Part 14

A sigh of relief escaped them. Hoisting heavy weights was not much to their taste and they were glad the task was over. Then they rubbed their eyes, half expecting to see something miraculous, some sudden transformation as a result of their labors. But the Black Magnet, except for the brilliance due to its bath in the depths of the earth, looked exactly as it was before. This, it must be confessed, was disappointing to those who had been promised great rewards for toiling so patiently at the windlass. Raoul had declared the experiment would solve the secret of Guatavita. But they failed to see how a wet rock--or bar of metal, whichever it might be--with mud sticking to it, had any connection with a secret. Raoul, however, was not disconcerted. Getting to work on the magnet, he examined minutely every inch of its surface. At first he found nothing. Then, to the amazement of the others, he extracted from one of the large fissures in the magnet a thin disc encrusted with the microscopic growths that form on metals that are long subjected to the action of water. This disc proved its metallic nature by the force needed to release it from the magnet. Much of the brown matter sticking to it was wiped away with a cloth, the more tenacious growth beneath was rubbed and scraped with a sharp stone. When the scouring was finished Raoul triumphantly held up the disc. It was a dazzling plate of gold, thin and flexible, rudely carved to resemble a human being. In size it was not more than the palm of one's hand, somewhat of that shape, a trifle longer and narrower, with a projection, intended to depict a man's head, face and neck, like a pyramid standing on its apex, upon which were traced in embossed lines three loops to represent the mouth and eyes, with another line running down the middle, long and straight, to represent the nose. The body of the figure was similarly carved--raised lines folded over the stomach for arms, with various loops and coils around the neck and chest, intended, doubtless, to indicate the ornaments and insignia of rank worn by the image or, rather, the human being or god for which it stood. All this was done in the finest gold tracery, which, if it lacked some of the subtleties of the goldsmith's art as we know it, was expressed, nevertheless, with admirable delicacy and firmness. In the head of the figure was a round hole showing, doubtless, that the disc was worn as a pendant by its owner, or was hung as a votive offering before his or her household deity.

Leighton had seen figures of like character and workmanship in Bogota, where they were exhibited as ornaments worn by the ancient Chibchas. Usually they were said to have been brought up by divers from the bottom of Lake Guatavita. Hence, there was little doubt as to the origin and antiquity of the disc presented to them by the Black Magnet. But how this disc came to be at the bottom of a well in this vast subterranean labyrinth was not so easily answered. If this disc was the much talked of clew to the lost treasure of the Chibchas, and to all the other mysteries that seemed to crop up at every step the further they went into this cave, it was not an easy one to run down. And then, Miranda, who had insisted all along that by following the direction in which they had been going they were bound to reach the lake, blundered upon the answer to the whole question.

"It is Guatavita!" he said.

Of course, that was it! Herran and Leighton gasped for a moment as they took in the idea, and then they agreed that Miranda was right. Raoul smiled enigmatically as they discussed the problem in detail.

"Well, do you understand it now?" he asked. "Have you discovered Guatavita's secret? I wish I had known it three years ago!" he added bitterly.

"Ah! I see--I see!" shouted the doctor excitedly. "There is the well that come out at the bottom of the lake. Here is the magnet that go down there just when the people throw in all the gold. And then it come back here--and no one know except the king and his family. So, every year, they take all the gold of the country. Ah! they are very wise leetle fellows, those kings!"

"Then, if this is true," said Leighton meditatively; "if this well has its outlet at the bottom of the lake, and was made and used secretly to collect, by means of the Black Magnet, the treasure offered by the people in the Feast of El Dorado, to-day there is no gold left in Guatavita."

"If it were drained of all its waters," remarked Raoul, "I believe that the emptied basin would be found to contain nothing more than a few stray gold ornaments--like the one you fished up just now--that failed to reach the Black Magnet when they were flung into the lake centuries ago."

"Your plans to empty the lake, then, are useless?"

"After what I have learned to-day, added to what I have long suspected, I should say--quite useless."

"But the fabulous amount of treasure those deluded people threw into the lake for centuries----?"

"Has all come up here, where we are standing now, caught by the Black Magnet."

"He fish very well, this leetle stone," said Miranda, caressing it fondly. "He catch more, better fish than the whole world."

"Where is all that gold to-day?" demanded Leighton.

"Ah! Where!"

"Good heavens! What is that?"

While Leighton and Raoul were discussing the old problem of what became of the Chibcha Empire's far-famed treasure, the others had wandered away from the Black Magnet and were examining some of the strange objects in its immediate vicinity. The more familiar they became with this portion of the cave, the more signs they saw in it of human occupation. For one thing, the place was honeycombed with paths, most of them radiating from the shaft that sank to the bottom of Lake Guatavita. These paths led in different directions; but there was no way of telling whether any or all of them had been recently used. This question was of more immediate interest than the one connecting the cave with the fate of the ancient Chibchas. If this cave was inhabited to-day--if it was the hiding place of a lawless gang of Bogotanos, for example--it was well for the explorers to be on their guard. Herran was particularly alive to this possibility, and he was quick to heed, therefore, Mrs. Quayle's terrified exclamation, which she repeated--

"Good heavens! What is that?"

It was at the head of one of the paths, running behind the close ranks of stalactites before which they had found their way from the large open cave beyond, that Mrs. Quayle stood, her eyes round with excitement, pointing vaguely at something in front of her. But the others could see nothing. Indeed, it was hard to tell whether she had really seen anything worth serious investigation, her chronic nervousness had such an uncomfortable habit of discovering specters--that did not exist--in every dark corner. Then, too, clusters of stalactites had a way of taking on odd, fantastic shapes that might easily seem to be alive even to the cool-headed. But this time there really was substance to Mrs. Quayle's fancies. She continued to point down the pathway of stalactites, crying repeatedly--

"What is that?"

"Well, what is it?" demanded Leighton.

"The man in the toga! The man in the toga!" she cried breathlessly.

The others crowded about her.

"It is nothing!" said Miranda incredulously.

"It is! It is!" whispered Una. "I just caught the flash of white drapery at the bend in that farthest corridor."

Raoul laughed. "You are mistaken," he said. "Nothing is there now, that's certain."

They stood silently watching the dark green-and-white figures that stretched away in closely huddled ranks before them. But they could detect nothing that answered to Mrs. Quayle's description. There was nothing that moved, nothing human, in all that glittering array of grotesque forms. Then, there was a sharp, clinking sound, as if the brittle point of a stalactite had been broken off and had fallen to the ground.

"We are watched," said Leighton in a low voice. "Whoever they are, these people have some reason for following us--and keeping out of the way."

"Time to be on our guard," said Herran in Spanish to Miranda, who assented vehemently.

"Nonsense!" exclaimed Raoul.

"Ah! You say that?" growled Miranda suspiciously. "This is one trap of yours, then!"

The accusation added to the general alarm. Raoul protested scornfully; but before he had time to clear himself he was covered by two huge revolvers, drawn simultaneously by Herran and Miranda.

"It is not so easy!" threatened Miranda, whose excited flourish of firearms endangered the others quite as much as it did Raoul.

"Thank heaven, we have guns!" murmured Andrew, who had produced a harmless looking pocket-knife which he brandished ineffectively.

"This sort of thing is very annoying," said Leighton, addressing Raoul, who began to show uneasiness. "There's no denying that your disappearance was suspicious. Then we find you here in a place that is evidently known and frequented by others. Your explanation is unsatisfactory. Then, when the presence of these hitherto invisible people is quite certain, you try to divert our attention from them."

"You are talking nonsense," said Raoul disgustedly. "You intimate that I am in league with the inhabitants of this cave against you. That means, I must have lured you here deliberately to do you harm. Please remember that it was you who planned this expedition, and that I had not ventured in here so far before."

"Who knows! You seemed familiar enough with the secret of the Black Magnet."

"Take us out of here, my fellow, and we believe you are not one scamp," said Miranda brusquely.

"I am not bound to do anything of the kind, even if I could," retorted Raoul. "Look out for yourselves."

"So! that is good," commented Miranda. "We take the advice. Here we can do nothing. Into Guatavita we cannot jump through this well. Me--I am too fat!"

The bustling doctor's show of energy proved infectious. He and Herran unceremoniously pocketed their revolvers, leaving Raoul at liberty to do as he pleased, while they looked about for a way of escape.

Since he had become suspicious of Raoul, Leighton was inclined to trust the leadership of the two South Americans. The latter, convinced that there was no way out from this part of the cave, determined to go back to the central chamber, hoping to find there the entrance to the tunnel leading to the outside world. They hit on this plan because they feared an ambush on any of the labyrinthian trails leading off in other unexplored directions. The rest agreeing, they set out along the path flanked by the grove of stalactites, traveling at a quicker pace but with greater caution than before. Miranda and Herran marched ahead with revolvers drawn, Andrew in the rear still holding his pocket-knife ready for action. They had been delayed on Mrs. Quayle's account, for that lady, in spite of her anxiety to get away, had refused to budge without her jewelry. But it was not easy to satisfy her demand. For, when the jewelry was taken from its hiding place beneath a rock, it still showed the same strong tendency to fly to the Black Magnet. This distressed Mrs. Quayle, who refused to touch the treasures that she was at the same time loath to part with. But a compromise was finally effected by tying all the jewelry securely around Andrew's waist. This arrangement appeased the owner--but it gave an uncomfortable backward pull to every step the schoolmaster took, who thus resembled, in walking, a ship sailing against the wind. This inconvenience, however, steadily decreased as they came out of the disturbing region of the Black Magnet, until finally these ancient heirlooms of Mrs. Quayle's regained their natural composure.

But there were other things besides the Black Magnet to interrupt their progress. No sooner had they gotten well under way and were congratulating themselves on their escape from mishap so far, than they were startled by a wild and piercing strain of music, seeming to come from the grove of stalactites before which they were hurrying. Amazed by so singular an interruption, they stopped short and looked fearfully about them. A sound of scornful laughter blended with the music.

"Raoul!" muttered Leighton.

But there was nothing to be seen of the strange American whose mocking laughter they were sure, nevertheless, they had heard. Then the music grew louder and louder, as if the musicians were steadily approaching in their direction. The music itself was subtly different, in tone and pitch, from anything played in the outside world. The high notes evidently came from wind instruments, but of a unique quality and caliber. Mingling with these notes, and sustaining the bass, were the heavy beatings of drums of the kind still used, although deeper and mellower, by the native Indians in their festivals.

The melody produced--if it could be called a melody--was of an extraordinary character. Its effect, its charm--for it had unmistakable charm--was quite impossible to define. In some respects it resembled the monotonous chantings peculiar to most primitive races, occasionally, as was customary with the latter, rising and falling, whole octaves at a time, in a wailing key. In the main, it carried a sort of theme, emotional and inspiring, that was far too complex to be attributed to the uncultivated musical taste common to savagery. There was an exultant swing to the measure, a lilting cadence that betrayed a fine esthetic sense, a rich imagination coupled with the simplicity and freedom that has not felt the pressure, except very remotely, of our western civilization. Such music was good to listen to--and under ordinary circumstances the explorers would have been content to listen and nothing more. But curiosity, and some remnant of fear the lulling influence of the music had not dissipated, kept them on the alert. Their fate depended, they felt, on these musicians. They must find out who they were before it was too late to retreat. And then--presently--through the clustering green and white stems of the stalactites, they caught sight of them.

They were over twenty in number, moving, as nearly as the unevenness of the ground would permit, in time to the choral march they were playing. At sight of them Mrs. Quayle didn't know whether to be pleased or terrified. For the music was such an enchanting, soothing sort of thing, and the players so mild, benignant of aspect, anything like fear seemed out of place. But, on the other hand, the strange instruments they carried, their outlandish dress, the whole effect of them, in a way, was distinctly unearthly, supernatural--and Mrs. Quayle drew the line at the supernatural. So, she ended by being simply amazed beyond measure--and her companions shared her feelings in lessening degree. Miranda and Herran, dumbfounded by the apparition, forgot to handle their revolvers in the warlike fashion they had intended with the first approach of a foe; Andrew gaped in an open-mouthed sort of dream, during which his pocket-knife came imminently near doing fatal execution upon himself, while Una and Leighton, forgetting their anxiety, were lost in admiration of the delicious music and of the spectacle before them.

One and all of this singular band of cavemen were clothed after the fashion described by Andrew. Each wore a loose white mantle, or toga, that draped the figure in voluminous folds, adding to the grace and freedom of movement with which they kept time to the music. Their feet were shod with sandals, their heads encircled with bands of white cloth from the flying ends of which hung ornaments of gold and emerald. The musical instruments upon which they played were long, slender tubes, curving upward at the extremity, of a metal that glittered and sparkled like the purest gold.

Most singular of all was the light that each of these musicians carried. This light came from neither torch nor lantern, but radiated in sparks and flashes from oval disks worn, jewel-wise, on the breast. By what fuel these incandescent fires were fed was not apparent. They burned with a clear white brilliance, illuminating each flowing figure with startling vividness, and filling the beholder, ignorant of their nature, with wonder at their admirable adaptability to the needs of a subterranean world.

To Leighton these strange lights were much more mystifying than all the rest of the apparition--for as yet it was difficult to regard the approaching throng as being anything more real than an apparition that one expects to have vanish away almost as soon as it makes its appearance. But these musicians, weird and unearthly though they first seemed when seen at a distance, as they drew nearer, proved to be substantial, flesh-and-blood human beings right enough. Their dark skins and aquiline features gave evidence, for one thing, that they were of Indian origin and not inhabitants of the remote, invisible fairyland that they appeared to the fervid imaginations of some of Leighton's companions. Doubtless, argued the savant, they were a band of revelers--or bandits--from the city to whom the secrets of the cave were familiar. But where they had picked up such extraordinary means for the illumination of their merry-making was more than he could fathom. Lights? They were unlike any lights he had ever heard of. All that he could make of it was that these illuminated disks belonged to the marvels of a hitherto unknown world of science, marvels among which he counted the Black Magnet and--possibly--that disappearing wall at the entrance to the cave.

As these people showed no sign of hostility, the explorers began to hope that through them they would win their way out of the cave. Certainly, they were worth cultivating with this end in view. Hence, Miranda and Herran looked stealthily at their revolvers and restored them as quickly as possible to their hip-pockets, while such a burst of confidence seized Mrs. Quayle that she prepared and was actually seen to exhibit one of her most ingratiating smiles for the benefit of the approaching Indians, at the same time expressing in a loud voice to Una her approval of their music.

This pleasant feeling, however, that they were about to regain their liberty did not last long. The Indians, although showing no unfriendliness, gave unmistakable evidence that they meant to control the movements of the explorers. Still playing on their trumpets and beating solemnly on their drums, they marched around them, bowing courteously enough, but intimating at the same time that they were acting upon a definite plan that could not be interfered with. Somewhat dashed by this singular behavior, which was the more difficult to meet just because it lacked outward menace, the explorers conferred hastily together, hoping to hit on a safe line of action. The men of the party, suspicious of the friendly attitude assumed by the Indians, favored immediate resistance. Their first flush of confidence in them was gone. Herran and Miranda, especially, were doubtful of the intentions of these strange people. From whatever motive, it seemed to them that the latter had deliberately planned their capture, evidently carrying out in this the orders of some one in authority over them. That these orders might come from Raoul Arthur was their principal cause for alarm. The departure of the American miner, under every appearance of treachery, marked him out as one to be feared. He was not, it is true, among the Indians who were surrounding them in their glittering line of dancers, but his absence was not proof that he had nothing to do with this odd demonstration. But--how resist a party so superior to their own in number, one that had already gained an obvious advantage of position over them. Leighton was doubtful what to do; Andrew was helpless; Mrs. Quayle was temporarily lost in admiration of the picturesque circle of dancing figures, all regarding her with gratifying amiability. Una alone insisted that the friendliness of the Indians was genuine, and that their own safety depended on obeying them. As a compromise it was decided to talk to these people--to find out what they were after. For this diplomatic duty Miranda and Herran were chosen.

Although the energetic little doctor was certainly not gifted with an unusual amount of tact, he had at least the merit of directness, and lost no time in calling the attention of the dancers to his desire to come to an understanding with them.

"Do you talk Spanish?" he shouted brusquely in that language.

"Surely, Senor Doctor," gravely replied a tall personage whose dignity of bearing and the fact that the border of his flowing toga was distinguished by a decorative design in embroidered gold indicated his superiority in rank over his comrades. "Surely, some of us talk Spanish."

Having given this assurance, the speaker checked the music and dancing of the others and stood, with the air of one accustomed to ceremonious usage, waiting to hear further from Miranda.

"Yes, I am doctor, famous doctor," said the latter, bustling up to the speaker and looking him over as if he were about to claim him for medical purposes. "I cure thousands and thousands with my pills. But how you know I am doctor?"

The Indian smiled, inclining his head graciously before answering.

"Doctor Miranda is so famous every one knows him."

Ordinarily the vanity of Miranda was easily touched, but just now he was too suspicious to be beguiled by the compliment.

"Caramba!" he snorted; "and who are you?"

"I am Anitoo."

"That is not Spanish," said Miranda sharply.

"I am not Spanish," replied Anitoo stiffly. "I come from an ancient race that ruled here long before there were any Spaniards."

"Well, Senor Anitoo--you say it is Anitoo?--that may be. You are Indian--Chibcha Indian, perhaps--and not Spanish, not Colombian. But what do you make in this cave?"

Anitoo smiled broadly.

"This is the home of my people for many centuries," he said. "And now, suppose I ask you a question. What do you make in this cave?"

XV

AT THE SIGN OF THE CONDOR

There is no doubt about it; Miranda had much the worst of it in his tilt with Anitoo. The Indian's point blank question as to why the explorers were in the cave was not easily answered. The more Miranda thought it over the less able was he to discover--or at least explain--just that very thing: why he and his companions were there. To say they were looking in a cave on the Bogota plateau for a man who had disappeared many miles away on the Honda road sounded rather unreasonable, now that he looked at it from the standpoint of a stranger; while to recall the story of foul play that linked this place with David's disappearance years ago seemed, under the circumstances, dangerous even to the impetuous Miranda. So, he shrugged his shoulders and resorted to a more evasive reply than was his custom.

"We come for a picnic, and we want to get out--that is all."

Anitoo again smiled broadly, yet with the subtle suggestion of holding in reserve an unuttered fund of wisdom that comes so naturally with the people of his race.

"That is all?"

"We look for one friend who is lost. Then, we come with another who has gone. He is one canaille! You have seen him?"

"Ah!" murmured Anitoo, half to himself. "What is his name? What is he like?"

"He is one Yankee. He is called Senor Don Raoul Arthur. He look--well, he look like this----" and Miranda gave an exaggerated example of Raoul's rolling and twitching eyes.

"So, he is here!" said Anitoo, startled, apparently, by the information and amused by the grotesque lesson in optics given by the doctor. Miranda, on the other hand, gathered that Anitoo disliked Raoul--and this pleased him immensely. But he could get nothing more from the Indian who, although still friendly, began to show signs of impatience, talking earnestly to his followers in a language unintelligible to Miranda and Herran.