At dark thousands of great owls came from their retreats among the rocks and flew ceaselessly about the island, uttering their distracting cries. Nor was there a moment’s peace again until daybreak. The birds were evidently in search of food, and found it; but what it consisted of the girls could not imagine. Singularly enough, the castaways were growing accustomed to the deafening clamor and as they felt quite safe within their enclosed tent they were able to sleep — in a fitful, restless way — a good part of the night.
The following day they began to find the hours dragging tediously, for the first time since their captivity. Arm in arm the two girls wandered around the elevated end of their island, exploring it thoroughly but making no new discoveries of importance. The barren, slimy hollow that lay inland had no temptations to lure them near it and so there remained little else to do but watch the ocean and prepare their meals.
“This is our fourth day of isolation,” announced Sybil, in a tone more irritable than she was wont to use. “I wonder how long this thing will last.”
“We must be patient,” said Orissa, gently. “Our dear ones are making every effort to find us, I’m sure, and of course they will succeed in time. We are at some distance from the usual route of ships; that is evident; and for this reason it will be more difficult for our friends to locate us. I suppose that a few days more may easily pass by before we catch sight of a boat coming to get us. But they’ll come, Syb,” she repeated, confidently, “and meantime we — we must be — patient.”
Sybil stared across the water.
“Do you play checkers?” she asked abruptly.
“Steve and I used to play, long ago. I suppose I could remember the game, and it might amuse us; but we have no checkerboard, nor men for it.”
“Pah! and you the sister of an inventor!” cried Sybil scornfully. “I’m astonished at you, Miss Kane. Haven’t you enough reflected ingenuity to manufacture a checkerboard?”
“Why, I think so,” said Orissa. “The idea hadn’t occurred to me. I’ll see what I can do.”
“You make the board, and I’ll find the men,” proposed Sybil, and springing to her feet she ran down to the beach, glad to have anything to occupy her and relieve the dreary dragging of the hours.
Orissa looked around her, pondering the problem. Material for a checkerboard seemed hopelessly lacking, yet after a little thought she solved the problem fairly well. First she ripped the flounce from her black silk petticoat and with the jackknife from the tool kit she cut out thirty-two black squares, each two inches in diameter. Then she took a tube of prepared glue that was in the outfit and walked up the incline to their tent, in the center of which stood the aluminum chest. This chest, being of a dull silvery color, and quite smooth on all its sides, was to be the groundwork of the checker-board squares, as well as the board itself and the elevated table to play on. Orissa glued the squares of black silk to the cover of the chest, leaving a similar square space on the aluminum surface between each one. When this was accomplished she pasted a narrow edge of black around the entire sixty-four squares, thus marking their boundary.
She was very proud of this work and was regarding it admiringly when Sybil entered.
“How clever!” cried her chum, genuinely enthusiastic. “Really, Miss Columbus, you have done better than I. But here are the checker-men, and they’ll do very nicely.”
As she spoke she dumped from her handkerchief upon the board twenty-four shells which she had carefully selected from those that littered the beach. Twelve were dark in color and twelve pearly white and being of uniform size they made very practical checkers.
“Now, then,” said she, squatting beside the chest and arranging her shells in order, “I’ll play you a series of games for a box of bonbons, to be purchased when we return to civilization.”
“How many games?” asked Orissa, seating herself opposite.
“Let us say — the best three in five. If that’s too rapid we will make the next bet the best six in ten, or twelve in twenty. Agreeable, Columbus?”
“Entirely so, Crusoe.”
It was really a capital diversion. Sybil played very well and it required all Orissa’s cleverness to oppose her. At times they tired of the play and went for a stroll on the bluff; and always, no matter how intent they were upon the game, they kept watchful eyes on the ocean.
And in this manner the days dragged on their weary lengths and the nights resounded to the shrill cries of the owls. One morning Sybil asked:
“Isn’t to-day Tuesday, Orissa?”
“Yes,” was the quiet reply. “We’ve inhabited this wilderness just a week.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
THE QUEST OF THE “SALVADOR”
ON THE ROOMY forward deck of the Salvador an earnest conference was held.
“How fast are we going?” asked Steve.
“The captain says about fifteen miles an hour. That’s our best clip, it seems,” replied Madeline.
“And very good speed,” added Captain Krell, proudly.
“So it is, for an English yacht,” agreed Mr. Cumberford.
“In that case,” said Steve, “we are moving one-third as fast as the Aircraft did, and we were about two hours later in starting. Provided the girls exhaust their gasoline in flying, they will make a hundred and fifty to two hundred miles, requiring five or six hours’ time. Then they will alight, bobbing upon the water and helpless to move in any direction except where the current carries them. It will take us eighteen hours to reach that same spot, and we will therefore be twelve hours behind them. Do you all follow me?”
They nodded, listening intently.
“Now, the girls left at about one thirty this afternoon. If my calculations are correct, they’ll take to the water anywhere from six thirty to seven thirty this evening. We shall overtake them at about the same hour to-morrow morning. Unless they drift considerably out of their course we shall see the white planes at daybreak and have no trouble in running alongside. But there’s always the chance that through some cause they may manage to drop to water sooner, and perhaps run the boat toward home. Orissa is a very clever girl, as you all know; calm and resourceful; quick-witted and brave. She will do all that anyone could do to bring the Aircraft under control. So the one danger, it appears to me, is that we may pass them during the night.”
“That danger, sir,” said Captain Krell, “may be reduced to a minimum. We carry a very powerful searchlight, which shall be worked by my men all night, illuminating not only the course ahead, but the sea for miles on every side. As you say, Mr. Kane, the white planes may be easily seen against the blue water, and we positively cannot miss them during the night.”
“You — er — interest me,” said Mr. Cumberford, looking more cheerful. “We seem to have everything in our favor, thanks to Miss Dentry’s generosity.”
“I’m so glad I bought this yacht!” exclaimed Madeline, fervently, “for it enabled me to go to the assistance of those poor girls. I’m sure it was all providential.”
“Let us hope,” said Mr. Tupper pompously, “the young women will survive until we reach them. However, we shall learn their fate, in any event, which will afford us a certain degree of satisfaction.”
That speech was like a douche of cold water, but although the gentleman received various indignant and reproachful looks he had “sized up the situation” with fair accuracy.
Mr. Cumberford, however, since those first despairing moments on the aviation field, had recovered command of his feelings and seemed hopeful, if not confident, of his daughter’s ultimate escape from serious mishap. He was exceedingly fond of Orissa, too, and even had not Sybil been with her it is certain that he would have been much worried and eager to go to her assistance.
Stephen Kane, on the contrary, grew more nervous as time passed. Better than the others he knew the dangers that threatened the girls if, as he suspected, the steering gear had broken and the elevator and engine control been rendered useless. He racked his brain to think what could
have caused the trouble, but never a hint of the truth dawned upon him.
The third member of the Kane-Cumberford party, Mr. H. Chesterton Radley-Todd, had maintained a discreet silence ever since Miss Dentry had invited him to join the rescue party. This she had been led to do by the look of abject misery on the boy’s face, and he had merely pressed her hand to indicate his thanks. Chesty Todd was never much of a conversationalist and his appreciation of his own awkwardness rendered him diffident unless occasion demanded prompt and aggressive action, when he usually came to the front in an efficient if unexpected manner.
Madeline Dentry, seeing Chesty Todd merely as he appeared, wondered in a casual way why such a blundering, incompetent booby had been employed by the Kane-Cumberford firm, but as the big boy was a part of the “camp” and was so evidently disturbed by the accident, she was glad to relieve him to the extent of adding him to the party.
Very soon after the Salvador started, however, nearly every one on board began to feel the presence of the youthful press agent. It was Chesty Todd who discovered the searchlight aboard and long before the conference on the deck he had primed the captain to use it during the coming night. It was Chesty Todd who sat on a coal-bunker in the hold, swinging his long legs and inspiring the engineer, by dark insinuations concerning the Salvador’s ability to speed, to give her engines every pound of steam she could carry. It was Chesty who pumped the steward to learn how well the boat was provisioned and supplied the deck hands with choice cigars until they were ready to swear he was a trump and imagined him quite the most important personage aboard, after Miss Dentry.
The chef served an excellent dinner in the cabin, to which no one did full justice except Mr. Tupper. All were loth to leave the deck long enough to eat, although they knew a watch was stationed in the “crow’s nest” with powerful glasses. When night fell the search-light came into play and the entire party sat huddled forward, eagerly following the sweep of light across the waters. It was ten o’clock when Mr. and Mrs. Tupper retired, and midnight when Madeline went to her room, leaving orders to call her if the Aircraft was sighted.
Stephen Kane, Mr. Cumberford and Chesty Todd sat by the rail all night, wide-eyed and alert. Once the searchlight caught the sails of a ship and they all leaped up, thinking it was the Aircraft. Again, something dark — a tangled mass of wreckage — swept by them and set their hearts throbbing until they held the light steadily upon it and discovered it to be a jumble of kelp and driftwood. Daylight came and found them wan but still wakeful, for now they were getting close to the limit of flight possible to the Aircraft.
Captain Krell was a skillful navigator and, having taken his course in a direct line from Sealskin Island, following the flight of Orissa’s Hydro-Aircraft, had not swerved a hair’s breadth from it the entire voyage.
“You see,” said Steve, peering ahead in the strengthening daylight, “the Salvador hasn’t dodged a bit, and the Aircraft couldn’t. So we’re bound to strike our quarry soon.”
“Wind,” suggested Chesty.
“Yes; the wind might carry them a little out of their course, to be sure,” admitted Steve; “but I think — I hope —
not far enough to escape our range of vision.”
At about seven o’clock, at Chesty Todd’s suggestion, the engines were slowed down somewhat, that the lookout aloft might have better opportunity to examine the sea on all sides of the ship. The yacht still maintained fair speed, however, and the call to breakfast finding no one willing to respond, Madeline ordered coffee and rolls served on deck, where they could all watch while refreshing themselves.
“What’s your run, Captain?” asked Steve, nervously.
“Hundred and forty miles, sir.”
“Indeed! Go a little slower, please.”
The captain rang the bell to slow down. Presently the Salvador was creeping along at the rate of ten miles an hour.
“The gasoline,” said Steve, “may have carried them farther than I figured on. It’s a new machine and I haven’t had a chance to test the exact capacity of the tanks.”
The moments dragged tediously. Every person aboard was laboring under tense excitement.
“What’s the run, Captain?”
“One fifty-two, sir.”
“Ah.”
Nothing was in sight; only an uninterrupted stretch of blue sea. Hour after hour passed. At noon the run was two hundred and twenty miles and the aeroplane had not been sighted. Steve turned and faced those assembled.
“It’s no use going farther in this direction,” he said, the words trembling on his lips. “I’m very sure they couldn’t have made this distance.”
“Evidently their course has been altered by the wind,” added Mr. Cumberford.
“Gusty, at times, last night,” asserted Chesty.
Steve nodded.
“A strong wind might do what the girls couldn’t,” said he. “That is, it might alter the direction of their flight. How did it blow?”
“At four o’clock, from the north; at five fifteen, from the west; at six, due south,” said Chesty.
There was silence for a few minutes. The engines had been shut down and the boat lay drifting upon the water.
“I think it will be well to examine the charts,” suggested Mr. Todd, “and find out where we are.”
“I know where we are,” said Captain Krell. “Wait a moment; I’ll get the chart, so you may all study it.”
He brought it from his cabin and spread it upon a folding table on the deck. A penciled line ran directly from the port of San Diego to a point south by southwest.
“A few more hours on the same course and we’d sight the little island of Guadaloup, off the Mexican coast,” explained Captain Krell. “But the aeroplane couldn’t go so far; therefore we must search on either side the course we’ve come.”
They all bent their heads over the map.
“What are those unmarked dots which are scattered around?” inquired Mr. Cumberford.
“Islands, sir. Mostly bits of rock jutting out of the sea. They’re not important enough to name, nor do they appear on an ordinary map; but a seaman’s chart indicates them, for unless we had knowledge of their whereabouts we might bump into them.”
“They’re mostly to the south of us, I see,” remarked Mr. Tupper.
“Yes, sir.”
“And it’s south we must go, I think,” said Steve, looking at Chesty Todd for the youth to confirm his judgment. “There was no wind to take them to the west of this course, I — believe.”
“That’s my idea,” declared the press agent. “I would suggest our doubling back and forth, on this return trip, covering forty or fifty miles at each leg. Seems like we couldn’t miss ‘em, that way.”
After much consultation this plan was finally agreed upon. The captain outlined his course and followed it, so that during the next four days not a square yard of ocean escaped their search. But it was all in vain and at the end of the fourth day, with the California coast again in sight, there was scarcely a person aboard who entertained the slightest hope of finding the missing girls.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CAPRICIOUS FATE
A WIRELESS WAS SENT to the shore, reporting the failure of the Salvador to locate the runaway aeroplane and asking if any tidings had been received of Orissa Kane and Sybil Cumberford.
There was no news.
Madeline called her passengers together again for a further consultation.
“What shall we do?” she asked.
Neither Steve nor Mr. Cumberford could well reply. Miss Dentry had generously placed her splendid yacht at their disposal and in person had conducted the search, neglecting no detail that might contribute to their success. But failure had resulted and they could not ask her to continue what appeared to be a hopeless undertaking. Steve, who had had ample time to consider this finale, tried to answer her question.
“We are very grateful to you, Miss Dentry,” he said, “and both Mr. Cumberford and I fully appreciate the s
acrifice you have made in so promptly trying to rescue our girls. That we face failure is no fault of yours, nor of your crew, and I realize that you have already done all that humanity or friendship might require. Of course you understand that we cannot give up until my sister’s fate, and that of Miss Cumberford, is positively determined. Therefore, as soon as we reach shore we shall organize another expedition to continue the quest.”
“You are doing me an injustice, sir,” returned the girl gravely. “Whatever my former plans may have been I am now determined not to abandon this voyage until we have found your sister and her companion. I was greatly attracted by Orissa Kane, and grieve over her sad fate sincerely. Moreover, I do not like to put my hand to the plow without completing the furrow. Unless you believe you can charter a better boat for your purpose than the Salvador, or can find a crew more devoted to your interests, I shall order Captain Krell to turn about and renew the search.”
That, of course, settled the matter. The Salvador put about and returned to a point where the see-sawing must be renewed and extended to cover more expanse of ocean.
Chesty Todd, coming to where Madeline stood beside the rail, looked into her piquant face with frank admiration.
“Excuse me, Miss Dentry,” said he, “but you’re what I’d call a brick. I knew, of course, you’d stick it out, but there’s no harm in congratulating a girl on being true blue. I’m awfully glad you — you had the grit to tackle it again. I’ll never be myself again until those girls are found.”
She looked up at him reflectively.
“Which of the young ladies are you engaged to?” she asked.
“Me?” blushing like a schoolboy; “neither one, if you please. They — they’re only kids, you know.”
Complete Works of L. Frank Baum Page 556