Wings Over the Rockies; Or, Jack Ralston's New Cloud Chaser

XXVI
CRATER LAKE

Along about an hour after Perk had made his lonesome midday lunch and marveled at the fact of his being able to only devour three of those toothsome sandwiches the chef at the hotel had put up at his order, things had arrived at such a point that Jack felt it was only the part of wisdom for him to do whatever lay in his power to keep track of their bearings.

If that rising wind kept on increasing in strength so that it even threatened to wind up in a genuine smashing gale, the chances were they must either make some sort of a forced landing, or else climb up above the storm clouds so as to avoid new and more appalling perils.

In so doing they would lose track of their points of contact and be compelled to go all over the same ground again or take chances of picking up the broken thread of their search wherever they had to drop it.

Thus hard set, Jack began to try and take note of various unusual formations – using the binoculars in so doing – that, stamped on his receptive mind might serve as landmarks just as “targets” do the harbor pilots when fetching a deep sea vessel in through the shallows to port and safety.

Sometimes small fishing smacks, driven from a promising field by wind and huge billows, are able to mark the spot by an anchored empty water keg and in this way are able to find the fruitful spot when the weather moderates. Such a stratagem however is not available to the air voyager, whose only resource lies in a retentive memory.

When another half hour had slipped by, Jack began to once again entertain a hope that this emergency might not reach a culmination. If anything, the wind had lost a modicum of its fierceness and twice he discovered a little break in the cloud ceiling by which they were covered, as though the sun were trying to peep through.

Thus things were going along as the middle of the afternoon was reached. Perk at the controls was mentally comparing their condition to that of a shipwrecked crew of a sunken vessel; out of water with their hearts almost in their throats with anxiety, shading their eyes with their hands and searching along the horizon for signs of a sail. Somehow the comparison gave Perk much concern, and he tried to imagine the great joy that must fill the souls of that forlorn little company when suddenly one of their number shouts out the glorious news: “Ship ahoy – a steamer’s smoke smudge to larboard!”

But it was only Suzanne asking Jack to please take a look and tell her what that lumbering, ungainly object might be which she had discovered moving across the rocks under the keel of the flying boat.

“I never happened to run across one before,” Jack presently explained, “but I’m sure it must be a Mountain Charlie, as I understand people out in California call the silvertip grizzly bear. Some monster in the bargain, Miss Cramer and you’ll agree with me when I say I’d rather be here than there.”

She nodded her head as if to let him know he was right but when Jack saw a shadow pass over her face he understood what was in her mind – that her poor wounded Buddy might be lying there helpless, with that savage monster drawing nearer and nearer, sniffing the air and following the scent that sooner or later would take him to the spot where the fallen air mail pilot lay.

She shuddered and put a hand in front of her eyes nor could she be induced to make use of the glasses again for quite some time. She evidently feared lest she once more glimpse that horrid hairy animal, shuffling along in his shambling fashion, ready to attack any creature that came in his way, be it bird, beast or human being for was he not the king of the mountain fastnesses, utterly unafraid?

Jack felt convinced fortune was proving kindly disposed toward their mission of humanity. That troublesome wind was slowly but surely diminishing in force and gave promise of finally dying out in another hour or so. At least they were not going to be forced to call the search off as long as daylight served. Jack had not as yet decided in his mind what to do after twilight came and the face of the country became blotted out in the gathering gloom of night.

It might be possible for them to keep going, in hopes of discovering the tempting glow of a campfire among the tall trees of the timber belt; but discretion would more than likely force them to give up operations until yet another day.

The risk would be much too great, flying at that low altitude across such a dangerous wilderness where at any minute some unseen rocky cliff might suddenly rise up before their speeding aircraft bringing about an unavoidable crash, an explosion and – oblivion!

And then it came to pass, after all those weary and distressing hours of search – this time Suzanne uttered a shrill shriek and trembling all over held out the binoculars toward Jack crying:

“Oh! tell me if I am going out of my mind Jack! Is that really and truly smoke curling up from over there?”

She clung to his arm and continued to point, trying to keep her hand from wobbling to and fro because of her emotion.

Jack quickly focussed upon the object that had caught her attention. Perk understanding what it must all be about, even if unable to catch the meaning of what was being said, watched Jack’s face, well knowing how it was sure to register his thoughts.

“Smoke it is, for all the world!” Jack declared, immediately adding further words of good cheer; “and as true as you live, I can catch a gleam of sunlight falling on clear water!”

“Crater Lake, Jack?” demanded the duly thrilled girl, now all aglow with renewed hope and expectation.

“It must be,” admitted the other, still looking through the glasses, “we were told there is no other body of water in this entire section. You know Bart said that old hermit was believed to have his hideout close by the ice water lake, for smoke had been seen rising of mornings when the air-mail carrier went through a bit off his course.”

He made a gesture to Perk the other readily understood. It meant that he should immediately bank and go back again on the same track so they could have yet another opportunity to use their eyes and learn if things were as hopeful as they had been led to believe.

Jack managed to glance in the direction of the girl close by. It was plain to be seen that Suzanne was tremendously agitated by this sudden discovery of both the secret hideout of the so-called hermit and the nearby Crater Lake, concerning which they had heard accounts from Bart Hicks.

Not a single word passed her tightly compressed lips but in her whole demeanor there was an expression of wonder, eagerness and fear – the last no doubt on account of certain possibilities that, after all their efforts they might have arrived too late or else that the hermit had seen nothing whatsoever of the long missing flyer.

Jack too, knew they were banking on what must be called a long chance for thus far it was only a mere surmise that caused them to seek out the hidden retreat of the man who shunned his fellows. Not a single thing had come to their notice to affirm that Buddy Warner had ever flown over Crater Lake in any of his passages to and fro, although his usual course lay within a few miles of the extinct volcano.

“I’ll take the stick now, Perk,” he announced as they once more caught a glimpse of that curling, eddying smoke column and then sighted the cliff encircled lake of the mountains.

One thing Jack had already settled that the sheer rocky walls did not entirely encompass the sheet of water. There was a section at the near end where the ground sloped down to the very edge of the lake. Jack could see this with his naked eye – no further necessity existed for using the magnifying binoculars, he concluded.

Then of a sudden Jack felt a warm glow pass over his whole body. What was this he saw projecting from the lake close to the shore? He had on some other occasion looked upon a wrecked plane partly submerged in some body of water, fresh or salt and here he found himself staring down at a similar object.

This would tell the story, Jack thought, better than any words could do. Some aviator must have attempted to drop down upon the lake, perhaps to ease the shock of contact when forced to descend through an accident to his outfit, that was a positive thing and what was more reasonable than to conclude the unfortunate airman must be the missing pilot for whom so many flyers were scouring the whole country up and down, east and west?

He half opened his mouth as though to call the attention of Suzanne to his thrilling discovery and then stopped short. She would find it out for herself quickly enough and if there was a bitter disappointment awaiting the brave girl, far be it from him to hasten the coming of her grief.

Now they had begun to circle the lake itself and once directly over the body of water, Jack could see it was indeed a real gem. A small but select sheet that, save for the presence of the hermit close by, had probably never been fished by a single white man. A perfect trout preserve, he told himself, in the ecstasy of a born fisherman.

It was what Perk would call a “reg’lar cinch.” There was not the slightest reason to hold back, for never an obstacle could Jack discover calculated to give them trouble in making contact with the water. Once safely floating on the surface of the mysterious lake, they could taxi over to a position close to the sloping beach where a landing might be effected in order to search for the hidden retreat of the lone settler.

Once, twice, three times did he make a complete turn around the circular pond and then having his plan laid out, he dove down until close to the shimmering surface when he suddenly leveled off and then gently continued the drop, to fall upon the bosom of the beautiful harbor almost as lightly as a wild duck would splash down from on high.

And then Suzanne discovered the half submerged ship, with its nose out of sight and its tail pointing up at the northern sky. It was a melancholy and ill-omened spectacle indeed, speaking as it surely did of some unfortunate airman’s swift plunge from lofty heights to strike the tiny lakelet. Indeed, it might even have been his intended target when the terrible drop was first begun. Suzanne gave a cry and held out her quivering hands toward the wrecked plane as though all doubts were now removed as to her Buddy having dipped down into this pool when his ship became unmanageable.

XXVII
THE END OF THE AIR TRAIL

The crisis for which they had been preparing during the entire aerial trip was now a reality. Before many more minutes had passed they would know that which they came to find out – whether Buddy had clung to life during the long, agonizing interval, or had “gone west,” as so many in his perilous calling had done before him in a blaze of sacrifice and glory.

They were now floating on the surface of the little mountain lake in the midst of the most wonderful surroundings the human mind could imagine. Here centuries ago had been the wide vent of an active volcano and at intervals from this same opening, now so quiet and peaceful, there had undoubtedly burst forth vast waves of molten lava accompanied by sulphurous smoke and thunderous sounds, as though nature had broken her chains and meant to reshape the whole western world.

Later on, when his mind was more at ease, Jack Ralston could in some measure paint the terrible picture and in his mind imagine he saw the bubbling lava, rolling down the side of the rocky mountain with frightful havoc all along its tortuous course.

Just then, however, but one matter engaged his entire attention. Where was the strange hermit of Crater Lake? Why did he not show himself when he surely must have watched their coming and successful descent? Had he been able to save the life of Buddy or would they be shown a mound of earth amidst the heaped-up rocks where the valiant young air-mail pilot lay in the sleep that knows no earthly awakening.

“Look yonder, Jack – somethin’ movin’ among them bushes!” Perk was saying in his ear, for since the engine no longer kept up its roar and the propeller had ceased functioning, it was possible for them to hear ordinary sounds. “Mebbe now it might be that four-footed ole grizzly b’ar an’ I ort to get my rattler o’ a machine gun in hand.”

“Don’t bother about that, Perk,” Jack told him, “see, it’s a man, and chances are we’re going to meet the queer old hermit of the mountains right now.”

Even as Jack was thus quieting the fears of his chum, the object of their observation walked into full sight and was hastening to reach the border of the clear-water lake close by where the only sign of a beach occurred.

He was not a startling figure at all and seemed garbed in ordinary clothes that had evidently been selected for long service when far away from tailors and housewives. His face was bearded and his hair white but he strode along with a swinging step that told of bodily vigor and good health.

Reaching the border of the water he seemed to be giving them the “once over,” as Perk called it in his suggestive way.

“There, see, he’s beckoning for us to come closer,” said Jack with something approaching relief in his manner. “I see what looks like a clumsy boat made from the trunk of a tree drawn far up on the shore. Reckon he uses the old tub when he feels like doing a little fishing. We’ll taxi in as close as the depth of the water allows and then if necessary we can wade the balance of the way, carrying Suzanne between us.”

As he turned to start his motor he had one look at the white face of the speechless girl and as long as he lived Jack would never forget the tense agony he saw stamped there. It hardly seemed as though Suzanne was breathing as she stared at the figure of the strange old man on the shore in whose hands as she well knew, lay the power of life and death insofar as her happiness was concerned. One word from him would tell the whole tragic story.

Then the motor began to hum and with a dextrous hand Jack sent the amphibian scurrying toward the beach. Perk meanwhile snatched up a pole he always kept handy for such a purpose and thrusting it into the water, sounded the depth as they went along.

When presently Perk called out just what he had been waiting to announce so grandly “by the mark, twain,” Jack shut off the engine and the plump of the anchor immediately followed, Perk having that useful hook ready at his hand.

“You are searching for him, I take it for granted?” said the hermit, at the same time pointing to the wreck of the plane not many yards away with its disconsolate looking tail in the air and its nose apparently buried in the mud a few feet under the surface.

“Yes, we are one of a score and more of plane parties scouring the whole side of the Rockies,” replied Jack, trying his best to keep his voice from breaking for the suspense had him in its grip as well as the poor girl. “Did you manage to save him, sir – tell us – or – or was it too late?”

He heard a low, bubbling cry, or was it a sob – at his elbow but his eyes were riveted on the tall erect figure of the mysterious recluse. The other was nodding his head – surely that could be reckoned a favorable sign. Jack again summoned his courage to the fore and went on to ask the crucial question:

“This girl, sir, is the sweetheart of Buddy Warner, whose strange disappearance has thrilled the entire nation – have pity, and relieve her dreadful suspense – is he alive?”

Another nod, and in the affirmative, accompanied by a ghost of a smile. Then came the words that would ring in Jack’s ears for many a moon:

“Alive, and with a good chance for recovery, I am glad – ”

“Quick! catch her, Perk!” yelled Jack as he felt the girl falling in a dead faint from the reaction. The relief proved too much for the strained condition of her nerves.

A dash of ice-cold water from the lake soon revived her and she smiled at the pair bending over her so solicitously.

“We must get her ashore without any delay,” announced Jack, for he had great fears lest the enraptured girl take it upon herself to jump overboard and without any assistance from either of her guardians manage to make land.

Perk instantly dropped into the water which came almost up to his waist. It was pretty cold, but what did that matter to one so fond of calling himself a “tough old guy” and able to negotiate where others would shrink back.

Suzanne sprang into his arms as though not a second was to be lost in reaching the side of her beloved Buddy. So too, did Jack follow the example of his pal, determined not to be cheated out of the glorious sight when Suzanne and Buddy were reunited.

Once they were all ashore, dripping wet, but heedless of so little a thing under the circumstances. The master of this lonely region led them along what seemed to be a narrow, well trodden path, circulating among the piled-up rocks and trees, until presently they reached a rude shack from the stone chimney of which arose the tell-tale smoke that had been their guiding beacon in discovering the retreat of the recluse.

Suzanne dashed ahead of their guide and they heard her joyous cries as they reached the open door. She was down on her knees, her arms around a figure stretched out on a rude cot.

And so it was that Jack and Perk came upon the lost air-mail pilot whose hand they were soon squeezing with heartiest enthusiasm. Buddy was bandaged pretty well and confessed to a broken arm and quite a lot of bruises, all of which would keep him “on the shelf” for a month or so but everything was “all right,” he told them and expressed amazement as well as pride when told that Suzanne had not only received her pilot’s license, unbeknown to him, but even made a long and successful solo flight in the mad desire to join in the wide search for him.

The hermit was saying nothing, only listening with great interest and Jack could easily see that somehow this strange happening must have renewed his interest in the outside world from which he had for years been a stranger.

Such chattering as followed.

The happy girl turned every little while to beam upon her two faithful squires as if she could never forget how much they had done for her. Perk stared at her as though entranced. Evidently he had never imagined there could be so much loveliness in all the wide world as he saw pictured there in her rosy face with eyes like twin stars. For such a delightful little “dame” the honest fellow would have braved the perils of Niagara or the Whirlpool Rapids, if need be, to see such rapture steal over her face. The proud feeling, that he had been able to prove of service to Suzanne in her hour of blackest despair, would reward him ten times over for any bodily discomfort he may have endured. And Buddy too, he was surely worth finding – so jovial, so chummy in his ways and, lucky guy, with so dainty a “best girl” to hover over him and be his devoted nurse.

No one would ever know the part he and Jack had taken in this happy ending of the widely published mystery attending Buddy’s vanishing in the night. The rules of the service to which he and his pal had sworn allegiance forbade such a thing as publicity. To have their pictures sent throughout the land, with an account of their previous successful labors in rounding up transgressors of the law, would put an effectual damper on any future jobs coming their way. It was not to be permitted under any circumstances whatever and not only the hermit, but both Buddy and his girl must solemnly promise never to disclose the names and vocation of the two airmen who were mainly responsible for the finding of the lost aviator.

That, however, was a minor matter to both comrades. They were not in the Secret Service of Uncle Sam for any glory or honors that might be showered upon them. They did not risk their lives day after day with any hope of being decorated with a Victory Cross or any ribbon telling of foreign service. It must be sufficient reward for them to feel that they had performed their duty to the best of their ability, no matter what its character and, backed by the long arm of the Law, brought wicked violators to the bar of justice, there to receive the penalty for their crimes.

One thing Jack noticed almost immediately was how everything connected with the bandaging of Buddy’s broken arm had been carried out with astonishing neatness. Had he been a patient in some hospital, attended by the most famous of surgeons and with a clever nurse as his attendant, he could not have been in better shape.

Jack looked again closely at the mysterious recluse, noted the keen eye, the slender, agile fingers which moved with dexterity when he fixed up some little slip in the bandage and made up his mind that the world had undoubtedly lost one of its most gifted surgeons when this unknown man took to the woods, so to speak, for some reason never known.

Buddy was a bit weak and his host bade him not to keep talking too long, since excitement would not be good for him in his present condition – indeed he had quite enough as it was. But Suzanne begged so hard to be permitted to wait upon him and promised to keep him quiet, that she was finally given permission to do so.

Perk too, had noticed the way in which the hermit had done such a wonderfully fine job in attending to the one he had rescued from drowning after the plane had crashed; for he too, seemed to steal a sly glance in the other’s direction whenever he felt he could do so without being detected.

For one thing, the near miracle of Buddy’s being able to drop down into the shallows near the sandy shore had doubtless kept the plane from being wrapped in flames and possibly eased the plunge more or less.

“When I dragged him out,” the owner of the shack explained to Jack and the latter noted how musical his voice seemed, so full and clear in the bargain, “he would not allow me to even look at his wounds until I had found and rescued four sacks of mail. You would have thought the contents of those bags were of greater value than his own life. That is what I’d call being faithful to a trust. But now I must ask both of you gentlemen to follow me outside where, as a rule I do my cooking. While we make ready to have supper, such as the limited stores will allow, we can talk over things and you may be able to figure just how you expect to take off again in the morning for it is too late now to consider going.”

A little later on, while Jack was aboard the ship getting certain things that he wanted, Perk sidled up to the earnest old man with whom their fortunes had been so strangely thrown, and with one of his capacious grins remarked casually:

“If you’ll excuse me for sayin’ it, mister, I kinder guess now your name might be Doctor Whitelaw Reeves!”

When the other heard him mention that name he started as though he had been stung and looked Perk over with those keen eyes of his, and then a faint smile broke out on his stern face.