Chasing El Dorado Page 9

CHAPTER 9

  Lieutenant Ivan Guttmann had been sent out alone, again, by Major Schmidt to scout for food. Like every other day before this one he had asked that he should be allowed to carry the only weapon that remained in the colonist camp. However Major Schmidt, in his infinite wisdom and arrogance, had pointed out that, according to regulations, the highest ranking officer was ultimately responsible for the security of the garrison and therefore he would maintain control of the weapon.

  Guttmann had once pointed out that the garrison now consisted of only four men and that the scout, sent out into the jungle by himself, was being placed in imminent danger of being attacked by hostile Indians or dangerous creatures. It was therefore more logical to allow the scout to carry the pistol. Major Schmidt had removed the weapon from its holster and placed the barrel between Guttmann’s eyes informing him that if he were to question his orders again the colony would be reduced to only three men.

  Lieutenant Guttmann had always remained relatively close to the garrison due to the fact that he was unarmed and unprotected. However today, because he was feeling either unusually brave or unusually hungry, he decided to explore an area of the jungle that was denser than what he had previously been foraging in. He hoped it would yield some kind of fruit or, that he would spot some game animal that he may eventually snare.

  He withdrew his machete and began hacking his way through the undergrowth. Ivan, like the other three men here, had been reduced to mere skin and bones due to malnutrition and disease. It was only a matter of time before they too succumbed to the Green Hell that was the Amazon Jungle. Their number had been thirty five originally when they arrived in 1935. Colonist, that is what they had been designated by Adolf Hitler’s National Socialist party. Incompetent foul-ups, irresponsible and inept at whatever assignment they had been entrusted with, the thirty five officers had been given a choice of either imprisonment or coming here. Here meant a second chance to prove to the Fuhrer that they were capable men and an opportunity to lay the foundation of National Socialism in South America.

  They had failed at this as well. Thirty one were dead from malnutrition, disease or Indian attack and the rest were soon to follow them. Returning to Germany meant a firing squad and so there was no choice but to remain here and see things through to the end.

  Guttmann hated the Amazon, he hated Schmidt and he hated Hitler. These were the thoughts running through his fevered mind as he hacked and hacked at the vines and branches as if they were enemies falling before his sword. Ivan pushed his way deeper and deeper into the forest determined to find something edible. The machete swung in a long arc slicing through a large fern, Guttmann stumbled backward falling to the ground as a shriek escaped his mouth.

  Sitting on the ground before him, leaning against a tree was the skeleton of a man. Guttmann took a few deep breaths gathering his composure and then crawled toward the body. The dead man as wearing a pair of leather riding boots on his feet and a pair of gabardine pants in the style of the mid nineteen twenties. Slung over his shoulder was a leather satchel and wrapped around his right hand were the remains of a cotton shirt. The body was completely decayed and so he assumed the man had been dead for many years.

  Guttmann gently lifted the leather bag over the dead man’s head. Opening the satchel he looked inside for any evidence of who this man may have been or why he was out here alone. His hand closed on something cold and metallic. Drawing it forth he gasped as it glimmered even in the low light under the jungle canopy. In his hand he held a golden disk engraved with the image of a rudimentary whale. In the center of the disk was a perfectly round stone. Ivan Guttmann recognized instantly that the disk was solid gold and that it was some kind of Indian artifact but, it was the stone that captivated him.

  It was a deep, dark blue, like the ocean and, like the deep blue sea, it had life moving within. Guttmann’s gaze was pulled into the depths of the stone. He began to feel as if he were hanging aloft, drifting off into the expanse of an unknown universe. Everyway his eyes moved the endless expanse opened up before, behind, above and below him. Light moved and swirled everywhere in the expanse, golden stars were chased by delicate, translucent silver tails and hundreds of golden diaphanous vortices were spinning like whirlpools in a liquid stream. Ivan felt as if he were standing at the edge of a precipice. He stepped back instinctively and once again fell hard on his backside.

  Feeling dizzy and nauseated he reached out for the leather satchel lying on the ground next to the skeleton. Picking it up, he dropped the medallion back in side, and excitedly turned to make his way back to the garrison. He paused for a moment just long enough to take one last look at the dead man resting peacefully against the tree. Guttmann made the sign of the cross and then turned and hurried away.

  Coming near the camp Ivan began shouting and calling for the other officers to come see his discovery. Johann Schmidt stepped out of his Command Post, a small hut made of tree limbs and a thatched roof, to see Lieutenant Guttmann gesturing wildly and brandishing what appeared to be some kind of gold trinket.

  “Lieutenant Guttmann.” Schmidt snapped. “Report please.”

  Guttmann gave Schmidt’s back a cold stare as the Major returned to the Command Post. Placing the medallion back in the satchel Ivan slowly moved in that direction. Entering Schmidt’s makeshift office Guttmann snapped to attention. The typical “at ease” did not follow. Instead Schmidt stood up walked around to where Ivan was standing and removed the satchel from off his shoulder. Placing the bag on the table he reached inside and removed the disk.

  “Where did you find this Lieutenant?” Schmidt asked.

  “About two miles North West of the camp sir, where the jungle becomes thickest, I discovered the body of a man, he was long dead sir.” Guttmann answered.

  “What else did you find Lieutenant?” Schmidt asked accusingly.

  “Nothing sir, just the disk.” Guttmann answered.

  Schmidt turned the satchel upside down and shook it so that its contents fell out on the table. A small, leather bound journal tumbled out making a soft thud on the wood table. Ivan Guttmann let out an audible groan. Major Schmidt gave Guttmann a disdainful glance and then opened the journal. Johann Schmidt gasped as he read the inside cover of the small book.

  “You will lead me back to this place at once.” Schmidt ordered.

  “Yes sir!” Guttmann answered in a loud angry tone.

  Major Schmidt ordered the other officers to remain at the garrison while he and Lieutenant Guttmann returned to the scene of the discovery. They were obviously not pleased as this was the most exciting thing to happen in the ten months that they had been in the Amazon. Still, they knew better than to question his orders and so watched, in silence, as Guttmann led Schmidt off into the jungle.

  One cannot begin to imagine the difficulty of traveling overland through the Brazilian jungle. Traveling on foot consumes every ounce of energy. Giant thorns and nettles reach out snag exposed flesh. Hundreds of invisible buzzing insects constantly seek to enter every exposed orifice while dozens of larger bugs pinch, bite, or lacerate the flesh in an attempt to gulp down what little blood the already anemic traveler has left. And then there is the relentless heat and humidity, pressing down and in with such force and intensity that one feels he is being squeezed in deaths embrace. His lungs refuse to expand, and when they finally do the air rushing in is sweltering and torrid causing only pain with no relief.

  Major Schmidt rarely ventured into the jungle, always delegating that task to those of a lesser rank and position. Therefore, while this was Guttmann’s second foray into the wilderness today, it was still Schmidt that called for the first rest.

  The men found a relatively clear piece of ground and sat down to drink. Major Schmidt brought out the journal from the satchel and flipped through its pages.

  “Guttmann, do you know what you have discovered here?” Schmidt asked.

  “Sir, it is unlike anything I have ever seen.” He replied with awe and fear in
his voice. “The blue gem stone in the medallion… it… it is possessed.”

  Schmidt looked at the man dubiously. He removed the disk from the satchel turning it over in his hand, studying the glyphs and the image of the whale. He laid the medallion on his lap and opened the journal, flipped through a few pages then stopped.

  “We have been escorted to the same chamber for the third day now.” Schmidt began to read aloud from its pages. “It has been six days since we descended upon this subterranean city.” Lieutenant Guttmann sat up and moved closer to the Major who continued reading. “The Chief Leader, Oircamo, has been hospitable toward us and true to his word, father’s wounds have been completely healed by the medical science of this civilization, just as he promised.

  However, we are now being forcefully ‘educated’ so that we may ‘understand our purpose’ here. I fear this forced instruction is affecting our minds. Oircamo is kind, advising the others that our education should be slow, like that of a child. He suggested our initial instruction should begin with the small disk readers that the children use. Pacon however argued that we were either sent by the god’s as foretold or that we are simply trespassers here.

  If we are unable to endure the full education of the god’s, then it would be a sign that they had judged us unworthy.

  I fear that they have judged us and death is the sentence. Tonight father is nearly catatonic and Walter cannot keep any food or water in his stomach. I think father will not survive the night.

  Here the secrets of the universe are revealed to us by the strange science of the pyramid yet we will perish by their overwhelming and indomitable weight ere their scope can be shared with humanity.”

  “I do not understand sir?” Guttmann asked.

  “Ten years ago three men disappeared into the Brazilian Highlands while looking for the fabled city of El Dorado. I believe you have found one of them Lieutenant.” Schmidt said.

  “But Major, what does it mean the ‘Subterranean City’ that the man refers to there in the journal?” Guttmann asked after a long moment’s contemplation.

  “Is it not obvious Lieutenant Guttmann?” Schmidt replied indifferently. “It appears they found it!”

  Guttmann led Schmidt to the corpse he had stumbled upon earlier that morning. Major Schmidt had been unusually friendly and talkative, entertaining Ivan with what details he knew of the fateful Forster expedition. As the two approached the spot where the body rested Guttmann began to consider the possible opportunities his discovery may represent.

  “It is just ahead of us now Major.” Lieutenant Guttmann said excitedly over his shoulder.

  “Good Ivan, good.” Schmidt replied dramatically.

  “There he is sir, do you think it is Jack Forster or Walter…” Lieutenant Guttmann turned and found the barrel of Major Schmidt’s Luger P08 pistol once again pressed between his eyes.

  “Major?”

  “Thank you Ivan.” Schmidt said coldly. “But I think that El Dorado will best serve Germany and the Fuhrer if it remains a secret a little longer.”

  The jungle exploded in a flurry of excitement at the report of the weapon. Birds shrieked and took to flight in countless numbers. Primates of all shapes and sizes screamed and howled and rodents scurried through the undergrowth as Guttmann’s body collapsed to the jungle floor.

  Schmidt stepped over the twitching corpse of Lieutenant Ivan Guttmann crossing to where the skeletal remains of Walter Ramsell sat propped against the tree. He began forcefully ferreting through the bones searching for further proof that this fortunate event, this marvelous circumstance, had actually fallen upon him.

  He lifted the left forearm, exposing the left hand from under ten years of accumulated forest debris and undergrowth, revealing a gold Signet ring on the dead man’s second finger. Removing the ring and polishing away the dirt and grime he made out the initials “P.H.F.”, Perry Harrison Forster.

  Schmidt sat down beside the now disarticulated skeleton, opened the journal to the final entry and began reading; “Beyond all hope I believe I have escaped! It has been more than a week and still there is no sign of my pursuers. That they are here, in the jungle, still searching for the stone and the man that stole it I have no doubt. Pacon will not rest until it is returned and its power is safely back in the city. I must now find my way out of this green labyrinth before it destroys me or I am discovered.

  Colonel Forster is dead, his mind unable to tolerate the forced indoctrination of the Chan’tun, the Sky Stone’s.”

  Here in the journal appeared an illustration of the very gold disk and round stone Schmidt now held in his hand. Astonished at the insinuation that this stone somehow transferred knowledge to the one who possessed it, he continued reading in awe.

  “Jack is dead, bravely sacrificing himself. “For the sake of the expedition” his parting words as he smiled at me and turned to face our pursuers. I know that he felt responsible for me and that he had hoped that I would somehow escape.

  I will survive, I must, even though I am weak, and I feel the jungle is in collusion with the Pakal, the people of Kahch’ultun, for it strives to destroy me with discernible enthusiasm.

  As I sit here and record these thoughts in Jack’s journal I am loathe to call that city El Dorado, for the name that once had the connotation of mystery and adventure, beauty and splendor now only means, to me, pain, ugliness and loss as I think back upon the death of my friends.

  I will survive and I will bring the secret of Kahch’ultun, the treasure of El Dorado, back to the civilized world so that the knowledge of God may become the possession of every man. This will be the legacy of Colonel Perry Forester and the men of the Forster Expedition.”

  Schmidt slowly lowered the journal contemplating the meaning of the words he had read there. Lifting the Gold disk he peered into the stone and saw the swirling universe within. Becoming suddenly nauseated he dropped the disk turning his head away.

  He did not understand how this mysterious orb transferred knowledge, what he did understand was that three reputable men had died believing that the transference was indeed possible. He had in his possession the Medallion, the Journal and the signet ring, all the proof he needed to convince the Fuhrer of the existence of El Dorado. This discovery would take him home and bring him back into favor with the Nazi party.

  Schmidt left Guttmann’s body where it had fallen twenty yards away from Ramsell’s skeleton knowing the Amazon jungle would make quick work of hiding the evidence. He placed the three items back in the worn leather satchel and then checked to see that the Luger was ready to fire.

  “Idealistic fool!” Schmidt said as he gave Walter’s skull an irreverent kick. Slinging the pack over his shoulder and holstering the pistol he set off in the direction of the Garrison. He still had two more officers that had to be relieved of their duties before he could make his way back to Germany.