CHAPTER IX—SURPRISED IN THE FOREST
“I wonder where Dad is?”
For the twentieth time in the last hour, Jack, striding up and down in the little forest glade, high up in the mountains, where camp had been pitched the day before, came to a halt before Frank and Bob, out-sprawled and napping in their hammocks, and asked his question. They had reached this spot after weeks of travel from the monastery.
“Yes,” said Ferdinand, coming up, “and my father?”
He, too, had been doing a restless sentry-go to and fro, unable to remain quiet.
Three hours before, shortly after dawn, the two older men had left the camp in company with Carlos, to hunt small game. They had promised to return in a couple of hours.
“Oh, they’re just an hour or so overdue, Jack,” said Frank, putting aside a book of old Inca tales which he had been reading, and examining his watch. “I don’t think there is anything for you two to worry about. They’ll be back shortly.”
“Yes,” said Bob, comfortably, stretching and yawning, “they probably went a little farther than they expected to, that’s all.”
Jack shook his head.
“I haven’t heard the report of any firearms since they left,” he said. “I’m afraid they may have wandered too far afield, not finding any game close at hand, and in these great trackless forests they may easily have become lost.”
“What does Pedro say?” asked Frank.
With an exclamation, Ferdinand called to his retainer in Spanish, and the latter approached. There was a rapid interchange of conversation. Pedro shook his head in negation, and spread out his hands.
“No, Carlos has never been in these mountains.”
Ferdinand’s expression became worried. He shook his head, as he turned to the others.
“What shall we do?”
“We will have to start looking for them,” said Jack, determinedly. “They are lost. There is no doubt about it. But in these forests they may have swung about in a circle, and be near camp without realizing it. I’ll climb this great tree here in the clearing, and look around first. Then, if I cannot see them, four of us can set out to the four quarters of the compass, while the fifth remains in camp to fire off a gun at frequent intervals. That will serve to keep the searchers in touch with camp, and also will act as a guide to the others, in case they are within sound of the gun.”
Jack’s spirits had sunk low, despite his confident tone. He had a premonition of evil. The fact that no gun shots had been heard, led him to believe that the party at the very least had gone far astray. In that case, of what use for the searchers to stay within sound of a gun. The possibility of finding traces of a trail which could be followed, however, occurred to him. Without further words, he sprang into the tree and began clambering up the great trunk.
On the Chilian side, the mountains of the south are forest-clad and, because of the heavy rainfall on the west coast, there are numerous streams and lakes cutting them up. On the eastern or Argentinian slope, however, so little rain falls that the mountains are almost entirely bare of verdure.
The spot in which the party had pitched camp was a thickly-forested valley through which flowed a clear mountain stream. They had been unable, because of the density of the forest, to see much of their surroundings on arrival late the previous afternoon. In the morning, therefore, the two older men and Carlos had gone scouting as much as in search of game.
Before their departure, Mr. Hampton had called Jack to him.
“Undoubtedly, Jack,” he had said, “we are getting close to our destination. Somewhere in this region must lie the Enchanted City. Once let us find a valley containing one great lake and three smaller ones, as described by de Pereira, and we shall have the first of our definite landmarks. However, although we must be close to our destination, it has never been found yet so far as outsiders know, and we may not succeed, either.
“It is possible,” he had added, thoughtfully, “that some descendants of the old Incas may still reside in the Enchanted City, just barely possible. If so, I have sometimes thought, there may be a reasonable explanation for the failure of any reports of their city to reach the outside world. Few as are the men who push into these trackless forests and vast mountains, there yet must have been some who did so in the last two or three centuries. They may have been captured and either killed or imprisoned, in order to guard the secret of the city.”
Jack was thinking of these words of his father as he continued to climb higher and higher into the tree, and his heart sank. That premonition of evil which weighed him down! Did it mean, perhaps, that there really still did exist dwellers in the Enchanted City, and that his father’s party had been surprised and captured? He would not let himself believe they could have been killed, but resolutely set his face against the thought.
Arrived at a height beyond which, because of the thinning of the trunk, which already swayed under his weight, he did not dare to go, Jack at last found time to look about him. He hooked one arm about the trunk of the tree, twined his legs about it, and with his free hand fumbled at the case slung by a strap about his neck, which enclosed the field glasses.
Meantime, his gaze roved over the scene. Down-stream he could see the break in the mountains through which they had entered the valley. To either side, the tree-clad heights sloped up. But ahead——
An exclamation broke from him. It was that direction which his father had taken, following down the stream. Now he could see what had not been discernible from the ground, namely, that ahead the forest walls narrowed to a pass. And through this he could see the glint of sunshine upon water.
He set the glasses to his eyes and adjusted the focus. The water now resolved itself into what evidently was a considerable body, the ends of which he could not see. For a considerable time he gazed upon it, without discerning any signs of life or movement. Then, sweeping the hills, but without result, he descended.
“Look here, fellows,” he said, “that other plan of mine to strike out in four directions in the belief that, perhaps, the others became lost and wandered in a circle, is unnecessary. There is only one direction in which to look for them I am convinced, and that is directly ahead.”
Thereupon, he described what he had seen.
“You see, it isn’t likely that they would have wandered in a circle, because the sides of this valley are so close together that they would soon have been upon a slope, and have realized their predicament. Moreover, although the sky was gray and overcast when they set out, yet the sun since has dispersed the clouds.”
Investigation of his father’s effects earlier had shown Jack that he had set out without his pocket compass, probably feeling that the stream was sufficient guide. And it was this fact which had brought Jack’s anxiety to high pitch.
“Well, the best thing then is for us to go downstream, isn’t it?” asked Bob.
Jack nodded.
“One of us should stay in camp,” said he. “Which shall it be?”
Frank thought a moment.
“You and Ferdinand must go with the search party,” said he. “Both of you are worried about your fathers. Bob and Pedro and I will draw straws.”
Then Pedro unexpectedly objected.
“Master Ferdinand,” he said, in an anxious tone, plucking the other by the sleeve. “You know I am no coward. Yet I have the feeling all is not well. And I do not care to stay here alone.”
“Why, Pedro, nothing can happen to you,” said Ferdinand. “You will be in this clearing where nobody can approach unseen. And you will be armed.”
Pedro shrugged, but was silent.
“Have you seen anything to make you fear?” Ferdinand asked, gazing at him keenly.
Pedro’s voice was low.
“No,” said he. “Naught have I seen. But I feel it. Here.” And he placed a hand upon his breast. “There is some evil in these forests.”
“Here, here,” said Frank, interrupting. “This search must not be delayed. I’ll stay.”
“And I’ll stay with you,” said Bob. “Three’s enough for the search.”
Frank threw him a grateful look, knowing well that it was consideration for him which prompted his big chum’s proffer. Nevertheless, he started to protest, but Jack interrupted.
“Good idea,” he said. “Well, let’s go. If we get into any sort of trouble, we’ll fire three times in rapid succession. As for guide, if we follow the stream, we cannot go astray.”
He did not put it into words, but Pedro’s premonition of evil had effected him, coming as it did in confirmation of his own vague yet powerful fears. He wanted to plunge ahead without more delay. Therefore, with Ferdinand and Pedro at his heels, he set off rapidly down the stream.
As their friends disappeared, Frank, looking thoughtful, turned to his chum.
“Bob, I don’t know what to make of all this,” he said. “But I have a hunch it would not be a bad idea for us to keep some sort of watch, instead of merely dozing. So I’ll take the first watch for an hour, and then you can relieve me.”
“Suit yourself,” said Bob, indifferently. “I don’t see what’s the matter with all you fellows, though. Mr. Hampton and Ferdinand’s father couldn’t find any game close at hand, and kept on pushing farther ahead than they had expected to go. That’s all it is. Nothing to worry about.”
Despite his friend’s easy manner, however, Frank could not shake off the feeling of worry that possessed him. Most sensitive of all the boys, it was he who was accustomed to feel first of all the influence of evil close at hand. And, in fact, it had been so in the present case. But he had cloaked his feelings in order not to aggravate Jack’s worry regarding his father.
Now, while Bob lay on his back, his hands under his head, in the hammock, and talked in scattered sentences, Frank sat with his rifle across his knees, on a stool before the tent, with his bright eyes roving over the clearing, searching the trees and underbrush.
Suddenly he leaped to his feet and threw his rifle to his shoulder, while big Bob, startled into wakefulness by the abrupt movement, rolled out of his hammock to the ground.
Then out of the woods stepped a young man clad in a soft white tunic, belted with a golden girdle, wearing shoes of soft untanned leather that came almost to his knees, and having gold bracelets about his arms above the elbow, and anklets of gold about his legs.
“Forebear, Senor,” he commanded, in a rich yet imperious tone. “You are surrounded.”
Archaic though the Spanish was, Frank could understand. Especially, as, following with his gaze the wave of the other’s hand about the clearing, he saw step from the trees a ring of forms similarly clad.