Complete Works of L. Frank Baum

by L. Frank Baum

  “Then please wake me up. Where do you suppose we are, anyhow?”

  “I’ve no idea,” answered Orissa, soberly. “We must have traveled a couple of hundred miles, but it wasn’t in a straight line, by any means. Let’s see. Perhaps a hundred miles on our first course — over Sealskin Island and nearly south — then forty or fifty miles north — ”

  “Oh, no; west.”

  “Yes; so it was. Then twenty-odd miles south, ten miles or so east, a couple or three miles west again, and then — and then — ”

  “Dear me! Don’t bother your head with it, Orissa. We zigzagged like a drunken man. The only fact we can positively nail is that we were getting farther away from home — or our friends, rather — every minute. That’s a bad thing, come to think of it. They’ll never know where to search for us.”

  “True,” responded Orissa. “But I am sure they will search, and search diligently, so we must manage to keep afloat until they find us. What shall we do now, Sybil?”

  “Sleep,” was the prompt reply. “If we lift this seat off — it seems to be removable — I think there is room enough for us both to cuddle down in the bottom of the boat.”

  “Oh, Sybil!” This from Orissa, rather reproachfully.

  “Well, I can’t imagine anything more sensible to do,” asserted her chum, with a yawn. “These air-rides not only encourage hunger, but sleep. Did you cork that bottle of water? I want another drink.”

  “I — I think we’d better economize on the water,” suggested Orissa, “at least until morning, when we can find out if there’s any more in the chest.”

  “All right. Help me bail out this overflow and then we’ll cuddle down.”

  “Steve said there were two blankets in the chest,” said Orissa, presently, when the bottom of the boat was dry. “I’ll search for them.”

  She found the blankets easily, by feeling through the contents of the chest. Offering no further objection to Sybil’s plan, she prepared their bed for the night. Neither of these girls had ever “roughed it” to any extent, but in spite of the peril of their situation and the liability of unforeseen dangers overtaking them, they were resourceful enough and courageous enough to face the conditions with a degree of intrepid interest. Afloat on an unknown part of the broad Pacific, with merely a tiny aluminum boat for protection, with final escape from death uncertain and chances of rescue remote, these two carefully nurtured young girls, who had enjoyed loving protection all their lives, were so little influenced by fear that they actually exchanged pleasantries as they spread their blankets and rolled themselves in the coverings for the night.

  “The lack of a pillow bothers me most,” remarked Sybil. “I think I shall rest my head on one of those cans of baked beans.”

  “I advise you not to; you might eat them in your sleep,” was Orissa’s comment.

  “May I rest my head upon you, chummie dear?”

  “You may not. Try the engine.”

  “That’s hard. And there are enough wheels in my head already, without pounding my ear with them. Suggest something else.”

  “Your own elbow, then.”

  “Thanks, dear. Where’s that slab of aluminum that used to be a seat?”

  It was a happy thought and furnished them both with a headrest. The seat was not an ideal pillow, but it answered the purpose because there was nothing better.

  CHAPTER SIX

  CASTAWAYS

  WELL, I DECLARE!” exclaimed Orissa, sitting After a moment Sybil said, sleepily:

  “Go ahead and declare it, Ris. Only, if we’re drowned, please break the news to me gently!”

  “How strange!” muttered Orissa, still staring.

  Sybil stirred, threw off the blanket and also rose to a sitting position.

  “If it’s a secret,” she began, then — ”Oh, goodness me!”

  During the night the boat with its great overhead planes had gently floated into a little bay, where the water was peaceful as a millpond. Two points of black rock projected on either side of them, outlining the bay. Between these points appeared an island — a mass of tumbled rocks guiltless of greenery. There was a broad strip of clean, smooth sand on the shore, barely covering the slaty ledge, but back of that the jumble of rocks began, forming irregular hillocks, and beyond these hillocks, which extended for some distance inland, there seemed to be a great dip in the landscape — or rockscape — far back of which arose a low mountain formed of the same unlovely material as all else.

  “It’s an island!” gasped Sybil, rubbing her eyes to make sure they were working properly. “Now, see here, Cap’n Ris, I want it understood right now which one of us is to be Robinson Crusoe and which the Man Friday. Seems to me, I being the passenger and you the charioteer, the prestige is on my side; so I claim the Crusoe part. I can’t grow whiskers, and I’m not likely to find a parrot to perch on my shoulder, but I’ll promise to enact the part as well as circumstances will permit.”

  “I can’t see a sign of life,” announced Orissa, regretfully. “There isn’t even a bird hovering over the place.”

  “Lizards and snakes among the rocks, though, I’ll bet,” responded Sybil, with a grimace. “All these rocky Pacific islands are snaky, they say. I wonder if I can learn to charm ‘em. You don’t object to my being Crusoe, do you?”

  Orissa sighed; then she turned to her cheery comrade with a smile.

  “Not at all,” said she. “But I’ll be Columbus, the Discoverer, for I’ve discovered a desert island while you were peacefully dreaming.”

  “There’s no desert about your island,” stated Sybil. “A desert would be a relief. What you’ve discovered, Miss Ris Columbus — or what’s discovered us, rather — is a rock heap.”

  “Desert or not, it’s deserted, all right,” maintained Orissa.

  “And you may not have discovered it, after all,” said Sybil, musingly examining the place. “These seas have been pretty well explored, I guess, and although no nation would particularly care to pin a flag to this bunch of rocks, the maps may indicate it clearly.”

  “Ah, if we only had a map!” cried Orissa eagerly.

  “What good would it do us?” asked Sybil. “It couldn’t help us to find ourselves, for we don’t know what especial dot on the map we’ve arrived at. With Muggins’ Complete Atlas in hand, and a geography teacher thrown in, we wouldn’t be able to pick out this island from the ones that litter these seas.”

  “That is, unfortunately, quite true,” sighed Orissa; “and anyhow it’s not worth an argument because we have no map. But we must be up and doing, Sybil. If we are to keep ourselves alive, we must take advantage of every favorable circumstance.”

  “What time is it?” yawned Sybil.

  Orissa looked at her watch.

  “A little after six.”

  “Call me at eight. I can’t get up at six o’clock; it’s too early, entirely.”

  “But you went to bed at about seven.”

  “Did I? Well, how about breakfast?”

  “We must inspect our stores and take inventory. Then we must plan to make the provisions last as long as possible.”

  “How dreadful! Why, this is a real adventure, Ris — threatened famine, and all that. We’re regular castaways, like we read about in the fifteen-cent story magazines, and I — wouldn’t be surprised if we had to endure many inconveniences; would you?”

  “Sybil,” said Orissa earnestly, “we are face to face with privation, danger, and perhaps death. I’m glad you can be cheerful, but we must understand our terrible position and endeavor to survive as long as possible. We know very well that our friends will have a hard time finding us, for they cannot guess what part of the ocean we descended in. It may take days — perhaps weeks — for them to discover us in this dreary place, and meantime we must guard our safety to the best of our ability.”

  “Naturally,” agreed Sybil, duly impressed by this speech. “Your head is clearer and better than mine, Orissa; so you shall take command, and I’ll gladly follow you
r instructions. You mean to land, don’t you? I’m tired of this cramped little boat and even a rocky island is better than no refuge at all.”

  “Of course we must land,” replied Orissa; “and that, I think, must be our first task. The shore is only a stone’s throw from here, but we’re fast on a sand bar, and how to get off is a problem.”

  Sybil began to take off her leggings, then her shoes and stockings.

  “We’ll wade,” she said.

  Orissa peered over the side.

  “It’s very shallow. I think we can wade to shore, Syb, and pull the Hy in after us. We must get the whole thing high and dry on the beach, if possible.”

  Sybil plumbed the water by tying a can of sardines to a cord from around one of the parcels.

  “I guess we can make it all right, Cap’n,” she said. “It’s not very deep.”

  “It may be a lot deeper closer in. But I guess we’ll have to take a chance on it. And if the worst comes to the worst we can dry our clothes on the beach.”

  The sun was showing brilliantly above the horizon as the two girls stepped into the water. Both could swim fairly well, but where the boat was grounded on the sand bar the water was scarcely knee-deep. They dragged Steve’s invention over the bar with little difficulty, the wheels materially assisting their efforts. Beyond the bar the water deepened in spots, and once, as they drew the wrecked Hy after them, the waves reached perilously high. Then they struck the shelving beach and found hard sand under their feet.

  By pushing and hauling energetically they managed to run the boat, with its attached planes, to the shore, where the wheels on either side enabled them to roll it up the slope until, as Orissa said, it was “high and dry.”

  “Seems to me,” remarked Sybil, panting, “we ought to have breakfasted first, for all this exercise has made me ravenous. That’ll diminish our precious store of eatables considerably, I fear.”

  With the machine safely landed they proceeded to dress themselves, after which Orissa arranged upon the sand the entire contents of the aluminum chest. A kit of tools, adapted for use on the Aircraft, together with some extra bolts, a strut or two and a coil of steel wire were first placed carefully on one side.

  “With these,” said the girl, “I can easily repair the damage to our machine.”

  “But what’s the use, without gasoline?” asked Sybil.

  Orissa had no reply to this. She proceeded to inspect the provisions. Mr. Cumberford had a way of always providing enough for a regiment when he intended to feed a few, so in ordering lunch for two girls on an aerial voyage his usual prodigality had been in evidence. Perhaps with an intuition that a delay or even an accident might occur to Sybil and Orissa, the old gentleman had even exceeded his record, in this instance. A big box of dainty sandwiches had been supplemented by three cartons of biscuits, a whole Edam cheese, a bottle of pickles, two huge packages of cakes and eighteen tins of provisions, provided with keys for opening them. These consisted of sardines, potted ham and chicken, baked beans, chipped beef and the like. In another parcel was a whole roasted duck, in still another an apple pie, while two jars of jam completed the list of edibles. For the voyagers to drink Mr. Cumberford had added two half-gallon jars of distilled water, a bottle of grape juice, two of ginger ale and one of lemonade.

  The girls examined this stock with profound gravity.

  “I wish,” said Orissa, “there had been more bread and biscuits, for we are going to need the substantials rather more than the delicacies.”

  “Thank goodness we have anything!” exclaimed Sybil. “I suppose we must breakfast on the cakes and jam, and save the other truck until later.”

  “That’s the idea,” approved Orissa. “The cakes won’t keep for long; even the sandwiches will outlast them, I think.”

  “True, if I eat all the cake I want,” added Sybil. “Cakes and jam make a queer breakfast, Orissa. In New England the pie would be appropriate.”

  “Let’s save the pie — for lunch.”

  “Agreed. Breakfast isn’t usually my strong point, you know.”

  As they ate, seated together upon the sands, they cast many curious glances at the interior of the island — a prospect forbidding enough.

  “Do you know,” said Orissa, “the scarcity of food doesn’t worry me so much as the scarcity of water. Grape juice and ginger ale are well enough in their way, but they don’t take the place of water.”

  “We may possibly find water on this island,” replied Sybil, after a little thought.

  “I don’t believe it. I’ve an idea that, hunt as we may, we shall find nothing more than rocks, and rocks, and rocks — any where and everywhere.”

  “That’s merely a hunch, and I distrust hunches. It will be better to explore,” suggested Sybil.

  “Yes; I think we ought to do that. But — the snakes.”

  “Ah, the exclusive rock theory is already exploded,” said Sybil, with a laugh. “Yet even snakes can’t exist without water, can they? Just the thought of the wrigglers makes me shudder, but if they are really our co-inhabitants here we won’t be safe from them even on this shore. Have we anything in the way of clubs?”

  Orissa considered the question. Then she went to the machine and with a wrench unfastened the foot-bar, which was long enough to extend across both seats and was made of solid steel. She also took the bolts out of one of the levers, which when released became an effective weapon of defense. Thus armed, and feeling somewhat more secure, the girls prepared to move inland to explore their new habitation.

  They found the climb over the loose rocks adjoining the shore to be quite arduous, and aside from the difficulties of the way they had to exercise constant caution for fear of snakes. They saw none of these dreaded reptiles, however, and when they came to the hillocks, they selected a path between the two most promising and began the ascent, keeping close together. So jagged were the tumbled masses of rock and so irregular in their formation that it was not a question of walking so much as crawling, but with their leggings, stout shoes and thick cloth skirts they were fairly protected from injury.

  The silence throughout the island was intense. The girls spoke in hushed tones, awed by their uncanny surroundings. From a clear sky the sun beat down upon their heads and was refracted from the rocks until the heat was oppressive. Added to this a pungent, unrecognized odor saluted their nostrils as they progressed inland. “Reminds me of the smell of a drug store,” asserted Sybil; but Orissa replied: “It’s more like the smell of a garage, I think.”

  After a long and weary climb they reached the brow of the rock hills and were able to look down into the “dip” or valley which lay between them and the mountain. The center of the depression, which was three or four miles across, appeared to be quite free from rocks except in a few places where one cropped up in the form of a hummock. Elsewhere the surface seemed smooth and moist, for it was covered with an oozy, stagnant slime which was decidedly repulsive in appearance.

  Looking beyond this forbidding valley they discovered the first interesting thing they had yet observed. At the right base of the far-away mountain, lying between it and the sea, was a patch of vivid green, crowning an elevation that distinctly separated it from the central depression of the island. It might be grass or underbrush, this alluring greenery, but in any event it proved a grateful sight to eyes wearied by the dull waste of rocks. From the point where the girls stood they could also see the top of a palm tree which grew around the edge of the mountain.

  “Well!” said Orissa, drawing a long breath, “there is the first sign of life — animal or vegetable — we have found in this wilderness. That tree must indicate water, Sybil.”

  “Whatever it indicates,” was the reply, “yonder bluff is a better place for our camp than the bay where we floated ashore. How shall we get to it, though? It will be a heart-breaking climb cross-lots over these interminable rocks.”

  “An impossible climb,” Orissa agreed. “I think our best plan will be to go around the island, foll
owing the sandy beach. It seems from here as if that bluff drops sheer down to the sea, but it will be much easier for us to climb a bluff than to navigate these rocks. Let’s go back and try it.”

  Cautiously and laboriously they made their way back to the beach, feeling considerably cheered by what they had seen and reassured by the total absence of the dreaded “wigglers.” After resting a little from their exertions they prepared for the more important journey of discovery. Sybil carried some food and the bottle of lemonade, while Orissa secured two straps from the aeroplane and the coil of wire. Then, still armed with their steel bars, they set out along the beach.

  Their first task was to climb the rocks of the point which formed the bay, where it jutted out from the shore. This being accomplished they encountered another stretch of smooth beach, which gradually circled around the north end of the island. Here it was easy walking and they made good progress, but the coast line was so irregular that it wound in and out continually, and in places huge boulders interrupted their passage and obliged them either to climb or wade, whichever seemed the most desirable.

  “Already,” sighed Sybil, “we have tramped a thousand miles. Did you mark that place, Orissa, so we will know when we come to it?”

  “Yes; I can tell it by the position of the sun. That side of the island faces the northwest.”

  “And we haven’t passed it?”

  “No; but we must be drawing near to it. I’ve been looking for the bluff the last half hour. The green place was quite elevated, you remember, and must be well above the sea level. Look ahead; you’ll notice the rocks are gradually rising, from here on.”

  Sybil nodded and again they trudged on. As the rocks grew higher at their left, the girls kept to the narrow strip of beach, which was beginning to be washed by an occasional wave.

  “The tide is rising,” announced Orissa; “but we shall be at the bluff very soon, and can then climb above this moisture. Feet wet, Syb?”

  “Pickled in brine. Wet feet signify a cold; cold signifies la grippe; la grippe signifies a doctor; the doctor signifies a depleted bank account. Science of deduction, Ris. It’s only a step from wet feet to poverty.”