CHAPTER VIII

THE VIXEN TAKES A TUMBLE

While Ned, from the driver's seat on the aeroplane he had so

cleverly taken from the enemy, watched the distant light flashing

over the mountains, the bulk of an airship came into view. While

the boy was cheering himself with the hope that he would soon be in

touch with Jimmie, however, the light disappeared, and the dark body

of the machine was no longer visible.

"There's been an accident!" Collins muttered maliciously, in Ned's

ear. "That little chap can't run an aeroplane!"

"What is there over in that direction?" Ned asked, without replying

to the other's suggestion of evil. "Can one land there?"

"Not in the night," was the sullen reply. "Unless you want to

commit suicide and murder me in the bargain, you'd better keep in

the air."

"What's over there?" repeated Ned.

"Mountains," was the surly reply.

Ned pointed to a dark stretch below.

"That must be a valley," he said. "Anyway," he went on, "I'm going

down, and if we come to a point where it is jump or go down with the

machine, I'll cut you loose, so you'll have the same chance for your

worthless life that I do. That's more than you would do for me

under the circumstances!"

Ned guided the Vixen to, as near as he could make out, the location

of the other airship at the time of her disappearance and dropped

down. As he swept toward the earth the peaks of the Andes rose

above him.

Down, down, down he dropped, looking out keenly for trees and jagged

rocks. At last he saw a level stretch of land just below. The

rains had carried sand and ruble down from the mountains and filled

a valley perhaps three hundred feet in diameter with the wash of the

slopes. This formed what seemed to be a pretty good landing spot,

and Ned managed to bring the rubber-tired wheels of the airship down

without mishap.

Then, rolling swiftly under the impetus given by the now shut-off

motors, the wheels carried the bulk of the ship along for some

distance and dropped. Ned felt himself falling.

Thomas Q. Collins cried out in fright, and tried to kick himself

free from the harness, but the leather straps held. When the drop

ended there was, a jar and a crash, and the planes lay in a confused

heap in the bottom of a depression well stocked as to floor and

sides with jagged rocks.

In descending, the dragging propellers had loosened some of the

rocks, and they, rolling down the declivities after the machine, had

fallen upon and crushed the planes. Several great boulders thunked

near Ned's head, and Collins set up a great howl as a small stone

landed on the back of his neck.

Although the stars were shining brightly and the moon was abroad, it

was quite dark down in the hole into which the Vixen had fallen.

Ned could see slanting walls on all sides, and glimpse, above, the

slope of the deceiving level which had first caught the wheels, but

that was about all.

Finding himself uninjured, his first move was to get out his

searchlight and make an inspection of Thomas Q. Collins, who was

roaring like a wounded bull.

"Are you hurt?" the boy asked.

"Hurt!" howled the captive. "My head is broken, and my arms are

smashed! What do you mean by tying me up and then wrecking the

machine?"

Ned searched the fellow's clothing, removed a revolver and a dagger,

and then snapped off the harness which still held him to the seat.

Collins stretched himself and lunged at the boy.

"Keep away!" warned Ned.

"I'll show you that no Bowery kid can double-cross me!" Collins

screamed, paying no attention to the automatic in Ned's hand. "I'll

show you!"

The next moment Ned would have fired, with the intention of wounding

the enraged fellow, but a boulder intervened, and Collins went down,

striking his head on a rock. When the boy bent over he found him to

be unconscious.

Bringing the leather straps of the harness into use again, Ned bound

the man's hands behind his back, so as to prevent a second attack,

and set out to look for water. He had not long to look, for a tiny

spring bubbled out of the bottom of the pit and found its way toward

the valley below through a crevice in the rock. In a short time

Collins, under the influence of a right cold bath, sat up and

addressed the boy in language which would not have been considered

suitable in the presence of a lady.

"You've done it now!" the alleged steam pump salesman cried.

"You've dumped us into a pit in the heart of the Andes, and we'll

starve before any one comes to our assistance. Take this strap off

my wrists, or I'll have your life!"

"You're an excitable party," Ned laughed. "You want your own way!

I've been wondering, while I've been giving you first aid to the

indignant, what your name really is, and where you live."

"You'd better be trying to ascertain where we are," declared

Collins, "and what chance we have of getting out alive."

"I think I can tell you about where we are," Ned replied. "We were

in the air not far from five hours. The Vixen will run about sixty

miles an hour, therefore we are not fax from three hundred miles

from Lima, in a southeast direction. Do you know if we are near any

town?"

Collins sulked a short time and then nodded toward a great peak

which rose above all the others in the distance.

"That may be Vilcanota," he said.

"Old Vilcanota seems to be a whale," Ned observed, looking up at the

snow cap.

"Over 17,000 feet high," was the sullen rejoinder.

"Well," the boy went on, "if that really is Vilcanota, we are still

in the land of the living. In fact, we can't be more than

twenty-five miles from a town, and there is a railroad--so my maps

say--over to the east. It ends at Sicuani, and there the upper

branch of the Uacayli river begins. This river empties into the

Amazon at the head of steamboat navigation, the maps say."

"You seem to know a lot about this part of South America," gritted

Collins.

"And over to the south," Ned went on, "is Lake Titicaca, and over

the mountains from that body of water is Coroico, where the Beni

river starts on its long run to the Amazon, by way of the Madeira

river."

"Well," snapped Collins, drawing hard at the strap which held his

wrists, "you can't sit here and figure yourself out of this hole.

Why don't you do something?"

"Why, I thought it might be a good plan to wait until dawn," laughed

Ned. "Then I may be able to repair this machine."

"Repair nothing!" stormed Collins. "And in the meantime, I presume

you think you are going to keep me tied up like a calf going to

market?"

"About that way," Ned responded, whereat the captive snorted out his

rage and rolled over on his face and pretended to be asleep.

In a short time dawn shone on the tops of the tallest mountains, and

directly it crept slowly down into the pit where the wrecked

aeroplane lay. By this time Ned had mapped out a course of action.

The aeroplane he had seen in the night had descended not far from

this spot, and he had decided to climb to some convenient height and

look about for it. If he could come upon the Nelson, in good

sailing condition, there would be no need of repairing the Vixen, or

trying to do so.

Collins had counterfeited sleep until, utterly exhausted, he had

actually dropped off into slumber, so Ned had no captive to watch

for the time being. Before leaving for a tour of inspection he

examined the broken planes and discovered that it would be

impossible for him to repair them, at least without the necessary

tools and materials.

Climbing to the level bit of sand, then, he faced the east and began

the ascent of a mountain spur which seemed to reach the very

heavens. It was a beautiful morning, the air being sharp and clear

at that height. Ned felt that he could have enjoyed the beauties of

nature more fully, however, if he had something in the way of

breakfast!

He climbed steadily for an hour, and then came to a narrow ledge

which seemed to surround one of the lower peaks of the mountain.

Passing around to the south, he heard a shout, then a fall--a

bumping fall which told of a body bouncing from one rocky level to

another.

He ran around the angle ahead of him and came out on a shelf-like

elevation from which a green little valley, half way up the side of

the mountain, might be seen. In the center of the valley, carefully

blocked against sudden motion, lay the Nelson.

Ned could have danced with delight. The aeroplane appeared to be in

perfect condition, but there was no one insight. Jimmie and Pedro

must be about somewhere, the boy thought, as he considered the most

practical way of reaching the valley, but where were they?

He was about to call out in the hope of arousing one of the aviators

to action when he saw a hand waving at him from underneath the gray

planes. A more careful inspection of the spot revealed the dirty

face of little Jimmie, who was lying on his face, an automatic in

each hand. Pedro was nowhere to be seen.

Ned watched the signaling hand for an instant and then, in response

to what it said to him, scudded around the angle of rock by which he

had reached the shelf. As he did so an arrow whizzed past his right

ear and blunted against the rocky wall.

The situation was not difficult to understand. Jimmie had dropped

the Nelson into the little valley and had there been attacked,

either by savages or those interested in the defeat of the Boy Scout

expedition to Paraguay, though how the latter could have reached

that lonely spot so soon after the landing of the aeroplane was a

mystery which the boy could not fathom.

Following the attack, Jimmie had hidden under the planes, and Pedro

had probably taken to his heels. The situation explained,

doubtless, why the boy had not returned with the airship. He had

been held there by the enemies, virtually a prisoner.

After a short pause, during which Ned listened intently for some

sound of pursuit, the boy moved cautiously to the shoulder of rock

and looked around it to the shelf. There was no one in sight, so

he pressed on, and once more came within view of the aeroplane.

Back of the planes he saw a head lifted from the lip of a gully

which cut the valley like a trench. It was not the head of a

savage, nor yet the head of a Peruvian mountaineer, for it was

covered down to the eyebrows by a flat-topped leather automobile cap

which was adorned with driving goggles! Evidently an American!

While Ned, himself unseen, watched the cap and the goggles, the

wearer lifted himself and looked up over the edge of the gully. He

wore a gray suit, tailor-made, from all appearances.

Back of him three ill-visaged Peruvian Indians also raised

themselves to get a view of what was doing in front.

So the savages were led by an American! Instead of the automatic of

civilized warfare, the enemy was resorting to the poisoned arrow of

the barbarian!

An American there and in automobile costume! Where was the machine,

and how in the name of all that was wonderful had it been brought to

that rough country?

And why were the enemies crouching there, when their only opponent

was a boy, hidden if his position may be so termed--under the planes

of an airship--planes which would offer little resistance to an

arrow or a bullet?

But while the boy looked and wondered a shot came from the very

shelf on which he stood, and one of the exposed Indians dropped in

his tracks. Then the situation became a bit clearer.

Pedro had escaped from the valley to the shelf of rock, and was

standing guard there shooting whenever the attacking party attempted

to reach the aeroplane.

In a moment the automobile cap and goggle and the evil faces of the

Indians disappeared from view. The attacking party had dropped back

into the gully, which was some distance from the machine.

Waiting a moment, in order to make sure that no one was stirring

behind the shoulder of rock, Ned called softly:

"Pedro!"

"Hello!" came the answer back.

"'Where are you?" asked Ned, recognizing the voice of the Peruvian

he had talked with at Lima.

"In a notch of the rock," came the answer, in Spanish.

Ned moved along the shelf, and soon came to where Pedro stood,

sheltered by a jutting ledge. The journey was not accomplished

without attracting the attention of the others, for an arrow whizzed

past his head as he crept into the angle with Pedro.

Pedro expressed great joy at the arrival of the boy, and explained

that the situation as then shown had existed since dawn. On the

afternoon of the previous day Jimmie, being then about to return to

Lima, had found it necessary to land in order to repair a slight

break in a plane.

The driver of the pursuing Vixen, noting the temporary disablement,

had circled around the valley for a short time and then returned to

Lima. It was Pedro's idea that the Vixen would not return with

assistance, but with enemies who would destroy the machine, leaving

Jimmie and himself to find their way out of the mountains as best

they could.

Jimmie, Pedro said, had been unable to fix the Nelson for flight

until about daylight, and then the attacking party had appeared.

Since then it had been impossible to get the machine into the air,

as every motion at the airship brought a bullet or a poisoned arrow.

Just before Ned's arrival, an Indian had, by making a long journey

around the cliff, gained the shelf of rock where Pedro was

stationed, and been caught unawares and thrown down into the valley.

It was the cry and the fall of this foe that Ned had heard.

"But," Ned said, "the Vixen must have summoned some one active in

the conspiracy before returning to Lima, for the man over there came

in an automobile, and did not come very far either. He certainly

did not come from Lima, which is more than three hundred miles

away."

"He might have come from Sicuani," replied Pedro. "That is over to

the east, and not more than twenty miles off. I have heard that

there is a path by means of which a motor car can reach this place.

Yes, he must have gone to Sicuani, otherwise this man of the motor

car would not be here," Pedro added.

This cleared the situation not a little, and Ned was now encouraged

to make an attempt to reach the Nelson, which Pedro declared to be

in good condition for flight. If the others had come in an

automobile, there could not be many of them. Probably not more than

six in all, and two had been wounded, or killed.

Pedro insisted that, with Ned guarding him from the shelf, he could

reach the machine, but the boy thought it wiser to make the

desperate journey himself. Even if the Indian reached the Nelson,

the two of them might not be able to get the machine into the air,

as Jimmie had had little experience in running a plane.

So, after explaining to Pedro that he would be taken up later, Ned

began the task of making his way down the almost perpendicular face

of the cliff. Much to his surprise, there were no hostile

demonstrations from the gully in which the attackers had disappeared

a short time before.

Instead of shots and the whiz of arrows, the boy heard, when half

way down the slope, the distant whirr of a motor car!

"There is some trick in the wind," Ned thought. "They would never

run away in that manner because of the wounding of two Indians and

the arrival of one boy from the outside."

It was deathly still in the valley where the aeroplane lay. Sounds

from a distance came with remarkable distinctness, so the popping of

the motors of the automobile were plainly heard, and the direction

taken by the machine was thus made known.

Jimmie sprang up, uninjured, as Ned advanced and the two grasped

hands with more than ordinary feeling. Almost the first thing

Jimmie said was:

"I saw the lights of the Vixen last night, but thought the other

fellows would be in charge of her. How did you manage to geezle

her?"

"We stole her--and smashed her." Ned laughed, telling the remainder

of the story in as few words as possible.

Presently Pedro came down from the cliff and went over to the place

where the man he had thrown down the declivity had fallen. He found

him quite dead. With a solemn shake of the head he laid the body in

a sheltered nook and joined the others.

It took only a brief examination of the machine to show that she was

in as good condition as ever, and Ned prepared to mount and leave

the valley. Then the popping of additional motors broke out on the

still air, and Jimmie grinned.

"I guess you didn't smash the Vixen much," he said. "Anyway that

man in the motor car seems to have repaired her broken wings.

Probably had the tools to do it with him. They've got some dirty

scheme on!"

"Yes," Ned replied, grimly, "or they wouldn't have left the gully.

Collins will be on deck again in about a minute!"

Boy Scouts in an Airship; Or, The Warning from the Sky · 第 8 / 18 章