by H. L. Sayler
CHAPTER II
A CURIOUS STRANGER LEARNS THE OBJECT OF THE _Gitchie Manitou_
The announced flight of the young aviators Monday afternoon was delayeduntil the hour grew so late that this feature of the program waspostponed until the next day. It was the old story of over-enthusiasticamateur assistants who persisted in giving unsolicited aid when theairship was being taken from the aerodrome. A young man who thought themachine had to be carried instead of being wheeled onto the startingfield sought to lift the rear truss by means of the lateral rudder. Indoing this, he punctured the oiled silk plane. After a futile attempt tosew the rent, Norman was forced to ask the police to clear theirenclosure. When Mr. Zept, one of the committeemen, called and learned ofthe situation, he advised a postponement of the flight until the nextafternoon.
"My son tells me," remarked Mr. Zept as he was about to leave theaerodrome, "that he had the pleasure of meeting you boys this morning.I'm glad of it. I hope you'll be friends."
"He's a fine young man," answered Norman. "You ought to be proud of him."
"All parents should be proud of their children," answered Mr. Zept with asober face. "I've tried to give Paul a good education and I hope I'vedone the best for him. But I have never seen much of him and, in a way,"he added with a smile, "I hardly know him as well as I do you boys."
"He's certainly enthusiastic," remarked Roy, "and--and impulsive," headded, hesitatingly.
"He really has some peculiar ideas," commented Mr. Zept. "But I supposethey're natural. I had peculiar ideas myself."
"Yes," suggested Norman, "he makes a great deal out of things that areold stories to us. If we didn't live here and know the West as well as wedo, I suppose we would have the same romantic ideas."
Mr. Zept was just making his departure, but at this he paused.
"What do you mean?" he asked suddenly and with some concern in his voice.
"Oh, you know he's determined to see the real wilderness," laughed Roy."He wants to get a taste of the life the story books describe. I told himit might not be such an appetizing meal but I imagine he's set on it."
"So I believe," answered Mr. Zept, "although it isn't what I had plannedfor him.
"By the way," he added quickly, "you young men know how little there isin indulging this longing for wilderness adventure. I hope if you have achance you won't fail to impress upon Paul the facts as we know them. Iwant him to live at home now, with his mother and me. I'm afraid he'sbeen too long away from us."
That evening the two young men could not resist the temptation to visitthe downtown district where the hotels were crowded with visitors and thecity was resplendent with unusual activity. Norman left Roy with somefriends at the King George Hotel and went home at an early hour. When Roycalled at Norman's house the next morning, on his way to the StampedeGrounds, he spoke of some new information he had picked up the nightbefore.
"I found out last night," he began at once, "that everything isn't assunshiny in the Zept home as it might be. Our new friend, the Count, Iwas told by some friends, got a pretty early start in the fast life ofParis. Mr. Zept wants Paul to stay at home a while, as I get it, to makesome changes in him if he can."
"What do you mean?" asked Norman. "But I can guess it--it's in his face.And it isn't cigarettes either."
"Right," answered Roy. "We call it booze out here, but in the young man'scircle in Paris I reckon it wouldn't be worse than wine. Anyway, theysay, young as he is, that's one of his pleasures. He doesn't look to meas if drinking had ever bothered him much but, from what I hear, he'scome to the point where his father thinks he's got to stop it if it'sever going to be stopped. He's only been in town a few days and they sayhe rides like a States' Indian. But this hasn't taken all his time. He'salready in with the fast set here and you know, in a pinch there's peoplein Calgary who can give a pretty good imitation of high life in greatcities."
"I can guess the rest," said Norman. "His father brought him out here toput him on a ranch. When he found that his son hadn't this idea, itrather upset certain plans."
"And he'd like us to put in a few knocks but I reckon that'll be somejob. As far as I can see, it's young fellows like Zept who turn thesehardships into glories. I've heard of kids like him who are really athome where there's no trail and whose idea of luxury is a canoe and ablanket and a piece of pork."
"Well," concluded Norman, "if I didn't have the aeroplane bug just now,I'd like to have a chance at the ponies and horses on one of Mr. Zept'sbig ranches. A canoe and a blanket are all right, but on a cold eveningwhen the snow's spitting I don't think they've got anything on a chuckwagon and a good tent."
On the way to the show grounds, Roy went into further details of thegossip he had heard concerning young Zept's escapades, not only in Parisbut in the south of France.
"One thing's sure," commented Norman at last, "wild as he may be about alot of things, he ain't crazy about airships. That's saying somethingthese days."
This remark was made because the Count, while showing a polite interestin the _Gitchie Manitou_, had not bubbled over with exuberance. The boysfelt somewhat chagrined over this lack of enthusiasm until they recalledthat to young Zept an airship was an old story, the young man havingwitnessed many flights by the most improved French monoplanes.
On this, the second day of the Stampede, about five o'clock Norman made arespectable if not very exciting flight. He was somewhat nervous and wasglad when the exhibition was over, and had no sooner landed than hedetermined on the following day to attempt a more ambitious demonstration.On Wednesday and Thursday he added some thrills to his evening flight,making on the latter evening a landing in the shape of a corkscrew spiralthat got for him special notice in the newspapers the next morning. Italso got for him an admonition from his father, when the latter read thisstory, that a repetition of it would result in a breaking of his contractwith the Stampede authorities.
"All right, father," conceded the young aviator, "but that ain't a markerto the possibilities of the machine. I haven't put over the real stuntyet."
"And what's that?" demanded his parent.
"I had planned, on the last day of the show, to make an ascent as high asone reservoir of gas would take me--and that means so high that youcouldn't see me--and then make a volplane back to the ground withoutusing the engine."
"Are you going to try that?" demanded his father sternly.
The boy looked at him and laughed.
"Probably not--now," he remarked, "although the show'd be over then."
"Try it," snapped his father, "and that'll be the last thing you'll haveto do with your _Gitchie whatever-you-call-it_."
The next evening, which concluded the big day of the Stampede, twentythousand people attended the long afternoon's program. When the aeroplaneappeared for its fourth flight, an army of people surrounded the startingfield. Warned by his father, Norman made a less dangerous exhibit, butone that was on the whole more interesting to the eager spectators.Having given illustrations of many of the tricks of show aviators,including the roll and the banking of racing machines on short circularcourses, he made a journey out over the hills until the aeroplane waslost to sight. The enthusiasm that greeted his reappearance and theapproach of the machine like a bird through the blue haze of the endlessprairies, stirred the crowd as the more dangerous maneuvers had not.Before reaching the inclosure, the monoplane climbed about four thousandfeet into the air and then volplaned gracefully toward one of the largeexhibition buildings just in the edge of the grounds. When it seemed asif Norman was about to smash the _Gitchie Manitou_ against the biggreen-roofed building, even Roy started and held his breath. Then therewas a quick spring upwards and, with the last momentum of the glidingmonoplane, it lifted over the structure and settled upon the dust of therace track inclosure like a wide-winged bird.
When, escorted by ample police, the aeroplane had been wheeled into theaerodrome, the two boys immediately closed the doors and the officersdispersed the onlookers. It was late and there was not much tr
ouble indoing this. When only a few persons were left in the vicinity, the doorswere thrown open again and the car was trundled out to receive itsafter-flight examination. Norman, yet wearing his cap and jacket, hadclimbed into the cockpit to overhaul the rudder wires and engine valves;Roy was inspecting the body of the car, when the attention of both boyswas attracted by a cheery salutation from a stranger.
"Good evening, young gentlemen," exclaimed a man who was unmistakablyfrom the States. "I've been trying to have a look at your machine butI've only just now succeeded in evading the police. I hope I'm not in theway?"
Since there were few persons about, the boys smiled.
"Glad to see you," answered Roy. "Glad to see anyone if he comes alone.It's only the mob that bothers us."
The stranger smiled and lifted his hat in renewed greeting.
"I've been watching your flight to-day," he went on, directing his remarkto Norman, "and I judge it must require some nerve."
"It requires a good machine and some little experience," responded Normandeprecatingly.
The man was a well-set-up, ruddy complexioned individual somewhat beyondmiddle age. His clothes might have been made anywhere in the East andyet, in spite of certain smart touches in them, the man wore a negligeeshirt, a flowing black necktie and an abundance of hair that indicated anacquaintance with the freer costumes and manners of the West. A largediamond ring on his weatherworn and sinewy finger suggested that thisjewelry was probably only worn on occasions. He had a good-naturedcountenance which unquestionably could easily show decision and force ofcharacter.
"Come in," remarked Roy, good-humoredly. "Sorry I can't offer you achair."
"Seriously," retorted the stranger, "I've been watching you with morethan mere curiosity. I have a special desire to know something about yourairship if you can give me a few minutes."
Without questioning the man further, the two boys, glad enough of theopportunity, at once began an explanation of the craft that had in thelast few days demonstrated its practicability. The stranger followed themintently, interrupting them now and then with questions, and showed asurprising interest in the elaborate description given him by the youngaviators. Considering its origin, the aeroplane was a more than ingeniouspiece of work. In general it followed the stream lines of the modernFrench monoplane. Its distinguishing variation was a somewhat wider bulgein the forward part of its birdlike body.
While in most monoplanes this framework, to which the planes areattached, is made only wide enough to accommodate a narrow cockpit andthe compact engine located in its apex, in this car the cockpit wasalmost double in size that of the average machine. So wide was it thattwo passengers might sit side by side. The flying planes of the car andits five-foot body gave the aeroplane an entire width of thirty-sevenfeet.
The planes were attached to the body proper by rigid flanges, reinforcedby wires running from tip to tip of the planes, passing directly over thebody, and not elevated on bracing chandelles. These wires were taut andmade a part of the planes, much like reinforcing ribs. Beneath the planesthree heavy wires ran from their forward tips to the bottom of the car.
There were no flexing devices to manipulate the rear edges of the planes,but on the rigid frames of each plane was a lateral rudder manipulated byone lever standing in the forward part of the cockpit.
The stream lines of the body tapered birdlike to the horizontal ruddertwenty feet in the rear. The truss work of the body was covered withdiagonally crossing strips of veneer, so that, as a whole, with the rigidplanes, the monoplane had a substantial appearance. This frame, coveredwith waterproof canvas, made the body of the car impervious to rain.
The two rudders at the rear of the body resembled in all ways thesteering devices of the best modern air vehicles. A difference was foundat once, however, in the fact that the rudders were heavily waterproofedand in that the steering wires passed the pilot's cockpit through theprotected body of the car. There was nothing new in either the big singlepropeller fixed to the front of the body, nor in the Gnome engine thatafforded motive power.
"We didn't make the engine," explained Norman. "It represents all themoney Moulton and I have ever saved, some we haven't saved but expect tosave, and all that we could borrow of our fathers. It's eighty horsepower, came all the way from France, and if anything happens to it, we'rebankrupt for life."
The stranger smiled with a curious sparkle in his eyes, rubbed his chin,and without direct answer, remarked:
"It doesn't seem an ordinary machine--looks more substantial than most of'em."
Roy had secured a box, and placing it alongside the car he motioned theirguest to mount.
"There is a difference," he began at once with new enthusiasm. "Thismachine is made for wind and weather. If any airship can make its waythrough blizzards, the _Gitchie Manitou_ can. If it doesn't, it's a rankfailure."
The guest gave a look at each boy, as if this was what he suspected.
"Look!" went on Roy. Springing into the cockpit, the two boys caught thesides of the cockpit framework and in a moment had drawn above theirheads four light but strong frames of wood. When these met above theirheads, they formed a curved and tightly-jointed canopy. The four frameswere filled with small panes of glasslike mica. Within the canopy theinmates were as well protected from the elements as if they had beenunder a roof.
While the stranger's face flushed and his eyes grew wider, the boysunsnapped the frames and they fell back into place, disappearing withinthe sides of the cockpit.
"That isn't all," exclaimed Norman, and he pointed to two small, dark,metal boxes just in the rear of the two seats. "Look," he went on, as healso pointed to a small dynamo mounted just in the rear of the circularengine. "As long as the car's moving, these two little car heaters willnot only keep us from getting frost bites but, in a pinch, we can cook on'em."
"And here," added Roy, as he tapped a chestlike object on which the seatswere mounted, "is where we get the stuff to do the trick. We can put gasenough in there to carry us three hundred miles. Back here," he went on,pointing to a nest of skeleton shelves adjoining the rear of the cockpit,"we can carry extra supplies of oil, gas, and food to carry us fivehundred miles, if we ever get that far from home."
In what was little less than complete enthusiasm, the curious guestsprang speechless from the box, and took a few quick steps as if toarrange his thoughts.
"Don't think that's all," exclaimed the hardly less enthusiastic Normanas he vaulted from the novel pilot-cage. "I guess you see what we'redriving at and why we called our machine _Gitchie Manitou_. You knowthat's Cree for--"
"I know," broke in the stranger; "Injun for 'Storm God'!"
"I thought it was 'God of the Winds,'" exclaimed Roy. "But names don'tcount. If they did, we should have called it 'The Snow King,' becausethat's where it ought to shine. See these landing wheels?" he urged."Well, they're only put on for use around here. If this machine ever getswhere it belongs it's going to have runners like a sled, where thesewheels are. And I've got a theory that these are all it needs to make atrip where dogs and sleds can't travel."
The two boys, eager to continue their half-told description, paused for amoment. The stranger, his hat in his hand, seemed to be drinking in thestory he had just heard, with an interest so profound that the puzzledboys could not grasp it.
"Young men," said the man at last, "I'm mighty glad to hear all this. Iwish you'd let me do some talking myself for a few moments. Will you letme tell you something about myself? It won't take long. I hope," and hemotioned the two boys to the seats on the box, "when I'm through, it willinterest you." That it did, the next chapter will amply prove.
