The Web of the Golden Spider

The Priest shifted his eyes to the caravan itself. He made a note of the picks and shovels.

“You have the implements,” he remarked, “for grave digging. I trust you will not need to use them. Adios, my friends.”

He watched them until they disappeared into the woods with a sinister, self-confident smile like a spider watching a fly take the path into his web; a smile that gave him an expression strangely like that of the image itself. Before he turned into the hut again he gave several orders. Three of the brown men melted into the shadows after the caravan.

CHAPTER XX

In the Footsteps of Quesada

Once out of hearing, Stubbs, who had not spoken a word, broke out.

“If there ever was a devil treading the earth, it’s that man. I’ve tol’ Danbury so from the first. Ye can’t trust that sort. My fingers jus’ itched along the butt of my weapin’ all the while ye was talkin’. Seems though a man oughter have a right to plug sech as him an’ be done with it.”

“You’re prejudiced, Stubbs. I’ll admit the man is queer, but, after all, he is protecting his own beliefs and his own people. I don’t know as I would trust him any further than you, but–he is something of a pathetic figure, too, Stubbs.”

“Huh?”

“Looks to me almost like an exile. I’ve got more to hate him for than you have, but I don’t very long at a time.”

“Ye’ve got more t’ like him for, too; he’s doin’ his best to git rid of Sorez fer you. But I says, ‘Watch him. Watch him day an’ night–mos’ particlarly at night.’”

“But what did he mean by to-morrow? I don’t know but what we ought to let the treasure go and find Sorez first.”

“Find Sorez and ye has ter help him; help him and the Priest fixes us immejiate. Then where’s yer girl? No, th’ thing for us ter do is ter git th’ treasure first and get it quick. Then we has somethin’ ter work with.”

“And if the treasure isn’t there?”

“Get the girl an’ make a run for home. The Priest won’t touch her so long as he thinks she is jus’ bein’ fooled. If we joins th’ band, he won’t think so an’ will kill us all.”

“I don’t know but what you’re right,” answered Wilson.

They pushed their tired animals on to the foot of the mountain and, pausing here just long enough to catch their breath, began the long ascent. It was no child’s play from the first. The path was narrow, rocky, and steep, blocked by undergrowth and huge boulders, many of which at a touch became loosened and plunged with a crashing roar down the slope behind them. With any lesser incentive than that which drove them on, they would have stopped a dozen times.

Ahead of them loomed the broken crater edge with just below it a fringe of stubby trees which broke off abruptly where the barren lava began. The cone was like a huge sugar loaf with the upper third cut off unevenly. The edges were sharp and made a wild jumble of crags which were broken by many deep fissures. Here and there the mountain was split into a yawning chasm. But the growth extended to within about an eighth of a mile of the top. Here it stopped and the path became nothing but a dizzy climb up a slope as steep and smooth as a house roof.

They tethered their animals on the edge of the green growth and here Stubbs set about making a camping place for the night.

“I don’t want the dark comin’ down on me,” he growled as Wilson suggested leaving their things and pushing on to the top, “not until I finds a solid place fer my back where nothin’ can come up behin’. You go on if ye wants to, an’ I’ll git things settled.”

Wilson hesitated, but in the end he was drawn on. She lay beyond, somewhere upon the shores of the lake. It was a scramble almost upon hands and knees. It looked as though it were an impossibility for men heavily laden ever to make their way to the top. He turned once to look back, and saw behind him the green sweep of the beautiful valley of Jaula–then mile upon mile of heavy timber which extended to where the lusty mountains began once more. He attacked the trail anew and at the end of twenty minutes reached the top, bruised, cut, and exhausted. He looked down within the cone–not upon death and desolation, not upon ashes and tumbled rock, but upon the blue waters of the lake of Guadiva. It lay nestled within the bosom of this cone at a depth of just where, on the outside, the green began. The sun had set early upon it and it now lay a grayish-blue surface surrounded by a luxuriant tangle of growing things. In a circle about it stood the dark buttress of the lava sides. It was like a turquoise set in stone. The contrast to its surroundings was as startling as a living eye of faultless blue in a grinning skull.

He did not have long to look at it–not long to search its borders for some sign of the living. The dark came swiftly. As he was about to turn back, he thought he caught a glimpse of a spiral of smoke upon the farther side, but as he stared at this, it faded until he was not sure it had been at all. He took it for a good-night message from her. Then gold and jewels, though they might be within arm’s reach, became as nothing before the deep desire which almost dragged his heart from his body–which almost sent him scrambling down the steep sides within the cone to make a wild dash to reach her side that night.

When he returned, he found Stubbs anxiously waiting for him with supper ready and a shelter for the night picked out beneath two large rocks which effectively guarded their rear.

The next morning, as soon as the sun tipped with pink the snow-capped tops of the Andes, Stubbs was up and studying the map again. The air during the night had been sharp, but snugly wrapped in their blankets both men had secured a sound sleep. Towards the early morning, however, Wilson had begun to toss a little with thoughts of Jo. It was of her he first spoke. Stubbs interrupted him sharply.

“See here, m’ son,” he said with some irritation, “we ain’t got but a darned short time in which to work. So th’ only way is to mark out a course now and stick to it. While you’ve been dreamin’ of yer lady-love–which is right an’ proper–I’ve been thinkin’ on how we can git her an’ the other thing too. Here’s the pint I hed reached when you interrupted me: first and foremost, ye can’t git th’ girl until ye gits suthin’ to git her with. Sorez ain’t a-goin’ to listen to you until ye can show him he’s wrong. He ain’t goneter b’lieve he’s wrong until ye can show him th’ treasure. Secondly, the Priest gent ain’t goneter sleep till he finds out what fer we are wanderin’ ’round here. Thirdly, when he does find out, it ain’t goneter be comfortable, as ye might say, to be seen in this here harbor. Fourthly, it ain’t goneter be easy to git away with what we does find with a couple of hundred natives at our heels, which they will be mighty soon. So, says I, we’d better quit dreamin’ an’ begin fishin’ right erway.”

He paused to see what effect this had. Wilson nodded for him to go on.

“Then we’ll take another p’int; this here map starts from the hut where the heathen image lived. Wherefore we’ve got ter find thet hut afore we can start. We’ve gotter lay our course from thet. So, says I, there’s jus’ one thing ter do–hunt fer it lively.”

“On the other hand,” broke in Wilson, “if Sorez is in danger, the girl is in danger. The treasure is going to be here for a while longer, but maybe the girl won’t. If we could combine forces with Sorez–”

“Well, I’m damned!” growled Stubbs. “See here, m’ boy, the only thing that will do is to bring the Priest down on us. If Sorez wasn’t crazy, he wouldn’t have come in here with thet idol with less than a regiment back of him. But he has, an’ what we wanter do is ter keep outer the squall he’s in.”

“You don’t understand the man. He is absolutely fearless. He knows the place–he knows the natives–he knows the Priest. He won’t be caught napping.”

“Maybe so. Then he don’t need us.”

Wilson sprang to his feet. He was half ashamed of an obsession which shut out thought of everything else but the girl.

“See here, Stubbs,” he blurted out, “you’re right and I’m a sickly sentimentalist. I’ve been thinking so much of her that I’m not fit for an expedition of this sort. But from now on I’m under your orders. We’ll get this heathen treasure–and we’ll take it down and show it to Sorez–and we’ll take the girl and fight our way out if we have to. As you say, we haven’t much time and we’ve got to work hard. We know the hut is near the cone and overlooks the lake. Let’s see–”

He reached for the map which he had fastened about his neck, but Stubbs checked his hand.

“Easy, boy. Jus’ as well not to let the shadders know we has maps. I’ve gut my copy here hidden in the grass. S’posin’ the hut is in the center; this here docyment mentions two peaks–one ‘kissed by the sun’ which I take it is the highest, and t’ other where ‘the trees climb highest.’ Now at sea we often lays our course inshore by jus’ sech marks. I figgers it out this way; these p’ints bein’ startin’ p’ints from the hut mus’ be somewhere nigh the hut. So if we finds the tallest peak on the horizon an’ then the peak on the cone where the trees come up the farthest an’ gits the two in line, we’ll have a straight course for the hut. Ain’t thet so?”

“Sounds right.”

“Maybe it is; maybe it ain’t. Anyhow, it’s wuth tryin’. Now I’m for givin’ the burros lots er rope an’ lettin’ ’em nibble here. Then we’ll hide our provisions in one place an’ our ammunition in another and start immedjiate. I ’spect there’s a dozen of them niggers watchin’ us. We’ll take a good look roun’ fore we begin.”

Both men beat the bushes for the radius of a hundred rods or more without, however, bringing to light anything but a few birds. Then Stubbs piled the provisions and blankets together with the picks and shovels into a crevice between the rocks and covered them with dry leaves and bits of sticks. He made another reconnoitre before hiding the ammunition. This he finally buried in another crevice, covering it so skillfully that not a leaf beneath which it lay looked as though it had been disturbed. He piled a few stones in one place, notched a tree in another, and left a bit of his handkerchief in a third spot, to mark the caché. Then, shouldering their rifles, the two men began the ascent.

Refreshed by their rest and the brisk morning air, they reached the summit easily and once again Wilson gazed down upon the lake now reflecting golden sunbeams until it looked as though it were of molten gold itself. Even Stubbs was moved by its beauty.

“Sorter makes you feel like worshipin’ suthin’ yerself,” he exclaimed.

But he was the practical one of the two, or they would have got no further. His eyes swept the surrounding circle of peaks until they rested upon a majestic pile which so clearly overtopped its fellows as to leave no doubt that this must be the one “kissed by the sun.” To the right from where they stood the second landmark was equally distinct, the green creeping up its sides several hundred rods higher than upon the others.

“There ye are!” he exclaimed, pointing them out to Wilson. “Clear as though they was labeled. An’ now we can’t stand here admirin’ the scenery. There ain’t no trolley to where we’re bound.”

He led the way, keeping as closely as possible to the crater’s edge. But the path was a rugged one and frequently broken by half-hidden ravines which often drove them down and in a wide circle around. It was a place for sure feet and sound nerves for they skirted the edge of sheer falls of hundreds of feet. Before they reached a position opposite the crater peak, they found themselves almost down to the green line again. Here they discovered a sort of trail–scarcely marked more than a sheep path, but still fairly well outlined. They followed this to the top again. When they looked down upon the lake and across to the distant summit, they found the two landmarks in line. But neither to the right nor to the left could they see the hut–that magnet which had drawn them for so many miles over the sea. Stubbs looked disconsolate.

“Well,” he said finally, “jus’ my luck. Mighter known better.”

“But we haven’t given up yet,” said Wilson. “Did you expect to find a driveway leading to it? You get out to the right and I’ll explore to the left.”

Stubbs had not been gone more than ten minutes before he heard a shout from Wilson and hurrying to his side found him peering into a small stone hut scarcely large enough to hold more than a single man.

As the two stood there they felt for the first time the possibilities which lay before them. The quest loomed larger and more real than ever before. From a half ghost treasure it became a reality. As the first actual proof of the verity of the map which they possessed it gave them a keener vision of what was to come.

“Lord, if it should be true!” gasped Stubbs.

“Man–man, it is!” cried Wilson. “I feel it tingling through every vein. We are on the very edge of the biggest treasure a man ever found!”

“What–did the paper say there was? Can you remember?”