Part 18 (1/2)
”Nonsense, Tom--nonsense!” I cried; though I felt troubled, and a vague sense of uneasiness seemed to come over me.
”P'r'aps it is nonsense, Mas'r Harry--perhaps it ain't. But this here ain't Old England; so don't you get thinking as there's a policeman round every corner to come and help you, because there ain't, no more than there's a public-house round the corner to get half a pint when a fellow's tongue's dried up to his roof. So now let's understand one another, Mas'r Harry. You've got to keep close up to the house.”
”Nonsense!” I exclaimed. ”What good would that do? Look here, Tom, my good fellow: I know you are faithful and true-hearted, but you have been following me about till you have found a mare's nest and seen an enemy in every Indian. You must learn to keep your place, Tom, and not to interfere.”
Tom did not answer--he only looked sulky. Then, spitting in his hands, he rubbed them together, crawled out of the bush, stood up, let his gun fall into the hollow of his arm, and then thrusting his hands into his pockets, stood looking at me, as if prepared for the worst.
”Going any farther, Mas'r Harry?” he said as I rose.
”Yes,” I said, ”I'm going up this gorge.”
Then with Tom closely following, I climbed on till we were in a vast rift, whose sides were one ma.s.s of beautiful verdure spangled with bright blossoms. High overhead, towering up and up, were the mountains, whose snow-capped summits glistened and flashed in the sun, while the ridges and ravines were either glittering and gorgeous or shadowy and of a deep, rich purple, fading into the blackness of night.
I stopped gazing around at the platform above platform of rock rising above me, and thought of what a magnificent site one of the flat table-lands would make for a town, little thinking that once a rich city had flourished there. Even Tom seemed attracted by the beauty of the scene, for he stood gazing about till, seeing my intent, he came close behind me again, and together, with the traveller's love of treading the fresh and untried soil, we pressed on, climbing over loose fragments of rock, peering into the stream that bubbled musically down the bottom of the gorge, wending our way through the high growth of long tangled gra.s.s, till the gorge seemed to plunge into darkness, a huge eminence blocking the way, in whose face appeared a low, broad archway, forming the entrance to a tunnel, leading who could tell where?
Any attempt to follow another track was vain, as I soon perceived; for, as I saw, the gorge seemed to be continued beneath the archway, while right and left the rock was precipitous beyond the possibility of climbing even to the shelves, where ancient trees had securely rooted themselves in the spa.r.s.e soil, to hang over and lend their gloom to the sombre scene.
But in spite of its mystery there was a something attractive in the vast cavern, from which it now became evident the little river sprang; for it ran trickling out beneath the rocks we clambered over, till we stood gazing in towards the shadowy depth, listening to strange echoes of a murmuring rising and falling sound that dominated all the faint whispers that escaped, as it were, from time to time to the light of day.
”What do you think of this, Tom?” I said, after vainly trying to see the cavern's extent.
”Think, Mas'r Harry? Why, it looks to me like the front door to Bogyland. But do let's get back, sir; for I was never so hungry before in my life. I say stop, Mas'r Harry--what are you a-going to do?”
”Do! Why, go in and explore the place, to be sure, Tom,” I cried, beginning to climb the rocky barrier that barred the way into the cavern.
”No, I say, pray don't, Mas'r Harry!” cried Tom dolefully. ”I ain't afraid in the light, when you can see what you are doing, but I can't stand the dark, nohow. Don't go, Mas'r Harry. Think of what your poor mother would say.”
”Hold your tongue, will you, you great calf!” I exclaimed angrily.
For an intense desire seemed to come over me to explore this dim, shadowy region. For what might we not find there treasured? It might be the ante-chamber to some rich, forgotten mine--one of the natural storehouses from which the old Peruvians had been used to extract their vast treasures. There were riches inexhaustible in the bowels of the earth, I knew, and if this were one of the gates by which they could be reached, held back from causes induced by cowardice I would not be--I had too great a prize to win.
But before I had crossed this natural barrier to the entrance, reason told me that I must have light, and provision, and strength for the undertaking; and at that time I had neither. There was nothing for it then but to listen to the voice of reason, as personified by Tom; and with a sigh I climbed back just as he was going to join me.
I saw plainly enough that it must be nightfall before we could reach home; and, getting free of the rocks, I was musing, and wondering whether, after all, I had hit upon a discovery, when Tom whispered to me, with averted head, to look to the right under the trees.
I did so, and became aware of a shadowy figure slinking off amongst the bushes, but I took little heed of it then, trudging on as fast as the nature of the ground would allow; and at last, thoroughly worn out in body, but with my imagination heated, I reached the hacienda.
That evening, when I was alone with my uncle, I mentioned my discovery, and asked him if ever the cavern had been explored.
”Never that I am aware of, Harry,” he said quietly; ”and I don't think it would profit much the explorer. I have heard of the cave; it is a sort of sanctified place amongst the Indians, who people it with ghosts and goblins, such as they know how to invent. Let me see, what do they call the place in their barbarous tongue? Ah! I remember now-- Tehutlan. I had forgotten its very existence. One of the old Peruvian G.o.ds used to live there in olden times, I believe, as a sort of dragon to watch over the hidden treasures of the earth. You had better search there and bring some of them out, or catch the dragon himself; he would make your fortune as an exhibitor in New York.”
”And you think, Uncle, it has never been explored?” I said, without replying to his last remark.
”My dear boy, for goodness' sake give up dreaming and take to reality,”
he said pettishly. ”Explored? Yes. I remember how they say the Spaniards explored it, and butchered a lot of the poor Peruvians there like so many sheep, but they found nothing. Don't think about treasure-seeking, Hal--it's a mistake; fortunes have to be made by toil and scheming, not by haphazard proceedings; but all the same I must say,” he added musingly, ”they do tell of the golden ornaments and vessels of the sun-wors.h.i.+p hidden by the poor conquered people ages ago to preserve them from their greedy conquerors. Their places are known even now, they say, having been handed down from father to son.”
”But did you ever search?” I said eagerly.