Air Ship Boys : Or, the Quest of the Aztec Treasure

  CHAPTER XXV

  BARTERING STORES A MILE IN THE AIR

  "And now," said Alan, "it's ho, for Camp Eagle and our search atlast."

  "I don't know about all that sentiment," answered Ned, thoughtfully."I've been--"

  But he was interrupted. The boys, aboard the Cibola again, werejust about to cast off when Alan cut short Ned's remark with anexclamation.

  "Isn't that a balloon?" he exclaimed pointing to an orange-likeobject high in the heavens toward the west.

  Ned caught up the binoculars and had a quick look at the rapidlymoving ball which was rushing toward them from over the distantTunit Chas Mountains.

  "No question about it," answered Ned, handing Alan the glasses; "aballoon, and a big one."

  "And out here, too!" commented Alan in surprise. "I guess the worldis pretty small after all."

  "Everything ready?" asked Ned eagerly. And then as the retainingrope was untied from the frame of the car and slipped down and outfrom under the cottonwood snag the Cibola shot upward.

  "I have an idea," continued Ned, "and please don't object until youthink it over. Let's make a little social call on the stranger!"

  "A call!" exclaimed Alan, plainly showing his astonishment; "a callon a balloon five thousand feet in the air?"

  "Certainly. We are going that high anyway. And we have the meansof going where we like. If we go up until we strike the same,stratum of air the stranger is moving in we have our propeller andaeroplanes to check and guide ourselves. When it passes we caneasily run alongside!"

  "Well, if that isn't the limit!" laughed Alan. "And I suppose we'llexchange greetings and messages like ships long at sea."

  "And," added Ned, "we can send some word to Major Honeywell. Youcan see our fast flying friend isn't going to stop around here."

  The Cibola was rising fast and the two air craft were coming closerand closer. As the dirigible reached the altitude at which the freeballoon was sailing Ned put the aeroplane in operation, stopped theascent of the Cibola and then, sweeping his own car into the samedirection with the other balloon he reversed the propeller and heldhis own craft against the breeze until the stranger swept by.

  Then, throwing on the propeller again at full speed, Ned made theCibola bound after the other craft, and in a few minutes, aided bythe favoring wind, they were within hailing distance.

  Ned was on the bridge, his face flushed with the novelty of therace. A mile above the earth, the two air ships came closer until,as if running on parallel tracks, they were nearly together andabreast.

  "Balloon ahoy!" exclaimed Ned at last and in true maritime style.

  "The Arrow of Los Angeles, bound across the continent," came thesharp answer.

  "The Cibola from Clarkeville, New Mexico," called Ned in reply,"exploring. Please report us over Mount Wilson."

  Then the two ships of the sky came closer. The boys could see thatthe Arrow was well equipped for its purpose. Two determined lookingaeronauts were leaning from the heavily laden car.

  "Need anything?" shouted the Arrow cordially.

  "In good shape," answered Ned, "but a little short on provisions."

  "Plenty here," came quickly from the Arrow, "glad to exchangefifty-pound emergency rations for ballast."

  "All right," responded Ned, "stand by to make a line fast."

  Alan, at the engine, brought the air ship up as skillfully as apilot might a vessel, and as the two cars almost touched Ned passedthe end of his drag rope, and the occupants of the Arrow with aquick turn made her basket fast to the bridge of the Cibola. Therewere handshakes, mutual congratulations and quick explanations. TheArrow, the property of a wealthy amateur balloonist, was attemptingto sail, from the Pacific to the Atlantic and was, so far, beatingthe best calculation of her owner. In reaching the desired heightthat morning, however, much ballast had been used and thepossibility of a renewed supply was jumped at.

  "These extra provisions were packed with the idea of possibly usingthem as ballast and we don't really need them. And, so," theyexplained to the boys, "if you do you had better take them and giveus sand."

  The exchange was quickly made, and then, having stored their newfood supply safely on the bridge, they said hasty farewells.

  Ned had scribbled this note on a page from his note book: "MajorBaldwin Honeywell, Annex, Chicago. By courtesy of Balloon Arrow.Bourke, escort, killed by Indians. Search begins at once. Campestablished on plateau, second range Tunit Chas Mountains, thirtymiles due east Wilson's Peak. Greetings. Written 5,600 feet aboveSan Juan River, New Mexico. Ned Napier and Alan Hope."

  The case of provisions weighed a trifle more than the ballast givenin exchange, and as the line holding the two cars together was castoff the Cibola sank slowly below the level of the Arrow. Then, asthe Cibola's engines began to push the car ahead in a wide turningcircle, Ned called up to the disappearing Arrow:

  "Great country, this New Mexico, where you can buy food with sand.Good-bye and success to you!"

  The answer was lost in space as the ships parted.

  "And now," said Ned, after lashing the now case of provisions to thebridge netting, "we've wasted some more precious time. Do you stillthink we had better lose a night at Camp Eagle? We have all thefuel we can carry."

  Alan saw what was in the wind.

  "We have extra provisions, water and gasoline. My own judgment iswe had better make at once for our starting point."

  "I guess you are right," answered Alan after long thought; "I don'tknow what is to be gained by the trouble of a landing at the camp bythe lake."

  "Nothing but that hot supper," smiled Ned, "and we'll have to putthat off a few days, I think."

  "All right," agreed Alan, "set your course and with luck we'll do alittle treasure hunting before dark."

  This being settled, the prow of the Cibola was pointed a little westof northwest, and, dropping to a lower stratum to escape the livelyeastern breeze at the higher altitude, the boys started at lastdirectly for the and arid broken mountains of Northwestern Arizona.

  This region, bordering on the great sand dunes lying beyond theChelly River, was to be the beginning point of their arduous andmomentous search. From that place to a point nearly one hundredmiles to the southeast lay the secret fastnesses of mountain, canyonand mesa wherein, somewhere, according to the Spanish soldier'srecord, was the secret city of a dead race and the treasure that hadbrought Ned and Alan half way across a continent.

  What such a search meant one glance at the monotonous and unendingrock easily told. On foot, only the compass could lead a manforward in such wilderness of abrupt heights and winding chasms. Asthe boys meant to manage it, the attempt had possibilities, but itmight mean days of drifting, of watching, of doubling back and forthover every possible site. And that was now their task.

  So far as they could, Ned and Alan meant to begin at the extremenorthern end of this unknown land and, sailing back and forth fromeast to west, cover every foot of exposed ground with their powerfulglasses.

  Both boys had long since agreed in this conclusion: the "city" meantno more than one large structure similar to but on a larger scalethan those found in the Chaco Canyon at the extreme southern end ofthe Tunit Chas Mountains. This would be indicated now by nothingmore than rectangular lines of wall stones, probably in piles,outlining the shape of the "city" or palace. Prominent among theseruins should be the more elevated temple, the object of theirsearch. And beneath this should be found the underground "khivas"or religious chambers.

  That this "city" was secret or hidden was proof to Ned and Alan andMajor Honeywell that it would not occupy a prominent place such asan exposed plateau or a high level mesa. Only one other locationwas left, the abutting shelf of some canyon. And the youngnavigators had pictured to themselves that, if this should prove tobe the location, the shelf would be so elevated as not to be visiblefrom the front or below and that it would be concealed from above byan extended and overhanging cliff.

  "Look for it as
you would look for a bird's nest in the cliff,"suggested Ned. And that was the plan of search.

  It was nearly three o'clock when the boys had bade farewell to theArrow and about half past five when the Cibola sailed over thesecond ridge of the Tunit Chas. But the course was far to the northand there was naturally no sign of the waterfall plateau or CampEagle. For a time they thought of passing over the camp anddropping a message, but this pleasant idea was given up.

  "Although," as Alan expressed it, "one of Elmer's hot suppers and asoft bed of balsam boughs to-night wouldn't be bad."

  Ned thought of the four nights of hard floor and agreed, but hesaid:

  "You'll have to forget soft beds if we're ever going to find Cibola.We'll come down to-night, though, and make a camp of our own with afire and a pot of coffee, and at daybreak we'll be off."

  The boys had taken a light luncheon just after starting on thereturn trip, and now, soaring over the Tunit Chas again, they beganto be anxious for night and supper.

  At seven o'clock the peaks and ridges below them had begun to dropinto foothills and as the great sandy deserts of distant Utah andnearer by Arizona came before their eyes the boys decided that itwas time to anchor for the night. They were sailing over theeastern slope of the last low ranges of hills, barren of trees orvegetation. The aeroplanes being given the proper depression, theCibola shot earthward and then, the propeller coming to a pause,floated gently along above the jumble of rocks. Making fast theanchor in a ragged pile of these the boys soon drew the Cibola tothe ground and lashed her fore and aft to heavy boulders.

  The firm ground felt delicious to the tired boys and they refreshedthemselves with a brisk race over the open space between the rockpiles. Then came Alan's camp fire, a hot supper and preparationsfor a good night's rest. There were no pine needles of balsamboughs, but fatigue made a fine mattress, and it was not long beforethe tired boys, rolled up in their blankets, were fast asleep on thesoft sand.

  "I hope," said Ned drowsily as they were dropping off to sleep,"that we won't have any Jack Jellups or thieving Utes to-night. Mynerves need rest."

  Then the boys got eight good hours of health and strength givingsleep in the tonic air of the Arizona Mountains.