The Air Ship Boys Part 31

That settled it. The food packs were made up of the following supplies: Flour, 12 lbs; corn meal, 5 lbs; beans, 5 lbs; bacon, 7 1/2 lbs; rice, 5 lbs; oatmeal, 2 lbs; baking powder, 1/2 lb; coffee, I lb; tea, 1/2 lb; sugar, 5 lbs; lard, 2 1/2 lbs; salt, 1/2 lb; pepper, 1/8 lb. Each provision pack weighed twenty-one pounds. In addition there was an aluminum frying pan, a coffee pot and two aluminum plates. A water canteen, a blanket, a revolver and belt of ammunition and a knife apiece completed the equipment. Alan carried in addition the "snake bite" case, the compa.s.s and small hatchet, and Ned the money belt containing over five hundred dollars in gold.

The sealed gla.s.s tubes of matches were divided between the two boys and then, as it was noon, the s.e.xtant that Ned had been so careful to bring with them was used for the first and last time. The observation made and noted, and the record of it divided as planned, Ned and Alan were ready to begin their attempt to make their way out of the rock-bound wilderness. With provisions, water, blanket and arms each lad was carrying about thirty-five pounds.

"Would you still like a few pounds of Aztec treasure?" laughed Ned as they stood with packs adjusted.

"I should say not," retorted Alan; "I'm satisfied."

The method of lowering themselves from the hole in the face of the cliff to the ground, one hundred feet beneath, had been worked out in detail and the apparatus made in the evenings by the light of their camp fire. And early that morning Alan had carried the long rope ladder down the chasm and to the mouth of the tunnel. Now, in addition to their packs, the two boys carried between them a section of one of the pine trees, about six feet long.

As they stood, ready to leave, Ned raised his cap.

"Good bye, old Cibola," he said with moisture in his eyes, "until we meet again, if ever."

"If ever?" added Alan quickly with as much gaiety as he could summon. "You don't think we'll ever let anyone else lift that little pile?" and he pointed to the well filled entrance room of the temple.

"No," answered Ned, soberly, "if we have as good luck on the land as we had in the air."

Ned and Alan meant to reach the earth by means of a rope ladder.

This they had constructed from the stout Italian hemp suspension cords of the Cibola. These ropes, each thirty feet in length, were knotted and then doubled to insure strength. For the last twenty-five feet at the bottom the landing ladder of the balloon was used. The rungs, two feet apart, were of pine from a felled tree, and were thirty-eight in number.

For anchorage, the six-foot length of tree was dragged to the mouth of the tunnel and, five feet from the opening, wedged between the floor and roof of the tunnel, slightly inclined forward. The strain on the bottom would thus only fix the supporting section more firmly in place. From the bottom of the pine shaft a loop of four of the suspension cords reached just out of the tunnel opening. To this loop the top rang of the ladder was tied, with a separate hundred-foot length of cord. After the ladder had been made firm with a running slip knot the hundred-foot length of cord was dropped to the ground.

This arrangement had been provided in order that the rope ladder might be removed after the descent. By a jerk of the cord the slip knot would be loosened and the ladder, released, would fall of its own weight. Another length of rope had been prepared, this one somewhat over a hundred feet long and also doubled for strength.

This was for the lowering of the packs and other articles by one of the boys after the other had descended. To insure its free running and to prevent its wearing through on the edge of the cliff, a six inch section of the pine tree had been prepared, flattened on one side and having a wide smooth groove in the top. This, attached to a short length of rope, which was made fast with the ladder loop to the upright shaft in the tunnel, was fixed on the verge of the opening.

Finally everything had been arranged and made fast. Each of the two boys insisted that he should go down first. To solve the dispute, they cast lots and the risk of testing the rope fell to Ned.

Slipping off his shoes and socks, which he hung about his neck, he sprang to the ladder. Alan hung over the edge and watched him with apprehension, but Ned, feeling his way carefully, was soon on the ground.

His shout was the signal to begin the work of lowering the packs.

And down they came, one after another; provisions, revolvers, blankets, water bottles, and even the money belt, for Ned had made himself as light as possible for his descent.

At last it was Alan's turn. The last load had descended, the lowering line had been released, drawn up and stowed away. The slip knot was examined anew and then Alan followed Ned down the slender, fragile swaying rope ladder. When he had reached the ground by Ned's side and the strain was over, the boys shook hands jubilantly.

"--And now," shouted Ned with a laugh, "last chance! If you want to go back for a new load say so before it is too late."

Alan, exhausted with the climb, shook his head.

"Then stand from under," cried Ned.

As he jerked the slip knot cord the boys sprang aside and the long ladder, wriggling, crashed at their feet.

The only means of reaching the towering elevation had been removed and the only visible sign of their brief occupancy of the secret mesa had been destroyed.

CHAPTER x.x.xI

AN ADVENTURE WITH THE NAVAJOS

Three days later, Ned Napier and Alan Hope, worn and almost exhausted with the steady climb and descent of countless rocky heights, made their camp for the night at the foot of a rugged slope. Their shoes were torn so that a protection of rags was necessary. The hot and pitiless sun had seemingly dried up their boyish spirits. Silent with fatigue, having plodded steadily forward since sunrise, they threw themselves on the sand.

The young adventurers were headed straight for the east. And still the last range of mountains was beyond them. Led by the compa.s.s, they held to their course, sometimes pa.s.sing miles out of their path to avoid some inaccessible mesa, but more often scaling ragged and tiresome heights.

Eating had now become a matter of form and necessity. There was no longer the keen joy in making camp. During the three days the boys had seen no living object except birds, rabbits, many deer and two bears, all of which they had left unmolested in their eagerness to press forward. But at noon on this day Alan, having occasion to glance backwards, was positive that he saw a human head. Whether white man or Indian he could not determine. The incident gave the lads no little, concern, but as no further sign of a human being was seen that day they finally forgot the matter.

That night, after making tea and taking a little more pains than usual with their supper in an effort to revive their spirits as well as their tired bodies, Ned and Alan spread their blankets at the edge of a pine grove. Almost before it was dark they were both sound asleep.

Some hours later Alan awoke with the instant consciousness of an unusual sound. Motionless and straining his ears, he heard deep breathing just behind him. A new moon was just sinking below the b.u.t.tes on the far side of the little valley in which they had stopped for rest, but under the pines the shadows were deep. He knew that danger was near and he did not move. In another moment he felt a soft hand on his waist, as swift and as silent as a snake, and he knew that the hand was extracting his revolver.

Then, from his half-opened eyes, he saw a figure crouching over his chum just opposite. Some one no doubt was also removing Ned's weapon. Then there was the pressure of stealthy footsteps on the pine needles and Alan moved his head until he could see two indistinct forms moving from the shadows of the timber across the open s.p.a.ce to the dying embers of their little fire. There he could easily discern five or six figures. He was about to put his hand on Ned's face to awaken him gently when he saw the entire group coming directly toward their sleeping place. Their movements now revealed plainly that they were Indians.

With cold beads of perspiration covering his body Alan again pretended sleep. It was now apparent that they had been followed, and, no doubt, by Navajos. Perhaps this was the end of their toilsome retreat. With visions of death presenting themselves, he wondered again whether he ought to arouse Ned. Then he realized the futility of such action. As the moccasined feet drew near Alan could read death in each approaching sound. But at the edge of the trees there was another pause, and then he knew that the Indians had scattered.

Straining every muscle in an effort to breathe naturally, like one asleep, the boy counted the seconds while he waited for the clutch of a savage hand. And as the moment pa.s.sed and the attack did not come he tried to speculate on what the strangers were doing. A guttural half exclamation soon allowed him a quick breath of temporary relief. The Indians were only after their supplies.

The savages had found the half-concealed packs of the two boys.

Alan knew this by the location of the sounds that now came to him, and then, as the prowlers withdrew again into the open and the faint moonlight, it could be seen that they were bearing all the belongings of the two lads. For perhaps ten minutes Alan lay without moving and watched the Indians. He could make out that they were hastily looking over the packs and dividing what yet remained among themselves. Then ponies were led to the place of the camp fire and the members of the band quickly threw themselves on their animals and disappeared into the night.

Almost paralyzed with the knowledge of what this meant Alan now softly put his hand on Ned's face:

"Are you awake?" came instantly from Ned.

"Are you?" retorted Alan in surprise.

"Yes," whispered Ned, "I saw it all. But I didn't move, because I was afraid of arousing you."

"Here, too," exclaimed Alan. "Did you feel them take your revolver?"

Ned's band flew to his belt.

"Is yours gone too? I saw them when they came up from the fire.

But you did right to keep still. If we had moved I expect we'd have had our throats cut."

"That was one of them I saw to-day," added Alan, "and I guess we're lucky to be alive."

"Yes," added Ned rising to his feet, "we are. They are satisfied, I suppose, to let us starve."

The prospect was a trying one. If the range behind them was the one they hoped it was, there was only one more valley between its summit and the outer ridge of the Tunit Chas. If they could reach this ridge they believed they might see Mount Wilson's peak. But even that meant another thirty miles to the scene of the attack on Buck's camp on the banks of the Chusco. And from that place it was eighty-five miles to a railroad and help!

The boys sat in the edge of the pines as the new moon disappeared, leaving them in utter darkness, and tried desperately to encourage each other. Both had the grit to set themselves stoutly to the apparently hopeless task. Without food or firearms and possibly without water, they knew they would find the task gigantic. But nothing was to be gained by waiting for starvation and death in the wilderness, and their decision was to do what they could, to try the almost impossible, and if they failed to fail with their faces toward the east.

"Why not start now?" urged Alan. "Let's use what strength we have."

But Ned showed him the folly of this.

"A night's rest will enable us to make better time to-morrow. And besides, we can't make headway when we can't follow the compa.s.s."