CHAPTER VI A NEW MYSTERY DEVELOPS
Quichua, the almost universal dialect which the Incas had introducedinto Peru as they conquered its tribes, was quite well understood byBill Sanders. He spent much time on their daily marches, and in camp,teaching it to John Whitley and the three chums. It was the languagethat the hidden city's inhabitants would be most apt to understand, hebelieved.
When they had learned that a "chasqui" was a runner or messenger; thatCuzco, the name of the principal city and hub of the old empire was socalled because the word meant navel, the center of the body; and manyother things such as that "Pelu" meant river and was thought by some tohave been the word that gave the Spaniards their name for thenation--Peru!--they began to study brief sentences and after a whilecould hold short and simple conversations together.
In return they taught Mr. Whitley and Bill the secret ways of exchangingideas in the signals of their order. After some discussion andhesitation Bill was made a member of The Mystery Boys and although thechums debated the good sense of letting him know all their signs, theyfinally gave them to him--and as events proved, they were to be gladthey had done so.
In camp Cliff and his friends spent a great deal of time studying therude map: because Quipu Bill had some misgivings about letting the onlyguide they had become damaged or lost, Tom, who was quite a draftsman,made a very good copy which they used and over which they watchedjealously so that the natives would not discover what it was.
The small party--not more than eight--which had been following them hungon like wolves on the flank of a buck: when Bill hurried along theothers kept the same distance, when his party lagged the others dalliedalso.
"I think it is either the Indian, or the Spaniard, or both of them,"said Bill, "They know--at least the Spaniard does--that there was a map,for he was in camp when I caught the eaglet." But the other party keptjust too far behind for them to see, even with fine glasses, just whocomprised the group.
Then, one afternoon, Cliff looked down from a high point and called toBill.
"Bill--get out your field glasses. I don't see that party anywherebelow." Bill looked. John Whitley and the youths took their turns. Butthere was no sign of pursuit.
"We must have lost them," Nicky said.
"But we have been on a straight road all day," Mr. Whitley objected."No. Either they have dropped too far behind for us to see them at all,or they have given it up----"
"Or they have turned into some side pass, thinking that can get aroundus in some way," Bill added, "But they won't. I guess we have lost themfor good."
They all felt rather glad of it. There had been some fun in the game ofhare and hounds at first, but after a few days the continual watchingbecame wearisome and perhaps worrisome. Their natives noticed it, forone thing, and they did not want the Peruvians to think their story ofan engineering and educational trip was a ruse. They all breathed morefreely that night as they made camp.
But Cliff kept wondering why the pursuit had stopped.
That night--and it was cold for they were very high up in the levelsjust a little below snow level--he lay rolled in his blanket, in thetent the chums shared, thinking about it.
"Cliff," Tom's voice whispered through the dark, "Are you asleep?"
"No," Cliff answered under his breath. But he need not have been socautious. Nicky was not asleep, either: and he declared the factpromptly.
"I'm awake too. Is it to be a session of the Inner Circle?"
"Maybe," Tom replied, "I was going to ask Cliff if he noticed thatIndian that Bill calls Whackey--the one whose name is Huayca?"
"Notice him? Notice what about him?" Nicky demanded.
"He kept dropping back from one carrier to the next one, right along theline, today."
"Yes," Cliff said, "I saw him. He talked to each one for a few minutes,then he dropped behind and talked to the next one."
"What do you suppose it meant?" Nicky wondered. "Nothing, I guess. Ihave seen him do it before."
"You have?" Cliff and Tom asked it at one instant.
"Certainly. But he is the boss isn't he? He has to give orders."
"When he gives orders he yells them out so that we all hear him," Tomobjected.
"In the morning," Cliff said, "Let's ask Mr. Whitley and Bill if theyhave noticed." They agreed and discussed the curious disappearance ofthe trailing party for a while.
Then, suddenly, Cliff hissed under his breath, "Sh-h-h-h!"
They became alert, intent: they listened with straining ears.
"It was only some pebbles--a little landslide," Nicky whispered. "Theydo that in the mountains. I saw some pebbles slip this afternoon."
Nevertheless Cliff gently crawled out of his blanket and his head camein rather vigorous contact with Tom's cranium for he was doing the samething. They forgot the bump in the excitement for more pebbles wereclattering at a little distance.
Cliff and Tom unhooked their tent flap and without widening its openingmuch, looked into the dim, starlit night.
Nicky pushed his face between them. Each felt that the others weretense, Nicky was trembling a little. They stared and listened.
From a greater distance came the crackle of a broken twig.
Without a word Cliff pushed into the open and stared around. Then he sawfigures, silent, drifting like spectres through the night, shadows withlumpy heads.
At first he almost cried out at a touch on his arm but in the instantthat he controlled his impulse he realized that it came from Nicky'sgrip on his arm.
"It's Indians!" Nicky gasped.
"Yes," said Tom, at his side; then he added in a puzzled way, "But theyare going away from us."
"It's our Indians----" Cliff said, "They're running away. Hey!" heshouted, then, poised to race after them, he called to his comrades towaken Bill and Mr. Whitley; but they were already awake and emergingdazedly from their tent as Cliff thrust the ground behind him withracing feet, in hot pursuit of figures now making no effort to be quietas they galloped away.
It was a hazardous pursuit in the dark and on a strange mountain path;but Cliff had observed, as was his habit, while they climbed earlier inthe day: he knew when to swerve to avoid a heavy boulder, he seemed toavoid by instinct the more pebbled and slippery parts.
While Nicky and Tom, after shouting the news, pounded in pursuit heovertook the hindmost runner.
"Stop--you!" he shouted. The man swerved. Cliff made a tackle. The mantripped, was down. Instantly Cliff was erect again and racing on whileTom caught up with the man already scrambling to his feet and held himuntil Nicky arrived.
Then, from behind them, Bill, in the dialect, yelled a call to halt tothe natives. Cliff reached his second man and put a hand on his arm.From behind came the flash of Quipu Bill's rifle, fired into the airover the runners' heads.
They stopped, uncertainly, and Cliff, racing down the path, tookadvantage of the interval to get to a point where he could at least tryto "bluff" and hold the men.
The natives clustered in a little knot. They had bundles on theirheads--probably most of the camp food and supplies. Cliff shouted tothem to stand while Mr. Whitley and Bill made a scrambling, awkward, butrapid approach.
"Running out at night with our grub, eh?" Bill snapped, "You _hombres_about face and back to camp!" He translated into dialect and theysullenly obeyed for he still carried his rifle.
"All of 'em here?" he asked Mr. Whitley, "it's so dark----"
"The fellow you call Whackey isn't!" Cliff cried. Then a queer misgivingassailed him. He rushed to Bill and whispered. Bill, bent to hear,stiffened.
"Glory-gosh!" he gasped, "Go and see. In my coat pocket!"
They herded their morose captives back to camp while Cliff made hishasty retreat and a thorough but equally hurried examination in certainplaces.
He met Bill, approaching anxiously with John Whitley.
"It's gone--the map's gone!" he gasped.
"So that's why the other party stoppe
d following. That's why Whackeyisn't around!" exclaimed the chief of the party.
"I saw him, today," Nicky cried, and explained, "Tom did, too."
"Planned to cut away during the night," Bill snapped, "Guess he planneddeeper, too: I think he expected these natives to make enough noise tobe caught--that gave him a chance to get the map. I wondered why hewatched me so closely, last couple of days."
"Well, never mind," Mr. Whitley counseled, "He and the others he went tojoin cannot get there ahead of us. Bill knows the passes."
"All but one place after we get back to the snowy pass," Bill objected,"Cliff's pa only drew it rough and indicated the one right way--the wayhe took; but I know there's a regular slather of cross cuts and pathsbetween the cliffs up there. It's all torn up by some earthquake longago. I'd need the map there!"
"Well, we have the copy Tom made--" but Mr. Whitley stopped, arrested byCliff's clutch on his arm. Flashlights trained, the five, with a solemnwarning to the natives, who seemed not to know what to do and so werefor the time in no danger of mischief, hurried into Cliff's tent. Theyflicked their lights around but Cliff, catching one from Nicky, trainedit on the ground cloth.
Tiny fragments of paper, too fine ever to match together, littered thecloth under Tom's little writing case!