Daring-Do and the Cruise of the Celestia
“The trouble with Equestrian life is that nothing ever seems to happen. Even Search and Rescue flying is so tame I can’t get a kick out of it. No adventure, no daring, no nothing; just fly from here to there, looking for some lost colt and there you are. Seems a dull business to me; what do you think about it?”
The speaker paused and glanced moodily at her companion, as if seeking confirmation of these unusual statements. Slim and athletic, with a cutie mark of a compass, her carriage suggested a wariness that was half denied by the odd, wistful look on her tan, boyish face; tiny lines graven around the corners of her mouth and steady violet eyes gave her an expression of self-confidence and assurance beyond her years. Her voice was light and carefree, but carried a hidden note of authority, as in one accustomed to making decisions and being obeyed.
Her companion, also a pegasus, was about the same age, perhaps a trifle younger, but rather more stocky in build, his flank displaying a pair of fiery wings. His round, freckled face, surmounted by an untidy straw-coloured mane, carried eyes that twinkled humourously at the slightest pretext. There was little about either of them to show they had been two of the most famed treasure hunters in, or indeed anywhere near, Equestria. They were known among such circles as nearly unstoppable, and a death knell to the chances of any opposition.
The speaker was, in fact, Daring-Do, Member of the Order of Celestia, Fellow of the Equestrian Exploring Society, who had defeated Ahuizotl and reclaimed the Sapphire Stone, and more recently snatched the famed Griffon’s Goblet from a resting place of a thousand years. Veteran of thirty-five treasure hunts, she was known, at least by reputation, from Canterlot to Fillydelphia.
The other was her close friend and comrade, Buccaneer Blaze, more often simply known as Bucks, an ex-Wonderbolt, and a companion to Daring through much of her career.
“I agree,” he replied morosely, “but what can we do about it? Nothing! I expect we’ll get used to it in time.”
“I’ll pass out with boredom in the meantime,” replied Daring with conviction, “that’s why I suggested coming down here to see Brightma. She should be able to shoot us a good lead or two, something that might provide a little challenge, for a change.”
“Why in Celestia’s name do you call your aunt Brightma?”
Daring laughed. “I don’t know,” she replied. “I used to call my mother ‘ma’ when I was a filly, and when her sister Brighteyes came up to see her I just naturally called her Brightma. I’ve never called her anything else.”
“I haven’t seen her for years, because, as I told you, she’s an archaeologist and is very seldom in the country. Neither am I, for that matter, but we never seem to run into each other. Hearing she was back on one her rare visits, I thought I’d slip along and see the old gal while I had the chance, and I thought you’d like to come along too. She’s got an interesting collection of stuff from all sorts of out-of-the-way places.”
They walked slowly on down the leafy path towards an old, dark-timbered house, which they could now see between the trees.
“Well, there are times when I positively ache to hear a pressure plate go off,” went on Daring as they drew closer. “Sheer habit, of course-”
“Stick ‘em up!”
Daring stopped dead and stared, in wide-eyed amazement, in the direction from which the words had come. Bucks also stopped, blinked, and shook his head like a mud-wrestler who has just intercepted a rather large pig with the point of the jaw.
“Odd, dreams don’t usually come true quite so quickly,” muttered Daring.
“Quit squawkin’ and do as you’re told,” growled a coarse nasal voice with a downtown Manehatten accent. The speaker, a tall, sun-bleached stallion with a squint and a face that had been scarred in a fire, took a pace forwards to empathise his words. Held in his aura was a short, wicked-looking knife. “You heard me,” he went on, scowling evilly.
“Yes, I heard you,” replied Daring evenly, eyeing the speaker with interest, “but aren’t you making a mistake? This is civilised country, not Manehatten; and we have our own way of dealing with thugs, as you’re about to find out, I think. If it’s money you want, you’ve messed up, because I haven’t any.”
“I don’t give a flying feather about no money” snarled the stallion. “Trot back the way you came, pronto; you’re not welcome here.”
Daring looked at the Manehattenite coldly and sat down before the stone wall that bordered the path. “Let’s discuss this sensibly,” she said gently, and Bucks, having heard that tone of voice before, quivered instinctively in anticipation of the action he knew was coming.
“Talk nothing. On your feet, filly, and leave!”
Daring sighed wearily. “Well, you seem to have... what do you call it... the low-down on us,” she muttered. “Come on Bucks, let’s go. There’s a present for you,” she added as an afterthought to their aggressor, and with her left wing flicked a pebble high into the air above the stallion’s head.
It was an old, old trick, but, like many old tricks, it paid off. The stallion’s eyes instinctively lifted to watch the flight of the pebble, and he side-stepped to let it fall. But, even as his eyes lifted, Daring jumped closer, and delivered a powerful buck straight at the stallion’s head. She spun for another blow if it proved necessary, but relaxed, slightly put out at her opponent, already groaning on the floor. The knife had fallen to the ground, released from the stallion’s magic, and Daring, with a quick movement, picked it up and dropped it in her own saddlebags.
“Great jumping cats, I hope he won’t die after that!” gasped Bucks, hurrying across and looking at the battered state of the stallion’s face.
“Killed nothing!” cried Daring impatiently, pale with anger. “Anypony trying to make Equestria as unsafe as the places I’ve been gets no sympathy in my book. Not on your life. I don’t understand what this is all about, though; there’s something wrong here. I hope Brightma is alright, come, let’s get along.” And, without another glance at her fallen foe, she strode off quickly down the drive.
With Bucks at her heels, she reached the front door and jangled the great old-fashioned bell noisily. There was no reply. Again she pulled. “Anypony at home here?” she shouted, spitting out the bell chain.
The squeaking of a lattice window above them made them glance upwards, and the sight that met their eyes brought another shout from Daring. Pointing down at them were a pair of hunting crossbows, enveloped in a green-gold glow. Behind and dimly lit by them, they could just discern a face, the top half of which was obscured by a wild mane.
“Woah there! Don’t shoot! It’s me, Brightma!” yelled Daring, ducking.
“Throw yourself flat; you’re liable to be shot!” cried Brighteyes quickly. “I’m coming down.” The window slammed shut as Daring flung herself at full length on the dirt path, with Bucks beside her.
“When Brightma says lie down, I lie down. She’s not one to fool around, believe me,” muttered Daring anxiously.
Bucks grinned. “Not quite the picture of two upstanding citizens visiting family in the country,” he chuckled. “I’ve been thrown out on my ear before today, but I believe this is the first time I’ve gone in on it. If this how you visit your aunts, you might have warned me to wear some overalls. This is my best tie-”
The rattle of chains and the withdrawing of bolts inside the door cut him short. The great iron-studded oak portal swung open a few inches and a pair of deep-set eyes peered through he crack at them. “Quick, jump for it!” cried Brighteyes, and flung the door wide open.
Together the two pegasi leapt across the the threshold, and as the door slammed behind them, they heard a sharp twang and the dull thud of a striking bolt. Bucks, who had landed on a loose rug, skidded violently, and, after making a wild effort to save himself, measured his length on the floor.
“Can’t you even land without stunting?” grinned Daring.
Bucks groaned. “This is how you go about visits in your family?” he groaned, picking himself up and rubbing his haunch ruefully.
But Daring had turned to the elderly mare, who was bolting the door securely. “What’s going on, Brightma?” she cried in astonishment. “Have you turned this place into a madhouse? Never mind your knee, Bucks, meet Brightma, Brightma, meet Bucks, the stallion who’s managed to survive adventure after adventure more by luck than judgement.”
Bucks glanced up and found himself looking into a rugged, weather-beaten face, in which a pair of pleasant green eyes twinkled brightly. “Pleased to meet you, ma’am,” he said. “We seem have arrived at an entertaining moment.”
“You couldn’t have arrived at a better time,” replied the old traveller quickly. “I’m badly in need of reinforcements. There are some gentlecolts outside who-”
“Hold ponies up at knife-point,” broke in Daring.
“How do you know?”
“One of ‘em tried it on us.”
“The rascal! What did you do?”
“Straight buck to the face.”
“Splendid!” cried the old mare enthusiastically. “I hope he liked it. But you must be hungry. Come and have some food and I’ll tell you all about it.
“You are going to find it hard to believe the story I am about to tell you,” went on Brighteyes when they had pulled up their chairs in the old, oak-panelled dining-room to a rather frugal meal of hay and pickles. “In the first place, you had better understand I’m under seige.”
Daring nearly swallowed a pickled onion in trying to speak. “Seige?” she managed to gasp. “By who?”
“Wait a moment; don’t be so impatient,” interrupted Brighteyes. “I trust it will not be necessary to use them, but I’ve taken the precaution of bringing in from the trophy room what weapons I have available. From time to time I let fly at one of the trees with the arbalest in order to encourage the enemy to keep at a distance.”
The two adventurers followed his eyes to the wall, upon which hung a worrying large variety of objects with a common theme of extreme sharpness.
“But why on earth didn’t you call up the Guards?” cried Daring in amazement.
“Because it wouldn’t be the slightest use,” replied Brighteyes gravely. “I’ve always been a little shoddy at the whole communication branch of magic anyway. But I’ll tell the story if you listen.”
“Go ahead Brightma. I won’t interrupt,” said Daring apologetically.
The old explorer filled a well-worn hardwood pipe, and when she got it going to her satisfaction she continued.
“The story really begins some years ago. As you know, I’ve spent my life exploring off-the-path parts of the world, but chiefly in the mountainous south, the old llama kingdoms, what is now Coltombia. I have long held the opinion that this ancient civilization extended much farther eastward than is generally imagined. The reasons I had for thinking so we do not need to go into now, but once when I was in Canterlot I read a lecture before the Society in which I stated these views, and to my disgust I was made to look a fool. The newspapers joined in the chorus of jeers,and that made me rather angry, especially as none of my critics had even seen the country.
“Well, to make a long story short, I went back to the Matto Grosso, which is a province that occupies most of the vast hinterland of Coltombia, stretching to the southern mountains, determined to find proofs. I found them, too; in fact, I found rather more than I bargained for.” The old explorer leaned forward dramatically. “I was on the trail of Atahuallama’s treasure,” she whispered. “The vast treasure of gold and gems that was being taken towards Cuzcolt by thousands of terrified nobles to appease the dragon that had settled there, holding Atahuallama, their Prince, hostage in his own palace.
“You probably know the story of how Pizzaro, the dragon, coolly murdered his captive, and the prince’s people, upon hearing the news, turned about and hid the treasure so effectively it has never been found, despite thousands of attempts that have been made to locate it. There is no doubt about the existence of the treasure, but I must admit it was certainly not in my mind when I discovered the first clue.
“What was it?” muttered Daring involuntarily.
Brighteyes rose, crossed the room, opened a drawer in a desk, and returned with a rough oblong shaped piece of metal, which she flung on the table with a dull crash. “Gold,” she said tersely, “solid gold; and I picked up in a place where the, ahem, experts say no llamas ever came. I followed up the clue and found other things. Frankly, I was surprised. I always thought was more likely to father north, nearer Cuzcolt.” Brighteyes looked long and searchingly across the gardens, taking care not to expose herself, before she continued.
“Unfortunately, I hired some very dishonest helpers. Porters are always difficult to obtain in the south at any time, and they are always unreliable. I had four ponies and a mule, named Stinking Pool, the worst of the lot; a coward, a thief and a liar. He is outside in the park at the moment.
“Well, let’s go and deal with him,” suggested the practical Daring instantly.
“Impossible,” declared Brighteyes. “It would be assault, or, even worse, murder. The Princesses take a rather unforgiving view of that sort of thing.”
“Hmm. I suppose you’re right,” agreed Daring reluctantly.
“These rascals,” continued Brighteyes, “decided they could turn a better profit without me and deserted, taking all their food and stores with them, and there was little to be had there. I won’t trouble you now the harrowing details of my trip home, or how I was found almost dying of starvation by a rubber collector and taken down the river in his canoe, and then to Mahorse, which, as you know, is a large town on the Xena, the great river that runs the length of the country.”
“Imagine my surprise, when I got there, to find an expedition just leaving to recover the treasure, led, if you please, by Stinking Pool, my late porter, and a Manehatten wastrel named Wily Card. I was too ill with fever to do anything, but I was nearly fit again when the expedition returned. It had failed, and for the simple reason that, while Stinking Pool knew roughly the location of the treasure, he did not know the exact spot, and it was like looking for a needle in a haystack. At first I was mildly amused, but that turned to alarm when they tried to kidnap and force me to divulge my secret.”
“I had thought, while recovering, of forming another expedition, but I quickly discovered it was out of the question. Apart from the fact that the ponies I engaged were promptly bribed by the enemy to disclose my plans, it became clear that my life would not be worth a single bit if I ventured far from civilization. Indeed, so desperate did matters become that I had no alternative but to flee the country. That’s what it amounted to, and I'm not ashamed to admit it.”
“I was puzzled for a long time to know how this gang, for it is nothing less, managed to get enough money to pay for all this, but by employing their own methods, that is, by a little bribery, I discovered they had two of the wealthiest ponies in Coltombia backing them. These two handle all the rubber from the upper Xena, which is one of the biggest exports of the country, and for this reason they are known locally as the Rubber Barons. Quite apart from the treasure, they dislike me personally because they know I know the methods they used to become so rich, and it amounts to slavery when all’s said and done.”
A partly muffled scuffling from downstairs revealed that the opposing party had dared an attempt on the house. The pegasi leapt to their feet, but Brighteyes retained an utterly unconcerned expression.
“The pantry window is an obvious blind spot. Rather too obvious. You haven’t yet seen my collection of foreign, and very interesting, weaponry. I really need to re-organize that, it could be dangerous for somepony,” she said idly.
A series of crashes and yells, followed by the sounds of a rapid retreat, indicated that said weaponry had become a little more disorganized.
“Anyway, I sent you a courier to say I was on my way home. I was astonished again when, within a week, I saw Stinking and Wily Card in the park. I narrowly escaped, but I managed to get back to the house, missing a couple of hairs on my tail. The next move was when they tried to get into the house at night. I nailed up the windows on the ground floor and got my crossbows out. I am a mare of few wants, and the small staff I had left me, thinking I was insane. I had to let them go; it was not much use trying to explain the position to them. And that’s how things stand at the moment. I am here alone with those villains in the park. You see, even if I could get out and ask for protection, they would just fade away, and return when everypony had left again. What can I do?”
“I tried to escape, but each time they drove me back, for these rogues do not hesitate to use their weapons. So there we are,” concluded the old mare with a grim smile.
“Well, if anypony except you told me that tale I should say he was off his rocker,” declared Daring emphatically, “but, knowing you, I can only say I am glad we’ve flown up to lend a hand. We shall even things up a bit, I hope. What do you think of it, Bucks?”
“Same as you,” agreed Bucks decisively. “But what are we going to do about it?”
“It’s difficult to see what can be done about it,” admitted Brighteyes. “I don’t feel like being run out of my own house, but at the same time I feel even worse about living as a cat in a tree with a terrier at the bottom.”
Daring nodded. “I think you’re right there,” she agreed. “The obvious plan that occurs to me is to go out and let these toughs have a dose of their own medicine, but that, as you say, might only lead to complications. The alternative seems to be to get away and lie low; they might clear off when they discovered you’re gone.”
“Yes, but they’ll certainly try to follow me, and this state of affairs would only be repeated elsewhere. The ideal thing would be to give them the slip entirely and get back to the south while they are looking for me here.”
“The south? Out of Equestria again?” echoed Daring with a trace of a grin.
“Of course. Where else? I certainly do not propose to abandon my quest altogether on account of a bunch of cut-throats.”
“Going back into the frying pan sounds like a grim proposition to me,” muttered Daring doubtfully.
“I do have friends there, as well as enemies,” replied Brighteyes.
“Well, you please yourself, but I should feel inclined to leave it alone if i were you,” advised Bucks. “After all, Daring claims you have plenty of money. Why risk everything to get more?”
Brighteyes shrugged her shoulders. “It really isn’t how much the treasure is worth that appeals to me; it is the historical value of what I know exists there. We still know almost nothing about the llamas and what happened to them.”
“I see,” replied Daring slowly. “Well, if you are determined to go back, the thing is to think of the quickest way of getting out there, getting the treasure, and then getting back.”
“Precisely!”
“Have you ever thought of flying?” enquired Daring, after a moment’s pause.
It was Brighteyes’s turn to start. “I have not,” she said emphatically, wiggling her entirely wingless back. “Most certainly I have not. Do you for one moment suppose I am likely to risk my neck in one of your crazy cloud chariots?”
“You might do worse,” retorted Daring, frowning. “I can’t understand ponies like you. You take the most outrageous risks with crazy collectors, poisonous reptiles, wild beasts, fever, and Goddesses know what else, yet you jib at the safest form of transport in the world.”
“But-”
“Never mind but,” broke in Daring. “It looks to me as if you haven’t much choice if you don’t want to be murdered en route. Dash it all, it seems to me the answer to the question.”
“I couldn’t see anypony pulling a chariot over those mountains, even in the air.”
“Dash the mountains. I’m not flying over them myself, so you needn’t worry about that. We could fly to Appleloosa, put the chariot in a storage cart, and take the train over the mountains. We’d fly onwards when we were past.”
“Why do you say ‘we’?”
“We three. Who else?”
“Then you’d come?”
“Of course we’d come. I was only saying to Bucks as we came up to the house I was about sick of loafing about. This sounds interesting enough to me.”
“I don’t know what to think about it,” muttered Brighteyes anxiously. “I think the best thing would be for you to work out a definite plan of action for the whole trip. Then we’ll talk about it, and see if it seems doable. How’s that?”
“Fine! But first you’d better tell me a few things about the Matey Grocer-”
“The Matto Grosso.”
“Sorry. Well, tell us about it, so that Bucks and I can see if we’ll need anything special.”
“Very well, the atlas is in the library, and the windows there have a better view of the grounds, in case our besiegers try any funny stuff.”
“They won’t find it so funny if they do,” growled Daring as they made their way to the long, low, oak-panelled room which was used as a library.
“The Matto Grosso,” began Brighteyes when they had made themselves comfortable, “is nominally a province of Coltombia. Actually it takes up the vast majority of the the explored south. To the north lies the Xena, the mountains, and Equestria. To the west, the even greater range of the llama homeland, and to the south another vast tract of entirely unexplored territory. It is hard to describe the sheer extent of the place. It is nearly twice as large as Equestria, with many unknown parts. It is possibly the wildest country in the world today. There are plains and forests larger than the Kingdom of Canterlot, and inhabited by tribes of wild ponies, some of whom have not yet even heard of the Princesses. The grazing is poor, but it is a rich land nonetheless, rich in precious metals and gems, as well as rare plants. The greatest wealth of the settlers has come from the rubber, which, as you know, is collected from the trees which exist near the banks of the rivers, which are the only highways for us earth-bound folk.”
“They’d be the only places to safely land a chariot, too,” mused Daring. “What are the weather conditions like?”
“It’s all wild of course, even over the larger towns. On the uplands it can be cold at night but, being in the tropics, the days are usually very hot. Storms of rain greater than any pegasus screw-up sweep across the country in the monsoon season.
“Any wild beasts, lions or things like that?” asked Bucks anxiously.
Brighteyes laughed. “No lions,” she said. “Plenty of other dangerous creatures, jaguars and less familiar things. The rivers are full of crocodiles, and pirahnas are found in many places.”
“I can see I shan’t do much swimming,” muttered Daring with a grimace. “I suppose there’ll be snakes as well?”
“Oh, yes, you’ll find snakes everywhere, both on the land and in the water, including some of the largest in the world. They often run upwards of seven metres in length. I could tell you some queer stories about snakes,” mused the old explorer reflectively.
“You shouldn’t, not unless you me to change my mind about coming,” interposed Daring.
“The snakes don’t really matter; one soon gets accustomed to them,” went on Brighteyes. “The real pests are the insects, and they do scare me, I must confess. There are so many of them. There are bees which do not sting, but make your life a misery by crawling all over you, into your eyes, ears, nostrils and even mouth.”
“We can fly higher than they can,” observed Daring confidently.
“You might, but they’ll be waiting for you when you land,” said Brighteyes drily. ”The ants are the worst. They are everywhere in countless myriads, in all colours and sizes. Sometimes they march about in columns, and sometimes they work independently, but they are always on the rampage. I don’t know which are the worst, the big saubas, which are over an inch long and bite like a manticore, or the cupim, which are the notorious white ants and the most destructive creatures in the world. Nothing is safe from them. Leave a pair of saddlebags on the ground and they will be gone come morning, carried away in thousands of tiny pieces. They eat the entire middles out of trees, which is one of the reasons trees are always crashing down in the forest. You must never forget that the ant, not they give you much chance of forgetting them, for they are the real rulers of the country.”
“Then there are the piums, tiny beasts worse than mosquitoes which squirt a sort of acid into your eyes, and the polvoras- the name really means ‘powder,’ because they are so small. They fly about literally in billions and sting you all over. Worse still perhaps, is the little horror known as the carrapato, which is a flat beast the size of a quill-tip. It has unbelievable clinging powers by means of the hooks on its feet. Its great goal in life is to stick its head under your coat and suck your blood. The trouble is, you can’t get it off. If you pull it the head breaks off and sticks in your skin, makes for a nasty sore.
Brighteyes paused to let her words sink in.
“Any more horrors?” asked Bucks.
“Plenty,” replies Brighteyes, grinning. “There are the carrapatinhos, which are the younger a perhaps more active brothers of the carrapatos?”
“Don’t tell me about them,” broke in Daring quickly.
“Sounds a good place for a picnic,” observed Bucks drily.
“Tell me this,” asked Daring: “what are our chances of landing near the treasure? I mean, is there a flat plain, or river nearby where the chariot could get down?”
“And however would you plan to land a chariot in a river? I’m afraid that will be the only option, there’s no flat ground for some distance.”
“Not a problem, Brightma. We attach a drifter, which is rather like a large fabric balloon, to the underside of the chariot, and it floats, just like that.”
“Then I should think that the rivers would be the safest places to land, but you will have to wary of waterfalls, rapids and a whole plethora of dangerous creatures. In any case, in order to reach the place we should have to fly up the river, at least as far as Mahorse, which is the best part of a thousand miles from the edge of the mountains, in order to be as near as possible to our destination with a full load of stores. I have a contact there who should have supplies ready for us by the time we arrive if I send a note now. You must understand there is absolutely nothing anywhere else, nothing except what i have told you. There are no settlements or places where food can be obtained, besides foraging in the jungle”
“I should tell you, the actual treasure is on, or rather in, a hill. I’ll explain the deatils, then you’ll get a better grasp of the whole thing.” Brighteyes refilled her pipe and settled a little deeper in her chair before attempting to continue. She was interrupted by more sounds from the depths of the house.
With a faint smile of amusement, she gestured for the others to sit again. “If one of these thugs was a little brighter than the others, as I suspect my friend Wily Card to be, he might have found the passage leading from the ice-house to the cellar. Have I mentioned my collection of snakes? Poor things, they don’t like our dry air. I find it helps to keep them somewhere damp. None of them are very poisonous, but it can be hard to tell in the dark.
A faint scream seemed to confirm this theory.
“I was exploring a tributary of the Madeira River, which in turn is a tributary of the Xena, travelling, of course, by canoe. The difficulties of travelling overland are almost insurmountable. I had four porters with me, as I have told you, and a pretty lot of cutthroats they were. I had already overheard them discussing the possibility of making off with my kit, and you can readily imagine that travelling in these circumstances becomes a bit of strain. We were in an interesting stretch of country. If you look at the maps of the district, such as they are, you will see mountain ranges dotted about. They are usually shown in the maps many miles from where they really are; indeed, I came to the conclusion years ago that most of the physical features on the maps are just stuck in the map-makers for decoration.”
“I had wandered away along such a range of mountains and came to the side of a steep cliff, which rose perhaps a thousand feet or so above the small stream along which I was walking. As far as I know, no living ponies had been there before, the nearest being the Bororo, who at that time had an encampment about a hundred miles to the north. These wild tribes are nomadic. They burn the undergrowth, dig the earth, plant their corn, being all earth ponies, and then, as the jungle closes in on it, as it does astonishingly quickly, they move on the a new place. They wear big macaw feathers in their manes, and are altogether unwelcoming to outsiders. I was quite glad I was some way away and that I was in a district where, as far as I knew, they never came.”
“I was just passing a big fissure, or crack in the rock, when my eye fell on something that grabbed my attention. It was a rock carving, quite small and simple, the sort of design a schoolfilly might make with a hoof while idly waiting for somepony. I took a closer look at the design and nearly let out a yell, for the design, which represented a pair of stars, was characteristically of Llama origin. It was definite proof of my theories, as it showed conclusively that at least one llama had come as far westward as this spot. I trotted around looking for more, but in vain, and I thought that something might be found in the cleft itself, so in I went. The first thing I stumbled on was a piece of pottery, also unmistakably of llama manufacture. Horn-lighting my way, I advanced, and soon picked up a copper spear. That settled it, for the llamas were the only race to discover the secret of tempering copper to a steel-like hardness.”
“As you can imagine, I began to see I was on the track of something. The cleft had by this time widened out into quite a cave, and I went on slowly. Then i saw a small oblong article lying at my feet. I picked it up, and when i felt its weight I didn’t have to look to see what it was.” Brighteyes leaned forward dramatically.
“Gold,” she whispered, “a lump of solid gold. It was, in fact, the piece I have already shown you. Then I got a rather nasty surprise. The cave came to an abrupt end. Side to side, floor to ceiling was a wall that had obviously been built by hooves. It was formed of great blocks of stone, slotted together without mortar, and fitting so tightly you couldn’t get a hay-stalk between them. Only one race in the world could do that. Llamas. The ruins of Cuzcolt abound in walls and buildings which are constructed in the same way.”
“Well, there it was. What lay behind the wall? I didn’t know, but I could guess. Obviously they hadn’t built a wall like that just for fun, no matter how odd llamas seem to have been. No, it hid something the builders were eager to hide, and the bar of gold I had found told its own story. Perhaps they had left a guard at the entrance while they were working, and that guard, in a fit of absent-mindedness, had carelessly left a mark which betrayed the secret.”
“Trembling with excitement, I hurried back to the entrance to of the cave. It was nearly dark outside, I had been in there longer than I thought. However, I reached camp and found things in a serious state; my porter were having one of their regular mutinies, but one glance showed me it was worse than usual. Stinking came up to me with a nasty frown on his face and told me he wouldn’t go on any farther; they wanted their pay and were going home. I gave them their money and told them they could get off as soon as they liked and I hoped they enjoyed being ambushed by the natives. That was the usual way I met their demands, and from experience I knew perfectly well that when it came to the pinch they wouldn’t go, because with out me they knew they had a jolly poor chance of getting through.”
“Then things went bad. I was taking off my saddlebags, to wash, when the material, rotten with the damp heat, broke under the weight of the gold which was in the pocket and the lump of yellow metal fell to the ground. Stinking broke off in the middle of a sentence and stared at it, transfixed. Then he dragged his eyes away and looked at me. He knew what it was, for I saw a look of greed and hatred in his eyes. I picked it up carelessly, as if it were nothing important, but it didn’t deceive him, and soon after I saw him in earnest conversation with the others. I was in a pretty pickle, and I knew it. It was out of the question to think of breaking down the wall in the cave, for the scoundrels would never now let me out of their sight, and if they saw what I suspected was behind that wall, my life wouldn’t be worth a bit. Luckily they didn’t know where the place was, but they knew I did. What to do, I didn’t know, but finally I slung my hammock, as usual, some distance from them and rested to think it over.”
“I slept with one eye open, as the saying goes, I had become pretty adept at it. I wasn’t in the least bit surprised when, just after midnight, I saw a dark shadow crawling towards me in the moonlight. As it came nearer I saw it was Stinking, his mouth twisted by a knife he held in his teeth. Pretending to be sound asleep, I felt quietly for my weapon and let him come on. I waited until he was about ten yards away, and then, with a shout, I sprang from the hammock. He jumped to his hooves and would have bolted like the coward he was, but I was furious and fetched him a blow to the face. The knife flew out of his mouth, and he started babbling, but he picked himself up and ran off moaning. I let him go, what else could I do? I couldn’t make a prisoner of him in such a place, and even then I wasn’t angry enough to actually consider killing him.”
“I heard a commotion as he reached the others and then the sounds of weapons, crossbows and spears, being readied- they had made sure they were armed as protection against the dangers of the jungle. I called out to them that i would shoot the first man who showed himself before daylight, and, thinking I would be as good as my word, they drew off, muttering. As you can well imagine, I didn’t have much sleep for the rest of the night, but towards morning I must have dozed off, for when I opened my eyes it was near daylight. I thought everything sounded very quiet; there was none of the usual grumbling and moaning of the porters loading the canoe. I was soon to discover the reason. They had gone, and that was not all. Gone, too, were all my stores, everything except my saddlebags and hat. I was alone in the forest, more than five hundred miles from the nearest point of civilization. I don’t mind admitting I was pretty well stunned for a bit, as I had no delusions about what that meant. I thought I was a goner, and that’s a fact. Death from starvation or in a dozen other ways stared me in the face. If you have ideas about reaching out and picking bananas or coconuts in the south, forget it. What few edible fruits and nuts exist are only on the tops of the trees, where the birds and monkeys alone can reach them. Those that fall to the ground are immediately carried away piecemeal by the ants.”
“By a marvelous piece of luck I had with me a fair amount of food. I manged to survive on that and what leaves and grasses I chanced across. You’ll believe me when I tell you that my adventures on the rest of that trip, which took nearly six months, would fill a book. What with fever and hunger, I often went days on ends with nothing past my lips, I was not exactly a pretty specimen when I was discovered by a rubber collector and taken to his hut. As soon as I was able to get on my feet I made my way slowly down the river to Mahorse. There, as I told you, I got another shock when I discovered my late carriers and two Manehattenites, Wily Card and a new villian, a pegasus mare called Drizzle, setting off to find the treasure. They failed, and the rest you know. The point is, what is the next move?” concluded Brighteyes.
Daring pondered deeply for a few minutes. “Frankly, I see no reason why this trip to the Mater Grasso-”
“Matto Grosso,” corrected Brighteyes again.
“Sorry. Well, I don’t see why it shouldn’t be undertaken by sky, but the carriages can be quite pricey.”
“It would cost that anyway,” declared Brighteyes. “On my last trip I spent thousands of bits on equipment. Why, I had to pay my porters ten bits a day, and feed them, and food up there costs its weight in gold.”
“All right then,” said Daring conclusively, “If your willing to hoof the bill I’ll tell you what we’ll do. I’ll get away from here after dark, leaving Bucks to help you to hold the fort, so to speak. You give me an open cheque on your bank and some money for expenses, and I’ll buy a four-seater amphibian, so we can all fit inside if we have to, and the rest of the equipment we are likely to require. I’ll look up Shamrock, he’s been part of my crew before, and is an expert on the carriages, and get him to come with us. I don’t think he’ll need much persuading. I’ll have the carriage shipped over the mountains, and Shamrock can go with it. Then I’ll come back here in a hired chariot, arriving about dawn, and pick you up in that long meadow at the end of the garden. I ought to be able to get back here in a week.”
“The night before I’m due to arrive, you and Bucks pack up here, and you creep out to the edge of the field, and lie hidden. As soon as I touch the ground, break cover and jump on. I’m not the strongest flier, but there won’t be anytime for Bucks to hook up, and hopefully we should be away before Stinking and his toughs spot the game. The advantage of flying is they wont know which way we’ve gone, won’t be able to track us. Once in the air, we’ll return the machine and take the Express to the mountains. As soon as we get there we’ll assemble the carriage and head in a beeline for Mahorse. Make sure your agent there will have supplies ready for us. How’s that?”
“As far as nigh-suicidal expeditions that I haven’t been asked about go, it sounds good to me,” grudgingly agreed Bucks.
“Splendid,” said Brighteyes, grinning. “It would give me the greatest pleasure to outwit these villains after all. When do you propose to start?”
“Tonight. We’ve decided to go with this, so there’s no point in wasting time. The sooner we get on, the better; besides, you’ll be running out of food, I expect.”
Brighteyes said grimly, “I hope neither of you have the idea that this is going to be altogether a picnic. Knowing what I know about the south, I should say there are exciting times ahead.”
Even so, she little guessed just how exciting they were to be.
Daring-Do and the Cruise of the Celestia
The grandfather clock in the hall had just struck ten when Daring-Do pushed her couch back, and rose to her hooves. “Well,” she said, “I’ll be off before the moon gets up; this is the darkest it will be tonight.”
Brighteyes looked at her anxiously, half inclined to withdraw from the scheme that already put her niece’s life in jeopardy. “For Celestia’s sake be careful,” the mare cautioned her niece, and don’t make the mistake of underestimating those thugs outside. They’re used to playing rough in their own country, and will stop at nothing to get what they want.”
Daring frowned. “If they try any rough stuff on me, they’ll get as good as they give,” she said shortly. “You’ll probably have a tougher proposition to face here,” she added, putting on her hat and saddlebags.
“What about weapons?” asked Brighteyes.
Daring shook her head dubiously. “Better without ‘em. It would be far too much trouble, even in self-defence, if somepony got hurt. There’d be no way we could carry on the expedition with the Guards wanting to talk to us.”
Daring forced the nailed-up kitchen window open as quietly as possible, using the tongs from the fireplace as a lever.
She peered long and steadily into the darkness. “It seems quiet enough,” she whispered, throwing one leg over the window-sill. A moment later she was swallowed up by the night.
At the edge of the bushes she held still and listened intently before crossing the exposed drive to the shrubbery beyond. She glanced upwards. A few stars were shining dimly, and, although the moon had not yet risen, there was just enough light to see without fear of colliding with obstacles. Slowly and with infinite care she parted the bushes and peered out. There was not a soul in sight; the only sound was the dismal hooting of an owl nearby.
Swiftly but silently she darted across the track, freezing into immobility when she reached the deep gloom of the shrubbery on the other side. Was it or was it not? Had she seen a movement in the bushes a little lower down? She was not sure, for she knew only too well how easily one’s imagination can play tricks at night when the nerves are stretched taut.
Suddenly, not far away, a twig cracked, and she knew she had not been mistaken. Despite the cool air her heart beat a little faster and a curious gleam came into her eyes, the look they had worn when, not so long before, she had first seen the Temple of Sapphire Stone.
“It looks as if Brightma was right,” she thought, for the enemy obviously kept good watch. With her front left hoof advanced to prevent collision with unseen objects, she stealthily edged her way a few paces further on. Another twig cracked, closer this time. Again Daring stood stock-still, eyes straining into the darkness, trying to make out the direction from which the sound had come. She thought it came from the right, but a moment later a bush rustled softly on the left and she caught her breath sharply. It began to look as if her exit had been seen after all and the enemy were closing in on her.
Her lips set in the lopsided grin peculiar to her in moments of impending action. Intuition warned her that something was about to happen, and she was not wrong. The beam of a firefly light stabbed the darkness, swept round swiftly, coming to rest on Daring. Instantly she dropped to her knees, not a moment too soon. Something heavy whistled through he air over her head. She leapt sideways like a cat and collided with a figure that loomed up before him. Acting with the speed of light, she brought a hoof up with a viscous jab into the mare’s stomach. There was a chocking grunt as she collapsed, clutching feebly at Daring’s legs as she fell, but the adventurer, thinking and acting simultaneously as she had learned from her long experience avoiding deadly traps, was no longer there.
Casting all pretence at concealment to the winds, she darted away through the bushes, dodging and twisting like a snipe. She heard the crack of a crossbow; out of the corner of her eye she saw another figure and heard the bolt rip through the branches just above her head. “Like old times,” she found time to mutter to herself as she broke through the far side of the bushes and sprinted along the edge. For a few minutes she heard sounds of pursuit; shouts curses and the crash of bodies plunging though bushes. Again the crossbow cracked, and her lips parted in a smile as she heard an angry shout in answer, warning the bowman to be careful where they were shooting. “Bucks looks to be having a rough time if he tries any flying practice,” she thought as, with her eyes fixed ahead, she ran on.
Presently the sounds of pursuit died down behind her and she slowed down enough to take her bearings. She decided she must have broken through the cordon, and with great satisfaction headed towards the nearest village at a steady trot.
Meanwhile Brighteyes and Bucks had stood staring at the open window through which Daring had disappeared, the former with obvious anxiety, the latter with supreme confidence born of long experience with far greater perils.
“I hope I have done the right thing,” breathed Brighteyes. “I should never forgive myself if, after all she has been through-”
“I shouldn’t worry,” broke in Bucks. “Daring can take care of herself, never fear.”
For some time they stood in silence, listening for any sound which might indicate the discovery of the adventurer, but all was still.
“I think she must have got through,” whispered Brighteyes with a sigh of relief.
She had hardly spoken the words when there came a sudden shout, and the sound of a ‘bow came from outside, followed by the sounds of a scuffle.
Brighteyes whinnied nervously, groaning, “That’s done it.”
“Certainly not,” replied Bucks shortly. “Daring has been in danger before, don’t forget.”
Again they stood listening, trying to hear some sound that would let them know whether Daring had been captured or made her escape.
“Shh!” breathed Bucks. “Don’t move. Under the apple tree, over in the corner- I saw movement. Look! There’s another of them- over by the yew hedge. They’re making for the house. All right, we’ll give them something to think about.” He hurried through to the hall, closely followed by Brighteyes, and picked up the heavy arquebus. “Is it loaded?” he asked quickly.
“Yes,” replied Brighteyes, “but-”
“That’s alright,” muttered Bucks. “I’m not going to kill anypony.” And, turning, ran quickly up the staircase. He entered the door of a bedroom that commanded a view from the front of the house and opened the window quietly. Not a sound broke again the stillness of the summer night.
“There’s one of them,” breathed Brighteyes, “Over there under the rhododendron bushes.”
“I see him; leave him to me,” whispered Bucks. He took quick aim at the tops of the bushes and pulled the trigger.
The crash as the huge bolt struck a tree-trunk seemed to shake even the house to its foundations. A full minute elapsed before the echoes had died away.
“Listen out there!” called Bucks. “I’m giving you fair warning that the first to put hoof within twenty paces of the house will get a little more of that.”
Into the silence that followed, a sound of crashing and stumbling came from several places among the bushes.
Bucks smiled. “That should give them something to think about, anyway,” he muttered grimly. “All the same,” he went on, “I shall be glad when the week is up; it’s going to be pretty monotonous sitting here doing nothing except keep guard.”
The stars were paling in the faint grey light that crept upward in the eastern sky, heralding the coming of dawn. Somewhere in the thick copse that bordered the long pasture a bird began to chirp, followed by his fellows. A blackbird burst out of the hedge with a shrill clamour of alarm.
“Dash that bird,” grumbled Bucks from where he crouched low in a thicket near the edge of the wood. “It will give the game away if we aren’t careful.”
Brighteyes looked up from where she was curled round a suitcase, and nooded. “I hope to goodness she comes,” she whispered. “I’m wondering how we shall get back to the house if she doesn’t.”
“I shouldn’t waste time thinking about that,” whispered Bucks; “you evidently haven’t had much experience with Daring. She’ll come alright. Just pray for the weather to stay fine; that’s the most important thing.”
A week had passed since Daring had departed on her quest, and , in accordance with their plans, Brighteyes and Bucks had made their way to the rendezvous, to await the promised sky-carriage. Fortunately the night had been dark, and, leaving a house by a side window soon after midnight, they had been able to worm their way to the appointed place. It had been nerve-wracking work, for in the interval of time they had seen members of the enemy camp repeatedly, and it was obvious the siege was being maintained.
The early morning air was chilly, and Bucks watched the sky anxiously. Slowly the light grew stronger, and a bright patch of turquoise appeared overhead as the sun rose over the horizon.
“She’s coming!” Brighteyes’ voice literally trembled with excitement.
For answer, Bucks pointed to a tiny speck in the sky, which the older mare had seen before even his practiced eye. It was approaching rapidly, and any doubts that they might have had that it was not Daring, but another wandering carriage, were soon put to rest, for it was heading straight towards them.
“Don’t move until she touches down,” warned Bucks. The contraption began to slide-slip steeply towards the field in which they lay. “I expect other eyes besides ours are watching her,” went on Bucks. “You’ll have to sprint for all you’re worth when it’s time.”
The carriage, perfectly handled, swung round the field, levelled out, and dropped as lightly as a feather on the dewy turf.
“Come on, Brighteyes, run for it,” grunted Bucks, snatching a bulky bundle from the ground at their hooves, which contained the few items Brighteyes considered indispensable. “Never mind me, straight to the carriage.”
As Bucks took off, she broke from the bushes and ran towards the carriage. The pilot saw them almost at once, and began to move towards them, towing the carriage.
The runner heard her shout, but her words were drowned by sudden yells from behind. Without pausing in her stride, Brighteyes snatched a fleeting glance over her shoulder; three ponies were just emerging from the edge of the wood, one wielding a cudgel.
Panting, Brighteyes reached the machine, tumbling into the passenger space headfirst as a rock flew overhead, propelled by a unicorn’s magic, but the carriage was already moving forward with Daring’s straining muscles; the pegasus leapt into the air as it raced across the turf. Bump-bump-bump- the carriage rocked over grass-covered molehills as it refused to leave the ground. Brighteyes stared aghast at the line of trees ahead. Would she never lift? She saw at a glance that it would be a close thing.
Daring, strapped in the harness, had her eyes riveted on the formidable line of trees and knew it would be touch and go whether they clear them or not. While she was in peak condition, her wings were not especially strong, however manoeuvrable she could be. She flew straight until the last moment to get as much speed as possible, then , when collision seem inevitable, soared upwards. She held her breath as the weight of the carriage threatened to pull her back to Equestria, but then her natural magic asserted itself, stabilising pony and carriage.
Bucks saw the shift in weight, and relaxed limply, knowing only too well how near they had been to disaster at the very onset of their quest. He fell into the carriage’s slipstream, checking Brighteyes had come through the traumatic experience intact, and caught Daring’s infectious grin. She held her left hoof high in the air with a triumphant gesture, and they returned the salute, which means the same thing the whole world over.
…
Estimating her altitude at five thousand hooves, Daring looked a trifle apprehensively down at the unusual scene below as she headed westward, pulling a rugged floating-chariot. Immediately below, a broad, winding silver ribbon marked the course of the Xena. On both sides lay the forest, dark and brooding, a great somber pall on the face of the earth, merging into vague purple and blue shadows at the remote horizon. There was nothing else; not a road, a field or an isolated tree that might be taken for a landmark. It was a far cry from densely-populated Equestria. The utter sameness of it had appalled both Daring and Bucks at first, but now they were growing accustomed to it, for they were far up the river, approaching Mahorse, the strange city founded by gem-hunting pioneers many years ago in the savage heart of a savage continent.
Daring glanced at Bucks, harnessed beside her, and smiled, for their plans had gone like clockwork since they had left Equestria a month before. Even the weather had been its best behaviour. They had taken the train at Trottingham, and on arrival at Windsoar, the outpost beyond the southern mountains, found the huge case containing the chariot Daring had purchased had already been emptied by the industrious Shamrock, a stocky red earth pony, tough as a bull, and, as Bucks often joked, maybe even as clever.
Bucks had looked her over as Daring explained the reasons for her choice. She was a four-seater that had been specially built as a pleasure craft for a private owner, who had had an unfortunate accident involving a stampede of rabbits before he had even time to take delivery. Consequently Daring had been able to get a bargain. The chariot was open topped, but had a back end, allowing the ample floor space to be used for rest. The dual harness could let either or both of the pegasi pull, as necessary. The formerly luxurious interior had been largely stripped out by Shamrock in order to save weight and make room for the equipment and stores needed for their adventure.
Bucks agreed that Daring had just cause to be proud of her bargain, for it could not have suited their purpose better had it been specially designed for the undertaking. There had been some discussion about the selection of a suitable name, but the choice had finally been left to Brighteyes, who had decided on the Celestia, both as a tribute to the Princess and for the Celestial Condor, the huge white bird that rules the mighty mountains of the south.
The tests were satisfactory in every way, and they had forthwith taken off on the long voyage southwards to the land of their quest.
Daring nudged her flying partner and nodded, her eyes fixed on a spot directly ahead, and Bucks, following her glance, saw in the distance an expanse of whitewashed buildings which he knew must be Mahorse, their immediate destination and the last point of civilization they would touch before plunging into the vast hinterland.
The landing of the floating chariot caused a considerable commotion, ponies hurrying from their homes to the waterside, and it was clear that a sky chariot was a very rare bird in the town so removed from the rest of civilization. Canoes and other small craft flocked about them as the pegasi, staying out of the water, towed the Celestia to a suitable anchorage.
A larger boat approached, with an official in a gaudy hat standing in the bows. She shouted something unintelligible to Daring, but Brighteyes evidently understood, for she cautioned the other mare to stop.
“I’m afraid she’s going to be awkward,” she said, frowning. “That’s the worst of them,” she added; “they must exercise their powers on every possible occasion. We shall have to listen to what she has to say.”
The appearance of the official did not improve at close quarters. Her uniform did little to hide a bad case of bed-mane, while her face was flushed with anger.
“What do you mean, landing at this hour?” she stormed. “Don’t you know I always rest at this time? You would not dare to treat the officers in your own country in this way-” She broke off with a start and stared at Brighteyes with a flash of recognition. “Ah!” she said softly, and then again, “Ah! It’s you, is it?” She scowled malevolently, and, before Brighteyes could frame a suitable answer, the other mare had snapped an order to the pony at the oars. The craft swung round, nearly fouling the side of the chariot as it did so, and headed rapidly back to the shore.
Brighteyes, a frown puckering her brow, watched the departing official in perplexity. “She seems to know me and I strongly suspect she’s going to make things as awkward for us as she can. Never mind; it can’t be helped. Get to the bank; let me go ashore. The sooner I find my contact and ask him about the supplies the better. If he did, we can see about leaving at once. I’m rather afraid we’ve made a mistake in coming here at all, but it was difficult to imagine where we could restock otherwise. If the men who are financing the enemy are in town, they’ll know I am here by now, and will have guessed why. Yes, you’ll have to put me ashore; the rest of you must stay aboard and look after the chariot until I come back. i shall soon find out how the land lies.”
Still followed by a crowd of the inhabitants in small boats, they taxied in and dropped anchor near the bank. Brighteyes beckoned one the boats one of the boats nearer, jumped abroad, and, after rattling off some brief instruction to the startled native, was quickly put ashore. With a parting wave she disappeared in the direction of a row of small shops near the waterfront.
“I don’t like the look of this,” said Daring to Bucks as they watched Brighteyes’ receding figure. “Some of these ponies look capable of anything. Well, we might as well make ourselves comfortable as we can until she comes back. My word, it’s pretty hot down here, isn’t it?”
An hour passed slowly, and another, but still there was no sign of Brighteyes, and Daring’s face began to assume a worried aspect. “I don’t like this,” she said again; “I’ve a feeling in my bones that there’s mischief brewing. If there is, and they try any funny stuff, they’ll be sorry, and that’s that. Those supplies would have been here an hour ago if everything had been alright.”
Bucks nodded assent from where he sat watching Shamrock making a minor adjustment with a wrench. “It’ll be dark in half an hour, too,” he went on, with a quick glance at the sky. “Hullo, what’s this coming?”
A smallish boat had put off from the shore and was winding its way quickly through the still lingering spectators in their miscellaneous assortment of small craft. it pulled up alongside,a nd they saw at once there was only one pony in it, an elderly white stallion in a battered cap.
“Which of you is Daring-Do?” he asked sharply. “I’m Carthorse, your aunt’s agent. Speak up. You’ve no time to lose.”
Daring stepped forward quickly and helped their visitor on board. “I’m your mare,” she said quickly. “What’s wrong?”
“Everything- no, don’t talk; listen,” he went on with a hurried glance towards the shore. “Miss Daring, I’m sorry to say your aunt is in jail.”
“In jail!” echoed Daring incredulously. “But-”
“It looks to me as if you’re haunch-deep in it,” broke in Carthorse, mopping his perspiring face with a large yellow handkerchief. “Luckily I was able to have a word with your aunt before they took her away. When I got her note about the supplies I kept my mouth shut, because, being on the spot, I knew what was going on out here, and had a pretty shrewd idea of what this gang of crooks who are up against him were planning. By a stroke of luck I got hold of the supplies before they knew who it was for.”
“Who’s ‘they’?” asked Daring quickly.
“La Dorada, the Mayor, and the best hated mare in Mahorse. She’s a tyrant in every sense of the word, and, like many of these local officials, can easily be bought. The crooks, the Rubber Kings, have oiled her hoof for some purpose, and she’s out to stop you. She’s clapped your aunt in jail on some ridiculous pretext that her papers are not in order. it’s utter rubbish, of course, and the Equestrian Consul in Windsoar will soon put matter right when it reaches her ears, but that will take time, which is just what La Dorada is playing for, until the rest of the gang get back from Equestria.”
“Meanwhile, La Dorada is cock of the walk back here, make no mistake. What she says goes, without any argument, because she’s got a mob of hooligans dressed up in uniform which she calls Guards, but is really a private bodyguard paid for out of trumped-up taxes and fines on Equestrians like you and myself. Now about these supplies. It would be fatal for me to try to get them to you here. they’d stop me and have the lot. Your only chance is to get off down the river, and I’ll bring it to you there. You might be able to drift down after dark without being spotted, which would be so much the better, but I doubt they’ll leave you heave as long as that. La Dorada would be happy to throw the lot of you in prison then smash your machine before you could get out. She knows she’s safe. There’s no real authority out here. Now listen About two miles downstream you’ll see a creek with a ruined hut on one bank. You get off down there and wait until I get there. I shall have to slip back into town, because they know I’ve worked for your aunt and will probably be watching me. They me be watching now, and if they find I'm playing into their hands I shall land in jail myself, or find myself prone to nasty accidents.”
“Bad as that, are they?” muttered Daring grimly.
“Worse!”
“What about Brightma- I mean my aunt?”
“That’s a bigger problem. You’ve got to get her out of that jail, and quickly, though how it’s going to be done is beyond me.”
“Where is this jail?”
“In the middle of the town, the street with a double row of palms. I dropped one of the thugs a couple of bits and he told me they’re keeping her there until tomorrow, as La Dorada wants to talk to her. Then, unless she tells the mayor what she wants to know, they are going to take her to the proper jail in the native end of the town. If they get her in there, you’ll never see her again. It’s full of criminals, the scum of the earth, and half of them rotting with fever, leprosy and Princesses know what other horrors. It’s a rat-hole, not a jail. If you want to see her alive again you’ll have to get her out tonight.”
“In that case she’s coming out tonight,” muttered Daring through set teeth, “and Nightmare take Miss Slimy Dorada if she gets in my way. Thanks very much, Carthorse. It’s good of you to take all these risks for us. We shan’t forget it.”
“Well, set off down the river as fast as you can before they come after you. They’d tear this contraption to bits if they got their hooves on it, to prevent you going about your business. And, by the way, I found out that Wily Card and Drizzle have already made it to Windsoar. Apparently they guessed as soon as they you gave them the slip back in Equestria that you’d head here, and they started off back as hard as they could go. You’ve less of a breathing space than we hoped.”
“I see,” replied Daring. “Well, you get off back now before you get in trouble. Brightma left your address, but I shan’t bother you unless it is unavoidable. If things become serious, i should be glad if you would get a message to the Embassy. I should hate to see you get pulled into this mess too, through trying to help us.”
“Rot! Never mind about that; if one Equestrian can’t help another in a case like this, it’s a poor show.”
“That’s how it should be done,” agreed Daring. “When will you be along with the supplies?”
“As soon after dark as I can manage it.”
“We’ll be there. Thank you, and goodbye.”
Daring watched the boat until it reached the bank before she turned to the others with a grimace. “It looks as if we’re about to get busy.”
“Horseapples, so it does!” cried Bucks, clambering to his hooves and pointing towards the bank some distance above the place where Carthorse had gone ashore. “He was only just in time. I don’t like the look of this little lot.”
Daring swung round and took a look at a large launch that was churning the river into foam as it sped towards them. A group of rough-looking ponies stood near the bow. “Hook us up, Shamrock,” she snapped, pulling on her harness and moving to the front of the chariot.
The stallion reattached the yoke for the pegasi, then leapt into the cockpit. “Move!” he cried.
With a growl from Daring as she and Bucks pulled, the chariot began moving. A shout from the rapidly approaching launch reached her ears, but she ignored it. The chariot moved slowly at first, but with ever-increasing speed. Turning in a wide curve as it reached the middle of the river, it sped like an arrow down the stream, leaving a broad ribbon of creamy foam in its wake.
A twang, and the vicious rip of an arrow through the air nearby brought a snarl to Daring’s lips. “You murdering mules!” she choked, and threw herself against the traces. The chariot leapt forward like a live thing, skimmed along the surface of the water for a moment, and then rose gracefully into the air, climbing steeply.
Two minutes later, still climbing, Daring saw the creek, with the ruined hut on the bank, below her; she did not stop, but flew on into the quickly fading light. Not until they were several miles from the town did she turn, beginning a long glide back towards the rendevous.
Darkness fell with tropical suddenness just as the base of the Celestia broke the surface of the river, a short distance downstream of the deserted creek. Daring listened intently for a moment, and then, as there seemed to be no sign of pursuit, taxied into the creek itself.
“Well, that’s that,” she muttered, relieved, for the prospect of landing after dark on a strange, crocodile-infested river did not fill her with enthusiasm. She hoped the landing had been both unseen and unheard, the gentle current carrying them down until they rested on a flat, muddy beach.
“What next?” asked Bucks,as he stepped ashore and moored the chariot lightly, in case another hurried departure became necessary.
“We can do nothing but wait here until the supplies come,” replied Daring. “There can’t be more than a day or two left, and I shall feel a lot happier with a full load on board. Goodness knows when we shall get any more. If he brings more that we can carry, we’ll stack it in the cabin. But it’s getting Brightma out that I’m worried about; and that, without most of the locals knowing Equestrian, may be a little difficult. You’ll have to stay here and look after the chariot,” she went on firmly. “I’ll take Shamrock with me on this trip into the town. No! It’s no use arguing about it,” she went on quickly. “I know you’d like to come, and I’d like to have you with me, but you’re the only other one of the party who can fly, so you must stay with the machine. If we lose that, we’re sunk, even if we swim. After Brightma, that must be our first consideration. Whatever happens, they mustn’t get the Celestia. Once we’ve got the supplies and Brightma on board, they won’t see us for dust and small pebbles. Ah! There’s a cart coming now. Pass me that crossbow from the cabin. I’m taking no chances. They took the first crack at us, and they’re going to find that two can play at that game before we’re finished.”
The cart stopped near them, the figure pulling it mercifully familiar.
“Is that you, Miss Daring?” called a voice softly.
“Alright, Carthorse,” replied the mare in question. “Do you have what we need?”
“Yes, it’s all here. Carter, please.”
“Good stuff! Let’s see about getting it all on board, then. All hands on deck. Shamrock, help pass it up, we’ll pack it. Sling the empty crates away, we shan’t want them again.”
For an hour they toiled with feverish speed and without a break, and at the end of that time they had provisions packed for at least another month.
“That’s a good job done,” said Daring with satisfaction, mopping her streaming face, for the moist heat of the tropical forest was intense. “Are you going straight back to Mahorse, Carter?”
“Yes, I’ve nothing else to wait here for, unless you want anything.”
“Do you mind if I come with you?”
“Not a bit. Come by all means, although I’m hanged if I can see any way of getting your aunt out. If I can be of any help-”
“You’ve taken enough risks already,” interrupted Daring. “Is there any hope of bribing the guards, do you think?”
“Not a hope. I’ve tried that already. It’s not that they’re loyal, but that they’re scared stiff of La Dorada. If your aunt got away, they could be for the high jump, and they know it. No I’m afraid it’s force, or nothing.”
“Force it is, then,” replied Daring smoothly. “Come on, Shamrock. I may need some help. Bucks, you stand by for a quick move.”
She dived into the chariot and emerged with a pair of crossbows and a steel mooring-spike. “Take this, Shamrock,” she said, handing the buck one of the crossbows, “but don’t use it unless you have to, and then use the stock for preference. If we kill somebody, my conscience will never let me forget it. All set? Off we go then. Cheerio, Bucks. Stay sharp.”
A brief nuzzle and they had climbed aboard the old cart and were back on their way to Mahorse.
