CHAPTER XVIII
Starting Into the Mountains
Early the next morning the youths were up getting ready for the longjourney into the unknown. They had all their possessions packed whenDr. Rander came with mules and provisions.
He was introduced by Bob and Joe to the other members of theexpedition, who, particularly Mr. Holton and Mr. Lewis, recognized himas a capable explorer.
The youths made arrangements for Karl Sutman to meet them in a towncalled Pasaje, at the end of a sufficient time. The aviator was tohave his monoplane ready to take the youths to the locality occupiedby other divisions of the expedition.
"Now do be careful and don't take any chances," warned Mr. Holton,after additional boxes of food had been strapped on the backs of othermules. "Remember, slow traveling with safety is far better than rapidgoing with danger."
"We'll be all right," Joe assured him, as the mules were being placedin line. "And Karl will fly us to your locality in due time. Don'tforget that you are to be careful too."
With fond farewells, Bob and Joe and the old man drove the mulestoward the rim of mountains that skirted the eastern horizon. Theyrounded a high hill and lost sight of their relatives and friends.
For some time the youths were silent with their thoughts. Who knewwhether they would ever see those dear ones again? Even at best, therewere untold hardships and dangers in the mountains that lay beforethem. Would they be able to meet any crisis?
It was some time before the boys resumed their natural peace of mind.But when they did, they were eager to take in all the sights of thiswonderland.
There was a wide trail that led eastward from Cuzco. Over this thepack train went at a slow but steady gait that promised to eat up themiles sooner than it might be thought possible.
"Wonder if we'll see any big game?" remarked Bob, as he and Joe walkednear the rear of the pack train. "I'd like especially to bag one ofthose white condors Dad was talking about. You think there are any?"
"Possibly," replied Joe. "But if there are, it isn't likely that we'llsee one."
The three adventurers followed a well-beaten path to the town ofPuquiura, which they found nothing more than a group of native mudhuts.
"Not much life here," observed Joe, as the caravan of pack animalspassed on through the village.
"I suppose this is typical of all the towns in these mountains," camefrom Bob. "Just a bunch of dirty mud dwellings."
Led by Dr. Rander, the Americans wound around a narrow trail thatreached steadily upward. They were making fairly good time, and ifnothing prevented, they expected to arrive at a much larger townbefore noon.
"I think I'll try riding my mule," announced Bob, who, along with hisfriends, had been walking beside the mounts.
"Better watch out," cautioned Joe. "Those little animals aretreacherous sometimes."
Bob called to Dr. Rander to wait for him. Then, pulling his mount outof the line, he placed his foot in the stirrup and threw his legacross the sturdy little mule's back.
But just then something happened. The animal wheeled about, and,throwing its hind feet high in the air, it leaped forward with a snortof resentment.
"Help!" cried the amused and yet worried Bob.
"What do you want me to do?" inquired Joe, taking in the scene withinterest.
"Grab hold of his tail! Do anything!" Despite his serious predicament,Bob could not help laughing, although he was angered.
"Get hold of his tail, huh? Not much." Joe intended to derive as muchamusement as possible from his friend's plight.
All joking was cast aside a moment later when, at an unexpectedmoment, the mule gave a quick turn to the left and threw Bob to theground. The youth caught the fall with his arm, and so escaped injury,but his anger was as strong as ever.
"I'll fix you, you----"
Bob did not finish the words, for at that moment the mule leapedforward and galloped off at a rapid pace.
"After him!" Bob cried, dashing ahead as fast as his legs would carryhim.
A more amusing sight could hardly be found. Joe's laughter mingledwith the sound of rapidly moving hoofs, and even old Dr. Rander joinedin the merriment.
"Think he'll catch him?" queried Joe, as pursuer and pursued vanishedbehind a heavy cloud of dust.
"I believe so," the old man returned, straining his eyes to make outthe figures ahead. "The mule will soon tire of such fast running. Heisn't used to it."
Dr. Rander was right. Five minutes later Bob appeared from around ahill leading the now calm animal. There was a smile of triumph on theyouth's face as he faced his friends.
"Now that everything has worked out all right, suppose we forget thatanything happened," grinned Bob, as he placed the mule back in theline.
"You going to try riding him again?" asked Joe with a laugh.
"Not on your life. I value my hide too much for that."
They set forward, heading for the distant high peaks, which werealways visible.
An hour of steady climbing brought them to a high plateau, which wasbordered by mountains. From this elevation the explorers could commanda good view of Cuzco, which seemed but a miniature city in thedistance.
"I don't feel so well," groaned Bob, whose face was becoming pale. "Ican't get my breath without wheezing. And my stomach seems out oforder."
Dr. Rander happened to be near when Bob complained, and lost no timein attending to the youth.
"You probably have _soroche_, or mountain sickness," he said, notingthat Bob's pulse was unusually rapid. "Do you think you can keep on tothe next town?"
"Sorry, but I'm afraid I'll have to lie down somewhere." The strickenBob was visibly becoming worse with every minute.
"Wonder if I'll have another touch of mountain sickness?" mused Joe,as his friend stretched out on a blanket that Dr. Rander had spread onthe hard ground.
There was nothing to do but wait for the youth to recover. The old manexplained that often patients remained ill for several days, and thatthere was a possibility of Bob's sickness being lengthy.
In view of this, they thought it best to make camp and prepare to stayas long as necessary. There was no use making arrangements to continuethe journey until Bob's condition improved.
"Here, take this pill." Dr. Rander held a little white tablet and acup of water. "It will make you well sooner than anything else."
But it was not soon enough for Bob. All the remainder of that day hemoaned on with a splitting headache and terrible nausea. It was worse,he said, than sea sickness, of which he had experienced a touch on hisfirst ocean voyage.
The next morning, although still weak, Bob was greatly improved. Theill effects had gone, and once more he had an ambition again to get tothe trail.
But Dr. Rander protested.
"You are not strong enough yet," he said. "We'll wait till noon andsee if you're improved sufficiently by that time."
By the time the sun was directly overhead, Bob was his old naturalself again. He was overly anxious to make up for lost time.
Lunch over, the explorers again took to the trail, driving the staunchlittle mules along at a rapid pace.
"Now lead me to those secrets of the Andes!" said Bob, as Cuzco fadedfrom view.
At length the adventurers came to another town, which Dr. Randercalled Cameras. They would much rather have encircled the settlement,but as there was no other trail, they passed on through.
"Let's leave the mules here near the edge of town," suggested Joe."I'd like to go back to that little store that we just passed. Mightbe able to get something we can use cheap."
"I'll go with you," said Bob.
Dr. Rander announced that he would stay with the mules and catch ashort rest. He cautioned the boys not to stay too long.
The store that Joe referred to was nothing more than an adobe hutfilled with curios of the Andes. They purchased a few articles assouvenirs and started back to the edge of town, where the old man waswaiting.
Suddenly there came the sound of rough voices, and a m
oment later adozen shots rent the air.