"As I say, that seems by far the most likely supposition. It does not seem possible, in the first place, that a great city could continue in existence unknown to the rest of the world for centuries. Curiosity is one of the basic qualities of human nature. The older folks might be content to let well enough alone, to remain secluded and unknown in their city, ringed round by mountains, protected from intrusion by the great tunnel, by trackless forests, arid deserts and staggering precipices. But the more adventurous younger spirits, as I say, would want to know what lay over the hills, and would adventure forth."

"But what would wipe them out?" asked Bob, always the practical.

Mr. Hampton shrugged his shoulders. "Perhaps a plague. Perhaps the Auraucanos. Who knows? Maybe, some cataclysm of nature like an earthquake. There are cities in South America today that we know of, which were ruined in a matter of minutes, by earthquake.

"No, the probabilities all are that, if we do find the Enchanted City, we will find it in ruins and uninhabited except by wild beasts. Yet what a wonderful experience it would be to explore those ruins, and what treasure would be stored there."

Frank nodded.

"Just the same," he said, "I'd like the experience of stepping out of the present into the past, of walking from a mechanical civilization into an Inca city."

CHAPTER V--RADIO INVADES THE MONASTERY

Preparations for departure from Santiago did not occupy long, as it was not intended the expedition should be outfitted at the Chilian capital.

On the contrary, the starting point was to be the isolated Andine monastery, presided over by Don Ernesto's relative, who had obtained and forwarded the old ma.n.u.script of Luis de Pereira.

"At this old monastery," he told the boys, "we shall spend some time going over maps, talking with missionary monks who have penetrated portions of the wild region into which we plan to march, and gathering our expedition together. Our winter, which corresponds in point of time to your summer, is drawing to a close. By the time we are ready to move, spring will have come, and we can travel without too great inconvenience due to the weather.

"Your father," he explained to Jack, "regrets delaying your return to college, but he feels that such an expedition will be worth a great deal to you and your friends."

Mr. Hampton nodded.

"If all goes well," he added, "you fellows will get back to Yale after the Christmas vacation. Even if you were to miss a whole year of cla.s.s work, it would be worth while merely for this unusual experience."

With this the boys were in hearty agreement. Farewells, then, were said to Santiago. The party, consisting of the two older men, the four boys and two trusted _huachos_, Pedro and Carlos, set out for the Monastery of the Cross of the Snows. The Longitudinal Railway, in the valley between the Cordilleras and the Andes, carried them south to Tembuco in the Auraucanian land, and thence they made their way by automobile to a tambo or inn in the Andes, where mules which had been arranged for were obtained. After a ten-day journey on mule back over trails that skirted terrible precipices, climbed cliffs seemingly impa.s.sable and by means of rope suspension bridges crossed gorges in the bottoms of which roared torrents over rocky beds, they at length reached the monastery.

The Abbot, Father Felipe, was a jolly fellow, rotund as a keg, his face rosy and sparkling with good cheer. They were welcomed warmly. Far though they were to the south, and despite the fact that they were not in the loftiest of the mountains, the winter had been rigorous. Had it not been that it was what is known as an "open winter," in fact, the trip at that time of year would have been impossible.

The trail by which they reached the monastery was free from snow, but on the lofty peaks above and in the distance glistened great blankets of snow, while during the forepart of their journey great Aconcagua's h.o.a.ry head had sparkled far away on their left for days.

"Ah, my friend," said Father Felipe, to his relative, as the party dismounted from mule back in the great courtyard of the monastery, "you are lucky, indeed, to have had such weather for travel, else would it have been impossible. Yet what terrible insanity possesses you, what fever for running up and down the land like a flea is in your blood, that you should attempt such an expedition. Well did I know how it would be with you, when I sent you that bit of ancient writing. 'Now the crazy man will leap upon his mule and come galloping at once to our gates,'

said I to myself. 'And he will cry to Father Felipe to show him the way to this lost land at once.' Is it not so, my friend?"

And Father Felipe laughed so heartily that his stout frame in its corded robe shook like a jelly. Don Ernesto, too, laughed, and leaping from his mule embraced the good priest, at least embraced as much as possible of his ample form.

"You are always the same, Felipe," said he. "How do you manage to keep so cheerful in this isolated spot, surrounded by these great mountains, with their eternal snows? It is a great mystery."

Father Felipe laughed again.

"Ah, my friend," said he, "you should have my equable disposition.

Besides, the food is good, the wine excellent. But, come. Let me know your friends, and then you shall be taken to the guest rooms. Everything is prepared for you. After you have rested a little from your journey you shall try my fare, and then tonight you shall tell me how it goes in the great world beyond our snows."

Of the weeks drifting into months which the party spent here, there is no need to tell in detail. Delays of one sort or another, a belated intensity of winter, operated to keep the party from making a start. But the life of the monastery was a novelty to all the boys, even to Ferdinand, and they found much to interest them. Moreover, from Brother Gregorio, a great linguist, the boys learned the Auraucanian tongue as well as much of the Inca lore, with which he was saturated. So that, by and large, they were far from being bored. Moreover, all three practiced at speaking Spanish until they became extremely proficient in it.

Nor did they come empty-handed. For while the good monks were doing their best to equip the boys with a knowledge of Spanish and of the Indian language of the region into which they would penetrate, the three chums had something of vast interest to impart to their instructors.

That was a knowledge of Radio.

It was Jack who thought of it first. One night, as he and Bob and Frank sat with Ferdinand and Brother Gregorio before a roaring fire in the wide chimney place of the guest room a.s.signed them as sitting room, he introduced the subject. Brother Gregorio looked blank at first. Then, as Jack in his eagerness to make himself understood, launched into a description of how speech was transmitted through the air without the means of wires, the good monk crossed himself.

"Of the telegraph I have heard," he said, "but of this other thing, not one word. Can it be right? Is this not the work of the Fiend?"

The boys were inclined to laugh, but, as if moved by the same impulse, forebore lest they wound his feelings. Ferdinand intervened. He was a devout churchman, and knew how best to disarm Brother Gregorio's suspicions and lay at rest his fears.

"It is not the work of the Fiend," said he, "but a great discovery of which the whole world rings. The Holy Father at Rome himself has manifested an interest in it, and it is but a development of the wireless telegraph which a good son of Holy Church, Signor Marconi, earlier invented."

"Ah,"

Brother Gregorio's face cleared. Then eager interest shown in his eyes.

"Tell me about it," he begged.

Jack at once launched into an explanation. He had with him, in his baggage, moreover, several textbooks of radio. These he produced, and pressed upon Brother Gregorio, whose knowledge of English would make it possible for him to study them.

"Best of all, though," added Jack, "we have our field outfit of generator, tubes, spark coils, batteries and wire with us."

"With that device of yours, Jack, you won't need an aerial," said Frank.

"You can hook in on the electric light socket."

"Righto," said Jack. "That makes it easier."

The monastery had its own electric light and power plant, turbines utilizing the power generated by a nearby waterfall in the mountains.

The device referred to by Frank was a plug to be inserted in the ordinary electric light socket, from which wires led to the aerial post of the instrument. This plug was so constructed that the alternating current, fatal to the instrument, did not pa.s.s through it. Thus the electric wiring of the house could be employed as aerial. No antenna and no clumsy lead-in was necessary.

"Look here," said Jack, "Dad has a good receiving outfit with him I know. He has packed it with him throughout the trip, and has taken precious good care of it, too. He and Ferd's father are in with Father Felipe at this time. Just excuse me, and I'll be right back. We ought to be able to make use of that outfit right now."

The whole party returned with Jack, and he and his father, a.s.sisted by Bob and Frank, set rapidly to work. As they worked, Jack talked excitedly.

"We shall have something here presently, Father Felipe, that will astonish you and Brother Gregorio. How silly of me not to think of it before. Probably, however, I did not consider there would be any radio broadcasting in this part of the world to listen to. But I remember now.

_La Presna_, the great newspaper of Buenos Ayres, recently built a great broadcasting station, and I read in a scientific article recently that it can be heard clear across the Argentine Pampas, thousands of miles, to the mountains.

"Here we are in the mountains now. And with this device of mine for hooking up, and Dad's outfit, we ought to be able to hear _La Presna's_ concerts. Now for the loud speaker, Dad. Let's hook her up, and we'll be ready."

While Jack feverishly manipulated the controls, the others looked on with varying expressions. Not a word was said. All crowded around.

Suddenly there was a faint whirring as of the buzzing of bees. Then that gave 'way to a noisy crackling. That, too, disappeared, and in its place there floated out into that ancient stone-walled room a rich, mellifluous tenor voice singing an air from "Manon."

Father Felipe and Brother Gregorio were so astounded that their mouths opened and they stood, thus, speechless, while the song continued. At its conclusion, a voice in Spanish emanated from the loud speaker, announcing the next number on the programme would be orchestral, and immediately the room was filled with the dashing rhythm of a wild Argentine melody. Number succeeded number until, in conclusion, the voice announced the concert for the following evening.

Brother Gregorio's face was radiant, but in the presence of his superior, he refrained from speech. Father Felipe, however, was under no restraint. He was delighted beyond measure. Moreover, he showed that he was a man of imagination.

"To think," said he, "that all we heard was in far-distant Buenos Ayres.

Who knows but that some day we can hear Rome just as easily? Who knows but that some day now the Holy Father himself can speak to us, his children, in his own voice, though we dwell at the ends of the earth?

Yet men foolishly say the day of miracles has pa.s.sed. This is as truly a miracle as anything that has ever happened."

He spoke with energy. His face was flushed, his eyes alight. Don Ernesto regarded his cousin slyly.