CHAPTER XVIII
FREE AND AFLOAT AT LAST
This is what had happened.
At the time of the rain storm, two days before, Buck and hiscavalcade were in camp on the bank of the dry Chusco, sixty milesnorth of Clarkeville. The experienced scout knew that a watersupply was now assured, and he at once followed prearranged ordersby instructing Bob to return with the smaller wagon. This was a sadblow to the young reporter, but it was a part of his contract and heknew that it was his duty to obey. And with necessity before him,he acted promptly. Emptying the heavy casks, Bob started on theback trail at five the following morning, and by night had madethirty miles with the light wagon. All day he wondered if it mightnot be possible to reach Clarkeville again before the Cibola sailed.
The next morning, spurred on by the hope that he might do this, hestarted at daybreak. By the middle of the morning he was on the oldwagon trail and making better time. Some time after two o'clock hecame up over the rise of the last foothills and saw, eight milesaway, the glistening shape which he at once knew was the inflatedballoon. He hesitated a moment and then, unhitching the horses,mounted one bareback and began a dash for the town. The animalswere tired and worn, and progress was slow, but it beat walking, andBob urged them on.
As the young reporter came nearer and the balloon grew more distincthe knew that it would be a close call. From time to time as thewinded horses dropped into a walk Bob wondered why he was makingsuch a race. "I can't go with them," he argued. But, like thetrained reporter, he decided that no effort was wasted that gave himnew information. And it was something out of the ordinary to seethe most complete balloon ever made start on a mysterious flightinto the wilderness.
So he spurred up the horses anew. The hot sun reflected from theyellow sands burnt his face and his muscles were sore, but he stuckto it. When half a mile from the town he could see the boys on thebridge of the Cibola. When a quarter of a mile away he decided thathe could beat the horses by going afoot, and, throwing himself tothe ground, he ran onward, knowing that the tired animals wouldfollow. Out of breath he reached the edge of the town and stumbledon toward the corral.
With head down he plunged forward. Almost at his goal he threw hishead up for breath just in time to notice a kneeling man with arifle at his shoulder.
"Hey!" yelled Bob with what breath he had.
Then he saw that the man was aiming directly at the balloon swayingabove the nearby corral fence. He also recognized the man instantlyas one of the sullen court spectators, and Jellup's crony. Therifleman dropped the muzzle of his gun and turned.
"I guess I am something of a gun man," explained Bob later to theboys, "for I had that new revolver of mine on the 'greaser' before Iknew what I was doing myself. I didn't even then realize what hewas about to do. But I had the drop on him and when I figured outthat he meant to put a hole in the balloon, why, I just had himright. And here he is."
Alan looked at Ned. Both boys were puzzled. A few moment's talkwith Russell explained the whole situation. The balloon was readyand the relief expedition was undoubtedly now in camp awaiting them.It needed only the words and they would be off with the inquisitivereporter left safely behind. And yet the word did not come. Nedand Alan stood looking at Bob, and the reporter gazed in turn at thebeautiful straining car. Bob's face was a study. He had now madesome return to Ned for possibly saving his own life, but none of theboys was thinking of that. In Bob's fine young face was the longingof a child. In Ned's and Alan's faces were the traces of boyishsympathy.
The young aeronauts were very close to each other and all weresilent. Then Alan turned slowly to Ned and with a little quaver inhis voice whispered, "Shall we?"
Ned made no answer. A smile lit up his face and he sprang down thelittle ladder into the engine cabin followed by his chum. Almostinstantly the trap door in the floor of the car dropped down. Amoment later three fifty-pound sacks of ballast tumbled through thedoor to the ground beneath. The bag tugged and strained as Nedreappeared above.
"Hurry up, Bob, if you're going with us," he said quietly, leaningover the net of the bridge, "and close the door as you come up."
Bob hesitated, as if he had not heard aright, but then heunderstood, and with tears in his eyes be sprang forward. There wasa jar and Ned knew the new passenger was aboard.
"All ready?" he called sharply from the bridge.
"Aye, aye, captain," came in a choking but jubilant voice from theinside of the cabin.
"Stand by, everybody," sharply ordered Ned. And then, as Bob'sshoulders appeared through the hatchway, the commander of the airship gave a final look about.
"Let go all," he cried sharply. "Everybody!"
For a moment only one clinging workman careened the buoyant craftand then, straight up, the Cibola bounded like a rubber ball.
"Good-bye, all," came from Ned, cap in hand, as he leaned from thebridge.
There were cheers from below and the Cibola was at last free andafloat.
"Sit down here and keep quiet," sharply ordered Ned as Bob crawledout on deck. Then the commander of the balloon disappeared below.
There were almost immediately several sharp, muffled explosions, andthen the white propeller began to turn. The balloon was driftingquickly toward the northwest and rising--Bob could see its shadowfollowing on the sandy plain. Then the arms of the propeller turnedfaster and faster and a velvet whirr in the cabin showed that theengine was falling to work. As the propeller blades settled into asteady hum the vibration of the car indicated increased speed. ThisBob could also detect from the more swiftly flying shadow.
The shadow was also growing smaller, and this meant that the Cibolawas still ascending. Now the shadow paused and turned. Alan hadthrown the rudder over and the balloon had responded instantly. Theaeroplane arms stretched out horizontally on each side of the car.Ned, reappearing, took a quick look at the altitude gauge and againdisappeared. The aeroplane arms dipped in front almost forty-fivedegrees and the current, blown back by the propeller, struck themwith a jar. The craft again responded and slowly took a downwardslant.
Propeller, rudder and aeroplane being at work, Ned again appeared.
"Go below," he ordered sharply, "and bear a hand when needed."
Bob did so. Alan was on the pilot platform with his hands on thewheel controlling the rudder wires. His eyes were fixed straightahead.
"See that lever," he said, jerking his head to the left.
Bob quickly discovered the aeroplane guider control and sprang toit.
"Wait for orders," added Alan.