Frank Richard - The Adventures of Captain Horn

When the rest of his party had gone inside, hoping to get their minds quiet enough to sleep, and the captain was preparing to follow them, Maka arose from the spot on the open plateau where the tired negroes had stretched themselves for the night, and said:

“Got something tell you alone. Come out here.”

When the two had gone to a spot a little distance from the cavern entrance, where the light of the moon, now nearly set, enabled objects to be seen with some distinctness, Maka took from inside his shirt a small piece of clothing. “Look here,” said he. “This belong to Davis.”

The captain took the garment in his hand. It was a waistcoat made of plaid cloth, yellow, green, and red, and most striking in pattern, and Captain Horn instantly recognized it as the waistcoat of Davis, the Englishman.

“He dead,” said Maka, simply.

The captain nodded. He had no doubt of it.

“Where did you find it?” he asked.

“Sticking on rock,” said the African. “Lots things down there. Some one place, some another place. Didn’t know other things, but know this. Davis’ waistcoat. No mistake that. Him wear it all time.”

“You are a good fellow, Maka,” said the captain, “not to speak of this before the ladies. Now go and sleep. There is no need of a guard to-night.”

The captain went inside, procured his gun, and seated himself outside, with his back against a rock. There he sat all night, without once closing his eyes. He was not afraid that anything would come to molest them, but it was just as well to have the gun. As for sleeping, that was impossible. He had heard and seen too much that day.

Captain Horn and his party sat down together the next morning on the plateau to drink their hot coffee and eat their biscuit and bacon, and it was plain that the two ladies, as well as the captain, had had little sleep the night before. Ralph declared that he had been awake ever so long, endeavoring to calculate how many cubic feet of gold there would be in that mound if it were filled with the precious metal. “But as I did not know how much a cubic foot of gold is worth,” said he, “and as we might find, after all, that there is only a layer of gold on top, and that all the rest is Incas’ bones, I gave it up.”

The captain was very grave — graver, Miss Markham thought, than the discovery of gold ought to make a man.

“We won’t worry ourselves with calculations,” said he. “As soon as I can get rid of those black fellows, we will go to see what is really in that tomb, or storehouse, or whatever it is. We will make a thorough investigation this time.”

When the men had finished eating, the captain sent them all down to look for driftwood. The stock of wood on the plateau was almost exhausted, and he was glad to think of some reasonable work which would take them away from the cavern.

As soon as they had gone, the captain rose to get the lantern, and called Ralph to accompany him to the mound.

When they were left alone, Edna said to Mrs. Cliff, “Let us go over there to that shady rock, where we can look out for a ship with Mr. Rynders in it, and let us talk about our neighbors in America. Let us try to forget, for a time, all about what the captain is going to investigate. If we keep on thinking and talking of it, our minds will not be in a fit condition to hear what he will have to tell us. It may all come to nothing, you know, and no matter what it comes to, let us keep quiet, and give our nerves a little rest.”

“That is excellent advice,” said Mrs. Cliff. But when they were comfortably seated in the shade, she said: “I have been thinking, Edna, that the possession of vast treasures did not weaken the minds of those Incas, I supposed, until yesterday, that the caverns here were intended for some sort of temple for religious ceremonies, and that the great face on the rock out here was an idol. But now I do not believe that. All openings into the cave must once have been closed up, but it would not do to hide the place so that no one could ever find it again, so they carved that great head on the rocks. Nobody, except those who had hid the treasure, would know what the face meant.”

Edna gave a little smile and sighed. “I see it is of no use to try to get that mound out of our minds,” she said.

“Out of our minds!” exclaimed Mrs. Cliff. “If one of the Rothschilds were to hand you a check for the whole of his fortune, would you expect to get that out of your mind?”

“Such a check,” said Edna, “would be a certain fortune. We have not heard yet what this is.”

“I think we are the two meekest and humblest people in the whole world!” exclaimed Mrs. Cliff, walking up and down the sand. “I don’t believe any other two persons would be content to wait here until somebody should come and tell them whether they were millionaires or not. But, of course, somebody must stay outside to keep those colored people from swarming into the cave when they come back.”

It was not long after this that Mrs. Cliff and Edna heard the sound of quickly advancing feet, and in a few moments they were joined by Ralph and the captain.

“Your faces shine like gold,” cried Edna. “What have you found?”

“Found!” cried Ralph. “Why, Edna, we’ve got — ”

“Be quiet, Ralph,” exclaimed Edna. “I want to hear what the captain has to say. Captain, what is in the mound?”

“We went to the mound,” said he, speaking very rapidly, “and when we got to the top and lifted off that stone lid — upon my soul, ladies, I believe there is gold enough in that thing to ballast a ship. It isn’t filled quite up to the top, and, of course, I could not find out how deep the gold goes down; but I worked a hole in it as far down as my arm would reach, and found nothing but gold bars like this.” Then, glancing around to see that none of the Africans were returning, he took from his pocket a yellow object about three inches in length and an inch in diameter, shaped like a rough prism, cast in a rudely constructed mortar or mould. “I brought away just one of them,” he said, “and then I shut down the lid, and we came away.”

“And is this gold?” exclaimed Edna, eagerly seizing the bar. “Are you sure of it, captain?”

“I am as sure of it as I am that I have a head on my shoulders,” said he, “although when I was diving down into that pile I was not quite sure of that. No one would ever put anything but gold in such a hiding-place. And then, anybody can see it is gold. Look here: I scraped that spot with my knife. I wanted to test it before I showed it to you. See how it shines! I could easily cut into it. I believe it is virgin gold, not hardened with any alloy.”

“And that mound full of it!” cried Mrs. Cliff.

“I can’t say about that,” said the captain. “But if the gold is no deeper than my arm went down into it, and all pure metal at that, why — bless my soul! — it would make anybody crazy to try to calculate how much it is worth.”

“Now, then,” exclaimed Mrs. Cliff, “whom does all this gold belong to? We have found it, but whose is it?”

“That is a point to be considered,” said the captain. “What is your opinion?”

“I have been thinking and thinking and thinking about it,” said Mrs. Cliff. “Of course, that would have been all wasted, though, if it had turned out to be nothing but brass, but then, I could not help it, and this is the conclusion I have come to: In the first place, it does not belong to the people who govern Peru now. They are descendants of the very Spaniards that the Incas hid their treasure from, and it would be a shame and a wickedness to let them have it. It would better stay there shut up for more centuries. Then, again, it would not be right to give it to the Indians, or whatever they call themselves, though they are descendants of the ancient inhabitants, for the people of Spanish blood would not let them keep it one minute, and they would get it, after all. And, besides, how could such treasures be properly divided among a race of wretched savages? It would be preposterous, even if they should be allowed to keep it. They would drink themselves to death, and it would bring nothing but misery upon them. The Incas, in their way, were good, civilized people, and it stands to reason that the treasure they hid away should go to other good, civilized people when the Incas had departed from the face of the earth. Think of the good that could be done with such wealth, should it fall into the proper hands! Think of the good to the poor people of Peru, with the right kind of mission work done among them! I tell you all that the responsibility of this discovery is as great as its value in dollars. What do you think about it, Edna?”