The men got back into their canoe, which went on down the river, soon to be lost to sight in the gathering darkness.
'I don't like that little lot,' said Digger quietly, thumbing tobacco into his pipe as he watched them go. 'I don't know what they've been up to, but I'd say mischief of some sort. The real reason why they didn't want to stay the night here, I fancy, is because it's a bit too open.'
You mean—Indians ? ' queried Tommy. Possibly. More likely the Mexican authorities, which would account for them not wanting to call at Sac Xas.
I can think of no other reason. Mexico is all right, but naturally they take a dim view of trespassers.'
'They looked a phony lot to me,' growled Pompey.
'They were telling the truth about the gold,' rejoined Digger.
'Unfortunately, and I say un-fortunately because it may lead to trouble, they're looking for the same mine as we are.'
'How do you know ? '
'You heard him mention the name of the prospector who struck it rich.'
'Sure. Harwin.'
With slow deliberation Digger lit his pipe. Harwin was the name of the man I found—
and buried.'
There was a brief silence while this significant piece of information sank in.
It was broken by Pompey. But how could they have got wind of that ? '
The porters. Harwin told me his men had bolted and left him. One of them at least, perhaps all of them, must have got back to Belize. They talked.
Those two whites must have heard the whisper. That's why they're here.
And if I'm any good at guessing some of those blacks in the canoe were the very men who left Harwin in the lurch. They'd be brought along not only as paddlers, but as guides.'
Then how come they couldn't find the place ? ' Perhaps Sunny knows. I saw him talking to them.'
Sunny was standing by as if waiting to speak. Digger called him into the conference. '
Well,' he asked. 'What news ? '
Dey's lookin' for de gold mine, boss,' informed Sunny. Dat black trash ain't no use. Dey can't find de place. Dey stay so long lookin' de grub runs out. Dey say dey go home.
White boss says no, so dey try to steal grub on de Mexican side. Peoples gets hurt and dat means trouble. Dat's a bad lot, boss.'
Digger drew a deep breath. So that's it. It's worse than I thought. You can't get away with that sort of thing, even here. I only hope those two toughs go on down the river, or we may be involved. Well, there's nothing we can do about it tonight, so we might as well get some sleep. But I'm afraid it means mounting a guard on our stuff. I wouldn't trust those two as far as I could see 'em. They might come back. But let's have some supper and turn in.'
CHAPTER 4
ANOTHER VISITOR
THE night passed without alarm, everyone having taken a watch of two hours. Sitting in the darkness, alone, was again a new experience for Tommy, who, for the first half-hour, perspired as much from nervousness as from the sticky heat. The forest was full of sinister sounds, stealthy rustlings and sudden outcries. Soft splashings and gurglings came from the river, too, as the inky water rolled on to the sea. However, as nothing emerged his nerves relaxed ; but he breathed a sigh of relief when dawn put an end to his vigil.
Digger was early astir. Those fellows must have gone on down the river as I advised,' he said. 'I was thinking about them after I'd gone to roost.
I should have asked them exactly where the trouble occurred, because that
'II be a good place to keep clear of.'
We might have asked them their names,' said Batty, smearing jam on a biscuit.
I asked Sunny, thinking he might have got them from the crew ; but all they know is the names by which they call each other—Pedro and Louis. Pedro sounds Mexican. Sunny thinks Louis is a Guatemalan. But it doesn't matter now. I shall do my best to stay on British territory, but that may not be easy on the main river, let alone a tributary.'
'Shan't we know where we are ? ' asked Pompey, looking surprised. 'We've got a map, ain't we ? '
'Maps are one thing and the ground itself another,' answered Digger. 'As I believe I once told you, it isn't easy to say for certain which country you're in. The Hondo forms the boundary between Honduras and Mexico only for so far. It then turns south into Guatemala, but later swings north into Campeche, which is a province of Mexico, where it has its source.
That 'd be all right if there were signposts or fences ; but how can anyone put up frontier posts through the jungle ? The result is, while the frontiers are marked clearly enough on the map, when you get to them there's nothing to show where they are. All you find is jungle, jungle, jungle. Nobody knows where they are.'
'You mean, people don't know what country they're living in ? '
interposed Batty.
'That's a fact,' declared Digger. 'All these countries have been arguing about their frontiers for years. Once in a while they go to war over them. Don't ask me why. As if a few square miles of swamp or jungle could make any difference to anyone.'
'Nuts,' said Pompey. 'That's what they are. Nuts.'
'Well, I only hope our tributary stays in British territory. If it doesn't, we'd better pray there's no-one there to argue about it. But let's get moving. We should get there today. I have a feeling the sooner we're off the main stream the better.'
The launch was just casting off when Sunny reached over the side and fished in a small square of paper which must have been floating downstream with the current. He handed it to Digger. Digger stared at it.
Then, looking up, he muttered : I don't get this. Yes, by thunder, I do,'
he went on, a rising inflexion in his voice.
'What is it ? ' asked Tommy.
'The label off a tin of biscuits—the sort I gave those fellers last night.'
'How comes it floating down from upstream ? ' questioned Pompey, his eyes narrowing, for the answer was self-evident.
'They went downstream,' muttered Digger. 'We saw them go. But that was only for our benefit. They'd no intention of returning to the coast.
That's why they wanted the extra grub. They must have crept past our camp in the dark ; which means that they're now somewhere ahead of us.'
'I heard noises on the river
'began Tommy,
but Digger waved him to silence.
So did I. We all did, no doubt, so you've nothing to blame yourself for.
Those smart guys wouldn't make any noise. But they're not as smart as they think they are, or they wouldn't have chucked a biscuit can overboard.'
Could they be watching us ? ' queried Batty.
If they had a sniff of what we're after, they would.'
I don't see how they could know,' returned Digger. Unless,' he corrected himself, one of their crew was one of Harwin's men, and saw me up the tributary. He'd guess where I was going and tell his bosses. But guessing won't help us. The point is, they're in front of us, and it's as well we know it. Hello ! Now what's coming ? Hold hard a minute, Sunny.'
Through the quiet air had come the chug-chugchug of a motor launch. Now, round the next upstream bend, appeared the craft responsible. A white bow-wave indicated that it was travelling at speed.
Mexican flag,' announced Digger. We're on our own ground here, but we'd better hang on in case they want to speak to us.'
The boat came straight over. A dapper Mexican officer jumped ashore. His expression was significant.
Buenos dias, caballero,' greeted Digger civilly. Buenos dias. The officer looked about him as if puzzled by what he saw.
Can I do something for you, senor ?' questioned Digger.
The officer considered him. Have you been up the river ? ' he inquired, speaking of course in Spanish.
No. But we are going up.'
Are you English ? '
Yes.'
Have you seen a canoe, with two white men and a black crew, go past ? '
Yes. They came here last night asking for food. They went on down, but I have reason
to think they went up again during the night.'
Are you associated with these men ? '
Very definitely not.' Digger showed the label and explained what it implied.
Gracias, senor.' The officer's official manner softened to one more friendly. These men have been in Mexico and caused much trouble. They stole things from the camp of an American expedition which has a permit to dig.'
So I understand. My servant spoke to the crew, and they told him.'
'What I do not understand is this,' went on the Mexican. 'We have come down the river.
If the canoe is above you why did we not see it.'
'I would say these men heard your engine and went into hiding until you passed. The trouble with engines is they make a noise.'
True. May I ask where you gentlemen are going ? '
We are really turistas on a pleasure trip. We shall stay on British soil.
If we leave it it will be by mistake, and that, as you know, is easily possible. In that case I hope you will be lenient with us. Should we wish to land in Mexico we shall of course apply for permission to do so at the nearest point where that is possible.'
Gracias, senor. Adios.' The officer returned to his boat, which, after turning, tore off again upstream.
He was all right,' averred Tommy.
Most people are all right if you treat them right,' asserted Digger.
These people who are for ever making complaints about ill treatment abroad usually have only themselves to blame. It's no use throwing your weight about when you're in the wrong. It doesn't get you anywhere. I've always found the Mexican authorities polite, if a bit particular about whom they allow to land.'
Why did you say we were tourists ? ' asked Tommy.
So we are, really. I mean, we're here as much for the fun of it as for money. Mexico, like most countries today, is only too glad to have the right sort of tourists bringing their money in. But let's get away. I reckoned on an early start. Instead, we're making a late one.'
They went on board and the Sprite continued up the river, which now began to narrow with every passing mile ; and while they kept a sharp look-out for the Mexican frontier patrol launch, and the canoe for which it was searching, they saw neither. About noon Digger pointed to the mouldering remains of an abandoned chiclero hut on the bank, and said he had camped there on his last trip. It was a landmark that told him they had not much farther to go.
In the event this did not appear to be so, for three o'clock came and there was still no sign of the opening for which they were seeking.
Digger cut the motor and allowed the boat to drift. We must have overshot it,' he announced.
How could we do that ? ' asked Pompey.
I don't know ; but I've never seen this part of the river before. We shall want every drop of fuel we have so I see no point in going on.
We'll go back.' So saying Digger turned the boat, and with only enough power to keep it under control headed downstream.
It took them some time to find the tributary, the reason being that Nature had done its best to hide it. To make a rather long story short it was eventually discovered that a great tree, dragging with it others to which it was fastened by lianas, had fallen across the opening. High water had hung all sorts of rubbish on the branches and the lianas that festooned them, with the result that the entrance was blocked. The deception was made complete by living plants that had taken root on the dead tree. As Digger pointed out, it was a good example of the sort of thing that could happen to confound the explorer, particularly as, if the barrier was not burst by a spate, the river that lay behind it would have to find another exit.
It took them an hour to cut a way through it, during which time they were stung and bitten by all manner of insects. The work had to be done carefully to prevent the gap being too conspicuous to others.
'I see what you mean about the bugs,' remarked Tommy ruefully, as he applied lotion to his smarting skin while the Sprite nosed its way up the tributary. He also remembered Digger's remark about vanishing in a cathedral, for the water was now only about thirty yards wide, and with the
trees interlacing their branches overhead they moved through a green gloomy world. He fell silent, subdued by the immensity of it.
'We shan't get far up here in this craft, if I know anything,' observed Pompey, as the Sprite steered a sinuous course between fallen trees and the great flat plates of water-lily leaves.
'If we can get to my old camping ground, where I buried Harwin, we shall be doing all right,' stated Digger.
This they did, after a good deal of hot hard work, sometimes having to cut a passage through water lilies and other weeds which, stretching from bank to bank, barred their progress. More than once Pompey and Sunny had to free the propeller of stuff that had fouled it.
They arrived at their immediate objective, Digger's old camp, as the green light that filtered through the distant tree-tops was turning grey.
It was not much of a place, being no more than a few square yards of ground that had been levelled by the fall of a big tree that had since rotted away. The secondary growth that covered this had been cleared by Digger on the occasion of his previous visit, but a fresh lot had sprung up, and this would have to be cleared before camp could be made.
Digger pushed his way through a tangle of ferns and young palms to the fringe of the frowning
forest and pointed to a rough wooden cross.
That's where poor Harwin's gold hunting ended,'
he said sombrely.
He must have been a fool to tackle a job like that on his own,' remarked Batty.
That's what most people would say,' returned Digger pensively. They'd say it because he failed. Had he been successful it would have been a different matter. He would then have been a brave intrepid explorer. The world passes judgment not on what a man is, but on his success or failure. Give me a man who has the courage of his convictions. Harwin was one. If he was a fool then so was Mungo Park, setting off to walk three thousand miles across Africa, when it really was the Dark Continent, in a top hat and frock coat, his Bible in his pocket and an umbrella under his arm. Such men have scattered their bones all over the world, but believe you me, they made their mark. Harwin has made his mark here. Because of him we're here. Because of us others will come. That's how it goes. But never mind philosophy. It's time we were practical.'
Darkness fell before they could finish clearing the site, so Digger said the best thing they could do was sleep on board the launch and finish the job in the morning.
'This will be our base camp,' he announced. 'We couldn't get much farther in the launch anyway, so from here we shall probably go on in the canoe.
I suggest that tomorrow we spend the day here. We could do with a rest and a tidy up. Moreover, it might be a good thing to wait awhile to make sure we haven't been followed.'
This was agreed.
With the fall of night there fell the hush which in the wilds accompanies the departure of the sun, as if all creatures had been waiting and watching for the event.
As they sat on deck having their supper, with fireflies flickering round the trees, Tommy felt he was now really in one of those forests of which he had read so much but never expected to see.
Digger raised a hand. Listen,' he requested.
From somewhere a long way off came a low unbroken rumble to add a final touch of mystery to the scene.
'That's water,' said Digger. 'Must be the falls Harwin told me about. We should soon be seeing them.'
CHAPTER 5
A MEMORABLE CLIMB
THE next day was to be one which Tommy was to remember, although he had no reason to suspect it as he helped with the final work of establishing the base camp, which really meant no more than clearing the site and putting up the tent. This did not take long, and Digger then began equipping the canoe with such things as food and tools, and anything else that might be required for the continuation of the voyage upstream.
Tommy, with nothing in
particular to do, wandered about, finding plenty to interest him in the vicinity of the camp.
'Don't you go far away,' warned Digger.
Tommy had no intention of going far, for he still regarded the forest with respect. But as so often happens, finding nothing to cause alarm he did go a little farther than he intended. There was always something a little farther on to invite investigation—a fantastic growth of fungus, a strange plant or insect. He may have gone a hundred yards, at which distance he was still within earshot of the camp,, so he felt quite safe.
He was about to turn back when he saw lying on the ground a small object of brilliant blue. He picked it up. It was a flower petal, thick and waxy. Instantly it recalled what Digger had said about a blue rose. He raised the petal to his nose but could discern no perfume. From where had it come ? Thinking of the sensation it would cause if he returned to camp with a complete flower he looked about for the plant ; but there was no sign of it. This gave him a qualm, for he remembered the circumstances in which Digger had seen the flower. Had Indians passed that way ? Were they being watched ? The petal was quite fresh.
The answer dropped from the sky. Another petal fluttered down to drop almost at his feet. He turned his eyes upward. He could see no flowers, blue or otherwise, but he could hear monkeys quarrelling so it required no great effort of the imagination to surmise what was happening. They were among the flowers. That, obviously, was the answer.
Digger had often said that they would find few flowers at ground level.
Everything strove to reach the sunlight, and it was at tree-top level that gardens were to be found.
Tommy now made his first ill-advised move, although, to be sure, in his anxiety to make a discovery, and at the same time please Digger, it was a natural one. He may not have realised how high the trees were, for the interlacing branches, on which dead stuff had fallen, prevented him from following the trunks to their limit, but he knew he was in for a strenuous climb because the lowest branches were a good fifty feet above
his head. This did not worry him, for there were plenty of lianas to enable him to reach them.
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