Lost In The Air | Page 6

here," answered Barney. "Old Major ought to have given us
more time to try 'em out. Brand new."
"Barren Lands far away. Forced to land in tree-tops. Good-night!"
After that there came only the monotonous roar of the engines. The
Major's orders had been "Due north by west," and now, though they
had put fully two hundred miles between themselves and the last sign
of civilization, they were still holding to their course. They also had
been directed to fly as low as was safe. Three times the Major had
barked an order into the receiver; always to circle some spot, while he
swept the earth with a binocular as powerful as could be used in an
airplane. Three times he had given a second order to resume their
course.
"He seems to be looking for something," Barney said to himself, and at
once he began wondering what it could be. Mines of fabulous wealth
were said to be hidden away in the hills and forests over which they
were passing--rich outcroppings of gold, silver and copper. Perhaps the
Major was trying to locate them from the air. Here and there they
passed over broad stretches of prairie, the grass of which would feed
numberless herds of cattle. Perhaps, too, the Major was examining
these with an eye to future gain. Then, again Barney thought of the
illegal wireless station and he idly speculated on how it could be so
important now that the war was over. There was little to do but think as

they scudded away, now racing a cloud, then plunging through the
masses of vapor, to reappear suddenly in the sunshine beyond. Barney
had always keenly enjoyed watching the land slip by beneath him as he
flew, but on this journey there was the added joy of sailing over lands
unknown. His reflections were suddenly cut short by a strange jarring
rattle from the Rolls-Royce. Instantly the thunder was cut in half, as
also was their power. Bruce had stopped the big motor. If now
something went wrong with the Liberty, they must make a forced
landing. This, with the level stretches of prairie giving place to rough,
rolling swells covered with scrub timber, was not a pleasant thing to
think of and even less pleasant to attempt.
The sun, sending a last yellow glow across the land, sank from sight,
and soon the moon, with silvery light and black bands of shadow, was
playing strange tricks with the stolid world beneath them.
All day, when duties permitted, Bruce had kept an eye open for a cabin
hidden among the pines. Now he shouted through the telephone to
Barney;
"What'll I do if I catch a square of light below?"
Barney knew he was thinking of the boy, Timmie, and La Vaune's
money he carried into the woods. A square of light, of course, would
have been a cabin window.
"Kill your engine if you see a chance to light, and explain later," he
shouted back.
But no square of light appeared, and soon the thought of it was driven
from their minds, for, of a sudden, the plane shuddered like a man with
a chill. It was the second engine. Bruce threw off the power. Then, with
a sput-sput-sput, started it again. Once more came the shudder. Again
he tried with no better results. Half its power was gone; something was
seriously wrong. He turned to the other engine. It would not start at all.
Here was trouble. They were passing over ridge after ridge, and all
were roughly timbered. Surely, here was no landing-place. And if the
second engine stopped altogether,--Bruce's heart lost a beat at thought

of it.
He gave the engine more gas and headed the plane upward. She
climbed slowly, sluggishly, like a tired bird, but at length the keener air
told him they were a safer distance above the earth.
"Better chance to pick a landing-place from here," thought Barney.
They had scarcely reached this higher level when the engine stopped.
No efforts of the pilot availed to start it. His companions silently
watched Bruce's mute struggles. The Major, a perfect sport, sat
stoically in his place. Barney, knowing that suggestions were useless,
also was silent. So they volplaned slowly downward, every eye strained
for a safe landing-place. They knew what a crash would mean at such a
place. Loss of life perhaps; a wrecked plane at least, then a struggle
through the woods till starvation ended it. They were four hundred
miles from the last trace of white man's habitation.
They had come down to three thousand feet when it became evident
that only rough ridges lay beneath them. No landing-place here,
certainly. They could only hang on as long as possible in the hope the
ridges would give way to