Under the Andes - Part 15
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Part 15

"But it's sober truth, my boy. You know me; I never pose. There is nothing particularly revolting in the thought of being eaten; the disadvantage of it lies in the fact that one must die first. We all want to live; Heaven knows why. And we stand a chance.

"We know now that there is food to be had here and sufficient air. It is nearly certain that we won't get out, but that can come later. And what an experience! I know a dozen anthropologists that would give their degrees for it. I can feel myself getting enthusiastic about it."

"But what if they--they--"

"Say it. Eat us? We can fight. It will be strange if we can't outwit these vermin. And now silence; I'm going to begin. Listen hard--hard!

The brutes are noiseless, but if they are near we can hear their breathing."

"But, Paul--"

"No more talk. Listen!"

We lay silent for many minutes, scarcely breathing. Not the slightest sound reached our ears through the profound darkness; utter, intense silence. Finally I reached over and touched Harry on the shoulder, and arose to my knees.

"Good enough! We're alone. We'll have to crawl for it. Keep close behind me; we don't want to get separated. The first thing is to find a sharp stone to cut through these thongs. Feel on the ground with your hands as we go."

It was not easy to rise at all, and still harder to make any progress, for our ankles were bound together most effectively; but we managed somehow to drag ourselves along. I was in front; suddenly I felt Harry pull at my coat, and turned.

"Just the thing, Paul. Sharp as a knife. Look!"

I groped for his hand in the darkness and took from it the object he held out to me--a small flat stone with a sharp-saw edge.

"All right; let me work on you first."

I bent down to the thongs which bound his ankles. I was convinced that they were not of leather, but they were tough as the thickest hide.

Twice my overeagerness caused the tool to slip and tear the skin from my hand; then I went about it more carefully with a muttered oath.

Another quarter of an hour and Harry was free.

"Gad, that feels good!" he exclaimed, rising to his feet. "Here, Paul; where's the stone?"

I handed it to him and he knelt down and began sawing away at my feet.

What followed happened so quickly that we were hardly aware that it had begun when it was already finished.

A quick, pattering rush of many feet warned us, but not in time.

Hurtling, leaping bodies came at us headlong through the air and crushed us to the ground, buried beneath them, gasping for breath; there must have been scores of them. Resistance was impossible; we were overwhelmed.

I heard Harry give a despairing cry, and the scuffle followed; I myself was utterly helpless, for the thongs which bound my ankles had not been cut through. Not a sound came from our a.s.sailants save their heavy, labored breathing.

I remember that, even while they were sitting on my head and chest and body, I noted their silence with a sort of impersonal curiosity and wondered if they were, after all, human. Nor were they unnecessarily violent; they merely subdued us, rebound our wrists and ankles more tightly than before, and departed.

But--faugh! The unspeakable odor of their hairy bodies is in my nostrils yet.

"Are you hurt, Paul?"

"Not a bit, Harry lad. How do you like the perfume?"

"To the deuce with your perfume! But we're done for. What's the use?

They've lived in this infernal hole so long they can see in the dark better than we can in the light."

Of course he was right, and I was a fool not to have thought of it before and practised caution. The knowledge was decidedly unpleasant.

No doubt our every movement was being watched by a hundred pairs of eyes, while we lay helpless in the darkness, bound even more tightly than before.

"Look here," said Harry suddenly, "why can't we see their eyes? Why don't they shine."

"My dear boy," said I, "in this darkness you couldn't see the Kohinoor diamond if it were hanging on your nose, drawing-room travelers to the contrary notwithstanding. We have one advantage--they can't understand what we say, but they even up for it by not saying anything."

There was a short silence, then Harry's voice:

"Paul--"

"Well?"

"I wonder--do you think Desiree--" He hesitated, his voice faltering.

"I think the same as you do," said I.

"But I don't know--after all, there is a chance. Just a bare chance, isn't there?"

"You know as well as I do, Harry. The chances are a million to one that Desiree--thank Heaven--has escaped all this! And isn't that best!

Would you have her here with us?"

"No--no. Only--"

"Lying here, bound hand and foot? She would make a dainty morsel for our friends."

"For the Lord's sake, Paul--"

"Well, let us forget her--for the present. Nor do we want to make a dainty morsel if we can help it. Come, brace up, Hal. It's up to us to turn a trick."

"Well?"

"I don't know why I didn't think of it before. I guess we were both too dazed to have good sense. What have you got strapped to your belt?"

"A gun," said Harry. "Of course I thought of that. But what good is it after that ducking? And I have only six cartridges."

"Nothing else?"

I could almost feel his silent gaze; then suddenly he cried out:

"A knife!"

"At last!" said I sarcastically. "And so have I. A six-inch, double-edged knife, sharp as a razor and pointed like a needle. They didn't have sense enough to search us, and we didn't have sense enough to realize it. I can feel mine under me now against the ground."

"But they'll see us."

"Not if we use a decent amount of caution. The trouble is, I can't reach my knife with my wrists bound. There's only one way. Lie perfectly still; let them think we've given it up. I'm going to try something."

I drew up my knees, twisted over on the hard rock, and lay flat on my belly. Then I drew up my hands and let my face rest on them, like a dog with his head on his paws. And then, keeping my body perfectly still, and with as little movement of the jaws as possible, I sought the tough thongs with my teeth.