Chapter XVIII: A Scout, and a Discovery

Several days passed.

With the exception of Sunday, the two wide-awake Bird boys put in all the time possible in learning the ropes. Whenever the weather was favorable they might be seen careering around the aviation field in their gallant little Bleriot monoplane, now rising to greater heights than they had ever dared venture before, and anon coming down in some daring “spiral” that evoked loud cheers from those who, from below, witnessed the new maneuver.

The biplane was also in evidence during these times. Puss Carberry was wise in his day and generation, however. He had awakened to the fact that in Frank and Andy Bird he had competitors worthy of his best steel, and that if he hoped to outgeneral them as rivals on the day of the race he must get busy.

So he and Sandy, instead of soaring aimlessly about, enjoying themselves, began to study the humor of their airy steed. They found plenty to do, for the vagaries of an aeroplane are numerous indeed.

Each pair of aviators had its particular little group of backers in the shape of boys, who stared and cheered as they watched the evolutions and stunts which were successfully engineered.

Frank was taking no unnecessary risks. There were numerous things which of necessity they must learn, since at any moment during a flight such knowledge might be the means of saving their lives. And he went about the task of understanding just how volplaning down, boring up and such maneuvers are successfully accomplished by expert airmen, just as he did everything else he undertook, determined to be a master of the science before he finished.

It was now Tuesday. The great day was to be Friday, when on account of the attractive program laid out, it was believed there would be a greater crowd present in Bloomsbury than at any other time during Old Home Week.

By degrees the Bird boys had succeeded in mastering their machine, so that now even Andy could run it successfully. He was proud of the fact, and yet it might be noticed that he did not go around boasting.

Truth to tell, Andy had serious thoughts these days. In his mind he was perhaps picturing the time when he hoped to be able to scour the country down in that tangled wilderness of the isthmus, where his father’s balloon had vanished from the sight of mortal man. It was a solemn duty with Andy, and while he said very little about it, even to his chum, Frank could tell pretty well what was engrossing his thoughts.

On this afternoon the breeze had died out altogether, as is often the case in July. Although it was pretty hot, still the day was an ideal one for flying.

They had been working on the monoplane most of the morning, installing a searchlight, arranging a barometer close to the thermometer, so that the pilot could observe the action of the mercury without turning his head, and even fixing a new barograph in place. This last instrument Frank had sent for lately and was much interested in.

“Pretty soon we’ll want to know how high we are flying, and this will register the top notch,” he said, as they examined the instrument with interest.

“Makes me think of the self-registering thermometers I’ve seen,” declared Andy. “You put one out over night and the mercury pushes down to a certain degree, which is marked as the limit. Then you can look at it any old time and know, after which you set the register again for another shy.”

“Well,” said Frank, “this does its work on the same principle, in that it registers the highest point reached. When there is a contest on for height, I believe these registers are placed so there can be no tampering with them, and afterwards they are taken in charge by the committee and examined.”

“Say, why not take advantage of this afternoon to make a little trip over in the direction of Old Thunder Top?” suggested Andy, eagerly.

Frank shook his head as he remarked:

“You forget that one of the conditions of entry to that race is that each contestant agreed not to go within a quarter of a mile of the mountaintop before the time set for the trial. The idea is that the one who succeeds may be the actual first person known to have ever set foot on the summit of the mountain.”

“Oh, shucks! I haven’t forgotten that!” exclaimed Andy, impatiently. “But we’ve stuck to our old field here, rising and circling, till I’m sick of seeing it. To tell the truth, I hunger and thirst for new pastures. There’s nothing to hinder us from taking a lively spin of twenty miles, if we want, so long as we keep away from that plateau up yonder. Say yes, Frank!”

Of course the idea appealed to his cousin with equal force and he could not resist Andy’s plea.

“All right, then. I suppose it would be a good idea to take a little spin somewhere,” he said. “We’ve mastered the machine pretty well for novices.”

“Yes,” continued Andy, with a sly grin, “and it ain’t any harder off there in the forest, in case we fall from five hundred feet, than here in the open. Fact is, we might have a better chance by lighting in the branches of a big oak or a chestnut.”

“Well, let’s get ready to make the venture,” said Frank, rising to his feet; “but I hope all the same that we may not have to try that drop you joke about. One thing we can do is to climb up so as to get a line on how high Old Thunder Top really is. There’s always been a hot dispute about that, you know.”

“That’s so,” observed the other, scurrying around in search of things. “I’ve heard a high school teacher say it was not over seven hundred feet, as distance was so deceptive. And on the other hand, a surveyor who was used to judging distance told me he felt sure it would go much beyond a thousand feet. Now we’ll get a line on it, and the day of the race the facts will be known to a dead certainty.”

In a short time both air boys were ready for the flight.

“Put on your coat, Andy,” advised Frank, on seeing that his chum was about to take his place in his shirt sleeves. “While it’s oppressively hot down here, don’t you know that five hundred feet up the air will be chilly. And if we are moving at the rate of a mile a minute, you’ll be wishing you had your sweater on, mark my words.”

Andy smiled, but all the same he donned his coat. Frank knew, for there was precious little that escaped him. And Andy, as a rule, was quite satisfied to take pattern by his wide-awake cousin.

There were a few fellows hanging around. It was holiday time and on such a hot day they cared precious little for baseball or any other sport requiring exertion. In their minds it was much finer watching what the Bird boys would do next, for by now all of juvenile Bloomsbury had been seized with a severe attack of what Andy called “aviatus,” and numerous projects for building aircraft were being discussed in homes and on the commons.

As usual there was a whoop of pure delight from the gathered boys when the little monoplane started upward. None of them had been taken into the secret of what new stunts were to be undertaken, but they anticipated that Frank and Andy must have something up their sleeves--they looked so mysterious after that conference.

The aeroplane rose with not the slightest hitch. They were getting so accustomed to handling the machine by now that it seemed second nature to accomplish a successful rise. Indeed, as yet there had not been the slightest serious accident to alarm them, since the engine was cut off so suddenly on that first day.

After circling the field a few times at furious speed, “just to get his hand in,” as Frank said, the pilot turned the nose of the little flier straightaway in an easterly direction.

To their ears was borne the faint whoops from the cluster of envious boys left on the aviation field, as they realized what sort of new program the young aviators had on tap.

“How high are we now?” asked Andy, as he craned his neck and looked down upon the country that lay far below, and which was spread out for miles in all directions around them.

Frank laughed.

“Why,” said he, “you seem to forget that it isn’t necessary any longer to depend on guesswork, when you’ve got that hunky little barograph almost under your nose. Suppose you just take a squint and inform me.”

“Sure, pop!” exclaimed Andy, radiantly. “I had just forgotten all about that new contrivance. Hey! what d’ye think Frank, we’re sailing along right now about seven hundred feet up. Phew! that’s going some for new beginners, eh?”

“It’s fine. I don’t think we’d better go any further just now, but drop down to within a couple of hundred, and see how the lake and the woods look up this way.”

“But before you begin to go down, Frank, I want you to take a squint over toward Old Thunder Top. Just notice, will you, that while we’re now up seven hundred, that summit is still higher--several hundred feet, I reckon.”

“Which shows how little that teacher knew,” Frank observed. “Why, we’ve been up to the foot of that big cliff many a time and if we’d only had this little business along we’d soon found out that it was close on a thousand there. Now sit close, for I’m going to spiral down a bit.”

They began to move around in circles in dropping, as the engine was throttled down. By now Frank had this little trick down to a science, though he refused to try and show off at any time and thus take unnecessary risks.

When the aeroplane had reached a level of about two hundred feet from the earth, the engine was once more accelerated and they resumed their steady onward progress.

“It’s sure a treat to look down on the lake like this. Beats the view from up on the side of the mountain all hollow,” presently remarked Andy.

“Why, yes,” said his companion, as he swerved just a trifle to follow the contour of the water lying below; “because in this way we can see the shore line all around.”

“And now, as we’re at the head of the lake, which way shall we return, Frank?”

“Let’s veer off and cover a few miles of country beyond the mountain,” the pilot ventured. “It’s wild up here and as a rule none of us know much about it. Look at the woods, how thick they are, with only a little opening here and there. I remember once how we came up here to camp and the snakes were so bad we soon tired of it.”

“That’s so!” Andy exploded. “I hate snakes worse than I do skunks. Looky here! if that ain’t our old friend Baldy, skating around to take a squint at the new-fangled bird that’s invaded his exclusive territory. Hey! won’t he be surprised, though, when we land up there on Old Thunder Top Friday? Perhaps the old chap may tackle us; we’d better take a gun along to be prepared.”

But Frank laughed at the idea.

“That would hardly be according to the rules of the race. If we want to make fast time we don’t want to load ourselves down with all sorts of traps, Andy.”

“I guess you’re on,” the other remarked. “But say, this country is pretty rough, all right. I was just thinking what a splendid thing an aeroplane must be in wartimes. A fellow could soar over the enemy and learn everything that was going on. I can see a big change in our ways of fighting when the next war comes along.”

“Oh!”

“What ails you, Frank?” demanded Andy, as he heard his companion give vent to this exclamation, for naturally his nerves were all on edge with excitement.

“I saw something just then, that’s all. When you look down don’t bend over and give the fact away that you’re looking. We’re just passing over a little opening in the dense woods. I remember that it is close to that old dilapidated cabin we found when camping up here. Used to be occupied by charcoal burners once on a time. They had a scrap and one man was badly hurt, while the other disappeared.”

“Sure, I remember,” said Andy; “but what of that, Frank?”

“Look in that glade and you’ll get a glimpse of two fellows hiding. They dropped down in the grass at sight of the airship and are watching us,” said Frank, quickly.

“I declare that’s so; but who are they, and why do you act that way?” asked the puzzled Andy.

“Now we’ve passed over. Don’t turn your head back for anything, because, Andy, that was Jules and his pal, the robbers Chief Waller has been hunting high and low for so long!”