The Flying Machine Boys in the Wilds. Frank Walton
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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.
CHAPTER II.
WHAT THE FISHERMEN CAUGHT
Seated with his back to the thicket, Jimmie heard a rustle and turned about expecting to see one of his chums.
Instead, he saw the ugly, vicious face of an Ecuadorian savage. While he looked, the fellow was joined by another, equally repulsive and equally naked. During that first moment of amazement Jimmie dropped his fish pole and it went bobbing down the river.
“Carl!” he said, in a low whisper.
The boy shouted back from lower down the stream.
“Got a fish?”
“Come up and see!” cried Jimmie.
Carl came panting through the undergrowth, and Jimmie pointed with a hand which was not quite steady at the two figures in the underbrush just back of him.
“Look what I’ve found!” he whispered.
“Did you call me up to give me my share?” asked Carl. “If you did, I don’t want it! You’re welcome to everything you find in that line!”
“Gee!” Jimmie exclaimed. “I wish we were back by the machines!”
“I wish so, too!” Carl put in. “I wonder why they stand there looking at us in that way.”
“Maybe they’re out after supper, too!” remarked Jimmie.
“Do they eat folks?” asked Carl.
“The savages who come over from the Amazon valley eat folks,” Jimmie answered, “and those fellows look as if they came from that neighborhood.”
“Let’s start on up toward camp and see if they will interfere!” suggested Carl.
“Have you got a gun with you?” asked Jimmie.
“Of course not!” was the reply. “I didn’t come out to shoot fish!”
“And I left mine at the camp, too!” Jimmie complained. “I’ll never do it again!”
“Well, let’s make a start and see what comes of it!” suggested Carl.
As the boys moved away the savages, men of medium height but apparently very strong and supple, lifted naked arms in gestures which commanded them to remain where they were.
“I wonder if they’ve got guns?” questioned Jimmie.
“They’ve got little short spears!” answered Carl. “I saw one in that fellow’s hand.”
“And I suppose they’re poisoned, too!” Jimmie asserted.
The two savages now advanced from the thicket and stood threateningly before the two boys. Except for breech-clouts, which seemed to be woven of some sort of fiber, the men were naked. In color they were almost as dark as the negro of Africa. Their features seemed to be a cross between the tribes of Asia and Africa. They were armed with short spears which they flourished with many hostile gestures.
“Good-evening!” Jimmie said.
The savages conversed together in a dialect which seemed to the boys to resemble a confidential conversation between two hogs, and then pointed down the river.
“Here’s where we get abducted!” Carl exclaimed.
“You needn’t get funny about it!” Jimmie expostulated. “This is no joke!”
“Anyhow,” Carl went on, “the ginks don’t know anything about good manners. They never answered your salutation!”
The savages were still uttering what appeared to be wordless commands, and, as they continued to point down the river, very reluctantly the boys started in that direction.
“I wonder if the brutes have captured the camp, too?” queried Jimmie.
“Oh, I suppose so!” Carl answered. “These fellows travel in droves, like wild hogs, and I guess we lit right in the middle of a large tribe.”
In spite of the impatience expressed by the gestures of their captors, the boys proceeded very slowly. As they walked they listened for some indication of trouble at the camp. They knew that Glenn and Ben were well armed, and that they would not submit to capture without first putting up a spirited defence.
“We haven’t heard any shooting yet,” Jimmie said in a moment.
“I