CHAPTER XII
The Pangs of _Soroche_
"For the love of Mike!" cried Bob Holton. "Whatever happened?"
"Plenty!" came from Joe quietly. "We had a fight."
"A fight?" Mr. Wallace was perplexed.
"Yes, and a big one at that," said Karl grimly. "But we licked them."
"Licked whom?" demanded Bob, becoming impatient. "Come on. Tell usabout it."
Mr. Holton got to his feet.
"Look over there," he directed, pointing to a spot near the tail ofthe monoplane.
Bob and Mr. Wallace looked.
Lying prone on the ground was a man, a native Colombian, evidentlystill dazed from a blow. He made not the slightest move, although itwas apparent that he was not hurt seriously.
"Karl knocked that fellow out," explained Bob's father. "In additionto being a fine aviator, that fellow's a fighter."
Bob glanced at Karl. From the start the youth had believed the aviatorcould give a good account of himself if called upon.
"But that's not telling us anything," said Mr. Wallace. "What causedthe fight? How did it all come about?"
"This way," began Mr. Holton. "Joe and Karl and I were sitting in thecabin of the 'plane discussing the expedition when we were suddenlyinterrupted by a gang of at least five rough men, who rushed at the'plane angrily. We didn't know what their object in attacking us was,and never did find out. Perhaps they wanted to steal what we have, orthey might have been in that crowd yesterday when we laughed and theythought we were making fun of them. At any rate they came at usfuriously, and one man broke out the glass in a window. We got out ofthe airplane as soon as we could to defend ourselves. We couldn't getto our guns because they're in a nailed box. But we used our fists togood advantage and finally were able to beat them off. All got awaybut that fellow over there."
"Well, of all things!" exclaimed Mr. Wallace. "Seems like we're havingtrouble and then more trouble. Bob and I had an experience on thetrain that wasn't very pleasing," he said, and then told of therobbery in which he had lost a valuable watch.
"We'll soon be out of this country, I hope," sighed Joe. "Though Isuppose it isn't the country so much as it is our stroke of bad luck."
"No," agreed Bob. "Anyone----"
He stopped quickly, as he observed that the Colombian who had beenknocked out was regaining consciousness. At first the man merelystirred about, as if totally unaware of what had happened. Then heglanced up and got to his feet.
Pausing but a moment to glare at the Americans, the man dashed away inthe direction of the town, drawing his teeth back in a wicked snarl ashe looked back at them one last time.
"I think we'd better get away from here as quickly as we can," saidMr. Holton. "For all we know there may be another gang getting readyto attack us. The whole town might even come out."
His remark served to set Karl Sutman to action.
"Let's get the gas in the tank," he suggested, walking over to the canthat Bob and Mr. Wallace had brought filled from the city on thecoast.
Together, Joe and the aviator lifted the heavy can up and poured outits contents. Then, after making the cap secure, Karl climbed in thecockpit and switched on the engine.
"This will take us from fifty to seventy miles--maybe farther,depending on how fast we fly," he told the others, as they entered thecabin and snapped the door shut.
As they left the ground, Joe noticed that they were heading west. Hewondered what was the meaning of this, since Bogota, which was south,was their goal.
"I'm going to find out," he thought, and, stepping over to thetransmitter, he put the question to Karl.
"I decided all at once to go over to that coast city--Cartagena," theaviator answered. "There we can fill both our tanks to capacity andwon't have to worry any more. Otherwise, if we merely used the gasthat Bob and Mr. Wallace brought, we might find it necessary to huntup another town that has gasoline."
"You think of everything," praised Bob's father, moving up to thetransmitter.
"I've decided to make another change, too," Karl said with a laugh. "Ithink it might be best to miss Bogota by a hundred miles and head atonce for Lima, the capital of Peru. We can stop at Quito, the capitalof Ecuador, for more gas, and then continue on to Lima. Here we'llagain land to fill our tanks. After that we'll go on to--well, perhapsto Cuzco, if we want to look around a little before Mr. Lewis getshere by steamship. How does it sound?"
"O. K.," said Bob quickly, and then, with a sudden thought, added:"How about the tank that leaks? Can we have it repaired in Cartagena?"
"Yes. That is, I'd think so. Why didn't you and Mr. Wallace find outwhile you were there?"
"Upon my word, I never thought of it," confessed the naturalistsheepishly. "And I'm sure Bob didn't. But we could easily haveinquired. After seeing the city, I'm inclined to think the tank can berepaired there."
They found a little later that Mr. Wallace was right. At the firstgarage they entered, they were informed that the tank could berepaired.
It was necessary, however, for the garage man to take his weldingoutfit over to the monoplane, which was in a field quite a distanceaway. For this he explained he would be compelled to make anadditional charge, but the others, knowing there was no other way out,did not object.
When the tank was mended and had cooled an hour or so, it was filledto capacity with gasoline. The spare was also filled, and then theexplorers were ready to resume their journey.
A little crowd of people had assembled to see the monoplane off. Theywaved a friendly farewell as it soared high into the sky.
"Now I wonder if we'll have any more trouble," mused Bob. "Or will wehave good luck and get to the Andes without much delay?"
Across jungle, plains, and hills they flew for well over an hour. Thenthey caught sight of something in the distance that thrilled them withdelight.
"The Andes!" cried Joe joyfully. "At last we've seen the AndesMountains!"
"I believe you're right," affirmed Mr. Wallace, straining his eyes tomake out more clearly the series of distant bumps that were mountains.
As the explorers flew nearer, they could easily observe the high peaksand narrow valleys. At one time they flew directly over a short rangeof exceedingly lofty mountains.
The monoplane passed farther, and the towering slopes of the Andesbecame more prominent. They looked dark and forbidding, yet beautifuland romantic.
"It's going to be dark before long," said Karl, breaking thefascinating silence. "And as it isn't wise to keep going over unknownterritory, I'm going to land--if I can find a place."
Picking out a level spot was very difficult, but finally Karl caughtsight of a flat plateau stretching several hundred yards ahead. Hebrought the machine down as best he could, taking into considerationthe difficulty of landing at high altitudes.
They did not pitch the tent that night, but curled up inside thecabin, too tired to use much more energy. By doing this they couldlock the doors and spend the night in comparative safety. Otherwise,it would have been necessary to set a guard.
A heavy slumber overtook them and held them firmly until late nextmorning.
"Now to head for Ecuador," said Joe, becoming impatient. "How longwill it take us--to get to Quito, I mean?" he asked Karl.
"Let's see. We've been about an hour out of Cartagena." Karl ponderedfor a minute. "There'll be about six more hours of air travelingbefore we get there. That is, if nothing happens."
But nothing hindered their flight, and after a thrilling ride overfascinating country the explorers came to Quito, at the very rim ofthe lofty peaks. Karl finally was able to bring the airplane safelydown at the edge of the city. He switched off the engine, and, withthe others, turned to glimpse the surrounding mountains.
On all sides were the magnificent heights of the mighty Andes,reaching thousands of feet above the city. Quito itself was built in awide valley, nearly eleven thousand feet above sea level.
All during the last hour, as they had soared steadily upward, Joe hadhad
a strange feeling of nausea, which grew still worse after they hadlanded at Quito. Now, when they were about to make their way into thecity, Joe slumped down on the ground beside the monoplane.
"I'm sick!" he moaned helplessly. "Guess I can't go with you now."
Secrets of the Andes Page 12
