THE WAY OUT
The bandits sat up, stared with mouths gaping at the band of Indians
filing silently past them. Neither Mills nor Lang appeared to realize
that the captives had managed to free themselves of the ropes, and the
Flying Buddies, the small guns resting ready in their palms, were on the
alert, prepared to turn the tables on the men if necessary.
In the meantime the entire passage was illuminated with a weird yellow
light and the natives' moving bodies cast grotesque shadows before,
behind and all about them. Huge dark figures out of all proportion,
wavered through the narrow cavern as they, completely ignoring the
presence of the white men, passed along soundlessly. It was a strange
spectacle the lads witnessed, and one they could not explain. There were
about forty or fifty men, women and young girls, all carrying precious
burdens in ancient receptacles, and occasionally a glittering object
fell from the over-flowing containers. One of these dropped between
Lang's knees and his eyes glowed greedily as they rested on it, but he
sat with eyes and mouth open and did not move.
For ten or fifteen minutes the strange procession passed slowly along
and finally the last man, a tall young Indian armed with a long,
black-tipped spear, brought up the rear. He paused for an instant beside
Mills, and stared down at the man who crouched in terror, then he
proceeded to join his companions. He was out of sight before Lang leaped
to his feet. In his hand was the jewel which had fallen, and his face
was contorted with viciousness.
"Mills, it's native--"
"Think I'm blind," Mills muttered, but he got up more slowly; it was not
easy to rid himself of the effect of those dark piercing eyes.
"They are carrying away tons of stuff; gold and stones. We hit the place
all right. Come on, we'll see where they hide it and help ourselves--"
Lang was nearly consumed with excitement.
"Help ourselves--" Mills repeated dully.
"Sure, look!" He held out the shining trinket. "Those natives always do
that, I've read about it. Years ago--they hid carloads of stuff and
nobody could find it, but lately some caches have been located and these
fellows are hiding their treasures in a new place. We'll see where it
is--"
"Say, Bo, listen, we aint awake, see! This is a dream I'm havin', all by
myself, you aint in it at all, but you seem to be." Mills brushed his
hand over his forehead.
"Oh, you're crazy," Lang insisted.
"Just asleep. We been thinkin' so much about those hiding places that
I'm dreaming all this, but listen, if it was real those fellows would
never have trailed right over us like that--never--why, I could see
right through them--it's a dream I tell you--"
"Come along, I'll show you if it's a dream," Lang shouted. "They'll get
away if we don't hustle." He dashed off after the last Indian who had
disappeared from sight.
Mills followed reluctantly at a slower pace, while the Flying Buddies
cautiously brought up the rear. As he went on they could hear him
muttering to himself that he was dreaming, that it wasn't real, and Lang
was a nut.
"It does seem queer," Bob remarked thoughtfully.
"Shall I give you a pinch so you'll be sure you are awake?" Jim asked
soberly.
"Yes, go ahead," Caldwell invited. His step-brother started to comply
but he no sooner got a bit of the fleshy part of his arm between his
fingers than Bob drew away. "I'm convinced. Come on, hurry up, it isn't
as light as it was!"
The pellets the boys had swallowed some hours earlier had refreshed them
amazingly so they forgot that they had had little food, rest or water,
as they ran as hard as they could go along the passage, which presented
no difficulties to progress. They had raced about five minutes before
they overtook Lang and Mills, and some distance ahead they could see the
backs of the Indians marching forward with dignified tread. Nearly a
quarter of an hour the white men followed the dark ones through the
opening in the dense forest until at last Lang, who was leading, paused
and raised his hand. Mills drew close to his partner, but the Flying
Buddies remained at a respectful distance. They were on higher ground
and could see quite easily what was happening.
The place beyond where the Buddies were standing was like a deep gully
whose sides rose steeply, like a wall. Thick vines grew about twenty
feet from the bottom and these were woven across the top in an
impenetrable mass through which neither rain nor sunshine could pass.
The boxes and baskets were placed on the ground in a circle and the men
stood behind them, each armed with long and short spears. It looked as
if the women were moving about preparing a meal, but suddenly there came
a fierce braying of dogs, the thunder of galloping hoofs, hundreds of
them, and the deafening clatter of steel. A moment later a huge black
brute with powerful hungry jaws leaped in from behind the rocks, and
almost instantly a horse and rider raced furiously in after him.
"Great Guns, Bob, he's in armor," Jim whispered.
"Bronc and all," Caldwell added in amazement. It reminded the boys of
some historical moving picture in which armored knights and horses
suddenly leaped to life and action. For a breathless instant they stood
too astonished to speak.
After their leader, a great pack of the dogs rushed along with soldiers
protected from head to foot by their coats of mail and helmets. Queer
weapons were fired, blunderbusses and heavy cross-bows, long swords
flashed and after ten minutes of the wildest confusion the natives were
dead, all except a few women and children who were slung up behind the
soldiers, while others gathered the treasure in their arms and galloped
away with the rich booty, but as they scrambled up the rocks, a number
of them were dislodged and came tumbling down. The stones seemed to mark
the wall of some natural dam, for instantly there was a terrific boom,
boom, and tons of water roared over, sweeping the burdened horses
helplessly before it. Snarling and fighting the dogs struggled to swim
to safety, but most of them were battered by heavy armor or kicking
hoofs, so that they sunk with their laden masters in the swirling water.
"Get back," Lang shrieked in terror, but although the water had reached
their side, the main part of it found a lower outlet, and it flowed off
among the boulders. However it was deep enough so that there was no
evidence of what it concealed, and the four who had witnessed the
horrible tragedy stared mutely at one another.
"I tell you I'm dreaming," Mills repeated.
"Let's get out of here," cried Lang, glancing about him fearfully.
"How are we going to do it?"
"Follow the stream around to the other side," Jim suggested.
"Say, what in--"
"You needn't say it," Jim snapped, or rather barked. "Face about and get
going. Make it lively--"
"You brats--"
"Save those little pleasantries for later, old man," Jim ordered. "It's
your turn to lead this party--"
"I'll be killed--"
"Surely," Bob cut in. "You'll get what you promised us if you don't do
as you are told. The first thing is to relieve yourself of your weapons,
all of them. Turn your pockets inside out, both of you."
"Well--"
"Don't wait." Bob pressed forward, the gun pointing straight at Mills'
belt and in terror the fellow threw up his hands. "I told you to turn
your pockets inside out, and take off your gun belt. Do it quick or I'll
shoot it off. My folks taught me to use a gun when they showed me how to
handle a spoon, and right now I've got a lot against you; my fingers are
itching to press the spring, besides it would be no end easier for Buddy
and me to get out of this place alone. We're only taking you along
because we like your company--"
"We'd better tie them up and leave them here," Jim suggested, although
he had no such intention.
"Don't do that--don't do that--" Lang's teeth chattered with fright as
he pleaded, and he hastily turned his pockets wrong side out, also
removed his cartridge belt and a holster which he had strapped under his
arm. Jim kicked the stuff into the water, while Bob attended to Mills.
"Now, take off your shirts then we'll be sure you haven't got anything
hidden or try anything queer. I'm going to tie you, but not so that you
are as helpless as we were." While Jim stood guard, he secured the pair
with the one lariat, then he took the end of the rope. "Just a little
funny business and this will pull up tight, so watch yourself--now
goose-step."
The two men faced about and started, Caldwell holding one end of their
rope. He had the gun in his other hand, while Jim walked beside him, his
weapon pointed at the bare backs. It was difficult making their way
along the edge of the stream, but they finally managed it, then saw that
the route lead forward in a comparatively smooth trail. Two hours they
proceeded, winding in and out, twisting and turning as if the designers
of the passage had sought to build a labyrinth for some ancient lover's
lane. Then the way grew suddenly quite rugged and a bit later the boys
and their captured captors discovered that they were tramping over a
high stone bridge which seemed to be a natural formation of the rocks.
All of the time the vines and trees formed the solid arch above their
heads, but occasionally sections were considerably lighter than others.
"Say, where do you think you are going to take us?" Mills growled.
"Out," Bob answered shortly.
"Yeh, when we get out, then what?"
"To the nearest jail, where you belong," Jim told him.
"Well, I'm telling you now, I'm not going to no jail," Mills cried.
"Aw shut up," Lang ordered.
"Shut up yourself," Mills retorted. "I aint done nothing to go to jail
for--"
"No, well you've done as much as I have--"
"You're a liar." Mills fist shot out and he struck his companion a
resounding crack on the side of the face.
Lang's foot went up hard, caught the fellow in the stomach with such
force that Mills doubled up like a jackknife, screamed with pain, and
his feet slipped so that he slid across the rock.
"Catch him, Lang," Jim shouted quickly.
"He'll take you with him," warned Bob.
At that the gang leader clutched the rope which held the two but Mills
was already dangling over the edge. Desperately Lang threw all his
weight on the opposite side. Jim and Bob sprang to help him, but as they
pulled the section of the rope which Caldwell had knotted after he had
chewed the strands, parted, and the smaller man went tumbling over
backward into the rushing stream. The boys dared not stop to help him,
but put all their strength into dragging Mills to safety. It was minutes
before the big man was on the bridge again, and by that time there was
no sign of the leader of the gang, although the boys made every effort
to locate him. They were panting from the exertion and pale with horror
at what had happened.
"Can you walk now?" Jim asked grimly.
"Yes," Mills answered.
"We'll be on our way." Silently they proceeded and just beyond the next
turn they found themselves in the ruins of an ancient court with
moss-grown stone seats which faced the east.
"Looks a bit like one of the temple ruins near Cuzco," Caldwell remarked
just to make conversation.
"Yes," replied Austin, then added with a sigh of relief, "Jinks, Buddy,
the sun is shining through! Isn't it great!"
"Surely is," Bob agreed. They looked about and although some of the
larger branches of the tall trees interlaced over their heads, the
foliage was not so matted and they were sure that either no attempt had
been made by the natives to conceal the spot, or any ancient hiding
growths had been broken away during the passing years. Mills glanced
nervously around him and when he saw that they were really in the
sunlight, he began to babble incoherently.
"Think we'd better let him go?" Jim suggested. There was pity in his
tone and he spoke softly for he thought that this last member of the
gang that had taken them prisoners was losing what little reason he ever
possessed.
"I figure we're out of the passage, but we don't know where we are yet.
If we turn him loose he may starve to death before he reaches a
settlement or any one runs across him; then, if we let him keep with us
until we get out it will be safer to keep him in hand. He can be a nasty
bird and after a while some of the effects of what we were through may
wear off, then he'll revert to his charming self again and probably try
to break our necks," Bob answered, and after a moment's consideration,
Jim nodded that it was the wiser course.
"Go along," he motioned to Mills, whose knees wobbled under him and his
fingers fumbled inanely about his mouth.
"He's nutty, all right," said Bob.
They advanced toward the towering ruin, and crossed what had once been a
magnificent Square with a beautiful fountain playing in the centre. The
clear water still trickled up between the stones, some of which were
polished until they glistened like fiery opals. The other side of the
square was the first tier of a wide terrace, its massive walls seamed in
even lines as its ancient builders had laid the rocks with infinite
care, one above the other, and side by side. There were a few small
fruit trees whose branches were gnarled and twisted; several giant
olives which might have been imported from Spain hundreds of years ago;
tall cactus with thorns sharp as spear points and strong as spikes stuck
up like sentinels, while patches of smaller varieties spread over large
sections of the sandy soil.
The Buddies and their half-witted companion made their way slowly around
where they could walk safely and presently they discovered a groove.
They were not sure if it had once been the bed of a small stream or a
path worn through the years by the natives whose abodes had been
somewhere in the vicinity, but they followed it because it was easier
walking and soon they reached an irregular, winding stairway with a
high, stone balustrade on both sides.
"Let's go up as far as we can," Jim proposed.
"That's a good idea. From the top we may be able to get our bearings,"
Bob assented. He was usually full of fun despite adventures or danger,
but the long hours spent in the passage, the tragic events which had
piled themselves one after the other, had left him grave. There wasn't a
sign of a grin on his lips, and his usually laughing eyes were mighty
thoughtful.
"Hope we can find a way to the plane soon," said Jim as they proceeded
upward.
"Me too," Bob replied, then he glanced about. "I say, Buddy, the sun is
where it was when we started in that passage."
"I was thinking of that," Jim told him. They stopped and looked at each
other.
"Suppose we were there more than one round of the clock?"
"I don't believe so. It's a safe bet we were there twenty-four hours, or
nearly. I was depending on the plane clock, so didn't wear a watch."
"Red cribbed mine when he was searching me," Bob said quietly.
"Eh, why didn't you tell him it was a relation of the green emerald
rings?" Jim chuckled. "Mills was certainly afraid of them."
"I thought of that, but I should worry. Gosh, Red surely--"
"Here we are on a second terrace," Jim interrupted for he wanted Bob to
forget, as fast as he could, that experience at the rotten log where Red
had met his fate.
"Must have been a wonderful structure this," Bob answered. He understood
why Jim had cut in, and was as anxious as the older boy to get the
troubles of the last twenty-four hours out of his mind.
"Seems to me I hear something, a sort of tapping," said Jim. They stood
still and listened, every nerve tense, but gradually they relaxed for
the place was as silent as the bottom of the deepest unopened tomb in
the universe.
"Hear it now?"
"Guess it was my imagination. Come on." They started again, crossed the
second terrace, and several times they paused to scan the sky. In fact,
they were far more interested in what might come out of the path of the
blazing sun than what they would discover on terra-firma, for they both
felt confident that their absence had not passed unobserved by their
friends at the barracks.
"Figuring that we tramped twelve or fifteen hours all together, how many
miles do you believe we covered?" Jim asked when they stopped to rest on
the third terrace.
"Sometimes we went pretty slowly," Bob answered.
"I know. I was trying to dope it out as we went along. It didn't seem to
me as if the passage made many turns, but that's hard to tell because it
went up and down, across rivers and probably under sections of the
mountains."
"Sure, but it seems to me we can't be as much as a hundred miles from
the top of that little hill, where we started. To be sure, it wasn't
very high, but for natives to have a covered way--gosh--I don't know. We
did hear that the ancient natives made hidden ways for hundreds of
miles; they needed to in order to get away, but it doesn't seem possible
that we can have gone a hundred miles--"
"Anyway, we can't be a hundred air miles from where we started. What I'm
trying to figure is the chances of Bradshaw and some of the rest
locating us soon."
"Yes, they'll be hunting sure as fate but I'm afraid even if they flew
over that place where the planes were left, they would not notice them.
Those lads did a good job of covering up."
"That's right--"
"Jim, shhh--there's somebody, a white man, sneaking behind those rocks
just ahead of us," Bob whispered softly.