"That is about right," he said to himself. "I will count them when I take
them out." Then, putting them down, he went up for his lantern. He was
about to close the lid of the mound, but he reflected that this would be
of no use. It had been open nobody knew how long, and might as well
remain so. He was coming back as often as he could, and it would be a tax
upon his strength to lift that heavy lid every time. So he left the
treasures of the Incas open to the air under the black roof of the
cavern, and, with his lantern in his hand and a bag of gold on each
shoulder, he left the cave of the lake, and then, concealing his lantern,
he walked down to the sea.
Before he reached it he had thoroughly scanned the ocean, but not a sign
of a ship could be seen. Walking along the sands, and keeping, as
before, close to the curving line of water thrown up by the surf, he
said to himself:
"I must have my eyes and ears open, but I am not going to be nervous or
fidgety. I came here to be a pack-mule, and I intend to be a pack-mule
until something stops me, and if that something is one man, he can look
out for himself."
The bags were heavy and their contents were rough and galling to the
shoulders, but the captain was strong and his muscles were tough, and as
he walked he planned a pair of cushions which he would wear under his
golden epaulets in his future marches.
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