Neither of the boys slept soundly that night. Their dreams were troubled
by a conglomeration of their experiences since their arrival at North
Hero, the weird boom of the waves as Champlain rose steadily, and a
confusion of people going by in search of places of safety. Several
times men stopped to inquire for lodgings or routes, and it seemed as if
a dozen dogs howled gloomily. But above it all, toward morning, there
was one sound that came to their subconscious minds and they stirred
fitfully as if trying to shake off a nightmare. Then suddenly they awoke
and sat up. It was still dark, that pitch darkness that is so thick just
before the first streaks of dawn brush the sky.
"I say, Buddy, did you hear anyone call?" Jim whispered.
"I was just going to ask you the same question," Bob answered. "I
thought I heard a cry for help." They sat listening tensely, straining
their ears to distinguish the call that had broken into their sleep, but
could make out nothing more than the sighing of the wind through the
bowing trees and the noises they had been hearing before. Jim started to
slip into his shoes and Bob followed his example.
"Let's get some clothes on, I can't sleep any more, can you?"
"No. Gosh, Jim, this is spooky." They slipped their trousers and
sweaters on over their pajamas, without stopping to don shirts. In two
minutes they were dressed and made their way carefully to the rim of the
water. "We'd better have a flashlight or we'll be stepping into it."
"I've got the little one in my pocket." Jim took it out and pressed the
button. Its faint tray cast a round glow, not very bright, but
sufficient to show them where to step. Austin led the way while Bob
followed close at his heels and finally they stopped on the edge of a
cliff and stood listening tensely. For what seemed like an hour,
although it was less than a minute, the world was oddly hushed, as if it
too were listening, then, clear and unmistakable from north of them,
somewhere on the lake, came a terrified cry and a shout for help.
"Let's get Her Highness. Somebody's out there," Bob whispered, and as
fast as they could they ran to the carriage shed, where the plane was
bumping the top of her wings on the high roof of the ceiling. In order
to get inside the boys climbed through the window on the opposite end,
and even then had to wade ankle deep in water. They lost no time in
getting ready, just enough to be sure that all was well and there was
plenty of gas in the tanks.
"All O. K.," Jim announced taking the pilot's seat.
"Right with you. I say, Old Man, we never can hear anything with the
engine going, and we can't see much through this pitch."
"I know it, and we don't dare stay on the water or we are likely to get
a tree in the works, but we've got to take a chance. That voice sounded
as if it's a little north, didn't you think so?"
"Yes, and sort of far away--muffled." They floated out into the cove,
all lights on, and Jim gasped as he saw that the wind had changed during
the night and the water on that side was dangerously full of wreckage.
He set his lips grimly, opened the throttle, raced out over great
rollers that teetered them even more than the day they returned from
Burlington in the storm. Her Highness lost no time in lifting herself
above the danger and soared up two hundred feet as her nose was brought
about and her course was set north by north west.
Anxiously Bob leaned over as far as his safety-strap would permit and
scanned the blackness beneath them hoping to catch sight of something
which would account for what they were seeking. Jim sent the plane in
wide circles in order to give Bob a chance to see as far as possible,
and although their lights helped some, they seemed to make the rest of
the night even darker. For ten minutes they rode in a fruitless search,
each time coming around a little further north.
"Jim, things I can make out are being carried fast toward the south.
Perhaps we're too far up," Bob said through the tube, and Jim nodded. He
changed the procedure, while the younger boy watched. Five minutes more
they circled, then Jim decided to climb. He tipped Her Highness' nose at
a sharp angle and zoomed two thousand feet just as fast as she could
scramble through the air, then he shut off the motor and let her glide.
The lake beneath them seemed a regular bedlam of sound, and as they
drifted forward at as gradual a descent as possible, they finally picked
up a frantic call.
"It's over there," Jim exclaimed and his buddy agreed. The plane was so
low now that they dared glide no longer, so Jim set the engine going
full blast as they made for the place.
"There's a light." Bob clutched his arm and pointed. Whoever had cried
out evidently had some dry matches or a cigarette lighter and was trying
to help them locate him. In a moment they were riding in close circles,
and then they made out what looked like the roof of a portable summer
house. They couldn't tell what was on top of it, but by that time the
morning light began to break slowly.
"What the heck can we do?"
"Tie the lariats together," Jim directed. That was but the work of a
moment, then Bob put a weight on one end of it and threw it over.
"If he can grab it, we can give him a tow." Jim nodded, so Bob leaned
over again. "Come a little lower." Her Highness obeyed, and with the
help of the speaking tube, they at last managed to get the plane in
proper position, and almost instantly there was a tug as the rope was
caught. It was evident that since they had come to him the stranded man
had been using his head, for he managed to keep from being dragged off
the roof, and even made the end of the lariat fast to a rod that stuck
out near the metal chimney.
"She's coming," Bob shouted--"Go easy or she'll be banged to bits."
Sturdily Her Highness taxied forward just as low as she could. Bob kept
his eyes on the house they were towing, and several times he caught his
breath sharply as a particularly heavy plank, a broken tree, or a
drowned animal came thumping into it. As it got lighter, the boy was
amazed to see that the roof held more than just the man, who had flung
himself on his face, his body sprawled out flat as he kept a woman and a
tiny baby from being jarred off.
"Oh, great guns," Bob whistled.
"Throw off the line," Jim directed. They were in the cove now, and
already Mr. Fenton and several men were on the shore, while two strong
young fellows were in the row boats, prepared to shove out and help. The
waves battered them all angrily, but Her Highness had to soar up out of
the way, and after a few minutes in the air where she waggled her wings
gaily over her victory, she was brought down again, and the Flying
Buddies hurried to learn about the man and his family.
"Are they all right, Aunt Belle?" Bob called as they went into the
kitchen.
"Yes. Here, you hold the little fellow a minute, while I stir this." She
promptly dumped the baby into her nephew's arms, and Jim grinned at his
brother's discomfort.
"Will it break, Mrs. Fenton?"
"Break--" She looked at Bob and laughed, "No, certainly not, if it can
come alive through such a night. They were driven to the roof hours ago
because the floors of those cottages are fastened to the ground and
can't get away--"
"I don't know how I can ever thank you fellows--" said the rescued man
as he came into the kitchen.
"Aw, please don't try. We thought we heard you call, so we went to see
what it was all about," Jim said quickly, but he had to take the hand
that was extended to him.
"If I had been alone I wouldn't have howled, but with my wife and baby I
had to do anything I could. We were asleep, and it seemed as if an
earth-quake gave us a broadside and we were full of water. We just
managed to get some blankets to keep the baby warm, and climb through
the window. We were on the veranda roof first, but that wasn't very
secure, so we got on the main part. It was good we moved, for the other
sections were battered off--"
"My land sakes alive--how awful. Here now, you take this in to your wife
and tell her to drink every bit of it like a good girl, and just as soon
as I get some more dry things on the baby, she can have him back. He is
a cunning little fellow--" Bob was no end relieved that his services as
a nurse were no longer required.
"Buster," he chuckled as he handed the baby to his aunt.
"My land sakes alive. How did you boys happen to get that man and his
folks? I never saw the like--never. I thought you were asleep by the
barn, and then, all of a sudden, some one said you were out down the
lake and you were coming in slow like. Fent got the glasses and saw
those folks--my land sakes alive, I never saw the like of it. How did
you happen to be out there?"
"We couldn't sleep, and we thought we heard someone call, so we went
out. Reckon we better get dressed, we haven't got much on," he added,
because several people were trooping into the kitchen and he didn't want
to be the center of an admiration meeting.
"Come down as soon as you're ready and have breakfast. You must be most
starved both of you." There is nothing like an early morning rescue
party to sharpen the appetite, so the boys did not take long to get
ready. Jim went down first and just as he came into the living room, the
telephone, which was a party line, gave a long persistent ring.
"That's forever ringing," Mrs. Fenton called to him. "Will you answer
it? I can't put down the baby for a minute."
"Glad to." Jim took down the receiver and heard the operator.
"Please do not try to use your telephone until further notice, unless
the call is _very_ important. The lines are congested. The Selectmen
have given orders that no one is to try to cross the bridges--either at
the north or south end of North Hero Island. Please tell people on the
road they cannot go any further." The girl repeated the same thing three
times to be sure that everybody got it, then there came a click as she
closed the connection. Austin gave the message to Mrs. Fenton, who
sighed heavily.
"My land sakes alive--there, there, you are almost ready, little fellow.
This is a nice baby! Now you can go to your mother." She hustled the
infant to his parents and then hustled back to serve her hungry
household. During the meal two serious-faced men came to the house.
"We heard that your nephews dragged in a family that might have been
drowned, Fent," one of them started.
"Yes they did," Mr. Fenton admitted and introduced the boys to the men,
who shook hands gravely.
"I've heard that there are some families stranded on the islands, and it
may be that some of the summer colonies have suffered just as that
family you brought in. We were wondering if you will help us get any
others, if there are any. We have several good strong power boats, but
we would waste a great deal of time trying to locate people and might
not find them all."
"If you will fly around and watch for signal fires or flags, then we
could send the boats directly and take them off," the other added.
"Of course we'll be mighty glad to help," Bob declared promptly.
"Thank you. Another thing, there may be some who haven't had much to eat
for a couple of days, not being able to use their boats. Could you drop
food to them?"
"Sure thing," Jim replied. "We'll take some weights along because we
don't usually carry anything like that. We just happened to have one
this morning or we might not have been able to give that fellow a tow."
"Thank you. We'll arrange to have boats and rafts at four points of the
island. If you find anyone, give the word to the nearest party. I'll
show you about where they are." He took a map from his pocket and
pointed to four places that would be used for stations. "You can come
down on the water to speak to the men we'll have there?"
"Yes, we'll manage."
"That will be good. We appreciate your help." Then he turned to Mrs.
Fenton. "My wife and some of the neighbors in the village are packing
boxes of food, sandwiches, coffee and milk. We'll send a truck--it ought
to be here in a quarter of an hour--and the boys can take it with them
and use their own judgment about dropping it."
"I can fix them some--"
"Judging by the number of people you have taken in I think that you are
doing your share, Mrs. Fenton. We won't ask you to do any more," the man
replied. "Now, I'll telephone to the boatmen--"
"They just told us not to use the phone," Jim explained.
"They will give me a connection," the man smiled. In a minute he was
giving information, directions and instructions, and finally the rescue
work was well organized. By the time the boys were ready to take off,
the truck appeared with boxes of food, and the chauffeur helped them
store it in the plane.
"We're lucky to have you fellows here," the man said, when finally the
task was accomplished.
"We're in luck to be here," Bob grinned. "My mother always said that I'd
like this place, and I do."
"Come along." Jim waved to the men, opened the throttle and Her Highness
tore across the cove, rose and started on her errand of mercy. She
seemed to appreciate the importance of the work before her, and never
did an airplane behave more beautifully. They went circling north on the
lake and were about to turn when Bob shouted through the tube.
"There's a raft load, look at it!" Jim glanced in the direction his
step-brother pointed and saw the crude raft being whirled like a top and
it was a marvel that the thing held together. The boys saw two boys,
young fellows, some household effects, and a little girl. Austin glanced
at the map, picked out the nearest station, and they raced to it, coming
down where the water happened to be fairly smooth.
"There's a raft out there," Bob shouted. Instantly the engine of the
power boat gave a bellow almost as furious as the plane's, and off the
party scooted, cutting through the waves and sending a rolling sheet of
foam on either side of them. Her Highness raced back to be sure the
rescuers did not miss their goal, and in a few minutes the first job was
being done well.
"Not a bad stunt," Bob grinned and then the Flying Buddies started to
work again. They discovered families huddled on tiny bits of land that
had been cut off by the water, others on great rocks and a number on
floating buildings that threatened to fall to pieces any minute. Each
time they led the way for the power-boats and had the satisfaction of
knowing that all were saved. About noon the four power-boats were out,
besides several smaller motor-boats and the boys spied two more families
stranded helplessly, so they decided to drop food.
"I'll tell them the men will come for them," Bob announced. He proceeded
to write the message in the box and dropped it over. In that particular
group they counted ten people, so they dropped more boxes. Then on they
circled. The men of the party waved their thanks and an hour later, Her
Highness returned, escorting the boats. The work went on for hours until
finally one of the men at a station shouted,
"Mrs. Fenton says that you fellows must come and eat."
"We'll stay a while longer--"
"No, you mustn't. You show us this bunch, then go home and tank up. It's
the Selectmen's orders and you have to obey."
"All right," Jim agreed, then he looked at the dial. It was half past
one and he could hardly believe his eyes. So the orders were obeyed, and
Her Highness too had to be tanked up for her gas supply was dangerously
low. In the afternoon the boys went up again, and although they circled
miles they discovered only two more people who needed rescuing, then
Bob, who was piloting, had an idea.
"I say, Buddy, I'm going to hop down on Fisher's Island and find Corso."
"We saw them earlier and they were all right," answered Jim.
"I know, but they might not be by morning. Let's just make sure."
"Suits me," Jim acquiesced. Her Highness was brought about and was soon
circling over Fisher's Island, which was more than half submerged, but
it did not look as if anyone on it would be in any immediate danger.
Soon Bob picked out a landing spot on an open space where the ground was
high and fairly smooth. Presently the plane was on the ground, and the
boys began to look about. It did not take them long to locate the
foreign man, who came to meet them.
"Burnam left?" he questioned anxiously.
"He surely did. Went on to Canada, and he can't get back because both
bridges are closed until the flood goes down," Jim explained.
"It is good that he is gone, but we cannot get away," Corso said, and he
scowled thoughtfully. "It may not be many days before he discovers that
you tricked him, then he will come back. He is very determined."
"I guess it must be pretty bad with you if you feel that way," Bob put
in quickly. He couldn't help wondering why the man was afraid.
"It is much bad, Sirs."
"Tell you what, we'll take you across to New York. Will that help?" Jim
offered cordially.
"It would be much help. Come." He led the way through a strip of woods
and around a boulder, where the man stopped, gave a low whistle, waited
for a response, then they went on and in a minute they came to a well
sheltered spot where the trees grew high and thick and the cliff formed
a semi-circle protection with an overhanging top.
"Whew," whistled Bob in astonishment. Back from the opening stood the
mysterious boy, straight as a die, but instead of overalls and brown
shirt, he wore a long white garment of some very fine material, and over
that was a richly embroidered coat, brilliant with peacock-feather
trimming. On his head was a deep fringe arrangement and at his feet a
strong box. The lid was open and its contents made the brothers think of
some Arabian Night treasure.
"You signaled, my uncle!" He spoke in perfect English, and the man
answered, briefly in their own tongue, whatever that was. "It is well,"
the boy nodded. Then he turned toward Jim and about his lips was a faint
smile. "It was considered best that I do not permit it to be known that
I understand your language."
"Holy Hoofs, and we were being little helpfuls trying to teach you," Jim
exploded.
"You have been most generous to us, also the Fentons."
"Well, we're glad to have been," Bob replied a bit weakly.
"My uncle knows men and I too recognize those who are trustworthy, even
though I am only twelve years old--"
"Only twelve. Why, you are as tall as I am."
"Today I am twelve. Because of your great kindness I shall impart to you
a little about the reason I am here, if you are interested--"
"I say, we've been busting to know ever since we first saw you, but you
needn't tell us a thing unless you want to," Jim assured him.
"You need bust no longer." Across the boy's face a smile flashed. "Let
us be seated. We shall be free from interruption." He spoke as if he
were some great personage giving an audience, but there was something
about his whole bearing that made the step-brothers have perfect faith
in him. They seated themselves on the ground close to him, while his
uncle stood on guard.
"Maybe you better close this," Bob suggested. "We didn't see anyone else
on the island, but you never can tell. Is that what Burnam's after?"
"Burnam is after much more than this," replied the boy, and he dropped
the lid, shutting the contents from sight. "I was born in a far land.
Its name I shall keep. Five hundred years ago my people were great
rulers of a happy nation. It was ruthlessly invaded, conquered, and
great works wantonly destroyed. A few of my fathers escaped destruction,
they tried to get back their land but their efforts were fruitless.
Later, they united secretly and hid their vast treasure which the
conqueror could never find. They kept together generation after
generation, although few outsiders are aware that any of the pure blood
are alive." The boy paused, but his audience made no comment.
"In my conquered land there is a beautiful statue to one of my blood who
fought successfully and helped free the nation from the devastator's
yoke." A gleam of pride shone in the boy's eyes.
"Did they get it back?" Bob whispered.
"No, but they got rid of the--the yoke. In the generations the number of
men of my race has grown. It is now like a vast army, secretly governed
by wise men. Many are scattered in different countries, learning the
best of the white men's way of living, keeping the best of their own
knowledge of life. There are still parts of my country that are
unsettled, and one day we shall unite there. We shall be versed in the
greatest sciences, and never again can we be conquered or put to rout by
ignorance or brute force--we shall be the conquerors, and we shall rid
ourselves of the waste races as your uncle rids the garden of rank
worthless weeds that would choke and smother the good about them." There
was no malice in the boy's tone, no bravado in his manner, he spoke
impersonally and without bitterness. His eyes shone with a fine
intelligence, he made his statements quietly, and once his eyes wandered
to the horizon as if they beheld that future.
"Accurate records are being kept by every generation and brought
together. I have been taught the ancient arts of my fathers, I have
worked with the soil as my fathers did, and now that I am twelve years
old, I am ready to study the sciences, the languages, higher
mathematics--the classics." He broke off a moment, then went on. "I may
not live to see the establishment of my race, it may not come for
hundreds of years, but it will come when we are fully prepared to take
the reins and hold them firmly." His eyes rested first on Bob, then Jim.
"Whether it is years hence, or centuries, because of what you have done
for one of our princes, the men of your tribe, James Austin, and of
yours, Bob Caldwell, will be spared, even though they be inferior, they
will be given a chance. I have spoken, and my uncle has written it into
the records."
"Gosh," Bob gasped. "If they aren't any good, don't bother with them."
His face flushed suddenly, he didn't know why, but he felt that weeds of
all kinds should be destroyed.
"Now, before you take us to New York, I will give you each a token. Give
it to your son, and your son's son, and on, for one day it will find its
way back to my land." He opened the box, drew out two large green
stones. They were oblong in shape, some marks had been worked into them,
and into a groove in one side was a tiny many-colored tube of exquisite
enameling. The boy pressed an invisible spring and the tube opened
revealing a slip of parchment covered closely with fine writing.
"I say--" Jim started to protest, but the boy paid no attention to him.
"Keep these always, they are fine emeralds. Here are smaller pieces." He
picked up two rings. "Wear these and wherever you are seen by any of my
people you will be helped and protected." He handed the jewels to his
amazed companions, then went on, "Mr. Fenton has been losing his
turkeys. Watch the man who is taking care of them, watch him closely."
"Thundering rattlers, is he the thief?"
"He is a naturally dishonest man. Watch him closely and you will learn
what happened to the turkeys."
"Thanks a lot, old man--gee, Uncle Norman will be no end obliged to you,
and gosh, he is already, for that bog you drained is still dry--"
"It will remain dry--" the boy assured him.
"Maybe we'd better be starting," Jim suggested, "that is, if you are in
a hurry to get to New York."
"We shall be glad to hurry."
"I say," Jim put in, "You know, maybe I'm a nut, but if you people, I
mean you and your uncle, would kind of act like ordinary people, not
wear anything that looks a bit different, or act as if you are trying to
keep out of sight, you wouldn't attract attention--nobody would pay any
attention to you at all, except maybe in a little place like North Hero,
where everybody knows everybody else," he finished hurriedly. The boy
sat thoughtfully for a moment, then he smiled and held out his hand.
"Thank you, it is excellent advice."
"When you are by yourselves you can act naturally, I mean as you do
anyway, but you look as if you are different, you seem to know more--"
"Thank you, we will do that, and I hope we meet again, Jim Austin and
Bob Caldwell."
"If you come to Texas, look us up. This is where we live." He gave the
boy a card, with the address scrawled on the back.
"We will get ready," Corso interrupted.
"Well, I say, where does this Burnam come in?" Jim asked.
"He was employed to do some task for one of our people and he suspected
that somewhere great wealth must be stored. He saw me once in my
father's house. When his work was done, he was paid and dismissed, and
taken away, so that he could not find the place again, but he came upon
my uncle and myself on your western coast. He believes that I know the
secret and tried twice to kidnap me, but he has failed each time, and he
will fail again, for it is written in the forecasts that I shall live to
a great age and that my enemies shall perish. One day you found a box,
it held knotted strings. Long before writing, or signs, tribes made
their records by that method, I know the language of the knots in the
colored strings."
"Why, I've read of that, learned it in school, old language," Bob
exclaimed with enthusiasm.