The Motor Boys Over the Rockies; Or, A Mystery of the Air

by Clarence Young

  CHAPTER XXIII

  THE FLICKERING LIGHTS

  Wild and desolate was the region in which the adventurers now foundthemselves. They were in the midst of the mountains, seemingly with nocivilization near, yet they knew that within a few miles of them wasthe remains of an intrepid body of whites and a band of savage Indians.

  The airship was anchored in a comparatively level place, and Bob, asusual, prepared the meal. Jerry and Ned busied themselves about thecraft, making some minor adjustments to the machinery, and seeing thatit was in shape for quick service.

  "Have you thought how you are going to rescue those people, in case youcan get down into the valley?" asked Jim Nestor of Jerry.

  "Why, yes; go right down in the valley and get them," decided the talllad.

  "What about the Indians?"

  "We'll have to fight them, I suppose," added Ned.

  "There are quite a number," declared Mr. Bell. "If possible, it wouldbe better to do the rescue work quietly. The redmen may prove too manyfor us."

  "Yes, when you're dealing with an Indian, the quieter you can go aboutthings, the better," put in Tod. "Surprise 'em, if you can."

  "Well, I'll be guided by you, Mr. Bell and Mr. Nestor," replied Jerrydeferentially. "I admit I don't know much about fighting Indians."

  "Do you think you can get on this airship all the people you hope torescue?" asked Professor Snodgrass.

  "It depends on how many there are."

  "There can't be more than ten," answered Mr. Bell. "Mr. Loftus saidthere were fifteen left when he escaped. Some were so old and feeblethen that there was scarcely any hope for them. Not more than ten left,I should say."

  "I hope my cousin, Amos Deering, is among them," remarked the scientist.

  "He was alive and in good health when Mr. Loftus made his escape,"said the former hermit. "He was looked up to as a sort of chief by theIndians, who treated him better than they did the others, of whomthey made slaves, and compelled them to assist in some peculiar formof worship they have. I understood from Mr. Loftus that the Indiansvenerated a form of lizard."

  "A lizard!" exclaimed Professor Snodgrass. "You don't by any possiblechance mean a flying lizard, do you?"

  "That's exactly what Mr. Loftus said it was," came the unexpected replyfrom the aged man. "They worship a big flying lizard, of which thereare numbers in the valley. It is as sacred to them as the beetle was tothe Egyptians. There are many of them, and----"

  "Then I shall get my specimens, after all!" cried the littlebald-headed man. "Let us start for the valley at once!" and he jumpedto his feet in his excitement.

  "We can't see to do anything until morning," objected Tod. "Then we'llstart in."

  "Then I wish morning would come quickly," went on the professor, aseager as a child over a new toy. "I want a flying lizard very much."

  "Can the airship carry ten additional persons?" asked Jim Nestor ofJerry.

  "Yes, for a while, though of course we have not rations enough for thatnumber for very long."

  "You will not need do more than rescue them from the valley," said Mr.Bell eagerly. "I will take charge of them after that, and they can stayat my house. I can make room for them."

  "Well, if it proves to be true about the gold they discovered in thevalley," went on Nestor, "they can pay their own way."

  "I can't say that I take much stock in that gold business," came fromSledge Hammer Tod. "I've heard too many stories of gold in mysteriousvalleys, and generally they were fakes."

  "I believe there is gold in Lost Valley, and that the prisoners havesome," insisted Mr. Bell firmly. "Whether we will be able to rescuethem or not is another matter."

  They talked until far into the night of what lay before them, and then,as they expected to have a hard day of adventures when the sun rose, itwas decided to go to bed.

  It must have been around two o'clock that Jerry awakened with astart. At first he thought some one had called him, but he waited andlistened; he heard no one else stirring aboard the anchored _Comet_.

  "Guess I dreamed it," he mused; "but, as long as I'm awake, I'll get adrink of water."

  He went to the tank, and, as he passed the cabin window that lookedtoward Lost Valley, Jerry was startled by seeing strange lightsflickering up toward the sky.

  "Northern lights," was his exclamation; and then, as he stood andwatched the mysterious beams, he realized that his first impressionwas wrong. For the lights seemed to reach from the earth to the sky,and did not emanate from the heavens. Nor did they have the usualcharacteristics of Northern lights. They were more like the beams fromsome searchlight. They were six in number, and seemed to wave to andfro.

  "That's odd," remarked the lad. "Guess I'll call Bob and Ned, and seewhat they think of 'em."

  He awoke his chums, and the three gazed at the flickering lights.

  "Electricity, I guess," remarked Ned.

  "That's it," agreed Bob. "Probably there's a storm somewhere in themountains."

  "Those lights are not from electricity, nor are they the reflection ofsome storm," spoke a voice at the side of the boys, and they turned tosee Professor Snodgrass standing beside them. "See how the lights waveto and fro regularly," he added. "The color, too, is not natural. Itis like the reflection from some fire, in which smoke is mingled."

  "What do you suppose causes them?" inquired Jerry.

  "Human beings," was the quick answer. "I think those are signal lights."

  "You're right," came another voice, and Mr. Bell, who, like theprofessor, had been awakened by the boys, came to the window. "Thoseare signal lights," went on the aged man.

  "Where from?" asked Jerry.

  "From Lost Valley. The Indians are signaling."

  "Have they discovered our presence?" Bob wanted to know.

  "Perhaps," was the answer. "But it is more likely that the Indians inthe valley are signaling to some of their number who have gone outsidefor food and supplies, which is their custom. Mr. Loftus told me thatthey generally signal by means of fires made from a peculiar wood,and the gleams from the blazes are thrown up into the air, out of thevalley, from highly polished stones."

  "Well, I'm glad to hear that explanation," remarked Bob, with a littleshiver. "I was beginning to think they were ghost lights."