"Then hadn't we better go on at once?" cried Perry, getting up from the
stone on which he was seated.

"What for?  Are you afraid of an eruption?" said the colonel, with a
shade of contempt in his voice.--"Feel that stone where he was sitting,
Cyril; perhaps it is warm."

"Yes, it was quite warm when I sat down upon it," said Perry hastily.
"All the stones about here are nearly hot."

"Of course they are, sir," cried his father.  "Have they not been baking
in this hot sunshine?  There, sit down and finish your dinner.
Mountains don't break out into eruption without giving some warning."

"But this must have been quite lately, sir," said Cyril, to turn the
colonel's fire.

"Geologically lately, my lad," he said, picking up and examining a
stone, "but not in our time, nor our grandfathers'.  In all probability
these stones came crumbling down some hundreds of years ago."

"Then you think there is no fear of another eruption, father?"

"If I did think there was, do you think I should be sitting here so
calmly?" replied the colonel.

Perry had nothing to say to this, and he soon after became interested in
a conversation which took place between Cyril and the guide, waiting
impatiently until it was at an end.

"What does he say?" asked Perry, as Cyril turned away.

"That as soon as we've passed this rough place there's another path,
like the one we've come by, and he wants to know if your father means to
risk it."

Perry felt a shrinking sensation, but he said nothing, knowing how
determined his father was when he had set his mind upon a thing.

"I told him we were going, of course.  But, I say, Perry," whispered
Cyril, "how far does he mean to go?"

Perry shook his head.

"Is it any use to ask him where he means to stop?" whispered Cyril.

"No; not a bit."

"Hallo!  Look here!" cried Cyril, and Perry snatched up his piece from
where it lay.

"Look out, father!" he cried, as one by one, with solemn, slow stride,
some half-dozen peculiar-looking, flat-backed, long-necked animals came
into sight round an angle of the valley at the far side of the chaos of
stones amongst which they had made their halt.

"Put down that gun.  Don't be stupid," cried Cyril.  "Can't you see they
are llamas?"

"What if they are?  I suppose they are good to eat."

"I shouldn't like to try one," cried Cyril, laughing.

The colonel had now caught sight of the animals, which kept on coming
round the corner in regular file, with their long necks held up stiffly.

"Quite a caravan," the colonel said.  "Ask Diego what they are
carrying."

"I know, without asking, sir," said Cyril eagerly.  "They're bringing
down Quinquina--kina, as they call it.  You know, sir--bark."

"Hah!" ejaculated the colonel eagerly, and he took out the little double
glass he carried to examine the train of animals, which had evidently
come from the track that they were to pursue after their halt.

"You're wrong, I think, my lad," said the colonel, after a long
examination through his glass.  "They have all got bales of something on
their backs, and, judging from the outside, I think they are skins or
hides."

"Yes, sir, that's right," cried Cyril, "but it is bark inside.  They
make the bark up into bales, and cover them with hides before binding
them up.  I know; I've seen them before."

The colonel continued his inspection, and Cyril hurriedly questioned the
guide before speaking to the former again.

"He says they are taking the kina down to the port, and that they will
halt here to rest."

"Then we'll stay a little longer and see them," said the colonel,
closing his glass after seeing several armed men turn the corner and
begin to climb beside the llamas over the rugged stones.

CHAPTER NINE.

CYRIL SCENTS DANGER.

As the men in charge of the llamas came in sight of the colonel and his
party, they waited for more and more to join them, and it soon became
plain that they expected or meditated an attack; but a peaceful message
sent on by the colonel gave them confidence, and the swarthy men, for
the most part armed, came on, followed now by their charge, till the
great opening in the rock-wall was filled by the drove of rough,
woolly-looking animals; there being over five hundred in the caravan,
and each bearing about a hundredweight of the precious fever-averting
bark.

Diego and Cyril's powers were soon brought into requisition for
interpreting; the strangers willingly stating where they were going, but
proving themselves as eager to know the colonel's business as he showed
himself about the bark bales, before the mules were once more loaded,
and the English party started again, so as to get to the end of the
valley before dark.

The coming of the caravan had given the boys encouragement, for, as
Cyril argued to Perry, the track could not be so very bad if that drove
of animals bearing loads could come along it in safety.

"I don't know about that," replied Perry.  "I had a good look at them.
Short-legged, broad things like these, with soft spongy feet like
camels, seem made for walking up here among the rocks; while the mules,
with their long legs and hard hoofs, look as if they might slip and go
over at any time."

This was just after they had started, and found, as soon as they had
cleared the rocky chaos, that the shelf path was so wide that the lads
were able to ride abreast; and as the colonel had gone right in front
with the guide, the boys began talking about the men with the llamas.

"Any one would think your father wanted to go into the kina trade," said
Cyril, who was rapidly recovering his spirits.  "Did you notice how the
Indian frowned when Diego kept on talking to him, and I asked all those
questions for your father?"

"I thought he seemed impatient and tired, and as if he wanted to sit
down and rest."

"Oh, it wasn't that," said Cyril quietly; "it's because they want to
keep all about the bark trees very secret, so that no one else shall be
able to grow it and supply it for sale.  You heard my father say how the
people who went in search of the trees never came back again.  Father
feels sure that they were murdered."

"No; that was the people who went after the treasures."

"Oh, was it?  I forget.  Perhaps it was both," said Cyril.  "My head got
in such a muddle over my coming after you, that things are mixed.  I
suppose it was because Colonel Campion asked so much about the kina."

"Father takes a great interest in everything; that's why he travels and
has come here," said Perry.  "Look, there goes a condor."

"Well, let him go," said Cyril.  "He isn't good to eat, and you've got
plenty of provisions to last till you get to some village on the other
side of the mountains.  But, I say, it does seem strange that you people
should come here of all places in the world."

"I don't see it," replied Perry.  "It's a very wonderful place to come
to, but I wish it wasn't quite so dangerous.  I keep feeling afraid of
turning giddy."

"Yes, it's a wonderful place to come to, and I had no idea that the
valleys were so awful and deep; but I should enjoy it if it wasn't for
thinking of them at home.  I hope they believe I've come after you.
Wish I'd left a line to say where I had gone."

"It's too late to wish that now," said Perry.

"Yes, but one can't help wishing it all the same.  I wish I knew why
your father has come up here."

At that moment there was a warning shout from forward, and another from
John Manning in the rear, for the boys had been so wrapped in their
thoughts that they had not noticed how rapidly the path was narrowing.
They had, however, another hint, and that was from Cyril's mule, which,
from long training on similar paths, knew exactly what to do, and went
on ahead, while Perry's stopped short on the narrowing shelf which
followed all the windings and angles of the rocky wall, and had become
so strait that Perry shrank from watching the laden mules, whose loads
every now and then brushed against the stones, and one completely caught
against a rough projection, making the intelligent animal that bore it
stop and ease away a little, leaning more and more over the precipice
till Perry's hands turned cold and wet, and he held his breath.  Just,
though, as he was about to close his eyes, so as not to see the poor
brute plunge headlong down to where it would certainly be dashed to
pieces, the load escaped from the awkward corner, and the mule trudged
on just as before, while Perry heard a deeply-drawn sigh just behind
him.

"I thought he'd have gone, Master Perry," said John Manning.  "Mules
ain't got no nerves, that's for certain, and if ever you hear any one
say in the future as a donkey's a stupid animal, you tell him he don't
know what he's talking about."

"That mule's sensible enough, at all events," said Perry, without
venturing to turn his head, lest he should have to look down into the
gulf.

"Sensible, sir?  Why, he acted just as a human being would.  I call it
wonderful.  I say, Master Perry, though."

"Yes?  But I wish you wouldn't talk to me so, while we are going along a
place like this."

"Don't say so, Master Perry, because I want to talk.  It keeps one from
feeling a bit skeary, because this is a place, sir, really."

"Well, what do you want to say?  Speak loud, for I can't turn round to
listen."

"But if I speak loud, the colonel will hear me, sir, and I want to talk
about him."

"Well, go on then; what is it?"

"Can't you tell me, sir, where we're going to, and what we're going
for?"

"We're going over the mountains, John."

"Well, sir, I know that; but what are we going for?"

"To find the valley of diamonds, and throw down lumps of meat for the
rocs to fetch out."

"No, no, sir, that won't do," said John Manning, shaking his head.  "As
you said to me the other day, that's only a story out of the _'Rabian
Nights_, and not real truth, though these places might just as well be
something of the kind, from the looks of them.  But, I say, sir, you do
know where we're going, and what for, don't you?"

"No, I have not the slightest idea.  Ask my father yourself."

"What, sir!  Me ask the colonel about the plan of his campaign?  Why, I
should as soon have thought of asking the Dook o' Wellington."

"We shall know in good time, I daresay," said Perry; and then a slip on
the part of one of the mules ahead made them turn cold once more.

But the clever animal recovered itself on the instant, and for hours
they kept on along this path, till the boys despaired of reaching its
end, and began to calculate on the possibility of having to encamp on a
place like that for the night.

But it is a long lane that has no turning, and just when there was a
sensible deepening of the gloom, and the peeps they had of the sky
overhead were of a golden amber, they turned an angle and became aware
of an increase in the murmuring sound of water, which thenceforth grew
louder and louder, till it was evident that they were approaching some
extensive fall.

An hour later they were in full sight of where it came thundering down
hundreds of feet, spouting forth from a gap, and plunging down on to a
huge buttress of rock, which shot it off again far into the air,
distributing it so that it went on down into the valley like a misty
rain, and without a sound arising from below.

The fall was magnificent, for, as they approached, the upper part was
turned to gold by the setting sun, and to add to the beauty of the
scene, there was a patch of forest on either side, and the narrow shelf
was broadening out to where it ran into a side valley, all golden green
and darkened shadow.  For they had reached the end of the terrific
gorge, and there were scores of places just in front ready for the
formation of ideal camps, without the risk of an incautious step sending
its unhappy author thousands of feet down into the depths below.

In another half-hour they were in a place which, by comparison with the
sterile defile of darkness and depression, seemed to the lads beautiful
in the extreme; and after a hearty meal, while the colonel was looking
round the camp, as he called it, and having a farewell glance for the
night at the mules, which were thoroughly enjoying the abundance of
grass, Cyril sat looking very thoughtful and depressed.

"He's thinking of home and his people," said Perry to himself, and then,
on the impulse of the moment:

"I say," he cried, "why didn't my father send you back along with the
llama train?  I never thought of that before."

"Are you in such a hurry to get rid of me?" said Cyril bitterly.

"No, of course not; but as he said he should send you home by the first,
I thought it strange that he had not done so."

"Because they were not going to San Geronimo," said Cyril quietly.
"They would turn off to the north, just where I first joined you, and I
suppose he thought, after what I had suffered, it would be too cruel to
send me to find a great deal of my way back with people like that."

They relapsed into silence for a time, during which period John Manning
cleared away and washed up as methodically as if he were at home, while
the two Indians sat by the fire munching away at the supply of biscuit
given to them.

"What are you thinking about, Perry?" said Cyril at last.

"The stars.  How big and bright they are up here.  What were you
thinking about?"

"Diego, our guide."

"What about him?--that he ought to be fonder of water, even if it is
icily-cold?"

"No," said Cyril seriously.  "I want to know why he has turned so quiet
and serious, and why he seems to be always watching your father in such
a peculiar way."

"Father was sharp with him, and ordered him to go on, when he seemed to
want to go back."

"Yes, and I suppose he did not quite like it; but that isn't all."

"What is all, then?" said Perry.

"Ah, that's what I want to find out.  He puzzles me.  He's thinking
about something, and I shouldn't wonder if he has taken it into his head
that your father has come up here to look for the Incas' treasures."

"Pooh!  Why should he think that?" returned Perry.

"Because these Indian chaps are horribly suspicious as well as
superstitious.  They would think it a horrible sin to touch the gold if
there is any; and if it is found, they would be ready to defend it."

"What with?  Bows and arrows?" cried Perry, laughing.

"Yes, and blowpipes."

"Why don't you introduce pop-guns as well?"

"Because they are toys," said Cyril seriously, "and blowpipes are not.
Don't you know the tiny darts they send out are poisoned, and that one
will kill anything it hits?"

"Is that true?" said Perry, whose eyes dilated at the idea.

"Quite true.  I saw a man kill several birds with the darts.  They died
almost directly they were struck, and I have been told by father that he
has seen small animals die in a few minutes after being scratched."

"But do you think--Oh, what nonsense!  You have got your head crammed
with that idea about the gold."

"Perhaps so," said Cyril thoughtfully, "and maybe I'm wrong.  But I
don't like to see old Diego turn so gruff and distant, and it seemed
strange for him to go and talk for a long time with the Indians in
charge of the llamas.  I saw them look very strangely and suspiciously
at your father afterwards."

"Those Indians?  Why, what could it be to them?  Ah, the Peruvian
Indians are said to be joined together to protect everything belonging
to the old days when they were a great nation, and keep it for the time
when the Incas come back to rule over them again."

"Say, Master Perry," said John Manning in a low voice, "your eyes are
younger than mine.  Just cast 'em along the rock path we come to-day."

"Yes, what for?"

"Are you looking straight along, sir?"

"Yes."

"Well, what do you see?"

"Nothing at all."

"Try again, sir."

Both Perry and Cyril looked along the path, tracing it faintly in the
coming night for some distance along, beyond where the great fall came
thundering down.

"I can't see anything," said Perry.

"Nor I," said Cyril.  "Yes, I can.  There's something that looks like
shadows moving."

"Steady, sir; don't seem as if you were noticing it, but notice it all
the same.  It struck me as strange ten minutes ago, but I thought it was
fancy.  But you see it, sir, and it must be right.  Now then, sir, what
do you make that to be?"

"Indians," said Cyril promptly.

"That's right, sir--what I thought; and they're watching us, and after
no good."

"What!  Do you think they are hanging round the camp to try to steal?"

"Don't know, sir," said John Manning gruffly.  "I hope that's the
worst."

CHAPTER TEN.

JOHN MANNING THINKS.

John Manning's curious remark sent a thrill through Cyril, and, trying
hard not to appear as if watching, he strained his eyes in the direction
indicated, but the gloom had increased, and neither he nor Perry could
make out anything more.

"What do you mean by `you hope that's the worst?'" said Perry.

"Well, sir, I hardly know how to tell you."

"Speak out," said Cyril rather huskily.  "If you think there's danger,
tell us, so that we can tell the colonel, and put him on his guard."

"Well, young gents, I did give him a hint once, but he nearly jumped
down my throat," said John Manning.

"What!" cried the boys in a breath.

"Well, sir, that's what you clever folk call methy-physical.  I told him
I didn't think the Indians was to be trusted, and that I fancied they
were keeping an eye upon everything he did, and he insulted me, sir."

"Nonsense, John," said Perry.  "My father wouldn't insult you."

"O' course you stick up for your dad, Master Perry, as is quite right
natural, and your duty to.  But I put it to you, Master Cyril: he's a
soldier, and I'm a soldier, and if one soldier calls another a stoopid
old woman, with no more pluck than a quill pen, isn't that an insult?"

"But Colonel Campion did not mean it, I'm sure," said Cyril impatiently.
"Now then, don't waste time.  What is it you think?"

"Well, sir, I think our Indians said something to those Indians who were
with the llamas, and three or four turned back and followed after us."

"Are you sure?" said Cyril anxiously.

"Well, sir, I'm sure I saw some of them dodging us and following.  I
wasn't very sure at first, for I thought p'raps the colonel was right,
and I was a bit of an old woman growing scared at shadows; but I feel
pretty sure now."

"But why should they follow us?" asked Cyril tentatively.  "You have
some idea in your head."

"Well, sir, I have; and whether it's right or wrong I can't say, but it
seems to me as these people are all in league together, and they don't
want anybody to come up in the mountains.  They want to know what we're
about."

"But don't you fancy that, because it is what you have been thinking,
John," said Perry.  "You have been wonderfully anxious to know where we
were going, and what for."

"That's a true word, sir," replied the man, "but I think they want to
know too.  It seems to me they're afraid we want to take something out
of their country."

"Nonsense," said Perry.

"Nonsense!" said Cyril sharply.  "He's right, Perry.  It's just what I
told you, and--"

"Now, quick, Mr Cyril!" whispered John.  "Turn towards me, as if you
were going to speak, and look toward the path we came by."

Cyril responded quickly, and saw by the light of the fire, which had
just then blazed up brightly, a dark face peering at them over a great
piece of rock.  He even saw the flash of the fire in the watcher's eyes,
and then, as he pretended to hand something to Manning, his look was
averted for a moment, and when he glanced again in the same direction,
the face was gone.

Cyril responded quickly, and saw a dark face peering at them over a
great piece of rock.

"Now, Master Cyril, what do you say?" whispered John Manning.

"I say it may only be curiosity," replied Cyril, "but certainly we are
being watched, and the colonel ought to know directly."

"Hah!" ejaculated the old soldier, with a sigh of satisfaction, "this
puts one in mind of old times up in the hill-country, with the niggers
waiting to go at you with matchlock or knife.  I didn't think I was ever
going to have the luck to see a bit of fighting again."

Perry started, and Cyril's face looked in the firelight as if it was
flushed.

"Where's the colonel?" he said quickly.  "Be steady, Perry, old chap.
There's nothing to be frightened about.  Don't look as if anything was
the matter.  Come and find your father, and let's go and speak to Diego
and the other man."

"But I can't speak to them," said Perry excitedly.

"Never mind, I will.  Come along."

"And suppose they shoot at us," whispered Perry, "with an arrow or
blowpipe?"

"They'd better!" said Cyril grimly.  "But they won't do that.  Come on."

He walked on toward the fire, behind which the two Indians were
crouched, apparently enjoying the warmth and the charqui they were
munching; but they gazed furtively up at the two boys as they came up,
and one of them started slightly as Cyril made a sudden stoop, but
became impassive directly when the boy picked up two or three
half-burned brands and threw them into the middle of the fire before
holding his hands out to the flame.

"The waterfall makes it feel cold up here, and damp," he said to the
guide in his patois, and the man smiled as he spoke, and then pointed up
a defile away above them as he replied.

"What does he say?" asked Perry.

"That the wind comes down that narrow rift from the snow, and it is that
which makes it cold.  I only half understand him."

He turned laughingly to the guide, and said a few words to that effect,
and the man laughed and nodded as he replied.

"Oh, what a big fib!" said Cyril merrily.  "He says I speak his tongue
beautifully.--Oh, there's the colonel looking round at the mules.
They're having a beautiful feed here.  Plenty of grass for the mules,"
he said to the Indian, and the man nodded again, and said it was good.

The colonel said something very similar, as the boys strolled carelessly
up, at a time when Perry felt as if he must run to his father, shouting:
"Look out!  Danger!"

"We must stay here two or three days, boys," the colonel said.  "The
mules will revel in this grass and fresh water, and make up for their
fasting lately."

"I think not, sir," said Cyril, speaking carelessly, and making believe
to pat one of the mules, which turned sharply round and showed him its
heels.

"What do you mean, sir?"

Cyril told him quickly; and as he spoke, the colonel's hand twitched,
and went involuntarily to his side, as if he were seeking a sword.

"Humph!" he ejaculated.  Then quietly, and looking at the mules: "That's
right, lads; don't make a sign.  I daresay John Manning is right.  He
has eyes like a hawk, and he is true as steel.  Well, I'm not surprised.
I half expected it, though not quite so soon."

"What shall we do then, father?" said Perry anxiously.  "Go back?"

"Englishmen don't go back, Perry," said his father gravely.  "They would
not have colonised the whole world if they did.  No, boy, we are going
on, and I don't think there is anything to fear.  These people are all
joined together to watch every stranger who comes into their country, in
dread lest they should be in search of the Incas' treasures, and they
would be ready to fight in defence."

"And kill us, father," said Perry, with his lips paling in the
firelight.

"If we let them, boy.  But we are well-armed, John Manning and I, and
know how to use our weapons if it should come to a struggle, which I
doubt."

"Then you have come in search of something, sir!  I knew it," cried
Cyril.

"Yes, I have come in search of something, boy, and I mean to find it and
take it away out of the country in spite of all their watchfulness and
care.  Now, then, what do you say to that?  Are you afraid, and do you
want to get back?"

"I don't know, sir," said Cyril quietly.  "Yes, I do.  I can't help
feeling a bit frightened like.  I don't want to, but I do."

"And you wish to go back?  For I warn you I am going on in spite of all
obstacles."

"No, I don't," said Cyril quietly.  "I shall go with you.  I'm not going
to leave Perry in the lurch."

"There's a coward for you, Perry, my boy," said the colonel, laughing.
"You must be a very good sort of a fellow to have made a friend like
that; one who risks his father's anger to come with you, and who is now
ready to run more risks for your sake."

"I'm afraid it isn't that, sir," said Cyril frankly.  "I wanted to come
because I thought it was going to be a great treat."

"There, say no more now.  Listen to me.  I shall take it for granted
that we have spies in the camp, and that, consequent upon their
communication to the men of the llama caravan, some of that party are
following us.  Of course the poor fellows consider that they are
performing a religious duty, so I shall not charge them with their
action.  They will go on watching us till they find I have done
something which calls for immediate action.  Till then we are safe."

"Then you will not do anything, sir?" said Cyril, looking quite aghast.

"Oh yes, I shall be upon my guard.  From now there will be watch set
every night in camp, and we shall sleep with our arms charged and ready
for action at a moment's notice."

"Yes," said Cyril, with a sigh of satisfaction.

"You can handle a gun, Cyril?"

"Yes, sir, after a fashion.  I have often been up in the hills with my
father, shooting."

"That will do," said the colonel.  "Now let's go and have a look at the
falls before setting watch and going to our blankets.  Tell the men to
keep up a pretty good fire, Cyril."

He led the way to where the Indians were seated as he spoke, and nodded
to them smilingly as Cyril gave his orders; and then, as the men quickly
obeyed them, the colonel led the way to the edge of a cliff!  From here
they could see the large body of water come gliding down in a curve from
far away up in the darkness, to gleam in the firelight as it passed
them, and then dive down into the deeper darkness below.

"An awful-looking place, boys, in the darkness," said the colonel
quietly.  "There now, we'll seek our blankets--at least you shall, for I
shall take the first watch; John Manning will take the second."

"Shall I sit up with you, father?" said Perry.

"No, my lad, we must husband our resources.  Your turn will come
to-morrow night.  Remember what I said about the guns.  Make no show,
but have your ammunition ready for use at a moment's notice.  The
Indians will see that, you may depend upon it, and act accordingly."

Half an hour later the two boys were lying inside a little shelter
formed of the mules' packs and a wall-like mass of rock, listening to
the roar of the falls, and watching the figure of the colonel standing
gazing out into the night, as he rested his chin upon the barrel of his
piece.

"I shan't go to sleep to-night," said Perry in a whisper.

"Oh yes, you will.  I shall," replied Cyril.

Just then John Manning came close up, with his gun in his hand.

"Good-night, gentlemen," he said.  "Colonel says I'm to come and lie in
the shelter here.  Don't kick in the night, please, because I'm going to
be at your feet.  I had a messmate once out in India, who, when we were
in barracks, used to sleep like a lamb, but so sure as we were on the
march and had to share a tent, which meant he slept in his boots, you
might just as well have gone to sleep with a pack of commissariat mules,
for the way in which he'd let go with his heels was a wonder.
Good-night, gentlemen, good-night."

CHAPTER ELEVEN.

THE PERIL THICKENS.

There must have been something wonderfully lulling in the roar of that
fall, and a feeling of great confidence in the fact that the colonel
would keep watch over them half the night, and John Manning, stern,
tried, old soldier that he was, for the second half; for, though the
boys lay there, fully convinced that they would not be able to sleep,
and had visions of knife-armed Indians creeping toward them through the
darkness, they soon dropped off, and rested uninterruptedly for eight
hours, when they sprang up at a touch from John Manning.

"If you gentlemen will relieve guard," he said quietly, "I'll see about
breakfast."

Soon after, as if nothing whatever had happened, they all sat down to a
hearty meal, and that over, once more started upon their journey through
the mountains; the Indians seeming more willing, and at the suggestion
that the mules should rest for a day or two in that luxuriant pasturage,
eagerly assuring the colonel, through Cyril, that for days to come they
would find plenty, and that the road would be easier.

On hearing this, the colonel decided to go on, and soon found that the
guide's words were correct; for, during the next six days, they
traversed smiling valleys, with grass and trees in abundance.
Snowcapped hills rose high above them; but where they journeyed, they
were in a beautiful temperate climate, with rich soil and abundance of
flowers.

This part of their journey was delightful; for the way along the passes
was easy, and the colonel, who was a dead shot, several times over added
to their larder with his gun.

But they went on in no false security; for several times over they
passed Indians, and were made fully aware of the fact that every mile
they took was carefully watched, and that the leader of the expedition
inspected no mountain shelf, cave, or patch of dwarf forest, without his
acts being duly noted, though in no observant way.

Diego proved to be a perfect guide; and, making no objections now, he
led them steadily on in a way which would have disarmed suspicion with
some people; but the colonel was quietly on the alert, and went on
examining plant, flower, and tree, at one time with all the patient care
of a botanist; and at another time, when they were climbing some rugged
shelf in a ravine, letting no mineral escape his observation.

And all the while the little party, though they made no sign, were
perfectly well aware that they were being watched.

"Strikes me that when we've got it, they won't let us take a simple lump
of gold out of the place, Master Cyril."

"No," said the boy drily.

"But I mean some of the precious stones, Master Perry.  I shall have
them."

"How?"

"Swaller 'em, sir, if I can manage it without being seen.  Why, do you
know I went down by that bit o' stream, last night, to bathe my feet,
and before I got there, I stopped short and sneezed, and before I had
time to say, `Bless me!' there was an Indian's head popped up over a
bush, and another from behind a stone, to see what was the matter."

"Yes; I've noticed something of the kind," said Cyril thoughtfully.
"But I shouldn't advise you to swallow any stones you find."

"Why, sir?"

"Because they won't agree with you."

"They agree with chickens," said Manning, grinning, "and make their hard
food digest, so I don't see why they shouldn't agree with me, sir.  But,
I say, Master Perry, let it out now; I'm sure you'd feel a deal happier
if you told us what the colonel's hunting for."

"I shall not tell you, because I don't know.  My father knows best about
what he's doing, I daresay.  We thought, the other day, that we were in
great danger; but you saw how quietly he took it, and how it all came to
nothing."

"Perhaps the time has not come yet," said Cyril rather seriously; "don't
let's talk too soon."

No more was said then; but a few days later, the others thought of how
prophetic the boy's words had proved.

But it was not until another fortnight had passed, and a day had arrived
when, after journeying through a deep defile of a similar character to
that which they had threaded upon the day when they met the llama
caravan, they reached a point upon the slope of a huge mountain, from
which they looked down over a glorious picture of hill and dale, verdant
forest and wide-reaching plain, with, in two places, thin serpentine
threads of water glistening in the sun.

"At last," said the colonel gravely.  "It has been a long journey, boys,
but we have reached the point I sought."

Cyril looked at him inquiringly; and Perry, who felt that he was
expected to speak, said: "Yes; it's very grand.  How different to being
in amongst the mountains!"

"Yes, boy; we can breathe out here.  Did you notice the water in the
last two streams we passed?"

"Yes; very beautiful with the overhanging trees, father."

"Yes; but the way they ran?"

"No," said Perry.

"Look yonder, then," said the colonel, pointing to a little rivulet
which leaped out from between two masses of rock.  "Where is that
going?"

"Into another stream, I suppose," said Perry, "and that will run into
another, and so on, till they all together form a big river, and run
into the ocean."

"Yes; but what ocean, my boy?  Don't you see that we have crossed the
watershed?  Till the last day or two, all the streams we passed have
been going constantly west into the Pacific.  Now we have passed through
the mountains, and found the eastern slope, where all run down to make
the vast rivers which flow into the Atlantic."

"I should not have known," said Perry.

"Nor I," said Cyril; "but its much fresher out here."

"Yes, we have left the dry region behind, to get into the land of rains
and many waters.  We saw no such forests as those which are spread
before us even at this height."

"Is this high, sir?" asked Cyril.

"Yes, my lad, about nine thousand feet."

"And shall we go back the same way?" asked Perry.

"Possibly, my lad, but more probably not.  It depends upon the way the
Indians treat us."

"But we can never find our way back any other way," cried Cyril.  "Don't
think about it.  We should be lost up here in these mountains."

"No, because we have a guide with us, my boy, and if I can help it, he
will not leave us till he has seen us safely back."

Cyril said nothing, but the thought occurred to him:

"Suppose we wake some fine morning, and the guides are gone."

They camped that night on the slope of the hill, and till it was growing
dark, the colonel busied himself with his glass, carefully, as it seemed
to the boys, inspecting the forest in every direction, and ending by
closing the telescope with a satisfied smile, which was not lost upon
Cyril.

"He has found it," he said to Perry, as soon as they were alone.

"Found what?"

"What he has come after."

Perry looked at him wonderingly.

"You have found out?" he said.

"No, I wish I had; but didn't you see how pleased he seemed when he came
back to supper, and said that we should camp here for a few days?"

"Yes, I noticed that."

"Well, doesn't it mean that we have got to the spot at last that he was
in search of?"

Perry shook his head.

"Well, you see if we don't find out something to-morrow."

Perry had almost forgotten his companion's words at breakfast-time the
next morning, but they came to his memory as soon as they had done, for
the colonel said:

"Now, boys, we'll make a little expedition along the edge of the forest
here this morning.  Cyril, tell the men to mind the mules don't stray
too far, and keep up the fire."

John Manning looked sharply at the colonel, as much as to say: "Then you
mean me to come also, sir?"

"Yes, I want you to carry spare ammunition and the game-bag.  I hope we
shall have some sport along here," said the colonel, who had caught the
old soldier's inquiring gaze.

Half an hour later, they were tramping along the mountain-slope, through
open woods that were quite park-like, and gave them glimpses of the
far-spreading region below, all vested in a delicate bluish mist, while
where they journeyed all was brilliant sunshine.  There was a delicious
feeling of spring in the air, for though the sun was hot, the air was
crisp and cool, making the task of walking easy, and giving the
travellers a feeling of elasticity, wanting when passing through the
gloomy gorges of the huge mountain-chain.

The colonel led off as if he were quite accustomed to the place, though
there was no sign of a track, and before they had gone far, Perry
whispered a hope that they would not lose their way.

"No fear," said Cyril.  "We are keeping the mountains on our left, and
we must keep them on our right as we go back.  We have only to keep
along till we strike the stream, and follow it up or down till we reach
our fire.  I daresay we shall see it long before we are near, by the
smoke."

They had gone quite a couple of miles without seeing any trace of game,
the woods being wonderfully silent.  The colonel was on in front, and
the two boys about twenty yards behind, each bearing a gun, when Perry
suddenly paused.

"Where's John Manning?" he said.  "I thought he was close up."

They waited, and then whistled several times, but there was no response,
and then Cyril ran back to where the land was more open, but still there
was no sign; and he was about to run forward again, and signal to the
colonel to stop, when the missing man suddenly appeared with his piece
at the trail, running hard, but keeping himself bent down, to avoid
being seen.

"What's the matter?" said Cyril, as the old soldier came up.  "Seen a
deer?"

"No, sir; I only had a suspicion."

"What of?"

"Struck me that Master Diego would come after us to see which way we
went."

"Well?"

"Yes, I hung back to watch, and he's half a mile behind, tracking us by
our footmarks, with his head down, or else he'd have seen me."

"Come on, and tell the colonel."

They hurried forward, and joined Perry, waiting for them anxiously.

"At last," he said excitedly.  "Did you see?"

"See what?"

"Those Indians."

"No.  Where?" said Cyril.

"On both sides, among the trees.  They are watching us.  What ought we
to do?"

"Rearguard closes up on the main body," said John Manning quickly.
"Single file, and at the double.  Now, sir, you head the advance.
March."

Cyril sprang forward to overtake the colonel, looking down as he trotted
forward in search of trampled-down grass and broken twigs; but from the
first he saw nothing, neither could he hear a sound, and after some
minutes' progress, he pulled up short, and breathing hard.

"We had better spread out now," he said, "or we shall overlook him."

"Didn't you see which way he went?" said John Manning.

"Out this way somewhere," said Perry.  "He can't be far away."

"Enemy closing in," said the old soldier in a low voice.  "Forward, my
lads.  We must find him now."

Those last words sent a chill through Cyril, who sprang forward again,
and then nearly uttered a shout; for, about fifty yards in front, he
caught sight of the colonel standing half hidden by the thick growth at
the edge of a clearing, where some dozen or so of men were busy
apparently cutting wood.  Beyond them were two rough huts thatched with
boughs, and piled up in little stacks were fagots of the wood which the
men had cut down.

They were so busy over their task, that they had not noticed the
presence of the colonel, neither did they hear the approaching footsteps
as they worked on.  But the colonel did, and turned and hurried back to
meet the boys, holding up his hand to command silence.  His eyes were
flashing with satisfaction as they came up, and he had a branch of one
of the trees about them in his hand.

"We thought we had lost you," said Perry excitedly.  "What's that?"

"The magic tree I have come all these thousands of miles to seek, boy,
and now--"

"Will you cast your eye this way, sir?" said John Manning, in a hoarse
low voice of warning.  "Indians all around.  Do it mean mischief, or are
they only friends?"

He gave his head a backward wag as he spoke, and as Cyril looked
excitedly in the indicated direction, he saw that which made him thrust
his hand into his pouch to count the cartridges; for if the coming
Indians meant offence, they as travellers were in mortal peril of losing
their lives.

CHAPTER TWELVE.

AT BAY.

To have attempted to escape, the colonel said, would be madness, for it
would have suggested fear of the approaching Indians, and made them
think at once that the visit to their secluded haunts meant no good to
them; so throwing his piece into the hollow of his left arm, and bidding
the others do as he did, Colonel Campion took a few steps forward to
meet the Indians, and held out his hand.

This had the effect of making them halt a few yards from them, and
keeping their faces fixed upon the English party, they talked rapidly
among themselves.

At that moment Cyril caught sight of Diego hanging back among the men in
the rear.

"There's our guide, sir," he said hurriedly.  "Shall I call him?"

"He there?" said the colonel sharply.  "Yes, call him.  No: go through
them, and fetch him, boy."

Cyril hesitated for a moment or two, and his heart beat high; but the
order had been given in true military style, and it had its influence.
The boy felt that he would be backed up by the colonel in all he did,
and throwing his gun over his right shoulder, he stepped boldly forward,
finding that the white was master even here; for the Indians, taken by
surprise at his firmness, parted at once to let him pass, and then
Cyril's pulses beat a little more rapidly, for the men closed up again,
shutting him off from his friends.

The boy felt this, but he knew that he must not show fear, and without a
moment's hesitation, he walked on up to where Diego stood half hidden
behind a couple of the Indians, and clapping his hand upon the man's
shoulder, "Come," he said, "the colonel wants you."

The guide shrank at Cyril's touch, and looked at his fellows for
support, but no one stirred, and uttering a low sigh, the man allowed
himself to be marched away to where the colonel stood, the Indians
giving way on either side, and then closing up again in silence, and
without the slightest show of menace.

For to them it was as if a superior being had calmly passed among them
and fetched one, each man feeling relieved that he was not the one
selected, and that, had he been, he would have felt compelled to go.

"Well done, British boy," said the colonel to Cyril, as he stopped
before him with the guide, who looked of a curious dusky colour now; his
eyes showing the whites around the iris, and his lips seeming parched as
he moistened them hastily with his tongue from time to time.

"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.

But still that blow did not fall, and it seemed to Cyril, as he stood
there holding his breath, that the Indian who had struck at him so
treacherously was waiting until he moved, so as to make sure before
striking again.  At last the painful tension came to an end, for
suddenly, from just in front, there was a heavy sigh, and _crop, crop,
crop_, followed by a burst of laughter from the boy.

"Oh, I say, Perry," he cried, "what a game!  Fancy being scared like
that by a mule."

"Then it was one of the mules?"

"Of course; we frightened the poor thing, and it kicked out at us.  Come
along."

He bore off a little to one side, and they passed the browsing animal,
and, though describing rather an irregular circle, made their way round
the fire, getting back pretty exactly to the place from which they
started.

This was repeated several times, and then, for a change, Cyril proposed
that they should strike off a little, straight away from the camp.

Perry was willing, and they put their plan in operation, for no special
reason other than that of seeing the ground was clear in different
directions, and to relieve the monotony of the watch.

"You lead now," said Cyril, in a low voice, so as not to disturb the
others, who, in thorough confidence that a good watch would be kept, and
that there was no fear of any danger, were sound asleep.

Perry led on, finding the way more open a short distance from the camp,
but he had not led thirty yards when he stopped short.

"Hallo! another mule?" said Cyril.

"Indian!" said Perry huskily; and, as Cyril pressed forward to his
companion's side, there, hard to define, but plain at last, stood one of
the Indians, who raised his arm and pointed back, uttering two or three
words in a guttural tone.

"What does he say?"

"That we must go back to the fire.  Perhaps we had better," said Cyril.
"I don't like his being there, though.  Look here," he said quickly;
"let's make haste back, and go right out the other way."

"What for?" said Perry, following his companion.

"I'll tell you directly."

Five minutes later they were checked just on the other side by another
Indian who started up right in their path.

"Come and warn my father," said Perry excitedly.  "They're going to
attack us."

"No; I think not," replied Cyril decisively.  "They're sentries.  Come
and try another way."

He led off again, after they had returned to the fire, finding that they
were not followed, and that all was still; and again they were stopped
by an Indian starting up and ordering them back.

"That's it," said Cyril quietly; "they've surrounded us with sentries."

"To attack us?"

"No; to see that we don't escape; and while we were walking round and
round, they were within a few yards of us, listening to all our
movements."

"But they couldn't have been there then, or they would have started up
as they did just now."

"No; we weren't doing anything they minded; but as soon as we tried to
go straight away, they stopped us.  Let's try once more."

He led off quickly again, with the same result; and then Perry turned
back to where his father lay asleep.

"What are you going to do?" whispered Cyril.

"Wake up my father, of course.  We are attacked."

"Don't do that," said Cyril decisively.  "We are not attacked, or they
would have seized us at once.  I'm sure they are only guarding us, to
make sure that we don't try to escape.  It's of no use to wake him till
the proper time."

Perry hesitated.

"But we are in danger."

"No; I don't think we are.  They are watching us, but they don't mean to
attack us, or they would do so.  You'll see now.  We've come among them,
and they'll keep us under their eye, and perhaps will not let us go
again.  Look here: let's go and speak to Diego."

Perry was easily led, and yielding to his companion's decisive manner,
he followed to the fire and then round to the other side, where the
Indian guide and his companion were squatted down with their chins
resting upon their chests.

They made no sign as the boys came silently up, and appeared to be fast
asleep; but Cyril knew better, for he saw in the dim glow shed by the
fire, a slight tightening of the man's hand upon his bow.

"They're asleep," whispered Perry.  "Better come to my father."

"Asleep with one eye open, and on the watch," said Cyril quietly, and he
bent down and whispered a few words.

They were electric in their effect, for both men raised their heads, and
their eyes glittered in the faint light from the fire.

"Didn't take much waking," said Cyril, with a little laugh.  Then
turning to Diego, he said, in the man's half-Spanish jargon:

"Why are the Indians on the watch all round here?"

The man looked at the speaker intently.

"Are the Indians watching all round?" he said quietly.

"You know they are.  Why is it?  To keep us from going away?"

The man looked at him intently, and then nodded his head.

"And suppose we try to go away, what then?  Would they fight?"

"Yes," said the guide gravely.

"And try to kill us?"

"Yes, they would kill you."

"Try to, you mean."

"No," said the man gravely.  "Kill you.  You are few, they are many."

"Stop a moment," said Cyril, as the man turned his head aside wearily.
"Will they try to kill us if we stay?"

"No."

Cyril tried to get more information from the man, but he shook his head,
and made a pretence of being so lazy and unable to comprehend the boy's
words, that Cyril gave up in disgust, and turned impatiently away.

"It's of no good to-night," he said.  "We heard all that he is likely to
know.  Let's walk round again."

"But they may strike at us in the dark."

"No, they will not do that.  I'm not afraid.  Let's go through with our
watching, till we think it's midnight, and then wake up the colonel."

"We'd better call him now."

"No; if we did, it would only be giving a false alarm, when we know that
there is no danger.  Come along."

The weaker mind yielded to the stronger, and the march round was begun
again, one which required no little courage, knowing, as the boys did,
that there must be quite a dozen Indians within striking distance, and
every rustle they heard, made probably by one of the grazing mules,
might be caused by an enemy creeping forward to strike a blow.

At last, when they felt that it must be getting toward midnight, Cyril
proposed that they should go back close to where the colonel lay asleep,
and they had not been standing near him ten minutes, hesitating to call
him for fear he should be awakened too soon, when he suddenly made a
hasty movement, opened his eyes, looked round, and sprang to his feet.

"Midnight, boys," he said, "is it not?"

"We don't know, father, and did not like to call you too soon."

"Yes, it must be about midnight," he said decisively, "or I should not
have woke up.  Well, is all right?"

"No, father," whispered Perry.

"Oh yes; there's nothing to mind," said Cyril hastily.  "We only found
that there are a lot of Indians round about the camp."

"You saw them?"

"Yes, sir.  So soon as we moved a little way, a man rose up and stopped
us."

"On one side?" said the colonel.

"All round, sir."

"On guard, then, in case we wished to escape.  We're prisoners, my lad,
for the present.  However, they will not venture to hurt us, unless we
give them good reason, by loading up the mules to take away something
they consider ought to be kept here, and that we shall not be ready to
do for some days to come."

"That's what I wanted Perry to feel sir," said Cyril, "but he would have
it that they were going to attack us to-night."

"There is no fear of that, my boy," said the colonel firmly.  "There,
lie down, and sleep till breakfast-time; there is nothing to fear."

"But are you going to watch alone, sir?"

"Yes, quite alone, my lad," said the colonel, smiling.  "There, take my
place; I'm rested now, and you have nothing to mind.  Don't meet perils
half-way; its bad enough when they come.  Till they do, it is our duty
to be patient and watch.  Afterwards we must fight--if it is necessary.
Now--to bed."

The boys obeyed, and the colonel commenced his solitary watch.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

COLLECTING THE GOLD.

"Ever see 'em ketch eels at home, Master Cyril?" said John Manning one
morning.

"We used to set night lines in the lake at school," said Cyril.  "We
threw the bait out ever so far, and tied the other end to a brick sunk
in the water."

"Oh yes: but I don't mean that way, where every twopenny eel spoils four
pen'orth o' good line and hooks.  I mean with an eel-trap, one of those
made of osiers, so that it's very easy to get in, but very hard to get
out."

"Yes; I saw some of those once," cried Perry, "up by a weir.  But why?
There are no eels here."

John Manning chuckled, and shook all over, as if he enjoyed what he was
saying.

"Not many, sir, but quite enough.  We're the eels, and we've wriggled
ourselves right into a trap, and there's no getting out again."

"It doesn't seem as if there were," said Cyril thoughtfully; "but we're
getting what the colonel wanted, and I don't think the Indians have
noticed it yet."

"'Tain't for want of looking, sir," said the old soldier.  "I go for a
bit of a walk in one direction, and begin picking something, and feel a
tickling about the back.  `Some one's eyes on me,' I says to myself, and
I go a bit farther, and feel the same tickling in front.  Then one side,
then t'other, and it's always eyes watching."

"Yes," said Perry.  "We've been a week here, and I get so sick of it: I
never move without there being some one after me; and the worst of it
is, you don't see him coming, but find him watching you from behind a
rock, or out of a bush."

"Yes," said Cyril, "it isn't nice.  They crawl about like snakes, and
almost as quietly."

"Don't matter," said John Manning, with another chuckle.  "We can be as
cunning as they.  How have you young gents got on since the colonel give
his orders?"

"Pretty well," said Cyril.  "Of course it's of no use to try and get
roots or cuttings, they look too sharp after us; but I've found some
seed, and he has got more than I have."

"How much have you got, both of you together?" asked the old soldier,
with his eyes twinkling.

"Nearly a handful, I should say," replied Cyril.

"A handful, sir!  Why, what's that?  I've got quite half a gallon."

"You have?" cried Perry.  "Father will be so pleased."

"Course he will, sir," said John Manning, with a self-satisfied smile.
"`Get every seed you can,' he says, `and they'll hardly notice you.'

"`Right, sir,' I says, and I set to work quietly, going a bit here, and
a bit there, in among the trees, making believe I was making for them
cocoa-nut leaves as the Indians chew; and whenever I caught one of the
Injuns watching me, I picked a leaf, and began to chew it, and nodded at
him, and said _bono, bono_.  You should have seen how he grinned and
showed his teeth at me, Master Cyril, and I could see he was thinking
what a fool this Englishman was.  But I wasn't quite so stupid as he
thought, eh?"

"But that's not cocoa-nut leaf," said Cyril, "but the leaf of the coca."

"Well, sir, that's what I say.  I know it isn't the nuts but the leaves
they chew."

"But the coca leaf's a different thing."

"Course it is, sir; one's a leaf and t'other's a nut."

"But, don't you see, cocoa-nut leaf and coca leaf are different things?"

"No, sir; but it don't matter.  They think I'm hunting for them leaves
to chew, and they laugh at me, and all the time I'm getting a good heap
of the seeds the colonel wants.  'Tain't the first time he's sent me to
forage."

"But where are the seeds?" said Cyril.

"All right, sir," said John Manning, with a look full of cunning.
"Never you put all your eggs in one basket, sir."

"Of course not; but I hope you've put them in a dry place.  Seeds are no
use if they're not kept dry."

"They're all right, sir.  I've got some in each of my pockets, and some
along with my cartridges in my satchel, and some inside the lining of my
coat, and a lot more round my waist."

"Round your waist?" cried Cyril.  "You can't wear seeds round your
waist."

John Manning chuckled once more.

"Can, if you put 'em in an old stocking first, sir," he said.  "But look
here, young gents, as I'm so much more lucky than you are, and know
better where to go for 'em, you'd better take part o' mine, and leave me
free to fill up again."

"Yes, that will be best," assented Perry.  "I can take a lot in my
pockets."

"Any one looking, sir?"

"Very likely; but I shall take no notice.  They won't know what we're
changing from one pocket to the other, so let them watch."

"All right, sir; then here goes," said the old soldier, thrusting a hand
deep down into his trousers pocket, and drawing out a quantity of seed.
"Here you are, sir; and I'd make believe to eat a bit in case any one is
watching."

But as they were seated out of the sun, in the shade of the rough hut
that had originally been put up for drying the kina bark, they were
pretty well hidden from watchers, and able to carry on the transfer in
comparative secrecy.

"But this isn't seed of the cinchona tree," cried Cyril excitedly.

"What!" said the old soldier sharply, and as if startled.  Then altering
his tone to one of easy confidence, with a dash of the supercilious.
"Don't you talk about what you can't understand, sir.  These here are
what the colonel showed me, and told me to pick for him."

"They're not the same as my father told me to pick," cried Perry.

"Well, seeing as you're young gents, and I'm only a sarvant," grumbled
the man, "it ain't for me to contradict, and I won't; but I will say
them's the seeds the colonel told me to pick, and there they are, and
you'd better put 'em away."

"I'm not going to put these in my pocket," said Cyril, "for I know
they're wrong."

"And I certainly shan't put them in mine," said Perry.

"Look here, young gents, ain't this a bit mutinous?" said John Manning.
"Colonel's orders were that we should collect them seeds, and if you'd
got the best lot, I should have helped you; but as you haven't got the
best lot, and I have, ain't it your duty to help me?"

"Yes; and so we should, if you hadn't made a blunder."

"But I ain't, young gents; these here are right."

"No," said Perry.  "These are right," and he took a few seeds from his
pocket.

"And these," said Cyril, following his companion's example.

"Not they," cried John Manning warmly.  "They ain't a bit like mine."

"No, not a bit," said Cyril triumphantly.

"No, nor his ain't like yours, Master Perry."

The boys stared, for this was a new phase of the question, and they
eagerly inspected the treasures.

"I'm sure I'm right," said Perry confidently.

"And I'm sure I'm right," cried Cyril.

John Manning put his arms round his knees, as he sat on the ground, and
rocked himself to and fro, chuckling softly.

At that point the colonel came up, and looked round wonderingly.

"You're just in time, father," cried Perry.  "Look at this seed John
Manning has collected.--Show him, John."

The old soldier triumphantly pulled out a handful, and held it under the
colonel's nose.

"What's that?" said his master.

"The seed you told me to forage for, sir."

"Absurd!  There: throw it away."

"Throw it away, sir?"

"Of course.  It is not what I told you.  There, take and throw it away,
where the Indians see you do it, and they will pay less attention next
time they see you collecting."

John Manning said nothing then, but went out of the slight hut frowning,
came back, and the colonel turned to the boys.

"Well," he said, "what have you got?"

They both eagerly showed a little of the seed, and the colonel uttered
an ejaculation full of impatience.

"No, no," he said; "pray be careful.  That is not the same as you got
for me the day before yesterday."

"Not mine?" cried Perry.

"No, sir; nor yours either, Cyril.  They are both cinchona, but of the
inferior, comparatively useless kinds."

John Manning chuckled.

"But the seeds are so much alike, sir," said Cyril.

"Yes, but the broken capsules with them are not, boy.  The good splits
down one way, the inferior the other.  There, I suppose I must give you
all another lesson.  Come and have a walk at once."

He led the way out, all taking their guns, in the hope of getting a
little fresh provision, as well as to throw off the attention of the
Indians, who smiled at them pleasantly enough, as they looked up from
their tasks of cutting and peeling the bark from the trunks and
branches, most of the men with their jaws working, as they chewed away
at the coca leaf, which every one seemed to carry in a little pouch
attached to the waist.

No one seemed to pay further heed to them, but they were soon conscious
that they were being watched, for an Indian was visible, when they went
past the spot where their two guides were watching the browsing mules;
and then, as they plunged into the forest, from time to time there was
an indication that they were being well guarded, and that any attempt at
evasion would result in an alarm being spread at once.

Once well out among the trees, the colonel began picking leaf and flower
indiscriminately, to take off the watcher's attention; but he contrived,
at the same time, to rivet the boys' attention upon the flower and seed
of the most valuable of the cinchona trees, indicating the colour of the
blossom, and the peculiarities of the seed-vessels, till even John
Manning declared himself perfect.

"Seeds only," said the colonel.  "I give up all thought of trying to
take plants.  We must depend upon the seeds alone, and we ought to get a
good collection before we have done."

"And then, father?" asked Perry.

"Then we go back as fast as we can, if--"

"If what?" asked Perry.

"The Indians will let us depart."

"That's it, sir," put in John Manning.  "What I was saying to the young
gentleman this morning.  They don't mean to let us go.  We've regularly
walked into a trap."

There was silence for a few moments, the colonel frowning, as if
resenting the interference of his servant, but directly after he said
quietly:

"I'm afraid you are right, John Manning, but we must set our wits
against theirs.  In another week we shall have quite sufficient of the
treasured seed to satisfy me--that is, if you three are more careful--
then we must start back, before our stores begin to fail."

"What about the guides, sir?" said Cyril.  "They will not help us."

"No," said the colonel.  "Not the Indian guides, but I have a little
English guide here, upon which we shall have to depend.  There must be
other passes through the mountains, and we know that our course is due
west.  We shall have to trust to this."

He held out a little pocket-compass as he spoke, and then, after they
had added somewhat to the store of seed already collected, both boys
this time making the proper selection of tree from which to gather the
reproductive seeds, they walked slowly back toward the camp.

But not alone: the Indians who had followed them outward, returning
slowly behind them, carefully keeping far in the background, and trying
to conceal the fact that they were on the watch; but it was only too
plain to all that it would require a great deal of ingenuity to escape
notice and get a fair start when the time came for making their escape.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

PREPARING FOR FLIGHT.

"I say, Cil, I don't quite know what to make of it," said Perry, a few
days later.  "These people are as civil and amiable as can be; they
surely won't try to stop us when we want to go?"

"You wait and see," was the reply.  "They will.  I know them better than
you do."

"But they don't think we have got anything to take away."

"Perhaps not; but they will think that as soon as we are out of their
sight we shall be searching for and taking something away that they want
to preserve, and if we do get away unseen, they will be after us
directly."

"Well, we shall soon see," said Perry rather gloomily, as he sat gazing
down into a deep valley running due south, in whose depths a bright
gleam here and there told of the presence of water.

"Yes, we shall soon know now.  Your father and John Manning have been
carefully examining the mules, and going over the stores and packages."

"Have they?  I didn't know."

"I did, and then they came out here and sat for some time over their
guns."

"On the lookout for birds?"

"On the lookout to see if this way would do for us to escape."

Perry whistled.

"Did they tell you so?"

"No; but I put that and that together."

"Put why go this way?  This does not lead over the mountains."

"Because the Indians will not think we should choose this route."

"But we couldn't get over the mountains from down there."

"We must," said Cyril quietly.

"But," said Perry, "we can't get the mules and their loads away without
Diego knowing."

"Must again," replied Cyril.  "We can't escape without a supply of food,
and we must have the mules to carry it, for we may be weeks wandering
about in the gorges of the mountains.  So it's must, must, must, my lad.
We've got it to do, and we're going to do it."

"I say."

"Well--what?"

"Do you think it will come to a fight?"

"Not if your father can help it; but if it does, we shall have to do
some shooting."

Perry drew his breath hard.

"Don't stare down the valley any more," said Cyril, after a pause.

"Why?  It's very beautiful."

"Because you're watched.  We're watched always, sleeping or waking."

"Then we shall never be able to get away," said Perry despondently.

"Must, my lad.  Why, we're not going to let a pack of half-savage
Indians prove too clever for us.  What are you thinking about?  There,
let's get back at once, or they'll be thinking we mean something by
sitting here."

Perry rose and followed his companion, who made several halts in the
forest before they reached the shelter-hut, to find the colonel and John
Manning away; but they returned soon after, each carrying a couple of
good-sized birds, which gave a colour to their morning's walk.

This game John Manning bore off to prepare by the fire which Diego and
his companion kept going night and day; and as soon as he had gone, the
colonel seated himself, and looked curiously from one boy to the other.

"Well Cyril," he said sharply, "ready to go home and meet your father?"

"Yes, sir," replied the boy promptly.  "I want to get it over."

"And you, Perry, ready to go back to where you can sleep in a decent bed
again?"

"Yes, father," replied Perry; but there was a dubious tone to his words.

"That's right.  Listen, then, both of you.  I trust to you to make no
sign whatever, but to go on precisely the same as usual, so as to keep
the Indians in ignorance of our intentions."

"Then you are going to make a start, sir?" said Cyril eagerly.

"All being well, very soon, my lad."

"But the mules, sir?"

"Ah, we shall see about that," said the colonel.  "I have now got
together quite as much of the seed as I dared to hope for, and it would
be foolish to delay longer.  These Indian labourers are only working for
somebody of importance, and if whoever he may be comes and finds us
here, our position may be made very unpleasant, so I have decided for us
to start at dark, to-morrow evening."

This announcement caused a peculiar fluttering in the breasts of both
lads, for they felt that they would not be able to get away without a
struggle, since that they were detained here until some one in authority
arrived, seemed certain; and they well understood how necessary it was
for them to get away if possible.

The rest of the day passed like a feverish dream to Cyril, whose
thoughts were of a very mingled nature.  On the one hand, there was the
risk to be run in making their escape, and the long perilous journey
before them; on the other hand, there was home at San Geronimo, and his
father's stern face rose before him, full of reproach for his conduct;
and now, more than ever, he asked himself how he could have been so mad
and so cruel to those who loved him, as to leave in the way he had.

Too late for repentance then, as he knew, and he had to face the
inevitable, and take the punishment he deserved as patiently as he
could.

Toward dark the boys found themselves alone with John Manning, who
whispered: "Been over the arms and ammunition, gentlemen, and they're in
splendid order.  Bit touched with rust, but that won't interfere with
their shooting."

"Don't talk about it," said Perry petulantly.

"Can't help it, sir.  We're off to-morrow night, and some of us may have
to cover the retreat.  You can't do that sort o' work without tools."

"Look here," said Cyril eagerly.  "How about the mules?"

"I don't know, sir," replied the old soldier.  "That's the puzzle of it.
But the colonel knows what he means to do, of course.  I've been with
him before, when he was going to make an advance."

"But this is a retreat," said Cyril sharply.

"What, sir?  Retreat?  British soldiers don't retreat.  Of course they
have to make an advance the other way on sometimes.  You can't always be
going in one direction; but they don't retreat.  It'll be all right,
though, sir.  You'll see: for following orders, I've got all the packs
ready to stow on the saddles at a moment's notice, and we shan't leave
nothing behind."

They had a hint soon after of there being a plan all ready, for the
colonel came and hunted Cyril out to act as interpreter, and walked down
with him to where Diego and his companion were seated, while the mules
were browsing here and there, some fifty yards away.

"Now, interpret as well as you can," said the colonel.  "Tell him that I
am very angry about the state of the mules, which look half-starved.
The feed about here is disgraceful, and all the time there is a splendid
supply on the other side of the clearing, beyond where the Indians are
cutting and stacking the bark."

Cyril's voice shook a little from anxiety as he began his
interpretation, but it soon grew stronger, and he gave the colonel's
wishes with so much energy that the guide looked terribly disturbed as
he replied.

"What does he say?" cried the colonel angrily.

"That the head-man of the kina gatherers gave orders that they were to
be pastured here."

"Then tell him to go to the head-man, and say I order them to be moved
at once over to the other side of the huts, ready for me when I wish to
go on."

Diego started off at once, and returned soon after with the head-man and
about a dozen of the Indians, to whom the colonel's wishes were
repeated; and then came quite a deprecating reply that it was
impossible, for the woodcutters were going in that direction the very
next day, and the mules would be disturbed again.

"Tell him my mules are of more consequence than his bark gatherers,"
said the colonel, "and that I insist upon the mules being moved."

There was a laboured interpretation, a short buzz of conversation, and
then a reply came through Diego that the head-man would obey the white
chief's orders, and remove the mules to better pasture; but it could not
be there, in the place he wished.

"Tell him anywhere, so long as the poor beasts are properly fed."

The colonel stalked away, with his rifle in the hollow of his arm, the
Indians giving place obsequiously; but he turned back to Cyril.  "Tell
John Manning to stop and see where they are driven, and then come and
report to me.--You two follow."

Cyril gave the colonel's orders, and then went after him to the hut,
where they sat waiting for nearly an hour before Manning arrived.

"Well, where are the mules?"

"They've driven 'em out of the bit of forest, sir, and down on the other
side toward the slope of that big valley."

"Hah!" ejaculated the colonel; and then, after a pause, "The very spot."

"But you said the other side," said Cyril; "at the back of their huts."

"Where I knew they would not have them," said the colonel.  "It looked
to them, in their childish cunning, like an attempt on my part to get
the animals down toward the point from which we came; and, of course,
they would not do that.  I hardly expected such good fortune, boys; but
the mules are in the very place I wish.  Now we have to devise a means
of getting those mules loaded unseen, and then starting off down the
valley as soon after dark to-morrow night as possible."

A long conversation followed as to those best means, and the colonel
heard each one's proposal impatiently.

Perry said it was impossible, and that they must all take as much
provision as they could carry, and leave the mules behind.

John Manning said there was only one way of doing it, and that was for
him to take the stock off one of the guns, and as soon as it was dusk
creep round the camp, and catch every one of the sentries by surprise,
and then club him, and bind his hands and feet.

"I could stun 'em, sir, and then they couldn't give no alarm."

"You mean, murder the poor wretches," said the colonel quietly.

"No, no, sir; not so bad as that," grumbled the man.  "These Injuns have
got heads as thick as rams.  More likely to spoil the gun."

"Now you, Cyril," said the colonel quietly.

"I can't propose anything, sir," said Cyril frankly.  "It seems to me
that we might pass one or two of the Indians, but the others would see
or hear the mules."

"And you can propose nothing else?"

Cyril shook his head, and the colonel got up and went out of the hut, to
go and walk up and down where the Indians were busy, giving first one a
friendly nod, and then another, evidently to their great satisfaction.

The party in the hut watched him for a few moments, and then John
Manning said:

"There aren't no better way, gentlemen, than mine.  I don't want to kill
none of 'em, so long as they don't try to kill me, or any of you.  If
they do, why, of course, it makes me feel nasty, and as if I could do
anything to stop 'em."

"It's too horrid and butcher like," said Cyril firmly.

"Yes," assented Perry.

"Very well, then, gentlemen, suppose you propose a better way.  It's of
no use to go an' say, `Please we're tired of staying here, and want to
go,' because that only would be waste of breath."

"Yes," said Perry sadly.  "We shall never get away till they give us
leave."

"Hear that, Mr Cyril, sir; that's my young master, and the son of a
stout soldier as never turned his back on an enemy in his life.  Don't
say you're going to give up like that, sir."

"No," said Cyril, setting his teeth.  "I'm not going to give up, and he
is not going to give up either.  We'll get away somehow, though we can't
see the way just now."

"That we will, sir," cried John Manning excitedly.  "Bri'sh wits again'
Injun wits.  Bah! who says we can't beat them?  It's all right,
gentlemen.  I know the colonel, and have known him since he was a slip
of an ensign, and I was not much more than a raw Johnny of a boy fresh
from the awkward squad.  I say I know the colonel, and he's only been
leading us on.  Wait till to-morrow night.  He's got some dodge or
another ready to fire off, and this time two days we shall be on our way
back, and the Injuns'll be howling like mad, because they can't make out
which way we've gone."

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

PERRY'S HORROR.

"How do you feel, Cil?" said Perry, in the middle of that same night.

"Horrible.  Can't sleep.  I am hot and itchy, and all of a fidget about
things."

"Father said we were to take things coolly, when he said good-night."

"Didn't say how, did he?" whispered Cyril.  "I shall be so glad when we
begin doing something.  Anything's better than this waiting to begin.  I
say--"

"Yes."

"Isn't it near morning?"

"No, it ain't," said a gruff voice in an ill-used tone.  "How's a man to
get a good sleep before he relieves the colonel, if you two young gents
keep on twisting about and talking?"

"All right, we'll be quiet now."

"Ay, do, my lads.  Get a good sleep, and have a nap or two to-morrow,
for we shall be travelling all night."

There was silence for the rest of the time in the little camp, broken
only by a weary sigh or two, for no sleep came to the restless lads; and
the next morning found them red-eyed and feverish in spite of the bathe
they had in the intensely cold water of the neighbouring mountain rill.

And all that day they were on the strain, and constantly on the watch
for the colonel, hoping that he would become communicative.  But he was
very quiet, and spent the greater part of the day either sleeping or
pretending, and lounging about watching the Indians busy cutting down
trees, or peeling the boughs and twigs.

John Manning, too, looked wonderfully lazy, and avoided the boys, who at
last began to look at each other in despair.

"I can't make it out," said Perry at last.  "We are not going to-night,
or father would have said something--don't you think so?"

"Don't know."

"But you don't think we can be going?"

"I think we are," replied Cyril, "and they are doing all this to throw
the Indians off their guard."

Dinner-time came, for which meal John Manning had prepared a very
satisfactory dish from some charqui flavoured with fruit and vegetables,
and the boys anxiously waited again for some communication from the
colonel.  But he was still reticent, and after the meal was over, Diego
and his companion were summoned and left to clear the tin bowl which did
duty as a dish, a duty they always carried out to perfection, never
leaving it so long as there was a scrap to finish.

Then came the long, hot, weary afternoon, which the two boys started to
pass under the boughs of a sturdy tree, both feeling their irritability
increase as they listened to the crackling and breaking of wood near at
hand, and the murmur of voices from the Indians, who kept on busily with
their work.

There was a humming noise in the air, as the insects darted here and
there in the hot afternoon sunshine; and from where the two lads lay,
they could see the mountains slope down rapidly into the long deep
valley, filled now with a soft golden haze, while the air was delicious
with the aromatic perfume shed by the trees around.

Cyril felt hot, feverish, and weary still, but at the same time, as he
lay there, it seemed as if that valley at his feet was very beautiful
with the sun lighting it up from end to end, and that it would be a pity
to start that night, before he had had a good restful sleep, and then--
directly after it seemed to him--he felt vexed with Perry for worrying
and shaking him.  The next moment he started up to find that the valley
below looked dark, and the sun was on the other side of the mountains,
while the colonel was standing over him, smiling.

"That's better, boys," he said.  "I'm glad that you have both had a good
rest.  You will be all the fresher for your walk."

"Then you are going to-night, sir?"

"Hush!  Yes; of course.--Perry."

"Yes, father."

"Don't go away, either of you, and you must not look excited.  Come and
have supper--it is ready--and then wait about by the hut while the
guides have theirs.  You will take no notice of anything, but loiter
about outside while John Manning and I act.  But be ready to help, if I
call upon you."

"We'll do all you wish, sir," said Cyril excitedly.

"Then do it calmly," said the colonel.  "Mind this, the Indians must not
have a suggestion that shall make them suspicious.  To them everything
must seem as if we were patiently submitting to our rather easy
captivity.  Come."

The colonel led the way back to the fire, close to which their meal was
spread by John Manning, and as the boys drew nearer, they saw that Diego
and his companion were hanging about as if wondering why they had not
been summoned sooner to partake of the meal.

"Yes, we're late," said the colonel aloud, and setting the example, he
took his place and began to eat as calmly as if nothing important was on
the way.

"Come, boys," he said quietly, "make a good meal, and don't look
anxious; there are some of the Indians coming up.  Recollect what I
said."

Cyril tried to act his part, and said something in a laughing way to
Perry, but it fell very flat.  Still, there was nothing in the scene to
attract attention, and though they were all aware that work for the day
had long ceased near the huts, and the Indians who were not partaking of
their simple meal, were strolling about, and many of them keenly
watching the white party, no head was turned.  At last the colonel asked
if all were done, and then rose and signed to Diego and the other man to
come and take their places.

This they did eagerly, and from where Cyril stood now in the
semi-darkness, he could see the men's faces by the light of the fire,
and that they were eating hungrily.

"Did you look to the mules?" said the colonel in a low voice.

"Yes, sir, all ready."

"That's right.  Now, boys, the Indians have strolled back, and I don't
think they have set any watch yet.  Keep on walking to and fro as you do
sometimes, with your arms on each other's shoulders.  Keep between the
fire and the Indians' clearing, and take no notice of anything you see.
We shall not leave you behind."

Cyril's heart beat violently, and he heard Perry utter a low sigh as he
threw his arm over his companion's shoulder and they began walking to
and fro about twenty yards from their fire, while the low hum of many
voices came from the clearing where the Indians were talking together
before settling themselves for the night.

Meanwhile Diego and his companion were eating away as if they had
suffered a three days' fast, and showed no sign of leaving off, till all
at once, just as the boys turned, they became aware of the fact that the
colonel had gone from the spot where they had seen him last, and that he
and John Manning had suddenly appeared in front of the guides, where
they were eating.  By the light of the fire they saw that guns were
presented at the men's heads, with the effect of making them throw out
their arms to seize their weapons, but before they could effect anything
for their defence, they were thrust backward, and Cyril at the same
moment saw by the firelight Diego lying upon his back, with the
colonel's foot upon his chest, and the other man in a similar position,
held down by John Manning.

"Keep on walking," Cyril said aloud to Perry, for the latter had
stopped, panting and startled, and Cyril felt him quiver as he
half-forced him along.

"What are they going to do?  Kill them?" whispered Perry.

"They're going to master them," replied Cyril.  "Don't speak like that.
Recollect our orders.  It is to save them from being seen."

The boys kept on their walk, watching the proceedings by the fire as
much as they could, but in less than five minutes there was nothing to
see, for both the guides were bound with a hide rope from the mules'
packages; and urged onward by threats from the colonel's and John
Manning's pieces, they had passed out of sight among the bushes in an
enforced stooping position, a faint crackling telling of the direction
in which they had gone, while a louder crackling and snapping told, with
the accompanying blaze, that something had been thrown upon the fire.

"The bows and arrows," whispered Perry, and they kept up their
monotonous tramp to and fro.

"What are they doing now?" said Perry suddenly, and then he started, for
Cyril burst out into a merry laugh, and gave him a sharp slap on the
back, so suddenly, and with such force, that Perry stumbled forward, and
nearly fell.

"Are you mad?" cried the boy furiously.

"Not quite," said Cyril merrily.  "Here, give us your hand, old chap:
I'll haul up.  That's your sort.  Ahoy!  There you are again."

He said all this boisterously, and then in a low whisper:

"Keep it up.  Hit me, or do something.  Two Indians have come up close
to watch."

Perry trembled violently, but he tried to follow out his companion's
plan, and turning upon him, engaged in a mock struggle, each making
believe to throw the other for a minute or two, and then laughingly
resuming their walk to and fro.

Those laughs were very hysterical, though, and Perry's next words came
with gasps as he said:

"See the Indians now?"

"No; they're either gone back or they're hiding."

"Which?  Let's go and see."

"We can't," replied Cyril.  "Our orders are to walk up and down here, as
if nothing were wrong.  Can't you see it will make them believe we are
going on as usual?"

"Yes," said Perry huskily; "but I wish my father would come now."

"So do I."

"Those two may have got the better of them."

"Not they," said Cyril stoutly.  "It would take three Indians to get rid
of your John Manning.  Your father will take care they do nothing.
Don't take any notice.  Hear that?"

"Yes, some one going away through the bushes.  Those two hadn't gone,
and they were hiding."

"Yes."

"But are they both gone now?"

"I only heard one," said Cyril, beginning to whistle a merry tune, but
before he had got through the first strain, there was another faint
rustling among the trees.

"There goes the other," said Cyril quietly, and then he broke into a
loud yawn.  "Heigh--he--ha--hum," he said.  "How dark it has grown."

"Listen," whispered Perry.

"I heard it," said Cyril.  "One of the mules squeaking."

"No, it was a horrible cry.  Some one has been killed."

"There goes another then," said Cyril, as a peculiar sound came from the
forest.

"Yes, they are killing the guides."

"I tell you, it was the squeaking of the mules.  I know the sound well
enough."

"I'm sure you're wrong," protested Perry.

"And I'm sure _you_ are.  If it was the cry of some one being killed,
wouldn't there be a rush of the Indians, to see what was the matter?"

"If they heard it."

"And they would.  Trust them for that.  The mules are excited and
calling to one another.  I believe they are being loaded."

"Oh, how can you take it all so coolly?" groaned Perry.  "My heart beats
as if it would break, and I feel a curious choking sensation at the
throat, and all the time you take it as if there was nothing the
matter."

"Do I?  You don't know," said Cyril.  "I believe I'm worse than you are;
but never mind, try to laugh."

"Laugh," said Perry piteously.  "I feel as if I could sit down and cry."

"Leave that to the girls, lad.  We've got something else to do.  Don't
stop.  We must keep on, so as to keep the Indians from thinking there's
anything wrong.  There, cheer up.  Can you sing any thing?"

"Sing!" cried Perry, in a voice full of reproach.

"Very well, then, I must whistle softly."

He commenced a tune, and got through a few bare.  Then he ceased as
suddenly as he had begun, and began talking.

"I say it was very plucky of your father, wasn't it?  The boldness of
the plan has made it do.  The Indians could not even think we should
make such an attempt."

For a full hour the boys kept up that painful tramp up and down, Perry
growing more and more silent, and Cyril bursting out from time to time
with a little peal of forced laughter.  Twice over, they were conscious
of the presence of the watchful Indians creeping furtively among the
trees; but the actions of the boys allayed their suspicions, and they
went back as softly as they came.

"Was it never to end?" the lads asked themselves, and though neither
made any allusion to their thoughts, they were tortured by fancies of
what might have happened, till at last Perry was certain that, instead
of the colonel and John Manning killing the two guides, these two men
had turned upon them and stabbed them to the heart.

At last the boy could bear this thought no longer.  He fought hard to
keep it to himself, but it would have vent finally, and as they turned
to continue their weary tramp, he suddenly caught Cyril fiercely by the
arm.

"They won't come back to us," he whispered.  "They cannot.  Diego and
the other man turned upon them, killed them, and those were their cries
we heard.  They're both dead, Cil--they're both dead."

"And your father has come to tell us he has been killed," said Cyril,
with a forced laugh, which was more like a hoarse cry of agony.  "At
last," he groaned: "I don't think I could have borne it any longer."

"What do you mean?" said Perry.

"There--by the fire.  Here they come."

Perry looked sharply round in the direction pointed out by his
companion, and then the pulses of both seemed to stand still, for they
heard the approach of Indians from the direction of the clearing.
Almost at the same moment, they could plainly see by the faint light of
the fire, not the colonel and John Manning coming to fetch them at last,
but the figures of the guides bending down, and then beginning to
approach, in the soft furtive manner of a couple of wild beasts about to
make their fatal spring.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

ADVENTURES OF A NIGHT.

"He was right," muttered Cyril, as the blood rushed to his head and made
him feel giddy; "and now they mean to have us, but--"

He stopped short, and his teeth made a grating sound as he seized Perry
by the shoulder.  "Can you fight?" he whispered.  "I--I don't half
know," groaned Perry.  "I'll try."

"That's right.  We must," the boy continued.  "They shall find we're
English after all."

"What are you going to do?" said Perry, holding on by his companion's
arm.

"Get our guns.  They're close by the fire there.  What are those two
doing?"

"I don't know," was the reply, and Perry gazed hard at the two guides,
who were stooping about the fire.  "Yes, I do; they're putting on more
wood."

"Then, as soon as they come toward us, we must run round and try to get
our guns."

They stood in the darkness watching for some moments, while the guides
still busied themselves about the fire, wandering here and there, as if
busy about something; though, after seeing the flames rise, on the first
portion of wood being added, their object appeared vague.

All at once the rustling toward the clearing recommenced, and the boys
looked sharply in that direction, fully expecting that the first attack
would come from there; but the sound grew fainter, and they knew that
the Indians must be going back, apparently satisfied with their
scrutiny.  This meant the danger lessened for the moment by one half;
and Cyril now gripped his companion's shoulder more tightly.

"Now, then," he said, "let's get round by the trees to the other side."

"Too late," said Perry; "they are coming here."

Cyril glanced toward the fire, but no one was visible.  In the brief
moments during which their backs were turned, the guides had
disappeared, and all was silent; not a sound suggested the spot from
which the enemy would advance.

"We must chance it," whispered Cyril.  "Quick; come along this way.
Quiet."

They started away to their right, so as to get round to the back of the
fire; but as fate had it, they went right into the arms of those whom
they were seeking to avoid.  Not forty steps had been taken cautiously
through the dark shadows beneath the trees, before Perry uttered a cry
as the two guides sprang up in their path.

"This way, Cil; run," he whispered.

"Hush!  Silence!" came in a familiar voice.  "Don't you know us, boys?"

Both Cyril and Perry were speechless, so great was the emotion caused by
the surprise, and they stared at the dimly-seen, bare-headed figures
wearing the Indians' long, loose garments.

"Now, quick," said the colonel, stripping off the Indian frock, "off
with yours, too, Manning."

The man obeyed with all a well-drilled soldier's celerity and silence,
and, stooping down, the colonel was about to thrust the cotton garments
in amongst the undergrowth, when Cyril, who had now recovered himself,
whispered a few words to the colonel.

"Good!  Capital!" he said.  "Only quick, and we'll wait here."

Cyril snatched at the two frocks, and, stooping down, laid them, well
stretched out, at a short distance from the fire, where, in the dim
light, they gave a rough idea of covering a couple of Indians stretched
out in sleep.

It was only the work of a minute, and then Cyril was back to where Perry
stood excited and nervous, for the feeling was strong upon him that,
after all, his father and Manning had slain the two guides.

"Where are the mules?" said Cyril to the colonel.

"Silence!  Follow.  Stoop till we are well beyond the fire."

"But our guns, sir?" said Cyril.

"I said silence, boy!" replied the colonel, and they went off in single
file for about a couple of hundred yards in and out among the trees,
till the colonel stopped short, and the boys made out that they were
standing by the mules, which were waiting, all ready laden, and with
hanging heads, ready to proceed on their journey.  Then, without another
word, the colonel took the rein of the old leader, started off, and
steadily and quietly the others followed, the unladen last, while John
Manning and the two boys followed for some time.

"Here, take your fireworks, my lads," whispered John Manning at last.
"Pouches are fastened to 'em, and well filled with ammunition.  I'll
help you to put 'em on as we go."

All this in a whisper, and then Perry said: "You thought of our wanting
them, then?"

"Rum sort of soldier if I hadn't, my lad," growled the man.  "Steady.
Keep on walking.  Under your right arm, my lad.  That's it.--Now you,
Mr Cyril."

"Mine's on all right," was the reply; and then it was always onward and
downward, in and out among the trees, with all around so dark beneath
branches, that, but for the steady, slow pace of the mules, which never
hesitated for a moment, the journey would have been next to impossible.
And all the time, as the rustling, soft, trampling noise made by the
animals' hoofs went on, very few words were spoken, for every ear was
attent and strained to catch the first announcement of the pursuit
having begun.

The two boys felt no inclination to converse, but tramped on silent
enough, while, when anything was said, John Manning was the speaker.  He
would begin by enjoining silence in the ranks, and the minute after,
find he had something he must say.

"Don't think they've took the alarm yet, gentlemen," he said, after a
long time.  "That dodge o' yourn with the Injuns' frocks was splendid.
When they do come, take your word from me, as I command the rearguard;
and fire low, for we must give them a volley."

Perry shrank from their old servant involuntarily, for it seemed to him
horrible that John Manning should speak in so cheery a tone from time to
time, when, only a short time back, he had imbrued his hand in the blood
of their two guides.  But at last he felt constrained to speak, the
words coming forth unbidden.

"Those two guides," he said huskily.

"Ay, poor chaps, it seemed hard, sir," replied the old soldier; "but it
was us or them, and, of course, it had to be them.  We was obliged to do
it, or else how was I to get the mules loaded?"

"But it seems so horrible," said Cyril.

"Oh, I don't know, sir.  Sort o' tit for tat.  They wouldn't ha' been
very particular about us, and it was, as you may say, in self-defence.
But, I say, Mr Cyril, don't you think I got all those packs down to the
mules pretty quick, and the beasts laden?"

"Wonderfully quickly," said Cyril.

"It was, sir, though I say it as shouldn't say it.  I did get warm over
the job.  Thought I should have had no end o' trouble with 'em, but they
took it as quietly as lambs; and as soon as they found out what was
going on, the pack-mules all hung together and waited their turns, while
the saddle mules seemed to be looking on."

"Of course that was after the--after Diego and the other man--"

"Of course, sir.  There'd ha' been no mule packing if we'd left those
two chaps to lift up their lovely voices, and shout to their friends for
help.  That would not have done, eh, Mr Cyril?"

"No; I suppose not, if we were to escape."

"And that's what we had to do, sir; for, as the colonel said to me more
than once, `We're not safe, John Manning, for sooner or later they'll
find out why I have come, and then I would not answer for our lives.'
But we're off now in spite of 'em, and well provisioned too.  My word, I
did get a warming over those mules; but the colonel's wonderful handy at
the loading, and helped me well.  You see, he superintended a lot out in
India, when we had mules and camels to carry our baggage.  And we did it
all fine.  Listen."

They paused, but the faint pattering of the mules' hoofs was the only
sound; and they followed on again, John Manning keeping silence for a
time, and then bursting out with a chuckle.

"I told you so yes'day, young gentlemen.  The colonel 'll have some
dodge to get us off, and there you are!  He led, and it was grand the
way in which he had worked it out.  He didn't tell me till to-night, and
when he had done, I laughed out.  `Think it will do, John Manning?' he
said.  `Do, sir?'  I says.  `Of course it'll do;' and it's done.  Don't
suppose those two liked it much, poor fellows, but they had to put up
with it."

"Oh, John Manning," cried Perry excitedly, unable to bear it any longer,
"how can you treat it so lightly?  If you had tied and bound the poor
wretches, it would have been different, but to drag them away and kill
them in cold blood!  It is horrible."

"Well I _am_ blessed!" exclaimed the old soldier, in a tone and with an
emphasis that showed how he was startled.

"And I'll never believe that my father meant it to be so."

John Manning gave Cyril a dig with his elbow, and he winked one eye, but
the act was invisible in the darkness.

"Why, it was him as 'vented the plan, sir.  I only helped carry it out."

"Oh!" ejaculated Perry.

"Hadn't we got to escape, sir?"

"But in such a way!"

"Why, it was a splendid way, Master Perry.  But I say I am ashamed of
you to go private court-martialling your own father in that way, and
find such fault with him for helping you to get off!"

"I'm not going to judge him," said Perry.  "I only say it was horrible."

"Well, yes, sir, it was, and is," said the old soldier, giving Cyril
another dig.  "Can't say as I should like to lie all night on my back
with my hands tied behind me to a big pole, and my ankles and knees
served the same, just as if I was going to be roasted for a cannibal's
dinner, and to make it worse, an old worsted stocking rammed into my
mouth, and a cloth tied over it and behind my neck, to make sure I
didn't get it out."

"What!" cried Perry.

"I said a stocking rammed into my month, sir, so as I shouldn't holler,
only breathe.  It is hard on a man, but what was you to do?"

"Then you didn't kill them," cried Perry joyfully.

"Kill 'em," said John Manning, in a tone full of disgust.  "Did you ever
know a British soldier, as was a soldier, go killing folk in that way,
sir, when they'd been made prisoners?  Master Perry, sir, I'm ashamed o'
you for thinking such a thing o' your father, as is as fine an officer
as ever stepped."

"Not so much ashamed of me as I am of myself," said Perry huskily.
"Then Diego and the other man are all right?"

"They don't think so," said the old soldier with a chuckle.  "They're
precious uncomfortable by this time, for I rammed the stockings pretty
far, and I tied them knots with those new hide ropes as tight as they'd
draw."

"Quiet there, quiet," said the colonel sternly, for he had stopped and
let the mules pass him.  "No more talking for the present.  Can you hear
anything?"

"No, sir, not a sound," said John Manning.  But even as he spoke there
was a faint cry borne on the night wind from high up the valley, and
situated as they were, that sound could only have one meaning--pursuit.

CHAPTER NINETEEN.

THE DARK WAY.

"They've missed us," said Cyril excitedly.  "Shall I run to the leader,
sir, and hurry him on?"

"No, my lad," said the colonel, "we shall do nothing by hurrying.  Our
retreat must be carried out slowly.  We can get on no faster than the
mules will walk.  Keep on as we are."

He left them after listening for a few minutes, and hurried forward to
reach his place again by the leading mule, for the sagacious beast had
gone steadily on, followed by the others, acting as if it knew its duty
as well as a human being--that duty being to follow the easiest course
offered by the valley, which ran parallel with one of the outer ranges
of foot-hills, there being no track whatever to act as guide.

"Sounds quite reviving," said John Manning in a whisper.  "We've had so
much dull do-nothing times, that it quite freshens one up."

"How long will it be before they overtake us?" said Perry anxiously.

"How long have we been coming here, sir?" replied the old soldier.

"I don't know--an hour, I suppose."

"Yes, sir, an hour.  Well, if they knew the way we came and followed on,
it would take them hours more than it has taken us."

"Why?" said Cyril sharply.

"Why, sir? because," said John Manning, with one of his dry chuckles,
"they'll have to come along very slowly, searching among the trees as
they come, for fear of overrunning the scent; for as it's dark, they've
got nothing to guide 'em, and I hope they won't find much when it's
light, for the sun will soon dry up the dew which shows the marks made
by brushing it off.  We're all right till they hit the track we've come,
and that won't be till some time to-morrow, if they hit it then."

"Oh, they'll know the way we've come," said Perry, who was breathing
hard from excitement.

"They must be very clever then, sir," said John Manning drily.  "I
should say they'll think we've made for the way we came."

"Speak lower," said Cyril.  "Why?"

"Because, says they, these white fellows haven't got any guides now, and
they only know one road, so they're sure to take it."

"Yes, that sounds likely," said Perry sharply; "but how was it we could
hear them shouting?"

"I know that," said Cyril.  "The air is so clear right up here in the
mountains, and the wind is this way.  It's like seeing.  You know how
close the peaks seem when they're twenty miles away."

"Yes, sir, and sounds run along a hollow like this wonderfully.  Why, I
remember in one of the passes up in India, we in the rearguard could
hear the men talking right away in the front as easily as if we were
close to them."

"But look here," said Cyril.  "Diego or the other fellow must have seen
which way we came."

"They must have been very sharp then, sir, for I took care to tie a
little biscuit bag over each of their heads, only I left holes for their
noses to come out and breathe.  Don't you fret, young gentlemen; we've
got the start, and I don't believe the fight 'll begin 'fore to-morrow
evening, if it do then."

"You know, then, that it will come to a fight," said Perry.

"Well, say a skirmish, sir.  We in the rearguard 'll have to be divided
into three companies, and keep on retiring one after the other, and
taking up fresh ground to protect the baggage-train.  It's all right,
gentlemen, and it'll be quite a new experience for you both.  You'll
like it as soon as the excitement begins."

"Excitement?" cried Perry.  "Suppose one of us is shot."

"Ah, we don't think of that, sir, in the army," said John Manning.  "We
think of the enemy getting that.  But, if one of us is so unlucky, why,
then, he'll be clapped on a mule's back and go on with the
baggage-train."

The two boys stopped then to listen, but all was silent save the faint
rustling made by the mules in front as they went steadily onward in
their leader's track.  The night was dark, but the stars glittered
brilliantly overhead in a broad strip which showed how deep down the
valley had grown, and how wall-like the sides rose in their blackness.

"I say," whispered Perry, stopping short.  "Doesn't it make you feel
shivery?"

"No," said Cyril.  "Shuddery.  We seem to be going on, down and down, as
if this were a slope leading right underground.  I shall be glad when
the daylight comes, so that we can see where we are going.--Hear any one
coming?"

"No, but let's go on, or we may be left behind."

"Well, we are left behind now."

"But suppose we missed the others.  It would be horrible."

"No fear," said Cyril; "the valley's getting narrower and narrower, and
if we keep on, we're sure to overtake the mules."

Cyril was right, for in a few minutes they heard the faint patter of the
hoofs again, and were glad to keep close in the rear, for instinctively
the patient beasts picked out the easiest way.  And now from being a
smooth, grassy, park-like, open valley, the route they followed began to
contract into a gorge, from whose wall-like sides masses of stone had
been tumbled down in the course of ages, till the bottom was growing
more difficult to traverse every mile they passed; while, for aught they
knew in the darkness, they might be skirting precipice and pitfall of
the most dangerous kind, depending, as they were, entirely upon the
mules.

They had suggestions of there being unknown depths around, for to their
left there was the gurgling, rushing sound of water, apparently deep
down beneath the fallen stones, sometimes louder, sometimes dying away
into a murmur; till all at once, as they turned a corner into sudden,
complete darkness--for the long band of starry light overhead was now
shut out--they were startled by a deep echoing, booming roar, and a
chilling damp air smote them in the face as it came down, evidently from
some gorge to their right, which joined the one along which they had
travelled.

It needed no explanation.  Light failed, but they knew as well as if
they were in broad sunshine that they were face to face with a huge
cascade which came gliding down from far on high into some terrific