Put to the Test
Though he had no more to fear from this jaguar, Jack knew that its mate was likely to return at any moment, and as soon as he had recovered somewhat from the effect of the ordeal through which he had passed, he freed himself from the weight of the pony’s body.
He was glad to find that his limb had not received any serious injury, though it was so paralyzed from lying under the pressure that it was a few minutes before he could stand alone.
But he lost no more time than he could avoid before he left the place, feeling that his situation even then was not pleasant to contemplate. He was not only afoot in the heart of a trackless wilderness, but many miles from the nearest point of civilization.
Half an hour after leaving the scene of the jaguar’s attack, he made a discovery which caused him no little concern.
He had lost his compass.
Realizing the risk of returning to the fatal spot, as well as the uncertainty of finding the lost instrument, he kept on without it, endeavoring to pursue as direct a course as possible.
In this he was unsuccessful, and two days later he was wandering at random through the intricate labyrinths of a Peruvian forest, nearly worn out and disheartened.
Hoping that his shots might be heard by some one who would come to his rescue, he had fired all but the last load of ammunition he had with him, and that charge was in his carbine.
“I might as well discharge that,” he said to himself. “It is my last chance and I might as well take it now as later. It is useless for me to try to find my way out of this wilderness.”
In his desperation he cocked the weapon, and pointing it skyward pulled the trigger.
Loud and long rang out the report on the deep silence of the forest, the distant foothills taking up the sound and flinging it back to the valleys in echoes that repeated the detonation far and wide. As the last sullen sound died away in the distance he leaned against one of the trees, saying half aloud:
“I might as well meet the worst here as anywhere.”
Five, ten, fifteen minutes passed away, and satisfied that his last shot had been fired in vain, Jack started to resume his aimless wanderings, when the sound of footsteps fell upon his ears.
At first he thought it might be some wild beast prowling through the woods, but it was not long before a human figure burst into sight.
There was little of beauty in the youthful stranger who had thus unceremoniously appeared, but Jack had never been so glad to see any one in his life.
At sight of his woebegone countenance the newcomer came to a sudden halt in his impetuous advance, exclaiming in a voice with a peculiar and characteristic nasal twang:
“Consarn ye! who air yeou scrouched down there in that way? Aair yeou the feller who has been wasting ammunition so like a scart peon?”
The speaker’s tone was not unfriendly, and Jack was nearly overjoyed to find that the new-comer was not a Peruvian.
Springing from his seat on a fallen tree, where he had sunk in his respair, he cried in genuine gladness:
“You’re an American!”
“No more’n yeou air!” replied the other, brushing back his long blonde hair from his forehead as he spoke, and looking straight into our hero’s countenance with a pair of deep blue eyes.
Then, when the two had stared upon each other for fully a minute, both burst into a fit of laughter.
“Shoo neow!” exclaimed the Yankee boy, “who air yeou and what air yeou doing here?”
“I might ask the same question of you,” replied Jack. “My name is John North and I come from Banton, Connecticut.
“Bet yeou air called Jack every time. My name is Plummer Plucky, but I’m called Plum for short, though that is all they can make short about me. I hail from New England too, and I’ll bet my dad is hoeing taters in sight of Plymouth Rock.”
“I am lost in this wilderness,” went on Jack. “I hope you can show me the way out.”
“Bet your boots on that. I live, leastways stop, not three hours’ tramp from here, though if yeou had come to-morrer yeou wouldn’t found me here. I have been working on the estancia of Don de Estuaray, the dirtiest, meanest, miserliest, yellowest old Spaniard that ever drew the breath o’ this beautiful country.”
“Evidently you love the Don,” said Jack, with a smile.
“Do I? Do you know what he pays me fer work thet’s enought to kill a man?”
“I haven’t the slightest idea.”
“No more you have. He pays me three dollars and sixty cents a month--think of it--if you can!”
“That’s a small fortune” went on Jack. He rather liked the fellow before him. “I suppose you’ve got a pile saved up in the bank out of it.”
“Think so? Consarn ye, yer ain’t got no right to think so!” And now the other really looked somewhat angry.
“No, I don’t think so,” answered Jack, promptly. “I was only fooling. They don’t pay big wages down here--I’ve found that out--down near the coast, where I worked at starvation wages myself.”
“Wall, I aint jest starved,” said the other youth, somewhat mollified. “I git feed enough--leas’-wise, I take what I want. But it ain’t enough money--no it ain’t--nohow, consarn him anyway!”
Jack had too much at stake to desire a quarrel with his new-found acquaintance, so he hastened to say:
“I hope you will forgive me if I have said anything to offend. I trust we shall be friends.”
Whatever of anger Plum had shown quickly left his honest countenance, and frankly holding out a hand, he said:
“I never pick a quarrel with any one, but I won’t let any one tread on my toes. I reckon we shall be friends.”
The clasp of the hands which followed cemented the firmest friendship of Jack North’s life, an acquaintance which, notwithstanding its inauspicious beginning, was destined to ripen into a heart-felt intimacy.
The hand-shaking over, the twain, Plum leading the way, started in the direction whence the latter had come at the sound of Jack’s carbine. On the way toward the estancia where the former had been working, our hero learned the complete story of his past life; how he had left home to win a fortune and drifted over the world until he was now employed by this Don de Estuaray at the princely sum which had been the crumb of argument between them a few minutes before.
Jack in turn told the other his story, except that part bearing upon the island of treasure, and long before they had reached signs of civilization they had become fast friends.
So favorably impressed was Jack with the appearance of his new-found chum that he proposed that Plum should apply for the position of fireman on the St. Resa railroad, a proposition which met the other boy’s hearty approval the moment he learned the wages he was likely to get His first question was:
“Do yeou s’pose they will have me?”
“Gladly. It isn’t a question of that, but whether you have the sand to stand up in a spot where you are likely to lose your life any minute.”
“Reckon I can stand up where you can, and if I do lay down it will be to stay there. Give me your hand, old feller. I like yeou.”
They were now approaching the estancia of Don de Estuaray, who lived in a pleasant valley several miles from any settlement, and as they advanced Jack could not help noticing the tall growth of a patch of vegetation on their right hand, as they were entering the spacious grounds.
To his wonder he saw cotton plants that reached far above his head and sugar cane which stood like forest trees. Plum Plucky, standing on his shoulders, with Fret Offut, had he been living then and there, on his shoulders, could not have reached the top of the lowest plants!
He saw indigo plants that amazed him for their size, and altogether it was such a sight as he had never seen.
A short distance away he saw a field of oats which reared their heads into the air to a height of more than fifteen feet.
Plum Plucky seeing the look of surprise on his countenance, said:
“Can’t guess what made that stuff grow so? I can tell you. I just brought down some of that funny dirt found in the barren spots on the hills yonder and put a good lot round the roots. It beats all creation how it sends the stuff into the air. The don said I’d kill it all, but I knowed better, for I had seen the wild stuff growing like fun all round the edges of sich places. But it don’t seem to hitch on in the spots themselves. S’pect it’s too stout there.”
Jack at once recalled the accounts he had heard of the nitrate beds on the Peruvian hills, though he did not dream then of the importance of this discovery to him.
Our hero was anxious to get back to Resaca, knowing that his prolonged absence might have already cost him his situation as engineer on the railroad, and as Plum Plucky had fully decided to go with him, they lost no further time in starting for that place.
They found the railroad officials in a fever of excitement.
Believing that Jack had left them and finding no one to take his place, the bush-raiders having grown bolder in their depredations, in their despair, the managers were offering double their previous pay for a man who would dare to undertake the work of getting a train through from St. Resa to de la Pama.
Jack felt unbounded delight upon finding that the pay had been raised to over a hundred dollars a trip, and without any explanation he offered himself for the situation a second time.
He was gladly accepted, with no questions asked while Plum was given the position of fireman at a salary which caused him to look with amazement.
“Well!” he exclaimed, “it’s too good to last.”
“Wait till you meet the bush-raiders,” said Jack.
“I reckon I can take any medicine that you can,” was the answer, and the boy engineer realized that he had filled Fret Offut’s place with a companion of altogether different make-up.
Somewhat to their surprise three trips were made without any molestation from the outlaw band, when the young couple were put to a test few would have the courage to meet.
A party of Peruvian soldiers had been sent out to protect, as far as possible, the road, but upon this run Jack learned at a small station before coming to the stream where the bridge had been repaired, that this squad had been completely routed by the outlaws of the forest, and the victorious raiders were lying in wait for the train.
In this dangerous prospect every passenger left the cars at this place, but the order came for the train to go on if a suitable escort could be raised.
In twenty minutes as many armed men were waiting a start, though, as Jack looked over the motley party, he realized that not one of them would be worth a fig in a fight with the bush-raiders. Worse than that, he felt confident that the majority, if not all, were in league with the outlaws, and when the proper time came would openly join with them in trying to capture the train.
But the station agent, blind to this fact, priding himself upon having done his duty, pompously ordered Jack to proceed on his way.
As if not to be outdone, the conductor who remained with one brakeman, reiterated the command.
“It looks so we were in for it,” said Jack, as he took his post at the lever. “What do you say, Plum, have you the grit to try it?”
“I am with you, Jack, let come what may. See! I have got on a smashing head of steam.”
Without another word Jack pulled the bell-cord, and, throwing the valves wide open, sent the train thundering out of the station along the gleaming track into dangers which the bravest would not have cared to anticipate.