In Search of El Dorado. Harry Collingwood
the Platonic, sir. Arrived ’bout three hours ago. And the Cotopaxi—belongin’ to your own company—and the Nigerian, they’re lyin’ about half a mile off to starboard of us. They comed up pretty near together, ’bout two hours ago, and all of ’em lowered their boats straight away. Don’t know exactly what luck they’ve had. They’ve picked up a good many, I b’lieve, but I’m afraid very few of em’ll be alive after floatin’ about so many hours in the cold. Clothes genle’men? Yes, certainly. They’re in the dryin’ room. I dessay they’re quite dry by this time. I’ll fetch ’em for ye in a brace of shakes.”
“How are the others getting on, steward?” demanded Earle. “You picked up everybody from the boats, I suppose? What with them and your regular passengers, the ship must be like a rabbit warren!”
“So she is, sir,” grinned the steward. “They’re scattered about all over her. We make up shake-downs for ’em wherever we could find a blessed inch of space. They’re in the smoke-room, the ladies’ boodwor, the lib’ry, the drorin’-room, dinin’ saloon, the officers’ quarters, and—why, some of the men is even down in the stokeholds. Oh yes, we took ’em all aboard, of course. But I expect we shall thin ’em out a good bit presently. Ye see they was all bound for Noo York, and the Platonic and Nigerian are both goin’ there, so I expect they’ll take the bulk of ’em between ’em. And if there’s any as wants to go back home, the Cotopaxi and us’ll take ’em. I haven’t heard how they’re feelin’ after their spell in the boats, but I reckon they’re all right. That wasn’t no very great hardship for ’em, exceptin’ for the kiddies. They was a bit frightened, naterally. And now, if you’ll excuse me, gen’lemen, I’ll go and get your clothes, for there’ll be a lot to do presen’ly.”
There was. For after the entire area of the surrounding sea had been carefully swept by the boats until it was ascertained that no more living or dead were to be found, there came the task of providing breakfast for everybody, in itself a task of no small magnitude under the circumstances. And while the meal was in progress, the officers of the Bolivia were going round among the rescued people, carefully noting the names of the survivors for transmission to England and America by wireless. Then followed the gruesome task of identifying such of the dead as had been found; after which came the separation of those who wished to go on to New York from those who wished to return to England, this in turn being followed by the trans-shipment of the rescued in accordance with the arrangement come to by a council composed of the captains of the rescuing ships.
As for Dick, it scarcely needed the interview which he had with Captain Wilson, of the Cotopaxi, to decide him to return to England in that ship. It was, indeed, the only thing for him to do; he had no business in New York; while, on the other hand, there would, of course, be a judicial inquiry into the circumstances connected with the loss of the Everest, at which his presence, as the sole surviving officer of the ship, would be imperatively required. He communicated his decision to Earle immediately that the question was raised, and was surprised, and not a little pleased, when the American announced his intention to also return to England.
“You see,” the latter explained, “my only, or at least my principal, reason for going to New York fizzled out when the Everest took my collection of hunting trophies with her to the bottom of the Atlantic. If I went on to New York there would be nothing for me to do, while I have a scheme in my head that can be worked out in Europe as well as, or better than, in New York. Besides, to be quite frank with you, Cavendish, I’ve taken a very strong liking for you altogether, apart from the fact that you saved my life, and I guess I don’t want to lose sight of you. And I’ll tell you why. If this scheme of mine—which I have had in my mind for a long time—should eventuate, as I guess it will, I shall want you to take a hand in it. You are exactly the sort of young fellow that I have been looking for, and I guess I can make it quite worth your while to chip in with me. But I won’t say any more about it just now—there will be plenty of time to talk matters over later on. Now let us go ahead and get aboard the Cotopaxi.”
It was well on toward noon of that day before all the arrangements made were completed, and the several ships proceeded towards their respective destinations. But long before that the wireless operators had been busily engaged in transmitting the intelligence of the disaster to the two hemispheres; and by the time that the ships were dipping their ensigns to each other in farewell the newsboys of Europe and America were charging through the streets of hundreds of cities and towns, yelling in a dozen different languages, “Spechul edition! Wreck of the Everest! Fearful loss of life! Full partic’lars and list of the saved! Spechul!”
It was not until the Fastnet lighthouse showed above the horizon on the Cotopaxi’s port bow that Earle reverted to the topic of his “scheme,” although there had been ample opportunity for him to do so during the eastward run, he having privately so arranged matters with the purser that he and Cavendish were berthed in the same cabin during the voyage. But for reasons best known to himself he had devoted the opportunity thus afforded him to elicit as much as he possibly could of Dick’s previous history; and Dick, open and candid as the day, and with nothing to conceal, had told a great deal more than perhaps some people would have considered quite prudent; so that when the Fastnet hove in sight, Earle knew practically all that there was to know about Dick, including even the fact that the latter had a sister, who, Earle gathered, from a number of cursory and incidental remarks, must be a girl very well worth knowing.
On this particular morning, however, when, after breakfast, the pair snugly ensconced themselves in a couple of deck chairs on the boat deck, which just then happened to be clear of other occupants than themselves, Earle suddenly broke ground with:
“Say! Cavendish, have you ever heard of the city of Manoa?”
“The City of Manoa!” repeated Dick. “Is she a steamer, or a sailing ship? I know the City of Paris, of course, and the—”
“No, no,” interrupted Earle with a laugh. “Can’t you get ships out of your head anyway? I’m not talking now about a ship, but about a genuine sure-’nough city, the Golden City of Manoa, to be precise. Ever heard of it?”
“Can’t say I have,” returned Dick, “excepting, of course, the fabled city of that name, supposed to be ruled over by a certain El Dorado, who was so enormously rich that he used to gild himself—”
“Exactly,” agreed Earle. “That’s the guy. And it is his city that I am trying to talk to you about. You—in common with almost everybody else—speak of it as the ‘fabled’ city, because, although it has been much talked about and eagerly sought, the fact that it was actually found has never been conclusively demonstrated. The story of its existence originated of course with those old Spanish conquistadors who, under that king of freebooters, Pizarro, conquered the Incas, and thereby amassed incalculable wealth. You have, of course, heard the story of his treacherous capture of the Inca Atahualpa, and of how the latter, having noticed the Spaniard’s greed of gold, offered to ransom himself by filling with gold to as high as a man could reach, the room in which he was confined. That offer it was that seems to have fully opened the eyes of Pizarro and his followers to the enormous potential wealth of the country; and when, through their treacherous murder of Atahualpa, they had to a considerable extent cut off from themselves the supply of further enormous contributions, they naturally began to hunt about for the source of the wealth that had already fallen into their hands.
“It was through the inquiries thus instituted that the story of El Dorado and his golden city first came to their ears. They were told that far away in the north there lived a people called the Chibchas, a people as civilised as, and far more wealthy than, the Incas. They were given to understand that the Chibcha country abounded not only in gold but also in gems, especially emeralds, and in illustration of the bounteousness of this wealth certain customs of the Chibchas were described. The particular custom which gave rise to the legend of El Dorado was that which was observed on the occasion of the accession of a new monarch to the throne; and it was carried out somewhat after this fashion:—
“The proceedings began with elaborate religious ceremonies,