“No, Joe, it doesn’t,” answered another youth. “But we sure have got some dandy films in those boxes!” and he looked back on some laden2 burros that were following the cow ponies3 across a stretch of Arizona desert.
“Well, all I’ve got to say,” remarked the cowboy, the third member of the trio; “is that taking moving pictures is about as strenuous4 work as rounding up or branding cattle.”
“I guess you don’t quite believe that, Hank; 2do you?” asked Blake Stewart. “You haven’t seen us work so very hard; have you?”
“Work hard? I should say I have,” answered Hank Selby. “Why, the time those Indians charged our cave, and Joe and I, and Munson and his crowd were getting ready to fire point-blank at them, there you stood, with bullets whizzing near you more than once, grinding away at the handle of your moving picture camera as hard as you could. Hard work—huh!”
“But we got the films,” declared Blake, not caring to go too deeply into an argument. “And I’m anxious to see how they will develop.”
“So am I,” declared Joe. “I wonder what will be next on the program?”
“Why, you’re going to look for your father; aren’t you, Joe—your father whom you haven’t seen since you were a little chap—whom you can’t even remember?” and Blake looked sharply at his chum and partner, Joe Duncan.
“That’s what I am, Blake, just as soon as I can get to the coast. But I mean, what will we do after that? Go back to New York?”
“I suppose so, and take up our trade of making moving picture films for whoever wants them. It will be a rather tame life after the excitement we have had out here.”
3“That’s what. But maybe it will be good for a change.”
The two moving picture boys, I might explain briefly5, were on their way to Flagstaff, Arizona, after having gone out into the wilds, with a cowboy guide, Hank Selby, to make moving picture films of some Moqui Indians who had broken away from their reservation, to indulge in some of their weird6 dances and ceremonies.
While making these films, the boys and their companion, who were hidden in a cave where the Indians could not see them, saw the redmen about to torture, as they thought, four white prisoners. Joe and Blake recognized these men as their business rivals, who were also trying to get some moving picture films of the Indians, to secure a prize of a thousand dollars, offered by a New York geographical7 and ethnological society.
To fire on the Indians, and thus save the white captives, meant that Joe, Blake and Hank would disclose their position in the cave, but there was nothing else to do, and they did it.
The white captives, unexpectedly freed, came rushing toward the shelter, with the savages8 after them, and it looked as if there would be a fierce fight. In spite of this Blake held his ground, taking picture after picture.
And, in the nick of time, a troop of United 4States cavalry9 came dashing up to capture the renegade Indians, who surrendered; Blake also getting pictures of the dash of the troopers.
Unexpectedly in the company was a Sergeant10 Duncan who proved to be a half-uncle of Joe Duncan, and the sergeant was able to tell the lad where his long-lost father was last heard from, since Joe had only lately learned that his parent was living.
And so, after their strenuous time in getting pictures of the Indians, the boys were on their way to Big B ranch11, where Hank Selby was employed, and whence they had started to find the hidden savages.
But Flagstaff was the real temporary headquarters of the lads, since there was located a theatrical12 company, engaged in doing some moving picture dramas based on Western life, and Joe and Blake had been hired to “film” those plays.
They had been given a little time off to make an attempt to get views of the Indians at their ceremonies, and they expected to resume, for a time, making films of more peaceful scenes among their theatrical friends.
“Yes, we sure did have a strenuous time,” remarked Blake, as they rode along at an easy pace. “And how those Indians threw down their guns, 5and gave in, when the troopers charged against them!”
“That’s right,” agreed Joe. “And those bugle13 notes, when they started to gallop14, telling us that help was on the way, was the sweetest music I ever heard.”
“Same here,” came from Hank. “But say, if it’s all the same to you boys, I think we might as well camp here and have grub. This looks like good water and there’s enough grazing for the critters to-night. Then we can push on early in the morning, and in a couple of days more we ought to make Big B ranch.”
“It seems to take us longer coming back than it did going,” remarked Blake, as he slid from his pony, and pulled the reins15 over the animal’s head as a signal for it not to wander. “I thought we’d sure come in sight of the ranch to-day.”
“Oh, it’s farther than that,” said Hank, as he looked about for wood with which to make a fire. “I guess you were so anxious to get on the trail of the Indians on your way out that you didn’t notice how much ground you covered. And it was quite a few miles, believe me!”
“I do!” said Joe, with half a groan16. “I’m sore and stiff from so much saddle riding. I’m not used to it.”
“Oh, you’ll limber up soon,” said Hank, cheerfully. 6“Now, if you boys will get the water, and break out the grub, I’ll get supper. It’ll soon be dark.”
The lads busied themselves, and soon a cheerful little blaze was going, while the tired horses and burros, relieved of the burden of saddles and packs, were rolling luxuriously17 around at the length of their tether ropes.
“I wonder if all the Moquis and Navajos who skipped off their reservations have been driven back?” asked Joe, as they were about ready to eat.
“What makes you ask that?” inquired Blake quickly, and with a curious look at his chum.
“Oh, no special reason. But you know Captain Marsh18, of the troop in which my uncle, Sergeant Duncan, was enlisted19, said he had rounded up several bands of ’em, and I was just thinking that——”
“That maybe there were some more running around loose that we could make pictures of; is that it, Joe?”
“Well, yes. You know that society offered a prize of a thousand dollars for the best reel of ceremonial dances, but there were smaller prizes for ordinary pictures of Indians in various activities. I thought maybe we could get some of those.”
“I’m afraid not—not on this trip, at least,” 7spoke Blake. “I don’t believe there is ten feet of unexposed film left, and that wouldn’t make much of a reel. We used up all we brought with us making those cowboy pictures, the forest fire and the time the bear chased Hank, besides the Indian views. Nothing more doing in the camera line until we get back to Flagstaff.”
“Oh, well, I was just wondering,” spoke20 Joe, and he gazed off across the uneven21 stretch of country. But there was that in his voice and glance which did not bear out his unconcerned words.
However, Blake was too much occupied in getting supper just then to pay much attention to his chum, for the lad was hungry—as, indeed, his companions also seemed to be, for they attacked the simple provender22 with eagerness when Hank announced that it was ready.
The evening was setting in when they had finished, and, bringing up a pail of fresh water, in case they should get thirsty during the hours of darkness, and placing the saddles and packs in a compact mass, the three proceeded to spend the night in the open.
And yet not exactly without shelter, either, for they had with them small dog-tents, as they are called, that afford considerable protection against the night winds and dew. And, with a fire glowing 8at their feet, the travelers were far from being uncomfortable.
A pile of wood had been collected near the blaze, and while nothing was said about standing23 watch, it was understood that if any of them roused in the night he was to pile fuel on the embers, not only to keep up the genial24 heat, but to drive off any prowling beasts that might try to raid their stock of provisions.
“Well, I’m going to turn in,” finally announced Blake. “I’m dead tired.”
“And I’m with you,” added Joe.
Hank said nothing, but the boys watched him as he walked some little distance from the camp, to a slight elevation25. On this he stood, gazing off into the distance.
“I—I hardly know,” replied Blake.
And yet, in his heart, each lad was aware of something that he hesitated to put into words. Presently Hank came back, and as the firelight shone on his face his expression betrayed no anxiety—in fact, no emotion of any kind.
“Did—did you see anything, Hank?” asked Blake.
“No—nothing. Snooze away. I think—I’ll have a pipe before I go to bed,” and he sat down 9on a small box and looked into the glowing embers.
Soon afterward27, Joe, looking from his small shelter tent, saw Hank fingering his big revolver, spinning the cylinder28, and testing the mechanism29.
“Something’s up!” whispered Joe to himself. “I wonder if it can be that he saw——”
He did not finish the sentence, for just then Hank put away the weapon and soon the aromatic30 odor of burning tobacco filled the night air.
“Oh, pshaw!” exclaimed the lad. “I’m foolish to worry about nothing; I’m going to sleep!” and he turned over, and closed his eyes. But, somehow, sleep would not come at once. Even with his eyes closed he could fancy the figure of the cowboy guide sitting by the fire.
Blake seemed to be less uneasy than did his chum. If he saw Hank by the fire he made no mention of it, and from his tent came no movement that showed he was awake.
Presently Joe began to speculate on the new experience he felt would come to him, if he succeeded in locating his father.
“It really doesn’t seem possible—that I’m going to have folks at last,” murmured Joe. “And maybe not only a father, but brothers and sisters—Uncle Bill Duncan said he didn’t know. I may have more than Blake, if I keep on,” and then, 10with more pleasurable thoughts than worrying about an indefinable something, the lad finally lost himself in slumber31.
The camp was still. Even Hank had crawled into his little tent, after a final pipe. He did not get to sleep soon, and had either of the boys been awake they would have seen him come out several times before midnight, and stalk about, peering off into the darkness.
Then, after looking to the tether ropes of the animals, he would go back to the small shelters, throw some embers on the fire, and drop off into a doze32. For the cowboy was a light sleeper33, and the least sound awakened34 him.
“I guess there’ll be nothing doing,” he whispered to himself after one of these little observations. “I thought I saw some signs just about dusk, but maybe it was some slinking coyote, or a big jack35 rabbit. Anyhow, if—if anything does happen it won’t come during darkness; that is, unless it’s some of them half-breed or Mexican rustlers, and I don’t believe they’ve been around these diggings lately. I’m going to snooze.”
Soon his heavy breathing told that he slept, and several hours passed before he again awoke. If he had made one other observation, probably he would have seen that which would have aroused his suspicions, for, about an hour after 11midnight, there was an uneasy movement among the animals.
And in the starlight, which in a measure made the night less black, several shadowy, slinking forms might have been observed creeping toward the camp and the pile of provisions and supplies, among the latter of which were the boxes containing the valuable films of the moving pictures.
It was Hank, as might have been expected, who awakened. One of the burros, always an excitable, nervous beast, capered36 about and uttered a shrill37 whinny as if in fright.
Hank was out of his tent in an instant. Leaping to his feet he blazed away with his revolver. Its flash lit up the darkness, and was at once answered by half a dozen other flashes.
“Come on, boys!” yelled Hank. “They’re after us! I wasn’t mistaken, after all! I did see some of ’em sneaking38 around! Lively, now!” and he blazed away again.
“What is it?” cried Blake.
“Indians! They’re after our horses!” yelled the cowboy, as the two lads joined him.
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《Tom Swift and the Electronic Hydrolung》
《Tom Swift and his Big Tunnel》
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1
pony
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| adj.小型的；n.小马 | |
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laden
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| adj.装满了的；充满了的；负了重担的；苦恼的 | |
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ponies
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| 矮种马，小型马( pony的名词复数 )； ￡25 25 英镑 | |
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strenuous
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| adj.奋发的，使劲的；紧张的；热烈的，狂热的 | |
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briefly
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| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
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weird
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| adj.古怪的，离奇的；怪诞的，神秘而可怕的 | |
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7
geographical
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| adj.地理的；地区(性)的 | |
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8
savages
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| 未开化的人，野蛮人( savage的名词复数 ) | |
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cavalry
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| n.骑兵；轻装甲部队 | |
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10
sergeant
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| n.警官，中士 | |
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ranch
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| n.大牧场，大农场 | |
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theatrical
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| adj.剧场的，演戏的；做戏似的，做作的 | |
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13
bugle
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| n.军号，号角，喇叭；v.吹号，吹号召集 | |
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gallop
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| v./n.(马或骑马等)飞奔；飞速发展 | |
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reins
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| 感情，激情； 缰( rein的名词复数 )； 控制手段； 掌管； （成人带着幼儿走路以防其走失时用的）保护带 | |
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16
groan
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| vi./n.呻吟，抱怨；(发出)呻吟般的声音 | |
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luxuriously
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| adv.奢侈地，豪华地 | |
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marsh
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| n.沼泽，湿地 | |
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enlisted
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| adj.应募入伍的v.（使）入伍， （使）参军( enlist的过去式和过去分词 )；获得（帮助或支持） | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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uneven
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| adj.不平坦的，不规则的，不均匀的 | |
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provender
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| n.刍草；秣料 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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genial
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| adj.亲切的，和蔼的，愉快的，脾气好的 | |
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elevation
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| n.高度；海拔；高地；上升；提高 | |
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queried
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| v.质疑，对…表示疑问( query的过去式和过去分词 )；询问 | |
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afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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cylinder
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| n.圆筒，柱(面)，汽缸 | |
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29
mechanism
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| n.机械装置；机构，结构 | |
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aromatic
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| adj.芳香的，有香味的 | |
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slumber
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| n.睡眠，沉睡状态 | |
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doze
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| v.打瞌睡；n.打盹，假寐 | |
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sleeper
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| n.睡眠者，卧车，卧铺 | |
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34
awakened
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| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
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35
jack
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| n.插座，千斤顶，男人；v.抬起，提醒，扛举；n.（Jake）杰克 | |
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capered
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| v.跳跃，雀跃( caper的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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sneaking
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| a.秘密的，不公开的 | |
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