After a vast deal of jabbering in their unknown tongue, two of the Indians bound Tubby’s hands behind his back while the others stood guard to protect their companions against any sudden move. Then came Fred’s turn. This done, the boys were led across the open space to a clump of trees from amidst which the Indians had first appeared.
To Tubby’s astonishment he saw that a narrow, but well beaten trail ran through the jungle from this point. But in what direction it led he was, of course, ignorant. He guessed, however, that it must be one of the secret Indian paths to which Mr. Raynor had referred. On either side of the narrow trail the jungle grew up thick and impenetrable. Two Indians walked in front, then came the boys, behind marched the other Indians.
“W-w-w-w-what is going to become of us?” quavered Fred as they moved along at a swift though steady pace.
“I don’t know. I guess we are bound for some village or other back in the San Blas country. It’s a good sign though that they haven’t offered us any violence.”
Fred could not but agree that this was so. But little more talk was indulged in between the two captives. It was not a situation that adapted itself to conversation. Hour after hour they trudged along through the tropical forest until at last they came upon something startling.
In front of them, as they rounded a curve in the crooked trail, there suddenly rose up something that seemed menacingly to dispute their further passage through the forest.
There, facing them, was a hideous monster carved out of a white stone or marble, they could not be sure which. The thing loomed ghastly white against a background of dark trees. Spots of rank moss grew on its glaring stone face. Its stumpy hands were folded and tucked up on its breast; its legs and feet, shaped like a water creature’s, were drawn up under its belly. But it was the awful face with its sinister glare that gave the boys a start that quivered through their frames. As if in proof of its antiquity the statue was broken in places and leaned slightly to one side. Through the cracks in the white stone, great, twisted, gnarled tree trunks, like serpents, writhed in and out. Altogether it was as horrible an object to come upon in the depths of a great forest as the mind could conceive. Small wonder the boys shuddered at it. The Indians, however, did not appear to regard it with much awe.
“What an awful looking thing!” shuddered Fred, who had turned pale.
“Pshaw! It’s only an old idol,” Tubby scoffed, assuming a bold air for Fred’s comfort. “Lots of ’em in this part of the world. Crackers! Fred, I shouldn’t wonder but what we are coming to one of those ancient cities that have long been supposed to exist in this part of the world. I think—Great Cæsar! Look there, will you?”
A wilderness of ruins suddenly opened before them as they topped a small rise. Everywhere was a confusion of tumbled idols, pillars, blocks of stone, heavy walls, flights of steps, some whole, some tumbling with decay, others still upright. Roots, branches and curling vines writhed in and out of the scene of desolation like great snakes. Here and there trees shot up from the empty walls of roofless palaces. Their restless shadows waved mournfully above the ruins. Further back stood a building that surmounted a sort of platform of white stone. It was reached by a flight of steps on one side. On the other the walls towered up steep and slippery. They would not have afforded foothold to a fly.