Real Gold Part 12

"It must have been my fancy, but I could have been sure he said something to me in English," muttered Perry. "I was so excited, I suppose."

CHAPTER SIX.

A NIGHT ALARM.

"Did you give the Indian lad the knife?" said the colonel as they came abreast.

"No, father."

"Go and do it at once, and mind how you give it; the fellow's as wild as a hawk. I thought he was going to spring over the precipice as soon as I touched him."

Perry took out the pocket-knife he had with him, and stepped forward; but a word from his father checked him.

"I don't want to make too much fuss over this, Perry, my lad," he said, "but you displayed a great want of nerve. You did not act like a healthy, st.u.r.dy, English boy, and but for that Indian's quick decision, you would have lost your life."

"Yes, father, I'm afraid so."

"Then, for goodness' sake, my lad, try to shake off this girlish cowardice, or you'll make me regret bringing you."

"I'll try, father," said the boy, his face flushing hotly.

"That's right. I'm sure Captain Norton's son would have cut a better figure."

Perry's face grew hotter, and he felt a bitter feeling of annoyance at being compared so unfavourably with the lad who had been his companion.

The feeling was only momentary, though, and he went on and overtook the Indian, with the knife in his hand.

He was going to give it without a word, but the idea that, perhaps, after all, the half-savage being might understand a few words of English, flashed into his mind, and he said:

"This is not worth much, but I hope you'll keep it in memory of my grat.i.tude for your bravery to-day."

To his disgust, the Indian paid not the slightest attention, but trudged on barefooted beside the mule, as if perfectly unconscious of any one beside him, and Perry's nerves being all on the jar, he felt irritated at giving, un-noticed, a pretty speech.

"Here, catch hold," he said. "This is for you."

He thrust the knife into the Indian's grimy hand as he spoke, and then walked on to where Diego received him with a smile of welcome, and began talking directly in his mongrel tongue, perfectly content if the boy seemed to understand a word here and there, when he pointed to cavernous-looking holes in the cliff face opposite to him, to some brighter and greener spot in the gorge, or to some distant fall which glittered in the sunshine which came obliquely down into the narrow vale.

All at once there was a beating of wings, and one of the huge condors, startled from the eyrie it occupied high up above their heads, suddenly threw itself off, and began to fly round, rising higher and higher, while the Indian rapidly fitted one of the long feathered arrows be carried to the string of his bow, waited till the great bird was gliding by, and then loosed the shaft. The arrow struck the condor in the wing, and made the huge bird give itself an angry jerk, as if it were disposed to turn upon its aggressor; but as Perry watched, the bird gave a few rapid beats with its pinions, shooting upwards rapidly, and though it was some distance away, the air was so clear that Perry distinctly saw the long feathered arrow shaken out of the condor's white wing, and fall slowly down into the depths of the gorge, while the great bird literally shot up for some distance, and then glided over a shoulder of the mountain they were flanking, and disappeared.

The Indian looked at Perry and shook his head, as he muttered some words which were easily interpreted.

"Lost my arrow, and did not get my bird."

"And a good thing too," said Perry. "It would have been of no use, and only wanton destruction."

The man nodded and smiled as if Perry's words were full of sympathy for his loss. But they fell upon other ears as well, for the colonel was close behind.

"Rather misdirected sympathy, I'm afraid, Perry, my lad," he said. "The bird would have been no use to us, but I dare say its death would have saved the lives of a good many young vicunas and llamas."

Perry stared for a moment or two, and then: "Oh yes, I know. Do they live up in these mountains?"

"Yes, you'll see plenty by-and-by."

"Sort of goats, aren't they, father?"

"Well, my boy, they partake more of the nature of a camel or sheep, as you'll say whenever you see the long-necked, flat-backed creatures. But it's getting time for camping. The mules are growing sluggish, and sniffing about for food."

"I hope we shan't camp here," said Perry with a shiver.

"Not an attractive place, but I daresay Diego has some spot marked out in his eye, for he has evidently been along here a good many times before."

Ten minutes later, as the snowy peaks which came into view began to grow of a bright orange in the western sunshine, one of the mules in front uttered a whinnying squeal, and the rest p.r.i.c.ked up their ears and increased their pace.

"Steady there! Wo-ho!" shouted John Manning. "Hadn't we better sound a halt, sir, or some of 'em 'll be over the side of the path."

"I think we may trust them; they smell gra.s.s or something ahead, and know it is their halting-place."

"But look at that brown 'un, sir; he's walking right out from under his load."

A few hitches, though, and a tightening of the hide ropes, kept the loosened pack in its place; and soon after, to Perry's great delight, the gorge opened out into a bright green valley, where, a snug, well-sheltered nook being selected, the mules were once more unloaded, and a fire lit. Then, thanks to John Manning's campaigning cleverness, before the light on the mountain tops quite died out, they were seated at a comfortable meal, with a good fire crackling and burning between them and the Indians, wood for once in a way being fairly plentiful, there being a little forest of dense scrubby trees low down by the stream which coursed through the bottom of the valley.

"Not quite such a savage-looking place, Master Perry," said John Manning, when the colonel had taken his gun and gone for a final look round before they retired to their blankets on the hard ground.

"Savage! Why, it's beautiful," cried Perry, who had been watching the colours die out on one snowy peak.

"Yes, sir, I suppose it is," said the man, shaking his head; "but we didn't take all the trouble to see things look beautiful. We can do that at home. What I'm thinking is that the place don't look healthy."

"Not healthy? Up here in the mountains?"

"Tchah! I don't mean that way, sir; I mean healthy for your pocket.

This looks like a place where you might have a farm and gardens, and keep sheep. You'd never come here to search for di'monds, and sapphires, and things."

"N-no," a.s.sented Perry.

"O' course not. We want good wild broken stone muddle over rocky places, where you have to let yourselves down with ropes."

"Or ride down on rocs' backs, eh, John?"

"Yes, sir, that's your sort. We've pa.s.sed several good wholesome-looking places that I should have liked to have hunted over; but of course the colonel knows best, and he is leading us somewhere for us to have a regular good haul. Tired, sir?"

"Yes, pretty well, but one feels as if one could go on walking a long way up in these mountains."

"Well, sir, we've got every chance, and I'd just as soon walk as get across one of these mules, with your legs swinging, and the thin, wiry-boned crittur wriggling about under you. I always feel as if my one was groaning to himself, and looking out for a good place where he could thrust his hind-legs up and send me flying over his head into the air, where he could watch me turn somersaults till I got to the bottom."

"Oh, they're quiet enough," said Perry.

"Oh, are they, sir? Don't you tell me. My one never misses a chance of rubbing my leg up against a corner, and when he has done there, he goes to the other extreme and walks right along the edge, so that my other leg is hanging over the side; and if I look down, I get giddy, and expect that every moment over we shall both go."