III
THUNDERING WATERS
As the sturdy little plane tore along through the thick blackness adeluge of water hit her suddenly with such force it might have been acloud burst and she staggered under the fury of the impact. She wobbled,side-slipped, twisted and dipped with the strength of the storm beatingher mercilessly every inch of the way, and the gale at her tail spun herforward like a leaf torn from a branch. Above the roar of the engine andthe shriek of the wind through the wires, came the threatening boom ofthe Lake as its mighty waves smashed against the rock-bound shore.
Tensely Jim sat, his eyes watching the dials in front of him, his handsand feet ready for instant action. It was a struggle to keep her rightedand the boy zoomed her to fifteen thousand feet in an effort to getabove the ceiling of the tempest. But he only climbed into greatertrouble, and after a resounding crash of thunder, the sky was split in athousand ways by flashes of forked lightning. Quickly he nosed her down,eyes on the directional compass, but keeping their course was out of thequestion. They were being blown miles out of the way and he hoped theywould not go far enough east to land them somewhere in the mountains. Hehad not an instant to glance at his passenger, but once or twice hishand came in contact with Mr. Fenton, and the man was sitting braced forall he was worth. Another flash of lightning showed their faces, grimand white.
The rain continued to pelt them, and finally Jim calculated that theyhad traveled in a northerly direction. Allowing for the wind that haddriven them steadily, he turned Her Highness' nose about in an effort toreach their destination, and the frail little air-craft was almostrolled over. In Jim's mind was a vision of Champlain and he debated theadvisability of shifting the landing gears from the floats to thewheels, but he decided to keep the former in place. He knew so littleabout the country, and where it was safe to land. In the blackness whichenveloped them he could not hope to come down without a very serioussmash-up. With Bob in the back and Mr. Fenton beside him, it was toogreat a risk to take. Then he saw the man pick up the speaking-tube, sohe prepared to listen.
"Anything I can do to help?" was the question. Jim shook his head.
"We ought to be near your place but I don't know where to go down. Isthe water very rough?" he asked.
"Yes. The waves will be high and now they are driving from the southeastand will be hitting our side of the island. During a storm like this,boats have to be put under cover or they get beaten to splinters," Mr.Fenton answered.
"Thanks," said Jim. The prospect wasn't any too cheerful.
Although it was still raining, he shoved back the protecting cover andtried to peer through the darkness. He could hardly see his hand beforehis face, but he waited, until suddenly, an almost blinding flash oflightning revealed the world. Just ahead of them were farms and patchesof thickly wooded sections. The boy saw small houses, their windowslighted as if it were late at night. Low growing things, vines andshrubs were bent to the ground. The trees bowed and groaned in thethroes of the storm. Some of the branches, unable to withstand thestrain, were being ripped off and hurled through space. Beneath theracing plane the black waters of Champlain were whipped into giantrollers, and along their edges white-caps foamed ghastly yellow in theweird light. It was all shut out in a fraction of a minute, and Jimzoomed higher to get out of harm's way.
"We're about five miles north of our place," Mr. Fenton told him, andthe young fellow grinned with relief. It was some comfort to know wherethey were. Grimly he fought to bring Her Highness to face the storm.Feeding the engine all she could carry he battled to get south, but itwas a hard struggle, like shoving against an immovable, impenetrablewall. It seemed as if the plane barely moved forward, but her propellerscrewed valiantly, and slowly they gained against the wind, but it drovethem east.
"Any rocks or islands near?" Jim asked.
"Gull Rock, two miles directly east, and Fisher's Island. That's acouple of miles long. If you can head into the southern point of ourcove, that is protected somewhat from this wind and the water will notbe so bad," the man explained.
"We'll try it. Do these storms last very long?"
"One never can tell. Sometimes they come and go in less than an hour,and very often they last much longer."
"Then there is no sense in trying to stay up until it beats itself out,"Jim remarked. He couldn't say anything more. Another flash of light gavethem a brief glimpse of the world but they seemed to be far over thewater. Mr. Fenton leaned out to make observations, but was promptlyforced back to his seat.
"Wow," he whistled.
"Better keep low," Jim advised. Then came a series of flashes, and Mr.Fenton managed to get their location straightened out.
"We're still a mile north and about half way across the lake," hevolunteered. "I see Fisher's Point, the north end."
"Thanks."
Jim brought the plane about hard, raced her across, then shut off theengine just as a flash revealed the cove at the south end. The boy couldsee branches being tossed on the waves and hoped hard that none of themwould cripple Her Highness when she dropped down. Another prayer he sentup fervently was that the space was wide enough for them to stop shortof the rocks. They hit the water, rocked forward and up and downchoppily, then stopped, just as someone came racing along the shorewaving a lantern.
"Is that you, Norman?" It was Mrs. Fenton and she was so frightened thatshe could hardly speak. Her face showed white in the darkness and shegripped the light as if she would crush it.
"We're all present and accounted for, Belle," her husband answeredquickly as he hastened to get loose from the straps.
"Hello everybody!" That was Bob who bobbed up in the back seat like ajack in the box. "So, this is London, and here _we_ are!"
"Oh, I've been so terrified. I telephoned to Burlington when I saw thestorm coming and they said that you had started. It--it's been justawful, awful." Mr. Fenton splashed through the water to reach her side.
"We're a bit damp, Belle, but otherwise perfectly fine."
"I knew you would all be killed--" she insisted.
"But we aren't," he assured her again. "Need any assistance, boys?"
"No. We can manage all right," Jim answered. The rain was coming downwith less force and here and there through the darkness showed streaksof yellow light. The boys got Her Highness secured to the pier, andhurried to the house, where they found that Mrs. Fenton was getting outdry garments for them, and a cheery blaze crackled in the widefireplace, while from the kitchen came the welcome fragrance of theevening meal. They grinned appreciatively at each other and climbed totheir own room under the rafters where they changed their wet clothes.When they came down Mrs. Fenton was just putting out the lights becausethe darkness had lifted, as if by magic, and through the western windowsthey could see the glow of the evening sunshine.
"Well, what do you know about that!" Bob exclaimed, hardly able tobelieve the evidence of his own eyes.
"Have we been dreaming, or _did_ we come back from Burlington in theteeth of a rip-snorting gale?" Jim demanded.
"It was no dream," Mrs. Fenton said fervently. "It was more like anightmare. I was afraid to switch off the telephone because I expectedevery minute to get a call telling me that you had been wrecked on theLake and were all drowned. And, I was afraid to leave the switchconnected because I was sure the house would be struck by lightning. My,it wasn't a dream--not here anyway. Goodness, such a storm. I thoughtthe house would be ripped from its foundations and come tumbling over myhead. A tree was struck nearby for--oh, it did crash two differenttimes--something awful. Land sakes alive, you boys must not go up againin such weather--goodness--"
The good lady stopped for breath and to pour glasses of milk out of ahuge pitcher, while her husband served the rest of the meal. Mr. Fentondid not seem to have suffered any from his experience, and both boysconsidered the whole affair a most worth-while adventure.
"We've got some bus, Aunt Belle. Her Highness is the best in twocount
ries. Have to say that because the shift landing gear was inventedby an Englishman, but the rest is pure American," Bob smiled, then tooksuch a long drink that when he looked up from his glass, there was aperfect white half-moon on his upper lip.
"You better shave," Jim suggested.
"Go on, shave yourself! How do you like air-traveling, Uncle Norman?"
"I think it's perfectly marvelous. Had no idea, really, how wonderful itis. When especially I think that I never, in all my Life, went so farand back in so short a time. We always take a full day to make the tripto Burlington, and today we made it in an afternoon."
"Were you frightened during the storm?" Jim asked.
"Have to admit that I was quite a bit nervous but when I saw you so cooland managing so easily, and how the plane responded to every move youmade with those controls, why, I just naturally couldn't go on being acoward. It does not seem to me that Bob is over-stating the facts whenhe says the little plane is the best in two countries. I should say thatshe is the best in the world to come through such a grilling."
"Like to go up again?"
"I should indeed. Just think how automobiles and other modern inventionshave placed us far ahead of my father's time. He had to use horses andoxen, and my grandfather did all his traveling, that is, any distance,on the lake-steamers. Sometimes it took weeks, and a storm such as wehad this afternoon would have driven the boat into the nearest harbor towait for fair weather."
"Gee," Bob said soberly. "How did those old boys ever get anywhere orhave time to do anything?"
"When I was a boy I saw some of their primitive methods, Bob, but theydid manage to accomplish a great deal."
"Some real nice day we'll give you a joy ride, Aunt Belle," Bob promisedwith a twinkle in his eyes. He fully expected that Mrs. Fenton wouldpromptly decline such an invitation, but she looked at the men folk verythoughtfully, then a little pucker came between her eyes.
"Land sakes alive, Bob, you'll probably have to tie me fast and sit onme to keep me from jumping over-board, but I guess if you all think it'sso fine, I can live through it. After I have the--er--joyous--I meanjoyride, I'll write and tell your mother about it. She said that youtook her up several times and now she wants her husband to get a plane."
"Right you are," Jim laughed heartily. "Mom's a good sport and so areyou. We'll bind you hand and foot, and put weights on you, but I'll betyou will like it as much as Mom did."
"No doubt I shall," and Mrs. Fenton didn't smile over the prospect.
"Well, don't come down and ask me to buy you an air-plane, that is,unless the turkeys take a jump and we have a grand flock of them thisfall, but it doesn't look now as if there is much chance," Mr. Fentonsaid. The last part of his statement was made soberly.
"Wonder how the boy's draining plan is working after that rain," Jimremarked as he recalled the work of the strange boy on the bog.
"When we finish supper, we'll go and have a look, but I expect the placeis flooded way above the foot of the alfalfa bed," Mr. Fenton said.
"Now, how do you expect to eat your meal if you talk so much? Norman,you are not paying a bit of attention to those boys' plates and they areboth empty."
"My plate may be empty, Aunt Belle, but my tummy is beginning to feelmighty content. I could purr," Bob told them.
"Well don't. It isn't polite at the table. You may roll over on thefloor and kick your feet up if you like," Jim suggested.
"Don't you do anything of the kind," Aunt Belle said hastily. "The veryidea. Is that what you do when you have a good meal at home?"
"No, Mom wouldn't stand that," Bob answered.
"We tried it once at school and it didn't go so well there either," Jimadded gravely, and Mr. Fenton laughed heartily.
"How many demerits did they give you?" he asked.
"Ten apiece," Jim answered.
"And we had to average ninety-five on four subjects to shake them off,"Bob added. "It's a cruel world."
"The world is a great little old place. It's only the people in it, Imean some of them, who make it unpleasant," Jim declared. "I can't eatanother mouthful."
"This is my last," Bob announced regretfully as he swallowed the bite ofcherry pie. "That is, I mean the last for the time being."
"All right, it's a good thing you added that because you are not at homenow and you don't know where the pantry is located--"
"Don't kid yourself. I ascertained the location yesterday afternoon,before I'd been here twenty minutes."
"You would! Where was I?"
"Luxuriating in Champlain. I watched your fair form in the red bathingsuit while I ate gingerbread and milk--"
"Humph, that's nothing, I had some when I came in--four pieces and twoglasses--cream on top. Come along--that is--is there anything we can doto help you, sir?"
"No, thank you, Jim. I have a couple of chore boys and if you helpedthey might think I do not want them any more. We want you to enjoy yourstay in Vermont--"
"Great guns, we are. It's a grand State even if we could put it into acomer of Texas," Bob replied sincerely.
"You ought to like it, your mother was brought up here, but goodnesssakes, she went off when she wasn't much more than a girl. She wasmarried right here in the parlor. I can remember it just as if it wasyesterday, then the pair of them drove away in the two seater with oldshoes tied to the end. They did look handsome. Your pa was all sprucedup--and the next year they were in Texas--"
"You boys coming?"
"Yes sir."
As they went out onto the front piazza, the sun was setting and the skywas streaked with brilliant red and gold which shone magnificentlythrough the trees. There was no doubting that the storm had been anactuality, for a deep stream was racing down the run-off toward thelake, and everywhere the place was strewn with leaves and branches thathad been broken. The Rural Free Delivery Box was leaning wearily againsta maple, as if the struggle to keep upright had been altogether toomuch. The three picked their way across the road with water drippingfrom trees and shrubs, and the ground soggy underfoot. They were soonpast the garden, and at the further side they could see the foreign boybusy working, but this time his uncle was with him.
"Whoo-oo," Bob called cheerfully. The boy straightened up and smiled,then he came toward them and they went to the ditch he had showed themearlier in the day. It was full to the top with water which was runningoff as hard as it could go, and in spite of the storm there was littlemore water on the bog than had been there at noon time.
"Huh!" Mr. Fenton gave a little grunt of astonishment.
"Looks as if it's working all right, doesn't it?" Jim remarked.
"It certainly does. It'll be a great thing for me if he gets the placedrained for that land is a piece of the best. Don't see how he's doingit. I had an expert engineer here to dry up that section and he couldn'taccomplish a thing. Said the only way was to ditch it to the lake, thenfill in the hole, use a lot of lime, like a concrete mixer and bring thehill forward. A mighty expensive job it would have been and then part ofthe land wouldn't be very good," Mr. Fenton explained.
"Reckon this boy is some sort of wizard. He's bewitching it," Jimsuggested.
"Wish we knew something about him," Bob added.
"Don't blame you for being interested, Bob, but we like to mind our ownbusiness around here. They seem to be honest and capable and don'tinterfere with what doesn't concern them--"
"Oh, we're not going to make blooming pests of ourselves, but we thoughtit would be fun to get acquainted with him. Wish he could speakEnglish," Jim explained.
"I don't believe that he's spoken to anyone since they came. His unclespeaks fairly well. He seems upstanding. There isn't any harm in tryingto make friends with the boy, but I wouldn't--"
"Butt-in? We won't unless he's willing to have us. Know what he remindsme of, Bob?"
"What?"
"Some of those Indians, the chiefs, you know the fellows that are sostraight, clear-eyed, and sort of fine. He seems like that, only maybean even better sort. The
Indians we see now aren't so much like that."
"He is a little like that, but I don't believe he's an Indian. Maybehe's like they used to be a long time ago before the white men took allthe pep out of them," Bob agreed.
"I don't know any Indians, but I never heard that they were very hardworkers, not farmers I mean. It would be queer for one to be interestedin that sort of thing. They like hunting--"
"Yes, that's right. Dad said a few of them made good cow punchers, butthey never got much chance to show what they might do." Just then Corsocame toward them. His face was grave but his eyes wore a pleasedexpression.
"It is good?" he said as he motioned toward the receding water.
"Very fine," Mr. Fenton answered heartily, then he added, "You must notlet the boy work too hard. He does not look very strong. Why not haveone of the men help him in what he is doing? I can get a chap who willdo as he's directed, and this piece of work will be a great improvementto the property." Corso smiled.
"That would be so excellent," he agreed.
"All right. I'll have him here in the morning."
"He can the English speak?"
"Sure. You can talk to him, and I'll tell him I want him to follow anyinstructions you give him." Mr. Fenton was glad that Corso agreed to theplan for as the work promised to be a success he was anxious to get itfinished as quickly as possible.
"We better look after Her Highness before it gets too late," Jimproposed to his step-brother.
"All right," Bob agreed, then turning to the boy, he grinned. "So long,Old Top!" The youngster frowned--
"Old Top," he repeated, "so long, Old Top."