Originally published: 1892?
Genres: Science Fiction
Gutenberg link: https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/66206
Chapters: 12
Warning: This may include outdated and derogatory language and attitudes.
CHAPTER I
A STRANGE STORY FROM YUCATAN
Frank Reade, Jr. the distinguished inventor of many wonderful machines, particularly the new Steam Man, sat in his library one winter’s day reading a newspaper.
His wife sat near him engaged in some light needlework. She looked up to see a peculiar expression on her husband’s handsome face.
“Well, that is strange,” exclaimed Frank Reade, Jr., with a whistle of surprise. “I am positive that is my old friend, Buckden, whom I knew at college. Upon my word, this breaks me all up.”
“What is it, Frank?” asked Mrs. Reade, with interest.
“Why, Tony Buckden, an old college mate of mine, it seems has turned his wits to mining engineering. This has taken him down to Central America, to Yucatan, and a cablegram has just been received in New York, stating that Tony had become separated from his party and lost in the jungle. For six weeks he was searched for in vain.”
“How terrible.”
“It is more than likely that he has fallen prey to wild beasts. Yet his father, the millionaire, Thomas Buckden, of New York, comes out with an offer of $50,000 to the person who will furnish positive proof that his son is alive, and bring him safely home.”
“That is a large reward,” ventured Mrs. Reade. “I hope somebody will win it.”
“Poor Tony!” exclaimed Frank, with emotion. “I declare I almost feel it my duty to go to his rescue.”
“What! leave home again so soon?”
“Yet what is my duty, dear wife? It would seem that my dear friend’s life is at stake. Ought I not to sacrifice something to save him?”
“What? You don’t really think of going yourself?”
“I don’t know,” replied Frank, agitatedly pacing the floor. “I don’t see who else can go and stand the rigors of that climate, dare the dangers of the jungle, the wild beasts and natives, and succeed in rescuing Tony.”
“Are you sure that you can do it?”
“Ought I not to be reasonably sure? Have I not the Steam Man? Barney and Pomp I am sure would go with me.”
“I hope you will not be so foolish as to go.”
“I cannot say yet, my dear. I must satisfy myself completely that it is my duty. But I think I will walk down to the shop and see the Steam Man.”
Frank bent down and kissed his wife and children and then left the house.
But just as he was going down the steps the mail carrier handed him a letter. Thus it was superscribed:
“To Frank Reade Jr., Readestown, U. S. A.”
Frank glanced at the foreign postmark and then broke the seal and read:
“Dear Friend Frank—I have been thinking of you of late and so feel constrained to write you. Moreover, I have a big scheme in which I want to interest you. While at Campeachy I fell in with a native trader from Valladolid. I was fortunate enough to do him a service and gain his friendship, and as a reward, he accorded me a most astonishing tale and secret.
“He told me of his travels in the interior through jungle and swamp and forest. Also of the deadly animals and reptiles, the poisonous insects, and all the great dangers and pitfalls of the traveler in those latitudes.
“But more than this, he told me a wonderful story of a ruined city far up in the inaccessible tablelands of Tanada.
“No doubt you are familiar with the accounts of the ancient cities of Palonque and others. Well, I imagine that this ruined city, Mazendla he called it, is one of the same sort.
“But Metlo, which is the name of my informant, described a vast temple in which he said there were vast treasures of gold, silver, and jewels. But ever since discovered this temple has been a perfect nest of gigantic anacondas, and none of the natives have ever ventured into the place.
“Only one man ever lived to get out of the place, and he brought forth enough gold and jewels to ensure his wealth for life.
“And there today lies untold wealth all in the possession of the anacondas.
“Many attempts have been made by the natives to destroy the snakes. A great body of men once attempted it. Six of the snakes were killed, but there seemed to be fully half a hundred left. The place seemed alive with them, and a dozen men falling victim to the monsters the attempt was abandoned.
“From that day to this no attempt has been made to recover the wealth. Metlo told me that no white man ever visited the region.
“The journey thither is a dangerous one on account of beasts and poisonous reptiles. Yet I believe it can be made. I have thought of you and your wonderful Steam Man and I feel sure that with the aid of you and your wonderful invention, the treasure can be recovered.
“Now, Frank, I humbly beg of you if possible come down here and embark on this enterprise with me.
“Of course, I have plenty of money, my father being a millionaire, but I have a powerful desire to visit the ruined city of Mazendla and do battle with those anacondas.
“I can do it alone, but I can succeed better with the aid of your Steam Man. As a favor, I beg of you to write me at once to Campeachy. And now, my dear Frank, hoping to hear from you soon and favorably, I am as ever your friend.
Tony Buckden.”
Frank Reade, Jr., drew a deep breath as he finished reading this stirring epistle.
His eyes shone like stars and his whole being was stirred up.
It was certainly just the kind of trip he would fancy. His adventurous spirit was fired and he muttered:
“That is a new field to explore. Ah! I would like to try it. But let me see! This letter has been coming in lazy stages and has been three weeks on the way. The cablegram was received a few days ago. Since then he has become lost in the jungle. Poor Tony! He must be rescued, and who is there to do it but me?”
Frank passed down the street in deep abstraction of mind.
The wind was chill and piercing, and there was snow in the air, as well as on the ground.
Suddenly around a corner came a man on the dead run.
But as his feet struck a bit of ice, they went out from under him, and he went sliding clear across the sidewalk and into a vast snow bank.
He was literally buried, but quickly dug himself out, spluttering and jawing like mad.
“I jes’ pays yo’ back fo’ dat, I’ish. Yo’ jes’ stop yo’ foolin’ wif dis chile, or yo’ gits inter trubbel right away. Jes’ yo’ hear dat.”
“Whurroo! Bejabers, it’s a foine looking black man yez are now. Ha, ha, ha! Yez would pass for a Santa Claus now to be shure. It’s nearer white yez are than yez iver will be agin.”
The victim of the snow bank, who, as the reader may have guessed, was a black man, dug the snow from his ears and eyes with supreme rage and disgust.
His companion was an Irishman, as his rich brogue would indicate. They had been having a lark at snow-balling, and the Irishman was chasing the black man around the corner when he took his fall.
It required but a glance for Frank Reade Jr. to recognize the skylarkers.
They were faithful servitors of his and were named Barney and Pomp.
They were a legacy from Frank’s father, and in all the famous young inventor’s travels these servants had accompanied him.
Nobody could be more attached to a master than they were to Frank.
And now, as they caught sight of him approaching, they straightened up and both doffed their hats.
“I’se done glad to see yo’, Marse Frank.”
“I hope yez air well, Misther Frank.”
“Barney and Pomp!” cried Frank, eagerly. “You are just the fellows I want to see.”
“Whurroo!” shouted Barney. “We’re ready for anythin’, Misther Frank, from a shindy to a ruction.”
“I don’t doubt it,” replied Frank with a smile. “But here’s a letter you may read, and tell me what you think of it.”
“A letther!” gasped Barney.
He took the missive, and with Pomp at his shoulder, it was read by both. Frank watched them intently.
It was evident that the letter had made a powerful impression on them.
“Well!” said Frank, when they had finished. “What do you think of it?”
“Be jabers I’d loike nothing betther than a go at some av them forty-foot snakes. Shure, it’s a foine thrip that would be fer ther Stheam Man, Misther Frank.”
“Ki dar, Marse Frank!” cried Pomp, with eyes big as moons. “Kain’t say dis chile likes snakes, but yo’ kin jes’ bet he’d like to go dar jes’ de same.”
“Good!” cried Frank, “then if I conclude to go, you’ll be all ready?”
“Yo kin jes’ bet we will.”
“Make no doubt av that.”
“All right,” said Frank, buttoning his coat closer, “be in readiness for I may decide to go.”
The young inventor went on down the street.
In a few moments, he came to the entrance of the big yards of the Reade Machine Shop.
Here at the entrance was the sumptuously furnished office. Frank entered, and an elderly patrician-looking gentleman who was pacing the floor, excitedly rushed up to him, crying:
“Are you Mr. Frank Reade Jr.?”
“I am,” replied Frank.
“Thank God you have come at last! Here is my card.”
Frank took it and read:
“Thomas Buckden, New York City.”
“Indeed!” exclaimed the young inventor, affably. “I am glad to welcome you here, Mr. Buckden. I believe I know your son well, and—”
“Oh, then you remember him well,” cried the old gentleman, excitedly. “Thank Heaven for that! It will perhaps influence you to accede to the request I have to make. Oh, have—have you heard about my son?”
“I have heard that your son at last accounts had become lost in the jungle,” replied Frank.
“Yes, yes, but we believe that he has been captured and held a prisoner by a wild tribe of savages known in that vicinity as the Tanadas.”
“It is quite likely.”
“God grant it may be so. Oh, sir, listen to an agonized father’s prayers. They tell me that you have the necessary equipment and are the only man who can go into those wilds and rescue my boy. Now I am a wealthy man and will pay—”
“Stop!” said Frank, imperatively. “Do not speak to me of pay! I knew your son; he was my college friend. I am only too glad to be able to go to his aid. I will say this much—that before three days I shall start from New Orleans with my Steam Man on board a special steamer for Campeachy. You may if you choose see to the chartering of the steamer.”
“A fleet if you wish it!” cried Mr. Buckden. “Oh, accept my deepest gratitude, Mr. Reade, and—bring my boy safely back.”
“I will try,” replied Frank.
“God bless you! But this wonderful Steam Man—I have never seen it.”
“Come with me and I will be glad to show it to you,” said Frank.
The young inventor led the way into a high-roofed chamber with large doors that opened out into the yard.
Here was a sight such as Mr. Buckden had never seen the like of.
Standing in the center of the huge chamber was the Steam Man, the wonder of the century.
Since his western trip, Frank had had the Man thoroughly repaired, and he was now in perfect condition to go out on a trip.
“What do you think of him?” asked Frank.
“Simply wonderful!” replied Mr. Buckden, admiringly.
“If you will please step this way I will be glad to show you how he is made, and how he is able to go.”
Frank led the way to the other side of the invention, and then with pardonable pride began explicitly to illustrate the fine points of the Steam Man.
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