Читать книгу The Flying Machine Boys in the Wilds - Frank Walton - Страница 1

The Flying Machine Boys were camping under the equator. The Louise and the Bertha, the splendid aeroplanes in which the lads had visited California and Mexico, lay on a great plateau some fifteen thousand feet above the level of the Pacific ocean, and two thin tents of light oiled-silk stood not far away.

Ben Whitcomb and Jimmie Stuart sat at the entrance of one of the tents shivering with cold, while Glenn Richards and Carl Nichols, in the interest of increased warmth, chased each other around a miserable little apology for a fire which alternately blazed and smoldered near the aeroplanes.

“I begin to understand now how those who freeze to death must suffer!” declared Ben, his teeth chattering like the “bones” of an end-man in a minstrel show.

“You give me a pain!” grinned Jimmie. “Here we are almost exactly under the equator, and yet you talk of being cold!”

The boy’s lips were blue and he swung his arms about his body in the hope of getting a livelier circulation of blood as he spoke.

“Under the equator!” scoffed Ben. “Better say ‘under the Arctic circle!’ What are we camping here for, anyway?” he added impatiently, springing to his feet. “Why not drop down into a region where the equator isn’t covered with ice a foot thick?”

“You wanted to pass a night up here!” laughed Carl, stopping in front of the two boys, his eyes dancing with mischief, his cheeks flushed from exercise. “You told us how you wanted to breathe the cool, sweet air of the hills! Now breathe it!”

“The cool, sweet air of the hills,” Ben retorted, “reminds me of the atmosphere of the big refrigerator at home.”

Glenn Richards now joined the little group and stood laughing at the disgusted expression on the face of his chum.

“Didn’t I tell you,” he exclaimed, “that Ecuador is the land of contradictions? When you come here, you bring a peck or two of quinine tablets, a bundle or two of mosquito netting, and a couple of bales of fans. You bring your summer clothing, and don’t expect to wear much of that. Then you go on a trip up-country and freeze to death where the ice is about nine thousand feet thick!”

“I know where all the heat goes!” Jimmie declared. “It pours out of those big peaks you see off there. How do you suppose the earth is going to keep any warmth in it when it is all running out at volcanoes?”

The boys were, perhaps, twenty miles north of Quito, almost exactly under the equator. From the plateau on which they were encamped several ancient volcanoes were in plain view.

“Huh! I guess the volcanoes we see are about burned out!” Carl declared. “At any rate, I don’t hear of their filling in any valleys with lava.”

“I guess about all they do now is to smoke,” Ben suggested.

“And that’s a bad habit, too!” Glenn Richards grinned.

“Now, I’ll tell you what we’d better do, boys,” Glenn said, after glancing disapprovingly at the small fire. “We’d better hop on the machines and drop down about ten thousand feet. I’ve got enough of this high mountain business.”

“All right!” Jimmie returned. “You know what you said about wanting experiences which were out of the way. If you think you’ve got one here, we’ll slide down to the green grass.”

It was late in November and the hot, dry season of the South American continent was on. Far below the boys could see the dark green of luxuriant vegetation, while all around them lay the bare brown peaks of lofty plateaus and lifting mountain cones.

As it was somewhere near the middle of the afternoon, the boys lost no time in packing their camp equipage and provisions on the aeroplanes. In order to find a suitable place for a camp lower down they might be obliged to traverse considerable country.

In describing this part of the continent a traveler once crumpled a sheet of paper in his hand and tossed it on the table, saying to a friend as he did so that that was an outline map of the northern part of South America. There were many gorges and plateaus, but only a few spots where aeroplanes might land with safety.

After quite a long flight, during which the machines soared around cliffs and slid into valleys and gorges, the boys found a green valley watered by the Esmeraldas river. Here they dropped down, and the shelter-tents were soon ready for occupancy.

“I suppose,” Carl grumbled as provisions were taken from the flying machines and brought to the vicinity of the fire, “that we’ll have to fight thousands of kinds of crawling and creeping things before morning!”

“Well,” Jimmie laughed, “you wouldn’t stay up there where the flying and creeping things don’t live!”

“My private opinion,” declared Glenn, “is that we ought to spend most of our time in the air! I wish we could sleep on the machines!”

“Where are we going, anyhow?” demanded Jimmie.

“We’re going to follow the backbone of the South American continent clear to Cape Horn!” replied Ben. “That is, if our flying machines and our tempers hold out!”

“I have an idea,” Glenn said, “that we’ll spend most of the time in Peru, which is probably the oldest country in the world so far as civilization is concerned.”

“That’s another dream!” exclaimed Carl.

“Look here,” Glenn exclaimed, “there are still temples and palaces in Peru which date back beyond the remotest reach of tradition. The earliest Incas believed that many of the fortresses, castles and temples which they found there were formed by the gods when the world was made.”

“That’s going back a long ways!” laughed Jimmie.

“There’s a lake in Peru called Titicaca on an island in the middle of which lies an ancient palace and many other structures,” Glenn went on. “Gathered about it are the remains of a civilization that was old when the people of Europe consisted of a group of semi-heathen tribes wandering from place to place. There are palaces surpassing anything to be seen on the Rhine, and castles which had fallen into decay before civilization began at the mouth of the Nile.”

“Go to it!” laughed Carl. “Make it good and old while you’re about it!”

“On the island of Titicaca,” continued Glenn, “are marvels in architecture which make the wonders of Egypt look like thirty cents! There are massive fortifications perched on the sides of almost perpendicular cliffs, and even to-day there are large stones carefully balanced on the verge of precipices, ready to be pushed off at a moment’s notice and sent crashing down on the legions of an attacking foe.”

“Those old fellows must have been fighters!” commented Ben.

“They were fighters, all right!” Glenn went on. “They ruled all that part of the world until the Spaniards came. They were very superstitious, the sun being an object of worship. The Temple of the Sun, on the island of Titicaca, was one of the most magnificent structures ever erected. Outside and inside the walls were lined with gold and precious stones. The temple was the pride of the Incas, but it was stripped of its rich covering by the Spaniards. The walls were torn down and rifled, and the sacred sun was seized and gambled for by the covetous invaders. Nothing that could be converted into money was overlooked. And since that time the Incas have become one of the lowest races on the face of the earth.”

“I suppose we shall be able to inspect a lot of these old temples?” asked Carl.

“Undoubtedly!” Glenn answered. “Some of them are deserted; some are occupied by native Indians, and some are said to be frequented by the spirits of those who erected them.”

“Gee! That sounds good to me!” exclaimed Jimmie.

“A haunted temple might help some!” Carl exclaimed.

“There really is a temple down on Lake Titicaca!” declared Glenn, “which even Europeans declare to be inhabited by the Evil One.”

“That’s where I’m headed for!” declared Jimmie. “Any old time you show me a mystery you’ll see me on the job!”

“There’s a mystery there, all right!” Glenn insisted. “The temple stands on a winding arm of the lake, and is entirely surrounded by broken country. So difficult is it of access that for years no one attempted to visit it. Then, a few years ago, a party of Englishmen made their way to the ruins and found themselves in an atmosphere of mystery almost resembling magic.”

“What did they see?” asked Ben.

“I don’t remember exactly what they all saw,” Glenn answered. “Their stories do not agree! Some saw figures in white—the long flowing robes of priests—some saw strange lights suspended in the air; some heard the most mournful and terrifying sounds.”

“And these Englishmen were supposed to be people of average intelligence?” asked Ben.

“There were scientists in the party!” was the reply.

“There is no such word as ghost in the dictionary of the scientist!” laughed Carl.

“Following the stories told by the visitors,” Glenn went on, “a number of people visited the vicinity of the temple, and all came away with tales more vivid and more imaginative than those of the scientists. For two years now the place has been left entirely alone.”

“We might go there and camp!” suggested Carl.

“I move we take a look at it!” Jimmie cut in. “We can fly down on the roof and get away before the goblins get us.”

“I’m game for anything you boys decide on,” Glenn declared, “but my private opinion is that it will be only a waste of time for us to pay much attention to the haunted temple!”

“The ghosts wouldn’t like us if we should leave their country without making a formal call!” laughed Carl.

“Who’s going to get supper?” asked Jimmie in a moment. “I feel like I could eat one of the wild beasts which are said to flourish in this region!”

“There isn’t much supper to get!” replied Ben, with, a laugh. “All we have is a couple of pounds of ham, a few eggs, and a lot of tinned provisions. There’s the river down there. Why don’t one of you boys go and catch a fish?”

“Aw, I don’t believe there’s any fish in that river!” grinned Jimmie. “If there are fish there, they’ll be tough eating for they must be acrobats!”

“Why acrobats?” asked Glenn.

“Because they must stand on their heads and turn handsprings in order to get something to eat in that swift water!”

“I believe we can get a fish for supper, just the same!” insisted Carl, “and I’m going to get out a line and an imitation minnow and go try!”

“May the luck of the hungry fisherman go with you!” laughed Ben.

“He’ll have better company than that!” Jimmie grinned. “I’m going along myself!”

While Glenn and Ben arranged the camp for the night Jimmie and Carl started away down the slope leading to the river. Directly in front of the tents the bank was clear of undergrowth, and covered with grass almost waist high. Lower down, however, to the west, was a great thicket which seemed to extend for miles. The opposite shore of the stream was heavily wooded for some distance up. Above, the timber line showed the bare, brown slopes of mountains.

When the two boys reached the bank of the stream the prospects were not attractive, the water being broken into rapids and falls by jagged rocks which occupied the bed of the river at this point. To the west, however, where the stream entered the forest, the surface of the water appeared to be unbroken, so the lads made their way in that direction. In a few minutes their lines were out and almost instantly sharp twitches at the hooks informed the boys that they were not fishing in barren waters.

But before the first fish was landed an exciting interruption occurred.