He speedily drove this impression from his mind,
however, with:
"Pshaw! the sleepless night I passed has made me nervous."
After breakfast there was so much to be done that there was no more
time to waste on gloomy forebodings and the boys started, as soon as
the camp had been put in order, on their expedition up the
mountain-side to the Upturned Face--which was to be the starting
point for the uncovering of the secret ivory hoard.
The climb was quite as stiff as Frank had anticipated and, laden as
they were with the rope-ladder and the other equipment, it was
rendered even tougher. All three carried water-canteens covered
with wet felt, containing half-a-gallon each. Frank had insisted on
this as it was doubtful if they could find water at the summit of
the mountain.
As the sun rose higher in the sky and beat down on the bare rock
ridges over which the adventurers were making their way, it became
as uncomfortable as any expedition on which the boys had ever beer
engaged.
"Talk about New Mexico or Death Valley," exclaimed Harry, "I feel
like a piece of butter rolled up in a paper and I've melted."
"I feel like a Welsh rarebit myself," laughed Frank, "how about you,
Ben?"
"I feel like a pot of boiling tar with a fire lighted under me,"
growled the veteran angrily; "consarn these rocks, I'd give a whole
lot for a bit of that shade we left behind us.
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