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"He did not mention them," replied the doctor; "but his reason for not returning was that the poor fellow felt that he dared not attempt to go through the same horrors that he had encountered on his way out. He had friends with him then, but now he was alone, weak, and wanting in spirit. In fact, much as he longed to get back to civilisation, he dared not attempt the journey, but kept on putting it off for years."
"For years, eh?" said Griggs derisively.
"Yes, for years, in the hope of some travellers or prospectors accidentally discovering the place. At last, though, he seems to have wakened up to the fact that if ever he was to see civilisation again it must be by some effort of his own, and so he made the venture, to suffer terribly, and finally crawl here to die, as we have seen."
"But he told his story," said Griggs, "and I don't know, doctor, but it half seems to me as if you believe in the poor old lunatic."
"I told you in the beginning that I was somewhat disposed to credit his history."
"Oh, come, Lee," cried Wilton.
"My dear Lee," cried Bourne. "Why, this legend of treasure cities and golden mountains is as old as the hills."
"Yes, I know. I have heard it and read it time after time."
"And don't know any better now, doctor," cried Griggs. "Oh, come, I say, what is there in this story that makes you more ready to believe it than any of the others?"
"The simple fact that I have seen and talked with the historian--one who was ready to give me some tangible idea of the truth of his narration."
"Tangible?" cried Bourne.
"Yes; tangible."
"Why, he had got no specimens with him, had he?"
The doctor made no direct reply to the American's question, but went on to tell that his patient had concluded his short history by thanking him for his patient kindness.
"'My life has been a failure, doctor,' he said; 'you can make yours a great success. Mine was used up in discovering the great treasure. It was the work of years and years. You can go straight to the place by the bearings I have marked down for you as I came back. There, I give you that for which I have died, glad to be at rest. It is yours, and yours alone.'
"I tried to draw his attention to another subject," continued the doctor, but he smiled.
"'You think I am only a madman,' he said sadly. 'In your place I should have thought the same. You believe that the treasure is only in my weary brain. I am clearer now, and I can see by the way you look at me; but it is true. Take the skin belt from round my waist. It is yours.
In it you will find what I brought from the hills. There are a few ounces, but where I broke the pieces off with a lump of stone--half gold--there were tons upon tons.'
"I was not aware that he was wearing anything beneath his rags of skin, but when to satisfy him I cut through and drew away his pouch-like belt, I could feel inside it pieces of something hard."
"Gold!" cried Griggs excitedly, and the boys' eyes shone with excitement.
"I don't know," said the doctor quietly.
"What, didn't you look?" cried Wilton.
"No; the exertion he made in trying to lift himself so that I could draw away the belt was too much for him, and every thought went to the effort to revive him from his swoon; but it was all in vain, the poor fellow came to sufficiently to show that he was conscious, and caught my hand in his to draw it towards where the belt lay. He pressed my fingers round it, and then lay gazing at me wildly as I bathed his face, till I awoke to the feet that I was trying to revive the dead."
There was silence then for a few moments before Wilton spoke the words that the two boys were eager to utter.
"I'm afraid it's all the poor fellow's dream," he said. And then, "I have no hunger or thirst for gold, but I must confess to a feeling of excitement and desire to know what is in the belt."
"Open it then, and let's all see," said the doctor, and he drew what looked like the well-rubbed and stained skin of a serpent about four feet long from his jacket pocket, and laid it upon the table.
"Skin of a rattler--a copperhead, I should say," cried Griggs. "Well, not a bad idea for a cash belt. There's something hard in it anyhow,"
he continued, as the doctor let the end drop. "But I say, look here: don't open it for a few moments, because I don't want for us to be disappointed."
"I don't think we shall be," said Bourne. "It is quite possible that in his wanderings the poor fellow found gold, even if he magnified his findings in his imagination."
"That's right, parson," cried Griggs, "but you don't see my point. What I meant about being disappointed was this--supposing this long shot-belt sort of thing does hold so many nuggets of gold, what then?"
"What then?" cried Wilton. "Why, it is gold."
"To be sure; but what about finding the tons, doctor?"
"By the bearings the poor fellow mentioned," replied Chris's father.
"Right again, sir," continued the American; "but the bearings--where are they?"
Every one looked hard at the speaker in silence.
"I don't want to chuck cold water on what may mean a fortune for you, doctor,--but look here: I'm not a sailor, but I do know that when you go to find anything by the bearings you have a sort of map or chart with compa.s.s points on it, and arrows and dots and marks to guide you in the way you are to go. What about them? Had he a pocket-book anywhere?"
"Nothing of the kind," replied the doctor, "and I was surprised to find his belt."
"Then the poor chap died a bit too soon, and he's taken his secret with him, I should say."
"It seems so," said the doctor. "I had forgotten all that," and the boys drew a deep breath as they suffered each a sharp pang of disappointment.
"Well, I thought it just as well to speak out, doctor," said Griggs.
"I wish you hadn't, sir," cried Wilton angrily. "You seem to have crushed out our hopes."
"Better to know the truth and the worst at once, my dear Wilton," said Bourne.
"Oh, I don't know that," replied Wilton. "The idea of discovering tons of gold does stir one a bit."
"Hah!" sighed Chris, who was indulging in a golden dream, and he kicked out one leg under the table, involuntarily catching Ned on the side of the ankle in a way which made him utter a yell.
"Here, don't shout like that, young squire, because you're a bit disappointed," cried Griggs; and without waiting for an explanation, he continued, "Well, doctor, I vote that the belt be opened. P'r'aps, after all, these inside are only bits of glittering stuff such as some people think is gold, but which is only iron and sulphur. Anyhow, let's look."
"Open it, Wilton," said the doctor, and the former sat with his elbows on the table holding the snakeskin belt with his hands near the ends, so that they hung down over the fingers, softly lissome, while the h.o.r.n.y middle sank in a curve.
"Let's have it, squire," cried Griggs. "Go on ahead. You look as if you were making a plan for a suspension bridge over our creek when it's full of water."
"The skin seems to have been slipped off the snake by turning it over from the mouth," said Wilton, whose voice now sounded rather hoa.r.s.e.
"Those ends are wonderfully soft too, as if the skin had been well tanned."
"Not it," said Griggs; "say it was only dried in the sun, and then rubbed soft. There, let's see what is in it. Hold it up by the tail, and the nuggets'll all fall out."
Wilton did as he was told, but the nuggets--if there were any--did not fall out, for the neck of the snake had been strained and dragged out till it was thin like the tail part, and had doubtless shrunk to its present proportions after the stones or metal had been carefully placed inside. The consequence was that Wilton shook and shook in vain.