Читать книгу: «Wings Over the Rockies; Or, Jack Ralston's New Cloud Chaser», страница 5

XII
IN THE COLORADO CANYON COUNTRY

Ever since hopping off at Cheyenne their course had been more or less directly southwest, for Jack, on consulting his chart, had figured that this would take them close to their intended goal.

Only in a general way was he able to decide as to where they must be on this morning after their long flight through that enormous fog belt. Strange as it might seem, thus far they had glimpsed nothing positive that would give them their exact location, but just the same Jack was so certain about his figuring, knowing what distance they had covered since the start, that he did not concern himself greatly over this question.

In good time something would come along to clear things up nicely, and once they got their bearings if would be possible to pick up the game with heart and soul enlisted in its carrying out.

“Now would you b’lieve it partner,” Perk was saying at one time much later in the morning, with the same wilderness covering the face of the earth far below as wide as eye could reach, “if there ain’t one o’ them pirates o’ the air spreadin’ himself to try an’ cut across our path, like he wanted to take a close-up o’ sech a queer contraption that keeps on makin’ all them roarin’ noises. I call him a feathered hijacker, ’cause he lies in wait tryin’ to hold up industrious fish-hawks when they been an’ grabbed a dinner outen the river, an’ robbin’ ’em o’ it.”

“Oh! I reckon now you’re meaning an eagle, eh Perk?”

“Old Baldhead, the great American fraud that Uncle Sam keeps stampin’ on his coins. A loafer an’ a shark, too lazy to do his own huntin’ an’ stealin’ his grub from the hard workin’ osprey. See him cuttin’ it for all he’s worth, tryin’ to butt in on us! Hey, mebbe the ornery fool’s got a big notion we’re tryin’ to put the laugh on him, an’ means to give us the defy – a fool notion, I’d call it. Let him try hittin’ up against the side o’ our fuselage an’ see what happens to him, that’s all.”

Jack evinced sudden interest, as was proven by his saying sharply:

“But see here that may not be all, as you think! What if the fool bird plunges madly at our ship? Instead of butting his head against the fuselage he might strike our propeller, which would knock him galley-west, but also disable our craft. Perk, better get out that sub-machine gun of yours and be ready to settle his hash if it seems likely he can head us off.”

“Hot ziggetty dog! I never though o’ that, partner!” cried the now thoroughly alarmed Perk hastening to scramble out of his seat, dive back and drag out the firearm with which he had done such gallant service not so long ago.

“Watch the rascal,” Jack was telling him in steadying tones, “and if it looks as though he’ll reach us, start gunning for him, otherwise hold your fire out of respect for the motto on our gold coins. Sit pretty, partner – I’m depending on you to do a good job.”

Jack changed his course a trifle, as if intending to give the charging bird a chance to live to another day. In this way the chase was made more stern and the possibility of a fatal contact between bird and the man-made king of the upper air rendered less likely.

Perk, crouching there with ready gun, held himself prepared to pour out a hot fusilade if it became absolutely necessary. He had to judge the velocity of the eagle’s advance and also note how Jack was so skillfully edging away to the left in order to avoid slaughtering the brave but misguided bird.

After all it was a false alarm, for the eagle shot past at least twenty feet back of their rudder, going “for all he was worth” as Perk afterwards explained it and by the time he could swerve, the plane was so far away that the baffled bird felt compelled to give up the pursuit, though doing so grudgingly, Perk decided.

He hardly knew whether to be inclined to jeer at the foolish actions of the king of the air, or give him a cheer on account of so brashly charging the great bulk that he must have considered a rival in his special field. At least there was no need of making use of the gun which he hastened to put back in its former nook where it could easily be snatched up in case of any sudden emergency.

“Mebbe it’s jest as well I didn’t have to riddle the old jay,” Perk told himself as he resumed his seat and his glasses. “May be a buccaneer, like some folks say, but he’s got good grit and won’t take a dare from even a Zeppelin, should one come sailin’ along in his happy huntin’ grounds.”

The morning was wearing away with the amphibian keeping up its merry pace and the country showing no signs of betterment. Civilization was a million miles distant, one would imagine, when looking down on those amazing masses of rocky peaks over which they were winging their way. Judging from what they saw hour after hour, Jack could well believe that changes there had been only to a small degree since Columbus first sighted these shores hundreds of years back. Indeed, for thousands upon thousands of years those giant fingers of rock had been pointing to the blue sky above, just as they saw them now.

They ate some food about noon, washing it down with a few gulps of water they carried in a jug. Strange that even Perk had not remarked upon being hungry, which was such a remarkable thing for him that Jack concluded his mind for once had been taken off the subject of eating and was fully occupied with the strange mission upon which they were engaged.

Several times Jack asked the observer whether he could make out any signs of a river bed ahead and seemed surprised and a bit disappointed when Perk replied in the negative.

“Unless I’m away off my base,” Jack finally told his companion, “we ought to be somewhere in the vicinity of the Colorado and the enormous canyon through which it makes its way down to the Gulf of California.”

Perk displayed a sudden fresh interest in matters.

“I swan, partner,” he remarked in considerable agitation, “does that ’ere mean we might set eyes on that monster hole in the ground I’ve read so much about? Are we close to the Colorado River where she runs ’long through the Rainbow gorge and the towerin’ cliffs rear their red, blue, green and yeller walls hundreds o’ feet high on both sides?”

“You said it Perk. Chances are we’ll set eyes on that big hole in the ground they call the Colorado Canyon before we strike another night.”

“Je-ru-salem crickets buddy! That sounds good to me!” exulted Perk, visibly stirred by the thrilling information. “Allers did sorter hanker ’bout lampin’ that pictur’, an’ it’ll please me plenty if dreams do come true.”

This kept him quiet for some time, though he worked his glasses with a fresher zeal as though bent on missing nothing that seemed worth looking at. But thus far not the slightest object had been sighted that might turn out to be of special interest to any one looking for a smashed plane.

The sun was now well down the western heavens and Perk was beginning to fear the prophecy of his companion would fail to come true, when something caught his vigilant eye far in the distance and on which he focussed his binoculars. He looked long and steadily before announcing his discovery to Jack.

“I kinder guess partner, we’re there all right,” he finally burst out.

“And what makes you feel that way, Perk?”

“From the signs ahead I figger we’re gettin’ close to a big sink and I c’n see the sun glintin’ from somethin’ shiny yonder – might be that hotel they got on the top o’ the west wall, if I remember straight. Yes-siree, it’s jest like I’m tellin’ you matey, the old river must lie down in that deep canyon. Gee whiz! it makes me near goofy jest to think how I’m goin’ to see the biggest canyon in the whole world, with painted walls an’ all sorts o’ queer relics o’ ancient Injuns scattered around. Hot ziggetty dog! ain’t I glad they sent us out this way though! If on’y we c’n find that boy, I’ll be the happiest chap on earth, an’ that’s no lie either.”

That was Perk’s usual way of arriving at a decision without making certain. Jack on the other hand, was accustomed to holding himself in check until he had actually proven it a certainty and even then he rarely gave way to any outburst of joy, leaving that to his more excitable comrade.

In due time they found themselves looking down on one of the most wonderful sights that can be found anywhere in the wide world. A spectacle unmatched in any other land which people come thousands of miles to feast their enraptured eyes upon.

XIII
A STRANDED PLANE

Jack continued to stay at the controls, possibly because he wished Perk to do the observing as his keen eyesight was such a valuable asset.

It proved that the object Perk had seen, and on which the sun was shining in such a dazzling way, was the hotel that catered to the many visitors and tourists who at certain seasons of the year flocked thither, enjoying the thrill of gazing on those natural wonders so profuse in that locality.

Perk could readily make out a number of moving figures on the edge of the canyon, evidently intent on watching the coming of the airship and doubtless speculating as to its mission.

Undoubtedly other boats had been seen flying overhead, since that particular section of country was being combed by a host of swift craft gathered from various quarters, all engaged in the humane task of striving to find the missing air mail pilot.

But Jack gave no evidence of a desire to drop down in the vicinity of the great hotel with its throng of guests – they could give him no information and the time could be more profitably used in commencing a systematic search. It would be time to descend when their stock of supplies in the line of food fell short or the gas tank gave promise of becoming empty. Nothing less must distract them from the task they had been commissioned to carry out with all their ability.

“I c’n see people comin’ up out o’ the canyon now,” Perk asserted with emphasis, “an’ seems like they must be mounted on mules or donkeys, ’cause no hosses c’n climb up an’ down sech steep slopes. Say, ain’t that worth comin’ out here to see? I’ll tell the world it sure is! Mebbe, ’fore we starts back to old Cheyenne, we’ll get a chance to go down into the bowels o’ the earth like them folks have been doin’, an’ seein’ the hull panorama from the bottom.”

“Who knows, Perk?” quoth the unmoved Jack, “but in the meantime we’ve got to stick on our job and do our level best to find Buddy – because of his mourning mother if for no other reason – and that goes!”

“I like to hear you say that, partner,” cried sympathetic Perk, “an’ me to back it up to the limit. My eyes! what a peach o’ a pictur’ that sure is! Somethin’ never to be rubbed out while you live. Beats anything I ever set eyes on by big odds. Niagara was fine enough, but say, it ain’t in the same class as this paintin’ o’ Old Dame Nature’s.”

“I’d call it sublime, and let it go at that,” Jack admitted, “for words never were coined that could do justice to such a tremendous thing in the way of natural scenery.”

The hotel was now in their rear and rapidly growing fainter in the distance, while below lay the wide reaches of the enormous canyon, dug through uncounted ages by the swift current of the famous river that miles further on would disappear from sight between walls that reared their heads hundreds of feet aloft.

As if to give them both a comprehensive view of the entire opening, Jack had reduced their speed to a minimum and was following the canyon gap with Perk keeping his eyes glued to his glasses, unable to tear them away for a single second lest he lose something of absorbing interest, possibly the most entrancing object in all that long category.

So it was that Jack felt a shock when he suddenly heard Perk giving tongue as though gripped with some fresh cause for excitement.

“Hey! what’s this I’m seein’ partner?” he yelled.

“Whereabouts?” demanded the other in a flash, for there was something he could detect in Perk’s squeal that would indicate a discovery of more than usual importance.

“Right down in the ditch – look ahead, an’ you’ll see it! Boy, if that ain’t a airship lyin’ on the sandy shore o’ the river, I’ll eat my hat! An’ yes, by gum! there’s a man standin’ alongside wavin’ somethin’ white like a flag o’ distress! Oh my stars, c’n it be possible we’ve run on to poor Buddy Warner so clost to help an’ him stuck there like a pig in a poke all this while? Jack, whatever c’n it mean, do you reckon?”

Jack was rather startled by what his comrade was saying, but as always proved himself quick to act.

“Take over the stick Perk, and give me the glasses. I must see for myself what it means. A plane down in that big hole, close to the edge of the rushing river and only a mile or so from help – it seems incredible – why, as I understand from what I’ve heard and read, parties with their guides often spend a night in the canyon looking through those queer Indian stone houses and even wander along the river for some distance. Why, he never could be that close by all this time and his condition continue unknown.”

He was riveting his gaze upon the spot Perk had pointed to, and just as the other had declared, some one was making frantic gestures, waving a piece of white cloth and plainly asking them to drop down and rescue him or at least convey a knowledge of his desperate situation to those at the hotel.

The more Jack stared the greater did the mystery become in his mind. It simply could not be – there must be some other explanation to account for so unreasonable a condition. What should they do about it? The man kept waving his distress signal, and possibly was at the same time shouting something, to judge from his actions although of course his voice failed utterly to reach their ears.

“What’s goin’ to be done about it, eh partner?” Perk was saying as he swung in a great curve and again started to pass over the object of Jack’s scrutiny and bewilderment. “Do we leave him there, after comin’ so far to help the poor lad? Ain’t there a way for us to slant down an’ drop on that sandy shore his boat’s restin’ on? Bet every red cent I got it c’n be done, brother an’ you’re the boy to tackle the ticklish job.”

“Make still another circuit, Perk,” said Jack earnestly from which his companion judged he must be even then considering in his mind whether the proposed scheme were feasible or not.

“He keeps right along signalin’ to us not to desert him, Jack. Mebbe now ours ain’t the first ship to come sailin’ along an’ the others gave up any idea o’ landin’ in the ditch, so he’s getting a bit desperate – an’ hungry as all get out in the bargain. Must a’been three days since he was reported missin’ you remember, partner.”

Jack apparently was not wholly convinced. It might not be so difficult a task to drop down successfully, but being able to come up again would be a horse of another color, he figured. Then all at once he made his decision.

“We’ll go, Perk – the stick if you please and stand by to lend a hand if it’s needed when we make contact. I can see what looks like an inviting place in the water where we can use those dandy pontoons to advantage. Ready for it?”

They swung around once more and this time Jack turned the nose of his craft directly at a slant so as to head for the spot where the pilot of the wrecked ship was running up and down in great excitement, still flinging his signal of distress back and forth.

But when he saw that they were actually starting to drop below the majestic walls of the wonderful canyon as though bent on endeavoring to assist him, he stopped short and stood there wringing his hands in what to Jack was a rather peculiar way for a brave man to do. Still, if he had been through a series of hard knocks, had perhaps even been seriously wounded in the crash of his boat, he might be close to distraction. Anyway theirs must be the job of ascertaining the truth and afterwards doing all they could to afford him relief, though his plane might be beyond remedy and would have to be abandoned.

Now they were approaching the bottom of that rocky canyon – the walls towered above like grim cliffs or battlements, forged by nature to protect the stream that swept through the enormous gorge. It seemed to Perk, as he shot one thrilling look upward, as though they were a mile high and that everything around them was mightily magnified – all save the river itself, together with the stranded ship and the figure standing there watching their coming so eagerly, so filled with freshly risen hope.

Then contact was made between their wonderful pontoons and the surface of the Colorado River and there they floated on the turbulent bosom of the stream.

XIV
JACK MAKES A DISCOVERY

While thus dropping down into the great wide canyon by easy stages, Jack had taken note of several things, although not for a single second failing to keep tabs on his dials and the action of the ship when meeting certain baffling currents of air welling up from the depths and which might have played havoc with things only for this watchful, never-ceasing care on his part.

First he became aware of the fact that the abyss was no longer subject to clear visibility – in fact, it would have been next to impossible for him to have made a decent contact with the river surface only that a sudden glow had started up as if by magic.

It was a fire that helped to dissipate the gathering gloom in that particular spot and the one responsible for this welcome illumination must be the unknown aviator whose crate had been wrecked when falling into the vast sink with the gorgeously painted walls.

Evidently he must have gathered a few piles of dry driftwood so plentifully scattered along the banks of the river, and prepared a pyre to which a lighted match could be applied, a cheery blaze following. Jack sensed all this even without distracting his attention from his work.

At least this seemed to be proof that the unfortunate pilot had kept his wits about him, no matter what dire happenings might have come his way.

The sun could not have set – of that Jack felt certain – so the sudden lack of daylight in the vicinity of that deeply imbedded river must have been caused by the passing of some heavy cloud over the face of the sun. Jack even remembered noticing a bank of clouds hanging close to the southwestern horizon for the last half hour and a favoring breeze coming up must have pushed them across, so as to form a lofty but effectual screen.

No matter – nothing counted as long as the ship rested happily on the water with Perk hastening to drop overboard a small but efficient anchor, such as would be apt to take up scant room aboard an amphibian, but prove invaluable on occasions like the present.

This was only a part of Perk’s duties, however – when thus anchored the ship swung to and fro on its reliable pontoons but they were fully twenty feet distant from the sandy stretch beyond the river’s edge.

The current was anything but friendly and there was a strong possibility that the depth between the beach and the anchored boat would prove to be several feet, with perhaps pockets twice that, to judge from the way the water swirled in eddies.

But all that had been considered when equipping the amphibian for service on land or water. Of what avail would it be to have the pontoons so handy if, after coming down on some body of water, they must wade or swim in order to make a landing?

Perk was engaged in taking vast breaths into his capacious lungs and then blowing into some sort of queer rubber contraption which, expanding rapidly, presently assumed the proportions of a squatty little boat – nothing to boast of so far as appearances went, but capable, when fully blown up, of ferrying himself and his companion over the few yards of open water lying between themselves and their coveted landing place.

Without just such an auxiliary, the usefulness of a land and water aircraft must be considerably cut down, as pilots have long since ascertained from actual experience. Just as had been the case of the folding anchor that, with the rubber boat took very little room until needed, it paid big dividends in comparison with the small amount of trouble it gave.

The castaway air pilot was standing near by watching everything they did with the utmost eagerness. Thus far he had not seen fit to call out, but his manner proved the intense interest he felt.

Jack waved his hand encouragingly to the other, even while Perk was launching the clumsy rubber boat which proved to be so buoyant that it kept bobbing up and down with each movement of the speeding, gurgling current.

The fire was now burning brightly so that the whole immediate vicinity seemed lighted up. Jack involuntarily cast an inquisitive eye in the direction where the stranded ship lay with one wing dipping in the river. So familiar had long acquaintance with the various models of flying boats made Jack, that as a rule it required only a single glance to tell him the make of any ship he was seeing for the first time.

“A single-seat open-cockpit Stinson-Detroiter, if I know my onions,” he was telling himself, “and I’ll be hanged if I ever did know of the mail being carried in these days aboard one of those older types of craft. Looks like it had been used more or less in the bargain. I understood, somehow or other, that Buddy Warner was using a cabin ship – but he might have changed over to this for some reason.”

Still this fact was perhaps the entering wedge that started a dim suspicion in Jack’s mind so that after entering the small boat and having Perk wield the dumpy paddle, he eyed the waiting figure of the wrecked pilot as if making some sort of decision.

Just then Perk gave one of his queer grunts and in a husky whisper that barely reached the ears of his chum went on to say:

“Jack, would you b’lieve me, that there ain’t our Buddy a’tall – never did set eyes on this here youngster, for a fact. Hot ziggetty dog! now ain’t that the rottenest luck ever?”

Jack made no reply, but Perk’s discovery only justified the suspicion that had been forming in his own mind. Then they had had their drop into the canyon all for naught – at least so far as the discovery of the missing air-mail pilot was concerned.

True, the other was in something of a predicament, but he did not seem to be seriously injured and when another day dawned his need of assistance would surely be discovered by those connected with the big hotel, so that after all his troubles were only for a brief while.

Still, they had made the swoop and being on hand it would hardly seem decent and courteous for them to hold back, when possibly they could be of more or less help.

This being the case, Jack held his own counsel and made no answer to Perk’s show of disappointment that almost bordered on resentment He stepped out of the boat on to the sand when the bobbing craft grounded and waited for Perk to toss the rope to him so their clumsy craft might not yield to the wooing of that treacherous current and pass down-stream, leaving the pair of them marooned.

Now that he found himself close to the stranger, Jack could see that he appeared to be a mere wisp of a lad. His helmet was on his head, with the goggles pushed up, he wore what seemed to be almost new dungarees for they had a fresh appearance in startling contrast with those he and Perk wore over their other clothes to take up all the grease and oil that of necessity must be met with aboard any ship that required a motor for propelling purposes.

Jack’s first inclination was to decide the other must be one of those dudish young chaps who sometimes drift into the ranks of flying men. Not at all weak or yellow when occasion arose to prove their stamina, but so constituted by nature that they can “carry on” and yet show little signs of the ordinary pilot’s addiction to dirt.

He stepped toward the other, leaving to Perk the job of finding some means for securing the end of the rope, possibly to a stake driven into the sand or perhaps to the nearby wreck of the Stinson-Detroiter ship.

“Seems that you’ve had a little mishap, stranger,” Jack remarked with one of his pleasant smiles that always won him friends wherever he went. “If we can be of any assistance just call on us. It’s a part of our creed, you know, for air pilots to stand by one another in difficulty. Perhaps your boat may not be so badly smashed but what we can knock it into shape and get it up out of this queer old hole.”

He saw the boy drop the look of anxiety that had marked his face and even allow his features to relax in a smile.

“I don’t know how I can thank you for saying that – I am so eager to get out of this scrape, the worst that ever happened to me, but then I am something of a greenhorn pilot as yet, though even that fact couldn’t keep me from trying my wings. I must get out of this and be on my way again.”

And even as he listened to those pleading words, Jack realized that the pilot of the crashed Stinson-Detroiter plane was a girl!