CHAPTER XXVIII.
THE UPPER REGIONS.
The boys were up with the sun the next day. It was the morning which was to witness the start of the flight for Rattlesnake Island. Everything about the Wondership was in readiness for the enterprise, and there only remained the tin breakfast utensils and the tents to be packed when they had concluded the morning meal.
Naturally excitement ran high. The hunt for the island, too, might be a long one. But they felt that ultimately they would find it, that it would not be like the three buttes of Peg-leg Smith.
When everything was declared ready, Jack opened the charging-tube of the gas reservoir and poured in some of the volatile powder that made the lifting vapor. In fifteen minutes the gauge showed a good pressure in the tank and the valve was turned.
In the hot sun the balloon bag expanded quickly. At length the bag was almost full.
"Everything ready?" cried Jack, at length, when all were on board.
"Ready," said Tom at the engines.
"Then off we go!"
Tom pulled the clutch lever and the propellers whirled. Jack gave the steering and controlling wheel an impulse and like a huge bird the Wondership shot up. But she rose slowly, for besides the unusual number of passengers, she was also carrying a great weight in supplies.
As the craft rose three figures watched it from under the concealment of a clump of mesquite.
"There they go, boys," said Masterson, for it was he and his two cronies.
"Yes, they're off for Rattlesnake Island," sneered Eph. "I hope they get bitten."
"I'll bet they don't dream that we know everything about their plans," chuckled Sam. "I'd like to get even with that red-headed kid."
"Well, you'll get a chance before long," declared Bill Masterson. "I don't see that there's any use in hanging around here any longer," he went on. "The thing to do now is to get our boats and go down the river."
"Won't they be astonished when they see us," said Eph.
"Maybe they'll try to chase us away. They outnumber us," said the timid Sam.
"They'd better not," vaunted Bill Masterson. "I guess we've got as good a right to that old island as they have."
"That's right," echoed Eph, following his leader's sentiments. "I guess they haven't got any mortgage on it."
Viewed from the Wondership, the desert spread out below was a wonderful panorama. Through it, like a deep wound, the Colorado cut its way and far beyond were the pale, misty outlines of mountains. As they flew onward, the character of the scenery began to change.
The river appeared to sink, while mighty walls, of most gorgeous colors, cliffed it in. The rocks glowed with red and yellow and blue like a painter's palate. But this was only in the deep canyon. On either side the desert, vast and unlimited, stretched away grayly to the horizon.
"It must have taken centuries for the river to have cut such a deep valley," said Tom, looking down as they flew far above it.
"Some say that the river didn't cut it," said Zeb. "They claim that there was a big earthquake or some sort of a shake-up, and that made that big hole in the ground."
Below them they could see birds circling above the swiftly racing waters flecked with white foam. So far no sign of land answering the description of Rattlesnake Island had come in view. But several small, isolated spots of land were encountered, and on one, which looked something like Rattlesnake Island described on the map, they descended.
The boys were delighted at the way the great Wondership settled down into the canyon and then came to rest on the back of the island round which the water rushed and roared. They scattered and ran about on it, enjoying the opportunity to stretch their legs.
Jack, Tom and Dick took a rifle along with them and they were glad they had done so, for as they made their way through a patch of brush a beautiful deer sprang out and dashed off. Jack had the rifle at his shoulder in a minute and the creature bounded into the air, as the crack of the report sounded, and then fell dead.
The boy felt some remorse at having killed it, but he knew they would be in need of fresh meat and some venison would be a welcome addition to the ordinary camp fare. The boys carried the deer back and Zeb skillfully skinned and quartered it. While he was doing this, the boys speculated as to how the animal could have come to the island.
Zeb set their discussion at rest by explaining that it had probably swum the rapids to escape a mountain lion or a lynx. He said that he had often shot deer under similar conditions. As it was almost noon, they decided to wait on the island till they had eaten lunch. Zeb sliced off some venison cutlets and cooked them to a turn over hot wood coals. The boys thought they had never tasted anything better than the fresh meat.
While the plates and knives and forks were being washed and put away, the professor wandered off on his perennial quest of rocks and specimens. He said that he would be back in a short time but was anxious not to miss the opportunity of finding some possibly rare stones.
But everything was ready and the boys were waiting impatiently half an hour later, and there was no sign of the professor.
Suddenly they heard his voice shouting to them from the distance.
"What's he saying?" asked Jack.
"Hark!" admonished Tom.
The professor's shouts came plainly to their ears the next minute, borne on a puff of wind that swept through the canyon.
"Help! Help!" was the burden of his cries. "Get me out!"
"Now, what's happened to him?" demanded Zeb, with a trace of impatience.
"I don't know, but he must be in trouble of some sort," cried Jack.
"Maybe it's another donkey," mischievously suggested Dick.
The cries were redoubled. They waited no longer but started off across the island on the run. Zeb carried his big forty-four revolver.