Real Gold: A Story of Adventure

by George Manville Fenn

  CHAPTER SEVEN.

  THE SLIPPERY WAY.

  "Awake, Cil?" whispered Perry, just as daylight was making its way downinto the depths of the valley, and a faint glow became visible on one ofthe snow peaks.

  "Yes," was whispered back, "these two hours."

  "Couldn't you sleep?"

  "No; not for thinking. It's all very well for you, but I've got to hearwhat your father _says_ this morning."

  This was unanswerable, and Perry remained silent for a few minutes,wondering what he had better say next.

  Then the inspiration came.

  "Look here, Cil," he said; "you won't get on any the better for having apainted and dirty face. I'll get a bit of soap, and we'll go down andhave a good wash."

  "What's the good?" said Cyril. "Dirty painted face goes best withthings like this."

  "Yes, but you're not going like this," said Perry. "You must put ondecent clothes."

  "Haven't got any," said Cyril sourly.

  "No, but I have--two spare suits, and you shall have one."

  Cyril gave a start.

  "I say, Per," he whispered excitedly, "do you mean that?"

  "Of course I do. My things will fit you, and you can have a regularrig-out."

  "Oh!" ejaculated Cyril. "Come on then, quick."

  They stole out of their corner to the baggage pile, where Perry pointedto the portmanteau containing his kit, signing to Cyril to take one endand help him to bear it a dozen yards away to where a huge mass of rockhad fallen from above.

  "Here we are," cried Perry, dragging out one of the suits that had beenmade expressly for the journey. "They'll fit you, I know."

  "Fit!" cried Cyril excitedly; "of course they will. Once get myselfdecent, I shan't so much mind what the colonel says--I mean, I can bearit better. I did feel such a poor miserable wretch when he was talkingto me in the night. It all seemed so easy just to dress like one of theIndians; but as soon as I was in that long shirt thing, with my barelegs and feet, I felt as if I'd suddenly turned into a savage, anddaren't look any one in the face."

  "And I don't wonder at it," growled a deep voice. "Here, what game'sthis, young gents?"

  The boys looked up to see that John Manning was peering over the rock,and they were so startled for a few moments that neither spoke.

  "Going off again, and you with him, Master Perry? Well, you don't dothat while I'm here."

  "Don't be so stupid, John," cried Perry, recovering himself. "Can't yousee what we're doing?"

  "Yes, that's what I can see, making of yourselves a little kit apiece,ready to desert, both of you."

  "Rubbish!" cried Perry.--"That's all, isn't it, Cyril?"

  "Boots!" said Cyril dolefully; "but I don't know how I am going to getthem on."

  "Oh, a good bathing will do that. Here you are.--Now, John Manning,fasten this up again, and take it back."

  "Honour, Master Perry?"

  "Honour what?"

  "You're not going to desert?"

  "You go and light a good fire and get breakfast ready; we're going downto have a bathe."

  "Oh, that's it, is it?" said the old soldier, chuckling. "Well, a bathwould improve Master Cyril. Shall I bring you down a tin of hot water,gentlemen."

  "You be off, and hold your tongue. I don't want my father to know untilwe get back."

  "All right, gentlemen," said John Manning, grinning; "but I say, MasterCyril, there'll be court-martial on you arter breakfast."

  "Come along, and don't mind him," whispered Perry, and they hurried downto the side of the torrent, where they had to spend some time before asuitable place was found where they could bathe without being washedaway, for the water ran with tremendous force. But at length a safespot was hit upon, where the stream eddied round and round; and herePerry's tin of soap was brought into play with plenty of vigour, therebeing no temptation to prolong their stay in water which had comefreshly down from the snow, and which turned their skins of a bluishscarlet by the time they were dressed.

  "Shall I pitch this smock-frock thing into the stream?" said Perry, witha look of satisfaction at his companion.

  "Throw it away? No. Perhaps your father will order me to keep it towear, and make me give back your clothes."

  "I know my father better than that," cried Perry warmly.

  "But see how he went on at me last night, and how he'll go on at meagain to-day. I wish I hadn't done it."

  "I'm glad you are come, Cil," said Perry; "but it does seem a pity.Whatever made you do it?"

  "I hardly know," said the boy sadly. "I was so down in the dumpsbecause I couldn't come with you, and I did so long, for it seemed as ifyou were going to have all the fun, and I was to be left drudging awayat home, where it was going to be as dull as dull without you. And thenI got talking to Diego, and when he heard that I was not coming too, hesaid he should give it up. He wasn't coming with three strangers, hesaid, for how did he know how people with plenty of guns and powder andshot would behave to him."

  "He said that?" cried Perry.

  "Yes, and a lot more about it, and he wanted me to ask father again tolet me come."

  "And did you?"

  "No; where would have been the use? When father says a thing, he meansit. Then Diego turned quite sulky, and I thought he was going to giveup altogether. That was two days before you were going to start, and Ibegged him not to throw you over, and he said he wouldn't if I came too;and when I told him my father wouldn't let me, he said why not comewithout leave? And after a great deal of talking, in which he alwayshad the best of me, because I wanted to do as he proposed, at last Isaid I would, and he got me the Indian dress and the bow and arrows."

  "And when did you start?"

  "That same night, after they'd gone to bed at home. I'd got the thingsall ready, and I soon dressed and locked up the clothes I took off in adrawer they weren't likely to look into, so that they might keep onexpecting to see me back, thinking I'd gone out next morning early, andthat would give me a start of all that night and all next day."

  "What a thing to do!" said Perry.

  "Yes; wasn't it? Didn't seem so bad in the hurry and worry of gettingoff I didn't think about anything but hurrying on after you, and then Igot very tired and hot, and that kept me too from thinking aboutanything but catching up to you."

  "But how did you know the way?" said Perry.

  "Oh, that was easy enough. Diego told me which road he should take, andI'd been along there before as far as the place where he said he wouldwait for me."

  "Yes, he said when you would come."

  "And when at last I was getting nearer to you, I began to lose heartaltogether, and I'd eaten all the food I brought with me; and I'd had solittle sleep, because I was obliged to overtake you before you started.If I had not--"

  He stopped short, and Perry stared at him.

  "Go on," he said at last. "If you hadn't what?"

  "If I hadn't caught up to you, it would have been all over."

  "Nonsense! Why? You'd have gone back."

  "No. I'd been one whole day without anything to eat, and I couldn'thave got back, tired as I was, in less than four days. I should havelain down and died."

  "But you'd have met somebody," said Perry.

  "Up here? No. There's a caravan of llamas comes down about twice ayear, and now and then a traveller comes along, but very seldom. Howmany people did you meet?"

  "Not one."

  "No, and you were not likely to. I knew this, and it made me keep onwalking to overtake you, for it was my only chance."

  "But did you think about what a risky thing you were going to do beforeyou started?"

  "No," said Cyril sadly; "all that came after, and there was no goingback."

  "But what a way your father and mother must be in. What will theythink?"

  "Oh, don't, don't, don't!" groaned Cyril. "Think I haven't gone over itall, times enough? I never thought how much there was in it, or whattrouble it would make till it was too late.
Do you think I'd have cometo be near you for a minute last night, if I'd known that the colonelwas going to shoot at me?"

  "Of course not."

  "And that's the way with lots of things: one don't think about them tillit's too late. Hush, here he comes."

  For while the boys were busy talking, they had climbed up the side ofthe valley, and come close up to the fire before they were aware of it.

  "Humph!" ejaculated the colonel sternly. "So you've given up being asavage then, young fellow, eh?"

  "Yes, sir," said Cyril humbly.

  "You'll join us at breakfast, then, eh?"

  "I don't feel as if I could eat anything, thank you, sir."

  "No, I shouldn't think you did; I don't think I should have much of anappetite if I had behaved to my father and mother as you have behaved toyours. But there, you are my friend's son, and I must be hospitable, Isuppose. Come and have breakfast, and then the sooner you are off back,the better."

  Perry stared at his father so hard that the colonel noticed it.

  "Well, boy," he said, "what is it?"

  "I was thinking about what you said, father."

  "About his going back? Well, what about it?"

  "How is he to go all the way back by himself?"

  "The same way as he came, sir, of course."

  "He couldn't do it, father. His feet are sore, and he'd have to carryall the provisions he'd want on the way."

  "Provisions! To carry? Why, he hasn't got any.--Have you, sir?" Cyrilshook his head. "Then how do you expect to get back?"

  "I don't know," said the boy sadly. "No!" thundered the colonel. "Ofcourse you don't know. Nice sort of a young scoundrel you've provedyourself. Scoundrel? No: lunatic. You can't go on with us, because,out of respect for your father, I won't have you; and you can't go backalone, because you have no stores. What do you mean to do--lie down anddie?"

  "Perhaps I'd better," said Cyril bitterly; "there seems to be nothingelse I can do."

  "Well, don't lie down and die anywhere near where I'm camping, sir,because it would be very unpleasant, and spoil my journey. What time doyou start back, now you can go decently?"

  "Now, sir," said Cyril, and he turned sharply and took a step to go, butthe colonel caught him by the shoulder.

  "Come and have your breakfast first, sir. If you can behave badly toyour father and mother, I cannot, by ill-treating their son. Nononsense: come and sit down, and I'm very glad to see that you arebeginning to realise what a mad trick it is of which you have beenguilty.--Ready, Manning?"

  "Yes, sir," came back from the fire, and a minute later they were allseated in silence, partaking of the hot coffee and fried bacon madeready for them by Manning, who gave Cyril a bit of a grin as he saw thechange in his appearance.

  The colonel ate heartily, but Perry's appetite was very poor; and Cyrilcould hardly master a morsel, in spite of the colonel's manner becomingless harsh.

  "Come, boy," he said, "eat. You've a long journey back, and you'dbetter make much of the provisions, now you have a chance. I'll sendyour father a line in pencil for you to bear, and to exonerate me fromcausing him so much uneasiness. By the way, how many days do you thinkit will take you to get back?"

  Cyril tried to answer indignantly, but the words seemed to stick in histhroat; and Perry's face grew red at what he considered to be hisfather's harsh treatment of the lad whom he looked upon as his friend.There was a painful silence, then, for some minutes, during which thecolonel went on with his breakfast, and Perry sat with his eyes dropped,unable to get any farther.

  All at once, Cyril spoke out in a half-suffocated voice, as he looked upindignantly at the colonel. "Isn't it too hard upon me, sir," he cried,"to keep on punishing me like this? You know I cannot go back, or Ishould have gone long ago."

  "I want to punish you, sir, because I want to make you feel what a madthing you have done, and how bitterly cruel you have been to a fatherwho trusted in your honour as a gentleman, and a mother whose affectionfor you was without bounds."

  "But, don't I know all that?" cried Cyril, springing up and speakingpassionately now. "Hasn't it been torturing me for days past; andwouldn't I have gone back if I could, and owned how wrong I had been?"

  "Only you had found that, when once you had foolishly put your foot onthe slippery decline, you could not get back to the starting-point, andhave gone on gliding down ever since," said the colonel, speakingquietly. "Yes, my lad, I believe you have been bitterly sorry for yourfoolish escapade since you started, and you have been severely punished.There, I will say no more about it."

  "And you will help me to get back, sir?"

  "If an opportunity occurs. As soon as we meet an Indian who can betrusted, you can take two of the mules, and a sufficiency of provisionsto last till you get back. I am a man short now, or one of these shouldreturn with you at once. I am sorry for your people, but I cannot turnback now, and I'm sure your father would not ask it of me."

  "Thank you, sir," said Cyril humbly.

  "There," cried the colonel, "I have done my duty by you, boy. You havehad your punishment, and you have taken it bravely. I have no more tosay, especially as you are not yet out of the wood, but have your fatherto meet."

  "Yes, sir, I have my father to meet," said Cyril.

  "Then, now eat your breakfast, and let's get on again. Take off thatmiserable face, for I shall not refer to the trouble again."

  He held out his hand. Something very like a sob escaped from Cyril'slips, as the boy made a quick snatch at his hand, and held it in his fora moment or two.

  Then the breakfast went on in silence, and Perry's appetite suddenlyreturned; while Cyril did not do so very badly after all.