One glance told the whole sad story. Two dead horses alone marked
the spot where their freight wagon had stood. Alan aroused Ned, and
as the Cibola sailed low over the place the boys saw that the
thieving Utes had gone--with the wagon, horses, freight and their
dead companions.
Poor Buck's body was lying where the brave escort had fallen.
"We can't make two landings," suggested Ned. "We'll find the
gasoline and then come back and bury our friend."
Disappointed, although they had really in their hearts expected
nothing less, the young navigators turned the Cibola and sailed
slowly down the river in the hope that the gasoline would be found
where Elmer had described it as lying.
They were as richly rewarded here as they had been previously
disappointed. The drift, a tangled jumble of small mountain wood,
had caught and preserved seven of their eight tins of gasoline.
It was now noon, and broiling hot, but luncheon was not thought of
and the difficult work of recovering the heavy packages was begun.
This presented a new difficulty, for again the boys were determined
not to lose any gas in making a landing.
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