THE AIRSHIP LAUNCHED AT LAST.
Frank came near following after the unknown member of the crew, when the
other made that flying leap over the side of the boat. Not that he
wanted to take a bath just then, but his forward progress had been
rapid, and he only saved himself by banging up against the taffrail,
which was unusually high for so small a vessel, and holding on sturdily.
He had heard the splash as the fellow reached the water. Doubtless he
was a good swimmer, as about all these natives seemed to be, and barring
his falling a prey to some loitering alligator or other reptile, he
would be able to gain the neighboring shore further down.
At any rate it was folly to think of looking for him.
"What's all the row?" cried Andy, as he came plunging forth from his
stateroom.
Some of the crew were even then looking over the side, and Frank
imagined they could give a pretty good guess as to what it meant. But
he heard not a word from even old Quito, and while the absence of a man
must be noticed in the morning, there would probably be no complaint.
When Andy heard about the attempt to injure the monoplane he was in a
tremble.
"Did you ever?" he exclaimed. "Why, it seems as though everything just
wants to knock us. When we give the government officials the merry ha!
ha! and even slip past the revolutionary army, after being bombarded by
their old cannon, here even our own men want to smash our precious
aeroplane, under the belief that it's an evil bird, come to bring bad
luck to the people."
"Better go back to your bunk and forget it," remarked Frank, who was
tenderly rubbing his elbow where it had come in contact with the hard
taffrail at the time he stopped so suddenly, balking at a bath.
"Me? Not on your life, Frank!" declared Andy, with much emphasis. "I'm
going to take a blanket and just lie down in front of that blessed
door. Nobody can get in then without walking over my body. And if I
catch a fellow trying it on, believe me, I'll give him something he
won't forget in a hurry. It'll be touch and go with him, I bet you."
Which he actually did, much to Frank's secret amusement, camping out
there on the floor as close to the locked door as he could get, and
bracing his back up against the same.
But then, fortunately, morning was not so far away and Andy would have
only a couple of hours, more or less, of his self-imposed labor.
They knew that if the pilot of the river expedition said truly, they
must even now be drawing near the town of Magangue. Possibly it would
break upon their vision with the coming of dawn.
Frank himself had no more intention of retiring to his bed than had
Andy, but continued to keep watch and ward until he saw the first peep
of daylight over the port side of the vessel.
Then he communicated the glad intelligence to his chum, and together
they stood there, watching the slow unfolding of dawn. From an ashen
gray the sky began to be marked with brighter hues; pink flushes
traveled along in lines that centered in the spot where the sun would
presently appear, and the gloom of night retreated once more back to its
hiding places among the mountain passes.
"There's the dinky old town!" cried Andy, pointing with trembling
finger.
"It is and no mistake," replied Frank, himself experiencing a sensation
of considerable relief, for at times it had seemed more than doubtful
whether the little expedition could ever overcome the many difficulties
that beset its passage up the swollen river.
And so they came to land just as the glorious sun showed his smiling
face. Andy declared that this was a harbinger of good luck, and his
cousin chose to readily agree with all he said, for it pleased him to
see Andy look more like his old self than he had been for many a day.
"Remember, only one of us ashore at a time until we land this cargo,"
remarked Frank, as they came to bring the boat to the bank, where a
group of natives waited to see what it all meant, surprise written
largely on their dark faces.
"That's right," responded the other traveler. "But I'm going to have
the aeroplane carried out on deck at once, so it can be taken ashore as
soon as we find where we are at. What we want first of all is to hear
about our friend, Carlos Mendoza, the cocoa planter. Perhaps he lives
miles away and we'll have to get some sort of conveyance to tote our
machine out to his place."
"Yes," observed Frank, "I've been laying out plans along that line. If
you don't mind I'll drop ashore while you're having the crates brought
on deck and make inquiries. Even away down here in this wilderness money
talks. Colonel Josiah told us it did for him in the heart of darkest
Africa, you know. And a few bolivars will hire all the help we want."
Andy was perfectly agreeable that his companion should have taken upon
himself the task of engineering things.
"You can always discount me when it comes to bargaining," he said,
laughingly; "so go ahead and fix things to suit yourself, Frank."
Upon reaching shore, Frank, who had taken old Felipe along with him to
serve as interpreter, found that Carlos Mendoza had his home just on the
border of the town, though it was a little distance away. He soon made
arrangements for hiring a native cart to be used in transporting the
precious aeroplane.
In less than half an hour they were on the way. The boat had been left
in charge of McClintock, the Scotch engineer, who would make sure that
the crew remained on board or lost the wages coming to them.
Both of the boys were so excited that they paid little attention to the
strange scenes which now surrounded them in the valley town far back in
the interior of tropical Colombia. Indeed, one might even have suspected
that they had always been accustomed to living in a region where all
manner of tropical fruits abounded, coffee and cocoa were raised as
crops, and birds of brilliant plumage flew overhead.
The truth of the matter was, they knew they would presently come face to
face with the planter who had actually picked up the little messenger
sent out of his cliff bordered prison by Professor Bird. And this fact
set their nerves to trembling with eager anticipations.
In due time the cart on which the aeroplane had been secured, together
with the luggage which the young aviators wished to carry along, drew up
before a long, low white building, back of which could be seen orange
trees and other evidences of a real tropical home.
Their coming must have been noted, for a gentleman was advancing from
the grove at the rear. Señor Carlos looked surprised at seeing the
caravan bringing up before his door, but that was as nothing in
comparison with his amazement upon learning how one of the two young
Americanos was the same Andrew Bird to whom he had desired his friend,
Señor Almirez, to forward the strange message picked up in his cocoa
grove one day several months back.
The boys had learned from Señor José that the owner of the plantation
could understand English and even speak it fairly well. Thus they had no
need of fetching Felipe along to act as interpreter.
"Oh, please first of all let me see the remains of the silk parachute
that was attached to the bark letter!" said Andy, after they had
conversed for a short time and some of the planter's hired servants had
unloaded the boxed aeroplane, which was stowed away in a place of
security.
Doubtless the planter understood the reason for the boy's solicitude. He
immediately took them inside the house and in another minute had thrust
into Andy's eager hands a discolored piece of silk, such as is used in
the making of balloons.
Nor did either Frank or the Colombian planter think it strange that the
boy should press the token again and again to his lips, while tears ran
down his face. They could understand the feelings that filled his heart,
and no matter what the nationality may be, the honest love of a lad for
his father cannot but provoke admiration and respect.
"And now," said Frank, presently, when his cousin had in a measure
recovered from his first emotion, "will you tell us, Señor Mendoza, just
how you found this strange communication? I hope you remember the exact
day, because it is of the greatest importance to us that we learn, as
near as possible, from just what quarter it came."
"Si, señor, I understand that," replied the planter, eagerly, his dark
face aglow with enthusiasm. "I made note of the day in my diary, also
the fact that it was the third day in succession when the wind blew
direct from the south, with just a faint turn to the west."
"Splendid!" cried Frank, turning to give his chum a reassuring
nod. "What did I tell you, Andy? The forethought of Señor Carlos has
made our task much easier. There can be little doubt, then, that the hot
air balloon must have started in a region that lies almost due south of
here, possibly with a slant, as he says, toward the south by west
quarter, as a sailor would call it. And now, señor, can you tell us just
where a direct line that way would bring us?"
"First over the lowland and the forests. Then, if you go far enough
amigos, it is the Sierra San Jeronimo mountains you would strike,"
replied the planter.
"Yes, I remember them on the map we have, and that corresponds exactly
with all I had in my mind," Frank observed, his forehead wrinkled with
serious thought.
"What sort of country is it up in those mountains?" asked Andy.
The planter shrugged his shoulders.
"That I am unable to tell you, amigos, since I have never been
there. From all I have heard I believe it is one of the wildest and most
inaccessible regions in all our country. Lofty peaks warn back the most
daring explorer. Few have ever ventured to attempt to go among
them. Some never came back, they say. The superstitious declare those
mountains are filled with evil things. Nothing on earth could tempt one
of my peons to accompany an expedition thither."
"Then it is lucky that we will not need any assistance in our
adventure," remarked Frank. "With an aeroplane one may be independent
of help. And now, Andy, what shall we do? It will take us the better
part of the day to assemble our little flier and get things ready for an
ascent."
"That means another horrible night of waiting before we can make a
start," said Andy, looking quite forlorn.
But he soon understood that it could not be helped. Both boys were
presently hard at work, with the deeply interested planter watching
every move. All the while they conversed and the subject of pretty much
all their talk had more or less to do with the country, the
peculiarities of climate, what sort of weather they might expect to have
and dozens of similar matters.
Doubtless Señor Mendoza would like to hear of things connected with the
great outside world, which he seldom saw anything of, but he realized
that these would keep until after the brave young señors had completed
their task of humanity.
Before evening came they had everything arranged to suit the critical
Frank. Both boys were pleased to find that the monoplane had come
through its long journey without any damage having been done.
That night they were uneasy about the precious airship, and at their
request the planter had their beds made up in the shed where the "Bug"
lay. But there was no attempt made to injure it in the least.
Then came the morning. Andy could hardly eat a bite of breakfast, for
the eagerness that possessed his soul. Every servant on the plantation
had gathered to look with awe upon the wonderful bird-like machine, on
which, it was whispered, these two venturesome young Americanos meant to
soar among the clouds.
Finally the last word was spoken, the planter shook hands with each of
his visitors, Frank turned on the power, the aeroplane with the motor
exhaust sounding like a volley of musketry started to run along the
level ground, and presently, to the consternation of the entire
gathering, began to climb upward, just like a creature of magic!
Cries of awe arose from scores of throats and to a man the peons threw
themselves flat on their faces, hardly daring to look at the terrifying
spectacle.