He therefore in due time handed over the eight hundred prisoners—the rest of the band having been killed—to the Bolivian troops; who immediately returned with them to La Paz. Meanwhile Jim repaired the fort sufficiently to provide accommodation for his own troops, with whom he temporarily garrisoned the place. Then he sent a messenger on horseback to Arica to report the success which had been obtained, and to ask for instructions as to what he was to do with the fort.
Meanwhile the young Englishman made up his mind that he was in for at least a fortnight’s sojourn in the fort, or until such time as his messenger should return from Arica; and he began to cast about for some means by which to while the time away.
Chapter Twenty.
The Fulfilment of the Prophecy.
“Well, José, what do you make of it, eh? Why, surely, man, there is nothing in it to frighten you, is there?”
So spoke Jim Douglas to his Indian guide one morning, three or four days after the messenger had been dispatched to Arica. The Englishman had found the time hanging somewhat heavily on his hands up there in that lonely mountain fortress; and therefore, having nothing better to do, he had brought out the roll of parchment which he had found in the tunnel at Sorata, and had set himself to the task of deciphering its meaning. Failing entirely, however, to make any sense out of it, yet somehow convinced that the document was of some importance, he had called José into the tent and asked him whether his knowledge of the various native dialects was sufficient to enable him to translate it.
The effect of the sight of the document upon José had been peculiar, to say the least of it. The moment that his eyes had fallen upon the parchment, his face had turned that peculiar greyish tint which a dark skin takes on in lieu of pallor; his hands had trembled with excitement or some other emotion, and his whole demeanour had been so strange as to call forth the exclamation from Jim above recorded.
The Indian made no reply for several seconds, but sat gazing at the document with eyes that seemed to threaten every moment to start out of his head. Then he turned the parchment over and over in his hands, holding it tenderly, even reverently, as though it were some extremely precious or sacred thing. Finally he pulled himself together, and, in a voice trembling with emotion, replied: “No–o, señor; there is nothing in this document to frighten me, but—but—. You have no idea at all, señor,” he continued, after a lengthy pause, “what this writing refers to?”