Gold of the Gods (13 page)

'Beck! Marco!' Christina was kicking
something next to her foot and scraping
excitedly at the moss on the jungle floor. In
a moment the boys were by her side. The
edge of a carved block of stone was clearly
visible. Alongside it lay another stone of
identical size and shape. Nearby, still
more had been forced up out of the
ground by the twisting roots of an old tree.

Marco was soon on his feet, looking
backwards and forwards along the floor of
the jungle. 'The Kogi path. This must be
the Kogi path!' The energy and determination
had returned to his voice. There was
no mistaking it now: they were standing on
the jumbled remains of an ancient stone
causeway.

Beck slowly led the way forward. They
could hear the roar of the canyon in the
distance and the leaves were dripping in a
permanent mist where the spray from the
river engulfed the surrounding jungle.

Beck was thinking hard. It still made no
sense. Gonzalo's map showed the path
running parallel with the canyon, not across
it. That's why they'd risked everything to
cross lower down. Then he remembered the
story Mama Kojek had told him. After
Gonzalo had found their sacred city, the
Kogis had abandoned it and redirected
the paths through the forest to confuse the
conquistadors if they returned. Did that
mean the path marked on Gonzalo's map
was wrong? So, was
this
the path leading to
the Lost City? If so, it was heading back
towards the gorge.

With a sinking sensation in his stomach,
Beck led the way forward as the roar of the
river became ever louder. After a while they
could hardly hear each other speak above
the din. Beck's heart was thumping. Their
mission to find Uncle Al and Mayor Rafael
was crumbling before them. They had fallen
into the same trap as Gonzalo and now
there was no way forward. Crossing the
river this high in the mountains would
surely be impossible.

As the path approached the edge, Beck
could just make out the sheer rock face on
the opposite side of the gorge. Where the
remains of the path reached the cliff, a series
of thick vines hung down from the branches
of the trees to where a bridge had been
suspended across the canyon. It sagged
alarmingly over the abyss. Moving carefully
closer, they stared down. Far below them,
the waterfall pounded onto the rocks,
sending jets of spray high into the air.

'Mama Kojek's people must have built
this,' shouted Beck above the roar of the
torrent. 'But it can't have been used for
years.'

He was interrupted by a raucous bellow
and a hideous screeching in the trees above
them. Christina grimaced and put her
hands over her ears. Beck did a double-take.
A row of red bell pulls seemed to be
dangling from the branches of the trees
above them. The bellow came again. Then
the branches began to shake violently and
suddenly dozens of eyes were staring down
at them.

'It's a troop of red howler monkeys,' he
shouted. 'Best to get over the river as soon
as we can. They could be dangerous if they
start hurling branches down at us. Those
tails of theirs are like having a third arm.
And the other two could knock out the
world heavyweight champ. In the first
round.'

He turned away and looked down into
the canyon. 'There's no way that bridge is
strong enough to take all of us at once. We'll
have to cross one at a time.'

Marco looked up to see a huge gaping
mouth and a pair of flaring nostrils above
him as another ear-splitting shriek rose
above the roar of the river. The creature was
covered in a thick mat of flame-red hair and
crouched menacingly in the branches above.

The light was beginning to fade now and
there was no time to lose. 'The moment I'm
safe on the other side, follow me,' Beck
shouted back at the twins. 'But don't start
until I'm well clear.'

He started to edge out over the abyss.
The bridge was slippery and treacherous
and his hands clung tightly to the vines on
either side as he made his way slowly forward.
Through the lattice of vines beneath
his feet, he could see the water thundering
onto the rocks far below.

By the time he had reached the lowest
point of the bridge and begun hauling himself
back up again towards the cliff face on
the far side, the bridge was swaying alarmingly.
But the edge of the cliff was now
almost within reach.

Then, without warning, the largest of the
howler monkeys swung himself out by his
tail from the trees above where the twins
were crouching. For a moment he seemed
to hang in mid-air above the gorge before he
threw out a lanky arm and grabbed the side
of the bridge behind Beck.

Clinging to the vines, he began leaping
up and down in a frenzy, screeching and
barking. He was followed by another
monkey, and then another, until the whole
troop were swinging from the bridge. As it
shook violently beneath him, Beck clung
grimly to the sides to stop himself being
catapulted into the chasm below. Behind
him, he could hear the twins screaming in
vain at the howler monkeys.

But it was already too late.

The bridge was collapsing under his feet.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Beck was plunging into the abyss. Adrenalin
surged through his veins as the blurred walls
of the canyon rushed up beside him and he
hurtled towards the rocks below. Then, as
the bridge swung down beneath him, he
made one last, desperate lunge.

The jolt punched the air clean out of his
lungs. His arm had hooked itself around the
final step of the bridge, which was still
attached to the cliff edge, and his body
shuddered to a halt. Now just one thin
length of vine was all that lay between him
and certain death on the rocks below.

Beck clung on for dear life. The howler
monkeys were clambering up the remains of
the bridge above him, screeching and
barking as they dragged themselves onto the
edge of the cliff. Beck scrabbled desperately
for a foothold on the canyon wall as the
remains of the bridge swung back and forth
above the abyss and the spray thundered
around him.

But his head was clearing now.
Somewhere, deep inside him, he could hear
his father's voice calling him from far off.
That same calm voice that had given him
courage when he first learned to climb as a
boy. He closed his eyes as his mind shut out
the thunder of the water crashing on the
rocks beneath. 'For you, Dad,' Beck
whispered. 'For you, I promise I will
survive.'

Slowly he began the long strength-sapping
task of pulling himself upwards,
hand over hand. All other thoughts were
gone now. Survival was all that mattered.
The next vine, the next handhold, step by
painful step he dragged himself upwards. At
last the cliff edge was getting nearer and the
overhanging undergrowth was nearly within
reach. But Beck's last remaining ounce of
strength was draining out of his exhausted
body. The screaming of the howler monkeys
above him had reached fever pitch. How
puny, they mocked, were the efforts of this
hairless ape clinging so desperately to life.

Then, with one final superhuman effort,
Beck pulled himself up over the overhang
and onto the top of the cliff. Lungs heaving,
he crawled into the safety of the undergrowth.
The roar of the water was muffled
now and his heart was thumping like an
express train. On the far side of the canyon,
through the billowing spray, he could just
make out the crouched figures of the twins.
Marco was shouting something, but his
voice was swallowed up by the barrage of
noise.

Then, as if someone else were guiding
him, Beck felt his hand moving to his chest.
Hands shaking, he pulled the amulet of the
toad from under his shirt and held it up to
where the last rays of the sun were breaking
through the spray. Its eyes glinted across the
canyon, flashing at the twins.

He prayed that the twins had understood.
There was no option but for him to
go on. It was up to him alone now.
Somehow he would reach the Lost City and
find Uncle Al and Mayor Rafael. And somehow
he would outwit the gang and release
them. If he could survive this, he could survive
anything. Marco and Christina would
have to use all the knowledge he had taught
them and wait to be rescued. Somehow,
they too would survive.

Beck tucked the amulet under his shirt
again and took a last fleeting look back
across the canyon. The twins were waving
back at him now. Marco had a broad smile
on his face and was pumping both hands
above his head with fists clenched, as if
urging an exhausted marathon runner
across the line. Christina had put her fingers
to her lips and was blowing him a kiss across
the gorge.

After one more glance back, Beck
dragged himself away from the cliff edge.
Summoning all his willpower, he hacked a
trail through the dense foliage. He was
thankful that he'd been carrying the
machete – though he worried how the
twins would manage without it. He could
still just make out the route of the Kogi
path where it led away from the bridge
into the jungle. In the trees above him,
the bellows of the howler monkeys grew
ever louder as the roar of the waterfall
dwindled behind him. By now, the last
remaining daylight was beginning to fade
and the tropical night was closing in once
more.

His mind began to wander as he dragged
his exhausted body onwards. Just a few
short weeks ago he had been the captain of
his victorious school rugby team, looking
forward to an exotic trip with Uncle Al.
Back home, spring would be in the air and
his friends preparing for the cricket season.
The thought tugged at his heartstrings. He
could smell the aroma of linseed oil and
hear the sound of cricket spikes on the steps
of the pavilion as he made his way out to
bat. The crowd were shouting his name
and—

His reverie was rudely interrupted. The
gruff voice of his sergeant major on cadet
training in the Highlands of Scotland was
booming inside his head. '
Any fool can be
uncomfortable, Granger
,' it bellowed. '
Easiest
thing in the world. Just lie down in a ditch
and feel sorry for yourself. Forget your shelter.
No water, no fire, no food. Just close your eyes.
And you'll never wake up again . . .
'

Suddenly Beck was wide awake. The
sergeant major's voice had dissolved into
the bark of the howler monkeys in the trees
above him. Their howls were becoming ever
more threatening and they bared their teeth,
as if they blamed him for having ended up
stranded on the wrong side of the canyon.

But Beck's head was clearing again now.
He knew only too well the tricks the mind
could play in the final stages of exhaustion.
If he let himself sleep now, the warm
blanket of death would soon wash over him.
He would be back home again in whatever
happy scene his mind could conjure.
Everyone would be smiling. The howler
monkeys and the jaguar would be gone,
dogs nuzzling his face, cats purring, the
smell of cooking in the air and the scent of
new-mown grass drifting through the
window . . .

Beck groaned. Deep inside he knew that
unless he could shake himself free of his
stupor now, he was done for. He had no
choice but to make camp exactly where he
was. He needed to get warm fast if he were
to survive the night. He felt for the familiar
shape of the fire steel on the lace around his
neck and quickly went to work.

Night had fallen by the time the fire was
at last ablaze. Frightened by the flames,
the howler moneys had melted away and
the familiar calls of the jungle had returned.
For the first time since the bridge collapsed,
Beck had stopped shivering. By the light of
the flames, he cut himself another stick with
the machete and quickly cleared the debris
from the jungle floor. With his last remaining
strength, he built a simple sleeping
platform of bare branches laid together to
keep himself clear of the stinging, biting
creatures on the ground beneath.
It was hardly the comfort the sergeant
major had in mind, but it would have to
do.

As the flames burned lower, Beck at last
allowed himself to sink into sleep. His
dreams were troubled from the start. Uncle
Al appeared, riding a golden toad whose
croak sounded like the hideous bark of the
howler monkeys. They were being chased
by the sleek, dark shape of a huge cat skulking
in the shadows, its eyes shining bright as
diamonds. Beck felt the eyes boring into
him, but when he raised his eyes to meet
them, he was back in the square in
Cartagena once more. The face of Mama
Kojek hung over him.

He woke with a start. There was a
commotion above his head and the sound
of sticks smashing into the ground beside
him. In the watery gloom of morning his
tormentors had returned and he could see
the faces of the howler monkeys peering
down at him from the trees. Beck
cursed. Barking and howling too, he hurled
whatever missiles he could find back
up at them. Within minutes he was
exhausted.

But in the cold light of morning, Beck's
mind was clearer. During the night he had
woken several times to hear the snarl of the
jaguar stalking in the jungle somewhere
nearby. Each time, the heart-numbing
growl came from a different direction.
And each time, it seemed to come closer.
Now he lay still. His mind was working
fast. This was no time for mistakes or
wrong decisions. If the howler monkeys
followed him for much longer, they
would surely attract the attention of the
jaguar.

There was only one chance. Playing dead
was not a survival strategy Beck would
normally use. Especially with a bumptious
group of young howler monkeys. Once, in
the African bush, he had been thrown from
a horse when his party disturbed a lion
sleeping in the undergrowth. Playing dead
that day had saved his life. When he felt the
lion's hot breath on his neck, his heart
almost stopped beating. Finally it had
stalked off.

Beck did the same now. Hoping against
hope that the jaguar had feasted well during
the night and was now sleeping off his meal,
he lay still as the monkeys screeched and
cried above him. Surely they would grow
tired and leave this hairless ape alone.
During the night Mama Kojek had been
talking to him once more. Now he clutched
at Gonzalo's amulet, the eyes of the Indian
burning inside his head.

Finally, just as Beck was giving up hope
that the monkeys would ever leave, their
howls began to fade. The shaking and
squealing in the branches above his head
had stopped and the hail of missiles had
dwindled to a trickle. As their calls slowly
receded into the distance, Beck let out a
long, low sigh of relief.

Then, hardly knowing what he was
doing, he felt his fingers groping for the
amulet from under his shirt. And for the
first time since that night in the hut with
the Kogi Mamas, he put the toad to
his lips.

And blew.