A CHAPTER OF ACCIDENTS.
In the meantime Rob and Merritt, working waist deep in the muddy
shallows, had succeeded, after some rather arduous work, in clearing the
stern wheel of its entangling rope. The line had become twisted in and
out of the shaft in such a way that it was necessary in places to cut it
loose.
When this had been done, Mr. Mainwaring decided that before blowing the
whistle to summon back the young hunters they would give the machinery a
test. Accordingly, when the canoes had been secured to the shore, Rob
reversed the engine and started it up.
For a moment it whirled and chugged away, straining to back the launch
off the muddy shallows in which she had grounded. The lightly built craft
trembled under the effort. The engine snorted and puffed as more power
was applied.
"Hooray! We're afloat once more!" cried Merritt triumphantly, as the
launch was caught in the current and swung free. But at the same instant
came an ominous cracking sound. The engine raced wildly and then stopped
as Rob shut off the power.
"What's the matter now?" cried Mr. Raynor apprehensively, as the launch
began to drift downstream in a helpless way.
"Wait a minute. I'll see," cried Rob, and then the next instant, "The
driving chain has snapped!"
"Throw out the anchor before we drift any more," cried Mr. Mainwaring.
This was done and then Rob set about making an investigation. As he had
declared, the driving chain, which drove the stern wheel just as a
bicycle sprocket is revolved, had parted in the middle. Undoubtedly the
strain that had been placed on it when they were backing the launch off
had proved too much for its strength.
They regarded the accident with some dismay.
"Great Scotland! That means we are stuck," exclaimed Merritt.
"Unquestionably, unless we can make some repairs," admitted Mr.
Mainwaring.
"Do you think you can fix it, Rob?" asked Mr. Raynor.
"I might manage to make a temporary link out of wire," replied Rob, "but
I'm afraid it wouldn't hold long against the current."
"Isn't there a spare chain in the tool locker?" asked Merritt.
Mr. Mainwaring shook his head.
"There's nothing for it but to turn back and get a new link forged," he
said. "Too bad!"
"It is indeed," agreed Rob. "Shall I make a link out of steel wire? I
guess that would be strong enough to carry us down with the stream if we
go slowly."
"Yes, do so," was the reply. "Merritt, will you sound the return whistle
for Bob Hopkins and Fred?"
Merritt pulled the cord connecting with the compressed air whistle and
tugged it lustily. Then he paused and blew again, keeping this up for
some time. No reply had come; but as yet they felt no anxiety. It was
likely that the boys would take some time in returning, and the
possibility of their being out of ear-shot of the whistle did not occur
to any of the party.
But when an hour had passed and then another dragged its slow length away
without bringing any signs of the absentees, anxiety gave place to alarm
and alarm to genuine fear that harm might have overtaken them. They
looked blankly at each other. For a time no one spoke.
Suddenly, from a great distance as it seemed, there came the sound of a
rifle shot.
Had they but known it, the sound was caused by Tubby's shot at the band
of monkeys. Although ignorant of its cause, it made the dismayed little
party's spirits pick up a bit to hear at least some sound of the two
young hunters, even though they knew that they must be some distance off.
"Raynor," ordered Mr. Mainwaring, "I don't know whether that shot was
merely a signal that they are coming, or a signal of distress. In any
event I am going ashore. Rob, you may come with me if you like. Bring
your rifle. Merritt, you keep guard with Mr. Raynor."
The engineer merely nodded in answer to his chief's orders. Merritt
looked rather disappointed. He would have liked to accompany the
searchers, but as he knew that was impossible he put the best face
possible on the matter and helped Rob and Mr. Mainwaring to get ashore by
means of the plank.
Almost instantly the jungle swallowed them up. As they vanished from
sight, Raynor sighed. Merritt looking up saw that he looked distressed.
He ventured to ask him what was the matter.
"I don't just know why, my boy, but I've got an idea that the lads are in
trouble in the woods yonder," he said. "I don't like the idea of that
distant shot."
"You--you don't think that there are any Indians off in the forest, do
you?" asked Merritt, turning a shade paler.
"I don't think anything. I don't want to say anything till I'm sure; but
we're not so far from San Blas country that a wandering hunting party
might not happen along through the forest. They have the jungle
honeycombed with paths known only to themselves."
"But supposing--just supposing that the boys did fall in with them, would
the Indians do them any harm?"
"Impossible to say, Merritt. This I do know, however, that the Indians'
minds have been worked on by those who are opposed to the canal until
they have been taught to regard all white men as their enemies. They have
been told that the making of the canal will flood out their hunting
grounds and drive them into remoter parts of the country. Naturally, they
regard white men with suspicion and hatred."
While this conversation was going on, Mr. Mainwaring, whose face was
sadly troubled, and his young companion, had been pushing their way
through the jungle. Fortunately the trail of Tubby and Fred was pretty
well marked where they had shoved their way through the underbrush.
Finally they came to the spot where the two boys had met with the
serpent. Rob examined the ground with the instinct of a true scout and
skillful trapper. Traces of a sudden stoppage and a precipitate flight
off into the jungle were plainly visible.
But what had caused the boys to beat such a rapid retreat was by no means
so plain.
"Can you make out anything, Rob?" asked Mr. Mainwaring, after a pause.
"No, sir," said Rob perplexedly, "except that something appears to have
frightened them just at this point. You can see by their footmarks in
this soft mud that they were running fast when they made off. And see
here, sir, where one of them fell and scrambled up again, going on as
quickly as before."
"Jove, you can read all that in those tracks?"
"That's part of the Boy Scout training, sir," rejoined Rob modestly.
"It's wonderful! Wonderful! But tell me, can you see the signs of any
wild beasts?"
"Not one. That's what makes it so mysterious. It is plain that something
was after them and yet there are no tracks."
"Well, we had better follow up the trail they have left through the
jungle. That is our only course, in fact."
On and on they pursued the trail, going slowly of necessity. Here they
would lose the trail for a time and then again in a few minutes Rob's
cleverness as a Scout would pick it up again by means of a broken blade
of grass or a creeper that had been brushed aside. Never had the young
leader's well-trained faculties been more on the alert than now as he
followed his chum's trail through the trackless jungle.
And all the while poor Tubby and Fred were wandering further and further
from them. At length they reached the open space where the boys had
paused a while and Tubby had shot at the monkeys overhead. All at once
Rob darted forward. On the ground he had spied a brass shell. They
examined it and found that it tallied with the caliber of Tubby's rifle,
but beyond this there was no further clue.
Suddenly Rob gave a cry of delight. He eagerly examined what appeared to
Mr. Mainwaring to be nothing more than a clump of pampas grass slightly
bent over to the left. But Rob's quick eye had caught sight of a band of
grass tied round its top just below the bend. To an ordinary person's eye
this would have meant nothing. But to Rob, trained in scouting, it meant
that the two lads they were pursuing had turned to the left.
On they went again, never flagging through the hot noonday, but patiently
picking up the trail as they went along. Now a scratch on the bark of a
limb would show Rob the direction, presently some trampled grass or
flowers led him on, again he would stumble on one of Tubby's stone or
grass signs.
All the time the trail kept getting fresher. Their hopes rose high.
"We're catching up on them," cried Rob. "It's slow but sure; we're
catching up."
Presently they stood in the space under the tall trees where Tubby and
Fred had paused and where the San Blas Indians had surprised them. Rob,
like a pointer dog, went rapidly hither and thither, crouched low,
looking for the tiny signs which mean so little to an untrained and so
much to a carefully educated eye.
Suddenly he gave a sharp cry. It brought Mr. Mainwaring to his side in an
instant.
"Look, sir! Here in this soft earth! The print of bare feet! Very small
bare feet! What does it mean?"
"Indians!" exclaimed Mr. Mainwaring, his face working. "The trail ends
here, Rob. Oh, my poor boy! My poor boy!"
And, quite overcome, Mr. Mainwaring sank down on the same log on which,
had he but known it, his son Fred had collapsed but a short time before.
It was a long time that he sat there with his head buried in his hands,
and when he raised his face Rob saw that it was white and strangely
drawn, but full of determination.
"What are we to do, sir?" demanded Rob. "I'm afraid that, as you say,
there is no doubt they have been carried off; but luckily, I see no signs
of a struggle. Perhaps there is hope."
Mr. Mainwaring had said nothing and Rob had not told him of his discovery
of a spear that still stuck in the tree into which it had darted
quivering above Tubby's head. He could not find it in his heart to
increase Mr. Mainwaring's distress, and, agitated as he himself was, Rob
had still thoughtfulness enough not to add to another's burdens.
Presently he repeated his question.
"Have you any plan, sir?"
Mr. Mainwaring sprang to his feet; his eyes had a hard glint in them.
"Yes, I have a plan," he exclaimed, "the only plan that can save them. We
must return at once, get a powerful force and ransack this forest from
end to end. Perhaps if the Indians learn of this, and learn of it they
will quick enough, they will give the boys up."
Slowly, each busied with his own thoughts, they made their way back
toward the river. But before they reached it, it began to grow dusk. An
uneasy wind sighed in the tops of the forest trees. But for this a
death-like stillness prevailed.
"We must hurry. A storm is coming on," said Mr. Mainwaring looking
upward.
Before long they could catch the glint of the river through the trees.
But here a fresh surprise awaited them. There lay the canoes, just as
they had left them; everything looked the same, but of the launch there
was not a sign!
They could hardly believe their eyes, but the fact remained that the
_Pathfinder_ had vanished; nor was there any trace of its two occupants.
It was at this moment that Rob noticed that the river seemed to be
flowing more swiftly and that its level had risen.