Real Gold: A Story of Adventure. Fenn George Manville

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nonsense!”

      “Do you know what the next country is to this?”

      “Well, I suppose, if you went far enough over the mountains, you’d come to Brazil.”

      “Zackley, sir; and what comes from Brazil?”

      “Nuts,” said Perry, laughing. “Hard-shelled, oily nuts, that are horribly nasty to eat.”

      “Yes, sir, and di’monds. So don’t you say it ain’t likely that we may come to a valley of precious stones, because it strikes me that’s what it means.”

      Onward and upward, along paths partly natural, partly cut in the sides of the gorge where the stream ran, and about mid-day Perry began to realise how high the mountains were, for, upon reaching an opening where he could look up and down, he saw that they had been climbing up and up for about seven hours, and were able to look down at a wonderful panorama of mountain-side and valley; but upon looking upward, the great snowy peak appeared to be as far away as when they started.

      Just then the guide spoke to the leading mule, his voice echoing back from across the gorge, for they had reached a slope where the sun shone, and there were patches of grass and green shrub which promised pasture for the animals. They all stopped at once, waited patiently to be relieved of their burdens; and then, when the packs were neatly arranged in a circle, the patient beasts threw themselves down, had a good roll, tossing their legs high in the air, so as to balance themselves for a few moments upon their spines, and then rose again, to begin nibbling at such herbage as they could find.

      John Manning busied himself at once and started a fire, while, taking a tin, the second Indian went down the steep slope to the bottom of the gorge, and toiled up again with his load of clear icily-cold water, into which, when it boiled, a small handful of tea was thrown, the tin removed from the fire, and the provisions the colonel’s servant had taken from a basket were served out.

      The Indians took what was given to them, and sat down by themselves, while the others partook of their portions with great gusto.

      Then, upon looking round, Perry found that the Indians were fast asleep, and asked his father whether he ought not to go and wake them up.

      “No, boy; they’ll take their mid-day nap and wake up soon.”

      And so it proved, for at the end of a couple of hours, the two men suddenly sprang up, caught the leading mule and led him back to the path, the others following and standing patiently to be laden.

      Then onward again till dark, when the guides halted at a spot like the last, the fire was lit, the evening meal prepared, and, well tired out, Perry lay down to pass the first night in the awful solitude to which they had climbed, and gazed up at the brilliant stars seen between large walls of rock. He wondered what Cyril was doing; felt that it would be impossible to sleep cushioned on that hard rock, and fell asleep directly, as a matter of course.

      The night was cold up there beneath the glittering stars, but when Perry woke up, warmly rolled in his blanket, there was a sight before him that was as new to him as it was grand.

      Right away, apparently at the head of a long narrow valley, and high up toward the heavens, there was a huge peak that might have been the mass of glittering rock from which broke away the diamonds, emeralds, sapphires, rubies, opals, and amethysts, which went to form the valleys of precious stones of which John Manning had spoken. For it was all dark below, but up there one of the gigantic Andean peaks was bathed in the full blaze of the rising sun.

      The boy lay gazing up, enraptured, thinking of the delight of climbing up into such a world of glory, and then rolling himself out of his blanket, he leaped up, with the stiffness and uneasiness of the past night quite gone, for the colonel’s voice reached him:

      “Now, my lad, jump up; breakfast.”

      At the same moment he heard the crackling sound of burning wood, and in a nook of the great wall of rock, where otherwise it would have been quite dark, the glow of a bright fire shone upon the intent, hard face of John Manning, who was baking a bread cake upon a disc of iron, while the two plump, effeminate-looking Indians watched him complacently.

      Just below, the mules were cropping the green herbage, and from below them came the rush, roar, and splash of falling water.

      “That’s right,” cried the colonel, holding out his hand. “Slept well? Find your bedroom draughty?”

      “I don’t know, father,” said Perry. “I was looking at the stars one minute, and the next I was staring at that glorious peak.”

      “Glorious indeed, my boy. Hah! There’s nothing like a tramp in the mountains, and a night’s rest in the beautiful, crisp, fresh air. Come along down to the dressing-room.”

      “Where?” said Perry, staring.

      “Down yonder for a wash,” said the colonel merrily; and, leading the way, they descended the precipitous slope to where the stream ran thundering by, reaching first a place where it was not above a couple of yards across.

      “Why, I thought it would be bigger than this,” said Perry, “from the noise it makes.”

      “Bigger than you think, my lad,” said the colonel. “There is an enormous amount of water going by here. I daresay that crack is a hundred feet deep. Look at the speed at which it runs.”

      “Yes, it seems to run fast.”

      “Seems!” cried the colonel. “Here, give me your hand. Don’t be afraid. Stop a moment; roll up your sleeve above your elbow. That’s it. Set your feet fast, and trust to me.”

      The boy obeyed, and after making sure of his own footing, the colonel let his son sink down sidewise till he was nearly horizontal, and could plunge his arm right into the stream above the elbow.

      It was a strange sensation for the boy to be sinking lower and lower, gazing in the gloom at that rushing, glassy water, which, as it darted along, carried with it another stream – one of air, which blew his hair about and felt icily-cold, but nothing to compare with the water into which he plunged his arm.

      The shock was electric. It was as if he received a blow from a mass of ice which numbed him, and gave his limb a sudden snatch and drag to draw it from the socket.

      Perry gave a gasp, and pulled his arm out of the torrent.

      “Ugh!” he ejaculated. “It’s freezing.”

      “Yes; would you like a plunge in?”

      “What! there, father? It would sweep me away.”

      “Yes, if you were a thousand times as strong, my lad. The force is tremendous. Come along here.”

      He led the way upwards to where there was a fall of some few feet, and at the side a shallow pool of the water, wonderfully round, and forming a basin, giving them ample room for their ablutions; after which, fresh and glowing, they climbed up past the mules to where the breakfast was waiting, the hot coffee, bread, and frizzled charqui, or dried beef, being partaken of with an appetite Perry had never felt before.

      Then the remains were packed up, the squealing mules loaded, and they started once more; now rising a thousand feet, now descending, but always following the stream deeper and deeper into the mountains, till the grandeur and weird sternness of the gorge’s defiles through which they passed grew monotonous, so that at the end of two

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