1976

Harry went into his tent after he ate and took the book from his footlocker where he put if for safekeeping. It was small, about 4"by 8,"and tied well with twine. He set the leather wrapping aside and looked at the wrinkled leather-bound notebook. It was old, and it cracked as he opened it. The scratched and weathered cover opened to pages stained and smudged with sweat and soil. The script was spidery but legible, and small. Stuffed inside a pocket on the front jacket was a thin plastic magnifying lens. He scanned it, reading quickly through the chapters. It told of the Spanish explorers and their search for gold and the lost tomb of some ancient Inca king high up in the Andes Mountains.

It was the tomb they searched for, and as he read on it told of the great wealth it contained, and of the violent end to which these people came to at the hands of the Spaniards who had befriended them. Nothing new, Harry thought. But he read on. Towards the middle of the book, the spidery script stopped, and a bold new hand took over. It looked like Dago's but Harry couldn't be sure. He examined the worn stained pages closely and thought they could be blood, black now with age. He showed what he had found to Nancy and Don and they all felt a new hope in finding the treasures.

Dago had been gone a week when Don, who had gone higher up the hills found a large gold trinket set around a green stone. Excited, he ran downhill to find the others. They followed him back to where he had found the trinket.

"There must be more," Don said.

"Let's make note of where we found this," Harry said, "and I'll enter it later in the journal. But for now," he stopped and looked at the sky and then his watch. "It's getting late. We should mark this and go back to the camp."

Don and Nancy protested and wanted to continue looking. Don explained to them that there could be more stones. That where he found that one was in a wash-out and probably came from higher up. Harry was as excited as they were and conceded. They looked some more. Nancy wanted to mark off a grid, which archaeologists use to make recording easier. But Don followed his theory and followed the natural terrain and was the first to find more of the gold and stones.

It was a horde. A pirate's treasure and they all knew that sleep would be hard to come by.

Harry would later write in the notebook: The rain, what little comes to this high desert, must have washed the stones out of the rocks. It would appear the Spaniards never found them but someone could have. Thieves possibly, intending to come back later. Why not take what they could? Time washed away the covering. They never returned for the stolen goods. When will Dago return?

He entered the exact location, noting the time, temperature, and day. Nancy was happy. She was a passionate person, but her love for the scientific process trumped her natural lust for glittering jewels.

It was late in the day anyway and they returned to camp to examine the find. Don put the tools and things away. Harry and Nancy ran into the tent and spilled the bag onto the table and spread them out. There was gold, and jewels all intricately worked, and figurines made out of precious stones and turquoise.

"Harry, I want to take off my clothes and roll around in it," said Nancy.

Suddenly the tent flap flew open and Don stood there looking terrified. "The mules are gone." He turned and walked back outside The others followed.

The camp was quiet, usually, the mules were not far off tied to a post, and someone always tended the fire. In their excitement, they hadn't even noticed the changes. Don, who couldn't avoid his excitement, had rushed to the other end of the camp where the mules and guides were and called for Harry to follow.

The mules and the gear were all gone. The tents had been packed up and taken with them. The main fire had grown cold. "Fuck me," Harry said.

"They packed everything up," said Don.

"I never trusted them anyway," said Nancy.

Don, unable to process their predicament, bent over the fire and started a new one using the kindling they always kept there and aimlessly threw a log onto it. The embers soon rekindled, and the fire took off again.

Nancy fell into Harry's arms, and he held her tightly. She began to cry. Don turned and looked at them. "It looks like we have been left alone out here," he said.

Harry looked into the fire. He knew who was behind this treachery.