“Good idea,” he said. “Well, come on fellows. Now this we can’t take, and this and this.”
For hours they were busy sorting out the useless gifts, and for other hours busy packing them securely and stowing away in the sitting room to await their return.
At length the expedition was ready to start. The mules were packed, Carlos, Pedro and the monks being expert in the art. Besides the necessary food supplies and camping equipment, the luggage contained field radio equipment of various sorts. There was a tube transmitter, several sizes of spark coil, coils of fine wire, and duplications of the standard U. S. Army field radio—several sets of hollow, light steel poles in collapsible sections, a hand-operated quarter-kilowatt generator, headphones and batteries being the main articles.
“With the tube transmitter we can reach you at our base here, Father Felipe, for short distances,” said Mr. Hampton. “But for long distance work, the tube transmitter and batteries would not be strong enough. In that case, this little generator will be the thing to employ. You might consider us foolish to take all these duplications of equipment, but they do not weigh much and, we have so distributed all among the mule packs, that even if part become lost, we shall still have others upon which to fall back.”
Father Felipe looked about him at the assembled monks, and smiled.
“If you get into a tight place,” he said, “call on us for help. It may seem foolish to offer you the help of men of peace, yet we are no puling men here, but strong, stout fellows all. Even should you be taken prisoners and require stout arms to rescue you, call upon us. There be many here who have soldiered in the past and who could strike a right good blow in a righteous cause, I warrant you.”
“I can easily believe that, Father Felipe,” answered Mr. Hampton with a smile. “Well, bid us Godspeed, and we shall be on our way.”
The Abbot embraced Mr. Hampton, Don Ernesto and the boys unaffectedly. Brother Gregorio and Frank did likewise. The other monks raised a cheer. Then there was a period of silence while all knelt with uncovered head, and Father Felipe prayed aloud for the safe return of the expedition.
Not until then did they swing off along a trail up the side of a mountain that would presently vanish upon a bare mountain top, they were assured, after which they would have to trust to their own energy and resource for getting forward. At a bend in the trail all halted and faced about for a last look at the monastery.
“It makes me feel as if I were living in mediaeval times,” said Frank. “The stout Abbot and his jolly monks, us setting off afoot with a mule train, the prayer delivered over us as we start. Boy, this is the way to live.”