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CHAPTER. PAGE.

THE SECRET OF THE CORDILLERAS.

Physically the two men were in marked contrast. It would have puzzled you to say whether or no the American had reached his thirtieth birthday. He was rather above the medium height, neither light nor dark, and of well-built, athletic frame. Few would have called him handsome, but his face combined strength, intelligence, and refinement, with a touch of something which at first you might have described as cynicism or melancholy. The Scotchman had evidently been a typical representative of his race. The large-boned, sturdy, close-knit body was well-preserved after fifty years spent, many of them, under suns less kind than those of his native moors and mountains. But the sandy complexion and almost flaxen hair had given place to a grizzled head and that peculiar deep-tanned, almost leathery skin which is always a record of whole chapters of adventure. The left cheek and tip of the left ear bore an index to some special record of violence. A furrow in the skin just over the high cheek-bone and a bit missing from the top of the ear immediately back of it seemed to mark the course of a bullet that had failed by the smallest margin in the accomplishment of a deadly mission.

The young man's close inquiries about Buenos Ayres led at length to some explanation of his mission there and the causes of it. He had suddenly found himself a month before face to face with the necessity for earning his living. The silver panic in America in the summer had swept away all but a few thousands of a comfortable fortune, which had enabled him to indulge a too enervating love of ease. His indulgences had not been vicious, they were intellectual rather than physical, and he had strength of character enough after the first disappointment of loss to welcome the coming struggle. He had been in London when the blow fell. His first determination was to return to New York and undertake the practice of law. He had prepared himself for admission to the bar after leaving college, but the sudden death of his father deprived him of his last family tie and led him to postpone active work at his profession. He went abroad to be gone a few months and his absence had lengthened into three years, when the disaster to his property compelled him to rouse his dormant talents to action.

When the necessity was upon him his energy was unbounded. He dreaded the dull days that would probably come before he could secure any opportunity for an active display of his powers. Besides he was not particularly in love with his profession. His sudden afflux of energy tempted him to challenge fortune in some more desperate struggle. The trip to Argentina, however, was not an unreasoning whim. Two or three of his London friends had suffered severely by the financial misfortunes of the Argentine Republic in 1892-93. They had been informed by agents in Buenos Ayres that the prevailing depression offered tempting opportunities for the investment of fresh enterprise and capital in several directions, notably in mines, real estate, and manufacturing. Brent had decided to make a trip for investigation, partly on his own account and partly on the assurance of his friends that they would join him financially in any promising enterprise.

These plain facts about his recent life and prospects Brent made known to his companion while they sat sheltered from the already tropical sun under the deck-awning one hot afternoon. The Scotchman was a sympathetic listener. It was, indeed, his genuine and apparent interest which induced the narration of most of the points in the simple biography. He did not refuse confidence in return, but what little he said about himself was in such general terms that Brent felt that it was modesty as well as natural reticence which withheld the details of a most adventurous career. He had evidently taken a strong fancy to the younger man and he discussed with greatest interest the chances of success in his search for fortune amid the many difficulties then existing in the struggling republic. He was silent, however, about his own immediate plans and about the nature of the interests which were occupying him. His offers of assistance to his new friend in the strange city to which he was going were coupled with the announcement that he should remain only a few days in Buenos Ayres, because business called him further south immediately.

The heat of the tropics was unrelieved even by one of the sudden storms which often break the monotony of the long southern voyage. Those who hoped for something out of the ordinary to make the trip memorable had begun to content themselves with anticipations of early arrival in port, when they were informed that the steamer had already entered the waters of the Rio de la Plata. No land was in sight. The sea was apparently as boundless as it had been for three weeks past. Most of the passengers thought it was a joke of the steward. There was only one river in the world, the Amazon, into whose mouth one could sail without sighting land--so, at least, they had read in their geographies. They were wrong, though, as they found when they applied to the first officer for information and had looked the matter up on the large map in the saloon. Buenos Ayres was still more than one hundred miles distant and they would see no land during the remaining two hours of daylight.

But an experience much more exciting than the first sight of land was vouchsafed them. A white line upon the sea appeared suddenly on the port bow away off to the southwest. It was seen from the bridge first and two or three quick orders set sailors and stewards flying in their hasty execution. Awnings were taken down in a trice, passengers were driven from their comfortable lounging chairs on deck, everything movable was taken away or made fast. To most of the passengers the sudden excitement was inexplicable and alarming.

It had been a trying hour below. Neptune's transformation was full of terror for the passengers. His anger under the sudden assault of the winds seemed directed against those who had complained of his monotonous tranquillity. The wise ones among the ship's company acted on the advice of the stewards and sought their berths at the beginning of the outbreak. Those whose curiosity to witness the fury of the sea kept them upon their feet were glad to seek a safer anchorage before the storm reached its height. Fraser and Brent were among these latter. Both were fairly good sailors and nature's outburst of passion was a sublime spectacle which they were loth to leave. But they had no choice. The pitching of the ship became wilder and more erratic every moment. It was impossible to stand upright at a port-hole to watch the chaos of wind and water without. They did not abandon the attempt until two or three sudden lurches had thrown them into violent contact with tables, chairs, and other fixed objects.

They started at last to go to their staterooms below, but locomotion by this time was a dangerous experiment. They steered a zigzag course to the staircase, which they did not reach without several collisions, and Brent began to descend. He clung to the reeling railing and had gone down half the steps, when there was a cry and a blow from behind. He was wrenched from his hold and in a moment both men were pitched headlong to the deck below. A great lurch of the ship added violence to the fall, and they lay for a moment almost senseless upon the rubber mat at the bottom of the staircase.

"Are ye hurt, lad?" said the Scotchman, finding voice presently and trying to rise. He sank back again with an exclamation of pain, saying, "A broken leg, I'm afraid."

Brent sat up rather dazed. "I don't know," he began, trying to raise his voice above the roar of the storm and the creaking of the ship's timbers. "My arm is hurt, I think. Let me help you." But the movement to aid his friend gave him a twinge that made him desist. They called for aid, but when a steward managed with some difficulty to reach them he could do little.

"Lie flat on your backs till the worst of this is over. It won't last much longer," was his advice. It was the only thing to do, though every motion of the ship was full of suffering, especially for Fraser.

The wind subsided almost as suddenly as it had risen. The doctor was summoned as soon as the ship became steadier. He found, as the Scotchman had feared, a broken leg and in Brent's case a broken fore-arm, besides a few trifling bruises. The painful experience of transfer to his stateroom in the still restless ship and the setting of the fractured limb did not seem a very dreadful matter to the hardy Scotchman. But he was much worried over the consequences of his accident.

"I can't abide this bad luck," he said anxiously to Brent, who made light of his own hurts and visited his friend after the doctor had finished his work. "This means six weeks on my back and I can't stand it. I've engagements that must be kept. It means all the difference between riches and poverty," and the grizzled head shook in such exasperation of helpless revolt against fate that Brent did his best to relieve his bitterness of spirit.

"Oh, not so bad as that, I hope," he responded cheerfully. "What you cannot do yourself, I can do under your direction. We are going to the same place. I have nothing pressing to require my attention and shall be delighted to see you out of this mishap. You just make a business of mending that broken leg and the other business will be taken care of all right. You shall tell me about it to-morrow and then we'll see. Get a good night's rest now."

"You're the right sort, lad, and I'll trust you," said the other gratefully, gripping Brent's uninjured hand. "Perhaps you can help me, and you won't suffer for it if you do. I'll think it over and we'll have a good talk to-morrow."

Brent readily assented and they enjoyed a very good but very awkward meal by the Scotchman's bedside. They became quite merry over their respective infirmities. Brent with one arm in a sling was even more helpless than Fraser upon his back but with both hands free. They had a jovial hour over the repast before approaching serious subjects. When the waiter had been finally dismissed, the Scotchman dropped his gay mood.

"I like you, lad," he remarked suddenly, after looking rather quizzically from under his heavy brows at his companion for some moments. "And because I like you and because I'm certain you'll stick to a friend through thick and thin, I'm going to ask you to join me in an adventure that may make us both richer than anybody in all this country--or in any other maybe."

"Have you found a new El Dorado?" asked Brent half banteringly, but a good deal impressed nevertheless by the other's manner and words.

"Not that exactly, but I know a man who has or who has known about it for years and has never used his knowledge till now. I have some of the products of his secret in that box over there," answered the Scotchman pointing to the smaller of his trunks on the other side of the room. "I took something like a hundredweight of clean virgin gold to the Bank of England bullion-room a couple of months ago and it was so pure they allowed me weight for weight in new sovereigns for it."

"And is there much more where that came from?" asked the now thoroughly interested American.

"I solemnly believe, lad, that there are millions more waiting to be carried away," said the grizzled old man with grim emphasis, half raising himself in his earnestness and watching the effect of his words upon his companion.

Brent stared at the crippled figure before him in half stupefied amazement. There was such a convincing sincerity in the bearing of the old Scotchman that the young man could not receive his astonishing statement with any incredulity. So it was with a full conviction of the other's truthfulness that he finally found words to say:

"Well said, my lad, and I know you mean it," replied the old man warmly, "but I don't intend to make you a present of this gold. I haven't it to give you. I don't even know where it is, and there's many a difficulty and probably danger before we shall see it. What I propose is that you join me in the enterprise of securing it. I grant I should not have made the offer but for that confounded tumble," pointing to his plaster leg, "but now I am compelled to seek assistance or to forfeit all chance of ever getting any of the treasure. So I invite you to share with me a rough experience of several weeks, perhaps months, and the much or little that may come of it."

"That is what I came here hoping for," responded Brent heartily, "and I would have undertaken it under much smaller temptation than you offer. Your proposition is most generous and flattering in spite of your modest way of putting it."

"Wait till you hear the particulars before you commit yourself," interrupted Fraser settling back among his pillows. "I'll spin you a little yarn. It's not long and I don't think you'll find it dull."

"Go on; and don't cut it short," assented Brent keenly interested.

"You know that I've knocked about the world a good deal and among all sorts of people," began the old man deliberately. "Somehow I have spent nearly all of my life in new countries. Thirty years ago I went to California. I was for a long time in Australia, and for the last eight years I have been in the southern countries of South America. I have tried mining, ranching, fruit farming, cattle raising, made and lost small fortunes at each, and on the whole have enjoyed life. About eighteen months ago, I visited the small colonies along the Argentine coast well down into Patagonian latitudes. I stopped finally at a little settlement near the mouth of the Rio Negro or Black River. There were strong indications there of mineral wealth. Then, too, the climate was agreeable, game was abundant, and I thought I might do a little profitable trading with the Indians. I had taken with me from Buenos Ayres quite a collection of small things in order to make the trip profitable if possible.

"I suppose you have heard the usual stories about the native Patagonians--that they are all giants and terribly ferocious and that they kill all foreigners who try to intrude into their country for fear they will discover the fabulous treasures that the Indians have been guarding for centuries. Well, those yarns are all bosh. I have traded with the Indians, picked up some of their lingo, hunted with them, and visited some of their villages. They are much like other primitive races, more intelligent in some respects, better made physically but not giants, and there are no buried cities or ancient temples filled with gold for them to guard. They have some admirable qualities not ruined yet by civilization, but they will not survive long after they become better acquainted with the trader and the whisky barrel.

"It's a wonderful country, lad, that the Tehuelches live in. That's the name of the general tribe of natives in all the region south of the Rio Negro. There isn't a rougher, more inhospitable coast-line on all the footstool than the thousand miles or so from Rio Negro to Santa Cruz. The Indians themselves say it would take one of them at least two years to follow the coast by land from one point to the other. But there's a fine country inland, back of nature's barricade. Never mind about that now; you'll see it for yourself. I spent more than six months previous to last May in and around the little settlement at the mouth of the Rio Negro. I cultivated the natives from the first and managed to get on good terms with some of them. I made them small presents, traded with them, and taught them some new points in hunting and fishing. I prospected a good deal and became convinced that there was valuable mineral wealth in the rocky districts near the coast. I could do very little, however, toward testing this point with my primitive appliances, though I did manage to collect a few ounces of free gold in the course of several weeks' search. I found that the Indians were familiar with the metal, but they were absolutely close-mouthed on the subject. All my attempts to gain information about gold deposits served only to make them suspicious and silent.

"Most of the Indians I met belonged to a division or sub-tribe known as the Caillitchets, or non-speakers. For many years they have been morose and almost dumb. The story is that three or four of their chiefs, or caciques, whom they believed to be immortal and invulnerable were killed in battle three or four generations ago. Ever since the entire tribe has been gloomy, indifferent, and given up to a sort of savage cynicism. They used to bring gold-dust to the occasional traders who touched at points along the coast, but the yellow metal excited such evidences of cupidity in the white men that the Indians apparently became afraid it would tempt an invasion of their domicile. At all events they stopped all barter, having nothing else of value to offer in exchange for traders' goods. There are some interesting stories among the settlers at Rio Negro about those days. The same thing is said about these Indians that is told about the natives of Ecuador, that they brought quantities of gold-dust to the traders, made their bargains, and then threw into the river all they had remaining of the precious metal. Two or three small expeditions at one time or another about thirty years ago attempted to follow the Indians back into the country, but none of the adventurers were ever heard of again.

"They are a tamer people now. A white man who takes care to treat them well is comparatively safe among them. They are not treacherous like their North American brethren and I have spent weeks with them without meeting any suggestion of hostility.

"I made especial effort to gain the confidence of their principal cacique, a fine old warrior whom they call Casimiro. He is a wonderful old man, more than ninety years old he says, and I believe him. Centenarians are by no means rare among these people and I met one old fellow who claims more than one hundred and twenty birthdays. Casimiro is remarkably intelligent, remarkably broad in his ideas, for a savage. I became quite attached to him, hunted and fished with him, and we had many long talks together. He has picked up a good deal of Spanish, and he taught me enough of his language to enable me to get along very well with the others of the tribe. He took very deeply to heart the decadence of his people. In all Patagonia now there are not above twenty-five thousand of the native tribesmen remaining, while a century ago their numbers were probably almost ten times as great. Casimiro lamented the growth of the white colonies, denounced indiscriminately the traders and the missionaries who had come among his people, and predicted gloomily the speedy extinction of his race. I sympathized with him and tried to convince him that there was good as well as bad in the civilization which he denounced.

"Of course I went to his assistance. It was a matter of great difficulty to reach him. There was danger of starting fresh slides which would sweep us both away and it was not easy to get a footing in the insecure earth. Two or three times I slipped a few feet, but by digging toes and fingers into the hillside I checked myself with no worse damage than a few scratches. The old Indian was badly shaken and bruised but he seemed to have no bones broken. I got him into a more comfortable position on the rock and in a few minutes his strength came back, so that with a little help from me he was finally able to scramble up the steep slope to an easier angle where we could stand on our feet again and make our way to sound earth.

"Well, the old man persisted in making a hero of me for my part in the incident and declared I had saved his life. Two or three days later, he came to the settlement and invited me to go with him to one of the principal native villages where he declared he wished to 'make a big talk' with me and intrust to me a great secret. I made up my mind, principally on account of his solemn manner, that he really had something more important on hand than a native celebration of his deliverance from the landslide and so I decided to go with him. It was nearly a week's journey on foot and horseback to the west. When I arrived, I was invited to attend a council of four caciques, Waki, Orkeke, Cuastro, and Casimiro. They had met, the old chief explained to me, to consider a great difficulty and peril which threatened the tribe. They needed a white man's advice and assistance. He had in his intercourse with me for several weeks been testing my knowledge, my judgment, and my good faith. The adventure of the avalanche had completed my establishment in his confidence. I did not feel particularly complimented by this expression of their esteem until they had described their problem. Then you will readily believe, I was dumfounded.

"Casimiro as spokesman told the story. There existed, he said, at a secret spot in a spur of the Cordilleras within the tribe's domain a vast store of native gold. 'How much?' I inquired in astonishment. 'More, much more, than a thousand mules could carry,' the chief declared solemnly. 'But you mean ore, rock or sand with specks of gold in it,' I said to him in Spanish, thinking I had misunderstood. 'No,' he replied, and going to a corner of the hut in which we were sitting, he produced presently a small bag of skin. He opened it and poured upon the floor in front of me a heap of yellow dust and nuggets--the purest virgin gold I had ever seen. 'All like that,' the old man remarked laconically. I was too amazed to speak. I put out my hand and took up a handful from the shining pile. There was no doubt about it. It was perfectly genuine--worth really four sovereigns an ounce, every speck of it. Then I looked from one to another of the four chiefs. They were watching me stoically.

"'What do you want me to do?' I asked finally.

"'Take the gold away from our country,' was Casimiro's answer; whereat my surprise was so great that I must have shown signs of approaching idiocy. The four chiefs talked rapidly for a few moments in their own tongue, but I was too dazed to try to understand what they said. Involuntarily I was calculating roughly the amount of the treasure they had described. A mule-load I knew was about two hundredweight. Could there be two hundred thousand pounds, equivalent to twelve hundred thousand pounds sterling, or sixty millions of your American dollars, in this Patagonian treasure-bed? Presently Casimiro explained himself more clearly. What he said amounted to this:

"'My people have long known of this gold which you white men love, fight for, suffer for, and die for. It is of no use to my people. It neither feeds them nor clothes them. The traders tell us they will give us food and clothing and much whisky for it. We know better. If they discover we have it, they will come with many soldiers and seize our country and drive us out and kill us. The white man knows no mercy in seeking gold. We have tried to cover it up and keep it secret. We fear we have been betrayed. Two or three times in recent moons white men have penetrated near to its hiding-place. The first seeker met his death, the second likewise. But more are coming. Our people are in peril. We must save them. We love our country, we love our simple life. We want none of your civilization, none of its cruelties, its vices, its death. With this gold tempting the white multitude, we shall become as chaff before the wind in front of you. So we say, Take the gold. We have nothing else to excite your cupidity, take it and let us live in peace.'

"I was fairly humiliated, lad, before that grand old savage. His words were simple; they were not spoken in anger. Yet he stood there melancholy, powerless before a relentless fate, looking fearlessly into a future full of peril for his people. There was something sublime in the dignity of the old Patagonian that I had never seen in any other man and for a moment I felt almost like going down in the dust before him. He came back presently to his usual mood and noticing, I suppose, my shamefacedness he assured me I was by no means included in the denunciation into which the contemplation of his people's wrongs had led him. A renegade member of the tribe, it appeared, was held responsible for the betrayal of the secret. They asked me if I thought they had determined upon the right course to pursue. I told them they would be foolish to let such a vast treasure go without providing for certain lasting benefits to themselves in return. They might easily make themselves free of the traders, and secure all necessary annual supplies including harmless luxuries, besides providing for the practical exclusion of the white man's liquor, which was already becoming a grave evil among them.

"They all seemed to think the suggestion a good one. When they had discussed it for a little while among themselves, Casimiro finally made me this proposition: His brother chiefs, he said, wished to make a test of my good faith. They would deliver into my hands at the Rio Negro settlement a small mule-load of gold. This I was to take to my own country and spend on behalf of the tribe in the purchase of arms, ammunition, supplies of various kinds, and necessary tools, receptacles, etc., for the gathering and transportation of the treasure. I should bring these things in a ship to Rio Negro and meet Casimiro at a point near the settlement fourteen days previous to the longest day of the coming summer, which will be the sixth of December, two months hence. Casimiro would then accompany me on the ship to a point on the coast farther south and nearer to the location of the treasure. If I failed to appear on the day appointed our treaty would be at an end. Of course I agreed. I received about one hundred and fifty pounds of gold-dust ten days later and immediately sailed for Buenos Ayres. I did not dare dispose of any considerable quantity of native gold here, for I am pretty well known and the location of my wanderings in the South was also known. Besides I wished to make a large portion of my purchases elsewhere in order to avoid exciting suspicion. So I sailed to England where I arrived early in August, turned my gold into money, bought all my supplies except food-stuffs, and now here I am laid up with a broken leg with none too great margin of time to keep my appointment with Casimiro in December.

"So you see, my lad, I am compelled to seek assistance. If I were well it would probably be impossible to charter a suitable sailing craft, do all that must be done here in buying, fitting, and other preparations, and sail before the end of the month. The five weeks remaining would be none too much for the uncertainties of such a voyage in a small ship. Now you know practically as much about this strange venture as I do. I have money enough left for the trip to Rio Negro and back besides all necessary purchases of supplies, etc. We may come back here penniless, we may bring the most valuable cargo that ship ever carried. Will you take the chances?"

Brent had listened to the Scotchman's extraordinary narrative with ever increasing interest. The Patagonian chief's description of buried millions in nature's richest treasure-house bewildered him with its prodigality of wealth, its prodigious massing of riches. The story was almost incredible yet plausible. He knew not what to think. He was unable at first to think at all with calmness. But he had only one answer to Fraser's fascinating proposition. If the prospect of success had been but one in a thousand it would have been enough.

"Of course I will take the chances and gladly," he exclaimed warmly. "But do you not suspect," he added presently, "that the Indians have concocted this story in order to secure through you the purchase of a large quantity of goods at much lower rates than they could obtain them from the traders?"

"A very natural suspicion, my lad," responded Fraser, "and it does credit to your bump of caution. But I have absolute faith in them. My reasons are not easy to define, perhaps. I have heard some wonderful yarns in my time and I have grown even more suspicious than is reasonable, I imagine, but I believe these Patagonians told me the simple truth. That is far from saying we shall ever get possession of this treasure. Now, as for terms of partnership, I will pay all the expenses of the expedition and give you a third of whatever proceeds it yields. You agree to see the thing through to the end, co?perating with me of course in every way that circumstances may make necessary. Is that satisfactory?"

"Perfectly, and generously liberal terms they are, too," said Brent, and the two men clasped hands to seal the compact.

INVADING NATURE'S TREASURE-CHAMBER.

Brent never had worked so hard in his life as during the days that followed his strange engagement for the pursuit of fabulous treasure. The disabled Fraser, none too patient in his irksome imprisonment, directed most of the young man's movements. His first efforts were in search of a suitable ship for a coasting and trading trip of indefinite length. He succeeded after a few days in finding a trim schooner of about two hundred and fifty tons which seemed to be just what was needed. Her owners were unwilling at first to charter her for an indefinite voyage that might last three months or possibly six. On Brent's description of her, the Scotchman was willing to buy the craft outright if necessary, but a liberal offer finally secured possession of her for six months.

Fraser hoped they might succeed in returning to Buenos Ayres by the middle of February at latest. Casimiro had told him the gold was about one hundred miles from the coast, so that the task of transportation of the immense quantity he had described would be slow and difficult. But he had explained that it was near a river, easily navigable for canoes or rafts down stream but almost impossible of ascent by either means, so rapid was the current at many places. He had promised to make such preparations as he could with the primitive means at his command during the Scotchman's absence. Fraser hoped, therefore, that with the assistance of the Patagonians the treasure might be brought to tide-water within a month of his arrival at the nearest point on the coast.

One point in their problem troubled both Fraser and Brent for some little time. How were they to load the gold upon the schooner, bring it to Buenos Ayres, and transship it to England or New York without the crew's or other handlers' discovering the nature of the cargo? Both men agreed that every precaution must be taken to prevent the disclosure of such a secret. They finally decided that before being put upon the schooner the metal must be packed in strong boxes securely made and practically unbreakable. When they came to figure a little they found that on the basis of the chief's calculation of the quantity of gold, it would require a good many boxes to contain it. Even if five hundred pounds should be packed in each case, which would be as great a weight as could be conveniently handled, there would be no less than four hundred boxes necessary to contain the two hundred thousand pounds which Casimiro had roughly indicated to be the amount of the treasure. The boxes would still be very small. The specific gravity of gold is so high that it occupies about one fourth the space of iron, weight for weight.

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