"No use going after that," laughed Hawke, for the hat was speedily blown over the precipice and whirled down into the ravine. The other boys quickly pulled their headgear down more securely.

"That old tower looks like a picture," exclaimed Dunk, as a bolt of lightning lit up the ancient structure and painted its somber walls with a vivid light more brilliant than sunshine.

"Why don't you take a picture of it, Windy?" asked Tender.

"Fine idea," exclaimed the Clevelander, adjusting his camera. "I never had a chance to take a flashlight like this."

Almost as he spoke there was a report like that of a huge gun, and an accompanying line of fire.

"Did you see that, fellows?" exclaimed Fred, when the noise had died down.

"What?" came in a chorus from the boys.

"Didn't you see it?" Fred repeated.

"What yuh talkin' about?" asked Herb, a little impatiently.

"Was you looking?"

"Come across, Windy," exclaimed Fly. "What are you driving at anyhow?"

Before the Clevelander had time to reply to this question, they were startled by a most peculiar shriek which pierced the air, and seemed to cut to the very marrow of their bones.

It came only once, but left the party hushed and silent.

"Must be an eagle," said Carl finally, "though it's the fiercest I ever heard."

"What was it you saw, Fred," asked Hawke.

"Well, when that light came, and I snapped the picture, I thought I saw something big and black floating around over there by that old tower."

"I didn't see nothing and I was lookin'!" deprecated Tender, doubtfully.

"Did you see it, Hawke?" persisted the young photographer.

"I blinked my eyes when the lightning flashed," replied the aviator.

"Well, I tell you I saw something." Fred spoke with conviction. "And it looked like a bird."

"Maybe it was--the one that yelled," said Dunk.

"The Thunder Bird, maybe," shouted Carl.

"Gee!" said several of the boys at once.

"I'll bet we're near his shrine," continued Fred excitedly, "and he's raising this storm."

"Aw, come off, you're dreamin'," discouraged Tender, though half convinced.

"I didn't see nothin' either," added Jerry, unwilling to admit that he was a little scared at the supernatural aspect things were taking.

"Maybe the picture will show," said Hawke.

Bang--a cannon seemed to be hurling great b.a.l.l.s against an iron wall with a shock that reverberated in all directions. The tumult became so continuous as to make conversation impossible, and the frequent flashes of light gave the timber the appearance of being on fire. The boys stood silent, rather enjoying the spectacle, though they were shivering with cold.

After a while the clouds spent their gathered energy and the rain fell in great torrents. Very soon the boys were drenched to the skin, but there seemed no escape. To go into the timber was dangerous, and blocking them in front was the yawning chasm.

"If we could only get at that old cliff dwellin'," suggested Fly, "we might find cover."

"We'll have to wait until we get our airship, to do that," laughed Hawke.

"There's a big rock down here," said Carl, returning from a short excursion which he had made along the side of the cascade, looking for shelter. "I think we can crowd under it till this is over."

The others hastily followed him, and were soon shielded from the rain under a huge, projecting boulder situated almost perilously on a smaller rock.

There they waited for some time, and about five o'clock the storm abated as quickly as it had arisen.

"Wonder where our pony is by this time!" speculated Fred.

"No telling," answered the Indian boy. "I'm afraid he's gotten scared and run away."

"With the grizzly!" Tender's tone was regretful.

They started back in the gray light of the obscured sun. Hawke hurried them, having an older person's concern for their welfare, and fearing they might suffer some bad results from wet clothing and cold.

CHAPTER IX

A STRANGE MEETING

"There ain't no chance of our pony's bein' there," remarked Tender, thinking more of the grizzly than anything else. "They'll think we're tellin' a fish story about that bear."

"If it was my own pony," said Carlito, "I wouldn't be afraid to bet my best quiver that he'd still be there. This one I don't know."

Their homeward journey was somewhat different from the climb upward. The ground was soggy and wet with soaked leaves and mud, while water constantly dripped upon them as they pa.s.sed under the trees. The sun, now setting just above the peak, gave a wan light through a half-mist, half-fog, which had arisen. They were still in rather high alt.i.tude, and the air was moist and cold. Creeping things, frightened into their holes by the storm, now ventured forth and skimmed across the ground frequently, disappearing again under the scraggy underbrush.

"Soon be time for the bats and owls," observed Dunk, as a surprised lizard hurried across their path.

Though they were all damp and chilled and anxious to regain their original camp, the boys kept up a cheerful conversation all the way.

"Funny you fellows didn't see that bird," said Fred.

"There wasn't no bird," twitted Jerry. "You just blinked your eyes when that flash came, and dreamt the rest."

"On the square though, fellows," seriously commented Herb, "Fred may be right, and that old tower may be the very place we're lookin' for."