The Flying Girl and Her Chum/Chapter 8

While daylight lasted Orissa was busy examining the injury to the Aircraft and attempting a few preliminary repairs. Her long mechanical experience in the workshop with her brother enabled her to determine accurately what was required to put the machine into proper working order, and she thought she could accomplish the task.

"I can't see that it matters, anyhow," said Sybil, watching her chum from a seat upon the sands. "We can't fly, and the boat is our only refuge. Even that we must manage to row or sail in some way."

"All very true," returned Orissa, "but I can see no object in neglecting these repairs when I am able to make them. I can take off the bent elevator rods and straighten them, after which the elevator and rudder may assist us in sailing, as we can oppose them to the wind. The engine control is a more serious matter, for the wheel connection was broken off short. But I shall take a rod from a support and fit it in place and then replace the support with our steel wire. That is a sort of makeshift and will require time and nice adjustment, but I can do it, all right. The tools Steve supplied were quite complete; there's even a box marked 'soldering outfit.'"

"Is there?" asked Sybil, eagerly. "See if any matches are in it, Ris."

"Matches?"

"Yes. The lack of matches has disturbed me considerably."

"Why, Syb?"

"We can't cook without them."

"Cook! why, I never thought of such a thing," said Orissa, truly astonished. "What is there to cook, in this place?"

"Fish," answered Sybil.

"And what would you use for fuel?"

"Fuel?"

"Yes; what is there to make a fire with?"

"Never mind that. Just see about the matches."

Orissa opened the soldering case and found an alcohol torch, a flask of alcohol, solder, acid and a box of matches.

"Good!" cried Sybil, joyfully. "Don't you dare do any wasteful soldering, Orissa Kane. Save every drop of that alcohol to cook with."

Orissa laughed.

"I have nothing to solder, just yet," said she. "And you've nothing to fry."

"I soon shall have, though," was the confident reply. "We've assured ourselves of one thing, Miss Columbus, and that is that we can sustain life, in case of necessity, on bananas and spring water. So I propose we have one good, luxuriant square meal this evening by way of variety. We've done nothing but lunch for two whole days and I want something hot."

"I'm willing, Sybil. Can you catch a fish?"

"If there's one in our neighborhood. I'll try it while you are tinkering."

Among the tools was a ball of stout cord, and for hook Sybil cut a short length of wire and bent it into shape with a pair of nippers, filing a sharp point to it. Then she opened a can of chipped beef and secured a couple of slices for bait. Going to the point of rock she found a place on the ocean side where a projecting shelf afforded her a seat above fairly deep water, and here she dropped her line.

Mr. Cumberford was an enthusiastic fisherman and while Sybil had never cared particularly for the sport she had accompanied her father on many a piscatorial expedition.

A tug. The girl hauled in, hand over hand, and found she had captured a large crab, which dropped from the hook to the rocks and with prodigious speed made for the water and disappeared.

"Good riddance, old ugly!" laughed Sybil.

Scarcely had she thrown her line when another tug came. A second crab floundered upon the rocks, but fell upon his back and lay struggling to turn himself.

Sybil ruefully contemplated the empty hook.

"I can't feed all our good beef to horrid crabs," she exclaimed; "but the beef seems a good bait and I'll try again."

Another crab. Orissa came clambering over the rocks to her friend's side. The sun was sinking.

"What luck, Syb?"

"Only three crabs. I'm afraid it's too shallow here for fish."

Orissa leaned over the still struggling crab—the only one that had not escaped.

"Why, we pay big money in Los Angeles for these things," said she. "They're delicious eating; but they have to be boiled, I think, and then cracked and newburged or creamed."

"Keep an eye on the rascal, then," said Sybil. "Can't he be eaten just boiled?"

"Yes; with mayonnaise."

"There's none handy. Let the high-brow go, and we'll fish for something that doesn't require royal condiments."

But Orissa weighted the crab with a heavy stone, to hold him down. Then she sat beside Sybil and watched her.

"I'm afraid our fish dinner must be postponed," began Miss Cumberford, sorrowfully; but at that moment the line jerked so fiercely that she would have been pulled from her seat had not Orissa made a grab and rescued her. Then they both clung to the line, managing to draw it in by degrees until there leaped from the water a great silvery fish which promptly dove again, exhibiting a strength that nearly won for him his freedom.

"Hold fast!" gasped Sybil, exerting all her strength. "We mustn't let him escape."

The fish, a twelve-pound rockcod, made a desperate fight; but unfortunately for him he had swallowed the entire hook and so his conquest was certain if the girls could hold on to the line. At last he lay flopping upon the rocks, and seeing he was unable to disgorge the hook, they dragged him to the beach, where Orissa shut her eyes and beheaded him with a hatchet from the tool chest.

In the outfit of the chest, which had evidently been intended by Steve and Mr. Cumberford for regular use in connection with the Hydro-Aircraft, they had found two aluminum plates, as well as knives and forks and spoons. Sybil cut two generous slices from the big fish and laid them upon one of the metal plates. Then they opened a can of pork and beans and secured a lump of fat to use in frying. Orissa lighted the alcohol torch and Sybil arranged some loose rocks so that they would support the plate suspended above the flame of the torch. The intense heat melted the fat and the fish was soon fried to a lovely brown. They ate it with biscuits and washed it down with ginger ale, confiding the while to one another that never had they eaten a meal so delicious.

They let the torch flicker during the repast, for night had fallen, but when from motives of economy Orissa had extinguished the flame they found a dim light suffused from a myriad of stars. Later a slender crescent moon arose, so they were able to distinguish near-by objects, even with the shadow of the bleak mountain behind them.

They had arranged their blankets in the boat and were sitting upon them, talking together in the starlight, when suddenly an unearthly cry smote their ears, followed by an answering shriek—then another, and another—until the whole island seemed echoing with a thousand terrifying whoops.

"Ku-whoo-woo-oo-oo! Ku-whoo! Ku-whoo-oo!"

The two girls clung together tremblingly as the great chorus burst upon them; but after a moment Sybil pushed her companion away with a nervous little laugh.

"Owls!" she exclaimed.

"Oh!" said Orissa, relieved as the truth dawned upon her. "I—I thought it was savages."

"So it is. I challenge any beings to yell more savagely than those fearful hoot owls. Something must have happened to them, Ris, for they've never made a mutter all day long."

"Because they have been asleep," answered Orissa. They had to speak loudly to be heard above the turmoil of shrieks, although the owls seemed mainly congregated upon the distant mountain. The rocks everywhere were full of them, however, and hoots and answering hoots resounded from every part of the island. It was fairly deafening, as well as annoying and uncanny. They waited in vain for the noise to subside.

"There must be thousands of them," observed Sybil. "What's the row about, do you suppose!"

"Perhaps it's their nature to, Syb. I wonder why we didn't hear the pests last night. When we wakened this morning all was silent as the grave."

"I think we floated into the bay about daylight, when all the big-eyes had ducked into their holes. Do you know, Ris, the owls must be responsible for the absence of all other life on the island? They dote on snakes and lizards and beetles and such, and they'd rob the nests of any other birds, who couldn't protect themselves in the nighttime. So I suppose they've either eaten up all the other creatures or scared them to death."

"That must be so. But, oh, Sybil! if this racket keeps up every night how are we going to be able to sleep?"

"Ah. Just inquire, Cap'n, and if you find out, let me know," replied Sybil, yawning. "I got up so early this morning that I'm dead for sleep this blessed minute."

"Lie down; I'll keep watch."

"Thank you. This lullaby is too entrancing to miss." The air grew cool presently, as it often does at night in the semi-tropics, and the two girls crouched down and covered themselves to their ears with the blankets. That deadened the pandemonium somewhat and as the owls showed no tendency to abate their shrieks, an hour or two of resigned submission to the inevitable resulted in drowsiness, and finally in sleep. As Sybil said next morning, no one would have believed that mortal girl could have slumbered under the affliction of such ear-splitting yells; but sleep they did, and when they wakened at daybreak profound silence reigned.