The Flying Girl and Her Chum/Chapter 14

Sybil clapped her hands gleefully and looked at Orissa in triumph.

"The rubber is mine!" she cried. "You now owe me sixteen boxes of chocolates, nine of caramels and twelve of mixed bonbons—enough to stock a candy store. Tell you what I'll do, Commodore Columbus; I'll pit my desert island and my man Friday against your fleet of galleys and the favor of Queen Isabella, and it shall be the best three out of five games. Are you game, my dear Discoverer?"

Orissa laughed.

"You ought to give me odds, Crusoe, for you are the more skillful checker player," she replied. "But I won't play any more to-day. This heat is dreadfully oppressive and from the looks of the sky I'm afraid a storm is brewing."

"What? A rain storm?" asked Sybil, jumping up to go outside the tent and examine the sky.

"Rain, hail, thunder, lightning and tornadoes; anything is likely to follow a storm in this latitude," declared Orissa, following her. "I think, Sybil, we ought to make all as safe and secure as possible, in case of emergency, while we have the time."

"What can we do?" asked Sybil. "I won't mind the storm very much, if it doesn't have lightning. That's the only thing I'm afraid of."

Orissa examined the sky critically.

"I predict high winds," she presently said, "and high winds might endanger our property. Let us get to the beach, first, and see what may be done to protect the Aircraft."

They found the flying-machine fairly well protected by the walls of the ravine in which it lay, but as the big upper plane offered a tempting surface to the wind Orissa set to work and removed it, a task that consumed two full hours. Then she wired the framework to a big rock, for additional security, and carrying the canvas from the plane between them, the girls returned to their tent.

"Will our house stand much of a wind?" asked Sybil.

"It is rather exposed, on this bluff," replied Orissa, doubtfully. "I think it will be wise for us to pile more rocks upon the edges. The wire will hold, I'm sure, for it is nickel-steel, and if we close the ends of the tents securely we may escape damage."

"All right; I'm glad to have something to do," cried Sybil, picking up a rock. "We'll build a regular parapet, if you say so."

This was exactly what they did. In spite of the oppressive heat the two girls worked faithfully piling the rocks around the tent, until they had raised a parapet nearly half its height. They were inspired to take this precaution by the glowering aspect of the sky, which grew more threatening as the afternoon waned.

Finally Orissa wiped the perspiration from her brow and exclaimed: "That'll do, I'm sure, Syb. And now I'm ready for dinner. What's to eat?"

Sybil made a grimace.

"Bananas and jelly," she replied. "Could you conceive a more horrible combination?"

"Meat all gone?"

"We've part of a baked crab; that's all."

"And the lettuce. I shall have crab salad, with bananas for dessert."

"A salad without lemon or vinegar is the limit," declared Sybil. "I shall stick to bananas and jelly."

Their appetites were still good and Orissa really enjoyed her salad, which she seasoned with salt which they had obtained by evaporating seawater. The bananas were getting to be a trifle irksome to the palate, but as food they were nourishing and satisfying. Neither of the castaways grumbled much at the lack of ordinary food, being grateful at heart that they were able to escape starvation.

The storm burst upon them just after dark and its violence increased hour by hour. There was little rain, and no lightning at all, but the wind held high revel and fluttered the canvas of the tent so powerfully that the girls, huddled anxiously in bed, feared the frail shelter would be torn to shreds.

But the plane-cloth used by Stephen Kane was wonderfully strong and had been sized with a composition that prevented the wind from penetrating it. Therefore it resisted the gale nobly, and after a time the fears of the two girls subsided to such a degree that they dozed at times and toward morning, when the wind subsided, sank into deep sleep. The hooting of the owls no longer had power to keep them awake, and on this night the owls were less in evidence than usual, perhaps deterred from leaving their nests by the storm.

Weather changes are abrupt in the semi-tropics. The morning dawned cool and delightful and the sun shone brilliantly. There was a slight breeze remaining, but not more than enough to flutter Orissa's locks as she unfastened the flap of the tent and walked out upon the bluff to discover if the Aircraft was still safe.

It lay at the bottom of the ravine, in plain sight from where she stood, and seemed quite undisturbed. Orissa turned her eyes toward the distant island, let them sweep the tumbling waves of the ocean and finally allowed them to rest upon the bay at the east, where they had first landed. Then she uttered an involuntary cry that echoed shrilly among the crags.

A ship lay stranded upon the shelving beach—fully half its length upon dry land!

The cry aroused Sybil, who came running from the tent rubbing her eyes and with an anxious face.

"What's up, Ris?" she demanded.

Orissa pointed a trembling finger across the rock-strewn plain to the bay, and Sybil looked and gave a gasp of delight.

"Oh, Orissa, we're saved—we're saved!" she murmured. Then, sinking upon the sand, she covered her face with her hands and began to cry.

But the air-maid was too interested to weep; she was looking hard at the boat.

"Isn't it Madeline Dentry's yacht?" she asked. "Yes; I'm sure it is. Then they've been searching for us and the storm has wrecked them. Sybil, your father and Steve may be on that ship, alive or—or"

Sybil sprang up.

"Do you see anyone?" she asked eagerly.

"No; it's too far away, and the sun interferes. I'll get the glasses."

She was quite composed now and her quiet demeanor did much to restore Sybil's self-possession. Orissa brought the binoculars, looked through them for a time and then handed the glasses to her chum.

"Not a soul in sight, that I can see," she remarked. "Try it yourself."

Sybil had no better luck.

"Can they all be drowned?" she inquired in horrified tones.

"I think not. They may have abandoned the wreck, during the storm, or they may be hidden from us by the side of the boat, which lies keeled over in the opposite direction from us."

"Can't we go there, Orissa, and find out?"

"Yes, dear; at once. The tide is out, and although there is quite a sea left from last night's hurricane I think we can manage the trip, by way of the sands, with perfect safety."

Each tore a couple of bananas from the bunch and then they ran down the incline to the beach. Knowing every turn in the coast and every difficult place, they were able to scorn the waves that occasionally swept over their feet, as if longing to draw them into their moist embraces.