The Boy Scouts at the Panama Canal Part 26

"Wait a minute. I'll see," cried Rob, and then the next instant, "The driving chain has snapped!"

"Throw out the anchor before we drift any more," cried Mr. Mainwaring.

This was done and then Rob set about making an investigation. As he had declared, the driving chain, which drove the stern wheel just as a bicycle sprocket is revolved, had parted in the middle. Undoubtedly the strain that had been placed on it when they were backing the launch off had proved too much for its strength.

They regarded the accident with some dismay.

"Great Scotland! That means we are stuck," exclaimed Merritt.

"Unquestionably, unless we can make some repairs," admitted Mr.

Mainwaring.

"Do you think you can fix it, Rob?" asked Mr. Raynor.

"I might manage to make a temporary link out of wire," replied Rob, "but I'm afraid it wouldn't hold long against the current."

"Isn't there a spare chain in the tool locker?" asked Merritt.

Mr. Mainwaring shook his head.

"There's nothing for it but to turn back and get a new link forged," he said. "Too bad!"

"It is indeed," agreed Rob. "Shall I make a link out of steel wire? I guess that would be strong enough to carry us down with the stream if we go slowly."

"Yes, do so," was the reply. "Merritt, will you sound the return whistle for Bob Hopkins and Fred?"

Merritt pulled the cord connecting with the compressed air whistle and tugged it l.u.s.tily. Then he paused and blew again, keeping this up for some time. No reply had come; but as yet they felt no anxiety. It was likely that the boys would take some time in returning, and the possibility of their being out of ear-shot of the whistle did not occur to any of the party.

But when an hour had pa.s.sed and then another dragged its slow length away without bringing any signs of the absentees, anxiety gave place to alarm and alarm to genuine fear that harm might have overtaken them. They looked blankly at each other. For a time no one spoke.

Suddenly, from a great distance as it seemed, there came the sound of a rifle shot.

Had they but known it, the sound was caused by Tubby's shot at the band of monkeys. Although ignorant of its cause, it made the dismayed little party's spirits pick up a bit to hear at least some sound of the two young hunters, even though they knew that they must be some distance off.

"Raynor," ordered Mr. Mainwaring, "I don't know whether that shot was merely a signal that they are coming, or a signal of distress. In any event I am going ash.o.r.e. Rob, you may come with me if you like. Bring your rifle. Merritt, you keep guard with Mr. Raynor."

The engineer merely nodded in answer to his chief's orders. Merritt looked rather disappointed. He would have liked to accompany the searchers, but as he knew that was impossible he put the best face possible on the matter and helped Rob and Mr. Mainwaring to get ash.o.r.e by means of the plank.

Almost instantly the jungle swallowed them up. As they vanished from sight, Raynor sighed. Merritt looking up saw that he looked distressed.

He ventured to ask him what was the matter.

"I don't just know why, my boy, but I've got an idea that the lads are in trouble in the woods yonder," he said. "I don't like the idea of that distant shot."

"You--you don't think that there are any Indians off in the forest, do you?" asked Merritt, turning a shade paler.

"I don't think anything. I don't want to say anything till I'm sure; but we're not so far from San Blas country that a wandering hunting party might not happen along through the forest. They have the jungle honeycombed with paths known only to themselves."

"But supposing--just supposing that the boys did fall in with them, would the Indians do them any harm?"

"Impossible to say, Merritt. This I do know, however, that the Indians'

minds have been worked on by those who are opposed to the ca.n.a.l until they have been taught to regard all white men as their enemies. They have been told that the making of the ca.n.a.l will flood out their hunting grounds and drive them into remoter parts of the country. Naturally, they regard white men with suspicion and hatred."

While this conversation was going on, Mr. Mainwaring, whose face was sadly troubled, and his young companion, had been pus.h.i.+ng their way through the jungle. Fortunately the trail of Tubby and Fred was pretty well marked where they had shoved their way through the underbrush.

Finally they came to the spot where the two boys had met with the serpent. Rob examined the ground with the instinct of a true scout and skillful trapper. Traces of a sudden stoppage and a precipitate flight off into the jungle were plainly visible.

But what had caused the boys to beat such a rapid retreat was by no means so plain.

"Can you make out anything, Rob?" asked Mr. Mainwaring, after a pause.

"No, sir," said Rob perplexedly, "except that something appears to have frightened them just at this point. You can see by their footmarks in this soft mud that they were running fast when they made off. And see here, sir, where one of them fell and scrambled up again, going on as quickly as before."

"Jove, you can read all that in those tracks?"

"That's part of the Boy Scout training, sir," rejoined Rob modestly.

"It's wonderful! Wonderful! But tell me, can you see the signs of any wild beasts?"

"Not one. That's what makes it so mysterious. It is plain that something was after them and yet there are no tracks."

"Well, we had better follow up the trail they have left through the jungle. That is our only course, in fact."

On and on they pursued the trail, going slowly of necessity. Here they would lose the trail for a time and then again in a few minutes Rob's cleverness as a Scout would pick it up again by means of a broken blade of gra.s.s or a creeper that had been brushed aside. Never had the young leader's well-trained faculties been more on the alert than now as he followed his chum's trail through the trackless jungle.

And all the while poor Tubby and Fred were wandering further and further from them. At length they reached the open s.p.a.ce where the boys had paused a while and Tubby had shot at the monkeys overhead. All at once Rob darted forward. On the ground he had spied a bra.s.s sh.e.l.l. They examined it and found that it tallied with the caliber of Tubby's rifle, but beyond this there was no further clue.

Suddenly Rob gave a cry of delight. He eagerly examined what appeared to Mr. Mainwaring to be nothing more than a clump of pampas gra.s.s slightly bent over to the left. But Rob's quick eye had caught sight of a band of gra.s.s tied round its top just below the bend. To an ordinary person's eye this would have meant nothing. But to Rob, trained in scouting, it meant that the two lads they were pursuing had turned to the left.

On they went again, never flagging through the hot noonday, but patiently picking up the trail as they went along. Now a scratch on the bark of a limb would show Rob the direction, presently some trampled gra.s.s or flowers led him on, again he would stumble on one of Tubby's stone or gra.s.s signs.

All the time the trail kept getting fresher. Their hopes rose high.

"We're catching up on them," cried Rob. "It's slow but sure; we're catching up."

Presently they stood in the s.p.a.ce under the tall trees where Tubby and Fred had paused and where the San Blas Indians had surprised them. Rob, like a pointer dog, went rapidly hither and thither, crouched low, looking for the tiny signs which mean so little to an untrained and so much to a carefully educated eye.

Suddenly he gave a sharp cry. It brought Mr. Mainwaring to his side in an instant.

"Look, sir! Here in this soft earth! The print of bare feet! Very small bare feet! What does it mean?"

"Indians!" exclaimed Mr. Mainwaring, his face working. "The trail ends here, Rob. Oh, my poor boy! My poor boy!"

And, quite overcome, Mr. Mainwaring sank down on the same log on which, had he but known it, his son Fred had collapsed but a short time before.

It was a long time that he sat there with his head buried in his hands, and when he raised his face Rob saw that it was white and strangely drawn, but full of determination.

"What are we to do, sir?" demanded Rob. "I'm afraid that, as you say, there is no doubt they have been carried off; but luckily, I see no signs of a struggle. Perhaps there is hope."

Mr. Mainwaring had said nothing and Rob had not told him of his discovery of a spear that still stuck in the tree into which it had darted quivering above Tubby's head. He could not find it in his heart to increase Mr. Mainwaring's distress, and, agitated as he himself was, Rob had still thoughtfulness enough not to add to another's burdens.

Presently he repeated his question.