Indiana Jones and the Interior World

by Rob MacGregor

  "She's going hiking in the mountains when she's feeling better. I've got to go back to the States." Indy realized the comment probably sounded absurd, but he didn't care. The kid didn't know the circumstances and Indy wasn't about to explain.

  "She's going up there alone?"

  "She likes to hike," he said, lamely.

  "Do you know where she is going?"

  "Like I said, the mountains. The Sierra Nevada of Santa Marta."

  "There are many peaks, but we call it one mountain. Its highest peak is almost nineteen thousand feet, and it's only twenty-six miles from the coast. That's closer to the ocean than any other mountain that big."

  "Sounds like you know your facts."

  "We studied the mountain in school, and the priest, Father James, used to take us on overnight trips up there."

  "Are you still in school?"

  "I had to quit to work. My family needs the money."

  "What else do you know about the mountain?" Maybe he could hire Ricardo to guide Salandra. She'd probably need a guide.

  Ricardo enthusiastically spilled a list of facts. He sounded as if he were practicing the fine art of tour guiding in a place with a conspicuous absence of people to guide. The coastal and lower slopes of the mountain were dry and arid, but a lush tropical forest grew in the moderate altitudes. Above that, a frigid, winter atmosphere prevailed on the high, wind-swept plains.

  "Anyone live up there?"

  "A few farmers, not many. The forest and slopes make it very difficult."

  "Have you ever heard of any people on the mountain called the Gatekeepers?"

  Ricardo frowned, then shook his head. "But maybe the Kogis know about them."

  "Who?"

  "The Kogis, you know, the Indians." He motioned with his hand. "They live way up high."

  Indy had never heard of them, but he assumed they were a small tribe, possibly descendants of the Taironas, whose culture was known for its advanced gold-working techniques. They had flourished in the region until the arrival of the Spaniards. "Are they friendly?"

  Ricardo hesitated. "The Kogis are not so friendly. Father James was always trying to talk to them about God. But they wouldn't listen to him. He said that of all the Indians, the Kogis are the most difficult to reach with religion. He said they were misguided souls, who had fallen into the hands of the devil."

  Indy and Ricardo turned away from the beach and headed toward the plaza. Maybe he'd have a chat with the priest himself to see what else he could find out, Indy thought. He was starting to feel bad about his intentions to abandon Salandra. "Does Father James still go up the mountain to see the Kogis?"

  Ricardo was quiet for a moment. "He went to visit them last month. He was expected back ten days ago, but nothing has been heard from him. The people are getting worried."

  Indy mulled over what he'd heard. Now he was feeling guilty about abandoning a sick woman to an unknown fate. "I tell you what. If Salandra still wants to climb the mountain when she feels better, I'll go with her and see what we can find out about the priest."

  "Muy bien. Muy bien. I will tell my mother, and she will spread the word. Can I go, too? I can show you the way to the Indian village. I went there with the priest one time."

  "We'll see." Indy's thoughts were already elsewhere. He'd accompany Salandra up the mountain, but that was all. Once she'd found her Gatekeepers, she was on her own.

  17

  The Sierra Nevada

  Indy sipped his coffee at the hotel restaurant and discreetly studied Salandra. Her recovery amazed him. Two days ago, he'd literally carried her to the room. Now she seemed not only well, but energetic.

  "I gave Ricardo a list of supplies we'll need," she said. "He should have everything together in a couple of hours."

  "Are you sure you've recovered enough?"

  "Of course I have." She dismissed his concern and prodded him about Ricardo. "Did you tell him he could join us?"

  "Not really." He took a bite of scrambled eggs. "I figured his mother wouldn't let him. Does he still want to go?"

  She nodded. "I told him to get three horses. He can accompany us until we can't ride any further. After that we have to go on our own." She must have noticed the doubtful look in Indy's eyes, because she added: "Don't worry. I know the way. I've been down the mountain and back up many times."

  Indy couldn't help but notice how she'd said down first, as if starting from the top of a mountain was the normal way to go. "By yourself?"

  "Usually."

  Somehow, he couldn't quite imagine her walking for days on the mountain, then showing up in this town. If she had managed to avoid trouble and survive the trek, she would have had her hands full here. She was tall and beautiful, a startling figure who attracted stares. But it wasn't the time to confront her about his doubts. Another matter was on his mind.

  "There's something I haven't told you." Last night Salandra had still been groggy, and Indy had put off saying anything about the priest. But now he told her about the situation, emphasizing that hostile Indians might be involved. If he could discourage her from climbing the mountain, all the better. Maybe there was another way she could get back to her world.

  "That's too bad about the priest, but I don't think that the Kogis were involved," she answered. "They don't care for missionaries. They're aloof, but they're not violent."

  "Have you met any of them?"

  She laughed. "You can't find the Gatekeepers without encountering the Kogis."

  No matter how much Indy prodded her, she wouldn't say anything more about the Kogis or Gatekeepers. A few minutes later, they crossed the plaza to the hotel. The manager hailed Indy and told him that there was a wire for him from the States.

  Great. His money had arrived. While Salandra waited for Ricardo, Indy headed to the telegraph office. A brief note from Brody accompanied the money, you're alive! great news, hurry back.

  "I'm doing my best," Indy said under his breath, as he returned to the hotel.

  He found Ricardo and Salandra waiting with the horses and supplies. Indy placed the money in a safe deposit box, and they left town by midmorning. They followed the shoreline for three or four miles along one of the most pristine stretches of beach Indy had ever seen. The deserted, white, sandy beach, the palm trees, and the tranquil, aqua Caribbean waters wove a seductive spell. He imagined swimming with Salandra, sharing the milk of the coconuts which littered the beach, and sleeping next to her under the stars. They'd send Ricardo on his way, and have the place to themselves.

  They reached a secluded cove, and he couldn't stifle the urge any longer. Indy stopped his horse and climbed down. "Maybe we should spend a day here relaxing on the beach before we get started."

  Salandra took in a deep breath and threw her head back. "It is nice here."

  "I don't think you will like it so much, not after dark," Ricardo put in. "It's not a good place."

  "Why not?" Indy asked. "It looks like a great place, if you ask me."

  "You don't have any netting. The mosquitoes would keep you awake all night. And the vampire bats are even worse. You would be covered with blood by morning."

  "Vampire bats?" Salandra said.

  "Why didn't you tell us we needed nets?" Indy asked, suddenly disgrunded with their young guide.

  "Because you didn't say you wanted to go camping on the beach. If we keep going, we'll get high enough today so that there will be no mosquitoes."

  "And no vampire bats?" Salandra asked.

  "None," he said.

  "I think we should do what he says, Indy."

  "Yeah. I guess so." Indy remounted his horse. "I never liked beaches much, anyhow. Too much sand."

  He prodded his horse, and they moved on, now turning inland toward the foothills. In the distance, two pale blue peaks glistened in the morning sunshine. They looked like diamonds suspended in the sky.

  They rode past almond and cashew nut trees, but for the most part the coastal plain was covered by a dry forest of thorny scrub bru
sh and cactus and occasional agaves and gourd trees. It was difficult to believe that they were within a few miles of a tropical rain forest, and that the forest gave way to an icy tundra.

  The sun bore down on them, and Indy concentrated on a cooling image of himself swimming in the soothing, blue waters. He imagined diving down to the coral reef, past conch shells, sponges, and starfish. He'd surface with a huge lobster in one hand and a crab in the other, and Salandra, scantily clad, would be gathering wood for a campfire. It wasn't going to happen, but the image helped him pass the time.

  By late afternoon, they had entered a humid tropical forest where the cedars and tagua palms shot up more than a hundred feet above the forest floor. Beneath it grew a lush undergrowth of avocado and laurel, carob and rubber trees, as well as thorn bushes and brambles laden with berries. Flowering liana vines of several varieties added to the exuberant jungle growth and held their parasitic grip on virtually everything that grew. The ground was wet from a recent downpour, and the water rushed down a nearby stream. The temperature was moderate, a far cry from the sultry coastal plain, and Indy was pleased to find that Ricardo was right about the lack of mosquitoes.

  They dismounted, and walked the horses a ways until they found a clearing near the stream for their campsite. Indy could see why it would be easier to walk than to ride from this point. They'd have to literally carve a trail for the horses.

  Ricardo stayed in camp that night, and they ate a thick stew prepared by the hotel's restaurant. As Indy ate, he puzzled over the matter of the Kogis, the priest, and the Gatekeepers. He knew that Salandra didn't want him to even mention the Gatekeepers in Ricardo's presence, and Indy certainly wasn't going to discuss his plans to leave her on the mountain while the kid was around.

  He scraped the last spoonful from his wooden bowl, then picked up the other two bowls and walked over to the stream to wash them. Ricardo followed him like a faithful dog. "Keep your eye out for snakes," Indy said.

  "I always do. Snakes and other things, too," Ricardo said, and he snatched something from Indy's shoulder. Indy turned to see that Ricardo held a seven-inch-long walking stick. The young guide smiled. "It's harmless," he said, and he tossed it aside.

  "What happened the time you went with the priest to the Kogis' village?" Indy asked as they headed back.

  "Nothing much. I had to wait outside the village. Father James was only there a short time. Then he came back and said that we would have to leave, that they wouldn't talk to him."

  "And you just left?" Indy asked as they reached the camp.

  Ricardo nodded. "No reason to stay."

  Salandra was already lying in her hammock. She stared up toward the dark, starless sky shrouded by the thick forest canopy. He wondered what she was thinking. "You tired?"

  "Where's Ricardo?" she asked in a low voice.

  "Over by the horses."

  "There's something about him that I can't figure out," she said.

  "What do you mean?"

  "I don't know, but I think he's hiding something from us."

  Indy laughed. "Go to sleep. You're tired."

  Indy hooked his hammock to a pair of trees a few feet from her. He thought again about what Ricardo had told him. It seemed odd to him that the priest would keep going back if the Kogis rejected him. After all, it was not exactly a short hike to the village. Maybe there was more going on than the kid knew, or was saying.

  In the morning, Indy paid Ricardo for the supplies and his service, and added a generous tip. He thanked the kid and wished him well. Ricardo stuffed the money in his pocket without counting it. "Are you sure I can't come with you? I think it would be okay with my mother. I could leave the horses at the last farm we passed, and catch up with you."

  "We'll do just fine from here, Ricardo. Don't worry. And we'll find out all we can about Father James."

  "Thanks," Ricardo said sadly, and he watched Indy and Salandra move away into the verdant jungle.

  The nearby screams of howler monkeys greeted them, and a flock of brightly colored parrots cavorted overhead. They followed animal trails, and at one turn surprised a couple of wild pigs that squealed as they ran into the forest. Salandra led the way, and seemed confident that they were moving in a southerly direction, away from the sea and toward the precipices. The forest formed a canopy high overhead, and the sunlight was further diffused by giant, dew-covered ferns that arched twenty feet above them.

  By late morning, they came upon remnants of a stone trail. Indy brushed away a layer of moss and dirt to reveal flagstones neatly fitted next to one another. "There used to be a network of villages covering this mountain," he said, recalling what he knew of the region. "The Spaniards destroyed the civilization in a generation."

  "I know," Salandra said. "Some of them escaped into the interior world."

  With the help of the Gatekeepers, no doubt. "That sounds more like Indian myth than fact."

  She smiled, but didn't say anything more.

  The longer Indy was away from his experience in the interior world, the more dreamlike it became. But he decided he'd play along with her for awhile longer. "How many of these entrances between worlds are there?"

  "There are many. I have access to several on three continents."

  "Because you're the daughter of a king?"

  "Not at all. Knowledge of the passage points is gained only through a determined effort. It is a quest of the highest dimension."

  "I thought you said your council granted the privilege."

  "Yes," Salandra answered. "But they have the power to protect only the primary gates, the ones that are most accessible."

  "Which gates can Maleiwa pass through?"

  "Too many."

  "What about the one here on the mountain?"

  "It's the easiest of all to enter. That's why it's guarded constantly."

  For the next two days, Indy and Salandra continued climbing the Sierra. They waded across streams and rivers, and bathed in pools beneath waterfalls. The temperature was perfect, neither hot nor cold. But each afternoon, they had to find shelter for a couple of hours while torrential rains swept through the forest.

  After the rain, which was always brief and left everything glistening, they plodded on through the soggy terrain. Only when they were following one of the ancient stone paths did their feet stay dry. On two occasions, Indy spotted human footprints along the trail, and wondered who else was treading these paths. Several times he paused to look around, certain that they were being watched, only to see a bird flit away or a snake slither into the underbrush.

  By the third day, Indy's feet had developed several blisters. He was limping slightly, and slowing the pace. Late in the afternoon, as they followed a path bordered by an ancient stone wall shrouded in liana vines Salandra came to a sudden stop. A huge clay urn lay a few feet from the trail. Next to it was a freshly dug pit.

  "Huaqueros!" Indy exclaimed. "They're looting the Tairona graves." He dropped into the pit and noticed several small bones scattered about, some a couple of inches under the loose soil. He was about to take a closer look at the bones, when Salandra called out to him.

  She was staring into another pit several yards away. A human jawbone with teeth, and a couple of femur bones, poked through the dirt at the bottom. Next to the bones lay a shovel. "They're destroying everything here," Salandra said.

  Indy scanned the forest. "They must still be around here."

  As if on cue, three men, one with a shotgun, stepped out of the jungle. None of them was much more than five feet tall. All were thin and wearing tattered clothes covered with dirt. Their faces were grimy. "Who are you?" the one with the shotgun demanded.

  "I was just about to ask you the same question," Indy said.

  The men laughed. "You're after our gold, aren't you?" Shotgun said. "Well, we don't have any for you to steal."

  "We're not looking for gold." Indy's hand was on his whip, and he was cautiously unhitching it. His body blocked their view of his hand.


  Shotgun raised his weapon. "This is our discovery. Put your hands in the air," he ordered.

  Indy did as he said. His whip hung loosely on his belt. But he wasn't about to take any chances. He figured they'd just found the ones who'd killed the priest.

  "Get in the pit! Both of—La mujer! Donde esta la mujer?"

  Indy glanced around and saw that Salandra was nowhere in sight. Two of the grave robbers darted around the clearing looking for her. Shotgun looked befuddled, and Indy took advantage of the confusion. He grabbed his whip and hurled it, snaring the barrel of the weapon. He jerked it out of the huaquero's grasp and scooped it up with his free hand.

  The man cursed and rushed at Indy. They struggled for the gun and fell into the pit, where they rolled over one another. Ancient bones crushed beneath them. But Indy was bigger and stronger than his assailant, and he quickly overpowered him. He looked up, expecting to see the man's partners about to leap on him. But they were gone.

  "Some friends you got, fellow. They took off."

  The bone-chilling scream of a large cat ripped through the forest, and a few seconds later the two men raced back into the clearing. Their eyes were wide with terror; they leaped into the pit. But neither of them made any effort to assault Indy.

  "Jaguar!" one of them shouted. "It's close."

  "Don't move!" Indy turned the shotgun on the men. At the same time, he kept a wary eye on the jungle. "You guys scared of a little cat?"

  "It was coming right for us," one of them said, still gasping for breath. "And it was huge."

  Salandra emerged from the forest. "I see you've got everything under control," she said.

  "Watch out!" Indy called. "There's a big cat out there."

  "I think it's gone," she answered.

  "Good. We've got our hands full right here." Indy jabbed the barrel of the shotgun at the gut of the huaquero who'd aimed it at him. "All right. What did you do with the priest?"

  The man shook his head. "I don't know about no padre."

  "And I don't like your answer." Indy turned to the other two men. "Where is the priest?" He pointed the barrel between the eyes of the one who looked most frightened. "Who killed him?"