To describe the anguish which poor Harry suffered when he saw his
beloved sister on the verge of freedom, snatched therefrom by the big
powerful Trauco, is not easy; nor can the consternation of Sir Frances,
Lady Vane, and their son be adequately gauged. For a few seconds they
stood staring in front of them, despair written on their features and
horror in their eyes. Not so Shag. Barking furiously, he sprung forward,
tearing the leash that held him from Harry’s grasp, and then crest on
end, and with every fibre in his body strained to its utmost, he set off
in pursuit of the Trauco that bore from him his beloved mistress. His
decided action awoke the others from their stupor. Unslinging their
rifles, they followed as quickly as they could in the wake of the baying
Labrador, whose deep notes could be heard mounting higher and higher in
the direction of the realms of snow.
The ascent proved of no ordinary difficulty. As they mounted the steep
forest slope, they came upon big, frowning and jagged rocks, whose
perpendicular faces and peaked crests proved almost inaccessible. How
Shag had managed to negotiate them was a perfect marvel to every one.
For some time the dog’s baying, though faint, sounding as if some
distance off, appeared to be stationary, a proof, as Sir Frances
surmised, that the Trauco had taken refuge with his captive in some
inaccessible spot beyond the reach of the Labrador. This idea filled
them with a new hope, and spurred on their drooping energies to renewed
exertion.
Guided by Shag’s savage barks and loud prolonged howls, the rescue
party, after a long, desperate, and arduous struggle, reached the spot
where the dog was standing. It was a deep crevassed rock, above which a
sheet of straight precipice ascended to a ledge above, and leading
inward from this ledge they perceived a cave. Was it possible that the
Trauco had taken refuge therein? By what human means had he managed to
scale the perpendicular face which led up to it? Surely Shag was at
fault?
But Shag was not at fault, and he plainly said so. If a pair of faithful
brown eyes could speak, then his distinctly did so, and they declared
that the Trauco and Topsie were above.
If they had doubted, all doubt was quickly dispelled when a low whistle
sounded from the cave. It was a signal well known to Harry, a mode of
communication which he and Topsie had practised from their earliest
days, when as little children they had played hide-and-seek together. It
was a whistle which Shag knew full well likewise, for on hearing it he
pricked his ears, wagged his tail, and barked louder than ever.
“Topsie, darling, we will save you; keep up heart,” called out Harry
encouragingly; and as he spoke his eyes devoured the steep face above
him. Then he perceived the means by which the Trauco had ascended, as a
coil of green lichens arrested his gaze. They were clinging to a long
thick stem similar to what is seen on ivy trees, but more extended in
dimensions.
“See, Uncle Francis! Look, Aunt Ruby!” he cried excitedly; “that is how
the brute reached yon ledge, but he has drawn it up after him. Oh! what
shall we do?”
Here the quiet voice of Aniwee interposed. “Will the white Caciques be
guided by Aniwee?” she inquired. “There is but one way to destroy the
Trauco. Still the barking of the dog, and bid him crouch down, and then
let each of us, with rifle ready, secrete ourselves behind these rocks,
and keep a steady eye upon the cave. When all is silent the Trauco will
come and look out, and the moment he shows himself we must fire at the
same time. If we kill him, or wound him mortally, the white Cacique will
be saved. But first call out and tell her how we purpose acting.”
At once the idea was joyfully adopted, and Harry duly shouted directions
to his sister, who replied with the same low whistle, to show that she
understood. Then every one took up as convenient a position as possible
in sight of the cave, and waited with rifle cocked, ready to shoot, the
moment the Trauco showed himself, Shag being made to down charge flat at
Harry’s feet.
They had a long time to wait. More than two hours sped by, and no sign
was visible of the Trauco. A sharp, warning whistle, however, suddenly
brought them to attention, and as they strained their eyes, glazed by
long and minute watching, the form of the hairy man showed itself on the
ledge above. He was sniffing the air like a dog, and peering curiously
below.
In a moment the ping of five rifles rang forth. Far and wide the reports
echoed and re-echoed. They started an avalanche high above, which was
trembling in the balance, and brought it roaring and dashing down the
mountain’s sides. At the same time the Trauco uttered a hoarse cry, the
first human sound which Topsie had heard him utter. Throwing up his
arms, he fell forward over the steep side, and came crashing into the
crevassed rock below.
In a moment Topsie sprung to her feet, and rushing to the cave’s mouth,
cast down the supple stem which her captor had drawn up on to the ledge.
Hand over hand she descended, and the next moment stood beside her
brother, uncle, aunt, cousin, and Aniwee, with Shag—brave dog!—fawning
upon her, and uttering loud, joyous barks of delight.
Harry burst into tears, and threw his arms around his sister. The
pent-up heart of the poor lad gave vent to the full measure of the
suffering it had endured, and sought relief in tears. It is rare that we
shed them in joy, but when we do so they bring comfort, and rest, and
relief to the over-taxed brain.
In the excitement of the moment the Trauco was forgotten, when a groan
of anguish made Topsie start violently, and look in the direction whence
it came. She at once perceived her late captor doubled up and writhing
in agony not ten paces away.
“Poor thing!” she exclaimed pitifully. The sufferings of this strange
wild creature stirred her curiously. Unlike Sir Francis, Lady Vane,
Harry, and Freddy, she had come to regard him in the light of a human
being, and far removed from the ape; and after all, though he had
captured her, and had thereby caused her intense suffering, his manner
and behaviour to her had always been thoughtful and gentle.
“Stop, Aniwee! Do not shoot him,” she cried hastily, as she saw the
Indian girl raise her rifle as if to fire at the wounded creature.
“Uncle Francis, Harry, that is no ape. It is assuredly a human being. I
fear, however, he is mortally wounded.”
As she spoke she went over to the Trauco, and laid her hand on his
shoulder. No sooner did the poor creature feel her touch, than he rolled
over on to his back, and gazed at her with a piteous expression in his
large gazelle-like eyes. There were two bullet wounds in his chest, and
from these blood was oosing. His breathing came thick and fast, and
there could be little doubt that life was rapidly ebbing to a close.
“Poor Trauco, poor, poor Trauco!” exclaimed the girl, as she drew out
her handkerchief and laid it against the wounds. It was strange how
cruelly the sight affected her.
At the sound of her voice, tears filled the large languishing eyes of
the dying Trauco, but he smiled gently, and caught hold of her hands,
which he pressed in his. Then he began to purr and coo softly, never
taking his gaze from off her face. He took no notice of Lady Vane or the
others. His whole attention appeared to be absorbed in the pretty
fair-haired girl who seemed to sympathise in his sufferings, and to
share his woe.
“Oh, Uncle Francis! cannot we save him? Are his wounds mortal?” inquired
the girl, looking round piteously at the baronet, who advanced as she
spoke and bent over the wounded creature. But as he did so a fierce look
came into the Trauco’s eyes, he relaxed his hold of Topsie’s hands, and
tried to raise himself up on his elbows. He evidently meant mischief,
and she, who knew his great strength, at once called out to her uncle to
stand back. Warned by Topsie’s earnest voice Sir Francis retired,
whereupon the Trauco relaxed his efforts and lay back again. Once more
his hands seized those of Topsie, and held them gently, while the great,
dark eyes were riveted again to her face. Suddenly a shiver ran through
his huge frame, and she felt his grasp tighten, while a piteous,
pleading look came into his eyes. At the same time he drew her hands
slowly towards his lips and gently kissed them, the purring and cooing
being renewed. Only for a minute though; it was his last exertion. A
heavy film clouded the beautiful eyes, one long, low sigh escaped him,
and then the head of this strange being fell backwards as Death claimed
him for his own.
“It is all over,” whispered Topsie, as she rose from his side; “let us
get away quickly. If the other Traucos surround us, we shall fare badly.
Aniwee, I have strange news for you. I will tell you when we reach the
valley; but if you will all take my advice, let us keep silence till
then.”
They made their way down the steep hillside, Topsie leading. She was
wondering whether Cuastral and Piñone had escaped, and was revolving in
her mind how she should break to Aniwee the startling tidings that they
lived. An unforeseen incident assisted her.
They had reached the valley, and were proceeding to cross it, when
something lying on the ground attracted their attention. On going up to
it they perceived that it was an old poncho, the threads of which had
been wrought in gold, but were now considerably faded. Something on it,
however, caught Aniwee’s eye. She stooped to pick it up, and at the same
time uttered a low cry. Then she stared fixedly at the poncho in her
hands, on the breast of which was embroidered a single name, the name of
Piñone.
“It is Piñone’s poncho,” she gasped. “It is the one which he wore when
he started on the raid against the Cristianos, and from which he never
returned; but how comes it here in the land of the Trauco?”
“That is just what I have to tell you, Aniwee,” now put in Topsie; “the
great strange news I promised you is this. Both Cuastral and Piñone
live. For many a weary day they have been the Traucos’ prisoners. Last
night we all three escaped and reached yon forest, but the Traucos
pursued, and I was retaken. Since then I have seen nothing of either
Cuastral or Piñone, and I believe and hope that they have eluded their
pursuers. If so, we may come upon them in the forest yet. You stare, but
it is true. Inacayal told you they were dead, but Inacayal is a traitor.
It was he who betrayed Cuastral and Piñone. To him they owe their long
captivity.”
“And I have left my child in his care,” moaned the young Queen, wringing
her hands. “He will do evil to the Guardia Chica. Ah! why did I not
listen to Graviel, who never loved him?”
“Come, Aniwee, be brave; remember you are a Warrior Queen. Inacayal will
not dare to harm the child amidst so many warriors,” said Topsie
encouragingly, for the young Queen was visibly overcome.
“And we must give all our energies now to the assistance of Cuastral and
Piñone, Aniwee,” put in Sir Francis Vane. “What the white Cacique has
related is truly wonderful, and sounds like a dream.”
They had begun to cross the valley once more, and were making for the
base of the forest fronting them, when Freddy suddenly pointed upwards,
exclaiming:
“Look, mother, look, father! What are those figures high up the mountain
side? Are they more Traucos, do you think?”
“No,” cried Topsie in a glad voice. “Look up, Aniwee! What I told you is
true indeed. See, it is no dream.”
The young Queen looked in the direction pointed. She, in common with the
rest, could see two figures on the skyline waving and making signals to
them. Then a bright look came into her eyes, and she laughed aloud for
very joy.
“It is Piñone,” she cried in an ecstasy of happiness. “The white Cacique
said truly, and it is no dream. Piñone, love of Aniwee’s heart, thou art
not dead; Aniwee will clasp thee again.”
She sprung forward, fleet of foot, and reached the forest belt, into
which she plunged. Then she commenced to work her way upwards through
the thick undergrowth, the others following in her wake. Thus she
struggled forward amidst numerous difficulties, but reward came at last.
As she neared the summit of the forest-clothed mountain a tall handsome
Indian rushed forward to meet her. In another moment Aniwee was locked
in Piñone’s arms.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]