The Argosy, Vol. XXV, No. 1 — page 3: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

onal ae A PERUVIAN PARADISE. 3 pretty soon, /’# going to hunt for the Incas’ old hideouts. When the Spaniards drove the tribes into the mountains they lugged a pile of treasure with ’em. It must be hidden somewhere.’’ ‘“ You get to monkeying among these mountains, off the beaten paths, and you’ll be up against something you won’t like,’’ observed Keeth: ‘What?’ ‘“Well, they say all the Indians aren’t as peaceable as the coast natives, or those Fitch trades: with in the interior.’’ ‘Pll risk ’em,’’ said Ford. ‘‘I’m bound to get some fun during my va- cation. If it’s going to be a brush with wild Indians, why let it come. Goodness knows, after boning down at a desk in Callao for eighteen months steady, I ought to stand a little excitement.’’ ‘Pooh! pooh!’’ exclaimed Fitch. ‘‘ You young men don’t believe hall thent old woman’s tales about the mountaim tribes, do you?’”’ ‘‘ Fitch,’’ said Keeth, ‘‘ you’re the most unbelieving man I ever saw.’’ ‘‘ He’s worse than that,’’ cried Ford. ‘‘It’s abominable. Remember, we’re out for a holiday—at least, 7am. Don’t try to break down our faith in all the ronrantic traditions of the country. Let us believe in the descend- ants of the Incas themselves who, they say, inhabit the wpper plateaus of the Andes.”’ - : ‘“ Nonsense ! nonsense !’’ declared the trader, with some heat. ‘‘ We’re in as wild a part of the Sierras now as a white man cares to go. ‘There’s nothin’ but mountains hand wild beasts to the north of us. Hi’ve been hover this trail dozens of times an’ Hi never even saw one o’ thenr Hinjuns you’re talking about. Hit’s all a bloomin’ booger story.”’ ‘“‘ Tf there’d been any truth in it Fitch would have been trading with them before this,’’ interposed Keeth drily. ‘‘’That’s so,’’ said the trader. ‘‘ That’s just what I would sid At that instant the steady jangling of the bell on the leading llama ceased. The pack train came toa sudden stop, the animals crowding upon one another in the narrow path. The trail ahead was hidden by a towering spur of rock. From beyond this obstruction came the loud clash of voices and the trampling of feet. ‘“What’s up? Another pack train ?’’ demanded Ford. Fitch started forward, but before he had rounded the head of his train the sound of voices had increased to.a roar, above which the strokes of metal upon metal were plainly audible. ‘A fight, by Jove !’’ cried Ford, and he started on a run up the trail. But Keeth passed both of them before they reached the spur of rock. He unuslung his rifle as‘ he ran and when he rounded the obstruction held the weapon at a ‘‘ready.’’ . The scene which met his’gaze was a most startling one. On the narrow trail above him a group of nearly a score of Indians were struggling, and the vietim of their wrath was a single individual who stood at bay with his back to the rocky wall. ‘The Indians were fairly falling over one another in their furious endeavors to thrust the imperiled man through with their spears. He was a slight, lithe man—a Spaniard Keeth was sure at first glance— CoOTmmiclaoolK< (E@)