CHAPTER XVII
IN SIGHT OF THE ENEMY
The following Monday morning, Herb telephoned that the marauder hadagain appeared at the Phipps ranch, and had killed off three of thefold, carrying one away.
It was decided, therefore, to proceed at once with the hunt, and, whenthe capture of the thief had been accomplished, to continue theinstruction of the boys.
"Dad thinks the best way to begin is to watch around the fold at nighttill the thing appears," said Herb.
His suggestion was adopted, and that night the Fort Bayard boys andHawke flew at dusk to the Bread Pudding ranch. It was not their firsttrip to the B. P. in the new plane; in fact, it had become quite amatter of course to drop in on Mr. Phipps, and, as the latter expressedit, "tie the bird outside."
The full moon had waned and should a chase be necessary they would beobliged to rely entirely on the acetylene lamps which, however, had beenwell tried out. They were not to be lit, however, until needed, lest thelight should frighten away the enemy.
Hawke, Herb, Gray, Fred, Fly and Jerry remained near the plane, whichwas stationed just inside the wire fence enclosing the sheepfold. Carland Dunk went to the other side of the pasture, while Mr. Phipps and oneof his herders took up their position near the entrance gate. Betweenthem all, they hoped to get a glimpse of the unwelcome visitor. If Hawkeor his companions sighted him first they were to give instant chase inthe plane, if they could not shoot him, which would be practicallyimpossible in the dark. The others agreed to wave their lanterns if theywere the first to come in contact with the mysterious sheep stealer. Theplane would then be put into use.
Quietly but anxiously the pursuers watched, until, about nine o'clock,Jerry began to despair.
"Bet now we're ready for him the old guy won't turn up," he said,disappointedly.
"Don't worry," assured Herb. "Like as not he won't come 'round tillmidnight. That's his usual calling time."
"Regular New York swell," commented Gray.
"Wonder what kind of a thing it is," said Fred.
"I'm beginnin' to think it's a witch--never comes around in daylight,and nobody ever can get a peep at him," responded Jerry.
"We'll soon find out," returned Herb. "Least, I hope so."
"How near's Chance now?" suddenly interrogated Fred.
"He's within a couple day's run of us," responded Hawke. "Ought to passover here Tuesday or Wednesday."
"Gee, bet it'll take a fall out of him to see another plane bobbin'round here, won't it?" said Herb.
"We'll surprise him, all right," laughed Hawke. "He'll lose his bearingswhen he sees us put in our appearance. I'll find out the time he'scomin' and run him a race."
"He's clippin' off a good record," commented Fred, who had been readingthe papers. "Goin' to make it, I guess."
Talking thus the hours sped by until it was after eleven o'clock. Thenight descended thicker and blacker as time passed, and in the tensesilence, broken now and then by a tuneful bleat, the boys huddled closertogether and talked in hushed voices.
"We sure could hear the flutter of a wing," reflected Herb.
The next moment they were on their feet, scarcely suppressing a yell.Something had rushed directly over them, fanning the air like apropeller, but with less noise. Quick as thought they were in the plane,the lamps were flashed on and they had mounted into the air.
A huge flying bulk was just in front of them, and, as it swoopeddownward toward the sheep, a shout from Fred apparently startled it, forit rose again, and, whirling, circled rapidly above the fold.
"It's some kind of a flying monster all right," whispered Herbexcitedly.
Hawke had made a rapid semicircle and was flying swiftly in pursuit,but, as he had lost time in turning, the object had become a part of thedarkness and he could only steer in the direction in which it had seemedto be flying.
"Carl's waving his lantern," exclaimed Herb. "Must be over there."
Hawke veered quickly. The lamps, while shedding a bright glow for somedistance around the machine, did not throw their light very far ahead.
"There is it, under us," cried Fly. They could see a huge, black,floating mass, just beneath them.
Circling again and again it was with the utmost difficulty that theykept it in sight. At last, however, it struck a straight line for thecliffs.
"We can't get an aim if he keeps on swerving," said Herb.
"Steady, fellows," warned Hawke, for they had moved about, twisting intheir seats, to get a sight of the game. The plane was mounting steadilyhigher, and Hawke had reduced his speed, pursuing the enemy as well ashe could, for it had adopted a zigzag course, flying to right and leftand dipping up and down.
"I'm going to try a shot anyway," said Herb.
The others unconsciously left the shooting to the southerner, who, itwas naturally and rightly supposed, would be glad to bag the animal thathad given his father so much trouble.
Young Phipps took aim at the first good opportunity, and shot threetimes. It seemed to be without result, for the huge shape moved on,though its course became more uncertain than ever, and, although itseemed heading toward the mountain ranges, its flight was uneven andhap-hazard.
"We must be over the mountains now," said Fly, after a time.
"We're about 1,800 feet above level," responded Hawke.
At that moment the bird resumed its swift circles, flying downward.Pointing the nose of the plane toward the earth, Hawke followed it,making a thrilling spiral descent.
"Why, there's the old tower," cried Fred, when the plane had dropped farenough for its lights to play upon the surface below.
"And he's circling down for it," cried Fly.
"That's his roost, I'll bet," exclaimed Jerry.
"Then it must be the Thunder Bird Carl told about--the one you saw whenI tried to take that picture--the one that raised the storm," jabberedFred disjointedly.
"And the one the old Indian is after," put in Gray.
"Let him roost, and then we'll get him," suggested Herb.
But Hawke had altered his course, and was making swiftly in thedirection of home.
"Where you going?" shouted Fly in surprise. It had been necessary forthem to raise their voices considerably, for the mountain torrents weredistinctly heard below, while the noise of their own machine added madehearing difficult.
"We've got to get right back," responded the aviator, throwing on topspeed.
"What--what for?" yelled Gray. "We nearly had him."
"There's a wind rising, and I felt a splash of rain," returned theaviator. "We can't take chances over these peaks in a storm."
As if to corroborate his statement there was a distant rumble.
"Thunder," gasped Jerry breathlessly, for the speed of the machinealmost shut off his wind, and like the other boys he was clingingtightly to his seat.
"I felt rain then, too," shouted Herb.
Another rumble, louder than the first, sent thrills down their backs.
"It was the Thunder Bird all right," yelled Fred. "I told you I saw himthat day."
"We know where he lives now, though," returned Fly.
But they were dashing through space at such a terrific pace that speechbecame impossible. Hawke was bending every energy to beat the storm.Already the wind had risen considerably, and he was obliged toconcentrate his whole thought on the control of the machine.
"Make for the B. P.," requested Herb. "Dad'll be anxious to know how wecome out. We can--"
But the rest of his sentence was lost in a deafening roar, while a flashof lightning split the darkness and revealed, below them, the stretchesof pasture belonging to the Bread Pudding ranch.
While they had been obliged to give up when victory was within easyreach, the boys were more pleased than otherwise at the adventurous turnthings had taken. The flight by night, so eagerly anticipated, wasbecoming more exciting than they had expected.
Before they realized it, they had skidded down and stopped in front ofthe ranch-house. But they could on
ly pause long enough to allow Herb andGray to dismount, for it was necessary to reach the Fort as quickly aspossible and lodge the plane in its shed before the storm, whosethreatening voice was growing constantly louder, broke upon them.
The boys had no chance to exchange words with the rancher before, Carland Dunk having taken the place of Herb and Gray, they were whiskedupward again. And, though anxious to learn the result of theircompanion's flight, the Indian and his friend were obliged to waituntil, just in time, they had shoved the plane back into the hangar andrushed to the Crawford residence. They had scarcely reached the verandawhen the fury of the tempest was upon them.
"Whew!" ejaculated Hawke, breathing a deep sigh of relief. "That was arecord run. If I had made that at an aviation meet I'll bet they'd haveawarded me some kind of a medal."
He spoke lightly, and the boys never knew how wonderfully well he hadmade that flight. Not one aviator in a hundred would have been able toaccomplish it with such coolness and accuracy as Hawke had displayed.Perhaps, after they had themselves learned to fly, they realized theprecarious condition in which they had been that night and how much theyowed their safe return to Hawke.
They were greeted cordially by the captain when they arrived at theFort, who listened, with unfeigned interest, to their rapid recital ofthe evening's events.
"But we're goin' back to-morrow," said Fly, "and get him. For we knowwhere he roosts."
"Yes," said Hawke. "We must lose no time. We have the drop on him now,and I'll run you all up there in the morning. You can let Herb and Grayknow."
"Telegram for Mr. Hawke," announced Ike, appearing, dripping butsmiling, at the screen door.
"Well, what do you think of that!" exclaimed the aviator, his facesuddenly growing grave as he read the wire, and handed it to thecaptain, who was quickly surrounded by the boys.
"'Mexican insurrectos threaten invasion of Texas,'" read Jerry's father."'Come immediately. Take charge aviation corps. Urgent.'" The messagewas dated from Juarez, and was signed by General Marley, commander ofthe border troops.