Chapter XIII.

INTO THE WHIRLPOOL.

I hardly know what happened after that. I was barely conscious that

there was movement round me, and that my wrists and ankles were being

tightly bound. Harry told me afterward that he made one last desperate

stand, and was halted by a cry from Desiree, imploring him to employ

the club in the intended office of the dagger.

He wheeled about and raised it to strike; then his arm dropped, unable

to obey for the brutal horror of it. In another instant he and

Desiree, too, had been overpowered and carried to the floor by the

savage rush.

This he told me as we lay side by side in a dark cavern, whither we had

been carried by the victorious Incas. I had expected instant death;

the fact that our lives had been spared could have but one meaning, I

thought: to the revenge of death was to be added the vindictiveness of

torture.

We knew nothing of Desiree's fate. Harry had not seen her since he had

been crushed to the floor by that last assault. And instead of fearing

for her life, we were convinced that a still more horrible doom was to

be hers, and hoped only that she would find the means to avoid it by

the only possible course.

I have said that we again found ourselves in darkness, but it was much

less profound than it had been before. We could distinctly see the

four walls of the cavern in which we lay; it was about twelve feet by

twenty, and the ceiling was very low. The ground was damp and cold,

and we had neither ponchos nor jackets to protect us.

A description of our state of mind as we lay exhausted, wounded, and

bound so tightly that any movement was impossible, would seem to betray

a weakness. Perhaps it was so; but we prayed for the end--Harry with

curses and oaths, myself in silence. There is a time when misery

becomes so acute that a man wants only deliverance and gives no thought

to the means.

That was reaction, and gradually it lessened. And when, after we had

lain unconscious for many hours (we can hardly be said to have slept)

they came to bathe our wounds and bruises and bring us food and drink,

the water was actually grateful to our hot, suffering flesh, and we ate

almost with relish. But before they left they again bound our wrists

firmly behind us, and tightened the cords on our ankles.

If they meditated punishment they certainly seemed to be in no hurry

about it. The hours passed endlessly by. We were cared for as

tenderly as though we had been wounded comrades instead of vanquished

foes, and though we were allowed to remain on the damp, hard rock of

the cavern, we gradually recovered from the effects of that gruesome

struggle in the doorway, and our suffering bodies began to feel

comparative comfort.

"What the deuce are they waiting for?" Harry growled, after one of

their visits with food and water. "Why don't they end it?"

"Most likely because a well man can appreciate torture better than a

sick one," I answered, not having seen fit to speak of it before. "You

may be sure we'll get all that's coming to us."

"But what will they do?"

"Heaven knows. They are capable of anything. We'll get the worst."

There was a silence; then Harry said slowly, hesitating:

"Paul--do you think--Desiree--"

"I don't think--I dare not think about her," I interrupted. "And it is

our fault; we failed her. I should have put her beyond their reach, as

I promised. I have reproached myself bitterly, Hal; you need add

nothing."

"Do you think I would? Only--there is something else. About what she

said to you. I knew that, you know."

I was silent; he continued:

"I knew it long ago. Do you think I am blind? And I want to say this

while I have a chance--it was uncommon good of you. To take it the way

you did, I mean."

His simplicity made me uncomfortable, and I made no answer. Indeed,

the thing was beyond discussion; it was merely a bare fact which, when

once stated, left nothing to be said. So I refused to humor Harry's

evident desire to thrash out the topic, and abruptly changed the

subject.

We must have lain bound in that cavern little short of a week. Our

wounds and bruises were completely healed, save one gash on Harry's

side where he had been hurled against the sharp edge of one of the

stone seats as he had been borne to the floor. But it was not painful,

and was nearly closed. And we could feel the return of strength even

through the stiffness caused by the inactivity of our muscles.

We had given up wondering at the delay by the time it came to an end.

When they finally came and cut our bonds and led us from the cavern we

felt nothing keener than a mere curiosity as to what awaited us at the

end of our journey. For myself, there was a distinct sensation of

thankfulness that uncertainty was to end.

They took no chances with us, but paid us the compliment of a truly

royal escort--at least, in number. There could not have been less than

two hundred of them in front, behind, and on either side, as we left

the cavern and proceeded along a narrow, winding passage to the left.

Once, as we started, we stretched our arms high and stood on tiptoe to

relieve the stiffness of our joints; and immediately found ourselves

clutched on every side by a score of hands.

"Gad! We seem to have made an impression!" Harry grinned. On the way

down the passage we marched with the Prussian goose-step, and felt the

blood quickening to life in our legs and arms.

We had proceeded in this manner for some ten minutes when we rounded a

corner which I recognized at once by the peculiar circular formation of

the walls. We were on our way to the great cavern--the cavern where we

had first seen Desiree, and where later she had won the toss for our

lives and then preserved them.

Another minute and we had reached the steps leading to the tunnel under

the lake. Here our guards seemed in doubt as to just what to do; those

in front halted and stood hesitant, and it seemed to me that as they

gazed below down the stone stair their eyes held a certain shrinking

terror. Then one came up from behind and with a commanding gesture

ordered them to descend, and they obeyed.

Harry and I still found ourselves surrounded by a full company; there

were fifty or sixty ahead of us and at least twice that number behind.

The idea of a successful struggle was so patently impossible that I

believe it never entered our minds.

There was further delay at the bottom of the stairs, for, as I have

said before, the tunnel was extremely narrow and it was barely possible

to walk two abreast. None of them turned back, but Harry and I could

scarcely restrain a laugh at the sight of those immediately in front of

us treading on the toes of their fellows to keep out of our way. With

all their savage brutality I believe they possessed little real bravery.

Five minutes more and we had reached the end of the tunnel and found

ourselves at the foot of the spiral stairway. The passage was so

blocked by those ahead that we were unable to approach it; they

flattened their squatty bodies against the wall and we were forced to

squeeze our way past them.

There we stood, barely able to make out their black forms against the

blacker wall, when the one who appeared to be the leader approached and

motioned to us to ascend. We hesitated, feeling instinctively that

this was our last chance to make a stand, weighing our fate.

That was a dark moment, but though I did not know it, Providence was

with us. For, happening to glance downward, beneath the spiral

stair--for there was no ground immediately beneath it--I saw a faint

glimmer and a movement as though of a dim light in the black, yawning

space at my feet. (You must understand that we were now inside the

base of the column in the center of the great cavern.)

Moved either by curiosity or a command of Providence, I stooped and

peered intently downward, and saw that the movement was the almost

imperceptible reflection of a stray ray of light from above on the

surface of water. At the time I merely wondered idly if the water came

from the same source as that in the lake outside, not thinking it

sufficiently important to mention to Harry.

Then a question came from him:

"No good, Paul. They are a hundred to one, and we are empty-handed.

Do we go?"

"There is nothing else to do," I answered, and I placed my foot on the

first step of the spiral stair.

Behind us came the guide, with a dozen others at his heels.

The ascent seemed even longer and more arduous than before, for then we

had been propelled by keen curiosity. Twice I stumbled in the

darkness, and would have fallen if it had not been for Harry's

supporting hand behind me. But finally we reached the top and stepped

out into the glare of the great cavern. I saw the stone slab close to

behind us, noiselessly, and wondered if I should ever see it open again.

We looked about us, and as our eyes sought the alcove in the wall

opposite, we gave a simultaneous start of surprise, and from Harry's

lips came a cry, half of gladness, half of wonder. For, seated on the

golden throne, exactly as before, was Desiree. By her side was seated

the Inca king; round them, guards and attendants.

We gazed at her in astonishment, but she did not look at us; even at

that distance we could see that her eyes were lowered to the ground.

Harry called her name--there was no answer. Again he called, and I

caught him by the arm.

"Don't, Hal! She can't possibly do us any good, and you may do her

harm. If she doesn't answer, it is because she has a reason."

He was silent, but not convinced, and would probably have argued the

matter if our attention had not been arrested by a movement in the

alcove.

The king rose and extended an arm, and the Incas who filled the seats

surrounding the cavern fell flat on their faces.

"We don't seem to have thinned them out any," I observed. "I believe

there are actually more than before. Where do they all come from?"

"The Lord knows!"

"And, by the way, it is now apparent why they waited so long to attend

to us. The king naturally wanted to be present at the entertainment,

and he had to take time to recover from his little fasting operation.

But now, what in the name of--my word, the thing is to be done in all

propriety! Look!"

The king had dropped his arm, and the Incas were again sitting as

Nature had intended they should sit, instead of on their noses. And

four attendants had approached the throne, bearing a frame of quipos.

"So we are to have a fair trial," Harry observed.

"With the king for judge."

"And a hundred dead rats as evidence."

"Right; they can't get even with us, anyway; there are only two of us.

And as far as the other is concerned, I have an idea."

The king had left his throne and approached the outer edge of the

alcove, until he stood almost directly under the oval plate of gold

representing Pachacamac or the unknown god.

To this he knelt and made a succession of weird, uncouth gestures that

suggested a lunatic or a traveling hypnotist. Evidently the good

Pachacamac approved whatever suggestions the royal priest communicated,

for he rose to his feet with a solemn grin and strutted majestically to

the rear, facing the frame of quipos.

It was evident that he no longer had faith in Desiree's interpretation

of the divine will of the great Pachacamac. It is a royal privilege to

be able to judge your own enemies.

The hand of the Child of the Sun passed slowly up and down the frame of

quipos, betraying a commendable reluctance. It touched the yellow cord

and passed on; grasped the white and dropped it.

"The old hypocrite!" exclaimed Harry in disgust. "Does he imagine he

is playing with us?"

Then there was an imperceptible movement, rather felt than seen,

throughout the vast assemblage, and Desiree sank back on her throne of

gold with a shudder as the king severed with the knife the black cord

of death and laid it on the ground at her feet.

I looked at Harry; his face became slightly pale, but his eyes met mine

firmly, speaking of a fortitude unconquerable. Then we again riveted

our gaze on the alcove opposite.

An attendant approached from the rear and stood before the golden

throne, while the king motioned to Desiree to take up the black cord.

For a moment she did not understand him, then she drew back, shaking

her head firmly.

The king did not wait to argue the matter, but stooped himself and

picked up the cord and handed it to the attendant, who received it with

a great show of respect and retired to the rear, where a commotion was

created by its appearance.

The judgment was passed, but what was to be the nature of the

execution? That uncertainty and the weirdness of the scene gave to the

thing an air of unreality that shut out the tragic and admitted only

the grotesque.

I have many times in my life felt nearer to death than when I stood on

the top of that lofty column, surrounded by the thousands of squatting

dwarfs, whose black bodies reflected dully the mounting light from the

flaming urns.

I cannot say what we expected, for we knew not what to expect. Many

conjectures entered my mind, but none of them approached the fact.

But, thinking that our guide might now return at any moment to lead us

below, and not caring to be surprised by an attack from behind on that

narrow precipice, I moved across to the rear, where I could keep my

eyes on the alcove opposite, and at the same time watch the stone slab

which closed the opening to the spiral stairway. A word to Harry and

he joined me.

"Perhaps we can open it from above," he suggested.

"Not likely," I answered, "and, anyway, what's the use?"

He knelt down and tugged at it, but there was no edge on which to

obtain a purchase. The thing was immovable.

Five minutes passed, during which there was no movement, either in the

audience on the stone seats or in the alcove. But there was an

indefinable air of expectancy on the faces of the king and those

surrounding him, and I kept a sharp eye on the stone slab.

Another five minutes and still nothing happened. Harry called across

to Desiree, or rather began to call, for I stopped him with a jerk. It

was impossible for her to aid us, and her situation was already

sufficiently perilous.

Then, becoming impatient, I decided to try to move the stone slab

myself. Kneeling down, I placed the palms of my hands firmly against

its surface and pressed with all my weight.

And then I knew. Complete comprehension flashed through my brain on

the instant. I sprang to my feet, and my thought must have shown on my

face, for Harry looked at me in surprise, demanding:

"What is it? What is it, Paul?"

And I answered calmly:

"We're caught, Hal. Like rats in a trap. Oh, the black devils!

Listen! We have no time to lose. Bend over and touch the palm of your

hand to the ground."

He did so, plainly puzzled. Then he drew his hand hastily away,

exclaiming: "It's hot!"

"Yes." I spoke quickly. "Our boots kept us from feeling it before, and

the stone doesn't throw out enough heat to feel it in the air. They've

built a fire under us in the column. The stone is thick and heats

slowly."

"But what--that means--"

"It means one of two things. In a few minutes this floor will be

baking hot. Then we either fry on their stone griddle or drown in the

lake. You see the distance below--only a man crazed by suffering or

one incredibly brave would take that leap. This is their little

entertainment--they expect us to dance for them."

"But the lake! If we could take it clean--"

I saw that the lake was our only chance, if there could be said to be

any in so desperate a situation. To be sure, there seemed to be no

possibility of escaping, even if we took the water without injury. On

every side its bank was lined with the watching Incas, and the bank

itself was so steep that to ascend it would have required wings.

The heat began to be felt even through the soles of our heavy boots;

involuntarily I lifted one foot, then the other. I saw the Child of

the Sun in the alcove lean forward with an appreciative grin. Another

minute--

I jerked my wits together--never did my brain answer with better speed.

And then I remembered that flash of water I had seen under the spiral

stairway at the base of the column. I had thought at the time that it

might be connected with the lake itself. If that were so--

I turned to Harry and conveyed my idea to him in as few words as

possible as we walked up and down, side by side. It was impossible

longer to stand still--the stone was so hot that the bare hand could

not be held against it for an instant. I saw that he did not

comprehend what I said about the water in the column, but he did

understand my instructions, and that was all that was necessary.

We ran to the edge of the column nearest the alcove.

Removing our woolen knickerbockers--for better ease in the water--we

placed them on the hot stone, and on top of them our boots, which we

had also removed. Thus our feet were protected as we stood on the

extreme edge of the column, taking a deep breath for strength and nerve.

I saw the thousands of black savages--who had been cheated of their

dance--crane their necks forward eagerly.

I saw the king gesture excitedly to an attendant, who turned and flew

from the alcove.

I saw Desiree spring up from the golden throne and run to the edge of

the alcove, crying to us in a tone of despair. But I did not hear her

words, for I myself was calling:

"Take it clean, Hal. Ready--go!"

The next instant we were flying headlong through the air toward the

surface of the lake a hundred feet below.

Men have told me since that I never made that dive, or that I greatly

overestimated the distance, and I admit that as I look back at it now

it appears incredible. Well, they are welcome to their opinion, but I

would not advise them to try to argue the matter with Harry.

The impact with the water all but completely stunned me; as I struck

the surface it seemed that a thousand cannons had exploded in my ears.

Down, down I went--lucky for us that the lake was apparently bottomless!

I seemed to have gone as far below the water as I had been above it

before I was able to twist myself about and meet it with my belly.

Then, striking out with every ounce of strength in me, I made for the

surface as rapidly as possible. I had started with my lungs full of

air, but that headlong plunge had emptied them.

I made the surface at last and looked round for Harry, calling his

name. For perhaps thirty seconds I called in vain, then there came an

unanswering shout off to the left. The urns were far above us now, and

the light on the surface of the lake was very dim, but soon I made out

Harry's head. He was swimming easily toward me, apparently unhurt.

"All right, Hal?"

"Right. And you?"

"Sound as a whistle. Now make for the column."

At the instant that we turned to swim toward the column I became aware

of a strong current in the water carrying us off to the right. It was

inexplicable, but there was no time then for speculation, and we struck

out with bold, sweeping strokes.

The Incas had left the stone seats and advanced to the water's edge. I

could see their black, sinister faces, thousands of them, peering

intently at us through the dim light, but they made no sound.

Once I cast a glance over my shoulder and saw Desiree standing at the

edge of the alcove with her clenched fists pressed to her throat.

Beside her stood the Child of the Sun. Harry, too, saw her and sent

her a shout of farewell, but there was no answer.

We were now less than thirty feet from the column. Its jeweled sides

sparkled and shone before us; looking up, our eyes were dazzled.

Something struck the water near me. I glanced to the right and saw

what moved me to hasten my stroke and call to Harry to do likewise.

The black devils were increasing the fun by hurling stones at us from

the bank--apparently with the kind approval of Pachacamac.

As we neared the column the current which tended to carry us to the

right became stronger, but still we seemed not to be approaching the

bank. What could it mean? The struggle against it was fast taking our

strength.

Looking up, I saw that we had swung round to the other side of the

column--it was between us and the alcove. Then I understood. We were

in a whirlpool, ever increasing in force, which was carrying us swiftly

in a circle from left to right and approaching the column.

I called a swift warning to Harry, who was some ten feet to my left,

and he answered that he understood. The stones from the bank were

falling thick about us now; one struck me on the shoulder, turning me

half round.

The current became swifter--so swift that we were almost helpless

against it and were carried around and around the column, which was but

a few feet away. And always complete silence.

Nearer and nearer we were carried, till, thrusting out my arm, the tips

of my fingers brushed against the side of the column. The water

whirled with the rapidity of a mill-stream; ten more seconds and our

brains would have been dashed against the unyielding stone. It was now

but half an arm's length away. I kept thrusting out my arm in a wild

endeavor to avoid it.

Suddenly my outstretched hand found a purchase in a break in the wall,

but the force of the water tore it loose and swept me away. But when I

reached the same spot again I thrust out both hands, and, finding the

edge, held on desperately. The next instant Harry's body was swept

against mine, doubling the strain on my fingers.

"The column!" I gasped. "Inside--through the wall--opening--I am

holding--"

He understood, and the next moment he, too, had grasped the edge.

Together we pulled ourselves, little by little, toward the opening; for

our strength was nearly spent, and the force of the maelstrom was nigh

irresistible.

It was as I had thought. The base of the column consisted merely of

two massive pillars, some twelve feet in length and circular in shape.

The water rushed in through each of the two openings thus left, and

inside of the column was the center of the whirlpool, sucking the water

from both sides. The water I had seen; I had not counted on the

whirlpool.

We had pulled ourselves round till our bodies rested against the edge

of the opening, clinging to either side. Inside all was blackness, but

we could judge of the fury of the maelstrom by the force of the current

outside. Stones hurled by the Incas were striking against the sides of

the column and in the water near us.

We were being hunted from life like dogs, and a hot, unreasoning anger

surged through my brain--anger at the grinning savages on the bank, at

the whirling black water, at Harry, at myself.

Whichever way we looked was death, and none worth choosing.

"I can't hold--much longer," Harry gasped. "What's the use--old

man--Paul--come--I'm going--"

He disappeared into the black, furious whirlpool with that word. The

next instant my own fingers were torn from their hold by a sudden jerk

of the water, and I followed.

Under the Andes · 第 13 / 24 章