“Hold fast!” gasped Sybil, exerting all her strength. “We mustn’t let him escape.”
The fish, a twelve-pound rockcod, made a desperate fight; but unfortunately for him he had swallowed the entire hook and so his conquest was certain if the girls could hold on to the line. At last he lay flopping upon the rocks, and seeing he was unable to disgorge the hook, they dragged him to the beach, where Orissa shut her eyes and beheaded him with a hatchet from the tool chest.
In the outfit of the chest, which had evidently been intended by Steve and Mr. Cumberford for regular use in connection with the Hydro-Aircraft, they had found two aluminum plates, as well as knives and forks and spoons. Sybil cut two generous slices from the big fish and laid them upon one of the metal plates. Then they opened a can of pork and beans and secured a lump of fat to use in frying. Orissa lighted the alcohol torch and Sybil arranged some loose rocks so that they would support the plate suspended above the flame of the torch. The intense heat melted the fat and the fish was soon fried to a lovely brown. They ate it with biscuits and washed it down with ginger ale, confiding the while to one another that never had they eaten a meal so delicious.
They let the torch flicker during the repast, for night had fallen, but when from motives of economy Orissa had extinguished the flame they found a dim light suffused from a myriad of stars. Later a slender crescent moon arose, so they were able to distinguish near-by objects, even with the shadow of the bleak mountain behind them.
They had arranged their blankets in the boat and were sitting upon them, talking together in the starlight, when suddenly an unearthly cry smote their cars, followed by an answering shriek — then another, and another — until the whole island seemed echoing with a thousand terrifying whoops.
“Ku-whoo-woo-oo-oo! Ku-whoo! Ku-whoo-oo!”
The two girls clung together tremblingly as the great chorus burst upon them; but after a moment Sybil pushed her companion away with a nervous little laugh.
“Owls!” she exclaimed.
“Oh!” said Orissa, relieved as the truth dawned upon her. “I — I thought it was savages.”
“So it is. I challenge any beings to yell more savagely than those fearful hoot owls. Something must have happened to them, Ris, for they’ve never made a mutter all day long.”
“Because they have been asleep,” answered Orissa. They had to speak loudly to be heard above the turmoil of shrieks, although the owls seemed mainly congregated upon the distant mountain. The rocks everywhere were full of them, however, and hoots and answering hoots resounded from every part of the island. It was fairly deafening, as well as annoying and uncanny. They waited in vain for the noise to subside.
“There must be thousands of them,” observed Sybil. “What’s the row about, do you suppose?”
“Perhaps it’s their nature to, Syb. I wonder why we didn’t hear the pests last night. When we wakened this morning all was silent as the grave.”
“I think we floated into the bay about daylight, when all the big-eyes had ducked into their holes. Do you know, Ris, the owls must be responsible for the absence of all other life on the island? They dote on snakes and lizards and beetles and such, and they’d rob the nests of any other birds, who couldn’t protect themselves in the nighttime. So I suppose they’ve either eaten up all the other creatures or scared them to death.”
“That must be so. But, oh, Sybil! if this racket keeps up every night how are we going to be able to sleep?”
“Ah. Just inquire, Cap’n, and if you find out, let me know,” replied Sybil, yawning. “I got up so early this morning that I’m dead for sleep this blessed minute.”
“Lie down; I’ll keep watch.”
“Thank you. This lullaby is too entrancing to miss.”
The air grew cool presently, as it often does at night in the semi-tropics, and the two girls crouched down and covered themselves to their ears with the blankets. That deadened the pandemonium somewhat and as the owls showed no tendency to abate their shrieks, an hour or two of resigned submission to the inevitable resulted in drowsiness, and finally in sleep. As Sybil said next morning, no one would have believed that mortal girl could have slumbered under the affliction of such ear-splitting yells; but sleep they did, and when they wakened at daybreak profound silence reigned.
CHAPTER NINE
MISS COLUMBUS AND MISS CRUSOE
SYBIL COOKED MORE fish for their breakfast, although Orissa objected to the extravagant waste of alcohol. But her chum argued that they must waste either the alcohol or the fish and as they had a strenuous day before them a substantial breakfast was eminently desirable.
They now packed the aluminum chest and made arrangements for the voyage, for the sea in the bay was smooth as glass and the ocean seemed nearly as quiet outside. Orissa had straightened and repaired the elevator rods and firmly bolted the chest in its original position, but the control must be a matter of future tinkering, the rod needed for its repair being at present stuck in the side of the bluff.
It was easy to roll the machine down the beach into the water and set it afloat, but the difficult matter was to propel their queer, top-heavy craft through the water. A quiet sea meant no wind, nor could they feel the slightest breath of air stirring. Oars they had none, nor any substitute for such things; nor could they find anything to pole the boat along with.
“There’s just one thing to be done,” announced Orissa, gravely, “and that is for us to take turns wading behind the thing and pushing it along. By keeping close to the shore we ought to be able to accomplish our journey in that way.”
“Suppose we strike deep water?” suggested Sybil.
“We’ll stay close to shore. There seems to be a beach all the way.”
“I’m game to try,” declared Sybil, in a brisk tone, “but it seems at first sight like an impossible task. I’m glad, Miss Columbus, that under these circumstances your island is uninhabited — except by owls who can’t see in the daytime.”
“Were there other inhabitants,” returned Orissa, “we would not be undertaking such a thing. The natives would either eat us or assist us.”
“True for you, Cap’n. I’m going to keep my stockings on. They’ll be some protection against those sharp rocks which we’re liable to tread on.”
“I shall do the same,” said Orissa. “Take your seat in the boat, Syb, and I’ll do the first stunt shoving. After we get around the point I will give you a chance to wade.”
“Unanimously carried,” said Sybil.
This undertaking did not appear nearly so preposterous to the two castaways as it may to the reader sitting quietly at home. Except that circumstances had made Orissa and Sybil aeronauts at a time when few girls have undertaken to fly through the air — as many will do in the future — they were quite like ordinary girls in all respects. A capricious fate had driven them into a far-away, unknown sea and cast them upon an uninviting island, but in such unusual circumstances they did what any girls would do, if they’re the right sort; kept their courage and exercised every resource to make the most of their discouraging surroundings and keep alive until succor arrived.
So far, these two castaways had shown admirable stamina. Had either one been placed in such a position alone, the chances are she might have despaired and succumbed to girlish terrors, but being together their native pride forbade their admitting or even showing a trace of fear. In this manner they encouraged and supported one another, outwardly calm, whatever their inward tremors might be.
Orissa Kane was habitually dainty and feminine in both appearance and deportment, yet possessed a temperament cool and self-reliant. Her natural cleverness and quickness of comprehension had been fostered by constant association with her mechanical, inventive brother, and it seemed to her quite proper to help herself when no one was by to render her aid. To wade in the warm, limpid water of the Pacific, at a place far removed from the haunts of humanity, in order to propel the precious craft, on which her life and that of her companion might depend, to
a better location, seemed to this girl quite the natural thing to do. Sybil’s acute sense of humor led her to recognize the laughable side of this queer undertaking; yet even Sybil, much more frail and dependent than her beloved chum, had no thought of refusing her assistance.
The aluminum boat rode lightly upon the surface of the sea, the broad, overhanging planes scarcely interfering with its balance. Indeed, the planes probably assisted in keeping the boat upright. Orissa, knee-deep in the water, was not called upon to exert herself more than to wade; but this was a slow and tedious process and required frequent rests. At such times she would sit in the back of the boat and let her feet dangle in the warm water.
Gradually the Hy was propelled around the point of rock into the open sea, and by keeping close to shore the girl seldom found herself out of her depth, and then only temporarily.
Sybil kept up a constant chatter, inducing Orissa frequently to laugh with her, and that made the task seem more an amusement than hard labor. They took turns at the wading, as had been agreed upon, but because Orissa was much the stronger her periods of playing mermaid were longer than those of her chum.
In this manner they made good progress, and though Sybil made a great deal of fun of what she called her “patent propeller,” she took her turn at wading very seriously and pushed the strange craft through the water at a good rate of speed. By midday they reached the point where the bluff began to rise and here they sat together in the boat, shaded by the planes, and ate their luncheon with hearty appetites. They found it high tide, yet the water was more quiet than on the preceding day, and when they resumed their journey their progress was much more rapid than before.
By two o’clock they had cautiously propelled the boat around the huge boulder that marked the ravine they had found and soon after had rolled it upon the sandy beach and anchored it securely beyond the reach of the tide.
“If it would fly,” said Orissa, “I think we could push it to the top of the bluff; but if we use it at all, before our friends arrive, it must be as a boat, and not an aeroplane.”
“Then,” returned Sybil, “let’s remove the canvas from the lower plane and make a tent of it.”
“I’ve been thinking of that,” said Orissa, “and I’m sure it is a wise thing to do. I know how to take the clips off, and it won’t injure the cloth in the least.”
“Then get busy, and I’ll help you.”
So, after a good rest on the beach in the sun they resumed their clothing. The wet stockings were thoroughly dried by the sun by the time they were ready for them, and presently they set to work removing the cloth from the lower plane. The task was almost completed when Sybil suddenly exclaimed:
“How about a frame for our tent?”
Orissa looked puzzled.
“Come up on the bluff,” she proposed.
The incline was not at all difficult and they soon stood on top the bluff. A thorough examination of the place disclosed no means of erecting the tent. A few dead branches that had fallen from the banana trees lay scattered about and there was a quantity of anaemic shrubbery growing here and there, but there was nothing to furnish poles for the tent or to support it in any way.
“Stumped, Columbus!” laughed Sybil, as they squatted together in the shade of the trees. “We shall have to drag up the aeroplane, after all, and use the plane-frame for our ridge-pole.”
Orissa demurred at this.
“There is always a way to do a thing, if one can think how,” she said.
“In this case, chummie dear, magic or legerdemain seems the only modus operandi,” maintained Sybil. But Orissa was thinking, and as she thought she glanced at the trees.
“Why, of course!” she exclaimed.
Sybil’s eyes questioned her gravely.
“Come on!” cried Orissa, jumping up.
“Not a step, Miss Columbus, until I’m enlightened.”
“Oh, Crusoe, can’t you see? It is so extremely simple that I’m ashamed of our stupidity. We’ve but to stretch our coil of wire between these two trees, throw the canvas over it and weight the bottom with rocks to hold it in place.”
Sybil sighed.
“It was too easy,” she admitted. “I never could guess an easy conundrum; but give me a hard nut to crack and I’m a regular squirrel.”
They returned to the beach for the canvas and wire and Orissa took several of the clips, with which to fasten together the ends of their tent. Ascending once more, this time heavily loaded, to the group of bananas on the bluff, they proceeded to attach the wire to two of the trees. The plane-cover was large enough to afford a broad spread to their “A” tent and when the lower edges were secured by means of heavy stones, and the scattered rocks cleared away from the interior, their new domicile seemed roomy and inviting.
Their next task was to fetch the aluminum chest from the beach, and after they had lightened its weight by leaving in the boat all the tools except the hatchet and a small hack saw, they were able to carry the chest between them, although forced to make frequent stops to rest.
“The lack of a bedstead worries me most,” remarked Sybil. “I don’t like the idea of sleeping on the bare ground. How would it do, Ris, to build a stone bed — something like an altar, you know, with a hollow center which we could fill with sand?”
“That is a capital idea, Crusoe, and will help clear our front yard of some of those flat stones. They are mostly slate, I think, instead of rock formation. Heave-ho, my hearty, and we’ll do the job in a jiffy.”
The girls lugged into the tent a number of stones of such size as they could comfortably move, and then Orissa, who could put her hand to almost any sort of work, planned and built the extraordinary bedstead. It was laid solid, at first, but when about a foot from the ground she began to extend the sides of the pile and leave a hollow in the middle. This hollow they afterward filled with sand, carrying it in their dress-skirts from the beach. When finally the “Altar to Morpheus” — as Sybil persisted in calling it — was completed, they spread their blankets upon it and it made a very comfortable place to sleep.
They also erected a small rock stove, for there was enough firewood to be gathered, in the way of fallen branches, dead leaves and “peelings” from the tree-trunks, to last them for several days. The hatchet and hack saw helped prepare these scraps to fit the stove and by sundown the girls felt quite settled in their new residence.
“We ought to fly a flag of distress from some place high up on those trees,” observed Orissa; “but we’ve no flag and no way to shin up the tree.”
“Couldn’t any ship see our white tent from the ocean?” asked Sybil.
“Yes; I think so.”
“As for climbing the tree,” continued Sybil, “I wish your creative brain would evolve some way to do it. Those fat, yellow bananas look mighty tempting and they would serve to eke out our larder. Supplies are beginning to diminish with alarming rapidity, Ris. Only a box and a half of those biscuits left.”
“I know,” said Orissa, soberly. “To-morrow we will see what may be done to capture the bananas.”
After a time Sybil said, softly: “By to-morrow we may begin to look for Daddy and Steve. Of course it will take them some time to find us, but — Don’t you think, Orissa, they’re quite certain to find us, in the end?”
Orissa looked at her companion with a gleam of pity in her deep blue eyes; but she had no desire to disturb Sybil’s confidence in their rescue, whatever misgivings oppressed her own heart.
“I believe they will find us,” she affirmed. “It may not be to-morrow, you know, nor in a week, nor — perhaps — in a month — ”
“Oh, Orissa!”
“But they’ll cover the entire Pacific in their search, I am positive, and sooner or later they’ll come to this island and — take us away.”
“Alive or dead,” added Sybil, gloomily.
“Oh, as for that, we are perfectly safe, and healthy — so far — and I imagine we could live for a long time on this island, if obliged to
.”
Again they sat silently thinking, while twilight gave way to darkness and darkness was relieved by the pale moonlight.
Suddenly a shriek sounded in their ears. A great white bird swooped down from the mountain and passed directly between their two heads, disappearing into the night with another appalling cry. This shriek was answered by another and another, until the whole island resounded with the distracting “Ku-whoo-oo!”
“The owls are awake,” said Orissa, rising resignedly. “Come into the tent, Sybil. I’m not sure they wouldn’t attack us if we remained in the open.”
CHAPTER TEN
MADELINE DENTRY’S PROPOSITION
AT THE AVIATION field the crowd had watched the departure of the two girls, flying the famous Kane Hydro-Aircraft, with eager interest but assured confidence in their making a successful trip. The Flying Girl never indulged in accidents, and her skill was universally admitted. To be sure, there was an added risk in flying over the water, but with a motor boat to sustain them when they alighted, the danger was reduced to a minimum and, in the minds of nearly all the spectators, a triumphant return was unquestioned. Hundreds of glasses followed the flight and although the management sent several bird-men into the air to amuse the throng the real interest remained centered on the dim speck that marked the course of the Flying Girl.
No sooner had Orissa and Sybil started on their voyage than Stephen Kane and Mr. Cumberford ran to the bluff overlooking the sea, where with powerful binoculars they could obtain an unobstructed view of the entire trip to the island and back again. Presently Madeline Dentry joined them, in company with Mr. and Mrs. Tupper, all standing silently with leveled glasses.
“She’s working beautifully,” muttered Steve, referring to his invention with boyish delight. “I’m sorry Ris didn’t make a straight line of it, but she always likes to give the dear public the worth of their money... Ah-h!”
“By Jove! that was an awkward turn,” cried Mr. Cumberford, as they saw the Aircraft keel at a dangerous angle and then slowly right itself. “I’m surprised at Orissa. She usually makes her turns so neatly.”
Complete Works of L. Frank Baum Page 554