The Golden Magnet Part 41

I should think that four hours must have elapsed, and then, at one and the same moment, I heard Tom's whisper and saw the distant glimmer of approaching lights.

"Look out, Mas'r Harry!"

The lights grew brighter moment by moment, and then we could see once more the party of Indians coming slowly forward, headed by Garcia, upon whose fierce face the torch he carried flashed again and again.

But it soon became evident that the Indians were advancing very unwillingly; and more than once, when, alarmed by the light, one of the great birds went flapping and screaming by, there was a suppressed yell, and the men crowded together as if for mutual protection.

At last they stood together in the centre of the vault, and Garcia made a hasty survey, pausing at last by the pa.s.sage, where we watched him hold up his light and peer down it, and then turn to his companions.

The conversation we could not understand, but it was evident that Garcia was urging them to follow him, and that they refused.

"Say, Mas'r Harry," whispered Tom, "why, if we could be in the bird-chamber and fire off both guns, how those n.i.g.g.e.rs would cut and run like a lot of schoolboys."

"Hist!" I said softly.

For Garcia was now evidently appealing most strongly to one who appeared to be the leader of the Indians--a tall, bronzed giant of a fellow, who pointed, waved his arms about, and made some long reply.

"I'd give something to understand all that, Mas'r Harry," whispered Tom.

"He says that if the senor's enemies and the searchers for the sacred treasure are in this direction, the great spirit who dwells in this part of the cave has flown with them down into the great hole that reaches right through the world."

"Uncle!" I exclaimed, as he whispered these words close to our ears.

"I was uneasy about you, Harry," he replied. "But who is that--Garcia?

Ah! he will never get the Indians to come here. They dread this gloomy place, and believe it is full of the departed souls of their tribe. I have heard that they will never come beyond a certain point, and this must be the point."

Standing where we did we could plainly see all that was taking place, even to the working of the excited countenances. Garcia was evidently furious with disappointment, and, as my uncle afterwards informed me, spared neither taunt nor promise in his endeavours to get the Indians forward, telling them that they risked far more from their G.o.ds by leaving the treasure-takers unpunished than by going in there after them. He told them that they must proceed now--that it was imperative, and as he spoke in a low, deep voice, it gave us a hint as to our own remarks, for the cavern was like some great whispering gallery, and his words came plainly to us, though few of them were intelligible to my ear.

All Garcia's efforts seemed to be in vain, and the Indians were apparently about to return, when our enemy made a last appeal.

"No," said the Indian, who was certainly the leader; "we have done our part. We have chased them to the home of the great G.o.d Illapa, and he will punish them. They took away the great treasure, but have they not brought it back? It would be offending him, and bringing down his wrath upon us, if we did more. If the treasure-seekers should escape, then we would seize them; but they will not, for yonder is the great void where Illapa dwells; and those who in olden times once dared to go as far were swallowed up in the great home of thunder."

The Indian spoke reverently and with a display of dignity, beside which the rage and gesticulations of Garcia looked contemptible.

As a last resource it seemed to strike him that he would once more have the bird-chamber searched, and, appealing to the Indians, they unwillingly climbed up to the ledge for the second time, and disappeared through the rift, leaving Garcia, torch in one hand and pistol in the other, guarding the pa.s.sage where we crouched; now walking to and fro, now coming close up to enter a few yards, holding his light above his head; but darkness and silence were all that greeted him. I trembled, though, lest he should hear the whinnying of the mules, which, though distant, might have reached to where he stood. At last, to our great relief, he stepped back into the vault, and began to pace to and fro.

For full two hours Garcia walked impatiently up and down there by the torch he had stuck in the sand at the mouth of the pa.s.sage, and then came the murmurs of the returning voices of the savages, accompanied by shriek after shriek of the frightened birds, scared by the lights which were intruding upon their domain.

As the searching party descended, Garcia hurried towards them, seeing evidently at a glance that they had no tidings, but now using every art he could command to persuade the chief to follow him. He pointed and gesticulated, a.s.serting apparently that he felt a certainty of our being in the farther portion of the pa.s.sage where his torch was stuck. But always there was the same grave courtesy, mingled with a solemnity of demeanour on the chief's part, as if the subject of the inner cavern was not to be approached without awe.

"We are safe, Harry," my uncle breathed in my ear at last.

For it was plain that, satisfied that their work was done, the Indians were about to depart, when, apparently half mad with rage and disappointment, Garcia c.o.c.ked the pistols he had in his belt, replaced them, and then, gun in one hand and torch in the other, he strode towards the pa.s.sage, evidently with the intention of exploring it alone.

The next moment a wild and mournful cry arose from the savage party, while their chief seemed staggered at Garcia's boldness, but recovering himself, he dashed forward, caught the half-breed by the arm, and strove to drag him back.

CHAPTER FORTY FIVE.

TAKING A PRISONER.

A fierce struggle ensued, during which, for a few moments, the Indian proved the stronger. Garcia's torch was extinguished, and the savage held him by clasping his arms tightly round his waist. Then, with an effort, Garcia shook his adversary off, s.n.a.t.c.hed up a torch stuck in the sand, and was already half a dozen yards down the pa.s.sage, with our party in full retreat, when, with a yell of horror, the chief bounded after him, overtook him, and the struggle began anew.

An instant more and Garcia's gun exploded, raising a roar of thundering echoes that was absolutely terrific. Rolling volley after volley seemed to follow one another with the rapidity of thought, the very cavern appeared about to be crushed in, and, as we paused for an instant to gaze back, we could see the chief and all his followers upon their knees, their faces bent to the sand, and a dismal wailing chorus of "Illapa! Illapa! Illapa!"--the Indians' name for the G.o.d of thunder-- could be fairly heard mingling with the rolling of the echoes.

The chief was in the same position, with a burning torch close to his head, for which Garcia now returned, and stood for a moment hesitating, as he gazed at the prostrate figures behind.

Would he dare to come on? or would he retreat? were now the questions we asked ourselves.

The answer came in an instant, for Garcia was coming slowly on. He paused for a few minutes when he reached the spot where we had watched from, and, stooping behind the rocks, he reloaded his piece; then, with his light above his head and his gun held ready, he pressed on, lighting us, though we were invisible to him, as we kept about fifty yards in advance.

Twice over Tom wanted to fire; but he was restrained, for we hoped that, moment by moment, Garcia would hesitate and turn back. But no; there was still the fierce satanic face, with its retiring forehead and shortly-cut black hair, glistening in the torchlight, ever coming forward out of the darkness, peering right and left, the torch now held down to seek for footprints in the sand, now to search behind some ma.s.s of crags.

On came the light nearer and nearer, illumining the gloomy pa.s.sage, and sending before it the dark shadows of the rocks in many a grotesque form.

From where I stooped I could just catch sight of the sardonic face, with its rolling eyes, which scanned every cranny and crag. Twenty yards-- ten yards--five yards--he was close at hand now, when from far-off came the low whinny of a mule, followed directly by another.

In an instant Garcia stopped short to listen. Then the sardonic smile upon his face grew more p.r.o.nounced, and, casting off his hesitation, he once more stepped forward nearer--nearer, till his torch, elevated as it was, shed its light upon us. But he did not yet distinguish us from the rock around, and the next two steps bore him past, when his eye fell upon the flash of light from my gun-barrel, and, with an e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n in Spanish, he turned upon me, and we were face to face. But ere his heart could have made many pulsations Tom's coat was over his head, the torch fell to the ground, to lie burning feebly upon the soil, there was a fierce struggle, and the swaying to and fro of wrestlers, the torch was trampled out, and then in the darkness there was the sound of a heavy fall, and, panting with exertion, Tom exclaimed:

"I'm sitting on his head, Mas'r Harry, and he can't bite now. Just you tie his legs together with your handkercher."

I had thrown the gun aside, and, in spite of a few frantic plunges, succeeded in firmly binding the ankles of the prostrate man together.

"Now, Mas'r Harry," whispered Tom, "take hold of one arm--hold it tight--and we'll turn him over on his face, and tie his hands behind his back. Hold tight, for he's a slippery chap, and he'll make another fight for it. He got away from me once, but I had him again directly.

Now, then, over with him! Here, ask your uncle to hold his legs down."

There was a heave, a struggle, and then a half-suffocated voice exclaimed:

"Tom! Harry! are you both mad?"

"Oh, Tom!" I e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed; "what have you done?"

"Ketched the wrong bird, Mas'r Harry, and no mistake," muttered Tom, as he hastily set my uncle at liberty. "It was that darkness as done it.

He slipped away like an eel just as the light went out."

"Never mind," gasped my uncle. "But what muscles you boys have!"

"He did not go towards the entrance," I whispered excitedly, "and I have his gun. If we are careful we shall have him yet."

Then I could not help shuddering as I rejoiced over the merciful policy we had determined upon; for I thought how easily we might have caused the death of one of our own party.

"It was an unlucky mistake, lads," whispered my uncle; "but we must have him, living or dead."

The rest of the way to where we had left the companions of our trial was so narrow that by pressing cautiously forward I knew that we must encounter Garcia sooner or later.

As we reached the part where the track ran along a ledge we divided, Tom continuing to walk along the ledge to where it terminated in the rocky tongue over the great gulf, while my uncle and I, trembling for those we loved, continued our search by the side of the little stream till we were where the pa.s.sage widened into the vault where the mules were concealed, when I stopped short, my uncle going forward to search the vault, while I stayed to cut off the enemy's retreat, or to spring up the ledge to the help of Tom.

I heard my uncle's whisper, and one or two timid replies, and then came an interval of anxious silence before my uncle crept back to me.