Part 10 (2/2)

Single file, the Wai Wais were climbing steps cut in a cliff, gripping liana vines as handrails to balance the weight of their packs. As Biff began the climb, the bearers looked like big, bulging beetles crawling toward the skyline. One by one, they dropped from sight as did the others in the party. BifF learned the reason, when he reached a slanted ledge, like a niche hacked in the cliff, and found the Wai Wais squatting there.

Kamuka came just behind Biff, then others of the party, and finally Joe Nara. Evidently, the Wai Wais were awaiting him, for they began an odd chant that included the words, ”El Dorado-El Dorado-” and FABULOUS EL DORADO 135.

continued as the shock-haired prospector strode past them.

Nara paused where the ledge burrowed at a slant into the cliff and beckoned for everyone to follow, which they did. They entered a gloomy mine shaft, so low that all members of the party had to stoop, except the boys. The Wai Wai bearers, already bending under their burdens, followed the route automatically, as though the pa.s.sage had been cut to their size.

Daylight showed where the shaft opened into a great cavern. There, the sun shone through cracks and other openings in the ceiling. It glinted on chunky rock walls that fairly burned with vivid golden yellow.

All the tales that Biff had ever heard of hidden treasure had suddenly become real. This was a wonderland of wealth, with glittering side shafts going deeper into the mountain, promising new finds for anyone who followed them. Kamuka, awed by the yellow glitter, asked in breathless tone: ”How much you think this worth, Biff? A million cruzeiro-maybe?”

”A lot more, if it's gold ore,” returned Biff. ”But it's worth practically nothing if it is simply yellow quartz. A lot of that is found in Brazil, in places easier to reach than this. What's just as bad, it may be fool's gold.”

”Fool gold? What is that?”

”A mineral called pyrite,” exclaimed Biff, ”usually iron, mixed with sulphur. It often fools people who 136.

think that it is gold. But it is more the color of bra.s.s than gold, and it leaves a green streak when you rub it on something smooth.”

As Biff picked up a chunk of yellow rock to examine it, he caught a nod of approval from his father. Biff had repeated facts that Mr. Brewster had told him regarding metals. Now, Biff's father indicated a stretch of rocky wall, where patches of yellow shone from a background of milky white. He asked: ”What do you make of this, Biff?”

”It looks like gold quartz for sure, Dad!” exclaimed Biff. ”There's no chance of mistaking that. Or is there?”

”In this case, there is no mistake.” Mr. Brewster was studying the milky quartz as he spoke. ”Undoubtedly, this shaft was first mined centuries ago, for it resembles old Indian mines that I have inspected. But although it yielded gold years ago, I doubt that its wealth has even begun to be tapped.”

”You're right about that,” chuckled Joe Nara, who was standing by. ”Look there-and there-and there-”

Nara had turned on a powerful flashlight, and with each announcement, he pointed its beam down another rough-hewn shaft that branched from the main corridor. Each time, the glare was reflected with a new burst of brilliance.

”The gold of El Dorado!” boasted Nara. ”A mountain full of it and a lot more that cropped over, as I'll show you!”

CHAPTER XVI.

Surrounded!

FROM the great central room, Joe Nara led his companions down through a maze of shafts and tunnels. Each pa.s.sage joined with another, and frequently the links were steep steps worn smooth by the feet of native miners, hundreds of years before.

At intervals, daylight showed through shafts that had been driven down through the mountain to tap a vein of gold. Always, the pa.s.sages led finally into new corridors that glittered with rich ore. At last, a long straight tunnel brought the party out on the far side of the mountain, hundreds of feet below the starting level.

The slope was gradual here, featured by dirt gullies leading down to a gra.s.sy valley, with the jungle beyond. As they followed the bed of one dry stream, Joe Nara pointed to the sparkle in its sands.

”That's where I've picked up some of these,” he chuckled, bringing some small gold nuggets from his pocket and displaying them in his open hand. ”But 138 .

mostly I find them up some of the smaller stream beds. The gold just kind of oozes out of the mountain.”

Near the bottom of the slope was a shallow depression that nestled like a bowl in the curve of the mountainside.

”That's where the lake was,” declared Nara. ”The lake where El Dorado used to take a dip and come out all covered with gold. It's dried up, now, but there's still plenty of gold down in those sands.”

Mr. Brewster studied the lake bed carefully. Biff saw his father look beyond, as though following a sandy course that led down to the gra.s.sy area that fringed the jungle.

”You are probably right,” Mr. Brewster told Nara. ”The lake was artificially formed, and once the dam was broken, the water found its way down into the jungle.”

”And it joined a stream there,” added Nara, ”as I'll show you. Do you know why this all happened?” Tilting his head, he darted one of his birdlike glances at Whitman, then back to Mr. Brewster. ”I'll tell you why. When the Indians found that the Spaniards and the English were going after El Dorado as well as after each other, they closed up shop.

”That's what they did. Just closed up shop. They busted the dam and got rid of the lake, so n.o.body could find it. They covered over all the shafts so n.o.body could find them either. They started rumors about El Dorado being somewhere else, to send all SURROUNDED! 139.

the explorers on a wild-goose chase. Then they kept guard over the real El Dorado to scare away anybody who stumbled on it by mistake.”

”All quite logical,” agreed Mr. Brewster. ”That is the way the Indians would act.” He turned to Whitman and asked: ”You agree, don't you, Hal?”

”I agree,” nodded Whitman. ”Now I know why Nara showed us those shrunken heads. He did want to scare our bearers so they would run back to Santa Isabel. But it was because his Wai Wais would have made trouble if we brought a strange tribe here.”

”They made trouble enough as it was,” declared Nara, with a dry chuckle. Then, turning to Mr. Brewster, he said, ”Let's see what's left of that map Lew Kirby gave you. Then we can figure what to do next.”

Mr. Brewster produced the torn corner from the map. It showed the mine, the stream bed, the lake, and the trail that continued into the jungle, where it reached a river that was marked on the map.

”The route is an easy one,” stated Nara, ”as you can see. But first, I want you to estimate the value of the mine. Then pick out the ore you want, so we can take it to the river. From there, we will go downstream to the Casiquiare Ca.n.a.l and work our way through to the Orinoco River.”

They camped that night beneath the trees that fringed the jungle. The next day, Mr. Brewster returned to the mine and studied it in detail. They stayed in the same camp another night and on the 140 .

following day, the Indians brought down loads of ore that Mr. Brewster had selected.

Those loads were carried several miles through the jungle to the river that Nara had mentioned. Biff and Kamuka helped make a new camp there. Then they swam in the river while they waited for the Indians to bring the packs. The water was very clear, and the boys brought up handfuls of glittering sand from the bottom. When Mr. Brewster saw it, he commented: ”There's a fortune in gold to be dredged from this stream. But we still have the problem of getting it down the Orinoco.”

Joe Nara had the answer to that problem. His Indians showed up with a small flotilla of odd-looking craft that resembled the monterias of the Amazon. Nearly thirty feet long, each boat had an open c.o.c.kpit at the front with a thatched cupola at the stern, serving as a sort of cabin.

Nara's boats were different, however, from the more antiquated river craft. His boats were low in the stern, so that the big steering paddle could be replaced by a sizable outboard motor. Nara had such motors and the gasoline to fuel them.

”Every trip I made downriver,” explained Nara, ”either over the mountain and down the Rio Negro, or down this stream to the Orinoco, I bought motors and gasoline and brought them back here. I knew that some day, Lew Kirby would talk some company into a big deal for our mine.

”What's more, I knew the first thing they would SURROUNDED! 141.

ask would be if they could transport either the gold or the ore once they mined it. My answer is, yes, and I've got the boats to prove it-and the motors, too. I've kept them for a long time.”

Judging by the appearance of the motors, that was true. Some were twenty years old, but all proved serviceable when attached to the loaded boats. The four boats that formed the strange flotilla started out at a slow but steady speed down the narrow jungle river that marked the first stage of a long, adventurous journey.

Each boat carried a crew of three. Biff and Kamuka were in one boat with Mr. Brewster. Jacome and a Wai Wai Indian were in another with Hal Whitman. The third boat was Nara's, with Igo and Ubi as its crew. The fourth, which served as a kitchen boat and carried the food supply, was manned by three Wai Wai tribesmen.

The packs, which included tents and other equipment, were in the boats commanded by Mr. Brewster and Mr. Whitman. The ore from the mine was mostly in Nara's boat, which squatted lower in the water due to its added weight. But it maintained the same speed as the other craft for the simple but sufficient reason that Nara had equipped it with the largest of his old-model motors.

The containers of gasoline were distributed among the boats, and all were careful not to waste any of the precious fuel. At times, they used the oars or let the current carry them. When they encountered chan- 142 .

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