<h2 id="c16"><span class="small">CHAPTER XVI</span> <br/>Surrounded!</h2>
<p>From the great central room, Joe Nara led his companions
down through a maze of shafts and tunnels.
Each passage joined with another, and frequently the
links were steep steps worn smooth by the feet of
native miners, hundreds of years before.</p>
<p>At intervals, daylight showed through shafts that
had been driven down through the mountain to tap a
vein of gold. Always, the passages led finally into
new corridors that glittered with rich ore. At last, a
long straight tunnel brought the party out on the far
side of the mountain, hundreds of feet below the
starting level.</p>
<p>The slope was gradual here, featured by dirt gullies
leading down to a grassy valley, with the jungle beyond.
As they followed the bed of one dry stream,
Joe Nara pointed to the sparkle in its sands.</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_138">138</div>
<p>“That’s where I’ve picked up some of these,” he
chuckled, bringing some small gold nuggets from his
pocket and displaying them in his open hand. “But
mostly I find them up some of the smaller stream
beds. The gold just kind of oozes out of the mountain.”</p>
<p>Near the bottom of the slope was a shallow depression
that nestled like a bowl in the curve of the
mountainside.</p>
<p>“That’s where the lake was,” declared Nara. “The
lake where El Dorado used to take a dip and come
out all covered with gold. It’s dried up, now, but
there’s still plenty of gold down in those sands.”</p>
<p>Mr. Brewster studied the lake bed carefully. Biff
saw his father look beyond, as though following a
sandy course that led down to the grassy area that
fringed the jungle.</p>
<p>“You are probably right,” Mr. Brewster told Nara.
“The lake was artificially formed, and once the dam
was broken, the water found its way down into the
jungle.”</p>
<p>“And it joined a stream there,” added Nara, “as
I’ll show you. Do you know why this all happened?”
Tilting his head, he darted one of his birdlike glances
at Whitman, then back to Mr. Brewster. “I’ll tell you
why. When the Indians found that the Spaniards and
the English were going after El Dorado as well as
after each other, they closed up shop.</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_139">139</div>
<p>“That’s what they did. Just closed up shop. They
busted the dam and got rid of the lake, so nobody
could find it. They covered over all the shafts so nobody
could find them either. They started rumors
about El Dorado being somewhere else, to send all
the explorers on a wild-goose chase. Then they kept
guard over the real El Dorado to scare away anybody
who stumbled on it by mistake.”</p>
<p>“All quite logical,” agreed Mr. Brewster. “That is
the way the Indians would act.” He turned to Whitman
and asked: “You agree, don’t you, Hal?”</p>
<p>“I agree,” nodded Whitman. “<i>Now</i> I know why
Nara showed us those shrunken heads. He did want
to scare our bearers so they would run back to Santa
Isabel. But it was because his Wai Wais would have
made trouble if we brought a strange tribe here.”</p>
<p>“They made trouble enough as it was,” declared
Nara, with a dry chuckle. Then, turning to Mr.
Brewster, he said, “Let’s see what’s left of that map
Lew Kirby gave you. Then we can figure what to do
next.”</p>
<p>Mr. Brewster produced the torn corner from the
map. It showed the mine, the stream bed, the lake, and
the trail that continued into the jungle, where it
reached a river that was marked on the map.</p>
<p>“The route is an easy one,” stated Nara, “as you
can see. But first, I want you to estimate the value of
the mine. Then pick out the ore you want, so we can
take it to the river. From there, we will go downstream
to the Casiquiare Canal and work our way
through to the Orinoco River.”</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_140">140</div>
<p>They camped that night beneath the trees that
fringed the jungle. The next day, Mr. Brewster returned
to the mine and studied it in detail. They
stayed in the same camp another night and on the
following day, the Indians brought down loads of ore
that Mr. Brewster had selected.</p>
<p>Those loads were carried several miles through the
jungle to the river that Nara had mentioned. Biff and
Kamuka helped make a new camp there. Then they
swam in the river while they waited for the Indians
to bring the packs. The water was very clear, and the
boys brought up handfuls of glittering sand from the
bottom. When Mr. Brewster saw it, he commented:</p>
<p>“There’s a fortune in gold to be dredged from this
stream. But we still have the problem of getting it
down the Orinoco.”</p>
<p>Joe Nara had the answer to that problem. His Indians
showed up with a small flotilla of odd-looking
craft that resembled the <i>monterias</i> of the Amazon.
Nearly thirty feet long, each boat had an open cockpit
at the front with a thatched cupola at the stern,
serving as a sort of cabin.</p>
<p>Nara’s boats were different, however, from the
more antiquated river craft. His boats were low in
the stern, so that the big steering paddle could be replaced
by a sizable outboard motor. Nara had such
motors and the gasoline to fuel them.</p>
<p>“Every trip I made downriver,” explained Nara,
“either over the mountain and down the Rio Negro,
or down this stream to the Orinoco, I bought motors
and gasoline and brought them back here. I knew that
some day, Lew Kirby would talk some company into
a big deal for our mine.</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_141">141</div>
<p>“What’s more, I knew the first thing they would
ask would be if they could transport either the gold
or the ore once they mined it. My answer is, yes, and
I’ve got the boats to prove it—and the motors, too.
I’ve kept them for a long time.”</p>
<p>Judging by the appearance of the motors, that was
true. Some were twenty years old, but all proved
serviceable when attached to the loaded boats. The
four boats that formed the strange flotilla started out
at a slow but steady speed down the narrow jungle
river that marked the first stage of a long, adventurous
journey.</p>
<p>Each boat carried a crew of three. Biff and Kamuka
were in one boat with Mr. Brewster. Jacome and a
Wai Wai Indian were in another with Hal Whitman.
The third boat was Nara’s, with Igo and Ubi as its
crew. The fourth, which served as a kitchen boat
and carried the food supply, was manned by three
Wai Wai tribesmen.</p>
<p>The packs, which included tents and other equipment,
were in the boats commanded by Mr. Brewster
and Mr. Whitman. The ore from the mine was mostly
in Nara’s boat, which squatted lower in the water due
to its added weight. But it maintained the same speed
as the other craft for the simple but sufficient reason
that Nara had equipped it with the largest of his
old-model motors.</p>
<p>The containers of gasoline were distributed among
the boats, and all were careful not to waste any of
the precious fuel. At times, they used the oars or let
the current carry them. When they encountered channels
that were narrow or shallow, they poled the
boats through.</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_142">142</div>
<p>They were deep in the jungle when the river
opened into a fair-sized lake, where Nara pulled his
boat alongside of Mr. Brewster’s, to check the map
again.</p>
<p>“This is one of the lagoons that connects with the
Casiquiare Canal,” explained Nara. “Actually, the
Casiquiare is an overflow from the Orinoco that
reaches the headwaters of the Rio Negro, forming a
link with the Amazon. But sometimes the canal backs
up and flows the wrong way. The important thing is
that it is always navigable, clear to the Orinoco.”</p>
<p>The job now was to work from one lagoon to another,
through channels that would have been shown
on the missing portion of Kirby’s map. Nara knew the
route from memory, and fortunately he had been over
it several times. But he still had trouble picking his
way through a lot of lesser channels, and at times he
called upon Mr. Brewster to check the course by
compass.</p>
<p>“Taking a boat through a jungle,” declared Nara,
“is just like going for a hike in the woods. First thing
you know, you’re traveling in a circle. Only you
don’t ever really know it, because wherever you are,
it always looks the same.”</p>
<p>The more Biff thought that over, the more true it
seemed. But when he discussed it with Kamuka, the
Indian boy disputed the notion.</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_143">143</div>
<p>“One place is not like another,” declared Kamuka.
“I look there, and I see so many trees. I remember
them like picture. You show me another place, the
picture is different.”</p>
<p>“In that case,” said Biff, “I suppose you can never
get lost in the jungle.”</p>
<p>“I get lost easy,” returned Kamuka. “Too easy.
Any place I do not know, I am lost—maybe. But I
never get lost in the same place where I was before.”</p>
<p>Biff decided to test that out in a simple but effective
way. As they chugged along, he made notes of certain
spots and told Kamuka to remember them on his own.
When they reached a similar place, Biff asked Kamuka
to tell him the difference. Always, Kamuka came
up with some slight variation that tallied with Biff’s list.</p>
<p>When they swung into a small cove past a jutting
point with an odd overhanging tree, Biff was sure that
they had seen the place before. This time, Kamuka
couldn’t come up with enough differences in the
scenery. Triumphantly, Biff was saying:</p>
<p>“You see, Kamuka? This could be the same place
where we were an hour ago, or enough like it so you
can’t tell the difference—”</p>
<p>“Except,” said Kamuka, “that there was no smoke
in trees, no campfire with people around, no boats
coming out from shore—”</p>
<p>Biff looked up in surprise. He saw more boats, a
whole batch of them, shooting out from opposite
points to block off any retreat.</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_144">144</div>
<p>More than a dozen in number, those boats were
filled with natives who shouted savage war cries as
they closed in on Nara’s flotilla, forcing the heavier
boats toward the shore. There was no avoiding the
camp where warlike natives waited, armed with spears,
for now other canoes were darting out from hiding
places to complete the rapid roundup.</p>
<p>Rather than be boarded by the natives, Mr. Brewster
ordered the boats to the shore. There, he and Whitman
sprang out with loaded rifles. Biff and Kamuka followed,
bringing their machetes. Jacome joined them,
armed in the same fashion. Immediately, they were
surrounded by a dozen silent natives, who stood ready
with poised spears.</p>
<p>“Be careful,” warned Jacome. “Do not make move.
Big pot on fire is used to cook <i>curare</i>. Spear point
poison—maybe.”</p>
<p>Between the circling natives, Biff saw the fire and
the pot that Jacome mentioned. It was a big, crude
kettle, steaming over the log flames.</p>
<p>“I’m glad they’re just cooking <i>curare</i>,” Biff whispered
to Kamuka. “I thought maybe they were boiling
some special stuff to shrink our heads.”</p>
<p>“Maybe they do just that,” returned Kamuka solemnly.
“I do not like this. Not one bit, Biff.”</p>
<p>A tall chief with a drooping feathered headdress
and a plumed belt had taken charge, and was ordering
Nara and the Wai Wais from their boats. Nara’s
Indians brought their machetes, but old Joe came
entirely unarmed. He jabbered dialect at the feathered
chief. Then, finding that he didn’t understand, Nara
let Igo and Ubi take over as interpreters.</p>
<p>After a brief talk, Nara turned to Mr. Brewster.</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_145">145</div>
<p>“They are Maco Indians,” stated Nara. “They were
told that we intend to attack their village.”</p>
<p>“Macus,” Biff’s father groaned. “I knew they would
catch up with us.”</p>
<p>“Not Macus,” corrected Nara. “<i>Macos</i>, who live on
the upper Orinoco. But they can be just as dangerous,
now that they’re sure we are their enemies.”</p>
<p>“Where did they get that idea?” asked Mr.
Brewster.</p>
<p>“From three men who stopped at their village near
the Casiquiare,” explained Nara, “and told them that
we would come sneaking through the backwaters to
the spot where we are now.”</p>
<p>“Serbot, Pepito, and Urubu,” Mr. Brewster decided
grimly. “It must have been Pepito who stole the map
in Manaus. They were unable to locate the mine on
their portion of it, but they cut across our route and
stirred up this tribe against us.”</p>
<p>“What do we do now?” put in Whitman. “Give
them presents and send them away happy?”</p>
<p>“They won’t be happy unless they take us, too,” declared
Nara. “They want us to accompany them to
their village, so that their king can hear our story. He
will decide whether we are guilty or innocent.”</p>
<p>“That means he will either find us guilty,” observed
Mr. Brewster, “or he’ll put us through some ordeal
where we will come out more dead than alive. Should
we make a stand for it here?”</p>
<p>“Not a chance,” returned Nara. “Those spear tips
are already poisoned. That’s why they’re boiling
water, to cook up a new brew after they’ve used
their spears. One false move now, and we’re goners.”</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_146">146</div>
<p>From the bristling appearance of the spears and
the glares of the two dozen spearmen who now surrounded
the party, it looked as though Nara was right.
Impatient mutters were coming from the tribesmen
while the feathered chief awaited a reply.</p>
<p>“We can’t fight them,” declared Mr. Brewster, “and
we can’t go with them. What choice does that leave
us?”</p>
<p>“Only one,” replied Nara calmly. “We must convince
them that we have a right to be here, more right,
in fact, than they have.” He turned to Ubi and Igo and
announced importantly: “Tell them who I am.”</p>
<p>Igo and Ubi babbled in dialect with the title “El
Dorado” sprinkled through it, bringing echoing exclamations
of “El Dorado” from the Maco tribesmen.
At the finish, Igo spoke simply to Nara:</p>
<p>“They say they like to see you show them.”</p>
<p>“I’ll show them!” Nara made a spreading gesture
with his arms. “Tell them to clear the way to that big
pot up there by the fire, and I’ll show them I’m El
Dorado!”</p>
<p>As Igo translated the statement, the Maco chief ordered
his followers to clear a path, which they did.
Old Joe Nara strode forward, nodding his head as
though his triumph was already assured.</p>
<p>“I hope,” said Kamuka, “that Senhor Nara can
do something to help, like real El Dorado would.”</p>
<p>“Whatever he does,” added Biff fervently, “it will
have to be good, if it’s going to help at all!”</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_147">147</div>
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