CHAPTER XVIII.
A NIGHT ALARM.
Quatty, quite recovered now from his first terror, and almost aggressivein his newly-found courage, sat by Frank's side directing him as well ashe could for, as he explained, he would not be able to get his bearingstill they had passed the cypress belt and were above the Evergladesthemselves. Every now and again, however, he would give the youngcaptain a steering direction.
"A bit mo' eas' by sout'," or "Hold a bit to de sout' sout' eas',massa."
"What are we making, Frank, do you estimate?" inquired Harry, as theship rushed through the air.
"About ten miles," rejoined the other, "the wind is dead against us."
"Not as fast as a subway express, but doing pretty well," was Harry'scomment.
The young engineer was, however, most of the time as engrossed with hisengines as was Frank with the steering apparatus. From time to time heran his hand carefully over them to see if the condenser was doing itscooling work properly. The lubricating gear also received his carefulattention. A heated bearing would have meant a serious accident if notdisaster and Harry was too old an aeronaut despite his youthful yearsnot to pay the closest attention to one of the most important featuresof a gasolene engine.
"It seems to me that we had better make camp for the night in thecypress belt if possible and make an early start over the 'gladesthemselves to-morrow," said Frank, as the dark line of trees grewgradually nearer and the boys saw that they formed a thick belt in someplaces several miles across.
"Yes, if we find a landing-place," rejoined Harry.
"How about that, Quatty?" questioned Frank, "are there any smooth spotsclear of trees in the swamp?"
"Oh, berry plenty, massa," replied the negro. "I fin' you nice lillycampin' place we get near dem."
Like a big hawk about to pounce the _Golden Eagle II_ was hovering aboutan hour before sundown above the tops of the dark cypresses in search ofa suitable spot to swoop down. After Frank had manoeuvred her in wideningcircles through the air for perhaps half an hour they at last were abovea large clearing a mile or more in diameter and which was quite clear oftrees.
"Injun make um long time ago, maybe three, four thousan' years,"explained Quatty in answer to the boys' questions.
"Three or four hundred, more likely," laughed Frank.
"Or three or four," added Harry.
"Berry well, massas," said Quatty, highly offended, "I 'spose ah don'know nuffin' but what an ig'nant sabage knows."
To make a landing Frank swung the aeroplane in a long descending arctill he was a few feet above the tops of the outermost of the trees thatfringed the clearing then he raised the planes slightly and the _GoldenEagle II_ glided to the earth in a long, slow sweep. The engines had ofcourse been cut out as the descent began and she settled as easily as abird alighting.
With mosquito netting brought for the purpose the sides of thepilot-house were at once enclosed, for although it was still daylight,the tiny pests that make life miserable on the edges of the 'glades hadbegun to appear in armies. Strange to say, in the 'glades themselvesthere are hardly any mosquitoes, but on its borders they swarm in greatnumbers.
Quatty built a smudge of green wood and leaves before he set aboutgetting supper and in this way the worst of the visitation wasalleviated.
The boys watched with some interest while Quatty built his fire. He hadlived so long with the Seminoles that he built it in the way the Indianshave adopted from time immemorial. First he made a big ring of drysticks and twigs, the largest on the outside and the small dry ones inthe center. He lighted it in the center with his old flint and steel andthen having made a rack out of a stick of green wood, placed across twoforked upright ones, he pushed the larger timbers from the outside tothe center as occasion required.
After a hearty meal of stewed preserved meat made into a delectable stewwith dessicated vegetables and canned corn, followed by stewedevaporated fruit washed down by boiling tea, the boys and Quatty retiredto the mosquito-barred pilot-house of the _Golden Eagle II_, whereQuatty lighted his pipe "jes' ter plague dem mosquitoes outside," heexplained, and the boys talked over future plans. After a short time,however, weariness after the energetic day they had put in completelyovercame them and they stretched out on the transoms. In a few minutessleep closed their eyes and the only sound that disturbed the deepsilence in the cypress belt was the loud snoring of Quatty and therhythmical croaking of the frogs and tree lizards in the swamp.
Toward midnight Frank could not judge how long he had been asleep, itseemed to him five minutes, as a matter of fact it was as many hours,when he was awakened with a start to hear a stealthy tread a few feetaway from the aeroplane.
"Who's there?" he shouted.
The minute his voice rang out the footsteps retreated as stealthily asthey had approached.
In this lonely untraveled spot who could it be?
The boy awakened his brother and Quatty and cautioning them to silencewhispered them his alarming intelligence. Each boy grabbed his rifle andprepared to defend the _Golden Eagle II_ with all their power. As forthat arrant coward Quatty, all his recent bravado quite gone, he couldonly tremble and whimper in terror.
"What do you suppose it is, Frank?" whispered Harry.
"I wish I knew," replied the other.
"Do you think it's Indians?" was Harry's next question.
"It might be," replied Frank, "but I'm afraid that it's worse thanthat."
"What do you mean?" inquired Harry in the same low tone of voice.
"That the men we are in pursuit of have got some inkling of our purposeand are even now lurking about here to wreck the aeroplane and perhapskill us."
The prospect was certainly an alarming one. If Frank's idea was correctthey were powerless. It was unlikely that their enemies would be lessthan half a dozen and perhaps more. Brave as they were the two boysrealized that they could do little against such overwhelming numbers andQuatty was worse than useless.
"Here he comes again," cried Frank in a tense whisper as after severalminutes of silence the boys sat gripping their rifles.
Sure enough the slow, heavy tread was again advancing. It was too darkin the shadows of the mighty cypress trees to see anything and the boyscould only judge of the enemy's whereabouts by the sound. Afteradvancing quite close to the aeroplane the steps ceased and the boyscould distinctly hear a low, steady breathing.
"I can't stand this any longer," whispered Frank. "I'm going to fire."
Aiming directly at the sound Frank pulled the trigger. As the reportcrashed among the trees a roar of pain filled the air and a crashingsound as if a body had fallen was heard.
"What on earth is it?" gasped Harry, as the roar was followed by whinesand yells of pain and a sound as if a big carcass was lashing about onthe ground.
It was Quatty who solved the mystery.
"Why, dat's a panfer," he cried, "ah knowed all along 'twern't nuffin'but dat."
"Get the lantern," ordered Frank, curtly, "and we'll see what it is."
Frank shoots a panther.]
"Yes, massa," sputtered the negro awed by the boy's sharp tone. He litthe lamp in silence and the boys sallied out. It was as Quatty had said.On the ground near their camp-fire lay the animal still writhing. Frankput it out of its agony with a shot through the head and then the boysbent over their prize, examining admiringly its tawny skin and greatshapely head.
"See, massa, Quatty was right. Nuffin' to get scared of. Nuffin' but anole panfer."
"Did you think it was 'nuffin' but a panfer' ten minutes ago?" askedFrank.
"Wall, no, massa," replied the darky, somewhat abashed; "but ah 'spectedit right along. Yes, sah, ah mus' say ah 'spected 'twan't nuffin' butdat."
By this time the sky to the east across the Everglades was beginning togrow gray and as none of the party felt any more inclination to sleep,Quatty was set to work to skin the panther; after which Frank and Harrysauntered into the woods with
the shotguns. So good was their successthat they managed to bag three brace of doves which broiled with stripsof bacon formed a very agreeable addition to the oatmeal, pilot-breadand coffee on which they had intended making their morning meal.
Even before they had despatched their breakfast the sun had risen andilluminated the vast brown levels of the 'glades, which now lay directlybefore them. The sky was specked with kites and vultures attracted bythe carcass of the panther.
"Dey won't even leab' any pickins ob him," said Quatty, motioning up atthe soaring carrion birds, "'specs dey finks we pretty good folks to gibdem brakfus' as well as ourselves."
Breakfast despatched and the engine fed with fresh lubricant and thegasolene and condenser tanks filled with additional fuel and water theyoung adventurers were ready to take up what they felt was to be themost important stage of their journey thus far.
The machine was hauled back from the part of the glade where it hadalighted to the extreme far side so as to give it all the room possibleto rise in. There being no one to turn the propellers the boys utilizedtheir self-starting apparatus.
This consisted of a handle attached to a cogged wheel which operated achain which in turn revolved another cogged wheel connected to bothshafts. This of course acted in exactly the same way as if some one hadtwisted the propellers, but it required more elbow grease. After acouple of revolutions the engine started up and with a quick all-seeingglance fore and aft Frank threw in the clutch. The _Golden Eagle II_started as easily as she had the day before and took the air after aboutfifty yards' run.
A serious accident, however, was narrowly averted as she cleared thetree-tops. Quatty, arrogant in the fact that he no longer feared theriding in an aeroplane, was standing carelessly on the inclined floor asthe craft rose. A sudden jerk as she bucked an uprising current almostthrew him from his feet and he made a grab for the first thing he couldcatch hold of, which was a starboard rudder wire. Under the tug of thestumbling negro's hand the rudder was of course pulled over and the shipgave a dizzy swoop.
Harry at the engine was thrown right across the pilot-house and Frankthought for a minute that they had gone. With a swift glance he saw whathad happened. Reaching back he caught the luckless Quatty a blow underthe jaw that laid him flat and effectually loosened his hold on thetiller-wire. Swift as thought the young captain skilfully righted herbut not before her port wing-tip had grazed the topmost foliage of oneof the loftier cypresses.
When they were once more safe Frank spoke:
"In future, Quatty," he said, "you will lie flat on the floor when weare going up."
The Boy Aviators on Secret Service; Or, Working with Wireless Page 18
