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 aboutthings."
"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 webegin doing something. Anything's better than this waiting to begin. Isay--"
"Yes."
"Isn't it near morning?"
"No, it ain't," said a gruff voice in an ill-used tone. "How's a man toget a good sleep before he relieves the colonel, if you two young gentskeep 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, brokenonly by a weary sigh or two, for no sleep came to the restless lads; andthe next morning found them red-eyed and feverish in spite of the bathethey had in the intensely cold water of the neighbouring mountain rill.
And all that day they were on the strain, and constantly on the watchfor the colonel, hoping that he would become communicative. But he wasvery quiet, and spent the greater part of the day either sleeping orpretending, and lounging about watching the Indians busy cutting downtrees, or peeling the boughs and twigs.
John Manning, too, looked wonderfully lazy, and avoided the boys, who atlast 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 throwthe Indians off their guard."
Dinner-time came, for which meal John Manning had prepared a verysatisfactory dish from some charqui flavoured with fruit and vegetables,and the boys anxiously waited again for some communication from thecolonel. But he was still reticent, and after the meal was over, Diegoand his companion were summoned and left to clear the tin bowl which didduty as a dish, a duty they always carried out to perfection, neverleaving it so long as there was a scrap to finish.
Then came the long, hot, weary afternoon, which the two boys started topass under the boughs of a sturdy tree, both feeling their irritabilityincrease as they listened to the crackling and breaking of wood near athand, and the murmur of voices from the Indians, who kept on busily withtheir work.
There was a humming noise in the air, as the insects darted here andthere in the hot afternoon sunshine; and from where the two lads lay,they could see the mountains slope down rapidly into the long deepvalley, filled now with a soft golden haze, while the air was deliciouswith the aromatic perfume shed by the trees around.
Cyril felt hot, feverish, and weary still, but at the same time, as helay there, it seemed as if that valley at his feet was very beautifulwith the sun lighting it up from end to end, and that it would be a pityto 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 worryingand shaking him. The next moment he started up to find that the valleybelow 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 goodrest. 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 andhave supper--it is ready--and then wait about by the hut while theguides have theirs. You will take no notice of anything, but loiterabout outside while John Manning and I act. But be ready to help, if Icall upon you."
"We'll do all you wish, sir," said Cyril excitedly.
"Then do it calmly," said the colonel. "Mind this, the Indians must nothave a suggestion that shall make them suspicious. To them everythingmust seem as if we were patiently submitting to our rather easycaptivity. Come."
The colonel led the way back to the fire, close to which their meal wasspread by John Manning, and as the boys drew nearer, they saw that Diegoand his companion were hanging about as if wondering why they had notbeen summoned sooner to partake of the meal.
"Yes, we're late," said the colonel aloud, and setting the example, hetook his place and began to eat as calmly as if nothing important was onthe way.
"Come, boys," he said quietly, "make a good meal, and don't lookanxious; there are some of the Indians coming up. Recollect what Isaid."
Cyril tried to act his part, and said something in a laughing way toPerry, but it fell very flat. Still, there was nothing in the scene toattract attention, and though they were all aware that work for the dayhad long ceased near the huts, and the Indians who were not partaking oftheir simple meal, were strolling about, and many of them keenlywatching the white party, no head was turned. At last the colonel askedif all were done, and then rose and signed to Diego and the other man tocome and take their places.
This they did eagerly, and from where Cyril stood now in thesemi-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'tthink they have set any watch yet. Keep on walking to and fro as you dosometimes, with your arms on each other's shoulders. Keep between thefire 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 hethrew his arm over his companion's shoulder and they began walking toand fro about twenty yards from their fire, while the low hum of manyvoices came from the clearing where the Indians were talking togetherbefore settling themselves for the night.
Meanwhile Diego and his companion were eating away as if they hadsuffered a three days' fast, and showed no sign of leaving off, till allat once, just as the boys turned, they became aware of the fact that thecolonel had gone from the spot where they had seen him last, and that heand John Manning had suddenly appeared in front of the guides, wherethey were eating. By the light of the fire they saw that guns werepresented at the men's heads, with the effect of making them throw outtheir arms to seize their weapons, but before they could effect anythingfor their defence, they were thrust backward, and Cyril at the samemoment saw by the firelight Diego lying upon his back, with thecolonel'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 hadstopped, panting and startled, and Cyril felt him quiver as hehalf-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 asmuch as they could, but in less than five minutes there was nothing tosee, for both the guides were bound with a hide rope from the mules'packages; and urged onward by threats from the colonel's and JohnManning's pieces, they had passed out of sight among the bushes in anenforced stooping position, a faint crackling telling of the directionin which they had gone, while a louder crackling and snapping told, withthe accompanying blaze, that something had been thrown upon the fire.
"The bows and arrows," whispered Perry, and they kept up theirmonotonous tramp to and fro.
"What are they doing now?" said Perry suddenly, and then he started, forCyril burst out into a merry laugh, and gave him a sharp slap on theback, so suddenly, and with such force, that Perry stumbled forward, andnearly 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 closeto watch."
Perry trembled violently, but he tried to follow out his companion'splan, and turning upon him, engaged in a mock struggle, each makingbelieve to throw the other for a minute or two, and then laughinglyresuming their walk to and fro.
Those laughs were very hysterical, though, and Perry's next words camewith 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, asif nothing were wrong. Can't you see it will make them believe we aregoing 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 ridof 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, butbefore he had got through the first strain, there was another faintrustling among the trees.
"There goes the other," said Cyril quietly, and then he broke into aloud 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 theforest.
"Yes, they are killing the guides."
"I tell you, it was the squeaking of the mules. I know the sound wellenough."
"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 andcalling to one another. I believe they are being loaded."
"Oh, how can you take it all so coolly?" groaned Perry. "My heart beatsas if it would break, and I feel a curious choking sensation at thethroat, and all the time you take it as if there was nothing thematter."
"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'tstop. We must keep on, so as to keep the Indians from thinking there'sanything 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 assuddenly as he had begun, and began talking.
"I say it was very plucky of your father, wasn't it? The boldness ofthe plan has made it do. The Indians could not even think we shouldmake such an attempt."
For a full hour the boys kept up that painful tramp up and down, Perrygrowing more and more silent, and Cyril bursting out from time to timewith a little peal of forced laughter. Twice over, they were consciousof the presence of the watchful Indians creeping furtively among thetrees; but the actions of the boys allayed their suspicions, and theywent back as softly as they came.
"Was it never to end?" the lads asked themselves, and though neithermade any allusion to their thoughts, they were tortured by fancies ofwhat might have happened, till at last Perry was certain that, insteadof the colonel and John Manning killing the two guides, these two menhad turned upon them and stabbed them to the heart.
At last the boy could bear this thought no longer. He fought hard tokeep it to himself, but it would have vent finally, and as they turnedto continue their weary tramp, he suddenly caught Cyril fiercely by thearm.
"They won't come back to us," he whispered. "They cannot. Diego andthe other man turned upon them, killed them, and those were their crieswe 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. "Atlast," 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 hiscompanion, and then the pulses of both seemed to stand still, for theyheard the approach of Indians from the direction of the clearing.Almost at the same moment, they could plainly see by the faint light ofthe fire, not the colonel and John Manning coming to fetch them at last,but the figures of the guides bending down, and then beginning toapproach, in the soft furtive manner of a couple of wild beasts about tomake their fatal spring.