Under the Andes

by Rex Stout

  Chapter IX.

  BEFORE THE COURT.

  I expected I know not what result from Harry's hysterical rashness:confusion, pandemonium, instant death; but none of these followed.

  I had reached his side and stood by him at the edge of the lake, wherehe had halted. Desiree Le Mire stopped short in the midst of the madsweep of the Dance of the Sun.

  For ten silent, tense seconds she looked down at us from the top of thelofty column, bending dangerously near its edge. Her form straightenedand was stretched to its fullest height; her white, superb body wasdistinctly outlined against the black background of the upper cavern.Then she stepped backward slowly, without taking her eyes from us.

  Suddenly as we gazed she appeared to sink within the column itself andin another instant disappeared from view.

  We stood motionless, petrified; how long I know not. Then I turned andfaced our own danger. It was time.

  The Incas--for I was satisfied of the identity of the creatures--hadleft their seats of granite and advanced to the edge of the lake. Nota sound was heard--no command from voice or trumpet or reed; they movedas with one impulse and one brain.

  We were utterly helpless, for they numbered thousands. And weak andstarving as we were, a single pair of them would have been more than amatch for us.

  I looked at Harry; the reaction from his moment of superficial energywas already upon him. His body swayed slightly from side to side, andhe would have fallen if I had not supported him with my arm. There westood, waiting.

  Then for the first time I saw the ruler of the scene. The Incas hadstopped and stood motionless. Suddenly they dropped to their knees andextended their arms--I thought--toward us; but something in theirattitude told me the truth. I wheeled sharply and saw the object oftheir adoration.

  Built into the granite wall of the cavern, some thirty feet from theground, was a deep alcove. At each side of the entrance was an urnresting on a ledge, similar to those on the columns, only smaller, fromwhich issued a mounting flame.

  On the floor of the alcove was a massive chair, or throne, which seemedto be itself of fire, so brilliant was the glow of the metal of whichit was constructed. It could have been nothing but gold. And seatedon this throne was an ugly, misshapen dwarf.

  "God save the king!" I cried, with a hysterical laugh; and in theprofound silence my voice rang from one side of the cavern to the otherin racing echoes.

  Immediately following my cry the figure on the throne arose; and as hedid so the creatures round us fell flat on their faces on the ground.For several seconds the king surveyed them thus, without a sound ormovement; then suddenly he stretched forth his hand in a gesture ofdismissal. They rose as one man and with silent swiftness disappeared,seemingly melting away into the walls of rock. At the time the effectwas amazing; later, when I discovered the innumerable lanes andpassages which served as exits, it was not so difficult to understand.

  We were apparently left alone, but not for long. From two stonestairways immediately in front of us, which evidently led to the alcoveabove, came forth a crowd of rushing forms. In an instant they wereupon us; but if they expected resistance they were disappointed.

  At the first impact we fell. And in another moment we had been raisedin their long, hairy arms and were carried swiftly from the cavern.Scarcely five minutes had elapsed since we had first entered it.

  They did not take us far. Down a broad passage directly away from thecavern, then a turn to the right, and again one to the left. Therethey dropped us, quite as though we were bundles of merchandise,without a word.

  By this time I had fairly recovered my wits--small wonder if thatamazing scene had stunned them--and I knew what I wanted. As the brutethat had been carrying me turned to go I caught his arm. He hesitated,and I could feel his eyes on me, for we were again in darkness.

  But he could see--I thanked Heaven for it--and I began a mostexpressive pantomime, stuffing my fingers in my mouth and gnawing atthem energetically. This I alternated with the action of one drinkingfrom a basin. I hadn't the slightest idea whether he understood me; heturned and disappeared without a sign--at least, without an audible one.

  But the creature possessed intelligence, for I had barely had time toturn to Harry and ascertain that he was at least alive, when the patterof returning footsteps was heard. They approached; there was theclatter of stone on the ground beside us.

  I stood eagerly; a platter, heaped, and a vessel, full! I think Icried out with joy.

  "Come, Harry lad; eat!"

  He was too weak to move; but when I tore some of the dried fish intofragments and fed it to him he devoured it ravenously. Then he askedfor water, and I held the basin to his lips.

  We ate as little as it is possible for men to eat who have fasted formany days, for the stuff had a sharp, concentrated taste thatrecommended moderation. And, besides, we were not certain of gettingmore.

  I wrapped the remainder carefully in my poncho, leaving the platterempty, and lay down to rest, using the poncho for a pillow. I hadenough, assuredly, to keep me awake, but there are bounds beyond whichnature cannot go. I slept close by Harry's side, with my arm acrosshis body, that any movement of his might awaken me.

  When I awoke Harry was still asleep, and I did not disturb him. Imyself must have slept many hours, for I felt considerably refreshedand very hungry. And thirsty; assuredly the provender of those hairybrutes would have been most excellent stuff for the free-lunch counterof a saloon.

  I unwrapped the poncho; then, crawling on my hands and knees, searchedabout the ground. As I had expected, I found another full platter andbasin. I had just set the latter down after taking a hearty drink whenI heard Harry's voice.

  "Paul."

  "Here, lad."

  "I was afraid you had gone. I've just had the most devilish dreamabout Desiree. She was doing some crazy dance on top of a mountain orsomething, and there was fire, and--Paul! Paul, was it a dream?"

  "No, Hal; I saw it myself. But come, we'll talk later. Here's somedried fish for breakfast."

  "Ah! That--that--now I remember! And she fell! I'm going--"

  But I wanted no more fever or delirium, and I interrupted him sternly:

  "Harry! Listen to me! Are you a baby or a man? Talk straight or shutup, and don't whine like a fool. If you have any courage, use it."

  It was stiff medicine, but he needed it, and it worked. There was asilence, then his voice came, steady enough:

  "You know me better than that, Paul. Only--if it were not forDesiree--but I'll swallow it. I think I've been sick, haven't I?"

  Poor lad! I wanted to take his hand in mine and apologize. But thatwould have been bad for both of us, and I answered simply:

  "Yes, a little fever. But you're all right now. And now you must eatand drink. Not much of a variety, but it's better than nothing."

  I carried the platter and basin over to him, and sat down by his side,and we fell to together.

  But he would talk of Desiree, and I humored him. There was littleenough to say, but he pressed my hand hopefully and gratefully when Iexpressed my belief that her disappearance had been a trick of somesort and no matter for apprehension.

  "We must find her, Paul."

  "Yes."

  "At once."

  But there I objected.

  "On the contrary, we must delay. Right now we are utterly helplessfrom our long fast. They would handle us like babies if it came to afight. Try yourself; stand up."

  He rose to his hands and knees, then sank back to the ground.

  "You see. To move now would be folly. And of course they are watchingus at this minute--every minute. We must wait."

  His only answer was a groan of despair.

  In some manner the weary hours passed by.

  Harry lay silent, but not asleep; now and then he would ask me somequestion, but more to hear my voice than to get an answer. We heard orsaw nothing of our captors, for all our senses told us we were quitealone
, but our previous experience with them had taught us better thanto believe it.

  I found myself almost unconsciously reflecting on the character andnature of the tribe of dwarfs.

  Was it possible that they were really the descendants of the Incasdriven from Huanuco by Hernando Pizarro and his horsemen nearly fourhundred years before? Even then I was satisfied of it, and I was soonto have that opinion confirmed by conclusive evidence.

  Other questions presented themselves. Why did they not speak? Whatfuel could they have found in the bowels of the Andes for their vats offire? And how did sufficient air for ten thousand pairs of lungs findits way miles underground? Why, in the centuries that had passed, hadnone of them found his way to the world outside?

  Some of these questions I answered for myself, others remained unsolvedfor many months, until I had opportunity to avail myself of knowledgemore profound than my own. Easy enough to guess that the hiddendeposits of the mountain had yielded oil which needed only a spark froma piece of flint to fire it; and any one who knows anything of thegeological formation of the Andes will not wonder at their supply ofair.

  Nature is not yet ready for man in those wild regions. Huge upheavalsand convulsions are of continual occurrence; underground streams areknown which rise in the eastern Cordillera and emerge on the side ofthe Pacific slope. And air circulates through these passages as wellas water.

  Their silence remains inexplicable; but it was probably the result ofthe nature of their surroundings. I have spoken before of theinnumerable echoes and reverberations that followed every sound of thevoice above a whisper. At times it was literally deafening; and timemay have made it so in reality.

  The natural effect through many generations of this inconvenience ordanger would be the stoppage of speech, leading possibly to a completeloss of the faculty. I am satisfied that they were incapable ofvocalization, for even the women did not talk! But that is ahead ofthe story.

  I occupied myself with these reflections, and found amusement in them;but it was impossible to lead Harry into a discussion. His mind wasanything but scientific, anyway; and he was completely obsessed by fearfor the safety of Desiree. And I wasn't sorry for it; it is betterthat a man should worry about some one else than about himself.

  Our chance of rescuing her, or even of saving ourselves, appeared to mewoefully slim. One fear at least was gone, for the descendants ofIncas could scarcely be cannibals; but there are other fates equallyfinal, if less distasteful. The fact that they had not even taken thetrouble to bind us was an indication of the strictness of their watch.

  The hours crept by. At regular intervals our food was replenished andwe kept the platter empty, storing what we could not eat in our ponchosagainst a possible need.

  It was always the same--dried fish of the consistency of leather and amost aggressive taste. I tried to convey to one of our captors theidea that a change of diet would be agreeable, but either he did notunderstand me or didn't want to.

  Gradually our strength returned, and with it hope. Harry began to beimpatient, urging action. I was waiting for two things besides thereturn of strength; first, to lay in a supply of food that would besufficient for many days in case we escaped, and second, to allow oureyes to accustom themselves better to the darkness.

  Already we were able to see with a fair amount of clearness; we couldeasily distinguish the forms of those who came to bring us food andwater when they were fifteen or twenty feet away. But the cavern inwhich we were confined must have been a large one, for we were unableto see a wall in any direction, and we did not venture to explore forfear our captors would be moved to bind us.

  But Harry became so insistent that I finally consented to a scoutingexpedition. Caution seemed useless; if the darkness had eyes thatbeheld us, doubly so. We strapped our ponchos, heavy with their food,to our backs, and set out at random across the cavern.

  We went slowly, straining our eyes ahead and from side to side. It wasfolly, of course, in the darkness--like trying to beat a gambler at hisown game. But we moved on as noiselessly as possible.

  Suddenly a wall loomed up before us not ten feet away. I gave a tug atHarry's arm, and he nodded. We approached the wall, then turned to theright and proceeded parallel with it, watching for a break that wouldmean the way to freedom.

  I noticed a dark line that extended along the base of the wall,reaching up its side to a height of about two feet and seeminglymelting away into the ground. At first I took it for a separate strataof rock, darker than that above. But there was a strange brokennessabout its appearance that made me consider it more carefully.

  It appeared to be composed of curious knots and protuberances. Istopped short, and, advancing a step or two toward the wall, gazedintently. Then I saw that the dark line was not a part of the wall atall; and then--well, then I laughed aloud in spite of myself. Thething was too ludicrous.

  For that "dark line" along the bottom of the wall was a row ofsquatting Incas! There they sat, silent, motionless; even when mylaugh rang out through the cavern they gave not the slightest sign thatthey either heard or saw. Yet it was certain that they had watched ourevery move.

  There was nothing for it but retreat. With our knives we might havefought our way through; but we were unarmed, and we had felt one or twoproofs of their strength.

  Harry took it with more philosophy than I had expected. As for me, Ihad not yet finished my laugh. We sought our former resting-place,recognizing it by the platter and basin which we had emptied before ourfamous and daring attempt to escape.

  Soon Harry began:

  "I'll tell you what they are, Paul; they're frogs. Nothing but frogs.Did you see 'em? The little black devils! And Lord, how they smell!"

  "That," I answered, "is the effect of--"

  "To the deuce with your mineralogy or anthromorphism or whatever youcall it. I don't care what makes 'em smell. I only know they do--asKipling says of the oonts--'most awful vile.' And there the beggarssit, and here we sit!"

  "If we could only see--" I began.

  "And what good would that do us? Could we fight? No. They'd smotherus in a minute. Say, wasn't there a king in that cave the other day?"

  "Yes; on a golden throne. An ugly little devil--the ugliest of all."

  "Sure; that why he's got the job. Did he say anything?"

  "Not a word; merely stuck out his arm and out we went."

  "Why the deuce don't they talk?"

  I explained my theory at some length, with many and various scientificdigressions. Harry listened politely.

  "I don't know what you mean," said he when I had finished, "but Ibelieve you. Anyway, it's all a stupendous joke. In the first place,we shouldn't be here at all. And, secondly, why should they want us tostay?"

  "How should I know? Ask the king. And don't bother me; I'm going tosleep."

  "You are not. I want to talk. Now, they must want us for something.They can't intend to eat us, because there isn't enough to go around.And there is Desiree. What the deuce was she doing up there withoutany clothes on? I say, Paul, we've got to find her."

  "With pleasure. But, first, how are we going to get out of this?"

  "I mean, when we get out."

  Thus we rattled on, arriving nowhere. Harry's loquacity I understood;the poor lad meant to show me that he had resolved not to "whine." Yethis cheerfulness was but partly assumed, and it was most welcome. Myown temper was getting sadly frayed about the edge.

  We slept through another watch uneventfully, and when we woke found ourplatter of fish and basin of water beside us. I estimated that someseventy-two hours had then passed since we had been carried from thecavern; Harry said not less than a hundred.

  However that may be, we had almost entirely recovered our strength.Indeed, Harry declared himself perfectly fit; but I still felt somediscomfort, caused partly by the knife-wound on my knee, which had notentirely healed, and partly, I think, by the strangeness and monotonyof our diet. Harry's palate was l
ess particular.

  On awaking, and after breaking our fast, we were both filled with anodd contentment. I really believe that we had abandoned hope, and thatthe basis of our listlessness was despair; and surely not withoutreason. For what chance had we to escape from the Incas, handicappedas we were by the darkness, and our want of weapons, and theiroverwhelming numbers?

  And beyond that--if by some lucky chance we did escape--what remained?To wander about in the endless caves of darkness and starve to death.At the time I don't think I stated the case, even to myself, with suchbrutal frankness, but facts make their impression whether you invitethem or not. But, as I say, we were filled with an odd contentment.Though despair may have possessed our hearts, it was certainly notallowed to infect our tongues.

  Breakfast was hilarious. Harry sang an old drinking-song to thewater-basin with touching sentiment; I gave him hearty applause andjoined in the chorus. The cavern rang.

  "The last time I sang that," said Harry as the last echoes died away,"was at the Midlothian. Bunk Stafford was there, and Billy Du Mont,and Fred Marston--I say, do you remember Freddie? And his East Sidecrocodiles?

  "My, but weren't they daisies? And polo? They could play it in theirsleep. And--what's this? Paul! Something's up! Here they come--Mr.and Mrs. Inca and all the children!"

  I sprang hastily to my feet and stood by Harry's side. He was right.

  Through the half darkness they came, hundreds of them, and, as always,in utter silence. Dimly we could see their forms huddled togetherround us on every side, leaving us in the center of a small circle intheir midst.

  "Now, what the deuce do they want?" I muttered. "Can't they let us eatin peace?"

  Harry observed: "Wasn't I right? 'Most awful vile!'"

  I think we both felt that we were joking in the face of death.

  The forms surrounding us stood silent for perhaps ten seconds. Thenfour of their number stepped forward to us, and one made gestures witha hairy arm, pointing to our rear. We turned and saw a narrow lanelined on either side by our captors. Nothing was distinct; still wecould see well enough to guess their meaning.

  "It's up to us to march," said Harry.

  I nodded.

  "And step high, Hal; it may be our last one. If we only had ourknives! But there are thousands of 'em."

  "But if it comes to the worst--"

  "Then--I'm with you. Forward!"

  We started, and as we did so one of the four who had approached dartedfrom behind and led the way. Not a hand had touched us, and thisappeared to me a good sign, without knowing exactly why.

  "They seem to have forgotten their manners," Harry observed. "Theapproved method is to knock us down and carry us. I shall speak to theking about it."

  We had just reached the wall of the cavern and entered a passageleading from it, when there came a sound, sonorous and ear-destroying,from the farther end. We had heard it once before; it was the samethat had ended our desperate fight some days before. Then it had savedour lives; to what did it summon us now?

  The passage was not a long one. At its end we turned to the right,following our guide. Once I looked back and saw behind us the crowdthat had surrounded us in the cave. There was no way but obedience.

  We had advanced perhaps a hundred, possibly two hundred yards along thesecond passage when our guide suddenly halted. We stood beside him.

  He turned sharply to the left, and, beckoning to us to follow, began todescend a narrow stairway which led directly from the passage. It wassteep, and the darkness allowed a glimpse only of black walls and theterrace immediately beneath our feet; so we went slowly. I counted thesteps; there were ninety-six.

  At the bottom we turned again to the right. Just as we turned I heardHarry's voice, quite low:

  "There are only a dozen following us, Paul. Now--"

  But I shook my head. It would have been mere folly, for, even if wehad succeeded in breaking through, we could never have made our wayback up the steps. This I told Harry; he admitted reluctantly that Iwas right.

  We now found ourselves in a lane so low and narrow that it wasnecessary for us to stoop and proceed in single file. Our progress wasslow; the guide was continually turning to beckon us on with gesturesof impatience.

  At length he halted and stood facing us. The guard that followedgathered close in the rear, the guide made a curious upward movementwith his arm, and when we stood motionless repeated it several times.

  "I suppose he wants us to fly," said Harry with so genuine a tone ofsarcasm that I gave an involuntary smile.

  The guide's meaning was soon evident. It took some seconds for my eyeto penetrate the darkness, and then I saw a spiral stair ascendingperpendicularly, apparently carved from the solid rock. Harry musthave perceived it at the same moment, for he turned to me with a shortlaugh:

  "Going up? Not for me, thank you. The beggar means for us to goalone."

  For a moment I hesitated, glancing round uncertainly at the dusky formsthat were ever pressing closer upon us. We were assuredly between thedevil and the deep sea.

  Then I said, shrugging my shoulders: "It's no good pulling, Harry.Come on; take a chance. You said it--going up!"

  I placed my foot on the first step of the spiral stair.

  Harry followed without comment. Up we went together, but slowly. Thestair was fearfully steep and narrow, and more than once I barelyescaped a fall.

  Suddenly I became aware that light was descending on us from above.With every step upward it became brighter, until finally it was asthough a noonday sun shone in upon us.

  There came an exclamation from Harry, and we ascended faster. Iremember that I counted a hundred and sixty steps--and then, as aglimmering of the truth shot through my brain into certainty, I countedno more.

  Harry was crowding me from below, and we took the last few steps almostat a run. Then the end, and we stumbled out into a blaze of light andsurveyed the surrounding scene with stupefaction and wonder.

  It was not new to us; we had seen it before, but from a different angle.

  We were on the top of the column in the center of the lake; on the spotwhere Desiree had whirled in the dance of the sun.