Harry Escombe Part 4

But when he had reached this latter point of retrospection Mama Cachama's eyes were closed and, to Harry's chagrin, she appeared to have fallen into a deep sleep. Before, however, his disappointment had found time to express itself in words the old Indian woman began to speak in a low tone, as though soliloquising.

"Yes," she murmured, "I see it all quite distinctly, the white tents gleaming in the brilliant suns.h.i.+ne of early morning, with their ropes strained tight by the dew that has fallen heavily during the night; the peons moving hither and thither, s.h.i.+vering in the keen air as they make their preparations for the day's work; the horses and mules feeding eagerly; the fires blazing cheerily and the blue smoke streaming straight up in the still air. Yes, and I see the two Englishmen, the old and the young one, sitting at breakfast in their tents. The elder man is tall and thin, with black hair touched here and there with grey, and a close-clipped moustache. He is dressed in dark-grey woollen clothing, and wears brown boots reaching to the knee. He is glancing through a little book as he eats, writing in it from time to time. Now he rises and, taking a whip in his hand, puts on a soft cloth cap and goes to the tent door. He calls to one named Jose to bring him his horse, and then gives the young _Ingles_ certain instructions, speaking sharply as though in anger.

"Now the horse is brought, and the elder _Ingles_ mounts him somewhat awkwardly, as though he were not accustomed to life in the saddle, and rides off, accompanied by six peons who carry long poles with small flags on them, also heavy hammers, axes, machetes, ropes, and bundles of wooden stakes. The young _Ingles_ also prepares to leave the camp, and busies himself in examining certain strange instruments that are packed in boxes of polished wood. But it is the elder _Ingles_ that I must follow. He leads the way over rising ground, riding toward a snow-clad peak that gleams like silver in the far distance, pausing occasionally while his peons drive a stake into the ground where directed by him.

They proceed thus until they find themselves facing a bare rocky slope so steep that scarcely might a llama climb it; and here they pause for a time while the _Ingles_ looks about him. Then they move off to the left, skirting the precipice until they come to a great wood growing on a steep spur of the mountain. They enter this wood and penetrate it for a considerable distance, the ground ever rising more steeply and becoming looser and more difficult as they go. Here the horse finds it so hard to keep his feet, and is in such constant danger of falling, that at length the rider dismounts and, leaving the horse standing, presses forward as though anxious to get to the other side of the wood, his peons following and whispering eagerly together. They are enc.u.mbered with the various articles which they carry, and consequently cannot travel over that steep, loose ground so rapidly as the Englishman, who carries nothing but his riding whip and one of the poles with a flag on it, which he uses to help him over the rough ground, and he turns upon them from time to time with angry words, urging them to greater exertion. At first they answer nothing; but at length the strictures of the _Ingles_ goad them to retort, humbly in the beginning, but soon with such heat that he lifts his whip and strikes one of them savagely with it across the face. And at that, as though the blow were a signal, every peon flings from him his burden, and the whole of them hurl themselves upon the white man and bear him to the ground, the one who was struck raising his machete as though to split the skull of his enemy."

CHAPTER SIX.

FOUND!

At this point Mama Cachama became greatly agitated, and struggled violently in an endeavour to wrench her hands out of Es...o...b..'s grasp, crying that they were going to murder the Englishman, and that she would not remain to see it. But the vision which she had thus far described was of so extraordinary a character, and impressed the young man so strongly with a sense of its reality and truth, that he was determined to follow up the clue as far as possible; he therefore resolutely retained his grip upon the old woman's hands, under the impression that, if he released them, the vision would pa.s.s, possibly beyond recall.

But suddenly Cachama's struggles ceased, and she sighed as though relieved of some great fear.

"Ah!" she exclaimed, "they will not kill him after all; one of the peons intervenes, pointing out that if the Englishman is killed, none of them may dare to again show their faces in the towns, for information of the murder will be given, and the Peruvian Corporation--who have employed the Englishman to do this work for them--will never rest until every one of the murderers is brought to justice. The others understand this at once, and agree that there shall be no murder; but they are binding the Englishman's hands and feet, so that he cannot escape; and now they are asking each other what will be best to do with him. There is much talk--some urge one thing, some another--now Jose, the man who prevented the murder, speaks--he proposes that the prisoner shall be carried to a certain place and there detained until the whole of their wages be paid them, after which they are to release their prisoner, and each man will go his way, working no more for the Englishman. Now they are pondering on the proposal--yes, they have all agreed to it; and now they are releasing the Englishman's feet, in order that he may walk with them, but his hands remain tied behind him, and one of the peons holds the end of the rope, to make sure that their prisoner shall not escape. Two others grasp him, one by either arm, to help him, for the ground is rough and steep, and the going bad. They move forward again, following an easterly direction--their progress is slow, for the Englishman stumbles at almost every step, his hands being tied. He declares that walking, under such circ.u.mstances, is impossible, and angrily demands to be released--but they laugh and jeer at him. He struggles on, falling frequently despite the a.s.sistance of the two men who are holding him, and at length the party emerge from the wood on its far side and find themselves on the spur of the mountain, on barren, rocky, open ground.

Now they reach the crest of the spur, and, pa.s.sing over it, still travelling in an easterly direction, descend into the valley beyond until they reach the margin of a small stream flowing northward. Here they pause in the shadow of an enormous granite rock of very remarkable appearance, for it bears a most extraordinary resemblance to the head and neck of an Indian--I know it well; and among us it is called 'The Inca's Head'. They sit down beneath this rock and proceed to eat and drink--for it is now two hours past midday--binding the Englishman's feet and releasing his hands to enable him to feed himself. Now the meal is over, and the party resume their march, going northward along the western bank of the stream and plunging ever deeper into the valley.

The soil here is once more rich and fertile, being overgrown with long, rank gra.s.s--through which they leave a trail easy to follow--and dense ma.s.ses of mimosa and other bush. Now it is evening, the valley grows dark, and the party prepare to camp for the night; they have found a suitable spot, quite close to the river bank, and are lighting a large fire. They eat and drink again. Now they have finished, and are disposing themselves to rest, one man of the party undertaking to remain awake for a certain time to watch the prisoner, until relieved by another who will perform the same service.

"The night pa.s.ses; the light of dawn sweeps down the steep mountain slopes into the valley, and the peon who is watching the prisoner awakes his fellows. Again they eat and drink. Now they have finished their meal and resume their march, still following the western bank of the stream. I go with them as they plod on, hour after hour, until they reach a point where the stream turns westward, and here they take advantage of a shallow spot which enables them to cross to the other side. They are now marching eastward up the slope of the valley, and at length they emerge upon a great plateau, thickly dotted with extensive clumps of bush, interspersed here and there with wide belts of timber through which they pa.s.s. For many miles they plod onward, winding hither and thither among the clumps of bush and through the belts of forest trees, but all the while holding steadily toward the east. Night comes again; a fire is lighted, as on the preceding night, they eat and drink, and once more dispose themselves to sleep, one man again undertaking to watch the prisoner. For a time--how long I know not, but it appears to be about an hour--this man remains faithful to his duty; but, as the moments pa.s.s and the prisoner appears to be sleeping heavily, the watcher's vigilance relaxes, he grows drowsy, his eyelids close, he dozes, awakes, dozes again, once more awakes, and finally succ.u.mbs to sleep.

"Meanwhile the prisoner, who has to all appearance been sleeping heavily, has remained very wide awake, and, observing that his guard is not over watchful, proceeds to strain stealthily upon his bonds, which, he has noticed, are not drawn quite so tight as usual. Gradually he succeeds in loosening them to such an extent that eventually he is able to free one hand. To free the other at once becomes easy, and, this done, the prisoner very cautiously raises himself sufficiently to a.s.sure himself that his captors are all soundly sleeping. Satisfied of this, he rolls himself gently over and over, a few inches at a time, until he is outside the circle of his captors, when he rises to his feet and with infinite caution withdraws into the darkness, making for the nearest clump of bush, which, upon reaching, he places between himself and the faint glow of the dying camp fire. Hidden thus from his late captors, should any of them chance to awake and miss him, he now walks rapidly forward, constantly glancing over his shoulder in fear lest he should be pursued; and in this manner he soon places a couple of miles between himself and the sleeping peons. He believes that he is now returning toward the camp over the ground which he has already traversed, and he hastens onward as fast as the uneven nature of the ground will permit.

But the night is dark, the stars are obscured by heavy ma.s.ses of threatening rain-cloud; there is therefore no beacon by which he can guide his footsteps, and, unsuspected by himself, he has gradually swung round until he is heading south-east. And now the gathering storm breaks, the rain falls heavily, and in a few minutes the unhappy fugitive is drenched to the skin, and chilled to the marrow by the fierce and bitter wind which comes swooping down from the snowfields and glaciers of the higher Andes; yet he dares not take shelter from the storm, even in the recesses of a clump of scrub, for he fears that by dawn at the latest, his enemies will be on his track, and--forgetful or ignorant of the fact that the storm will obliterate his trail from all but dogs or experienced trackers--of which the peons have none--the fugitive is madly anxious to put as many miles as possible between himself and his pursuers. On he staggers, blindly and breathlessly, whipped by the pelting rain, buffeted by the furious wind, half-fainting already from exhaustion, yet spurred on by unreasoning terror--I think that unless he is quickly rescued the Englishman will die."

Es...o...b.. shuddered and went white to the lips. This man, whose every wandering footstep had been faithfully traced through Mama Cachama's marvellous clairvoyant gift, was a remorseless tyrant in his petty way, so curiously const.i.tuted that his one idea of pleasure appeared to be the making miserable the lives of all about him, even to going out of his way to do so, to such extent, indeed, that men had been heard to say bitterly that, as in the case of some noxious animal or reptile, the world would be the better for his death. The young Englishman could recall without effort many an occasion when he had been so hara.s.sed and worried, and his existence so embittered by the impish spite of this same Butler that even he, gentle and kindly as was his disposition in general, believed he could have contemplated the demise of the other with a feeling not far removed from equanimity. Yet, now that the man was in actual peril, all that was forgotten, every generous instinct in the lad sprang at once to the surface, his one idea was to hurry to the rescue, and he cried eagerly:

"Tell me exactly where to find him and I will go at once and bring him in."

"Wait, _muchacho_, wait!" exclaimed Cachama impatiently. "Let me follow him first as far as I may, lest I lose him, for now his way is growing erratic, his mind and body are becoming numb with the misery of his plight, and he no longer has any clear knowledge of anything, the one conviction which haunts him being that he must press onward anywhere--no matter where--otherwise his pursuers will overtake him and put him to a terrible death. Ah! now the dawn breaks, and the storm is subsiding; but the Englishman takes no note of this. He seems quite incapable of noticing anything now, but runs on aimlessly, panting and gasping, his breath bursting from his labouring lungs in great sobs, his eyes staring unseeingly before him, his limbs quivering and staggering beneath him, his thin clothing clinging in saturated tatters to his body, which is streaked here and there with blood where the thorns have torn him, as he burst through them in his headlong flight. Aha! the end must surely now be drawing near, for see, the foam upon his lips is tinged with blood, and rapidly grows a deeper crimson; he reels and stumbles as he runs--he is down--no--yes--he is up again--and staggers onwards for a few yards-- now he is down again, falling with a crash--and, rolling over on his back with outstretched arms, lies motionless, his eyes closed, and the blood trickling out of the corners of his mouth."

"Is he dead, Mama Cachama? is he dead?" gasped Es...o...b.., his grievances all forgotten now, and his sense of pity stirred to its uttermost depths by the shocking plight of his chief, so graphically painted by the words of the old Indian woman.

"Nay," answered Cachama, "he still lives, for his chest heaves and he now and then gasps for breath; but his flight is ended, for the present at least, and if you would find him with the life still in his body you must surely hasten."

"But how shall I find him?" demanded Harry. "You must direct me how to go straight to where he lies; for should it be necessary for us to pick up his trail and follow that, he would be dead long ere we could reach him."

"Where is Arima?" demanded Cachama. "Let him come to me."

"I am here," answered the Indian, drawing near to the old woman.

"Then listen attentively, Arima, and mark well what I say," commanded the Mama. She spoke to him for a full minute or more in the Indian tongue, of which Es...o...b.. comprehended enough to understand that she was describing what might be termed the bearings of the spot where Butler lay exhausted and senseless, Arima nodding his head understanding and murmuring here and there a word of comprehension as she went on. Her description ended, she paused for a few seconds, then murmured: "It is enough. Now let me awake, for I am old. I have wandered afar, and the journey has wearied me."

Whereupon, after an interval of a minute or two, she slowly opened her eyes, stared about her vacantly for a little, and finally said: "Ah, yes, I remember! I was to tell you something, Senor. Have you learned what you desired to know?"

"Yes, thanks," answered Harry, "always provided, of course, that-- that,"--he was about to say--"that your information is reliable"; but subst.i.tuted for those somewhat ungracious words--"that Arima can find the spot which you have described to him."

"Think you that you can find it, Arima?" demanded the old woman.

"Yes, Mama Cachama," answered Arima, "I shall find it without doubt; for I have listened attentively to all that you have said, and already know the direction generally, in which to seek it, while the particulars which you have given me are so explicit that I can scarcely miss the exact spot."

"That is well," approved Cachama. Then, turning to Es...o...b.., she said: "And now, Senor, if you will remain with me for the rest of the day and the coming night it will give me pleasure, and I will do my best for your comfort; the afternoon is wellnigh spent, and if, as I understood you to say, you started from your camp shortly after daybreak this morning, you can scarcely return to it ere nightfall, and the way is a rough and dangerous one to travel in the darkness."

"Nevertheless, with many thanks for your hospitable offer, I must go,"

answered Harry, "for the matter is urgent, as you must know, for your last words to me were that if I would find my--friend with the life still in him I must hasten."

"Nay, _amigo_, I know nothing of what I told you while in my state of trance," answered the old woman; "but, whatever it may have been, you may depend that it was true; therefore if I bade you hasten, it is certain that hasten you must, and in that case it would be no kindness in me to urge you to stay. Yet you will not go until you have again eaten and drank."

"Thanks again, Mama," answered Harry, "but I fear we must. As you have said, the afternoon is far advanced, and there is therefore all the more reason why we should make the best possible use of every remaining moment of daylight. If you will excuse us, therefore, we will bid you adios and go forthwith. You have rendered me an inestimable service, Mama, for which mere words of thanks seem a very inadequate recompense, yet I will not offend you by offering any other reward. Still, if there is a way--"

"There is none--at present--_amigo mio_" interrupted the old woman; "nor do I wish any recompense beyond your thanks. If, as you say, I have been able to help you I am glad, and shall be glad to help you again whenever and as often as you may need my a.s.sistance. Nevertheless,"-- looking with sudden intentness into the young Englishman's eyes--"I think--nay, I am certain--that a time is coming when, if you care to remember them, Mama Cachama and Yupanqui will be glad that they befriended you."

"Rest a.s.sured, then, Mama, that when that time arrives, you will not be forgotten," answered Harry. "And now, _adios_, until we meet again.

Remember me to Yupanqui, and say that I am sorry I could not stay to see him. Are you ready, Arima? Then march!"

It was close upon midnight when Es...o...b.. and his Indian guide rode into camp, after a fatiguing and somewhat adventurous journey; for as Mama Cachama had said, the way was rough and by no means devoid of danger even in the daytime, while at night those dangers were multiplied a hundredfold. Enquiry revealed that none of the six peons whom Harry had that morning despatched to seek for traces of the missing party had returned, and the young man therefore gave Arima instructions to make all necessary preparations to start with him at daybreak, in search of the spot at which Cachama had described Butler as falling exhausted after his terrible flight through the night and storm. Of course Harry scarcely expected to find Butler there, and still less did he hope it, for in that event it would only too probably mean that the missing man was dead, whereas Harry hoped that, after lying exhausted for perhaps some hours, his chief would recover strength enough to make a further effort to return to camp; but he knew that in any case the search must necessarily start from the spot indicated by Cachama, and for that spot, therefore, he must make in the first instance.

It was broad daylight, but the sun had not yet risen above the snow- capped Andes when Es...o...b.., accompanied by Arima, each of them mounted upon a st.u.r.dy mule, and the Indian leading Butler's saddled and bridled horse, rode out of camp the next morning on their quest for the missing man, taking with them a week's rations for each, and a similar quant.i.ty for Butler's use--should they be fortunate enough to find him--as well as a small supply of medical comforts, the whole contained in a pack securely strapped upon the saddle of the led horse.

For the first hour the route followed by Arima was identical with that described by Mama Cachama while in her clairvoyant state; but when they reached the wood wherein Butler's horse had been found straying, the Indian bore away to the right, and, skirting the belt of timber for some distance, cut through it near its southern extremity, emerging upon the mountain spur some three miles from, and much higher than, the spot where the first search party had come out. The crest of the spur now lay about half a mile in front of them, and upon reaching it the travellers beheld a magnificent prospect before them. The mountain spur sloped away steeply from their feet, plunging down until it was lost in a wide, densely wooded ravine about a mile in width, beyond which the ground again rose somewhat irregularly in a wide sweep of upland, gradually merging into foothills which, viewed from that distance, appeared to be the advance guard of the towering Andes. The atmosphere was exquisitely clear, revealing every object in the landscape with photographic sharpness, and Arima paused for a few minutes, with the double object of breathing the animals and taking a good, long, comprehensive view of the scene before him. For some minutes he gazed intently at the many landmarks, that stretched away before him and on either hand, and at length turned to Es...o...b.. and said, pointing:

"You see those twin peaks yonder, Senor?"

"a.s.suredly," a.s.sented Harry.

"And you also see that hill between them and us--the one, I mean, with the cloud shadow resting upon it which causes it to tell up dark against the sunlit mountain slopes beyond?"

"Certainly," again a.s.sented Harry.

"It is a few miles on the other side of that hill that we shall find the spot of which Mama Cachama spoke," explained Arima.

"Then you recognise the various marks which she described for your guidance, do you, and believe that she actually saw them in her trance?"

"Without doubt, Senor," answered the Indian in a tone of surprise, as though he wondered at the slight hint of incredulity suggested by the question.

"And do you think that, when we arrive, we shall find the chief there?"

asked Harry.

"Nay, Senor, that I cannot say," answered Arima. "But this I know, that if he is still there when we reach the spot he will be dead."

"Yes," a.s.sented Es...o...b.., "I fear you are right. And how long will it take us to reach the spot?"

"We shall do well if we get there before the sun sinks half-way down the heavens to-morrow," was the answer.

"To-morrow!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Harry incredulously. "How far, then, is it from where we now stand?"

"If we could ride straight to it we might reach it to-day some two hours before sunset," answered Arima. "But that is impossible, Senor; our road lies off yonder to the right, along the slope of the mountain, to the nearest point at which it will be possible for us to cross the ravine; and when we have accomplished that, there will still be a toilsome ride of some three hours before us, ere we can hope to emerge from the ravine on the other side. We shall be fortunate if we accomplish so much before we are overtaken by the darkness."