It was now perfectly evident that they would not be able to reach Cuzco that evening, and as the darkness was fast coming on the Peruvians began to look about them for a suitable place in which to camp for the night. About half a mile farther on could be seen, through the gathering gloom, a small hillock, crowned with great rocks and boulders, apparently the remains of some ancient Inca fortification. This struck Douglas as a place that might have been made on purpose for their attempt, could the guards but be induced to pitch the camp there. He was casting about in his mind for some scheme by which they might be induced to select the spot as a halting-place, when the officer in command of the troop rose in his stirrups and, pointing to the hillock with his sword, exclaimed:

"There, over yonder, is the place for us, mi hijos; we will encamp among those boulders. We shall be as comfortable there as in the city of Cuzco itself. Forward, guerreros; we shall soon be there; and we will have a good long rest to-night."

"Ay, that you will, you inhuman scoundrel," muttered Jim; "but it will not be the sort of sleep of which you are thinking!" However, the prisoners and their guards pushed forward, and in about ten minutes' time the group arrived at the foot of the little hill, which they at once began to climb.

"Now I wonder," thought Jim, "whether the next time we tread this road it will be as free men once more. God grant us success this night, for if we fail there will be no second chance for us!"

The other officers seemed to be occupied with similar thoughts, for they examined the whole place and its surroundings very carefully as they ascended; evidently in order that, should the attempt be successful, they might be able to find their way down in the darkness. At last the summit was reached; but before the weary men could enjoy the rest of which they stood in such great need, they were obliged to unload the tents and provisions from the pack mules, the Peruvians being much to lazy to do anything for themselves. It was therefore about eight o'clock by the time that the tents were pitched and the evening meal prepared; and when the food was ready the prisoners ate as much as they could, for they did not in the least know where they would obtain their next meal. This having been done, the pots and pans had to be cleaned and put away; so that it was a tolerably weary company which at last sought its tents to lie down and rest.

But not to slumber. There was not a single Chilian among those to whom the plan had been revealed who closed his eyes, lest he should fall asleep and thus not be ready when the momentous signal should be given. Long before this it had been ascertained that there were but four keys for the purpose of locking and unlocking the prisoners' manacles; one being held by the captain, while the other three were distributed in turn among the soldiers, being given to three different men every day, for the better security of the prisoners, and to make sure that there could be no tampering with the guards. Jim had been keeping his eyes very wide open all through the day, and he had noticed which of the Peruvians were the men who had the keys in their possession that night, while he had also carefully marked the positions where they had thrown themselves down to sleep. Two of the soldiers had retired to a tent, but the third had fortunately elected to sleep in the open, as the night was very warm.

The plan arranged was for Jim and his group of manacled fellow-officers to crawl forward, and either kill or stun one of the gaolers—it would be too risky to tackle more than one—secure his key, unlock their own fetters, and then to go silently the rounds, setting free their companions. When all were at liberty they were to seize their shovels and pickaxes and with them attack the slumbering soldiery, killing as many as possible before they were fully awake and could seize their rifles. Should they be discovered before the work was complete, those who were free were to keep off the Peruvians while the remainder were set at liberty.

It sounded rather a barbarous scheme, but Jim could think of no other which would be at all likely to be successful; and he was by this time rendered altogether too hardened by privation and ill-treatment to feel very much pity for the callously brutal Peruvian guards. Besides, it was his life or theirs, and he had no difficulty in choosing.

The young Englishman waited until midnight, in order to allow the soldiers to get well asleep, and then he silently nudged his companions to make sure that all were awake. They all were,—very wide awake, too,—and, after a few low-voiced instructions from Douglas, the little body of men began to crawl away through the darkness, taking the utmost care that there should be no clanking of chains to betray their movements. Forward on hands and knees they went, all moving together; and they soon passed through the ranks of their comrades, who did not make a single movement while the gallant little band crawled past.

Soon they had left the Chilian part of the encampment behind; and a few minutes later, Jim, who was the leading man of the party, came abreast of the first Peruvian tent. The night was pitchy dark, although there was a young moon, for the sky was covered with dark, low-lying clouds. This was all the better, for it lessened the probability of their being seen by the sentries; but they had to exercise a great deal of caution to avoid colliding with and so disturbing any soldiers who had elected to sleep out in the open.

"Now," whispered Jim, as they came abreast of a certain tent, looming up dim and ghostly in the darkness; "Pedrillo is sleeping just outside this tent. Forward, men; but carefully, for your lives. One false step now, and all will be lost. Come along, and remember—we must be quick and silent at—at the work which we have to do. There must not be so much as a single struggle."

His companions now came up abreast of Douglas, instead of following in single file; and, still abreast, they crawled toward the slumbering custodian of the key. Nearer and nearer they drew, until only a few yards separated them from their prey, then only a few feet. They were almost within arm's length of him now; silently they crept forward again, then they paused. The only sound was that caused by the heavy breathing of the victim and the soft, hissing breaths of his executioners. Now they crept forward again until they were close to the man; Jim plucked the sleeve of the Chilian nearest to him, and together they leaned over the gaoler.

"Now!" hissed Jim, and four men flung themselves upon the fellow's body at the same moment that Douglas's hands clutched his throat. There was a short quick scuffle, and it was all over.

In a second he had snatched the key from the dead man's girdle and was feverishly unlocking his comrades' fetters. Then they, in turn, unlocked his, and in less than five minutes the twelve men were all free. Back they sped to their own portion of the camp, and were soon unlocking their friends' manacles, with the result that in less than twenty minutes at least half the Chilians were free, and stood, grasping their pickaxes and shovels, ready for the fight which was inevitable before they could get away.

Then a horrible thing happened.

Among the Chilians was a naval petty officer, a surly, cunning—faced creature whom nobody trusted, and from whom, therefore, all particulars of the plot had been kept secret. Jim had just inserted the key in his manacles, when this traitor shrieked at the top of his voice:

"Help! help! the Chilians are escaping!"

Why the fellow did it nobody ever knew, but it was surmised that, being too much of a craven himself to attempt to escape, he had hoped to purchase his own freedom by betraying his comrades. But he must have been mad to do such a thing, surrounded as he was by Chilians, for he might have felt certain that before assistance could reach him he would be dead.

The mischief, however, was done, and the slumbering camp was effectually alarmed. The sentries squibbed off their rifles, and then, reloading, began to blaze away into the Chilian encampment. The captain's harsh voice was heard giving orders, and in a few seconds the Peruvian soldiers had formed up in line, fixed their bayonets, and were prepared to charge.

"Quick," exclaimed Jim; "seize your shovels and pickaxes and repel their attack. I will help you. You, Manuel, take the key and free the others while we who are already free keep the Peruvians at bay. But be cool— keep calm, and all will be well; we will defend you."

Tossing the key to Manuel, Jim seized a shovel, and put himself at the head of his men. "Charge! charge!" he roared, and the fifty free Chilians charged straight at the place where the Peruvians were known to be.

The next second a sanguinary and ferocious struggle had commenced in the darkness. The Peruvians, hearing the Chilians approach, had levelled their rifles, and poured a withering volley into the charging men, with murderous effect. But, their rifles once emptied, conditions were somewhat more equal, and for a quarter of an hour the combat raged furiously. But such an unequal contest could not last very long; the soldiers were able, during pauses in the struggle, to reload their rifles; and this being done, they mowed the Chilians down by dozens. Manuel did his work well, but the liberated men who straggled up, by twos and threes, did not prove a very valuable reinforcement for the prisoners.

Then, to crown all their misfortunes, the moon came out and flooded the battle-ground with light; and light was all that the Peruvians needed to enable them to turn a one-sided combat into a massacre. The Chilians, mowed down by the score, at last threw down their primitive weapons and called for quarter; but the soldiers, rendered still more ferocious by the sight and smell of blood, continued to fire into the defenceless prisoners until they were sated with slaughter. Then the hapless band was surrounded once more, and the unhurt and least seriously wounded men were manacled afresh. The mortally wounded were simply bayoneted as they lay, their friends being unable to stay the murderers' hands.

At last it was all over; the casualties were counted up and the roll called. The Peruvians had lost but eleven men, all killed, whereas the Chilians were reduced to forty, all told, scarcely one of whom did not bear a more or less serious wound on his person. But the Peruvian captain was furious at what he called the "dastardly attack" of the Chilians on his men, and he swore to take a full and complete revenge when the next morning should arrive. The wretched men were then allowed to lie down once more and sleep—if they could; and thus the remaining hours of that ghastly night passed slowly away.

The next morning, as soon as day dawned, Captain Garcia-y-Garcia, having appointed a sergeant and a corporal to assist him, constituted himself and his two assistants into what he called a "court-martial," and then proceeded to try the prisoners.

Jim he promptly pounced upon as the ringleader, and subjected the young Englishman to a short examination, which, however, was the merest farce, for the captain had already determined upon his fate. After a trial lasting, perhaps, five minutes, therefore, Jim was condemned to be shot before mid-day, as were nine more of his unfortunate companions. The remaining thirty Chilians were each sentenced to receive a flogging of a hundred lashes as soon as they arrived at the mines; and Captain Garcia- y-Garcia promised himself that he would be the man to supervise the punishment.

The ten men who were condemned to death were then separated from the rest of the troop, and were told to seat themselves on the ground at some little distance away, where they were at once surrounded by guards. Garcia-y-Garcia then selected a squad of twenty Peruvian soldiers, and told them off for the firing-party. They were then formed up in a single line and ordered to load their rifles with ball cartridge.

When everything was in readiness, the ten unfortunate prisoners were brought forward and made to stand, also in line, with their backs against a huge rock which was to serve as a background; and Jim found himself, for the second time in his life, facing a firing-party and condemned to death. But this time there seemed to be no hope or possibility of reprieve. He was surrounded by cruel men who had no feelings save those of a brutal nature, and it seemed as though no power on earth could save him.

Jim was very thankful that no attempt was made to blindfold them, for he had had a bandage round his eyes on a previous occasion, and knew from experience that the suspense of waiting for the squad to fire, not knowing what they were doing meanwhile, was worse than death itself could possibly be.

At last the fatal moment came, and the unlucky men shook hands with one another in sad farewell. The doomed men then stood to attention, and the soldiers examined the breeches of their rifles to make sure that they were properly loaded.

Then came the word "Ready!" and the twenty rifles came up to the soldiers' hips as though by machinery. At the second word of command the barrels glinted in the sun as the men planted the rifle-butts in the hollow of their shoulders. Jim involuntarily cast his eyes skyward as he waited for the final word, and his lips were seen to move slightly.

A painful pause—and then Garcia-y-Garcia's voice rang out, loud, clear, and triumphant: "Fire!"

There was a simultaneous crash as the rifles were discharged, and Jim felt a sharp, stinging sensation in his left side and in his arm as he fell back upon the ground. A body fell a second after his own and lay right across his face, and Jim had actually put up his hand to push away the corpse before he realised that he was not at all severely hurt. He was recalled to his senses by hearing the captain's voice commanding his men to reload and fire again into the heap of corpses, to "make assurance doubly sure," as he put it, and Jim had presence of mind enough to abstain from making any further movement, though he suffered agonies of suspense while waiting for the second discharge.

It came at last, and Douglas escaped yet a second time, although the body lying above his own was riddled with bullets. The Englishman could feel now that the bullet which struck him had passed between his left side and his left arm, grazing both, but inflicting no injury worth speaking of. But would he escape after all, or would he have his brains blown out as he lay? The question was soon answered, for even as he was thinking about it, the body was hauled off his face and a soldier shouted: "Why, captain, here is a man who is still alive."

Garcia-y-Garcia ran up and stood over Jim, looking down at him with eyes that glittered with savage menace. He half turned away to give the order for Jim's death, when he checked himself. His expression gradually changed, and presently he spoke:

"No; I don't think I'll shoot you to-day, Senor Chileno, although I don't know that I may not change my mind later. However, I will spare you this once, for you deserve to escape death after having been shot at twice. Get up!"

Hardly able to believe his ears, Jim rose to his feet, and was immediately secured to the chain once more. Then, still in a dream, he heard the command given to march, and the sadly depleted company moved down the side of the knoll, leaving nearly seventy unburied corpses lying on its summit. How very differently things had looked yesterday at this hour, thought Jim: how sadly everything had changed! Between now and yesterday lay this blood-red day of Cuzco—a day which Jim knew he would never forget so long as he lived.



CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

A CURIOUS DISCOVERY.

After the dreadful episode near Cuzco a heavy gloom settled down upon the poor remnant of the prisoners, and the group marched forward and ever forward in a sullen, hopeless silence. Jim made several efforts to put fresh heart into his comrades, and to persuade them that everything was not lost, even yet, if they could but pull themselves together. He told them that the mines were still some distance away, and that a second attempt at escape might perhaps be so engineered as to be successful; but it was all to no purpose; the unhappy Chilians had completely lost heart. Moreover, they seemed to think that the ill- success which had attended their effort at Cuzco was in some measure due to the young Englishman who had, as they put it, misjudged the time; and Jim soon found that he was everywhere greeted with sullen looks instead of with the cheery smiles which were once accorded him. He therefore gave up the idea of inciting them to another attempt, and came to the conclusion that he would have to make his escape alone, if it was to be made; and he determined that henceforth he would keep his intentions secret from the others, and would not even invoke their assistance; for he feared treachery on their part in the temper that then possessed them.

Watch as he might, however, the young man could find no opportunity, for the guards had redoubled their vigilance, and they kept an especially sharp eye on Jim, for he was considered by all the Peruvians to have been the ringleader of the Cuzco affair; indeed, the soldiers quite failed to understand why Captain Garcia-y-Garcia had shown him any mercy on that occasion. The young Englishman also kept his eyes open, carefully marking in his mind the route by which they had come, so that he might find his way back along it upon some future occasion. They had now left the strictly mountainous region, and had entered upon the flat dusty tableland in the midst of which Lake Titicaca is situated; and it was for the northern end of the lake that the party was now heading.

Then, one day at dawn, they beheld a magnificent sight. There, before them, lying at a slightly lower level than the surrounding country, lay the blue waters of the lake, shimmering in the sun, whose beams had already gilded the snowy summit of Mount Sorata, which lay a little to the south-eastward. It was at the foot of this giant among mountains that the village of Sorata was situated, and Jim realised that their long journey of seven hundred miles was nearly ended.

It was exactly one month after the tragedy of Cuzco that the way-worn troop marched into the village; and a fearful-looking lot of scarecrows the prisoners were by that time, in truth. They had scarcely a rag to their backs, while their boots and stockings had long since worn away from their feet, and they had to tramp along barefooted. They were lean and gaunt, with scarcely an ounce of flesh on their poor starved bodies; in fact they presented the appearance of a squad of skeletons rather than of living men. Tanned, as they were, to a deep mahogany colour by the fierce sun and strong air, with hair growing down upon their shoulders, and with coarse, matted beards, no one would have believed that a few short months ago many of these men were among the smartest and best-dressed officers in the Chilian army and navy. Jim himself looked as bad as the rest, but he had one advantage which the others had not, for under his tattered rags his brave heart beat as strongly and as resolutely as ever, whereas the Chilians had entirely lost their courage.

The sun was just setting, and the long day's work was over, when the Chilians arrived, and they were just in time to see the prisoners who were already there taking their evening meal. A few half-starved curs had run out to meet the new arrivals, and now jumped and barked savagely around them in a transport of fury at seeing a few new faces. The village, if such it could be called, consisted simply of a number of long wooden huts roofed over with corrugated iron. Some of the huts were used as barracks for the convicts, some as quarters for their guards, and a still larger number as engine, boiler, machinery, and store houses for the purpose of extracting and storing the silver from the ore. The whole place was intersected by narrow-gauge tram-lines, upon which were run little wagons which a couple of men could push, for bringing the raw material from the mine to the smelting-houses. Several of these standing about in various parts of the village added to the general uncouthness and desolation of the scene; and Jim felt that if he were compelled to stay here for very long, he would go mad with the very dismalness and horror of his surroundings.

But he was not allowed very much time for reflection, for directly the much-diminished roll was called, the prisoners were conducted to a shed containing a large number of sacks of crushed Indian corn, the staple food of the Indians in Peru; and here a small quantity of the unappetising stuff was served out, together with a tin can, to each man. This corn, made into a sort of porridge by boiling it with water, was to constitute the prisoners' evening meal; and they were given to understand that all their other meals would consist of the same food. The unfortunate men, who had been freed from their shackles as soon as they arrived at their destination, then took their tins, and, making themselves as comfortable as they could in the prisoners' compound, proceeded to boil and eat their unwholesome-looking porridge. By the time that this was done, darkness had fallen, and the village was lighted up by means of rough paraffin lamps hoisted on poles. By the light of these the prisoners were now herded together once more and marched away to the long iron sheds in which they were told they would have to sleep. But before entering these hovels, a number of Peruvian soldiers brought out a quantity of clothing, made on purpose for the convicts, and the Chilians were ordered to strip and put these on. Jim was very glad to have another suit, although it consisted of only a pair of rough blue serge trousers, a kind of jersey, a neckcloth, and a jacket, for his own garments were so torn and ragged that they were hardly sufficient to cover him. They were then told that a pair of clogs would be served out to each of them the next morning at daybreak, when work would commence, but that now they were expected to turn in for the night, according to the rules governing this little convict settlement. The iron-roofed shed looked even more uninviting inside than outside. Down each side were ranged narrow platforms, which were divided into "beds" by narrow strips of wood about three inches in height, and all the covering allowed was a pair of very old dirty blankets; of mattresses there was no sign, not even loose straw being provided, and the whole interior was dirty and odoriferous beyond description. However, considered Jim philosophically, prisoners cannot be choosers; and having arranged his blankets as comfortably as was possible under the circumstances, he turned in and slept the sleep of the utterly weary.

The next morning he was awakened by a hideous clanging noise, which proceeded from a huge gong hung in the courtyard. Everybody immediately sprang out of bed, folded up their blankets, and streamed out into the courtyard, where, Jim noticed, there was a narrow stream of running water. He availed himself of this to have a good wash, a proceeding which excited the laughter of the gaolers, many of whom looked as though they had never touched water in any form during the whole of their lives. This having been done, he procured his tin and his daily allowance of meal and prepared his breakfast, for which he had an excellent appetite. When this was over, the prisoners were told off in groups of ten each, a soldier with loaded rifle mounting guard over each section. These were marched away one by one, until only one group remained, and Jim had not yet been apportioned to a party; but he soon found that Captain Garcia-y-Garcia had represented him to the Governor as being a most dangerous character, so that he was to have a guard all to himself, and not to be allowed near the other prisoners. This arrangement suited Jim admirably, for he had already made up his mind that if he was to escape at all, it must be alone, and he would have a much better chance of getting away while working by himself than he would get if he were one of a gang; for it would be strange indeed if a strong, able-bodied young Englishman could not get the better of a mere Peruvian soldier.

He therefore accepted the situation with much satisfaction, which, however, he took care not to show, and marched off toward the mine with his guard. When he arrived at the place where he was to work, he saw that the word "mine" hardly described the place, for it was not in the least like an English mine. The so-called mines consisted of a number of ancient Inca workings which, after having lain idle for hundreds of years, had been again started by the Peruvians. Instead of a shaft being driven down into the earth, and galleries being cut in various directions from that shaft, the mines simply consisted of tunnels driven horizontally into the side of a hill. It was a primitive method, and one adopted by the Incas; but the ground was so rich and ore so plentiful that this method was found as good as any other, and cheaper than most. There were scores of these tunnels, some of which had been exhausted and abandoned, while the ore was being taken out of others by truck-loads at a time, the little narrow-gauge tram-lines running from the tunnel-mouths right down into the village.

By the time that Jim had arrived at his allotted post his fellow- prisoners had disappeared elsewhere, and he found, to his great joy, that he was working on the side of the hill remote from all the other convicts. He could hardly conceal his satisfaction, for everything was falling out much better than he could possibly have expected; and, under the influence of his newly awakened hope, he became quite chatty and affable with the sentry, who gradually thawed under the Englishman's flow of talk and high spirits. Douglas now found that he was not expected to extract ore, for indeed there was no tram-line here whereby it could be carried away. This particular tunnel had been closed up by a fall of rock as long ago as the sixteenth century and had never since been worked, and as the Peruvians thought that there might still be a good supply of ore there, they had determined to open it once more. This, then, was Jim's task, and he approached the blocked-up tunnel- mouth determined to do as much work as he possibly could, and thus endeavour to earn the sentry's good-will, for that, he decided, should be his first step on the road to freedom.

By the time that dusk had fallen and work had ceased for the day, Douglas had cleared away several cubic yards of rubble from the tunnel- mouth, and had also impressed the sentry so favourably that the latter not only thought himself lucky in having charge of so docile a prisoner, but also decided that it would not be necessary for him to exercise quite so much vigilance as he had expected to be obliged to do.

Morning after morning the Englishman and the Peruvian went up to the tunnel, and the two soon became, to all appearance, very excellent friends. Jim steadily worked his way farther and farther into the tunnel, and the sentry sat at the entrance thereto, smoking and dozing, instead of standing close beside the prisoner during the whole day, as he had done at first. Douglas was delighted, for this was precisely what he wanted. The soldier's suspicions were being lulled to sleep very effectively, and Jim told himself that the time was fast approaching when he might try to hoodwink the fellow still further. However, in order not to act too hastily, he allowed a few more days to elapse, and then one morning, during his mid-day meal, he entered into conversation with the Peruvian, adroitly keeping the conversation as personal as possible, and leading the fellow on to talk about himself. It was an easy task that Jim had before him, as he very soon found. He sympathised with the man in all his little troubles, and advised him what to do to make matters easier for himself, the consequence being that Douglas passed the whole afternoon sitting down and talking with the soldier, with the result that by the evening the two were as friendly together as even Jim could wish.

The Peruvian Government, it now appeared, was in the habit of giving the prisoners a small bonus for every cubic yard of rubble or ore that was removed above a certain fixed quantity, and this bonus Jim laid himself out to earn, with the result that he very soon had a nice little hoard of pesetas, which he laid out on such comforts as the village provided. He also took care to keep his gaoler well supplied with cigarillos, which proved the best prescription for keeping him in a good temper. So that by the time that three months had slipped by, the man had ceased to keep guard over his prisoner at all, and left him to excavate the tunnel unwatched, while he himself sat down on the shady side of a rock to enjoy his tobacco. Things were now indeed shaping very well for Jim, and having lulled his gaoler's suspicions, the young man next set about getting together a small store of provisions, which he secreted little by little behind a great boulder which he found about fifty feet inside the mouth of the tunnel, and a month later he had accumulated what he considered to be enough provender to last him, with care, until he could reach either the sea-coast or the nearest Chilian outpost, which at that time was lying somewhere near Caraguara.

The next thing, he told himself, was to wait for a favourable opportunity to escape; and while waiting he put all his energies into his work, so that he might have as much money as possible when the time came for him to make his attempt. It was quite the usual thing now for the guard—whose name, Jim had ascertained, was Carbajal—to lie down behind his rock, and either sleep or smoke while his charge laboured in the tunnel; and one day Jim crawled over to the rock where he lay and took a good look at the fellow. He was sitting with his back against the rock, fast asleep; his rifle was lying about three feet away from him, and his peaked cap was tilted over his eyes. If he would only go to sleep like that in the morning, thought Jim, all would be well; for the escape would have to be made very early in order that the fugitive might get a good long start before his absence was discovered when the roll was called at nightfall.

Douglas had now quite a nice little stock of money, and he soon made up his mind what to do. One evening, before going to the sleeping barracks, he bought a bottle of aguardiente, and from an Indio with whom he had made friends he procured a large quantity of coca leaves, which he put into the bottle of spirit to soak overnight, knowing that by the morning the strong liquor would have absorbed all the cocaine out of the leaves.

The next morning he extracted all the leaves and recorked the bottle, which he carefully secreted under his coat, for he had determined to make his escape that very day. Then he went up to the tunnel, followed by the guard, who lay down behind his usual rock directly they arrived at the works. Jim considered for a few seconds whether he should offer the man the bottle at once or later, and finally determined in favour of the latter, in order to avoid arousing his guard's suspicions, and to give him an opportunity to get thoroughly thirsty in the hot sun. Jim then went into the tunnel and walked down to its far end, not to work, however, for he determined to save himself up as much as possible, in view of future contingencies.

He therefore sat down, with his back against one of the tunnel walls, but would not close his eyes lest he should inadvertently drop off to sleep. He had been staring abstractedly at the opposite wall for some minutes, when it dawned upon him that one of the blocks of stone of which it was composed had a very curiously symmetrical appearance, and the longer he gazed at it the more convinced did he become that the slab was not nature's handiwork at all, but that of man. In a moment all sorts of legends vaguely flashed through his mind, and, knowing that this tunnel had been originally used by the Incas and had not been opened since, he began to wonder whether the curious circumstance was worth investigating. He soon decided that it was, and seizing his pick, he inserted the point at the edge of the slab, and attempted to lever the stone away. It resisted for so long, however, that he was beginning to think the stone was after all no more than a part of the natural rock, when, under a more than usually vigorous pull, he saw it move forward slightly.

He now wrenched at it more determinedly than ever, and in a few seconds had the satisfaction of seeing the heavy slab totter and then fall outward on to the floor of the tunnel. Douglas was provided with matches and a lantern for the purposes of his work, and he lost no time in exploring the cavity which the stone had disclosed. With eager fingers he searched and probed about, but for some time found nothing. Then his hand suddenly encountered something that felt metallic and heavy, and upon bringing it to the light, he found that he held in his hand a small golden image, some three inches high, evidently representing the god Rimac. This spurred him on to new efforts, and in a few minutes he had extracted five other little figures from the same place. Jim believed that he had now emptied the cache, and he was on the point of abandoning further search, since time was flying, but was just feeling round the hole for the last time, when his hand came in contact with something else.

This last object which he brought to light proved to be nothing less than a roll of Inca paper, a coarse material made of the wool of the vicuna, which the priests were accustomed to use in keeping their records. This was probably a prize of considerably greater value than the gold, Jim thought, and he carefully opened it with trembling fingers. But, as he quite expected, he could make nothing of it, for it was written in the ancient Inca character, which few white men have ever seen, and which only a small number of Indians, directly descended from the ancient Peruvian race, are able to decipher. There was not much of it, but Douglas guessed that its value must be great, or it would not have been hidden so carefully away. He therefore folded it up carefully, and put it, together with the little gold figures, in his pocket, and then left the cave with his bottle of aguardiente, which he meant to present to Carbajal.

The fellow was already very nearly asleep, as it happened, and he was, moreover, very thirsty, consequently Jim's offer was accepted with almost indecent haste; as a matter of fact, Carbajal put the bottle to his lips the moment that Jim held it out to him, and he only removed it when it was nearly all gone.

"Ah! senor," sighed the soldier, as he wiped his lips, "that stuff was good—it always is good when one is thirsty, but—but what a curious flavour it has with it. Not that it is a disagreeable taste, mind you; indeed, I rather like it, but it is somewhat different from the stuff one usually gets here."

"Ah," replied Douglas, "I can see that you are unused to the taste of aguardiente. It is perhaps a long time since you tasted any? However, there is plenty more where that came from, so don't be chary of using it; besides, I can see that you are thirsty."

After having offered Jim a taste of the spirit, which he declined, much to Carbajal's satisfaction, that worthy again raised the bottle to his lips and finished the contents, flinging the empty bottle away as soon as he had done so. He then composed himself as comfortably as he could against the rock, tilted his cap over his eyes again, and, after a preliminary grunt or two, announced that he felt tired and wished to be left alone. Jim was not slow in taking the hint, but instead of returning to the tunnel, he took up a position from which he could watch his fatigued warder. He kept his eyes fixed on the fellow, and very soon had the satisfaction of seeing Carbajal fall over on his side, completely overcome by the potency of the drug with which the spirit had been doctored.

Jim at once left his hiding-place and crept cautiously forward, presently reaching Carbajal's side. Then he proceeded to shake him, lightly at first, and afterwards more vigorously, until he saw that nothing would wake him for at least a dozen hours. The next thing was to carry the man into the tunnel, and, once there, Douglas lost no time in stripping off the fellow's uniform and clothing himself therein. He then fastened on the leather belt, with its cartridge-pouch attached, and possessed himself of Carbajal's carbine.

This completed Jim's transformation; and he flattered himself that he could now be very easily mistaken for a Peruvian soldier, which was, of course, what he desired. He took one last look round the tunnel, felt in his pockets to make sure that he had transferred to them the golden images and the document, as well as all his other belongings, and marched boldly out of the cavern.

"Clang! clang! clang! clang!" At this moment there came rolling up from the village the sound of the alarm-bell, cutting sharply into Jim's meditations, and he knew in a moment what had occurred. A perverse fate had prompted some prisoner to seize this precise moment in which to make a dash for liberty, and the alarm was being given. For a few seconds Jim hesitated, considering; then, with a hurried look round, he started off down the hillside at full speed, leaping rocks, boulders, and everything else that came in his way. The soldiers were already pouring out of their barracks!



CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

ESCAPED!

This was indeed a sorry trick that fortune, that perverse jade, had played him, meditated Jim. The chances were, too, that the fugitive would take the same direction as Douglas himself, in which case they would probably both be captured. This thought gave wings to the young Englishman's feet, and he went bounding away down the hill like a startled deer, thinking of nothing but getting to cover as quickly as possible. But the unfortunate fact was that there was no place within at least a mile where a man could be concealed, and Jim knew well that long ere he could reach the strip of forest on which he was keeping his eye, he would be in full view of the pursuers should they happen to come that way, which was more than probable.

Stay, though; were both fugitives taking the same direction? There was not so much clamour perceptible now, and Jim pulled up suddenly to listen, at the same time looking back along the way by which he had come. For a few seconds dead silence reigned, and Jim was beginning to congratulate himself that the Chilian had taken another course, when round the corner of the hill he saw a figure emerge, flying along at a tremendous pace, and leaping every obstacle that came in its way; a moment later he heard a renewed uproar of shouts and curses, and he observed that the other fugitive was heading directly for him, doubtless with the pursuers hard on his track.

Then, at this critical moment, an idea flashed through Jim's brain. He did not believe that the fugitive had yet caught sight of him, while the soldiers would not reach the corner for a few seconds, he hoped. Like a man shot, Jim flung himself prone on the ground, and commenced to crawl toward a large boulder which he had just caught sight of, and in less than half a minute he was ensconced behind a rock which was just big enough to afford concealment to one man, if that man had the sense to remain perfectly motionless. Then, stretching himself flat upon the ground, Jim cautiously peered round the edge of the boulder, in order to keep an eye upon the escaping prisoner, for a plan had come into his head which he thought might possibly be successful, and which was certainly the only one which offered any hope of his being able finally to get clear away.

Douglas had suddenly remembered that he was wearing a Peruvian soldier's uniform; and his idea was to allow the fugitive to pass him and then join in the chase, trusting to luck that the pursuers would mistake him for one of themselves. He would, of course, take care not to overtake the Chilian,—let the poor man get away if he could, by all means,—but he thought that if he could himself lead the pursuit, so to speak, he might be able gradually to out-distance the rest of the soldiers, and thus finally get clear away by allowing the Peruvians to imagine that he was still keeping up the pursuit. Should the man be caught, however, Jim trusted to being able to slip away unseen amid the excitement, especially if the capture should happen to take place anywhere near that strip of forest country a mile or so ahead.

A very few seconds sufficed to show Jim that he had not been seen by the Chilian, and that the latter did not intend to avail himself of such an insecure hiding-place as the rock afforded, for he went dashing past at full speed, leaving Jim about a hundred yards to the left.

Just as the man fled by, his heavy gasps for breath sounding marvellously loud in the still air, the first of his pursuers put in an appearance round the corner of the hill, a quarter of a mile away, carrying his carbine at the trail; and he was immediately followed by about a score more soldiers, who began to shout themselves hoarse as they came in sight of their quarry. Then several of the Peruvians pulled up, and, dropping on their knees, levelled their carbines and began to blaze away at the running man. Douglas prayed that the unhappy creature might not be hit, for if he were, it would bring the pursuit to an end in the precise spot where Jim could not possibly avoid being discovered; but he need not have been alarmed; the shooting was execrable, and the bullets flew everywhere but near the fugitive. Several of them flattened themselves against the face of the boulder behind which Douglas was lying, and one nearly blinded him with the dust which it threw up as it plugged into the earth just in front of his face.

The Peruvians did not keep up their target practice very long, for they found it impossible to hit the runner, and realised that he gained a lot of ground when they pulled up to fire. They therefore rose to their feet and dashed along in pursuit once more, only occasionally discharging their weapons pistol-wise in the hope of a lucky bullet finding its billet.

And now they were approaching the rock where Jim was concealed; in a very few seconds he must be prepared to act, and to act quickly too. They evidently had no idea that a second prisoner was so close to them, for, to the young man's great relief, they were aiming to pass the rock at a distance of quite eighty yards. Closer and closer they came, and as they did so Jim gradually edged his way round the rock in such a manner as to keep out of their sight as far as was possible. Another moment's suspense and the leading soldier had passed the rock without giving it so much as a glance. Then another and another man panted past, until presently the rearmost Peruvian went grunting and gasping by.

In a second Jim had sprung to his feet and was scudding along in the wake of the rearmost soldier, at the same time edging away to the right of the rock in such a manner as to bring him directly behind the group of Peruvians. Then he put on the pace a little, and found that he could easily outrun any of the soldiers, since he himself was quite fresh while they were already somewhat winded. He soon overtook the last soldier, and began to pass him, his heart in his throat with apprehension lest the fellow should recognise him as one of the Chilian officers, and shout his discovery to the rest. But the fellow, although somewhat astonished to find that there had been a comrade behind while he thought that he himself was the rearmost man, paid little attention to his supposed comrade, being too much out of breath to do much thinking. Douglas passed him, unsuspected, and meanwhile kept his eye on the Chilian, who, although obviously failing in speed, was rapidly nearing the belt of forest.

Jim then put on another spurt, and passed a second soldier, then another, and still another, without attracting any particular attention to himself; and a few minutes later he found that he was leading the entire party of pursuers. So far so good; his back was now presented to them all, and they had therefore no opportunity to recognise his features; yet while he ran he had a very unpleasant feeling that he might expect a bullet to strike him between his shoulder-blades at any moment. But the bullet did not come; and he could tell, by the diminishing sounds of trampling feet that he was still steadily drawing ahead of the rest of the soldiers. At this moment the Chilian plunged into the thick brushwood, and was, in a few seconds, lost to sight, while a yell of angry disappointment and execration went up from the pursuing soldiery.

"Now," muttered Douglas to himself, "if that fellow only knows what he is about, and keeps cool, he should be able to make his escape without much difficulty." And he too plunged forward at top speed, in order that he also might get into the wood well in advance of the soldiers; for his own chance of escape depended upon his being able to give his "comrades" the slip. A few seconds more, and Jim saw a small opening among the brushwood disclosing an Indian "bush-path"; it was along this that the Chilian had gone, and Douglas now himself dashed into the wood, tearing his hands, face, and clothes on the sharp thorns with which the path was bordered.

Once inside the wood he was out of sight of the Peruvians; and hope lent wings to his feet. He fairly flew along the narrow pathway until he felt he must soon catch up the Chilian, if the fellow were still ahead; but, even when Jim came to a comparatively long length of straight path, he was unable to see any one, and he soon came to the conclusion that the man had, very wisely, slipped away into the thick undergrowth to wait until the pursuit had gone past and darkness should come on. Douglas resolved that he would do likewise, and increased his pace still more, so that he might be out of sight before the soldiers should enter the straight length of path, where, of course, they would be able to see some distance ahead. The Englishman was lucky in finding an opening in the thick wall of brushwood, and he plunged into the brake just a second before the pursuing soldiery came in sight, making a tremendous noise as he broke a way for himself, which he fervently trusted would not be heard amid the uproar that the Peruvians themselves were creating.

As soon as he had got about ten yards from the path he flung himself down at full length upon the ground, in a little open space which was clear of thorns, to recover his breath and listen to the sounds of the pursuit. At the same time he examined the breach of his carbine and, finding it empty, loaded it, wondering at the carelessness of the guard from whom he had so recently taken it. For a second or two the noise of the runners came nearer and nearer; and then, suddenly, there was a loud cry of "Halt!" followed by a terrific shouting and hubbub, the snapping of small branches, the crackling of undergrowth trodden down, and then— the report of a carbine.

"Carrajo!" muttered Jim, "they have sighted that unfortunate Chilian, then! I wonder how it was that I passed without seeing him? Poor beggar! I am afraid that they won't show him much mercy—nor me, either—if they catch me," he added.

But there was no more shooting, and from various parts of the wood men were heard calling to each other; so Jim surmised that it must have been a false alarm, and that the Chilian was still undiscovered. The soldiers were yet rather too far distant for Jim to hear what they were shouting to one another, but presently they approached near enough for him to catch the words, and he found that they were inquiring of one another whether there were any signs of the fugitive, and whether "any one had seen that swift-running man who entered the wood first." The replies were to the effect that the Chileno had not yet been sighted, and that the "runner"—that was, of course, Jim himself—had also mysteriously vanished, but that the latter must be somewhere about, and that they would soon come across him.

Douglas was beginning to fear that the last part of the remark might very soon prove only too true, for it was evident that the Peruvians were slowly but surely working their way through the wood toward the place where he was concealed. Observing, therefore, that the undergrowth was fairly thin ahead of him, he started to crawl along so as, if possible, to get out of the course of the beaters before they should arrive on the spot. Grasping his carbine so that his hand covered the trigger-guard—in order to avoid any accidental discharge in consequence of the trigger becoming caught in some trailing twig—he began to creep forward, making as little noise as possible, and being particularly careful to avoid disturbing the bushes any more than he could help. The soldiers, luckily for him, kept up an incessant shouting, so that he was able to guess pretty well their relative positions; and, after about five minutes' slow progress through the brushwood, he came to the conclusion that he had at last got out of their way. There was, too, a nice little open space wherein he could lie hidden without being in momentary fear of being bitten by a snake, a particularly deadly species of which was known to swarm in that locality.

By this time Jim had recovered his breath, and was eagerly awaiting the moment when it would be safe to move, wondering whether or not he had better remain where he was until darkness set in, when he was dumbfounded to hear some one come crashing through the brake, apparently quite close by, and making straight toward him. It could not be the Chilian, for he would never be making all that disturbance—unless indeed he had gone mad under the stress of being hunted—so it must necessarily be a stray Peruvian soldier. Jim at once sprang to his feet and began to poke about among the bushes with the muzzle of his carbine, as though searching for somebody who might possibly be hidden among them, at the same time turning his back on the approaching man, who was still pushing his way through the bush and singing softly to himself as he came.

Presently the noise sounded very close indeed, then still closer, when suddenly it stopped altogether. Jim knew that the other had seen him, and was doubtless wondering what he was doing there; but he dared not turn round for fear of being recognised; so he continued to poke about among the bushes, as though unaware that any one was present. Then a rough voice, which Jim at once recognised as that of his old enemy, Captain Garcia-y-Garcia, broke the silence with an explosion of Spanish profanity and a desire to be informed why this particular unit of the forces should be thus wasting his time instead of joining in the pursuit of the fugitive.

Douglas at once realised that the captain must have come along some time after his men, and that he had probably only just entered the wood. He also realised that, directly he turned round, Garcia-y-Garcia would infallibly recognise him, in spite of the Peruvian private's uniform which he was wearing. He could also see, out of the tail of his eye, the glitter of a drawn sword which the man carried in his hand. But it was necessary to act at once, for at any moment the fellow's suspicions might be aroused, or the soldiers might come back, or—

Like a flash Douglas wheeled round, bringing the carbine up to his hip as he did so, and looked the officer full in the face; while his forefinger curled caressingly round the trigger. The captain's life hung by a thread, and he knew it, for he had recognised Jim as an escaped prisoner the moment that the latter showed his face.

"Ah!" gasped Garcia, his face turning ghastly white, "it is that scoundrel of an Englishman! From whom have you stolen these clothes, senor?" he went on, at the same time taking a fresh grip of his sword- hilt and moving slightly nearer to Douglas.

It was a lucky thing for Jim that he had never removed his eyes from those of Garcia, for he saw the murder that was lurking in them. Garcia was but trying to put him off his guard by asking that question, and Jim saw it. He had barely time to raise his carbine when the officer's sword flashed in the air and the next second would have smote full upon Douglas's head. But the young man caught the blow on the barrel of his weapon, turning the blade aside, and at the same instant he pushed the muzzle of the carbine into Garcia's face and pulled the trigger!

There was a sharp, ringing report, and the Peruvian fell backward among the bushes, with his head blown to pieces. Jim hastily pushed the corpse out of sight, reloaded his rifle, and then started to run as hard as he could; for he knew that the explosion could not possibly pass unnoticed in that echoing wood; and, indeed, he immediately heard a chorus of excited shouting coming from somewhere away on his left. He therefore picked up his heels and ran for his life. Luckily he came upon another path, running at right angles to the main path, and into this he plunged, stripping off his long military overcoat as he ran. After running for about ten minutes, and getting thoroughly out of breath, he stopped to listen; and, to his great relief, found that all sounds had died away, and that the part of the wood where he found himself was as still as the grave.

He therefore pressed on again, but not so fast as before, and in half an hour's time he fancied that the wood was beginning to grow less dense, and that he was therefore coming to its boundary; but it proved to be only a large wind-gap in the forest, across which he made his way as quickly as possible, striking into a still denser part of the wood on the other side. It was by this time beginning to grow dark, and Jim was considering ruefully the prospect of having to spend the night in the forest when he thought he heard a slight noise somewhere among the trees near him. He at once brought his rifle to the "ready," and glared about him, searching the wood with his glances to see who or what the intruder might be. The next moment he sprang behind a tree; for it was certain that there was somebody close at hand. It could hardly be a Peruvian soldier so far away from his friends, thought Jim; moreover, the individual was treading stealthily, as though in fear of being heard. The next moment the fugitive Chilian pushed his way cautiously into the path, looking warily to right and left as he did so. Douglas immediately sprang out from his hiding-place, nearly scaring the man to death for a moment. The Chilian proved to be an officer who had formerly been on board the O'Higgins, and he and Douglas recognised each other instantly.

They at once sat down to talk matters over, and Jim soon found that his friend knew this part of the country very well, having been there before; and that he had decided to make for Arica, which was at this time in Chilian hands. Jim readily fell in with the plan, and after a good long rest the two men started away upon their arduous journey. They camped for the night on the outskirts of the wood, which they reached about midnight, and there made a meal off the provisions which each had been thoughtful enough to bring. These provisions lasted them a week, by which time they were approaching the region where they might hope to find the Chilian outposts. But they had either miscalculated the distance, or the Chilians had retreated, for it was another week before they finally came into contact with a Chilian force at Tacna; and, meanwhile, they had had to procure food at the muzzle of Jim's carbine, for the country-folk soon perceived that the two fugitives were escaped Chilian prisoners.

As soon, however, as they fell in with Colonel Barros, in command of the first company of the Taltal regiment, stationed at Tacna, their troubles were over. He at once provided them with mules and a small escort, at the same time lending them as much money as he could spare. And after a stay of three days with this hospitable and kindly man they took their departure, arriving at Arica two days later; and there, before their eyes as they came in sight of the harbour, lay the Blanco Encalada, the Chilian flagship, a sight which Jim thought the finest that he had ever seen. The O'Higgins was there also, together with three other ships; and the two scarecrows lost no time in repairing on board their respective vessels.

Jim Douglas's reception on board was one which he will remember all his life. He was instantly shouldered by his brother officers and carried off to the ward-room, where he was made to detail all his adventures, the captain and admiral being at the moment ashore. It was nearly midnight before Jim had finished; and, the admiral being still ashore, he retired to his bunk and slept the sleep of the utterly weary.

The next thing he knew was that he was being violently shaken, while a voice cried, "Rouse up, amigo; rouse up! The admiral has just come on board; and, having been informed of your return, desires to see you immediately. Hurry up! for I believe, from the look of the old gentleman, that he has something good in store for you. It's just nine o'clock, and he breakfasts in ten minutes; so look sharp."

Jim did "look sharp." He dragged a uniform out of his chest, slipped it on, and in less than ten minutes was standing shaking hands with Admiral Riveros.



CHAPTER NINETEEN.

A GUERILLA STRONGHOLD.

"Buenas dias, Senor Douglas," said the old gentleman heartily; "sit down and tell me all about yourself and your doings since the memorable night when you left the Blanco Encalada. I feared that you, with all the rest of the crew of the Janequeo, had perished in Callao harbour, or fallen into the hands of the Peruvians—which is even worse, so they tell me. I am indeed glad to see you back again, my young friend. Now proceed with your report, senor, if you please."

Thus commanded, Jim plunged into a fairly full and detailed recital of all that had befallen him since he had left the flagship, only pausing in his narrative when Riveros wished to be enlightened upon some point or other. The admiral continually nodded approbation of what Douglas had done; and the lad noticed that he paid particular attention to the account of the silver mine at Sorata, and Jim's description of the country thereabout. When the young Englishman had finished his report, which he did in the course of about an hour, Riveros suddenly said:

"Then I may take it, Senor el Teniente, that you are pretty well acquainted with the country about Sorata? Did you, by any chance, see or hear anything of a village called Coroico during your captivity, or while you were escaping?"

"Coroico?" mused Jim; "let me see—yes, sir; I seem to remember hearing the place spoken of by a warder with whom I contrived to become friendly—the man whose uniform I took the small liberty of appropriating, you will remember. He said that a Bolivian force was collecting near there, for the purpose, I believe, of making raids into the newly acquired Chilian territory."

"Exactly! Just so," replied Riveros; "that is the matter in a nutshell. Now listen to me for a few moments, please. As you are aware, we have practically destroyed the naval power of Peru; and we have also made short work of her armies wherever we have come into contact with them. In a word, Peru is almost at the end of her resources; and the Government is ready to come to terms, allowing us to keep the territory we have newly acquired along the sea-coast, namely, that strip of land reaching, roughly, from Papos to Arica. So far, so good. A small portion of that territory, however, belonged to Bolivia, which is, as you know, the ally of Peru. Now, the Bolivian Government is also ready to surrender that land; but a large portion of the population will not hear of it being given up, since their only port, Antofagasta, is situated upon it. These—rebels, I suppose I may call them, are trying to displace the president of Bolivia in order to put in power a man who will not accede to the Chilian demands; but Dr Ladislao Cabrera is too strong for the rebels, and still retains his office.

"Having therefore been foiled in that direction, a force of Bolivians has been collected by a noted guerilla leader named Bajos; and this force, amounting to about a couple of thousand men, has entrenched itself in a strong position near Coroico, whence frequent destructive raids are being made into our newly won territory. They burn and slay wherever they go; in fact they leave a trail of blood and ashes behind them plain enough for anybody to follow. Mercy seems a thing absolutely unknown among these desperadoes; and instead of carrying on their warfare in a civilised manner, they are committing the most dreadful atrocities on all Chilians, both civil and military, who fall into their hands. Now, these men are a menace which we cannot tolerate; for, unless the band is rooted out and utterly destroyed, there will never be peace or safety in the northern part of Chili. This has been a somewhat long introduction to what I have to say, teniente, but it was necessary, in view of the remarks which I am about to make.

"As I say, the work of the navy is practically finished; but we are very short of men in the army; for the army has to cover a large extent of country. I have therefore decided to transfer you from the navy to the army, and to send you, at the head of five hundred men, against these outlaws. You are acquainted with the country; and you have always carried out most satisfactorily such work as I have given you to do. More than that number of men cannot, as I understand, be spared. Five hundred against two thousand is heavy odds, I admit; but much will depend upon the man who is in charge of the smaller force; and I have no hesitation in saying that I do not think I could have chosen a better man for the purpose than yourself."

Jim bowed and murmured his thanks. "Now," resumed Riveros, "the force is actually ready, and is waiting to start on its march. If you had not turned up in the nick of time I should have been obliged to send another man; for this is a matter that cannot wait. Since you are here, however, I shall be glad if you will start for Coroico at once. I am sorry to be obliged to send you away so soon, for you deserve a long rest after all that you have gone through; but perhaps this commission as captain in the army which I have procured for you may be some slight recompense for what you have been obliged to endure. Should you bring this expedition to a satisfactory issue, I think I can promise that you will be raised to the rank of major. That is all, I think. And now, Senor Douglas, the sooner you get away the better. Dios guarde al Usted! Any further particulars which you may desire to know will be given you by Captain Simpson; you will find him in his cabin. A Dios, senor, a mas ver!"

The kindly but extremely busy old gentleman pushed Jim out of the cabin without giving him an opportunity to express the gratitude he felt for the promotion and the trust reposed in him, and he made his way at once to Simpson's cabin, in order to get all the information possible relative to the forthcoming expedition. When he emerged, an hour or so later, he was beaming with joy and pleasureable anticipation; for he found that the task was likely to be a very difficult one; in consequence of which he had been provided with a squadron of the Guias cavalry, together with a couple of field-pieces, which Simpson had told him he would find very necessary. He quickly packed up his slender baggage, and, after saying good-bye to his comrades, had himself rowed ashore. There his first move was made to the establishment of a military tailor, where he procured his new uniform and weapons; then he paid a visit to the cavalry barracks, selected a charger for himself, inspected his troop, and gave orders for them to be ready for an early start on the morrow. They were a fine-looking lot of men, and Jim felt that they were just the sort of fellows for an expedition of this kind.

The following morning at seven o'clock Douglas rode into the parade ground, and found his men already drawn up, together with the two field- pieces; and half an hour later the little army clattered out of the barrack-yard into the streets, past the plaza, out of the north gate, and swung into the road which led north-eastward toward Lake Titicaca, reaching La Paz four days after leaving Arica. They stayed here one day, leaving on the following morning, and by nightfall the force was at the foot of the mountains which they would have to traverse before reaching Sorata. Here they camped for the night, pushing forward the next day right into the heart of the mountains, which, at this altitude, were clothed with thick pine forests, and cut up by mountain torrents spanned by narrow and frail bridges, across which it was a very difficult and supremely dangerous task to transport the horses and the guns.

They had been among the mountains a week, and were approaching fairly close to Coroico; Jim therefore took the precaution to throw out scouts in all directions round his little force, in order to prevent surprise; and one evening, just before darkness began to settle down, one of the men came riding in to say that he had caught sight of a small body of Bolivians hovering among the hills about a mile to the right of the main body. "Evidently," thought the young commander, "the guerillas are expecting some such expedition as this, and have thrown out their outposts; there will therefore be little hope of taking them by surprise." However, as there was no further alarm, and as darkness was fast closing down, orders were given for the camp to be pitched for the night; and very soon the horses were picketed and the men were under canvas, sentries were posted, and everything was made snug and comfortable for the night.

About nine o'clock, feeling greatly fatigued, Jim turned into his tent, and, wrapping himself in his heavy overcoat, threw himself down on the ground, determined to get to sleep early that he might feel fresh and fit for the next morning, when they might reasonably expect to get into touch with the enemy. But try as he might, and tired as he was, sleep refused to visit him, and the harder he tried the wider awake did he become. He also found that he was rapidly becoming obsessed by a horrible feeling that all was not right, that there was some unknown but terrible danger hovering over the sleeping camp. He strove to dispossess his mind of such fancies by assuring himself that sentries were posted everywhere, and that therefore the camp would be early alarmed in the event of an attack being made; but it was all to no purpose; the presentiment only held him the more firmly in its embrace. He had just looked at his watch and discovered that it was midnight, and that he had been tossing and tumbling for three hours, when his ears caught a very faint sound, coming apparently from some distance away.

Douglas sprang to his feet in a moment, and striding to the flap of his tent, bent all his energies to the task of listening intently. Yes, there it was again! It was coming from the direction of a wooden suspension bridge which spanned a broad ravine, and which the force had crossed about a quarter of an hour before camping down; and it took the form of heavy, muffled blows of iron against wood.

"Hallo!" exclaimed Douglas, "there is something wrong here! but what are the sentries doing?"

In a second he had belted on his sword and revolver, and plunged out of the tent in the direction from which the sound was coming, and a few minutes later arrived at the place where the sentry should have been standing; but there was no sign of the man—he was nowhere to be seen.

"Caramba!" exclaimed Jim, "I believe there has been foul play here!" and he began to hunt about among the undergrowth for some sign of the missing man. The next moment he stumbled over something soft, and fell upon his knees, putting out his hands to save himself. They came in contact with a rough overcoat, and in an instant Jim knew it for that of the sentry. Somewhat incautiously Jim struck a match, and saw at once what had happened to the poor fellow; he had been murdered by having a dagger driven between his shoulders!

"By Jove!" gasped the Englishman, "there has been foul treachery here. Aha!" he continued, starting to his feet, "what is that?"

His exclamation was occasioned by a sudden booming crash coming from the direction of the suspension bridge over which his force had passed before camping, and, with a sense of imminent disaster clutching at his heart, he dashed forward in the direction of the chasm, leaving the sentry to the tender mercies of the vultures. Jim came in sight of the bridge—or, rather, its remains—a few seconds later, and saw at once what had happened. The dull, chopping noise which had first attracted his attention had been caused by axe-strokes, and the bridge had been cut through from the farther side, allowing it to fall into the ravine. In a moment the significance of the occurrence flashed into Douglas's mind. What if the place whereon they were camped should prove to be a sort of island between the ravines? And suppose the farther bridge, their only way of escape, should also have been destroyed?

Like a hare Jim doubled on his tracks and fled back to the camp, which he found already alarmed by the noise of the falling bridge, and a few seconds sufficed to warn the men of what had occurred, and to arouse in them a sense of imminent peril. Horses were saddled, bugles rang out, tents were struck, the guns limbered up, and in ten minutes the force was dashing along at top speed toward the next bridge, which they now realised could not be very far away.

As they galloped, Jim suddenly caught the sound of chopping in the distance ahead, and he urged his men to greater speed, the column sweeping along over the rough ground like a whirlwind. And they were only just in time! Round a bend in the road Douglas caught sight of a score of flickering lights, and saw another ravine looming dim and black in the semi-darkness. Were they in time? Was the bridge still intact? wondered the Englishman.

"Halt! Halt!" he yelled; "halt, for your lives!"

With a clatter and scraping of hoofs, a chorus of hoarse shouts, and a terrific whirl of dust, the troopers pulled up, and Jim saw on the opposite edge of the cleft a party of Bolivian guerillas hacking furiously away with axes at the bridge.

"Forward with the guns!" was now the word, and a few seconds later the two field-pieces were dragged to the front and fire opened on the outlaws, to which they replied with a furious fusillade of rifle- bullets, several of the Chilian cavalry falling under that murderous fire. But Jim now ordered the guns to be loaded with canister shot instead of solid, and the guerillas were unable to face that storm of missiles. The men with the axes dropped their tools and took to their heels into the forest—those of them who were unwounded, that is to say—while the greater part fell dead and dying into the ravine. Then gradually the riflemen themselves retreated, keeping up a galling fire the whole time; and, from their evident reluctance to retire, Douglas guessed that they must have a strong reinforcement somewhere close at hand.

There was therefore no time to be lost if they were to get across unmolested, and Jim was himself the first to go over to the other side and examine the bridge, to see whether it was still in a condition to bear the passage of the horses and guns. Luckily, the guerillas had only just begun operations upon the structure, and it was hardly weakened at all; he therefore gave the signal to his men on the opposite side, and in half an hour the whole force was safely across. But it was quite evident that they were in a very perilous situation and completely surrounded by Bolivians. Jim therefore called a council of war, composed of his officers, the result of which was a unanimous decision to press forward at all hazards and strike a paralysing blow at the guerillas before they were fully prepared for it, if possible. Jim's force could not be very far away now from the Bolivian stronghold; indeed, they might come upon it at any moment, for the gigantic peak of Sorata was well in sight, and Jim took his bearings from that.

Forward they pressed, therefore, going as fast as their horses could carry them over the rough, rock-encumbered ground, and taking care to keep scouts thrown out all round the main body. But, strangely enough, they saw no further signs of the outlaws, and Jim was beginning to wonder where the force that was trying to destroy the bridge could have hidden itself, when, away in the distance ahead, he heard a piercing shriek of intense agony. There was then a pause of a few seconds, but immediately afterwards scream after scream went wailing up into the air! Jim clenched his teeth and drove the spurs into his horse, crying, as he did so: "Follow me, half a dozen of you; there is some more foul work going on ahead of us!"

Six men immediately spurred their horses out of the press and followed Jim at full speed, the little squad of men experiencing no difficulty in finding the direction in which to go, for the piercing shrieks were now becoming incessant. After five minutes or so of hard riding, Jim came within sight of a ruddy glare of light shining ahead among the trees, and he at once guessed what was going forward. Almost directly afterwards the seven horsemen burst into an open glade, at the far end of which was gathered a group of men, who immediately fled into the thick brushwood at the approach of the cavalry; not, however, before Jim had caught sight of their uniforms, which were those worn by the Bolivian guerillas. At the end of the clearing a large fire had been built in the form of a circle, in the centre of which stood a stout wooden stake driven into the earth, and to this stake was lashed an Indian who, poor creature, was being slowly roasted to death.

Jim and his men threw themselves from their horses, and, drawing their swords, promptly began to clear away the burning wood with their blades; and the moment that the circle was broken, Jim dashed through the opening, cut the ropes which bound the wretched Indian to the stake, and carried him out into the open, where the poor creature was laid down on the ground and given a canteen of water, which he drained eagerly, immediately begging for more. This was given him, and Douglas proceeded to examine his injuries just as the Chilian main body rode up. To his satisfaction, Jim found that the man was suffering from nothing more serious than a severe scorching, and he guessed that it must have been the anticipation of torture which had made the Indian send up those heartrending screams. As soon as the poor wretch had recovered from the shock which he had sustained, Jim questioned him as to how he came to be in such a situation, and was told that the man, whose name, by the way, was Jose, had been a guide in the guerilla service. The Bolivians believed that it was impossible for anybody to find the way to their stronghold unassisted, and therefore, as soon as the Chilian cavalry appeared, they had suspected treachery on the part of somebody, their suspicion focussing itself in this case upon the unfortunate Jose. They had therefore put him to the torture, partly as punishment, and partly to make him disclose the strength of the attacking force, which the guerillas averred he must certainly know, since there was no doubt that he had been in communication with it. It was useless, said the Indian, for him to assert his innocence and his inability to supply the information required; he was simply not believed, or perhaps it was that the Bolivians were glad of an excuse for exercising their cruel instincts. The latter, thought Jim, was the more likely cause. Jose, having finished the recital of his adventure, now flung himself at Douglas's feet, praying that el senor capitan would not abandon him in this place, where he would certainly be again captured, but that "His Excellency" would take him into his service. If he would but do that, Jose averred he would be a faithful and true servant to his rescuer for the remainder of his life: he would ask no reward for his services; he would only ask to be allowed to be near Jim—to be his own private bodyguard, and, in short, to do everything that he possibly could to show his gratitude for his timely deliverance.

Jim listened in silence to this outburst, and then somewhat inconsequently inquired: "Do you know whereabout this guerilla fort is situated, Jose?"

"Yes, senor, I do," replied the man; "it is not more than a mile away from here, and I can lead you to the place by way of a road which the Bolivians would never suspect you of knowing."

"Then," said Jim, "I will take you into the Chilian service as a guide, and you can be my own personal servant as well, if you choose. Only be careful that you play no tricks with me, or I will hang you from the nearest tree. Now, I think you are well enough to walk, are you not? Yes; very well, then; lead the way, Jose, to this road of which you speak; the sooner we root out this nest of rebels and outlaws the better!"

Jose did not, as Jim had expected, burst into a torrent of protestations of fidelity; he simply bowed his head and placed the young Englishman's hand upon it, in token of submission, and then said quietly:

"If, Excellency, you will follow me, and also give orders for your men to ride as silently as possible, I will lead you, undiscovered, to the fort in less than half an hour. The road is not very good, it is true; but everything has been prepared for your reception at the other approach, and I can tell you that you would never have stormed the stronghold had you gone by that route."

All being now in readiness, the men again mounted, and, with the Indian walking in front, swung away to the right, finding themselves in a few minutes upon a rough but wide road traversing the edge of a ravine, the inner side of the path being bounded by a high cliff which leaned outward until its top edge actually overhung the chasm, so that it was impossible for any one at the top to molest a force passing along the road by hurling rocks down upon it. As the Indian had remarked, the road was undoubtedly rough; they could not therefore get along very rapidly; but the half-hour had not quite expired when Jose laid his finger on his lips and held up his hand as a sign for the troop to halt.

"Now, mi libertador," said the man, "we have managed to make the journey undetected. The fort is round the bend which you see in the road, and lies among the brushwood a little to the left of it. There is a broad slope leading up from the road to a gate in the fort which is small and very seldom used. The guerillas will not expect an attack from that quarter, for they are looking for you to approach from the opposite direction. Horses will be of little or no use for the attack; but if you can run up your guns, you will be able to blow in the small gate and rush into the fort over its ruins before the Bolivianos can offer any resistance."

Jim accordingly dismounted his men, telling them, however, to take their carbines with them; and the horses were hobbled. The guns were then unlimbered and loaded, when the pieces were dragged quietly along the road by the men; and presently the whole force drew up, just out of sight of the fort, ready to make their rush as soon as Douglas gave the signal. This he did by waving his sword, so as to obviate the necessity for shouting a command, and then swiftly the men swept out beyond the concealment of the cliff into the open space fronting the fort, dragging the field-pieces with them, which were immediately levelled at the gate and fired.

When the Chilians dashed into view, there was a sentry on the roof of the fort, and he immediately squibbed off his rifle; but the alarm was given too late; the report of his rifle was drowned in the roar of the guns, and the splintering and rending of the fort gate was the first intimation afforded the guerillas that the enemy was upon them—from a different quarter from that whence he was expected. Over the ruined gates dashed the Chilians, discharging their carbines as they went, and as they entered the fort they threw down their rifles and drew their sabres.

Then began a fight most grim and terrible. The Bolivians outnumbered their assailants by about four to one, but the latter had the advantage of a complete surprise, and they mowed down the savage guerillas by the score. There was a passage leading from the gate to the interior of the fort, but this was soon very nearly choked with dead and wounded. Jim therefore rallied his men for another charge before the way should be quite closed, and, with a cheer, his brave fellows forced a passage through for themselves, cutting down all who opposed them. So completely were the outlaws taken by surprise that many of them had not found time to arm themselves, and were therefore slaughtered like so many sheep. The promise of success, on the other hand, spurred the Chilians on to still further effort, and in another ten minutes they had struck such terror into the hearts of the defenders of the stronghold that the guerillas flung down their arms and cried for quarter; and thus at last the tide of death was stopped.

The guerillas were then disarmed and imprisoned in batches in the prison cells which they had so carefully prepared for others, while their arms were collected and destroyed, and the fort was in the hands of the Chilians. The terror of the surrounding country had been brought to nothing at last, and there would be no more savage raids and midnight massacres.