CHAPTER XXI

INTO THE DEPTHS

“What’s that?”

“Where’s my gun?”

“Get ready, everybody!”

“Turn on all the lights!”

These were only a few of the shouts that greeted Bob’s cry of warning. It was Jerry who thought to switch on the incandescents, illuminating the interior of the motorship, which had hitherto been in darkness. Every member of the party, save Bob, had fallen into a weary slumber.

The two Westerners, from long habit, had reached out for their weapons on the instant of opening their eyes, but the boys were not so trained. True, Bob had a gun, but he had left it in the pilot house when he went for a drink of water.

The yells of the Indians outside increased. Very likely, since they might have raised their voices in shouts at some Wild West show, with which they may have been connected, this was the first time, in many years, that they had given vent to the warwhoop; save perhaps in some tribal ceremonies. But now they were using their lungs to their full power.

“Come on!” cried Bob, in desperation. “We’ve got to fight ’em!” He was not a little worried lest his slight dereliction from duty should be held to be responsible for the surprise. But he need not have alarmed himself, since it was likely that no one could have seen the redmen sneak up amid that dense growth of forest.

“Hark!” cried Jim Nestor, as he sprang out of his bunk, with ready gun.

The airship seemed to vibrate to several thuds.

“They’re boarding us!” exclaimed Jerry.

“And they’re not firing a shot!” came from Harvey Brill. “Boys, I see what this means! They’re trying to scare us, but they haven’t got nerve enough to use their guns. Maybe this is only part of the band, that has sneaked off without the chief knowing it, to get what they can from us. Come on! We’ll give ’em a warm reception!”

He leaped to a window, flung it open and began discharging his weapon, taking care to aim in the air so as not to hit any of the Indians by accident. Yells greeted the shot from his rifle, but Mr. Brill knew what he was doing, and felt sure he had hit no one.

“That’s the way!” yelled Jim Nestor. “Maybe we can scare ’em off!”

He, too, began firing, an example followed by Bob and Ned. The yelling increased in intensity, and the thuds on the deck of the _Comet_ continued, showing that more of the savages were climbing over the rail, which offered a slight obstacle.

Suddenly the door of the cabin was pushed open, and one of the blanketed braves leaped in. He had no weapon, but, seeing some shining tools that Ned and Jerry had been using on the rudder that day, he made a grab for them, evidently thinking them of great value.

“Hi! Drop those!” yelled Jerry.

“Indian take!” grunted the redman, as he rushed out again.

“There’s a score of ’em!” cried Harvey Brill, as he looked out and saw the Indians in the glare of the searchlight. “Oh, if we could only get out of this! We don’t want to hurt any of ’em, for it will mean trouble, and yet we can’t let ’em strip us! Can we go up, Jerry!”

“Yes!” cried the tall lad. “We’ll take a chance. There’s no wind, and we can manage without the rudder. We’ll go up as a balloon! Ned--Bob! Start the gas machine!”

The two lads, dropping their guns, rushed to the engine room. Jerry hurried to the pilot house where he saw that all was in readiness for a quick flight. For, though the _Comet_ could not ascend as an aeroplane, owing to the broken rudder, it could still rise as a balloon.

The two Westerners were rapidly firing their rifles, taking care to aim high, hoping to intimidate the Indians by the seeming danger. And, in a measure, they succeeded. Several of the redmen leaped off the motorship, and disappeared in the woods. Others, more bold, laid hands on whatever they could find in the half-darkness out on deck, and ran off. Still others penetrated to the interior of the craft. But not one had a weapon. This the boys thought very strange until later they learned that Chief Standing Horse, fearing that some of his followers might try to take revenge on the whites for the bear incident, had confiscated the arms of the younger members of his party, giving them in charge of the older, and more trusted warriors of his tribe.

“Are you ready, Ned?” called Jerry to his chum.

“All right,” was the answer.

“Then start her going, and we’ll go up!”

It was just beginning to get daylight when there came a tremor through the whole length of the _Comet_. Jerry had cast off the anchor ropes, and as the powerful gas filled the bag she tore loose from the earth and shot upward.

There was a cry of surprise and terror from the Indians still aboard, and the rapid running of feet across the deck told of a rush to leap off before the craft went too high.

As it was, several had to drop off from a considerable distance, and in the dawn of the morning our friends saw many of the Indians limping into the forest.

“I guess we’ve taught them a lesson,” remarked Jerry, when the motorship was clear of the earth, and the last Indian had dropped off.

“That’s right!” chimed in Ned, who had kept the gas machine going at full capacity. “They got a lot of stuff that we may need, but we’re lucky even so.”

“They didn’t get into the kitchen!” exclaimed Bob, proudly. “I had a lot of pies there, and if they’d taken them----”

“Oh, for cats’ sake, Chunky!” cried Jerry. “Is that all you can think of now?”

“Well, why not?” asked the stout lad. “We’re all right; aren’t we?”

And they were, when they came to take an account of themselves. Little damage had been done to the craft, and only a few articles were missing. They were now well up in the air, drifting along before a gentle wind.

“We’ll drift along until we see a good place to land, and then we’ll go down,” said Jerry.

“Not near here, though,” stipulated Jim Nestor.

“Well, I guess not!” exclaimed Ned.

Luckily they were able to land in a large clearing, many miles from where the Indians had attacked them, and, as they were now over the Canadian border--a fact ascertained by seeing some boundary pillars as they crossed--they had no further fear of the Blackfeet.

“But it was a hot time while it lasted,” said Bob, who explained how the attack had come about.

Breakfast was served, and then the motor boys proceeded to finish work on the rudder. Professor Snodgrass, who had taken no part in the repulse of the Indians, save to gather his books and specimen boxes in readiness for instant flight, resumed his collecting.

The two Westerners devoted themselves to making a tour of the surrounding country, to look for possible hostile signs, but found none. Then they managed to get some small game for Bob to cook.

The rudder repairs were finished that day, and a test of the _Comet_ showed it to be under perfect control.

“Now for the valley of the sixty nuggets of gold!” cried Jerry, when they were ready to start off again.

For two days they circled about, looking for some landmark that would indicate to Mr. Brill the beginning of the big earth gash where he had hidden his wealth. They saw, one evening, a fantastically piled mound of red rock that showed plainly even from a great height.

“There it is!” cried the prospector. “The valley begins right there!”

“Then we’ll go down, and camp for to-night,” decided Jerry, “and in the morning we’ll make the descent.”

The morning dawned, clear and beautiful. After an early breakfast they went aloft in the _Comet_, which could now be guided better than ever.

“That’s the valley!” cried Harvey Brill, as they got above the depths. “Now to see if I can find my gold after the landslide!”

It was a wild and desolate gash in the earth--a great valley in the midst of towering mountain peaks. In very truth nothing but an airship or a balloon could have entered it as it was now.

“Well, here we go, boys!” said Jerry, a trifle solemnly, as he tilted the deflecting rudder.

All about them were rugged peaks, some snow-capped, others, not so high, covered with a dense forest growth. Below them lay the mysterious and silent valley that hid the wealth of gold.

Would they find it?

Everyone asked himself that question as the _Comet_ descended into the depths.