"It's
morning, sleepyhead, time to get up. Remember,
today we have
to [fill in the blank]."
Approx 2,160 words
THE
FORTUNE SEEKERS
©2003
by W. E. Lopez
"It's
morning, sleepyhead, time to get up. Remember, today we have to find out if
you’re really as smart as you claim.”
Ralph Jamison
rolled over in his sleeping bag while mumbling, “G’way, Mike. Hizzonner, the god of war, has been buried at
least six centuries. Another twenty
minutes won’t matter much to him, or us.”
Although it
was shortly after dawn, deep in the jungle of
Fifteen years
earlier, Mike had been a company commander of mechanized infantry in the Gulf
War against Saddam Hussein. Mike was
accustomed to attacking any task before him early in the day, hoping to
complete it quickly but allowing more time to finish before nightfall. His partner, Ralph, pursued a more leisurely
pace. Ralph took eight years to earn his
doctorate in archeology. He specialized
in meso-Americans, early Indians of the Pre-Columbian era.
Ralph and Mike
had met unexpectedly on a rainy Super-Bowl Sunday in
Ralph casually
mentioned he had recently returned from
“No shit,”
Mike said. “What’d you learn?”
Ralph was
always happy to discuss his chosen vocation.
“Well, the Inca were a tremendously warlike culture which sprang into
existence in
“The Quirovaro
were the one tribe the Inca could not conquer, though they tried on several
occasions. The Inca outnumbered the
Quirovaro more than a hundred to one, but the Quirovaro were fierce warriors
and claimed they were protected and aided in battle by their deidad terrorifica, or God of Terror as
written down by the Spaniards.
“The Incas had
amassed incredible tribute from other tribes they had conquered, and eventually
paid the Quirovaro not to make war on them any more. The Inca Emperor, Lloque Yupanqui,
made them a gift of a likeness of their god, an incredible statue as large as a
man, made of gold, and covered with rubies, emeralds, and sapphires.”
Mike could only grunt. “That must have weighed a ton, if you can
believe your Spanish historian. A lot of
those old tales tend to be exaggerated like our stories of Daniel Boone, Wild
Bill Hickock, and others.”
“I know, I know,” Ralph
said, “and no western scholar I’ve heard of could give me any information about
the Quirovaro, so I thought about linking them with the Mayan Indians.”
“The Mayas?”
“Another historical
curiosity,” Ralph said. “The Mayan
civilization seems to have sprung fully formed between 200-900 AD. There are some scholarly writings which attribute
the founders of the Mayan culture to have emigrated from Khurra, near
“But how do you put it all
together? What do the Quirovaro and the
gold statue have to do with the Mayans and Syrians?” Mike was a man of action. He had never been one to enjoy the
questioning facets of academia.
“The Spaniards tried to
eliminate the culture and traditions of the Maya, believing they were followers
of Satan, which makes archeological study all the more difficult. The Maya were generally traders and
diplomats, according to what little is known of them. Just as modern day Democrats drastically reduce
our military commitments, in order to have more tax dollars to spend on social programs,
I was seeking evidence the Mayans may have driven out the more warlike Indians,
who were forced to settle further south in
“And you did?” Ralph
pressed.
“Not conclusively, although
one might think Quirovaro could be a linguistic adaptation of Khurri.”
“That’s not a tall
stretch,” Ralph agreed, “but tell me more about this golden statue.” Already an idea was forming in his mind.
As the beer flowed, the two
men talked, and by the time the Super-Bowl was over and the rain had
disappeared, Ralph proposed mortgaging his house to finance an expedition by
the two men to
* *
*
Mike and Ralph
followed the Rio Madre de Dios in a
flat bottomed skiff with two outboard motors for three weeks. Their travel frequently broken as Ralph
stopped to question natives along the shore or to await an air-drop of supplies
and fuel by a small aircraft hired out of
When they
reached the 600 foot high falls yesterday, Ralph felt certain the information
he had learned from the natives would prove this to be the hiding place of the
statue. The local Indians feared the
place, saying it was forbidden or taboo, but Ralph was felt they were even
closer to their goal when they found the cavern behind the falls. The two men made camp for the night, a
respectful distance away from the water so they would not be plagued by hordes
of mosquitoes.
After coffee
and a sparse breakfast of cheese and crackers (both from tins), Ralph rolled
his tropical sleeping bag and stowed it beneath their canvas tarp, then the two
men made their way to the cave.
Still a
hundred yards from the cave, Ralph and Mike were drenched by the spray and mist
at the base of the falls. Ralph had a
dreadful fear of piranha and crocodiles, even though Mike firmly told him
piranha did not school in moving water and there would be no crocodiles or it’s
lesser known cousin, the cayman, this far upriver.
Precariously,
they picked their way over moss covered rocks until they could penetrate the
torrential downpour from above. Falling
from a height of 600 feet, the water hit their head and shoulders with
tremendous force and the two men were glad when they reached the shelter of the
cave behind the falls. Inside, they
paused briefly, Ralph to pull a digital camera from his knap sack while Mike
dug out two flashlights with powerful Halogen bulbs.
“What’s that
for?” Mike asked as Ralph took a photograph of the brightly lit world on the
other side of the falls.
“Nothing
special, Mike. I just thought it would
make a pretty picture.”
With a snort,
Mike said, “Take this flashlight and let’s see if we’re gonna get a pretty picture
of the golden statue.”
The two men
cautiously followed the wide cave, Ralph fearing a jaguar or huge snake would
suddenly appear to devour the two amateur explorers. After fifty yards, the cave began to narrow
to less than ten yards. In another fifty
yards the cave was hardly wide enough for the two men, shoulder to
shoulder. Suddenly Ralph stopped and
said, “It looks like this is the end of the line, Mike. There’s a rock fall blocking the way now.”
Mike pointed
his light in the direction of the obstruction.
“That’s not a rock fall, Ralph.
Rocks fall down and spread out in a natural fan shape. Those rocks were set in place. Someone has deliberately built a wall
here. This might just be the hiding
place of the Deidad Terrorifico.”
“You really
think so, Mike? How can we be sure?”
“There’s only
one way, Ralph, let’s start tearing down that wall.”
In twenty
minutes they had removed a dozen rocks and created an opening into the cavern
beyond. The work was hard, each rock
weighed down by the rocks above and they had to be careful not to have the
whole thing collapse upon them. When
they finally had an opening wide enough for a man’s head and shoulders, Mike
squatted down, pointed his flashlight in front of him and wriggled through.
He breathed a
sigh of relief to find himself unencumbered by the powerful coils of a boa or
anaconda, and was soon able to stand up.
“It’s okay, Ralph, come on!”
Mike took a
few cautious steps while shining the light in every direction, letting his eyes
take everything into view.
“Wow! This is incredible!” Ralph said as he stood
up. “Now I know how Carter must have
felt when he entered the Tomb of King Tut.
How many centuries has this remained hidden from exploring eyes, Mike?”
“Quite a few I
would judge from the bones on the floor, Ralph.” Mike pointed his light at a hundred or more
skeletons scattered across the floor of the cavern. All had been stripped of flesh and muscle,
but that would not have taken long in the jungle. A small army of rats or a large army of ants
could strip a man’s bones in a day or two at most.
“Is that an
altar over there?” Ralph asked.
“It could be,”
Mike said, pointing his light toward a flat stone flanked by two larger stones
at each end. All around the cavern they
could see niches set in stone where torches could be affixed. In several, wooden shafts remained, needing only
to have pitch-soaked moss wrapped around them and set ablaze.
“Do you think
the Indians practiced human sacrifice here, Mike?”
“Why ask
me? You’re supposed to be the
expert. If they were sacrifices, would
they leave the bodies in their holy place?
I read somewhere the Aztecs would offer the victim’s heart to their
gods, but the bodies were dumped into a pit.
Thousands of bodies!” he said with a scowl.
Ralph pushed
closer to the altar. “Look, Mike!” He brushed away a thick curtain of cobwebs to
reveal the golden statuette they had been searching for.
“I think the
Terror God has shrunk some,” Mike said.
“Who
cares? What if it’s only two feet tall;
look at those stones! It must still be
worth enough for a hundred men!”
The golden
statue was a warrior with a silver sword and a silver mask covering his
face. The warrior’s chest was polished
gold above a skirt of rubies and emeralds.
A crown of rubies and sapphires sat upon his head while jeweled sandals
covered his feet. In his left hand he
held a golden shield, at least half his own height, and it too was covered with
sapphires except where a golden sun blazed upon the shield.
Ralph pointed
his camera and began snapping pictures as fast as the digital flash could
recharge. “What do you think its worth,
Ralph?”
“It’s beyond
worth, Mike. This statue proves the
story of the Quirovaro and may yet provide proof to the origins of the tribe,
as well as the Mayans them self.” Mike
walked around the stone altar and wrapped his arms around the golden statue. Grunting and straining he was able to lift it
waist high. “I can carry it, Ralph. We can get it back to the boat and be away
from here by tomorrow. All we have to do
is hide it from the Brazilian government and smuggle it out of the
country. We’ll be rich, buddy! Rich as Bill Gates I suppose!”
A scraping
sound behind Ralph made him turn. He was
at first awed by the figure of a golden warrior, as tall as two men and covered
with jewels just like the smaller statue.
He whipped up his camera and began snapping more pictures. Ralph was overjoyed by the new
discovery. The figure was huge! It must have been built within the cave
because it would have taken a hundred men to carry it here.
The image was
both beautiful and terrible. The beauty
of the precious stones and the wealth they promised was beyond
imagination. At the same time, the
masked face was horrible and bespoke of a hundred or a thousand victims
sacrificed to the Deidad
Terrorifico.
The huge
figure raised its frightening sword to strike at them. It took a thudding step forward and then
another. There was a whooshing sound as
the sword swept the air. The sword rose
again as the God of Terror came yet closer.
It was only then Ralph realized this was the real Deidad Terrorfico who protected the tiny statue.
And he knew
now what had caused the deaths of the hundreds of skeletons littering the temple.