Part 46 (1/2)

CHAPTER IV.--TREASURE-HUNTERS. THE FOREST.

The exact topography of Cannibal Glen, as the boys had named this blood-reeking territory, was, however, not the only discovery made to-day.

The other was singular in the extreme. It was nothing less than that of a ruined fort, at no great distance from the place where the balloon was anch.o.r.ed, but high up on the side of a hill and surrounded by a clump of trees.

The fort was built of stone, and still of considerable strength, and so constructed that it could be defended, if occasion demanded, by two resolute young men against four score savages.

Duncan thought it somewhat strange, that there was no footpath leading towards it, and that it seemed to be avoided by the natives.

They found out afterwards that the place had been the scene of a cruel ma.s.sacre of white men--Portuguese without a doubt--and that it was now supposed to be the abode of evil spirits.

All the better for our young adventurers. And they made up their minds to take possession of the old fort the very next day.

That afternoon, however, they removed everything from the car of the balloon, and camped just a little way therefrom.

They had lit a fire really more for the sake of light than heat, and for, many hours after the sun's last glow tipped the snowy summits of the mountains with pink and blue, and the stars had come out, they sat here talking of home. But not of home only, but of their future prospects.

”From several strange cavities I have observed in my rambles to-day,”

said Duncan, ”I have come to the conclusion that the white men who built that fort were also miners. Everything points to this fact, and also, alas! to that of their murderous extermination by fire and by the spears of these fiendish savages.”

”Yes, Conal, it may have been many long years ago, centuries perhaps, but who can say what discoveries we may not make next. There may be buried treasure!”

Both Conal and Frank opened their eyes wider now.

”What!” cried Frank, ”you think--”

”I don't think, Frank, my boy, I am reasoning from a.n.a.logy, as it were.

First and foremost, it is not for nought the glaud whistles.”

”I don't hitch on,” said the c.o.c.kney boy.

”The glaud,” said Conal by way of explanation, ”is a wild Scottish hawk, that always whistles aloud before darting on his prey.”

”The glaud in this case,” said Duncan, ”is the Portuguese, who never go into any savage country except for the sake of treasure or plunder.

”Secondly,” he continued, ”if the band were all ma.s.sacred, they doubtless had hidden their dust, and it is evidently there still.

Thirdly, these cannibal outcasts care nothing for gold, and would at any time give a large and valuable diamond for a coloured bead.”

”I do declare,” cried Frank, ”I sha'n't sleep a wink to-night for thinking of all this. Duncan, you are clever!”

”Have you only just found that out?” said Conal, laughing. Conal was proud of his brother.

”And now,” said Duncan, ”shall we, after a few days of exploration, get into the balloon once more, and try to find our way to the sea-sh.o.r.e.”

”Before I could answer that question myself,” he added, ”I would like to think it all out, and so I move that we curl up.”

Wrapped in their warm rugs--for, at this elevation, though in mid-Africa, a rug is almost a necessity at night--the boys were soon asleep beside the fire, and no one was left on guard except dear old Vike.