Read Hal Kenyon Disappears Page 3


  CHAPTER III

  A FALL FROM THE AIR

  That was the history of Mummy Canyon, Flathead Mountain and LakefarmInstitute. The mountain was partly visible from the school. On theirreturn to the farm from Mummy Canyon the Boy Scouts would have to walk onthrough the canyon, past old Flathead, and up the stream that camedashing noisily down from Lakefarm and joined Flathead River north ofthe big gorge.

  The peakless mountain was located near the lower end of the canyon, andit was from a bluff on the mountain side that the "mummy" stood forth.Before the sun went down the Scouts could see the outlines of this freakof nature from their position at the camp fire, but as it sank beneaththe high horizon and the canyon grew dark, both the bluff and the "mummy"were lost to view. But presently the moon rose over Old Flathead.

  Under such circumstances Hal Kenyon began his legend of the canyon,relating it as follows:

  "Flathead Mountain was once a giant. He was the biggest giant that everlived. His name wasn't Flathead then. His head ran up to a peak, and thepeople called him Sugar Loaf.

  "But his heart was made of stone, the hardest kind, and his brains wereall up in the peak of his head. And those brains didn't amount to much,for they had such a small place to rest in that they were squeezed intohalf their natural size.

  "And since he didn't have much brains and his heart was made of stone,he was a cruel giant. He did all kinds of mean things. He killed and ateall the boys he could lay his hands on. There weren't any Boy Scouts inthose days, or they'd have gone out and killed him."

  "I'd have clouted him in the jaw," interrupted Frank Bowlerenergetically. "Just one good swift punch on the chin--"

  "Yes, you would, Bad," jeered Pickles; "you're all the time talkingabout clouting somebody--but you never do."

  "I don't, eh?"

  "Come, come, boys," warned the doctor. "That's not very dignified talkfor a Boy Scout, Frank. You ought to be ashamed of yourself. It's silly.Go ahead, Harry. We'll let Frank tell us how he would have licked thegiant after you've finished."

  "Well," continued Hal, "I was going to tell how a boy like Bad did cloutthe giant in the face, or something worse, but he interrupted me. Yousee it was this way. A good many years ago, a boy called Smash livednear here. That was before the giant lost his peak. Smash went aroundsmashing everybody in the face. The giant met him in the woods one dayand nodded his head at him and said hello.

  "'Come off the heap; don't talk to me,'" jeered Smash. 'I'll lay my miton your mouth.'

  "'Ho, ho, ho!' laughed the giant. 'You're the conceitedest kid that evercame to this canyon.'

  "'Where's the best place to hit you?' asked Smash.

  "'Right here on my ankle,' replied the giant. 'You can't reach anyhigher.'

  "'Let me stand on your ear, and I'll give you a nailer,' said Smash.

  "The giant picked Smash up with two fingers and stood him on his ear.

  "'Now, let me have your axe,' said Smash.

  "'What!' roared the giant.

  "'Let me have your axe.'

  "'Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!' laughed the giant. 'You couldn't get your armsaround the handle.'

  "'I can't, eh? Just give it to me and I'll knock your brains out.'

  "'All right, you conceited kid,' said the giant. 'Here it is. Bustaway.'

  "He always carried his axe with him to cut firewood, and he gave it tothe boy. Smash's fingers seemed suddenly to grow very long and verystrong, for they seized the handle and lifted it up. Then, before thegiant realized what was happening, Smash gave the axe a mighty swing andcut the top of his head off."

  "Hurrah for Smash!" exclaimed Bad.

  "Wait a minute," said Hal. "There's more coming and you won't be sohappy over it."

  "Did Smash fall off his ear?" inquired one of the boys.

  "Good guess," replied Hal. "That's just what happened."

  "Did he break his neck?" asked another.

  "I don't know; but it was just as bad. He fell faster than the top ofthe giant's head and the giant's brains spilt on top of him and drowndedhim."

  "_Drowned_ him, you mean," corrected Mr. Porter. But the correction wasnot noticed. The boys were loudly expressing their opinions of thestory. Some liked it; others were displeased.

  "Served him right for having the big-head," declared Joe Moffett wisely.

  "You bet it did," agreed Vincent Pyle.

  "Didn't either," shouted Frank Bowler. "That's a crazy story. You can'ttell me. Why, do you think a boy who could stand on a giant's ear andcut off the top of his head with a axe as big as forty trees would getin such a scrape?"

  "No," replied several. "Yes," declared others.

  "You're crazy," said Bad, addressing the latter. "Why, he'd 'a' fell inthe giant's pocket, or caught hold o' one of his whiskers, or hung ontohis watch chain."

  "That's a good argument," pronounced Dr. Byrd. "What have you to say toit, Hal?"

  "Bad's wrong," replied the story teller.

  "I want you boys to quit calling Frank 'Bad,'" said the doctor sternly."He isn't bad at all. He's just extravagant in his talk."

  "I don't care what they call me," declared Frank, who was rather proudof his nickname.

  "Just so we don't call you down, eh?" Pickles amended.

  "If you do, I'll clean you up."

  Pickles was smaller than Bad and did not resent this threat. The doctordid not regard Frank's talk very seriously and so did not remonstrate.He remembered similar experiences of his own and believed that hardknocks are a much better cure than constant preaching for the brag andbluff of a boy.

  "Where'd you get that story?" inquired Byron Bowler, Bad'sone-year-older brother. "Make it up yourself?"

  "No, Pepper helped me," replied Hal. Pepperill Humphrey was an oldservant of the doctor's who had traveled with him much and followed hisemployer soon after the latter settled in Colorado. He was aninteresting character, one of those old-style family servants who hadgrown up with the families for whom they worked.

  "We worked it out together," continued Hal.

  "Did you put me in it or did Pepper?" inquired Frank.

  "I didn't know you were in it," replied Hal with a mischievous grinplainly visible in the firelight.

  "Oh, Smarty! You know what I mean. You meant Smash for me."

  "I put Smash in the story, yes; but you never did any such things as hedid."

  Hal and Frank were very good friends, and Hal knew better than to takeseriously Bad's "fierce" attitude. He liked his warlike friend best whenhe was threatening to "clean somebody up." There was something amusingabout him when he was making one of his idle threats.

  "Now, who's going to tell us a story about the mummy?" inquired Mr.Frankland.

  "I have one on _that_ if nobody else has," announced Dr. Byrd.

  "Tell it," cried several of the boys eagerly.

  "It isn't very long," said the doctor; "but it fits in well with Hal'sstory. The giant, by the way, had water on the brain: that's why Smashwas drowned.

  "Well, Smash, by the way, was an Indian. And he had a brother whose namewas Rash. This brother was continually doing the most outlandish thingsand performing the most wonderful feats. After the top of the giant'shead was cut off and his brains gone, the giant died. But as he was verystockily built, he did not fall over, but continued to stand there.Trees and bushes and grass and flowers grew all over and he became amountain.

  "Now, Rash was a witness of the death of Smash. He was sailing above inan airship--"

  "What!"

  "In an airship!"

  "Yes, why not?" he replied.

  "Who ever heard of Indians having airships!" said Bad in tones ofdisgust.

  "This Indian was a real inventor," explained Dr. Byrd. "But he kept thesecrets of all his inventions to himself, so that when he died all hiswork died with him. When he saw the fearful accident that had befallenhis brother, he glided down to offer assistance. The giant was dead,although standing erect; but Smash had disapp
eared, all but one foot.That was sticking out from under the hollow peak of the giant's head,which had fallen over the boy and caged him in.

  "Rash alighted and attempted to turn the peak over; but although he wasvery strong, he was unable to do this. So he flew away, and a few dayslater he returned with several other Indians. With the aid of some treetrunks for levers they elevated one side of the peak-prison and pulledout the body of the prisoner.

  "The brain of the giant proved to have been a most remarkable substance.It had a strong odor of spices and chemicals and had converted Smash'sbody into a mummy. The flesh was becoming hard as stone and it wasevident that no decay could follow.

  "Although Rash was a reckless and daring fellow, he had not the greatfault that had brought Smash to a sad end. He appreciated the danger ofsuch a nature and desired to warn all others against a like fate. So hewrapped the body in cloths, as some of the Indian tribes have done, andsaturated the cloths with diluted giant's brain to preserve them. Thenhe put the body on his airship and arose to the giant's forehead, andlanded with his burden on a beetling eyebrow. There he hewed out ashallow niche, into which, he set the mummified Smash and cemented himfast; and on the giant's forehead he remains to-day as a warning notonly to boys who are continually threatening to clean some one up, butalso to giants who may be so foolish as to put great power into thehands of boastful youths."

  Everybody except Frank applauded this story. After the hand-clapping andshouts of glee had subsided, Bad remarked disdainfully:

  "That story's all bunk. The mummy on the mountain's as big as aelephant. How could it have been a boy?"

  "Oh, those Indians were giants themselves, though they weren't anythinglike as big as Flathead," exclaimed Dr. Byrd.

  At this moment all were startled by a most remarkable noise. It was aheavy whirring sound and came from overhead. Instinctively they alllooked up and beheld in the moonlight a very strange object. But,strange though it was, every one of the boys recognized its naturealmost immediately.

  "It's an airship," cried one.

  "An aeroplane," shouted another.

  "He's volplaning," exclaimed Dr. Byrd in startled tones. "I wonder whathe means. He can't be going to land here."

  "He seems to be in trouble," said Mr. Frankland. "Yes, he's comingdown."

  "Look out, everybody!" shouted Dr. Byrd. "No telling where he'll land."

  There was no need of a second warning. Evidently the aviator was losingcontrol of his machine. It acted as if one wing had been clipped.Suddenly, within fifty feet of the ground, the aeroplane plunged andfell with a crash and a thud less than a hundred feet from the campfire.