THE DESERTED SHACK
“Well, that’s somehow I guess over, and I’m mighty glad,” was the way
Perk voiced his feelings, when the clouds were rolling away, and the
heavenly host of stars backed up the moon in lighting up the firmament.
“Same here,” echoed Jack, still more or less tired after his energetic
battle with the unleashed elements.
“And strikes me the air’s got some chilly,” added the other; “I own up
I’m shivering to beat the band right now. Where d’ye figger we might be,
partner—must a lost our course in all that kettle o’ rain an’ wind, an’
drifted far to the south, eh, what, old hoss?”
“No question about it, Perk; I could feel the pull right along; still,
there wasn’t a thing to do but let the old crate take the reins in her
teeth. Once morning comes we’ll manage somehow to get a line on our
locality, and swing back to our course.”
“Some hours off yet,” ventured Perk, whose lips were indeed trembling,
as if the chill was beginning to get in its work—perhaps all that
recent excitement was helping to make him shiver, as it often will, even
in the case of the most valiant of men.
Jack noticed this fact, even though he himself experienced nothing
similar, for some reason or other.
“See here, Perk, you ought to have a chance to sit alongside a warm fire
and dry off; the rain must have got under your slicker, and I reckon now
you’re slopping around in water back there. Something’s _got_ to be done
about it.”
“Shucks! boss, don’t bother ’bout me; I’m a hard-shell you must know,
an’ a little dampness ain’t agoin’ to do me any harm, Jack.”
“Just the same we’ll try and make a landing,” continued the other, “if
there’s half a chance; all I’d want would be to stack up against a level
stretch of upland, where the drainage had carried off all that flood.”
“Yeah, that sounds all to the good, boy but what difference will it
make, I want to know? After such a storm it’s bound to be some cold even
away down here along the Texas-Arizona line; they call them Northers,
jest like I’ve heard they do down in Florida. Forget it, partner—I’m a
tough guy, an’ ain’t wantin’ to be coddled like a baby.”
“Just the same I say we’re going to land, if half a chance shows up,”
affirmed the pilot, in that set way of his. “We’ll find the stuff to
build some sort of fire, Perk, where you could make a pot of hot coffee;
which’d do you more good than a switch of hard liquor. Put that in your
pipe and smoke it.”
Perk remained silent for almost two whole minutes, during which time no
doubt he was revolving in his mind what Jack had proposed—in
imagination he could almost _smell_ the delicious aroma of the coffee,
boiling so merrily over the red coals and even feel a joyous sensation
of warmth stealing through his chilled body.
“Okay, Jack; you win, hands down. Me for the coffee every time, to be
followed by a quiet smoke o’ my fav’rite brand o’ tobac. Have your own
way about it, partner.”
“Then get ready to try and make out what sort of ground we’ll soon be
passing over,” added Jack, as he turned the ship earthward, and slid
down on a long glide, with the motor clamped shut. “We’ll skim along
close enough for you to get a good idea as to how matters stand, and yet
giving enough distance to keep clear of any clump of trees, or little
bald knobs of rises.”
Presently Perk assured him he could manage to get fair glimpses at what
lay below; at which Jack again started on an even keel, moving with as
little speed as was compatible with safety.
It was not very long before the watcher gave tongue.
“Looks good to me down yonder, partner—guess now we might make a safe
an’ sane landin’—’specially with _you_ at the stick. Circulate a little
bit to the south, brother, ’cause it looks some better thataways.”
This Jack did, and then at another signal from the observer, he
proceeded to drop down with almost as much confidence as he might have
felt when making a landing on Candler Field, well lighted, and with
every convenience suited to safety and comfort.
His confidence, it seemed, had not been misplaced, for they effected a
very fair contact, all things considered, even though the landing was
somewhat “joggly and rough” as Perk expressed it.
Once the ship came to a stop and both of them hastened to clamber out of
their close quarters—“cribbed, cabined and confined,” Jack sometimes
liked to say in connection with their limited cockpit, although his pal
always reminded him of the fact that _cabin_ was something only
conspicuous by its absence.
Perk’s first movement was to start threshing his arms against his thighs
with more or less vigor, in which he showed good common sense since
there is no better method for stirring up sluggish circulation after a
long period of inaction. Jack on his part commenced to check up on
certain sections of the undergear, meaning to make certain he had done
no damage in making connection with the earth under such unfavorable
conditions.
“Everything in ship-shape, I reckon, Perk,” he announced. “And now let’s
make out to find something in the line of trees, where we might pick up
enough wood for that fire.”
“Looks kinder like things’d be mighty well soaked after all that
downpour,” affirmed the shrewd Yankee-Canadian; “so it’d be a tough job
coaxin’ stuff to take fire. But wait a minute, partner—I didn’t get a
chance to tell you that I spied what looked like an ol’ tumbledown shack
over to windward—I guess now it might be abandoned, but just the same,
partner, we’d be apt to run across some dry wood inside.”
“Suppose you step over and take a look-in, Perk,” suggested the other.
“I’ll stand by the crate here, and keep our little glim working, so
you’ll get your bearings when you start back.”
“You said it, Jack,” acceded the lanky one, always eager for any sort of
service; “an’ by the same token now I’ll tote my gun along—never c’n
tell what sorter game you’ll stack up against on these here Texas
plains, I’m told. I feel like I could knock over a wolf er two, just to
get my blood to movin’ at a faster clip—how ’bout it, boss?”
“Suit yourself, Perk,” he was told, as Jack climbed back into the
cockpit so as to manipulate the light he mentioned, and which would
prove sufficient to serve the wanderer as a beacon when wishing to
retrace his steps.
Accordingly Perk wandered off, having decided as to the quarter where he
had glimpsed what looked like an old and lonely shack or cabin, faintly
seen in the moonlight.
He came back in a short time, bubbling over with satisfaction.
“It’s all right, Jack—just like I guessed, it turned out to be an
ownerless shack but the roof looks like it might’ve shed the rain, an’
oh! boy! heaps o’ dry wood inside, with a whoppin’ big fireplace where
you could slap on the biggest log agoin’. Mebbe I ain’t glad you thought
o’ this game. Come along, an’ we’ll fetch the stuff for a warm
snack—coffee, crackers, an’ bacon in the bargain. Talk to me about
luck, it’s comin’ to us in big chunks.”
“Oh! we’ve got to get used to that sort of thing,” said Jack, in the
most matter-of-fact tone imaginable; “when you’re on such a wonderful
lay as this anything’s likely to happen, and all kinds of surprises
spring out at you.”
“I wonder,” was all Perk could say in reply; but he lost no time in
gathering together such articles as aluminum coffeepot, skillet, cups,
and such other things as he knew would be needed to complete their
little midnight spread.
“I reckon it’s safe for us to leave our crate off here,” remarked the
cautious Jack, “but I’ll fix things so no busybody can take-off while
we’re away,” which he did without any trouble; after which they both set
out to move along to the deserted shack Perk had located, lying right
there, just as if a favoring Fate had designed it for their especial
benefit in an emergency, as the grateful Perk told himself.
Arriving at the humble shack, that once may have housed a happy family
in days that were gone, they made use of Jack’s electric torch in order
to gather some dry splinters of wood, which, heaped above some paper on
the open hearth, soon blazed up, and afforded them an opportunity to
take a look around.
Other fuel more lasting was hurriedly added to the fire, and this done
the two air adventurers took stock of their surroundings. There was
nothing much to see, since the shack happened to be entirely devoid of
any kind of furniture, even of the most primitive make; but the roof had
stood the ravages of time, and promised to hold out for years still to
come.
Perk held out his chilled hands to the blaze but only for a few minutes;
apparently the possibility of brewing some “nectar” was an overpowering
temptation, for presently he started to work.
In short order he had the steam coming out of the coffee pot spout, and
a most delightful odor permeated the interior of that ancient shack.
When the coffee was ready, Perk poured some of the amber fluid in both
aluminum cups, and offered Jack one, together with a freshly opened
carton of tempting crackers.
“Goes right to the spot,” the self-made _chef_ observed, rubbing a hand
across his stomach, as though experiencing the most blissful sensation
there; “best coffee I ever tasted, barrin’ none, an’ say, I’ve tried it
a good many places like France and Germany, as well as in Turkey too.”
“Same here,” Jack assured him, as he drained his first cup. “By the way,
didn’t you say you’d fetched some bacon along over here?”
“Jest what I did, partner, an’ now I’ve had my fust swaller o’ coffee
I’ll get a move on an’ soon have some o’ the same asizzlin’ in the pan.”
He started to carry out his words, with the interested Jack watching his
efforts to try and make the frying pan set evenly on the fire, a feat
that requires considerable knowledge of camp tactics in order to be
successful. After one near spill, with Perk only saving an upset by
quick work, Jack modestly broke in to give a bit of advice, not
forgetting, however, that old saying about “too many cooks spoil the
broth.”
“Too hot to keep hold of the handle looks like, partner; now if only we
were outdoors we might find stones enough to form some sort of
foundation on three sides of the fire, where you could rest your pan.
Hold on, here’s this old hearth that was made of some kind of Mexican
bricks—adobe they call them and it looks to me like some of ’em might
be loose. Here, I’ll manage to pry a few up for you, Perk, old man—just
hold—your—horses and——”
Jack did not finish his sentence, and the cook, glancing up to see what
ailed him, found his pal holding the first adobe in an uplifted hand,
while he was himself staring hard into the cavity from which it had
come, as if he saw something wonderfully fascinating there!