IN QUEST OF THE HIDDEN TREASURE
Ted’s first impulse was to tell Stanley immediately of the conversation
he had heard in the hangar. But the roar of the motor made this
impossible. Then it occurred to him that the two officers might be
watching them, so he decided to withhold the information until they
were safely in their own quarters.
Stanley’s face was a puzzle as he listened to the story. He did not
interrupt until the recital was completed.
“I am surprised that they should resent our presence here,” he said
finally. “There is room enough for all of us, but these fellows must
have come bent on being the whole show and are determined to have their
way. Still, it is almost impossible to believe they were altogether in
earnest. Perhaps they knew you were listening and tried to frighten us.”
“That is what they said, no matter what their real intention. I think
the thing ought to be reported to the colonel.”
“Perhaps we should report it, but that would only make matters worse.
Why not wait until we have some proof of their intentions? Then we
shall have a fair case against them. In the meantime I guess we can
take care of ourselves.”
“We must take every precaution. There is too much at stake for us to
make a break one way or the other.”
“Yes, we will be very careful. And we will let it go at that. I
think we shall be able to tell without trouble if there has been any
tampering with the ships. A strict watch must be kept, for one thing,
and we shall make a most thorough inspection of our machine before each
flight,” said Stanley. “Above all, we must work fast; that is, get
into and out of our destination as soon as possible, and then we shall
be at liberty to leave the country. If we speed up we may be able to
forestall our rivals.”
“How about a test flight to-morrow? And then an attempt to reach the
hidden place a few days later?”
“The very thing. Have a first trial flight to-morrow and then spend a
few days making adjustments while we also make our other preparations.
After that the dash for the mountains. But we may have to alter our
plans greatly. With the opposition and competition we have now it
will not be possible to make an unlimited number of flights. We might
succeed in going once or twice without trouble, but if we went too
often and remained away for long periods of time they would become
suspicious and either stop us or try to follow to see what we were
doing.”
“I have a scheme we could try. Why not take a load of equipment on
the first trip and cache it in one of the caves; then open up the
underground river and take out as much gold as we want that way. If we
have to discontinue flying before we bring out very much in the plane
we can go back by the overland route and pick up what we have hidden in
the forest. That will save a lot of time and trouble.”
“We could not improve on that if we tried,” Stanley agreed
enthusiastically. “While I do the final tinkering on the machine you
can be gathering the things together. Bring them to our hangar, load
them at night, and we can hop away early the next morning.”
Somehow the news had spread that there was to be a trial flight on the
following day, and a huge crowd, composed mostly of Indians, gathered
on the outskirts of the field at daybreak. It was not until shortly
after noon, however, that everything was in readiness for the initial
attempt. The two donned their leather coats, helmets, and goggles, and
climbed into the cockpits. At a signal from Stanley the crew removed
the wooden blocks from under the wheels and swung the ship around into
the wind. Stanley gradually opened the throttle, and as the roar of
the engine increased in volume the machine gathered speed and raced
over the even ground. In a moment it had left the earth and was soaring
upward at an appreciable angle. The crowd of onlookers waved their hats
and burst into a wild cheer, and Ted, who was standing in the rear pit,
leaned over the rim and waved his hand toward the ground as they sped
into the distance.
Stanley carefully watched the braces, struts, and wings, but as there
was no unusual vibration, he tried a number of turns, banking gently,
dived and zoomed, and in other ways tested the craft. Its stability
and balance were to his entire satisfaction. Then they ascended to a
height of five thousand feet and performed a series of stunts that
even the birds would not dare attempt. They side-slipped, dived, and
spiralled, did wing-overs, and ended in a series of loops. After that
they descended to the field in a long tail-spin, levelling off just in
time to land easily and gracefully in front of their hangar.
The colonel was most enthusiastic and congratulated them heartily, but
the two lieutenants kept in the background and offered no comments.
“There are only a few wires to tighten a little,” Stanley informed the
commanding officer. “They are always liable to slacken somewhat during
the first flights. The fuselage is lined up perfectly. If the colonel
so desires, we shall be glad to make a long cross-country flight next
Sunday. That could serve as a final test, after which the ship would be
ready to go into commission for the regular work of training cadets.”
“Splendid!” the colonel replied. “Go anywhere you like. Give the
machine a most thorough trial. The instructors and pupils are waiting
impatiently for their turn.”
Two days later, as they were going over the ship for a final
inspection, Stanley suddenly noticed that the keys had been removed
from the pins that fastened the right upper wing to the body. With a
slight motion of his hand he indicated the fact to Ted.
“Now we shall find out who is responsible for that,” he said to Ted
between his teeth.
They had the ship rolled out on the line and started the engines. The
colonel and the two lieutenants were on the field as usual, watching
the operations.
“Perhaps the lieutenants would like a flight to-day?” Stanley suggested
pleasantly, approaching the trio. “With the colonel’s consent, and so
far as we are concerned, the ship is at your disposal.”
The two began to look uncomfortable, and one of them stammered an
excuse about not being prepared with the proper clothing. The colonel
promptly suggested that they might use the outfits of the Americans if
they desired, but upon this the other one pleaded illness.
“Well,” Stanley said, looking straight at the two, “we thought we might
go up for a few minutes, but I guess we had better not. If it is not
safe for you, it is not safe for us.”
The colonel understood that there was some difficulty, but said nothing
until the two instructors had gone. Then he questioned the Americans as
to the meaning of the affair. They showed him the pins with the missing
keys.
“But you have no evidence against any one!” he said slowly. “This is
most serious, but I cannot accuse any one of such an act without proof.”
“No, but in the future the hangars must be guarded day and night. No
one must be permitted to enter without a written pass from you.”
“That is a good idea. It shall be done. I shall immediately issue an
order to that effect.”
The damage was soon repaired and the ship rolled back into the hangar.
Ted spent the greater part of the next morning making purchases in
the city, and the packages were delivered to the field early in the
afternoon. They had been compelled to buy numerous things connected
with their work during the previous weeks, so the arrival of the boxes
caused no comment. Ted stored them in a corner of the hangar and
covered them with a tarpauling.
That night they carefully studied their map, on which the location
of the Hidden Valley had been marked as accurately as possible, as
they had done so many times before. And at daybreak on the following
morning Ted loaded the packages into the ship, while Stanley went for
a conference with the colonel. When the latter, too, arrived on the
field, the plane was on the line with the engine roaring.
Although the guards assured them that none had approached the hangar
during the night, the two spent considerable time in a minute
inspection of the machine. And when the sun was an hour high in the
heavens they left the ground, circled the field until they had reached
an altitude of several thousand feet, then headed straight to the north.
If their calculations were right, they should reach the valley in an
hour, unless they encountered a strong head-wind. Allowing another
hour for the return, there would be a leeway of a third hour, for the
fuel-supply, counting that contained in the emergency-tank overhead,
was ample for three hours.
From directly above, the mountain-peaks appeared flattened out exactly
like the plateaux and valleys, but they could be distinguished from the
latter by the patches of snow and fields of black rocks. A wind from
the south added greatly to their speed, so that the landscape beneath
them moved back at a rapid pace. To their right, and far, far below,
lay the sea of dark-green Amazonian jungle.
Here and there among the bleak mountain-peaks lay little green valleys
with square, blocklike dots scattered about singly and in groups. To
the casual observer they might have been mistaken for stones. But to
the trained eye they were clearly Indian huts, distinguishable from the
other objects by their regular outlines. And if Ted looked closely he
could make out minute specks moving toward the houses; they were the
Indians running to shelter, terrified, no doubt, by the roaring spectre
in the sky.
“Keep your eyes open wide,” Stanley shouted back to his companion
after he had throttled down the motor so that its roar did not drown
the sound of his voice. “Look for the yellow vapor and the ring of
volcanoes. The wall, too. What was that?”
A black form had passed them at great speed, its shadow blanketing one
side of the craft.
Ted looked back, knowing that it could not have been a cloud, for the
sky was clear.
“It’s a condor,” he called at the top of his voice, just as Stanley
opened the throttle. Even as he spoke the great bird was wheeling
gracefully and heading in their direction. Master of the desolate
mountain tops and of the air above them, the huge bird was evidently
investigating or challenging this newcomer into its realm.
Ted pounded the linen side of the fuselage frantically with his gloved
hand, and at the signal Stanley automatically pushed the control
forward, ever so slightly, and the ship went into a steep dive. It was
part of their old code, originated on the Western Front, and in the
emergency both remembered it instantly.
They were not a moment too soon. The great bird shot past above
them with a rush of wings audible above the slow throbbing of the
throttled-down motor.
Just as Stanley brought the plane to a level keel, the bird wheeled,
and again came toward them, from the front, but this time the pilot
saw it in time. He must avoid collision with the audacious creature,
for the impact of the heavy body against the struts of propeller would
be enough to shatter them and send them crashing to the ground. His
first impulse was to use the machine-gun in an attempt either to kill
the bird or to cause it to swerve; but a second thought seemed better.
He waited until the black form was a scant hundred yards away; then
he pulled hard on the control, and instantly the bird seemed to drop
into space below them. What had really happened was that the ship had
bounded upward in a steep zoom, passing high above the attacker, and
before the latter could turn, Stanley had resumed the level course and
opened wide the throttle. The ship started forward at such great speed
that the bird, swift of wing though it was, could not overtake them;
and they soon lost it in the distance, a black speck growing constantly
smaller in the unclouded sky.
After that they flew at a lower altitude, so as not to arouse the ire
of other condors that might be soaring at that dizzy height.
Ted was carefully scanning the ground, on which everything now appeared
with startling distinctness. Below was an Indian trail on which a
caravan of llamas had been wending its leisurely way. The leader of
the file stopped and evidently sounded an alarm of some kind, for
in a moment the panic-stricken animals were dashing down the trail,
leaving a cloud of dust in their wake and scattering their packs by the
wayside. After leaping a stone wall they disappeared into the doorway
of a hut. At the same time a number of Indians, wearing bright-colored
blankets, darted out of the rear doorway, routed from their abode by
the onrushing beasts, but no sooner had they gained the open than one
of the group discerned the strange monster above them, and back they
dashed into the hut.
Ted was watching the spot long after to see if any of the occupants of
the shelter would appear after they had passed, when the engine again
slowed down.
“That looks like the spot over there,” Stanley shouted, nodding toward
the landscape in front of them.
Ted looked in that direction and nodded assent. Far ahead, and to one
side, lay a circle of yellow vapor; it seemed to hug the earth in a
solid ring, while columns and whisps rose into the sky to a great
height. That could mean but one thing. It was the impenetrable barrier
of poisonous gases arising from the chain of volcanoes surrounding the
Hidden Valley. A quarter of an hour later they had crossed the margin
of the ring. There it was, directly beneath them--the long valley
with its winding river, Uti with the dismal lagoon glistening in the
sunlight, and the great wall that separated the two places showing
like a narrow gray ribbon. To the left was another valley with high,
steep walls of rock hemming it in on all sides, but there was no vapor
clinging to the rim of that enclosure.
Stanley shut down the power and they began a rapid and almost noiseless
descent in a series of graceful spirals. When down to five hundred feet
above the ground, he again opened the throttle and circled a few times,
while both craned their heads over the sides of the cockpits, looking
for a suitable place to land. In a moment they recognized the level
strip of beach on the border of the lake, the very spot, in fact, where
their canoe had been stranded several years before; another spiral,
then a long glide, and they had landed on the hard sand.
At last they were in the region of gold-filled caves, a mere stone’s
throw from the place where the vast treasure of the Incas had lain
untouched for so many centuries. The two scrambled out of their cramped
quarters and jumped to the ground. Then, dashing their helmets and
goggles aside, they started in a wild rush toward the cave.