A PERILOUS ADVENTURE
The party reached the camp without further adventure, and Mr. Hartley was
put under the care of the camp physician. The latter pronounced him all
right with the exception of the shock, and the only prescription he gave
was "two or three days of thorough rest."
"Well, that's easy medicine to take," said Hartley, with a faint smile,
when he heard this verdict, "but I hope you lads will come and visit me
and help me kill time. I'm used to a pretty strenuous life, and time
will hang awfully heavy on my hands if you don't. Besides, I want to
have a chance to express my appreciation of your brave conduct better
than I have been able to so far."
"Well, we'll come to see you, all right, with pleasure," said Bert, "only
first we want to make one condition."
"And what is that?" inquired the engineer.
"Why, that you'll cut out saying anything about our 'brave conduct,'"
said Bert. "We're naturally modest, you see," he added jokingly, "and
anything like that bothers us."
"Well, all right. I suppose in that case I'll have to agree to your
condition," assented the other, reluctantly, "but you can't keep me from
thinking it, anyway."
"All right, then, that's agreed, and we'll let it go at that," said Bert,
with a smile, "we'll be up to see you as soon as the doctor will let us,
won't we, fellows?" turning to Dick and Tom.
Of course they were willing, so it was agreed that they should visit the
engineer's tent, the next day but one. This matter settled, the three
comrades took a cordial leave of Mr. Hartley, and made their way back to
their own quarters. Until now they had not realized how tired they were,
but before they had gotten to their room they all felt as though they
could scarcely keep awake.
They managed to defer their sleep long enough to eat a hearty supper,
however, but then "made a dash for the hay," as Tom expressed it.
It did not take them long to get to sleep that night, and they were too
tired even to discuss the exciting happenings of this eventful day.
With the characteristic recuperative power of youth, however, they were
up bright and early the next day, and all three expressed themselves as
feeling "as fit as a fiddle."
"But just the same," remarked Dick, "I feel like loafing around to-day
and taking things easy. Let's go up to the stone crushing works and
watch them. That's my idea of the most restful thing in the world--to
watch somebody else working."
"It certainly is," agreed Bert, with a laugh, "but I'm afraid the
'somebody else' might not appreciate your philosophy."
"Oh, that's all right," said Dick. "Some time when I'm working, the
other fellow is welcome to watch me, and then he'll be getting his rest."
"Huh," remarked Tom. "I'd hate to have to wait for my rest until you
started laboring. I'm afraid I'd surely die from overwork before that
happened."
"Oh, don't worry about your dying from overwork," retorted Dick, "that's
my idea of the last thing in the world to be afraid of. What do you
think, Bert?"
"Oh, I don't imagine any of us will get heart failure very soon from that
cause," laughed Bert, "but here we are at the workings already, so let's
proceed to take your 'rest cure,' Dick."
It seems hardly probable, however, that any invalid, suffering from
"nerves" or some kindred disorder, would have selected this as an ideal
place to recuperate. Everywhere the greatest activity was apparent, and
the combined din of the different machines was a thing to be remembered.
A steam shovel rattled and puffed, cement mixers crashed, and compressed
air drills hammered perseveringly at the living rock. Every once in a
while, work would cease at some point, and the laborers would stand
around expectantly.
Then there would come a muffled roar from some exploded blast, and a
cloud of rocks, dirt, and smoke would shoot upwards. Then the men would
fall to again with renewed energy, the giant steam shovel would be set to
work, and a few more yards of rock would be carried away.
Thus the work proceeded without intermission, and the boys, although now
somewhat used to the sights, looked on fascinated. There was something
very wonderful and awe-inspiring about the whole process that held the
boys spellbound.
"Just think of it," said Bert, after a long silence. "Imagine us
standing maybe half a mile away from this canal and seeing some big ocean
liner going through it. Why, it will look as though the ship were going
over the solid ground."
"That's what it will, all right," replied Dick. "It's certainly the
biggest thing ever."
"I should think it was," said Tom. "I can't think of anything else that
even compares with it.".
"No, neither can I," said Bert, thoughtfully. "That is, no practicable
project. Of course wild schemes come up now and then to change the
earth's course, or some other crazy idea like that. I remember reading
of a plan like that somewhere. It seems its originator, whoever he was,
planned to build a great ring of iron all around the earth at the
equator, and then charge it with electricity. He figures that the
immense magnetic attraction generated in that way would change the
earth's course by acting on neighboring planets. I haven't much
confidence in the plan, though," and, as Bert said this, he looked at
Tom, slyly.
"Confidence!" exclaimed Tom, with a contemptuous snort. "Why, of all the
fool schemes I ever heard of that's the limit. I shouldn't think you'd
even----" but here he caught the twinkle in Bert's eye, and stopped
abruptly.
"Ha, Ha!" roared Dick, "my, but you had Tom going that time, Bert, he
thought you were in earnest about that."
"Well, why shouldn't I think he was in earnest?" growled Tom. "He's
pretty near foolish enough even to believe in a demented idea like that.
I wouldn't have been surprised if he had."
"Well, never mind, old timer," said Bert, "I put one over on you that
time, though, I guess. You'll have to admit it."
"Yes, I guess you did," said Tom, "but I'll get even for that sometime.
Don't be surprised if you find a little rat poison in your soup some day.
That's the only punishment I can think of that would fit the crime."
"Oh, that's all right," laughed Bert. "If it's like most rat poisons,
all it will do is to make me fat and strong. I remember a friend of mine
whose father was a farmer. He was telling me how his father scattered
poison all around his barn in the hope of killing off a few of the pests,
but he said that all the effect it seemed to have was to make them
hungry, so that they ate more grain and feed than before. Maybe that's
the way it will work with me, only the comparison isn't very flattering."
"It isn't, for a fact," said Dick, "but I hope in this case Tom isn't as
blood thirsty as he sounds."
"Well, I might be persuaded to postpone the execution," admitted Tom,
with a grin. "I'm always open to an offer, and a little matter of a five
dollar bill or so would buy me off."
"All right, consider yourself paid," said Bert. "I'd rather owe it to
you all my life than cheat you out of it."
"Much obliged, I'm sure," replied Tom, sarcastically. "As soon as I get
the five spot I'll blow you both to a swell dinner."
"Good night," exclaimed Dick. "I hope I don't have to go hungry until
that happens. I have a feeling that I'd lose considerable weight."
"You'll have a _long_ wait, that's certain," replied Tom, and prepared to
take to his heels.
The only indication Bert and Dick gave that they heard this atrocious pun
was a couple of hollow groans and melancholy head shakes.
"Poor old Tom," mourned Dick at length, "poor old Tom. I've feared for
some time he was going off his head and now I know it. That's proof
beyond question."
"Don't let it turn your hair gray," retorted Tom. "As long as I don't
worry about my condition you don't need to. But I'll promise to be good
and not do it again, anyway. That was a pretty rotten joke, I'll have to
admit."
"That's all right," said Bert, "we forgive you. I'm glad to see that you
realize what a crime it was."
After this they fell to discussing the events of the day before, and
became so interested that they could hardly believe it was lunch time,
when the whistles blew and the men threw down their tools and prepared to
take a well earned rest for a brief hour. "Well," said Bert, glancing at
his watch, "I guess it's about time we hit the trail toward the nearest
eats emporium. Now that its called to my attention, I begin to realize
that I'm hungry."
The others also discovered symptoms of a healthy appetite, so without
further loss of time they hurried back to their 'base of supplies' as Tom
put it.
"If we're as hungry as this without having done much all the morning,
what would we be if we had been working since eight o'clock?" queried
Dick, and the others were unable to give him a satisfactory answer.
"I guess they'd have to stop work, owing to a shortage in the food
supply," said Bert, and his companions laughingly agreed with him.
They made a hearty lunch, and then returned to the scene of the
excavations. There were a thousand interesting things to watch, and the
afternoon passed very quickly. Their attention was specially attracted
by one giant steam shovel that rattled and puffed like some untiring
monster. The engineer guiding it directed its every motion with a touch
of one of the levers close to his hand, and it seemed as though the
machine were a living creature and he its brain. The great scoop would
drop with a roar of chains passing through pulleys, and then, as the main
engine began to puff, would rise slowly but with irresistible force..
Then a pair of auxiliary cylinders mounted on the beam of the shovel
would begin to work, and the big scoop with its load of dirt and rocks
would swing around and stop over one of the dirt cars. The engineer's
assistant would pull a rope attached to the scoop, a catch would be
released, and the bottom of the scoop would swing open, letting the load
fall into the waiting car. This process would be repeated again and
again, and then, when the shovel had scooped up all the dirt around it,
it would be moved forward a few feet, under its own power, to a new base
of operations.
It seemed that its power was almost limitless, but at last there came a
time when the boys thought it would meet an insurmountable obstacle.
Close to where they sat, a big stump projected from the ground. Part of
its gnarled and twisted roots was exposed, but a good deal of it was
firmly imbedded in the earth. The steam shovel had worked its way along,
until now it had reached a spot directly in front of this stump. The
boys thought that some laborers would be sent to uproot it, so that the
shovel could proceed, but there was no sign of this being done.
"Say!" exclaimed Dick. "I'll bet any money they mean to uproot that
stump with the shovel, but I don't believe it can be done. Why, it would
take a charge of dynamite to get that up."
"It certainly looks pretty solid," said Bert, "but they must know what
they're doing. We won't have to wait long, though, to find out. Look!
they're bringing the scoop up under it now!"
The three comrades watched intently as the big scoop dug in under the
stump. As it came fairly up against the obstacle it slowed and almost
stopped, and the boys caught their breaths. But the engineer opened the
throttle a trifle more, and the stump moved! Slowly it gave way, one
root after another snapping off with a loud report, and at last was
lifted clear of the ground.
"Well, what do you know about that!" exclaimed Tom. "I thought the old
steam shovel was up against it for fair, that time."
"So did I," said Bert, "but it fooled us good and proper."
"It's such things as that steam shovel that make the canal possible,"
said Dick, "just imagine the time it would take to dig that stuff out by
the old method of shoveling. Why, it would take so long that we'd never
live to see it finished."
"Yes, I guess you're right," said Bert, "and look at those compressed air
drills working over there. Think how long it would take to bore out
those holes by the old method of hammering a drill into the rock.
There's no doubt, that, as you say, modern machinery is the only thing
responsible for this work. It's a wonderful thing, any way you look at
it."
It was indeed a subject admitting of much speculation, and the boys never
tired of talking about it. In this way the afternoon passed very
quickly, and when work was stopped they returned to their quarters.
On the way back, Bert said, "We might as well make arrangements now as
later, fellows, for going to see Mr. Hartley. You know we promised to
call on him to-morrow. What time shall we get there?"
"Oh, I should think right after lunch would be about the best time, don't
you?" said Dick, and as there seemed to be no objection to this plan,
they adopted it unanimously.
They arose early the next morning, and had ample time to take a long walk
before breakfast. "Not that it's at all necessary," remarked Bert, "I
don't very well see how any of us could have much better appetites than
we have already."
"Yes, but if we didn't get all the exercise that we do, the appetites
might not last very long," replied Bert.
They did not prolong their ramble long enough to interfere with
breakfast, and got back to their quarters just in the nick of time.
"Another ten minutes," exclaimed Tom, "and we would have missed some of
the eats. We certainly do have close escapes from disaster at times."
"It would certainly have been an awful calamity," grinned Bert, "but I
think we must have some sixth sense that leads us back here in time for
meals. I don't remember that we have ever been late to one yet."
"No, and we're not going to be, if I can help it," said Dick, and they
all fell to in earnest.
Breakfast over, they selected a level spot not far from their quarters
and had a "catch." Bert found his arm somewhat rusty, as he had not done
any pitching to speak of for quite a while, but soon limbered up, and
began "shooting them over" in his old time form. The morning passed
quickly in the pursuit of this and other athletic exercises, and after a
light luncheon the three comrades set out to visit Mr. Hartley in
accordance with the plan they had formed the day before.
It was not a long walk to the engineer's tent, and they made short work
of it. Needless to say, Mr. Hartley was more than glad to see them, and
expressed himself cordially.
"Sit down, sit down!" he said heartily, after he had shaken hands with
them. "I've been looking forward to this visit with great pleasure. I'm
used to a pretty active life, and I hate to be laid up even for a day.
The doctor tells me I've got to have a complete rest for a few days,
though, and I suppose he knows best."
"Well, the doctor isn't always right in these cases," said Bert, with a
smile, "although he probably is in this. I remember a good joke I heard
about that once."
"Go ahead and tell it to us," urged Mr. Hartley.
"Oh, it's about an Irishman, Mike we'll call him, who had been sick for a
long time. At last the day came, when, to all appearances, he had
finally given up the ghost, and the family physician was as called in
more as a matter of form than anything else. He made the customary
tests, and at last pronounced poor Mike dead. But just then Mike
suddenly sat up in bed. 'You're a liar, docther!' he said. 'Oi'm not dead
at all, at all.' But at this point his wife stepped up. 'There, there,
Mike,' she said, soothingly, 'lie down again. The `doctor knows best.'"
There was a roar at this.
"Ha, ha!" laughed Mr. Hartley, "that's a pretty good one. That man must
have held a large life insurance policy, I should say, judging by his
wife's conduct."
"Very likely," grinned Bert. "But I can't vouch for that."
Mr. Hartley then related one or two of his pet stories, and soon they
were all on the best of terms. After a while the conversation drifted
around to local topics, and the boys were much interested in Mr.
Hartley's description of places and happenings in the country bordering
the "big ditch."
"Yes, there are more curious and unheard of places in this little strip
of country than in any other place I know of, comparable to it in size,"
he said. "Why, if a quarter of the stories the natives tell are true, it
is a veritable wonderland. And I think some of them are true. With my
own eyes I have seen some of the things they talk about."
"Tell us of some of them, won't you?" requested Bert, and the engineer
seemed nothing loath.
"There is one experience in particular that comes to my mind," he said,
"that I have always meant to follow up at the first opportunity. It was
while quite a party of us were out hunting, with three of the natives as
guides. It was along toward the beginning of operations on the canal,
and we were held up by a delay in delivering some of the machinery, so
had plenty of time on our hands. Well, as I say, we started out bright
and early one morning, led by the three guides, who had brought a strange
story into camp. They told us of a ruined city they had discovered in
the heart of the jungle. According to them, this old town covered miles
of territory, and was presided over by some demon who claimed the lives
of all who penetrated within its boundaries. And we were led to give
some credence to their story by the fact that while they agreed to guide
us to the city, they expressly stipulated that we should not require them
to guide us further than its boundaries. They would stay outside, they
said, and take the news of our death back to camp. They seemed to have
no doubt that the demon would 'get us,' and you may be sure our
curiosity was greatly excited.
"I and four others of the corps of construction engineers resolved to run
this mysterious devil to the ground, and so, as soon as we could make the
necessary arrangements, started out. We soon entered the jungle, and
made steady progress. As far as we could judge we went almost due south.
We traveled with hardly a stop other than long enough to eat, that first
day, and only stopped when darkness made further progress impossible.
"We were up bright and early the next morning, and about noon caught our
first glimpse of the ruined city. Way down a clearing in the jungle, we
could see tall white pillars, many of them partly hidden by creeping
vines.
"We all broke into a run, and in an hour or so were on the outskirts of
the old city. And believe me, my lads, at one time that had been a city
with a capital C! It had evidently been laid out in well ordered streets
and squares, and everywhere houses were bordered by the remains of what
had been great temples and buildings. Most of them were on the ground,
mere heaps of ruins, but a few were still standing, at least in part, and
we could get a faint idea of what the old city must have been in those
far off days of its prime. At present, though, it seemed to be the abode
only of wild things.
"We gazed in wonder at this sight for some time, and then held a pow-wow.
We had a long discussion as to whether we should start exploring at
once, or wait till the next morning.
"We finally decided on the latter plan, as, in spite of our blastings
about wanting to shake hands with the presiding devil, we really had no
great hankering to meet him after dark. Of course, we none of us
believed in that 'devil' business, but still we had no doubt that some
secret menace hung over the old city. The guides were positive on this
point, and as they had been right so far, we were inclined to give their
opinions some consideration."
Here Mr. Hartley paused as though to gather his thoughts, and the three
boys, who had been listening intently to his narrative, drew a deep
breath.
"My!" exclaimed Tom, "make out we wouldn't like to have been with you
then."
"Yes, I daresay you would," said Mr. Hartley, with a smile, as he noted
the eager longing in the eyes of his listeners. "I think it would have
been an adventure after your own heart. But wait till you hear the rest,
and you may be glad you were not along."
"I doubt it," said Bert, "but go on with the story, if you please, Mr.
Hartley."