A GLIMPSE OF THE FABLED CITY.
A week went by, and the _Golden Boar_ still lay in the bay of San
Joseph. Her captain and the Spanish commandant had exchanged many
civilities, and the latter was surprised that the fire-eating Drake had
committed no deed of violence. He suspected that some deep scheme lay
hidden behind all this appearance of friendliness and courtesy. His
suspicions were, in a measure, correct; he was wrong only in his idea
of the nature of the Englishman's plans. Double guards were set round
the fort each night, and the native chief was compelled to sleep within
its walls. Morning after morning the Spaniards awoke, surprised to
find that the hours of darkness had brought no sudden assault on the
fortress. The natives freely visited the ship with fruit, flowers, and
meats, and the English sailors spent hours ashore, wandering in the
near forests or fraternizing with the natives on the beach. The
Spaniards imagined their own midnight extermination was being planned,
and therefore was the chieftain compelled to sleep within reach of a
Spanish sword, and his subjects were given to understand that the first
sound of tumult in the darkness would end Ayatlan's life. The
commandant apparently forgot that the great admiral had sacked towns
three times the size of San Joseph with a less capable force than the
crew of the _Golden Boar_.
Truth to tell, Captain Drake had never once contemplated any attack on
San Joseph; he valued the place at less than a scratch on an
Englishman's skin. His stay in the harbour was dictated solely by a
desire to glean information concerning the Orinoco and the land of gold
that he sought. The delta of the great river lay, the nearest land, to
the south of the island; the natives professed to know much of the
river and the tribes dwelling on its banks, and they exchanged
mysterious nods and signs one with another when "El Dorado" was
mentioned.
Presents were liberally bestowed, and promises were scattered
broadcast. Dan Pengelly and the two Johnsons, often accompanied by
Master Jeffreys and Morgan, spent hours at the doors of native huts,
eagerly questioning the Indians, or listening to long, jumbled stories,
eked out in a jargon of Spanish and Indian. Almost invariably they
came away as wise as they went. The natives either knew nothing of
real significance or would not disclose their secrets.
The adventurers grew impatient. They were in no mood to spend day
after day idling off a dirty Spanish-Indian settlement. Their thoughts
aye fled southwards, and they wanted to spread sail and follow their
thoughts. Dan's papers had been read and re-read until many knew them
by heart. But they obviously contained little, save rumours and vague
indications of locality. What the eager adventurers wanted were
definite directions as to route and distances, and also a native guide
along the lower reaches of the river. At length both appeared to be
forthcoming.
Ayatlan came aboard early one morning and asked for the captain.
Ushered into the cabin, where a council was being held, he bowed
himself down to the floor, then squatted on a mat and began his story
without further prelude.
"My white brother, who has come from the great and good White Mother
that rules the rising sun, is growing angry with Ayatlan because he has
not told him that which his heart so desires to know."
"My Indian brother has received gifts and made promises; the promises
have not been kept. I do right to show anger," replied Drake sharply.
"The Spaniards would have flogged Ayatlan, and maybe have killed his
sons, for such bad faith and crooked dealing."
The chief bowed. "Spaniards are beasts and the children of beasts.
The Englishmen are sons of the Father of Heaven, and Ayatlan prays to
them as to his gods. Why has my brother grown soft-hearted to his
enemies and mine? The tongue of rumour tells how he has eaten up their
armies at a mouthful. Is my brother grown old and toothless?"
John Drake flushed. He had had more than one reminder that the
admiral, his brother, would have acted more energetically than he had
done. But the younger man was by nature more cautious and diplomatic.
He made answer: "My teeth are sound, Ayatlan, and the fire of manhood
is still in my heart. Do not foes sometimes make peace for a while?"
"True; but when one makes peace with them that hate him, he is guilty
of folly, for the enemy gathers strength whilst at rest, and waits to
strike at an advantage."
"What has all this to do with the thing I seek?"
"Ayatlan has been working for his white brother since the hour when his
ship came into the bay. He has thought night and day how he might help
him to the desires of his heart."
"Well?"
"Last night a youth from another tribe came into the village with one
of my messengers. He knows the great river, and hath journeyed many
days on its bosom. He will guide the children of the great White Queen
to the city of the 'Gilded One.'"
The quiet announcement thrilled the whole cabin. Here was the end of
uncertainty. Drake grasped the chieftain by the hand. "What bargain
doth Ayatlan wish to make?" he asked.
"I make no bargain," was the proud rejoinder. "Have I not given my
white brothers joy? They will not forget. The guide waits in my boat."
"Let us speak with him."
The chief spoke to one of his attendants, and the guide was brought in.
The adventurers looked at him with great curiosity; he was an object of
the intensest interest to them. The youth's appearance was not
prepossessing. To begin with, he was very dirty; the rags of a Spanish
doublet hung about his body; legs and feet were bare, but a battered
helmet, several sizes too large, covered his head and came down about
his ears; a pair of cunning eyes peeped from under the bent rim of the
headpiece, and quickly took in the details of the gathering. The
hearts of the adventurers sunk at the first sight of the ludicrous and
somewhat sinister personage. So this was the long-sought guide to whom
they were to submit their lives and fortunes! Not one present liked
the prospect.
There was a moment's silence. "Tell the zany to uncover," exclaimed
the captain. Then he turned to Ayatlan. "Will my brother tell the
young man what we want with him, and question him as to his fitness for
the duties he offers to fulfil?"
"He will speak for himself. He has been a servant of the Spaniards,
and knows their tongue better than I do."
Master Jeffreys took the young Indian in hand, and questioned him
pretty closely. He answered glibly enough, with a "Yes" to almost
every question. He had been many voyages up the Orinoco.
"How many?"
He held up the fingers of one hand. One voyage had lasted from the
first night of the young moon until it was full.
What did he know of the city of gold?
Apparently he knew everything. The city lay on the headwaters of the
river under the great mountains. A mighty lake lay at the foot of the
city. The sands of the lake were composed of the yellow gold that the
signers desired.
Had he met any one who had visited the city?
Yes; an Indian trader. He had once come into the camp of his Spanish
masters when they were many days' journey up the great river. His
masters had used him as interpreter. The houses of the city were of
dazzling white stone, and the roofs of plates of gold. The people
bathed in the lake on certain festival days, and afterwards sprinkled
themselves so thickly with the precious yellow dust that they looked
like golden images. Yes; they had temples, and the gods were of gold,
and sacrifices were offered on golden altars. Sparkling stones, such
as the signers loved, were found in the waters of the lake.
How far off was the city?
Oh! many moons' journey. No; the inhabitants were not warlike. They
would welcome the white strangers from the land of the rising sun, and
give them yellow dust and sparkling stones as much as their hearts
desired. Yes; the dangers of the way were great, for many forests and
swamps must be passed; roaring waterfalls blocked the passage of the
river. The flow of the waters was fierce, the tides strong, and there
was a thousand channels to bewilder the voyager. But he knew the way
through the maze of waterways.
Could he guide the Englishmen?
He could. He hated the Spaniards, and would never act as guide to
those who oppressed his own nation. But the Englishmen were brothers
to the Indian.
What reward did he desire?
Clothes like those worn by his white brothers, and a sword to slay his
enemies.
Needless to say, a bargain was struck forthwith. The guide clapped on
his shapeless headpiece and strutted off, a happy man. He had told not
a few lies; indeed, he had agreed with everything the adventurers
seemed to desire, and spun them the yarns he had heard from the
Spaniards, which tales he knew would gratify his new audience. And
well-nigh a score of brave but credulous men shook hands with one
another most gleefully, rubbed those same hands in joyous anticipation,
and confidently looked forward to fabulous wealth and the glories of
the city of marble and gold, the matchless capital of "El Dorado."