THE END.
Templemore was carried, with much difficulty, to 'Monella Lodge,' where
an attack of fever supervened, and it was nearly two weeks before the
doctor pronounced him out of danger.
Carenna came over from her village to nurse him, and tended him as
devotedly as she had Leonard. In the height of the fever he raved
constantly of the great devil-tree, of gigantic serpents, of Monella,
and of 'lost souls'; and, mixed up with all, were a number of names
strange to those who listened to him; for he had been too ill when
found in the cavern to give more than a brief idea of the adventures he
had passed through.
While he lay upon his bed of sickness, anxious friends watched from
the mountain top for tidings of his fate, but received no intelligible
answers to their signals; for none of those now with Templemore knew
how to reply to them. Thus it was not till he was convalescent and
well enough to be taken out into the open air, that any interchange of
messages became possible.
Those below, looking up, day after day had seen little flashes of
light, of which they could make nothing; but now Templemore explained
their meaning. A search in the cabin brought to light the mirror
Monella had thoughtfully packed up and hidden carefully away; and
Templemore was thus able at last to open communication with his Roraima
friends.
His first signalled message to them brought back the reply:--
"_Heaven be praised! We are all so thankful! We have mourned you
as dead! And we are in great affliction, besides, for Monella, the
great, great-hearted Mellenda, is dead! He died peacefully the day
after you went away._"
Then, presently, when Templemore had sent back a message of sorrow and
condolence, another came.
"_The whole valley at the bottom of the canyon is half-filled up.
It would take years to clear it. And we pictured you as lying dead
beneath it all!_"
Many messages passed to and fro during the remainder of the travellers'
stay; and then, after a time, Templemore having thoroughly recovered,
preparations were made for the journey back to the coast.
Both Carenna and Matava were grieved at the thought that Leonard had
remained on the mountain for good, and that they were never likely to
see him more. Carenna, alone, however, expressed no surprise. She told
Templemore that the deception as to Leonard she had practised upon
the good people who had received them so hospitably in their lonely
mountain retreat had, all her life, been a sore trouble to her. It was
some consolation to her, therefore, to know that he had, after all,
been led back to his own people. She at first refused the valuable
present Leonard had sent her, saying that to receive forgiveness was in
itself more than she had hoped for. But, needless to say, Templemore
persuaded her into accepting it. Matava's delight with what had
been sent him was unbounded; especially when Templemore told him
what treasures he could purchase with it: rifles, pistols, unbounded
supplies of powder, and unlimited tobacco, and other things that
Indians prize.
Meanwhile, Doctor Lorien and his son had been assiduous in collecting
specimens of all the botanical and zoological treasures with which the
neighbourhood of Roraima abounds; and, when the time for starting came,
they had good reason to be satisfied with the result. They might have
done still better, perhaps, if they had gone more into Roraima Forest;
but this they could not make up their minds to do. Indeed, they could
not venture far without an Indian guide; and this they could not get.
Neither Matava nor any one of the other Indians could be prevailed upon
to go into the wood again; and even the doctor was not very pressing.
All had had quite enough of the 'haunted wood.' For it now came out,
too, that Templemore had become a believer in the 'didi.' He declared
that more than once during his imprisonment in the cavern he had seen,
either at early morning or at dusk, strange human-like shapes--gigantic
apes--standing watching within the shadow of the trees.
Nothing, he said, would induce him to enter that wood again. And he
felt certain that only the fact that the entrance to the cavern was so
high from the ground had enabled him to escape with his life.
'Nea,' the puma, alone showed no fear of the gloomy forest. She went
hunting there daily, and nearly always returned with something to
reward her enterprise.
When all was ready for the start, two or three last messages passed
between the travellers and their friends upon the mountain.
"_Heaven keep you and all those dear to you! Your memory will always
be cherished by all here_," came from Leonard. To which Templemore
replied:--
"_Long life and happiness to you and your dear wife and all your
people._"
"_God bless you, Jack!_"
"_God bless you, Leonard!_"
Thus they finally parted; and a few hours later the homeward-bound
friends looked their last upon Roraima from the ridge near Daranato.
The mountain was lighted with the red rays of the setting sun and
towered up in glowing splendour. The greens of the wood at its base,
varied and vivid in colouring, as they were, contrasted with the pinks,
and purples, and reds of the precipitous walls above, that now looked
again like a fairy fortress in the clouds, smiling, and fascinating in
its light, aerial beauty.
"What a pity the city does not show!" said Harry. "What a glorious
sight it would make!"
"At least you have conquered the secret the mysterious mountain has so
long and so well concealed," Doctor Lorien observed to Templemore.
The latter gazed on the mountain gloomily. His mind went back to the
morning when he saw it first and the vague forebodings that had then
come into his mind.
"I don't know," he said doubtfully. "I have not brought away with me
the most wonderful secret of all--the 'Plant of Life.' When I think how
I was cheated out of that, by the mountain itself, as you may truly
say--for its very rocks came crashing down to prevent my escape, or
to kill me if I persisted; or at least, to insure my leaving nearly
everything behind--when I think of this, it seems to me that Roraima
has guarded most of its secrets pretty effectually, and I am almost
persuaded there is something uncanny about it."
Harry laughed at this; the more so that it came from Jack.
"That's very fanciful--for you," he returned. "If it had been Leonard,
now, I should not have been surprised."
"I am afraid my ideas of what is precisely practical and what is
fanciful have been a good deal modified," Jack confessed. "So would
yours, if you had passed through my experiences."
"Well, after all, perhaps you haven't lost much," Harry returned. "A
small bundle of dried plants wouldn't have been of much use, and as to
the seeds, if, as I understand you, they only thrive high up on the
mountains, I don't see what you were going to do with them. Moreover,
very likely they would have been eaten up by insects, or lost, or got
wetted and spoiled, or something, before you got back or could have
planted them in a likely spot."
Then they continued their journey, staying that night in Daranato,
where the great puma at first created a scare among the dusky
inhabitants, but, showing friendliness towards all, she was soon the
object of unbounded wonder and interest on every side.
Some two months later there was again a little dinner party at
'Meldona,' Mr. Kingsford's residence, and the same faces were gathered
round the hospitable board--all but Leonard Elwood's. Maud looked
charming and happy as she glanced, now and again, first at Jack
Templemore's bronzed face, and then at her brother, listening, not for
the first time now, to her lover's wondrous tale.
She and Stella had shuddered before at the accounts of the great tree
and its victims, and of the horrors of the 'haunted wood'; and had
talked of Ulama and Zonella, and wondered, again and again, what they
were like.
"Poor Leonard! I am sorry to lose him," Maud said. "Yet, I suppose,
he does not need pity; for he is to be envied in many ways. Fancy his
dreamings--about which we used to tease him so--coming true after all!"
"It is just a year ago to-day," observed Mr. Kingsford to the doctor,
"that you were at dinner here and first told us about that wondrous
stranger, Monella. We've had an anxious time ever since."
"I have never known a happy moment till you all came back the other
day," said Maud sadly. "I am so thankful that the cruel suspense is
ended at last. I have often recalled the words Dr. Lorien used about
Roraima; that 'its very name had come to be surrounded by a halo of
dread and indefinable fear.' I can truly declare that it has been so
with me. I, too, had come to hate and dread the very name. It has
seemed to me like a great, remorseless ogre that had swallowed up two
of our friends, and, as I feared, was going to swallow up my brother
and two more. Yet," she added, looking at Jack, "had I known how things
really were, had I known of your lying lamed, and ill, and alone in the
den in that horrible forest, I think I should have gone mad! What a
comfort to you this dear, faithful animal must have been!"
'Nea' was by her side, and she put her tear-stained face affectionately
down to the animal's head. The big puma had already established herself
as a favourite with every one in the house.
"Truly," returned Jack, "such thoughts occurred to me while I was
cooped up there. I couldn't help going over things in my mind; and,
when I considered how the mountain itself, and all the horrors of the
forest, seemed to have combined against me to prevent my escape, I was
seized with a sort of hate and detestation of the place. And, ever
since, my sleep has been disturbed--and will be for years to come, I
feel convinced--by nightmare dreams of the sights and sounds that haunt
my memory!"
"I feel that I have a grudge against it, too," the doctor avowed.
"Consider all the wonderful things you have told us that are to be
found inside! Then, just when I got so near, to be shut out in that
way! That 'Plant of Life,' too! I'd have given a good deal to have some
specimens of that, and some seeds. _I_ would have got them to grow,
somehow, if the thing could be done!"
"I'm precious glad, then, that you didn't," the irreverent Harry put
in. "I'm hoping to be a physician--one day--remember! And what chance
would there be for me and the rest of the profession, if you taught
people how to live for hundreds of years without so much as an illness?"
This very unexpected view of the matter from the vivacious 'budding
doctor' had the effect of turning the thoughts of the others from the
somewhat gloomy channel into which they seemed to have drifted.
After dinner, the belt, and the purses, and their glittering contents,
were brought in and spread out to view.
"Whatever else may be said," Mr. Kingsford declared, with emotion,
"there is not one here who will not have cause to remember the stranger
Monella, and Leonard, and their friends, with grateful feelings. And
you, Jack, above all; for, if I am any judge of the value of your share
of these things, you are a millionaire. And that brings back to my
mind the thought that is now constantly perplexing me, Who _was_ this
wondrous Monella after all? I really cannot bring myself to believe he
was--what was his name?--Mellenda, you know."
"No," assented the doctor. "As a man, I have the greatest liking and
respect for him; but, as a scientist, I am bound to disbelieve in that
part."
"Since I have no claim yet to be considered a scientist," said Harry,
"I suppose I am free to believe what I like. So I go the whole ticket.
I believe he was what I first pronounced him to be--a magician--and--I
swallow the Mellenda legend--whole! So there!" This very emphatically.
"Oh dear, _yes_!" Stella exclaimed, her blue eyes opening wide at the
doubting ones. "Why, of course, it _must_ be true. It is so much more
romantic and poetic, you know!"
Robert shook his head gravely.
"No!" he said, very decidedly. "I honour and respect the man, and
his memory, from all I have heard of him, but--I cannot accept that
wonderful part of it."
"Well, _I_ do," Maud exclaimed, looking round with a pretty air
of defiance, more particularly directed against Jack. "So that
makes opinion even, so far--three for, and three against. Now," to
Templemore, "of course, I know _you_ will side with the others."
To every one's surprise, however, Jack also shook his head.
"I don't know that," he answered, with a comically bewildered air.
"I've really had all my old notions so mixed up and blown about, that I
honestly admit I really cannot make up my mind. The whole thing is an
enigma that I cannot solve as yet--probably never shall. So you may put
me down as neutral--undecided--whatever you like to call it."
Maud clapped her hands; and upon that the puma gave a loud roar,
evidently signifying _her_ assent and approbation.
"Three for, three against, and one neutral," Maud cried "That's better
than I hoped for!"
The doctor laughed, and his good-natured eyes twinkled.
"You've all but beaten us," he said good-humouredly. "But, going away
from that part of the subject, I feel truly sorry to think that he
should have died so soon after he had accomplished the work he had had
so much at heart."
"There again I am inclined to differ," Templemore answered slowly. "I
honestly believe that nothing could have happened to please him more.
All his later talk clearly showed that. He said he was utterly weary
of life, and anxious to be 'released,' as he called it; yet his love
for his people was so great, he let no sign of this appear till he felt
sure all had been finally achieved. It was the fear that that work
might be upset after he had gone--and that alone--that made him so
anxious to shut out all future communication with the world outside;
of that I feel convinced. It was that that influenced him too, I have
no doubt, in making me promise to keep my adventures there a secret
from the world in general. But, just at the last, almost when I was
coming away, a doubt seemed to come into his mind, and he said to me,
'I release you from that promise, if circumstances should arise in
which you conscientiously believe it would be conducive to the good of
my country to tell the story of your sojourn here.' What he meant I
cannot conceive; I only tell you what he said. Possibly time may show.
He seemed to have the 'gift of prophecy' to some extent in those days;
certainly, everything went to show that he foresaw, or expected, his
own approaching death."
* * * * *
This was all some years ago.
Maud Kingsford and Templemore were married shortly after; and Stella
and Harry Lorien are now married too. And, when the two sisters appear
in society, they excite admiration, not only by their beauty, but also
by their matchless jewels--that once glittered on the bosom of Ulama,
Princess of Manoa, and that had adorned, probably, the persons of
generations of descendants of former mighty kings of that once mighty
empire.
But of this nothing is known to the general public. Templemore and his
friends have kept the promise he gave, and preserved the secret of
Roraima. It was only a short time ago that circumstances arose that
seemed to him to justify a departure from the course he had hitherto
observed. This was when the dispute which has been dormant for just
upon a hundred years respecting the boundaries of British Guiana
suddenly reached an acute stage.
"Truly," he said to his wife, then, "I think this is the contingency
our friend Monella must have had in his mind when he intimated that
in certain circumstances I was to be free to depart from the silence
he had enjoined. It seems to me more than ever the case that he must
have had 'the gift of prophecy' at that time. I cannot doubt that,
if he were alive now, and saw that the future international position
of Roraima was hanging in the balance, he would wish it to become
permanently British territory, rather than Venezuelan. And, if he could
know of the present state of indifference--or want of information--that
seems to prevail in England, I feel satisfied he would wish me to do
what I could to awaken the English nation to the true facts of the
question that is at stake."
And that is how it has come about that, after some years of silence,
this strange story of Roraima and the ancient city of El Dorado is now
given to the world.
THE END.
Transcriber's note
Words in italics have been surrounded with _underscores_, and small
capitals changed to all capitals.
Errors in punctuation have been corrected without note. The footnotes
have been placed directly after the paragraph they belong to. Missing
punctuation of the poem in footnote 6 was found on the internet. Some
words were hard to read but could be guessed from the context. Entirely
missing words were filled in and mentioned in the list underneath. Also
the following changes were made, on page
vii "nöt" changed to "not" (the author did not actually visit)
xiii pagenumber "xii" changed to "xiii"
27 "that" changed to "than" (far more sparsely populated than)
29 "Thoughout" changed to "Throughout" (Throughout the country)
31 "scarely" changed to "scarcely" (I can scarcely believe)
51 "Morover" changed to "Moreover" (Moreover, the Indians)
83 "Gorgetown" changed to "Georgetown" (do not alarm our friends in
Georgetown)
95 "o" changed to "of" (some kind of)
126 missing word guessed "to" (repay you to some measure)
202 "mysel" changed to "myself" (For myself I do not wonder)
381 "entertaintment" changed to "entertainment" (for my especial
entertainment).
Otherwise the original has been preserved, including inconsistent
spelling and hyphenation.
End of Project Gutenberg's The Devil-Tree of El Dorado, by Frank Aubrey