The Flying Girl and Her Chum. Baum Lyman Frank

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СКАЧАТЬ you realize, Sybil," asked Orissa in a grave tone, as she took her second sandwich, "that we must pass the night in this wiggly, insecure boat?"

      "What's insecure about it?" demanded Sybil.

      "It won't stand much of a sea, I fear. This attachment to the Aircraft was intended for pleasant weather."

      "All right; the weather's delightful. Those long, gentle rolls will merely rock us to sleep. And – Oh, Ris! – we'll have rolls for breakfast."

      "Do be serious, Syb! Suppose a storm catches us before morning?"

      "Then please wake me up. Where do you suppose we are, anyhow?"

      "I've no idea," answered Orissa, soberly. "We must have traveled a couple of hundred miles, but it wasn't in a straight line, by any means. Let's see. Perhaps a hundred miles on our first course – over Sealskin Island and nearly south – then forty or fifty miles north – "

      "Oh, no; west."

      "Yes; so it was. Then twenty-odd miles south, ten miles or so east, a couple or three miles west again, and then – and then – "

      "Dear me! Don't bother your head with it, Orissa. We zigzagged like a drunken man. The only fact we can positively nail is that we were getting farther away from home – or our friends, rather – every minute. That's a bad thing, come to think of it. They'll never know where to search for us."

      "True," responded Orissa. "But I am sure they will search, and search diligently, so we must manage to keep afloat until they find us. What shall we do now, Sybil?"

      "Sleep," was the prompt reply. "If we lift this seat off – it seems to be removable – I think there is room enough for us both to cuddle down in the bottom of the boat."

      "Oh, Sybil!" This from Orissa, rather reproachfully.

      "Well, I can't imagine anything more sensible to do," asserted her chum, with a yawn. "These air-rides not only encourage hunger, but sleep. Did you cork that bottle of water? I want another drink."

      "I – I think we'd better economize on the water," suggested Orissa, "at least until morning, when we can find out if there's any more in the chest."

      "All right. Help me bail out this overflow and then we'll cuddle down."

      "Steve said there were two blankets in the chest," said Orissa, presently, when the bottom of the boat was dry. "I'll search for them."

      She found the blankets easily, by feeling through the contents of the chest. Offering no further objection to Sybil's plan, she prepared their bed for the night. Neither of these girls had ever "roughed it" to any extent, but in spite of the peril of their situation and the liability of unforeseen dangers overtaking them, they were resourceful enough and courageous enough to face the conditions with a degree of intrepid interest. Afloat on an unknown part of the broad Pacific, with merely a tiny aluminum boat for protection, with final escape from death uncertain and chances of rescue remote, these two carefully nurtured young girls, who had enjoyed loving protection all their lives, were so little influenced by fear that they actually exchanged pleasantries as they spread their blankets and rolled themselves in the coverings for the night.

      "The lack of a pillow bothers me most," remarked Sybil. "I think I shall rest my head on one of those cans of baked beans."

      "I advise you not to; you might eat them in your sleep," was Orissa's comment.

      "May I rest my head upon you, chummie dear?"

      "You may not. Try the engine."

      "That's hard. And there are enough wheels in my head already, without pounding my ear with them. Suggest something else."

      "Your own elbow, then."

      "Thanks, dear. Where's that slab of aluminum that used to be a seat?"

      It was a happy thought and furnished them both with a headrest. The seat was not an ideal pillow, but it answered the purpose because there was nothing better.

      CHAPTER VI

      CASTAWAYS

      "Well, I declare!" exclaimed Orissa, sitting up.

      After a moment Sybil said, sleepily:

      "Go ahead and declare it, Ris. Only, if we're drowned, please break the news to me gently!"

      "How strange!" muttered Orissa, still staring.

      Sybil stirred, threw off the blanket and also rose to a sitting position.

      "If it's a secret," she began, "then – Oh, goodness me!"

      During the night the boat with its great overhead planes had gently floated into a little bay, where the water was peaceful as a millpond. Two points of black rock projected on either side of them, outlining the bay. Between these points appeared an island – a mass of tumbled rocks guiltless of greenery. There was a broad strip of clean, smooth sand on the shore, barely covering the slaty ledge, but back of that the jumble of rocks began, forming irregular hillocks, and beyond these hillocks, which extended for some distance inland, there seemed to be a great dip in the landscape – or rockscape – far back of which arose a low mountain formed of the same unlovely material as all else.

      "It's an island!" gasped Sybil, rubbing her eyes to make sure they were working properly. "Now, see here, Cap'n Ris, I want it understood right now which one of us is to be Robinson Crusoe and which the Man Friday. Seems to me, I being the passenger and you the charioteer, the prestige is on my side; so I claim the Crusoe part. I can't grow whiskers, and I'm not likely to find a parrot to perch on my shoulder, but I'll promise to enact the part as well as circumstances will permit."

      "I can't see a sign of life," announced Orissa, regretfully. "There isn't even a bird hovering over the place."

      "Lizards and snakes among the rocks, though, I'll bet," responded Sybil, with a grimace. "All these rocky Pacific islands are snaky, they say. I wonder if I can learn to charm 'em. You don't object to my being Crusoe, do you?"

      Orissa sighed; then she turned to her cheery comrade with a smile.

      "Not at all," said she. "But I'll be Columbus, the Discoverer, for I've discovered a desert island while you were peacefully dreaming."

      "There's no desert about your island," stated Sybil. "A desert would be a relief. What you've discovered, Miss Ris Columbus – or what's discovered us, rather – is a rock heap."

      "Desert or not, it's deserted, all right," maintained Orissa.

      "And you may not have discovered it, after all," said Sybil, musingly examining the place. "These seas have been pretty well explored, I guess, and although no nation would particularly care to pin a flag to this bunch of rocks, the maps may indicate it clearly."

      "Ah, if we only had a map!" cried Orissa eagerly.

      "What good would it do us?" asked Sybil. "It couldn't help us to find ourselves, for we don't know what especial dot on the map we've arrived at. With Muggins' Complete Atlas in hand, and a geography teacher thrown in, we wouldn't be able to pick out this island from the ones that litter these seas."

      "That is, unfortunately, quite true," sighed Orissa; "and anyhow it's not worth an argument because we have no map. But we must be up and doing, Sybil. If СКАЧАТЬ