"
"All right," agreed Alan, "set your course and with luck we'll do a
little treasure hunting before dark."
This being settled, the prow of the Cibola was pointed a little west
of northwest, and, dropping to a lower stratum to escape the lively
eastern breeze at the higher altitude, the boys started at last
directly for the and arid broken mountains of Northwestern Arizona.
This region, bordering on the great sand dunes lying beyond the
Chelly River, was to be the beginning point of their arduous and
momentous search. From that place to a point nearly one hundred
miles to the southeast lay the secret fastnesses of mountain, canyon
and mesa wherein, somewhere, according to the Spanish soldier's
record, was the secret city of a dead race and the treasure that had
brought Ned and Alan half way across a continent.
What such a search meant one glance at the monotonous and unending
rock easily told. On foot, only the compass could lead a man
forward in such wilderness of abrupt heights and winding chasms. As
the boys meant to manage it, the attempt had possibilities, but it
might mean days of drifting, of watching, of doubling back and forth
over every possible site.
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