CHAPTER THIRTY ONE.

  FATHER AND SON.

  When Cyril opened his eyes and began to look about, his head was achingviolently, and a swimming sensation made everything near him look mistyand indistinct. But he was conscious that the sun was shining brightlyall around, and that he was lying in the shade cast by a tree, whosefoliage was so familiar that he closed his eyes again to think andwonder whether he was dreaming.

  For that was unmistakably a cinchona tree, one of those he had thoughtabout so much of late.

  He opened his eyes again, and looked round to see that there wereseveral mules about grazing on the rich grass, and there was a peculiarodour in the air which he knew to be caused by burning wood.

  A low buzz of conversation was going on, too, somewhere close behindhim, and he tried to look round, but the movement gave him so much painthat he let his head sink down, uttering a weary sigh, which wasevidently heard, for there was a rustling sound behind him, and some onecame and bent down and took his hand, at the same time laying anotherupon his forehead and gazing into his eyes.

  For some moments nothing was said; Cyril, with his heart beatingheavily, gazing up into the eyes that looked down into his, while hewondered more than ever what it all meant.

  "Don't you know me, my boy?" was said at last, and a half-hysterical cryescaped the lad's lips as he clung to the hand which grasped his.

  "Yes, father! But--but what does it all mean?"

  "That you must lie still and rest for a bit. You have had a nasty blowon the head, but you will soon be better."

  "But--where are we?--where is Perry, and where is the colonel? I can'tthink, but I don't understand why you are here."

  "You can ask yourself that last question by-and-by, my lad."

  Cyril shrank a little, for those words were more potent than anyreproach, and Captain Norton went on:

  "You were asking about your friends. They are all here, but have beenhurt more or less. We only came up just in time."

  "You came up--just in time? Oh, I remember now. We were fighting andtrying to escape, and somebody fired. Was it you, father?"

  "Yes, my lad, my friends and I. If we had not arrived as we did, I'mafraid that there would have been a tragedy here in this valley, for theIndians were roused, and I believe that you would none of you have livedto see another day."

  "And the Indians: where are they now?"

  "Far away, my lad. They will not face firearms."

  "But you came, father--after me?"

  "Of course, as soon as I grasped the fact that you had followed ColonelCampion. At first I would not think it possible that my son could treatus at home as you had; but when, from a man who had come over themountains with a llama train, I learned that he had seen you, I did whatI felt it to be my duty to do for your mother's sake."

  Cyril's hands went up to his face for a few moments, and then they weregently pressed aside.

  "This is no time for blaming you, Cyril," said the captain gently; "youare injured. Get well, my boy. But you asked me how I came here. Assoon as I knew that you were with Colonel Campion, I got the help of twoor three friends, and our servants, and we obtained mules and came on insearch of you. I did so, for, in addition to my duty to you, I repentedletting a brother-officer come upon what I felt more and more was anexceedingly risky expedition. It has proved so, has it not?"

  "I'm afraid so, father," sighed Cyril. "Would the Indians have killedus?"

  "It seems so. You were utterly outnumbered, and from what I can gather,I suppose they believe you were hunting for and had found some of theold treasures buried here in the mountains."

  "Oh no," cried Cyril; "they were quite wrong."

  And he explained the object of the colonel's mission.

  "They would not believe that, my boy, though they would have been justas ready to stop anything of the kind. I found, on tracing you to theircamp, that you had come down in this direction, and the man who acted asour guide gathered that there was some trouble on the way, and thus mademe hurry on after you. I should have come up with your party sooner,only three times over we were tricked into following another track, ourguide proving perfectly untrustworthy directly after he had been incommunication with the people at the back camp. However, I came up withyou in time, just as a fierce fight was going on, and your party werebeing worsted. A few shots drove the Indians off, and for the presentwe are safe."

  "And the mules and their loads?"

  "There are our mules," said the captain quietly.

  "No, no; I mean ours," cried Cyril.

  "I have seen no others. There are none here."

  "But they've taken the kinia seed that the colonel came to collect. Wemust go and attack them at once."

  "We must get from here on to the regular track through the mountains assoon as we can, my boy," said the captain sternly. "We do not knowwhether we may not ourselves be attacked by a strong body of theIndians. I cannot do as I like, for I must study my friends; but if Icould, I would not run any risk in the face of such odds: so if ColonelCampion can by any possibility sit a mule, we shall begin our retreat atonce. What? Can you stand?"

  "Yes, father. Only a little giddy; and I want to see the colonel andJohn Manning."

  For Cyril had raised himself to his feet, and his father led him at onceto where his companions lay close by, where their rescuers had formedtheir temporary camp, and were now making a hearty meal.

  Perry was lying back with his head bandaged, John Manning was sufferingfrom a severe knife wound, and the colonel lay looking very hollow ofcheek, for he also in the fight had received a bad knife thrust, and toCyril it seemed that it would be impossible for the party to begin theirretreat for some days to come.

  But as soon as he awoke, the colonel declared himself able to sit amule, and John Manning insisted upon the hurt he had received beingmerely a scratch; so, as the case was urgent, a start was made that sameafternoon, and a few miles made before they were overtaken by night, andencamped, setting a careful watch in case of attack.

  But none came, the lesson given by Captain Norton quelling all presentdesire for a closer acquaintance with the firearms; and soon afterdaybreak they were once more in motion, the leader retracing the waytaken by his friends in their attempted escape till they were close upto the cinchona camp, which they found deserted.

  A long halt was necessary here on account of the injured party, but twodays later they were on their way again, after a long consultationbetween Colonel Campion and their friends.

  "Did you hear what was said?" asked Perry, as he and Cyril rode side byside wherever the track would allow.

  "Yes, everything; your father wanted to stay here for a bit and make anexpedition or two in search of the Indians, so as to try and recover thebaggage and mules."

  "Of course," said Perry. "It's horrible to go back like this, regularlybeaten. But they wouldn't?"

  "No: my father said he was willing, but the rest would not. They saidthey had come to help to save all our lives, and bring me back, but theywere not going to risk their own any more to satisfy--"

  "Well, satisfy what?" said Perry, for his companion checked himself.

  "Like to know?"

  "Of course."

  "Satisfy your father's mad-brained ideas."

  "Mad-brained indeed!" cried Perry indignantly. "And didn't father saythey must go?"

  "No," replied Cyril, laughing, "because he had no authority, and he wasperfectly helpless. You see he couldn't go himself."

  "I only wish he was strong enough," cried Perry. "He would soon showsome of them."

  "Hasn't he shown them enough? My father's right."

  "What, in giving up?" cried Perry indignantly.

  "No, in behaving like a good soldier, and drawing off his forces when heis beaten. Father told him that it was folly to go on now in hishelpless state. That, injured as he was, he would kill himself and youand your man too, for you had neither mules, provisions, nor weapons,and that the
only thing to do was to go back."

  "And what did my father say?" cried Perry hotly.

  "Nothing. He only held out his hand without speaking, and they stoodfor half a minute."

  "But it's horrid to be beaten and go back like this, robbed of all ourbelongings, and just too when we had succeeded so well. The cowards!All that party against us. I feel as if I couldn't go back to SanGeronimo."

  "So do I," said Cyril dolefully.

  "You? What have you got to mind?"

  "What have I got to mind? All that my father will say when we get back,though I don't worry about that so much."

  "What, then?"

  "I've got to meet my mother."

  "Well, but she won't say anything unkind to you."

  "No," said Cyril sadly, "not a word; but she'll look at me as I oftenseem to see her looking at me now, and asking me how I could behave socruelly to her. It half killed her, father says, for my boat wasmissing for a fortnight. One of the fishermen had taken it away, andshe thought I had gone out in her, and was drowned."

  Perry was silent, and soon after the boys had to separate, and ride insingle file about the middle of the little line, Captain Norton and twoof his friends forming the rearguard, in case of attack.

  But though the return journey was very slow, on account of the weaknessof the injured part of the little caravan, and there was everyopportunity for the Indians to fall upon them had they been so disposed,they went on, day after day, unmolested, and their nights wereundisturbed.

  Those long narrow shelves of rock at the sides of the defiles seemed asif they would never end, but the clear crisp mountain air was wonderfulin its curative effects; and while Perry was quite well again, and Cyrilhad about forgotten his injury, Colonel Campion and John Manning, thoughboth thin of face, and generally a good deal pulled down, were strongenough to walk down--at the close of the last day's journey--the longslope which led to Captain Norton's house on its platform high above thesea.

  "Where's Cyril?" said Perry suddenly to Captain Norton. "I haven't seenhim these two hours."

  Captain Norton stopped at the edge of the narrow path, and pointed downto the dry-looking garden at the back of his house, where the tall,tapering flagstaff stood up, with the British colours fluttering in thesea-breeze.

  Perry shaded his eyes, and through the clear evening air he coulddistinctly see his companion standing by a lady, and looking up at thelittle mule train filing down the slope.

  "Why, he has run on home!"

  "Yes," said the captain. "I sent him on to meet his mother alone.Perry, my lad, for the sake of all who hold you dear, never be guilty ofsuch a selfish, thoughtless act as his."

  "I'll try not," replied the boy thoughtfully; and then in an animatedway: "But, I say, Captain Norton, if it had not been for his thoughtlessact, where would we three have been now?"

  The captain smiled and looked at the colonel, who had heard all that hadbeen said.

  "That's a question I would rather not try to answer, my lad. There, nomore: I've promised Cyril to bury the past."

  Weak as he still was from his injuries, and smarting from the bitterdisappointment of his failure, Colonel Campion seized the firstopportunity which occurred of getting a passage up to Panama, the twoboys parting with many promises of keeping up a correspondence, whichwere none too faithfully fulfilled. Perry wrote from Panama, and againfrom Barbadoes on the way home. Then three years elapsed before Cyrilhad a letter, though Captain Norton had heard again and again from hisfriend the colonel.

  Here is a portion of the letter Cyril received:

  "I don't suppose they will do it, but I think they ought to make myfather F.L.S. and F.R.S. and F.G.S., and all the rest of it, besidesknighting him. For only think, in spite of all the disappointment oflosing the packages of seed we so carefully made up, the little lots wehad in our pockets, including those you gave me at San Geronimo out ofyours--I mean that day on board the packet, when you said, `You may aswell take these, for they're no use to me--' I say, all these weredistributed and set, and with the exception of one lot, pretty well allgrew, and they have made small plantations in Java, Ceylon, India, andone or two other places, so that in the course of time there'll bequinine in plenty in hot places all over the world. Which lot do youthink it was failed? You, in your modesty, will say your own. Not it,but mine; and I'll tell you how it was--through my fall down into thathorrid place. The seed was of course soaked, and it went off mouldy, Isuppose. At all events, none of it grew."

  "Hah!" exclaimed Captain Norton as he heard the letter read. "It was adaring thing to do--a brave soldier's deed. How many poor wretches inthe future who struggle back from some deadly fever will ever hear of orbless his name? Hardly one."

  "But we shall have the satisfaction, father, of knowing that we helpedto save them all the same."

  "Right, boy," cried the captain, bringing his hand heavily down upon hisson's shoulder. "You did your share, and it would be a poor worldindeed if we did all our good actions for the sake of the reward."

  "But mine was not a good action, father," said Cyril gravely.

  "Ah, well," said his father, "it is a matter of the past. I made you apromise then, and we will not argue that."

  The End.

 
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