In the tiger's lair

The exploits of Stanley and Ted in the great World War form no part of this story. It is enough to say that they saw extensive service on the Western Front and that they acquitted themselves in an entirely creditable manner.

The armistice was signed at last and the two, in common with thousands of others, were returned to their own country. They had attained the rank of first lieutenant. Now, their services being no longer urgently required, they tendered their resignations and received honorable discharges.

“I am beginning to feel as if I have had enough of a rest,” Ted said one night a few weeks afterward when Stanley dropped in at his home for one of his visits. They saw one another almost daily. “What do you say to making another attempt to get the treasure?”

“You know what I think about it,” Stanley replied. “If the folks had not been urging me to remain with them a while longer, I should have suggested starting before now. They cannot forget what we went through on our first visit to the Hidden Valley; but they know we are determined to return to it. They are not discouraging me at all; only trying to put it off as long as possible.”

“We are losing a lot of time. The sooner we go back to Peru and have it over with the better. Think of the tons of gold lying in the cave waiting for us to carry them away.”

“I know. How do your people feel about it? I suppose they are not eager to have you go?”

“The situation is the same with me as with you. But I think we should start without further delay. There are so many things to be done when we get back, and time flies.” Then, after a moment’s thought: “I have been looking up the sailing dates. There is a good steamer for Panama next Tuesday—that is, a week from to-day. It will get us to the isthmus just in time to connect with the Panela of the Peruvian Line for Mollendo. Can you be ready then, or is that too soon?”

“I could be ready to-morrow. Waiting a whole week, now that we have actually decided to go, will seem like a year!”

“And,” said Ted as Stanley was leaving, “we had better not take anything with us from here. We can get all the supplies and outfit we need in Cuzco.”

Arrived in Colon, they found the Panela scheduled to sail that same afternoon. There was barely sufficient time to transfer their baggage, comply with the customs formalities, and secure passage on the departing steamer.

Before long they had entered the muddy water of the canal, and soon after that the ship entered the locks and in an almost incredibly short time was raised to the level of Gatun Lake, with its vast expanse of murky water and its fringe of tree skeletons that stood like black monuments to mark the graveyard of the inundated forest. Darkness prevented the completion of the trip through the canal, so the ship was tied up for the night.

There was no moonlight, but the thousands of scintillating stars shed a soft radiance upon the torpid earth. The water was black and smooth as glass, save for the myriad points of reflected starlight. But in spite of the unruffled appearance of the surface the black depths were charged with life. One had only to drop some object overboard in order to excite to action the millions of jelly-fish that lurked below. When the water was agitated by the missile, no matter how lightly, it blazed with patches and circles of greenish phosphorescence, so that the surface seemed aflame with a weird, unearthly fire. And occasionally there was a streak of the same uncanny light as one of the larger inhabitants of the deep cut the surface in a burst of speed in pursuit of some of the lesser fry.

With the coming of daylight the Panela was lowered through the locks at the far end of the canal and headed for the open ocean.

“No wonder this is called the Pacific,” said Ted as they stood on deck looking over the broad expanse of dark-blue water. The surface was so smooth that it might have been a sheet of glass; into this the prow of the ship cut a furrow crested with hissing white foam. Overhead the man-o’-war birds described great circles on motionless wings; they were marvels of grace and endurance, spanning the limitless blue day after day without stopping to rest. In the distance a number of whales rolled lazily in the briny water and blew thin jets of spray high into the air.

“If I were not so eager to finish our job down there I should say that this is the only life. I could keep sailing on forever. I certainly intend to do my share of travelling if this venture proves successful,” Stanley said.

“If?” Ted queried in surprise. “You mean when the job is finished. There is no question in my mind but that we shall get the gold this time. We know exactly how to overcome the one little barrier that lies between us and the hidden millions.”

“You are right. When are we due to reach Mollendo?”

“Six days from now. Then three more days in which to get to Cuzco. Two or three days in which to gather our outfit together, and then for the trail. In a month from now, at the most, we shall be ferrying out the gold that has been concealed for so many centuries. The underground river will hum as we dash back and forth through it.”

“After that we shall be up against the hardest work of all; that is to get the gold out of the country and back home safely. But let’s not cross any bridges before we get to them. The future must take care of itself,” said Stanley.

“While we are so near to it, I wish we could take a peep into the Hidden Valley. Perhaps Huayna Capac, the Inca, is dead, and Quizquiz is king now. I am sorry for everybody in the valley if he is their ruler. The old king at least tried to be kind and generous, the best he knew how, but Quizquiz will be a tyrant in every sense of the word. He is conceited, arrogant, and cruel. I should hate to fall into his hands.”

“And I, too,” said Stanley. “But there is no chance. He would not dare enter Uti, where the gold is hidden, and we shall certainly not trespass in his kingdom beyond the great wall. So we can simply guess at what is taking place in the Hidden Valley, and I am content to let it go at that.”

Stanley spoke with conviction, but he had no way of knowing what the future had in store for him. Just as the past years had brought the momentous events due to the World War, so there had been events of importance in the Hidden Valley, also. If Ted and Stanley could in some manner have obtained an inkling of what had happened behind those silent and unscalable mountains that surrounded the retreat of the last of the Incas, they doubtless should have refrained from making another attempt to secure the fabulous wealth that this same barrier also protected. Firmly resolved though they were not to enter the Hidden Valley proper again, it was not impossible that circumstances beyond their control might take them into the very region they were so eager to shun. And then—the terrible reckoning, with the pitiless, triumphant, and all-powerful Quizquiz as their captor and judge.

They landed in Mollendo just in time to take the early afternoon train into the mountains, and night found them in the upland city of Arequipa. It required the greater part of another day to cover the distance to Puno, and on the morning after that the journey to Cuzco began.

As the train crept wearily over the high plateau and entered the outskirts of the city, Ted, who was gazing interestedly through the little window of their compartment, gave a cry of surprise.

“Things have certainly been happening here since we last saw this place,” he said. “Look!”

Stanley, too, peered through the window. A number of long, wide, wooden buildings had been erected along one side of a level field. There were also narrower and higher structures and a small cluster of tents. Men in uniform were drilling near the group of buildings; and a detachment of other soldiers was signalling with large white panels that were spread out on the ground.

“Ted,” he said suddenly, “that aviation-field has been put there for a purpose. It may mean that the war fever has spread even to these remote countries; or it may be only the beginning of a preparedness campaign. I can’t say why, but I feel in my bones that we are going to get mixed up in whatever it is before very long.”

“I hope not. We can’t afford to let anything sidetrack us from getting that gold. If we keep putting it off something may happen to prevent our getting it altogether.”

“But that is just what I am thinking,” Stanley protested. “Everything we do must be a step toward the big goal.”

“I don’t see the connection.”

“Well, then, let me tell you. It takes many days of walking over the most difficult trail to reach the underground river. And heaven only knows how hard it will be to carry the gold back up the mountainside. Now, in an airplane the distance cannot be very great, and instead of work it would be fun. Now do you see what I mean?”

“Stanley!” Ted’s face beamed. “Do you think we could arrange it?”

“There is nothing impossible if you do not want it to be. We are going to get into the treasure-ground by the air-route this time, even if we have to steal one of those planes to do it.”

Just then the train rolled into the station and Ted and Stanley gathered up their baggage and followed the crowd along the platform and out into the street.