CHAPTER TWENTY SIX.
AN UNWELCOME INTRUDER.
As they are now in the midst of amorphous darkness, it might be imaginednothing could be done but keep their place, or go groping idly about.Not so, however. Gaspar has no intention of letting the time pass insuch an unprofitable manner; instead, he at once resumes speech, andalong with it action.
"Now, young masters," he says, making a movement towards the place wherethey had left their horses, "since we are shut up here, I don't see whywe shouldn't make ourselves as comfortable as we can under thecircumstances; and the best way to begin will be with what's usually thewinding up of a day's work--that's supper. Our bit of rough riding hasgiven me the appetite of a wolf, and I feel as if I could eat onered-raw. Suppose we have another set-to at the shoulder of mutton?What say you, _senoritos_?"
They answer in the affirmative, both being as hungry as himself.
"We sha'n't have to eat in darkness either," he proceeds. "Luckily,I've brought with me a bit of candle--best wax at that. A costly affairit was when whole; being one of a pair I had to pay for when my poormother died, to be used at her funeral, and for which the rascally_padres_ charged me five _pesos_ a-piece--because consecrated, as theycalled out. As they stood me so much, I thought I might as well savethe stumps; which I did, and have got one of them here. Starting out,it occurred to me we might some time need it, as you see we do now; so Islipped it into my saddle-bags."
While speaking, he has moved on to his horse, and got beside him withoutmuch straying; for his former visit to the cavern has made him familiarwith its topography, and he could go anywhere through it without aglimmer of light to guide him. Plunging his hand into his ample_alparejas_, and rummaging about for a short while, he gets hold of thebit of unburnt candle--souvenir of a melancholy ceremony, which,however, he had long ceased to mourn over, since his mother has beendead for many years.
He has drawn it out; removed the scrap of buckskin in which it waswrapped; and with flint and steel is proceeding to strike a light, whena sound reaches his ears that causes him to suspend operations, andstand intently listening for its repetition.
Simultaneously has it been heard by the other two, as also by the threehorses; these last, on hearing it, showing their affright by a series ofsnorts, while they dance about over the floor of the cavern. For it isa sound which, heard in any part of tropical America, whether on sunlitplain or in shady forest, strikes terror to the heart of all who hearit, be it man, bird, or beast. No living creature in that land butdreads the cry of the jaguar.
"_El tigre_!" exclaims Gaspar in a subdued tone, his voice half-drownedby a second roar from the great feline, this time louder and moreprolonged.
"Where is it?" they ask one another hurriedly, and in whispers, fearingto speak out. For loud as is the creature's voice as it reverberatesthrough the hollow cavity, what with the bellowing of the wind and thetrampling of their horses' hoofs on the hard rock, it is impossible totell whence it came, and whether the jaguar be outside the cavern orwithin. About this there is a difference of opinion among them, butonly for an instant--all three agreeing, as for the third time theterrifying note is sounded. Then they believe it to have come fromoutside. But again they as quickly differ, at hearing a fourthrepetition of it; this as certainly seeming to have been uttered insidethe cavern. Once more changing their minds, when, for the fifth time,the beast gives out its grand roar; since along with it they hearanother sound as of some heavy body hurling itself against the screen ofspread ponchos, too solid to be mistaken for a puff of wind. Beyonddoubt, it is the tiger seeking admittance to the cave!
Though but a few minutes have elapsed since its first fierce note fellupon their ears, they have not stood idly listening. Instead, all threehave groped the way to their horses, got hold of their guns, andreturned to take stand near the entrance. Gaspar, moreover, has lit thestump of candle, and stuck it upon a projecting point of rock; for heknows the _tigre_, like other cats, can see in the darkness, and wouldthus have the advantage of them.
Soon again it treats them to another bit of trumpeting, this time moreangrily intoned, as if demanding shelter from the storm, and no doubt asmuch surprised as puzzled at the strange obstruction debarring entranceto the cave--in all likelihood its lair.
They have stationed themselves in a line facing the screen, and withguns cocked stand ready to fire at the beast, should it persist in itsintention to enter. But now, with the light shining upon the ponchos,they see what appears to be its body pressing against these from theoutside, though quickly withdrawn, as if the creature recoiled from athing that awes while perplexing it.
"Hadn't we better fire at it through the ponchos? Some one of us mayhit it."
Cypriano makes the suggestion.
"No," dissents Gaspar, "we might all miss that way; and if we did,'twould drive the _tigre_ mad, and then--"
He is interrupted by another cry from the jaguar; this a fierce scream,showing the animal already maddened enough, or, at all events, madlyimpatient, and determined no longer to endure exclusion from the cave.For while still continuing that cry, it bounds up against the screen,plucking the knives from their places, tossing off the stones, andlaying the entrance open. A gust of wind entering blows out the candle,and all is again darkness. But not silence; for there are noises closeto where they stand, which they know must proceed from the jaguar,though different from its former utterances, and to them quiteincomprehensible--a succession of growls, snorts, and coughs, as if thebeast were being suffocated; while at the same time a heavy body seemsto be tumbling and struggling over the floor of the cavern!
"By Saint Jago!" cries Gaspar, first to comprehend what it means, "thebrute's caught in our ponchos! He's bagged--smothered up! Fire intohim! Aim where you hear the noise. _Tira_!"
At the word, their three guns go off together; and then, to make sure,another shot additional from the double barrelled piece of Cypriano;Ludwig's gun being the rifle that belonged to his father, found wherethe latter had fallen.
And sure work have their shots made of it. For as they stand in thedarkness listening, they hear neither growl, nor snort, nor coughing;but, instead, only the wailing of wind and the rumbling of thunder.
"Dead as a door-nail!" pronounces Gaspar, feeling his way to where hehad stuck the bit of bees'-wax, and once more setting it alight. Thenreturning towards the entrance, he sees that he has in everythingrightly conjectured. For there, enveloped in the ponchos, with itsclaws stuck fast into the close-woven fabric of wool, lies the greatspotted cat--not at full stretch, but doubled up into a shapeless lump,as it had worked itself in its efforts to get free! Though all theirshots had hit it, some of the bullets passing through its body, aquivering throughout its frame tells that life is not yet extinct. Butit is extinguished instantly after, by Gaspar laying hold of one of theknives, and giving _el tigre_ the _coup de grace_ by a cut across itsthroat; as he does so, saying--
"That's for your impudence--intruding yourself on three hungrytravellers about sitting down to supper!"