Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

When the breeze ceased the haze returned to cover the scene. After a couple of minutes, which seemed endless, the noises produced by the marching men became extinct, and were gradually succeeded by the usual sounds of the forest. Francisco appeared again and still in a low voice said.

“The imminent danger has passed, but anyway let's wait until the fog has risen to continue our journey. Get your backpacks ready.”

That said, he continued to advance crouch to pass the word to the remaining companions. Teresa quietly said to Marcelo:

“Listen, I think I know who they were.”

“Going to say to you recognized a few men in the fog, in the middle of the jungle and thousands of miles from where you live?

“Marcelo, I have the impression that those were members of the same group that kidnapped me in Yucatan. Uniforms and even some of the faces were familiar to me.”

“As far as I could see, the uniforms were not all equal, i.e. were not precisely uniform.”

“Same as the ones in Yucatan. In particular one of them had a jacket with camouflage, dark trousers and a red beret.”

“Teresa, are you sure you really spotted them, or was it part of any of your... visions?”

“No! I have seen them clearly!”

The young man was not very convinced, and argued that the girl had made the association between two equally alarming facts of her life, i.e. what were similar were the circumstances and not the men. Anyway it not could be excluded completely the possibility that Teresa was right; for this reason and since they could not elucidate the problem in that moment, they resolved to keep this dilemma for themselves, in order not to create more confusion in the group, and do not generate doubts about the character of the woman.

Once the fog had dissipated completely they were ready to go on. Some members asked Francisco which was the reason for distrust of hikers in the forest.

“Nothing good can come of people that travel in this part of the jungle, and those of us who could see them, state that they were armed. This jungle is teeming with batches of gold seekers, potentially hostile Indians, drug traffickers and even scattered elements of the Shining Path of yesteryear. We had nothing to gain and everything to lose if we are disclosed.

“And what happens if we find them again?”asked Miguel, the Mexican archaeologist.

“We will send scouts to the front” said Francisco “two local men will be preceding us one hundred steps away. If there is doubt one of them will approach the rest to warn us. As a precaution we will advance in silence and we will establish our camps after inspecting the surroundings.”

In this way, the excursion was transformed into something very similar to a military maneuver, which added further complications and tension. A festive air that had recovered after the incident in the canoe again resulted in a sorry and fearful climate.

That afternoon they penetrated into an especially dense area of the jungle, with not very high but grisled trees, twisted and joined by vines and lianas. The area was very wet, and the vegetation dripped condensed water falling everywhere, being retained by plants of the family of the Bromeliaceous that collected it inside. The amount of insects was unbearable, despite repellents that visitors sprayed on themselves

“This is not the native forest” said Francisco "you can even see fruit trees mixed with others.”

“It looks like an abandoned orchard, swallowed again by the forest” Jimenez added that this occurs very frequently in Central America.

In fact, everything indicated they were in a secondary forest, i.e. in an area once occupied and cultivated by humans and that was eventually abandoned by them, which then succumbs to progressively the native vegetation, better adapted to the environment and with the complicity of the fauna, which preferably feeds on the fruits of such vegetation, and therefore contributes to its dissemination of its seeds. The first species covering the abandoned properties are the so-called pioneers, of rapid deployment, which leave then space to other species that colonize in final form, covering the area with trees growing taller and more sparsely distributed.

When they approached a bend where a brook ran over stones and provided crystal clear water, Francisco gave the order to stop.

“Juan and Nemesio will beat the surroundings” he ordered two of the Peruvian pawns “if there are no hazards we will prepare lunch and rest until the Sun runs down.”

They then established a temporary stop, sitting on fallen logs and discharging their heavy backpacks. Returning scouts saying that the site was safe, encouraged them to light bonfires and prepare a hot meal.

Marcelo sat in an emerging rock covered with moss, took his plate and began to eat with his fingers. Teresa, Jimenez and Miguel were with him. The conversation was low by the fatigue that invaded them. At a time when Marcelo wanted to place his buttocks in a more comfortable position, but he slid along by the smooth surface of the rock and fell to the ground before the laughter of his companions.

“Cursed be!” cried “I’ve scraped all my back.”

He turned back facing to the guilty stone, and for a moment was silent.

“This is strange” whispered he “these look like made artificially marks.”

Indeed, as his fall dragged moss that covered it, the rock surface laid bare. Incisions that looked very geometrical to be natural appeared in parts of the stone that had been put in evidence.

Visibly shocked, the rest of the members of the group rushed on the rock. Jimenez set his body to stop the others in order to avoid that the inscriptions could be altered by human contact, forgetting that it had been exposed to the weather for an indeterminate but probably long time.

“Halt!” he said with emotion in his voice. “until we examine it properly and determine its archaeological value we are going to treat it as a monument.”

Miguel, undoubtedly the most experienced Inca remains expert, set on his glasses and respectfully approached the stone, suddenly converted into a cult object. Carefully he cleaned vegetable waste with a spatula and a soft brush. Every now and then he ceased in his cleaning action, took photos and inspected the areas that were left exposed. At the request of Jimenez, the rest of the group departed in order to not distract Miguel from his work. As it became evident that they would remain on the site for a while, Francisco decided to make a camp at the site, putting tents in a forest clearing about one hundred feet from the stone.

“Well, this is unusual!” exclaimed Jimenez controlling his enthusiasm that despite all flowed through his pores “ instead of having to search for weeks before detecting a light trail, the second day on the road we find an object of interest, even before reaching the area. And the extraordinary thing is that the person who makes the finding is not an archaeologist, and does so by accident.”

“And I did it not with my mind but with the buttocks. It must be the luck of the beginner” Marcelo argued.

“Do not to anticipate conclusions, let´s wait to what Miguel has to say” begged Jimenez, who preferred to move cautiously despite that at first glance it seemed that they were facing a potential success. After all, although the Inca culture was not his specialty, he had more than twenty years in archaeological expeditions and analysis of findings.

Francisco and his men prepared lunch, and everyone rushed to eat, although all were expecting news from Miguel. When they were sipping coffee he returned with a happy face.

“Well, I have some preliminary conclusions” he said, dosing his words, aware that everyone was awaiting them “ these are certainly human inscriptions and not natural markings, although I think that they were made with precarious instruments, given the differences in depth and some irregularity in the strokes. This rusticity makes me think that it was a landmark, as a milestone on a road rather than part of a town” he took breath, what perhaps not deliberately increased the suspense “anyway there is no doubt that it was not made by primitive Amazonian tribes, and the symbols I could expose so far point to the Inca pre-classic period which precisely corresponds to our research.”

Jimenez jumped as he heard this. It was nothing less than the first hint pointing in the direction that the whole theory developed by McPherson and his team, of which Jimenez was an important exponent, was correct, and that the Paititi could actually be found in the depths of the Amazonian jungle. Trying to look controlled he asked.

“Any interpretation of the signs?”

“Not yet, I want to expose all engravings to give me an idea of the context.” replied cautiously Miguel.

“Well, I think what we already know justifies that we communicate the finding to Professor McPherson” Jimenez was very formalistic, and although in his personal relations he talked colloquially to McPherson, when he was talking with others he referred to him always with the corresponding titles.

He then turned to the radio, where he held a conversation with his boss. It lasted about a quarter of an hour, after which Jimenez said in response:

“Yes, we'll keep you informed as soon as we have more data. It is still premature to do anything else.”

Teresa, who was unwillingly listening the conversation said to Marcelo.

“I know Magnus and Jimenez. Predictably they are going to remain silent not to create false expectations that can make them loose credibility in the future if they are not materialized, but also to give them the opportunity to make a sensational launch if it proves to be an important finding.”

This phrase brought to Marcelo unpleasant memories of the relationship that Teresa had with McPherson, which allowed her to correctly interpret his reactions and motivations. He expelled those thoughts from his head as useless.

“As says my mother, “lo pasado pisado”.”