The Lost Mine of the Amazon
The moon slipped down behind the clouds after midnight and they paddledthrough the remaining dark hours. At dawn they came to a desertedsettlement and agreed to get something to eat before going further. BigBoy motioned that the rest of the journey was going to be strenuous andthat they needed all the nourishment they could get.
He proved himself to be ingenious in the matter of catching fish withhis bow and arrow. And Hal watched him with something like awe when hegot a fire out of two sticks just by rubbing them together for anamazingly short time.
Big Boy did the honors of cooking the fish also, and Hal had nothing todo but sit down and help him eat them when they were finished broiling.Needless to say he did justice to the Indian’s culinary accomplishments.
Hal noticed, however, that Big Boy’s appetite could top his own by apretty wide margin. In point of fact, he seemed to stuff, rather thaneat, and washed down the whole with tremendous draughts of river water.However, he seemed contented and not at all distressed by any thoughtsof indigestion, and greeted his white friend’s questioning look with amerry shake of his flat, black head.
After setting out again they paddled but a half hour when they came to awaterfall and were confronted with the necessity of portage. For twohours they struggled through the jungle with the canoe and came at lastto a stretch of smooth water.
But their good fortune was not lasting, for a half hour found themconfronting a series of rapids. Hal insisted upon doing his share andtook up a paddle, protesting that the breakfast of fish had given himall the strength he needed for the task.
They raced through the first without incident, but before attempting thesecond, a dangerous looking one, they held a sort of pow-wow. Hal wasdecidedly against it, but Big Boy, by means of guttural grunts andsounds, assured him that the thing could be accomplished with carefulpaddling.
Consequently, they set out and, from the very first, experienced hecticmoments. For a few hundred yards the rocky cliffs compressed theriver-channel to a narrow gorge. Through this the water angrily forcedits way, venting its fury by sending up foaming spray and high, lashingwaves.
Big Boy motioned Hal at this juncture that he would do the paddlingalone, and as if on second thought he removed the wrist watch and gaveit to his friend. With a grin he motioned toward the spray foaming inthe gorge and shook his black head vociferously as if to say that he wasloath to get the watch wet.
Hal laughed and put it in his pocket for safe-keeping. The next secondthey were headed for the gorge, shooting through it with lightningspeed. But halfway through, a wave struck the frail craft, water pouredin, and before they were able to bail it out, another wave caught themand turned them completely over.
HAL AND BIG BOY WERE THROWN OUT OF THE CANOE.]
Hal came up under the overturned canoe and rapidly swam from under. Onceon the surface he looked about and saw that the Indian had been carriedquite a little distance downstream.
Hal called vociferously and swam rapidly, but the nearer he got thestronger was the conviction that Big Boy was not as he should be. Heseemed to be floundering about in the current and, as the motion of thewater swirled him about, it was quite obvious from his expression thathe was unable to swim.
Cramps! Hal guessed it in a moment when he saw the Indian’s pale lipsand pain-contorted face. He was paying the penalty for a huge breakfast.
Hal called to him, motioned to him to hold on, but the Indian looked tobe sinking. Too, he was in the very heart of the current which wasgradually bearing him down to the torrent below. By this time, however,his would-be rescuer was rapidly approaching the spot, endangering hisown life in the attempt.
Two waves in succession caught the Indian at this point and, just as Halstretched out to grasp him, he was carried out of reach and plunged intoa whirlpool. Conscious that there was no further hope, he lifted hisblack head in smiling resignation, then was churned out of sight by theroaring force of the water.
Hal cried out in despair, but just at that moment the floating canoecame past and he reached out and grasped it.
CHAPTER XXI A JUNGLE VISION
By sheer determination, Hal forced the stubborn craft back into positionand, paddling with his bare hands, he managed to emerge safely at theother end. Once there, he had no heart to go further and pulled into thebank to rest and reflect upon the Indian’s sad passing.
It was the saddest experience of his life, he thought as he clambered upon the bank and sat down. Sadder even than Rodriguez’ death, for theBrazilian was but an acquaintance, while the Indian had proved himselfthe best friend a fellow could have. And what was worse, he felt that hehimself was responsible, for the young man would never have come to suchgrief if he hadn’t left his people.
After an hour of these vain regrets he hobbled down just below therapids, but there was no sign of the Indian’s body. Watch as he did, hesaw nothing but the foaming spray as it roared down the rapids. BigBoy’s brave, faithful countenance Hal never saw again—not even in death.
He limped on downstream, despondent and irresolute. The canoe was nogood to him without a paddle, the Indian was gone.... Fate, he decided,was taking an awful whack at him and he resented it. He had planned somuch to repay Big Boy—he had even painted mind pictures of taking himhome to his mother in Ramapo, N. Y. There in the shadow of theundulating hills he would have looked quite picturesque. But now itcould never be, and the sad part of it was that he had not been giventhe slightest chance to show Big Boy his deep gratitude.
Suddenly Hal thought of the watch and he took it out of his pocket,looked at it a moment, then put it back on his own wrist with a wistfulsmile. It had been a queer give and take between them, yet he was gladthat it had been so. Until the longest day he lived, he would alwaysthink of the watch as a farewell token of the Indian’s.
A macaw, gorgeously plumed, flew over his head, and further down alongthe bank he noticed that the jungle thinned out. That always meant aclearing, so he hesitated for a time, drawing back under the trees andlistening. He would not, he determined, walk into any cannibal campswith his eyes closed.
He listened for fully five minutes and then suddenly noticed somethinggolden flitting in and out of the trees below. Emboldened, he hurried onuntil he saw that it was not a mirage, but a real white girl with acrown of lovely golden hair who was running along the bank.
Hal’s heart seemed to come up in his mouth then. He wanted to call rightaway, but he seemed powerless to do aught but stand and stare at herslim figure swaying along under her flowing, old-fashioned skirt. Andwhen she turned to look out over the river, he noticed that her feetwere quite small, despite the clumsy canvas shoes she wore.
He thought of his own appearance then, bedraggled and unkempt. Andthough his ruined sport shoes were unsightly indeed, he felt really moreconscious of his terrible growth of beard. Not being able to seehimself, he visualized his appearance as being nothing short ofdisgraceful. Certainly, he was not fit to show himself before such avision as that girl was who was standing on the bank.
And so in disgust, Hal was about to hide himself until she had gone, buthe was just too late. She caught sight of him, hesitated with wonder,then started toward him on a run.
With a graceful bow, Hal hurried toward her, also, and steeled himselffor the worst under a critical, feminine eye. But he was destined to besurprised, for she seemed not to notice any deficiency in his attire.Indeed, her first observation was quite unexpected.
“_A white man_—my goodness!” she exclaimed in a voice that was husky,yet not harsh. “My goodness!”
“Just what I was going to say,” Hal returned, blushing consciously underhis beard. “A white girl—my goodness!”
They both laughed, then she cupped her tanned face in her right hand andsearched Hal’s face eagerly. He noted at once that her eyes were gray.
“You’ve been hurt—sick—lost?” she asked solicitously.
“All three,” Hal admitted with a chuckle. “I
don’t know where I’ve been,where I am, or where I’m headed for, but I do know that it’s darn sweetmusic to see a white girl in this wilderness and hear her talking theEnglish language. _Gosh!_”
She laughed, huskily sweet.
“You’re not by any chance that person whom all the Amazon is beingsearched for—Hallett Keen?”
“Now I know the reason they haven’t found me,” Hal laughed. “If they’researching for me with that name to go by, I wouldn’t care if I was everrescued.”
“Then you are _he_?”
“Not Hallett—_Hal_! Hal Keen is the only name my dog knows, and what’sgood enough for my dog is good enough for me. So I’m Hal Keen, by yourleave, young lady.”
“Oh, I’m so happy to meet you, Hal Keen,” she said laughing, but nonethe less sincere. “I really am. Particularly am I glad to know you’realive. Word came through here four days ago that we were to watch outfor a young man of your description, and here you are! Think of it!”Then, solicitously: “You’re pale and shaken looking, Mr. Hal—why, you’renot well!”
“Better than I’ve been in a week,” Hal assured her. “I’ve been throughan awful lot,” he said, telling her the story of Big Boy.
She listened attentively while he talked, and, when he had finished,regarded him gravely.
“I’ve an idea you’ve been through a great deal more than even that.”
“Some,” Hal smiled winningly. “But there’s plenty of time to talk aboutmy adventures—it’ll take me too long now. What I want to know is who youare and why, where are we, and why?”
“It would take too long to tell you why,” she laughed with gentlemockery, “but I can tell you where we are, first. We’re on the banks ofthe _Pallida Mors_, known as _River of Pale Death_, also _Death River_.It was so called by an Italian scientist who lost his party in therapids just about where your Indian boy was lost. And as for me, I’mjust Felice Pemberton and I live....”
“Did you say _just_?” Hal interrupted her.
CHAPTER XXII FELICE AND HAL
Instinctively they sat down together on the bank. Hal, though weary, wasnot hungry nor suffering pain of any kind, and if he had been, hesecretly thought that just talking to the flower-like Felice would driveit away.
“I heard about you—in fact, I heard about your whole family,” Hal toldher. “My uncle and I listened to the story from the captain on the boatto _Manaos_.”
“Not a cheerful story, I’m afraid,” she said wistfully.
“That’s why I made up my mind right then and there to pay you people avisit,” Hal said impulsively. “Funny, how I wanted to do that right awaywhen I heard what hard luck you folks have had. But I didn’t think I’dbust in this way—gosh!”
Her gray eyes twinkled as she regarded him.
“I’m glad to have you too, Mr. Hal,” she said earnestly, “but I’m sorryyou had to go through so much to get here. Grandfather will send one ofthe Indians down to let your uncle know you’re safe. But just as soon asyou rest, we’ll walk down and get you into a hammock where you can sleepand recuperate. We don’t have beds up here,” she added with a note ofapology; “we live very simply.”
“Say, a hammock will feel like a feather bed after what I’ve beensleeping on,” Hal assured her breezily.
“So the _Pallida_ Indians captured you?” she inquired, interested.
“That what they’re called?”
“By us,” she smiled. “They’re a sort of mixture. _Pallida_ identifiesthem sufficiently. They’re terribly warlike and superstitious.”
“Well, they were kind enough to me at the go-off. I was in pretty badshape when they found me—they nursed me back. That is, a fat oldmedicine man did, and from the way I got well, I guess he’s not allfake. But then they were willing to shoot poisoned arrows into me aftergoing to all the trouble of making me well. If you savvy that, I don’t.”
She laughed, and got him to tell her the story at the Indian settlementright from the beginning.
“I know about their superstition,” she told him when he had finished,“but I didn’t think they’d go to such an extreme as they tried with you.I’ve heard about the demented native, though. They keep him imprisonedin that hut in the jungle and none of the tribe will go toward it, faceforward. They back toward it in order to keep the evil spirit fromafflicting them. It does seem awful and odd, but it’s their native andtheir business, and nobody interferes. They never bother us, never inall these years. And they wouldn’t bother to come after you; don’tworry. Particularly, because one of their number came away with you.”
“Poor fellow,” Hal said thoughtfully. “I wouldn’t have had it happen forthe world. He deserved a better fate, believe me.”
“It seems that is the way with those we love,” said Felice with apoignancy that did not escape Hal.
“I know,” he said sympathetically. “I heard about your father from thecaptain, too. It was included in the story. What a tough break for him,huh?”
“Not only for him, but for all of us. You see, he had finally come tothe conclusion that he was on the verge of a big discovery. He had keptit quiet, being afraid that it would prove disappointing. Consequently,we have never been able to find out just where the lode was. That itcontained some gold was proven by the dust he brought home. The lasttrip he made was to decide just how much metal the lode would yield andif it would be worth while to go on.”
“And it was up this river—the _Pallida Mors_?”
“Yes,” Felice answered wistfully, “our river of pale death. We were toleave this wilderness and live in civilization if Father’s expectationswere realized. I went to school in Rio; we thought of going there tolive.”
“And how a girl like you must like to live in Rio,” Hal said, lookingaround.
“But we have neither the money, nor the heart. You heard, I suppose,that none of us shall leave here for good until Father’s body isrecovered?”
“Yes. But that’s making things awfully hard for yourselves, isn’t it? Ina river where there’s rapids....”
“I know,” she said with a sigh. “We’ve discussed that times withoutnumber. But we always come to the conclusion that Father was seized withone of those uncanny premonitions that should be given serious thought.He had a fear that something was going to happen to him and he had afear that his dead body would be left unprotected, something ... we’venot been able to guess why he had that fear. In any event, we’ve waitedten years—we’re too poor to do other than stay where we are and we’reconscience free that we haven’t gone away from the region where Fatherdied, leaving him alone. Even though we haven’t found him we feel betterabout it than if we had gone away.”
“I suppose you do,” Hal agreed thoughtfully. “But it’s tough on you,Miss Felice.”
The girl’s face lighted up with a radiant smile.
“Not a bit,” she said cheerfully. “I’ve Grandfather to look after rightnow and just when I was beginning to worry, along you came. And there’sa lot of you to come along, Mr. Hal,” she added slyly. “When I firstspied you, I was inclined to think it was a jaguar moving in the bushes;you backed away so, I was startled. The brownish color of your suit andthe flash of your hair in the sunlight seemed terribly like the creatureuntil I saw your vast height popping out of the bushes.”
“Gosh, a jaguar wouldn’t be so bold as to come out on the river bank,right in the daylight?”
“If we are to believe the story the _Pallidas_ circulated, the jaguarruns and cries at unexpected times. Especially the jaguar in whom theybelieve my father has been reincarnated. They say he runs up and downthese river banks trying to lead us to his body and that he has beencaught beneath one of the rapids. Of course, it’s absurd, but I amalways startled when I hear the cry of a jaguar or see one flash throughthe brush.”
“They know about how you’re waiting to get your father’s body then,huh?”
“Of course. Indians have a way of gossiping among thems
elves, the sameas the white men. And as they’re so terribly superstitious I suppose itpleased their fancy to make up the jaguar story out of that ghostly crythat sounds up in their region at night.”
“And this fabled jaguar is supposed to have a human voice, huh?”
“Yes, how do you know, Mr. Hal?”
“I heard it myself. It’s queer, darn queer....”
“That’s what my brother Rene has said.”
“_Rene?_ Gosh, I’ll always like that name on account of a swell fellow Imet. His last name was Carmichael.”
“That’s odd, Mr. Hal. My brother’s middle name is Carmichael.”
“Well, I’ll be darned. That’s not too odd to be a coincidence, MissFelice. Let’s get together on this.”
And they did.
CHAPTER XXIII SOME TALK
Hal acquainted Felice Pemberton with the facts of his acquaintance withthe spies, Goncalves and Pizella. Then he launched onto the topic of hismeeting with Rene Carmichael, and told her in detail all that hadtranspired up to the point where they had said farewell.
“That fits my brother,” said the girl worriedly. “It’s _got_ to be him,for who else is blond and gray-eyed with that name in this desolateregion? And if he said he would get help to you, you may be certain hewould have done so if it was humanly possible. But we haven’t seen him.”
“Then aren’t you worried about him?”
“Not yet,” the girl replied cheerfully. “You see he is something of anadventurer like yourself. Only he roams about Brazil picking up odd jobshere and there to support Grandfather and myself. We don’t hear from himfor intervals. What worries me is that he didn’t get help for you.”