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.