There was a simultaneous crash as the rifles were discharged, and Jim felt a sharp, stinging sensation in his left side and in his arm as he fell back upon the ground. A body fell a second after his own and lay right across his face, and Jim had actually put up his hand to push away the corpse before he realised that he was not at all severely hurt. He was recalled to his senses by hearing the captain’s voice commanding his men to reload and fire again into the heap of corpses, to “make assurance doubly sure,” as he put it, and Jim had presence of mind enough to abstain from making any further movement, though he suffered agonies of suspense while waiting for the second discharge.
It came at last, and Douglas escaped yet a second time, although the body lying above his own was riddled with bullets. The Englishman could feel now that the bullet which struck him had passed between his left side and his left arm, grazing both, but inflicting no injury worth speaking of. But would he escape after all, or would he have his brains blown out as he lay? The question was soon answered, for even as he was thinking about it, the body was hauled off his face and a soldier shouted: “Why, captain, here is a man who is still alive.”
Garcia-y-Garcia ran up and stood over Jim, looking down at him with eyes that glittered with savage menace. He half turned away to give the order for Jim’s death, when he checked himself. His expression gradually changed, and presently he spoke:
“No; I don’t think I’ll shoot you to-day, Señor Chileño, although I don’t know that I may not change my mind later. However, I will spare you this once, for you deserve to escape death after having been shot at twice. Get up!”
Hardly able to believe his ears, Jim rose to his feet, and was immediately secured to the chain once more. Then, still in a dream, he heard the command given to march, and the sadly depleted company moved down the side of the knoll, leaving nearly seventy unburied corpses lying on its summit. How very differently things had looked yesterday at this hour, thought Jim: how sadly everything had changed! Between now and yesterday lay this blood-red day of Cuzco—a day which Jim knew he would never forget so long as he lived.
Chapter Seventeen.
A Curious Discovery.
After the dreadful episode near Cuzco a heavy gloom settled down upon the poor remnant of the prisoners, and the group marched forward and ever forward in a sullen, hopeless silence. Jim made several efforts to put fresh heart into his comrades, and to persuade them that everything was not lost, even yet, if they could but pull themselves together. He told them that the mines were still some distance away, and that a second attempt at escape might perhaps be so engineered as to be successful; but it was all to no purpose; the unhappy Chilians had completely lost heart. Moreover, they seemed to think that the ill-success which had attended their effort at Cuzco was in some measure due to the young Englishman who had, as they put it, misjudged the time; and Jim soon found that he was everywhere greeted with sullen looks instead of with the cheery smiles which were once accorded him. He therefore gave up the idea of inciting them to another attempt, and came to the conclusion that he would have to make his escape alone, if it was to be made; and he determined that henceforth he would keep his intentions secret from the others, and would not even invoke their assistance; for he feared treachery on their part in the temper that then possessed them.