Stratemeyer Edward
Young Hunters in Porto Rico: or, The Search for a Lost Treasure

CHAPTER XV
A LIVELY FIGHT WITH A SERPENT

"A snake!"

"Kill it, somebody!"

"Run, before it strikes you!"

Such were some of the cries which rang out, as all started to secure places of comparative safety.

Then a pistol shot rang out. The report came from old Jacob's weapon, but the bullet passed over the serpent's head.

By this time all had crowded to the edge of the little opening.

Behind them was a series of jagged rocks, the climbing of which would be no easy task. In front was a cliff overlooking the valley, and on one side were heavy bushes.

The only escape, therefore, lay to their left. But here was where the snake had located itself, as if to make them prisoners.

"We're in a pickle," groaned Dick, as he drew his own pistol. Bang! went the weapon, and the bullet clipped the reptile's tail.

The wound enraged the serpent, and it slashed right and left with pain. Then it raised its head once more and darted straight for Dick.

Its eyes blazed like twin diamonds, and it may truthfully be said that for a moment the owner of the Dashaway was dazed.

But now a most unexpected thing happened.

Dash had wandered off in the brush and been forgotten.

He leaped into view with a bound and coming up behind the snake caught it in the neck with his strong teeth.

There was a grating sound, and the head of the snake twisted painfully and then dropped limply.

"Good for Dash!" cried Don, and rushing up, he fired his pistol at the snake's body, literally cutting it in half.

Then Dash dropped the quivering body, and to settle matters, Robert Menden crushed the head with a sharp stone.

It was several minutes before anybody recovered his former composure.

"Dash am de greatest dog wot ever lived!" cried Danny, and hugged the canine around the neck. At this Dash wagged his tail furiously, as though he understood perfectly. But strange to say, now the snake was dead, the dog could not be coaxed to go anywhere near it.

"He knew we were in danger," declared Bob. "Otherwise you couldn't have hired him to tackle a thing like that," and the others were forced to admit that this must be so.

No one wanted to remain in that locality, so they set off once more without further delay. The road was now steeper than before, and by the time Caguas came into sight, everybody was fagged out and glad to think that traveling for that day had come to an end.

The appearance of the town was a disappointment to them. Caguas contains but five thousand inhabitants, mostly Caribbean negroes, and there are only a few buildings of fair size. The other shelters are mere huts, stretching along irregular streets, which are dirty in themselves and piled high with the refuse of years.

"The people here must be dirt poor," observed Don. "Gracious! I never thought to see such poverty – and with so much good land around that might be cultivated."

"Many of the folks won't work, no matter how hard ye drive 'em," answered old Jacob. "They live by stealin' their neighbors' fruit, and when they want anything from San Juan or Ponce they go into the woods, pick a bag or two o' cocoanuts, and take 'em along on a pony to trade with."

"Which goes to prove that it's not a good thing for nature to provide a man with too easy a living," laughed Dick. "Real labor would be the making of lots of these natives."

To find proper accommodations in Caguas was not an easy matter. There was a small hotel, but this had been visited by fire and no rooms were to be had there.

"I will take you in," said a native, who met them. "My house is the cleanest in the village, señors. Come;" and they followed him almost to the outskirts.

The native's name was Carlos Remora, and all found him "a pretty decent sort of a fellow," to use Robert Menden's manner of expressing it. He was a heavy-set mulatto and spoke very fair English.

"I travel to Florida once," he said, with much pride. "I show a man how to raise oranges. Stay dare two years, den come back here."

"Why didn't you remain in Florida?" queried Don.

"Wife no like it dare – she have all her family here. But now wife dead and Carlos Remora alone in de worl'."

As they had agreed to pay him well, the native provided an excellent supper, baking among other things some delicious cakes made of banana flour, with grated cocoanut on top.

There were but two rooms to his house, which was only a single story in height. He occupied one, with Danny and old Jacob, while the others of the party occupied the second.

But sleep was next to impossible. The house was certainly clean, so far as dirt was concerned, but it was alive with bugs, ants and other insects, for this portion of Porto Rico is overrun with these pests.

"Oh my!" roared Don, after he had been in bed less than an hour. "I'm being eaten up alive!"

"Ditto," came from Bob. He turned up the light. "What's this on the floor, spots of dirt? No, by gracious, they're moving! And look at the beds!"

"We've struck a bug colony!" put in Dick. "I reckon we're in for it for the balance of this night."

"I'm going outside and sleep on the ground," announced Leander. "If I stay here I'll get the nightmare, sure. Ugh!" And slipping on his trousers, he made a dash for the open air, and the others followed. Soon the owner of the house was aroused, but he could do nothing for them.

"My house best house in Caguas," he said, simply. "Nobody can stop de bugs an' ants. Must let dem run," and he went back to bed. The boys and Robert Menden shook out their blankets and tried to get some sleep outside, under the trees, but were not very successful, and were glad enough when the rising sun announced another day at hand.

"And now for the treasure cave!" whispered Dick to Robert Menden, and the Englishman smiled and squeezed his hand in silence. The two had taken a great liking to each other from the very start.

Robert Menden had been talking confidentially with the native, and had come to the conclusion that the man could be thoroughly trusted. He now asked Remora if he knew anything of the caves.

"I have seen a part of the Dark Cave, which is on a plantation six miles from here," he said. "It is a bad place – nobody go dare for fun."

"And what of the other caves?" asked the Englishman.

"Udder caves little way off, all bad – no Porto Ricans go dare. Once two men go; one break leg, udder get eye knocked out by somebody in de cave."

"Got his eye knocked out!"

"Yes, señor. He in dark, when baf! something strike, an' he lose his eye. Werry bad place – better you not go down."

"Certainly we don't want to lose our eyes," was the Englishman's comment. "But will you take us to the entrance to the different caves? We will pay you for your trouble."

At first Carlos Remora demurred, but finally, when offered a dollar a day for his services by Dick, he consented to go along, and also agreed to take along enough provisions to last the whole party several days.

"Many tourists come on horseback," he said. "But the way is safer on foot. Horse may throw you in a hole."

Being assured that the climb up into the mountains would be a difficult one, they took their time in making their preparations for the departure. Bob had torn his coat and this was sewn up before leaving.

Leander was the only one to grow impatient, and stalked around urging the others to hurry. Then he started up the road alone.

He had not yet passed out of sight when they heard him utter a shout.

"What's up?" called out Dick.

"Come here – somebody is in trouble!" returned Leander, and then the whole party set off to see what was the matter.

CHAPTER XVI
THE EXPOSURE OF THE MIDNIGHT VISITOR

Leander had seen a man lying on the road on his back. Evidently the fellow was unconscious.

Over the form bent another man, and it was none other than Bumbum, the Carib who had taxed Leander and Dick ten dollars for pulling them from the hole.

As Leander uttered his shout, Bumbum raised his head, and then shook his fist at the youth.

But Leander was undaunted, and ran forward to detain the Carib until the others might arrive on the spot.

But Bumbum was not to be caught thus easily, and when Leander grabbed him by the arm, he struck fiercely at the boy and then tore himself loose.

"Where is he?" came from Bob.

"There he goes – the fellow who took the ten dollars from Dick and me."

"And who is this man?"

"I don't know, but I think the Carib knocked him down."

At once a rush was made to the spot where Bumbum had disappeared, and the wood and brush was searched thoroughly for a distance of ten or fifteen rods.

In the meantime Robert Menden had come up, and was gazing in open-mouthed wonder at the man lying in the road.

"Joseph Farvel!" he gasped. "What a meeting!"

"Is this Joseph Farvel, your enemy?" ejaculated Bob.

"The very same, lad. I wonder if he is dead?"

"I don't think so. But he got a bad crack on the head, that's certain."

Joseph Farvel lay in a slight hollow on the road. He had been hit over the left eye by some blunt instrument, probably a club, and the blood was pouring copiously from the wound.

Forgetting that this sour-faced man was his worst enemy, Robert Menden whipped out his handkerchief, soaked it in a nearby pool of water, and bound it about Farvel's head. Then he and old Jacob carried the sufferer to a shady spot under a tree.

In the meantime the others gathered around, and then Don uttered a cry.

"Bob's knife!"

He was right; there lay the knife beside the spot where Joseph Farvel had rested.

"It's mine, sure enough," said Bob, as he looked the blade over. He gazed at Robert Menden. "Do you think it was this Joseph Farvel who entered our room?"

"Great Cæsar! Perhaps."

"I believe it was that Bumbum," put in Dick. "I remember now that he cast longing glances at my pocketbook when I paid him that second five dollars. He is a regular brigand – or rather, a common sneak thief and footpad – and he probably tackled this Farvel for what he could get out of the fellow."

"I reckon as how Dick is right," was old Jacob's comment. He turned to the Englishman. "What do ye think is best to do concerning your enemy?"

Robert Menden thought for a moment.

"I don't want to leave him to die here," he said slowly. "That wouldn't be human. Cannot some of your party watch over him until he comes around, while I get out of sight?"

This was decided upon, and after some more conversation on the point, Robert Menden hurried on, accompanied by Dick, Don and Bob, leaving Leander, Danny, old Jacob and the Porto Rican behind.

It was fully half an hour ere Joseph Farvel showed any signs of returning to consciousness. In the meantime those around the man made him as comfortable as circumstances permitted.

At last he opened his eyes and sat up.

"Where – what's the matter?" he asked, in a cold, disagreeable voice.

"You were struck down on the road," answered Leander. "Don't you remember?"

"I – yes, I remember being hit from over the shoulder. Who did it?"

"A native – we caught sight of him running away," put in old Jacob. "I don't believe you are seriously hurt, though."

"I don't know." Joseph Farvel gave a deep groan. "What beastly luck I'm having, to be sure! Did the native rob me?"

"You'll have to find that out for yourself," answered Leander. "We don't know what is in your pockets."

With some difficulty Joseph Farvel went through first one pocket and then another, and then he gave another groan.

"My purse is gone – and it contained over eight pounds!"

"You certainly had hard luck," was old Jacob's comment. "Where are you bound?"

"To the next village. I was – ah – roaming about these mountains, but I'm rather sick of it."

"The mountains seem to be very nice," observed Leander, dryly. "We are taking a look around, too."

"Indeed! Found anything of special interest?"

"No."

"It's a beastly island, and I shan't stay here long." Joseph Farvel staggered to his feet. "My head swims like a top!"

"I would remain resting for awhile," said Leander. "You are not strong enough yet."

"My boy, you don't know me. I'm stronger than you think for." The sufferer turned to Carlos Remora. "How far to Caguas?"

"Less than two miles, señor."

"I can easily make that before noon, and I might as well travel before it gets too hot."

"You may be attacked again," said Leander.

"I'll be on my guard, and if I am, I'll shoot the rascal. I am much obliged for what you did for me."

"That's all right."

"Always ready to help a gentleman in distress," observed Danny, with a wink behind Farvel's back at Leander.

"That's all right. So you are bound for the mountains. Beware of the holes, or caves, as some of the natives call them."

"We have this man with us as a guide," said Leander.

"Indeed! Well, take care, that's all I have to say, and good-bye to you," and so speaking, Joseph Farvel staggered off, but at a rapid gait.

"He certainly has grit," whispered Leander. "He's a bad man to have for an enemy. What wicked eyes!"

"Jest so," said old Jacob. "He wouldn't hesitate to heave a man overboard, an' I know it. Menden must keep his weather eye open."

The party resumed their march up the mountain side, and at the first turn joined the others behind a large, projecting rock.

The Englishman listened with interest to all that they had to tell.

"I'd give a good bit to know if he has discovered anything," he observed. "Being in such a hurry to get to Caguas makes me a little suspicious. Perhaps he has located the treasure, and now wants to make arrangements for getting it away."

"He can't have been here so very long," put in Don. "We came through as fast as we were able."

"I told you he would want to put his hands on that gold as soon as he could. But come, there is no use in wasting time here."

Up and up they went, along a twisting and turning trail, now broad, and then again so narrow, that Dick wondered how a horse might find his way without slipping. Yet the native assured him that horses sometimes came that way with heavy burdens on their backs.

"Da get use to it, señor," he added. "But him bad – sometimes fall an' go dead." And Dick believed him.

The first range passed, they began to descend into a valley. Here the oranges, bananas and other tropical fruit grew in profusion, and in the brush could be seen numerous wild coffee berries just turning a beautiful red. The boys tasted them, to find them very bitter; "not a bit like cooked coffee," as Don put it.

"It's the ripeness and roasting that brings out the flavor," said Robert Menden.

Presently they came to a mountain torrent, all of twenty feet wide and ten to twelve feet deep. There was no bridge, but a large palm tree lay from bank to bank, and over this they made their way, one following the other.

"What about horses here?" questioned Leander. "You don't mean to say they walk this sort of a tight-rope."

"No, horses go up de water and walk on rocks," answered Carlos Remora.

Danny was the last to set foot on the tree, the others being some distance ahead. He was over the very center of the stream when a large bird, flying from some nearby bushes directly past his face, startled him. He uttered a yell, and turning around, the others were just in time to see him slip from the tree and disappear with a splash into the swirling stream below.

CHAPTER XVII
IN WHICH DANNY IS RESCUED

"Danny has fallen into the river!"

"Danny! Danny! can you save yourself?"

"The little fellow will be drowned!"

"He shan't be drowned, not if I can help it," burst out Bob. He had not forgotten how Danny had saved him from harm, while they were skating on the lake at home the winter before.

He sprang toward Carlos Remora, who carried over his shoulder one of the long ropes which Robert Menden had requested should be taken along, for possible use in the caves to be visited.

At one end was a loose noose, and holding this in readiness, he ran some distance below the spot where the Irish lad had disappeared.

The others followed him, but Dick thoughtfully took to the other side of the watercourse, thinking that perhaps he might be able to render additional assistance from that point.

All realized Danny's peril. His friends knew that he could swim, but swimming would be of small help in that rushing, roaring torrent, with its sharp rocks and snags of fallen trees. Should his head strike on one of the rocks they felt that all would be over.

The banks of the stream were several feet high, of broken stones and black dirt, and to get down to the water's edge was not easy.

Yet Bob was undaunted and leaped straight down, at the risk of a broken or twisted ankle. Danny must be rescued at any cost.

"Danny! Where are you?"

One and another uttered the cry, but no answer came back. The truth was, that the Irish lad had been carried so far under that his head had struck, and now he was more than half unconscious and unable to do more than gasp for breath, and that meant to merely take in water.

"There he is!"

It was Don who uttered the cry. He pointed to the center of the stream, where a fallen tree projected several feet over the surface.

The Irish boy was struggling between the half decayed branches, but was too weak to clear himself.

"He's going to drown as sure as fate!" muttered old Jacob. "Perhaps I had better go in fer him!"

"No, no; I'll go in!" cried Bob, and slipped the rope around his waist. In a second more he had entered the water, which at this point boiled in a milky-white foam.

At the shore it was not over three feet deep, yet he found that it was all he could do to keep his feet. The bottom was of rock, worn smooth by constant rubbing. Out and out he went, foot by foot, until half the distance to the fallen tree was covered.

He was now up to his armpits, and could no longer keep his footing. With a dash he set out to swim the remainder of the distance.

Never had brave Bob undertaken a more difficult task. As though he were a feather, the force of the current carried him downward until he was almost past the extreme end of the half-sunken tree.

A wild splash and one hand caught the last branch. At first it looked as if he would be torn loose. But he held on like grim death, and slowly, but surely, pulled himself closer to where Danny rested.

"Oh, Bob, save me; please do!"

The Irish boy's words were scarcely intelligible. He had raised himself up so that his head was clear, but could do no more, and was in immediate danger of sinking back again.

"I'll save you, Danny; keep your courage," was Bob's reply, and coming closer, the youth drew the Irish lad still further up, to a point of temporary safety.

Old Jacob and several of the others had caught hold of the end of the rope, which Bob had left with them. Now the rope was entangled about the half-sunken tree, and the boy had his hands full in trying to disengage it and support Danny at the same time.

"Be careful, Bob, or you'll both go down!" shouted Robert Menden. "That tree may not be as secure as you imagine."

The Englishman had scarcely spoken when there came a dull crack, and the upper portion of the tree turned over and disappeared from view, to emerge again twenty feet below the spot.

Bob and Danny were hurled headlong, and, caught in the foaming and raging torrent, went over and over.

"Pull on that rope!" yelled Dick, and plunged in to the rescue of his two friends.

The three boys came together at a spot where a small rock appeared several inches above the foam. All had hold of the rope, but Bob and Dick had to support the Irish lad between them, for he was on the point of becoming totally unconscious.

The others pulled upon the rope with might and main, and slowly but surely the human freight came shoreward, at a point some distance below where old Jacob and the others stood.

At last they were at a point where the water was not over three feet deep, and Bob and Dick staggered out to a grassy spot and deposited Danny on his back.

The Irish lad's eyes were closed and he did not move.

"He's full of water, I reckon!" cried old Jacob, and forthwith began to roll the boy, and then held him up by the ankles. By this means Danny got rid of considerable of the element he had swallowed; but it was a good hour before he came to his senses, and then he was so weak, that travelling, so far as he was concerned, was out of the question.

A consultation was held, and it was decided that Bob, Dick and Danny should remain near the river until nightfall, when Carlos Remora would bring the rest of the party back, unless, of course, something of importance was discovered.

The boys were left some provisions and their firearms, and soon Don, Leander and the others were out of sight.

As the three who had been in the stream were sopping wet, it was decided by them to take off their clothing and let it dry by hanging on some bushes in the hot sun.

In the meantime Dick built a small fire and made a pot of hot coffee, of which all partook with great satisfaction, along with several sandwiches.

"Sure an' I t'ought I was a goner," said Danny, when he felt strong enough to speak. "My, but don't dat river run fast!"

"In a place like this, one has to have all his wits about him," answered Dick.

"I'll have me wits about me when I cross another tree bridge, dat's as sure as yer born," concluded Danny.

Among the articles they carried, the boys had several fishing lines, and while Danny rested, Bob and Dick baited with some land crabs they succeeded in catching, and threw into the stream to try their luck.

"I've got a bite!" cried Bob, a half minute later, and drew in his haul, a tiny brown fish weighing not over three or four ounces. "Not worth anything," he muttered, disappointedly.

A short while later Dick felt a jerk, and at once his line began to leave his hand rapidly. "Something big," he cried, and played his catch as skillfully as he could. Inside of five minutes the fish was landed – a speckled beauty of at least three pounds. It was no wonder that Dick was quite proud of it.

But fish were not plentiful in that stream, and at the end of two hours they gave up the sport, each having caught two of fair size and several little things besides.

"Dat fish would taste mighty fine baked on a red-hot stone," said Danny; and to please the Irish lad, Bob proceeded to start up the fire, and soon a fish was done to a turn. It was the largest of the mess, but their appetites were good and they ate all there was of it.

Toward sunset they began to look forward to the return of the others, but nobody put in an appearance, and once the great orb of day went down, it grew dark rapidly.

"I hope they return," observed Dick; and growing a trifle anxious, he walked from the hollow and up the road the party under Remora had taken.

He was gone fully quarter of an hour and came back in considerable excitement.

"I just caught sight of that Joseph Farvel," he announced. "He is on the other side of the stream with two negroes, and the three are making their way toward the tree bridge."