  The disappointment of the five was so great that for a time no one made any comment on the failure to reach the ancient Inca city. Leaving his friends near the tunnel exit, Jack went on to see what he could discover. Upon his return, he reported that the area’s chief attraction was a deep quarry pool. “This ends our search, I guess,” he admitted ruefully. “When first I found the tunnel, I thought it must lead to the hidden city. No such luck.” “With natives in the village below us, we can’t hope to escape before nightfall,” Ken said gravely. “Let’s find a hide-out until dark.” Selecting a rock shelter not far from the quarry lake, the Scouts scooped out a bed for Mr. Livingston in the earth. “Don’t worry about me, boys,” he advised as they took turns staying beside him. “The fever is down again. I feel better.” At lunch time, the Scouts doled out only skimpy portions of the concentrated food Ino had given them. “At least we have enough water,” Willie remarked, drinking deeply from one of the canteens. “We can refill these at the spring when we slip out tonight.” “I wish we could find Ino again,” Ken said. “He might help us get a balsa.” The thought kept nagging at him, and finally he went out through the tunnel to see what chance he would have of reaching the medicine man. He was gone three hours, so long that the others became very uneasy over his absence. “No luck,” he reported as he rejoined the group. “I couldn’t get near the village. It’s swarming with natives, and they’re mighty excited about something!” “Our disappearance probably,” War commented. “It’s more than that, I think. They seemed to be entertaining a distinguished visitor—another chief probably.” “Then maybe this is our chance to sneak away!” Willie proposed. “Did you find a balsa?” “Couldn’t reach the river. Natives everywhere. I didn’t see Ino either. Until nightfall there’s nothing to do but wait here.” “We might swim,” War proposed with a grin. “I’ve been thinking about it all day. I sure could go for a nice dip in the quarry.” “How would you ever get out?” Jack discouraged him. “Those rock walls are sheer.” “I’ve been looking it over. A long rock shelf runs along one side. I made a rope out of vines, and you guys can haul me up after I’ve had my swim.” “You think of everything, don’t you!” Jack exclaimed. “What if the rope should break?” “It won’t. I made it strong.” “Let’s see that rope,” Jack demanded. He tested it, grudgingly admitting that War had done a good job. “A swim is pretty risky,” he said weakening. “What if the natives should decide to pop up here while you’re taking your dip?” “We can post a guard to watch the tunnel. What d’you say?” “I wouldn’t mind a swim myself,” Jack admitted, sorely tempted. “What do you think, Hap?” Mr. Livingston knew that both boys were excellent swimmers. He told them they might go ahead, but to make the dip a brief one. Willie posted himself at the entranceway to the tunnel, promising that if he saw anyone approaching on the trail, he would whistle twice. Jack and War stripped to their shorts and dived from the rocky ledge deep into the cooling waters. Down, down, down, they went into the dark depths, enjoying the descent. Finally, growing short of air, Jack pulled up his head and came to the surface, gulping air. War broke water close by, and swam in a circle with a smooth, easy crawl stroke. Above, on the rock ledge, Ken and Mr. Livingston watched somewhat anxiously. “Make it snappy,” Ken advised. “This isn’t the Y pool, you know.” Jack swam a few minutes longer, then pulled himself to a low rock shelf only a few feet above the lake surface. From this position, he dived again, taking it at a long slant. His body scraped rock, and he realized with a shock that he had barely missed diving head foremost into a projecting shelf which had not been visible from above. Still under water, his right hand touched a hard, small object lying on the projection. Involuntarily, his fingers closed upon it. Then, in need of air, he surfaced again. Pulling himself out onto the wide shelf below Ken and Mr. Livingston, he opened his fist to see what it was he had found. Within his fingers was a tiny ornament, plainly a corroded, blackened earring. But even to Jack’s untrained eye the metal was pure gold, very old, and set with a large emerald. “Hey, look what I’ve found!” he shouted, holding up the trinket. “Pipe down!” Ken warned him. “Where do you think you are? Grand Central Station?” War had by this time crawled out onto the ledge beside Jack. He too became excited as he examined the bit of treasure. “Say, maybe this lake is loaded with gold and gems!” he cried. “Look at the size of that emerald! Man! No wonder Burton Monahan went off his rocker when he hunted for the secret Inca city!” Jack tossed the ornament up to Mr. Livingston and Ken who shared the enthusiasm as they examined it. “This is either Inca or pre-Inca work,” the Scout leader asserted. “The jewelry probably was thrown into the water centuries ago as a sacrificial offering.” “Or maybe to keep General Pizarro from getting it when he looted Peru,” added Ken. “If you found an earring, Jack, there must be lots of other stuff down there!” War declared, preparing to dive. “Hold on,” Jack stopped him. “This lake is so deep, I doubt you ever could reach bottom without an air tank or a diving suit. Don’t try it.” “Trying to keep all the treasure for yourself, eh?” “Don’t be an egg, War,” Jack grinned. “You’re welcome to all you can bring up. I’m trying to tell you that I found this earring on a rock shelf not very far down. Don’t crack your thick skull by diving into it.” “Thanks, pal. I’ll watch it. I’m off now to scoop up a handful of treasure!” Studying the water momentarily, War plunged in. From above, the others could see his dark shadow moving slowly along the shelf. Presently, gasping for breath, he surfaced. “Get anything?” Ken called eagerly. “Nothing,” War admitted in disgust. “Not a darn thing.” Jack decided to try his luck. Taking a deep breath, he dived diagonally along the shelf. In the dark water, he could dimly see the rocks, but nothing more. Working fast, he groped his way along until he came to a sudden drop-off. A small fish, silvery in color with dark spots, shot past him. Intent upon regaining the surface, Jack paid it no heed. Therefore, he was taken completely off guard when it swerved and came at him savagely. He felt a sharp pain in his left arm. For an instant, Jack could not believe that the fish had bitten him. Then in a flash, realization came—he had been attacked by the terrible caribe fish, a cannibal more dangerous than the shark! |
|
