Treasure of Kings

But, for the present, we are more concerned with Cahazaxa, a hero no less than these doughty Spaniards. He and his followers hid themselves in the wilderness, and there both Orellano and Pizarro himself failed to find them; and in this there is little to wonder at, when we consider the immensity of the great Forest of the Amazon.

They built for themselves a massive temple after the fashion of the sacred palaces of Quito and Cuzco, dedicated to the Sun; and in course of time they constructed roads and bridges across the rivers, founding for themselves a colony where the civilisation of the incas lived for a century or more after their own country across the mountains had fallen under the dominion of the hated Spaniard.

This was the land of the Gilded King, the country of El Dorado. Word of its existence came to Quito, from the lips of savage aborigines prone naturally to exaggeration; but, though party after party of avaricious, bold adventurers crossed the mountains, the Peruvian settlement remained undisturbed. The secret of the "Big Fish" was never discovered either by the Spaniards or the Portuguese, who in the next century came up the great river from the east, traversing the country that is now called Brazil.

I did not learn all this from the inca priest himself; but so much of it as he could not tell me I knew already from what I had read of those golden days when the New World was a land of Mystery and Romance, and men thought and talked of doubloons instead of dollars.

It is true, I never beheld with my own eyes the actual civilisation of ancient Peru as it had existed in Cahazaxa's time, because, many years before, it had died a natural death. The Peruvians, born and bred upon the western sea-board or the great tablelands beyond the Andes, were not able to survive in the humid atmosphere of the tropic forest. In course of time, a colony of several thousands, whom Cahazaxa had led across the mountains, had dwindled to a community of a few families of the old inca stock, the majority of whom served as priests of the Sun in the great ruined temple, constructed by their forefathers, which they were not able to keep in repair.

It was these men, descended in a direct line from the incas whom the Spanish conquerors had driven forth from Cuzco and Quito, who guarded the secret of the Greater Treasure. It was they who were treacherously attacked and foully done to death by Amos Baverstock. And I will now relate the full story of that brutal enterprise as I got it from the lips of the man whom I befriended.

Baverstock, with his three companions, had come to the temple some weeks before, on the day they had tied me to the tree and left me to starve to death.

The priests had been greatly alarmed at the sight of the intruder, whom they recognised at once. They remembered the time when Baverstock and Trust had attacked the temple, and they had been obliged to fight for their lives, and would then and there have been slaughtered, had it not been for John Bannister, who placed himself at their head and drove Amos forth.

But Bannister was no longer with them to fortify them with his courage, to preside at their councils, and to deal death to their enemies with his swift, unerring aim. And they were terrified at the very sight of Amos, as I myself had been when I first set eyes on the man upon the Sussex shore.

He demanded to know where the Greater Treasure was hidden. He reminded them that they had lied to him once, and held forth threats that made their blood run cold. If they lied to him again, he would return, and no man of them would live to fool Amos Baverstock a third time.

Now, they dared not speak the truth, for they were sworn to secrecy before the Sun, which they believed to be the Creator of the Universe; and yet, they dared not lie, for they knew Amos would be as good, or as evil, as his word.

So, swearing upon all things they looked upon as holy, they set Amos and his friends upon the right road to the "Big Fish." They told him to follow a certain track across the grassland, until he came to a range of down-like, grass-clad hills. Thence, to the west, lay a wood in mid-valley, and in a glade in this wood the Treasure was buried, the place being marked by a great red stone, standing forth in the form of a monster fish in the act of leaping from the water. Here, clearly, was the origin of the legend, current among the natives even to this day, of the Big and Little Fishes. And when I heard the story as it was told me by the inca priest, I confess I was conscious that my heart beat more rapidly and the warm blood of my youth was stirred within me.

But Amos Baverstock cared nothing for legend. He lived only to lay hands upon a horde of untold gold; and that same day he left the Temple of Cahazaxa and set forth to the west upon his treasure hunt.

And when he was gone, the priests held conference, demanding of Atupo why he had told their enemy so much of their cherished secret-for Atupo was the name of the surviving priest with whom I talked among the temple ruins. For he it was who devised the scheme whereby he hoped both to save the lives of his friends and to preserve the Greater Treasure; and now that all had failed so dreadfully, to the great pain he suffered from his wound was added anguish and remorse, inasmuch as the blame was his.

He advised them to arm themselves, and took with him ten of the best archers of the little community, ordering them to steep the heads of their arrows in the juice of the venomous weed that grows in the forest-which is nothing more or less than strychnine, one of the most virulent of poisons.

Atupo, with these ten men, who were all young and fleet of foot, traversed the grassland by a series of forced marches by night, so that they outdistanced Amos and reached first the Wood of the Red Fish-for so, with a little latitude, may be translated the old Peruvian name. And there they laid an ambush by a pathway along which Amos, and those with him, would be obliged to pass, and each archer was instructed to pick out his man. Four were detailed to shoot at Amos, three at Trust, and two each at Forsyth and the Spaniard, Vasco.

Now, it seems not possible that a plan so well thought out could fail; and yet, it would seem also that here, at least, the devil helped his own.

For Mr. Forsyth, and not Amos, came first to the ambuscade; and of the two arrows, one struck a silver tobacco tin that he chanced to be carrying that day in the pocket over his heart, and the other sheared off his right ear as cleanly as a tailor snips his cloth with a pair of scissors. And in the fraction of a second, Forsyth, all bleeding from the head, had his revolver from its holster, and had shot down two of the priests.

Thus was the alarm given to Amos and those who followed him; and there was no question of a surprise. It came to a hand-to-hand affair, and then a running fight amid the woodland undergrowth, in which the bow and arrow had but a small chance against modern firearms. One by one, the priests were dropped in their tracks, and only Atupo himself escaped with life, though sorely wounded in the leg.

He got clear of the wood, and lay hidden, day after day, in the long grass of the plain, journeying by night towards the forest, endeavouring to reach the ruined Temple of Cahazaxa. Though his leg was not then broken, he could do no more than crawl a few miles at a time, so that he was long weeks upon the road.

And during all these days, Amos beat the wood from west to east, from south to north, and failing to find the "Red Fish," believed that he had again been sent upon a wild-goose chase; and the more firm was he in this conviction since there had been such treachery on the part of the inca priests.

I heard afterwards that his wrath was like that of a madman; he stamped and raved, and swore that he would return to the temple and put every living soul to death. And yet, they could not move a yard upon their backward journey, until Forsyth's life was out of danger.

Without doubt, Mr. Gilbert Forsyth would have died in torture, there amid the foothills of the distant Andes, had it not been for his own promptitude and courage. For no sooner did he feel the poison working inward from the wound where the arrow had cut off an ear, than he thrust the blade of a hunting-knife into a glowing charcoal camp-fire, and himself placed the red-hot steel upon the lacerated flesh.

And though he fainted at the time, and fell afterwards into a raging fever, this action saved, perhaps, his life. In the wilderness, rough-and-ready methods are often unavoidable; only he who is bold and strong can survive, whilst the weakling falls by the way. That Forsyth, despite his affectations and his London ways, was a man of action who could face pain as well as danger, this deed of his was in itself enough to prove. With his own hand he burned the poison from his flesh.

For all that, he lingered for many days betwixt life and death; and it was the delay caused thereby that gave Atupo time to regain the temple.

He had intended to give warning to his brother priests, and for this purpose he arrived none too soon. Many were so alarmed at the news of the disaster that they departed instantly, seeking shelter in the forest and taking with them their wives and families. But three remained, to collect the sacred lamps and vessels that were within the Temple, meaning to set forth the following day. And these were caught at midnight by Amos, who turned assassin then and there; for it was he who killed them with his own hands, in the great vault beneath the ruins.

Atupo, too, he shot, though the man lay wounded on the ground, exhausted after the effort of his long journey across the grassland, and left him there for dead, his already wounded leg fractured a few inches below the hip.

All this I learned from the man himself, while I nursed him under the Temple-all save the story of the fortitude of Mr. Forsyth, of which I heard afterwards, as in due time I will tell.

CHAPTER XIV-THE GLADE OF SILENT DEATH

When I had heard the story of Atupo, it seemed to me that I knew all there was to know concerning the "Big Fish." And a feeling of restlessness at once possessed me; I desired to be up and doing, to venture myself across the grassland, to find the Wood of the Red Fish, for which the bold Spaniards of a bygone century had searched so often and in vain.

But I stood in the debt of charity and honour, and in consequence I felt for all the world like a kennelled dog that tugs barking on his chain. For some weeks, at least, I must stay by the side of the wounded man, whom I could now call my friend. And if those days were something idle, we were by no means out of danger; for any day Amos Baverstock might return when, of a certainty, it would go ill with Atupo and myself.

I found ample time throughout this period of my adventuring to explore the neighbourhood of the Temple, and many things I found of the greatest interest. About a mile distant from the ruins was the village where the Peruvians had lived, and here also was a great convent built of stone and thatched with straw, after the fashion of the palaces in ancient Quito. In this convent-so Atupo told me-had dwelt some score of nuns, vestal virgins, whose lives were dedicated to the Sun, just as there had been such maidens in the service of Jupiter and Mars in the great temples of Rome; for in many respects did the ancient Peruvians resemble the Romans: they were great builders of roads, bridges, and forts; every man must serve the state; and the Inca, on returning from his victories, would march in public triumph through the chief city of the land.

I found both the village and the convent quite deserted; for-as I have said-on hearing of the approach of Amos and his friends, the Peruvians had fled into the forest, preferring to run the risk of death at the hands of the wild men with their poisoned arrows, or from starvation in the midst of that unending wilderness, to finding themselves once again face to face with that implacable and murderous villain who had sworn to put them all-woman, man, and child-relentlessly to death.

I learned afterwards that few of these poor fugitives survived; for Amos burned their homes to the ground and left not one stone upon another; and this he did in wrath and malice, since it served him no better purpose than to waste his time, and that at a moment when his fate was jeopardised and he himself stood betwixt life and death.

When I saw the convent and the village, the place was just as the inhabitants had left it; and in such haste had they departed that I even found cooking-pots containing stews, all cold and jellified, standing in the ashes of burnt-out fires. The only sign of life to be seen was a number of llamas, long-necked Peruvian sheep, grazing in the shadow of the convent walls.

And now I am arrived at that part of my story when I came within an ace of losing life itself, and was only delivered at the eleventh hour by what was little short of the miraculous. For, in course of time, Atupo was healed of his wound, and well able, with the help of a staff, to hobble about the temple. It was then that I told him of my plans, of how I longed to journey to the Wood of the Red Fish, if for nothing else than to gaze upon the treasure of the Incas.

He listened patiently to all I had to say, and then sighed deeply.

"As you will," said he. "Of what use now is all this gold? My brother priests are slain, my people are scattered broadcast; the children of Cahazaxa are no more. Find your way, if you will, to the 'Big Fish.' I have told you where it lies. Feast your eyes upon the wealth that was once the glory of Peru. The race of the Incas is ended; the blood of kings is cold; even our gods are dead."

I knew that he referred to certain images in the Temple which Amos had wantonly destroyed; and I was sorry for the man.

"You will come with me?" I asked.

But he shook his head.

"That is not possible," he answered. "And even were it so, there would be naught to gain. I am already too greatly in your debt, and were I to accompany you, I should be a hindrance and a danger."

I could not deny the truth of this, though I was loth to leave him, weak and crippled as he was. And yet, it was manifest that we could not remain for an indefinite time within the Temple: sooner or later, our provisions would run out, and, any day, Amos might return.

"Where will you go?" I asked.

He pointed towards the forest.

"Thither," said he; and there was a certain nobility in his manner when he added, "to find my own people; for find them I will, in this world or beyond the grave. Death holds no fears for the sons of Cahazaxa."

And so, some days afterwards, we parted: he, to the east, to the dark, spreading forest; I, to the west, across the grassland, upon my treasure quest, to search for the Wood of the Ked Fish and the lost Treasure of Kings.

I set forth upon my great adventure all naked like a savage, save for a loin-cloth of woven hair that Atupo, the priest, had given me. I was armed with my long Indian blow-pipe and a quiverful of darts. And I went into that strange, romantic land alone, without guide, compass or companion, never knowing at night-time, when I lay down to sleep, what calamity or fortune the morrow held in store for me. And this, I stand convinced even to this day, when my hairs are white and shoulders bowed, is the only way to live and to die.

For three days I traversed a great plain of rolling, down-like country, that reminded me somewhat of my own dear Sussex, save that the grass was coarse and longer. Some miles before me was a high ridge that stood forth at sunset like a battlement across the sky; and I knew that I must gain the crest of this before I could find the Wood of the Red Fish.

Presently, however, I found my progress impeded by a river that had worked its way throughout the centuries deep into the rock, so that it flowed between almost perpendicular cliffs.

I could neither see nor devise any manner of crossing. I sat down upon the edge of the cañon and ate some of the manioc I had brought with me from the temple. I remembered that both Amos and Atupo had somehow crossed the river; and this thought was not a little encouraging. Across the grassland I had followed no track or pathway, so that when I had found a means of crossing the cañon, I must know that I was once again upon the right road to the wood that I was seeking.

That night, in full moonshine, I worked up-stream for many miles upon the left bank of the ravine. I slept for a few hours, and at daybreak continued my journey, and a little after, came quite suddenly upon one of the most wondrous things that I have ever seen.

For there before me was a great and magnificent suspension bridge, spanning the width of the ravine-a distance, I should say, of thirty or forty yards. The cables of this bridge were made of the twisted fibre of maguey, a kind of osier, and were at least three feet in diameter. It was hard to realise that the whole structure stood there more or less as it had been erected, centuries before; but it seemed to me an even more wonderful thing that, in the midst of such a desolate and barren region, I should so suddenly have come across evidence of the greatest skill in engineering. I could scarce believe that I had passed through an almost impenetrable tropical forest to traverse a ravine as easily as I might have walked along the familiar dyke from Sidlesham to Pagham.

The bridge itself was no more than a footbridge, but it served its purpose well enough; and, crossing over, I hit almost at once upon a pathway through the grass. This I lost at nightfall, but I continued on my way in the moonlight, working upward upon a slope that rapidly became steeper.

In the small hours of the morning, sheer fatigue brought me to a halt by the side of a spring of clear water, bubbling forth from the earth. And here I drank and ate, breathing deeply of the cool fresh air of the uplands, which was like strong wine to me after the humid atmosphere of the forest; so that I slumbered as I had not slept for months, since I had left my home in Sussex, nor did I awaken until the morning sun was high.

I saw that I had but a little way to go to reach the crestline of the hills-an hour's climb would do it; and I set forward gleefully, in high anticipation, wondering what lay beyond the watershed, and whether I would sight the Wood of the Red Fish, but little dreaming what would there befall me.

I reached the summit hot and out of breath; and then I stood stock still, breathless in wonderment and all amazed.

I cast not one glance towards the wide valley at my feet. I stood staring before me, like one dumbfounded, at the gorgeous panorama I beheld. For yonder, more than a hundred miles away, but clear in the morning sun at the back of me, stood the mighty and majestic Andes. Snow-crowned they were, rugged as a wild sea, and yet bold and still and massive as the thrones of gods. And I, who had never seen such mountains in my life, was awed and wonder-struck; and I realised, I am sure, the glory of the works of God.

I gazed-it may have been, for an hour, sitting cross-legged, naked as the wild men of the woods, with my blow-pipe on my knees-at that great range of mountains that spans near half the world, extending almost from pole to pole. And then I looked down into the valley, and the thought that I was now within a day's march of my goal banished from my mind all loftier thoughts, and I found myself wondering whether it was I who was to find, at last, the lost land of El Dorado.

For the valley was cut up into marshland, plains and hillocks, in and out of which a river wandered, now and again to open out into a lake or swamp, in which there were little tree-clad islands. But to the north was a wood, diamond-shaped, flanked to the east by a spur of the hills, and to the west by a morass where I could see the water glittering in the sunlight.

On the foothills across the valley was a considerable forest, extending as far as the eye could reach; but I could not doubt that the wood in mid-valley, to the right of me, being so like the description which Atupo, the priest, had given me, was the Wood of the Red Fish.

And then and there I set forward running, for I was young and hot-headed, and had not yet learned that time is but the slave of man, and that patience and caution are of more worth than eager haste.

So I came, that evening, hot and thirsty to the wood, and then, in the darkness of the trees, whilst the sun was setting, I stood like a fool, irresolute and wearied, not knowing what next that I should do.

I was hungry as well, for I had eaten all the food I had carried with me from the temple, and saw now that I must trust to my blow-pipe for sustenance, and kill what came my way that might be fit to eat. Fortunately, during my sojourn with the wild men, I had learned something of Indian woodcraft; and setting about my business without further loss of time, I searched at random in the wood until I found a glade where there was a pool of water, and here I crouched under cover, lying motionless, with my blow-pipe ready for whatsoever animal might come down to the pool to drink whilst the evening light still lasted.

This place-though I then knew it not-was the Glade of Silent Death; and I have given it that name for a certain reason, which was in very truth a tragedy.

There came, as I waited, to the woodland pool a small kind of deer; and he waded knee-deep into the water that he might drink. As he did so, I thought that I perceived some movement on the surface, as it might have been a rat swimming swiftly a distance of a few yards. I took no heed of it at the time, my attention being taken up with my blow-pipe, that I might strike the deer stone-dead, beneath the point of the left shoulder, placing my arrow deep in the poor beast's heart.

I was about to shoot, when suddenly he kicked, and then endeavoured with a jerk to throw himself backward on his haunches. To my astonishment I observed that he was held fast by the nose, which might have been gripped in a vice, and that in spite of all his efforts he was being dragged steadily and slowly deeper into the pool.

It was as if I were smitten by a cold rush of ice, when the truth was made quite plain to me. It was that half-light of evening, which is neither day nor night, when the early moon vies with the dying sunlight. And I saw the monster writhing coils of a great serpent rise dripping from the water and enfold the broken stump of a tree.

I knew now that the deer was doomed; and so illogical is human nature that I experienced two emotions: terror of the reptile and pity for the beast that but a moment since I myself would have gladly slain for food.

No doubt the anaconda stood in need of nourishment as much as I, and wanted more of it, to boot. But snakes were accursed things since Eden, and this vile, stealthy giant more so than most, because of his great bulk and strength. I know now that he was nearer thirty than twenty feet in length, and that his girth about the middle was greater than that of my own chest, though I was a strong lad for my years.

And now that he had lashed himself to the tree-stump, the deer was lost. Its head was already under water, so that in a few moments the animal must be drowned. It would then be crushed to a pulp in the powerful, band-like coils of the constrictor, covered all over with a loathsome saliva, to be swallowed slowly and gradually, and yet in bulk.

I could see the head of the snake, for the light was fading and the deer in its death struggle lashed the water into foam. But I could see the great glistening body of the reptile but a few yards away from me, and into the thickest part of this I drove one of the darts from my Indian blow-pipe, and as I did so, shuddered, more revolted than afraid.

The effect was instantaneous and surprising. My dart must have struck the snake in the region of the spinal cord, for the great length of the brute curled backward like the lash of a whip; and the deer, released from those murderous coils, scrambled from the water, panting and exhausted, with its red tongue hanging from its mouth.

And then the animal fell dead upon the ground, but a few feet from where I lay. I could feel my own heart beating within me like a sledge-hammer. For some minutes I gazed at the pool that rocked and swelled like a sea in miniature. There came ripples, one after the other, to the water's edge, where they lipped and splashed like little waves. And then, at last, all was still-still as glass in the moonlight. But I knew that the great snake was somewhere near me, and my sole desire was to escape from that dread, silent place, and that as quickly as I might. And yet, the primal instinct of mankind was strong within me, the love of life that is sustained by food; and as I drew back into the thickets of the underwoods, I dragged with me by the horns the lifeless body of the deer.