They ascended the path to the top of the crater. The ground here was bare for a short distance, and Stephen saw that two lines of stones marked the course of the path to the trees. It did not lead down towards the sea, but was carried obliquely round the top of the hill until it reached the edge of the forest on the side of the island on which they had landed. Two rude images marked the spot where it entered the forest. It now led down in a direct path six feet wide. This was completely clear of shrubs, and not the smallest shoot of brushwood showed above the soil. Wherever the ground descended steeply rude steps had been cut; the trees on each side of the path had been barked on the side facing it. Here and there sticks, some ten feet high, with pieces of coloured cloth hanging from them, stood along the side of the path. The path itself was almost like a trough, the centre being fully two feet lower than the general level.
“It must be used very frequently,” the Peruvian said, “and has probably been used for ages. No doubt in the rainy [pg 206]season the water helps to hollow it out, but the work must have been begun by human feet.”
Jacopo kept closely behind the others, crossing himself frequently and muttering invocations to the saints. They followed the path until it came out at the head of a deep inlet.
“It is a useful road to the top of the hill,” Stephen said. “It has not taken us more than three-quarters of an hour coming down, while we were six times as long in going up, and hard at work all the time. Look there; there is no mistake as to the numbers who come here,” and he pointed to the patches of ashes and charred wood scattered thickly on the sand above the water-line, all along the edge of the inlet.
“There can be no doubt about that,” the Peruvian said; “the place must be constantly visited, or at any rate by a great number at a time. However, I don’t know whether that need disturb us. They evidently go straight up to worship or sacrifice and come straight down again, and all that we have got to do is not to fire a gun when they are on the island. However, we may as well look along the shore to see if there are any further paths into the forest.”
They examined carefully, but could see no signs that the natives had gone inland at any other point.
“We may as well go along the shore now,” Stephen said, “then we shall see how far this inlet is from our bay.”
They were turning to start when there was a rustle among the undergrowth, followed by a short deep sound. Jacopo dropped his musket and fell on his knees. The captain crossed himself hastily; but Stephen dashed forward towards the spot where the sound had come, shouting:
“Come along, captain, it is a pig.”
There was a rush as he entered the bushes, and a dozen pigs dashed off. He levelled his musket and fired at the hindmost, and gave a shout of delight as it rolled over.