A SCOUT, AND A DISCOVERY.
Several days passed.
With the exception of Sunday, the two wide-awake Bird boys put in all
the time possible in learning the ropes. Whenever the weather was
favorable they might be seen careering around the aviation field in
their gallant little Bleriot monoplane, now rising to greater heights
than they had ever dared venture before, and anon coming down in some
daring “spiral” that evoked loud cheers from those who, from below,
witnessed the new maneuver.
The biplane was also in evidence during these times. Puss Carberry
was wise in his day and generation, however. He had awakened to the
fact that in Frank and Andy Bird he had competitors worthy of his best
steel, and that if he hoped to outgeneral them as rivals on the day of
the race he must get busy.
So he and Sandy, instead of soaring aimlessly about, enjoying
themselves, began to study the humor of their airy steed. They found
plenty to do, for the vagaries of an aeroplane are numerous indeed.
Each pair of aviators had its particular little group of backers in the
shape of boys, who stared and cheered as they watched the evolutions
and stunts which were successfully engineered.
Frank was taking no unnecessary risks. There were numerous things which
of necessity they must learn, since at any moment during a flight such
knowledge might be the means of saving their lives. And he went about
the task of understanding just how volplaning down, boring up and such
maneuvers are successfully accomplished by expert airmen, just as he
did everything else he undertook, determined to be a master of the
science before he finished.
It was now Tuesday. The great day was to be Friday, when on account
of the attractive program laid out, it was believed there would be a
greater crowd present in Bloomsbury than at any other time during Old
Home Week.
By degrees the Bird boys had succeeded in mastering their machine, so
that now even Andy could run it successfully. He was proud of the fact,
and yet it might be noticed that he did not go around boasting.
Truth to tell, Andy had serious thoughts these days. In his mind he
was perhaps picturing the time when he hoped to be able to scour the
country down in that tangled wilderness of the isthmus, where his
father’s balloon had vanished from the sight of mortal man. It was a
solemn duty with Andy, and while he said very little about it, even to
his chum, Frank could tell pretty well what was engrossing his thoughts.
On this afternoon the breeze had died out altogether, as is often the
case in July. Although it was pretty hot, still the day was an ideal
one for flying.
They had been working on the monoplane most of the morning, installing
a searchlight, arranging a barometer close to the thermometer, so that
the pilot could observe the action of the mercury without turning his
head, and even fixing a new barograph in place. This last instrument
Frank had sent for lately and was much interested in.
“Pretty soon we’ll want to know how high we are flying, and this will
register the top notch,” he said, as they examined the instrument with
interest.
“Makes me think of the self-registering thermometers I’ve seen,”
declared Andy. “You put one out over night and the mercury pushes down
to a certain degree, which is marked as the limit. Then you can look at
it any old time and know, after which you set the register again for
another shy.”
“Well,” said Frank, “this does its work on the same principle, in
that it registers the highest point reached. When there is a contest
on for height, I believe these registers are placed so there can be no
tampering with them, and afterwards they are taken in charge by the
committee and examined.”
“Say, why not take advantage of this afternoon to make a little trip
over in the direction of Old Thunder Top?” suggested Andy, eagerly.
Frank shook his head as he remarked:
“You forget that one of the conditions of entry to that race is that
each contestant agreed not to go within a quarter of a mile of the
mountaintop before the time set for the trial. The idea is that the one
who succeeds may be the actual first person known to have ever set foot
on the summit of the mountain.”
“Oh, shucks! I haven’t forgotten that!” exclaimed Andy, impatiently.
“But we’ve stuck to our old field here, rising and circling, till I’m
sick of seeing it. To tell the truth, I hunger and thirst for new
pastures. There’s nothing to hinder us from taking a lively spin of
twenty miles, if we want, so long as we keep away from that plateau up
yonder. Say yes, Frank!”
Of course the idea appealed to his cousin with equal force and he
could not resist Andy’s plea.
“All right, then. I suppose it would be a good idea to take a little
spin somewhere,” he said. “We’ve mastered the machine pretty well for
novices.”
“Yes,” continued Andy, with a sly grin, “and it ain’t any harder off
there in the forest, in case we fall from five hundred feet, than here
in the open. Fact is, we might have a better chance by lighting in the
branches of a big oak or a chestnut.”
“Well, let’s get ready to make the venture,” said Frank, rising to
his feet; “but I hope all the same that we may not have to try that
drop you joke about. One thing we can do is to climb up so as to get a
line on how high Old Thunder Top really is. There’s always been a hot
dispute about that, you know.”
“That’s so,” observed the other, scurrying around in search of things.
“I’ve heard a high school teacher say it was not over seven hundred
feet, as distance was so deceptive. And on the other hand, a surveyor
who was used to judging distance told me he felt sure it would go much
beyond a thousand feet. Now we’ll get a line on it, and the day of the
race the facts will be known to a dead certainty.”
In a short time both air boys were ready for the flight.
“Put on your coat, Andy,” advised Frank, on seeing that his chum was
about to take his place in his shirt sleeves. “While it’s oppressively
hot down here, don’t you know that five hundred feet up the air will be
chilly. And if we are moving at the rate of a mile a minute, you’ll be
wishing you had your sweater on, mark my words.”
Andy smiled, but all the same he donned his coat. Frank knew, for there
was precious little that escaped him. And Andy, as a rule, was quite
satisfied to take pattern by his wide-awake cousin.
There were a few fellows hanging around. It was holiday time and on
such a hot day they cared precious little for baseball or any other
sport requiring exertion. In their minds it was much finer watching
what the Bird boys would do next, for by now all of juvenile Bloomsbury
had been seized with a severe attack of what Andy called “aviatus,” and
numerous projects for building aircraft were being discussed in homes
and on the commons.
As usual there was a whoop of pure delight from the gathered boys
when the little monoplane started upward. None of them had been
taken into the secret of what new stunts were to be undertaken, but
they anticipated that Frank and Andy must have something up their
sleeves--they looked so mysterious after that conference.
The aeroplane rose with not the slightest hitch. They were getting so
accustomed to handling the machine by now that it seemed second nature
to accomplish a successful rise. Indeed, as yet there had not been the
slightest serious accident to alarm them, since the engine was cut off
so suddenly on that first day.
After circling the field a few times at furious speed, “just to get his
hand in,” as Frank said, the pilot turned the nose of the little flier
straightaway in an easterly direction.
To their ears was borne the faint whoops from the cluster of envious
boys left on the aviation field, as they realized what sort of new
program the young aviators had on tap.
“How high are we now?” asked Andy, as he craned his neck and looked
down upon the country that lay far below, and which was spread out for
miles in all directions around them.
Frank laughed.
“Why,” said he, “you seem to forget that it isn’t necessary any longer
to depend on guesswork, when you’ve got that hunky little barograph
almost under your nose. Suppose you just take a squint and inform me.”
“Sure, pop!” exclaimed Andy, radiantly. “I had just forgotten all about
that new contrivance. Hey! what d’ye think Frank, we’re sailing along
right now about seven hundred feet up. Phew! that’s going some for new
beginners, eh?”
“It’s fine. I don’t think we’d better go any further just now, but drop
down to within a couple of hundred, and see how the lake and the woods
look up this way.”
“But before you begin to go down, Frank, I want you to take a squint
over toward Old Thunder Top. Just notice, will you, that while we’re
now up seven hundred, that summit is still higher--several hundred
feet, I reckon.”
“Which shows how little that teacher knew,” Frank observed. “Why, we’ve
been up to the foot of that big cliff many a time and if we’d only had
this little business along we’d soon found out that it was close on a
thousand there. Now sit close, for I’m going to spiral down a bit.”
They began to move around in circles in dropping, as the engine was
throttled down. By now Frank had this little trick down to a science,
though he refused to try and show off at any time and thus take
unnecessary risks.
When the aeroplane had reached a level of about two hundred feet from
the earth, the engine was once more accelerated and they resumed their
steady onward progress.
“It’s sure a treat to look down on the lake like this. Beats the view
from up on the side of the mountain all hollow,” presently remarked
Andy.
“Why, yes,” said his companion, as he swerved just a trifle to follow
the contour of the water lying below; “because in this way we can see
the shore line all around.”
“And now, as we’re at the head of the lake, which way shall we return,
Frank?”
“Let’s veer off and cover a few miles of country beyond the mountain,”
the pilot ventured. “It’s wild up here and as a rule none of us know
much about it. Look at the woods, how thick they are, with only a
little opening here and there. I remember once how we came up here to
camp and the snakes were so bad we soon tired of it.”
“That’s so!” Andy exploded. “I hate snakes worse than I do skunks.
Looky here! if that ain’t our old friend Baldy, skating around to
take a squint at the new-fangled bird that’s invaded his exclusive
territory. Hey! won’t he be surprised, though, when we land up there
on Old Thunder Top Friday? Perhaps the old chap may tackle us; we’d
better take a gun along to be prepared.”
But Frank laughed at the idea.
“That would hardly be according to the rules of the race. If we want to
make fast time we don’t want to load ourselves down with all sorts of
traps, Andy.”
“I guess you’re on,” the other remarked. “But say, this country is
pretty rough, all right. I was just thinking what a splendid thing an
aeroplane must be in wartimes. A fellow could soar over the enemy and
learn everything that was going on. I can see a big change in our ways
of fighting when the next war comes along.”
“Oh!”
“What ails you, Frank?” demanded Andy, as he heard his companion give
vent to this exclamation, for naturally his nerves were all on edge
with excitement.
“I saw something just then, that’s all. When you look down don’t bend
over and give the fact away that you’re looking. We’re just passing
over a little opening in the dense woods. I remember that it is close
to that old dilapidated cabin we found when camping up here. Used to be
occupied by charcoal burners once on a time. They had a scrap and one
man was badly hurt, while the other disappeared.”
“Sure, I remember,” said Andy; “but what of that, Frank?”
“Look in that glade and you’ll get a glimpse of two fellows hiding.
They dropped down in the grass at sight of the airship and are watching
us,” said Frank, quickly.
“I declare that’s so; but who are they, and why do you act that way?”
asked the puzzled Andy.
“Now we’ve passed over. Don’t turn your head back for anything,
because, Andy, that was Jules and his pal, the robbers Chief Waller has
been hunting high and low for so long!”