LUCK, PALS, AND PROVIDENCE
Scarcely had Jack seated himself beside the slim girl in the shadows
away from the campfire when she whispered:
"I hoped you'd come. I have something tremendously important to show
you. First you must play for these people, for they love it."
At that she clapped her hands and at the same time gave a sharp
exclamation. Some native word, thought Jack. He was startled by this
sudden turn of affairs.
The natives were on their feet in an instant. Three brown warriors,
doubtless misunderstanding the call, seized their spears.
Like figures done in bronze, with the firelight playing on their dark
faces, these three stood there, silent and alert, ready for action, as
the girl said a few words to them in their own language. Then the men
relaxed and a low murmur ran round the campfire.
"Play now!" the girl commanded, turning to Jack.
A louder murmur came from the natives as they settled back in their
places and Jack tuned his violin.
Deciding that some simple tunes would suit these people best, the boy
played "Turkey in the Straw." Pleased by their dancing eyes, he did the
"Arkansas Traveler," then "Deep in the Heart of Texas."
When he swung into "Old Man River," the natives seemed to sense the
meaning of the song, for their faces were somber and sad. But now some
one was singing the words.
He listened carefully. It was the girl who sang.
"Sing it all," he whispered. He started once more at the beginning and
she sang with him to the end.
After that he played on and on, wondering, Where did this girl learn
that song? She had said, "These people." Were they not her people? It
was mighty strange.
When the fire had burned low and some of the native children were asleep
at their mothers' sides, Jack put his violin away. Then, as if he were
in church and had preached a good sermon, the older members of the group
came forward for a solemn handshake.
After a few words to the natives, the girl turned to Jack. "I'll show
you a new way back to your camp," she said in a quiet voice.
A moment later, without a light, she was leading him through the inky
blackness of a jungle trail.
"There are only two of us, my pal and I," Jack said to the girl after a
time. "We may get into a tight spot any time!"
"Oh, you are in a tight spot right now!"
In the meantime, some distance to the south, things were happening on
the dark waters of night. Catching the drone of airplane motors and
recognizing them as those used in U. S. fighter planes, Ted on his raft
had become greatly excited. That's Kentucky and my other pals, he
thought. They're out looking for me. How can I signal to them?
A flare. The thought came to him at once. In his emergency outfit were
matches in a sealed tin. With trembling fingers he opened the can.
But what could he use for a torch? He thought of his gony. Its feathers
would burn. But no. He couldn't do that. His parachute? Yes, it would
burn. But what a waste. If other things failed, he'd use it. But
meanwhile he'd tie his shirt to one of the paddles and light it. He
wadded it tightly around the paddle blade so it would burn for some
time. He lighted it, and moved it about in the air.
"It makes so little light. They'll never see it," he despaired.
But they did see it. Soon Kentucky came zooming down while the others
circled above him.
"Boy! Am I glad to see you!" Ted put out a hand to Kentucky when the
plane was down and he had paddled to it.
"That makes two of us!" Kentucky gripped his hand excitedly.
"I'll be with the old _Black Bee_ after all when we make that big push!"
Ted exulted.
"You won't be in anything if you don't get busy and climb up here!"
Kentucky laughed.
"Wait. I'll have to take care of my gony." Ted reached down.
"Hey! Ouch! Quit it!" he exclaimed. "Ungrateful creature! I should have
used you for a torch."
"What is it?" Kentucky asked in surprise.
"Just a gony--an albatross," said Ted. "He lit on my head and now he
bites me for the tenth time. Give me a light."
Kentucky held a light on it while Ted cut the strap that held the huge
bird. Then he tossed the gony into the sea. "I was keeping it for
emergency rations," he laughed.
Five minutes later he was in the plane, and they were roaring away.
"Just one more incident in the great war," Ted said. "Some get rescued
and some don't."
"It's all a matter of luck," said Kentucky.
"Providence, luck, and pals," Ted added.
"There's more work of the same kind to be done," said Kentucky. "I think
I've got Jack and Stew located on one of those three islands."
"Great stuff! How did you do it?"
"Stew's got some kind of radio. Not very strong, but I got him. He told
me in a sort of code that they were on this end of the biggest island."
"That's swell!" Ted exclaimed. "Going after them is my job. Jack's from
my home town."
"Say! That's keen!" said Kentucky. They flew on.
At the same time, on the island, with the aid of the girl, Jack was
making a startling discovery. She walked with surprising speed over the
jungle trail. Only now and then did she take his hand for an instant to
whisper, "Over a log here" or "Up a low ledge now."
"I didn't want the natives to know," she murmured low. "There might have
been trouble if they saw what you are going to see. I didn't want a
fight--not now."
"Know what?" Jack wanted to ask, but did not. What a queer girl this
was! Her skin was dark, her nose was rather broad, and her lips seemed
thick, yet she was surely not like the others.
"Been raised by some missionary," he told himself. He knew well enough
that there were such girls. He had seen some of them in the Solomons.
Some were nurses. He thought again of the nurse's uniform hidden at the
foot of a huge palm. Had the girl been a native nurse?
"Up now," she whispered, gripping his hand.
They climbed straight up a rocky ledge. At the crest she pushed him down
to a place beside her.
"Look down," she whispered.
He looked, then stared. Almost directly beneath them, surprisingly close
and all lit up by a near-by campfire, was the mystery plane. Seated
around the fire were not two men, but five. Three were small, the others
large. Just then the two large men stood up. One was tall and rather
thin, the other short and stout.
"Not the same men!" Jack whispered in astonishment.
"No, they're not," she agreed. "The three little men are Japs."
"Japs!" Jack could feel prickles at the back of his neck. "What does it
mean?"
"Danger!" came in a low whisper.