CHAPTER VIII

THE GOLD-SEEKERS

The bar and store which Señor Sanda had set up in the heart of the gold-prospecting district stood on the banks of a stream which, some three days' march farther on emptied itself into the Oyapok, a river which constituted the frontier between French Guiana and Brazil. The bar was an establishment similar to those, called _albacen_, which are to be found in the forest solitudes of Gran Chaco.

Here everything was sold that could be of use to the worker in the forest--tools, provisions, preserves, tinware, clothes, arms, munitions and every variety of alcohol. It was at once a bar and a grocer's shop. It was likewise a gaming-house. Men entered it with their pockets well filled with gold dust, and left it to work in the "sluices," having lost their all. Other men quickly made a fortune, but they did not keep it long. Truth to tell, Señor Sanda was the only man in the place who grew rich.

One Sunday, in the large saloon bar, constructed of wooden planks with a corrugated iron roof, men were having an exciting game at the table, at the far end of the room, near the counter behind which Sanda, assisted by his "boys," was serving out rum and Indian spirits to chance customers.

At the gaming-table gold dust passed from one hand to another, and little bags were emptied on the turn of the dice or filled to an accompaniment of shouts, protests and a general uproar, which were followed suddenly by intervals of intense silence.

Near the door the Parisian, the Burglar, the Caid and the Joker were seated at a table with a bottle before them. They were chatting somewhat furtively as they eyed, by turns, the proprietor, new arrivals as they came in, and the table at the other end at which a mad game was in progress.

"We might imagine ourselves at the Jockey Club," said the Joker.

"You dry up," said the Parisian.

The four men had no gold dust. They were penniless, but they were in possession of an important secret which had brought them to that village and filled them with a dim but splendid hope. They had overheard Chéri-Bibi and the Nut's conversation about Yoyo and his hoard of gold.

Consequently they had performed surprising feats, marching day and night in order to arrive at the diggings before the two men.

During the last twenty-four hours they had been hunting, without success, for Yoyo. At last they ran aground at Sanda's bar, and were now seated with a bottle in front of them for which, seemingly, they would find some difficulty in paying.

Suddenly the Parisian stood up and said:

"Don't you trouble about me, but go on with your chatter." And he showed them a set of dice with which they were quite familiar.

He went to have a look at the men at the gaming-table where a certain amount of disorder reigned. The men were arguing about a throw of the dice. The Parisian forked out a piece of linen which might possibly have been a handkerchief with a knot at the end of it containing an appreciable quantity of the precious metal.

He took a hand in the game.

His first victim was a woolly-headed half-breed, who came from the diggings with a well-lined belt. Half an hour later he had lost the lot. He swore, for that matter, that he had been robbed, and the quarrel was about to lead to blows, for two other diggers had come in and taken sides against the Parisian, when Señor Sanda stepped between them and declared that he only allowed gentlemen who were above suspicion to enter his place. Sanda exercised absolute authority. He could expel from his gaming club anyone who failed to meet his approval without having to consult any committee of management.

The Parisian, in the manner of a great aristocrat, at once ordered the most expensive drinks and invited everyone to have a drink with him, paying a large sum in advance to Señor Sanda without moving a muscle of his face. Then the Parisian, as he had foreseen, was favored with Sanda's smile, and the sound of the dear man's voice was as pleasant to hear as the gold dust was pleasant to look upon.

The Burglar, the Caid and the Joker joined them and took part, as may well be imagined, in the general carouse.

"I've unloosened the tongue of the pub-keeper," said the Parisian. "We must try to make the most of it."

The Parisian poured the gold dust which he had won into his wide-brimmed felt hat, and letting it run through his fingers, said to Sanda:

"Poor beggars! I've probably taken the result of six months' work away from them."

"Oh, not many of them make their fortunes in the diggings apart from a few Indians who discover a real vein and hide themselves from Europeans as though they were the plague . . ." returned Sanda. "See that man passing over there?"

"Where?"

"Opposite the bar. . . . That's a celebrated magician. He knows where the gold is, does that man. . . . He's called Yoyo."

The Parisian made a dash for the window. He saw a man going past who was in the full vigor of youth.

His appearance was somewhat startling, and even demoniacal. He wore his hair plaited in little tresses. He had a fine figure and moved gracefully. It would be difficult to withstand his flashing gaze.

The convicts kept their eyes fixed on him.

"He comes here to buy the necessaries for the _yaraqué_ feast, which is the most important event of the year. The Indians carry through the village their flags made of basket-work, which they fix on tall bamboos, beat on their various drums, and play a sort of flute made from dead men's bones."

At that moment one of the gamblers, who had procured a little gold, challenged the Parisian to a fresh game. The Parisian imagined, from the appearance of the saloon, that it would be difficult to refuse to play, and he sat down once more opposite his partners; but, turning to the Burglar and his chums, he threw a glance in the direction of Yoyo, who was entering a hut on the other side of the street, and one of them went out to follow the Indian's tracks.

In the meantime night had fallen quickly, and Chéri-Bibi and the Nut had come in. They were feeling worn out, and did not stop in the village until they reached Sanda's store.

When they entered the bar the proprietor and his customers were so intent upon the game that their arrival passed entirely unobserved. They went to a table some distance from the lamps, and threw their bags down in a dark corner beside them.

Then Chéri-Bibi stood up to inspect some cooking utensils which were hanging on the wall and which, on the way, he had decided to buy.

The Nut, overcome with fatigue, holding his head in his hands, did not seem to have the strength to give an order. Nevertheless he turned his head at the sounds which came from the other end of the room. Curses and yells of fury went up against the turn of the dice. The Parisian insolently continued to win.

Suddenly the Nut gave a start. Someone was speaking whose voice he seemed to recognize, and yet it could not be.

He rose from the table and drew near the gamblers. The dice were thrown again.

"Those dice are loaded!" a loud voice broke out.

The Nut, who had flung out the accusation, stared at the gambler with blazing eyes. His heart was swelling with an unspeakable hatred. The Parisian. . . . The Parisian was before his eyes. . . . The man who had tortured him for such long years.

"That man has robbed you!"

The gamblers made a rush at the Parisian, but the Nut shook off the human cluster which stood between him and his enemy.

"No, no. . . . Leave him to me," he cried. "This man is my affair. He falls to my lot. Oh, how long I've waited for this moment!"

Chéri-Bibi tried in vain to intervene. The Parisian and the Nut, locked in a deadly embrace, were rolling on the floor.

As soon as hostilities broke out Sanda saw that the affair would end in a free fight and, as was his duty, sent one of his "boys" to warn the headman of the place. And at the height of the struggle, as the Parisian was gasping for breath under the pressure of the Nut's fingers, the saloon was plunged into complete darkness. The Parisian's confederates had put out the lamps. Someone shouted:

"Police!"

The police had, in fact, arrived. The lamps were lighted again, and it was seen that the birds had flown. . . .

Sanda remarked to the headman:

"Fortunately for me, my customers pay in advance!"

Saved from the Nut's clutches by the cunning and devotion of his friends, the Parisian soon recovered his senses, and in particular, his perception of their position. The main thing for them was not to lose sight of Yoyo.

The four convicts felt certain that Chéri-Bibi was unaware of the medicine-man's appearance in the village, and it was with full confidence in their scheme that they followed Yoyo's tracks as soon as he once again made his way into the forest.

Yoyo led them during a part of the night into an almost impenetrable wilderness; but when dawn broke they realized that they had lost trace of him. For hours they endeavored, without avail, to recover the scent. They held a consultation, and finally determined to return to the village, for they ran some risk in that part of the jungle of losing their way, which would mean death to them. . . .

At the village they would be able to buy such things as they stood in need, particularly fire-arms, and leave the place and wait patiently until Chéri-Bibi and the Nut passed the frontier into Brazil, for when the two men came back from visiting Yoyo they would be laden with gold. The Parisian and his gang were fully aware of the part of the coast from which the Nut would attempt to sail for Europe. . . . The plan was adopted with enthusiasm.

Meanwhile Chéri-Bibi and the Nut had also entered the forest. Chéri-Bibi went forward with confidence owing to the landmarks which had been set up some years before; and suddenly, as he was passing under a giant tree, something fell into his arms. It was Yoyo--Yoyo, who, perceiving that he was being followed, had climbed into a tree with the agility of a monkey--Yoyo, who had recognized Chéri-Bibi.

The Nut was presented to him with due form and ceremony. Yoyo was a medicine-man who seemed to be conversant with the usages of polite society and to value them more than anything else.

"I'm the man who told him all about the benefits of civilization," said Chéri-Bibi, with a touch of pride. Nevertheless, the presence of a gang of undesirables in the neighborhood, to which he drew attention--Chéri-Bibi recognized from Yoyo's description that he was referring to the Parisian and his confederates--curtailed his demonstrations of friendship, which the medicine-man's personality rendered well-nigh sacred; and when Yoyo had expressed to Chéri-Bibi how rejoiced his family would be to see him again, the three of them plunged into the very depths of the Macuano country in which Yoyo lived.

When Chéri-Bibi and the Nut reached the place they received a very touching welcome. The old mother, the young sister and brothers vied with each other in their kindness to the new-comers. They served a concoction for the evening meal which brought the tears to Chéri-Bibi's eyes.

Never had fish and pimento been so tastily prepared for the convict's palate, and he declared that he had never eaten anything so good, even in the days when he was in hiding in a fisherman's hut in Martigny, after a sorry story of an attempted murder of a gendarme, the mock-heroic episodes of which he recalled not without a certain whimsical humor.

The story was, it seemed, entirely in Chéri-Bibi's favor, for he had taken upon himself to defend a young girl who appeared to be in some danger; but the misfortune was that the jury suspected that the danger came from Chéri-Bibi himself. And he concluded: "I expected that, but when your conscience is clear you can afford to treat the rest as a good joke."

The natives, who were extremely quick-witted, listened to Chéri-Bibi with absorbed attention. The evening wore on in most agreeable fashion as Chéri-Bibi indulged in his recollections as a criminal, for he deferred the consideration of serious business to the morrow. As to the Nut, he was like a man in a dream.

He no longer allowed himself to be astonished at anything. The most amazing incidents seemed to him to be quite normal. He knew beforehand that anything might happen to him, and, adopting Chéri-Bibi's philosophy, was prepared for everything. A day or two ago it was the penal settlement, convicts, warders; yesterday it was the fearsome Oyaricoulets, and the not less fearsome Parisian; that night it was an excellent dinner, winding up with stories of which the least that could be said was that they were in keeping with the fantastic nature of the events which were in store for them. To-morrow! What would happen to-morrow. Oh, yes, Chéri-Bibi had promised him that to-morrow he would be a millionaire!

And in very truth he did become a millionaire. After a good night's rest, which was the first that they had passed in safety since their departure from île Royale, Yoyo suggested to Chéri-Bibi that they should set out with him. . . .

They came to a clear stream in which the medicine-man's brothers and women-folk were engaged in obtaining gold by washing the alluvial gravels.

It is well known that this particular region is one of the richest in the world, and nearly every river contains gold in appreciable quantities. But the difficulties which are involved in obtaining it, and the impossibility for Europeans to live in the primeval forest, renders the collection of the gold exceedingly arduous. To secure remunerative results, large companies with considerable capital at their command are necessary. The individual prospector who refuses to become a worker for others is fated soon to be discouraged or to perish. In comparison with the few who grow rich by a lucky accident, what great numbers go under!

The native can overcome these disadvantages. Nevertheless, when he has discovered a lode, or some creek containing a larger amount of the metal than usual, he is plundered, or rather, compulsorily dispossessed, according to the rigor of the law of ownership established by white men. Thus, learning from experience, he hides himself and works entirely alone.

For many years Yoyo and his family had labored for Chéri-Bibi. What was the nature of his tremendous services to them that they should become his slaves? "I saved Yoyo's life," said Chéri-Bibi modestly. The truth was that one day, when tired of the settlement, he escaped and was taking a holiday on the Upper Oyapok, he saved the entire family from destruction by a man-eating tribe. . . . "But that," as Kipling says, "is another story."

Chéri-Bibi having given the signal, Yoyo led the way over a swamp, concealed by bamboos. Undoubtedly they would have been engulfed in the swamp but for stones which had been secretly laid down in the mire and were scarcely visible, but which held them up as they walked across.

Each man had but to imitate the movements of Yoyo. One of his brothers who, with a proud air, leaned on the handle of a pickaxe, was the last to cross over. Thus they landed on an islet of moss-covered boulders whose approach was guarded by this belt of mud. They made their way into a narrow circular space surrounded by rising ground.

"Here we are!" exclaimed Yoyo.

He spoke a few quick words to his brother, who inserted his pick under a stone of some considerable size which looked as if it were immovable, but all the same it almost at once swung on a pivot, exposing to view a crevice filled with thick moss.

The men shifted the moss and a leather bag could be seen. The magician bent forward and untied the complicated fastenings. It was apparent, that the bag was filled with gold dust. . . .

When, two days later, they crossed the Oyapok and, at the same time, the Brazilian frontier, Chéri-Bibi heaved a deep sigh of relief, and said to the Nut, pointing to the bag which Yoyo and one of his brothers had carried so far, and to the landscape which lay before them:

"Fortune and liberty!"

"It is to you that I shall owe both. I shall never forget it."

The Nut had first refused to accept this royal gift. He could not understand how it was that with such wealth, and friends like Yoyo, Chéri-Bibi remained so long at the penal settlement and was quite ready to go back to it.

"Come with me to Europe, or, if that is impossible, live here with Yoyo," he entreated him. "Anything is better than life in the convict settlement."

At first he received in reply merely one of those terrible grins which placed an impassable gulf between Chéri-Bibi and mankind. Those who saw that grin understood that something was on the other side of the abyss, something entirely remote from them, apart from them, apart from everything; some mysterious thing which they would never unravel, and they did not persist.

Nevertheless a few minutes later Chéri-Bibi made an effort to enter into an explanation for the Nut's benefit, to which he would never have consented with anyone else. It seemed that the moment was not yet come for Chéri-Bibi to see Europe once more. He had the most profound reasons for his decision. Obviously he would amass a fortune before that particular hour struck, but since it was still far distant, the Nut could accept the gold with an easy conscience, inasmuch as Yoyo would have ample time to collect together another hoard. In so far as the penal settlement was concerned, Chéri-Bibi added, with a demoniacal laugh, he should return to it by choice.

"Not forgetting that I cannot do without certain news which can only reach me there."

Yoyo put an end to the discussion by announcing that the canoe, which they required in order to descend the Oyapok, would be ready that evening. He had bought one from the Indians. It was of fair size, hewn in one piece from the trunk of a huge tree.

Yoyo steered her, seated in the stern, singing the while the plaintive ballads of his country.

The journey proceeded without let or hindrance, and when they were within a few miles of the sea they landed and made the rest of the way by land in Brazilian territory, arriving thus at Cape Orange. At this place there was an inn, which was well and favorably known in the district for its admirable treatment of travelers. The proprietor did not worry his customers by asking them indiscreet questions as to whence they came, nor as to their previous careers, which usually had brought them, more or less, in contact with the police. Moreover, the landlord, who was called Fernandez, was a friend of Chéri-Bibi's.

An exuberant delight bubbled over his truculent features when his eyes fell upon him.

"Oh, here's the 'Shower,'" he said.

This was his name for Chéri-Bibi, who became by accident one of his customers and whom he did not know in any other way. One day Chéri-Bibi got him out of his difficulties, when he was well nigh bankrupt and in the slough of despair, by literally showering bank-notes on him, which Fernandez accepted without asking whence they came.

Chéri-Bibi, therefore, had a friend in Fernandez who was almost as devoted to him as Yoyo, and upon whom he could rely when he needed him. A man who kept an inn on the outskirts of the forest, over the frontier, could not fail to be useful to a "convict on the march." Chéri-Bibi maintained that here again he had done a good stroke of business for himself.

Fernandez's household consisted of his wife, who was still a handsome woman, and two graceful and sprightly young daughters who, at their father's bidding, paid their respects to Chéri-Bibi and proceeded to prepare a special supper.

"Business getting on all right?" asked Chéri-Bibi when they were all together in Fernandez's private room with a bottle of golden wine before them.

"Bless me, yes," he returned. "What with convicts, gold-diggers, smugglers and pirates I hold my own."

The Nut asked for news of the great war.

"Very unsatisfactory for France," said Fernandez, shaking his head. "But the steamer which puts in here to-morrow morning may bring us better news."

"I thought that the boat from the Antilles did not reach here for another week," said Chéri-Bibi.

"That's true," returned Fernandez, "but a boat now starts from Martinique, and calls at the ports along the coast on dates announced beforehand. She has to pick up Frenchmen of military age coming from the interior to join up."

Chéri-Bibi turned to the Nut.

"That's just the very thing to meet the wishes of my friend Didier d'Haumont, who has left his business on the Upper Oyapok--a very fine and prosperous business--to go back to France and do his duty. Only, old chap, Didier d'Haumont came away in such a tearing hurry that he absolutely forgot to bring his wardrobe with him. As I know you always have these things on hand, I hope that he won't be much the worse for it."

"Your friend will be able to get anything he wants here," returned Fernandez, bowing to the Nut with every mark of politeness.

"That's all right then. You'll go with my friend to the ship, of course?"

"Your friend won't need any help but mine, and I'll introduce him to Captain Lalouette, an old acquaintance, who will be very glad to be of service to him."

"So that's settled," said Chéri-Bibi, bluntly, concealing his emotion. "But what's happened to our friend Yoyo?"

At that moment Yoyo came into the room. Chéri-Bibi must have read some uneasiness in the expression of his face for he asked him what was the matter.

"Nothing; all goes well," replied Yoyo somewhat laconically.

They sat down to supper, which grew very lively. The hostess and her daughters made themselves agreeable. Chéri-Bibi was the most exuberant of the party. He did not eat, he devoured his food. Moreover, he drank to excess. He who prided himself on having maintained throughout his adventurous career the greatest abstemiousness and showed an abstainer's contempt for drunkards, continually held out his glass, and kept level with Fernandez, who was considered the hardest drinker on the coast.

The Nut alone neither ate nor drank. But he was no more astonished at anything Chéri-Bibi did than Chéri-Bibi was astonished at his doings. They both knew quite well what this excessive eating and drinking on the one hand, and this complete abstinence on the other really meant, and that it had its origin in both cases in the thought which never left their minds, that the following night, at that particular hour, they would have said good-bye to each other with very considerable chances of never meeting again.

Ten years side by side in a convict settlement bring about frightful hatreds, or friendships which depend upon something almost higher than liking, and create a bond of moral unity, as it were, which does not break without some excruciating wrench.

Convicts have been known to die rather than to allow themselves to be parted. And it might be that if suicide had not been forbidden to Chéri-Bibi for reasons which we shall know one day, that supper night at Fernandez's inn might, by his own desperate act, have been his last. For that matter it was almost equally fatal to him though not by any design of his own.

He had judged rightly when he read on Yoyo's face some degree of uneasiness. During the meal Yoyo often left the room. First he subjected the more or less pallid faces in the ordinary bar to a scrutiny, and then he strolled round the house.

The starting point of his secret agitation was the squawk of a paroquet which scarcely ever left them as they sailed down the Oyapok. They were near the forest in which these birds abound, and it was to some extent natural that they should hear them, but the inn was a considerable distance from the forest. Moreover, certain shadowy movements round the inn almost level with the ground seemed to Yoyo suspicious. He climbed to the balcony, mounting quickly and coming down almost immediately. This time obviously there was an end to his doubts.

Some hours later when everyone seemed to be asleep in the inn, the Burglar broke open the door of the yard with a cleverness and quickness which impressed even his confederates, and accompanied by them effected an entrance into the inn. They crept forward with the greatest caution.

Suddenly they were stopped short by a loud burst of laughter which startled the silence of the night. Oh, they recognized that laugh! And, as the phrase goes, they took themselves off. They beat a retreat with a haste that caused them to knock their heads against the door which a few minutes before they had opened and which was now closed. At that moment a fusillade burst around them.

They performed wonders in their effort to get away from the infernal inn in which they expected to take their victims by surprise, but were so nicely cornered. By extraordinary agility they managed to climb to the top of a wall and drop to the other side at the risk of breaking their necks. Nevertheless, they lost a few of their feathers; and the next morning the extent of their downfall was apparent in the traces which they left behind--traces of blood.

"All the same," said Chéri-Bibi in confidence to Fernandez, "you'll now understand how necessary it is for me to stay in the country until they are collared with me--just to keep my eye on them, at close quarters, so that they don't do any harm to my friend the Nut. . . ."