The Web of the Golden Spider Part 32

He paused to see what effect this had. Wilson nodded for him to go on.

"Then we'll take another p'int; this here map starts from the hut where the heathen image lived. Wherefore we've got ter find thet hut afore we can start. We've gotter lay our course from thet. So, says I, there's jus' one thing ter do--hunt fer it lively."

"On the other hand," broke in Wilson, "if Sorez is in danger, the girl is in danger. The treasure is going to be here for a while longer, but maybe the girl won't. If we could combine forces with Sorez----"

"Well, I'm d.a.m.ned!" growled Stubbs. "See here, m' boy, the only thing that will do is to bring the Priest down on _us._ If Sorez wasn't crazy, he wouldn't have come in here with thet idol with less than a regiment back of him. But he has, an' what we wanter do is ter keep outer the squall he's in."

"You don't understand the man. He is absolutely fearless. He knows the place--he knows the natives--he knows the Priest. He won't be caught napping."

"Maybe so. Then he don't need us."

Wilson sprang to his feet. He was half ashamed of an obsession which shut out thought of everything else but the girl.

"See here, Stubbs," he blurted out, "you're right and I'm a sickly sentimentalist. I've been thinking so much of her that I'm not fit for an expedition of this sort. But from now on I'm under your orders.

We'll get this heathen treasure--and we'll take it down and show it to Sorez--and we'll take the girl and fight our way out if we have to. As you say, we haven't much time and we've got to work hard. We know the hut is near the cone and overlooks the lake. Let's see----"

He reached for the map which he had fastened about his neck, but Stubbs checked his hand.

"Easy, boy. Jus' as well not to let the shadders know we has maps.

I've gut my copy here hidden in the gra.s.s. S'posin' the hut is in the center; this here docyment mentions two peaks--one 'kissed by the sun'

which I take it is the highest, and t' other where 'the trees climb highest.' Now at sea we often lays our course insh.o.r.e by jus' sech marks. I figgers it out this way; these p'ints bein' startin' p'ints from the hut mus' be somewhere nigh the hut. So if we finds the tallest peak on the horizon an' then the peak on the cone where the trees come up the farthest an' gits the two in line, we'll have a straight course for the hut. Ain't thet so?"

"Sounds right."

"Maybe it is; maybe it ain't. Anyhow, it's wuth tryin'. Now I'm for givin' the burros lots er rope an' lettin' 'em nibble here. Then we'll hide our provisions in one place an' our ammunition in another and start immedjiate. I 'spect there's a dozen of them n.i.g.g.e.rs watchin'

us. We'll take a good look roun' fore we begin."

Both men beat the bushes for the radius of a hundred rods or more without, however, bringing to light anything but a few birds. Then Stubbs piled the provisions and blankets together with the picks and shovels into a crevice between the rocks and covered them with dry leaves and bits of sticks. He made another reconnoitre before hiding the ammunition. This he finally buried in another crevice, covering it so skillfully that not a leaf beneath which it lay looked as though it had been disturbed. He piled a few stones in one place, notched a tree in another, and left a bit of his handkerchief in a third spot, to mark the cache. Then, shouldering their rifles, the two men began the ascent.

Refreshed by their rest and the brisk morning air, they reached the summit easily and once again Wilson gazed down upon the lake now reflecting golden sunbeams until it looked as though it were of molten gold itself. Even Stubbs was moved by its beauty.

"Sorter makes you feel like worshipin' suthin' yerself," he exclaimed.

But he was the practical one of the two, or they would have got no further. His eyes swept the surrounding circle of peaks until they rested upon a majestic pile which so clearly overtopped its fellows as to leave no doubt that this must be the one "kissed by the sun." To the right from where they stood the second landmark was equally distinct, the green creeping up its sides several hundred rods higher than upon the others.

"There ye are!" he exclaimed, pointing them out to Wilson. "Clear as though they was labeled. An' now we can't stand here admirin' the scenery. There ain't no trolley to where we're bound."

He led the way, keeping as closely as possible to the crater's edge.

But the path was a rugged one and frequently broken by half-hidden ravines which often drove them down and in a wide circle around. It was a place for sure feet and sound nerves for they skirted the edge of sheer falls of hundreds of feet. Before they reached a position opposite the crater peak, they found themselves almost down to the green line again. Here they discovered a sort of trail--scarcely marked more than a sheep path, but still fairly well outlined. They followed this to the top again. When they looked down upon the lake and across to the distant summit, they found the two landmarks in line. But neither to the right nor to the left could they see the hut--that magnet which had drawn them for so many miles over the sea.

Stubbs looked disconsolate.

"Well," he said finally, "jus' my luck. Mighter known better."

"But we haven't given up yet," said Wilson. "Did you expect to find a driveway leading to it? You get out to the right and I'll explore to the left."

Stubbs had not been gone more than ten minutes before he heard a shout from Wilson and hurrying to his side found him peering into a small stone hut scarcely large enough to hold more than a single man.

As the two stood there they felt for the first time the possibilities which lay before them. The quest loomed larger and more real than ever before. From a half ghost treasure it became a reality. As the first actual proof of the verity of the map which they possessed it gave them a keener vision of what was to come.

"Lord, if it should be true!" gasped Stubbs.

"Man--man, it is!" cried Wilson. "I feel it tingling through every vein. We are on the very edge of the biggest treasure a man ever found!"

"What--did the paper say there was? Can you remember?"

"Gold plate and jewels--over six hundred pieces. No one knows how valuable they are. Each one might be a fortune in itself."

"Gawd!"

Stubbs sat down on the threshold of the little hut. He drew out his pipe.

"Let's jus' think on 't a minute," he said.

It was not so much the money value these things represented that appealed to the men. They could not grasp that. Nor was it the intrinsic beauty of the objects themselves. It was just the thrilling consciousness of being within that golden zone which had been sought by so many during so many centuries. Men from the four corners of the earth had come in search of what now lay within a day's reach of them; brave men, men who had made history. Yet they had failed; the mountains had kept their secret and the little blue lake had laughed at their efforts.

Wilson broke the spell. He was feverish with the desire to go farther.

It was the exciting finish to a long race; the last move in a puzzle which had challenged men for centuries.

"The map, Stubbs! We mustn't stop here now."

Stubbs put up his pipe and unrolled once more the bit of parchment.

The directions now seemed brutally calm.

"From where the peaks kiss," he read, "take one hundred strides to the right."

"We must go back to there," said Wilson. "Come on."

He led the way at a run. This starting point was a distance of several hundred yards from the hut itself. From there Wilson took the stated number of steps. He stopped with a start upon the brink of a hidden precipice. The chasm was narrow, scarcely ten feet wide, and from where he stood slanted so that the bottom could not be seen. But a little way to the right of here one looked into a sheer drop which ended in darkness. Wilson wiped his forehead.

"I guess we had better remember what the Priest says about those with unsteady steps. Another yard and I would have gone down."

But Stubbs was again bending over the map.

"The brave do not falter," it read, "for the seeming is not always the true. The path leads down twice the length of a man's body, then ten paces to the left. Again the seeming is not true, for it leads back again and under."

"Lord!" exclaimed Stubbs, "Why couldn't he put this in plain English.

There is no sense in that."

"The path leads down," repeated Wilson. "That can mean but one thing; it leads over the edge here."

"To what? You get into that hole an'----"

"Let's have a closer look."

The opposite side was smooth and sloped in so that it was lost beneath the side upon which they stood. A man dropping over would strike this slanting surface.

"If we had brought a bit of rope now."

"We'll have to take the next best thing," said Wilson. "Peel off your coat."