"Why, don't you value your dear brother?" grinned Jim. "He's your guide, philosopher and friend."

"Never mind about that," said Tom. "Let's get to work."

Jim took the hammer and sounded all over the surface of the rock, but found no hollow place.

"I'm going to put a blast right in the center of that letter," declared Jim.

Juarez shook his head dubiously. It was evident that he was in dread of something. But Jim went ahead and drilled a hole in the center of the sign, and put a fuse to it. We drew back a ways down the rock but not far.

We saw the smoke, a mere thread, and an occasional spark. Then an explosion that sent pieces of red rock flying up and around us. A big hole was torn in the center of the letter.

Jim was the first to reach the place.

"This is it," he cried.

He took the pick and began digging, and we saw that there was a round opening into a natural hollow in the rock. Jim was able to crawl partially in and he made a careful search, lighting several matches.

Then he crawled out, shaking his head.

"Empty is the cradle," he said. "There's only a few flakes of gold and you can see the place where the box has stood."

I crawled in next. Sure enough, there was the tarnished place on the rock where it had stood for centuries perhaps. In feeling around my hand touched a small bit of folded bark. Without thinking much about it I picked it up and put it in my pocket.

Tom stayed in the treasure hollow so long that we had to yank him out by the feet.

"He is the chief mourner," commented Jim.

"Look out, boys," yelled Juarez, "big stone coming."

Like a great cannon ball it was bounding down the rock towards us. We jumped aside just in time and it smacked between us.

"A considerably narrow escape," mused Jim.

"The old witch up there is offended," said Juarez. "I saw a genie fly out when you sent off that blast."

"I think the explosion loosened the rock, Juarez," said Jim. There were the two views. We went back to the boat with more experience but no treasure.

CHAPTER XXIX

A TERRIBLE EXPERIENCE

That evening as we sat on the bank above we talked over our experience of the day. Then I bethought myself of the piece of folded bark and pulled it out of my pocket.

"Here's something that I picked up in the rock hollow," I remarked.

Jim seized it eagerly and Juarez watched its unfolding with the keenest interest. The word "bark" is only a rough term to describe it. The doc.u.ment was really made of some sort of pulp, whether of wood or cacti I could not say.

When it was spread out, the paper was 12x12 inches. There was a curious drawing in the center with words written in Spanish, and in one corner was the representation of a mountain.

"That's a diagram," commented Jim, "but I cannot make much out of it, can you, Juarez?"

"I see somethings," announced Juarez. "That mountain is in Mexico. But the lines I do not understand, but we shall see when we go down there."

"It is the key to the whereabouts of the treasure box," announced Tom, "that drawing is. Only we have got to get someone who reads Spanish to translate it. Let me keep it?"

"No," said Jim, decisively. "Jo found it and he can take care of it."

"Hold on," suggested Tom. "Let's make a copy of it for each one of us."

"That's the idea," I acceded. "Who is the best artist?"

"Let Juarez try his hand at it," said Jim, "he's the one."

So Juarez went steadily to work, and he justified Jim's choice, for it was splendidly copied. His trained eyes and hand were evident in the drawing.

The next morning we started on the last part of our journey.

"Heave ho, my hearties," cried Jim as we pulled up our stone anchors.

"All ash.o.r.e who are going ash.o.r.e," and we swung out into the easy current.

"This is what I like," cried Jim. "Give me the boat every time."

"You teach me how to steer, Jim?" said Juarez.

"You bet I will," replied the commodore.

Juarez was an apt pupil and he soon learned to use his lithe strength to the best advantage. It was of the greatest a.s.sistance to us, for it gave either Jim or Juarez a chance to take the other oar on the side back of me.

This threw Tom out of a job, but he did not mind, as his bruised leg bothered him. Jim found him a position, however, for he stationed him back of us to keep a sharp lookout ahead for rocks and other dangers.

He was really a pilot and his keen eyes were of great help. By a wave of a hand he indicated the direction to Juarez in which to steer, and to Jim and me he would call port or starboard.

Tom liked this. He was quick of decision and was not afraid to take the responsibility. In an easy stretch he would lean against the cabin and shout out his orders in a clarion voice, but in rough water he stood braced on deck, looking keenly ahead.

"Starboard your helm," he would yell. Then we dashed safely by a great rock.

"Now let her r-r-run," he commanded (slurring his r's) as we came to a clear section of the river.

Tom a.s.sumed considerable style under the impulse of his new authority, and we had to take it out of him at regular intervals.

It really was a fine plan, for we could give our whole attention to the oars. Then, too, Jim and I were much stronger than Tom, and with Juarez or Jim at the steering oar, we managed "The Captain" as though she were a skiff. We had need of our skill, too, in the great canyons that were ahead of us.

For a week or more we had easy work, as the Temple canyon was wide and the rapids not so severe. But it was easy only by comparison with what we had been through. To a fresh voyager it would have seemed terrific.

The weather was mostly clear and sunshiny, but one afternoon we ran into a heavy storm almost like a water spout.