The statement regarding the dragon had drawn Terry’s attention. It was a solemn statement to the effect that if anyone who was not a subject of His Sovereign Majesty the King of Spain attempted to lay hands on the treasure the guardian dragon would utterly destroy them.
“I wouldn’t pay much attention to that,” smiled the professor. “In the first place, the Spaniards stole it from the Indians, and it never did belong to His Sovereign Majesty. We won’t worry about the dragon until we have found the treasure.”
They had planned to start out on the following day in an effort to find the river up which the galleon had sailed. The professor declined to accompany them.
“You boys go ahead and do the hunting,” he said. “I’m a little too old to be riding around the country looking for gold. But when you find it I’ll help you dig it out.”
“Well, if we don’t find it, we’ll have a good camping trip, anyway,” said Ned, who knew that his father did not place much stock in his ideas regarding the treasure.
It had been agreed that no long trip was to be arranged just yet. Ned planned to explore the coast for several miles to the south at present, and if that failed to show any signs of a river or the wreck to make preparations for a trip of several days. They were to be gone overnight this time and that was all.
So on the following day they were ready to go. Each boy had a packet of provisions and his blanket strapped on the back of his saddle and a light automatic rifle in his hands. The boys had been taught to shoot with a fair degree of accuracy at Woodcrest School and so felt no fear of appearing backward in that respect in Ned Scott’s eyes. They all shook hands with the professor, who wished them luck, and then they rode away to the southward in the first step of their hunt for the Spanish treasure.
The day was warm and clear, and before they had been many hours on the open plain they felt the heat keenly. The sun beat down directly on the flat, dry soil, and dancing waves of heat soon showed above the ground, as far as the eye could see. Ned would have turned to the distant mountains except that their search lay along the sea coast and they would gain nothing by seeking the coolness of the higher lands.
“What mountains are those?” Don asked, pointing to the sweeping ranges.
“That central range which you see is the Sierra Gigantea,” explained Ned. “In some places it is three and four thousand feet above sea level. The high ranges are north and south, and on this southwestern side the rocks are granitic. There is plenty of sandstone on the other slope, and the range is full of volcanic dykes.”