With the coming of the first warm weather, delightful and interesting
though their stay at the monastery had proven to be, the boys were eager
to get under way upon the last stage of their hunt for the Enchanted
City. Don Ernesto and Mr. Hampton, though less enthusiastic on the
surface, were no whit less desirous to be moving on than the boys.
Father Felipe, reluctant to part with them, for they had enlivened the
placid hours of life in the lonely monastery immeasurably, nevertheless
saw that it would be useless any longer to interpose objections to their
departure.
"Good weather has arrived," he said, at length, one balmy day. "I know
the mountains. There will be no more snow or cold winds. Rain, yes. For
on this western slope of the Andes we always have showers and
thunderstorms. But snow, no. Spring is definitely here.
"I wish I could dissuade you, my friend," he said to Don Ernesto, in a
graver tone than was customary for the jolly Abbot to employ. "I wish,
indeed, you could be persuaded to turn aside from this foolish
adventure. I have a feeling that grave danger will come to you. My
spirits seem depressed."
"Ah, Father Felipe, you have not dined well today," said Don Ernesto, in
a sympathetic tone belied by his dancing eyes. "A trace of indigestion,
maybe. I, too, often feel depressed for like cause."
"Nay," said Father Felipe, indignantly. "A little fish, coffee--what is
there in this to give me indigestion? But you must joke, you crazy man,
eager to run up and down mountains and poke your nose into places where
white men have never trod. There will be trouble, I tell you, trouble."
And the good Abbot sighed like a miniature earthquake.
Brother Gregorio, also, was reluctant to see the party set out. The
boys, all four of them, had endeared themselves to him. Especially was
he fond of Frank, in whose quick, responsive mind and sensitive spirit
he seemed to sense a kindred strain.
The boys found him at the power plant, pottering around, when they told
him of their imminent departure. His face fell, and for a time he could
find no words to utter. He had known, of course, that their stay would
not be forever. But so long had it lasted during the winter months that
it had seemed to him as if matters would continue in _statu quo_ or
without change for an indefinite period. Now to be told that they were
going to leave within the week was a blow.
At length he walked away from the group, and stood on the brink of the
pool into which cascaded the water from the falls, his hands behind him,
his back to the group.
"He takes it hard," said Jack. "Frank, he likes you best of all. We'll
leave you here with him."
Frank nodded.
"I guess that's a good idea," he said soberly. "Brother Gregorio is a
fine fellow, and we understand each other."
As the others departed, they looked back and saw Frank go up to the monk
and place an arm over his shoulders. They stood thus for a long time, no
words interchanged.
When it came to the point of packing for the journey, there was much
that could not be taken along. Brother Gregorio, indeed, would have
loaded each man like a pack mule with his gifts of this, that and the
other--of clothing, boots, ponchos, prayer books and what not, of
medicine cases and packages of herbs and simple remedies. Nor were
Father Felipe or the many other monks to whom the various members of the
party had endeared themselves, the less behindhand in their offerings.
"We can't take all this stuff," said Jack, in comical dismay, as he
stood in their common sitting room, surrounded by bundles, boxes, heaps
and bales. "What'll we do with it? Every single thing that I take up, I
say to myself, 'Well, this will be absolutely useless, and just in our
way. But if we don't take it, we shall break Brother Gregorio's heart or
Father Felipe's heart or somebody's else heart.' What are we going to
do?"
Mr. Hampton shook his head.
"There are only eight of us, Jack," he said. "And we can't overload
ourselves. We have difficult country through which to make our
way--country that for a large part is trackless and uncharted. We can
afford to take only essentials."
"Yes, but, Dad, Brother Gregorio and the rest of them consider all they
have given us as essential."
Don Ernesto laughed.
"Bale up what we can't take, and leave it here against our return," he
said. "Let none of the monks see what has been taken and what left
behind. Thus no feelings will be hurt."
Jack's face brightened.
"Good idea," he said. "Well, come on fellows. Now this we can't take,
and this and this."
For hours they were busy sorting out the useless gifts, and for other
hours busy packing them securely and stowing away in the sitting room to
await their return.
At length the expedition was ready to start. The mules were packed,
Carlos, Pedro and the monks being expert in the art. Besides the
necessary food supplies and camping equipment, the luggage contained
field radio equipment of various sorts. There was a tube transmitter,
several sizes of spark coil, coils of fine wire, and duplications of the
standard U. S. Army field radio--several sets of hollow, light steel
poles in collapsible sections, a hand-operated quarter-kilowatt
generator, headphones and batteries being the main articles.
"With the tube transmitter we can reach you at our base here, Father
Felipe, for short distances," said Mr. Hampton. "But for long distance
work, the tube transmitter and batteries would not be strong enough. In
that case, this little generator will be the thing to employ. You might
consider us foolish to take all these duplications of equipment, but
they do not weigh much and, we have so distributed all among the mule
packs, that even if part become lost, we shall still have others upon
which to fall back."
Father Felipe looked about him at the assembled monks, and smiled.
"If you get into a tight place," he said, "call on us for help. It may
seem foolish to offer you the help of men of peace, yet we are no puling
men here, but strong, stout fellows all. Even should you be taken
prisoners and require stout arms to rescue you, call upon us. There be
many here who have soldiered in the past and who could strike a right
good blow in a righteous cause, I warrant you."
"I can easily believe that, Father Felipe," answered Mr. Hampton with a
smile. "Well, bid us Godspeed, and we shall be on our way."
The Abbot embraced Mr. Hampton, Don Ernesto and the boys unaffectedly.
Brother Gregorio and Frank did likewise. The other monks raised a cheer.
Then there was a period of silence while all knelt with uncovered head,
and Father Felipe prayed aloud for the safe return of the expedition.
Not until then did they swing off along a trail up the side of a
mountain that would presently vanish upon a bare mountain top, they were
assured, after which they would have to trust to their own energy and
resource for getting forward. At a bend in the trail all halted and
faced about for a last look at the monastery.
"It makes me feel as if I were living in mediaeval times," said Frank.
"The stout Abbot and his jolly monks, us setting off afoot with a mule
train, the prayer delivered over us as we start. Boy, this is the way to
live."
Jack reached over to clasp his chum's hand strongly, and Mr. Hampton
regarded the two with a little smile of sympathy.
"I feel the same way, boys," he said. "This is something I've always
wanted to do. Yes, it is good to be alive and starting out on an
adventure of which no man can guess the end."
"Just a boy, you are, my friend," said Don Ernesto, jestingly. "But I,
too. I, too. Come, let us get forward."