Under the Andes

by Rex Stout

  Chapter VII.

  THE FIGHT IN THE DARK.

  I returned to consciousness with a sickening sensation of nausea andunreality. Only my brain was alive; my entire body was numb and asthough paralyzed. Still darkness and silence, for all my senses toldme I might have been still in the spot where I had fallen.

  Then I tried to move my arms, and found that my hands and feet werefirmly bound. I strained at the thongs, making some slight sound; andimmediately I heard a whisper but a few feet away:

  "Are you awake, Paul?"

  I was still half dazed, but I recognized Harry's voice, and I answeredsimply: "Yes. Where are we?"

  "The Lord knows! They carried us. You have been unconscious forhours."

  "They carried us?"

  "Yes. A thousand miles, I think, on their backs. What--what are they,Paul?"

  "I don't know. Did you see them?"

  "No. Too dark. They are strong as gorillas and covered with hair; Ifelt that much. They didn't make a sound all the time. No more thanhalf as big as me, and yet one of them carried me as if I were ababy--and I weigh one hundred and seventy pounds."

  "What are we bound with?"

  "Don't know; it feels like leather; tough as rats. I've been workingat it for two hours, but it won't give."

  "Well, you know what that means. Dumb brutes don't tie a man up."

  "But it's impossible."

  "Nothing is impossible. But listen!"

  There was a sound--the swift patter of feet; they were approaching.Then suddenly a form bent over me close; I could see nothing, but Ifelt a pressure against my body and an ill-smelling odor,indescribable, entered my nostrils. I felt a sawing movement at mywrists; the thongs pulled back and forth, and soon my hands were free.The form straightened away from me, there was a clatter on the groundnear my head, and then silence.

  There came an oath from Harry:

  "Hang the brute! He's cut my wrist. Are your hands free, Paul?"

  "Yes."

  "Then bind this up; it's bleeding badly. What was that for?"

  "I have an idea," I answered as I tore a strip from my shirt andbandaged the wound, which proved to be slight. Then I searched on theground beside me, and found my surmise correct.

  "Here you go, Hal! here's some grub. But what the deuce is it? ByJove, it's dried fish! Now, where in the name of--"

  But we wasted no more time in talk, for we were half starved. Thestuff was not bad; to us who had been fasting for something likethirty-six hours--for our idea of time was extremely hazy--it was agorgeous banquet. And close by there was a basin full of water.

  "Pretty decent sort of beggars, I say," came Harry's voice in thedarkness. "But who are they?"

  "Ask Felipe," I answered, for by this time I was well convinced of thenature and identity of our captors. "As I said, dumb brutes don't bindmen with thongs, nor feed them on dried fish. Of course it'sincredible, but a man must be prepared to believe anything."

  "But, Paul! You mean--"

  "Exactly. We are in the hands of the Incas of Huanuco--or rather theirdescendants."

  "But that was four hundred years ago!"

  "Your history is perfect, like Desiree's geography," said I dryly."But what then? They have merely chosen to live under the worldinstead of on it; a rather wise decision, a cynic might say--not tomention the small circumstance that they are prisoners.

  "My dear Hal, never allow yourself to be surprised at anything; it is aweakness. Here we are in total darkness, buried in the Andes,surrounded by hairy, degenerate brutes that are probably allowing us toeat in order that we may be in condition to be eaten, with nopossibility of ever again beholding the sunshine; and what is thethought that rises to the surface of my mind? Merely this: that I mostearnestly desire and crave a Carbajal perfecto and a match."

  "Paul, you say--eat--"

  "Most probably they are cannibals. The Lord knows they must have somesort of mild amusement in this fearful hole. Of course, the idea isdistasteful; before they cut us up they'll have to knock us down."

  "That's a darned silly joke," said Harry with some heat.

  "But it's sober truth, my boy. You know me; I never pose. There isnothing particularly revolting in the thought of being eaten; thedisadvantage of it lies in the fact that one must die first. We allwant to live; Heaven knows why. And we stand a chance.

  "We know now that there is food to be had here and sufficient air. Itis nearly certain that we won't get out, but that can come later. Andwhat an experience! I know a dozen anthropologists that would givetheir degrees for it. I can feel myself getting enthusiastic about it."

  "But what if they--they--"

  "Say it. Eat us? We can fight. It will be strange if we can't outwitthese vermin. And now silence; I'm going to begin. Listen hard--hard!The brutes are noiseless, but if they are near we can hear theirbreathing."

  "But, Paul--"

  "No more talk. Listen!"

  We lay silent for many minutes, scarcely breathing. Not the slightestsound reached our ears through the profound darkness; utter, intensesilence. Finally I reached over and touched Harry on the shoulder, andarose to my knees.

  "Good enough! We're alone. We'll have to crawl for it. Keep closebehind me; we don't want to get separated. The first thing is to finda sharp stone to cut through these thongs. Feel on the ground withyour hands as we go."

  It was not easy to rise at all, and still harder to make any progress,for our ankles were bound together most effectively; but we managedsomehow to drag ourselves along. I was in front; suddenly I felt Harrypull at my coat, and turned.

  "Just the thing, Paul. Sharp as a knife. Look!"

  I groped for his hand in the darkness and took from it the object heheld out to me--a small flat stone with a sharp-saw edge.

  "All right; let me work on you first."

  I bent down to the thongs which bound his ankles. I was convinced thatthey were not of leather, but they were tough as the thickest hide.Twice my overeagerness caused the tool to slip and tear the skin frommy hand; then I went about it more carefully with a muttered oath.Another quarter of an hour and Harry was free.

  "Gad, that feels good!" he exclaimed, rising to his feet. "Here, Paul;where's the stone?"

  I handed it to him and he knelt down and began sawing away at my feet.

  What followed happened so quickly that we were hardly aware that it hadbegun when it was already finished.

  A quick, pattering rush of many feet warned us, but not in time.Hurtling, leaping bodies came at us headlong through the air andcrushed us to the ground, buried beneath them, gasping for breath;there must have been scores of them. Resistance was impossible; wewere overwhelmed.

  I heard Harry give a despairing cry, and the scuffle followed; I myselfwas utterly helpless, for the thongs which bound my ankles had not beencut through. Not a sound came from our assailants save their heavy,labored breathing.

  I remember that, even while they were sitting on my head and chest andbody, I noted their silence with a sort of impersonal curiosity andwondered if they were, after all, human. Nor were they unnecessarilyviolent; they merely subdued us, rebound our wrists and ankles moretightly than before, and departed.

  But--faugh! The unspeakable odor of their hairy bodies is in mynostrils yet.

  "Are you hurt, Paul?"

  "Not a bit, Harry lad. How do you like the perfume?"

  "To the deuce with your perfume! But we're done for. What's the use?They've lived in this infernal hole so long they can see in the darkbetter than we can in the light."

  Of course he was right, and I was a fool not to have thought of itbefore and practised caution. The knowledge was decidedly unpleasant.No doubt our every movement was being watched by a hundred pairs ofeyes, while we lay helpless in the darkness, bound even more tightlythan before.

  "Look here," said Harry suddenly, "why can't we see their eyes? Whydon't they shine."

  "My dear boy," said I, "in th
is darkness you couldn't see the Kohinoordiamond if it were hanging on your nose, drawing-room travelers to thecontrary notwithstanding. We have one advantage--they can't understandwhat we say, but they even up for it by not saying anything."

  There was a short silence, then Harry's voice:

  "Paul--"

  "Well?"

  "I wonder--do you think Desiree--" He hesitated, his voice faltering.

  "I think the same as you do," said I.

  "But I don't know--after all, there is a chance. Just a bare chance,isn't there?"

  "You know as well as I do, Harry. The chances are a million to onethat Desiree--thank Heaven--has escaped all this! And isn't that best!Would you have her here with us?"

  "No--no. Only--"

  "Lying here, bound hand and foot? She would make a dainty morsel forour friends."

  "For the Lord's sake, Paul--"

  "Well, let us forget her--for the present. Nor do we want to make adainty morsel if we can help it. Come, brace up, Hal. It's up to usto turn a trick."

  "Well?"

  "I don't know why I didn't think of it before. I guess we were bothtoo dazed to have good sense. What have you got strapped to your belt?"

  "A gun," said Harry. "Of course I thought of that. But what good isit after that ducking? And I have only six cartridges."

  "Nothing else?"

  I could almost feel his silent gaze; then suddenly he cried out:

  "A knife!"

  "At last!" said I sarcastically. "And so have I. A six-inch,double-edged knife, sharp as a razor and pointed like a needle. Theydidn't have sense enough to search us, and we didn't have sense enoughto realize it. I can feel mine under me now against the ground."

  "But they'll see us."

  "Not if we use a decent amount of caution. The trouble is, I can'treach my knife with my wrists bound. There's only one way. Lieperfectly still; let them think we've given it up. I'm going to trysomething."

  I drew up my knees, twisted over on the hard rock, and lay flat on mybelly. Then I drew up my hands and let my face rest on them, like adog with his head on his paws. And then, keeping my body perfectlystill, and with as little movement of the jaws as possible, I soughtthe tough thongs with my teeth.

  That was a tedious job and a distasteful one. For many minutes Ignawed away at those thick cords like a dog on a bone. It wasconsiderably later that I discovered what those cords were made of;thank Heaven, I was ignorant of it at the time! All I knew was thatthey were, to use one of Harry's phrases, "tough as rats."

  I did not dare pull with my wrists, for fear they would fly suddenlyapart and betray me to the unseen watchers. It was necessary to cutclear through with my teeth, and more than once I was on the point ofgiving it up. There was a nauseating, rancid taste to the stuff, but Idared not even raise my head to expectorate.

  Finally my teeth met; the cords were severed. I felt carefully aboutwith my tongue to make sure there were no others; then, without movingmy hands in the slightest degree, carefully raised my head.

  It was then that I first noticed--not light, but a thinning out of thedarkness. It was, of course, merely the adjustment of my eyes to thenew conditions. I could make out no forms surrounding me, but, lookingdown, I could clearly distinguish the outline of my hands as they layon the ground before me.

  And, again looking up, I fancied that I could see, some twenty orthirty feet to the right, that the darkness again became suddenly denseand impenetrable.

  "That must be a wall," I muttered, straining my eyes toward it.

  "What's that?" asked Harry sharply.

  Obedient to my instructions, the lad had lain perfectly motionless andsilent for over an hour, for it must have taken me at least that longto gnaw through the cords.

  "I said that must be a wall. Look, Harry, about thirty feet to theright. Doesn't it appear to you that way?"

  "By Jove," he exclaimed after a moment of silence, "it's getting light!Look!"

  I explained that, instead of "it's getting light," his eyes were merelybecoming accustomed to the darkness.

  "But what do you think of that? Is it a wall?"

  After a moment's silence he answered: "Ye-es," and then morepositively: "Yes. But what good does that do us?"

  "That's what I am about to tell you. Listen! I've cut the cords on mywrists, and I'm going to get my knife--"

  "How the deuce did you manage that?" Harry interrupted.

  "With my teeth. I've been rather busy. I'm going to get myknife--cautiously, so they won't suspect if they are watching us. Wemust lie close together on our sides, facing each other, so I can cutthe thongs on your wrists without being seen. Then you are to get yourknife--carefully. Do you understand?"

  "Yes."

  For the first time there was fight in Harry's voice; the curious,barely perceptible tremor of the man of courage.

  "All right. Go easy."

  We went about the thing slowly, turning but an inch at a time; a secondmistake might prove fatal. We heard no sound of any kind, and tenminutes later we were lying flat on our backs side by side, keeping ourhands hidden between our bodies, that the absence of the thongs mightnot be discovered. Each of us held in his right hand the hilt of a sixinch knife. Cold steel is by no means the favorite weapon of anAmerican, but there are times--

  "Have you got your knife, Harry?"

  "Yes."

  "Good! Now listen close and act quick. When I give the word reachdown and grasp the cords round your ankles in your left hand, then cutthem through with one stroke. Then to your feet; grasp my jacket, andtogether to the wall--that's for our backs. And then--let 'em come!"

  "All right, old man."

  "Don't waste any time; they'll probably start for us the instant we situp. Be sure you get your feet free at the first stroke; feel them wellwith your left hand first. Are you ready?"

  "Yes." And his voice was now calm and perfectly steady.

  "Then--one, two, three--go!"

  We bent and cut and sprang to our feet, and dashed for the wall. Therewas a sound of rushing feet--our backs hugged the kindly rock--I heardHarry's shout, "Here they come!"--dim, rushing forms--fingers clutchingat my throat.

  I felt the blade of my knife sink into soft and yielding flesh, and awarm, thick liquid flow over my hand and arm.