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Frank Merriwell Down South, a novel by Burt L. Standish |
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Chapter 11. The Awakening Volcano |
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_ CHAPTER XI. THE AWAKENING VOLCANO Two days later, shortly after sunset, the party camped far in the depths of the Sierra Madre Mountains. The words of Rodeo, the half-blood, had proved true, for they were pursued by the bandits, but, thanks to the skill of Bushnell, they had been able to give the desperadoes the slip. "By ther end of another day we oughter be able ter clap our peepers on ther Silver Palace," declared the Westerner. Professor Scotch was now as eager as any of them to see the wonderful palace, all his doubts having been dispelled by Bushnell's straightforward narrative of the discovery of the place by himself and Jack Burk. "I wonder what causes that column of smoke we saw rising amid the mountains to the westward to-day?" said Frank. Bushnell shook his head. "Thet thar has troubled me some," he admitted. "It seems ter be fair an' squar' in ther direction of ther Silver Palace." "Maype dose pandits peen aheadt uf us und purn der balace up," suggested Hans, with an air of very great wisdom. "I scarcely think they would be able to burn a building made of stone, gold, and silver," smiled Frank. "Wa'al, not much," said Bushnell. "Ther palace will be thar when we arrive. You needn't worry about thet." They were very tired, and, feeling secure in the depths of a narrow ravine, they soon slept, with the exception of Frank, who had the first watch. The moon came up over the mountain peaks, which stood out plainly in the clear light, every gorge and fissure being cut black as ink, and showing with wonderful distinctness. The shadow was deep in the narrow ravine, and Frank sat with his back to a wall of rock, looking upward, when he was startled to see a figure rise in the bright moonlight. On the brink of the ravine above stood a man who seemed to be peering down at them. "Awaken!" cried this man, in a loud voice. "You are in great danger!" The cry aroused every sleeper, and Bushnell started up with his Winchester clutched ready for use. "What is it?" he asked. Frank clutched his arm, gasping: "Merciful goodness! look there--look at that man's face! Can the dead return to life?" He pointed at the man on the brink of the ravine above them. The light of the moon fell fairly on the face of this man, which was plainly revealed to every one of the startled and thunderstruck party. "Move lively, down there!" cried the man, with a warning gesture. "There have been spies upon you, and Pacheco knows where you have stopped for the night." Bushnell dropped his rifle, clutching at the neck of his shirt, and gasping for breath. "By ther livin' gods!" he shouted, "it's my pard, Jack Burk, or it's his spook!" "Id vas a sbook!" gurgled Hans Dunnerwust, quivering with fear. "Id vos der sbook uf der man vot we seen deat as a toornail!" In truth, the man on the brink of the ravine looked like Jack Burk, who had been declared dead in the adobe hut near Mendoza. "It is a resemblance--it must be a resemblance!" muttered Frank. Once more the man above uttered a warning: "You were trailed by a spy," he declared. "The spy saw you camp here, and he has gone to bring Pacheco and the bandits. They will be here soon. If you escape, you must move without further delay." "It not only looks like my pard," said Bushnell, hoarsely, "but it has ther voice of my pard! Ef Jack Burk is dead, thet shore is his spook!" And then, as suddenly as he had appeared, the man above vanished from view. "Gone!" gasped Professor Scotch, wiping the cold perspiration from his face. "I never took stock in ghosts before, but now----" "Remember his warning," cut in Frank. "We had better heed it." "Dot vos righd," nodded Hans. "Yes, thet's right," agreed Bushnell. "We'll git out of hyar in a howlin' hurry. Ef Jack Burk is dead, then thet wuz his spook come to warn his old pard." There was saddling and packing in hot haste, and the little party was soon moving along the ravine. For at least thirty minutes they hastened onward, and then the Westerner found a place where the horses could climb the sloping wall of the ravine and get out of the gorge. It was no easy task to make the animals struggle to the top, but Bushnell succeeded in forcing them all up. When the party was out of the ravine every one breathed with greater freedom. "There," said Frank, "I do not feel as if we might be caught like rats in a trap." Frank was the last to move from the ravine, and, just as he was about to do so, he seemed to catch a glimpse of something moving silently in the darkness. "Hist!" came the warning from his lips. "Come here, Bushnell--professor, Hans, stay with the horses. Be cautious, and come lively." He flung himself on his face in the shadow of a great bowlder, and peered down into the darkness below. The Westerner and the professor came creeping to his side. "What is it?" asked Bushnell. "Look," directed Frank. "What do you make of it?" Peering down into the dark depths of the gorge, they saw black figures flitting silently past, men and horses, as they were able to make out. "Horsemen!" breathed the professor. "They must be the bandits!" "But look!" came cautiously from Frank's lips; "they are riding swiftly, yet the feet of their horses make no sound!" "That's right!" gasped Scotch. "Great Jupiter! can they be more ghosts?" "Mysteries are crowding each other," said Frank. Bushnell was silent, but he was watching and listening. Like a band of black phantoms, the silent horsemen rode along the ravine and disappeared. Frank could hear the professor's teeth chattering as if the man had a chill. "This bub-bub-beats my tut-tut-tut-time!" confessed Scotch. "I rather think we'd better turn back and let the Silver Palace alone." "Rot!" growled Bushnell. "Them varmints wuz Pacheco's gang, an' they hed the feet of their critters muffled, thet's all. Don't git leery fer thet. All ther same, ef Jack Burk or his spook hedn't warned us, them onery skunks w'u'd hed us in a consarned bad trap." This was the truth, as they all knew, and they were decidedly thankful to the mysterious individual who had warned them. Bushnell now resorted to the trick of "covering the trail," in order to do which it was necessary to muffle the feet of their horses and lead them over the rocky ground, where their bandaged hoofs could make no mark. At length he came to a stream, and he led the way into the water, following the course of the stream, and having the others trail along in single file directly behind him. When they halted again Bushnell assured them that there was little danger that the bandits would be able to follow them closely, and they rested without molestation till morning. At daybreak the Westerner was astir, being alive with eagerness and impatience, as he repeatedly declared they would behold the wonderful Silver Palace before another sunset. Eating a hasty breakfast, they pushed forward, with the Westerner in the lead. Once more the tower of smoke, which they had noted the day before, was before them, but now it seemed blacker and more ominous than on the previous day. It was not far from midday when, away to the westward, they heard rumbling sounds, like distant thunder. "Vot id vas, ain'd id?" asked Hans, in alarm. "I don'd seen no dunder shower coming up somevere, do I?" "It did not seem like thunder," said Frank, soberly. "It was more like a rumbling beneath the ground, and I fancied the earth quivered a bit." "Perhaps it is an earthquake," put in the professor, apprehensively. "I believe they have such convulsions of nature in this part of the world." Bushnell said nothing, but there was a troubled look on his face, and he urged them all forward at a still swifter pace. The smoke tower was now looming near at hand, and they could see it shift and sway, grow thin, and roll up in a dense, black mass. It cast a gloom over their spirits, and made them all feel as if some frightful disaster was impending. Again and again, at irregular intervals, they heard the sullen rumbling, and once all were positive the earth shook. It was noticed that directly after each rumbling the smoke rolled up in a thick, black mass that shut out the light of the sun and overcast the heavens. The professor was for turning back, but Bushnell was determined to go forward, and Frank was equally resolute. Hans had very little to say, but his nerves were badly shaken. "In less than an hour we shall be able to see the Silver Palace," assured Bushnell. "We would be fools to turn back now." So they went on, and, at last, they climbed to the top of a rise, from which point the Westerner assured them that the palace could be seen. An awe-inspiring spectacle met their gaze. They looked across a great gulf, from which the smoke was rolling upward in clouds, and out of which came the sullen mutterings they had heard. "Merciful goodness!" cried Professor Scotch. "It must be the crater of a volcano!" "Yah!" gasped Hans; "und der volcano vos doin' pusiness at der oldt standt alretty yet." "The volcano may have been dormant for centuries," said the professor, "but it is coming to life now!" "Where is the Silver Palace?" demanded Frank. Bushnell clutched the boy's arm with a grip of iron, pointing straight through the smoke clouds that rose before them. "Look!" he shouted, hoarsely; "it is thar! See--the smoke grows thinner, an' thar she am! See her glitter! In thet thar palace is stored enough treasure ter make us richer then ther richest men in ther world, an' ten thousand volcanoes ain't goin' ter keep me from it, you bet yer boots!" True enough, through the parted smoke clouds gleamed the towers and turrets of the wonderful palace that had remained hidden in the heart of the mountains hundreds of years, jealously guarded by the fierce natives, who believed it sacred, and who had kept the secret well from the outside world. _ |
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