“All mountains are quite a bit alike, Jack.”
“Oh, sure, but these peaks are more formidable. Somewhere in this maze we may stumble on a hidden plateau or valley. We may never find the hidden city or Burton Monahan, but I think there’s a good chance we may learn what became of him.”
“Maybe we’ll come across that ancient Inca city too,” Willie contributed. “Captain Carter must think it exists, or he wouldn’t have been so keen on an expedition. Wonder what became of him?”
“We haven’t seen his party in days—or any other white man,” War remarked, nursing a large welt on his cheek. “I suspect—”
Suddenly he broke off, springing up from a crouched position by the fire.
“What was that?” he demanded in a half whisper. “Something swished past my ear just now!”
Alerted, the other Scouts moved out of the circle of firelight.
The object had sped past War to lodge in a tent pole some distance beyond. Jack pulled an arrow from the wood.
“Another warning,” he muttered. “Only this time it’s more serious.”
“Indians must be all around this camp,” War said nervously. “If they should decide to attack—”