THE MAN IN THE CRATER
When the sun plunged into the masses of yellowish mist that clung to
the rim of the crater a bright moon was already high in the heavens.
The transformation from day to night was sudden, for in the tropics
the light fades abruptly, and darkness swoops upon the land almost as
a black cloud scurrying across the face of the sun obliterates the
brilliant radiance in a short space of time.
The soft moonlight, in streaks and splashes, and the long, creeping
shadows made the floor of the crater seem weird and unreal. A streak
of silvery light lay across the smooth surface of the lake, and as the
two men, crouching on the narrow ledge, gazed in fascination at it, the
mirror-like water was broken by ripples that appeared here and there
like little pools and lines of sparkling jewels. The creatures that
were coming out for their nocturnal frolic, but which could not be
clearly distinguished, swam in circles or straight lines and dived with
great splashes. Only their heads, like black dots, could be seen on the
surface of the water.
“They may be some kind of a muskrat, like the _nutria_ of the
Argentine, or like the water opossums,” Stanley suggested. “Whatever
they are, they do not seem to be afraid of anything, for, look, one is
heading for the shore.”
“I suppose the tigers don’t bother them; they are too small to make
even a mouthful.”
A herd of very large, black animals, with low-swinging heads and short,
curved horns suddenly hove into sight. They emerged from a clump of
forest in a long, straggling formation, and moved to the centre of the
largest clearing.
“Buffaloes,” Stanley gasped. “A herd of buffaloes. But what are they
doing out in the open?”
“I should think they would hide at night, like the other animals we
saw. But they do not seem to be worrying about anything.”
A shrill wail rose clear and piercing from somewhere in the darkness
and echoed back and forth among the rocky walls. It was not repeated.
“That sounds like a puma,” Ted hazarded after listening in vain for a
repetition of the cry. “I wonder what next!”
Just then one of the buffaloes gave a sharp bellow of alarm. The herd
became charged with life instantly, and rushed into a compact mass so
quickly it was impossible to follow their movements. But when they
again became quiet it was seen that they were standing in a solidly
packed circle. The cows and calves were in the centre, and the males,
facing outward with lowered heads and bristling horns, formed an
unbroken stockade around them.
“Now I see their scheme,” Stanley exclaimed. “They have taken their
stand for the night out in the open, where they have a chance for their
lives. I doubt if even the sabre-tooths would dare charge that front of
horns and hoofs. In the forest they could pick them off singly without
much trouble, but----”
A small stone struck Ted’s shoulder, dropped to the ledge, bounded off,
and rattled down to the ground.
“Where did that come from?” he asked with a start.
They looked up along the face of the stone wall, but saw nothing.
“Just a loose fragment,” Stanley explained with a nervous laugh.
“Probably small pieces are dropping all of the time, or an owl may have
started it in alighting.”
Again they strained their eyes toward the moonlit floor of the crater.
“I don’t remember seeing that stone before--the one right below and a
little to the left.”
“Nor I. But it must have been there, just the same, for stones can’t
walk.”
“How smooth and round it looks. The moonlight and shadows make it
appear more conspicuous than before; that is why we notice it now.”
“Yes; I guess you are right.”
Another pebble came rattling down from above, struck the ledge, and
bounded down into the crater.
“There is something up there. Stones like that would not drop one at
a time unless something started them,” Ted whispered. “I am going to
watch the top while you keep your eyes on the bottom.”
But a short time elapsed. Stanley nudged his companion.
“Look!” he whispered. “The smooth, round stone is moving. It is
creeping along as stealthily as the shadows themselves, and it is
coming in our direction. It must be an animal of some kind.”
“There is one above, too,” Ted returned with bated breath. “They are
stalking us from the top and the bottom.”
Stanley quickly looked upward. What he saw made him gasp. A massive
head was clearly outlined against the dark rock of the wall, and a pair
of eyes, blazing with a green fire, seemed to pierce him through.
“The guns, the guns; quick!” he panted, “before it springs. Don’t mind
the one below----”
Ted was tugging at his weapon.
“I can’t. I can’t point it straight up. The angle is too great.”
“Kneel down. I will rest it on your shoulder.”
Stanley pulled one of the guns from its mount. The great head was now
hanging over the edge of the shelf on which the creature stood, not ten
feet above them, and from it came a rumbling growl accompanied by a
clicking and champing of strong teeth.
Ted had dropped to his knees. Stanley was flat on his back trying to
bring the bead through the ring sight of the gun. But the high lights
and shadows were deceptive, and before he could align the sights the
glowing eyes had vanished again. The tiger had drawn back for the
spring.
“Back! Flatten yourself against the wall,” he shouted, throwing himself
against the face of the cliff and dragging Ted with him.
Something whizzed through the air; there came a crunching thud, and
then a roar that seemed to make the earth tremble shattered the
death-like silence that had reigned in the crater. An instant later
a huge, dark form catapulted past the crouching men, heavily struck
the edge of the narrow shelf, and fell to the ground with a crash.
Something had gone awry; either the brute had miscalculated the
distance or its footing had given away, and the fall of such a heavy
creature from the great height must have hurt it sorely.
With one accord the two men pulled themselves to the edge and looked
down. They were just in time to see what they had at first mistaken for
a stone rise to its feet, give one snarl of rage, and then spring upon
the mass that had fallen from above and was thrashing about helplessly
on the ground.
As it shot through the air, white teeth, like long daggers, glistened
in the sides of the wide-open mouth. There was no mistake. They were
face to face with the sabre-toothed tigers.
[Illustration: An instant later a huge, dark form catapulted past the
crouching men]
Screams and snarls, hoarse bellowings and roars cut short by gurgling
blood filled the air, mingled with the sound of the heavy, struggling
bodies. The brutes were in a deadly embrace, and rolled over and over
on the rock-strewn ground, biting, clawing, and tearing at one another
with all the ferocity of their savage nature. The onlookers could not
tell whether this was the settling of an ancient grudge, or if the
tiger that had been on the ground had quickly realized the helplessness
of the one that had fallen from above, and had taken advantage of the
opportunity to easily rid the crater of one of its own kind, of which
there may have been more than the limited space could conveniently
support.
The combat was terrifying, even from a safe distance, but of short
duration. The aggressor finished his work in short order. To the
ears of the spellbound watchers came the sound of crunching bones
and rending flesh, mingled with cries of agony and fear. And from a
distance rose the mournful wail of a lone wolf, doubtlessly watching
the battle and impatiently waiting for its end so that it might feast
on the remains of the loser. Shadowy forms, also, were flitting
noiselessly through the air, coming apparently from nowhere. They, too,
were awaiting their share of the spoils.
A few additional plunges of the sword-like teeth and the tiger that
now was underneath lay still. Then the victor arose, shook himself,
and calmly walked away a few paces, faced the centre of the crater and
announced his supremacy with an ear-splitting roar. But was it really
the proclaiming of the winning of a battle with one of his own kind, or
did the thunderous voice convey a challenge? Looking in the direction
toward which the brute had turned, the two on the ledge understood the
situation in a flash. In front of the terrible creature, and not fifty
yards away, stood a man.
For a moment the tiger stood still, as if planning its strategy, then
it advanced with measured steps, moving its head from side to side and
growling the while. But the man did not stir; he had taken an arrow
from a pack that he carried slung over one shoulder, and was fitting
it, without haste, to his bow.
Ted and Stanley stared in horror. Who was the man who had dared venture
into the crater, alone and at night, and who now calmly faced the most
powerful as well as most savage of all the earth’s living creatures,
armed with but a bow and a handful of arrows? Surely, he must be
demented, for any man in his right senses would know that such weapons
were of little avail against such an adversary.
At five paces from its victim the tiger stopped. It crouched low.
The head was resting between the forepaws; the tail, which was short
and thick, twitched nervously from side to side. Was the great beast
surprised and puzzled by the audacity of the mancreature? Or was it
preparing for the spring?
The man, without haste, raised his bow, grasping the tough wooden arc
and the shaft of the arrow with his left hand while with his right he
began steadily and firmly to draw back the cord. The upper part of his
body was bare, and there was the rippling play of powerful muscles in
arms and shoulders straining to the limit of endurance.
_Crack!_ The arrow fell to the ground and the bow straightened with a
twang. The string had snapped under the terrific strain. The weapon was
useless. But the man was not dismayed by the misfortune. He threw it
from him and calmly drew a short sword from his belt; then he crouched
forward to await the onslaught of the tiger.
Stanley sprang to his gun and Ted was not long in following his action.
“We must save him,” the former shrieked.
A string of shots rattled forth in quick succession as pointed
tongues of flame leaped from the muzzle of the gun. Another followed
immediately and the gunners took their eyes from the sights and
anxiously looked for the result of the fusillade. Some of the bullets
had found their mark. The great beast was rolling on its back, clawing
the air with frantic and convulsive movements, and tearing at its own
shoulders and sides. Screams of pain came from its throat. But its
struggles did not last long. It lay still save for an occasional moan
and quiver, then even these signs of life stopped.
“Run! Run for your life!” Stanley shouted to the man. “There may be
another one near by. Come this way. There is a ladder at the foot of
the cliff.”
“I am not afraid,” the man replied. “I came here to fight the demons.”
“But your bow is useless; you have only a knife, and that is little
more than worthless against such creatures.”
“I will come up to you because I want to talk with you. After that I
shall return to the crater.”
The man started toward them in a leisurely manner.
“I never saw such courage before. It borders on recklessness.”
“He must be crazy or trying to do away with himself,” Ted said
emphatically. “Wonder who he can be?”
“The voice sounded familiar. I am sure I have heard it before, often.
Do you realize that he saved our lives? The _whiz_ we heard over our
heads just as the tiger above us was about to spring was caused by an
arrow. He saw our position and knew that it was hopeless, so he shot
at the animal and wounded it; that destroyed its aim and it missed us,
barely striking the edge of the shelf and falling to the ground. If it
hadn’t been for him the brute should have dropped on top of us.”
“Well, it was a narrow escape, and I am glad we were able to repay the
fellow in kind. But I want to meet him and thank him for his action,
anyway.”
There was the scraping of the tall pole-ladder against the face of the
rock, and a moment later the man’s head and shoulders appeared over the
rim of the ledge. The two grasped his hands and helped him up.
His face was youthful. Ted and Stanley knew they had seen it somewhere.
And his body, while inclined to be slender, was of strong, athletic
build. His only article of clothing was a short tunic of a dark color,
so tattered that it hung from him in strips and fringes of thread.
“You killed the demon,” he said in a voice touched with sadness. “Why
did you do it?”
“To save you, of course. Your weapon was broken. You had only a sword
left. And, anyway, you saved our lives, so we were but repaying an
honorable debt,” Stanley said in surprise.
“I was not afraid. I am not a coward.”
“No one could ever call you a coward after seeing what we saw. But it
was only natural that we should see your danger and do what we could
to help you out of it. A man armed with only a sword would have small
chance against such a large, ferocious beast.”
“I was not afraid to die. It would not have mattered, anyway,” the man
said sadly.
“Tell us,” Stanley urged, “how did you happen to be in the crater at
this time of the night, and alone?”
“To prove to myself that, no matter what I may have been or may have
done in the past, I am not a coward at heart.”
“No one called you a coward.”
“Yes, imploring your forgiveness for the contradiction. You called me
that very loathsome thing.”
“I?” in surprise. “When?”
The man hesitated. His demeanor was so humble and he appeared so
downcast that the two were sorry for him.
“I will take it all back,” Stanley apologized, holding out his hand.
“You are as courageous as any one I have ever seen.”
“Do you not know me?” The man came a few steps nearer and turned his
face full into the moonlight. “Look into my face. I am Quizquiz!”
“Quizquiz!” both the Americans exclaimed in astonishment.
“Yes.”
“Impossible.”
“Look closely! Now do you recognize me?” He came still nearer and
quietly submitted to their scrutiny.
“As I live, it is Quizquiz, but it cannot be the one we knew.”
Stanley could hardly believe his eyes. “The Quizquiz who was king was
treacherous, cruel, cowardly, and bloodthirsty; the person who stands
before us has proved by his actions to-night that he does not know
fear, at least, and such valor must have other noble qualities for
companions.”
“The same body, but not the same spirit, stands before you. Yesterday I
was king, with all the evil traits you mentioned, and more too. To-day,
I rank with the lowliest--I am nobody in the sight of men, but I have
found my true self. That is worth all it cost.”
“Tell us, how did you get into the crater?”
“When, at your command, the sun became darkened, I was seized with
panic and fled, blinded by fear and terror. I knew not where I went.
And when daylight came again I found myself in this frightful place.
Fearing pursuit, I hid in the first crevice in the rocks--it would
scarcely admit my body--and waited. Darkness came and with it great
monsters emerged from their lairs in the caves. First one, then
another, found my hiding-place, but the opening was too small to admit
their massive heads. There they stood, screaming and roaring, and
blowing their hot breath into my face until I fainted. When I came
to, the demons had gone; soon they returned carrying in their mouths
the bodies of the luckless soldiers they had slain in the valley.
One stopped not ten paces from my place of concealment and, in full
view, proceeded to eat its victim; for minutes that seemed like ages
I was compelled to lie quietly with the sound of tearing flesh and
splintering bones in my ears. And then it came to me suddenly, like
the lightning flash in the sky. I was to blame for all this. It was
my wrong-doings that had caused untold discontent and suffering in my
kingdom. With vainglorious pride I had listened to the flatterers,
had followed their suggestions, and had rewarded them lavishly at the
expense of the wise, the just, and the good. It was too late to undo
these wrongs or to right the injustices of which I had been guilty; but
I still had the opportunity to prove to myself that I could be a worthy
son of Huayna Capac, then return and ask for a merited punishment. My
spirit is now at ease.”
“Villac Umu was the cause of your downfall, was he not?”
“He was my instructor and adviser so long back as I can remember.”
“Were you not governed entirely by his advice?”
“I blame only myself. As king, I was not compelled to listen to any
one. I alone am responsible for everything, and deserve the most
merciless punishment.”
“Of course you realize that you are no longer king. You are a fugitive
from justice, while we are now masters. The tables are turned. You
prepared the most fiendish torture that could be devised for us;
naturally you must expect us to treat you in the same manner.”
“I am in your hands. Do as you see fit.”
Quizquiz fumbled at his belt; then he fell upon his knees.
“On bended knees I give to you the crimson fringe to which I have no
further right. Take it, wear it, and may your God and mine protect you.”
His head was bowed in deepest humiliation. In his extended hand he held
the _borla_, the Inca’s badge of authority.
Stanley took it almost reverently.
“Quizquiz”--Stanley’s voice was tense with emotion--“we are not
unmindful of the fact that to-night you were the means of saving our
lives, and we are not ungrateful. But neither can we forget your
previous character. The welfare of a nation depends upon us. We cannot
sacrifice it. You admitted your guilt; you deserve the severest
punishment possible. Therefore, you will now consider yourself our
prisoner. Do you consent to arrest, or shall we use violence?”
“I give myself into your keeping freely, and I know that the worst
you can do to me will not be half so much as I deserve. Here are my
hands--bind them--then my feet, too.”
“No, we shall not bind you. We are not afraid of you, or that you will
escape. Go to the far end of the ledge and sit down with your back
toward the wall. Our guns will be trained upon you; one move, and you
die, understand?”
“Your words are very plain. I will do as you command,” and he took up
his station in the spot indicated.
Ted and Stanley, while never for an instant relaxing their vigilance,
discussed at length the amazing turn events had taken. The problem that
confronted them was a perplexing one. Had they encountered the old
Quizquiz they had known it would have been an easy matter to dispose
of him. But the new Quizquiz was a different person, endowed with the
very virtues the other had lacked. There was also this to consider: was
he sincere? Would his goodness last, or was he but playing a game with
the hope of regaining the throne, when his old character should again
assert itself in all its viciousness?
The problem, therefore, that they discussed far into the night, but for
which they were unable to find the solution, was: “What shall we do
with Quizquiz?”