CHAPTER XXIII

  CAMP EAGLE IN THE MOUNTAINS

  It seemed too wonderful to be true. But words were proof enoughthat Ned Napier and Alan Hope had found a new use for dirigibleballoons. Faithful Buck's death was more than the loss of acompanion. In the short time the boys had known him he had shownthat under his rough frontier bearing he was a brave and honest man.

  "We can't go back now," explained Ned, "and we can't afford to landand wait for day. We can't all stay in the Cibola, and those of uswho are landed must be left in a safe place. Our work," hecontinued turning to Bob, "is in the Tunit Chas Mountains, thirtymiles west of here. It seems as if you had to know it. We'll gothere to-night and land, if we can, on some isolated and inaccessibleplateau. We'll make that our new relief camp and you and Elmer musttake charge of it. To-morrow Alan and I will return in the Cibola toour abandoned wagon, bury Buck and bring away such of our stores asmay be left. It's going to be a great loss, for I suppose theIndians have stolen everything. If the gasoline is gone it will cutshort our work in the mountains."

  "I don't think it will be lost," said Elmer, quietly. "We tried tosave it. We rolled it into the river."

  "But it will float away," exclaimed Alan.

  "Unless de tins caught on in de drift in de bend jes' below,"answered Elmer. "I seen four ob de eight tins dar befo' dark."

  "That's what I call genius," exclaimed Ned. "Elmer, you're a brick!And now our course is due east at half speed. By daybreak we'll beover the Tunit Chas. Until then, the rest of you turn in. I'll runthe ship."

  Fifteen minutes later, despite the nerve-racking experiences of themomentous day, Alan, Bob and Elmer were wrapped in their blanketsand sound asleep on the bridge deck of the Cibola.

  The night passed slowly, but Captain Ned stood the long trick at thewheel, happy and content. To feel the Cibola, the product of hisyouthful genius, at last moving forward in obedience to hisslightest touch drove all thought of fatigue and sleep from him.

  But, above all, the early light of the coming day was to reveal tohim a sight of the land of his hopes. There, before him, were theTunit Chas; peaks and chasms of unsolved mystery wherein thecenturies had held close their secret. Many trials had blocked hisway. Was he now about to reap the reward of his labors? Did thehidden city of Cibola lie somewhere below him? Or were the Palaceof the Pueblos and the Turquoise Temple but empty myths?

  The young aeronaut's present plans were simple enough. The Cibolahad now been afloat twelve hours and nearly half her gasoline wasexhausted. More than once in the night Ned had noticed that theballoon was settling lower and he had been forced to maintain hislevel by casting over ballast. It was apparent that they werealready losing gas.

  In boyish impulse and sympathy they had made Bob Russell, the youngreporter, a third and unexpected passenger, and accident had forcedthem to add Elmer Grissom, their colored friend and servant. Andthese extra occupants of the car must be landed at the earliestopportunity.

  This became imperative now because, the relief and supply station onthe Chusco river having been destroyed, the Cibola must add enoughballast and gasoline to make its exploring tour in the mountains inone journey. The original plan had been to make quick dashes tothe camp on the Chusco for gasoline and then return to themountains. To provide for this new weight the two new passengersand a good portion of the air ship's stores must be landed. And themost feasible plan seemed to be to set up a new emergency camp inthe heart of the mountains.

  Many things might happen to the now perfectly working balloon. And,even if cast away in the mountains, it was no part of Ned and Alan'splan to cease searching for the temple of treasure until direnecessity drove them from it. In case wreck and privation came itwould be comforting to know that somewhere in the same wildernessfood and friends awaited them.

  The first glow of the sun painted for the ever watchful pilot apicture beyond the possibilities of brush and canvas. Here andthere out of the blackness below sprang rosy points, the sun-tintedpeaks of the Tunit Chas. Down the mountain sides, like rivers ofsilver pink, fell the sun's light. Then the valleys began to openout of the chasm of night-dark canyons wrought in the wilderness ofthe mountain sides. Here and there, oases left by the devastatinghand of time, rose high plateaus, tree-crowned and verdant. Andthen, higher up among the white peaks, sentinel-like, stood gianttables whose brown tops and precipitous sides told of inaccessibleand arid wastes. "And somewhere," said Ned to himself, "in thisTitanic chaos lies the object of our search."

  Starting at half speed, Ned had soon reduced the engine to quarterspeed. When he aroused his sleeping companions Wilson's peak, theirchief landmark, was just in sight far behind. His calculationsplaced the present location of the Cibola thirty miles from theChusco river and just over the eastern Tunit Chas Mountains.

  "All hands turn to," shouted Ned cheerily, "and stand by to make alanding."

  There was a scramble, a rubbing of yet sleepy eyes and then anoutburst of admiring wonder. The Cibola had sailed over two brokenridges enclosing an irregular, broken valley and was now lookingdown on a shelf-like plateau abutting on the second ridge and westof it. On three sides the plateau dropped precipitately into alower rock-strewn, valley. On its eastern side it joined the stillhigher ridge. A pine forest crowned the top of the shelf-likemountain side and then ran up to the higher slopes until the carpetof green faded into the brown wastes of the timber line. In thevery center of the wilderness of trees glistened a little lake ofmountain water. From it the silver thread of a rivulet wormed itsway for a mile or more among the trees and then trickled over theside of the cliff in a vapory waterfall.

  Ned had swung the Cibola into a wide curve and the balloon and carwere soon directly over the mountain creek. He threw the aeroplaneguides downward and the slowly moving car drifted lower until it wasbut four hundred feet above the water and the overhanging pines.Then, following the water course beneath, the air ship floated backinto the woods and the little lake widened out beneath them. Twodeer, at the water's edge, stood unalarmed. On the south of thelake a grassy opening indicated Ned's destination.

  "Here," he explained, "we can make a safe landing. It is an idealplace for a camp, with plenty of firewood and water."

  "And meat, too," interrupted Alan, pointing to the deer.

  "Venison and bear meat too, no doubt," laughed Ned.

  From the top of a dead pine tree an eagle rose and soared lazilyaway.

  "It's like the camping out places you read about," exclaimed Bob."That eagle nest completes the picture."

  "It does," interrupted Ned, "and I hope you won't forget thepicture. That high, barren tree is your landmark. Some day you mayneed it. Remember; from the valley below your camp can be found bylocating the little waterfall on the cliff. From the timber lineabove you will know it when you see the eagle's nest. And now letgo the anchor. We have no gas to spare, and can't afford to openthe valve."

  To make a landing in a balloon without throwing open a valve andwasting precious gas is almost impossible. The craft could only bekept near the ground by keeping it in motion or by causing thepropeller fans to depress currents of air on the aeroplanes.Therefore, as soon as the engine stopped, the Cibola would mounthigher. But resourceful Ned had long since thought out thisproblem.

  The engine's speed was reduced and the anchor was quickly lowereduntil it caught hard and fast in a strong pine tree. The contactshook the fragile car and sent the bag bounding, but when it wasseen that the iron had fixed itself firmly three of the boys,pulling on the anchor rope, gradually drew the great buoyant cardown until it floated just above the tree top. To drag it lowerwas, impossible, for one sharp branch might injure the bag beyondrepair.

  When the ship was safely anchored just above the tree, thetwenty-five foot landing ladder was lowered and Ned himself made hisway down its fragile rungs into the tree. .

  "Hold on tight," he continued, "I'm getting off."

  As he did so and found foo
ting in the tree branches the Cibolatugged to free itself, as if, overjoyed to be rid of Ned's onehundred and forty-five pounds of weight. As soon as the youngcommander was safely on the ground he ordered the other boys to payout the anchor rope and again the Cibola rose in the air.

  "Now," ordered Ned, "start your engine and head the car over theopening."

  While Ned stood below directing, with hands to his mouth,trumpet-wise, the Cibola strained at her anchor rope and then,obeying her rudder, moved directly over the open space, her nosepointing skyward at an angle of forty-five degrees.

  "Hold her," yelled Ned, "and haul back."

  The boys again strained at the taut anchor rope until the car stoodjust clear of the trees and some two hundred feet in the air.

  "Now lower your drag rope and an empty ballast bag," called Ned.

  While this was being done the navigator of the Cibola was busycarrying chunks of broken rock from the margin of the little lake,and in a short time the boys above were hauling away on the rope andlifting aboard new ballast. With each bag of it the Cibola sanklower and lower, until finally, when it was almost balanced in theair, Ned easily drew the balloon to the ground.

  But the landing was not yet finished. Not a passenger in the craftcould step ashore until Ned had added more stone. But when enoughof this had been lifted up to the hands above, and Elmer couldalight, the two willing workers on the ground soon made it possiblefor the other boys to spring overboard. Then the four of themloaded enough more rock on the bridge to take the place of thestores to be landed.

  There were not many things that could be left: water, and half theprovisions and, preserved goods; a few cooking utensils; blankets,an extra compass, two revolvers, a hatchet and saw; a light silktent; matches and candles, a medicine case, ammunition, and, to makeway for the gasoline that it was hoped might be recovered, all theextra oil on board--for the reservoirs yet contained an ample supplyto make the trip back to the scene of Elmer's attack.

  At a safe distance from the balloon Elmer had returned to hisfavorite occupation. He got a fire going and while the other boysreplaced the rocks on board with bags of sand from the margin of thelake the colored lad made hot coffee and broiled some bacon. It wasa luxury after the cold, dry food of the long night.

  "When you come back this evening," exclaimed Bob jovially, "I'll tryto have a juicy venison steak."

  "An' hot biscuits," chimed in Elmer.

  "And a good bed of balsam boughs," added Bob, "and a fine camp fire,and we can sit wound it and talk it all over."

  "And if we don't get back to-night you'd better have your camp fireanyway," said Ned.

  "Ain't you goin' to git back to-night?" ruefully interrupted Elmer,as he poured the smoking coffee.

  "You never know what you are going to do in a balloon," answered Ned."If we can we will. If we can't we won't. If we are not backto-night we may not be here for several days. We've got work aheadnow, and plenty of it."

  "We'll be here when you come," replied Bob earnestly, with a smokingbit of bacon in his fingers, "whenever that is."

  "No," replied Ned, "if we are not here in six days you must makeyour way out to civilization. You have food enough but you can'twait longer than that. As for directions, all I can say is thatfrom this ridge back of us you can see across the half desert valleyto the higher range of mountains. Should you cross the valleybearing almost due east and be able to get over or through thatsecond ridge you will be able to see the top of Mount Wilson, thirtymiles further east. From Mount Wilson it is fifteen miles southeastto the camp Elmer made. There you should pick up the trail ofBuck's wagon back to the railroad eighty-five miles south."

  Bob's eyes opened.

  "Is it as bad as that?" he said half laughing. "We'll certainlyhave to get busy if the Cibola breaks down."

  "Or," went on Ned, "any strewn in the valley below here flowsfinally into the San Juan River to the north. If you can make yourway to this river and then succeed in following its banks eastwarduntil you reach the plains, some time or other you'll find afrontier settlement."

  "Or Utes," interrupted Alan.

  "Gib me de mountain road," exclaimed Elmer quickly."Nomo'Utesfo'me!"

  "Yes," added Ned, "that's the trouble. The route to the San Juan isnot only through a barren, broken mountain region, but it gets youfinally right into the Southern Ute reservation. And, remember,too, that this is Navajo land. Your safety with them, should you bediscovered, will be in diplomacy. And now good-bye--until we meetagain."

  "And if we don't," replied Bob, huskily, taking the hands of the twoboys in turn, "I just want to say again that you boys have done forme what I can't forget and what I can't repay. I don't know why youare here, and I don't want to know. What I've seen will never berevealed, when I get back to Kansas City and the Comet, until youtell me I am free to tell it. And you'd know what that means to meif you knew what a cracking good yarn my experience has given mealready. Good-bye and good luck!"

  Ned and Alan clambered aboard; the rocks were cast overboard, and asthe Cibola shot skyward the boys could hear Elmer calling:

  "Member, boys--we all'll be at Camp Eagle an' supper will beawaitin'."