CHAPTER XII.
THE AVIATOR BOYS’ BOLD DASH.
In their excitement at their discovery of the figure of the quesal theboys lingered till late in the afternoon at the foot of the cliffscanning it from every possible point of view in an effort to ascertainif there were not some hidden opening in it or at least some precipitoustrail leading to its summit. Their scrutiny was a failure so far as anydiscovery of the kind was concerned, and somewhat disheartened at theimpossibility of solving the significance of the quesal they startedback for camp.
It was after dark when they reached it having come the last part oftheir way with the greatest difficulty owing to the failing light.Frank’s skill as a navigator however availed them and with the help ofhis pocket compass which he wore attached to his watch-chain, theyfinally made camp. Harry had over his shoulder his pig and after thelantern had been lit in the tent and the fire started the younger boytook out his skinning knife and started to dissect his prize.
As butchers the boys were not a success but they managed nevertheless tocut off some very appetizing chops and when these were placed on the tincover that Harry rigged over the fire and greased with some of the porkfat the boys made a very good meal indeed. Their supper concluded theysat round the fire and discussed the adventures of the day.
They threshed the mystery of the figure of the quesal over and over inall its bearings but without arriving at any conclusion. It seemed to bea hopeless mystery why the bird had been put on the cliff-face.
“There must have been some purpose in it,” muttered Frank, for thetwentieth time. “Men wouldn’t place the figure of the sacred bird on acliff without intending to convey some meaning by it.”
“They may have just decided that the cliff needed decorating and put itthere for ornament,” weakly suggested Harry.
“Not likely,” replied the elder boy. “No, Harry that quesal was putthere for some good reason. It was meant to point out”—he stoppedsuddenly and then jumped to his feet with a wild whoop that made thejungle round about ring.
“By jove I’ve got it,” he cried exultingly.
“Got what,” questioned Harry, “hydrophobia or St. Vitus’s dance?”
“No,” roared Frank, “I’ve got it. The quesal—the secret it points to.”
“Well, go ahead. What have you made of it? Don’t keep me in suspensewhile you caper about like a Salome dancer,” shouted Harry.
“Its bill was pointing down, wasn’t it?” demanded Frank.
“Yes; but what has that to do?”—began Harry.
“It has everything to do with it,” exclaimed Frank. “It would beimpossible for there to be an opening in the cliff face itself, wouldn’tit?”
“You are right. I guess we about settled that,” was the reply.
“Well, I may be wrong,” went on Frank, more seriously, “but I don’tthink I am. My idea is that if we dig a bit at the foot of the cliff,about under the quesal’s beak, we shall find something interesting.”
“Buried treasure, hurray!” shouted Harry.
“More likely to be buried pottery,” laughed Frank. “I don’t take muchstock in these buried treasure stories; but at any rate, even if we onlyfind an old mule’s bones, it would be worth investigating.”
“We’ll start digging to-morrow morning,” gleefully cried Harry.
“No, I am afraid that we shall have to postpone that job,” rejoinedFrank seriously, “we had another object when we started on this trip.The Chester expedition is out to get hold of Billy Barnes and yank himout of the peck of trouble we both know he’s walked into.”
“You are right, Frank, as usual,” cried Harry abashed, “I simply forgotfor a moment.”
His eyes swept over the edge of the plateau and rested on the dark seaof jungle which lay stretched apparently into infinity beneath them.
“By jove,” he cried suddenly, “look there!” The lad pointed eastwardexcitedly. As Frank’s eyes followed the direction of his finger he sawsomething that made him get into the tent and out again with fieldglasses in two jumps. Harry’s sharp eyes had spied out half-a-dozen tinypoints of fire ranged in a circle so far off that they seemed littlemore than bright pinpoints on the black curtain of night.
With night glass in hand Frank gazed long at the tiny glowing sparks. Atlast he handed the glasses to Harry with the remark:
“They are camp-fires all right but whether Rogero’s or Estrada’s we haveno means of knowing at this distance.”
Harry confirmed Frank’s opinion after a long period of careful gazing.
“They must be a big distance from here,” he commented, “even with theglass they seem hardly more than blurs.”
“If they are Rogero’s camp-fires,” went on Frank without replying toHarry’s last remark, “it’s ten chances to one that Billy Barnes is therenow. The only question is how we are to get to his aid without beingourselves discovered. They have machine guns undoubtedly, and if we wereto be seen in daylight hovering about the camp it would be easy for themto bring us down and worst of all we should not have done any good.”
“That is true,” agreed Harry, “but what do you propose to do about it?”
“Go at night,” answered the practical Frank.
“At night?” repeated Harry in an amazed tone.
“Yes,—and to-night at that,” quietly went on Frank. “We couldn’t have abetter object to aim for than those camp-fires and we shall be able todo a little scouting and be back here before daylight. I don’t wantRogero if that is his camp to discover our hiding-place.”
“How do you propose, even at night, to get near enough to the camp to doany good without being discovered?” asked Harry.
“My plan is this,” replied Frank, while his younger brother listenedwith rapt attention, “you will drop me from the _Golden Eagle_ by therope ladder when we near the camp. I will make my way there and see whatI can find out. When I want you to pick me up I will flash my electricpocket-lamp twice and you who have been on the lookout, must sail slowlyover me so that I can catch the end of the ladder.
“Of course the success of the plan depends upon if we can find an openspace to swoop down on,” he went on. “I infer though from the fact thatwe can see the camp-fires at this distance that there must be a clearedspace there.”
Harry had been silent while Frank outlined his scheme. As his brotherceased talking he shook his head determinedly.
“Do you think I’m going to stand for you taking all that risk evensupposing you could do it,” he burst out. “Where do I come in? It isn’tfair.”
“When we left New York who did we decide was to be captain of the_Golden Eagle_?” asked Frank quietly.
“Why, you, of course,” rejoined Harry, “but we didn’t say anything aboutyour assuming all the perils. If you are going to risk your life I wantto run an equal amount of danger—you can’t go into this thing alone.”
“You will be running risk more than you imagine,” replied Frank, “youwill have to run with the engine muffled down to a dangerously slowpace. There is a chance too of our coming to grief altogether in makinga landing but we are in this thing now and we must see it through. IfBilly Barnes is in that camp we are going to get him out of it no matterwhat may happen.”
“Well, of course you are captain and I have to obey orders,” said Harry,“if you finally do get in a tight place, though I shall try and take theground even at the risk of wrecking the machine. If there’s going to beany fighting, we’ll be side by side.”
“That’s just the very thing I hope won’t happen,” was Frank’s reply. “Iwant to get Billy out of there with as little fuss as possible, if he’sthere at all. I’ve got a plan that I think will be successful.”
“What is that?” asked Harry eagerly.
“Wait and see how it works,” laughed Frank, “and now come on we’ll turnin till midnight for we shall need all our wits and energy about usto-night.”
Both boys had formed the
habit of waking at any hour they desired almostto the minute; a habit which some people possess naturally and otherscan acquire by practice. It was only a few minutes past twelve then byFrank’s watch that they both awoke and strapping on their revolvershurried over to the _Golden Eagle_.
“We’ll have to lighten her of everything not absolutely necessary,”declared Frank, “you see I hope we shall have an extra passenger tobring back with us and it won’t do to risk her buoyancy by overloading.”
The provision basket was unstrapped, in accordance with the lightningplan, and everything not absolutely necessary to the operation of thecraft cast remorselessly away. The sides and seats of the pilot housewere removable and it didn’t take long for the boys to unclamp these andstore them in the tent. After about an hour and a half’s work the_Golden Eagle_ was pronounced by her young owners to be ready forflight.
“I don’t like to chance it but we’ve got to have a light,” said Frank ashe switched on the searchlight, so that he could see where to drive the_Golden Eagle_ on the “take-off.”
“I hardly suppose though,” he went on, “that it will be noticed away uphere. We can shut it off as soon as we get underway.”
The rays of the light showed the young aviators that they would not havevery much room for a running start unless the engine was driven atcapacity. Even then the boys decided that in order to run no chances itwould be necessary to back up to the extreme edge of the jungle thatbordered the cleared plateau on its western edge. Accordingly Frankthrew in the clutch that operated the bicycle wheels and as soon as hepulled over the reverse lever the _Golden Eagle_ ran backward to thedesired point as easily as an automobile is backed in a crowded street.
A great flock of shrieking parrots arose from the surrounding tree-topswith cries of alarm as the brilliant white rays of the searchlight cutthrough the night. They settled back again, however, after a few scaredrevolutions about the strange, glowing-eyed monster that they sawbeneath them.
As Harry gave the “all-ready” signal, Frank started the engine, whichfell to work as usual without a hitch. The _Golden Eagle_ dashed forwardas he threw in the first, second and third speeds in rapid successionand with her twin-propellors revolving at 1,200 revolutions a minute,rose in a graceful, upward curve just clearing the tree-tops underFrank’s trained manipulation.
As she shot forward and upward, heading as straight as an arrow for thetwinkling pinpoints—the objective of the midnight trip—both boys gave asudden startled cry of “Hark!”
Ringing till the whole mountain resounded with the clangor of his wildtocsin, the bell-ringer was at work again!
The Boy Aviators in Nicaragua; or, In League with the Insurgents Page 13
