Real Gold: A Story of Adventure

“Now then,” continued the colonel sharply, as if he were addressing a delegate from a mutinous company of his old regiment, “why have you brought all these men after me, sir? – Interpret quickly, Cyril.”

This was done, and the man’s voice trembled as he answered.

“He says they made him come, sir,” said Cyril.

“Which is a lie,” cried John Manning; “for he has been dodging us all the time.”

“Silence there. ’Tention!” cried the colonel harshly, and the old soldier drew himself up smartly, lowered and then shouldered arms, just as if he had been on parade.

It was a trifle, but it had its effect upon the Indians, giving them a great idea of the importance of the colonel, who stood there, erect and stern, issuing his orders; and in their eyes he was a great white chief, if not a king.

“Now,” he said sharply, “let that boy ask him what these people want.”

Cyril interpreted and obtained his answer, the peril of their position sharpening the boy’s faculties, and making him snatch at words of which he was in doubt.

“They have come,” said Cyril, “to see why you are here. They say you have no right to come amongst the kina gatherers, and that you must go back to the coast at once.”

“Indeed!” said the colonel haughtily. “We shall see about that. Tell them, boy, that I am the English chief of a great white queen; that I have come into this country to examine it and its products, and that I will shoot dead with this piece the first man who dares to interfere with me and mine.”

“Hear, hear!” growled John Manning.

“Silence in the ranks,” cried the colonel sharply; while, gaining confidence, Cyril’s voice partook somewhat of his leader’s imperious command, as he repeated the words as loudly as he could, so that all might hear.

There was a low fierce murmur from the little crowd, which was now augmented by the bark peelers, who closed the English party up from the rear.

“What do they say?” cried the colonel, taking a step forward, and cocking his piece at the same moment.

“That they will make us prisoners, sir,” said Cyril.

“Who dared say that?” roared the colonel, and taking another step forward, he looked fiercely round, with the result that to a man the Indians bent their heads before him, and not one dared look him in the face.

“Hah!” he ejaculated, “that is better. Now tell them I wish to see the kina gathered and prepared.”

Cyril gave the interpretation of his words, and Diego and an old Indian came humbly forward and laid down their bows and arrows at his feet.

The colonel took a step and planted his foot upon the weapons. Then drawing back, he pointed down.

“Pick them up!” he said sternly in English, and repeated the words in Spanish, when a low murmur of satisfaction arose, and the men stooped, lifted their weapons, and then making deprecating signs, they led the way into the clearing where the cinchona trees had been cut down, and the people had been busy collecting and drying the bark.

The colonel went on first, and Cyril and John Manning next, followed by Perry and Diego.

“It does one good, Master Cyril,” whispered John Manning, “it does one good again, my lad. That’s the sort of man the colonel is. Fit for a king, every inch of him. There ain’t many men as would have faced a body of savage Indians with their bows and arrows like that. He’s the right sort of stuff, ain’t he? and yet they let him leave the army and go on half-pay.”

“Yes, but do you think there will be any treachery?” replied Cyril.

“No, sir, I don’t, so long as we show ’em we mean to keep the upper hand of ’em. They daren’t. They know the colonel meant what he said, and felt that every word he said was true, and that a big chief had come among ’em.”

“Yes, I could see that,” said Cyril.

“My word, he was like a lion among a lot o’ them big, long-necked sheep, sir; and you did your part of it splendidly.”

“I did?” said Cyril, looking at the man in wonder.

“Yes, you, sir. I only wish our Master Perry would speak up as bold.”

“Why, John Manning,” said Cyril, half laughing, “if you only knew how I felt.”

“I do, sir.”

“Not you, or you would not talk like that.”

“I tell you I do, sir. You felt just as I did first time I went into action, and heard the bullets go whizzing by like bees in the air, and saw some of them sting the poor fellows, who kept on dropping here and there, many of ’em never to get up again. I thought I was in a terrible fright, and that I was such a miserable coward I ought to be drummed out of the regiment; but it couldn’t have been fright, only not being used to it; and I couldn’t have been a coward, because I was in the front rank all the time, close alongside of your father; and when we’d charged and driven the enemy flying, the colonel clapped me on the shoulder and said he’d never seen a braver bit of work in his life, and of course he ought to know.”

“I did feel horribly frightened, though,” said Cyril.

“Thought you did, sir, that was all. You couldn’t have done it better.”

“I don’t know,” said the boy, smiling. “Suppose the Indians had found me out?”

“Found you out, sir? Bah! If it comes to the worst, they’ll find out you can fight as well as talk. Now, just look here, sir; didn’t you ever have a set to at school, when you were at home in England?”

“Yes, two or three.”

“And didn’t you feel shimmery-whimmery before you began?”

“Yes.”

“And as soon as you were hurt, forgot all that, and went in and whipped.”

“Well, yes, I suppose so.”

“Of course you did, sir. That’s human nature, that is. But, I say, Mr Cyril, sir, what does it all mean? Why has the colonel come out here? He can’t have come just to see people cut down a few trees and peel off the bark.”

“I begin to think he has.”

“But I could have taken him down in Surrey, sir, and showed him into woods where they were doing all that to the oak trees, without coming out here, or running any risks of getting an arrow sent through you, just as if you was a chicken got ready to roast.”

“I don’t quite understand it yet,” said Cyril; “but don’t talk any more now. Look, look! what is he going to do?”

Chapter Thirteen

In Treasure Land

They were by this time close up in front of the huts of the bark gatherers, when all at once one of the huge condors came swooping along overhead, looking gigantic up against the sky. And then it was as if a sudden idea had struck the colonel, who raised his piece, took aim, lowered it, and hesitated; for the huge bird was at a great distance, and the people looked at him wonderingly. The next moment his rifle was at his shoulder again, there was the flash and puff of white smoke, the sharp crack, and the rumbling echoing roar in the mountains, as the condor was seen to swerve and then dart straight upward.

“Missed!” muttered John Manning, “but he felt the bullet.”

“Hit!” cried Cyril excitedly, for all at once the bird’s wings closed, and it fell over and over and then dropped like a stone, crashing in among the trees about a hundred yards away.

The Indians had looked on at first incredulously, and several of them exchanged glances as the condor shot upward as if to escape unharmed; but the moment it turned over and began to fall, they set up a loud shout and rushed off to pick up the fallen bird, the whole crowd making for the dense patch of forest, and then walking back steadily, bearing the bird in triumph.

“Rather a risky thing to do, boys,” said the colonel, reloading as he spoke. “If I had missed, I should have done harm to the position we have made in these people’s estimation. But I felt that I could hit the bird, and now they will believe that I may prove a terrible enemy in anger.”

“Do it? Of course he could,” whispered John Manning. “I’ve known him take a rifle from one of our men lots of times, and pick off one of the Beloochees who was doing no end of mischief in our ranks up in the mountains.”

By this time the Indians were back, looking full of excitement, and ready almost to worship the white chief who had come amongst them, with such power of life and death in his hands – powers beside which their bows and arrows and poison-dealing blowpipes seemed to them to be pitiful in the extreme. They laid the body of the great bird, which was stone-dead, at his feet, and then looked at him wonderingly, as if to say, “What next?”

That shot had the effect which the colonel had intended to produce, for to a man the Indians felt the terrible power their white visitor held in his hand, and each felt that he might be the object of his vengeance if any attack was made.

But Colonel Campion felt that the effect was only likely to be temporary, and that he must gain the object for which he had made his perilous journey as quickly as possible, and begin to return before the impression had worn off.

Bidding Cyril then tell their guide that he should camp there for a few days, he sent the two men back for the mules, giving orders that they should take a couple of the Indians who had followed them to help.

His manner carried the day, and the party of four departed.

“I suppose it’s all right, Master Cyril,” whispered John Manning; “but I should have thought we’d ha’ done better by fortifying our own camp, and not running our heads right into the lion’s mouth; but the colonel knows best, and we’ve only got to obey orders.”

Certainly that seemed to be the safest course to pursue – a bold one; so in this spirit, and as if the colonel felt that there was nothing whatever to be feared from the people, the mules and packages were brought up. A snugly-sheltered spot was selected, close to a spring which came gushing from the rock, and a fresh camp made; the party going and coming among the cinchona gatherers as if they were invited visitors; while the Indians themselves looked puzzled, and watched every action from a distance.

That night, beside the fire, surrounded by the dense growth of the life-preserving trees he had sought, the colonel became more communicative.

“You boys have, I daresay, canvassed why I undertook this expedition,” he said, “and, I suppose, took it for granted that I came in search of the gold supposed to be hidden by the Peruvians, to save it from the rapacity of the Spaniards.”

“Yes, sir; that’s what I thought,” said Cyril.

“Or else to find one of the di’mond walleys,” growled John Manning.

“This is not the right direction for them, my man,” said the colonel, smiling. “You have to seek for them between the leaves of books. No, boys; I came to seek something of far greater value to my fellow-creatures than a buried store of yellow metal, which may or may not exist. It is possible that a number of the sacred vessels from some of the old temples may have been hidden by the priests, who, at their death, handed down the secret to their successors; but I think it is far more likely to be a fable. Still, the Indians believe in it, and if they knew that a discovery had been made, they would destroy the lives of the finders, sooner than that the gold should be taken out of the country.”

“Then you have not come to find the gold, sir?” said Cyril; while Perry lay there upon his chest, resting his chin upon his hands, and elbows on the earth, gazing up in his father’s face.

“No, boy; I have come, and I am running some risks, I know, to drag out into the light of day the wondrous medicine which has saved the lives of hundreds of thousands, and made it possible for men to exist in the fever-haunted countries spread around the globe.”

“You mean quinine,” said Cyril. “Father always keeps a bottle in his desk.”

“Yes, I mean quinine, the beautiful crystals obtained from the bark of these trees, boy; the medicine kept so jealously guarded here, the only place where it is produced, high up on the eastern slope of these mountains. I have come to seek it, and have found it far more easily than I expected: we are sitting and lying here right in the middle of one of the cinchona groves.”

“But we can’t take away much, father, even if they will let us,” said Perry.

“Wrong, boy. I hope that we shall be able to bear away, unseen, enough to stock the world, and to make the drug, which is a blessing to humanity, plentiful, instead of civilised Europe having to depend upon the supply from here – from this carefully-guarded place.”

“You mean to take away some young trees,” said Cyril excitedly.

“I should like to do so, but that is a doubtful way, my boy. The young trees would be awkward to carry, and transplanting trees often means killing them. We must try something better than that, though. I shall see what I can do in making one bundle, with the roots carefully bound up in damp moss.”

“Yes, we might do that,” assented Cyril, “but we didn’t bring a spade.”

“Let us find some tiny trees, and we’ll do without a spade,” said the colonel quietly. “But I am in this position, boys. I know very little about the trees we see around us. That they are the right ones there can be no doubt, for the Indians are camped here, cutting them down, and peeling off and drying the bark. There are several kinds which produce inferior kinds of quinine; but these laurel-like evergreen trees produce the true, the best Peruvian bark; and it is to take away the means of propagating these trees in suitable hot mountainous colonies of our own, that we are here. Now, how is it to be done?”

“Indians won’t let it be done, sir,” said Manning. “Here, I know lots o’ places up Simla way where it would grow fine. Up there, north o’ Calcutta, sir.”

“Yes; there are spots there where it might be grown, or in the mountains of Ceylon,” said the colonel; “but we have to get it there.”

“I know,” said Cyril. “Let’s get heaps of seed. Why, we might till our pockets that way.”

“Yes; that is my great hope, boys; so, whenever you see seed-pods or berries nearly ripe, secure them. But we are surrounded by difficulties. We may be here at the wrong time of year, though I calculated that as well as I could; and now that we are here, I have been terribly disappointed, for so far, instead of seeing seed, I have noted nothing but the blossoms. It is as if we are too early, though I hope these are only a second crop of flowers, and that we may find seed after all.”

“But these sweet-smelling flowers, something like small lilac, are not the blossoms of the trees, are they?” said Perry.

“Yes, those are they,” said the colonel. “Now my secret is out, and you know what we have to do. – Well, Manning, what is it?”

“My old father had a garden, sir, and he used to grow little shrubs by cutting up roots in little bits, which were often dry as a bone when he put them in, but they used to grow.”

“Yes,” said the colonel. “Quite right; and now we are here, in spite of all opposition, we must take away with us seeds, cuttings of twigs, and roots, and if possible, and we can find them, a number of the tiny seedlings which spring up beneath the old trees from the scattered seed. There, that is our work, and all must help. – Do you hear, Manning?”

“Oh yes, sir, I hear, and if you show me exactly what you want, I’ll do my best; but, begging your pardon, sir, ain’t it taking a deal o’ trouble for very small gains?”

“No, my man, the reward will be incalculable.”

“All right, sir, you know best. I’ll do what you tell me, and when we’ve got what we want, I’ll fight for it. That’s more in my way. But, begging your pardon once more, wouldn’t it be better for you to go to the head-man, and say, through Master Cyril here: ‘Look here, young fellow, we’ve come a long journey to get some seed and young plants of this stuff; can’t you make a sort of trade of it, and sell us a few pen’orth civilly.’”

The colonel laughed.

“No. They will not let us take a seed out of the country if they can prevent it. I will tell you all the worst at once. They will make a bold effort to master the dread with which I have succeeded in inspiring them, and fight desperately to stop us when we get our little store.”

“Then, begging your pardon again, colonel, wouldn’t it ha’ been better to have come with a couple of companies of foot, and marched up with fixed bayonets, and told him that you didn’t mean to stand any nonsense, but were going to take as much seed as you liked?”

“Invited the rulers of the country to send a little army after us?”

“Yes, of course, sir; but they’ve got no soldiers out here as could face British Grenadiers.”

The colonel was ready to listen to every opinion that night, and he replied quietly:

“I thought it all out before I started, and this was the only way – to come up into the mountains as simple travellers, reach the hot slopes and valley regions where the cinchona grows, and then trust to our good fortune to get a good supply of the seed. But, even now, from our start from San Geronimo we have been watched. You have noticed it too, boys. Even the guide we took has arrayed himself against us from the first, and, while seeming to obey my orders, has taken care to communicate with every one we passed that he was suspicious of my motives. Every mile we have come through the mountain-range has been noted, and will be noted, till we get back.”

“Why not go back, then, some other way, sir?”

“Because we cannot cross the mountains where we please. The road we followed is one which, no doubt, dates from the days when the Incas ruled, and there are others here and there at intervals, but they will be of no use to us. Somehow or other, we must go back by the way we came, and I hope to take at least one mule-load with us to get safely to England. There, that is enough for to-night. Now for a good rest and we shall see what to-morrow brings forth. Cyril and Perry, you will be on sentry till as near midnight as you can guess, and then rouse me. I’m going now to take a look round at the mules, and then I shall lie down.”

He rose and walked away to where the mules were cropping the grass, which grew abundantly in the open places, and as soon as he was out of hearing, John Manning began to growl.

“All right, young gentlemen,” he said, “I’m ready for anything; but, of all the wild scarum-harum games I was ever in, this is about the wildest. Come up here to steal stuff! for that’s what it is, and you can’t call it anything else. I’ve know’d people steal every mortal thing nearly, from a horse down to a pocket-knife. I’ve been where the niggers tickled you when you was asleep and made you roll over, so that they could steal the blanket you lay upon. I’ve seen the crows in Indy steal the food out of the dogs’ mouths; but this beats everything.”

“Why?” said Perry shortly.

“Why, sir? Because physic’s a thing as everybody’s willing enough to give to someone else; I didn’t think it was a thing as anybody would ever dream o’ stealing. As you may say, it’s a thing as couldn’t be stole.”

“Father knows what he is about,” said Perry shortly.

“Course he does, sir. Nobody denies that. We’ve got to begin taking physic with a vengeance. All right: I’m ready. And I was thinking all the time as we should bring back those four-legged jackasses loaded with gold and precious stones. All right, gentlemen. As I said before, I’m ready; and it’s a good beginning for me, for I shall get a long night’s rest; so here goes.”

He rolled himself in his blanket, then lay down with his feet near the fire, and began to breathe the heavy breath of a sleeper the next minute.

“Well, Cil,” said Perry, “what do you think of it?”

“Don’t know,” said Cyril. “Yes, I do. They’re wonderfully watchful over the bark, and as soon as they know what we are after, they’ll stop us.”

“Then we must not let them see what we are after, my lad,” said the colonel, who had returned unseen. “We must collect plants and flowers of all kinds, and load a couple of the mules. That will help to disarm suspicion. – Pieces loaded?”

“Yes, sir.”

“That’s right. We must keep military watch now regularly; but there will be nothing to fear to-night.”

Chapter Fourteen

The Night-Watch

Those were very encouraging words, and they seemed to tingle in the boys’ ears as the colonel followed his servant’s example, rolled a blanket about his shoulders, and lay down with his head resting on one of the mules’ loads; but the impression soon died away, leaving the lads close together, with their guns resting on the grass, listening in the deep silence of the starlit night, and for some time without speaking a word.

“Come a little farther away,” whispered Perry at last. “I want to talk.”

They moved a few yards away from the sleepers, and stopped beneath a great spreading tree at about equal distance from the colonel and the fire, which glowed faintly, but gave sufficient light for them to see Diego and the other Indian squatted down, making tents of their long garments, and with their chins bent down upon their breasts; but whether asleep, or waking and watchful, it was impossible to say.

“Well?” said Perry at last, after they had been straining their ears to catch different sounds, now the trickling murmur of falling water, now some strange cry from far away in the woods, or the whisper of a breeze which came down from the mountains to pass away among the trees.

“Well?” said Cyril.

“Isn’t it awfully quiet?”

“Yes.”

“Look over there, just to the left of the fire. Isn’t that some one watching us?”

“Tree trunk,” said Cyril laconically.

There was a pause, and then Perry whispered again.

“I say, I don’t want to be cowardly, but there’s some one coming slowly through the trees. I caught a glimpse of his back. He’s stooping down – there, between those two big trunks, where it’s open. Don’t you see – stooping?”

“Yes, I see, and nibbling the grass as he comes. One of the mules.”

Perry shaded his eyes – needlessly, for there was no glare to shut out – and he soon convinced himself that his companion was right.

But he felt annoyed, and said testily:

“I wish you wouldn’t be so ready to contradict everything I say.”

Cyril laughed softly.

“Why, you didn’t want it to be an enemy, did you?”

Perry made no reply, and they stood for some time together in silence, listening to the crop, crop sound made by the mules, and the whispering sighs of the wind, which came down sharp and chill from the mountains. At last Cyril spoke again.

“Let’s walk round the camp.”

“You can’t for the trees.”

“Oh yes, we can. It’s cold standing here. We’ll work in and out of the trees, and make a regular path round. It will be better than standing still.”

“Very well,” said Perry shortly. “Go on first.”

Cyril shouldered his piece and stepped off cautiously for a couple of dozen yards, and then struck off to the left, meaning to make the fire act as a centre round which they could walk, keeping guard and themselves warm; but before he had gone many steps he stopped short.

“Look here,” he whispered, “you are a soldier’s son, and ought to teach me what to do in keeping guard.”

“There’s nothing to teach,” said Perry. “All you’ve got to do is to keep a sharp lookout.”

“Yes, there is. If we keep together like this, we leave a lot of the camp exposed. What we ought to do is for one to go one way, and one the other; then meet, cross, and go on again. It would be far better.”

“But then we should be alone so long. We had better keep together.”

“Very well,” said Cyril shortly; but he owned to himself that he felt better satisfied, for it was lonely, depressing work there in the darkness.

Cyril stepped forward again, going slowly and carefully through the thick growth, making as little noise as possible, and trying to keep as nearly as possible to the same distance from the fire – no easy task, by the way – but he had not gone far before he stopped short and started aside, bringing his gun down to the present. For, all at once, from out of the darkness, some one seemed to strike at him, the blow cutting through the twigs and leaves by which he was surrounded with a loud whistling noise, while the stroke was so near, that he felt the air move close to his face.

“Fire – fire!” whispered Perry excitedly.

“What at? I can’t see any one,” replied Cyril, as he stood with his finger on the trigger.

He felt his heart beat with a heavy throb, and his hands grew moist, as he tried hard to pierce the darkness, and fix his eyes upon the enemy who had made so cowardly a blow at him; but the thick branches shut out every ray of light, and the silence was now painful in the extreme. The position was the more startling from the fact that neither could tell from which side the next blow would come.