The untimely fate of Fret Offut impressed him with the great uncertainty of life. It was true the other had never been his friend, but now that was forgotten and he felt a deep regret over the youth's sad end.

The return to Resaca was made in safety. In fact nothing had been seen of the raiders since the start, and it was uncertain what might be their next move.

The following day Jack saw that Fret's body was given burial in a little plot within sight of the low-walled church of this cl.u.s.tered settlement, he being the only mourner.

"If I should fall in my hazardous work, I could not expect as much as poor Fret gets in this land of strangers. The last bond between this wild country and home seems to be broken. Little did we think of this, Fret, when we antic.i.p.ated that South American trip!"

The last sad duty done for Fret Offut, and finding that the bridge would not be repaired inside of a week, Jack resolved to take a little outing on his own account.

He still carried with him the paper so strangely found on Robinson Crusoe island, and he was determined to make a search for the hidden treasure which it mentioned.

Accordingly, mounted on a small but sure-footed and faithful pony, with a supply of provisions, Jack set out on his uncertain journey without telling any one his intentions, little dreaming of the result which was to come of his secret movement.

He believed the mysterious island was nearly north of Resaca, so he shaped his course in that direction, keeping a sharp lookout for any enemy that might be in his pathway.

He was in the heart of the great dry region of South America, a district of nearly a thousand miles in length, where rain seldom if ever falls, and the country is afforded sufficient moisture by the sea vapors condensed on the Andes and sent down upon the plains and lowlands. The desert of Atacama lay many miles to the south, but as he progressed he often found sections of the country without a thing growing upon the land, though sometimes these spots were bordered by the most abundant growth he had ever seen, even in that realm of grand forests and magnificent flora.

Everywhere, save on these dark patches of waste land, the vegetation was on the boldest scale imaginable, the magnitude of the trees being simply beyond the comprehension of him who had never seen them, while some of even the largest were adorned with beautiful flowers, making them seem like gardens of themselves.

On account of the density of the growth, Jack often found it difficult to advance, and many times he was obliged to make long detours in order to reach a certain point.

Zig-zagging about, always keeping his eyes open for bush-raiders, wild beasts, and, above all, for the strange island, he had spent four days in the wilderness, when he felt that it was time for him to think of returning to civilization.

He had seen no sign of the looked-for body of inland water with its treasure island, though the increasing presence of cinchona trees told him that he was already ascending into the region of the Peruvian Andes.

"I am sure it is at the foot of these mountains that the strange island exists," he thought, as he paused on the summit of one of the foothills of the snow-crowned Monarch of Mountains. "But there is no sign of water, and how can I expect to find an island where there is no water?"

The involuntary speech brought a smile to his lips. As he would explain his thoughts, he said aloud:

"Somehow I got it into my head that there was a lake in this region, and there I was to find my treasure island. But I have been a fool to look for either. Come, Juan," patting the neck of his pony, "let us go back while we have sense enough to do so."

But while he spoke he lingered around the place, as if there was some strong fascination for him. It was a beautiful scene, made up almost entirely of forest, but such a forest as only Peru, with its wonderful natural wealth, can produce.

The trees were composed largely of rosewoods in all their varied beauty, the giant qua.s.sia in all their hues and tints of foliage, with a sprinkling of cinchona, lending a happy blending of more sober coloring, while from the lowlands was wafted to him on the gentle breeze of that tropical clime the perfume of the tinga.

The finger of silence lay on the lip of Nature, even the broad leaves of the qua.s.sia rising and falling on the shifting breaths of air, without that peculiar rustling sound generally belonging to the forest domain.

It was the most beautiful scene he had ever looked upon, and as he allowed his gaze to slowly move around the encircling country, he found himself looking down upon the strangest valley or mountain pocket he had ever beheld.

The singular feature of this isolated, wood-environed retreat was its complete absence of all kinds of growth, except for a sort of silky gra.s.s which covered its uneven surface like a rich carpet of the deepest green tint. Near the centre was an oval elevation of rock and earth higher by a few feet than k.n.o.bs and miniature hills which dotted it elsewhere.

It was bare of vegetation, not even the silken tasia ornamenting its sides, though a solitary tree did rise in lonely grandeur from its utmost crest.

Jack uttered a low exclamation as he saw that this tree was a pimento.

In a moment his mind reverted to the description given in the strange ma.n.u.script, but a look of disappointment succeeded his eager antic.i.p.ation.

"What a fool!" he exclaimed. "That tree stood on an island--"

A rustle in the undergrowth arrested his attention at that moment, and, before he could avoid the unexpected attack, a dark lissom body shot through the air, to alight squarely upon his pony, that, with a snort of terror, started madly through the growth.

Chapter XI

Under the Head of a Jaguar

Jack was nearly unseated by the sudden dash of his pony, and managing to retain his position he was in imminent danger of being swept off by the branches of the trees.

The deep growl of the creature at his back rang in his ears, and he could feel the poor pony quiver in every muscle, as the fearful claws of the brute were buried deep into its flesh.

This occupied but a moment's time from the attack of the wild beast to the end of the pony's flight, but it was such a moment as Jack never forgot.

He had seen a precipice in the pathway of the terrified animal, but not in season to stop the maddened creature or turn it aside, though he did make a frantic effort to do so. As if bent upon its own destruction, the pony made a suicidal leap down the precipitous descent.

The frightened creature struck upon its feet, but immediately fell over on its right side, carrying its rider with it and pinning him under its body.

The savage beast had not lost its hold, and as Jack lay there within its deadly reach he saw for the first time that it was the most dreaded of the wild beasts of South America, the jaguar.

He had barely taken a swift glance at the furious brute before a warning growl above him broke the momentary silence and then a second form, the mate of that beside him, plunged down from the top of the cliff, landing beside the first, that uttered a fierce growl at the same time.

Jack's heart fairly stopped its beating, and finding himself unable to move his right limb, he felt that it was all over with him.

The pony had apparently been killed by its fall, together with the attack of the jaguar, as it did not move after it fell over on its side.

The ferocious beasts, with a succession of sharp growls and snarls, began to feast upon the still warm carca.s.s of the poor horse.

It was fortunate, and showed Jack's remarkable presence of mind as well, that at that critical moment he remembered that old hunters had said if one feigned death he might escape the attack of a wild beast under ordinary circ.u.mstances, the story of Dr. Livingstone lying under the lion's paw coming vividly into his mind. But his left leg lay on top of the pony's body and close to where the two jaguars were exercising their teeth and claws on the flesh.

That morning before starting from Resaca he had put on a pair of boots with stout tops as a means of protection from the bushes and brambles he might encounter on his long ride. But he could not hope these would protect him long, if at all, from the attacks of the voracious brutes.

Words cannot describe his feelings as he lay there listening to the ominous growls and crunching of the hungry animals, expecting every moment to feel their sharp teeth in his own flesh.

Two or three times he felt one or the other of the jaguars push savagely against his foot, which was lifted and carried forward upon the pony's neck in their eagerness to get at the warm meat.

All of that horrible scene Jack heard and felt rather than saw, for he did not dare to open his eyes--dare to draw a full breath.

After awhile he heard one of the pair move away a short distance, and he could hear it licking its dripping chops after its feast.

Its mate continued its voracious attacks upon the carca.s.s, the grinding of its jaws and the crackling of the pony's bones making horrible sounds for the helpless boy.

When this had continued for several minutes longer, the second jaguar stopped eating and began to lick Jack's boots.

Nothing so far had equaled the horror of that sensation.

It seemed to Jack that he must go mad if it continued long!