A second week was running out but there was still no sign of the devil.
Baltasar had struck up acquaintance with some Indians from a farming village nearby. He would sell them the daily catch at half-price and then stay behind for a chat, cleverly bringing up the subject of the sea-devil. Soon the old Indian knew that they had been right in choosing the spot. Indeed, many villagers had heard the horn and seen the footprints on the beach. They said that the heels looked quite human but the toes were much too long. Sometimes they would find an imprint of the devils back on the beach where he had lain.
The devil was not known to have done anybody any harm, so the villagers had long ceased to mind the traces he left behind. Besides, none of them had actually seen him.
For two weeks the Jellyfish had kept near the bay, going on with the make-believe fishing. For two weeks Zurita, Baltasar and the hired Indians had scanned the bay, but still no sea-devil would show up. Zurita fretted and raged. He was as stingy as he was impatient. Every day cost money and that devil had kept them cooling their heels there many days now. Pedro was assailed by doubts. Suppose the creature was really a devil? Then no nets would catch him. Neither did superstitious Zurita particularly like the idea of meddling with one. Of course he could call a priest on board to bless the undertaking, but that would involve additional expense. And then, again, the creature might be some first-rate swimmer disguised as a devit to put fear into people for the sheer fun of it. There was the dolphin, of course. But that could have been tamed and trained like any other animal. Wouldnt it be better to drop the whole thing, he wondered.
Zurita promised a reward to the first man to spot the devil and, tormented with doubts, decided to wait a few days longer.
To his immense joy the third week brought signs of the devils renewed activity.
One evening Baltasar tied up his boat, laden with that days catch to be sold in the morning, and went to a nearby farm to visit an Indian friend. On his return he found the boat empty. Baltasar was convinced that it was the devils handiwork though he couldnt stop marvelling at the amount of fish the devil had put away.
Later that evening the Indian on duty reported having heard the sound of a horn coming from the south. Two days later, early in the morning, the youngest Araucanian finally spotted the devil. He came in from sea in the dolphins company, not riding it this time but swimming alongside, grasping with one hand a broad leather collar round the dolphins neck. In the bay the devil took the collar off the dolphin, patted it on the back, swam to the foot of a sheer cliff that jutted high on the shore and was seen no more.
On hearing the Indians report Zurita promised not to forget about the reward and said: The devil isnt likely to stir from his den today. That gives us a chance to have a look at the sea-bed. Now, then, whos willing?
But that was a risk nobody was eager to take.
Then Baltasar stepped forward.
Im willing, was all he said. Baltasar wasnt one to go back on his word.
Leaving a watchman on board they went ashore and to the steep cliff.
Baltasar wound the end of diving cord round his middle, took a knife, seized a stone between his knees and went down.
The Araucanians waited in tense silence for his appearance, peering into the water, murky blue where the cliff cast a deep shadow. A slow minute went by. At last there was a tug at the cord. When Baltasar had been helped ashore it was some time before he could say, panting:
Theres a narrow passage down there-leads into a cave-as dark as a sharks belly. And no other place for the devil to be gone to-just a sheer wall of rock all round.
Splendid! exclaimed Zurita. The darker, the better. We only have to cast the net and wait for the blighter to walk in.
Dusk was falling on the bay when the Indians lowered the wire net into the water across the mouth of the cave and secured the sturdy end ropes to rocks on shore. Then Baltasar tied a number of small bells to the ropes for early warning.
That done, Zurita, Baltasar and the five Araucanians settled down on the sand to await developments, Nobody had been left on board the schooner this time. All hands were needed.
The night darkened swiftly. Presently the moon appeared and silvered the surface of the ocean. The hush of night enveloped the beach. The little party sat on in tense silence. Any minute now they might see that strange creature that had been striking terror into the fishermen and pearl-divers.
The night dragged on. People began drowsing.
All of a sudden the bells rang. The men sprang up, ran for the end ropes and heaved. The net felt heavy. The ropes tautened. Something seemed to be struggling in the net.
At last the net came up and the pale moonlight revealed in it the body of a half-man, half-beast writhing and struggling to get free. The enormous eyes and silvery scales glistened, moonlit. The devil made desperate attempts to free his right hand, caught in the wire meshes. Finally he succeeded, unsheathed the knife that hung on a narrow leather belt at his side and started hacking at the net.
No, you dont, not a wire net, Baltasar muttered under his breath.
But to his surprise the devils knife was whetted to the task. As the divers heaved at the net for all they were worth to get it on shore the devil was deftly widening the gash he had already made.
Heave-ho, my hearties, Baltasar shouted urgently.
But at the very moment when their quarry seemed as good as in their hands the devil dropped through the gash into the water, sending up a cascade of sparkling spray, and was gone.
The men stopped heaving in desperation.
Thats some knife-cutting wire as youd cut a loaf of fresh bread, Baltasar said admiringly. The underwater blacksmiths must be a darned sight bettern ours.
Staring into the water Zurita had the air of a man who had lost all his fortune at one stroke.
Then he raised his head, tugged at his bristly moustache and stamped his foot.
But no, damn you, this isnt the end! he exclaimed. I wont give up if I have to starve you in your bleeding cave. Ill spare no money, Ill hire divers, Ill have nets and traps put everywhere but Ill get you!
Whatever Zurita was lacking in, it was certainly not purpose and courage. This he had got with the hot blood of Spanish conquistadors that ran in his veins. And then he thought the thing was worth a fight, all the more so considering the devil was not half as formidable as he had feared.
A creature that could be made to tap the riches of the world for him would repay itself many times over. Zurita was going to have it, be it even guarded by Neptune himself.
Dr. Salvator
Nor did Zurita go back on his word. He had had the mouth of the cave and the waters nearby crossed and recrossed with barbed wire and sturdy nets with ingenious traps guarding the few free passages left. But there was only fish to reward him for his pains. The sea-devil had not shown up once. In fact he seemed to have disappeared altogether. His dolphin friend put in a daily appearance in the bay, snorting and gambol-ling in the waters, apparently eager for an outing. But all in vain. Presently the dolphin would give a final snort and head for the open sea.
Then the weather changed for the worse. The easterner lashed up a big swell; sand whipped from the sea-bed made the water so opaque that nothing could be seen beneath the foamy crests.
Zurita could spend hours on the shore, watching one huge white-headed breaker after another pound the beach. Broken, they hissed their way through the sand, rolling over pebbles and oyster shells, onto his very feet.
This cant go on, Zurita said to himself one day. Something must be done about it. The creatures got his den at the bottom of the sea and he wont stir from it. Very well. So he who wants to catch him must pay him a visit. Plain as the nose on your face. And turning to Baltasar who was making another trap for the devil he said:
Go straightway to Buenos Aires and get two diving outfits with oxygen sets. Ordinary ones wont do. The devils sure to cut the breathing tubes. Besides we might have to make quite a trip underwater. And mind you dont forget electric torches as well.
Thinking of giving the devil a look-up? asked Baltasar.
In your company, old cock. Yes.
Baltasar nodded and set off on his errand.
When he returned he showed Zurita besides two diving suits and torches two long elaborately-curved bronze knives.
They dont make their kind nowadays, he said. Thesere ancient knives my forefathers used to slit open the bellies of your forefathers with if you dont mind my saying so.
Zurita didnt care for the history part of it but he liked the knives.
Early at dawn the next day, despite a choppy sea, Zurita and Baltasar got into their diving suits and went down. It cost them considerable effort to find a way through their own nets to the mouth of the cave. Complete darkness met them. They unsheathed their knives and switched on their torches. Small fish darted away, scared by the sudden glare, then came back, swarming, mosquito-like, in the two bluish beams.
Zurita shooed them away: their silvery scales were fairly blinding him. The divers found themselves in a biggish cave, about twelve feet high and twenty feet wide. It was empty, except for the fish apparently sheltering there from the storm or bigger fish.
Treading cautiously they went deeper into the cave. It gradually narrowed. Suddenly Zurita stopped dead. The beam of his torch had picked out from the darkness a stout iron grille blocking their way.
Zurita could not believe his own eyes. He gripped at the iron bars in an attempt to pull the grille open. It didnt give. After a closer look Zurita realized that it was securely embedded in the hewn-stone walls of the cave and had a built-in lock.
They were faced with still another riddle.
The sea-devil had apparently even greater intelligence than they had ever credited him with. He knew how to forge an iron grille to bar the way to his underwater den. But that was utterly impossible! He couldnt have forged it actually under the water, could he! That meant he didnt live underwater at all or at least that he went ashore for long stretches of time.
Zurita felt his blood throb in his temples as though he had used up his store of oxygen in those few minutes under water.
He motioned to Baltasar and they went out of the cave, and came up.
The Araucanians who had been on tenterhooks waiting for them were very glad to see them back.
What do you make of it, Baltasar? said Zurita after he had taken off his helmet and recovered his breath.
The Araucanian shrugged his shoulders.
Well be ages waiting for him to come out, unless, of course, we dynamite the grille. We cant starve him out, all he needs is fish and theres plenty of that.
Do you think, Baltasar, there might be another way out of the cave inland I mean?
Baltasar hadnt thought of that.
Its an idea though. Why didnt we have a look round first, said Zurita.
So he started on a new search.
On shore Zurita came across a high solid white-stone wall and followed it round. It completely encircled a piece of land, no less than twenty-five acres. There was only one gate, made of solid steel plates. In one corner of it there was a small steel door with a spy-hole shut from inside.
A regular fortress, thought Zurita. Very fishy. The farmers round here dont normally build high walls. And not a chink anywhere to have a peep through.
There was not a sign of another habitation in the immediate neighbourhood, just bald grey rocks, with an occasional patch of thorny bush and cactus, all the way down to the bay.
Zuritas curiosity was roused. For two days he haunted the rocks round the wall, keeping a specially sharp eye on the steel gate. But nobody went in or out, nor did a single sound come from within.
One evening, on board the Jellyfish, Zurita sought out Baltasar.
Any idea who lives in the fortress above the bay? he asked.
Salvator-so the Indian farm-labourers tell me.
And whos he?
God.
The Spaniards bushy black eyebrows invaded his forehead.
Having your joke, eh?
A faint smile touched the Indians lips.
Im telling you what Ive been told. Many Indians call Salvator a God and their saviour.
What does he save them from?
Death. Hes all-powerful, they say. He can work miracles. He holds life and death in the hollow of his hand, they say. He makes new, sound legs for the lame, keen eyes for the blind, he can even breathe life into the dead.
Carramba! muttered Zurita, as he flicked up smartly his bushy moustache. Theres a sea-devil down the bay, and a god up it. I wonder if theyre partners.
If you take my advice well clear out of here, and mighty quick, before our brains curdle with all these miracles.
Have you seen anyone who was treated by Salvator?
I have. I was shown a man who had been carried to Salvator with a broken leg. He was running about like a mustang. Then I saw an Indian whom Salvator had brought back to life. The whole village say that he was stone-dead with a split skull. Salvator put him on his feet again. He came back, full of life and laughter. Got married to a nice girl too. And then all those children-
So Salvator does receive patients?
Indians. They flock to him from everywhere-from as far away as Tierra del Fuego and the Amazon.
Not satisfied with this information Zurita went up to Buenos Aires.
There too he learned that Salvator treated only Indians with whom he enjoyed the fame of a miracle-worker. Medical men told Zurita that Salvator was an exceptionally gifted surgeon, indeed a man of genius, but very eccentric, as is often the case with men of his calibre. His name was well known in medical circles on both sides of the Atlantic. In America he was famed for his bold imaginative surgery. When surgeons gave up a case as hopeless Salvator was asked to step in. He never refused. During the Great War he was on the French front where he operated almost exclusively on the brain. Thousands of men owed him their lives. After the Armistice he went back home. His practice and real estate operations landed in his lap quite a fortune. He threw up his practice, bought some land near Buenos Aires, had a high wall built round it (another of his eccentricities), and settled down there. He was known to have taken up research. Now he only treated Indians, who called him God descended on earth.
Finally Zurita found out that before the War right where his present vast holding lay Salvator had had a house with an orchard also walled in on all sides. When Salvator had been away in France the house had been closely guarded by a Black and a pack of ferocious bloodhounds.
Of late Salvator had lived a still more cloistered life. He wouldnt receive even his old university colleagues.
Having gleaned all this information, Zurita decided to take illness so as to get inside the grounds.