THE END OF THE LABYRINTH
But a disappointment awaited them in the morning. The craft that had
brought them this far was quite beyond repair. It would perhaps not
have been impossible to patch it up if they had had the necessary
tools, but, lacking them, the boat was a total wreck.
“What can we do?” said Bob, his tone showing his dismay. “Seems like we
are in a bad fix. ‘No boat, no can go!’ as the Chinaman says.”
Jerry, however, was not so pessimistic. “Oh, I’m not beaten yet. I
think I’ve got a scheme that’ll work, although it means we won’t be dry
again until we get out of the canyon.”
“What do you mean? Are we going to swim the rest of the way?”
“You’re not far off,” said Jerry, laughing. “But even if we’ve got to
swim we won’t have to carry all our junk. Have you thought what a
bully raft our air mattress will make?”
“Gee whiz, that’s some idea,” said Bob. “We can load our stuff on it
and let it float down stream, can’t we?”
“You bet! But it will be pretty rough going. We’ll have to nurse it
pretty carefully. A submarine rock could torpedo it in a minute. But
come on, let’s try it.”
They blew up the mattress to its fullest extent and launched it. Piling
on it the things they felt absolutely necessary to take with them, they
were overjoyed to find the improvised raft equal to the task. The rest
of the truck had to be abandoned.
“Well, might as well start, I reckon,” said Bob. “This is the first
time I’ve ever gone in for an all-day swim. We won’t really _need_ a
bath the rest of the summer after this.” Jerry laughed a reply.
It didn’t turn out to be so bad as they had imagined. Shortly after
they started the river grew smoother and shallower, so that wading
was quite possible. During the afternoon of the next day, with almost
startling suddenness they found themselves out of the canyon. It ended
almost as surprisingly as it had begun. A sudden bend through the high
cliffs and they were in the open country.
Bob turned to Jerry and shook his hand. “We’ve done it, old boy. We’ve
beaten the Labyrinth.”
In the midst of their mutual congratulations a hail came to them from
the bank. Surprised, they looked up to see a figure waving to them.
They pulled ashore and found a grizzled old man standing up beside a
camp fire.
“Did ye come through the gap?” was his greeting in a mild, unsurprised
tone.
The boys answered in the affirmative. The old man nodded his head.
“Pretty good, pretty good. You sho’ surprised me. Only ones what I’ve
seen come through before have been dead ones. Sit ’round and in a
minute I’ll have something to eat for ye.”
Jerry recognized the type at once. It was a desert rat, one of those
old men who, lured by the dream of gold, haunt the desert, usually
alone. Years pass over their heads in the search which never ends.
At last the gold mine that they will find some day becomes merely
the excuse not the aim of the unending pilgrimage. The desert, the
loneliness is claiming them. If they found a mine worth the developing,
probably they would sell it and blow in the proceeds and be off again
as soon as possible. They have been too long away from civilization for
anything to surprise them. The desert is mysterious, the loneliness
makes everything possible.
The old man’s meal was sour dough biscuits and a sort of soup made from
jerked beef and river water. But he offered it to them and served it
as if it were a banquet. To the tired, hungry boys it _was_ a banquet.
They had done tremendous deeds on a diet of canned goods and any change
was welcome.
The old man ventured no further curiosity in what they had done. They
had come through the Labyrinth, he had accepted the fact, and that was
all there was to it. He spoke very little and when the boys asked the
way to the nearest railroad, his answer was given in rather a relieved
tone. It was as if he would be glad to have the silence to himself
again.
To the boys’ great joy, they found they had come out of the canyon at a
point only twenty miles from the railroad. They determined to hike for
it the next day. Before they started the next morning, Bob had an idea.
“Let’s give the old fellow our air mattress. We won’t need it any more
and maybe he would like it.”
“Bully,” agreed Jerry and took it over to the old man.
They showed him how to blow it up and then let all the air out and
rolled it up into a small parcel. He was as delighted as a child with
a new toy and thanked them for it. At last they started out on their
hike, carrying with them only enough food for lunch, the transit and as
much water as possible. When they were about fifty feet from camp, the
old man called out after them.
“I forgot to ask what this here thing you give me might be for.”
“To sleep on.”
“Well, you’d better take it back, then,” he said. “I hain’t slept on
nothin’ but the old earth here for forty year and I reckon I won’t
sleep on nothin’ else until I sleep _in_ it. This here thing ain’t
goin’ to do me no good.”
The boys laughed and Jerry called back, “Well, give it to the burro to
sleep on then.”
With a last wave of the hand, the boys started on their long hike.
From the river the country had looked flat. But once faced in the
direction the old man had told them to go, they found the way was quite
hilly. Perhaps they had been so used during the past days in the canyon
to the walls towering straight up on each side of them that the gradual
rise did seem flat. But they soon realized it would be quite a climb.
Noon still found them ascending and they ate their lunch and hurried
on. It was sizzling. There were some trees, but these were few and far
between. Most of the footing was sandy and made hard walking. Owing to
these conditions it was not until after nightfall that they saw the
first sign of civilization. Bob was in the lead and was the first to
see a reflection on the horizon.
“I thought I saw a light ahead, Jerry,” he cried. “Way off there.”
“Heat lightning, I guess,” returned the other, but before the words
were out of his mouth the same phenomenon occurred and this time he saw
it.
“Take it all back, Bob; you’re right. I saw it too.”
“But what is it?”
“Reflection from the fire box of an engine on the smoke that passes
over. The reason it comes in flashes is that it only shows when the
fireman opens the door to pitch on another scoop of coal. Yes, there it
is again!” They plodded on, much encouraged.
Jerry had jollied and cheered up Bob during the long tramp, for Bob,
while more adapted to the water, found himself at a disadvantage beside
his new chum when it came to navigating the desert. When at last they
made the track, they were footsore and weary. Finishing their last
bit of water, the boys started to walk the ties in the direction they
thought the nearest station must be. But after a few steps Bob refused
to go farther.
“I don’t care what you do,” he announced to Jerry, “but I stop right
here, and unless you give me a shove off the track I probably will
sleep right between the rails. The morning will be plenty soon enough
for me to go on, hungry as I am.”
“I won’t argue with you,” said Jerry. “And I guess the sand will seem
just about as comfortable as any feather bed could, the way I feel. I’m
right with you.”
The intense desert sun, however, woke them early to the realization of
their weary muscles. Bob was up first and disturbed Jerry’s slumbers by
a sudden peal of laughter.
Drowsily Jerry demanded, “What’s so all-fired funny, you early bird?”
“Get up and look,” giggled Bob.
The other scrambled to his feet and, blinkingly, scanned the horizon.
Not more than a quarter of a mile away was a water tank and a few
houses! The night had been so dark and they had come to the railroad so
late that all the lights had been extinguished in the settlement. But
as far as they were concerned, the town might just as well have been
ten miles away instead of the few yards it was in reality.
“I guess it was a good one on us, all right,” Jerry had to admit.
“Come on and we’ll see if we can rustle up some breakfast. Also a wash
up. We must be two awful looking sights.”
They found something to eat and water to wash in and felt ten times
better.
No questions were asked them. Evidently they were taken for tramps who
had a little money.
They decided they might just as well find out if there was any news
from Whiskers before they made any move, so they telegraphed to the
Grand Canyon, asking that any telegram that had come be forwarded on to
them. Then they proceeded to loaf until the answer arrived.
“Gee, this is bully,” commented Bob, as he lay stretched out on the
porch of the general store, out of the glare of the sun. “I never
thought just resting could be such fun!”
Jerry grunted an assent, too lazy to return a remark.
Neither boy had the energy to lift a finger. They were dead tired and
the mere fact of doing nothing was infinitely enjoyable. They had a
whole day of this, for it was not until the following morning that an
answer came to their wire. It proved to be from the Boss and had been
sent from Washington.
“Be at Las Cruces on June 20.”
“We’ve just got time to make it,” said Jerry. “That was sent three days
ago and right now Mr. Whitney ought to be pulling out of Kansas City.
We’ll catch the local out and be there just before he arrives.”