Chapter XIV
Mysterious Disappearances
There was a dull, muffled report, a sort of rumbling that seemed toextend away down under the earth and then echo back again until theground near the mouth of the tunnel, where the party was standing,appeared to rock and heave. There followed a cloud of yellow, heavysmoke which made one choke and gasp, and Tom, seeing it, cried:
"Down! Down, everybody! There's a back draft, and if you breathe any ofthat powder vapor you'll have a fearful headache! Get down, until thesmoke rises!"
The tunnel contractors and their men understood the danger, for theyhad handled explosives before. It is a well-known fact that the fumesof dynamite and other giant powders will often produce severeheadaches, and even illness. Tom's explosive contained a certainpercentage of dynamite, and he knew its ill effects. Stretched prone,or crouching on the ground, there was little danger, as the fumes,being lighter than air, rose. The yellow haze soon drifted away, and itwas safe to rise.
"Well, I wonder how much rock your explosive tore loose for us, Tom,"observed Job Titus, as he looked at the thin, yellowish cloud of smokethat was still lazily drifting from the tunnel.
"Can't tell until we go in and take a look," replied the younginventor. "It won't be safe to go in for a while yet, though. Thatsmoke will hang in there a long time. I didn't think there'd be a backdraft."
"There is, for we've often had the same trouble with our shots," WalterTitus said. "I can't account for it unless there is some opening in theshaft, connecting with the outer air, which admits a wind that drivesthe smoke out of the mouth, instead of forward into the blast hole.It's a queer thing and we haven't been able to get at the bottom of it."
"That's right," agreed his brother. "We've looked for some opening, ornatural shaft, but haven't been able to find it. Sometimes we shootoff a charge and everything goes well, the smoke disappears in a fewminutes. Again it will all blow out this way and we lose half a daywaiting for the air to clear. There's a hidden shaft, or naturalchimney, I'm sure, but we can't find it."
"Thot blast didn't make much racket," commented Tim Sullivan. "I doubtthot much rock come down. An' thot's not sayin' anythin' ag'in yerpowder, lad," he went on to Tom.
"Oh, that's all right," Tom Swift replied, with a laugh. "My explosivedoesn't work by sound. It has lots of power, but it doesn't producemuch concussion."
"We've often made more noise with our blasts," confirmed Job Titus,"but I can't say much for our results."
They were all anxious, Tom included, to hurry into the tunnel to seehow much rock had been loosened by the blast, but it was not safe toventure in until the fumes had been allowed to disperse. In about anhour, however, Tim Sullivan, venturing part way in, sniffed the air andcalled:
"It's all right, byes! Air's clear. Now come on!"
They all hurried eagerly into the shaft, Mr. Damon stumbling along atTom's side, as anxious as the lad himself. Before they reached the faceof the cliff against which the bore had been driven, and which was as asolid wall of rock to further progress, they began to tread onfragments of stone.
"Well, it blew some as far back as here," said Walter Titus. "That's agood sign."
"I hope so," Tom remarked.
There were still some fumes noticeable in the tunnel, and Mr. Damoncomplained of a slight feeling of illness, while Koku, who kept atTom's side, murmured that it made his eyes smart. But the sensationssoon passed.
They came to a stop as the face of the cliff loomed into view in theglare of a searchlight which Job Titus switched on. Then a murmur ofwonder came from every one, save from Tom Swift. He, modestly, keptsilent.
"Bless my breakfast orange!" cried Mr. Damon. "What a big hole!"
There was a great gash blown in the hard rock which had acted as a barto the further progress of the tunnel. A great heap of rock, brokeninto small fragments, was on the floor of the shaft, and there was abig hole filled with debris which would have to be removed before theextent of the blast could be seen.
"That's doing the work!" cried Job Titus.
"It beats any two blasts we ever set off," declared his brother.
"Much fine!" muttered the Peruvian foreman, Serato.
"It's a lalapaloosa, lad! Thot's what it is!" enthusiasticallyexclaimed Tim Sullivan. "Now the black beggars will have some rock toshovel! Come on there, Serato, git yer lazy imps t' work cartin' thisstuff away. We've got a man on th' job now in this new powder of TomSwift's. Git busy!"
"Um!" grunted the Indian, and he called to his men who were soon busywith picks and shovels, loading the loosened rock and earth into themule-hauled dump cars which took it to the mouth of the tunnel, whenceit was shunted off on another small railroad to fill in a big gulch tosave bridging it.
Tom's first blast was very successful, and enough rock was loosed tokeep the laborers busy for a week. The contractors were more thansatisfied.
"At this rate we'll finish ahead of time, and earn a premium," said Jobto his brother.
"That's right. You didn't make any mistake in appealing to Tom Swift.But I wonder if Blakeson & Grinder have given up trying to get the jobaway from us?"
"I don't know. I'd never trust them. We must watch out for Waddington.That bomb on the vessel had a funny look, even if it was not meant tokill Tom or me. I won't relax any."
"No, I guess it wouldn't be safe."
But a week went by without any manifestation having been made by therival tunnel contractors. During that week more of Tom's explosivearrived, and he busied himself getting ready another blast which couldbe set off as soon as the debris from the first should have beencleared away.
Meanwhile, Professor Bumper, with his Indian guides and helpers, hadmade several trips into the mountain regions about Rimac, but each timethat he returned to the tunnel camp to renew his supplies, he had onlya story of failure to recite.
"But I am positive that somewhere in this vicinity is the lost Peruviancity of Pelone," he said. "Every indication points to this as theregion, and the more I study the plates of gold, and read theirmessage, the more I am convinced that this is the place spoken of.
"But we have been over many mountains, and in more valleys, withoutfinding a trace of the ancient civilization I feel sure once flourishedhere. There are no relics of a lost race--not so much as an arrow orspear head. But, somehow or other, I feel that I shall find the lostcity. And when I do I shall be famous!"
"Mr. Damon and I will help you all we can," Tom said. "As soon as I getready the next blast I'll have a little time to myself, and we will gowith you on a trip or two."
"I shall be very glad to have you," the bald-headed scientist remarked.
Tom's second blast was even more successful than the first, and enoughof the hard rock was loosed and pulverized to give the Indian laborersten days' work in removing it from the tunnel.
Then, as the services of the young inventor would not be needed for aweek or more, he decided to go on a little trip with Professor Bumper.
"I'll come too," said Mr. Damon. "One of the sub-contractors whose menare gathering the cinchona bark for our firm has his headquarters inthe region where you are going, and I can go over there and see why heisn't up to the mark."
Accordingly, preparations having been made to spend a week in camp inthe forests of the Andes, Tom and his party set off one morning.Professor Bumper's Indian helpers would do the hard work, and, ofcourse, Koku, who went wherever Tom went, would be on hand in case somefeat of strength were needed.
It was a blind search, this hunt for a lost city, and as much luckmight be expected going in one direction as in another; so the partyhad no fixed point toward which to travel. Only Mr. Damon stipulatedthat he wanted to reach a certain village, and they planned to includethat on their route.
Tom Swift took his electric rifle with him, and with it he was able tobring down a couple of deer which formed a welcome addition to the campfare.
The rifle was a source of great wonder to the Peruvians. They werefamiliar with ordi
nary firearms, and some of them possessedold-fashioned guns. But Tom's electric weapon, which made not a sound,but killed with the swiftness of light, was awesome to them. Theinterpreter accompanying Professor Bumper confided privately to Tomthat the other Indians regarded the young inventor as a devil whocould, if he wished, slay by the mere winking of an eye.
Mr. Damon located the quinine-gathering force he was anxious to see,and, through the interpreter, told the chief that more bark must bebrought in to keep up to the terms of the contract.
But something seemed to be the matter. The Indian chief was indifferentto the interpreted demands of Mr. Damon, and that gentleman, though heblessed any number of animate and inanimate objects, seemed to make noimpression.
"No got men to gather bark, him say," translated the interpreter.
"Hasn't got any men!" exclaimed Mr. Damon. "Why, look at all the lazybeggars around the village."
This was true enough, for there were any number of able-bodied Indianslolling in the shade.
"Him say him no got," repeated the translator, doggedly.
At that moment screams arose back of one the grass huts, and a childran out into the open, followed by a savage dog which was snapping atthe little one's bare legs.
"Bless my rat trap!" gasped Mr. Damon. "A mad dog!"
Shouts and cries arose from among the Indians. Women screamed, andthose who had children gathered them up in their arms to run toshelter. The men threw all sorts of missiles at the infuriated animal,but seemed afraid to approach it to knock it over with a club, or to goto the relief of the frightened child which was now only a few feetahead of the animal, running in a circle.
"Me git him!" cried Koku, jumping forward.
"No, Wait!" exclaimed Tom Swift. "You can kill the dog all right,Koku," he said, "but a scratch from his tooth might be fatal. I'll fixhim!"
Snatching his electric rifle from the Indian bearer who carried it, Tomtook quick aim. There was no flash, no report and no puff of smoke, butthe dog suddenly crumpled up in a heap, and, with a dying yelp, rolledto one side. The child was saved.
The little one, aware that something had happened, turned and saw thestretched out form of its enemy. Then, sobbing and crying, it rantoward its mother who had just heard the news.
While the mothers gathered about the child, and while the older boysand girls made a ring at a respectful distance from the dog, there wasactivity noticed among the men of the village. They began hurrying outalong the forest paths.
"Where are they going?" asked Tom. "Is there some trouble? Was that asacred dog, and did I get in bad by killing it?"
The interpreter and the native chief conversed rapidly for a moment andthen the former, turning to Tom, said:
"Men go git cinchona bark now. Plenty get for him," and he pointed toMr. Damon. "They no like stay in village. T'ink yo' got lightning inyo' pocket," and he pointed to the electric rifle.
"Oh, I see!" laughed Tom. "They think I'm a sort of wizard. Well, so Iam. Tell them if they don't get lots of quinine bark I'll have to stayhere until all the mad dogs are shot."
The interpreter translated, and when the chief had ceased replying, Tomand the others were told:
"Plenty bark git. Plenty much. Yo' go away with yo' lightning. Allright now."
"Well, it's a good thing I keeled over that dog," Tom said. "It was thebest object lesson I could give them."
And from then on there was no more trouble in this district aboutgetting a supply of the medicinal bark.
A week passed and Professor Bumper was no nearer finding the lost citythan he had been at first. Reluctantly, he returned to the tunnel campto get more provisions.
"And then I'll start out again," he said.
"We'll go with you some other time," promised Tom. "But now I expectI'll have to get another blast ready."
He found the debris brought down by the second one all removed, and ina few days, preparations for exploding more of the powder were underway.
Many holes had been drilled in the face of the cliff of hard rock, andthe charges tamped in. Electric wires connected them, and they were runout to the tunnel mouth where the switch was located.
This was done late one afternoon, and it was planned to set off theblast at the close of the working day, to allow all night for the fumesto be blown away by the current of air in the tunnel.
"Get the men out, Tim," said Tom, when all was ready.
"All right, sor," was the answer, and the Irish foreman went backtoward the far end of the bore to tell the last shift of laborers tocome out so the blast could be set off.
But in a little while Tim came running back with a queer look on hisface.
"What's the matter?" asked Tom. "Why didn't you bring the men with you?"
"Because, sor, they're not there!"
"Not in the tunnel? Why, they were working there a little while ago,when I made the last connection!"
"I know they were, but they've disappeared."
"Disappeared?"
"Yis sir. There's no way out except at this end an' you didn't see thimcome out: did you?"
"Then they've disappeared! That's all there is to it! Bad goin's on,thot's what it is, sor! Bad!" and Tim shook his head mournfully.
Tom Swift and His Big Tunnel; Or, The Hidden City of the Andes Page 14