THE BLAZING BEACON
“What’s the trouble now, Dave?” speedily inquired Hiram, getting to his
feet and Elmer after him.
“No trouble at all, I fancy,” was the reply; “quite the contrary, in
fact. Look there.”
The young pilot of the _Comet_ pointed across country towards the beach.
Where a hill ran up to a sharp promontory jutting out over the ocean, a
bright light showed.
“Why,” cried Hiram, “it’s a blazing heap of some kind. Looks as if it
was up off the ground.”
“Yes, and it doesn’t burn like wood or oil. Notice the smoke and the way
the flames leap up in the air? What do you suppose it is, Dave?”
inquired Elmer.
“I can’t imagine, unless it is some beacon,” replied the young aviator.
“We can soon find out,” declared Elmer. “Wait a minute.”
The speaker ran to the biplane. He soon returned, his telescope in hand.
This he leveled at the distant glow.
“You’re right, Dave,” he announced excitedly. “It’s a beacon, sure, and
it’s pitch, sure. See for yourself.”
“Yes,” assented the young aviator, levelling the glass. “There is no
doubt that it is a signal of some kind. I can make out the skeleton legs
of some kind of a brazier.”
Hiram came in for a show at the spyglass. His decision enforced that of
his friends.
“What will we do—investigate?” he asked of their leader.
“We must do that,” replied Dave. “It can’t be very far away.”
“What will we do with the machine?” questioned Hiram, who did not relish
being left behind.
“We can roll it to the beach and keep it with us,” explained Dave. “Come
on.”
“Maybe this is an inhabited island after all,” suggested Elmer. “I’d
like to know. We don’t want to run into cannibals and have them roast
us.”
The airship boys got ready to leave their temporary camp. They gained
the beach, where progress was level and clear for the _Comet_. The
blazing beacon was an excellent guide, and they neared it rapidly. When
they came to the foot of the hill, they discovered a deep embrasure in
its surface.
“Run the machine in there,” directed our hero. “Nobody is likely to
disturb it before we return.”
It was with a good deal of curiosity and excitement that the boys
ascended the hill. That gained, Dave took a broad survey of its top. No
habitation or person was in view. At the edge of the highest point,
commanding an open view of the ocean, was a large brazier, such as is
used in light blacksmithing work. Its broad flanging top held a barrel,
evidently containing pitch or some readily inflammable material. The
fire sent up dense clouds of thick, black smoke. At the same time,
however, the bright flames shone far out over the waters with a
brilliant glow.
“Queer,” observed Hiram, staring at the brazier with no clue as to the
hand that had lighted it.
“Yes, some one started that fire, and quite recently,” declared Dave.
“I wonder why? And who it could be?” chimed in Elmer.
“We had better set about finding out,” suggested Hiram.
The young airman took the lead in a search for the mysterious owner of
the brazier. Finally, as they approached a slight dip in the surface of
the ground, he swung his arm back to command a halt.
Where some trees showed, the reflection from the fire outlined a ragged
tent made out of a sail. Near it were some boxes and barrels. There was
a small table and a stool, a little oil stove, and some cooking
utensils.
A hammock swung between two trees. Lying in this, apparently asleep, the
curious explorers made out a human form. The young airman waved his
comrades back and cautiously approached the unexpected layout before
him.
A near glance showed our hero that the occupant of the hammock was a
white man garbed in nautical costume. There seemed to be no other person
in the vicinity. Dave reached out and gave the hammock a rough swing.
Its occupant must have been a light sleeper. With wonderful suddenness
and a sharp yell he bounded from his bed. He was a thin, short man, not
weighing more than ninety pounds—so undersized, in fact, as he stood
gaping at Dave in open-mouthed wonder, that the latter felt inclined to
laugh at the grotesque figure he made.
“Why—where—when!” gasped out the man, and, almost overcome, he could
utter no further coherent words.
“Do I happen to come here—and my friends? That beacon directed us; who
are you?” asked our hero.
“Shipwrecked mariner,” was the reply, in a mournful tone.
“You are a castaway, then?”
“That’s it—good ship _Flying Scud_, Nantucket. Been here two months.
What’s your craft?”
“The airship _Comet_,” replied our hero.
“W-what?” and the man looked astounded and then grinned. He rubbed his
eyes to convince himself that he was not dreaming. Then he gazed at Dave
in a hurt way, as if he felt that our hero was making fun of him.
“That’s true,” the young airman hastened to say. “Myself and my friends
arrived here by accident only a few hours since. The power on our
machine gave out, and we landed in the fog, not knowing where and we
don’t know now.”
By this time Hiram and Elmer had advanced to the spot. The man scanned
them closely. He rubbed his head in a worried, uncertain sort of a way,
as if figuring out something that puzzled him. Then he said, after a
long pause:
“I was in hopes my beacon had called a ship. Seeing as it isn’t, I
suppose there is no chance of my getting away from here?”
“Why not?” challenged Dave, encouragingly. “Did you ever ride in an
airship, my friend?”
“No, never saw one. I’ve read about them and have seen pictures of them.
To a regular tar, used to solid planks for nigh onto twenty years, those
flimsy things don’t appeal, somehow.”
“That’s because you don’t know what real sailing is,” declared Hiram.
“Where is this new-fangled contrivance of yours?” inquired the man,
looking into the sky and then all around the hill.
“Come with us and we’ll show it to you,” promised Dave.
“All right. Then I’ll show you my ship.”
“Oh, you have one?” inquired Elmer in surprise.
“What is left of the good old _Flying Scud_, yes,” answered the
castaway, mournfully. “You see, friends, she must have struck a reef and
sprung a leak. Anyhow, that dark, stormy night when I found myself
drifting on her alone, I had to figure out that the captain had given
her up as doomed. They had abandoned her in the long boat while I was
asleep in the forecastle. Anyhow, when I came on deck, I found the ship
deserted. Maybe the crew thought I had been swept overboard. Perhaps
they couldn’t find me—you see, I’m so small,” concluded the speaker,
plaintively.
“Say, mister, how did you get out of it?” asked the interested Hiram.
“The _Flying Scud_ was rolling like a dancing sailor. I thought it was
the last of Jabez Hull, yours truly. As she sided over, I strapped a
life belt on me and dropped into the sea. Well, to make a long story
short, I landed on this island. The next morning I found the old ship a
wreck but her bow out of water, down on the beach yonder. She’s been
there since. Can’t be budged, can’t be used, but I’ve been breaking her
up to build some kind of a craft to get away in. Then, too, I’ve got
food and furniture for my camp here. I ain’t much of a ship carpenter
and got sort of discouraged, and for a week I’ve got busy and burned up
a barrel of tar as a beacon.”
The boys pulled the _Comet_ into view when they reached the spot where
they had stowed it. The flare from the beacon enabled a full view of the
biplane. It seemed as though Jabez Hull would never cease staring at it.
He forgot all about his own forlorn situation in asking half a hundred
wondering questions as to the machine and what it could do.
When he led the airship boys down the beach and showed them the wreck,
it was their turn to become interested. What pleased the young aviators
most of all was the discovery of a small portable forge. This the
castaway had removed from the ship to assist in building his boat of
escape. This, scarcely begun, was lying on the sand.
“Fellows,” said Dave, to his assistants, “this is a great stroke of luck
for us. We can repair the machine in a good way, with a forge and tools
to help us.”
“Yes, and there’s a whole tank of gasoline aboard the _Flying Scud_,”
volunteered Hull.
The boys went back with the castaway to his camp. No one thought of
sleeping amid the excitement of the occasion.
“We must get up early in the morning,” said Dave. “We must lose no time
in starting on our way.”
“See here,” spoke up the castaway; “I suppose there’s no chance of my
thinking of having a show to get away from here with you?”
“We shall certainly try to find a place for you,” replied Dave,
promptly.
“You will?” cried Hull, joyously. “Oh, but that’s grand! See here,
friend, you know what I’ll do if you fellows get me safely to the
American coast?”
“What, now?” questioned Hiram, who liked to hear the odd old mariner
talk.
“I’ll give you twenty thousand dollars.”
Our hero said nothing, but Elmer stared hard at the speaker and Hiram
nudged him and winked.
“Provided,” continued Jabez Hull—“provided you take my treasure also
along in your airship.”
“Your treasure, Mr. Hull?” repeated Dave. “What does it consist of?”
“A keg—yes, friend, probably the most valuable keg in the world. It
weighs over fifty pounds, and it’s precious as diamonds. Land me
anywhere near to a big city till I realize, and I’ll hand you over
twenty thousand dollars in good, solid, hard cash.”