The Boy Aviators in Record Flight; Or, The Rival Aeroplane

by John Henry Goldfrap

  CHAPTER XII.

  ATTACKED BY COWBOYS.

  The Smoky City, with its inky smoke canopy, bluff-bordered rivers anddistant heights crowned with beautiful residences, was soon left farbehind. But for a long time the boys flew high above veritable gridironsof railroad yards crowded with busy freight trains and puffing yardlocomotives. Every one of the engines gave them a screeching greeting asthey soared steadily along far above them.

  But they were not alone in the air. The Slade machine was close behindthem, with his assistant at the wheel. McArthur's dirigible, too, wasoff a few minutes after the boys took the air. The three racers flewonward with no perceptible difference in the distances between them.Each seemed to be grimly holding its own. At Steubenville, Ohio, theboys struck the Ohio river and flew above its course as far as Ashland,where they crossed the border line of the state into Kentucky.

  In forty-eight hours more, having allowed ample time for rests andengine adjustments, they arrived at Nashville, Tenn., having passed theborder line of the state a few hours before. For several hours they hadnot seen the other racers, but at Nashville they learned that Slade'saeroplane had arrived four hours ahead of them, having therefore gainedone hour in actual time.

  The gain had probably occurred while the boys were delayed at a smalltown near the Kentucky border fitting new spark plugs, those they usedhaving become badly carbonized by their hard service. They spent littletime in the beautiful capital of Tennessee on the banks of the historicCumberland river. The crowds pestered them to such an extent that theywere anxious to hurry on as soon as possible. An examination of theengine, however, showed that it was in need of considerable adjustment,and old Mr. Joyce was compelled to spend several hours over it. Thegyroscopic balancer likewise was in need of having its bearings attendedto. Slade seemed to have better luck, for his party left Nashville twohours ahead of the Boy Aviators. The start of the _Despatch_ craft wasclosely followed by that of McArthur's dirigible, carrying a large gassupply. The extra weight had been compensated for by ripping out a largepart of the cabin and cutting down every ounce carried, so far as it waspossible to do so without imperiling the ship.

  However, when they finally did take the air from the meadow on the banksof the Cumberland in which they had camped, the boys had thesatisfaction of knowing that their craft had had a thorough overhauling.The auto, also, had had new tires fitted and its engine overhauled.

  The journey across the rolling plains of Arkansas, skirting the Ozarksto the south, on across the vast levels of Oklahoma, fertile with cropsand dotted with thrifty homesteads and small frontier towns, was madewithout incident. One night the boys found themselves camped on thebanks of the Canadian river, not very far from the town of Bravo, in thenorthwest of the great Panhandle of Texas. For two days, now, they hadnot seen either of their competitors, and had no idea of where either ofthem were, though at infrequent opportunities he had in the wild countrythrough which they were now traveling, Billy had tried several times toascertain by telegraph some word of their whereabouts.

  The heat was, as Billy said, enough to fry the horn-toads that crawledabout on the vast level that stretched, quivering in the torrid sunrays, as far as the eye could reach on every side of the boys'camping-place. Fortunately they had selected a site beneath an oldsycamore tree, which gave them some scanty shade. High against theblazing sky a few turkey-buzzards wheeled, doubtless watching the campswith speculative eyes to ascertain if they were all alive.

  But on this latter point there could have existed no doubt in the mindsof any human onlookers. The clink-clink of hammers and drills, as theboys worked over their engine with old Mr. Joyce superintending, whileBilly Barnes and Lathrop were actively employed loading the auto with acamping kit, gave the camp an appearance of great life and bustle. Asfor Bart Witherbee, he was at his favorite occupation of cooking. He hadshot some young jack-rabbits a few hours before, and was now composing astew.

  "I didn't know jack-rabbits were good to eat," exclaimed Billy, when theminer had brought them into camp.

  "Young ones is," explained the plainsman, "but keep away from theelderly jack-rabbits."

  Suddenly Billy, who had looked from his task for the fiftieth time toremark that it was hot, noticed quite a cloud of dust swirling towardthe adventurers across the prairie.

  "Gee, here comes a whirlwind!" he exclaimed, pointing. The otherslooked, too.

  "Maybe it's a cyclone," suggested Harry.

  Old Witherbee placed his hand over his eyebrows and peered long andearnestly at the rapidly approaching cloud of yellow dust.

  "Whatever is it?" asked Frank.

  "Somethin' that I'm afeard is goin' ter make it mighty uncomfortable forus," exclaimed Witherbee, with a tone of anxiety in his voice.

  "Mighty uncomfortable, how? Will it blow the auto away?" asked Billy.

  "No, youngster, but it may blow us up; that cloud yonder is a bunch ofskylarking cowboys, and they're coming right for us."

  "Will they kill us?" asked Billy anxiously.

  "No, I don't think it'll be as bad as that; though they git mighty onerysometimes. Don't you boys give 'em no back talk, and maybe we'll get outall right."

  The rapid advance of the approaching cowboys could now be heard. Theirponies' hoofs could also be seen as they flashed in and out under thecloud of dust.

  Suddenly there was a terrific volley of yells, and, as the cavalcadedrew rein, the cloud rolled away and the boys found they were surroundedby forty or fifty wild-looking fellows, all yelling and shouting. Someof them had revolvers and were firing them in the air. The din wasterrific.

  "Throw up yer hands, yer Scanderhovian bunch of tenderfeet," shouted theleader, a big man on a buckskin pony, whose legs were incased, despitethe intense heat, in a huge, hairy pair of bearskin "chaps."

  The boys all elevated their hands, and old man Joyce and Bart Witherbeehastened to follow their example.

  "Where's this yar sky schooner yer goin' a-sailin' around in, scaringour cattle and driving the critters plumb crazy?" he demanded angrily.

  "If you mean our aeroplane, there it is," said Frank, indicating themachine.

  "Wall, there was two of them went over here yisterday, and all the beefcritters on the Bar X range is plum stampeded all over the per-arie.We're goin' ter stop this, an' we might as well begin right now. Comeon, boys, shoot the blame thing full o' holes and put a few in therchoo-choo wagin while yer at it."

  The situation was critical indeed.

  The boys saw no way of saving their aeroplane, and to add to theirtroubles they had been informed that their two rivals were in front ofthem.

  Frank alone retained his presence of mind. He saw that only by a trickcould they regain their safety from the desperate men into whose powerthey had fallen.

  "Did you ever see an aeroplane before?" he asked of the leader.

  "No, I never did," replied the other; "why?"

  "Well, you seem to have a pretty dry part of the country out here, and Iguess a little rain would do it no harm."

  "That's right, stranger, you never spoke a truer word; but what inthunder has that got to do with yer blamed scaryplane, or whatever youcall it, scaring all our beef critters away?"

  "I am very sorry for your misfortune, Mr.--Mr.----"

  "Rattlesnake Ike is my name, with no blame 'Mister' on it, youngtenderfoot," growled the other.

  "Well, Rattlesnake Ike, we can make rain."

  "What?" roared the whole assemblage.

  "We can make rain," calmly repeated the boy, "with that aeroplane."

  "Wall, now, stranger, how kin yer do that--tell us," demanded the leaderof the cowboys, leaning forward on the bow of his saddle, deeplyinterested.

  "Well, you've heard that explosions near the sky will concentrate themoisture, thus causing it to condense in a copious rainfall," declaimedFrank pompously, putting in all the long words he could think of.

  "Hump--wall," dubiously remarked the cowboy,
scratching his head, "Idunno as I hev, but you seem ter have it all down pat."

  "That's what we've been doing with our aeroplane," went on Frank,"making rain. Haven't we?" he turned to Witherbee questioningly. Theminer at once saw what he was driving at.

  "Sure," said the old miner. "Why, pardners, down in Arkansaw they hadforgotten what rain looked like till we came along. We made it pour forthree days."

  "And that scaryplane does it?"

  "Well, we go up in it and then fire bombs from this rain-gun."

  Frank indicated the searchlight as he spoke.

  "Wall, I'd sure like ter see that," said the leader. "How about it,boys?"

  "Let's see what they kin do; but if yer don't make it rain, strangers,we'll string you all up ter that sycamore tree," decided one of thegroup.

  They all chorused assent, and Frank and Harry at once got into themachine.

  "Hand me some rain bombs, Billy," said Frank.

  Billy Barnes reached into the tonneau and produced some blue flares.These he handed to Frank.

  "Take care they don't go off, Frank," he said solemnly.

  "Yes; you recollect them twenty fellers as was killed in St. Looey,"warned old Witherbee solemnly.

  "Say, strangers, are them there things dangerous?" asked the cowboyleader.

  "Well, there's enough dynamite in them to blow that river there cleaninto the next county," rejoined Frank, "but don't be scared, we won'tdrop them."

  "Get into the auto when we are well up," Frank whispered rapidly toBilly, while the cowboys exchanged awed glances.

  "Now, gentlemen," he went on aloud, "get your umbrellas ready, forpretty soon there's going to be some big rain."

  The aeroplane started up while the cowboys yelled and whooped. It hadreached a height of about two hundred feet, and was circling above theirheads, when Harry suddenly lighted one of the fizzing blue flares; atthe same instant Billy, followed by the others, leaped into the auto.

  "Hey, stop that!" yelled the cowboy leader, but at the same moment hebroke off with a yell of terror.

  "Look out for the dynamite bomb!" yelled Harry, as he dropped theflaming blue flare over the side of the aeroplane, fairly on top of thegang of cowboys.

  "Ride for your lives, boys!" shouted the leader of the cowboys, as theflaming light dropped, "she's goin' ter bust."

  They didn't need any urging, but fled with wild cries.

  By the time the cattlemen realized they had been tricked, the auto wasaway on the prairie, speeding on toward the west in a cloud of dust,while the aeroplane was far out of range.