The Lost Mine of the Amazon, Page 4

  “If you wish to live among Anglo-Saxons as much as that, Carmichael, Ishould think you’d get your wish before you die.” He looked across thefield and saw a short, helmeted figure coming toward them. “DonRodriguez, I bet. He’s smiling, so that must be he. He’s smiling withrecognition as if he’s been given a pretty accurate description of me.”

  “And a description one could never forget,” said Carmichael. “You musttell me more about yourself, Keen—that is if you care to. If allAmericans are like you, then I want to meet heaps of them.”

  “Well, I’m glad I’ve done so much for my country,” Hal laughed. “AndI’ll tell you all you want to hear. Wait until we get up in theair—we’ll have a little shouting party, huh?”

  “Righto.”

  The helmeted figure came straight to Hal with outstretched hand andblack, smiling eyes.

  “Señor Hal Keen—tall like a mountain and red at the top,” he said inbroken English, and laughed. Then he turned to Rene. “And this is theSeñor uncle—no?”

  “Yes,” answered Carmichael with a swift chuckle, “his Dutch uncle.” Andin an undertone to Hal, he said: “Do I look as old as that?”

  “It depends on how old looking you think an uncle ought to look,” Halgrinned. “My unk seems like a kid to me yet. He’s not forty.”

  “And I’m not thirty,” said Carmichael with a poignancy in his voice thatdid not escape Hal. But he was all laughter the next second and headded: “At that I can still be your Dutch uncle, eh? Your Uncle Rene?”

  “I’ll tell the world you can! _You are!_” Hal turned then to thestill-smiling Rodriguez. “When do we hop off in your bus?”

  “Ah, to be sure,” said the aviator. “The plane, you mean, eh? She isthere—see?” he said, pointing to a small, single-motor cabin plane. “Nowshall we take a fly over the jungle, you and the Señor uncle?”

  “Sure,” they answered unanimously. And as they followed at the aviator’sheels, Rene whispered: “I kind of like this, being your Dutch uncle. Andas long as he thinks so....”

  “Why bother to explain, huh?” Hal returned in the spirit of the thing.“There’s not that much difference between a real uncle and a Dutch uncleanyway.”

  But Hal was to learn that there _was_ a difference as far as Rodriguezwas concerned.

  CHAPTER IX EXIT RENE

  When they got to the plane, Rodriguez proceeded on into his cockpit,motioning his passengers to make themselves comfortable in the tinycabin. After a moment they were off.

  They bumped across the field, then rose into the air, hesitated a momentas if they were going to fly straight for the jungle, then soared highinto the blue. Hal nodded with satisfaction, after a half hour hadelapsed.

  “Some beautiful country,” he shouted at Carmichael. “Like a big paintedcanvas.”

  “You wouldn’t think so if you got lost in it,” Rene shouted back. “Thisfellow’s taking us for quite a long hop, eh?”

  Hal nodded and looked out of the tiny window down upon the endless seaof jungle over which they were passing. The plane roared on through theglistening blue and for a time neither of the young men spoke. Yet theywere both aware of a peculiar sound coming from the motor. It was notmissing, yet each revolution seemed more labored than the one precedingit.

  Rene looked at Hal questioningly.

  “I’ve traveled in these things plenty, but I don’t know a thing aboutthem. But I can tell the thing isn’t running perfectly.”

  “It isn’t,” Hal roared across to his newly found friend. “We’re going tohave trouble in a sec and I don’t mean maybe. If I could talk toRodriguez I could find out, but his English is painful and my Portuguesehasn’t even begun.”

  “If that’s the difficulty, Hal,” said Rene unconsciously using the namewith all the affection of an old acquaintance, “why, I can help you outthat way. I can speak Rodriguez,” he added with a conscious chuckle.

  “Gosh, that’s fine,” said Hal. “Come on, we’ll pile up there and you askhim.”

  The Brazilian seemed surprised to see his two passengers appear in thenarrow, low doorway of his cockpit. In point of fact, Hal sensed that hewas even startled. The smile that he gave them looked twisted andforced.

  Carmichael questioned him in Portuguese, an undertaking which seemedinterminable to Hal. Meanwhile, the engine sounded worse and afteranother second it began to miss. They were in for trouble. Rodriguez’gloomy face augured the worst.

  Hal noticed then with something of a start that he was wearing a chute.Neither he nor Carmichael had been asked to wear one and he wonderedwhy. It puzzled him greatly.

  “Ask him what’s the idea?” Hal queried, drawing Carmichael’s attentionto the pilot’s chute. “Do we look like orphans? We’re his guests.”

  Carmichael stared at the chute, then grabbed Rodriguez roughly by theshoulder and a flow of Portuguese ensued. Suddenly he turned back toHal, his weather-beaten face a little drawn.

  “Of all absurd excuses, Keen—he says he didn’t think to ask us if wewanted one. This is the only one on this plane—the one he’s safelywearing. He also says the bus is doomed—comforting news. We’re no lessthan two hundred miles from _Manaos_ already and there isn’t a deucedplace for him to land in this jungle.”

  “Then if he thinks we’re doomed, why the devil doesn’t he turn back!”Hal said impatiently. “What’s the idea of continuing north? Besidesthere _might_ be a place we can find if he’s got the nerve to fly lowenough to see. There’s a chance that we’ll pancake and get a bit bangedup, of course, but it’s better than letting a bus crack up right underour noses without us making any attempt to prevent it! If you askme—he’s yellow!”

  “I’m thinking so too, Keen.” Carmichael frowned. “You seem to know moreabout planes than this chap—at least you use your head in a pinch. Whatdo you think the chances are if we landed as you suggest. It’s densejungle right below.”

  “If we could find a bit of a clearing we could take it easy and let hergo nose first. One thing, I guess it’s all swamp down there, huh? Well,that’s a help—it makes a softer berth. But to answer your question—if wecan find a clearing large enough, there’s a darn good chance for usskinning through whole.”

  “But little chance of us getting out,” said Carmichael thoughtfully. “Ican answer that, for I know the jungle. One of us ought to bail out inthat chute right away and take a chance that this east wind blows himnear enough to a settlement so that help could be had. It’s necessaryfor one of us to go, Keen. Otherwise we’ll all be lost. As long asRodriguez is wearing the chute....”

  “No,” said Hal decisively, “we’ll flip a coin. Heads goes with thechute, tails stays. It’ll be between you and me, then between Napoleonthere and yourself. O. K.?”

  “Suits me. Here goes—I’ll spin,” said Carmichael, taking a Braziliancoin out of his pocket and flipping it in the air. “Yours first, Keen,”he called as the coin came down on his palm.

  It was tails. Carmichael’s flip brought heads and with the next turn thepilot lost too. Hal lost no time in ripping the chute from him andadjusting it on Carmichael.

  “Good luck to you, fellow,” he said. “I’ll try to find a spot as nearhere as possible. Have you got our position.”

  Carmichael nodded gravely. Rodriguez uttered a little squeal, the colorwent from his face and in a second the plane began to wobble. Hal pulledhim from behind the wheel and himself righted the ship.

  “I’ll keep hold of her now,” he assured Carmichael who stood anxiouslyin the low doorway of the cockpit. “Our brave Ace isn’t fit to steer ababy carriage. He hasn’t morale enough to keep himself going, much lessa ship. All right, now, I’m giving you enough altitude to let you clearus nicely. Can’t keep it up more than a couple of minutes though. Listento her missing! Bail out now, Rene,” he added, using the latter’sChristian name unconsciously. “See you later.”

  “Sooner than that, Hal,” Carmichael smiled wistfully. “Promise
me you’llbe careful.”

  “Doggone right I will! Scoot now!”

  Hal knew he was going, knew he was gone. There was that aboutCarmichael, he felt, that one immediately missed—that effulgentsomething which seemed to radiate from his slim person. Now that lighthad gone with him and there was no sound but the unsteady throb of themotor. Rodriguez was huddled over in the corner of the cockpitshivering, with his eyes fixed fearfully over the illimitable roof ofthe jungle.

  Hal, however, had ceased to consider his presence at all. Moreover,there wasn’t time. Every precious second he used in circling lower andlower over the glistening green jungle and trying to remember word forword the valuable advice that the famous brothers Bellair had given himas to what could be done in a pinch.

  He had cut down a thousand feet, then two thousand, and then he couldpick out the colorful birds flying from tree to tree. A few hundred feetmore and he could see them quite plainly. After that he dared to let herdive a little and coming out on an even keel he saw something betweenthe dense foliage that made his heart thump.

  It was a clearing.

  CHAPTER X SAFETY?

  Hal shut down the motor after that, let the plane circle once more underits own momentum, then pointed her nose straight down toward theclearing.

  Within a flash he had slid from behind the wheel, reached over in thecorner and dragged Rodriguez by the collar, pulling him into the cabinwith a swift jerk. That accomplished, he flung himself down to thefloor, head down, and called to the cowardly pilot to do the same.

  Hal tried to keep his mind a blank during the ensuing seconds.Rodriguez’ shrieks of fear, the tearing, ripping sounds of the fabric,and the shattering of glass did not make him move a muscle. And when hedid stir it was by force, for the plane thrust her nose into the swampyground with such an impact that he was thrown the length of the cabinfloor.

  There was another terrific vibration, another shattering of glass and,before the plane settled her nose in the mud, Hal and the pilot werewhisked summarily against the cockpit door. Then all was still.

  Hal straightened up as best he could. His head felt bruised and when helooked at his hands they were covered with blood. Aghast, he saw that itcame from Rodriguez, who was lying quite still beside him in a pool ofblood. An ugly gash had severed the fellow’s dark throat—his lips weregray.

  Hal tumbled about in getting out his handkerchief from his back pocket,for the tail of the ship was in mid-air, and he was all confused. But hemanaged to bandage the pilot’s throat temporarily and set about rubbinghis wrists. At that juncture an ominous smell floated by with the junglebreeze.

  “Ship’s caught afire, all right,” he muttered, as a small spiral of bluesmoke floated past the shattered window at his elbow.

  Hal was out of it in a moment, jumping down into the soggy ground andpulling the unconscious Rodriguez after him. A rumble sounded throughthe plane and the next second it was enveloped in high, shooting flames.

  Hal stumbled and tripped, sinking into mire over his ankles. But hemanaged to drag Rodriguez’ heavy, inert body along, dodging andtrampling down bushes, creepers, and clinging vines that grew in thelittle spaces between the tree trunks.

  HAL MANAGED TO DRAG RODRIGUEZ’ HEAVY, INERT BODY ALONG.]

  After what seemed an endless journey to him, he came at last to a sortof eminence, a tiny area of higher ground that showed evidences ofhaving been a former human habitation. The jungle, however, wasbeginning to reclaim it, for the whole space was covered with asubstantial growth.

  Hal looked about thoughtfully, but seeing that it was the only suitablespot in sight, he lay Rodriguez down carefully. After that he huntedaround them for a few sticks of wood and started a fire to keep away themosquitoes.

  That done, he set about trying to revive the pilot and after a tryingfive minutes saw his eyelids flicker, then open.

  “It’s I, Rodriguez! _Keen!_ We’re here—_safe_! How you feeling?”

  The fellow seemed to understand perfectly, for he nodded and a look ofhope came into the black eyes that were so filled with fear not fifteenminutes before. Hal noted that his lips, however, were an ashen gray.

  “You saved the plane—yes?” Rodriguez muttered weakly.

  “Nope,” Hal answered, shaking his head vigorously. “It’s up insmoke—fire. We should worry though, huh? We’re saved, anyhow.”

  Rodriguez smiled feebly and lifted his head, looking around, interested.Suddenly he put his hand to his bandaged throat and a terrifiedexpression filled his eyes.

  “Is it danger—no?” he asked Hal.

  “No,” Hal lied. “You’ve just got a bad cut, Rodriguez. You’ve lost a lotof blood. Just lie still and take it easy. I’ll get some more wood tokeep these pesky mosquitoes away.”

  “The glass she cut me—no?” He seemed to be obsessed by his wound.

  “I’ll say she did. That’s why I wanted you to lie face down as I did. Iknew we were in for something.”

  “I feel weak like baby.”

  “I’m sorry, old fellow,” said Hal sincerely. “I’m sorry we couldn’t letyou take the chute and escape all this, but it wouldn’t have beensporting. _Understand?_”

  The pilot nodded weakly. He even smiled.

  “I was not frightened for death so much, Señor Hal. More I wasfrightened for myself—my sins.”

  Hal frowned until his freckled brow wrinkled into one deep channelbetween his bright blue eyes. Then a light of understanding spread overhis fair face and he smiled.

  “Oh, you mean your religion, huh, Rodriguez?” he asked. “You mean youwere afraid of your sins in case you did die, huh?”

  Rodriguez made the sign of the cross and his dark-skinned hands felllimply to his sides.

  “Yes, yes, Señor. My sins were many—too many to die a peaceful death,Señor. I would have to tell you....” He closed his eyes and seemed todoze off.

  Hal shrugged his shoulders and got up. He could hear the burning planesnapping and cracking against its steel frame. Its acrid fumes carriedon the breeze even to where he stood and hung heavily on the air in ablue haze.

  A monkey scolded sharply from a near-by tree and instinctively Halpicked up a piece of dead limb and swung it at him.

  “Can’t you see there’s a sick boy here who needs sleep!” he stagewhispered to the animal above them.

  The monkey stared down with an almost sad expression on its little oldface. Then after he scolded some more he swung along to the oppositebranch and was soon swallowed up in the dense foliage.

  Hal continued to gather more wood after that, looking at his patient atfive-minute intervals. But Rodriguez slept on, despite the fact that afresh bandage had been adjusted—the pilot’s own handkerchief.

  It was almost dark in the dense forest before Hal stopped. His pile ofwood had become quite high—enough to do them for the long night, hethought, as he sat down on it to have a smoke.

  A parrot screeched somewhere in the distance, the jungle teemed withlife and sound, and yet it seemed to Hal he had never sat in suchoppressive silence before. Suddenly, to his great delight, Rodriguezawakened and, noting the glow of their campfire, smiled.

  “Ah, it is comfort, the fire,” he sighed. “You know the jungle—no?”

  “Yes,” Hal answered with a cheerful smile. “I’ve been in Panama—yes. Iknow the jungle.”

  “Ah,” the pilot sighed weakly and closed his eyes again.

  Hal glanced at him quickly and a fear asserted itself. Rodriguez’ throatwas still bleeding profusely—the fellow’s face had a ghastly look in thefirelight.

  Did it mean death?

  CHAPTER XI A VIGIL

  The black vault of heaven with its twinkling stars could be seen innarrow strips through the entangled tops of closely growing trees. Hallooked up at it longingly from time to time and wondered if a searchingparty did come flying overhead, whether or not they would be
able topenetrate the dense screen and see them.

  Their campfire, though piled so high, seemed pitifully inadequate forsuch a purpose, and he experienced a sinking sensation in his stomachwhen he thought how much less it could be seen in the daylight. Too,Carmichael might not be any better off than they. Parachutes very oftenfailed one. Perhaps it would have been better if they had all stuck andtaken their chances together. Rodriguez was in such a bad way.... Halhad long ago given up trying to stop the bleeding. But he felt sohopeless about it, so helpless. There seemed nothing for him to do butsit and wait.

  He leaned over to the woodpile from time to time, replenishing theblaze. Sometimes Rodriguez would sigh, then sink into a deeper sleepthan before. Hal was always hoping that the sleep was doing him good,but it occurred to him after a time that the pilot’s strength was slowlyebbing and that it wasn’t slumber, but a torpor which held him in itsgrip.

  His heart went out to the young man and he completely forgave him hiscowardice. Certainly Rodriguez was getting the worst of it. Perhaps itwas true that he had feared the consequences of his sins more than hisactual departure from life. Hal shrugged his shoulders at thethought—the Latin temperament was indeed strange.