When The Jaguar Sleeps: A jungle adventure (10 page)

‘Boss, everything is just as we left it. Nothing is disturbed down here. I am sure that it could only be the Indians. Anyone else would surely have taken those golden figurines away. Frankly, no need to worry.’

At the edge of the dugout the two men armed with machine guns pushed three others carrying shovels in their hands and commanded them to start digging at the bottom of the pit.

Soon José joined them there.

Florent and Didier were standing immobile, rooted firmly to the ground like two pillars of salt, huddled in fear against a smooth, cold stone surface. Chilly air touched their bare skin and made them shudder.

‘We are in deep trouble. If they find us, they’ll think we are here to steal their treasure. They are going to kill us. Have you seen how heavily armed they are? We don’t stand a chance. We are about to die,’ whispered nervously Florent.

When they heard someone’s heavy but cautious footsteps descending the stairs, panic flooded their stomachs. Their hearts were thumping as if they were going to jump out of their chests, their hands were shaking uncontrollably, and their bodies were bathed in cold sweat. Halfway down the stairs, the footsteps stopped. A few seconds of silence followed broken by some incomprehensible shouting. Then the sound of shoe soles scraping stone returned. But luckily the footsteps retreated and soon fell silent. Was the man going to come back?

Both young men were listening for some time yet in suspense to the muffled sound of voices rebounding with a dull echo from the cave up above. Slowly, they forced themselves to calm down, to let the panic ebb away.

T
hey had no idea how long they’d been standing there, inert, not daring to move. It felt like eternity as every minute stretched on endlessly. Straining their ears they tried to detect what was happening above. They listened to a faint echo of footsteps on the stony surface, distant voices, some banging. After a while they couldn’t hear anything. Had the men retreated deeper into the cave or were they just down in the dugout? Somewhere close by drops of water, one by one, were falling down on a stone surface at perfectly measured, regular intervals; each sound, echoing drearily through the underground chamber, cut like a sharp knife through the dead silence that reigned all around.

‘What are we going to do if they stay here all night or even for a few days?’ said Florent eventually, voicing his doubts in a hoarse whisper. His earlier idea of waiting till the grave robbers leave and follow them seemed all of a sudden ridiculous and far too risky. ‘We have nothing to drink, or eat. We can’t hold out for long.’

‘Well, what do you suggest we do?’ Didier asked, visibly upset and irritated. ‘Do you still think we should wait and follow them later or maybe go out right now and put ourselves in their hands? It would be certain death. You saw what they did to the men in the village by the river. Wait, I’ll get the cigarette lighter, see where we are and if, maybe, there is another way out of here.’

The frail, shaky flame dispersed a little of the inky darkness and they could see that the chamber in which they found themselves was surrounded on three sides by walls made of smooth stone blocks. Behind them gaped the dark entrance to the passageway from which they had just come. At the centre of the room some granite structures emerged out of the shadows; they were in the shape of a trapezoid, wider at the bottom and tapering slightly towards the top. All of them were decorated with undefined sculptures and geometric shapes.

‘Tombs of the Incas,’ Florent whispered elatedly, and coming over to them he stroked the cold damp surface of the rough stones.

Meanwhile Didier kept walking, illuminating gradually all the dark corners of the chamber and looking carefully around. As he drew closer to the farthest wall a shallow cavity appeared, a kind of high rock shelf, and on it, set closely one against another, were dozens of golden objects: a variety of figurines, cups studded with emeralds, charms, necklaces, rings. Despite being covered in spider webs and a thick layer of dust, they came instantly to life in the feeble glow of the lighter, dazzling and sparkling with a myriad of tiny lights, like magical fireflies. Florent came slowly up behind Didier. Stepping closer, he reached out and touched tentatively the cold, gleaming metal surface of the ancient handicrafts. Utterly stunned, they gazed wordlessly at the treasures, a small cry of admiration finally coming involuntarily from Florent’s lips.

‘Those men up there must know about all this gold, and could come here at any moment. If they find us, they’ll kill us. I am sure of it. We have to get away as soon as possible,’ Didier whispered, recovering his self-control and soberly analysing the situation.

‘Yes, but how? What should we do?’ Florent asked.

‘Come on, let’s see where this corridor leads.’

‘Can’t we take a few of these fantastic golden items with us?’

‘No, we can’t. Too risky. First of all we must think about getting out of here alive.’

Their hopes of finding another way out, however, quickly dissipated. The corridor led to another, slightly larger, chamber. Then a couple of yards behind its entrance, was a dead-end. They stood in front of a solid black stone wall, wet and cold to the touch, disappointed and frustrated.

But a sudden rapid flapping of wings startled them, making them nearly jump. A small bat emerging from the darkness flew over their heads, almost brushing their hair. Totally surprised they stepped instinctively aside while the creature, clearly frightened by the unexpected human presence, emitted a few high-pitched squeaks and disappeared from view.

‘We’ll have to risk going back up,’ Didier whispered and extinguished the lighter. ‘Maybe they’ll all be down in the pit, so busy working that we can slip past unnoticed and escape that way from the cave. One thing is certain, we cannot stay here; there is nowhere to hide. If they come down, they’d easily catch us and kill us. This place is like a trap.’

So they retraced their steps, holding on to the dank stone walls in the pitch darkness. They moved slowly and silently, anxious not to betray their presence. After a while they heard faint voices from above. The robbers were still there, inside the cave.

They mounted the stairs and, standing in the shadow of a boulder, poked their heads cautiously out and peered anxiously into the cave. A murmur of voices and the dull thuds of pickaxes and shovels were coming from the dugout in the middle of the interior. The orange glow of a lamp illuminated part of the cave, but their side was semi-shrouded in a dark-blue twilight. The blond, tall man called Brian was sitting on a rock near the entrance to the cave. He wasn’t looking their way. To his right lay scattered what looked like a couple of back packs and sleeping bags. In front of him some food and bottled water. No other man was in sight. All were probably working down in the pit. The interior of the cave was filled with the steady sounds of pickaxes and shovels hitting the hard rocks and the ground, dully echoing from the rock walls. Didier and Florent scanned anxiously their part of the chamber mired in shadow looking for a place to hide. A few feet further down they spotted a large rocky outcropping. They could easily take cover behind it. Stealthily, they advanced towards it, pressing their backs against a cold stone wall and succeeded to reach it unnoticed a few moments later. The cave opening loomed ahead. So close but unreachable. They had to wait for the right moment.

The rhythmic striking of the pickaxes below stopped. The Indians employed to do the excavating had been ordered to bring up all the treasures from the dugout and stack them close to one of the cave walls. Fatigue began to take its toll. They trundled up and down the stairway, dragging their feet heavily, staggering at times, becoming sluggish. Rodrigo
–
the third man Brian trusted
–
was forced to urge them on and poke them in the ribs with a rifle butt. The temperature in the upper chamber of the cave grew rapidly, becoming more sultry with each passing moment. The workers were drenched in sweat, their shirts sticking uncomfortably to their backs.

Brian was keeping watch and admiring the precious objects brought from below. He fumbled in his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, putting one lazily in his mouth and lighting up. He puffed on it slowly. The air soon filled with the strong cigarette smoke. Then he heard loud thuds coming from the stairs, as if some heavy weight was bumping down each of the steps. Finally an ear-splitting wail sounded, like the cry of a wounded animal, followed by agitated voices.

He reluctantly got up and walked to the top of the stairs.

‘What is it?’ he shouted, leaning into the abyss of the dugout for an answer.

‘One of the Indian workhands had stumbled and slipped on the wet stone steps and fallen down the stairs.’

‘Is he alive?’ Brian called, quickly running down and inspecting the lifeless-looking body.

‘Yes, I think he is. I can feel his pulse,’ replied one of his comrades.

‘Well don’t stand like that being useless,’ shouted Brian, not hiding his annoyance at the delay. ‘Get him upstairs.’

Once they had lain the wounded man on the cold stones of the cave floor, he opened his eyes, his deadly pale face twisted in pain.

Between moans he said: ‘I think I broke my leg, it hurts so terribly, there . . . this . . . left one.’

Brian ordered the other men to get back to work. ‘You are not helping standing here uselessly,’ he said. ‘He just needs some peace.’

Reluctantly they left their comrade and headed slowly towards the stairs, descending once more underground. Antonio was just halfway down when he heard a gunshot behind him.

He turned around and ran back up the stairs to see what was going on. Brian stood over the injured man, lying immobile on the ground; in his right hand he held a gun, its barrel slightly smoking.

‘What . . . why . . .?’ Antonio stammered uncertainly. Brian fixed him with an intimidating gaze, staring at him with a cruel, malevolent look in his eyes. Antonio knew better than to ask any awkward questions.

‘What are you staring at? He was of no use to us, anyway, just an annoyance now. And I put him out of his misery,’ said Brian in a measured voice, piercing Antonio with his cold eyes.

‘Help me clean up the body. We’ll throw it down into the pit and cover it with soil.’

Without a word of protest Antonio did what he was told.

José told Brian about the gold artefacts and the strange stone structures in the underground of the cave. Brian, curious, decided to investigate the underground section of the cavern and told José to accompany him with a flashlight. They headed for the stairs, their careful, heavy footsteps scraping dully against the steep stone steps. When they passed close by, Didier and Florent squeezed more tightly into the narrow space behind the boulder. They managed to stay unnoticed. At the bottom, the two men followed the narrow corridor opening into two rooms on the right and on the left. Cautiously they stepped into the first room. Brian at once froze, completely flabbergasted. He just stood there inert, staring at the multitude of golden objects on the rock ledge.

‘Unbelievable, incredible,’ he managed to utter, a satisfied smile curling the corners of his lips.

Stepping closer, he reached out and stroked the treasures as if mesmerised. With a greedy gleam in his eyes, he took them one by one, feeling their weight in his hands. In the beam of the torch they sparkled and shimmered.

In the basement a flesh-penetrating damp chill emanated from the stone walls that felt startlingly sharp in the beginning, but they got used to it after a while and found it somehow a welcome change from the stifling, oppressive heat prevailing in the upper chamber of the cave.

‘Shine the flashlight over there,’ Brian ordered, pointing to one of several large stone trapezoid structures in the middle of the room. ‘This could be a tomb of somebody important.’ The granite walls were decorated with strange carved signs and figures.

‘You must break it open. I cannot wait to see what is hidden in there.’

‘In the next room there are more tombs like this one.’

‘Well, so you are going to have plenty of work in the next few days. Have you checked the whole area around the ruins if there are other similar caves in the jungle nearby?

‘Yes, I have. There are a few more, but I did not have time to explore their interiors in detail yet. I do not know if there is anything of value in them. If there is any treasure, it is well hidden. We will need a few more days and more people to be able to check everything.’

‘And this corridor, where does it lead, only to two rooms? Does it end at the wall in front of us?’

‘It seems so,’ said José, ‘though who knows? Maybe some clever mechanism opens up a secret passage somewhere in these rocks.’

‘Well, it’s clear to me that a few days is not enough to completely search everywhere,’ announced Brian ‘You will have to come back later but take good care to protect the site well during your absence. No one must learn about our discovery. For now, the men should continue to dig up above but tomorrow I want them to start opening the tombs here in the underground rooms.’

The cave continued to resonate with the steady sounds of pickaxes striking rock and of shovels turning soil. But the upper chamber stayed empty. Didier and Florent waited some more time. Nothing changed. There was nobody to be seen. This could be their last chance of escape. Desperately they began to edge towards the exit, moving stealthily, staying in the shadows.

‘We can do it. They’re at the bottom of the pit or in the underground and can’t see us,’ Didier whispered encouragingly, filled with a faint surge of hope. Florent took a few more steps then stopped, sighing deeply.

‘I just can’t stand it anymore. I must have something to drink before I continue walking. Have you seen all those bottles of water and all that food? What if we helped ourselves to some of it? I bet they won’t even notice.’

‘Too risky.’

‘Wait! I’ll fetch some.’

Before Didier had time to stop Florent, he headed briskly towards the food stocks and water on display. There he fumbled shortly about in the semi-darkness, grabbed some bread, meat, a bottle of water and a flat object lying close to it and quickly returned to where his comrade was waiting, petrified, staring at him in disbelief.

‘Here you are. Look, I’ve even found a map. I bet this site is marked on it. We will know where we are and which way we should go. Cheer up, we are saved!’ He handed the map and food to Didier who put it all in his backpack. They drank a lot of the water right on the spot, leaving only some of it for later.

‘You know, you are really nuts. Why did you do it? Why did you need to take so much risk? They could’ve seen us. We must get the hell out of here right now. They may come back from the underground any moment. We’ll be in deep shit if they discover us here. Let’s go!’ urged Didier.

Keeping close to the wall, they walked slowly at first, but then gradually accelerated their stride. They had almost made it to the exit when suddenly Florent, not noticing a large stone protruding from the uneven ground, knocked into it with his injured leg, stumbled and nearly lost his footing. He let out a shrill cry of pain.