Chapter XIV: We Interview the Red-Beard

The mountain, Chaka stated, was four days’ journey from the City of Itza. This was because the country surrounding the barren peak was rugged and very difficult to traverse. Yet our path through the air was so smooth and our speed so great that it was early in the afternoon when we approached so near to Aota that caution induced us to descend and call a halt.

“Here lies the goal of all our struggles,” said Paul. “From this moment we must exercise great care in all we do, for we cannot afford to risk failure by an error of judgment.”

After counseling with Chaka, Allerton decided to land on the west side of the mountain, about half way to the summit. By a careful manipulation of our wings and gradually letting the gas from our jackets we managed to accomplish this in safety, and although we lit upon the rocks about half a mile from the spot we had first selected we were well satisfied with the result of our exciting trip.

No wonder the Itzaex never ventured near Mount Aota. Such a jumble of huge jagged rocks, treacherous precipices, canyons, rifts and caverns I have never seen before nor since. As we settled to the ground we saw no place level or large enough to hold us all, except a deep ravine; so we fluttered down into this and planted our feet upon a pebbly bottom through which a torrent rushed during the rainy season, but which was now dry as a bone.

“It isn’t a bad hiding place, from which to reconnoiter,” remarked Paul, when we had all seated ourselves to rest and take breath, for flying is rather strenuous when long continued. “What do you think, Chaka; shall we make our camp here?”

“Let us find water,” suggested the atkayma.

So we set off in pairs and in different ways to discover water, leaving Pedro to guard the chests. Archie and I walked up the canyon together, finding many fissures leading from it and many dark caverns appearing in the rocks; but no where was there evidence of water. After proceeding a half mile or so we returned to find all the party again congregated. Nux and Bryonia alone had been successful, having found a way to climb up the lower side of the ravine, from whence they descended the mountain a short distance and reached a spring of clear, cold water that bubbled out of a rift in the rock. Quite near was the mouth of a large cave, which they did not wait to explore.

As this spot seemed the most suitable location for a camp we took the chests and made our way laboriously out of the ravine and down the mountain a few hundred feet to the spring, where we all drank of the water eagerly. There was but a narrow ledge to give us foothold here, so we approached the cave, the mouth of which appeared just where the ledge ended.

A few paces from the entrance the cavern was black as ink; so Paul got out his lamp—a modern acetylene search-light affair—and lighted it.

“Get your weapons ready,” he said, “for we don’t know who lives in this mansion, or whether the owner is willing to take boarders. Don’t use firearms; we’re too near the Tcha city for that. If you have to defend yourselves shoot the electrites.”

The search-light soon cast its gleam to the further wall, and we decided the cave was vacant. A slight rustling sound now reached our ears, growing gradually louder in volume, and looking downward I saw dozens of snakes wriggling toward us, hissing venomously as they came. They were tiny things, not much bigger around than a lead pencil and some seven or eight inches long.

“Reetee!” shouted Chaka, springing backward. “Run, friends—run for your lives!”

“But no, my brother,” answered Paul, restraining him. “We are well protected.”

Chaka shuddered, but stood his ground, watching the serpents fearfully. They struck at our feet and legs continually, not coiling but throwing themselves forward by rising upon their tails.

Although the sheathing of our shoes and gaiters was impervious to their fangs, the attack was too horrible not to resent. With one accord we began trampling them under heel, destroying the creatures by scores. But the more we killed the more appeared, creeping upon us from numberless tiny cracks in the walls. They came straight to the attack, fighting mad at being disturbed, and we soon began to tire of the hopeless battle.

“Let’s cut it!” said Archie, and there was no dissenting voice. Gradually we withdrew toward the mouth of the cave, the snakes following persistently, until when we stood upon the ledge it looked as though we must abandon the position and seek another camp.

“What _are_ the things, anyhow?” asked Ned.

“Reetee,” said Chaka; “the most deadly serpents known.”

Nux and Bryonia knew snakes pretty well, having had large experience with them in the South Seas. Bry begged Allerton to give him the key to the supply chest, and going to it he searched for and brought out a package of dry mustard. Then he took the lamp and reëntering the cavern with it, the black kicked the bodies of the dead and dying serpents together in a heap and scattered over it fully half the mustard the package contained. Next moment he came running back to us, and was none too soon, for with a rush the vermin attacking us wriggled back into the cave, where they made straight for the mustard heap, burying their fangs in the carcasses of their damaged brethren.

The result was astonishing. Almost instantly the deadly reetee succumbed to “mustard poison,” as our blacks gravely called it, and in five minutes that lot of harmless mustard—harmless to us, that is—had accomplished more than our boot-heels could do in a week. The odor of the mustard drew every serpent from its hiding place, and contact with the yellow powder was its death warrant. We didn’t care for the cave, with its horrid carpet of dead reetee, but at least we were now free from the vipers’ attacks.

“The fact is,” said Paul, “we can’t stay here, or anywhere else on the mountain, for long. Even if our approach has not been observed, which we have little reason to hope, the spies of the Tcha, which are certainly on the lookout, will soon locate us. So it is necessary we get into the hidden city as soon as possible.”

“On which side of the mountain is the entrance?” I asked Chaka.

“I do not think there is any entrance,” said he; “at least, none that is known to those outside.”

“Yet your father visited this city?”

“Many years ago, when he was a young warrior. At that time he and his band had taken a fancy to hunt on this mountain and began to climb it in search of game. One night, as they lay sleeping, all were seized and bound. Then, being blindfolded they were carried bodily through what seemed to be a long passage. In the morning their bonds were removed and they found themselves within the splendid hidden city of the Tcha. A council was held, at which it was decided to kill all but my father, the atkayma of the Itzaex. He was made to promise that he would never mention the secret of the existence of the city to any but his son or his successor who would rule his nation in his place after him. Ever, during his life and the lives of his successors, he was to prevent any of the Itzaex or other people from wandering near to this mountain. Under these conditions his life would be spared and he would be sent back to his home. Of course my father promised, and the next night was blindfolded and led through other passages, finding himself alone at daylight at the very foot of the mountain. He told me all this, so that I could fulfill his pledge when I became atkayma; but he would tell me nothing of the people of Tcha, except that they were a wonderful race and their city was magnificent with gold and beautiful red gems. Some few details I gleaned from him, but aside from what I have now told you I know nothing.”

“Then,” said I, “the thing is all hearsay. There is no positive proof that within the steep and forbidding walls of this mountain lies any city at all.”

Chaka looked at me reproachfully.

“My father, the atkayma, never lied,” he said.

“I don’t mean that, old man. He might have got a crack on the head, and dreamed it all. Or the things he saw may have impressed him, an ignorant savage, as more wonderful than they really were.”

“I believe the story, Sam,” said Allerton, sharply. “Indeed, I have risked my life and future happiness upon its truth. Why should you doubt?”

“Oh, I don’t Paul,” said I. “I’ve seen too many queer things to doubt anything but the commonplace. But you must admit it’s a rather flimsy story to base such great hopes on.”

We were sitting on the chests on the narrow ledge, talking in this manner, when Bry, who was facing the cliff that rose sheer above us, uttered a cry and pointed upward.

We all turned, to stare in astonishment.

Not ten yards distant, upon a tiny shelf of rock that looked like a bracket jutting out from the cliff, squatted a man.

He was clothed in a white toga which had a border of deep blue. His hair and a long beard that swept to his knees was golden red. His eyes were large and blue in color, his features regular, expressive and intelligent. Strangest of all _his skin was white as our own_!

I could not see that he bore any arms, but while he might not be very tall, if standing erect, the muscles that showed in his bare arms and neck convinced me he was powerfully built and strong as an ox.

Silently he sat, his knees clasped by his brawny hands, and even when he found himself observed he gave no start nor evidence of emotion.

The situation became rather embarrassing to us at last, for while we were objects of the man’s earnest scrutiny—a scrutiny that seemed to search out and analyze our very thoughts—his composed countenance offered us little information in return.

Chaka, as the important member of our party, just then, stood up and bowed with great solemnity. Speaking the Maya tongue, common to all the tribes throughout Yucatan, he said:

“I greet a friend. May peace reign between us.”

“If our god so decrees,” was the reply, in a deep, resonate voice. This was an established Maya form of greeting among strangers. Said Chaka, continuing:

“Whence do you come?”

“My foot was planted here before your own. It is for you to say from whence you came.”

The man spoke quietly, without a trace of curiosity in his tone. Doubtless he did not require information concerning us.

“I am Chaka, Royal Atkayma of the Itzaex,” returned our spokesman. “These companions are from countries beyond the sea.”

The red-beard nodded.

“Little is there on bleak Aota to reward you for your journey,” he remarked. It seemed he spoke the native language as well as Chaka did. “May the gods of your fathers direct you upon your return.”

It was hard to answer this hint and say we were not going back just then. We had no doubt that before us perched an inhabitant of the hidden city, one of the mysterious and ancient race of Tcha. Remembering the report of Chaka’s father that spies were detailed to guard the mountain from intrusion we at once decided that this fellow was of this class. He would have had poor eyes, indeed, had he not noted our aerial approach, and his presence was now to be attributed to his desire to warn us against ascending the mountain farther.

As for our being able to get much information from him, the task seemed hopeless; but Allerton, addressing us in a low voice in English, said:

“I am going to ask this man some questions. Now that he has discovered us I can see no harm in trying to pump him. He will report our presence to his superiors, anyhow.”

“Maybe not,” I responded significantly.

“Don’t try to hurt him, for heaven’s sake!” warned Allerton. “We can’t afford to antagonize these people in any way. Our cue is to make them our friends.”

I had my own opinion concerning that, but said nothing.

The lieutenant now turned to the man above us, speaking the Maya to him.

“The legends say that the ancient race of Tcha still exists, hidden somewhere near here. Your presence leads us to believe the tale.”

There was no reply.

“Your skin is white; you are not of the Maya race,” continued Paul.

The man remained silent.

“May we not visit your people, and greet them as friends?”

Red-beard shook his head. “You talk in riddles,” he replied coolly.

“A white skin in Yucatan is unusual,” hinted Paul.

“Yet five of you have white skins,” answered the other, not giving our sun-browned Mexican credit for belonging to our race.

“We are Americans,” said Paul. “Soon we shall return to our own country, far away, from whence we came. It would please us, since we are here, to meet your people, who have so long secluded themselves from the great world.”

The red-beard made no reply to this. He did not refuse to answer any direct question, but would not argue or give us any satisfaction in return for our friendly advances.

“We ask to be taken to your city,” continued Paul.

The man sat motionless.

“If you refuse our reasonable request we will find the way without your guidance,” Allerton went on in a firm voice. He was getting provoked.

“In that case you will sacrifice your lives,” came the threatening rejoinder.

“Not so,” said our leader, bluntly. “Our lives are not to be—”

He paused abruptly, for the ledge was vacant. The Tcha had disappeared as if by magic.

With a bound Bryonia leaped up and caught a projecting rock from which he swung himself to the shelf the red-beard had occupied. Then he also disappeared and we waited anxiously the result of his quest. A few moments later the black protruded his head and shook it gravely.

“Dey’s a tunnel heah,” he announced; “but it blocked up good an’ tight.”

Chaka and Allerton both investigated, we standing below to “boost” them to the shelf. When they came back they reported that a small tunnel, merely a crevice, in fact, led into the cliff for a distance of about twenty feet and then ended in a solid wall.

“Of course it isn’t solid,” added Paul, “for the fellow evidently escaped that way and lowered a big stone to block the tunnel. But from this side it is impossible to remove the obstruction.”

“Well, then, what next?” I inquired.

“Let us wait here until darkness falls. It isn’t a very comfortable location, I admit, but it will do for a few hours. Then we will inflate our jackets, rise to a level with the top of the mountain, descend into the city, and take our chances of receiving an affectionate welcome.”

We considered this plan thoughtfully and after discussing it in all its phases decided it was best to follow, under the peculiar circumstances.