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  CHAPTER XXIV--HOW AMOS WAS POSSESSED OF SEVEN DEVILS

  I felt, at that moment, so despondent that I was disposed to burst intotears, to cry like a child through utter disappointment. For a minutewe discussed the matter between ourselves, and tried in vain to see oneray of daylight. Look at it as we might, from every aspect, thesituation seemed just about as bad as it could be.

  Bannister himself was too exhausted to continue the pursuit, and Rushbywas a wounded man, whom, in any case, we dared not again leave alone inthe ravine.

  "What is to be done?" I asked. And there was something so woeful in myexpression that Bannister smiled.

  "We must make the best of a bad business, Dick," said he. "After all,Rushby's life is of more account than the Treasure. Clearly, it is notsafe for us to remain here in open country. We must return to the Wood,and find a place where we can hide. A few hours' rest, and I shall havestrength enough to go on; but I am not disposed to leave my comradeuntil his life is out of danger."

  As he spoke, he placed a hand upon Rushby's shoulder; and I saw by thelook in the boatswain's face that he thought no less of John Bannisterthan I.

  "You'll not wait for me, sir," the boatswain answered. "I want nothingbetter than to see Amos run to earth; for I have not forgotten thevoyage of the _Mary Greenfield_, when mainly through him I was cast intoirons. Besides, it's my fault that he has now got the map, and I'llnever cease to blame myself for that."

  "Forget it all!" said Bannister. "And as for future plans, they canwait till we are rested. The sooner we are out of this place thebetter; for we know not what Baverstock may do."

  Then and there we gathered together what little baggage we possessed, aswell as everything that Amos had left behind him when he had hurriedfrom the camp. There were two rifles between us--and we wanted no more,since Rushby was a casualty; but we could find only ten rounds ofammunition, and I was without my blow-pipe.

  I loaded myself with the rifles and equipment, whereas Bannister pickedup Rushby in his arms and carried him into the Wood. There we had notlong to search before we found a good hiding-place, a little hollow inthe midst of the thickets, where, Bannister told us, a jaguar had rearedher cubs. There was a stream near by, that connected, beyond doubt,with the Brook of Scarlet Pebbles, and we were therefore well suppliedwith water.

  Almost at once the three of us fell fast asleep. For myself, I hadnever been so fatigued; and yet I awoke at daybreak, and immediately,without disturbing my companions, went forth in search of food, and didnot return until I had as many wild fruits and berries as I couldconveniently carry in Bannister's haversack. I then made a fire; andwhilst I was thus employed the other two awakened.

  Bannister's first office was to attend to the boatswain's wound. Thishe washed and dressed--very skilfully, I thought--and then orderedRushby to lie quite still and to make no attempt to move.

  Whilst we were eating we talked of what was best to do; and in thisargument the boatswain took a leading part. He had a mind of his own,and was determined, from the first, to have his way.

  He told us that he was well enough where he was, if we left him food toeat and a pannikin of water within reach, so that there would be no needfor him to move. As for John Bannister and me, we must take the tworifles and what ammunition there was, and set forward without delaytowards the Big Fish, to find Baverstock and his three companions.

  "Though the odds are two to one against you," he added, "that will makeno difference. Stalk him, as you would a wild beast, and put a bulletthrough the scoundrel, as he comes up from the vault. This evening hewill be there or thereabouts. Our one consolation is that he has nomeans of taking the Treasure away. But you must be quick, sir; for I'mopen to a wager that Baverstock goes back across the plain, to findforest Indians to work for him under the whip, that he may carry allthis gold to one of the rivers, and thence down-stream in more than onecanoe."

  There was little question that William Rushby had got the hang of theaffair. Indeed, all that he predicted was, or might have been, thetruth. It was not so much, I think, because Bannister wished to thwarthis ancient enemy, as because he desired to see for himself how thewhole business would end, that we set forward into the Wood at aboutmidday, our destination being the Red Fish itself.

  Bannister told me that you could not reach the Treasure from thenorthern side, because the brook there opened out into a swamp, whereyou could sink to the neck in mud, to be eaten alive by leeches. It wastherefore necessary for us to journey by a circuitous route towards thewest, until we came upon the Brook of Scarlet Pebbles, somewhere to thesouth of the tunnel that led to the Fish. However, we had the sun toguide us, and both Bannister and I were well acquainted with the Wood.

  And now, for once, I must tell my story from a point of view other thanmy own, and follow, for a few hours, the fortunes of Amos Baverstock.Afterwards, I was destined to behold with my own eyes the raving lunacyof that unhappy man, and to witness the spectacle of a tragedy, at oncegruesome and fantastic. But first, I tell the story as I heard it fromthe lips of Mr. Forsyth; and very weird it is.

  With the map in his possession, Amos set forth without delay to feasthis eyes upon the Treasure. Though his three companions were overcomeby fatigue, and there was but half an hour that evening before sunset,the hunchback would not halt until darkness compelled him to do so; andthat night the excited and disordered condition of his mind would notallow him to sleep.

  He had them up in the small hours that they might be ready to start atdaybreak; and they struck the Brook of Scarlet Pebbles early thatmorning, but a few miles to the north of the Big Fish.

  Forsyth afterwards told us that all that day Amos never spoke, butforged ahead with the map in his hand, the others following as best theycould. The man was now blinded by his own greed and avarice. He seemedalike incapable of fatigue and insensible to physical pain; for herushed forward with such mad impetuosity that he was cut to pieces onthe thorns, and was soon bleeding profusely from a score of places.

  He came, on a sudden, upon the swamp, into which he plunged sorecklessly that he was waist-deep before he knew it. Then, to his greatalarm, he found that he was unable to move. He was held tight in themud, and was at once attacked by scores of little leeches.

  He threw up his arms into the air like a drowning man, crying outpiteously for help. Forsyth, as cool as ever--as I can well imagine--atonce cut down a long bamboo, and held this out to Amos, who waseventually hauled back to safety, though covered from head to foot inmud.

  The leeches they were obliged to cut away from him with knives; and allthe time the man reviled them for not making greater haste, telling themrepeatedly that they were but a short distance from the Treasure, uponwhich he was determined to set eyes that very day.

  It was then that his companions, for the first time, suspected that theman's mind was disordered; for Amos talked like a lunatic, and there wasa strange look in his eyes. For instance, he whipped round upon Forsythand told him that he had ever been a stumbling-block, with his refinedmanners and his London airs, since the expedition started from Caracas.At which Forsyth laughed aloud.

  "Your memory is something short," said he. "Less than five minutes agoI saved your life. You were sinking even as I pulled you out. Had itnot been for me, you would have been drowned in black, stinking mud, andyour corpse devoured by leeches."

  At that, Amos burst into the wild and hideous laughter of a madman.

  "Liar!" he shrieked. "You saved the map! It was not me you saved; itwas the map--and without risk to yourself. Much good may it do you! Ishall see to it that you profit nothing. Trust Amos Baverstock forthat!"

  And then he laughed again, and again called Forsyth "Liar!"

  At the time they thought little or nothing of all this, the high talk ofan excited man. They believed him to be in one of his fits ofuncontrollable anger, when he could never rightly be held responsiblefor either his actions or his words. But they left him as he was,sticky with the blac
k mud, with many horrid little leeches still gluedupon his skin, that was already all blood-stained from the thorns. Andthey made a circuit of the swamp towards the east, and came suddenlyupon the open place where the Red Fish stood forth from the ground, withopened mouth, as if in the act of leaping from the water.

  They had no need to cast about them, as I had done, in order to find theentrance to the vault; for I had left traces as plain as any printedbook to read, and the flowers and ferns that I had planted were not yetso well established that they looked quite natural.

  Amos rushed in like a mad dog, and in feverish haste fell to workingwith his knife, scattering broadcast the soft, rich soil that laybetween the rocks. In this task he was assisted by the others--for nowthey were all near as wild with excitement as Amos himself. In a littletime they had the slab laid bare; then they threw it backwards, so thatthey beheld the stone steps leading downward to the vault.

  They had no need to make a torch, as I had done, since they had alwayscarried with them a small collapsible lantern, and with this in one handand the map in the other, Amos led the way down the steps, through theante-chamber where the floor was paved with ingots, and thence into thegreat vault below.

  And, thereupon, there is little doubt that Amos Baverstock went whollymad. He rushed here and there, yelling like a fiend. He snatched upthe gold in handfuls--the drinking vessels, the rings and bracelets andthe ingots--and cast them, in a kind of frenzy, right and left, all thetime shouting and dancing and filling that great chamber with the echoesof his laughter.

  Then he filled his arms with ingots, and tied these together with arifle-sling, so that they resembled a great golden faggot, and weighedfar more than any normal man could carry. For the time being, he knewnot what he did; but was possessed of seven devils that were brothers,and more like to one another than in general brothers are; and theirnames were Avarice, Violence, Jealousy, Cruelty, Revenge, Cowardice, andCunning. Forsyth and the others regarded him amazed.

  Amos dashed up the stairway, carrying his great load upon his crookedback. When he reached the open air, he threw his bundle down upon theground, and then turned an ear to listen at the stairhead.

  He heard Forsyth, Trust, and Vasco ascending in pursuit of him; and thenagain he burst into his madman's laughter, and, laying hold of the slab,hurled it back into its place, and rolled a great boulder upon the topof it; for his strength was not his own, but that of all the sevendevils that were brothers who possessed him.

  "Lie there and rot!" he shouted. And they below heard his footsteps ashe danced upon the stone.

  "'LIE THERE AND ROT!' HE SHOUTED. AND THEY BELOW HEARDHIS FOOTSTEPS AS HE DANCED UPON THE STONE."]

  They cried out to him to be merciful and to release them; but he onlylaughed the more, telling them that he was going alone across the plainto find Indian porters to carry the Treasure through the wilderness, andthat he would not return for months--by which time they three would bedead--dead as Orellano's soldier--starved to death in the very midst ofthe gold they had endured so much to gain.

  And then Amos Baverstock set forward, laughing loudly, with his heavyburden on his back, and a heavier burden still upon his soul. He wentalone into the woods, whilst the daylight faded and the shadows floodedthe undergrowth; and his loud, mad laughter scared the monkeys and thebirds amid the tree-tops; even the jaguar slunk away in fear at thesound of that unholy mirth. The very Wild was filled with terror--allsave the great and stealthy snake that lay coiled in silence in the coolwoodland pool, more evil even than Amos, more strong than all his sevendevils, more cruel than Death itself.