PATH TO ADVENTURE
During the next few weeks, the entire Scout organization buzzed with the
news that Ken, Jack, Willie and War were to set off on a great
adventure.
Younger Scouts eyed them enviously. Belatedly, there was a rush by boys
over 14 to join the Rovers. Applications readily were accepted, but the
newcomers quickly learned that the trip to Peru was a closed expedition
except for those who had proven their ability to endure real hardships.
As for the fortunate four, they scarcely could believe their own good
luck. It seemed a miracle that they had been selected, that all expenses
would be paid, and that their parents had given consent.
Their enthusiasm boundless, the young Explorers spent hours at the
public library, reading about South America. Jack, in particular,
studied Spanish grammar, trying out phrases on his friends.
According to a carefully worked out plan, Captain Carter was scheduled
to sail without delay for Cuertos, an almost unknown dog-hole port on
the Peruvian coast.
The trip through the Canal would take many weeks, while the Rovers, by
clipper, would reach their destination speedily. Captain Carter’s
_Shark_ was expected to arrive at Cuertos well ahead of Mr. Livingston’s
party. A meeting date was set for the following month.
As preparations rapidly went forward for the sailing, the four Explorers
saw little of Captain Carter. Occasionally, they ran into him at Mr.
Livingston’s home, but always he shunned them. Though they tried to be
friendly, he would not respond.
“He won’t get over his grudge,” Willie remarked. “A nice way to start a
long trip!”
“It’s not our fault,” Jack returned. “We’ve done everything we can to
make amends. He distrusts us, and between you and me and the gatepost, I
feel the same about him!”
The Explorers consoled themselves with the thought that once their
equipment and stores had been delivered at Cuertos, they would be done
with Captain Carter. Few freighters, they were told, ever visited the
out-of-the-way port.
“Don’t underestimate Captain Carter,” Mr. Livingston advised the Rovers.
“He can be very useful to us if we win him over. He knows the ropes and
can put us in touch with the right people.”
“You’re not expecting trouble on this trip?” Jack asked quietly.
“It’s well to be prepared. Our expedition may end at Cuertos. If we
learn that Burton Monahan is dead and can establish it, that terminates
our mission. On the other hand, if we discover that he went into the old
Inca country, it will be our duty to trace him as far as we can. That’s
why we’re sending plenty of supplies ahead.”
“I sure wish we hadn’t lost that translation,” War said gloomily.
“Forget it,” the Scout leader advised. “It’s gone, and we may as well
stop worrying about it.”
Equipped with lists Mr. Livingston supplied, the Explorers packed
carefully for the trip. Nothing was left to chance. Informed that they
might expect extremes of weather in Peru, sweltering heat in the
lowlands and frigid temperatures if their journey took them high into
the mountains, they chose each item with great care.
Mr. Livingston personally inspected all luggage that was to go by boat.
Every unnecessary item was discarded.
Finally, the last box was labeled and sent to the dock for shipment. On
the day of sailing, the Rovers drove to the waterfront to see the
_Shark_ on her way. Mr. Livingston, having important duties elsewhere,
was unable to accompany the group.
The vessel proved to be a small, rather filthy-looking schooner, which
regularly carried cargo through the Panama Canal.
Bent upon exploring the vessel from stem to stern, the four Rovers
started up the gangplank. A sailor stopped them.
“Sorry,” he said curtly. “No visitors.”
“But we came to see our stuff loaded,” Willie replied. “Captain Carter
knows us. He won’t object.”
“There’s the Captain now!” cried War, spying the officer on deck. “Hi,
Captain! May we come aboard?”
“We sail in thirty minutes,” the Captain returned shortly. “You’d only
be in the way.”
War would have pressed the matter, but Jack gave him a quick nudge.
“Let it slide,” he advised. “No use getting the Captain’s goat again.
Come on, we can watch the loading from shore.”
Hiding their annoyance, the Explorers sought a patch of shade in the lee
of a large warehouse. Stevedores trundled boxes and barrels of cargo
aboard. Captain Carter remained on deck personally supervising the job.
The boxes marked for the Scout expedition were raised in a great net and
swung down into the hold. The stevedores then moved the overflow up the
gangplank.
In an ugly temper, Captain Carter berated the men for being slow. One
fellow, who carried an especially heavy load, stumbled on the uneven
planking. Either by accident or design, he permitted a box to slip from
his shoulder into the water.
“Stupid idiot!” Captain Carter shouted. “Brainless! Can’t you watch what
you’re doing?”
Jack and Ken instantly leaped to their feet. Seizing a grappling hook,
they tried to raise the sunken box from the shallow water.
“Lay off that!” Captain Carter shouted, even more furiously.
Startled by the violence of the outburst, Jack gazed up into the enraged
face of the Captain. In that instant, he fancied that the surly,
pouch-like face mirrored not only anger but fear. What reason might the
Captain have for not wanting the Explorers to help retrieve the lost
cargo?
“Ken and I were only trying to help,” he said quietly.
“When I want your assistance, I’ll tell you so!” the Captain growled.
“Aboard the _Shark_, I’m in command. Now get away from the gangplank!”
“Okay,” Jack muttered, eyes blazing. He’d learned in early Scouting days
that it nearly always paid to hold one’s tongue.
War, however, could not resist making a muttered comment.
“What was that?” Captain Carter bellowed at him.
“Oh, peddle your fish!” War exclaimed. “I’m glad we’re not passengers on
your old tub!”
“A sentiment shared, young man. When I see you in Peru, it will be soon
enough!”
“Just be sure you deliver our stuff safely!” War shouted back. “Don’t be
dumping any more of it!”
To break up the useless repartee, the other Explorers pulled War away
from the dock.
One and all, they smarted under the Captain’s rude treatment. He was
being well paid to transport the expedition supplies to Peru. Why then,
should he have taken such a dislike to them?
“It’s because of that parchment translation incident,” Willie declared
as the four stepped back to watch two sailors recover the sunken box.
“The old boy won’t forget or forgive.”
Later that afternoon, after the _Shark_ had sailed, Jack and Ken related
the unfortunate loading affair to Mr. Livingston.
“Captain Carter is a surly fellow, I’m afraid,” the Scout leader
commented. “Fortunately, we won’t run into him again until we hit Peru.
And we shouldn’t have too close an association after that.”
“I sure wish we were leaving tomorrow,” Jack declared with a grin.
“How’ll we wait?”
“The days will pass fast enough,” Mr. Livingston assured him.
He was right. Almost before the Explorers realized it, the long weeks
had slipped by.
On the night before the party was scheduled to board the clipper for
Peru, the Scout organization held a final meeting.
For the four Rovers, the occasion was a solemn, impressive one. Well
they knew that weeks, perhaps months, might elapse before they would
meet again in formal session. Even so, they had no inkling of the
exciting adventures that lay ahead or of the part that Captain Carter
was to play in their lives.
During the early part of the evening, movie slides were shown on Peru.
Jack, as crew leader, thanked the committee for the fine program
presented, and then, with regret, announced that it was time to end the
meeting by closing the log.
A hush fell upon the throng. War arose, and soberly closed the big book
in which were recorded minutes of the organization.
Never had the simple ceremony been more impressive than on this night.
On the table beside Jack was the Explorer’s Emblem—wings, anchor and
compass—symbolic of air, sea and land activities. In front of it were
two glowing candles. To the left stood the American flag, and on the
right, the unit banner.
Jack himself turned to extinguish the candles, symbolic of the ideals
lighting the way of all Explorers.
“This emblem is to remind us that we are part of a great organization,”
he said soberly. “An organization made up of thousands of fellows in
troop, crew and post everywhere.”
Normally, the ceremony would have ended there, but Jack went on. With
deep feeling, he added the words of the Scout oath:
“‘On my honor, I will do my best
To do my duty to God and my country and to obey the Scout Law;
To help other people at all times;
To keep myself physically strong, mentally awake and morally
straight.’”
The other Explorers joined in, speaking each word with sincerity. All
eyes were glued upon Jack, Ken, Willie and Warwick.
At that impressive moment, knowing that on the morrow they would be
speeding far from America, the four felt their responsibility keenly.
Hadn’t they been singled out for an important mission? They must try
hard to make Mr. Livingston and the other Scouts proud of them! Come
what would, they dared not fail or falter.