CHAPTER XIX
WHAT HAPPENED TO JERRY
"I'd give something for a pair of wings just now!" exclaimed Will regretfully.
"Or that bally old balloon of Professor Smythe's, eh?" echoed Bluff, as he surveyed the stretch of water separating them from the mainland.
"But something must be done! Bluff, get your gun!"
Frank was hastily removing the tennis shoes he wore aboard the boat.
"What're you going to do?" demanded Will, as Bluff made haste to obey.
"Two of us must get ashore. Perhaps Jerry needs help."
"Oh! I see! And you think you can wade there?" queried Will, as he saw Frank drawing on the second pair of heavy shoes, that had already been in the water.
"That's what we have to do. Ready, Bluff?" cried Frank, snatching up his own double-barreled shotgun.
"Where do I come in?" demanded Will as they slid overboard.
"You're the goalkeeper this time. Hold the ship, with Joe, here, till we get back."
"And they've taken all the guns along," grumbled Will as he watched his two chums making their splashing way in the direction of the shore.
Happening to bethink himself of the old revolver on board, Will presently armed himself with the same, and tried to imagine that he presented an imposing appearance as the guardian of the motor-boat. Truth to tell, he would have really been far more dangerous handling his favorite camera, for he did not have it in him to harm a flea, if he could help it.
Meanwhile, Frank and his comrade were pushing for the shore as rapidly as the conditions allowed. By exercising a certain amount of discretion they were able to follow up one of the oyster reefs that thrust out from the bank like the fingers of a human hand.
"We'll make it all right," declared Bluff presently.
"Yes, and without getting in deeper than half way up. But I'm wondering why we don't hear anything more from Jerry. He had six charges in his rifle, you know."
From Frank's tone it was easy to understand that he was worried.
"Say, perhaps that was meant for a signal," suggested Bluff suddenly.
"There were three shots, just as we've always agreed, but then they were scattered somewhat. I hardly agree with you, Bluff, though it may be true. I hope it is, and yet Jerry must have known we had no boat. He would hardly want us to come ashore unless he was in a mighty serious pickle."
"Anyhow, we're nearly there, and must soon know the worst," said Bluff, whose face looked a bit peaked under the suspense.
More through accident than design, they landed close to the spot where the old palmetto shack could be seen. Frank pointed to an enclosure along the edge of the bayou, made by piling up logs and pieces of coquina rock.
"Turtle crawl," he said, as they hurried past, and Bluff only gave it one look, for his attention was taken up with the more serious matter that had brought them ashore.
Advancing to the shack, Frank looked in, but there did not appear to be a living soul around.
He surveyed his surroundings with anxiety. Great live-oaks, with their crooked limbs covered with the trailing Spanish moss; tall palmettos, and shorter young ones of the same type; gumbo-limbo trees, wild plum, and several wild orange trees, made up the immediate surroundings.
"Oh! if we only had some idea which way he could have gone!" exclaimed
Frank.
"Perhaps he left a trail," was the bright thought of Bluff.
"Almost impossible to map it out in this black sand," Frank replied; but, nevertheless, he started to look, since there was nothing else to do.
A dozen impossible things flashed through Frank's brain as he bent over to try and pick up the tracks of his missing chum. Whatever could have happened to Jerry? Usually he was able to take good care of himself; could it be possible that some inmate of the dilapidated shack had stolen upon him, bent upon robbery? In that case, how account for the shots?
"Let's shout," said Bluff again.
"A bright thought, and surely it can do no harm. Let me call singly,
Bluff."
Thereupon Frank lifted up his voice and shouted:
"Jerry! Jerry! Where are you?"
The call rang through the thick jungle under the live-oaks. A small animal, possibly a 'coon, scurried through the undergrowth. In an adjacent tree a Florida bluejay gave forth a discordant scream. A fox-squirrel barked saucily, and with a flirt of his bushy tail scrambled around to the other side of a hickory tree.
Then came a shout that thrilled them:
"Ahoy, there, Frank!"
"It's Jerry!" cried Bluff, ready to throw his hat into the air.
Frank himself was tremendously relieved. No matter what had happened, their chum was alive, and could call to them.
"Hello! What's the matter? Where are you?" he shouted, for the voice of
Jerry had come from a little distance away, and seemed strangely muffled.
"Straight into the woods from the shack!" came back the reply.
"We're coming to you!" called Frank, still puzzled to know what it all meant.
"I wonder what he has dropped into now?" speculated Bluff as he trotted along at the heels of his leader.
"Sounds as if he wanted us to come to him, all right. Keep your gun ready, Bluff, for there's no telling but what you may need it," Frank went on.
"It's in apple-pie shape for business at the old stand. Jerry laughs at it, but before now he's found that it could help a fellow out of a hole. Suppose you try him again?"
Bluff's suggestion was a good one, and Frank raised his voice in a shout. This time the answer came from a point closer at hand. Still, although they were peering eagerly through the dense foliage, they could see nothing out of the way.
"This beats the Dutch! Where under the sun can the fellow be?" said
Bluff, after they had gone still further.
"What's that?" asked Frank suddenly, pointing.
"I declare if it doesn't look some like a dead deer, a little fellow, too; perhaps a fawn," came from Bluff as he hurried forward.
"No, it's a full-grown deer, all right, and just killed, too. They run very small down here, you know. But that doesn't tell us where our chum is, even if he shot the game, and had to fire three times in order to down it," declared Frank.
"As sure as you live, here's his gun!" cried Bluff.
Frank stared at the rifle, that lay at the foot of a particularly big live-oak, parts of which seemed to be rotting away, as there were dead limbs strewing the ground underneath it. Then he cast his eyes upward, as if under the impression that he might discover Jerry perched upon a limb, laughing at them.
"He isn't up there. I've examined every limb on the old tree. What under the sun do you suppose could have happened to him?" ejaculated Bluff.
"Hark!" said Frank, holding up his hand.
"He's laughing at us! I tell you that was Jerry's chuckle, for all the world! Now, what tomfoolery is he up to, do you suppose? Bringing us ashore through all that beastly water just to have a shy at us! Hi, Jerry, you old joker! Show up!" cried Bluff indignantly.
The only answer was a second laugh, louder than the first.
"I declare he's up in that blessed tree, after all, and yet for the life of me I can't get a squint at him. Serve the old chap right if we went and took the dinghy back, leaving him to wade," grumbled Bluff.
Frank was looking around him. He noticed several little things just then. Among others was the fact that there were scratches on the bark of the big old oak, as though some one might have scrambled up its trunk recently. An air-plant lay on the ground, evidently detached during the progress of that party.
"I'm beginning to smell a rat," Frank said, slowly.
"Then let me in, please. I'm just devoured with curiosity to know what it all means," pleaded his chum.
"Listen! Don't you hear a strange buzzing up there?" demanded Frank.
"Now that you mention it, I believe I do. Sounds to me like a hive of bees."
"That's just what it is, and Jerry knew it as soon as he heard it. A hive
of bees in this old live-oak, with perhaps a big store of honey laid up.
Bluff, doesn't that tickle your palate? Well, it did Jerry's, for sure.
He climbed up!"
"After he had shot that deer, then?" asked Bluff.
"Undoubtedly. I remember, now, that honey always appealed to Jerry more than any other sweet stuff. He was remarking, only the last time we had flapjacks, that it was a beastly blunder we had none of us thought to bring a bottle of honey along."
"But he isn't up there, now, for I can see the whole tree. Still he keeps on chuckling. I can't make it out, Frank. But you know, for I see it in your face! Where is Jerry?"
Frank deliberately rapped on the trunk of the big oak.
"Hello, Jerry! Anybody at home in there?" he called.
"Only a stranger and a pilgrim, who wants to get out the worst way, and can't," came in a muffled voice.
Bluff gave a roar of amazement.
"Why, he's inside the tree!" he ejaculated.
"Just what he is. Stepped on some punky, rotten wood above there, that must have given way under his weight, and our fine chum shot down into the hollow trunk of the big king," laughed Frank.
"Correct, Frank. Just how it happened. I've tried again and again to climb up to that hole where I came in, but the plagued walls are too slippery, and I fell back every time. Please mount the tree, and lower a coat or something for me to get a grip on," came in muffled tones to their ears.
Both Frank and Bluff rolled upon the ground with shrieks of laughter. If the sounds of their merriment carried to the ears of Will, he must have been greatly mystified as to the cause of the same.
But Jerry was getting impatient.
"Hurry up, and get to work! It ain't over nice in here, I tell you," he called; and so the two climbed up the tree to effect his rescue.
Bluff had a coat, so they lowered that by a sleeve, stretching down as far as possible. Jerry managed to scramble up far enough to lay hold on the other sleeve, and was, after one or two efforts, assisted to the opening. He came out looking a bit dilapidated, yet just as determined as ever to get some of that honey before leaving the vicinity.
The others were not averse to laying in a supply of the same, and promised to arrange it for the morning, for night was now close at hand, and nothing could be done looking to an attack upon the bee tree.
They carried the doe down to the water's edge. Jerry had come upon the animal soon after entering among the trees, and she had startled him by her sudden jump, so that it took three shots from his rifle to drop her. Then, as he stood over his game, the buzzing of the bees had attracted his attention, as the late comers arrived, laden with honey; and unable to resist the inclination to investigate, he had climbed up, with the disastrous result as stated.
Bluff and Frank waded out to the motor-boat, allowing Jerry to ferry his venison in the little dinghy. Will greeted their coming with delight, for he saw great possibilities for future feasts in the game acquired.
Of course he was wild to hear the story, which was told amid much merriment all around while they dined off fresh venison steak and scalloped oysters.
CHAPTER XX
LYING IN AMBUSH FOR BIG GAME
"Nobody lives in that old shack, then?" inquired Will.
"Only when the turtle season is on, which doesn't happen to be now," replied Frank.
"I was afraid there might be a bunch of criminals ashore, and that Jerry had tumbled into a peck of trouble," continued the other.
"Oh, it happened to be only a hollow tree he dropped into," said the hero of the adventure, who could take a joke even when it happened to be on himself.
"There it goes again! Just think what beastly luck! I'm a Jonah, that's what! Oh! why didn't you ask me to go, instead of Bluff, Frank? I could have snapped him off when he was crawling out of that hole. Just think what a lovely reminder it would have been in times to come!" wailed Will, pretending to be bitterly disappointed, though Frank imagined he was assuming this to tantalize Jerry.
"Talk to me about your artistic temperament! What d'ye call that? Me crawling out of that old bee tree make a beautiful picture! Yes, I guess it might, for the rest of you, but I'm satisfied to let the episode die a natural death. But wait till we fill up our spare pots and pans with that delicious honey! Um! um!" And Jerry smacked his lips as he contemplated the feast in store.
They spent the night quietly enough. Nothing occurred to bother them, save the one annoyance they experienced from sandflies. The tiny creatures attacked them as soon as the breeze died out, and for an hour or two proved irritating in the extreme.
Bluff executed a war dance as he slapped at his invisible persecutors, and wondered if he were going into a fever, his face and neck and arms burned so. Luckily, a night breeze coming up, drove the horde of tiny insects away, but for several days the boys were rubbing and scratching at the irritated skin.
"'Skeeters ain't in it with the little pests!" vowed Jerry, and the whole party seemed to be of the same opinion.
After an early breakfast they made preparations looking to a raid on the rich stores of the bee tree. An old piece of netting was made into nets, so as to cover their faces, while gloves protected their hands fairly well.
Jerry took them ashore, all but Bluff, who elected to stay by the boat.
The others jeered him, and declared that he was afraid of stings; but
Bluff was not to be taunted into going.
Joe, who had been up a bee tree before, offered to ascend, and do the work. So the balance of the party were only too glad of the chance to escape that duty.
The hive was in a big limb that jutted out just above where Jerry had crashed through a rotten place marking the spot where another limb had broken off long years before.
"It looks easy. I reckon I can chop her some, and she'll drop of her own weight," called the boy.
He began to use the small camp ax with telling effect. After half an hour of this there was an ominous crack.
"Look sharp, down there! She's a-comin'!" called Joe.
Hardly had he spoken than the limb came down with a roar. Instantly the air was filled with a swarm of thousands of dazed bees. The limb had split open from the concussion, and a wonderful store of honey was displayed to view. Jerry was wild with delight.
"Gallons and gallons of the lovely stuff!" he shouted. "Come on, fellows, and get the pails filled! Ouch! That little imp got me, all right! Say! he's inside my veil! Whoop! There's another! I must have left an opening!" And for a minute or so he danced around madly, slapping and pawing, until he had managed to dispose of the furious insects.
By the time he had adjusted his net the others were busy at work.
"Take only the lighter-colored honey. That dark stuff is old, though I suppose it's all good still. We can't use a fifth of what there is. I imagine I know what will happen around here to-night," said Frank.
Joe looked up and grinned.
"Bear come, sure. Smell the honey a mile away," he remarked, and Frank nodded.
"And if we were wild to get a bear, all we'd have to do would be to sit here and wait," remarked Will, who had, of course, snapped off a few views while his chums were busy, particularly remembering Jerry while he pranced around and fought the busy bees that had invaded his head net.
"I leave that to the rest," remarked Frank.
Having secured all the honey they could carry away, they once more returned to the shore, and by degrees their sweet cargo was ferried out to the motor-boat. Of course, more or less washing up followed, for they were all sticky.
"What is it to be, fellows—go, or stay over?" asked Frank a little later.
Bluff had been told about the chances for bagging a bear, but he did not seem to care much about it.
"I say go on," he remarked indifferently.
"Bear for me," declared Jerry.
"How about you, Will?" asked Frank.
"Oh, I'm with Bluff this time. If it was in the daytime, now, and I thought I could get a picture of the shoot, I might look at it differently."
"You happen to have run out of flashlight cartridges, then? That's too bad! Well, I side with Jerry," remarked Frank, smiling.
"But that makes it a tie. We'll have to toss for it, fellows," came from
Will.
"You forget Joe, here. Let him cast the deciding vote. How, Joe?"
The boy grinned, and looked affectionately at Frank.
"I like bear steak," he said simply.
"Hurrah! That settles it, then!" shouted Jerry.
They just loafed through that day.
"Take it easy, boys. Strenuous times may be ahead of us yet. Who knows? Besides, we are doing finely. Half the time gone, and we're surely more than half way along our journey, counting the river trip. We can easily spare the day." And Frank set each to amusing himself after his own particular fashion.
Jerry went in the dinghy to try the fishing where the water was deeper, and it was not half an hour before they heard him yelling with delight as his little shallop was being towed around this way and that by a fish.
"Another shark! He'd better cut loose!" exclaimed Will, in some alarm.
Joe shook his head.
"No shark this time. I think he has got fast to a big channel bass. It runs and then stops, then runs again. Shark keeps on all the while," he explained.
It proved to be the case, for when Jerry came back he proudly exhibited a monster bronze-backed prize that must have weighed more than thirty pounds.
Of course it was hung up, and a picture taken, with the gallant victor in the contest standing alongside, stout rod in hand.
So the evening came at last, and they turned their thoughts to big game.
Will and Bluff were elected to remain on board, as a penance for having voted against staying over.
"We'll stand for that, all right; but if you should keel over a Bruin, don't you fellows think we're going to let you fool us out of our share of the prog," said Bluff.
It took two trips of the dinghy to land the three hunters. Of course, Joe had only gone along to see the fun, for he had no gun.
Still, he was capable of advancing some good suggestions, calculated to be of value to them while lying in ambush for the expected bear. It was to be expected, for instance, that Bruin would make his appearance from the dense thicket beyond the bee tree, so the boys hid themselves in a semicircle, with the broken honey storehouse in plain view.
A fire had been started at a little distance, for otherwise they must have been in absolute darkness. Joe said a little thing like that would not keep the bear from coming after he had gotten a good whiff of the powerful odor of sweetness that filled the air.
The bees had been hard at work carrying a portion of their store to some new hive, but there were gallons of it still there. Everything was smeared with the sticky substance, and Frank felt sure that if a bear existed within miles of the spot that odor would be a magnet to draw the animal straight to the spot.
Talking was positively prohibited, and all the boys could do was to sit as still as the hovering mosquitoes would allow, and watch.
Once or twice, Frank thought he heard a slight rustling somewhere near. It was not what a lumbering bear would be apt to make, however, and he concluded that in all probability it must be caused by prowling 'coons.
For the third time he felt positive that his ear had caught a sound, as of a stealthy movement. To his surprise, it seemed to come from the tree under which he had taken up his station. So he naturally bent his head back in the effort to locate the little animal that must be curiously observing him.
A thrill passed through his frame as he first of all caught sight of two yellow eyes that glared at him not more than ten feet above his head. Then he could make out a dark body, about five feet in length, and with something moving back and forth at its extreme end.
Frank caught his breath, and his hands clutched the gun he held. He did not need any one to tell him that he was gazing up at a panther, crouching overhead, and possibly getting ready to leap down upon him at any second!
CHAPTER XXI
A STRENUOUS NIGHT
Fortunately, Frank was a quick-witted boy.
He had his gun held in such a position that it required only a simple movement to swing it upward. To aim, under the conditions, was out of the question. He had to depend entirely upon guesswork, or what might be called intuition.
Imagine the astonishment of the others, crouching close by, when a flash of flame pierced the darkness, and the crash of Frank's gun was instantly followed by a fierce scream in which both pain and fury were mingled!
Frank had no sooner fired than he threw himself backward. Knowing something about the habits of these animals, he understood that the panther would make its leap, no matter how seriously it might be wounded.
Frank did not claim to be an acrobat, but he certainly made a record for himself in the line of back tumbling.
"Who shot?" shouted Jerry in amazement.
"Where's the bear?" came from Joe, equally amazed and confused.
Frank had by this time managed to scramble to his feet. He was somewhat scratched, and would perhaps feel a bit sore from his tremendous effort, but his heart beat high with anticipation when he realized that all was still in the quarter where he had been snugly lying.
"Stir up the fire, Jerry, and fetch a torch here!" he called, holding himself in readiness for another shot, if such should be needed.
"You just bet I will!" cried the other, bounding forward.
Frank saw him give the smoldering fire a kick that started it into new life. Then, bending over, he snatched a brand and came running back.
"Where are you, Frank? What under the sun happened? Not hurt, are you?" was what he was singing out, his voice trembling with eagerness and anxiety.
"Everything all right, Jerry. Come this way. Now poke the blaze over yonder."
Jerry gave a shout.
"Something's moving! It's kicking its last, by the great horn spoon! Frank's got his bear—no, I'll be hanged if it is! A panther, Joe, a panther!"
He stood there like a statue, holding the torch and staring at the sleek gray form stretched out under the tree, and which was, in fact, giving the very last kick, as he had declared.
Frank laughed, a little hysterically, it may be assumed, for the strain on his nerves had been tremendous.
"Unexpected visitor, eh, Jerry? Didn't send out an invitation to this slippery gentleman, did we? But he insisted on joining the family circle, and I just had to ask him in," he said, trying to steady his voice, while, unseen by Jerry, his hands were shaking as he clutched his gun.
"Tell me about that, will you! Oh, yes, he came, all right. That was a warm invitation he couldn't resist. But how did you see him, Frank? Where was the sly old cat? Say! he must have jumped for you, I guess, for that was just where you were squatting!"
Frank shuddered as he saw that this was true. Only for his quick action in vacating his position he must have been torn by the poisonous claws of the dying beast.
"He was sitting just above my head, on that limb there," he remarked quietly.
"Talk to me about your cute ones, what could equal that? Do you think the old slinker was there all the time?" demanded Jerry, shaking his head.
"Oh, no. That is out of the question. Our coming must have alarmed him if he had been so close by. I imagine he crept through the trees while we lay here waiting, like so many mummies."
"I say, Frank, do panthers like honey?" demanded the other.
"Well, now, you've got me there. Never having had any experience in that line, I'm in the dark. How about it, Joe?" laughed Frank.
"I never heard of one that did. S'pect he was snoopin' around to see what we was a-doin' here. Then there was the smell of the blood from the deer, you know," explained the Florida boy wisely.
"Why, of course! That's it. But I say, Frank, do we cut out the bear hunt now?"
"That's for you to say. I've had my shot, but if you're satisfied to stay, why, count on me to keep you company."
"I had my heart set on bear steak. The only thing is, will old Bruin come now, after all this rumpus?" said Jerry disconsolately.
"If half that I've heard about his liking for wild honey is true, a dozen rackets like that couldn't keep him away. Joe, you know. Tell us if that isn't so?" asked Frank.
"Oh, he'll come, all right, if he smells that honey," returned the boy confidently.
"That settles it, then. We stay a while, at any rate," declared Frank.
Jerry was secretly pleased. Perhaps he did have a little streak of envy in his composition, for it galled him to have others succeed in his beloved sport while fortune denied him a fair share of the honors. But, taken all in all, Jerry was square enough, and would quickly change places with a companion in a boat when it appeared that all the fish were lying at his end.
Frank moved his position a little. Then they settled down to wait. Of course, every one of the three boys cast rather frequent and apprehensive glances up into the branches overhead. Sometimes these panthers hunted in pairs, and how were they to tell but what the mate to Frank's victim might be even then watching for a chance to leap down upon them?
An hour passed. Then Jerry heard a grunting sound somewhere close by. It was accompanied by a rustling in the bushes.
His pulses thrilled, while Joe, who had taken up a position alongside him after the adventure with the panther, put out a hand and nudged Jerry several times.
"Bear!" he said, in the lowest of whispers.
Again and again came the grunting and the swishing of bushes. Bruin was sniffing the delightful aroma of honey. It was so strong that his usual caution was apparently thrown to the winds, and he pushed forward straight toward the spot where the broken tree hive had scattered much of its delicious contents over the ground.
Now Jerry could see his bulky figure as he shuffled forward with eager mien. The repeating rifle began to come up, though Jerry was in no hurry to fire. He wanted to get a fair view of the animal's side, so that he could bring Bruin down with a single shot.
They could hear the beast grunting in delight as he started in to devour some of the bees' rich treasure. Perhaps he had long cast an envious eye on that same tree hive, and hoped for the time to come when a storm might lay it low.
Frank held his fire generously. He could have shot the bear several times, and with the buckshot shells that were in his gun had no fear about killing his game with ease; but it was really Jerry's turn.
Finally came the sharp report. They saw the bear roll over, try to stagger up again, struggle vehemently, and then gradually grow weaker.
"Hurrah, Jerry! He's your bag!" shouted Frank, as genuinely happy as though it had been his own shot that did the business; perhaps more so.
"Oh! what a night! Bring on your bears and panthers, your crocodiles and tomcats!" cried Jerry. "We can take care of a whole menagerie. Talk to me about your hunting preserves! Did you ever meet up with anything that equals this?"
Realizing that the boys on board the motorboat must be consumed with eagerness to know what the result of these two shots might be, Frank now proposed that they go aboard.
"We want some sleep, you see. In the morning we'll be able to attend to these fellows. I guess nothing will bother them until then," he said.
He and Joe entered the little dinghy, and it was ferried across the water to the anchored boat. There they were met by both Will and Bluff, who, being aroused by the first shot, had sat there, swathed in blankets, watching for the return of the mighty Nimrods.
"What luck?" called Bluff, evidently repenting that he had not accompanied them.
"Oh, Jerry got his bear, all right," sang out Frank indifferently, while he kept on pushing the smaller boat closer to the other.
"But didn't you shoot? Will declared it was your shotgun that awoke us first—it must have been hours ago," went on Bluff curiously.
"Why, yes. I had a shot at a gray visitor who threatened to jump down on me from the tree." And Frank began climbing aboard so that Joe could go back after the other chum.
"What! Do you mean a panther?" burst out Bluff.
"Sure! Wait till you see the chap, in the morning. Looks like a dandy," replied Frank, trying to appear unconcerned.
"Then you got him?"
"It was a case of getting him before he got me." And then, taking pity on the boys, who were fairly burning with eagerness to hear, he told how he had happened to discover the crouching beast that had crept into the tree without their knowledge.
Presently Jerry came aboard. Both of the hunters, as well as young Joe, were too sleepy for further conversation.
"You'll see it all in the morning. And Will, we can hang up the game so that you'll have a fine shot at the scene, bee tree and all. Every time we look at it our mouths will water at the thought of all that fine honey going to waste," and with this parting remark Frank crawled under his blanket.
Nothing happened to disturb the outdoor chums during the balance of the night. With the coming of morning they were astir. Breakfast was a hurried meal. Then they went ashore in detachments, Joe remaining behind to look after the boat.
Will managed to get a good picture of the trophies, with the two gallant hunters standing beside the defunct bear and panther. Then, after the former had been washed, being sticky with the honey, Frank assisted Jerry to get the skin off. It was here the boys profited by the advice given by the old trapper, Jesse Wilcox, when they visited him in his camp above Rocky Creek, which was a feeder to the lake upon which their home town was located.
Before noon they were all aboard again. Both skins had been secured, besides the choice portions of the bear meat. Bluff even managed to fill another kettle with the honey, though stung unmercifully by the angry bees that were so busily working to transfer their stores to a new home.
After a bite of lunch they started out again on the gulf, since the conditions invited an afternoon cruise. Frank knew they would find a good holding place not more than twenty miles further along the shore, and he aimed to reach it before the coming of night.
It was just four o'clock when they pushed in behind another key and made their way to the mainland, for here the water was quite deep.
"I move for a camp ashore, for a change," suggested Jerry.
"Second that motion. My back's nearly broken from these hard boards," grunted Bluff. "Oh, dear! If we only had our air mattresses along, Frank!"
"Yes, if we only had!" exclaimed Jerry. "Then you'd soon quit claiming that you had bigger lungs than I've got. You know I beat you in blowing up my bag."
"Yes, just once more than I came in winner. Isn't that so, Frank?"
Frank poured oil on the troubled waters, but he and Will winked at each other, for the joke always amused them.
They erected the tent, and had their jolly campfire, which reminded them of many in the past. It was, of course, thought a good thing to secure the boat with chain and padlock, so that no prowling scamp could make off with it while they slept, for they meant to keep no watch.
Joe found a place on board, as there was no room in the tent. Besides, he had not a temperament that delighted in such things, and would only too gladly have always felt sure of having a good roof over him at night.
The four boys were a bit crowded. Still, they joked over the thing as they settled down, and after a time only the glow of the still burning fire told that human beings were somewhere near by.
They slept soundly, despite the close quarters, since the air was cool, and, for a wonder, no mosquitoes worried them. Those who were dreaming must have imagined the end of the world had suddenly arrived, for the tent was, without the least warning, knocked down, leaving the four amazed boys scrambling and shouting under the canvas, and trying to crawl out from the wreckage.
CHAPTER XXII
THE MESSAGE FROM THE AIR
"What struck us?" And Bluff poked his head out from under the canvas, looking for all the world like a tortoise, Frank thought, as he followed suit.
"Tell me about that, will you! Where's the villain who cut the ropes? I can whip him with one hand!" panted Jerry, struggling in a mess of camp necessities, and kicking around among the aluminum ware that Frank prized so highly.
"Where's my camera? Some fellow has run off with my camera!" wailed Will.
By this time Frank had extricated himself from the wreckage and began to assist the others to regain their feet. No one seemed to be seriously injured, and the mystery was great. What had happened to smash down their tent in that strange way?
"The ropes were never cut, fellows!" announced Bluff, after a hasty examination.
"Something fell on us, that's what!" observed Jerry, shaking that wise head of his in his obstinate fashion as he surveyed the ruins of the tent.
Frank seized upon the idea quickly.
"I believe you've struck the truth, Jerry!" he exclaimed.
"Then it must have been a shooting-star or a piece off a comet," said
Will.
"Not much. I am sure I heard voices calling out, and laughing over the joke. I tell you somebody's playing a nasty trick on us, that's what!" declared Bluff.
"Voices, did you say? Are you sure?" demanded Frank, stopping in his fumbling around the tent, while Jerry was throwing some dead palmetto leaves on the fire to induce a speedy blaze, so that they might have more light.
"Yes, I'm sure; and they were out there, too," continued Bluff, pointing beyond the motor-boat.
"I heard 'em, too!" called Joe, at this juncture, as his head appeared in view above the combing of the craft.
"Out on the bayou?" asked Frank, anxious to solve the strange mystery.
"Sure! And there was something like the creaking of sails, too. But I don't think they was makin' fun of us. I kinder thought one of 'em called out somethin' that sounded like, 'Help us!'" went on Joe breathlessly.
"Talk to me about your mysteries! Who ever ran up against a worse one than this?" gasped Jerry, scratching his head, as he shivered in the cool air.
"What time is it, anyhow?" demanded Will, who had now found his camera, and was feeling satisfied, because it did not appear to have sustained any injury.
"Time? I declare if that isn't dawn in the east, fellows! Time we were up, I guess," remarked Frank, stooping over again, determined to learn the secret of the sudden and violent collapse of the tent, accompanied by such strange whispering voices that seemed to die away in the distance.
"Well, all I can say is that if dawn comes with such a swoop down in this blessed country, it's me back to my native heath again," grumbled Jerry, who had received a few bruises in the mix-up. Up to now he had paid no attention to them, but they were beginning to make themselves manifest.
"What's this?"
Frank uttered the cry as he bent over and stared at something which he had discovered under the canvas.
"Hold on! I've got my gun handy!" exclaimed Bluff, thinking that if it were a wild animal his time had come to distinguish himself.
"Oh! What is it?" echoed Will, crowding near.
The fire was now leaping madly up as the tinder-like dried palmetto leaves and stalks caught, so that every one could easily see.
"Why, it's a bag!—a big bean bag!" exclaimed Will, in amazement. "Where, in the name of goodness, did that come from, fellows?"
"A bean bag! Tell me about that, will you?" said Jerry. And then, as he bent over to clutch hold of it, he went on: "Why, as sure as you live, it's a sand bag! Who ever could have shied that thing at us and then run away?"
Frank was more than startled. He had seen just such bags before, and filled with sand, too. He knew to what uses they were put.
"Say! What do you think, that bag is ballast from a balloon or airship?" he cried.
"Ballast!"
"From an airship!"
The four outdoor chums stood there and stared, first at each other and then at the suspicious bag that lay there on the canvas. There could be no mistake about its contents, for one seam had broken, and the sand was trickling out even now.
"Then a balloon passed over us in the night, and they threw out a sand bag to lighten her! What do you think of that?" gasped Jerry, as if hardly able to grasp the strangeness of the affair.
"Why would they want to lighten her?" asked Bluff.
Frank was quick to perceive facts.
"Listen, fellows! Joe, here, says the voices were out yonder, toward the key, and that they gradually grew less distinct. That would happen, you know, if a balloon were gradually drifting out toward the open gulf."
"Tell me about that, now! Do you really think they were being run away with?" asked Jerry in a tense tone, as he tried to picture the alarm that must overwhelm aeronauts under such conditions.
"Didn't Joe say he was sure he heard some one cry out, 'Help us'? Wouldn't that indicate danger for the balloonists? I tell you what, boys, this was the most remarkable thing that ever happened to us. To think that the sand bag, and maybe an anchor, knocked our tent down with a smash, and didn't kill or seriously injure a single one of us beats the record! But I'm sorry for those fellows, though."
"So am I, Frank. I wish we could do something to help them," remarked
Will.
"Couldn't we put out right away? They may fall into the gulf any minute, and be drowned! Say! Why not go, Frank?" pursued Jerry.
"Get some clothes on, the first thing, fellows. We're not going back to bed again now, anyway. The dawn is surely coming on, and we could get out on the gulf in a short time, if we concluded to try it."
They had left their outer garments aboard the motor-boat, so that it was easy enough to find them now. Hastily they dressed, all the while chattering like a lot of magpies. But it might have been noticed that every one was in favor of doing something to assist the drifting balloonists, who had apparently gone out to sea in a helpless airship.
Frank was dressed a little before any of the rest. Something seemed to have come into his mind, for he hurried ashore again, as if bent upon examining the sand bag once more.
"What's he up to?" asked Bluff, for the daylight was now growing strong enough for them to see to some extent.
"Wants to look at that bean bag of Will's again, I guess. Perhaps he thinks we may have a good supper off the contents," jeered Jerry.
"Now I think he expects to get a clue, somehow. Perhaps there may be a name sewed on the old bag. Seems to me, balloonists do that, so the people below may report their passing over, especially when there's a race on," remarked Will calmly.
"And that's just what he's up to," declared Bluff, "for you see he's turning the bag over now. There! He's struck something, by the way he grabs! It's a letter, fellows, as sure as you live!"
"A letter from the skies! Tell me about that, will you!" whistled Jerry as he bounded ashore and hurried to join Frank.
"What's doing?" he asked anxiously, as he came to where the other was standing, staring at the piece of paper he held in his hand.
"Remarkable! Who would ever have believed it?" Frank was saying.
"Well, please take pity on the rest of us, and let us have a little light," Will broke out with.
"It came from the Kentucky, fellows!" Frank observed, shaking his head, as if he could hardly believe his senses.
"That was the name of the balloon our good friend, Professor Jason Smythe, expected to pilot in the drift from Atlanta to Savannah, to test the air currents."
This from Jerry, who was equally amazed.
"How do you know?" asked Bluff, of course, since he never accepted anything without abundant proof.
"The name is sewed on the bag. I found it underneath. But there was something more, boys—this letter, written, with others of the same kind, and sent down in the hope that one of them might fall into the hands of some person who would notify the government station at Pensacola or Cedar Keys."
"Read it to us, Frank!"
"Yes, don't keep us in suspense. Besides, if we're going to do anything, we'd better not waste so much time here," Jerry remarked wisely.
"Then listen. Here is what it says, scribbled so that I can hardly make it out:
* * * * *
"'On board the balloon Kentucky, and drifting toward the gulf. Our valve refuses to work, and we dare not attempt to land in the dark. Ballast nearly gone. We fear we may be swept out to sea. Please notify station at Pensacola to send assistance—a tug, if possible. We may keep afloat a short time if we fall into the gulf.
"'JASON SMYTHE.'"
* * * * *
The boys looked awed at the remarkable coincidence of that sand bag, possibly thrown out at random, striking their tent; and they who knew the professor so well.
"But, come, fellows! We must be off! Leave these few things here till we get back. To save that daring aeronaut's life I'd sacrifice ten times as much!" cried Frank as he leaped aboard the boat and started the motor, while the others tore loose the two remaining hawsers.
CHAPTER XXIII
A DASH UPON THE GULF
"How About it, Frank? Ought all of us to go?" asked Jerry.
"Do you think any one wants to remain behind?" asked the party addressed.
"Speaking for myself, nothing could induce me to stay," came the reply.
"So say we all of us," declared Bluff, who had overheard the question.
"Besides, I think it wise that we stick together. If anything should happen that we couldn't come back here, it wouldn't matter much. You see, we've been able to tumble most of our stuff aboard in a scramble. It can be straightened out as we go. All ready, Jerry?" questioned Frank, as the other gave a shout.
"All ready! Get aboard, and start her. It's light enough to see, now. Oh!
I only hope we can find the professor!" cried Jerry as he embarked.
"If Fortune is kind, we must, boys. Now we're off!"
With these words, firmly spoken, Frank opened up, and the power-boat began to move through the water. Fortunately, it was deep in this shelter, so that they could make decent speed from the beginning. Had they anchored in such a shallow bayou as their last stopping place, it must have taken an hour to get clear of the various oyster bars, running out in finger-like ridges from the shore.
Presently they cleared the point of land marking the upper end of the sheltering key, and the limitless gulf lay before them.
Morning was now rapidly advancing. The far eastern heavens had begun to take on a beautiful rosy flush, such as can be seen in no place in the wide world to better advantage than in Florida, of a winter's morning.
Every eye was instantly engaged in scouring that expanse of water, searching eagerly for a sign of the castaway balloonists. Frank even had his marine glasses leveled, and, first of all, scanned the horizon, hoping that possibly the air craft might have been able to keep afloat thus far through strenuous methods known to such a veteran sky pilot as the professor.
He was disappointed, however, for the only things that met his gaze were a few white gulls.
"What's that floating on the water over yonder, Frank?" demanded sharp-eyed Will, pointing down the coast a little.
A thrill passed through every heart. Had the lost air voyagers been sighted, and would they be rescued, after all?
Frank had his glasses focussed upon the object almost instantly.
"Too bad, fellows! Only a bunch of brown pelicans floating on the sea and waiting until breakfast time comes around," he said at once.
A chorus of remarks indicative of disappointment followed. Meantime, as the speed of the boat was rushed up to near the limit of twelve miles, and they fairly flew over the comparatively smooth gulf, each boy continued to scan the water, hoping to be the first to report success.
"How long since they passed over, do you think?" asked practical Bluff.
"I should say all of an hour," was Frank's ready response.
"One good thing, there wasn't any sort of a breeze. If it had been blowing fairly hard, the balloon would be twenty miles away by now, even if afloat."
"That's a fact Bluff; and as there wasn't an air current of more than a few miles an hour, one thing seems positive."
"What's that, Frank?" demanded Jerry.
"The balloon must have dropped into the water. If it was still in the air it could be seen through these powerful glasses miles away."
The others recognized the truth of his words.
"You seem to be heading straight out. Have you any reason for such a thing?" asked Bluff, seeking information.
"I have. Before we started I carefully noted my bearings. I also made sure that what little air was stirring came direct from the land, which, in this case, was almost due east. You can easily see from that which way the balloon must have drifted up to the minute it dragged in the water."
"Frank, what you say is sound, practical good sense. We must come on some sign in a short time, if we keep straight on and the conditions remain the same. I'm only afraid we may be too late," remarked Jerry sadly.
No one else spoke for several minutes as the motor-boat sped merrily along on her mission of mercy. It was a time of great strain. They hoped for the best, and yet were conscious of a terrible fear lest the professor and his assistant might have gone down long ere this.
"The breeze is freshening," remarked Bluff presently.
Frank had noted this, too. It was only natural, for after dawn the air currents that may have become sluggish during the night were in the habit of awakening and taking on new life.
He looked back. The land was several miles away by this time. If they were fated to meet with success in their errand, something must be showing up very soon now.
Sick at heart with apprehension, Frank handed the glasses over to Jerry, and was pretending to pay strict attention to the motor. Truth to tell, his nerves were keyed up to a high tension, as he counted the seconds, and kept hoping for the best.
Frank had noted one thing that gave him not a little concern. This was in connection with the fact that the easterly breeze seemed to have bobbed around to the southwest. Now, from all that he had heard this was a quarter that nearly always brings one of those howling "northers" that prove such a bane to Florida cruisers.
"How about that, Joe—is the fact that the wind is in the southwest apt to bring bad weather?" he asked, when he could get the cracker lad aside; for Frank did not wish to further alarm his chums.
"Most always that happens. When the wind rises now, unless she goes back once again to the south, you see she will be squally," returned Joe, also lowering his voice cautiously.
"And that squally wind develops into something stronger, I guess?" pursued the Northern boy, always seeking to learn.
"It jumps around to the northwest like a pompano skipping along the water in a shoal. Then for three days it blows like a railroad train, out of the north, and we all shiver," was the characteristic reply.
"Well, I only hope the squall part of it holds off until we pick up the poor professor. We saved him once from the fire, and now it seems up to us to pull him in out of the wet, if we have any decent sort of luck."
Noting the look of surprise on the little fellow's brown face, and realizing that he was totally ignorant in connection with what his words meant, Frank proceeded to tell how the hotel in Centerville was burned, and what a part Jerry and himself had had in the rescue of the balloonist, who had taken a sleeping powder, and lay in his room, unconscious of the tumult and peril.
Jerry meanwhile was making as good use of the marine glasses as he knew how.
"See anything that looks like the wreckage of a balloon on the water?" asked Frank, as he swept the horizon with his naked eye, but in vain.
"Not a beastly thing," returned the other, in a disappointed tone.
"Oh, I'm afraid we've come in the wrong direction," sighed tender-hearted Will, shaking his head dubiously; "and it's just terrible to think that those poor chaps may be drowning right now, and our little boat so near at hand!"
"Tell me about that, will you? There he goes as usual, making us feel like murderers or something, when we only want a chance to get in our fine rescuing act. Stop him talking that way, Frank, won't you?" pleaded Bluff, who had emptied all the sand out of the bag dropped by the drifting balloonists, and declared he meant to hang the same up in his den at home as a memento of the wonderful incident.
Frank stood up to see the better.
Carefully he scanned the horizon, beginning at the furthest possible quarter toward the south, and ranging to one equally improbable northward.
And everywhere it seemed to be the same dead level line, with not a break that gave signs of promise.
"And the strange thing about it all is that there doesn't seem to be a solitary vessel, big or little, in sight anywhere. It would be hard at any other time to find the gulf around here so utterly forsaken," he remarked, beginning to feel discouraged himself.
"It certainly looks as though we had the field to ourselves," remarked Bluff; "here we've come some miles from shore, which is getting 'hull-down,' as the sailors say, in the distance, and yet not a peep of the lost balloonists. How much further ought we go, Frank?"
"Just as long as there seems to be the slightest chance of our striking those we're looking for, or we can see shore with the glasses. I, for one, would never be satisfied to give up, and then later on feel that we might have found them if we'd only kept out another mile or two."
"My sentiments, exactly," declared Will, who possessed a tender heart, as his chums knew from experience.
So the time crept on.
Frank was bending above the motor, but all the while he kept one eye over his shoulder on the bow of the boat where his chum stood, still sweeping the sea ahead with the marine glasses.
In fact, every one aboard seemed to have his gaze focussed on Jerry by this time, as though he might be the one to decide whether the hunt had better be abandoned right then and there, or kept up still longer.
And Frank almost held his breath awaiting the verdict.
Suddenly he saw Jerry start, and screw the glasses more eagerly to his eyes, as he craned his neck to see the better. With the increasing wind the waves had commenced to rise a little, consequently any floating object might at times be difficult to discern.
"I had a glimpse of something then, fellows! But, after all, it might have been another bunch of old pelicans!" he exclaimed.
"Not that. Pelicans would not be so far out. They hug pretty close to the shore, where the water is more shallow, and the fish come in to feed. Still, it may have been the fin of a shark cutting the water like that one—" started Frank, when Jerry interrupted him:
"There it is again! As sure as you live, I believe it's a man clinging to some sort of wreckage! Here, take the glasses, Frank! Right over there, dead ahead! Now be ready! There! See?"
"It is a man! Yes—two of them! Fellows, we are in time!" cried Frank.
"Hurrah!" the others shouted in chorus.
And the breeze, coming off shore, must have carried that volume of cheering sound to the ears of the almost despairing balloonists as they clung there to the wreck of their disabled air craft, possibly arranged to float for a time if it dropped into the sea.
"Yes. There! I can see one of them waving his hand! Give the poor chaps another shout, boys! This is great luck for us!" exclaimed Frank, and his own sturdy voice helped to swell the sound that rolled over the water.
If it was a happy moment for the rescuers, imagine the feelings of the two who clung there, expecting that every minute might see them without any support, as the waterlogged balloon sank under them!
Fast though the motor-boat was shooting through the waves, she seemed to fairly crawl, such was the impatience of the young voyagers.
So they swept alongside the floating balloonists. When Professor Smythe discovered the identity of those who were coming to his aid his astonishment knew no bounds. It was the most remarkable coincidence he could remember meeting with in an adventurous career extending over many years.
"Was that your camp we passed over, a little while back?" he asked, as, having been helped aboard, and some instruments being passed up by his assistant, he helped the latter to crawl over the gunwale of the motor-boat.
"Just what it was," laughed Frank, "and you came near wrecking us, too.
The sand bag struck the tent, and carried it down in a heap."
"Incredible! And yet that very fact goes to prove my assertion that in war time dynamite could be easily dropped into a fortress by means of a dirigible balloon, or an aeroplane. That was a happy thought of mine to send a message. Only I hope none of you brave boys received any injury!" cried the professor.
"Luckily not. But what is to be done with this wreckage?" asked Frank.
"Nothing. It will sink presently. We have secured all our valuable instruments and records. I'm only too happy over escaping from a watery grave. Simms and myself were making up our minds that our time had come when you hove in sight."
"We are heading for Cedar Keys, but in no hurry to get there, professor. What would you like us to do for you?" asked Frank presently, after they had given both men blankets to throw about their shoulders, for the air was "nippy."
"There is smoke on the horizon, to the west I believe it must be a steamer bound for Tampa. Do you think it would be possible to intercept her and put us aboard?" asked the scientist eagerly.
Frank took a look at the weather.
"We'll make a try, anyhow. But to do so we must head straight out, for she will go miles to the south of us," he said.
They sped on for an hour. The land was dim in the distance. It thrilled them to know they were like a speck out in the midst of the great Gulf of Mexico. By now the coast steamer was in plain view, and signals were made for her to stop.
When the captain learned who the two men were, and that he could further the work of the government, he gladly took them aboard; and the last the boys saw of the aeronauts was their waving hats as the steamer went on her way.