Tom Swift in the City of Gold
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Victor Appleton >> Tom Swift in the City of Gold
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"Oh, bless my necktie! I think I'll be able to manage it," was the
answer. "I'm not going to tell her anything about it until the last
minute, and then I'll promise to bring her back one of the golden
images. She won't object then."
"Good!" exclaimed Tom. "I hope we can all bring back some of the
images."
"Yes, I know who you'll bring one for," said Ned with a laugh, and
he took care to get beyond the reach of Tom's fist. "Her first name
is Mary," he added.
"You get out!" laughed Tom, blushing at the same time.
"Ah! What a thing it is to be young!" exclaimed Mr. Damon with a
mock sigh. The boys laughed, for the old man, though well along in
years, was a boy at heart.
They talked at some length, speculating when they might hear from
Mr. Illingway, and discussing the sort of an outfit that would be
best to take with them.
Then, as the afternoon was drawing to a close, Tom and Ned went back
in the aeroplane, hearing the news about the Fogers as I have
previously mentioned.
"Well, I'll have to wait until I do see Andy to take it out of his
hide," remarked Tom grimly. "I'm glad he's out of the way, though.
There won't be any more danger of his overhearing our plans, and I
can work in peace on the dirigible balloon."
Though Tom had many air crafts, the one he thought best suited to
take with them on their search for the city of gold would have to be
constructed from parts of several machines, and it would take some
time.
Tom began work on it the next day, his father helping him, as did
Mr. Damon and Ned occasionally. Several weeks were spent in this
way, meanwhile the mails being anxiously watched for news from
Africa.
"Here you are, Tom!" called the postman one morning, as he walked
out to the shop where the young inventor was busy over the balloon.
"Here's another letter from that Buggy-wuggy place."
"Oh, you mean Gumba Twamba, in Africa!" laughed the lad. "Good!
That's what I've been waiting for. Now to see what the missionary
says."
"I hope you're not going to go as a missionary to Africa, Tom," said
the postman.
"No danger. This is just a letter from a friend there. He sent me
some facts so I can go off on another expedition."
"Oh, you're always going off on wild adventures," commented Uncle
Sam's messenger with a shake of his head as he hurried away, while
Tom tore open the letter from Africa and eagerly read it.
CHAPTER VI
"BEWARE THE HEAD-HUNTERS!"
"That's what I want!" exclaimed the young inventor, as he finished
the perusal of the missionary's missive.
"What is it?" asked Mr. Swift, entering the shop at that moment.
"News from Africa, dad. Mr. Illingway went to a lot of trouble to
get more information for us about the city of gold, and he sends a
better map. It seems there was one among the effects of the white
man who died near where Mr. Illingway has his mission. With this
map, and what additional information I have, we ought to locate the
underground city. Look, dad," and the lad showed the map.
"Humph!" exclaimed Mr. Swift with a smile. "I don't call that a very
clear map. It shows a part of Central Mexico, that's true, but it's
on such a small scale I don't see how you're going to tell anything
by it."
"But I have a description," explained Tom. "It seems according to
Mr. Illingway's letter, that you have to go to the coast and strike
into the interior until you are near the old city of Poltec. That
used to be it's name, but Mr. Illingway says it may be abandoned
now, or the name changed. But I guess we can find it."
"Then, according to what he could learn from the African natives,
who talked with the white man, the best way is to hire ox carts and
strike into the jungle. That's the only way to carry our baggage,
and the dirigible balloon which I'm going to take along."
"Pretty uncertain way to look for a buried city of gold," commented
Mr. Swift. "But I suppose even if you don't find it you'll have the
fun of searching for it, Tom."
"But we ARE going to find it!" the lad declared. "We'll get there,
you'll see!"
"But how are you going to know it when you see it?" asked his
father. "If it's underground even a balloon won't help you much."
"It's true it is underground," agreed Tom, "but there must be an
entrance to it somewhere, and I'm going to hunt for that entrance.
Mr. Illingway writes that the city is a very old one, and was built
underground by the priests of some people allied to the Aztecs. They
wanted a refuge in times of war and they also hid their valuables
there. They must have been rich to have so much gold, or else they
didn't value it as we do."
"That might be so," assented Mr. Swift. "But I still maintain, Tom,
that it's like looking for a needle in a haystack."
"Still, I'm going to have a try for it," asserted the lad. "If I can
once locate the plain of the big temple I'll be near the entrance to
the underground city."
"What is the 'plain of the big temple,' Tom?"
"Mr. Illingway writes," said the lad, again referring to the letter,
"that somewhere near the beginning of the tunnel that leads into the
city of gold, there is an immense flat plain, on which the ancient
Aztecs once built a great temple. Maybe they worshiped the golden
images there. Anyhow the temple is in ruins now, near an overgrown
jungle, according to the stories the white man used to tell. He once
got as near the city of gold as the big temple, but hostile natives
drove him and his party back. Then he went to Africa after getting
an image from someone, and died there. So no one since has ever
found the city of gold."
"Well, I hope you do, Tom, but I doubt it. However, I suppose you
will hurry your preparations for going away, now that you have all
the information you can get."
"Right, dad. I must send word to Mr. Damon and Ned at once. A few
more days' work, and my balloon will be in shape for a trial flight,
and then I can take it apart, pack it up, and ship it. Then ho! for
the city of gold!"
Mr. Swift smiled at his son's enthusiasm, but he did not check it.
He knew Tom too well for that.
Naturally Mr. Damon and Ned were delighted with the additional
information the missionary had sent, and Ned agreed with Tom that it
was a mere matter of diligent search to find the underground city.
"Bless my collar button!" cried Mr. Damon. "It may not be as easy as
all that, but Tom Swift isn't the kind that gives up! We'll get
there!"
Meanwhile Tom worked diligently on his balloon. He sent a letter of
thanks to Mr. Illingway, at the same time requesting that if any
more information was obtained within the next three weeks to cable
it, as there would not be time for a letter to reach Shopton ere Tom
planned to leave for Mexico.
The following days were busy ones for all. There was much to be
done, and Tom worked night and day. They had to get rifles ready,
for they might meet hostile natives. Then, too, they had to arrange
for the proper clothing, and other supplies.
To take apart and ship the balloon was no small task, and then there
were the passages to engage on a steamer that would land them at the
nearest point to strike into the interior, the question of
transportation after reaching Mexico, and many other matters to
consider.
But gradually things began to shape themselves and it looked as
though the expedition could start for the city of gold in about two
weeks after the receipt of the second letter from the missionary.
"I think I'll give the balloon a trial to-morrow," said Tom one
night, after a hard day's work, "It's all ready, and it ought to
work pretty good. It will be just what we need to sail over some
dense jungle and land down on the plain by the great temple."
"Bless my slipers!" exclaimed Mr. Damon. "I must think up some way
of telling my wife that I'm going."
"Haven't you told her yet?" asked Ned.
The eccentric man shook his head.
"I haven't had a good chance," he said, "but I think I'll tell her
to-morrow, and promise her one of the gold images. Then she won't
mind."
Tom was just a little bit nervous when he got ready for a trial
flight in the new dirigible balloon. To tell the truth he much
preferred aeroplanes to balloons, but he realized that in a country
where the jungle growth prevailed, and where there might be no level
places to get a "take off," or a starting place for an aeroplane,
the balloon was more feasible.
But he need have had no fears, for the balloon worked perfectly. In
the bag Tom used a new gas, much more powerful even than hydrogen,
and which he could make from chemicals that could easily be carried
on their trip.
The air craft was small but powerful, and could easily carry Tom,
Ned and Mr. Damon, together with a quantity of food and other
supplies. They intended to use it by starting from the place where
they would leave the most of their baggage, after getting as near to
the city of gold as they could by foot trails. Tom hoped to
establish a camp in the interior of Mexico, and make trips off in
different directions to search for the ruined temple. If
unsuccessful they could sail back each night, and if he should
discover the entrance to the buried city there was food enough in
the car of the balloon to enable them to stay away from camp for a
week or more.
In order to give the balloon a good test, Tom took up with him not
only Ned and Mr. Damon, but Eradicate and Mr. Swift to equalize the
weight of food and supplies that later would be carried. The test
showed that the craft more than came up to expectations, though the
trial trip was a little marred by the nervousness of the colored
man.
"I doan't jest laik dis yeah kind of travelin'," said Eradicate.
"I'd radder be on de ground."
Most of the remaining two weeks were spent in packing the balloon
for shipment, and then the travelers got their own personal
equipment ready. They put up some condensed food, but they depended
on getting the major portion in Mexico.
It was two days before they were to start. Their passage had been
engaged on a steamer, and the balloon and most of their effects had
been shipped. Mr. Damon had broken the news to his wife, and she had
consented to allow him to go, though she said it would be for the
last time.
"But if I bring her back a nice, big, gold image I know she'll let
me go on other trips with you, Tom." said the eccentric man. "Bless
my yard stick, if I couldn't go off on an adventure now and then I
don't know what I'd do."
They were in the library of the Swift home that evening. Tom, Ned,
Mr. Damon and the aged inventor, and of course the only thing talked
of was the prospective trip to the city of gold.
"What I can't understand," Mr. Swift was saying, "is why the natives
made so many of the same images of gold, and why there is that large
one in the underground place. What did they want of it?"
"That's part of the mystery we hope to solve," said Tom. "I'm going
to bring that big image home with me if I can. I guess--"
He was interrupted by a ring at the front door.
"I hope that isn't Andy Foger," remarked Ned.
"No danger," replied Tom. "He'll keep away from here after what he
did to my aeroplane."
Mrs. Baggert went to the door.
"A message for you, Tom," she announced a little later, handing in
an envelope.
"Hello, a cablegram!" exclaimed the young inventor. "It must be from
Mr. Illingway, in Africa. It is," he added a moment later as he
glanced at the signature.
"What does he say?" asked Mr. Swift.
"Can he give us any more definite information about the city of
gold?" inquired Ned.
"I'll read it," said Tom, and there was a curious, strained note in
his voice. "This is what it says:"
"'No more information obtainable. But if you go to the city of gold
beware of the head-hunters!'"
"Head-hunters!" exclaimed Mr. Damon. "Bless my top-knot, what are
they?"
"I don't know," answered Tom simply, "but whatever they are we've
got to be on the lookout for them when we get to the gold city, and
that's where I'm going, head-hunters or no head-hunters!"
CHAPTER VII
TOM MAKES A PROMISE
It may well be imagined that the cable warning sent by Mr. Illingway
caused our friends considerable anxiety. Coming as it did, almost at
the last minute, so brief--giving no particulars--it was very
ominous. Yet Tom was not afraid, nor did any of the others show
signs of fear.
"Bless my shotgun!" exclaimed Mr. Damon, as he looked at the few
words on the paper which Tom passed around. "I wish Mr. Illingway
had said more about the head-hunters--or less."
"What do you mean?" asked Ned.
"Well, I wish he'd given us more particulars, told us where we might
be on the lookout for the head-hunters, what sort of chaps they
were, and what they do to a fellow when they catch him."
"Their name seems plainly to indicate what they do," spoke Mr. Swift
grimly. "They cut off the head of their enemies, like that
interesting Filipino tribe. But perhaps they may not get after you.
If they do--"
"If they do," interrupted Tom with a laugh, "we'll hop in our
dirigible balloon, and get above THEIR heads, and then I guess we
can give a good account of ourselves. But would you rather Mr.
Illingway had said less about them, Mr. Damon?"
"Yes, I wish, as long as he couldn't tell us more, that he'd kept
quiet about them altogether. It's no fun to be always on the lookout
for danger. I'm afraid it will get on my nerves, to be continually
looking behind a rock, or a tree, for a head-hunter. Bless my comb
and brush!"
"Well, 'forewarned is forearmed,'" quoted Ned. "We won't think
anything more about them. It was kind of Mr. Illingway to warn us,
and perhaps the head-hunters have all disappeared since that white
traveler was after the city of gold. Some story which he told his
friends, the natives in Africa, is probably responsible for the
missionary's warning. Let's check over our lists of supplies, Tom,
and see if we have everything down!"
"Can't you do that alone, Ned?"
"Why?" and Ned glanced quickly at his chum. Mr. Damon and Mr. Swift
had left the room.
"Well, I've get an engagement--a call to make, and--"
"Enough said, old man. Go ahead. I know what it is to be in love.
I'll check the lists. Go see--"
"Now don't get fresh!" advised Tom with a laugh, as he went to his
room to get ready to pay a little visit.
"I say, Tom," called Ned after him. "What about Eradicate? Are you
going to take him along? He'd be a big help."
"I know he would, but he doesn't want to go. He balked worse than
his mule Boomerang when I spoke about an underground city. He said
he didn't want to be buried before his time. I didn't tell him we
were going after gold, for sometimes Rad talks a bit too much, and I
don't want our plans known."
"But I did tell him that Mexico was a great place for chickens, and
that he might see a bull fight."
"Did he rise to that bait?"
"Not a bit of it. He said he had enough chickens of his own, and he
never did like bulls anyhow. So I guess we'll have to get along
without Rad."
"It looks like it. Well, go and enjoy yourself. I'll wait here until
you come back, though I know you'll be pretty late, but I want to
make sure of our lists."
"All right, Ned," and Tom busied himself with his personal
appearance, for he was very particular when going to call on young
ladies.
A little later he was admitted to her house by Miss Mary Nestor, and
the two began an animated conversation, for this was in the nature
of a farewell call by Tom.
"And you are really about to start off on your wild search?" asked
the girl. "My! It seems just like something out of a book!"
"Doesn't it?" agreed Tom. "However, I hope there's more truth in it
than there is in some books. I should hate to be disappointed, after
all our preparation, and not find the buried city after all."
"Do you really think there is so much gold there?"
"Of course there's a good deal of guesswork about it," admitted the
young inventor, "and it may be exaggerated, for such things usually
are when a traveler has to depend on the accounts of natives."
"But it is certain that there is a big golden image in the interior
of Africa, and that it came from Mexico. Mr. Illingway isn't a
person who could easily be deceived. Then, too, the old Aztecs and
their allies were wonderful workers in gold and silver, for look at
what Cortez and his soldiers took from them."
"My! This is quite like a lecture in history!" exclaimed Mary with a
laugh. "But it's interesting. I wonder if there are any SMALL,
golden images there, as you say there are so many in the underground
city."
"Lots of them!" exclaimed Tom, as confidently as though he had seen
them. "I'll tell you what I'll do, Mary. I'll bring you back one of
these golden images for an ornament. It would look nice on that
shelf I think," and Tom pointed to a vacant space on the mantle.
"I'll bring you a large one or a small one, or both, Mary."
"Oh, you reckless boy! Well, I suppose it WOULD be nice to have two,
for they must be very valuable. But I'm not going to tax you too
much. If you bring me back two SMALL ones, I'll put one down here
and the other--"
She paused and blushed slightly.
"Yes, and the other," suggested Tom.
"I'll put the other up in my room to remember you by," she finished
with a laugh, "so pick out one that is nicely carved. Some of those
foreign ones, such as the Chinese have, are hideous."
"That's right," agreed Tom, "and I'll see that you get a nice one.
Those Aztecs used to do some wonderful work in gold and silver
carving. I've seen specimens in the museum."
Then the two young people fell to talking of the wonderful trip that
lay before Tom, and Mary, several times, urged him to be careful of
the dangers he would be likely to encounter.
Tom said nothing to her of the head-hunters. He did not want to
alarm Miss Nestor, and then, too, he thought the less he allowed his
mind to dwell on that unpleasant feature of the journey, the less
likely it would be to get on the nerves of all of them.
Ned was right when he predicted that Tom would make quite a lengthy
visit. There was much to talk about and he did not expect to see
Mary again for some time. But finally he realized that he must
leave, and with a renewed promise to bring back with him the two
small gold images, and after saying good-bye to Mr. and Mrs. Nestor,
Tom took his leave.
"If you get marooned in the underground city, Tom," said Mr. Nestor,
"I hope you can rig up a wireless outfit, and get help, as you did
for us on Earthquake Island."
"I hope so," answered our hero with a laugh, and then, a little
saddened by his farewell, and pondering rather solemnly on what lay
before him--the dangers of travel as well as those of the head-
hunters--Tom hastened back to his own home.
The young inventor found Ned busy over the list of supplies,
diligently checking it and comparing it with the one originally made
out, to see that nothing had been omitted. Mr. Damon had gone to his
room, for he was to remain at the Swift house until he left with the
gold-hunting expedition.
"Oh, you've got back, have you?" asked Tom's chum, with a teasing
air. "I thought you'd given up the trip to the city of gold."
"Oh, cheese it!" invited Tom. "Come on, now I'll help you. Where's
Eradicate? I want him to go out and see that the shop is locked up."
"He was in here a while ago and he said he was going to look after
things outside. He told me quite a piece of news."
"What was it?"
"It seems that the Foger house has been sold, the furniture was all
moved out to-day, and the family has left, bag and baggage. I asked
Rad if he had heard where to, and he said someone down in the
village was saying that Andy and his father have engaged passage on
some ship that sails day after to-morrow."
"Day after to-morrow!" cried Tom. "Why, that's when ours sails! I
hope Andy didn't hear enough of our plans that night to try to
follow us."
"It would be just like him," returned Ned, "but I don't think
they'll do it. They haven't enough information to go on. More likely
Mr. Foger is going to try some new ventures to get back his lost
fortune."
"Well, I hope he and Andy keep away from us. They make trouble
everywhere they go. Now come on, get busy."
And, though Tom tried to drive from his mind the thoughts of the
Fogers, yet it was with an uneasy sense of some portending disaster
that he went on with the work of preparing for the trip into the
unknown. He said nothing to Ned about it, but perhaps his chum
guessed.
"That'll do," said Tom after an hour's labor. "We'll call it a
night's work and quit. Can't you stay here--we've got several spare
beds."
"No, I'm expected home."
"I'll walk a ways with you," said Tom, and when he had left his chum
at his house our hero returned by a street that would take him past
the Foger residence. It was shrouded in darkness.
"Everybody's cleared out," said Tom in a low voice as he glance at
the gloomy house. "Well, all I hope is that they don't camp on our
trail."
CHAPTER VIII
ERADICATE WILL GO
"I guess everything is all ready," remarked Tom.
"I can't think of anything more to do," said Ned.
"Bless my grip-sack!" exclaimed Mr. Damon, "if there IS, someone
else has got to do it. I'm tired to death! I never thought getting
ready to go off on a simple little trip was so much work. We ought
to have made the whole journey from start to finish in an airship,
Tom, as we've done before."
"It was hardly practical," answered the young inventor. "I'm afraid
we'll be searching for this underground city for some time, and
we'll only need an airship or a dirigible balloon for short trips
here and there. We've got to go a good deal by information the
natives can furnish us, and we can't get at them very well when
sailing in the air."
"That's right," agreed the eccentric man. "Well, I'm glad we're
ready to start,"
It was the evening of the day before they were to leave for New
York, there to take steamer to a small port on the Mexican coast,
and every one was busy putting the finishing details to the packing
of his personal baggage.
The balloon, taken apart for easy transportation, had been sent on
ahead, as had most of their supplies, weapons and other needed
articles. All they would carry with them were handbags, containing
some clothing.
"Then you've fully made up your mind not to go; eh Rad?" asked Tom
of the colored man, who was busy helping them pack. "You won't take
a chance in the underground city?"
"No, Massa Tom, I's gwine t' stay home an' look after yo' daddy.
'Sides, Boomerang is gettin' old, an' when a mule gits along in
yeahs him temper ain't none ob de best."
"Boomerang's temper never was very good, anyhow," said Tom. "Many's
the time he's balked on you, Rad."
"I know it, Massa Tom, but dat jest shows what strong character he
done hab. Nobody kin manage dat air mule but me, an' if I were to
leave him, dere suah would be trouble. No, I cain't go to no
underground city, nohow."
"But if you found some of the golden images you could buy another
mule--two of 'em if you wanted that many," said Ned, and a moment
later he remembered that Tom did not want the colored man to know
anything about the trip after gold. He had been led to believe that
it was merely a trip to locate an ancient city.
"Did yo' done say GOLDEN images?" asked Eradicate, his eyes big with
wonder.
Ned glanced apologetically at Tom, and said, with a shrug of his
shoulders:
"Well, I--"
"Oh, we might as well tell him," interrupted the young inventor.
"Yes, Rad, we expect to bring back some images of solid gold from
the underground city. If you go along you might get some for your
self. Of course there's nothing certain about it, but--"
"How--how big am dem gold images, Massa Tom?" asked Eradicate
eagerly.
"You've got him going now, Tom," whispered Ned.
"How big?" repeated Tom musingly. "Hum, well, there's one that is
said to be bigger than three men, and there must be any number of
smaller ones--say boy's size, and from that on down to the real
little ones, according to Mr. Illingway."
"Real gold--yellow, gold images as big as a man," said Eradicate in
a dreamy voice. "An'--an' some big as boys. By golly, Massa Tom, am
yo' suah ob dat?"
"Pretty sure. Why, Rad?"
"Cause I's gwine wid yo', dat's why! I didn't know yo' all was goin'
after gold. My golly I's gwine along! Look out ob mah way, ef yo'
please,--Mr, Damon. I'se gwine t' pack up an' go. Am it too late to
git me a ticket, Massa Tom?"
"No, I guess there's room on the ship. But say, Rad, I don't want
you to talk about this gold image part of it. You can say we're
going to look for an underground city, but no more, mind you!"
"Trust me, Massa Tom; trust me. I--I'll jest say BRASS images, dat's
what I'll say--BRASS! We's gwine after brass, an' not GOLD. By
golly, I'll fool 'em!"
"No, don't say anything about the images--brass or gold," cautioned
Tom. "But, Rad, there's another thing. We may run across the head-
hunters down thre in Mexico."
"Head-hunters? What's dem?"
"They crush you, and chop off your head for an ornament."
"Ha! Ha! Den I ain't in no danger, Massa Tom. Nobody would want de
head ob an old colored man fo' an ornament. By golly! I's safe from
dem head-hunters! Yo' can't scare me dat way. I's gwine after some
of dem gold images, I is, an' ef I gits some I'll build de finest
stable Boomerang ever saw, an' he kin hab oats fo' times a day.
Dat's what I's gwine t' do. Now look out ob mah way, Mr. Damon, ef
yo' pleases. I's gwine t' pack up," and Eradicate shuffled off,
chuckling to himself and muttering over and over again: "Gold
images! Gold images! Images ob solid gold! Think ob dat! By golly!"
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