It happened that the shelter-tent had not been erected in a very secure manner the evening before, for all hands had been too tired and discouraged; they had used a very thin piece of wood for a centre-pole. Therefore the result of a wild rush under the canvas by Ferguson and Harvey, both anxious to tell the cheering news, was the collapse of the cloth structure, and in the entangling folds three men and a boy were soon struggling. To add to the confusion, Hope-Jones, who had been dreaming of the Majeronas, imagined an attack was on, and reaching out for the fancied opponent nearest him, he commenced pommelling Ferguson lustily. The elder American, who was so imprisoned by the canvas that he could not defend himself, might have been seriously injured had not Señor Cisneros rolled himself free, and dragged the bellicose Englishman away. He then freed the others, and as Harvey was still breathing heavily, after the wild dash through the woods, he drew the boy to him, believing he had been injured.
“No, I’m not hurt,” exclaimed the lad, panting. “Look, I have found the white rock over there in the woods! Here’s a piece that I chipped off,” and he exhibited the specimen of alabaster, to which he had held firmly.
Hope-Jones, who by this time had come to his senses, gave a yell of joy, and the captain, jumping to his feet, caught Harvey by the shoulders in an embrace, then urged him to relate the details of his exploration.
Of course there was no thought of attempting to sleep again that night; they did not even straighten up the shelter-tent. Hope-Jones and Ferguson favored starting at once in search of the treasure, but the captain said it would be wiser first to eat breakfast. “Besides,” he added, “Harvey needs some rest.”
So they built a fire and soon were enjoying tin cups of hot coffee and some broiled duck’s meat—for the captain had snared wild fowl the evening before and had prepared it while on watch.
Although the moon was setting when the start was made from the camp, they pushed on quickly, for their watches told them that in another half hour dawn would come; and when at last they reached the large centre mound and the point where Harvey had found the second white rock, a gray light was penetrating the woods.
Three happy men, and a boy who was even happier, sat around the camp-fire on the banks of the river Marañon that evening.
“You say the quartz is the richest you ever saw?” asked Harvey.
“Yes, it is,” and the captain lifted one of the many pieces they had brought from the mine as samples, and all looked at it for perhaps the hundredth time that day.