“But, Aniwee,” burst out the boy excitedly, “what do you mean? Surely there is nothing to be afraid of in a big wood?”
“The forest stretches beyond the ken of man,” answered the Queen. “Both my people and the Araucanians believe that in its untrodden depths lies the hidden city of a powerful people, the Ciudad Encantada,[[1]] and that amidst those woods dwells a strong hairy race, whom to meet is death.”
[1]. The Enchanted City.
“But surely, Aniwee, you don’t believe this rubbish? Don’t you remember all you learnt in the Andes once before as to La Ciudad Encantada?” answered Harry impatiently. “And as to the hairy men—why, they are nothing but big monkeys, that’s all.”
“Aniwee is not a coward,” answered the Queen gravely, “but all her arts will not make the Araucanians enter yon belt of trees. However, let us ride forward, and see if we can render assistance to the white Cacique. She may have given up the struggle on reaching the forest.”
They galloped forward in silence, Lenketrou leading in the direction whence he had caught sight of the wild horses and the three galloping figures. No one seemed to care to speak, and a foreboding of evil oppressed both Sir Francis and Harry. It was midday, the sun was streaming down upon them in hot fury, and all were more or less oppressed and tortured by thirst. Even the wiry horses suffered acutely. Thus they rode for nearly an hour, and at length approached the confines of the forest. As they did so, the Indians drew rein and brought their horses together.
“It is as I said,” remarked Aniwee sadly. “The Araucanians will not enter there, and it is plain that the white Cacique has passed that way. See yonder,” she continued, pointing to something which was lying on the ground; “what is that?”
With a low cry Harry spurred his horse forward, followed by Sir Francis and Freddy, and more slowly by Aniwee, the other Indians remaining where they had first drawn rein.
Lying on the ground was a saddle, from which the girths had been torn away, doubtless by a tremendous shock, and around the bent hilt of the saddle-bow was coiled a lasso, which had been snapped in two between the loop or noose and the casting end. Not far away lay Topsie’s rifle and her revolver, with one chamber discharged. That was all. In vain the boys searched all round. In vain they and Sir Francis rent the air with loud cries, in the hope of receiving an answer from the missing girl. Only the echoes of their own voices returned to them, mocking, as it were, their futile efforts.
What was to be done? To attempt to search the vast forest would be madness. Its impenetrable mazes forbade so hopeless a venture. Ah, God! what was to be done?