Staunton vindicator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1860-1896, 1896-05-01
THE GOLDEN HAND.

THE GOLDEN HAND.
LEGEND OF HIDDEN TREASURE IN
CENTRAL AMERICA.
Two venturesome Men Hear the Story
From an Old Indian, and With Him as
Two of the Party Return.
you're counting too much on the
word Of an Indian. Old Zapetl is not
ed liar-like all these Spanish speaking
aborigines
"Ah, Jack, you do him injustice
He's a deeper liar than you give him
credit for. It's ridiculous to believe
that the ancients had enough mechanical
knowledge to contrive machine that
could prevent one from getting at the
gold.'
This last speech was from my old
comrade, Tom French. We were in the
interior of Central America when the
foregoing conversation took place. 1t
was the end of many long debate we
had had Oh the subject of search for
treasure.
The legend was briefly that deep in
the center Of crater Of q Wornout vol
cano the ancient Indians of that coun-
try had excavated a vault where they
had piled up countless bars Of virgin
gold. There was above this planted
bowlder, the only indication Of the hid
ing place. The popularity of the crater
was that it was four square, half mile
each way, and from the summit to the
floor, distance Of 500 feet. To reach
the floor there was hidden path and
this was guarded by mysterious gold
en- hand. Tradition, the Indians said,
made it possible to locate the mountain
in only one way. That was by climbing
the peaks in the barren region far above
us to the southeastward until one should
be found from whose lofty crests there
were three other peaks forming straight
line. In the central mountain was the
treasure.
Few burdens could be carried with
us in that high, rare atmosphere, and
we were soon OH our way with old Ia
petl shaking his head, as if in predic-
ton Of disaster. Hardened as we were
by our out of door life, the strain was
terrible. We lost our way repeatedly
and found ourselves confronted by vast
crevices in our pathway up the mountain
side. Wide detours, costing us half
day and sometimes a day OF valuable
time, were perforce made, only to find
ourselves at the top Of a precipice that
barred our progress. We had with in
finite trouble climbed two lofty noun
tains, only to find ourselves at the sum-
NIT out Of range Of other mountain
towns, as demanded by the legend, when
finally refused to 60 farther. 1t was
suicidal. Hall our provisions and water
were gone But Tom pleaded for one
more chance. "Do you see that long
ranger" he cried. "It's in one Of those.
Let's make one more attempt" In mis-
taken pity for him I yielded
AS we reached the summit, behold
there were three mountain peaks in
row. Tom sprang forward and after
another struggle we were at the top of
the central mountain. AS we approach
ed the top it could be seen that there
had been volcanic action in ages past.
Zapetl's eyes were rolling in every di
rection, on he lookout for some super
natural phenomenon. Suddenly bursting
through, dense fringe of bushes we
found ourselves on the very edge of
vast crater. AS with common impulse
we looked to the center, and there was
HOY sc loot -
Tom, cat last p Then he ran his eye
along the verge, scanning it foot by
foot. "The path, )" he almost screamed,
and he stumbled along at pace that,
exhausted as we were, we could scarce
ly maintain. "Take care, Tom," man
aged to calculate, though I was nearly
as wild as he. But Tom apparently
heard nothing. He had eyes and ears
only for the one goal.
The path along the side Of the preci-
pice, we could see, led upward from the
wide floor of the arena far below us,
but the top was concealed from our in
tent gaze by dense mass of shrubbery.
Around the sides Of the crater we half
stumbled, half ran. When we reached
the spot where We thought it possible
to strike upon the opening, we made
dashes here and there into the greenery.
After many disappointments cry from
Tom told me the path had been found.
Zapetl by this time was in state of
collapse through fear and fatigue. Again
I warned Tom to exercise caution, but
he plunged ahead, and I followed as
slowly as I could. The path downward
was not more than foot in width. and
it required all my strength and dexteri-
ty to keep my footing. Suddenly On
rounding a sharp angle in the face of
the precipice I was confronted by fat
rock five minutes climb further down.
1t seemed to be set in the face of the
crater and to jut out, cutting off further
progress in that direction. The rock
was Of peculiar reddish yellow color,
and, on looking more intently, it SEEM
ed to take upon itself the shape of
monstrous hand. 1t flashed over me all
at once-this was the golden hand Of
the Indians legend. ] called to Tom,
but he was far below me. 'Tom, the
rockP' I cried hoarsely, and my own
voice sounded strangely in my ears
But Tom had already reached it. Sud
denly scream of anguish shall never
forget pose in that awful stiffness, and
in another instant I saw that ponderons
hand of golden stone sink lower, still
lower. Another scream wilder than per
fore and Tom S form could be seen striy-
Ing vainly to clutch with his hands the
smooth surface as it sank downward
with increasing rapidly. ] shut my
eyes and listened. The sight was toe
eYfnl to bear. When opened them, the
rock that had turned on pivot with
poor Tom s weight was upright and was
moving back to its original place. Of
that frightfnl fall into the crater new
er dared to think. Old zapetl and had
weary days Of toll i'll our return to the
plantation, AID my life was nearly for
fsited by fever in which 7 could hear
Toms last despairing shrek and see
him sliding to his awful death. Brook