Loe raamatut: «The Sky Pilot's Great Chase; Or, Jack Ralston's Dead Stick Landing», lehekülg 8

XIX
PERK GETS A SHOCK

An hour later and both of them were sound asleep, having comfortable let-down cots in the sheltering cabin that were a wonderful improvement over the way they used to double-up in the cramped cockpit of the ship they handled before this fine amphibian was placed in their charge by Uncle Sam.

The night moved on and for some hours nothing occurred to annoy them. Perk had become addicted to waking about once so often and as a rule he used to sit up and yawn as he took a look around.

It may have been an hour or so after midnight when, on thus arousing, he caught a sound that caused him to omit the customary yawn, though he certainly sat up with a jerk and appeared to be listening.

Almost mechanically too, his right hand groped for something alongside his cot and it was his gun he presently pulled up. The sounds he had heard once more broke out – savage, ominous sounds they were too, undoubtedly proceeding from one or more wild beasts aroused to a fighting spirit.

“Huh! bobcats, I’d say, if you asked me, neighbor, an’ hoppin’ mad in the bargain. Must be a pair o’ ’em an’ they ain’t mates either. Guess now two ol’ rivals must a met head-on along some trail an’ each is a sassin’ t’ other, darin’ him to knock a chip off’n his shoulder an’ see what he gets. Gosh amighty! but wouldn’t I jest like to lamp that ’ere duel the wust kind, but I knows aheap better’n to set out an’ spy on ’em. Just as like as not they’d forget all their mad agin’ each other an’ set on me for keeps. Thar they go agin, licketty-split, snarlin’, screechin’ and scrappin’ for all that’s out. I’m tellin’ the wide world the hair’s sure flyin’ in big patches while that caterwaulin’ keeps grindin’ out.”

It kept Perk sitting there fully ten minutes before finally dying out nor did he ever know whether one or both quarreling creatures had been extinguished, like the famous cats of Kilkenny, each of which thought “there was one cat too many.”

“Some circus, b’lieve me,” Perk told himself, with many a chuckle, for he had been vastly amused and entertained by that aggregation of furious sounds, “but it’s okay with me so long’s they scrap ’mong themselves an’ leave us alone. I ain’t lost no kitty as I know of, an’ there’s some more sleep I c’n make use of if they put the brakes on their whoopin’ things up.”

With that he snuggled down once more and forgot all his troubles for the balance of the night. If there were any further ancient feuds still to be settled among the old-time inhabitants of that section, Perk was unaware of the slaughter for he did not open his eyes until the first peep of dawn announced the coming of another day.

Jack still slept, it would seem, for he lay there like a mummy while Perk proceeded to crawl out and get into his clothes with the full intention of slipping ashore, reviving the fire and starting to prepare breakfast. Apparently his enormous supper of the previous evening must have digested and that awful vacuum he detested so much was already calling for help.

He chanced to have a sore toe that gave him a painful twitch every little while and not feeling disposed to tramp around collecting fuel until he had remedied this physical distress, he sat down to pull off his footgear and fasten a little wad of cotton between the offending member and its neighbor.

Once while thus busily engaged Perk imagined he caught a slight thud, as of something striking a root or fallen branch. He raised his head to listen, with those ravenous timber wolves flashing into his mind but then everything seemed nice and quiet again so that believing he had only imagined he heard suspicious sounds he once more bent down to complete his little task.

Then, without hardly any warning, there suddenly burst forth the most diabolical sound Perk had ever heard in all his life. Something similar to the braying of army mules over in France, he thought.

Perk probably felt his blood run cold, for that frightful racket was not more than twenty feet distant. Wildly he stared, expecting to see some savage beast, perhaps with the stripes of a real jungle tiger, come leaping from behind the adjacent rock heaps and make directly for him, unarmed as he was.

Regaining the use of his limbs Perk turned tail and made for the friendly left wing of the ship, taking huge jumps and anticipating that some supple body was apt to land on his back despite his haste.

Jack was there in full sight and worse luck, he did not even seem to have thought to snatch up the handy gun when that frightful roar echoed and re-echoed up and down hill in the valley of the silver lake.

“G – et th’ gun, quick – tigers, lions, an’ nobody knows what not – on the rampage to beat the band, too!”

Jack stared and then seemed to fairly double-up as though to him there might be something worth laughing at in the hurried retreat of his pal.

“He’s more scared than you can be, Perk!” he managed to cry out. “See him making off, will you, taking steps that are nearly as long as your own. Watch him shake those new horns of his, as if to tell you he’d be willing to fight it out only his head pieces are so new like, and soft!”

“W-hy – what in tarnation thunder is that big monster, Jack?” gasped the astonished Perk, staring with all his might after the towering beast that was passing out of sight around a vast mound of tumbledown rocks.

“Only a bull moose, partner – he must have heard you make some sound and reckoned it was an old rival of his, which was what made him give that roar. I never ran across a moose up to now, but I know what they can do. If it had been in the Fall of the year, when his horns, just rutting lately, were firm and hard, you’d have had him jumping you mighty quick.”

“Wow! he had me jumpin’ even as it was,” confessed honest Perk, deigning now to break into a silly grin since the supposed danger was past and the coast clear. “He’s some jim dandy I’d say an’ mebbe I wouldn’t like to knock a bull moose over. Used to hear about ’em when I was a kid up in Maine and over the line in Canada too (but never met one o’ the breed before). Bet you that ol’ boy c’n run a blue streak too, once he lets go. Well, since there ain’t any tigers at large nor yet a catamount lyin’ in ambush, guess I orter go ashore again an’ hurry up my fire. Breakfast ready in ten minutes, ’member, Jack ol’ hoss.”

While working over his fire and starting breakfast Perk must have been sketching in his mind the nerve racking encounter so lately in the spot-light, for once he stopped doing what he was engaged in, to look seriously up at the blue sky where a few floating white clouds had taken on a faint pink blush, showing that the rising sun was not far below the horizon though not scheduled to appear to any one in that deep valley for several hours yet – then he might have been heard holding communion with himself and saying:

“I kinder guess moose steak wouldn’t taste so bad but then what’s the use o’ cryin’ over spilt milk? Mister Moose has skipped out an’ then Jack wouldn’t let me shoot, even if the ol’ critter hung around lookin’ for trouble. Didn’t he say the close season was on with all game that you c’n eat and that the Mounties might get me if I took chances and nailed that big boy? Oh well! I’m all to the good and no tellin’ what he might have done to me if we got mixed up in a sure enough scrap.”

Breakfast was almost as enjoyable as supper had been – not just wholly so for no one is ever quite so hard pressed by hunger in the early morning as seems to be the case toward close of day when all cares are tossed aside.

Jack did not appear to be in any hurry to leave the scene of their night’s bivouac for he puttered around, doing numerous small chores that, according to Perk’s mind, could have just as well been postponed to another time without the sky falling.

“Ain’t she ready to take the air, Boss?” he finally demanded when he could stand it no longer, whereupon Jack looked up smilingly and nodded.

“Everything’s as fine as silk, brother, and since it’s getting along, perhaps we’d better be on our way.”

“Huh! that’s the line o’ patter I’m longin’ to hear from you, partner,” Perk broke out in positive relief. “I’m a bit leery ’bout puttin’ in a second night alongside this lake. Might have a twenty-foot anaconda drop down on us while we sat outside an’ smoked. Now don’t tell me they ain’t no sech animal hereabouts, ’cause I know that as well as you do but just the same I’m glad we’re goin’ to climb outen here pronto.”

XX
THE FUR-TRADING STATION

Possibly Perk may have been a little troubled in his mind lest they run up against difficulties when trying to climb out of that tiny valley walled with those titanic mountains massed all around.

His faith in the ability of his comrade to surmount ordinary difficulties and aviation perplexities buoyed him up and he failed to register any outward signs of undue anxiety.

His confidence was well placed for aided by the excellent working of the crate’s slotted wings and his knowledge concerning their control, Jack was enabled to start boring up toward the sky almost as soon as the amphibian quitted the placid bosom of the crystal lake.

A few circles and they had risen so that it was possible to see beyond the peaks by which they were surrounded.

“That’s the boy – beautifully done, I’ll tell the gapin’ world – an’ what a good feelin’ it gives a flyer to know he’s on the wing once more after bein’ knocked down by a dead-stick swattin’ him. Glad now I snapped off them two pictur’s jest when we was leavin’ the lake under us.”

“Same here partner,” chimed in Jack, “for I’ll always have a kindly feeling for that little cup of water set in that hole among the mountains like it might be a precious diamond in a platinum ring.”

“Huh! I’d like to said that same thing, buddy,” Perk told his mate, “on’y it ain’t in my blood to spout poetry you see but a feller c’n feel it in his heart, mebbe, even when he jest can’t say it.”

“Which is as true as anything can be,” vowed Jack who was well aware of the limitations of his chum and could appreciate his good points, even if in some ways Perk seemed a bit dumb.

They were soon on their course as laid out by the head pilot and making into the north at fair speed. Perk amused himself for some little time in carrying out his accustomed duties, which were numerous and so essential they must not be neglected. Later on Jack, realizing that Perk was no longer moving around with his customary bustle, managed to steal a glance in his direction to discover that the other was snuggled down and seemed to be gazing at something he held in his hand, as though wrestling with a weighty problem.

Jack immediately understood, for the object at which Perk stared so earnestly happened to be the small photograph he had received from the youngster whom he, Perk, had carried across that queer little bridge made of two ironing-boards when the tenement was burning in Salt Lake City.

He would turn it over so as to read the name written in a female hand on the back – “Adrian, at six years,” and then quickly reverse the card as if he hoped to instinctively pronounce the last part of the lad’s name that seemed to elude his memory with such disgusting pertinacity.

But apparently even that idea failed to work, for Jack heard no triumphant whoop break from his companion’s lips as he felt certain would be the case should he hit what he was after. The old saying, all signs fail in dry weather, was applicable in Perk’s case, it seemed. Still, such are the vagaries of the human memory that he was likely to suddenly utter the word he wanted just as he opened his eyes after a nap. It often comes about that way as many persons can testify.

Jack shook his head and grinned, muttering to himself meanwhile:

“Queer how poor old Perk does get so twisted up with names and he’s so dogged about it he never will give in till he gets what he’s after. Always makes me think of that ad. I used to see in the magazines about some kind of toilet soap. A baby in his little tub stretching out a hand to lay hold of a cake of soap and underneath the words: ‘he’ll never be happy till he gets it.’ That’s my pal Perk to a fraction – wish I could give him the high sign but since I never heard the name it’s beyond my ken. But anyway it gives him something to play with, like a baby’s rattle and how he does hang on to it.”

So Perk kept on staring goggle-eyed at that picture, just as if it mattered as much as three cents whether he ever again heard of the boy or his mother, both of whom Jack had somehow made up his mind, were evidently engaged in a search for some missing party who was especially dear to them but whose identity was now, and probably always would be, a complete mystery to the pair who had befriended them on that night of the fire.

“After all,” Perk finally said, and Jack could easily catch every word, thanks to the useful earphone apparatus they had on, “we did have a fine time o’ it – you made the neatest dead-stick landin’ I ever seen put through – we had a glorious supper an’ a nice night in camp as I might say – glimpsed a’ ol’ galliwampus o’ a big bull-moose on the gallop – it’d jest be complete if on’y I had a decent head on me so’s to grab that name – Adrian – Adrian what – shucks?”

Jack did not say a single word lest he start the other to worrying again. It might seem such a trifling matter to any outsider but to Perk it meant that he was growing old – that his memory, never any too good, had taken to going back on him worse than ever.

The further they worked into the north the more uninhabited did the wild region seem to become. Earlier in their flight they were able to occasionally discover an isolated log-cabin marking the lonely home of some venturesome white trapper and when these isolated shelters were still occupied by their owners there would be a column of wood smoke rising above the adjacent timber that made things seem a bit homelike, but for the last hour Perk had not picked up the slightest clue to human existence in all that vast wilderness, though he plied his glasses most industriously in hopes of breaking the spell.

“Must be drawing close to the fur-trading post, I’d reckon, eh partner?” Jack suddenly demanded at which the other nodded vigorously in the affirmative and followed this up by saying emphatically:

“Just what we are ol’ hoss. I’ve seen a number o’ things to tell me it’s close by here – f’r instance, take a peek at them three cones standin’ out there in a triangle off to the west – many a time I’ve sat an’ smoked an’ watched the clouds coverin’ the lowest peak while on a log in front o’ Old Jimmy McGregor’s log cabin store. Jest a trifle more to the east, partner, an’ chances are we’ll be settin’ eyes on Frazer’s Post inside ten minutes at the most.”

That was certainly cheery information for Jack to hear from his companion who was familiar with much of that country from having ridden over the mountain trails when spending several years in the service of the Northwest Mounted Police force.

Perk seemed to be more and more amazed by the fact of their striking the far distant point as though drawn by some magnet, for a minute later he broke loose again.

“There, I ’member that little canyon where the trail runs through – got my first caribou right on that spot – a herd was passin’ an’ I came on the bunch as they turned a corner. What makes me sit up an’ take notice is how we’ve come all the way up here, hundreds an’ hundreds o’ miles, straight as a die an’ inside o’ forty-eight hours, I guess I might call it, when in them days it’d taken me a month anyway to cover the same distance on hossback. They fetches the supplies to the post here by way o’ the river an’ then by carry. Huh! we’re livin’ in a great age, strikes me, partner. Now, get ready to take a look-in at the first fur-tradin’ station you ever did see ’cause it’s jest beyond that little rise with the timber hidin’ the fort. Hot ziggetty dog! I never did think I’d be up here in this country again.”

Jack also felt a little thrill of expectancy as they sped onward for in another minute or so they should be passing directly over the place Perk had pointed out with such assurance. The trip had thus far been as successful as any one could hope for and their success in finding the needle in a haystack, as Perk had once called their mission, was to be considered a feather in the cap of the pilot.

Then all of a sudden he heard Perk give utterance to a loud cry as of dismay, coupled with astonishment.

“Hey! what’s all this mean? Look at that outhouse smoulderin’ like it’s been burned down inside o’ last night! An’ that little bunch o’ fellers standin’ there like they meant to skedaddle at hearin’ us comin’ with sech a racket! Jack, I tell you somethin’s sure happened around these diggin’s! Been some sorter o’ deviltry afoot an’ ten to one that same crazy Hawk’s the guy that’s broke loose! Mebbe now we jest got here in time to break into the game.”

XXI
OLD JIMMY, THE FACTOR

It hardly needed these vigorous words from the startled Perk to tell Jack something unusual was the matter at the trading post. Just as his comrade had declared, some sort of minor building was smouldering, smoke ascending in lazy spirals and occasionally a tiny burst of flame telling where a fresh bit of unburned wood must have fallen to the heat still hanging over the ruins.

Then too, the actions of the parties standing in a clump near the general store and fur repository added to his belief for they did look very much disturbed as if almost tempted to make a break for the shelter of the nearby forest.

That was easily understood, for up to the present time it must have been a rare event for an airplane to come circling over that remote trading post – indeed, perhaps never before had such a thrilling event occurred.

“Jack, you’re meanin’ to drop down, ain’t you?” sang out the worried Perk.

“I reckon to,” came the steady answer, “when you’ve shown me the open field you said lay close by – that was even enough for a fairly decent landing.”

“Why, there it is right now, partner – over on the right, this side o’ the tall timber yonder,” and Perk thrust out a hand so as to make his meaning quite clear.

“I see it Perk, boy, and must take your word for it we’ll have a chance to make contact without a spill. We’ve got to find out what’s been going on around here lately, that’s about all there is to it.” “I c’n jest wager it’s some dirty work o’ that timber wolf, Hawk,” asserted the other vigorously, “an’ if he’s so much as hurt a hair o’ Ol’ Jimmy McGregor’s gray head it’s goin’ to cost him dear, an’ that’s no lie either!”

Jack said nothing further, just paid strict attention to his business. He was scanning the rather contracted field so as to figure where he should drop down, with a bit of open space ahead for a short run after hitting the earth.

He had made several circles around the place before coasting earthward as his severe training as a pilot had taught him to do ere making the last dip. In another half minute the wheels had struck and the amphibian was slowing up in its forward thrust.

Both of them hastily detached the ’phones from their heads for they could see that some of the men, mostly trappers, Jack imagined from their rough dress, were commencing to push toward the spot where the visitor from the clouds lay almost motionless, having withstood such shaking-up as followed the rough landing.

The first thing that Jack noticed was the fact that there was an eager look on several of the leather-like faces of the advancing group. He rather imagined they had been cherishing a wild hope the airship might disgorge several figures in the well-known uniforms of the Mounties and that their recent rough treatment at the hands of the outlaws would soon be avenged.

“Hi! what’s been goin’ on ’round the post here, boys?” shouted Perk as the small group drew near. “Hello! Birdseye Baker, glad to see you’re still on deck – ain’t forgot Gabe Perkiser, have you, Oldtimer?”

The tall, stoop-shouldered man with the long hair whom Perk addressed stared hard and then came closer.

“If it ain’t Perk hisself!” he exclaimed, to immediately add: “Back on the old job agin, be ye – but why ain’t ye in uniform – an’ whar be the rest o’ the Mounties – we need ’em right smart I’m tellin’ ye, boy!”

“Who’s been handlin’ you rough, brother?” asked Perk sympathetically.

“Cap. Hawk an’ his gang. Ain’t been gone more’n three hours – stole all my whole season’s ketch o’ pelts an’ robbed Old Jimmy o’ his money an’ a heap o’ stores ’sides. I kinder feel like I’m meanin’ to skip out o’ this blasted kentry if so be they jest can’t nab that wild critter, ’er else make him turn up his toes. What ails the Mounties, I wanter know, when they slip up on a job like this? Don’t seem like the days when ye was workin’ in the outfit, Gabe Perkiser.”

“Hold out a little longer, Birdseye, ol’ hoss!” exclaimed Perk jerking off goggles and helmet, “mebbe it’ll all come out okay. They’s things on the programme that’re goin’ to cut a big figger in this game. Just you wait an’ see ’fore you cuss the Mounties black an’ blue.”

Then, as if noting the absence of Old Jimmy the factor, Perk continued, looking anxiously around:

“But where’s Jimmy right now, I want to know? ’Taint like him to be stickin’ in his coop yonder when strangers come to town!”

“He’s on his back, Perk – got into ruction with them bushrangers an’ they tore him up somethin’ scandalous. Nuthin’ real dangerous, get me, but he sure needs the attention o’ a doc. I’m told they’s sech a man up to the fort name o’ Hamilton but we ain’t no way o’ gettin’ word to him in a hurry.”

“That’s okay, ol’ hoss,” said Perk quickly, “my boss here, Mister John Jacob Astorbilt is aimin’ to strike Fort Laney, hopin’ to get some big game shootin’ thereabouts. We c’n fetch the sawbones back with us if so be he’s still around.”

“Good boy, Perk,” said the old fur-trapper enthusiastically, “but come in an’ see the old man – he’ll be right glad to meet up with ye again – often talked ’bout ye when I kim back from my trap line in the Spring.”

Perk looked as happy as a schoolboy carrying home her books for the first time – showing that after all he was not quite so hard-boiled as he wished to appear and that a little flattery could bring the blushes to his well tanned weather-stained cheeks.

“Let’s go, partner,” he said motioning to Jack who had been listening to all this talk with increasing interest, since it had more or less to do with the lawless actions of the desperado whom he had been dispatched to bring back to the States so as to be returned to Leavenworth penitentiary, with considerably more time added to his original sentence.

The moment they entered the post they could easily see that something like an eruption must have occurred only recently. Everything was upset as though there had been a thorough search made for hidden treasure. Piles of dried pelts lay scattered around, the richer prizes having evidently been carried off.

The raiders had doubtless shown rare discrimination as though among their number were those who themselves had once been trappers and therefore knew all about the value of black fox pelts, sables and mink that bring such top-notch prices in the fur markets of St. Louis and other busy places in the country.

Birdseye Baker led them through all this mess straight over to the door communicating with the factor’s private room. This apartment also looked as if an earthquake of first dimensions had struck it and over on a cot against the further log wall they could see a man with a gray beard holding himself up on his elbow, having evidently heard strange voices and being filled with curiosity as well as wonder as to what all the fresh row was about.

“Hello there, Uncle Jimmy!” sang out Perk breezily as he pushed ahead with outstretched hand. “Ain’t quite forgot Gabe Perkiser, have you, ol’ top? Sorry to hear what’s happened to you an’ as me an’ my boss, Mister John Jacob Astorbilt here, mean to head for the fort right away, we aim to get thet medicine man back to look after you. It happens we got a cloud chasin’ airship waitin’ outside to carry us wherever we wanter go.”

The old Scotch factor looked as pleased as a man suffering from recent severe injuries might be expected to under the circumstances. He allowed the newcomer to squeeze his hand and even took Jack’s who fancied the other from the first – the stern honesty of the man from bonny Scotland was to be seen in his clear eye and undismayed look.

“They treated me some scandalous, Perk,” the injured man was saying with a quirk, but little in the way of Scotch brogue cropping up in his speech, “but ye ken I’m a tough old bird and have pulled out o’ many a bad scrape in the past so it may be I’ll weather this knockout, if only that doctor can gi’e me a fair start.”

“Hamilton, they say his name is,” ventured Perk, musingly, “somehow I don’t ’member the name, so like as not he must be a new one around here since I kicked out some years ago.”

“Ay; that’s the truth, laddie – he dropped in on us something like a year back, sayin’ he was sick o’ civilization and a’ its cheats and wanted to live out his life where the primitive ways still held forth. I am o’ the opinion the man must have met with some serious trouble – had his wife run awa’ with a younger chap, more’n likely, as they sometimes do, ye ken. But for a’ that he’s a clever physician and he’ll pull me out o’ this slump if on’y he can be fetched before it’s too late.”