“But the crows may return,” Phyl said worriedly.
Bud shook his head hopefully. “I believe that they’ve done their work for today.” He looked down at the badly mangled helicopter and thought of how close they had come to total disaster.
Their situation, nevertheless, was far from pleasant. They were without food or supplies. The chance of a stream on this barren mesa was nil. Should they have to remain past sundown, they would suffer from the night’s intense cold, since they were not warmly dressed.
Bud, realizing the urgent need for psychology to keep the girls from becoming frightened, sprawled out casually on the ground and scooped up a handful of earth. “Do you think that the legend about buried Indian treasure on Purple Mesa could be true?” he mused aloud.
144 TOM SWIFT AND HIS GIANT ROBOT
“I’m sure it is,” said Sandy, brightening.
“The legend says its fabulous,” Phyl added. “There are supposed to be hundreds of hand-carved necklaces, solid-silver brooches, and bracelets set with precious stones.”
“Then let’s start digging,” Bud urged, relieved that he had been able to divert the girls’ minds from their plight.
Phyl and Sandy eagerly discussed the most likely spot to search.
“If I were an Indian I’d bury the treasure near that fissure,” said Bud, indicating an uneven crack in the ground. “That way I’d have a marker and know just where to find it.”
Phyl did not agree. “No wise Indian would do that. It would be too obvious.”
Using the tools Bud had taken from the helicopter, the trio began digging for the legendary treasure. Each one chose a different area to explore.