sir; and you did your part of it splendidly."
"I did?" said Cyril, looking at the man in wonder.
"Yes, you, sir. I only wish our Master Perry would speak up as bold."
"Why, John Manning," said Cyril, half laughing, "if you only knew how I
felt."
"I do, sir."
"Not you, or you would not talk like that."
"I tell you I do, sir. You felt just as I did first time I went into
action, and heard the bullets go whizzing by like bees in the air, and
saw some of them sting the poor fellows, who kept on dropping here and
there, many of 'em never to get up again. I thought I was in a terrible
fright, and that I was such a miserable coward I ought to be drummed out
of the regiment; but it couldn't have been fright, only not being used
to it; and I couldn't have been a coward, because I was in the front
rank all the time, close alongside of your father; and when we'd charged
and driven the enemy flying, the colonel clapped me on the shoulder and
said he'd never seen a braver bit of work in his life, and of course he
ought to know."
"I did feel horribly frightened, though," said Cyril.
"Thought you did, sir, that was all. You couldn't have done it better."
"I don't know," said the boy, smiling. "Suppose the Indians had found
me out?"
"Found you out, sir? Bah! If it comes to the worst, they'll find out
you can fight as well as talk. Now, just look here, sir; didn't you
ever have a set to at school, when you were at home in England?"
"Yes, two or three."
"And didn't you feel shimmery-whimmery before you began?"
"Yes."
"And as soon as you were hurt, forgot all that, and went in and
whipped."
"Well, yes, I suppose so."
"Of course you did, sir. That's human nature, that is. But, I say, Mr
Cyril, sir, what does it all mean? Why has the colonel come out here?
He can't have come just to see people cut down a few trees and peel off
the bark."
"I begin to think he has."
"But I could have taken him down in Surrey, sir, and showed him into
woods where they were doing all that to the oak trees, without coming
out here, or running any risks of getting an arrow sent through you,
just as if you was a chicken got ready to roast."
"I don't quite understand it yet," said Cyril; "but don't talk any more
now. Look, look! what is he going to do?"
CHAPTER THIRTEEN.
IN TREASURE LAND.
They were by this time close up in front of the huts of the bark
gatherers, when all at once one of the huge condors came swooping along
overhead, looking gigantic up against the sky. And then it was as if a
sudden idea had struck the colonel, who raised his piece, took aim,
lowered it, and hesitated; for the huge bird was at a great distance,
and the people looked at him wonderingly. The next moment his rifle was
at his shoulder again, there was the flash and puff of white smoke, the
sharp crack, and the rumbling echoing roar in the mountains, as the
condor was seen to swerve and then dart straight upward.
"Missed!" muttered John Manning, "but he felt the bullet."
"Hit!" cried Cyril excitedly, for all at once the bird's wings closed,
and it fell over and over and then dropped like a stone, crashing in
among the trees about a hundred yards away.
The Indians had looked on at first incredulously, and several of them
exchanged glances as the condor shot upward as if to escape unharmed;
but the moment it turned over and began to fall, they set up a loud
shout and rushed off to pick up the fallen bird, the whole crowd making
for the dense patch of forest, and then walking back steadily, bearing
the bird in triumph.
"Rather a risky thing to do, boys," said the colonel, reloading as he
spoke. "If I had missed, I should have done harm to the position we
have made in these people's estimation. But I felt that I could hit the
bird, and now they will believe that I may prove a terrible enemy in
anger."
"Do it? Of course he could," whispered John Manning. "I've known him
take a rifle from one of our men lots of times, and pick off one of the
Beloochees who was doing no end of mischief in our ranks up in the
mountains."
By this time the Indians were back, looking full of excitement, and
ready almost to worship the white chief who had come amongst them, with
such power of life and death in his hands--powers beside which their
bows and arrows and poison-dealing blowpipes seemed to them to be
pitiful in the extreme. They laid the body of the great bird, which was
stone-dead, at his feet, and then looked at him wonderingly, as if to
say, "What next?"
That shot had the effect which the colonel had intended to produce, for
to a man the Indians felt the terrible power their white visitor held in
his hand, and each felt that he might be the object of his vengeance if
any attack was made.
But Colonel Campion felt that the effect was only likely to be
temporary, and that he must gain the object for which he had made his
perilous journey as quickly as possible, and begin to return before the
impression had worn off.
Bidding Cyril then tell their guide that he should camp there for a few
days, he sent the two men back for the mules, giving orders that they
should take a couple of the Indians who had followed them to help.
His manner carried the day, and the party of four departed.
"I suppose it's all right, Master Cyril," whispered John Manning; "but I
should have thought we'd ha' done better by fortifying our own camp, and
not running our heads right into the lion's mouth; but the colonel knows
best, and we've only got to obey orders."
Certainly that seemed to be the safest course to pursue--a bold one; so
in this spirit, and as if the colonel felt that there was nothing
whatever to be feared from the people, the mules and packages were
brought up. A snugly-sheltered spot was selected, close to a spring
which came gushing from the rock, and a fresh camp made; the party going
and coming among the cinchona gatherers as if they were invited
visitors; while the Indians themselves looked puzzled, and watched every
action from a distance.
That night, beside the fire, surrounded by the dense growth of the
life-preserving trees he had sought, the colonel became more
communicative.
"You boys have, I daresay, canvassed why I undertook this expedition,"
he said, "and, I suppose, took it for granted that I came in search of
the gold supposed to be hidden by the Peruvians, to save it from the
rapacity of the Spaniards."
"Yes, sir; that's what I thought," said Cyril.
"Or else to find one of the di'mond walleys," growled John Manning.
"This is not the right direction for them, my man," said the colonel,
smiling. "You have to seek for them between the leaves of books. No,
boys; I came to seek something of far greater value to my
fellow-creatures than a buried store of yellow metal, which may or may
not exist. It is possible that a number of the sacred vessels from some
of the old temples may have been hidden by the priests, who, at their
death, handed down the secret to their successors; but I think it is far
more likely to be a fable. Still, the Indians believe in it, and if
they knew that a discovery had been made, they would destroy the lives
of the finders, sooner than that the gold should be taken out of the
country."
"Then you have not come to find the gold, sir?" said Cyril; while Perry
lay there upon his chest, resting his chin upon his hands, and elbows on
the earth, gazing up in his father's face.
"No, boy; I have come, and I am running some risks, I know, to drag out
into the light of day the wondrous medicine which has saved the lives of
hundreds of thousands, and made it possible for men to exist in the
fever-haunted countries spread around the globe."
"You mean quinine," said Cyril. "Father always keeps a bottle in his
desk."
"Yes, I mean quinine, the beautiful crystals obtained from the bark of
these trees, boy; the medicine kept so jealously guarded here, the only
place where it is produced, high up on the eastern slope of these
mountains. I have come to seek it, and have found it far more easily
than I expected: we are sitting and lying here right in the middle of
one of the cinchona groves."
"But we can't take away much, father, even if they will let us," said
Perry.
"Wrong, boy. I hope that we shall be able to bear away, unseen, enough
to stock the world, and to make the drug, which is a blessing to
humanity, plentiful, instead of civilised Europe having to depend upon
the supply from here--from this carefully-guarded place."
"You mean to take away some young trees," said Cyril excitedly.
"I should like to do so, but that is a doubtful way, my boy. The young
trees would be awkward to carry, and transplanting trees often means
killing them. We must try something better than that, though. I shall
see what I can do in making one bundle, with the roots carefully bound
up in damp moss."
"Yes, we might do that," assented Cyril, "but we didn't bring a spade."
"Let us find some tiny trees, and we'll do without a spade," said the
colonel quietly. "But I am in this position, boys. I know very little
about the trees we see around us. That they are the right ones there
can be no doubt, for the Indians are camped here, cutting them down, and
peeling off and drying the bark. There are several kinds which produce
inferior kinds of quinine; but these laurel-like evergreen trees produce
the true, the best Peruvian bark; and it is to take away the means of
propagating these trees in suitable hot mountainous colonies of our own,
that we are here. Now, how is it to be done?"
"Indians won't let it be done, sir," said Manning. "Here, I know lots
o' places up Simla way where it would grow fine. Up there, north o'
Calcutta, sir."
"Yes; there are spots there where it might be grown, or in the mountains
of Ceylon," said the colonel; "but we have to get it there."
"I know," said Cyril. "Let's get heaps of seed. Why, we might till our
pockets that way."
"Yes; that is my great hope, boys; so, whenever you see seed-pods or
berries nearly ripe, secure them. But we are surrounded by
difficulties. We may be here at the wrong time of year, though I
calculated that as well as I could; and now that we are here, I have
been terribly disappointed, for so far, instead of seeing seed, I have
noted nothing but the blossoms. It is as if we are too early, though I
hope these are only a second crop of flowers, and that we may find seed
after all."
"But these sweet-smelling flowers, something like small lilac, are not
the blossoms of the trees, are they?" said Perry.
"Yes, those are they," said the colonel. "Now my secret is out, and you
know what we have to do.--Well, Manning, what is it?"
"My old father had a garden, sir, and he used to grow little shrubs by
cutting up roots in little bits, which were often dry as a bone when he
put them in, but they used to grow."
"Yes," said the colonel. "Quite right; and now we are here, in spite of
all opposition, we must take away with us seeds, cuttings of twigs, and
roots, and if possible, and we can find them, a number of the tiny
seedlings which spring up beneath the old trees from the scattered seed.
There, that is our work, and all must help.--Do you hear, Manning?"
"Oh yes, sir, I hear, and if you show me exactly what you want, I'll do
my best; but, begging your pardon, sir, ain't it taking a deal o'
trouble for very small gains?"
"No, my man, the reward will be incalculable."
"All right, sir, you know best. I'll do what you tell me, and when
we've got what we want, I'll fight for it. That's more in my way. But,
begging your pardon once more, wouldn't it be better for you to go to
the head-man, and say, through Master Cyril here: `Look here, young
fellow, we've come a long journey to get some seed and young plants of
this stuff; can't you make a sort of trade of it, and sell us a few
pen'orth civilly.'"
The colonel laughed.
"No. They will not let us take a seed out of the country if they can
prevent it. I will tell you all the worst at once. They will make a
bold effort to master the dread with which I have succeeded in inspiring
them, and fight desperately to stop us when we get our little store."
"Then, begging your pardon again, colonel, wouldn't it ha' been better
to have come with a couple of companies of foot, and marched up with
fixed bayonets, and told him that you didn't mean to stand any nonsense,
but were going to take as much seed as you liked?"
"Invited the rulers of the country to send a little army after us?"
"Yes, of course, sir; but they've got no soldiers out here as could face
British Grenadiers."
The colonel was ready to listen to every opinion that night, and he
replied quietly:
"I thought it all out before I started, and this was the only way--to
come up into the mountains as simple travellers, reach the hot slopes
and valley regions where the cinchona grows, and then trust to our good
fortune to get a good supply of the seed. But, even now, from our start
from San Geronimo we have been watched. You have noticed it too, boys.
Even the guide we took has arrayed himself against us from the first,
and, while seeming to obey my orders, has taken care to communicate with
every one we passed that he was suspicious of my motives. Every mile we
have come through the mountain-range has been noted, and will be noted,
till we get back."
"Why not go back, then, some other way, sir?"
"Because we cannot cross the mountains where we please. The road we
followed is one which, no doubt, dates from the days when the Incas
ruled, and there are others here and there at intervals, but they will
be of no use to us. Somehow or other, we must go back by the way we
came, and I hope to take at least one mule-load with us to get safely to
England. There, that is enough for to-night. Now for a good rest and
we shall see what to-morrow brings forth. Cyril and Perry, you will be
on sentry till as near midnight as you can guess, and then rouse me.
I'm going now to take a look round at the mules, and then I shall lie
down."
He rose and walked away to where the mules were cropping the grass,
which grew abundantly in the open places, and as soon as he was out of
hearing, John Manning began to growl.
"All right, young gentlemen," he said, "I'm ready for anything; but, of
all the wild scarum-harum games I was ever in, this is about the
wildest. Come up here to steal stuff! for that's what it is, and you
can't call it anything else. I've know'd people steal every mortal
thing nearly, from a horse down to a pocket-knife. I've been where the
niggers tickled you when you was asleep and made you roll over, so that
they could steal the blanket you lay upon. I've seen the crows in Indy
steal the food out of the dogs' mouths; but this beats everything."
"Why?" said Perry shortly.
"Why, sir? Because physic's a thing as everybody's willing enough to
give to someone else; I didn't think it was a thing as anybody would
ever dream o' stealing. As you may say, it's a thing as couldn't be
stole."
"Father knows what he is about," said Perry shortly.
"Course he does, sir. Nobody denies that. We've got to begin taking
physic with a vengeance. All right: I'm ready. And I was thinking all
the time as we should bring back those four-legged jackasses loaded with
gold and precious stones. All right, gentlemen. As I said before, I'm
ready; and it's a good beginning for me, for I shall get a long night's
rest; so here goes."
He rolled himself in his blanket, then lay down with his feet near the
fire, and began to breathe the heavy breath of a sleeper the next
minute.
"Well, Cil," said Perry, "what do you think of it?"
"Don't know," said Cyril. "Yes, I do. They're wonderfully watchful
over the bark, and as soon as they know what we are after, they'll stop
us."
"Then we must not let them see what we are after, my lad," said the
colonel, who had returned unseen. "We must collect plants and flowers
of all kinds, and load a couple of the mules. That will help to disarm
suspicion.--Pieces loaded?"
"Yes, sir."
"That's right. We must keep military watch now regularly; but there
will be nothing to fear to-night."
CHAPTER FOURTEEN.
THE NIGHT-WATCH.
Those were very encouraging words, and they seemed to tingle in the
boys' ears as the colonel followed his servant's example, rolled a
blanket about his shoulders, and lay down with his head resting on one
of the mules' loads; but the impression soon died away, leaving the lads
close together, with their guns resting on the grass, listening in the
deep silence of the starlit night, and for some time without speaking a
word.
"Come a little farther away," whispered Perry at last. "I want to
talk."
They moved a few yards away from the sleepers, and stopped beneath a
great spreading tree at about equal distance from the colonel and the
fire, which glowed faintly, but gave sufficient light for them to see
Diego and the other Indian squatted down, making tents of their long
garments, and with their chins bent down upon their breasts; but whether
asleep, or waking and watchful, it was impossible to say.
"Well?" said Perry at last, after they had been straining their ears to
catch different sounds, now the trickling murmur of falling water, now
some strange cry from far away in the woods, or the whisper of a breeze
which came down from the mountains to pass away among the trees.
"Well?" said Cyril.
"Isn't it awfully quiet?"
"Yes."
"Look over there, just to the left of the fire. Isn't that some one
watching us?"
"Tree trunk," said Cyril laconically.
There was a pause, and then Perry whispered again.
"I say, I don't want to be cowardly, but there's some one coming slowly
through the trees. I caught a glimpse of his back. He's stooping
down--there, between those two big trunks, where it's open. Don't you
see--stooping?"
"Yes, I see, and nibbling the grass as he comes. One of the mules."
Perry shaded his eyes--needlessly, for there was no glare to shut out--
and he soon convinced himself that his companion was right.
But he felt annoyed, and said testily:
"I wish you wouldn't be so ready to contradict everything I say."
Cyril laughed softly.
"Why, you didn't want it to be an enemy, did you?"
Perry made no reply, and they stood for some time together in silence,
listening to the _crop, crop_ sound made by the mules, and the
whispering sighs of the wind, which came down sharp and chill from the
mountains. At last Cyril spoke again.
"Let's walk round the camp."
"You can't for the trees."
"Oh yes, we can. It's cold standing here. We'll work in and out of the
trees, and make a regular path round. It will be better than standing
still."
"Very well," said Perry shortly. "Go on first."
Cyril shouldered his piece and stepped off cautiously for a couple of
dozen yards, and then struck off to the left, meaning to make the fire
act as a centre round which they could walk, keeping guard and
themselves warm; but before he had gone many steps he stopped short.
"Look here," he whispered, "you are a soldier's son, and ought to teach
me what to do in keeping guard."
"There's nothing to teach," said Perry. "All you've got to do is to
keep a sharp lookout."
"Yes, there is. If we keep together like this, we leave a lot of the
camp exposed. What we ought to do is for one to go one way, and one the
other; then meet, cross, and go on again. It would be far better."
"But then we should be alone so long. We had better keep together."
"Very well," said Cyril shortly; but he owned to himself that he felt
better satisfied, for it was lonely, depressing work there in the
darkness.
Cyril stepped forward again, going slowly and carefully through the
thick growth, making as little noise as possible, and trying to keep as
nearly as possible to the same distance from the fire--no easy task, by
the way--but he had not gone far before he stopped short and started
aside, bringing his gun down to the present. For, all at once, from out
of the darkness, some one seemed to strike at him, the blow cutting
through the twigs and leaves by which he was surrounded with a loud
whistling noise, while the stroke was so near, that he felt the air move
close to his face.
"Fire--fire!" whispered Perry excitedly.
"What at? I can't see any one," replied Cyril, as he stood with his
finger on the trigger.
He felt his heart beat with a heavy throb, and his hands grew moist, as
he tried hard to pierce the darkness, and fix his eyes upon the enemy
who had made so cowardly a blow at him; but the thick branches shut out
every ray of light, and the silence was now painful in the extreme. The
position was the more startling from the fact that neither could tell
from which side the next blow would come.
But still that blow did not fall, and it seemed to Cyril, as he stood
there holding his breath, that the Indian who had struck at him so
treacherously was waiting until he moved, so as to make sure before
striking again. At last the painful tension came to an end, for
suddenly, from just in front, there was a heavy sigh, and _crop, crop,
crop_, followed by a burst of laughter from the boy.
"Oh, I say, Perry," he cried, "what a game! Fancy being scared like
that by a mule."
"Then it was one of the mules?"
"Of course; we frightened the poor thing, and it kicked out at us. Come
along."
He bore off a little to one side, and they passed the browsing animal,
and, though describing rather an irregular circle, made their way round
the fire, getting back pretty exactly to the place from which they
started.
This was repeated several times, and then, for a change, Cyril proposed
that they should strike off a little, straight away from the camp.
Perry was willing, and they put their plan in operation, for no special
reason other than that of seeing the ground was clear in different
directions, and to relieve the monotony of the watch.
"You lead now," said Cyril, in a low voice, so as not to disturb the
others, who, in thorough confidence that a good watch would be kept, and
that there was no fear of any danger, were sound asleep.
Perry led on, finding the way more open a short distance from the camp,
but he had not led thirty yards when he stopped short.
"Hallo! another mule?" said Cyril.
"Indian!" said Perry huskily; and, as Cyril pressed forward to his
companion's side, there, hard to define, but plain at last, stood one of
the Indians, who raised his arm and pointed back, uttering two or three
words in a guttural tone.
"What does he say?"
"That we must go back to the fire. Perhaps we had better," said Cyril.
"I don't like his being there, though. Look here," he said quickly;
"let's make haste back, and go right out the other way."
"What for?" said Perry, following his companion.
"I'll tell you directly."
Five minutes later they were checked just on the other side by another
Indian who started up right in their path.
"Come and warn my father," said Perry excitedly. "They're going to
attack us."
"No; I think not," replied Cyril decisively. "They're sentries. Come
and try another way."
He led off again, after they had returned to the fire, finding that they
were not followed, and that all was still; and again they were stopped
by an Indian starting up and ordering them back.
"That's it," said Cyril quietly; "they've surrounded us with sentries."
"To attack us?"
"No; to see that we don't escape; and while we were walking round and
round, they were within a few yards of us, listening to all our
movements."
"But they couldn't have been there then, or they would have started up
as they did just now."
"No; we weren't doing anything they minded; but as soon as we tried to
go straight away, they stopped us. Let's try once more."
He led off quickly again, with the same result; and then Perry turned
back to where his father lay asleep.
"What are you going to do?" whispered Cyril.
"Wake up my father, of course. We are attacked."
"Don't do that," said Cyril decisively. "We are not attacked, or they
would have seized us at once. I'm sure they are only guarding us, to
make sure that we don't try to escape. It's of no use to wake him till
the proper time."
Perry hesitated.
"But we are in danger."
"No; I don't think we are. They are watching us, but they don't mean to
attack us, or they would do so. You'll see now. We've come among them,
and they'll keep us under their eye, and perhaps will not let us go
again. Look here: let's go and speak to Diego."
Perry was easily led, and yielding to his companion's decisive manner,
he followed to the fire and then round to the other side, where the
Indian guide and his companion were squatted down with their chins
resting upon their chests.