_In the Footsteps of Quesada_
Once out of hearing, Stubbs, who had not spoken a word, broke out.
"If there ever was a devil treading the earth, it's that man. I've
tol' Danbury so from the first. Ye can't trust that sort. My fingers
jus' itched along the butt of my weapin' all the while ye was talkin'.
Seems though a man oughter have a right to plug sech as him an' be
done with it."
"You're prejudiced, Stubbs. I'll admit the man is queer, but, after
all, he is protecting his own beliefs and his own people. I don't know
as I would trust him any further than you, but--he is something of a
pathetic figure, too, Stubbs."
"Huh?"
"Looks to me almost like an exile. I've got more to hate him for than
you have, but I don't very long at a time."
"Ye've got more t' like him for, too; he's doin' his best to git rid
of Sorez fer you. But I says, 'Watch him. Watch him day an'
night--mos' particlarly at night.'"
"But what did he mean by to-morrow? I don't know but what we ought to
let the treasure go and find Sorez first."
"Find Sorez and ye has ter help him; help him and the Priest fixes us
immejiate. Then where's yer girl? No, th' thing for us ter do is ter
git th' treasure first and get it quick. Then we has somethin' ter
work with."
"And if the treasure isn't there?"
"Get the girl an' make a run for home. The Priest won't touch her so
long as he thinks she is jus' bein' fooled. If we joins th' band, he
won't think so an' will kill us all."
"I don't know but what you're right," answered Wilson.
They pushed their tired animals on to the foot of the mountain and,
pausing here just long enough to catch their breath, began the long
ascent. It was no child's play from the first. The path was narrow,
rocky, and steep, blocked by undergrowth and huge boulders, many of
which at a touch became loosened and plunged with a crashing roar down
the slope behind them. With any lesser incentive than that which drove
them on, they would have stopped a dozen times.
Ahead of them loomed the broken crater edge with just below it a
fringe of stubby trees which broke off abruptly where the barren lava
began. The cone was like a huge sugar loaf with the upper third cut
off unevenly. The edges were sharp and made a wild jumble of crags
which were broken by many deep fissures. Here and there the mountain
was split into a yawning chasm. But the growth extended to within
about an eighth of a mile of the top. Here it stopped and the path
became nothing but a dizzy climb up a slope as steep and smooth as a
house roof.
They tethered their animals on the edge of the green growth and here
Stubbs set about making a camping place for the night.
"I don't want the dark comin' down on me," he growled as Wilson
suggested leaving their things and pushing on to the top, "not until I
finds a solid place fer my back where nothin' can come up behin'. You
go on if ye wants to, an' I'll git things settled."
Wilson hesitated, but in the end he was drawn on. She lay beyond,
somewhere upon the shores of the lake. It was a scramble almost upon
hands and knees. It looked as though it were an impossibility for men
heavily laden ever to make their way to the top. He turned once to
look back, and saw behind him the green sweep of the beautiful valley
of Jaula--then mile upon mile of heavy timber which extended to where
the lusty mountains began once more. He attacked the trail anew and at
the end of twenty minutes reached the top, bruised, cut, and
exhausted. He looked down within the cone--not upon death and
desolation, not upon ashes and tumbled rock, but upon the blue waters
of the lake of Guadiva. It lay nestled within the bosom of this cone
at a depth of just where, on the outside, the green began. The sun
had set early upon it and it now lay a grayish-blue surface surrounded
by a luxuriant tangle of growing things. In a circle about it stood
the dark buttress of the lava sides. It was like a turquoise set in
stone. The contrast to its surroundings was as startling as a living
eye of faultless blue in a grinning skull.
He did not have long to look at it--not long to search its borders for
some sign of the living. The dark came swiftly. As he was about to
turn back, he thought he caught a glimpse of a spiral of smoke upon
the farther side, but as he stared at this, it faded until he was not
sure it had been at all. He took it for a good-night message from her.
Then gold and jewels, though they might be within arm's reach, became
as nothing before the deep desire which almost dragged his heart from
his body--which almost sent him scrambling down the steep sides within
the cone to make a wild dash to reach her side that night.
When he returned, he found Stubbs anxiously waiting for him with
supper ready and a shelter for the night picked out beneath two large
rocks which effectively guarded their rear.
The next morning, as soon as the sun tipped with pink the snow-capped
tops of the Andes, Stubbs was up and studying the map again. The air
during the night had been sharp, but snugly wrapped in their blankets
both men had secured a sound sleep. Towards the early morning,
however, Wilson had begun to toss a little with thoughts of Jo. It
was of her he first spoke. Stubbs interrupted him sharply.
"See here, m' son," he said with some irritation, "we ain't got but a
darned short time in which to work. So th' only way is to mark out a
course now and stick to it. While you've been dreamin' of yer
lady-love--which is right an' proper--I've been thinkin' on how we can
git her an' the other thing too. Here's the pint I hed reached when
you interrupted me: first and foremost, ye can't git th' girl until ye
gits suthin' to git her with. Sorez ain't a-goin' to listen to you
until ye can show him he's wrong. He ain't goneter b'lieve he's wrong
until ye can show him th' treasure. Secondly, the Priest gent ain't
goneter sleep till he finds out what fer we are wanderin' 'round here.
Thirdly, when he does find out, it ain't goneter be comfortable, as ye
might say, to be seen in this here harbor. Fourthly, it ain't goneter
be easy to git away with what we does find with a couple of hundred
natives at our heels, which they will be mighty soon. So, says I, we'd
better quit dreamin' an' begin fishin' right erway."
He paused to see what effect this had. Wilson nodded for him to go
on.
"Then we'll take another p'int; this here map starts from the hut
where the heathen image lived. Wherefore we've got ter find thet hut
afore we can start. We've gotter lay our course from thet. So, says I,
there's jus' one thing ter do--hunt fer it lively."
"On the other hand," broke in Wilson, "if Sorez is in danger, the girl
is in danger. The treasure is going to be here for a while longer, but
maybe the girl won't. If we could combine forces with Sorez----"
"Well, I'm damned!" growled Stubbs. "See here, m' boy, the only thing
that will do is to bring the Priest down on _us._ If Sorez wasn't
crazy, he wouldn't have come in here with thet idol with less than a
regiment back of him. But he has, an' what we wanter do is ter keep
outer the squall he's in."
"You don't understand the man. He is absolutely fearless. He knows the
place--he knows the natives--he knows the Priest. He won't be caught
napping."
"Maybe so. Then he don't need us."
Wilson sprang to his feet. He was half ashamed of an obsession which
shut out thought of everything else but the girl.
"See here, Stubbs," he blurted out, "you're right and I'm a sickly
sentimentalist. I've been thinking so much of her that I'm not fit for
an expedition of this sort. But from now on I'm under your orders.
We'll get this heathen treasure--and we'll take it down and show it to
Sorez--and we'll take the girl and fight our way out if we have to. As
you say, we haven't much time and we've got to work hard. We know the
hut is near the cone and overlooks the lake. Let's see----"
He reached for the map which he had fastened about his neck, but
Stubbs checked his hand.
"Easy, boy. Jus' as well not to let the shadders know we has maps.
I've gut my copy here hidden in the grass. S'posin' the hut is in the
center; this here docyment mentions two peaks--one 'kissed by the sun'
which I take it is the highest, and t' other where 'the trees climb
highest.' Now at sea we often lays our course inshore by jus' sech
marks. I figgers it out this way; these p'ints bein' startin' p'ints
from the hut mus' be somewhere nigh the hut. So if we finds the
tallest peak on the horizon an' then the peak on the cone where the
trees come up the farthest an' gits the two in line, we'll have a
straight course for the hut. Ain't thet so?"
"Sounds right."
"Maybe it is; maybe it ain't. Anyhow, it's wuth tryin'. Now I'm for
givin' the burros lots er rope an' lettin' 'em nibble here. Then we'll
hide our provisions in one place an' our ammunition in another and
start immedjiate. I 'spect there's a dozen of them niggers watchin'
us. We'll take a good look roun' fore we begin."
Both men beat the bushes for the radius of a hundred rods or more
without, however, bringing to light anything but a few birds. Then
Stubbs piled the provisions and blankets together with the picks and
shovels into a crevice between the rocks and covered them with dry
leaves and bits of sticks. He made another reconnoitre before hiding
the ammunition. This he finally buried in another crevice, covering
it so skillfully that not a leaf beneath which it lay looked as though
it had been disturbed. He piled a few stones in one place, notched a
tree in another, and left a bit of his handkerchief in a third spot,
to mark the cache. Then, shouldering their rifles, the two men began
the ascent.
Refreshed by their rest and the brisk morning air, they reached the
summit easily and once again Wilson gazed down upon the lake now
reflecting golden sunbeams until it looked as though it were of molten
gold itself. Even Stubbs was moved by its beauty.
"Sorter makes you feel like worshipin' suthin' yerself," he
exclaimed.
But he was the practical one of the two, or they would have got no
further. His eyes swept the surrounding circle of peaks until they
rested upon a majestic pile which so clearly overtopped its fellows as
to leave no doubt that this must be the one "kissed by the sun." To
the right from where they stood the second landmark was equally
distinct, the green creeping up its sides several hundred rods higher
than upon the others.
"There ye are!" he exclaimed, pointing them out to Wilson. "Clear as
though they was labeled. An' now we can't stand here admirin' the
scenery. There ain't no trolley to where we're bound."
He led the way, keeping as closely as possible to the crater's edge.
But the path was a rugged one and frequently broken by half-hidden
ravines which often drove them down and in a wide circle around. It
was a place for sure feet and sound nerves for they skirted the edge
of sheer falls of hundreds of feet. Before they reached a position
opposite the crater peak, they found themselves almost down to the
green line again. Here they discovered a sort of trail--scarcely
marked more than a sheep path, but still fairly well outlined. They
followed this to the top again. When they looked down upon the lake
and across to the distant summit, they found the two landmarks in
line. But neither to the right nor to the left could they see the
hut--that magnet which had drawn them for so many miles over the sea.
Stubbs looked disconsolate.
"Well," he said finally, "jus' my luck. Mighter known better."
"But we haven't given up yet," said Wilson. "Did you expect to find a
driveway leading to it? You get out to the right and I'll explore to
the left."
Stubbs had not been gone more than ten minutes before he heard a shout
from Wilson and hurrying to his side found him peering into a small
stone hut scarcely large enough to hold more than a single man.
As the two stood there they felt for the first time the possibilities
which lay before them. The quest loomed larger and more real than ever
before. From a half ghost treasure it became a reality. As the first
actual proof of the verity of the map which they possessed it gave
them a keener vision of what was to come.
"Lord, if it should be true!" gasped Stubbs.
"Man--man, it is!" cried Wilson. "I feel it tingling through every
vein. We are on the very edge of the biggest treasure a man ever
found!"
"What--did the paper say there was? Can you remember?"
"Gold plate and jewels--over six hundred pieces. No one knows how
valuable they are. Each one might be a fortune in itself."
"Gawd!"
Stubbs sat down on the threshold of the little hut. He drew out his
pipe.
"Let's jus' think on 't a minute," he said.
It was not so much the money value these things represented that
appealed to the men. They could not grasp that. Nor was it the
intrinsic beauty of the objects themselves. It was just the thrilling
consciousness of being within that golden zone which had been sought
by so many during so many centuries. Men from the four corners of the
earth had come in search of what now lay within a day's reach of them;
brave men, men who had made history. Yet they had failed; the
mountains had kept their secret and the little blue lake had laughed
at their efforts.
Wilson broke the spell. He was feverish with the desire to go farther.
It was the exciting finish to a long race; the last move in a puzzle
which had challenged men for centuries.
"The map, Stubbs! We mustn't stop here now."
Stubbs put up his pipe and unrolled once more the bit of parchment.
The directions now seemed brutally calm.
"From where the peaks kiss," he read, "take one hundred strides to the
right."
"We must go back to there," said Wilson. "Come on."
He led the way at a run. This starting point was a distance of several
hundred yards from the hut itself. From there Wilson took the stated
number of steps. He stopped with a start upon the brink of a hidden
precipice. The chasm was narrow, scarcely ten feet wide, and from
where he stood slanted so that the bottom could not be seen. But a
little way to the right of here one looked into a sheer drop which
ended in darkness. Wilson wiped his forehead.
"I guess we had better remember what the Priest says about those with
unsteady steps. Another yard and I would have gone down."
But Stubbs was again bending over the map.
"The brave do not falter," it read, "for the seeming is not always the
true. The path leads down twice the length of a man's body, then ten
paces to the left. Again the seeming is not true, for it leads back
again and under."
"Lord!" exclaimed Stubbs, "Why couldn't he put this in plain English.
There is no sense in that."
"The path leads down," repeated Wilson. "That can mean but one thing;
it leads over the edge here."
"To what? You get into that hole an'----"
"Let's have a closer look."
The opposite side was smooth and sloped in so that it was lost beneath
the side upon which they stood. A man dropping over would strike this
slanting surface.
"If we had brought a bit of rope now."
"We'll have to take the next best thing," said Wilson. "Peel off your
coat."
"You don't mean to go over the side, m' son?"
"It's only twice the length of a man's body," repeated Wilson. "If
that is so, I ought to strike something below--a ledge--that we can't
see now."
"Better wait until we can get a rope. If it ain't so, you may drop a
mile."
"It would take two hours to go back. I believe that phrase 'the
seeming is not always the true' means something. Those things were not
put in there for nothing. And it isn't likely that such a treasure as
this was hidden where it could ever be found by accident."
He had stripped off his coat and stood waiting impatiently for Stubbs.
The latter delayed.
"I'll be damned if you go down there," he said finally. "If anyone
goes, it's me. In these sorter hills ye can't tell how deep a hole
is."
"I wouldn't drop any farther than you."
"Maybe not. But if anyone gits foolish round here, it's me." He added,
looking Wilson squarely in the eyes, "There ain't no one waiting fer
me to come back."
But Wilson refused to listen.
"In the first place, I'm the lighter man, Stubbs; and in the second,
I'm the younger. This isn't a matter for sentiment, but bull
strength. I'm in earnest, Stubbs; I'm going."
For a moment Stubbs considered the advisability of attempting to knock
him down. It seemed foolish for the boy to risk his life to save a
matter of two hours. But when he met again the stubborn eyes and the
jaw which was locked upon the resolution, he recognized the futility
of further protest. He took off his coat and they tied the two sleeves
together.
"Once more afore ye start, boy,--won't ye consider?"
"Stubbs, this isn't like you. There is no danger. Get a good brace
with your feet. You won't have to bear the full weight because I can
climb a little."
Without more ado Wilson let himself slowly over the edge. He slipped
the length of the sleeves, his feet dangling in the air over what
depth he did not know. He swung his toes in either direction and felt
them strike the opposite wall. He lowered himself a bit more, and his
toe rested upon what seemed a firm platform. He was on a projection
from the opposite cliff face which slanted under. He let go the sleeve
and looked down. He found he could step from here to a narrow path
upon the nigh side where at this point the two walls came almost
together. He was now beneath the place where he had started, which
hung over him like a canopy. The walls again separated below,
revealing a dark cavern.
At the end of a few steps taken with his face flat to the rock, he
found himself again on a narrow trail which threaded its way over a
yawning chasm. He moved slowly, shuffling one foot ahead and dragging
the other after it. In this way he had gone perhaps one hundred feet
when the path seemed to come to an abrupt end. His foot dangled over
nothing. He almost lost his balance. When he recovered himself, he was
so weak and dizzy that it was with difficulty he clung to the rock. In
a moment he was able to think. He had been moving on a downward slope
and it was probable that this was only a more abrupt descent in the
shape of steps. One thing was sure: the path did not end here, if it
really was a path, and not a chance formation. The opposite ledge had
constantly receded until it was now some thirty feet distant. The path
upon which he stood had narrowed until it was scarcely over eighteen
inches wide at this spot. There was one other possibility: the ledge
at this point might have crumbled and fallen. In his progress he had
loosened many stones which rattled downwards out of hearing.
He secured a good balance on his left foot and cautiously lowered
the other. Inch by inch he groped down keeping his arms as far
outstretched as possible. Finally his toe touched something solid.
He ventured an inch farther at the risk of losing his balance. He
found a more secure footing and, taking a chance, rested his full
weight. The base was firm and he drew down the other foot. He was on a
wider path than that above. He paused here for the effort had made his
breath come short. It was more the mental than the physical
strain which had weakened him. It was nerve-racking work. The dark
and the silence oppressed him. There was almost a tomb-like effect
in this slit of the earth where man had not been for centuries.
Once he had ventured to shout to Stubbs but his voice had sounded so
muffled and the effort had produced in him such a panicky feeling
that he did not try it again.
Once more he shuffled forward and once more his foot dangled over
nothing. But he had gained more confidence now and lowered it to find
another firm base. Two more steps came after this, and then the path
proceeded on the level once more. He had gone some forty paces on this
last lap when he was brought up against a face of solid rock. He moved
his hands over it as far as possible in every direction, but he could
not detect any boundaries. It appeared to be a part of the cliff
itself. But once more he recalled the warning, "The seeming is not
always the true." Then he tried to recall the details of the
directions. His map was about his neck but he was in such a position
that it would be hazardous to attempt to reach it. In spite of the
many times he had read it, he could not now remember a word. The more
he tried, the more confused he became.
After all, he had gone farther than he had intended. The thought of
returning came as a relief. The next time he would have more
confidence and could proceed with less of a strain. And so, step by
step, he began to retrace the path. He was forced to keep his cheek
almost flat to the rock. The dry dust sifted into his nostrils and
peppered his eyes so that he was beginning to suffer acutely from the
inflammation. His arms, too, began to pain him as he had been unable
to relieve them at all from their awkward position. The last fifty
feet were accomplished in an agony that left him almost too weak to
raise his voice. But he braced himself and shouted. He received no
response. He lifted his head and reached up an aching arm for the
sleeve which he had left dangling over the cliff. It was not there.
With a sinking heart he realized that something must have happened to
Stubbs. The coats had probably fallen into the chasm below.