Both canoes were gone!
V.
In my hypersensitive condition a pall of black despair settled over me. Here we were, rich beyond belief in precious gems and holding the key of knowledge of fabulous, undreamed-of wealth—and yet about to die like defenseless stricken animals! The irony of it!
But it was not so with Hardy and Anderson. With great energy, they searched the locality for traces of the miscreants (whom it had been hoped we had passed in the night), and, finding traces of them still fresh, set off in the manner of hounds in chase.
The two men had not far to go, for in less than an hour they reported back to us, procured more ammunition and led the way. So it came about that, nearing them silently, we had our first view of the men who had killed de Silva. There were four of them, all Indians, hunched together in a circle on the bank of the river. One of them was talking. To one side, tilting rakishly against a tree, stood a three-quarter size statue of exquisite proportions done in solid gold.
There it was, prime art of the Ataruipe, pulled, hauled, carried and dragged thither by an infinity of patience and endurance on the part of those aborigines, who now gave no heed to the play of the sunlight on that marvelous work of the goldsmiths; instead they were entirely engrossed in their own affairs. Our canoes were not visible, but we believed they were launched in the water, which at this point was placid and deep.
Hardy had just left us to get close to the river, when something, or someone of us, moved with too little caution, for the next instant the Indians were up, and, catching their treasure, ran down the bank of the stream. In full cry, we followed.
It has been said that the pen is mightier than the sword, and the sentiment is as pretty as it is ancient; but of one thing I am certain and that is, even in this enlightened age, the sword, allegorical and actual, is a much swifter instrument than the pen.
Much happened in the next thirty seconds. Our two canoes rode the water near at hand. Into one of them two of the Indians, with the help of a third, cast the gold statue, the first two following it with their bodies. In a moment they reached midstream. But the canoe began to sink.
Several shots split the air. I saw the two remaining Indians, now seated in our other canoe, were shooting at Hardy and young Anderson. Their fire was promptly returned. It proved deadly. Both Indians were hit, and the canoe began to drift.