Chasing El Dorado Page 2

CHAPTER 2

  Early the next morning, following a breakfast of oatmeal and biscuits, the three explorers made ready to continue their fateful journey. Three days of rest and recovery had extraordinary rejuvenate effects on Walter Ramsell’s ailments.

  Dead Horse Camp had existed in a clearing that afforded copious amounts of sunshine, and the days at the camp had been breezy, thus keeping the insects at bay. The sun had dried Walter's open wounds and the ability to rest had given his body the time it needed to begin the healing process. Physically the men were well rested and fit. The mood however was somber and melancholy revealing the wounds of disappointment and mistrust.

  That morning Colonel Forster mounted his horse and rode out of camp without speaking a word to the others. Jack looked at Walter painfully and then mounted and followed his father.

  The three companions traveled for several days, speaking to one another only when necessary, each man left alone to wrestle with his own thoughts and emotions about Colonel Forster’s actions and Walter’s stinging accusations.

  In the third week after leaving Dead Horse Camp, the men were camped in an area of the jungle that was so dense and wet that a camp fire was impossible and they were forced to pitch their tents far from each other.

  As the light from the unseen sun, filtering through the thick jungle canopy faded, signaling the end of yet another painful day, the three men sat at the entrance of their tents recording thoughts and observations in their journals until even the candlelight was consumed by the jungles rapacious appetite for light.

  Once again no words were spoken, no ‘Goodnights’, no plans laid for the next day’s travel. The wound of Dead horse Camp was open and rancid.

  Sometime in the night Walter awoke from a restless sleep. He sat bolt upright on his cot alarmed but unsure why. He reached for his rifle and stepped outside his tent. The usual cacophony of the jungle world had gone silent.

  “Something is in the camp.” Walter’s body jerked with the surprise of Colonel Forster’s low voice over his left shoulder.

  “Where?” Walter asked quietly after collecting himself.

  “I do not know” Forster said. “Find a lantern.” Forster remained at the tent entrance until Walter returned with a kerosene lamp.

  Once the lantern was fired Forster said “Move toward Jack’s tent, walk slowly, stay alert and keep your rifle at the ready”

  The two men covered the thirty feet to the entrance of Jack’s tent and Forster softly whispered his son’s name.

  There was no response. Forster quickly untied the canvas strings and used his raised rifle barrel to open the flap. Walter, reaching past the Colonel, thrust the lantern into the tent.

  The illuminated scene before them was both amazing and terrifying. Inside the four foot by eight foot tent Jack Forster’s body was completely encircled by an Anaconda so massive that its bulk filled the space.

  The two men stood entranced by the grisly spectacle as the lantern light bathed the writhing olive green and yellow mass of serpentine flesh. The leviathan was enormous, its undulating body appearing to Walter to be as big around as a barrel of gunpowder.

  “Jack!” Colonel Perry Forster screamed, his voice trembling with uncharacteristic terror.

  Walter’s attention was drawn to the far end of the tent. The huge snake had moved in such a way that Jack’s lower legs and head could now be seen. The beast had attacked Jack where he slept encircling his sleeping cot and his body. As the lantern light fell across Jack’s face Walter could see that his eyes were open wide and nearly ready to burst from the sockets. The look of sheer terror on the poor man’s face caused the two men to spring into action almost in unison.

  Colonel Forster dropped his rifle and reached for his boot knife. Striking out at the nearest coil he began to thrust his knife repeatedly deep into the snakes flesh.

  Walter at the same moment lowered the lantern and his rifle and drew forth his safari knife which was nearly twelve inches long. He had received not just a little ribbing from the Forster men for bringing this knife. They both said it would be too heavy and long to be of any real use.

  Colonel Forster’s assault had immediate results on the great snake as a six foot long section of green and yellow flesh rose from the writhing mass. Atop this length of muscle and sinew appeared a dark olive green and brown head with malignant yellow gold eyes surrounded by a bright orange mask. Walter estimated the head was as broad as a man’s palms held side by side.

  The animal attacked the Colonel striking him squarely on the left shoulder and bearing him to the ground. The beast held him with its mouth and instinctively began to coil around his body. Walter was atop the monster in an instant driving his long knife deeply into its body. The animal’s strength was incomprehensible and Walter soon realized his companions would be dead long before the serpent died or gave up. Moving to the beasts head he forced his blade between the creatures jaw and attempted to pry it off the Colonels shoulder.

  “Stab the head” Colonel Forster forced the words from lungs being crushed by the massive beast.

  Walter instantly realized what the man was saying and saw no other choice. Raising his blade he let it hover over the head just between the yellow eyes. Looking down into Perry Forster’s eyes he received a slight nod of affirmation from the Colonel. With his left hand gripping the haft and his right palm on top of it he forced the twelve inch blade down and through the Anacondas skull. The blade passed through the snakes head and passed deep into Colonel Forster’s shoulder. The Colonel attempted a cry of pain but only the slightest sound escaped from his empty lungs.

  The monster began to relax its grip.

  “Help… Jack.” The Colonel was able to force out.

  Walter removed the knife causing Forster to bark out a profanity. The young man hesitated only for a moment and then set to work slicing the great beast away from his friend. Even though the creature was dead it continued to slither and undulate, its nervous system still stimulating its powerful muscles to contract and squirm. Beginning with the coils around his chest Walter cut Jack free, however this took several precious minutes that left poor Jack starving for air. Walter feared the worst.

  Jack was now free however he was not breathing. His body was a sickening ashen gray color and his lips were the color of Blueberry’s. Walter began to administer resuscitative maneuvers as one would for a drowning victim.

  Colonel Forster had freed himself from the clutches of the dead beast and crawled to Walter’s side.

  “His ribs must be crushed!” Forster lamented “Oh, my poor boy!”

  As the words left his father’s lips Jack Forster took a long slow breath, exhaled with a jolting cough and then inhaled again more easily settling in to a normal respiratory rhythm.

  “Jack… Jack?” Forster cried out.

  Jack opened his eyes as his skin and lips became pink and rosy.

  “What the hell was that?” he said with a cough and a grin.

  Walter began to run his hands over Jacks ribs, arms and legs searching for the broken and crushed bones that must be there. He found none. Looking for an explanation to this mystery he spied the solid oak frame of Jack’s cot lying beside him on the ground. The snake had coiled itself around both Jack and the cot when it had attacked. The stout wooden frame must have served to protect Jack’s bones from the crushing power of the giant constrictor.

  Walter turned his attention to Colonel Forster. Blood was oozing from both a very nasty jagged edged bite wound and a clean knife wound to his left shoulder. Tearing away the older man’s shirt Walter could see that the long knife had passed completely through the man’s chest exiting through his back just above his shoulder blade.

  “Are you having any difficulty breathing Colonel?” Walter asked anxiously.

  Forster took a deep breath. Wincing in pain he said “No, it hurts but I can breathe all right.”

  Walter let out a sigh of relief. By some mere chance he had missed the Colonel�
��s lung with his long blade. Now if he could just stem the flow of blood he may have a chance at not being the man that killed the great Colonel Perry Forster.

  The sun rose the next morning on a dismal camp. Walter had successfully stopped Colonel Forster from bleeding to death and had helped him to his tent but now he was weak and appeared pallid and ashen. The knife wound had closed and appeared clean however the jagged wound caused by the Anaconda’s serrated and bacteria laden teeth was swollen and inflamed. Walter cleaned and redressed the wounds, gave him water and forced him to rest.

  Jack was in much better condition, resting in Walter’s tent, claiming that he was only a little woozy and exhausted.

  “Come now Jack” Walter chided good naturedly “don’t be such a delicate flower. It was only a little snake. It was not as if you were attacked by a crocodile.”

  “The little bugger must have squeezed out all my moxie along with my gut’s otherwise I would get up and box your impertinent ears” Jack shot back at his friend “however since we both know that is not going to happen why don’t you be a good little nurse and totter off and fetch me a nice cup of tea.”

  Walter smiled, slapped Jack lightly on the cheek and went off to assess the damage to their camp caused by last night’s ruckus. Approaching the remains of Jack’s tent Walter could hear the buzzing of hundreds of flies and other insects attracted by the dead Anaconda. Wrapping his scarf around his face to protect himself from their anticipated onslaught, he pulled back the flap.

  Walter Ramsell was again shocked at the scene. The snake’s carcass filled the entire space of the tent and a great part of its body was unseen stretching out the back side of the canvas. In the far right hand corner Jack’s small folding table was upended, his journal lying under a coil of the carcass. On the left side of the tent was the bulk of the creature still coiled around the flattened and broken remains of Jack’s sleeping cot.

  Walter made an attempt to move the body of the snake however it was much too heavy. He decided to dismantle the tent around the thing instead. Once he had removed the upper portion of the tent he used the floor on which it rested to drag and uncoil the snake so that he could better estimate its size. By early afternoon Walter had the thing positioned in a somewhat straight line so that he could fully evaluate the size of the beast. Standing with his hands on his hips he gazed in wonder at the leviathan.

  “God in heaven!” Jack’s voice came from behind Walter causing him to turn sharply. He saw Jack standing at his tent’s entrance leaning heavily on a camp chair. Walter gave him a welcome grin, glad to see him on his feet.

  “As I said ‘Only a little snake’.”

  The two men estimated the Anaconda conservatively at thirty feet with a girth of twenty inches at its widest point. The beast was actually quite beautiful with dark brown patches on its olive green skin and a yellow green under belly. The two men agreed however that the most striking part of the animal was the bright orange mask surrounding the golden yellow eyes. They had both sensed a calm serenity in those eyes as the beast was about its business last night.

  “It is a magnificent creature.” Jack said. “I feel bad that you had to kill it,” placing a hand on Walter’s shoulder he continued, “but I am forever grateful that you did.”

  "If you are feeling up to it we should move camp away from this carcass." Walter said. ""It will most certainly attract predators and scavengers."

  "Yes, of course you are right, I will check on father and then come give you a hand." Jack replied.

  Walter watched him gingerly make his way toward the Colonel's tent. Jack was bruised and sore but with a little rest he would be fine. Walter forecast no such sunny recovery for the Colonel. Not in the near future.

  Jack entered his father's tent immediately sensing the gravity of his illness. Colonel Forster's flesh appeared a ghastly cadaverous white. Startled by his father’s appearance Jack moved quickly to his side shaking his shoulders and calling out to him.

  "Father, Father?" Colonel Forster awoke with a start peering up at his son. "Jack my boy. Are you all right?"

  "Yes I am fine father, how do you feel?" Jack cross-examined.

  "I believe... I have had... better days." He said with a grin and then drifted back to sleep.

  Jack gathered the fresh bandages water and ointment Walter had been using to care for the Colonel's wounds. While cleaning them and changing the dressing Jack found several of the dead Anaconda's teeth embedded in the flesh around the wound. Removing the teeth proved difficult and time consuming, fortunately Colonel Forster remained asleep or unconscious. When through Jack moved outside to find that Walter had been busy and had most of the camp packed up and loaded on the mules. The two men now worked together to make a litter upon which the Colonel could rest while being pulled behind Jack’s horse.

  "What do you think Jack, how far should we try to move?" Walter inquired once the task was complete. "I want to be as far away from that rotting carcass as possible however I shouldn’t think moving your father far would do him a bit of good."

  Jack looked over the surrounding terrain. Through a break in the forest he could see the rise of a hill approximately two miles off to the east. The game trail they had been following continued in that same direction.

  "East is our desired direction and the top of that mound may provide a good vantage point for us." He answered. "If the trail holds out that far we should be able to reach the top by dusk, set up camp and give father a few days to heal."

  "Let's get to it then." Walter agreed eagerly.

  The two set to work breaking down Colonel Forster's tent and then they moved Forster, sleeping cot and all, onto the litter behind the horse.

  Traveling with the litter in tow was difficult and slow, fortunately the light held out as did the trail, such as it was. The men made camp by lantern light at the top of the hill Jack had spotted earlier that afternoon. It proved to be an ideal spot with a giant Kapok tree growing at its peak directly under which was a large flat clearing. The base of the Kapok tree was at least thirty five feet across and eight feet high at the lowest point. The men set up their camp on the west side of the tree as best they could that night. Walter and Jack again cleaned and dressed Colonel Forster’s wounds, gave him water, and forced him to eat something. Jack insisted on sleeping in the same tent with his father.

  Walter finally made his way to his tent. His blanket was laid out on the floor as he had given up his cot to Jack. Pulling closed around himself the mosquito netting that hung from the ceiling Jack pondered the day’s events. As visions of giant snakes with luminous fire red eyes slithered through his brain Walter pitched forward into the black abyss of oblivion.

  The next morning Walter awoke to the sounds of pots rattling outside his tent. Moving outside he was surprised to find Jack and Colonel Forster near a small camp fire.

  “Good morning Walter” Jack said greeting him “come have some coffee”.

  Walter moved toward the men and accepted a steaming cup from the Colonel.

  “It is good to see you up and about Colonel, how do you feel sir?” Walter asked looking concerned.

  “Stiff, weak and sore” Forester replied. “However I am much better than I would have been if not for your bold and courageous actions young man.”

  “I feel neither courageous nor bold sir.” Walter said shamefully. “I feel as if I have pierced you twice, once with my blade and once with my impertinent and impudent tongue.”

  The harsh accusations made at Dead Horse Camp had opened a jagged and gaping wound in the body of the Forster party which over the past weeks had festered and putrefied, its stench driving the men apart.

  The bitterness had existed among them like a rotting corpse, a fourth member of the party that everyone was sickeningly aware of and yet no one would come anywhere near.

  It was time for the wound to be excised. It was time to bury the body.

  "I remember obtaining my first real treasure map when I was a
young military cadet,” Forster began in a gentle voice motioning for Walter to come sit with Jack and himself, “and I can still recall the initial rush of elation as I poured over the map. I can, to this day, tell you every detail of that map. The intoxication of planning and preparing for the expedition and the irrepressible yearning to get underway and begin the search was enchanting.”

  Colonel Forster was quiet for a moment looking off into the jungle as if seeing something far, far away.

  “Of course these things were the fancies of youth and foolishness.” He abruptly continued. “As a representative of the Royal Geographical Society I was expected to rise above such carnal and worldly ambitions. And rightly so, for self-glorification and hubris can lead a man to overconfidence and here, in this great green beast,” Forster made a sweeping motion with his good arm, “audacity and pride are eaten as the evening meal. Over the years I have convinced myself that I am no such unprincipled or corrupt character. I have served for decades as the servant of knowledge and the slave of discovery.”

  Colonel Forster paused and removed the golden disc from his ruck sac. “When this arrived however something was kindled in me that was reminiscent of those days as a young cadet.”

  Looking at the two young men staring back at him he asked “Do you have any idea what it is like to sacrifice your flesh over and over again, day after day, year after year, decade after decade simply to have that sacrifice regarded as your employment. What reward is there tomorrow for a man who has repeatedly risked his life so that others may be rewarded today? It is not wealth I seek and yet if it is found I will take it. It is not glory I seek and yet if glory comes I will accept it. I have always believed these desires to be depraved and considered those who pursue them as wantonly corrupt. If these things come to be within my grasp will I be immoral if I reach out and take them?”

  Jack could see the pain in his father’s face. Why had he never recognized this conflict in his father before? Had it always been there? He moved to his father’s side and sat down.

  “You have gained the respect of the world” he said encouragingly “and accomplished things most men could only dream of. You have assured yourself a legacy that will endure throughout history father, and I have never been prouder to be your son. We will find El Dorado together and bring back undeniable proof to the world. If it is wealth you seek then you will have it, and glory, and fame. But know this, that in the eyes of your son, there is no greater man on earth than Colonel Perry Forster.”

  Walter Ramsell sat and watched the two men in the morning light. He was glad that the two had reconciled and that strain of the last few weeks was easing. Walter still wanted to go home and believed this search for a lost city was an obsession that would turn out badly. He was not convinced by the golden disc either. It seemed to him that it probably was a fake. The hieroglyphs seemed genuine enough however the image of a whale on the obverse seemed farfetched. Then again Hiram Bingham, just fourteen years ago, had found the lost Incan city of Machu Picchu; of course he was better funded and much better equipped than this little party of three men, three horses and two pack mules.

  The men rested all that day taking advantage of the time to make needed repairs to clothing, saddles and gear. Colonel Forster had improved considerably since Jack had removed the contaminated teeth from the bite wound. It was beginning to close and was no longer inflamed and warm to the touch. He sat at a table with a map rolled out upon it and made an attempt to pinpoint their location.

  “Jack, Walter!” He called excitedly to the two young men.

  Both came hurrying over to the table. Excitedly the Colonel gestured toward the large Kapok tree.

  “There, the other side of the tree. Go around and look out beyond to the east!” Forster was quite animated and almost hysterical.

  The two jogged around the north end of the tree and disappeared. Moments later Jack stepped back into view with a delighted grin spreading through his beard.

  “How did you know?” He asked astonished. “How did you know?”

  Colonel Forster let go a hearty laugh and said “It had to be there, it just had to be!”

  Jack ran to his father’s side and helped him move around to back side of the Kapok tree where Walter stood leaning, his back against its base. As the Colonel approached and looked at him Walter simply smiled and nodded his head toward the east.

  Colonel Forster turned in the direction Walter’s hat had pointed. The hill on which they stood rolled down and out in front of them spreading out before it leveled. There at its base could be seen what must be the Rio Kuluseu and further south the Rio Kuluene. The flat plain at the base of the hill stretched out for approximately five miles and then suddenly and rapidly ascended steeply into a mountain range with its nearest peaks high in the clouds.

  “Incredible!” Forster exclaimed. “Gentlemen, these mountains have never before been seen by modern explorers. Congratulations, you have just won your place in the history books. ”