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Under the Andes

R >> Rex Stout >> Under the Andes




"That was my soul, and it is the first time it has ever escaped
me."

At the same instant we were startled by the sound of Harry's
voice in the darkness:

"Desiree! Where are you?"

I waited for her to answer, but she was silent, and I called out
to him our direction. A moment later his form appeared at a
distance, and soon he had joined us.

"How about it, old man?" he asked, bending over me.

Then he told us that he had found no water. He had explored two
sides of the cavern, one at a distance of half a mile or more,
and was crossing to find the third when he had called to us.

"But there is little use," he finished gloomily. "The place is
silent as the grave. If there were water we would hear it. I
can't even find an exit except the crevice that let us in."

Desiree's hand was still in mine.

"It may be--perhaps I can go with you," I suggested. But he
would not hear of it, and set out again alone in the opposite
direction to that which he had taken previously.

In a few minutes he returned, reporting no better success than
before. On that side, he said, the wall of the cavern was quite
close. There was no sign anywhere of water; but to the left there
were several narrow lanes leading at angles whose sides were
nearly parallel to each other, and some distance to the right
there was a broad and clear passage sloping downward directly
away from the cavern.

"Is the passage straight?" I asked, struck with a sudden idea.
"Could you see far within?"

"A hundred feet or so," was the answer. "Why? Shall we follow
it? Can you walk?"

"I think so," I answered. "At any rate, I must find some water
soon or quit the game. But that isn't why I asked. Perhaps it
explains the sudden disappearance of the Incas. They knew they
couldn't follow us through that narrow crevice; what if they have
made for the passage?"

Harry grumbled that we had enough trouble without trying to
borrow more.

We decided to wait a little longer before starting out from the
cavern; Harry helped me to my feet to give them a trial, and
though I was able to stand it was only by a tremendous effort and
exertion of the will.

"Not yet," I murmured between clenched teeth, and again Desiree
sat on the hard rock and supported my head and shoulders in her
arms, despite my earnest remonstrances. Harry stood before us,
leaning on his spear.

Soon he left us again, departing in the direction of the crevice
by which we had entered; I detected his uneasiness in the tone
with which he directed us to keep a lookout around in every
direction.

"We could move to the wall," I had suggested; but he shook his
head, saying that where we were we at least had room to turn.

When he had gone Desiree and I sat silent for many minutes. Then
I tried to rise, insisting that she must be exhausted with the
long strain she had undergone, but she denied it vehemently, and
refused to allow me to move.

"It is little enough," she said; and though I but half understood
her, I made no answer.

I myself was convinced that we were at last near the end. It was
certain that the Incas had merely delayed, not abandoned, the
pursuit, and our powers and means of resistance had been worn to
nothing.

Our curious apathy and half indifference spoke for itself; it was
as though we had at length recognized the hand of fate and seen
the futility of further struggle. For, weak and injured as I was,
I still had strength in me; it was a listlessness of the brain
and hopelessness of the heart that made me content to lie and
wait for whatever might come.

The state of my feelings toward Desiree were even then elusive;
they are more so now. I had told her I loved her; well, I had
told many women that. But Desiree had moved me; with her it was
not the same--that I felt. I had never so admired a woman, and
the thrill of that kiss is in me yet; I can recall it and tremble
under its power by merely closing my eyes.

Her warm hand, pressed tightly in my own, seemed to send an
electric communication to every nerve in my body and eased my
suffering and stilled my pain. That, I know, is not love; and
perhaps I was mistaken when I imagined that it was there.

"Are you asleep?" she asked presently, after I had lain perfectly
quiet for many minutes. Her voice was so low that it entered my
ear as the faintest breath.

"Hardly," I answered. "To tell the truth, I expect never to
sleep again--I suppose you understand me. I can't say why--I feel
it."

Desiree nodded.

"Do you remember, Paul, what I said that evening on the
mountain?" Then--I suppose my face must have betrayed my
thought--she added quickly: "Oh, I didn't mean that--other thing.
I said this mountain would be my grave, do you remember? You see,
I knew."

I started to reply, but was interrupted by Harry, calling to ask
where we were. I answered, and soon he had joined us and seated
himself beside Desiree on the ground.

"I found nothing," was all he said, wearily, and he lay back and
closed his eyes, resting his head on his hands.

The minutes passed slowly. Desiree and I talked in low tones;
Harry moved about uneasily on his hard bed, saying nothing.
Finally, despite Desiree's energetic protests, I rose to my knees
and insisted that she rest herself. We seemed none of us to be
scarcely aware of what we were doing; our movements had a curious
purposelessness about them that gave the thing an appearance of
unreality--I know not what; it comes to my memory as some
indistinct and haunting nightmare.

Suddenly, as I sat gazing dully into the semidarkness of the
cavern, I saw that which drove the apathy from my brain with a
sudden shock, at the same time paralyzing my senses. I strained
my eyes ahead; there could be no doubt of it; that black, slowly
moving line was a band of Incas creeping toward us silently, on
their knees, through the darkness. Glancing to either side I saw
that the line extended completely around us, to the right and
left.

The sight seemed to paralyze me. I tried to call to Harry--no
sound came from my eager lips. I tried to put out my hand to
rouse him and to pick up my spear; my arms remained motionless at
my side.

Desiree lay close beside me; I could not even turn my head to see
if she, too, saw, but kept my eyes, as though fascinated, on that
silent black line approaching through the darkness.

"Will they leap now--now--now?" I asked myself with every beat of
my pulse.

It could not be much longer--they were now so close that each
black, tense form was in clear outline not fifty feet away.



Chapter XXIII.

WE ARE TWO.


Whether I would have been able to rouse myself to action before
the shock of the assault was actually upon us, I shall never
know.

It was not fear that held me, for I felt none; I think that dimly
and half unconsciously I saw in that black line, silently
creeping upon us, the final and inexorable approach of the
remorseless fate that had pursued us ever since we had dashed
after Desiree into the cave of the devil, rendering our every
effort futile, our most desperate struggles the laughing-stock of
the gods.

I was not even conscious of danger. I sat as in a stupor.

But action came, though not from me, so suddenly that I scarcely
knew what had happened. There was a cry from Desiree. Harry
sprang to his feet. The Incas leaped forward.

I felt myself jerked violently from the ground, and a spear was
thrust into my hand. Harry's form flashed past me, shouting to me
to follow. Desiree was at his heels; but I saw her halt and turn
to me, and I, too, sprang forward.

Harry's spear whirled about his head, leaving a gap in the black
line that was now upon us. Through it we plunged. The Incas
turned and came at us from behind; one whose hands were upon
Desiree got my spear in his throat and sank to the ground.

"Cross to the left!" Harry yelled. He was fighting them off from
every direction at once.

I turned, calling to Desiree to follow, and dashed across the
cavern. We saw the wall just ahead, broken and rugged. Again
turning I called to Harry, but could not see him for the black
forms on every side, and I was starting to his rescue when I saw
him plunge toward us, cutting his way through the solid mass of
Incas as though they had been stalks of corn. He was not a man,
but a demon possessed.

"Go on," he shouted. "I'll make it!"

Then I turned and ran with Desiree to the wall. We followed it a
short distance before we reached one of the lanes of which Harry
had spoken; at its entrance he joined us, still bidding us to
leave him to cover our retreat.

Once within the narrow lane his task was easier. Boulders and
projecting rocks obstructed our progress, but they were even
greater obstacles to those who pursued us. Still they rushed
forward, only to be hurled back by the point of Harry's spear.
Once, turning, I saw him pick one of them up bodily and toss him
whirling through the air into the very faces of his comrades.

I had all I could do with Desiree and myself. Many times I
scrambled up the steep face of some boulder and, after pulling
her up safely after me, let her down again on the other side.
Then I returned to see that Harry got over safely, and often he
made it barely by inches, while flying spears struck the rock on
every side.

It is a wonder to me now that I was able even to stand, after my
experience on the spiral stairway in the column. The soles of my
feet and the palms of my hands were baked black as the Incas
themselves. Blisters covered my body from head to foot, swelling,
indescribably painful.

Every step I took made me clench my teeth to keep from sinking in
a faint to the ground; I expected always that the next would be
my last--but somehow I struggled onward. It was the thought of
Desiree, I think, that held me up, and Harry.

Suddenly a shout came from Harry that the Incas had abandoned the
pursuit. It struck me almost as a matter of indifference; nor was
I affected when almost immediately afterward he called that he
had been mistaken and that they had rushed forward with renewed
fury and in greater numbers.

"It is only a matter of time now," I said to Desiree, and she
nodded.

Still we went forward. The land had carried us straight away
from the cavern, without a turn. Its walls were the roughest I
had seen, and often a boulder which lay across our path presented
a serrated face that looked as though it had but just been broken
from the wall above. Still the stone was comparatively soft--time
had not yet worked its leveling finger on the surfaces that
surrounded us.

We were standing on one of these boulders when Harry came running
toward us.

"They're stopped," he cried gleefully, "at least for a little. A
piece of rock as big as a house gently slid from above onto their
precious heads. It may have blocked them off completely."

We hurried forward then; Harry helped Desiree, while I painfully
brought up the rear. At every few steps they were forced to halt
and wait for me, though I did my utmost to keep up with them.
Harry had taken my spear that I might have both hands to help me
over the rocks.

Climbing, sliding, jumping, we left the Incas behind; no sound
came from the rear. I began to think that they had really been
completely shut off, and several times opened my mouth to call to
Harry to ask him if it would not be safe to halt; for every
movement I made was torture. But each time I choked back the cry;
he thought it was necessary to go on and I followed.

This lasted I know not how long; I was staggering and reeling
forward like a drunken man, so little aware of what I was doing
that when Harry and Desiree finally stopped at the beginning of a
level, unbroken stretch in the lane, I stumbled directly against
them before I knew they had halted.

"Go on!" I gasped, struggling to my feet in a mania.

Harry stooped over to assist me and set me with my back resting
against the wall. Desiree supported herself near by, scarcely
able to stand.

"We can go no farther," said Harry. "If they come--"

As he spoke I became aware of a curious movement in the wall
opposite--a movement as of the wall itself. At first I thought it
a delusion produced by my disordered brain, but when I saw
Desiree's astonished gaze following mine, and heard Harry's cry
of wonder as he turned and saw it also, I knew the thing was
real.

A great portion of the wall, the entire side of the passage for a
length of a hundred feet or more, was sliding slowly downward.
Glancing above I saw a space of several feet where the rock had
departed from its bed. The only noise audible was a low, grating
sound like the slow grinding of a gigantic millstone.

None of us moved--if there were danger we would seem to have
welcomed it. Suddenly the great mass of rock appeared to halt in
its downward movement and hang as though suspended; then with a
sudden jerk it seemed to free itself, swaying ponderously toward
us; and the next moment it had fallen straight down into some
abyss below, thundering, tumbling, sliding with terrific
velocity.

There was a deafening roar under our feet, the ground rocked as
from an earthquake, and it seemed as though the wall against
which we stood was about to fall in upon us. Dust and fragments
of rock filled the air on every side, and one huge boulder,
detached from the roof above, came tumbling at our feet, missing
us by inches.

We were completely stunned by the cataclysm, but in a moment
Harry had recovered and run to the edge of the chasm opposite
thus suddenly formed. Desiree and I followed.

There was nothing to be seen save the blackness of space.
Immediately before us was an apparently bottomless abyss, black
and terrifying; the side descended straight down from our feet.
Looking across we could see dimly a wall some distance away,
smooth and with a faint whiteness. On either side of us other
walls extended to meet the farther wall, smooth and polished as
glass.

"The Incas didn't do that, I hope," said Harry, turning to me.

"Hardly," I answered; and in my absorbing interest in the
phenomenon before me I half forgot my pain.

I moved to the edge of one of the walls extending at right angles
to the passage, but there was little to be made of it. It was of
soft limestone, and most probably the portion that had
disappeared was granite, carried away by the force of its own
weight.

"We are like to be buried," I observed, returning to Harry and
Desiree. "Though for that matter, even that can hardly frighten
us now."

"For my part," said Harry, with a curious gravity beneath the
apparent lightness of his words, "I have always admired the death
of Porthos. Let it come, and welcome."

"Are we to go further?" put in Desiree.

Just as Harry opened his mouth to reply a more decisive answer
came from another source. The rock that had fallen, obstructing
the path of the Incas, must have left an opening that Harry had
missed; or they had removed it--what matter?

In some way they had forced a passage, for as Desiree spoke a
dozen spears whistled through the air past our heads and we
looked up to see a swarm of Incas climbing and tumbling down the
face of a boulder over which we had passed to reach our
resting-place.

I have said that we had halted in a level, unbroken stretch that
still led some distance ahead of us. At its farther end could be
seen a group of rocks and boulders completely choking the lane,
Beyond, other rocks arose to a still greater height--the way
appeared to be impassable.

But there was no time for deliberation or the weighing of
chances, and we turned and made for the pile of rocks, with the
Incas rushing after us.

There Desiree and I halted in despair, but with a great oath
Harry brushed us aside and leaped upon a rock higher than his
head with incredible agility. Then, lying flat on his face and
extending his arms downward over the edge, he pulled first
Desiree, then myself, up after him. The whole performance had
occupied a scant two seconds, and, waiting only to pick up the
three spears he had thrown up the sloping surface of the rock to
another yet higher and steeper.

"Why don't we hold them here?" I demanded. "They could never
come up that rock with us on top."

Harry looked at me.

"Spears," he said briefly; and, of course, he was right. They
would have picked us off like birds on a limb.

We scaled the second rock with extreme difficulty, Harry
assisting both Desiree and me; and as we stood upright on its top
I saw the Incas scrambling over the edge of the one below. Two or
three of them had already started to cross; many more were coming
up from behind; and one, as he made the top and arose to his
feet, braced himself on the sloping rock and raised a spear high
above his head.

At sight of him I started, crying to Harry and Desiree. They
turned.

"The king!" I shouted; and I saw a shudder of terror run over
Desiree's face as she, too, recognized the black form below. At
the same instant the spear darted forward from the hand of the
Child of the Sun, but it landed harmlessly against the rock
several feet away.

The next moment the Inca king had bounded across the rock toward
us, followed by a score of others.

I was minded to try my luck with his own weapon, but we had no
spears to waste, and Harry was dragging Desiree forward and
shouting to me to follow. I turned and ran after them, and just
as we let ourselves down into a narrow crevice below the Incas
appeared over the edge of the rock behind.

Somehow we scrambled forward, with the Incas at our heels. Sharp
corners of projecting rocks bruised our faces and bodies; once my
leg bent double under me as I fell from a ledge onto a boulder
below, and I thought it was broken; but Harry jerked me to my
feet and I struggled on.

Harry seemed possessed of the strength of ten men and the heart
of a thousand. He pulled Desiree and me up and over boulders and
rocks as though we had been feathers; the Lord knows how he got
there himself! Half of the time he carried Desiree; the other
half he supported me. His energy and exertions were titanic; even
in the desperate excitement of our retreat I found time to marvel
at it.

We did not gain an inch; our pursuers kept close behind us; but
we held our own. Now and then a stray spear came hurtling through
the air or struck the rock near us, but they were infrequent and
we were not hit.

One, flying past my head, stuck in a crevice of the rock and I
grasped the shaft to pull it out, but abandoned my effort when I
heard Harry shouting to me from the front to come to his aid.

He and Desiree were standing on the rim of a ledge that stood
high above the ground of the passage. At its foot began a level
stretch leading straight ahead as far as we could see.

"We must lift her down," Harry was saying.

He let himself over the ledge, hung by his hands, and dropped.
"All right!" he called from below; and I lay flat on the rock
while Desiree scrambled over the edge, holding to my hands. For a
moment I held her suspended in my outstretched arms; then, at a
word from Harry, I let her drop. Another moment and I was over
myself, knocking Harry to the ground and tumbling on top of him
as he stood beneath to break my fall.

By then the Incas had reached the top of the ledge above us, and
we turned and raced down the long stretch ahead. I was in front;
Harry came behind with Desiree.

Suddenly, as I ran, I felt a curious trembling of the ground
beneath my feet, similar to the vibrations of a bridge at the
passing of a heavy load.

Then the ground actually swayed beneath me; and, realizing the
danger, I sent a desperate shout to Harry over my shoulder and
bounded forward. He was at my side on the instant, with Desiree
in his arms.

The ground rocked beneath our feet like a ship in a storm; and,
just as I thought we were gone, my foot touched firm rock as I
passed a yawning crevice a foot wide under me.

One more leap to safety, and we turned just in time to see the
floor of the passage which we had traversed disappear into some
abyss beneath with a shattering roar.

We stood at the very edge of the chasm thus suddenly formed,
gazing at each other in silent wonder and awe.

"The beggars are stopped now," said Harry finally. "That break
in the game is ours."

Looking back across the chasm, we saw the Incas tumbling by twos
and threes over the boulder on the other side. As they saw the
yawning abyss that separated them from their prey they stopped
short and gazed across in profound astonishment.

Others came to join them, until there were several hundred of the
black, ugly forms huddled together on the opposite rim of the
chasm, a hundred feet away.

I ran over the group with a keen eye, seeking the figure of the
Inca king, and soon my search was successful. He stood a step in
front of the others, a little to the right. I pointed him out to
Harry and Desiree.

"It's up to him to walk right out again," said Harry.

Desiree shivered, and proceeded to send her last invitation to
the devil.

Turning suddenly, she grasped Harry's spear and tore it from his
hand. Before we realized her purpose, she stepped forward until
her foot rested on the very edge of the chasm, and had hurled the
spear across straight at the Inca king.

It missed him, but struck another Inca standing near full in the
breast. Quick as lightning the king turned, grasped the shaft of
the spear, and pulled it forth, and with his white teeth gleaming
in a snarl of furious hate, sent it whistling through the air
straight at Desiree.

Harry and I sprang forward with a shout of warning; Desiree stood
motionless as a statue. We grasped her frantically and pulled her
back, but too late.

She came, but only to fall lifeless into our arms with the spear
buried deep in her white throat.

We laid her on the ground and knelt beside her for a moment, then
Harry arose to his feet with a face white as death; and I uttered
a silent and vengeful prayer as I saw him level a spear at the
Inca king across the chasm. But it went wide of its mark,
striking the ground at his feet.

"There was another!" cried Harry, and soon he had found it where
it lay on the ground and sent it, too, hurtling across.

This time he missed by inches. The spear flew just past the
shoulder of the king and caught one who stood behind him full in
the face. The stricken savage threw his arms spasmodically above
his head, reeling forward against the king.

There was a startled movement along the black line; hands were
outstretched in a vain effort at rescue; a savage cry burst from
Harry's lips, and the next instant the king had toppled over the
edge of the chasm and fallen into the bottomless pit below.

Harry turned, quivering from head to foot.

"Little enough," he said between his teeth, and again he knelt
beside the body of Desiree and took her in his arms.

But her fate spoke eloquently of our own danger, and I roused him
to action. Together we picked up the form of our dead comrade and
carried it to the rear. I hesitated to pull forth the barbed head
of the spear, and instead broke off the shaft, leaving the point
buried in the soft throat, from which a crimson line extended
over the white shoulder.

A short distance ahead we came to a projecting boulder, and
behind that we gently laid her on the hard rock. Neither of us
had spoken a word. Harry's lips were locked tightly together; a
lump rose in my throat, choking all utterance and filling my eyes
with tears.

Harry knelt beside the white form and, gathering it gently in his
arms, held it against his breast. I stood at his side, gazing
down at him in mute sympathy and sorrow.

For a long minute there was silence--a most intense silence
throughout the cavern, during which the painful throbbing of my
heart was plainly audible; then Harry murmured, in a voice of the
utmost tenderness: "Desiree!" And again, "Desiree! Desiree!"
until I half expected the very strength and sweetness of his
emotion to bring our comrade back to life.

Suddenly, with a quick, impulsive movement, he raised his head to
glance at me.

"She loved you," he said; and though there was neither jealousy
nor anger in his voice, somehow I could not meet his gaze.

"She loved you," he repeated in a tone half of wonder. "And
you--you--"

I answered his eyes.

"She was yours," I said, with a touch of bitterness that
persuaded him of the truth. "All her beauty, all her loveliness,
all her charm, to be buried--Ah! God help us--"

My voice broke, and I knelt on the ground beside Harry and
pressed my lips to the white forehead and golden hair of what had
been Le Mire.

Thus we remained for a long time.

It was hard to believe that death had in reality taken possession
of the still form stretched as in repose before us. Her body,
still warm, seemed quivering with the instinct of life; but the
eyes were not the eyes of Desiree. I closed them, and arranged
the tangled mass of hair as well as possible over her shoulders.
As I did so the air, set in motion by my hand, caused some of the
golden strands to tremble gently across her lips; and Harry bent
forward with a painful eagerness, thinking that she had breathed.

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