  It would have been worse than useless for Tubby or Fred to have attempted flight, as the stout youth had rightly conjectured. Resistance would have been equally foolhardy. This would have been so in any case, but any move against the Indians was now rendered doubly dangerous by the fact that two of the odd-looking little natives had picked up the two rifles the boys had so foolishly forgotten and were examining them in a way that showed that they had knowledge enough of the white man’s weapons to use them, should occasion offer. After a vast deal of jabbering in their unknown tongue, two of the Indians bound Tubby’s hands behind his back while the others stood guard to protect their companions against any sudden move. Then came Fred’s turn. This done, the boys were led across the open space to a clump of trees from amidst which the Indians had first appeared. To Tubby’s astonishment he saw that a narrow, but well beaten trail ran through the jungle from this point. But in what direction it led he was, of course, ignorant. He guessed, however, that it must be one of the secret Indian paths to which Mr. Raynor had referred. On either side of the narrow trail the jungle grew up thick and impenetrable. Two Indians walked in front, then came the boys, behind marched the other Indians. “W-w-w-w-what is going to become of us?” quavered Fred as they moved along at a swift though steady pace. “I don’t know. I guess we are bound for some village or other back in the San Blas country. It’s a good sign though that they haven’t offered us any violence.” Fred could not but agree that this was so. But little more talk was indulged in between the two captives. It was not a situation that adapted itself to conversation. Hour after hour they trudged along through the tropical forest until at last they came upon something startling. In front of them, as they rounded a curve in the crooked trail, there suddenly rose up something that seemed menacingly to dispute their further passage through the forest. There, facing them, was a hideous monster carved out of a white stone or marble, they could not be sure which. The thing loomed ghastly white against a background of dark trees. Spots of rank moss grew on its glaring stone face. Its stumpy hands were folded and tucked up on its breast; its legs and feet, shaped like a water creature’s, were drawn up under its belly. But it was the awful face with its sinister glare that gave the boys a start that quivered through their frames. As if in proof of its antiquity the statue was broken in places and leaned slightly to one side. Through the cracks in the white stone, great, twisted, gnarled tree trunks, like serpents, writhed in and out. Altogether it was as horrible an object to come upon in the depths of a great forest as the mind could conceive. Small wonder the boys shuddered at it. The Indians, however, did not appear to regard it with much awe. “What an awful looking thing!” shuddered Fred, who had turned pale. “Pshaw! It’s only an old idol,” Tubby scoffed, assuming a bold air for Fred’s comfort. “Lots of ’em in this part of the world. Crackers! Fred, I shouldn’t wonder but what we are coming to one of those ancient cities that have long been supposed to exist in this part of the world. I think—Great CÆsar! Look there, will you?” A wilderness of ruins suddenly opened before them as they topped a small rise. Everywhere was a confusion of tumbled idols, pillars, blocks of stone, heavy walls, flights of steps, some whole, some tumbling with decay, others still upright. Roots, branches and curling vines writhed in and out of the scene of desolation like great snakes. Here and there trees shot up from the empty walls of roofless palaces. Their restless shadows waved mournfully above the ruins. Further back stood a building that surmounted a sort of platform of white stone. It was reached by a flight of steps on one side. On the other the walls towered up steep and slippery. They would not have afforded foothold to a fly. The Indians marched the boys up the steps leading to this dismal palace. From the top of the platform they could see over the ruined city in all directions. And off to one side was a sight that made Tubby’s heart beat more quickly. He had caught the glint of a river, and on its banks he had seen three canoes drawn up. If only they could reach that stream they might still escape. But such a prospect appeared to be remote in the extreme. They were marshaled into the chamber within the walls they had noticed from below. It was of massive but rude architecture and was roofless, but the walls sloped inward, making any idea of climbing them out of the question. From cracks in the walls grew tropic plants and creepers. To the boys’ surprise, once within this place, their hands were untied. But this in itself was a bad sign so far as hope of escape went. It meant that the Indians knew there was no hope of their captives getting away. Two guards were set to watch them at the door, and then the others left. The guards took up their station at the door with their wicked-looking spears all ready for instant action. Tubby, with his ruling passion still strong—and as a matter of fact he was fearfully hungry and faint after their long march—eyed longingly some red fruit that grew on one of the shrubs clinging to the wall. He was about to pluck some when Fred drew him back. “Don’t touch those, Tubby, they’re not good to eat,” he exclaimed. “I recognize the leaf. It’s just like a deadly nightshade leaf at home. I guess they are a giant variety of that poisonous plant.” “Phew! I’m glad I didn’t touch ’em. Would they kill you?” “If you ate many. A few would only put you to sleep. They contain a drug called bella-donna which is a narcotic.” Just then one of the natives appeared with two earthenware bowls full of half raw meat. The boys were hungry or they could not have touched the stuff. As it was, they ate all they could, but left quite a quantity. As they ate their guards eyed them in an odd way. It looked as if they were hungry, too, and would have liked to eat. The boys could see out through the door, and, after eating all they could, they amused themselves by looking over the ruined city. They could see smoke rising some distance off among the trees, and guessed that the main camp of the Indians was there. Probably, they guessed—and in this they were right—the superstitious Indians did not like to camp among the ruins of the lost race, although they had no objection to jailing their prisoners there. As it grew dusk, the sky clouded over. Thunder began to rumble in the distance and the wind moaned in a most melancholy way among the trees that overshadowed the ruins. Far off they could hear the Indians shouting and singing in a coarse, unmusical way. Seemingly they were celebrating the success of their chase and capture of the two white boys. At any rate, they appeared to forget the two guards utterly. It grew dark and the men still sat there. They had lighted a small fire outside the ruined temple, or whatever it had been, and the glow of it revealed their still and silent figures to the boy captives. One of them took some kind of cake from his girdle presently and took a bite of it. Then he offered it to his companion who bit into it hungrily. It was plain that the two Indians were getting hungry. Tubby was about to try to conciliate them by offering them what the boys had left in their bowls, when he had a sudden inspiration. He went to the wall and began picking some of the berries Fred had told him not to touch. Fred, who had fallen into a fitful slumber, did not notice him, and Tubby proceeded uninterruptedly with what he was about. It was about a quarter of an hour later and the rumble of the approaching storm was growing nearer and nearer when Tubby arose and, picking up the two bowls, approached the guards. Instantly they sprang to their feet and presented their spear blades at him. But Tubby, by signs, explained that he and his companion had not been able to eat all their rations and wanted to give them the rest. As Tubby’s shrewd mind had guessed from what he had seen, the two guards were famished. They saw no harm in taking the meat from the prisoner who was kind enough to offer it. They grabbed the bowls and in a minute, as it appeared to the astonished fat boy, they had emptied them. Tubby regarded the two Indians admiringly. He had never seen edibles disposed of so swiftly. When they had eaten, the guards became stern again. They motioned Tubby back to the interior of the ruinous structure. The stout boy obeyed and sank down on the floor apparently composing himself to sleep, but in reality he was watching the two guards with intent eyes. Suddenly he gave a grunt of satisfaction. The guards began to nod sleepily. One almost fell over. He recovered himself, but in an instant he was off to sleep again; as for his companion, after an ineffectual effort to awaken his comrade, he too sank into a deep slumber, falling across the threshold of the place. Instantly Tubby was all activity. Quickly he aroused Fred. “Wake up! Quick! Don’t ask questions. Follow me.” “Why? What?” began Fred sleepily. “Not a word. We’ve got to move quick. I squeezed the juice of those berries you told me about into the remains of our supper. The guards ate it. They’re fast asleep. It’s up to us to cut and run for those canoes on the river bank.” Fred was alert in an instant. As he rose softly to his feet a vivid flash of lightning illumined his face. Tubby saw that it was set and determined as became a Black Wolf Scout. He gripped Fred’s hand tightly. “Whatever happens, keep your nerve,” he enjoined. Then, hand in hand and on tiptoe, the two boys crept toward the doorway. As they were stepping over one of the sleeping guards Tubby, by the glow of the fire, saw that a small bag that the fellow had had tied at his waist had burst as he fell headlong in his slumber, and that a lot of odd-looking pebbles lay scattered about near it. Yielding to he knew not what impulse, he stooped and stuffed a handful of the rocks into the pocket of his Scout coat. It was work to bring the lads’ hearts into their mouths, this advance out upon the open platform with the firelight on them to betray their every movement. Far off they could catch the glow of the Indians’ campfire; but for all they knew other guards might be about and at any minute they expected to hear a spear or an arrow whiz by them. But nothing of the sort happened. They reached the river bank in safety. The lightning was now flashing incessantly. By its gleam they saw the canoes, with their paddles alongside, lying as they had last seen them. Tubby advanced, and, catching hold of one, turned it over. The next instant he gave a terrified yell. As he had turned it, there had leaped from under it, where he had evidently been sleeping, an Indian armed with a spear. Before he could cast it, Tubby ducked low and rushed in on the man like a young bullock. The little San Blas native went down in the mud with a splash. Tubby wrested the spear from him and sent it flying. As the Indian struggled to his feet Fred gave him a blow on the mouth that must have driven some of his teeth in, to judge by the sound. “Quick!” ordered Tubby in a tense undertone, “into the water with those other canoes now.” “But we only want one.” “We don’t want ’em to chase us, do we?” exclaimed the fat boy sharply. “Over with ’em I say.” Fred shoved the two dugouts off. In a jiffy the current caught them and they went sailing out of sight. At the same instant there came another flash of lightning. It showed the river, swollen and angry, racing furiously along. “Can you handle a paddle, Fred?” asked Tubby. “Yes; I had a canoe on the Hudson,” was the reply. “Well, this is going to beat any Hudson you ever saw. There’s a storm in the mountains evidently, and the river is rising every minute. It can’t be helped, though. Take a paddle and shove off.” Luckily both boys knew something about canoes or the start of that dugout would likewise have been its finish. But they saved it by skillful, swift handling from a capsize. The next instant they were in it, being hurled off at a dizzy pace down the rushing current. Behind them came yells and savage shouts. Their escape had evidently been discovered, probably when a change of guards was made. “Whoop!” shouted Tubby back defiantly. “We’re off on the Chagres Limited, you shirtless sons of iniquity; it’ll take better men than you to catch us now!” The cranky canoe rocked wildly, and then shot off into the darkness, hurtled along by the sweeping current of an unknown river. |
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