“I may as well sleep till I am called,” he thought, and he lay listening to the heavy breathing of John Manning and Perry, whom he could see lying in precisely the same position as when he lay down a few minutes before.But was it a few minutes before? Cyril asked himself as he saw the mule lift its head with the water dripping from its lips, and then pick up the tuft of green twigs, and go on munching again. It could not have been longer, for the colonel had not been relieved yet; but the light was so strange. Last time he looked, the opposite side of the gorge was glowing with the sunset rays; now it was in shadow, and the sun was shining just inside the mouth of the cave, and making the water flash like molten silver.The mule stared in toward him, and Cyril made a bull, as a sudden thought flashed through his mind.“Why, it’s to-morrow morning!” he mentally exclaimed as he started up, “and I’ve been asleep all this time.”He went to where the colonel sat, and though the stones rattled a little beneath his feet, the watcher did not stir, but sat as if gazing straight out past the mule, when Cyril said reproachfully:“You shouldn’t have let me sleep so long, sir.”But there was no answer, and at that moment there was a dull sound, a whinnying sigh, as the mule gave a violent start, throwing out its legs in all directions, and scattering the stones before gathering itself together, and making a tremendous leap to go galloping away, not so quickly, though, but that Cyril saw it had a long arrow sticking in its back.“What’s that? Who? You, Cyril?” cried the colonel, springing to his feet. “What! Have I been to sleep?”“I don’t know, sir; I only just woke up.”“Why, it’s morning,” cried the colonel angrily. “What was that noise?”“The old mule. Some one shot an arrow, and stuck it in her back.”“But how came it there? I—I—Ah! and I blamed you, boy, for falling asleep at your post.”“Anything the matter, sir?” said John Manning, coming forward, followed hastily by Berry.“Matter, man; yes. I have kept watch by sleeping all night.”“Well, sir, I don’t wonder,” said the man. “I have too, for you didn’t call me to go on duty.”“Oh, shame!” exclaimed the colonel. “And at a time like this!”“I don’t see no shame in it, sir,” growled John Manning bluntly. “You wanted sleep like the rest of us, and you couldn’t fight against it. You ain’t an iron man, sir.”“Silence, sir!” cried the colonel angrily, and he hurried right out of the cave, closely followed by the boys, in time to see the mule disappear low down the gorge, galloping madly among the stones.“Another—our most valuable pack mule gone,” cried the colonel, in a voice full of the anger and annoyance he felt. “The poor brute must have strayed out to graze.”“Yes, sir; I saw it eating when I awoke, and then directly after the arrow struck it.”“Then the Indians must be close at hand. Come back and help to secure the rest of the mules, or they may be straying out after their leader.”Cyril looked in the colonel’s face, and then pointed down the valley at something moving, plainly seen now in the clear morning atmosphere.“Yes; I see it. One moment till I focus the glass.”The colonel held his little double glass to his eye, and then let his hand fall to his side in dismay on learning that the mischief was worse than he had anticipated, for there was another mule on the far slope; and just then John Manning came up with Perry from an expedition within the cave.“Yes: what is it?” cried the colonel sharply.“Sorry to have to report it, sir,” said Manning, in a low deep growl, “but the mules have strayed out in the night.”“All?” said the colonel hoarsely. “Is there not one left?”“No, sir; as far as I can make out, not one.”The colonel’s brows knit, and he stood motionless for a few moments. Then without a word he walked right in to where it was quite dark.“Light the lantern,” he said sharply, and in a few moments a match gleamed out, and the candle was soon after shedding its rays in all directions. But hardly had John Manning given a glance round, than he uttered a sharp ejaculation.“What is it?” cried the colonel. “Can you see the rest of the mules?”“No, sir.”“Well, what is it?” cried the colonel impatiently.“Don’t you see, father?” cried Perry excitedly; “the Indians must have crept in while we slept. They have carried everything away.”“What?” raged out the colonel as he looked wildly round where his servant was holding up the lantern, and then he uttered a groan.For it was too true. Every pack had gone, and with them the possibility of holding out against the cunning enemy who had been in their midst.The same thoughts came to each of the boys—thoughts of all they had heard before setting out, of those who ventured into the mountains in search of the Incas’ treasures never being heard of more, and a curious chilling feeling of despair came over them.Would they ever see home again?But the colonel was not the man to give way to despair. The position was terrible—right out there amid the gigantic mountains, with the only roads through them those naturally formed by the torrents in the wild deep gorges, shut in by precipices of the most stupendous nature, with no other guide than their compass, and surrounded by enemies who might at any moment make an attack; while, so far from being able to make a prolonged defence now, the Indians had robbed them of the means.This was the position as it struck them all at first, but the colonel gave it a different aspect directly.“Council of war,” he said cheerily, as he led the way out into the sunshine, and sat down upon a block of stone. “Come, Perry lad, a soldier’s son must not look like that as soon as he is face to face with difficulties. John Manning will tell you that he and I have been in worse straits than this up in the hill-country.—Eh, Manning?”“Of course, sir. This is nothing. Such a fine morning, too. Why, if the snow lay twenty foot deep, as we’ve seen it, and we didn’t know whether we had any fingers or toes, we might begin to holler.”“Of course,” said the colonel. “So let’s see what is to be done.”The two boys exchanged glances, but said nothing.“Now, then,” cried the colonel, “let’s look the worst straight in the face, and then we will calculate our advantages. First of all, the enemy.”“None in sight, sir,” said John Manning.“No; they have gone. They have achieved their aim in getting possession of our baggage.”“Don’t you think they’ll attack us, sir?” said Cyril.“No, certainly not. They have been here, and found us asleep. Had they wished to slay us, there we were at their mercy, and not a hair of our heads has been touched. Next trouble.”“Walked off with all the wittle, sir,” growled John Manning.“Yes, that’s bad; but we have plenty of water, and shall not fail in our journeyings for that. Bad thing to be journeying through a wild country with not a drop of water, eh, Manning? We have done that.”“Don’t talk about it, sir. And the sun all the time drying the very marrow out of your bones.”“Yes, those were terrible times, my man. We shall not suffer that way, and as to food, we have our guns. What about ammunition?”“All got plenty, sir,” growled John Manning. “I’ve seen every morning that our pouches were full.”“That’s right, then. With a little hunting, we must find some game in these valleys, scarce as it has been. Then there is the coca leaf, whose virtues we must try, failing anything better. Oh, come, we are not so very badly off.”“Then you will try at once to make for one of the tracks through the mountains, sir?” said Cyril.“And live by hunting, father?” cried Perry.“And give up, after trying so long, and being so near success, my boy?” said the colonel. “Come, come: Britons would not have made their name known all over the world if they had gone on like that.”“Look here,” cried Cyril excitedly; and then he stopped and looked doubtingly at the colonel.“Well, I’m waiting, my lad. Every suggestion has its value at a time like this. Speak out.”“I’m afraid you’ll think the idea too wild, sir.”“I will say so if it is, my boy. Let’s have it.”“I thought this, sir,” said Cyril hesitatingly: “we’re well-armed; the Indians are afraid of you, and they are most likely retreating back to their camp with our mules and baggage, along with the seed we worked so hard to get.”He stopped again, and looked from one to the other, very red in the face all the time.“Well, go on,” said the colonel encouragingly.“Why not show them we’re not a bit afraid, and go on in pursuit of them at once? I don’t believe they’d fight, and if they did—well, we should have to do the same.”“Hooray!” shouted John Manning, throwing up his cap, catching it again, and then drawing himself up stiffly as he glanced at the colonel: “Beg pardon, sir.”The colonel merely nodded, but said to himself: “I wish Percy had spoken like that.” Then turning to Cyril: “You said, why not go in pursuit?”“Yes, sir,” said Cyril, throwing off his hesitation, and speaking now with his eyes sparkling, and cheeks flushed with excitement. “Why not?”“Exactly, my boy, why not?” said the colonel. “We were caught unawares, and I have blamed myself, an old soldier, severely for the greatest lapse of which an officer can be guilty—eh, John Manning?—sleeping on duty in face of the enemy.”“Awful bad, sir, in time of war.”“Yes, but there are bounds to human nature’s endurance, John Manning; and though I would not own it to myself, I was utterly exhausted.”“All was, sir.”“Then now we must make up for it.—Cyril, my lad, you have proposed exactly what I intended to do. Fortunately, we made a good meal last night. To-day we must feast again when we have retaken the baggage.—All ready? Fall in.”The boys followed the colonel’s example, and leaped to their feet.“Light marching order,” said the colonel, “so we ought to get along fast. That mule we saw, Cyril, shows that the others have been taken down the valley toward the great fall. There is no choice of road here, so I take it that the Indians are making their way straight back to their camp. Now, one word more. See that your weapons are ready for immediate use; no talking, but keep all your energies devoted to making observations in every direction. No rift or ravine likely to hide the enemy must be passed, if it is one possible for mules to climb. Now, forward.”Then with a feeling of exhilaration that the boys could hardly comprehend, the little party started off with the colonel leading, and John Manning with his gun over his shoulder marching last, with a look in his face that suggested his feeling that he was guarding the rear of a column of advance once again.

“I haven’t slept long,” thought Cyril as he woke with a start to see the colonel seated as he had left him when sleep came. He did not appear to have moved, and all was perfectly still. One thing, however, puzzled him, and that was the light. It was soft and warm and glowing then; now it was clear and bright.

All at once he saw something come into sight from the side and stand looking in. It was the old leading mule, and it stood there munching away at a tuft of green stuff which it held in its teeth, and then dropped, and stooped its head to take a long drink of water.

“Have the Indians gone?” thought Cyril, “and has the colonel let the mules out to feed?”

He sat up for a moment or two, and then lay down again.

“I may as well sleep till I am called,” he thought, and he lay listening to the heavy breathing of John Manning and Perry, whom he could see lying in precisely the same position as when he lay down a few minutes before.

But was it a few minutes before? Cyril asked himself as he saw the mule lift its head with the water dripping from its lips, and then pick up the tuft of green twigs, and go on munching again. It could not have been longer, for the colonel had not been relieved yet; but the light was so strange. Last time he looked, the opposite side of the gorge was glowing with the sunset rays; now it was in shadow, and the sun was shining just inside the mouth of the cave, and making the water flash like molten silver.

The mule stared in toward him, and Cyril made a bull, as a sudden thought flashed through his mind.

“Why, it’s to-morrow morning!” he mentally exclaimed as he started up, “and I’ve been asleep all this time.”

He went to where the colonel sat, and though the stones rattled a little beneath his feet, the watcher did not stir, but sat as if gazing straight out past the mule, when Cyril said reproachfully:

“You shouldn’t have let me sleep so long, sir.”

But there was no answer, and at that moment there was a dull sound, a whinnying sigh, as the mule gave a violent start, throwing out its legs in all directions, and scattering the stones before gathering itself together, and making a tremendous leap to go galloping away, not so quickly, though, but that Cyril saw it had a long arrow sticking in its back.

“What’s that? Who? You, Cyril?” cried the colonel, springing to his feet. “What! Have I been to sleep?”

“I don’t know, sir; I only just woke up.”

“Why, it’s morning,” cried the colonel angrily. “What was that noise?”

“The old mule. Some one shot an arrow, and stuck it in her back.”

“But how came it there? I—I—Ah! and I blamed you, boy, for falling asleep at your post.”

“Anything the matter, sir?” said John Manning, coming forward, followed hastily by Berry.

“Matter, man; yes. I have kept watch by sleeping all night.”

“Well, sir, I don’t wonder,” said the man. “I have too, for you didn’t call me to go on duty.”

“Oh, shame!” exclaimed the colonel. “And at a time like this!”

“I don’t see no shame in it, sir,” growled John Manning bluntly. “You wanted sleep like the rest of us, and you couldn’t fight against it. You ain’t an iron man, sir.”

“Silence, sir!” cried the colonel angrily, and he hurried right out of the cave, closely followed by the boys, in time to see the mule disappear low down the gorge, galloping madly among the stones.

“Another—our most valuable pack mule gone,” cried the colonel, in a voice full of the anger and annoyance he felt. “The poor brute must have strayed out to graze.”

“Yes, sir; I saw it eating when I awoke, and then directly after the arrow struck it.”

“Then the Indians must be close at hand. Come back and help to secure the rest of the mules, or they may be straying out after their leader.”

Cyril looked in the colonel’s face, and then pointed down the valley at something moving, plainly seen now in the clear morning atmosphere.

“Yes; I see it. One moment till I focus the glass.”

The colonel held his little double glass to his eye, and then let his hand fall to his side in dismay on learning that the mischief was worse than he had anticipated, for there was another mule on the far slope; and just then John Manning came up with Perry from an expedition within the cave.

“Yes: what is it?” cried the colonel sharply.

“Sorry to have to report it, sir,” said Manning, in a low deep growl, “but the mules have strayed out in the night.”

“All?” said the colonel hoarsely. “Is there not one left?”

“No, sir; as far as I can make out, not one.”

The colonel’s brows knit, and he stood motionless for a few moments. Then without a word he walked right in to where it was quite dark.

“Light the lantern,” he said sharply, and in a few moments a match gleamed out, and the candle was soon after shedding its rays in all directions. But hardly had John Manning given a glance round, than he uttered a sharp ejaculation.

“What is it?” cried the colonel. “Can you see the rest of the mules?”

“No, sir.”

“Well, what is it?” cried the colonel impatiently.

“Don’t you see, father?” cried Perry excitedly; “the Indians must have crept in while we slept. They have carried everything away.”

“What?” raged out the colonel as he looked wildly round where his servant was holding up the lantern, and then he uttered a groan.

For it was too true. Every pack had gone, and with them the possibility of holding out against the cunning enemy who had been in their midst.

The same thoughts came to each of the boys—thoughts of all they had heard before setting out, of those who ventured into the mountains in search of the Incas’ treasures never being heard of more, and a curious chilling feeling of despair came over them.

Would they ever see home again?

But the colonel was not the man to give way to despair. The position was terrible—right out there amid the gigantic mountains, with the only roads through them those naturally formed by the torrents in the wild deep gorges, shut in by precipices of the most stupendous nature, with no other guide than their compass, and surrounded by enemies who might at any moment make an attack; while, so far from being able to make a prolonged defence now, the Indians had robbed them of the means.

This was the position as it struck them all at first, but the colonel gave it a different aspect directly.

“Council of war,” he said cheerily, as he led the way out into the sunshine, and sat down upon a block of stone. “Come, Perry lad, a soldier’s son must not look like that as soon as he is face to face with difficulties. John Manning will tell you that he and I have been in worse straits than this up in the hill-country.—Eh, Manning?”

“Of course, sir. This is nothing. Such a fine morning, too. Why, if the snow lay twenty foot deep, as we’ve seen it, and we didn’t know whether we had any fingers or toes, we might begin to holler.”

“Of course,” said the colonel. “So let’s see what is to be done.”

The two boys exchanged glances, but said nothing.

“Now, then,” cried the colonel, “let’s look the worst straight in the face, and then we will calculate our advantages. First of all, the enemy.”

“None in sight, sir,” said John Manning.

“No; they have gone. They have achieved their aim in getting possession of our baggage.”

“Don’t you think they’ll attack us, sir?” said Cyril.

“No, certainly not. They have been here, and found us asleep. Had they wished to slay us, there we were at their mercy, and not a hair of our heads has been touched. Next trouble.”

“Walked off with all the wittle, sir,” growled John Manning.

“Yes, that’s bad; but we have plenty of water, and shall not fail in our journeyings for that. Bad thing to be journeying through a wild country with not a drop of water, eh, Manning? We have done that.”

“Don’t talk about it, sir. And the sun all the time drying the very marrow out of your bones.”

“Yes, those were terrible times, my man. We shall not suffer that way, and as to food, we have our guns. What about ammunition?”

“All got plenty, sir,” growled John Manning. “I’ve seen every morning that our pouches were full.”

“That’s right, then. With a little hunting, we must find some game in these valleys, scarce as it has been. Then there is the coca leaf, whose virtues we must try, failing anything better. Oh, come, we are not so very badly off.”

“Then you will try at once to make for one of the tracks through the mountains, sir?” said Cyril.

“And live by hunting, father?” cried Perry.

“And give up, after trying so long, and being so near success, my boy?” said the colonel. “Come, come: Britons would not have made their name known all over the world if they had gone on like that.”

“Look here,” cried Cyril excitedly; and then he stopped and looked doubtingly at the colonel.

“Well, I’m waiting, my lad. Every suggestion has its value at a time like this. Speak out.”

“I’m afraid you’ll think the idea too wild, sir.”

“I will say so if it is, my boy. Let’s have it.”

“I thought this, sir,” said Cyril hesitatingly: “we’re well-armed; the Indians are afraid of you, and they are most likely retreating back to their camp with our mules and baggage, along with the seed we worked so hard to get.”

He stopped again, and looked from one to the other, very red in the face all the time.

“Well, go on,” said the colonel encouragingly.

“Why not show them we’re not a bit afraid, and go on in pursuit of them at once? I don’t believe they’d fight, and if they did—well, we should have to do the same.”

“Hooray!” shouted John Manning, throwing up his cap, catching it again, and then drawing himself up stiffly as he glanced at the colonel: “Beg pardon, sir.”

The colonel merely nodded, but said to himself: “I wish Percy had spoken like that.” Then turning to Cyril: “You said, why not go in pursuit?”

“Yes, sir,” said Cyril, throwing off his hesitation, and speaking now with his eyes sparkling, and cheeks flushed with excitement. “Why not?”

“Exactly, my boy, why not?” said the colonel. “We were caught unawares, and I have blamed myself, an old soldier, severely for the greatest lapse of which an officer can be guilty—eh, John Manning?—sleeping on duty in face of the enemy.”

“Awful bad, sir, in time of war.”

“Yes, but there are bounds to human nature’s endurance, John Manning; and though I would not own it to myself, I was utterly exhausted.”

“All was, sir.”

“Then now we must make up for it.—Cyril, my lad, you have proposed exactly what I intended to do. Fortunately, we made a good meal last night. To-day we must feast again when we have retaken the baggage.—All ready? Fall in.”

The boys followed the colonel’s example, and leaped to their feet.

“Light marching order,” said the colonel, “so we ought to get along fast. That mule we saw, Cyril, shows that the others have been taken down the valley toward the great fall. There is no choice of road here, so I take it that the Indians are making their way straight back to their camp. Now, one word more. See that your weapons are ready for immediate use; no talking, but keep all your energies devoted to making observations in every direction. No rift or ravine likely to hide the enemy must be passed, if it is one possible for mules to climb. Now, forward.”

Then with a feeling of exhilaration that the boys could hardly comprehend, the little party started off with the colonel leading, and John Manning with his gun over his shoulder marching last, with a look in his face that suggested his feeling that he was guarding the rear of a column of advance once again.

Chapter Twenty Nine.A Military Movement.At the first spot which gave him an opportunity to examine the gorge, the colonel mounted to a narrow shelf and made good use of his glass, descending at last to say: “They have got a good start of us, but there is something about a quarter of a mile on that I can’t make out. Forward cautiously.”Five minutes later the colonel halted again and sent Perry to the left, close up under that side of the gorge; Cyril to the right, with orders to advance in a line with him, and be ready to fire if there were any need.It was quite a military movement, and the boys’ hearts beat heavily at what seemed like the first initiation in real warfare; but before they had gone far Cyril uttered a shout, and pointed forward to something now hidden from the colonel by a cluster of rocks in the lowest part of the ravine, close to where the river ran with a deep-toned roar far below.A minute later they were alongside the object, which proved to be the leader, lying as near as it could get to the deep gash in which the water was foaming. The poor wounded beast had in its struggles broken the long arrow nearly level with its skin, and in its agony of thirst it had been trying to reach the water, but fallen upon its side.As Cyril came close up, the mule raised its head and uttered a piteous whinnying noise, looking up in the face of one who had many a time broken off some green spray of juicy growth to feed it as it trudged along with its load; but its eyes were already glazing, and it was the poor creature’s last effort, for the head fell back heavily: there was a curious quivering of the legs, which struck out once as if their owner were galloping, and then all was still.“Poor brute,” said the colonel. “We cannot bury it, for there is no soil here, even if we had tools. Forward, my lads.”He led on, and the boys followed, feeling low-spirited; but they soon had something else to think about, for just as they were approaching one of the narrowest parts of the gorge, Perry stopped short.“Where’s John Manning?” he said.Cyril followed suit, but no sign of the old soldier met his eyes, and they communicated with the colonel, who looked very anxious and much disturbed.“We must return,” he said. “Why, boys, you ought to have kept in touch with him. Double.”They all started back, but before they had gone a hundred yards the colonel cried “Halt;” for there in the distance was the missing man coming on at a rate which meant that he would soon overtake them.“Did you see what he has been doing?” said Cyril, as they were once more on the march.“Been stopping to get something,” said Perry, “but I could not see what. Could you?”“Ugh! Yes,” said Cyril, with a shudder of disgust. “He doesn’t want for us to be starved, but who’s going to eat mule?”The tramp was long and tedious, but being no longer controlled by the pace of the baggage animals, the little party made far better progress than when they were making their way up the valley; yet the distance they had come was far greater than they had anticipated, and for long enough there was no sign of the Indians having passed that way. But they kept on, the colonel feeling convinced that they had passed no side ravine up which the mules could have been driven; while, having these animals at their command, the colonel felt certain that the Indians would not carry the loads.At last, during the hottest part of the afternoon, a halt was called, and they made for a huge rock which overhung on one side, offering a tempting shade from the burning sun; but before they reached it Cyril uttered an eager cry.“Look! look!” he said excitedly, and he pointed to where there were marks about a patch of herbage where the mules had been cropping the coarse stuff, as well as browsing upon some tufts of bushes, whose green twigs were bitten and broken off, and here and there leaves which had been dropped were still so fresh that it was evident that they could not long have been left.This discovery, and a faint trace or two of the Indians having been with the mules, had a better effect upon the party than hours of rest. For they knew now that the treasured packs, containing not only the necessities upon which they depended for life, but the carefully-collected seed, were only a short distance ahead, and that if they pushed on with energy they ought to overtake them.The rest depended upon the strong arms of the two men.They went on then at once, but no fresh sign encouraged them, and at last the closing in of the ravine and the piled-up mountain in front warned them that they were approaching the gloomy chasm into which the river plunged. In fact, half an hour after, the deep booming roar of the fall began to be audible, as if coming from somewhere high up on the mountain-side.“If it’s coming to a fight,” said Perry, “I hope it will not be in that deep cavernous place near the fall. I feel as if I hardly dare go down to it after what happened.”“Nonsense; you’ll feel plucky enough when it comes to the point. Come along.”“Steady, young gentleman. Halt,” growled John Manning. “You should keep your eyes open for what’s going on in front. Look at the colonel.”They gazed forward, and saw that the last-named gentleman was signing to them to stop and follow his example of crouching down; and directly after they saw him creeping on toward the spot, from which so short a time before they had seen the Indians come out from behind the veil of mist, and amidst the roar of the falls point upward, making signs to each other, and then disappear.It was now so gloomy, that it was hard to make out their leader’s movements, for the light only reached them from the narrow opening high overhead, and where the little river raced onward toward the fall it was rapidly growing black; but in a few minutes the colonel signed to them to come on, and at a word from John Manning they advanced quickly, stooping in obedience to a sign from the colonel’s hand, and reached him at last where he crouched behind a stone.He did not speak, but pointed, and first John Manning, then Perry, and lastly Cyril peered cautiously over the stone, the latter being only in time to see that they were quite right in their surmises, for there below was a party of about thirty well-armed Indians, slowly making their way down the last of the many zigzags of the path toward where the mist rose like a dark veil, the wind which blew down the gorge keeping it, as it rose from the great gulf, from spreading in their direction, but beating it back into a dense cloud, to float slowly out into the valley beyond.There they were walking very cautiously, some ten in front, and next, to Cyril’s great joy, the remainder of their train of pack-mules, well loaded with the treasures taken from the cave. The rest of the party followed about a dozen yards behind.Cyril remained watching till the head of the little column readied the veil of mist, went on, and was completely blotted out the next minute, one by one, the Indians being visible in the gloom, and then gone.Next it was the turn of the animals, and as Cyril watched, it was very curious to note how a mule would be visible for a time, then its head and shoulders would disappear, and lastly it would be entirely swallowed up. The remainder of the Indians followed, one by one, till the last man, who seemed to be their chief, was alone, and he turned back to gaze upward, narrowly scrutinising the zigzag path by which his party had descended for a few minutes before he followed the rest. Then the gloomy place was utterly deserted, and momentarily growing blacker, so that the way down could not be seen.There was no fear now of their words being heard above the booming roar which came up out of the chasm, and the colonel explained his intentions.“I am going to call upon you all to show your nerve,” he said, “for we must go down, and pass along by the fall through the darkness and mist.”“But is it safe, father?” said Perry anxiously.“Safe or no, my lad, it is a chance I cannot let slip,” replied his father. “You saw their leader looking back, Cyril? He was evidently satisfied that there was no pursuit, and he and his people will conclude that once they get through the mist they will be safe, and no doubt camp just on the other side for the night.—Manning, we must steal through the mist, creep up, and surprise them. Two or three of our little volleys will, I believe, put them to flight if we come upon them suddenly, and then we must return this way, and show our teeth fiercely if they pursue.”“Right, sir; I’m ready,” said John Manning. “You lead, and we’ll follow.”“Let’s rest, then, till it is quite dark. I believe I can lead you right through to the other side without much risk, for after our experience we know the worst. Besides, where they can go, we can go. There, wait a bit, boys, and we shall have our own again, and the wherewithal to make a good meal. No, no,” the colonel added as John Manning raised his head. “Only in case of utter starvation, my man. We can hold out a little longer, and I hope we shall not have to come to eating mule. Now, lie down, all of you, and rest. In a couple of hours’ time I shall start.”

At the first spot which gave him an opportunity to examine the gorge, the colonel mounted to a narrow shelf and made good use of his glass, descending at last to say: “They have got a good start of us, but there is something about a quarter of a mile on that I can’t make out. Forward cautiously.”

Five minutes later the colonel halted again and sent Perry to the left, close up under that side of the gorge; Cyril to the right, with orders to advance in a line with him, and be ready to fire if there were any need.

It was quite a military movement, and the boys’ hearts beat heavily at what seemed like the first initiation in real warfare; but before they had gone far Cyril uttered a shout, and pointed forward to something now hidden from the colonel by a cluster of rocks in the lowest part of the ravine, close to where the river ran with a deep-toned roar far below.

A minute later they were alongside the object, which proved to be the leader, lying as near as it could get to the deep gash in which the water was foaming. The poor wounded beast had in its struggles broken the long arrow nearly level with its skin, and in its agony of thirst it had been trying to reach the water, but fallen upon its side.

As Cyril came close up, the mule raised its head and uttered a piteous whinnying noise, looking up in the face of one who had many a time broken off some green spray of juicy growth to feed it as it trudged along with its load; but its eyes were already glazing, and it was the poor creature’s last effort, for the head fell back heavily: there was a curious quivering of the legs, which struck out once as if their owner were galloping, and then all was still.

“Poor brute,” said the colonel. “We cannot bury it, for there is no soil here, even if we had tools. Forward, my lads.”

He led on, and the boys followed, feeling low-spirited; but they soon had something else to think about, for just as they were approaching one of the narrowest parts of the gorge, Perry stopped short.

“Where’s John Manning?” he said.

Cyril followed suit, but no sign of the old soldier met his eyes, and they communicated with the colonel, who looked very anxious and much disturbed.

“We must return,” he said. “Why, boys, you ought to have kept in touch with him. Double.”

They all started back, but before they had gone a hundred yards the colonel cried “Halt;” for there in the distance was the missing man coming on at a rate which meant that he would soon overtake them.

“Did you see what he has been doing?” said Cyril, as they were once more on the march.

“Been stopping to get something,” said Perry, “but I could not see what. Could you?”

“Ugh! Yes,” said Cyril, with a shudder of disgust. “He doesn’t want for us to be starved, but who’s going to eat mule?”

The tramp was long and tedious, but being no longer controlled by the pace of the baggage animals, the little party made far better progress than when they were making their way up the valley; yet the distance they had come was far greater than they had anticipated, and for long enough there was no sign of the Indians having passed that way. But they kept on, the colonel feeling convinced that they had passed no side ravine up which the mules could have been driven; while, having these animals at their command, the colonel felt certain that the Indians would not carry the loads.

At last, during the hottest part of the afternoon, a halt was called, and they made for a huge rock which overhung on one side, offering a tempting shade from the burning sun; but before they reached it Cyril uttered an eager cry.

“Look! look!” he said excitedly, and he pointed to where there were marks about a patch of herbage where the mules had been cropping the coarse stuff, as well as browsing upon some tufts of bushes, whose green twigs were bitten and broken off, and here and there leaves which had been dropped were still so fresh that it was evident that they could not long have been left.

This discovery, and a faint trace or two of the Indians having been with the mules, had a better effect upon the party than hours of rest. For they knew now that the treasured packs, containing not only the necessities upon which they depended for life, but the carefully-collected seed, were only a short distance ahead, and that if they pushed on with energy they ought to overtake them.

The rest depended upon the strong arms of the two men.

They went on then at once, but no fresh sign encouraged them, and at last the closing in of the ravine and the piled-up mountain in front warned them that they were approaching the gloomy chasm into which the river plunged. In fact, half an hour after, the deep booming roar of the fall began to be audible, as if coming from somewhere high up on the mountain-side.

“If it’s coming to a fight,” said Perry, “I hope it will not be in that deep cavernous place near the fall. I feel as if I hardly dare go down to it after what happened.”

“Nonsense; you’ll feel plucky enough when it comes to the point. Come along.”

“Steady, young gentleman. Halt,” growled John Manning. “You should keep your eyes open for what’s going on in front. Look at the colonel.”

They gazed forward, and saw that the last-named gentleman was signing to them to stop and follow his example of crouching down; and directly after they saw him creeping on toward the spot, from which so short a time before they had seen the Indians come out from behind the veil of mist, and amidst the roar of the falls point upward, making signs to each other, and then disappear.

It was now so gloomy, that it was hard to make out their leader’s movements, for the light only reached them from the narrow opening high overhead, and where the little river raced onward toward the fall it was rapidly growing black; but in a few minutes the colonel signed to them to come on, and at a word from John Manning they advanced quickly, stooping in obedience to a sign from the colonel’s hand, and reached him at last where he crouched behind a stone.

He did not speak, but pointed, and first John Manning, then Perry, and lastly Cyril peered cautiously over the stone, the latter being only in time to see that they were quite right in their surmises, for there below was a party of about thirty well-armed Indians, slowly making their way down the last of the many zigzags of the path toward where the mist rose like a dark veil, the wind which blew down the gorge keeping it, as it rose from the great gulf, from spreading in their direction, but beating it back into a dense cloud, to float slowly out into the valley beyond.

There they were walking very cautiously, some ten in front, and next, to Cyril’s great joy, the remainder of their train of pack-mules, well loaded with the treasures taken from the cave. The rest of the party followed about a dozen yards behind.

Cyril remained watching till the head of the little column readied the veil of mist, went on, and was completely blotted out the next minute, one by one, the Indians being visible in the gloom, and then gone.

Next it was the turn of the animals, and as Cyril watched, it was very curious to note how a mule would be visible for a time, then its head and shoulders would disappear, and lastly it would be entirely swallowed up. The remainder of the Indians followed, one by one, till the last man, who seemed to be their chief, was alone, and he turned back to gaze upward, narrowly scrutinising the zigzag path by which his party had descended for a few minutes before he followed the rest. Then the gloomy place was utterly deserted, and momentarily growing blacker, so that the way down could not be seen.

There was no fear now of their words being heard above the booming roar which came up out of the chasm, and the colonel explained his intentions.

“I am going to call upon you all to show your nerve,” he said, “for we must go down, and pass along by the fall through the darkness and mist.”

“But is it safe, father?” said Perry anxiously.

“Safe or no, my lad, it is a chance I cannot let slip,” replied his father. “You saw their leader looking back, Cyril? He was evidently satisfied that there was no pursuit, and he and his people will conclude that once they get through the mist they will be safe, and no doubt camp just on the other side for the night.—Manning, we must steal through the mist, creep up, and surprise them. Two or three of our little volleys will, I believe, put them to flight if we come upon them suddenly, and then we must return this way, and show our teeth fiercely if they pursue.”

“Right, sir; I’m ready,” said John Manning. “You lead, and we’ll follow.”

“Let’s rest, then, till it is quite dark. I believe I can lead you right through to the other side without much risk, for after our experience we know the worst. Besides, where they can go, we can go. There, wait a bit, boys, and we shall have our own again, and the wherewithal to make a good meal. No, no,” the colonel added as John Manning raised his head. “Only in case of utter starvation, my man. We can hold out a little longer, and I hope we shall not have to come to eating mule. Now, lie down, all of you, and rest. In a couple of hours’ time I shall start.”

Chapter Thirty.Trapped.Hungry and faint, it was a dreary time passed during that halt; but in spite of all, it was restful, though the stones were hard, and there were moments when Cyril felt as if he could go off fast asleep, and dream of banquets, as hungry people are said to do.But there was no sleeping, and, as nearly as could be guessed, at the end of two hours the colonel rose, and gave the word “Forward.”Then began the journey down the long zigzag, every turn bringing them nearer to the spot where the river took its great plunge into the gulf. The roar grew deeper and louder, though still smothered by the dense mist, and as they drew nearer, there was the damp odour of water, breathed in the smallest of vesicles, as it was churned and then whirled upward to battle with the breeze descending the gorge.The last turn of the descending path at last, and then the colonel stopped, for they were face to face with the great black veil of mist.“Now,” he said, with his lips close to each one’s ear in turn, “you first, Perry, take a grip of the stock of my gun, and pass your own backward as I do mine for Cyril to take hold. Then Cyril will do the same for John Manning to grasp, and we shall be linked together and well in touch. I shall lead, of course. Courage, boys, and no hesitation. We shall soon be through. Now, forward.”In half-a-dozen steps the darkness, which had been relieved by the faint gleaming of the stars peering down into the gorge, became intense, for they were once more in the mist, and guided only by the gentle drag upon the guns, as without hesitation the colonel led on, keeping close to the wall upon his left.The noise of the water thundering down was more confusing than ever, the mist more stifling; but the boys gathered confidence as they went on, and Perry was too much occupied in following his father’s steps, to think much about the horrible slip into the gulf below; while Cyril, as he stepped on manfully, kept trying to recall how far the way was through, and calculated that they must be fully half-way.He had just arrived at this conclusion, when he turned angrily to resent what he looked upon as absurd behaviour on the part of John Manning, who suddenly grasped him tightly, pinning his arms down to his sides, and flinging him up against the rock-wall as far as possible from the edge of the gulf.“How stupid!” he cried aloud, though not a word was heard. “I’m all right. Now you’ve broken the chain.”He had arrived at this point, when he felt a rope passed rapidly round him, binding his arms to his sides. Then he was thrown upon his back, and in spite of his struggles, his legs were treated in the same way, after which a cloth was bound over his face, so tightly as to be almost suffocating. Lastly, he felt himself lifted head and heels, and borne forward, dizzy, confused, and wondering what had happened to his companions, and finally bound to conclude that they must have been treated precisely in the same way. He felt that this must be so, and that the Indian cunning had been too much for the colonel’s strategy, a party having remained in waiting in full knowledge that they were pursued, and ready to pounce upon them, just in a spot where an attack would be least expected and surest of success.All at once, as the boy was borne along, feeling satisfied that it was useless to struggle and folly to exert himself and shout, it occurred to him that his bearers were going closer to the edge of the gulf, for the roar of the water seemed to be more deafening. There could only be one reason for this, he argued—it was his turn to be thrown in, and the others must be gone.The horrible thought made him begin to struggle with all his might, but at the first writhe a strong additional arm was passed over his body, gripping him tightly to its owner’s side, and in this fashion he became helpless, and was carried forward, to grow calmer, for he awoke to the fact that his life was certainly for the present safe.Then a curious feeling of faintness came over him, the heat of the cloth over his mouth was suffocating, bright specks of light danced before his eyes, there was a singing in his ears, and then everything seemed to be at an end, till the stars were looking down at him from far on high, and above the low distant booming of the fall he could hear the pleasant silvery gurgle of water, and the heavy breathing of sleepers close at hand.By degrees the boy’s head grew clearer, but at the expense of his body, for as the power of thinking brightened, his limbs grew heavier, numb, and helpless, and the effort he made to turn over upon one side proved to be in vain. He felt that the cloth which bound his lips was gone, but there was no inclination to cry for help, and he lay perfectly still, wondering whether his companions were near, and then utterly exhausted, all passed away again, but this time he slept.It must have been near morning once more, when Cyril awoke with a feeling of something warm touching his ear, and a voice whispered:“Careful, my lad. I’ve cut you free, and I’m going to cut the colonel and Master Perry clear. Now try and rub your legs gently. We must make a dash for it, as soon as you’re ready. Don’t speak.”The lips were removed from his ear, and there was a faint rustling, that was all.He tried to obey the orders he had received, but for some minutes there was scarcely any sense of feeling in his hand, or in the part he touched, but he worked on, feeling hopeful now. John Manning was fighting for their freedom, and the others must be close at hand, but he felt that if they were as helpless as he, they would not be of much use in an attempt to escape from their captors.And as Cyril went on softly rubbing circulation into his numbed and swollen legs once more, a faint point of light high up in the clouds, where an ice peak was catching the first rays of the coming morn, shone out like a hopeful sign to tell him that all was not yet lost.For quite half an hour he kept up the gentle friction, bringing back circulation, but with it intense pain. Then his heart bounded, and he forgot his agony, for John Manning crept close to him again.“Been rubbing?” he whispered.“Yes.”“Can you fight?”“I’ll try.”“All right then, boy; the others are ready, and I think the Indians are asleep. We must make a dash for it now, before they make up their minds to put us out of our misery, for I am afraid it’s that they mean.”“What do we do first?” whispered Cyril, who felt the power rapidly coming back into his legs.“Wait till the colonel joins us with Master Perry. They’re coming as soon as they feel it safe, and then we dash back for the falls, and retreat up the gorge. When we jump up, keep together and run. Hit out, lad, at anybody who tries to stop you. They’re only cowards after all, but the colonel’s coming. Now get up softly. Ready?”“Yes.”At that moment there was a fierce yell, and Cyril was dashed back upon the ground, three Indians flinging themselves upon him; there was a dull blow, a groan, and John Manning cried aloud:“They’ve done for me, lad; run for it, if you can get free. Tell the colonel I did my duty to the last.”Almost at the same moment Cyril, as he fiercely struggled, heard a shrill cry of agony from Perry, a shout from the colonel, and the reports of half-a-dozen guns fired in rapid succession.Then all was blank, for a heavy blow on the side of the head made the lad insensible to what was passing around.

Hungry and faint, it was a dreary time passed during that halt; but in spite of all, it was restful, though the stones were hard, and there were moments when Cyril felt as if he could go off fast asleep, and dream of banquets, as hungry people are said to do.

But there was no sleeping, and, as nearly as could be guessed, at the end of two hours the colonel rose, and gave the word “Forward.”

Then began the journey down the long zigzag, every turn bringing them nearer to the spot where the river took its great plunge into the gulf. The roar grew deeper and louder, though still smothered by the dense mist, and as they drew nearer, there was the damp odour of water, breathed in the smallest of vesicles, as it was churned and then whirled upward to battle with the breeze descending the gorge.

The last turn of the descending path at last, and then the colonel stopped, for they were face to face with the great black veil of mist.

“Now,” he said, with his lips close to each one’s ear in turn, “you first, Perry, take a grip of the stock of my gun, and pass your own backward as I do mine for Cyril to take hold. Then Cyril will do the same for John Manning to grasp, and we shall be linked together and well in touch. I shall lead, of course. Courage, boys, and no hesitation. We shall soon be through. Now, forward.”

In half-a-dozen steps the darkness, which had been relieved by the faint gleaming of the stars peering down into the gorge, became intense, for they were once more in the mist, and guided only by the gentle drag upon the guns, as without hesitation the colonel led on, keeping close to the wall upon his left.

The noise of the water thundering down was more confusing than ever, the mist more stifling; but the boys gathered confidence as they went on, and Perry was too much occupied in following his father’s steps, to think much about the horrible slip into the gulf below; while Cyril, as he stepped on manfully, kept trying to recall how far the way was through, and calculated that they must be fully half-way.

He had just arrived at this conclusion, when he turned angrily to resent what he looked upon as absurd behaviour on the part of John Manning, who suddenly grasped him tightly, pinning his arms down to his sides, and flinging him up against the rock-wall as far as possible from the edge of the gulf.

“How stupid!” he cried aloud, though not a word was heard. “I’m all right. Now you’ve broken the chain.”

He had arrived at this point, when he felt a rope passed rapidly round him, binding his arms to his sides. Then he was thrown upon his back, and in spite of his struggles, his legs were treated in the same way, after which a cloth was bound over his face, so tightly as to be almost suffocating. Lastly, he felt himself lifted head and heels, and borne forward, dizzy, confused, and wondering what had happened to his companions, and finally bound to conclude that they must have been treated precisely in the same way. He felt that this must be so, and that the Indian cunning had been too much for the colonel’s strategy, a party having remained in waiting in full knowledge that they were pursued, and ready to pounce upon them, just in a spot where an attack would be least expected and surest of success.

All at once, as the boy was borne along, feeling satisfied that it was useless to struggle and folly to exert himself and shout, it occurred to him that his bearers were going closer to the edge of the gulf, for the roar of the water seemed to be more deafening. There could only be one reason for this, he argued—it was his turn to be thrown in, and the others must be gone.

The horrible thought made him begin to struggle with all his might, but at the first writhe a strong additional arm was passed over his body, gripping him tightly to its owner’s side, and in this fashion he became helpless, and was carried forward, to grow calmer, for he awoke to the fact that his life was certainly for the present safe.

Then a curious feeling of faintness came over him, the heat of the cloth over his mouth was suffocating, bright specks of light danced before his eyes, there was a singing in his ears, and then everything seemed to be at an end, till the stars were looking down at him from far on high, and above the low distant booming of the fall he could hear the pleasant silvery gurgle of water, and the heavy breathing of sleepers close at hand.

By degrees the boy’s head grew clearer, but at the expense of his body, for as the power of thinking brightened, his limbs grew heavier, numb, and helpless, and the effort he made to turn over upon one side proved to be in vain. He felt that the cloth which bound his lips was gone, but there was no inclination to cry for help, and he lay perfectly still, wondering whether his companions were near, and then utterly exhausted, all passed away again, but this time he slept.

It must have been near morning once more, when Cyril awoke with a feeling of something warm touching his ear, and a voice whispered:

“Careful, my lad. I’ve cut you free, and I’m going to cut the colonel and Master Perry clear. Now try and rub your legs gently. We must make a dash for it, as soon as you’re ready. Don’t speak.”

The lips were removed from his ear, and there was a faint rustling, that was all.

He tried to obey the orders he had received, but for some minutes there was scarcely any sense of feeling in his hand, or in the part he touched, but he worked on, feeling hopeful now. John Manning was fighting for their freedom, and the others must be close at hand, but he felt that if they were as helpless as he, they would not be of much use in an attempt to escape from their captors.

And as Cyril went on softly rubbing circulation into his numbed and swollen legs once more, a faint point of light high up in the clouds, where an ice peak was catching the first rays of the coming morn, shone out like a hopeful sign to tell him that all was not yet lost.

For quite half an hour he kept up the gentle friction, bringing back circulation, but with it intense pain. Then his heart bounded, and he forgot his agony, for John Manning crept close to him again.

“Been rubbing?” he whispered.

“Yes.”

“Can you fight?”

“I’ll try.”

“All right then, boy; the others are ready, and I think the Indians are asleep. We must make a dash for it now, before they make up their minds to put us out of our misery, for I am afraid it’s that they mean.”

“What do we do first?” whispered Cyril, who felt the power rapidly coming back into his legs.

“Wait till the colonel joins us with Master Perry. They’re coming as soon as they feel it safe, and then we dash back for the falls, and retreat up the gorge. When we jump up, keep together and run. Hit out, lad, at anybody who tries to stop you. They’re only cowards after all, but the colonel’s coming. Now get up softly. Ready?”

“Yes.”

At that moment there was a fierce yell, and Cyril was dashed back upon the ground, three Indians flinging themselves upon him; there was a dull blow, a groan, and John Manning cried aloud:

“They’ve done for me, lad; run for it, if you can get free. Tell the colonel I did my duty to the last.”

Almost at the same moment Cyril, as he fiercely struggled, heard a shrill cry of agony from Perry, a shout from the colonel, and the reports of half-a-dozen guns fired in rapid succession.

Then all was blank, for a heavy blow on the side of the head made the lad insensible to what was passing around.

Chapter Thirty One.Father and Son.When Cyril opened his eyes and began to look about, his head was aching violently, and a swimming sensation made everything near him look misty and indistinct. But he was conscious that the sun was shining brightly all around, and that he was lying in the shade cast by a tree, whose foliage was so familiar that he closed his eyes again to think and wonder whether he was dreaming.For that was unmistakably a cinchona tree, one of those he had thought about so much of late.He opened his eyes again, and looked round to see that there were several mules about grazing on the rich grass, and there was a peculiar odour in the air which he knew to be caused by burning wood.A low buzz of conversation was going on, too, somewhere close behind him, and he tried to look round, but the movement gave him so much pain that he let his head sink down, uttering a weary sigh, which was evidently heard, for there was a rustling sound behind him, and some one came and bent down and took his hand, at the same time laying another upon his forehead and gazing into his eyes.For some moments nothing was said; Cyril, with his heart beating heavily, gazing up into the eyes that looked down into his, while he wondered more than ever what it all meant.“Don’t you know me, my boy?” was said at last, and a half-hysterical cry escaped the lad’s lips as he clung to the hand which grasped his.“Yes, father! But—but what does it all mean?”“That you must lie still and rest for a bit. You have had a nasty blow on the head, but you will soon be better.”“But—where are we?—where is Perry, and where is the colonel? I can’t think, but I don’t understand why you are here.”“You can ask yourself that last question by-and-by, my lad.”Cyril shrank a little, for those words were more potent than any reproach, and Captain Norton went on:“You were asking about your friends. They are all here, but have been hurt more or less. We only came up just in time.”“You came up—just in time? Oh, I remember now. We were fighting and trying to escape, and somebody fired. Was it you, father?”“Yes, my lad, my friends and I. If we had not arrived as we did, I’m afraid that there would have been a tragedy here in this valley, for the Indians were roused, and I believe that you would none of you have lived to see another day.”“And the Indians: where are they now?”“Far away, my lad. They will not face firearms.”“But you came, father—after me?”“Of course, as soon as I grasped the fact that you had followed Colonel Campion. At first I would not think it possible that my son could treat us at home as you had; but when, from a man who had come over the mountains with a llama train, I learned that he had seen you, I did what I felt it to be my duty to do for your mother’s sake.”Cyril’s hands went up to his face for a few moments, and then they were gently pressed aside.“This is no time for blaming you, Cyril,” said the captain gently; “you are injured. Get well, my boy. But you asked me how I came here. As soon as I knew that you were with Colonel Campion, I got the help of two or three friends, and our servants, and we obtained mules and came on in search of you. I did so, for, in addition to my duty to you, I repented letting a brother-officer come upon what I felt more and more was an exceedingly risky expedition. It has proved so, has it not?”“I’m afraid so, father,” sighed Cyril. “Would the Indians have killed us?”“It seems so. You were utterly outnumbered, and from what I can gather, I suppose they believe you were hunting for and had found some of the old treasures buried here in the mountains.”“Oh no,” cried Cyril; “they were quite wrong.”And he explained the object of the colonel’s mission.“They would not believe that, my boy, though they would have been just as ready to stop anything of the kind. I found, on tracing you to their camp, that you had come down in this direction, and the man who acted as our guide gathered that there was some trouble on the way, and thus made me hurry on after you. I should have come up with your party sooner, only three times over we were tricked into following another track, our guide proving perfectly untrustworthy directly after he had been in communication with the people at the back camp. However, I came up with you in time, just as a fierce fight was going on, and your party were being worsted. A few shots drove the Indians off, and for the present we are safe.”“And the mules and their loads?”“There are our mules,” said the captain quietly.“No, no; I mean ours,” cried Cyril.“I have seen no others. There are none here.”“But they’ve taken the kinia seed that the colonel came to collect. We must go and attack them at once.”“We must get from here on to the regular track through the mountains as soon as we can, my boy,” said the captain sternly. “We do not know whether we may not ourselves be attacked by a strong body of the Indians. I cannot do as I like, for I must study my friends; but if I could, I would not run any risk in the face of such odds: so if Colonel Campion can by any possibility sit a mule, we shall begin our retreat at once. What? Can you stand?”“Yes, father. Only a little giddy; and I want to see the colonel and John Manning.”For Cyril had raised himself to his feet, and his father led him at once to where his companions lay close by, where their rescuers had formed their temporary camp, and were now making a hearty meal.Perry was lying back with his head bandaged, John Manning was suffering from a severe knife wound, and the colonel lay looking very hollow of cheek, for he also in the fight had received a bad knife thrust, and to Cyril it seemed that it would be impossible for the party to begin their retreat for some days to come.But as soon as he awoke, the colonel declared himself able to sit a mule, and John Manning insisted upon the hurt he had received being merely a scratch; so, as the case was urgent, a start was made that same afternoon, and a few miles made before they were overtaken by night, and encamped, setting a careful watch in case of attack.But none came, the lesson given by Captain Norton quelling all present desire for a closer acquaintance with the firearms; and soon after daybreak they were once more in motion, the leader retracing the way taken by his friends in their attempted escape till they were close up to the cinchona camp, which they found deserted.A long halt was necessary here on account of the injured party, but two days later they were on their way again, after a long consultation between Colonel Campion and their friends.“Did you hear what was said?” asked Perry, as he and Cyril rode side by side wherever the track would allow.“Yes, everything; your father wanted to stay here for a bit and make an expedition or two in search of the Indians, so as to try and recover the baggage and mules.”“Of course,” said Perry. “It’s horrible to go back like this, regularly beaten. But they wouldn’t?”“No: my father said he was willing, but the rest would not. They said they had come to help to save all our lives, and bring me back, but they were not going to risk their own any more to satisfy—”“Well, satisfy what?” said Perry, for his companion checked himself.“Like to know?”“Of course.”“Satisfy your father’s mad-brained ideas.”“Mad-brained indeed!” cried Perry indignantly. “And didn’t father say they must go?”“No,” replied Cyril, laughing, “because he had no authority, and he was perfectly helpless. You see he couldn’t go himself.”“I only wish he was strong enough,” cried Perry. “He would soon show some of them.”“Hasn’t he shown them enough? My father’s right.”“What, in giving up?” cried Perry indignantly.“No, in behaving like a good soldier, and drawing off his forces when he is beaten. Father told him that it was folly to go on now in his helpless state. That, injured as he was, he would kill himself and you and your man too, for you had neither mules, provisions, nor weapons, and that the only thing to do was to go back.”“And what did my father say?” cried Perry hotly.“Nothing. He only held out his hand without speaking, and they stood for half a minute.”“But it’s horrid to be beaten and go back like this, robbed of all our belongings, and just too when we had succeeded so well. The cowards! All that party against us. I feel as if I couldn’t go back to San Geronimo.”“So do I,” said Cyril dolefully.“You? What have you got to mind?”“What have I got to mind? All that my father will say when we get back, though I don’t worry about that so much.”“What, then?”“I’ve got to meet my mother.”“Well, but she won’t say anything unkind to you.”“No,” said Cyril sadly, “not a word; but she’ll look at me as I often seem to see her looking at me now, and asking me how I could behave so cruelly to her. It half killed her, father says, for my boat was missing for a fortnight. One of the fishermen had taken it away, and she thought I had gone out in her, and was drowned.”Perry was silent, and soon after the boys had to separate, and ride in single file about the middle of the little line, Captain Norton and two of his friends forming the rearguard, in case of attack.But though the return journey was very slow, on account of the weakness of the injured part of the little caravan, and there was every opportunity for the Indians to fall upon them had they been so disposed, they went on, day after day, unmolested, and their nights were undisturbed.Those long narrow shelves of rock at the sides of the defiles seemed as if they would never end, but the clear crisp mountain air was wonderful in its curative effects; and while Perry was quite well again, and Cyril had about forgotten his injury, Colonel Campion and John Manning, though both thin of face, and generally a good deal pulled down, were strong enough to walk down—at the close of the last day’s journey—the long slope which led to Captain Norton’s house on its platform high above the sea.“Where’s Cyril?” said Perry suddenly to Captain Norton. “I haven’t seen him these two hours.”Captain Norton stopped at the edge of the narrow path, and pointed down to the dry-looking garden at the back of his house, where the tall, tapering flagstaff stood up, with the British colours fluttering in the sea-breeze.Perry shaded his eyes, and through the clear evening air he could distinctly see his companion standing by a lady, and looking up at the little mule train filing down the slope.“Why, he has run on home!”“Yes,” said the captain. “I sent him on to meet his mother alone. Perry, my lad, for the sake of all who hold you dear, never be guilty of such a selfish, thoughtless act as his.”“I’ll try not,” replied the boy thoughtfully; and then in an animated way: “But, I say, Captain Norton, if it had not been for his thoughtless act, where would we three have been now?”The captain smiled and looked at the colonel, who had heard all that had been said.“That’s a question I would rather not try to answer, my lad. There, no more: I’ve promised Cyril to bury the past.”Weak as he still was from his injuries, and smarting from the bitter disappointment of his failure, Colonel Campion seized the first opportunity which occurred of getting a passage up to Panama, the two boys parting with many promises of keeping up a correspondence, which were none too faithfully fulfilled. Perry wrote from Panama, and again from Barbadoes on the way home. Then three years elapsed before Cyril had a letter, though Captain Norton had heard again and again from his friend the colonel.Here is a portion of the letter Cyril received:“I don’t suppose they will do it, but I think they ought to make my father F.L.S. and F.R.S. and F.G.S., and all the rest of it, besides knighting him. For only think, in spite of all the disappointment of losing the packages of seed we so carefully made up, the little lots we had in our pockets, including those you gave me at San Geronimo out of yours—I mean that day on board the packet, when you said, ‘You may as well take these, for they’re no use to me—’ I say, all these were distributed and set, and with the exception of one lot, pretty well all grew, and they have made small plantations in Java, Ceylon, India, and one or two other places, so that in the course of time there’ll be quinine in plenty in hot places all over the world. Which lot do you think it was failed? You, in your modesty, will say your own. Not it, but mine; and I’ll tell you how it was—through my fall down into that horrid place. The seed was of course soaked, and it went off mouldy, I suppose. At all events, none of it grew.”“Hah!” exclaimed Captain Norton as he heard the letter read. “It was a daring thing to do—a brave soldier’s deed. How many poor wretches in the future who struggle back from some deadly fever will ever hear of or bless his name? Hardly one.”“But we shall have the satisfaction, father, of knowing that we helped to save them all the same.”“Right, boy,” cried the captain, bringing his hand heavily down upon his son’s shoulder. “You did your share, and it would be a poor world indeed if we did all our good actions for the sake of the reward.”“But mine was not a good action, father,” said Cyril gravely.“Ah, well,” said his father, “it is a matter of the past. I made you a promise then, and we will not argue that.”The End.

When Cyril opened his eyes and began to look about, his head was aching violently, and a swimming sensation made everything near him look misty and indistinct. But he was conscious that the sun was shining brightly all around, and that he was lying in the shade cast by a tree, whose foliage was so familiar that he closed his eyes again to think and wonder whether he was dreaming.

For that was unmistakably a cinchona tree, one of those he had thought about so much of late.

He opened his eyes again, and looked round to see that there were several mules about grazing on the rich grass, and there was a peculiar odour in the air which he knew to be caused by burning wood.

A low buzz of conversation was going on, too, somewhere close behind him, and he tried to look round, but the movement gave him so much pain that he let his head sink down, uttering a weary sigh, which was evidently heard, for there was a rustling sound behind him, and some one came and bent down and took his hand, at the same time laying another upon his forehead and gazing into his eyes.

For some moments nothing was said; Cyril, with his heart beating heavily, gazing up into the eyes that looked down into his, while he wondered more than ever what it all meant.

“Don’t you know me, my boy?” was said at last, and a half-hysterical cry escaped the lad’s lips as he clung to the hand which grasped his.

“Yes, father! But—but what does it all mean?”

“That you must lie still and rest for a bit. You have had a nasty blow on the head, but you will soon be better.”

“But—where are we?—where is Perry, and where is the colonel? I can’t think, but I don’t understand why you are here.”

“You can ask yourself that last question by-and-by, my lad.”

Cyril shrank a little, for those words were more potent than any reproach, and Captain Norton went on:

“You were asking about your friends. They are all here, but have been hurt more or less. We only came up just in time.”

“You came up—just in time? Oh, I remember now. We were fighting and trying to escape, and somebody fired. Was it you, father?”

“Yes, my lad, my friends and I. If we had not arrived as we did, I’m afraid that there would have been a tragedy here in this valley, for the Indians were roused, and I believe that you would none of you have lived to see another day.”

“And the Indians: where are they now?”

“Far away, my lad. They will not face firearms.”

“But you came, father—after me?”

“Of course, as soon as I grasped the fact that you had followed Colonel Campion. At first I would not think it possible that my son could treat us at home as you had; but when, from a man who had come over the mountains with a llama train, I learned that he had seen you, I did what I felt it to be my duty to do for your mother’s sake.”

Cyril’s hands went up to his face for a few moments, and then they were gently pressed aside.

“This is no time for blaming you, Cyril,” said the captain gently; “you are injured. Get well, my boy. But you asked me how I came here. As soon as I knew that you were with Colonel Campion, I got the help of two or three friends, and our servants, and we obtained mules and came on in search of you. I did so, for, in addition to my duty to you, I repented letting a brother-officer come upon what I felt more and more was an exceedingly risky expedition. It has proved so, has it not?”

“I’m afraid so, father,” sighed Cyril. “Would the Indians have killed us?”

“It seems so. You were utterly outnumbered, and from what I can gather, I suppose they believe you were hunting for and had found some of the old treasures buried here in the mountains.”

“Oh no,” cried Cyril; “they were quite wrong.”

And he explained the object of the colonel’s mission.

“They would not believe that, my boy, though they would have been just as ready to stop anything of the kind. I found, on tracing you to their camp, that you had come down in this direction, and the man who acted as our guide gathered that there was some trouble on the way, and thus made me hurry on after you. I should have come up with your party sooner, only three times over we were tricked into following another track, our guide proving perfectly untrustworthy directly after he had been in communication with the people at the back camp. However, I came up with you in time, just as a fierce fight was going on, and your party were being worsted. A few shots drove the Indians off, and for the present we are safe.”

“And the mules and their loads?”

“There are our mules,” said the captain quietly.

“No, no; I mean ours,” cried Cyril.

“I have seen no others. There are none here.”

“But they’ve taken the kinia seed that the colonel came to collect. We must go and attack them at once.”

“We must get from here on to the regular track through the mountains as soon as we can, my boy,” said the captain sternly. “We do not know whether we may not ourselves be attacked by a strong body of the Indians. I cannot do as I like, for I must study my friends; but if I could, I would not run any risk in the face of such odds: so if Colonel Campion can by any possibility sit a mule, we shall begin our retreat at once. What? Can you stand?”

“Yes, father. Only a little giddy; and I want to see the colonel and John Manning.”

For Cyril had raised himself to his feet, and his father led him at once to where his companions lay close by, where their rescuers had formed their temporary camp, and were now making a hearty meal.

Perry was lying back with his head bandaged, John Manning was suffering from a severe knife wound, and the colonel lay looking very hollow of cheek, for he also in the fight had received a bad knife thrust, and to Cyril it seemed that it would be impossible for the party to begin their retreat for some days to come.

But as soon as he awoke, the colonel declared himself able to sit a mule, and John Manning insisted upon the hurt he had received being merely a scratch; so, as the case was urgent, a start was made that same afternoon, and a few miles made before they were overtaken by night, and encamped, setting a careful watch in case of attack.

But none came, the lesson given by Captain Norton quelling all present desire for a closer acquaintance with the firearms; and soon after daybreak they were once more in motion, the leader retracing the way taken by his friends in their attempted escape till they were close up to the cinchona camp, which they found deserted.

A long halt was necessary here on account of the injured party, but two days later they were on their way again, after a long consultation between Colonel Campion and their friends.

“Did you hear what was said?” asked Perry, as he and Cyril rode side by side wherever the track would allow.

“Yes, everything; your father wanted to stay here for a bit and make an expedition or two in search of the Indians, so as to try and recover the baggage and mules.”

“Of course,” said Perry. “It’s horrible to go back like this, regularly beaten. But they wouldn’t?”

“No: my father said he was willing, but the rest would not. They said they had come to help to save all our lives, and bring me back, but they were not going to risk their own any more to satisfy—”

“Well, satisfy what?” said Perry, for his companion checked himself.

“Like to know?”

“Of course.”

“Satisfy your father’s mad-brained ideas.”

“Mad-brained indeed!” cried Perry indignantly. “And didn’t father say they must go?”

“No,” replied Cyril, laughing, “because he had no authority, and he was perfectly helpless. You see he couldn’t go himself.”

“I only wish he was strong enough,” cried Perry. “He would soon show some of them.”

“Hasn’t he shown them enough? My father’s right.”

“What, in giving up?” cried Perry indignantly.

“No, in behaving like a good soldier, and drawing off his forces when he is beaten. Father told him that it was folly to go on now in his helpless state. That, injured as he was, he would kill himself and you and your man too, for you had neither mules, provisions, nor weapons, and that the only thing to do was to go back.”

“And what did my father say?” cried Perry hotly.

“Nothing. He only held out his hand without speaking, and they stood for half a minute.”

“But it’s horrid to be beaten and go back like this, robbed of all our belongings, and just too when we had succeeded so well. The cowards! All that party against us. I feel as if I couldn’t go back to San Geronimo.”

“So do I,” said Cyril dolefully.

“You? What have you got to mind?”

“What have I got to mind? All that my father will say when we get back, though I don’t worry about that so much.”

“What, then?”

“I’ve got to meet my mother.”

“Well, but she won’t say anything unkind to you.”

“No,” said Cyril sadly, “not a word; but she’ll look at me as I often seem to see her looking at me now, and asking me how I could behave so cruelly to her. It half killed her, father says, for my boat was missing for a fortnight. One of the fishermen had taken it away, and she thought I had gone out in her, and was drowned.”

Perry was silent, and soon after the boys had to separate, and ride in single file about the middle of the little line, Captain Norton and two of his friends forming the rearguard, in case of attack.

But though the return journey was very slow, on account of the weakness of the injured part of the little caravan, and there was every opportunity for the Indians to fall upon them had they been so disposed, they went on, day after day, unmolested, and their nights were undisturbed.

Those long narrow shelves of rock at the sides of the defiles seemed as if they would never end, but the clear crisp mountain air was wonderful in its curative effects; and while Perry was quite well again, and Cyril had about forgotten his injury, Colonel Campion and John Manning, though both thin of face, and generally a good deal pulled down, were strong enough to walk down—at the close of the last day’s journey—the long slope which led to Captain Norton’s house on its platform high above the sea.

“Where’s Cyril?” said Perry suddenly to Captain Norton. “I haven’t seen him these two hours.”

Captain Norton stopped at the edge of the narrow path, and pointed down to the dry-looking garden at the back of his house, where the tall, tapering flagstaff stood up, with the British colours fluttering in the sea-breeze.

Perry shaded his eyes, and through the clear evening air he could distinctly see his companion standing by a lady, and looking up at the little mule train filing down the slope.

“Why, he has run on home!”

“Yes,” said the captain. “I sent him on to meet his mother alone. Perry, my lad, for the sake of all who hold you dear, never be guilty of such a selfish, thoughtless act as his.”

“I’ll try not,” replied the boy thoughtfully; and then in an animated way: “But, I say, Captain Norton, if it had not been for his thoughtless act, where would we three have been now?”

The captain smiled and looked at the colonel, who had heard all that had been said.

“That’s a question I would rather not try to answer, my lad. There, no more: I’ve promised Cyril to bury the past.”

Weak as he still was from his injuries, and smarting from the bitter disappointment of his failure, Colonel Campion seized the first opportunity which occurred of getting a passage up to Panama, the two boys parting with many promises of keeping up a correspondence, which were none too faithfully fulfilled. Perry wrote from Panama, and again from Barbadoes on the way home. Then three years elapsed before Cyril had a letter, though Captain Norton had heard again and again from his friend the colonel.

Here is a portion of the letter Cyril received:

“I don’t suppose they will do it, but I think they ought to make my father F.L.S. and F.R.S. and F.G.S., and all the rest of it, besides knighting him. For only think, in spite of all the disappointment of losing the packages of seed we so carefully made up, the little lots we had in our pockets, including those you gave me at San Geronimo out of yours—I mean that day on board the packet, when you said, ‘You may as well take these, for they’re no use to me—’ I say, all these were distributed and set, and with the exception of one lot, pretty well all grew, and they have made small plantations in Java, Ceylon, India, and one or two other places, so that in the course of time there’ll be quinine in plenty in hot places all over the world. Which lot do you think it was failed? You, in your modesty, will say your own. Not it, but mine; and I’ll tell you how it was—through my fall down into that horrid place. The seed was of course soaked, and it went off mouldy, I suppose. At all events, none of it grew.”

“Hah!” exclaimed Captain Norton as he heard the letter read. “It was a daring thing to do—a brave soldier’s deed. How many poor wretches in the future who struggle back from some deadly fever will ever hear of or bless his name? Hardly one.”

“But we shall have the satisfaction, father, of knowing that we helped to save them all the same.”

“Right, boy,” cried the captain, bringing his hand heavily down upon his son’s shoulder. “You did your share, and it would be a poor world indeed if we did all our good actions for the sake of the reward.”

“But mine was not a good action, father,” said Cyril gravely.

“Ah, well,” said his father, “it is a matter of the past. I made you a promise then, and we will not argue that.”

The End.

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