THE SAVAGES MAKE MORE TROUBLE.
“Pedro said the savages wouldn’t dare enter the temple!” declared Jimmie
as he drew back.
Without stopping to comment on the situation, Carl called out:
“Drop, Sam, drop!”
The young man whirled about, saw the opening in the rear wall, saw the
brown barrels of the automatics, and instantly dropped to the floor. The
Indians advanced no farther, for in less time than it takes to say the
words a rain of bullets struck into their ranks. Half a dozen fell to
the floor and the others retreated, sneaking back in a minute, however,
to remove the bodies of their dead and wounded companions.
The boys did not fire while this duty was being performed.
In a minute from the time of the opening of the stone panel in the wall
there was not a savage in sight. Only for the smears of blood on the
white marble floor, and on the steps outside, no one would have imagined
that so great a tragedy had been enacted there only a few moments
before. Sam rose slowly to his feet and stood by the boys as they
crawled out of the narrow opening just above the basin of the fountain.
“I’m glad to see you, kids,” he said, in a matter-of-fact tone, although
his face was white to the lips. “You came just in time!”
“We usually do arrive on schedule,” Jimmie grinned, trying to make as
little as possible of the rescue.
“You did this time at any rate!” replied Sam. “But, look here,” he went
on, glancing at the automatics in their hands, “I thought the ammunition
was all used up in the den of lions.”
“We got some more!” laughed Carl.
“More—where?”
“At the _Ann_!”
Sam leaned back against the wall, a picture of amazement.
“You haven’t been out to the _Ann_ have you?” he asked.
For reply Jimmie drew a great package of sandwiches and another of
cartridges out of the opening in the wall.
“We haven’t, eh?” he laughed.
“That certainly looks like it!” declared Sam.
The boys briefly related the story of their visit to the aeroplane while
Sam busied himself with the sandwiches, and then they loaded the three
automatics and distributed the remaining clips about their persons.
“And now what?” asked Carl, after the completion of the recital.
“Are we going to take the _Ann_ and slip away from these worshipers of
the Sun?” asked Jimmie. “We can do it all right!”
“I don’t know about that,” argued Sam. “You drove them away from the
temple, and the chances are that they will return to the forest and will
remain there until they get the courage to make another attack on us.”
“It won’t take long to go and find out whether they are in the forest or
not!” Carl declared.
“Perhaps,” Sam suggested, “we’d better wait here for the others to come
up. They ought to be here to-night.”
“If it’s a sure thing that we can let them know where we are,” Carl
agreed, “that might be all right.”
“What’s the matter with the red and blue lights?” asked Jimmie.
“By the way,” Carl inquired looking about the place, “where is Pedro?”
“He took to his heels when the savages made the rush.”
“Which way did he go?” asked Jimmie.
“I think he went in the direction of that little menagerie you boys
found last night!” replied Sam.
“Then I’ll bet he knows where the tunnel is!” Carl shouted, dashing
away. “I’ll bet he’s lit out for the purpose of bringing a lot of his
conspirators in here to do us up!”
Jimmie followed his chum, and the two searched the entire system of
tunnels known to them without discovering any trace of the missing man.
“That’s a nice thing!” Jimmie declared. “We probably passed him
somewhere on our way back to the temple. By this time he’s off over the
hills, making signals for some one to come and help put us to the bad.”
“I’m afraid you’re right!” replied Sam.
The boys ate their sandwiches and discussed plans and prospects,
listening in the meantime for indications of the two missing men.
Several times they thought they heard soft footsteps in the apartments
opening from the corridor, but in each case investigation revealed
nothing.
It was a long afternoon, but finally the sun disappeared over the ridge
to the west of the little lake and the boys began considering the
advisability of making ready to signal to the _Louise_ and _Bertha_.
“They will surely be here?” said Carl hopefully.
“I am certain of it!” answered Sam.
“Then we’d better be getting something on top of the temple to make a
light,” advised Jimmie. “If I had Miguel by the neck, he’d bring out his
red and blue lights before he took another breath!” he added.
“Perhaps we can find the lights,” suggested Sam.
This idea being very much to the point, the boys scattered themselves
over the three apartments and searched diligently for the lamps or
candles which had been used by Miguel on the previous night.
“Nothing doing!” Jimmie declared, returning to the corridor.
“Nothing doing!” echoed Carl, coming in from the other way.
Sam joined the group in a moment looking very much discouraged.
“Boys,” he said, “I’ve been broke in nearly all the large cities on both
Western continents. I’ve been kicked out of lodging houses, and I’ve
walked hundreds of miles with broken shoes and little to eat, but of all
the everlasting, consarned, ridiculous, propositions I ever butted up
against, this is the worst!”
The boys chuckled softly but made no reply.
“We know well enough,” he went on, “that there are rockets, or lamps, or
torches, or candles, enough hidden about this place to signal all the
transcontinental trains in the world but we can’t find enough of them to
flag a hand-car on an uphill grade!”
“What’s the matter with the searchlights?” asked Jimmie.
“Not sufficiently strong!”
Without any explanation, Jimmie darted away from the group and began a
tour of the temple. First he walked along the walls of the corridor then
darted to the other room, then out on the steps in front.
“His trouble has turned his head!” jeered Carl.
“Look here, you fellows!” Jimmie answered darting back into the temple.
“There’s a great white rock on the cliff back of the temple. It looks
like one of these memorial stones aldermen put their names on when they
build a city hall. All we have to do to signal the aeroplanes is to put
red caps over our searchlights and turn them on that cliff. They will
make a circle of fire there that will look like the round, red face of a
harvest moon.”
“That’s right!” agreed Carl.
“A very good idea!” Sam added.
“I’ve been trying to find a way to get up on the roof,” Jimmie
continued, “but can’t find one. You see,” he went on, “we can operate
our searchlights better from the top of the temple.”
“We’ll have to find a way to get up there!” Sam insisted.
“Unless we can make the illumination on the cliff through the hole in
the roof,” Jimmie proposed.
“And that’s another good proposition!” Sam agreed.
“And so,” laughed Carl, “the stage is set and the actors are in the
wings, and I’m going to crawl into one of the bunks in the west room and
go to sleep.”
“You go, too, Jimmie,” Sam advised. “I’ll wake you up if anything
happens. I can get my rest later on.”
The boys were not slow in accepting the invitation, and in a very short
time were sound asleep. It would be time for the _Bertha_ and _Louise_
to show directly, and so Sam placed the red caps over the lamps of two
of the electrics and sat where he could throw the rays through the break
in the roof. Curious to know if the result was exactly as he
anticipated, he finally propped one of the lights in position on the
floor and went out to the entrance to look up at the rock.
As he stepped out on the smooth slab of marble in front of the entrance
something whizzed within an inch of his head and dropped with a crash on
the stones below. Without stopping to investigate the young man dodged
into the temple again and looked out.
“Now, I wonder,” he thought, as he lifted the electric so that its red
light struck the smooth face of the rock above more directly, “whether
that kind remembrance was from our esteemed friends Pedro and Miguel, or
whether it came from the Indians.”
He listened intently for a moment and presently heard the sound of
shuffling feet from above. It was apparent that the remainder of the
evening was not to be as peaceful and quiet as he had anticipated.
Realizing that the hostile person or persons on the roof might in a
moment begin dropping their rocks down to the floor of the corridor, he
passed hastily into the west chamber and stood by the doorway looking
out.
This interference, he understood, would effectually prevent any
illumination of the white rock calculated to serve as a signal to Mr.
Havens and the boys. Some other means of attracting their attention must
be devised. The corridor lay dim in the faint light of the stars which
came through the break in the roof, and he threw the light of his
electric up and down the stone floor in order to make sure that the
enemy was not actually creeping into the temple from the entrance.
While he stood flashing the light about he almost uttered an exclamation
of fright as a grating sound in the vicinity of the fountain came to his
ears. He cast his light in that direction and saw the stone which had
been replaced by the boys retreating slowly into the wall.
Then a dusky face looked out of the opening, and, without considering
the ultimate consequences of his act, he fired full at the threatening
eyes which were searching the interior. There was a groan, a fall, and
the stone moved back to its former position.
He turned to awaken Jimmie and Carl but the sound of the shot had
already accomplished that, and the boys were standing in the middle of
the floor with automatics in their hands.
“What’s coming off?” asked Jimmie.
“Was that thunder?” demanded Carl.
“Thunder don’t smell like that,” suggested Jimmie, sniffing at the
powder smoke. “I guess Sam has been having company.”
“Right you are,” said Sam, doing his best to keep the note of
apprehension out of his voice. “Our friends are now occupying the tunnel
you told me about. At least one of them was, not long ago.”
“Now, see here,” Jimmie broke in, “I’m getting tired of this
hide-and-seek business around this blooming old ruin. We came out to
sail in the air, and not crawl like snakes through underground
passages.”
“What’s the answer?” asked Carl.
“According to Sam’s story,” Jimmie went on, “we won’t be able to signal
our friends with our red lights to-night. In that case, they’re likely
to fly by, on their way south, without discovering our whereabouts.”
“And so you want to go back to the machine, eh?” Sam questioned.
“That’s the idea,” answered Jimmie. “I want to get up into God’s free
air again, where I can see the stars, and the snow caps on the
mountains! I want to build a roaring old fire on some shelf of rock and
build up a stew big enough for a regiment of state troops! Then I want
to roll up in a blanket and sleep for about a week.”
“That’s me, too!” declared Carl.
“It may not be possible to get to the machine,” suggested Sam.
“I’ll let you know in about five minutes!” exclaimed Jimmie darting
recklessly across the corridor and into the chamber which had by mutual
consent been named the den of lions.
Sam called to him to return but the boy paid no heed to the warning.
“Come on!” Carl urged the next moment. “We’ve got to go with him.”
Sam seized a package of sandwiches which lay on the roughly constructed
table and darted with the boy across the corridor, through the east
chamber, into the subterranean one, and passed into the tunnel, the
entrance to which, it will be remembered, had been left open.
Some distance down in the darkness, probably where the passage swung
away to the north, they saw a glimmer of light. Directly they heard
Jimmie’s voice calling softly through the odorous darkness.
“Come on!” he whispered. “We may as well get out to the woods and see
what’s doing there.”
The two half-walked, half-stumbled, down the slippery incline and joined
Jimmie at the bottom.
“Now we want to look out,” the boy said as they came to the angle which
faced the west. “There may be some of those rude persons in the tunnel
ahead of us.”
Not caring to proceed in the darkness, they kept their lights burning as
they advanced. When they came to the cross passage which led to the rear
of the corridor they listened for an instant and thought they detected a
low murmur of voices in the distance.
“Let’s investigate!” suggested Carl.
“Investigate nothing!” replied Jimmie. “Let’s move for the machine and
the level of the stars. If the savages are there, we’ll chase ’em out.”
But the savages were not there. When the three came to the curtain of
vines which concealed the entrance to the passage, the forest seemed as
still as it had been on the day of creation.
They moved out of the tangle and crept forward to the aeroplane, their
lights now out entirely, and their automatics ready for use. They were
soon at the side of the machine.
After as good an examination as could possibly be made in the
semi-darkness, Sam declared that nothing had been molested, and that the
_Ann_ was, apparently, in as good condition for flight as it had been at
the moment of landing.
“Why didn’t we do this in the afternoon, while the niggers were out of
sight?” asked Carl in disgust.
“Sam said we couldn’t!” grinned Jimmie.
“Anyhow,” Sam declared, “we’re going to see right now whether we can or
not. We’ll have to push the old bird out into a clear place first,
though!”
Here the talk was interrupted by a chorus of savage shouts.