“I’ve an idea that blamed steering gear stuck,” said Steve, ruefully. “I’ve been a little afraid of it, all along. But the girls are all right now. They’re headed dead for the island and if Orissa makes a neat drop to the water the rest is easy.”
No one spoke again for a time, all being intent upon the flying-machine. When it had seemed to reach the island, and even to pass over it, without a halt, there was an excited hum of amazement from the grand stand.
Madeline glanced at Stephen Kane’s face and found it as white as a sheet. He was staring with dilated eyes toward the Aircraft.
“What in the mischief is Orissa up to now?” questioned Mr. Cumberford, uneasily. “Wasn’t she to alight this side of the island?”
“Yes,” answered Steve hoarsely.
“Then — She can’t be joking, or playing pranks. It isn’t like her. Why, they haven’t swerved a hair’s breadth from the course, or even slackened speed. They — they — ”
“They’re in trouble, I’m afraid,” said Steve in trembling tones. “The control has failed them and they can’t stop.”
“Can’t stop!” The little line of observers on the bluff echoed the thrilling words. From the grand stand came a roar of voices filled with tense excitement. Some thought the Flying Girl was attempting a reckless performance, with the idea of shocking the crowd; but Stephen Kane knew better, and so did Mr. Cumberford. As the two men held their glasses to their eyes with shaking hands, straining to discover a sign that Orissa had altered her course and was coming back, Madeline Dentry turned to look earnestly at the brother and father of the girls, knowing she could read the facts more truly from their faces than by focusing her own glasses on that tiny speck in the sky.
The moments dragged slowly, yet laden with tragic import. The powerful lenses lost the speck, now found it again — lost it for good — yet the men most affected by this strange occurrence still glared at the sky, hoping against hope that their fears were unfounded and that the Aircraft would come back.
Some one plucked Steve’s sleeve. It was Chesty Todd, his big body shaken like an aspen.
“It — it has run away with ‘em, Steve. It’s gone wrong, man; there’s danger ahead!”
“Eh?” said Steve, dully.
“Wake up and do something!”
Steve lowered his glasses and looked helplessly at Mr. Cumberford. Cumberford returned the stare, glowering upon the inventor.
“That’s right; it’s up to you, Kane. What are you going to do?” he asked coldly.
“There’s no other hydro-aeroplane on the grounds,” said the boy brokenly.
“Then get an aeroplane,” commanded Cumberford, sharply.
“It would mean death to anyone who ventured to follow our girls in an aeroplane — not rescue for them.”
Cumberford moaned, as if in pain; then stamped his foot impatiently, as if ashamed of his weakness.
“Well — well! What then, Stephen Kane?” he demanded.
Steve wrung his hands, realizing his helplessness.
“Gentlemen,” said Madeline Dentry, laying a gentle hand on Mr. Cumberford’s arm, “let me help you. There is no reason for despair just yet; the condition of those girls is far from desperate, it seems to me. Did I understand you to say, Mr. Kane, that your sister is unable to stop the engine, or to turn the machine?”
Steve nodded.
“That’s it,” he said. “Something has broken. I can’t imagine what it is, but there’s no other way to explain the thing.”
“Very well,” rejoined Madeline, coolly, “let us, then, try to consider intelligently what will happen to them. Will they presently descend and alight upon the surface of the water?”
“I’m — I’m afraid not,” Steve answered. “If that were possible, Orissa would have done it long ago. I think something has happened to affect the control, and therefore my sister is helpless.”
“In that case, how long will they continue flying?” persisted Madeline.
“As long as the gasoline lasts — three or four hours.”
“And how fast are they traveling, Mr. Kane?”
“I think at the rate of about forty-five miles an hour.”
Miss Dentry made a mental calculation.
“Then they will descend about a hundred and fifty miles from here, in a straight line over that island,” said she. “Having a boat under them, I suppose they will float indefinitely?”
Again Steve nodded, looking at the girl curiously and wondering at her logic.
“If — if they manage to alight upon the water in good shape,” he replied more hopefully, “they’ll be safe enough — for a time. And they have food and water with them. The only danger I fear for them, at present, is that when the gasoline is exhausted the machine will be wrecked.”
“Don’t you aviators often shut off your engine and volplane to the ground?” asked Madeline.
“Yes, with the elevator and rudder in full control. But that isn’t the case with Orissa. I’m certain her elevator control has bound in some way. Were it broken, and free, the Aircraft would have wobbled, and perhaps tumbled while we were looking at it. The elevator is wedged, you see, and my sister can’t move it at all. So, when the gasoline gives out, I — I’m not sure how the machine will act.”
“Anyway,” exclaimed Madeline, with sudden determination, “we are wasting valuable time in useless talk. Follow me at once.”
“Where to?” asked Steve, in surprise.
“To my yacht. I’m going after the girls. Please come with us, Mr. Cumberford — and you, too, Mr. Todd. Aunty,” turning to Mrs. Tupper, “if you require anything from the hotel for the journey I will send you there in the car; but you must hurry, for every moment is precious.”
Mr. Cumberford straightened up, animated and alert, while his face brightened with a ray of hope.
“We will take my car to the bay,” said he, eagerly, “and Mr. and Mrs. Tupper can use your own car to visit the hotel. Will you accompany us, or ride with your aunt?”
“With you,” decided Madeline. “I must have the captain get up steam and prepare to sail. It won’t take long; I’ve ordered them to keep a little steam all the time, in case I wish to take a party out for a ride.”
Even as they were speaking all walked rapidly toward the long line of motor cars. Mrs. Tupper, who had not ventured a remark or made any protest — quite contrary to her usual custom — now astonished her niece by saying:
“Never mind the hotel; let us all go directly to the yacht. With those two poor girls in danger I couldn’t bear to think I had caused a moment’s delay. It is very comfortable on the yacht and we’ll get along all right for a day.”
“To be sure; to be sure,” agreed Mr. Tupper, nervously. “I shall be seasick; I’m bound to be seasick; I always am; but in this emergency my place is by Madeline’s side.”
Of course no protest would have affected Madeline’s determination, and the worthy couple recognized that fact perfectly; hence they diplomatically abetted her plan.
Captain Krell had attended the exhibitions at the aviation field, but while there he kept one eye on Miss Dentry. During the panic caused by the runaway aeroplane he saw Miss Dentry in earnest conversation with Cumberford and Kane and marked their hurried departure from the field. So the gallant captain scuttled back to the yacht at his best speed, to find Miss Dentry already aboard and the engineer shoveling in coal.
Both Mr. Cumberford and Steve knew that the Salvador was by odds the fastest ship in the bay, and Madeline’s prompt offer to go to the rescue of their imperilled daughter and sister awakened hope in their breasts and aroused their lively gratitude.
After all it did not take the yacht long to get under way. It was so perfectly manned and in such complete readiness that steam was the only requisite to begin a trip instantly. Madeline could scarcely wait while with aggravating deliberation they hoisted anchor, but she became more composed as the yacht slowly headed out of the bay, the crew alert and the big captain as eage
r as any of them to rescue the daring bird-maids.
By the time the Salvador reached the open sea the shore was lined with thousands of spectators, and the sight of the graceful yacht headed in chase of the two girls raised a cheer so lusty and heartfelt that it reached Madeline’s ears and caused her to flush with pleasure and renewed determination.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
A GAME OF CHECKERS
NINE O’CLOCK!” cried Orissa, giving Sybil a nudge. “Are you going to sleep all day, Crusoe, like those dreadful owls?”
“I’d like to,” muttered Miss Cumberford, regretfully opening her eyes. “My, what a blessed relief from that night of torture! Don’t you think, Ris, that those feathered fiends only stopped the concert because they’d howled until their throats were sore?”
“I fear we made a mistake in changing our camp,” returned Orissa, busy with her toilet. “The shrieks sounded much louder than they did the night before.”
“Question is,” said Sybil, rolling off the improvised bed, “how long we are to endure this imprisonment. If it’s to be a mere day or so, don’t let’s move again. However, if you think we’re here for life, I propose we murder every owl and have done with them.”
“We can’t read the future, of course,” remarked Orissa thoughtfully, as she stroked her beautiful hair with her back-comb — the only toilet article she possessed. “Steve may get to us any day, or he may have a hard time finding us. He will never give up, though, nor will your father, until our retreat is located and — and — our fate determined.”
“Poor Daddy!” sighed Sybil; “he’ll be worried to death. I’ve led him a dog’s life, I know; but he’s just as fond and faithful as if I’d been a dutiful daughter.”
“I hope they won’t tell mother,” said Orissa. “The anxiety would be so hard for her to bear. We know we’re fairly comfortable, Syb; but they can’t know that, nor have any clear idea what’s become of us.”
They fell quiet, after this, and exchanged few words until they were outside the tent and had made a fire of twigs and leaves in the rock stove. Sybil warmed the last of the baked beans, adding a little water to moisten them. With these they each ate a biscuit and finished their breakfast with a draught of cool water from the spring.
After the meal they wandered among the queer greenery they had before observed and Sybil called attention to the fact that many of the broad, tender leaves had been nibbled at the edges.
“The owls did that, of course,” said Orissa, “and if it is good food for owls I’m sure it wouldn’t hurt us.”
“Doesn’t it look something like lettuce?” asked Sybil.
“Yes; perhaps that is what it is — wild lettuce.”
She plucked a leaf and tasted it. The flavor was agreeable and not unlike that of lettuce.
“Well,” said Sybil, after tasting the green, “here’s an item to add to our bill-of-fare. If only we had dressing for it a salad would be mighty appetizing.”
“There’s the vinegar in the bottle of pickles,” proposed Orissa. “It won’t go very far, but it will help. Let us try the new dish for luncheon.”
“And how about the bananas?” asked Miss Cumberford.
“I’ll proceed to get them right now,” promised Orissa, walking back to the group of trees.
The bare, smooth trunks extended twenty feet in the air before a branch appeared. The branches were broad, stout leaves, among which hung the bunches of fruit.
“I hate to ruin a perfectly good tree,” declared Orissa, picking up the hatchet, “but self-preservation is the first law of nature.”
“Goodness me! You’re not thinking of chopping it down, I hope,” exclaimed Sybil.
“No, that would be too great a task to undertake. I’ve a better way, I think.”
She selected a tree that had three large bunches of bananas on it. One bunch was quite ripe, the next just showing color and the third yet an emerald green. Each bunch consisted of from sixty to eighty bananas.
First Orissa chopped notches on either side of the trunk, at such distances as would afford support for her feet. When these notches rose as high as she could reach, she brought two broad straps from the Aircraft, buckled them together around the tree-trunk, and then passed the slack around her body and beneath her arms. Thus supported she began the ascent, placing her feet in the notches she had already cut and chopping more notches as she advanced.
In this manner the girl reached the lower branches and after climbing into them removed the strap and crept along until she reached the first bunch of bananas.
“Stand from under!” she cried to Sybil and began chopping at the stem. Presently the huge bunch fell with a thud and Sybil gleefully applauded by clapping her hands.
“The lower ones are a bit mushy, I fear,” she called to her chum, “but that can’t be helped.”
“We will eat those first,” said Orissa, creeping to the second bunch.
She managed to cut it loose, and the third, after which she replaced the strap around her body and cautiously descended to the ground. The two girls then rolled over the ripest bunch and found the damage confined to a couple of dozen bananas, the skins of which had burst from the force of the heavy fall. A moment later they were feasting on the fruit, which they found delicious.
“I’ve read somewhere,” said Sybil, “that bananas alone will sustain life for an indefinite period. They are filling and satisfying, and they’re wholesome. We needn’t worry any longer for fear of starvation, Ris.”
“I imagine we’d get deadly tired of the things, in time,” replied Orissa; “but, as you say, they’ll sustain life, and just at present they taste mighty good.”
They drew the ripest bunch into the tent, but left the others lying in the bright sunshine.
“Now,” announced Orissa, “we must make an expedition to that crevasse and rescue the bar and the lever, which we left sticking in the rocks. The tide is low, so we may go around by way of the shore.”
A leisurely walk of fifteen minutes brought them to the crevasse, down which tumbled the tiny brook. Orissa, as the most venturesome, climbed to the bar, from whence she managed to pull the lever out of the owl’s nest into which she had formerly thrust it. If the owl was hidden there now it failed to disclose its presence and on descending to the rocks Orissa easily released the bar. So now, armed once more with their primitive weapons, the girls returned to their camp.
“I can attach these to our machine at any time,” said the air-maid, “so I think it may be best to keep them beside us, to use in case of emergency. I haven’t felt entirely safe since we lost them.”
“Nor I,” returned Sybil. “We haven’t encountered anything dangerous, so far, but I like to feel I’ve something to pound with, should occasion arise.”
That afternoon Orissa worked on the Aircraft, repairing the damage caused by the sliding chest. She also took apart the steering gear, filed the bearings carefully, and afterward replaced the parts, fitting them nicely together and greasing them thoroughly. As a result of this labor the gear now worked easily and its parts were not likely again to bind.
“Steve made it altogether too light for its purpose,” said the girl. “On the next machine I must see that he remedies that fault.”
Sybil had been lying half asleep on the sands, shaded by the spreading plane of the Aircraft. She now aroused herself and looked at her companion with a whimsical expression while the other girl carefully gathered up the tools and put them away.
“All ready to run, Ris?” she asked.
“All ready.”
“I suppose with the gasoline tanks filled we could go home?”
“Yes; I think so. With the wind in our favor, as it was when we came, we ought to cover the same distance easi-
“Very good. I hope you are now satisfied, having worked like a nailer for half a day, getting a machine in order that can’t be utilized. Gasoline doesn’t grow on this island, I imagine — unless it could be made from bananas.”
“No;
it doesn’t grow here.”
“And none of the department stores keep it.”
“True.”
“But we’ve got a flying-machine, in apple-pie order, except that we’re using one of the plane coverings for a tent and a lever for a weapon of defense.”
“Absolutely correct, Crusoe.”
“Hooray. Let’s go to sleep again, dear. Those screechers will keep us awake all night, you know.”
She closed her eyes drowsily and Orissa sat beside her and looked thoughtfully over the expanse of blue ocean. There was nothing in sight; nothing save the big island at the west, which seemed from this distance to be much more desirable than the bleak rocks on which the adventurers had stranded.
Orissa got her binoculars and made a careful inspection of the place. Through the powerful glasses she could discover forests, green meadowland and the gleam of a small river. It was a flat island, yet somewhat elevated above the surface of the sea. She judged it to be at least four times bigger than the island they were now on. The distance rendered it impossible to discover whether the place was inhabited or not. No houses showed themselves, but of course she could see only one side of the island from where she sat.
Orissa did not feel sleepy, in spite of her wakeful night, so she took Sybil’s fishline and baited the hook with a scrap of beef. Going to the top of the bluff she began to fish, and as she fished she reviewed in mind all the conditions of their misfortune and strove to find a way of relief. Being unsuccessful in both occupations she finally came back to the little bay and waded out to the big rock that guarded the mouth of the inlet. On the ocean side there was good depth of water and in the course of the next half hour she landed a huge crawfish, two crabs and a two-pound flat fish resembling a sole. This last is known as “chicken-halibut” and is delicious eating.
She aroused Sybil, and the two girls built a fire, using dry twigs from the brushwood, a supply of which they had gathered and placed near their tent. In the fat taken from the crawfish they fried the halibut for supper. Then among the coals and hot stones they buried the crabs, keeping a little fire above them until they were sure the creatures were thoroughly roasted. Next day they cracked the shells and picked out the meat, deciding they might live luxuriously even on an island of rocks, provided they exercised their wits and took advantage of all conditions Nature afforded them.
Complete Works of L. Frank Baum Page 555