WE INTERVIEW THE RED-BEARD
The mountain, Chaka stated, was four days’ journey from the City of
Itza. This was because the country surrounding the barren peak was
rugged and very difficult to traverse. Yet our path through the air was
so smooth and our speed so great that it was early in the afternoon when
we approached so near to Aota that caution induced us to descend and
call a halt.
“Here lies the goal of all our struggles,” said Paul. “From this moment
we must exercise great care in all we do, for we cannot afford to risk
failure by an error of judgment.”
After counseling with Chaka, Allerton decided to land on the west side
of the mountain, about half way to the summit. By a careful manipulation
of our wings and gradually letting the gas from our jackets we managed
to accomplish this in safety, and although we lit upon the rocks about
half a mile from the spot we had first selected we were well satisfied
with the result of our exciting trip.
No wonder the Itzaex never ventured near Mount Aota. Such a jumble of
huge jagged rocks, treacherous precipices, canyons, rifts and caverns I
have never seen before nor since. As we settled to the ground we saw no
place level or large enough to hold us all, except a deep ravine; so we
fluttered down into this and planted our feet upon a pebbly bottom
through which a torrent rushed during the rainy season, but which was
now dry as a bone.
“It isn’t a bad hiding place, from which to reconnoiter,” remarked Paul,
when we had all seated ourselves to rest and take breath, for flying is
rather strenuous when long continued. “What do you think, Chaka; shall
we make our camp here?”
“Let us find water,” suggested the atkayma.
So we set off in pairs and in different ways to discover water, leaving
Pedro to guard the chests. Archie and I walked up the canyon together,
finding many fissures leading from it and many dark caverns appearing in
the rocks; but no where was there evidence of water. After proceeding a
half mile or so we returned to find all the party again congregated. Nux
and Bryonia alone had been successful, having found a way to climb up
the lower side of the ravine, from whence they descended the mountain a
short distance and reached a spring of clear, cold water that bubbled
out of a rift in the rock. Quite near was the mouth of a large cave,
which they did not wait to explore.
As this spot seemed the most suitable location for a camp we took the
chests and made our way laboriously out of the ravine and down the
mountain a few hundred feet to the spring, where we all drank of the
water eagerly. There was but a narrow ledge to give us foothold here, so
we approached the cave, the mouth of which appeared just where the ledge
ended.
A few paces from the entrance the cavern was black as ink; so Paul got
out his lamp—a modern acetylene search-light affair—and lighted it.
“Get your weapons ready,” he said, “for we don’t know who lives in this
mansion, or whether the owner is willing to take boarders. Don’t use
firearms; we’re too near the Tcha city for that. If you have to defend
yourselves shoot the electrites.”
The search-light soon cast its gleam to the further wall, and we decided
the cave was vacant. A slight rustling sound now reached our ears,
growing gradually louder in volume, and looking downward I saw dozens of
snakes wriggling toward us, hissing venomously as they came. They were
tiny things, not much bigger around than a lead pencil and some seven or
eight inches long.
“Reetee!” shouted Chaka, springing backward. “Run, friends—run for your
lives!”
“But no, my brother,” answered Paul, restraining him. “We are well
protected.”
Chaka shuddered, but stood his ground, watching the serpents fearfully.
They struck at our feet and legs continually, not coiling but throwing
themselves forward by rising upon their tails.
Although the sheathing of our shoes and gaiters was impervious to their
fangs, the attack was too horrible not to resent. With one accord we
began trampling them under heel, destroying the creatures by scores. But
the more we killed the more appeared, creeping upon us from numberless
tiny cracks in the walls. They came straight to the attack, fighting mad
at being disturbed, and we soon began to tire of the hopeless battle.
“Let’s cut it!” said Archie, and there was no dissenting voice.
Gradually we withdrew toward the mouth of the cave, the snakes following
persistently, until when we stood upon the ledge it looked as though we
must abandon the position and seek another camp.
“What _are_ the things, anyhow?” asked Ned.
“Reetee,” said Chaka; “the most deadly serpents known.”
Nux and Bryonia knew snakes pretty well, having had large experience
with them in the South Seas. Bry begged Allerton to give him the key to
the supply chest, and going to it he searched for and brought out a
package of dry mustard. Then he took the lamp and reëntering the cavern
with it, the black kicked the bodies of the dead and dying serpents
together in a heap and scattered over it fully half the mustard the
package contained. Next moment he came running back to us, and was none
too soon, for with a rush the vermin attacking us wriggled back into the
cave, where they made straight for the mustard heap, burying their fangs
in the carcasses of their damaged brethren.
The result was astonishing. Almost instantly the deadly reetee succumbed
to “mustard poison,” as our blacks gravely called it, and in five
minutes that lot of harmless mustard—harmless to us, that is—had
accomplished more than our boot-heels could do in a week. The odor of
the mustard drew every serpent from its hiding place, and contact with
the yellow powder was its death warrant. We didn’t care for the cave,
with its horrid carpet of dead reetee, but at least we were now free
from the vipers’ attacks.
“The fact is,” said Paul, “we can’t stay here, or anywhere else on the
mountain, for long. Even if our approach has not been observed, which we
have little reason to hope, the spies of the Tcha, which are certainly
on the lookout, will soon locate us. So it is necessary we get into the
hidden city as soon as possible.”
“On which side of the mountain is the entrance?” I asked Chaka.
“I do not think there is any entrance,” said he; “at least, none that is
known to those outside.”
“Yet your father visited this city?”
“Many years ago, when he was a young warrior. At that time he and his
band had taken a fancy to hunt on this mountain and began to climb it in
search of game. One night, as they lay sleeping, all were seized and
bound. Then, being blindfolded they were carried bodily through what
seemed to be a long passage. In the morning their bonds were removed and
they found themselves within the splendid hidden city of the Tcha. A
council was held, at which it was decided to kill all but my father, the
atkayma of the Itzaex. He was made to promise that he would never
mention the secret of the existence of the city to any but his son or
his successor who would rule his nation in his place after him. Ever,
during his life and the lives of his successors, he was to prevent any
of the Itzaex or other people from wandering near to this mountain.
Under these conditions his life would be spared and he would be sent
back to his home. Of course my father promised, and the next night was
blindfolded and led through other passages, finding himself alone at
daylight at the very foot of the mountain. He told me all this, so that
I could fulfill his pledge when I became atkayma; but he would tell me
nothing of the people of Tcha, except that they were a wonderful race
and their city was magnificent with gold and beautiful red gems. Some
few details I gleaned from him, but aside from what I have now told you
I know nothing.”
“Then,” said I, “the thing is all hearsay. There is no positive proof
that within the steep and forbidding walls of this mountain lies any
city at all.”
Chaka looked at me reproachfully.
“My father, the atkayma, never lied,” he said.
“I don’t mean that, old man. He might have got a crack on the head, and
dreamed it all. Or the things he saw may have impressed him, an ignorant
savage, as more wonderful than they really were.”
“I believe the story, Sam,” said Allerton, sharply. “Indeed, I have
risked my life and future happiness upon its truth. Why should you
doubt?”
“Oh, I don’t Paul,” said I. “I’ve seen too many queer things to doubt
anything but the commonplace. But you must admit it’s a rather flimsy
story to base such great hopes on.”
We were sitting on the chests on the narrow ledge, talking in this
manner, when Bry, who was facing the cliff that rose sheer above us,
uttered a cry and pointed upward.
We all turned, to stare in astonishment.
Not ten yards distant, upon a tiny shelf of rock that looked like a
bracket jutting out from the cliff, squatted a man.
He was clothed in a white toga which had a border of deep blue. His hair
and a long beard that swept to his knees was golden red. His eyes were
large and blue in color, his features regular, expressive and
intelligent. Strangest of all _his skin was white as our own_!
I could not see that he bore any arms, but while he might not be very
tall, if standing erect, the muscles that showed in his bare arms and
neck convinced me he was powerfully built and strong as an ox.
Silently he sat, his knees clasped by his brawny hands, and even when he
found himself observed he gave no start nor evidence of emotion.
The situation became rather embarrassing to us at last, for while we
were objects of the man’s earnest scrutiny—a scrutiny that seemed to
search out and analyze our very thoughts—his composed countenance
offered us little information in return.
Chaka, as the important member of our party, just then, stood up and
bowed with great solemnity. Speaking the Maya tongue, common to all the
tribes throughout Yucatan, he said:
“I greet a friend. May peace reign between us.”
“If our god so decrees,” was the reply, in a deep, resonate voice. This
was an established Maya form of greeting among strangers. Said Chaka,
continuing:
“Whence do you come?”
“My foot was planted here before your own. It is for you to say from
whence you came.”
The man spoke quietly, without a trace of curiosity in his tone.
Doubtless he did not require information concerning us.
“I am Chaka, Royal Atkayma of the Itzaex,” returned our spokesman.
“These companions are from countries beyond the sea.”
The red-beard nodded.
“Little is there on bleak Aota to reward you for your journey,” he
remarked. It seemed he spoke the native language as well as Chaka did.
“May the gods of your fathers direct you upon your return.”
It was hard to answer this hint and say we were not going back just
then. We had no doubt that before us perched an inhabitant of the hidden
city, one of the mysterious and ancient race of Tcha. Remembering the
report of Chaka’s father that spies were detailed to guard the mountain
from intrusion we at once decided that this fellow was of this class. He
would have had poor eyes, indeed, had he not noted our aerial approach,
and his presence was now to be attributed to his desire to warn us
against ascending the mountain farther.
As for our being able to get much information from him, the task seemed
hopeless; but Allerton, addressing us in a low voice in English, said:
“I am going to ask this man some questions. Now that he has discovered
us I can see no harm in trying to pump him. He will report our presence
to his superiors, anyhow.”
“Maybe not,” I responded significantly.
“Don’t try to hurt him, for heaven’s sake!” warned Allerton. “We can’t
afford to antagonize these people in any way. Our cue is to make them
our friends.”
I had my own opinion concerning that, but said nothing.
The lieutenant now turned to the man above us, speaking the Maya to him.
“The legends say that the ancient race of Tcha still exists, hidden
somewhere near here. Your presence leads us to believe the tale.”
There was no reply.
“Your skin is white; you are not of the Maya race,” continued Paul.
The man remained silent.
“May we not visit your people, and greet them as friends?”
Red-beard shook his head. “You talk in riddles,” he replied coolly.
“A white skin in Yucatan is unusual,” hinted Paul.
“Yet five of you have white skins,” answered the other, not giving our
sun-browned Mexican credit for belonging to our race.
“We are Americans,” said Paul. “Soon we shall return to our own country,
far away, from whence we came. It would please us, since we are here, to
meet your people, who have so long secluded themselves from the great
world.”
The red-beard made no reply to this. He did not refuse to answer any
direct question, but would not argue or give us any satisfaction in
return for our friendly advances.
“We ask to be taken to your city,” continued Paul.
The man sat motionless.
“If you refuse our reasonable request we will find the way without your
guidance,” Allerton went on in a firm voice. He was getting provoked.
“In that case you will sacrifice your lives,” came the threatening
rejoinder.
“Not so,” said our leader, bluntly. “Our lives are not to be—”
He paused abruptly, for the ledge was vacant. The Tcha had disappeared
as if by magic.
With a bound Bryonia leaped up and caught a projecting rock from which
he swung himself to the shelf the red-beard had occupied. Then he also
disappeared and we waited anxiously the result of his quest. A few
moments later the black protruded his head and shook it gravely.
“Dey’s a tunnel heah,” he announced; “but it blocked up good an’ tight.”
Chaka and Allerton both investigated, we standing below to “boost” them
to the shelf. When they came back they reported that a small tunnel,
merely a crevice, in fact, led into the cliff for a distance of about
twenty feet and then ended in a solid wall.
“Of course it isn’t solid,” added Paul, “for the fellow evidently
escaped that way and lowered a big stone to block the tunnel. But from
this side it is impossible to remove the obstruction.”
“Well, then, what next?” I inquired.
“Let us wait here until darkness falls. It isn’t a very comfortable
location, I admit, but it will do for a few hours. Then we will inflate
our jackets, rise to a level with the top of the mountain, descend into
the city, and take our chances of receiving an affectionate welcome.”
We considered this plan thoughtfully and after discussing it in all its
phases decided it was best to follow, under the peculiar circumstances.