Real Gold: A Story of Adventure

“Those are not shes – they’re both men,” said Cyril sharply.

Perry looked at the pair incredulously, for they certainly had a most feminine aspect, being broad of figure and face, plump-cheeked, and with thick long hair cut square across the forehead and allowed to hang down behind. Their eyes were dreamy-looking and oblique, their faces perfectly devoid of hair, and to add to their womanish look, they wore a loose kind of cotton garment, which hung down from their shoulders nearly to their ankles.

“I say, what are they doing?” said Perry, as he stared at the pair.

“Taking snuff. That’s their way. They carry some in a little bag, and when they want to take any, they put the powder in that little siphon-like pipe, and hold it to their nose, and another one blows it up. That one sitting down’s the guide father is getting for you. – Here, hi!”

The Indians looked round, nodded, finished the snuff-taking business, and then came deliberately toward the boys.

“They’re Antis,” said Cyril, as Perry watched the two sleepy-looking Indians curiously, and noted that they were both about his own height.

The men came close up, and stood there smiling, waiting to be spoken to; and as Perry had hoped, their presence took Cyril out of himself for the time.

“Been to see my father?” said Cyril in a mongrel kind of Spanish.

One of the Indians nodded.

“And his father too?”

The man replied that he was going now. So Cyril interpreted the few words.

“That’s the worst of them; and it’s so hard to make them understand exactly what you mean. He didn’t know what I meant, and had not been – What say?” For the Indian had muttered something which he repeated.

“Wants to know if I’m going too,” said Cyril bitterly; and he shook his head at the Indian, when both smiled and looked pleased.

Cyril gave his teeth a grind. “You beggars,” he cried in English, “looking glad because I’m disappointed. – And I’ve given that first chap many a good tuck out, and lots of tobacco dust for snuff, and paid him no end of times for birds he has shot with his blowpipe, besides buying butterflies and eggs he has brought down out of the mountains. All right, though; I’ll serve them out. – I say,” cried the boy, and a complete change came over him, “can you speak Spanish?”

“I? No, not a word.”

“That’s a pity. You’ll have to learn a few words, so as to be able to talk to these chaps. But you’ll soon pick them up – some Indian, some Spanish, and some half-and-half. Wait a moment; I want to talk to this chap about – about your going.”

He began to speak to the man in a low voice, and then grew more and more eager, while the Indian began by smiling and looking amused, but, directly after, shook his head, and seemed to be refusing something which Cyril was asking. Then Perry saw the lad put his hand in his pocket and give the Indian a good two-bladed pocket-knife, whose keenness he demonstrated to the great interest of the Indian, who tried it on one of the heavy posts by the wharf, and then transferred it to his pocket with a smile of satisfaction, nodding his head now to everything Cyril said.

Their conversation lasted for some time, and Perry began to grow impatient after he had satisfied his scrutiny of the two Indians’ appearance, and wondered why they should disfigure themselves by painting horizontal lines from their noses across their cheeks.

“There,” cried Cyril, speaking rather excitedly, “it’s all right now. He says he’ll take great care of you, and wait upon you as if you were his father, and always find the best places for sleeping, and mind you don’t tumble down into any of the great gaps. But, I say, Perry, old chap, you do wish I was going, don’t you?”

“Of course I do.”

“Ah, well, I suppose I must give in and make the best of it, mustn’t I?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“And you can’t write to me and tell me how you are getting on. There are no post-offices up there.”

“No, I suppose not.”

“You suppose not!” cried Cyril, laughing, and looking as if his bitter fit had quite passed away.

“Why, you’re going where you’ll hardly see a soul, unless you meet a party coming down from the mines, or bringing bales of bark. There, I’m not going to look grumpy any more, but I did feel savage for a bit.”

“That’s right. Let’s make the best of it while we’re together, and do some more fishing, or have a mule ride or two.”

“No,” said Cyril decisively, “that’s all over now. Father told me this morning that I should have to work and help you make all your preparations, for there would be no end to do. Come along. They’re going up to see your father now.”

The two Indians were both moving off, and the boys followed to the house, where they were witnesses to the meeting, Captain Norton having followed shortly, and acting as interpreter between the parties.

“It is rather awkward,” he said, “but I daresay you will soon pick up enough of their jargon to make them understand.”

“Oh yes,” said the colonel. “I could gather the man’s meaning from the Spanish words he used.”

“Then you will soon manage. Of course, if you had been a Spaniard, it would have been easy enough.”

“I shall not worry about that part of the business,” said the colonel, “so long as the man is willing, and will do his best. But we shall want two others to attend to the mules.”

“He understands that. He is going to bring another trustworthy fellow. He proposed doing so himself.”

“And they can manage the mules?”

“Oh yes, you may trust them. This man, Diego, as we call him, has been in the habit of coming down from the mountains for years to trade and sell. I consider that I was very lucky in getting him for you. When will you start, shall I tell him?”

“On the sixth day from now.”

“That is soon, is it not?”

“No; that ought to be time enough to get our mule-packs ready, and a sufficiency of stores. I have everything else.”

“Don’t hurry,” said Captain Norton. “You are very welcome here, and I shall regret your going.”

“I know that,” said the colonel warmly, “but I am eager to begin, and shall be restless till I start.”

The captain nodded, and said a few words to the Indians, who replied, and then took their departure, it being fully understood that they would be there, ready, on the sixth morning.

“Ha!” exclaimed the colonel, “that is satisfactory. – Now then, Perry, my boy, call up John Manning to unpack the luggage, and we’ll make our selection of what we mean to take. Captain Norton will keep in store for us all that we decide to leave, and he will help us with his experience in making our selection. – And you will help too, Cyril, will you not?”

“Of course, sir.”

“Thanks. Sorry I can’t take you, my lad, but your father is right.”

Those next five days passed almost like magic. Six highly-bred mules were selected by Captain Norton’s help, and furnished with packages and hide ropes, besides more for riding purposes.

“But we shan’t be able to manage so many, sir,” said John Manning, a lithe, dry-looking man of about forty, who had been the colonel’s servant when he was in the army, and had stayed with him ever since, to Perry’s great disgust; for the lad declared that he was the most disagreeable fellow under the sun, since he was always grumbling.

It was quite true, for he found fault with everything to the two boys; though silent, as if he were still in the ranks, in the presence of the colonel. But he quite won Cyril’s heart in one of his grumbles, and always after, during their preparations, the boy declared that he was capital fun, and that he liked him.

“There, young gentlemen,” said John, “that’s as much toggery as I can get in the colonel’s soft portmanter, and you’ll have to make shift, Master Perry, if you want any more flannels and things.”

“Oh, there’ll be enough, John,” said Perry. “A fellow don’t want collars and cuffs up in the mountains.”