_ CHAPTER II. A NEW FACE IN CAMP
The morning after the departure of the boat, Captain Horn, in company
with the Englishman Davis, each armed with a gun, set out on a tour of
investigation, hoping to be able to ascend the rocky hills at the back of
the camp, and find some elevated point commanding a view over the ocean.
After a good deal of hard climbing they reached such a point, but the
captain found that the main object was really out of his reach. He could
now plainly see that a high rocky point to the southward, which stretched
some distance out to sea, would cut off all view of the approach of
rescuers coming from that direction, until they were within a mile or two
of his landing-place. Back from the sea the hills grew higher, until they
blended into the lofty stretches of the Andes, this being one of the few
points where the hilly country extends to the ocean.
The coast to the north curved a little oceanward, so that a much more
extended view could be had in that direction, but as far as he could see
by means of a little pocket-glass which the boy Ralph had lent him, the
captain could discover no signs of habitation, and in this direction the
land seemed to be a flat desert. When he returned to camp, about noon,
he had made up his mind that the proper thing to do was to make himself
and his companions as comfortable as possible and patiently await the
return of his mate with succor.
Captain Horn was very well satisfied with his present place of
encampment. Although rain is unknown in this western portion of Peru,
which is, therefore, in general desolate and barren, there are parts of
the country that are irrigated by streams which flow from the snow-capped
peaks of the Andes, and one of these fertile spots the captain seemed to
have happened upon. On the plateau there grew a few bushes, while the
face of the rock in places was entirely covered by hanging vines. This
fertility greatly puzzled Captain Horn, for nowhere was to be seen any
stream of water, or signs of there ever having been any. But they had
with them water enough to last for several days, and provisions for a
much longer time, and the captain felt little concern on this account.
As for lodgings, there were none excepting the small tent which he had
put up for the ladies, but a few nights in the open air in that dry
climate would not hurt the male portion of the party.
In the course of the afternoon, the two American sailors came to Captain
Horn and asked permission to go to look for game. The captain had small
hopes of their finding anything suitable for food, but feeling sure that
if they should be successful, every one would be glad of a little fresh
meat, he gave his permission, at the same time requesting the men to do
their best in the way of observation, if they should get up high enough
to survey the country, and discover some signs of habitation, if such
existed in that barren region. It would be a great relief to the captain
to feel that there was some spot of refuge to which, by land or water,
his party might make its way in case the water and provisions gave out
before the return of the mate.
As to the men who went off in the boat, the captain expected to see but a
few of them again. One or two might return with the mate, in such vessel
as he should obtain in which to come for them, but the most of them, if
they reached a seaport, would scatter, after the manner of seamen.
The two sailors departed, promising, if they could not bring back fish or
fowl, to return before dark, with a report of the lay of the land.
It was very well that Maka did not have to depend on these hunters for
the evening meal, for night came without them, and the next morning they
had not returned. The captain was very much troubled. The men must be
lost, or they had met with some accident. There could be no other reason
for their continued absence. They had each a gun, and plenty of powder
and shot, but they had taken only provisions enough for a single meal.
Davis offered to go up the hills to look for the missing men. He had
lived for some years in the bush in Australia, and he thought that
there was a good chance of his discovering their tracks. But the
captain shook his head.
"You are just as likely to get lost, or to fall over a rock, as anybody
else," he said, "and it is better to have two men lost than three. But
there is one thing that you can do. You can go down to the beach, and
make your way southward as far as possible. There you can find your way
back, and if you take a gun, and fire it every now and then, you may
attract the attention of Shirley and Burke, if they are on the hills
above, and perhaps they may even be able to see you as you walk along. If
they are alive, they will probably see or hear you, and fire in answer.
It is a very strange thing that we have not heard a shot from them."
Ralph begged to accompany the Englishman, for he was getting very
restless, and longed for a ramble and scramble. But neither the captain
nor his sister would consent to this, and Davis started off alone.
"If you can round the point down there," said the captain to him, "do it,
for you may see a town or houses not far away on the other side. But
don't take any risks. At all events, make your calculations so that you
will be back here before dark."
The captain and Ralph assisted the two ladies to a ledge of rock near the
camp from which they could watch the Englishman on his way. They saw him
reach the beach, and after going on a short distance he fired his gun,
after which he pressed forward, now and then stopping to fire again. Even
from their inconsiderable elevation they could see him until he must have
been more than a mile away, and he soon after vanished from their view.
As on the previous day darkness came without the two American sailors, so
now it came without the Englishman, and in the morning he had not
returned. Of course, every mind was filled with anxiety in regard to the
three sailors, but Captain Horn's soul was racked with apprehensions of
which he did not speak. The conviction forced itself upon him that the
men had been killed by wild beasts. He could imagine no other reason why
Davis should not have returned. He had been ordered not to leave the
beach, and, therefore, could not lose his way. He was a wary, careful
man, used to exploring rough country, and he was not likely to take any
chances of disabling himself by a fall while on such an expedition.
Although he knew that the great jaguar was found in Peru, as well as
the puma and black bear, the captain had not supposed it likely that
any of these creatures frequented the barren western slopes of the
mountains, but he now reflected that there were lions in the deserts of
Africa, and that the beasts of prey in South America might also be
found in its deserts.
A great responsibility now rested upon Captain Horn. He was the only man
left in camp who could be depended upon as a defender,--for Maka was
known to be a coward, and Ralph was only a boy,--and it was with a
shrinking of the heart that he asked himself what would be the
consequences if a couple of jaguars or other ferocious beasts were to
appear upon that unprotected plateau in the night, or even in the
daytime. He had two guns, but he was only one man. These thoughts were
not cheerful, but the captain's face showed no signs of alarm, or even
unusual anxiety, and, with a smile on his handsome brown countenance, he
bade the ladies good morning as if he were saluting them upon a
quarter-deck.
"I have been thinking all night about those three men," said Miss
Markham, "and I have imagined something which may have happened. Isn't
it possible that they may have discovered at a distance some inland
settlement which could not be seen by the party in the boat, and that
they thought it their duty to push their way to it, and so get
assistance for us? In that case, you know, they would probably be a long
time coming back."
"That is possible," said the captain, glad to hear a hopeful supposition,
but in his heart he had no faith in it whatever. If Davis had seen a
village, or even a house, he would have come back to report it, and if
the others had found human habitation, they would have had ample time to
return, either by land or by sea.
The restless Ralph, who had chafed a good deal because he had not been
allowed to leave the plateau in search of adventure, now found a vent for
his surplus energy, for the captain appointed him fire-maker. The camp
fuel was not abundant, consisting of nothing but some dead branches and
twigs from the few bushes in the neighborhood. These Ralph collected with
great energy, and Maka had nothing to complain of in regard to fuel for
his cooking.
Toward the end of that afternoon, Ralph prepared to make a fire for the
supper, and he determined to change the position of the fireplace and
bring it nearer the rocks, where he thought it would burn better. It did
burn better--so well, indeed, that some of the dry leaves of the vines
that there covered the face of the rocks took fire. Ralph watched with
interest the dry leaves blaze and the green ones splutter, and then he
thought it would be a pity to scorch those vines, which were among the
few green things about them, and he tried to put out the fire. But this
he could not do, and, when he called Maka, the negro was not able to
help him. The fire had worked its way back of the green vines, and seemed
to have found good fuel, for it was soon crackling away at a great rate,
attracting the rest of the party.
"Can't we put it out?" cried Miss Markham. "It is a pity to ruin those
beautiful vines."
The captain smiled and shook his head. "We cannot waste our valuable
water on that conflagration," said he. "There is probably a great mass
of dead vines behind the green outside. How it crackles and roars! That
dead stuff must be several feet thick. All we can do is to let it burn.
It cannot hurt us. It cannot reach your tent, for there are no vines
over there."
The fire continued to roar and blaze, and to leap up the face of the
rock.
"It is wonderful," said Mrs. Cliff, "to think how those vines must have
been growing and dying, and new ones growing and dying, year after year,
nobody knows how many ages."
"What is most wonderful to me," said the captain, "is that the vines ever
grew there at all, or that these bushes should be here. Nothing can grow
in this region, unless it is watered by a stream from the mountains, and
there is no stream here."
Miss Markham was about to offer a supposition to the effect that perhaps
the precipitous wall of rock which surrounded the little plateau, and
shielded it from the eastern sun, might have had a good effect upon the
vegetation, when suddenly Ralph, who had a ship's biscuit on the end of a
sharp stick, and was toasting it in the embers of a portion of the burnt
vines, sprang back with a shout.
"Look out!" he cried. "The whole thing's coming down!" And, sure enough,
in a moment a large portion of the vines, which had been clinging to the
rock, fell upon the ground in a burning mass. A cloud of smoke and dust
arose, and when it had cleared away the captain and his party saw upon
the perpendicular side of the rock, which was now revealed to them as if
a veil had been torn away from in front of it, an enormous face cut out
of the solid stone. _