CHAPTER XXII—THE BIRD BOYS’ TRIUMPH

The aeroplane was speeding down upon the spot, with that

loud-throated siren going at full blast. Andy had been holding

himself in so long now, that it was utterly impossible for him to

stand it any longer; so he too let out a series of ear-piercing

shrieks that at least added to the din.

Not content with that the boy commenced firing his repeating Marlin.

He did not bother trying to take any particular aim, which would of

course have been next to impossible in the swaying aeroplane, any

way; but only meant to add all he could to the tremendous din

accompanying their swoop.

Frank could see all that happened, because they were no longer far

away. No need of glasses either at this stage of the game. He could

note the movements of every one of those who had been in the act of

rushing the Mexican at bay when the appearance of the biplane in the

near heavens came to put a damper on their enthusiasm.

Although at first stunned by the sight that met their startled eyes,

and the ear-splitting sounds accompanying the same, the runaway

Indians from the reservation had quickly remembered that they still

had legs. If any of them had been a bit wobbly before, on account of

the potions they had been imbibing, it seemed to be driven from

their systems by this scare, for they ran like prize sprinters. Even

the several wounded warriors endeavoring to flatten themselves down

behind the sand dunes, as though in hopes of being able to hide from

the argus eyes of this wonder of the skies.

Andy no longer had any fears concerning the attack, for he saw that

it had been effectually broken up by their coming. He started to

shout again, but found it beyond his ability, for the situation had

resolved itself into a comical farce by this time in the boy’s mind,

and offered all the humorous aspects of a great joke.

But none of those Indians thought so, if one could judge from the

way they were running. Andy had seen rabbits speeding away after the

crack of a gun; but that was hardly in the same class with what

those braves did that morning.

Some of them jumped this way and that as they sped off; as though

under the impression that they might thus escape the swarm of

bullets that their imagination filled the air with, on hearing the

crackle of Andy’s fast-shooting gun. Others dodged behind each

succeeding sand hill, and then appearing beyond, continued their

flight in eccentric curves; only glad if by this means they might

escape the terrible eye of that mighty bird that came whirring

along, letting out such hideous war cries, and assuming all the

appearances of a dragon as pictured by the Chinese on their flags

and everywhere.

Frank did not attempt to alight just then; he believed that it was

good policy to make sure that the hostiles had all been frightened

off before exposing the fact that after all it was only two boys in

some clever invention of the white man who had come upon the scene.

And so, instead of heading directly for the spot where Jose lay

behind the two ponies, which they now realized were surely dead,

Frank continued to sweep around in a widening circle.

It was worth while to see the abject terror of such of the Indians

as they passed over. They would flatten themselves on the burning

sand, as though hoping in this way to escape the attention of the

terror that was seeking its prey; nor did any one of them dare to

turn his head to look upward at the monstrous bird with that loud

shriek.

From a distance one or two discharged guns at the speeding

aeroplane, but of course there was not one chance in ten thousand of

the bullets doing any execution while the Bird boys were rushing

along at such a pace; indeed, they did not even hear the whine of

the passing lead.

Frank had his hands full taking care of the biplane, so that even

had he desired to do so he could not have added anything to the

racket. One hand controlled the lever which brought about the

circling movement of the aeroplane, while with the other he kept

that siren busy.

But by now Andy had bethought him of another means for adding to the

panic of the fleeing Indians. In the box just back of him he

happened to have a number of large cannon firecrackers. Under

ordinary conditions these would appear to be rather queer things to

carry on an aeroplane; but it seemed that Andy was particularly

interested in experimenting with dropping stones which he called

“bombs,” from a great height, in order to see how aeroplanes might

be made useful in war times. And thinking some time to rather

astonish Frank by sending down some of those big explosives, he had

smuggled them aboard.

The idea had about passed from his mind at this time, but suddenly

remembering the big red crackers, he was now pulling them out, and

feeling for some of those wind matches they always carried when on a

trip, because they could be used no matter what current of air they

happened to be passing through.

Frank did not see what his cousin was doing. In the first place he

had enough to look after as it was; and then again, when he could

spare a second, he wanted to ascertain what the Indians were up to.

The first thing he knew about it was when a terrific report came

from directly under the aeroplane, and close to the face of the

sandy stretch. Immediately on top of it came a shriek from Andy.

“Oh! it nearly fell on top of that Indian before it exploded, Frank!

If only you could have seen him go head over heels; and now he’s

running to beat the band! Talk to me about a scared rabbit, these

noble red men are sure the limit. I really believe they think the

Day of Judgment has come along ahead of time. If you keep it up much

longer, Frank, I’m going to fall right out of my seat; I’m laughing

so hard I just can’t sit still.”

“Then perhaps it’s about time we called a stop on the excitement,

and let the poor fellows get away,” said Frank.

“No danger of them coming back again,” ventured Andy, as he threw

his last big cannon cracker in the quarter where he had caught sight

of another brave trying to dig a hole in the sand, as though wild to

cover himself up, and thus avoid attracting the attention of the

monster bird.

His aim was pretty fair, since Andy had been practicing this thing

for quite some time now. The explosion took place on schedule time,

too; and with about as tremendous a result as before; since it sent

the terrorized warrior flying off as if he believed the Evil Spirit

were in full pursuit.

Frank turned back.

The coast seemed clear of Indians now, even the wounded braves

having found some way of hiding from sight. Perhaps they had in

despair scooped hollows out of the burning sand, and were even now

lying under a scanty covering of the same, trembling in mortal

terror of discovery.

Neither of the Bird boys cared whether this were so or not. They had

succeeded in accomplishing their main object; which of course had

been to give the assailants of Jose a severe scare, so as to scatter

them to the four winds. And now the next thing they wanted to do was

to drop to the earth, and capture the man himself.

Accordingly Frank guided the biplane to where he thought best to

make his landing. Then he proceeded to accomplish this ordinary feat

with his accustomed ability.

As the sand was loose and liable to clog the wheels, he had to be

additionally careful about landing. And Frank had already

experimented in getting up again after dropping upon such a shifting

bed, so that he knew just how it should be done.

Picking out a spot which looked better than anything around it, he

brought the aeroplane to the ground so softly that it almost seemed

like a thistle-down blown by the wind, and alighting.

The motor had ceased to whirr, and the propellers to whizz as Andy,

clutching his Marlin in his grasp, sprang from his seat to the sand.

Frank was hardly three seconds behind him, and it might be noticed

that he too held one of the useful guns.

Who could tell what need they might have for these life preservers,

when adrift in such a desert land, and with reckless Indians all

around them; not to speak of the man who lay behind the two dead

ponies, with his gun covering them even now.

Frank was not taking any chances with Jose. He knew that the Mexican

must be in a desperate frame of mind, and ready to fight to the last

gasp before he would consent to yield. And Frank believed in

strategy when it could be made to answer the purpose.

What they wanted above all else just now was the return of little

Becky to the care of her legal guardian. They were not appointed to

wreak vengeance on the head of the father who had seen fit to steal

his own child away. Besides, somehow, after seeing how valiantly

Jose had held the whole band of reservation Indians at bay, both

boys felt considerable more respect for the Mexican. At least he was

no coward, even if his actions in the past had been along that line,

Jose, like so many of his class was a bravo; he could display mean

traits toward women and children, but face half a dozen men in a

brawl, or a fight like this, without showing the white feather.

So Frank immediately held up his hand, as he called aloud:

“Halloo! Jose Sandero! do not fire upon us! We will not do you harm

if you turn over the child to us to take back to her home! Do you

understand me?”

They saw the figure of the Mexican now. He had scrambled to his feet

to face the boys who had come so happily to his rescue just in time

to save his life. Perhaps this fact was duly impressed upon the mind

of the man from across the border. He owed these lads something, and

a Mexican always has an exaggerated sense of his own honor; it is a

heritage he has received from his Spanish ancestors far back.

“Si, senors,” he answered back, in a mellow tone, “I understand.

Come closer that we may talk it over. I promise you I will not fire

one shot. Carramba! it is only one that I have left me, after all

you saw.”

Then they advanced until close by where the two dead ponies lay. One

thought was in the minds of both Frank and his cousin—the little

girl, how had she fared while all the bullets were flying through

the air, sent by half-drunken Indians who cared little where they

landed.

Jose had suffered. His left arm hung almost helplessly at his side,

and they could see that the blood was dripping from his fingers; but

he clutched his repeating gun in the right hand and seemed still

full of the lust of battle.

“How about the child; is she safe?” called Frank almost afraid to

ask the question, for his heart seemed in his throat with the

dreadful suspense.

“Surely, senors,” came the immediate reassuring reply. “I saw to it

that she lay flat on the ground where nothing could injure her. Look

and see for yourselves,” and with that he spoke something to little

Becky, so that she immediately sprang to her feet and stretched her

tiny hands longingly toward the boys.

At that both of them experienced a deep sense of relief. It began to

look, if only Jose proved reasonable, that the end of their long and

arduous air chase was now in sight, and that presently they could

proceed back to the ranch, bearing with them the little sprite whose

abduction had created all this excitement.

“We would make terms with you, Jose,” said Frank in a business like

way.

“I am ready to hear what you have to say, young senor,” came the

reply.

“You admit that our coming has probably saved your life?” Frank went

on, thinking it the part of wisdom to have that point well

understood in the beginning.

“Si, senor, it is true, and for that Jose is grateful; if it had not

been so he would not consent to give up the child, even if you tried

to recover her by force. But you have done me a good turn, and

perhaps we can make terms. If, then, I hand her over, will you agree

that I go my way unmolested?”

“We willingly agree to that, Jose. You may be a bad man, but we saw

you stand off those Indians like a brave one, and for that we

respect you. Yes, we will promise not to raise a hand to molest you.

Listen Jose, if you place the little girl in our hands we will

promise to do even more than that, if so be you are courageous

enough to trust yourself with us in our aeroplane. We could rise

with you, and fly far away across the desert to where you will be

near the border. There we can land, and give you a chance to save

yourself from these Indians, who may hang around here, seeking

revenge for the wounds you have given them.”

That was a square offer on the part of Frank. Andy held his breath,

wondering if the other would dare accept it. The same courage that

had led Jose to face the guns of the Indians might not be sufficient

to allow of his getting aboard that wonderful air bird, and let

himself be carried up among the clouds.

Jose was hesitating between opinions. He hardly knew which seemed

the worse of the two. But one danger he could understand, while the

other was along the line of the mysterious and unfathomable.

They saw him pondering for a full minute. Then, as if he had made up

his mind, he threw up his hand.

“I will accept your offer, senor,” he said. “A man can die but once,

and what matter if he fall from the clouds, he may never know what

hurts him. And if I am left here without a mount, the Indians are

sure to get me. Advance, then, senors, and fix it as you please. I

am ready to take the word of such honorable young men.”

But all the same Andy could see that he shuddered when he cast a

glance over toward the quarter where the stranded biplane lay, as

though the mere thought of allowing himself to be carried up in the

regions of the upper currents aboard that frail combination of

engine, planes, and rigid uprights and stays, struck Jose as with a

cold breath from the Arctic regions.

The Bird Boys' Aeroplane Wonder; Or, Young Aviators on a Cattle Ranch · 第 22 / 23 章