TWO RUNAWAY BOYS!
A great camp-fire blazed in one of the numerous valleys which nestle in
the Andes to the east of Lake Titicaca. The three flying machines, the
_Ann_, the _Louise_ and the _Bertha_, lay just outside the circle of
illumination. It was the evening of the fourth day after the incidents
recorded in the last chapter.
The Flying Machine Boys had traveled at good speed, yet with frequent
rests, from the mountain cone above the Peruvian mines to the little
valley in which the machines now lay.
Jimmie and Carl, well wrapped in blankets, were lying with their feet
extended toward the blaze, while Glenn was broiling venison steak at one
corner of the great fire, and, also, as he frequently explained,
broiling his face to a lobster finish while he turned the steaks about
in order to get the exact finish.
The millionaire aviator and Sam sat some distance away discussing
prospects and plans for the next day. While they talked an Indian
accompanied by Ben came slowly out of the shadows at the eastern edge of
the valley and approached the fire.
“Have you discovered the Mystery of the Andes?” asked Havens with a
laugh as the two came up.
“We certainly have discovered the Mystery of the Andes!” cried Ben
excitedly. “But we haven’t discovered the mystery of the mystery!”
“Come again!” shouted Jimmie springing to his feet.
“You see,” Ben went on, “Toluca took me to a point on the cliff to the
south from which the ghost lights of the mysterious fortress can be
seen, but we don’t know any more about the origin of the lights than we
did before we saw them.”
“Then there really are lights?” asked Carl.
“There certainly are!” replied Ben.
“What kind of an old shop, is it?” asked Jimmie.
“It’s one of the old-time fortresses,” replied Ben. “It is built on a
steep mountainside and guards a pass between this valley and one beyond.
It looks as if it might have been a rather formidable fortress a few
hundred years ago, but now a shot from a modern gun would send the
battlements flying into the valley.”
“But why the lights?” demanded Jimmie.
“That’s the mystery!” Ben answered. “They’re ghost lights!”
“Up to within a few months,” Mr. Havens began, “this fortress has never
attracted much attention. It is said to be rather a large fortification,
and some of the apartments are said to extend under the cliff, in the
same manner as many of the gun rooms on Gibraltar extend into the
interior of that solid old rock.”
“More subterranean passages!” groaned Jimmie. “I never want to see or
hear of one again. Ever since that experience at the alleged temple they
will always smell of wild animals and powder smoke.”
“A few months ago,” the millionaire aviator continued, smiling
tolerantly at the boy, “ghostly lights began making their appearance in
the vicinity of the fort. American scientists who were in this part of
the country at that time made a careful investigation of the
demonstrations, and reported that the illuminations existed only in the
imaginations of the natives. And yet, it is certain that the scientists
were mistaken.”
“More bunk!” exclaimed Carl.
“At first,” Mr. Havens went on, “the natives kept religiously away from
the old fort, but now they seem to be willing to gather in its vicinity
and worship at the strange fires which glow from the ruined battlements.
It is strange combination, and that’s a fact.”
“How long have these lights been showing?” asked Sam.
“Perhaps six months,” was the reply.
The young man regarded his employer significantly.
“I apprehend,” he said, “that you know exactly what that means.”
“I think I do!” was the reply.
“Put us wise to it!” exclaimed Jimmie.
“Perhaps,” smiled the millionaire, “I would better satisfy myself as to
the truth of my theory before I say anything more about it.”
“All right,” replied the boy with the air of a much-abused person, “then
I’ll go back to my blanket and sleep for the rest of my three weeks!”
“If you do,” Glenn cut in, “you’ll miss one of these venison steaks.”
Jimmie was back on his feet in a minute.
“Lead me to it!” he cried.
The boys still declare that that was the most satisfying meal of which
they ever partook. The broiled steaks were excellent, and the tinned
goods which had been purchased at one of the small Peruvian mining towns
on the way down, were fresh and sweet.
As may be understood without extended description, the work of washing
the dishes and cleaning up after the meal was not long extended!
In an hour every member of the party except Toluca was sound asleep. The
Indian had been engaged on the recommendation of an acquaintance at one
of the towns on the line of the interior railroad, and was entirely
trustworthy. He now sat just outside the circle of light, gazing with
rapt attention in the direction of the fortress which for some time past
had been known as the Mystery of the Andes.
A couple of hours passed, and then Ben rolled over to where Jimmie lay
asleep, his feet toasting at the fire, his head almost entirely covered
by his blanket.
“Wake up, sleepy-head!” Ben whispered.
Jimmie stirred uneasily in his slumber and half opened his eyes.
“Go on away!” he whispered.
“But look here!” Ben insisted. “I’ve got something to tell you!”
Toluca arose and walked over to where the two boys were sitting.
“Look here!” Ben went on. “Here’s Toluca now, and I’ll leave it to him
if every word I say isn’t true. He can’t talk much United States, but he
can nod when I make a hit. Can’t you, Toluca?”
The Indian nodded and Ben went on:
“Between this valley,” the boy explained, “and the face of the mountain
against which the fort sticks like a porous plaster is another valley.
Through this second valley runs a ripping, roaring, foaming, mountain
stream which almost washes the face of the cliff against which the
fortress stands. This stream, you understand, is one of the original
defences, as it cuts off approach from the north.”
“I understand,” said Jimmie sleepily.
“Now, the only way to reach this alleged mystery of the Andes from this
direction seems to be to sail over this valley in one of the machines
and drop down on the cliff at the rear.”
“But is there a safe landing there?” asked the boy.
“Toluca says there is!”
“Has he been there?” asked Jimmie.
“Of course he has!” answered Ben. “He doesn’t believe in the Inca
superstitions about ghostly lights and all that.”
“Then why don’t we take one of the machines and go over there?” demanded
Jimmie. “That would be fun!”
“That’s just what I came to talk with you about?”
“I’m game for it!” the boy asserted.
“As a matter of fact,” Ben explained as the boys arose and softly
approached the _Louise_, “the only other known way of reaching the
fortress is by a long climb which occupies about two days. Of course,”
he went on, “the old fellows selected the most desirable position for
defence when they built the fort. That is,” he added, “unless we reach
it by the air route.”
“The air line,” giggled Jimmie, “is the line we’re patronizing
to-night.”
“Of course!” Ben answered. “All previous explorers, it seems, have
approached the place on foot, and by the winding ledges and paths
leading to it. Now, naturally, the people who are engineering the ghost
lights and all that sort of thing there see the fellows coming and get
the apparatus out of sight before the visitors arrive.”
“Does Mr. Havens know all about this?” asked Jimmie.
“You’re dense, my son!” whispered Ben. “We’ve come all this way to light
down on the fortress in the night-time without giving warning of our
approach. That’s why we came here in the flying machines.”
“He thinks Redfern is here?” asked Jimmie.
“He thinks this is a good place to look for him!” was the reply.
“Then we’ll beat him to it!” Jimmie chuckled.
Toluca seemed to understand what the boys were about to do and smiled
grimly as the machine lifted from the ground and whirled softly away. As
the _Louise_ left the valley, Mr. Havens and Sam turned lazily in their
blankets, doubtless disturbed by the sound of the motors, but, all being
quiet about the camp, soon composed themselves to slumber again.
“Now, we’ll have to go slowly!” Ben exclaimed as the machine lifted so
that the lights of the distant mystery came into view, “for the reason
that we mustn’t make too much noise. Besides,” he went on, “we’ve got to
switch off to the east, cut a wide circle around the crags, and come
down on the old fort from the south.”
“And when we get there?” asked Jimmie.
“Why,” replied Ben, “we’re going to land and sneak into the fort! That’s
what we’re going for!”
“I hope we won’t tumble into a lot of jaguars, and savages, and
half-breed Spaniards!” exclaimed Jimmie.
“Oh, we’re just going to look now,” Ben answered, “and when we find out
what’s going on there we’re coming back and let Mr. Havens do the rest.
We wouldn’t like to take all the glory away from him.”
Following this plan, the boys sent the machine softly away to the east,
flying without lights, and at as low altitude as possible, until they
were some distance away from the camp. Then they turned to the south.
In an hour the fortress showed to the north, or at least the summit
under which it lay did.
“There’s the landing-place just east of that cliff,” Ben exclaimed, as
he swung still lower down. “I’ll see if I can hit it.”
The _Louise_ took kindly to the landing, and in ten minutes more the
boys were moving cautiously in the direction of the old fort, now lying
dark and silent under the starlight. It seemed to Jimmie that his heart
was in his throat as the possible solution of the mystery of the Andes
drew near!