Real Gold: A Story of Adventure

  CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.

  PERRY'S PERIL.

  "There isn't much to tell," said the boy with a shiver.

  "Never mind; tell me: I want to know. What's the matter--cold?"

  "No, I'm warm enough now," said Perry, "for my clothes have got dry; butit makes me shiver as soon as I think about it, and I feel as if Ialways shall. It's a thing I shall dream about of a night, and wake upfeeling the water strangling me."

  Cyril looked at him in wonder, and the boy tried to smile, but it was avery pitiful attempt, and he went on hurriedly.

  "You know how horrible all that was when I felt sure that my father hadgone down somewhere, and something forced me to go and try to find him.And then, as I went on through the mist, I only took three or four stepsbefore my feet gave way, and I was sliding at a terrible rate down, downto where the water was thundering and roaring."

  "Was it very deep?" said Cyril, for his companion paused.

  "I don't know; I seemed to be sliding along very fast, and then I wasfighting for breath, and being dashed here and there, and I suppose Iwas carried along by the water almost as swiftly as I slid down thatdreadful slope. Then, after fighting for my breath, all was confusionand darkness, and I can't remember any more till I found myself lyingamong some rocks. The water was rushing and foaming over my legs, andevery now and then rushing up over my chest, and making me feel so infear of being drowned that I climbed a little, and then a little more,till I was out of the water, but afraid to move in the darkness in caseI should fall in again."

  "Where were you?" said Cyril.

  "I didn't know then, but lay aching with the cold, and listening to therushing water; while it was so dark, that I felt sure that I must havebeen washed into some great hole underground, where I should lie till Iwas dead."

  "We felt all kinds of horrors about you," said Cyril, "but you seem tohave suffered more than we did."

  "I don't know," said Perry plaintively. "It was very bad, though, andif I hadn't fallen at last into a sort of stupor, I've thought sincethat I should have gone mad."

  "Stupor!" said Cyril, smiling. "You mean you went to sleep."

  Perry looked at him so reproachfully that Cyril felt the blood flushinto his cheeks, and the colour deepened as his companion said: "Howcould a fellow go to sleep when he believes his father has been killed,and he has himself just escaped from a horrible death?"

  "Don't take any notice of what I said," cried Cyril hurriedly; "I didnot mean it."

  "I know you did not. I suppose it was from being so exhausted. I feltas if I had been stunned, and could neither think nor stir, and thenthis curious feeling came over me, and everything passed away. It wasnot sleep."

  "No, no; don't say that again," cried Cyril apologetically. "How longwere you like that?"

  "I don't know, only that it was still dark when I came to, and satwondering where I was, and whether I should ever see the light again, somiserable and desolate you cannot think."

  "Yes, I can," said Cyril warmly; "I felt bad, too, when I thought youwere drowned, and went down to try to find you."

  "What!" cried Perry excitedly. "You went down to try to find me?"

  "Oh yes," said Cyril coolly. "Didn't you know? They put a rope roundme and let me down."

  "Cil!"

  "Well, don't make a fuss about it," said Cyril, laughing. "They hadhold of the rope."

  "But the place was so awful. Didn't you feel frightened?"

  "Horribly, of course, and it was ever so much worse when I'd got to theend of the rope, and felt that you must be gone. But never mind that.Go on. You were saying how miserable you were."

  "Yes," said Perry thoughtfully, "till all at once I caught sight ofsomething high up, just as if it was a point of light coming through acrack in the roof of the cavern into which I had been washed."

  "And was it?"

  "No," said the boy, with his eyes brightening, "it was the first lightof morning shining miles up on the ice of one of the great peaks, and asI watched it, I saw it get brighter and then begin to glow as if it werea precious stone. The light gradually stole down lower and lower, tillit seemed to come right into my heart; and from that moment I began togrow strong and hopeful, and something seemed to tell me that I shouldsee you all again."

  "Hah!" ejaculated Cyril, as he watched his friend's countenance; "I wishsomething of that kind had come to me when I was feeling worst."

  "You weren't alone," said Perry, smiling. "Well, as soon as I foundthat I was just at the edge of a rushing torrent, I knew that if Ifollowed it up, I should come to the mouth of the gorge where you mustbe, and I began to climb along the side, getting warmer every minute;and I felt more hopeful too, for I began to think how clever my fatherwas, and that he would have been able to save himself, or have beensaved, just as I was."

  "And then you soon found the mouth of the gorge where the water cameout?"

  "Yes, and the place where we turned in last night, instead of goingright on down the main valley. It was quite a climb up to the path, butI dragged myself up; and just then I happened to turn my eyes along theway we came just as I was warmest, and then I turned cold again."

  "Because you saw the Indians?"

  Perry nodded, and the boys sat in silence for a few minutes, looking upat the sunlit sky, which appeared like a broad jagged path running alonghigh above their heads.

  "What are you thinking about?" said Perry suddenly, as he noted thethoughtful, deeply-lined brow of his companion.

  "Eh? Oh, nothing much," replied Cyril. "Only that when I knew you werecoming up into the mountains, I felt so jealous of you, and I fanciedthat you were coming to see all kinds of wonders and make greatdiscoveries, and that it would be one grand holiday, day after day, andinstead of that--I say, we haven't had so very much fun yet, have we?"

  "Plenty of adventures," replied Perry thoughtfully.

  "Yes, plenty of adventures."

  "It's been so hard upon you, though, from the first. You were so upsetwhen you joined us."

  "And serve me right," cried Cyril angrily. "I'd no business to do it; Ibelieve they think at home that I'm dead. Nothing's too bad to happento me."

  "Then you're sorry you came?"

  "Yes; horribly. I don't mind all we've gone through, because it hasseemed to stir me up so, and made me feel as if I'd got more stuff inme; and it ought to, for sometimes I've felt, since we came, that Ibehaved like a miserable, thoughtless coward."

  "No one could call you a coward," said Perry firmly.

  "Oh yes, they could--a miserable, selfish coward."

  "I should just like to hear any one call you one," said Perry viciously,and with a hard, fierce look in his countenance.

  "Then you soon shall," said Cyril. "I call myself one a dozen times aday. There, I'm a coward."

  "But I meant some one else."

  "You wait long enough, and you'll hear my father call me one."

  "You're not."

  "Yes, I am, and I shall deserve all he says--that is, if we ever getback to San Geronimo."

  "Don't talk like that," said Perry. "What's to prevent us?"

  "Indians," said Cyril mournfully.

  "But we've left them behind."

  "For a bit. They'll hunt us out again somewhere. They've got all theadvantage of us. I daresay there are thirty or forty of them huntingus, and what one doesn't know of the country, another does; and as theyspread out, they'll warn every Indian they meet, so as to run us down,for they're sure to feel now that we're after the buried treasures, andthey'll give us credit for having found them."

  "Why?"

  "Because we have escaped. Every pass will be guarded, and every valleysearched, so that they are sure to come across us at last.--Look,they're going to start. Come along." And picking up their guns, theboys joined the colonel and John Manning, who were tightening up theropes round two of the loads.

  "Better trust the leader, Manning," said the colonel.

  "Yes, sir. He seems as go
od as a guide; and if you set his headstraight, he'll take us somewhere; and where he goes, the others'llfollow. Rum thing, too, sir."

  "Oh, I don't know," said the colonel; "these animals have passed theirlives in the mountains."

  "Of course, sir, but I didn't mean that. I meant it was a rum thing forthem to follow their leader in this way, for they all hate him likepoison, and kick at him whenever they have a chance; and as for the wayhe kicks at them, I wonder sometimes he doesn't get his heels stuck intheir ribs, so that he can't get out no more. 'Tis their natur' to, eh,Master Cyril, sir?--Ah, would yer!"

  This to one of the mules, whose heels must have itched, for it wassoftly turning itself round as if seeking somewhere to administer a goodround kick.

  Then all was ready for a start; but first the colonel mounted the sideamong the rocks, to search the valley with his glass.

  He was soon satisfied that the Indians were nowhere within sight, andtaking advantage of the high position he occupied, he turned the glassin the other direction, to scan the way they were about to go.

  All there was utterly silent and desolate. There were the rockseverywhere, hardly relieved by a patch of green, and he was about todescend and start the mules, when he caught sight of Cyril hurrying backtoward him, and signing to him to stay where he was.

  "What is it?" he cried, as he saw the boy's anxious face.

  "Look up to your left, sir, just above where that big rock sticks outjust as if it must fall."

  "Yes, I see," said the colonel; "with another just above."

  "That's it, sir. Look just between those two blocks."

  "Yes, I have the place."

  "Well, sir, there are two Indians there watching us."

  "No, my lad, there are no Indians there. Take the glass and look foryourself."

  Cyril snatched the glass, directed it to the steep, precipitous side ofthe gorge, and then uttered an ejaculation full of annoyance.

  "They're gone, sir, but I'm sure there were two men there."

  "Then if so, they must be close to the same spot now. I hope you arewrong, but of course you may be right. Let's go on, and if they arethere, we shall be sure to catch sight of them, for they must go forwardor backward."

  "Would you go on?" said Cyril dubiously.

  "At any cost, boy. We cannot go back to that awful chasm to passanother night. There, back with you, but keep your eyes on the positionin which you saw the men."

  Cyril was silenced, and half ready to suppose that in his anxiety he haddeceived himself; and in a few minutes he was back with the colonel,beside Perry and the mules, but without seeing anything in the directionhe had pointed out.

  "Ready?"

  "Yes, sir, but my eyes are not quite so good as they were, sir, and Ifancied I saw some one creeping along the side of the rock, up yonder tothe right."

  "Left, John Manning," cried Cyril, "and I saw it too."

  "You saw something on your left, sir? Then I am right, and my eyes aretrue. There's Injuns watching us, sir, and if we don't look out, weshall have arrows sticking in our skins."