The Peruvian Government, it now appeared, was in the habit of giving the prisoners a small bonus for every cubic yard of rubble or ore that was removed above a certain fixed quantity, and this bonus Jim laid himself out to earn, with the result that he very soon had a nice little hoard of pesetas, which he laid out on such comforts as the village provided. He also took care to keep his gaoler well supplied with cigarillos, which proved the best prescription for keeping him in a good temper. So that by the time that three months had slipped by, the man had ceased to keep guard over his prisoner at all, and left him to excavate the tunnel unwatched, while he himself sat down on the shady side of a rock to enjoy his tobacco. Things were now indeed shaping very well for Jim, and having lulled his gaoler’s suspicions, the young man next set about getting together a small store of provisions, which he secreted little by little behind a great boulder which he found about fifty feet inside the mouth of the tunnel, and a month later he had accumulated what he considered to be enough provender to last him, with care, until he could reach either the sea-coast or the nearest Chilian outpost, which at that time was lying somewhere near Caraguara.
The next thing, he told himself, was to wait for a favourable opportunity to escape; and while waiting he put all his energies into his work, so that he might have as much money as possible when the time came for him to make his attempt. It was quite the usual thing now for the guard—whose name, Jim had ascertained, was Carbajal—to lie down behind his rock, and either sleep or smoke while his charge laboured in the tunnel; and one day Jim crawled over to the rock where he lay and took a good look at the fellow. He was sitting with his back against the rock, fast asleep; his rifle was lying about three feet away from him, and his peaked cap was tilted over his eyes. If he would only go to sleep like that in the morning, thought Jim, all would be well; for the escape would have to be made very early in order that the fugitive might get a good long start before his absence was discovered when the roll was called at nightfall.
Douglas had now quite a nice little stock of money, and he soon made up his mind what to do. One evening, before going to the sleeping barracks, he bought a bottle of aguardiente, and from an Indio with whom he had made friends he procured a large quantity of coca leaves, which he put into the bottle of spirit to soak overnight, knowing that by the morning the strong liquor would have absorbed all the cocaine out of the leaves.
The next morning he extracted all the leaves and recorked the bottle, which he carefully secreted under his coat, for he had determined to make his escape that very day. Then he went up to the tunnel, followed by the guard, who lay down behind his usual rock directly they arrived at the works. Jim considered for a few seconds whether he should offer the man the bottle at once or later, and finally determined in favour of the latter, in order to avoid arousing his guard’s suspicions, and to give him an opportunity to get thoroughly thirsty in the hot sun. Jim then went into the tunnel and walked down to its far end, not to work, however, for he determined to save himself up as much as possible, in view of future contingencies.
He therefore sat down, with his back against one of the tunnel walls, but would not close his eyes lest he should inadvertently drop off to sleep. He had been staring abstractedly at the opposite wall for some minutes, when it dawned upon him that one of the blocks of stone of which it was composed had a very curiously symmetrical appearance, and the longer he gazed at it the more convinced did he become that the slab was not nature’s handiwork at all, but that of man. In a moment all sorts of legends vaguely flashed through his mind, and, knowing that this tunnel had been originally used by the Incas and had not been opened since, he began to wonder whether the curious circumstance was worth investigating. He soon decided that it was, and seizing his pick, he inserted the point at the edge of the slab, and attempted to lever the stone away. It resisted for so long, however, that he was beginning to think the stone was after all no more than a part of the natural rock, when, under a more than usually vigorous pull, he saw it move forward slightly.
He now wrenched at it more determinedly than ever, and in a few seconds had the satisfaction of seeing the heavy slab totter and then fall outward on to the floor of the tunnel. Douglas was provided with matches and a lantern for the purposes of his work, and he lost no time in exploring the cavity which the stone had disclosed. With eager fingers he searched and probed about, but for some time found nothing. Then his hand suddenly encountered something that felt metallic and heavy, and upon bringing it to the light, he found that he held in his hand a small golden image, some three inches high, evidently representing the god Rimac. This spurred him on to new efforts, and in a few minutes he had extracted five other little figures from the same place. Jim believed that he had now emptied the cache, and he was on the point of abandoning further search, since time was flying, but was just feeling round the hole for the last time, when his hand came in contact with something else.
This last object which he brought to light proved to be nothing less than a roll of Inca paper, a coarse material made of the wool of the vicuna, which the priests were accustomed to use in keeping their records. This was probably a prize of considerably greater value than the gold, Jim thought, and he carefully opened it with trembling fingers. But, as he quite expected, he could make nothing of it, for it was written in the ancient Inca character, which few white men have ever seen, and which only a small number of Indians, directly descended from the ancient Peruvian race, are able to decipher. There was not much of it, but Douglas guessed that its value must be great, or it would not have been hidden so carefully away. He therefore folded it up carefully, and put it, together with the little gold figures, in his pocket, and then left the cave with his bottle of aguardiente, which he meant to present to Carbajal.
The fellow was already very nearly asleep, as it happened, and he was, moreover, very thirsty, consequently Jim’s offer was accepted with almost indecent haste; as a matter of fact, Carbajal put the bottle to his lips the moment that Jim held it out to him, and he only removed it when it was nearly all gone.
“Ah! señor,” sighed the soldier, as he wiped his lips, “that stuff was good—it always is good when one is thirsty, but—but what a curious flavour it has with it. Not that it is a disagreeable taste, mind you; indeed, I rather like it, but it is somewhat different from the stuff one usually gets here.”
“Ah,” replied Douglas, “I can see that you are unused to the taste of aguardiente. It is perhaps a long time since you tasted any? However, there is plenty more where that came from, so don’t be chary of using it; besides, I can see that you are thirsty.”