Chapter Forty Three.
Tracked.
I was obliged to acknowledge that it was more than we could expect to reach the cavern without being discovered, and that we ought to be well content to have gained a haven of safety without loss or injury; but all the same my heart sank, and I had hard work to keep back the feeling of despair that, cold and deadening, came upon me.
The thoughts I have set down here flashed through my brain almost momentarily, but I was brought back to the necessity for action by a motion now made by Tom.
“Shall I, Mas’r Harry?” he said. And he covered the retreating Indian with his gun.
“No,” I said, arresting him. “It would only be more bloodshed, and would not prevent our being discovered.”
The next moment I thought that I was wrong, and that the destruction of that one foe might be our saving. But it was too late now; the Indian had disappeared.
I led the way farther in till the increasing darkness compelled a halt, and I said a few words of encouragement to the shuddering companions of our travel.
“Tom,” I then said—for the thought had that moment struck me—“we have no lights.”
Tom did not reply, but plunged into the darkness ahead; when, after a while, we could hear the clinking of flint and steel, followed, after a short interval, by a faint light, towards which one of Tom’s mules directly began to walk, closely followed by the rest.
“Is it safe to go on?” said my uncle.
“Quite,” I replied. “I don’t think any enemies would be here.”
I was divided in my opinions as to which way we should go. It was most probable that the Indians would be aware of the existence of the bird-chamber, but would they penetrate to it? I should much rather have made that our retreat; but at last I felt that I hardly dared, and that, if I wished for safety, we must take to the rift beyond the vault of the troubled waters, leaving the mules in the farthest corner by the arch of the tunnel.
Leading the way, then, they followed me right away into this land of gloom and shadow, my brain being actively employed the while as to our defence of our stronghold.
At last we reached the farthest chamber, below the rocky tongue which projected over the great gulf; and then, after securing the mules, with Tom’s help, and to the great astonishment of my uncle, I fitted together the little raft, placed upon it the store of provisions, and then secured it to a piece of rock, ready at any moment for us to embark and continue our retreat along the tunnel; for I had come to the conclusion that it would be better not to expose the women to the terrors of the water passage unless absolutely obliged.
Thus prepared for escape, I felt better satisfied; and after partaking of some refreshment, and urging Lilla and my aunt to try and obtain some rest upon the sandy floor, which was here clean and dry, I whispered to Tom to follow; and, this time in the dark, we began to thread our way towards the entrance.
When we had left them about fifty yards behind we turned to gaze back, to see only the faintest glimmer of the candle they had burning; while at the end of another minute there was nothing but black darkness, for the passage had narrowed and wound round a huge block of stone.
It was slow work, but I wanted to grow more familiar with the way; and at last, by persevering, we passed the vault where was the opening to the bird-chamber, and then pressed on till, nearing the entrance, we proceeded with more caution, for I was quite prepared to see a cluster of savages collected in the mouth of the great subterranean way.
The caution was needed, for upon proceeding far enough we could hear the buzz of voices, and a glance showed me Garcia and a full score of his dark-skinned followers.
In a few moments they crossed the rocky barrier and I could see that they were all armed with pine splints and preparing to light them. It was evident, too, that there was a feeling of awe existing amongst the party, many of the savages hanging back till, by fierce and threatening gestures, Garcia forced them farther in.
“He’s at the bottom of half the mischief, Mas’r Harry,” whispered Tom. “The Indians are after the gold, and he’s after Miss Lilla, so they’ve joined hand. Let me bring him down, Mas’r Harry; there’s a good chance now.”
My only reply was to lay my hand upon Tom’s arm, and then we watched till fire was obtained, the pine torches lit, and, half driven by Garcia, the Indians led the way towards where we crouched.
Compelled thus to retreat, we hurried back for some distance, our part being easy, for we had the black darkness, the knowledge of the way, and the excessively slow, timid advance of the enemy in our favour.
On came the Indians, with their flashing torches lighting up in a beautiful though weird way each passage and vault through which they passed, and still we retreated before them, wondering at their silence; for Garcia’s was the only voice heard beyond a whisper, and even his was subdued, as if the gloomy grandeur had some little influence upon his mind.
Twice over there was a halt, and we learned that the Indians were striving to return, till by violent threats and expostulations Garcia once more urged them on.
I did not wish to shed blood, otherwise we could have brought down enemy after enemy at our leisure, while I could not but think that the loss of one or two of the party would have produced a panic. There was still, though, this for a last resource; and I kept feeling hopeful that the party would return, or else take the way which led to the bird-chamber.
My latter surmises were correct, for, upon crossing the large vault, and gaining a good post of observation, we saw the Indians stop short and elevate their torches, pointing out the opening which led to the great guano-filled chasm, when Garcia placed six men there, evidently as sentinels, and collecting the rest, made a tour of the vault, and then pointed down the rift where Tom and I were hidden—the passage which led to the great gulf.
“No, no, no!” chorused the Indians, giving vent to their negative in a wild despairing fashion.
Then they all threw themselves upon their knees upon the rocky floor and began to crawl back.
Garcia raged and stormed, but it soon became evident that if he explored the passage where we were, it must be alone. Superstitious dread was evidently at the bottom of it all, and I breathed more freely as I felt that for the present, unless he could overcome his companions’ terror, we were safe.
The Indians seemed to be willing enough though to pursue the other route, for as soon as they went back to their six fellows they began pointing up at the dark passage and gesticulating, when, feeling probably that he must submit, Garcia changed the position of his sentinels, intending apparently to leave them to guard the passage where we were. But here again there was a new difficulty; when the men found that the others were to depart, they refused at once to be left alone, and at last, after striking one of them down, Garcia had to submit, and sprang up the rocks, torch in hand, followed by all but two, the stricken man and another, who hastily retreated towards the mouth of the cavern.