The Saddle Boys in the Grand Canyon Part 16

Half an hour later they were once more in front of the hotel, and interviewing a guide who had been recommended by the manager as an experienced canyon man. It ended in their making terms with John Henry, as the fellow gave his name; though of course Frank was too wise to tell him what their real object was in exploring the tremendous gap. That could come later on.

At about nine o'clock they started down the trail that led from Grand View into the depths of the fearful dip. And as they descended, following their guide, Bob found himself realizing the colossal size of everything connected with the rainbow-hued canyon walls.

Nor was his mind made any easier when Frank took occasion, half an hour later, to bend toward him, and say in the most natural manner possible, though in low tones:

"They're on the job again, Bob--Abajo and Eugene--because I happened to see them watching us start down the trail; and they had some one along with them, perhaps a guide; so we'll have to take it for granted that they mean to dog us all the time, hoping to steal our thunder, if we make any lucky find!"

CHAPTER XIV

THE HOME OF THE CLIFF DWELLERS

Although Bob had antic.i.p.ated such a thing, still the knowledge that it was actually coming to pa.s.s gave him a thrill. For some little time he did not say anything; but Frank could see him look uneasily up at the walls that now arose sheer above their heads some hundreds of feet.

Frank had studied the situation as well as he could, both from a map of the canyon which he found in the little guide book, and his own observations. All the while he kept before him that admission on the part of the old Moqui whom they had befriended, to the effect that the Westering sun shone full in Echo Cave. So he expected to find the home of the hermit-scientist high up in the wall on the Eastern side of the Grand Canyon.

First he intended heading toward the East, and going just as far as they could. Days, and perhaps weeks, might be spent in the search for the strange cave that had once been the home of those mysterious cliff people, which cavern Professor Oswald was occupying while studying the lives and customs of the long departed people who had dug these dwellings out of the rock.

At noon they had made good progress; but when the tremendous size of that two hundred mile canyon was taken into consideration, with its myriad of side "washes," and minor canyons, the distance that they had covered was, as Bob aptly declared, but a "flea-bite" compared with the whole.

And Frank declared time and again it had been a lucky thought that caused his chum to suggest that they bring the field gla.s.ses along. They were in almost constant use. Far distant scenes were brought close, and high walls could be examined in a way that must have been impossible with the naked eye.

Of course Frank was particularly anxious to scrutinize every colored wall that faced the West. The rainbow tints so plainly marked, tier above tier, called out expressions of deep admiration from the two lads; but all the while they were on the watch for something besides.

When Frank ranged that powerful gla.s.s along the ragged face of a towering cliff he was looking eagerly for signs of openings such as marked the windows of the homes fas.h.i.+oned by the strange people of a past age.

During the afternoon they actually discovered such small slits in the rock--at least they looked like pencil markings to them when the guide first pointed out the village of the ancient cliff dwellers; though on closer acquaintance they found that the openings were of generous size.

"Shall we climb up that straggly path along the face of the wall, and see what the old things look like?" asked Bob, as the guide made motions upward.

"Yes, we ought to have our first sight of such places," Frank replied, in a cautious tone. "Not that I expect we're going to find our hermit there, or in any other village that's known to tourist travel. But we ought to get an idea of what these places are like, you see. Then we'll know better what to expect. And perhaps the conditions will teach us how to discover _his_ hiding place."

Accordingly they started to climb upward, just as many other tourists had been doing for years. There were even places, "aisles of safety,"

Bob called them, where one who was ascending, upon happening to meet a descending investigator, could squeeze into a hole in the rock until the other had slipped by.

Of course it was a risky climb, and no lightheaded person could ever dream of taking it. But the two saddle boys were possessed of good nerves and able to look downward toward the bottom of the canyon, even when several hundred feet up in the air.

Then they entered the first hole. It seemed to be a fair-sized apartment, and was connected with a string of others, all running along the face of the cliff; so that those who occupied them in the long ago might have air and light.

The boys observed everything with the ordinary curiosity expected of newcomers. Frank even investigated to see if there were any signs to indicate that those old dwellers in the canyon knew about the use of fire; and soon decided that it was so.

"Well, what do you think about this?" Bob asked, after they had roamed from one room to another. "For my part I think I'd fancy living in one of those three story adobe houses of the Hopi Indians, we saw pictures of at the hotel; or even a Navajo hogan. But one thing sure, these people never had to worry about leaking roofs."

"No," added Frank, laughing; "and floods couldn't bother them, because the Colorado never rose three hundred feet since it began cutting out this canyon."

"And think of the grand view they had before their doors, with the canyon in places as much as thirteen miles across, and mountains in their dooryard, looking like anthills," Bob went on impressively.

"Makes a fellow feel mighty small; doesn't it?" Frank remarked, as he stepped to a window to look out again.

"Makes me feel that I want to get down again to the trail," admitted Bob. "I'm wondering whether it's going to be much harder getting back than it was coming up."

"That's always the case," Frank declared, "as I've found out myself when climbing up a steep cliff. But the guide is ready for you, Bob, if you show signs of getting dizzy. You have seen that he carries a rope along, just like the Swiss guides do."

"Oh! come, Frank! Go easy with me; can't you?" the other exclaimed. "I hope I'm not quite so bad as that."

"All the same, Bob, don't take any chances; and if you feel the least bit giddy, let me know. This is a case where an ounce of prevention is better than a pound of cure. And a stout rope is a mighty good thing to feel when your foot slips."

It turned out, however, that the Kentucky lad was as sure-footed as a mountain goat. He descended the trail, with its several ladders, placed there of course by modern investigators, without the least show of timidity.

They continued along the bed of the wide canyon. At times they followed the ordinary trail. Then again Frank would express a desire to have a closer look at some high granite wall that hovered, for possibly a thousand feet, above the very river itself; and this meant that they must negotiate a pa.s.sage for themselves.

No doubt John Henry, the guide, must have thought them the queerest pair of tourists he had ever led through the mysteries of the Grand Canyon.

But as yet Frank had not thought fit to enlighten him. He was not altogether pleased with the appearance of the guide, and wished to wait until he knew a little more about his ways, before entrusting him with their secret.

More than a few times during that day Frank believed he had positive evidence that they were being watched. Of course they met frequent parties of pilgrims wandering this way and that, as they drank in the tremendous glories of the canyon; but occasionally the boy believed he had seen a head thrust out from behind some rock in their rear, and then hastily withdrawn again as he looked.

Of course he could make a guess as to who was taking such a interest in the progress of his chum and himself. No one, save Eugene Warringford, would bother for even a minute about what they were doing, since richer quarry by far than a couple of boys would catch the eye of any lawless desperado, like those the two sheriffs were following, bent on making a haul.

"Frank," said Bob, when the afternoon was drawing to a close, and they had begun to think of picking out the spot where they would spend the night; "tell me why you chose to head toward the East instead of the other way, where Bright Angel trail attracts so many tourists?"

Frank cast one glance toward the guide, as if to make sure that John Henry was far enough in advance not to be able to catch what was said.

"I had a reason, Bob," he remarked, seriously. "Before we got down into the canyon, so as to choose which way we would go, I talked with several men who were coming up. And Bob, I learned that an old Moqui Indian had been seen heading toward the East late last night!"

"And you think it may have been our friend, Havasupai?" asked Bob.

"I'm pretty sure of it, from the descriptions they gave me," came the answer.

"But Frank, think how impossible it seems that he could have reached here almost as soon as we did; unless the old warrior was able to fly I don't see how it could be done."

"I'm just as much up a tree as you are, Bob," laughed the other; "but, all the same, I believe the Moqui has arrived, and is on his way right now to where Echo Cave lies."

"Then he must have an aeroplane to help him out, for I don't see how else he could make it," Bob insisted.

"Think for a minute, and you'll see it isn't actually impossible," Frank continued. "He could have made Flagstaff that night, just as we did."

"Yes," admitted Bob, "that's a fact; for while he said he was tired, and wanted a mount to fly from his people, who were looking for him, still I understand that these Moquis are wonderful runners, and game to the last drop of the hat. Oh! I grant you that he could have made Flagstaff that night sometime."

"Well, Flagstaff is on the railroad, you know," Frank remarked.

"Sure! I see now what you are hitting at," Bob observed; "the old Indian must have had money, as all his kind have, what with the tips given by tourists day after day. He could have come to Grand View on the train.

Frank, once more I knuckle down to your superior wisdom. That's what Havasupai must have done, sure pop!"

"Anyhow," the other continued, "it pleases me to believe so; and that the Moqui is even now hurrying to make connections with the hermit in this mysterious Echo Cave. There's still another reason, though, why I picked out this course up the river, instead of going down. It is connected with the fact that the Moquis have their homes in this quarter."

"Oh!" exclaimed Bob, "I catch on now to what you mean. The chances are that the Moqui would be prowling around within fifty miles of his own shack when he ran across the man-with-the-s.h.i.+ning-spot-in-his-head, otherwise the bald Professor Oswald."