As for Arthur, he seemed so engrossed with what he expected to do in taking a number of views calculated to back up their story about the storm, that he paid no attention to anything else. That was the trouble with Arthur; once he got interested in any particular line of work, he threw his whole energies into it, perhaps to the neglect of other equally important matters.
They were soon climbing the trail that led to the scene of their previous adventure. Billy seemed unusually wideawake on this afternoon, and full of animation. His eyes were on the alert all the time, and if there was a squirrel that leaped from one tree to another in making for its hole, a rabbit that suddenly flashed out of sight among the bushes, or a red-headed woodpecker hammering at some rotten treetop, Billy was the one to discover it first of all.
Several times Arthur manifested a disposition to stop and take pictures. There were trees that had been blown down which seemed to offer an inviting field, and might have made good views; but Hugh advised that he “hold his horses” awhile.
“You can take plenty of pictures of fallen trees whenever you feel like it,” the patrol leader told the artist; “and just now you ought to make every film count for the Wolf patrol. Perhaps you may want to snap off several shots at the wreck of the big hollow oak; and then there are the rocks that made us such a fine shelter. They ought to show up just right in this afternoon sun, for they face the west.”
“I do believe you even thought of that when you agreed to the time for this hike, Hugh,” Arthur returned thoughtfully. “It seems to me you just look away ahead pretty much all the time, and figure things out long before they happen.”
“Oh! hardly all that,” laughed Hugh; “and in this case you’re away off, because it never occurred to me until I spoke. But besides those pictures, there may be some other things turn up before we get back that will be worth while snapping. I’ve got a few stunts figured out, you know, that will give you a chance to do some quick work, if you want to finish out a film.”
“We must be getting close to where that old tree went to smash when the lightning struck it, Hugh,” remarked Bud.
“There she is, right ahead there!” cried Billy, before the leader could answer. “And say, boys, let me tell you the wreck looks just as fierce as it did yesterday. I’ve been wondering whether we mightn’t have magnified things a little, seeing we were so worked up over the escape; but just look at the way the limbs are scattered around! It’s going to be a hard thing for you to get a proper focus on all that stuff, Art, and us grouped in the bargain.”
But the experienced photographer had already cast a quick look around, and seemed fully confident that he could manage nicely.
“Plenty of sunlight at this early hour,” he remarked first of all; “but by three o’clock the shadows of those other trees would have bothered me. And now, you fellows stand just by that little open place, where you won’t be in the line of the riven stump. The hole must show that I wanted you to crawl into before the storm broke. After I get you well focussed, I expect to join you. I’ve got an extra long rubber tube, you notice, connected with my rapid drop-shutter; so when we’re all fixed, I’ll press the bulb, and the thing’s done.”
He was very particular how he placed them all, and after he had viewed the scene from under his light-proof cloth, he came back several times to make alterations.
Finally, even the particular artist seemed to be satisfied.
“Nobody move a hand or foot, or more than breathe, till I come back and join you,” he told them, as he hurried to his camera which he had mounted on its tripod. “That’s going to be a Jim Dandy view, I’m giving it to you straight, fellows; and above all, theholeshows up fine. You see, that’s what will gain us points in this game, if anything will, and the committee must be able to tell that the oak tree struck by lightning was hollow, so that they can know how close a call we had. Steady there, Billy Worth; don’t act so frisky. We don’t want to spoil this picture, let me tell you; and I’m going to take a second snap, to make doubly sure of it.”
When the official photographer of the Wolf patrol had rejoined his three waiting chums, he stooped to secure possession of the bulb that completed the long thin line of rubber tubing.
“Now, look natural, everybody!” he remarked. “I’m going to press her. All ready? Here she goes! There, that counts for one snapshot! Now wait here where you are till I turn another exposure, and we’ll make a second picture.”
This was soon accomplished, and Arthur declared that he would have excellent results to show for all their work.
“You’ve got to print a copy for each one of us, too,” remarked Billy seriously. “I’m going to have an enlargement made, which I can frame and hang over the desk in my den at home. Every time I look up at it I’ll remember what it means, and feel thankful that I joined the scouts and that Hugh was along with us! It gives me a cold shiver to think whatmighthave happened if the other three of us had been by ourselves. Neither Bud nor myself would have known enough to put up any objection when you made your bid for shelter, Arthur.”
“Oh! forget that, can’t you?” pleaded Bud. “Let’s move on, fellows, and find something more cheerful to look at than heaps of kindling wood, great splinters, and broken branches every-which-way.”
“Do we start for the bully rocks now, Hugh?” asked Billy, when the artist had gathered his traps together and seemed ready to continue the tramp.
“That’s the next thing on the program; and after we’ve taken what views we want there, why, I’ll show you what I want to try out. It struck me yesterday as we were looking for new nut trees up here, and I saw how fine the cliffs stood up in several places.”
“P’r’aps, Hugh,” chuckled Billy, “you might be aiming to give the Excelsior fire-fighters a few object lessons on how to save people from ten-story tenement buildings; but as we haven’t anything taller than three stories in our town, I don’t see just how they’ll profit by it.”
“Of course I wasn’t thinking of the fire company when I laid out these plans,” the patrol leader said; “but this rope-climbing business is like a good many other things scouts learn: they don’t everexpectto have to depend on such a thing to save either their own life, or that of another person; but if the time ever does come, it’s handy to know how.”
“You’re right there, Hugh,” admitted Billy; “it’s just like a man insuring his house against fire. I don’t reckon anybody ever believes his houseisgoing to burn down; but he only wants to have his mind easy.”
“Well, lots of the stunts scouts learn are just so much insurance, as you might say,” Hugh declared. “And the more a boy stocks up with this stuff, the better he’s equipped for life. That’s where it counts big, I’m telling you.”
“And there is where we tucked ourselves away from the cloud-burst!” announced Billy, being the first to glimpse the queer rocky formations in the shape of shelves, that jutted out for six feet or so from the face of the hill.
Again Arthur “got busy” and made his arrangements. Hugh seldom offered any suggestion, for he saw that the other was better qualified to manage this thing than any of the rest. Once more they posed while the proper focus was being secured; and then Arthur injected himself into the group, gave the customary warning, and finally pressed the magic bulb that completed the circuit.
Since so much depended on getting a sure-shot of the queer shelter which Hugh had discovered, Arthur repeated the attempt once more; in case one exposure should have some mishap come to it, he could turn to the other. He had learned that in all important cases, where extra value is placed on a picture, it is a good thing to make doubly sure; because it is often utterly impossible to secure the same conditions twice, and a valuable opportunity may be lost.
After this, Hugh assumed charge of things. He was really anxious to try out several ideas of his own connected with cliff climbing, which had been one of the features of past contests in which the scouts had indulged to a limited degree. Now he believed he had hit on a series of experiments that would not only prove fascinating sport, but give them all considerable training in rope-climbing, as well as a knowledge of how Alpine guides manage to keep from falling when mounting dizzy heights.
Twenty minutes after taking the last picture, the four scouts were climbing the rugged mountainside. Far above them they could see the bare ridges of a higher peak, where many of their earlier outings had been conducted in the days when the troop was still young.
They were chattering like a flock of magpies, when Billy suddenly gave a cry of excitement. As before, those quick eyes of his had been roving to the right, to the left and straight ahead, always discovering new things.
“Oh! what in Sam Hill is that thing over yonder coming straight this way?” he yelled, clutching Hugh by the arm. “If I’d been reading ‘Baron Munchausen’ or ‘Sinbad the Sailor,’ I’d think it was a giant roc flying toward us; but it seems more like a battered old balloon dropping down to the ground.”
“Itisa balloon,” said Hugh, after looking intently; “and I believe I can see a man in the swinging basket, waving his arms to us, as though he might have lost all control and wanted us to help save him!”
The other scouts were of the same mind when they had looked closer. It gave them a thrill to realize that all of a sudden, out of the clear sky, an opportunity had arisen whereby they might be of use to one in great peril.
“It’s sinking right along, isn’t it, Hugh?” exclaimed Bud in an awed tone, as he kept his eyes fastened on the strange object that had so unexpectedly dawned upon their vision.
As it happened that the trees grew sparsely in that quarter, they were able to watch the approach of the sky traveler in his disabled balloon. All of the boys took it for granted that he must have ascended at some fair ground, and met with an accident that had prevented a return to earth under normal conditions.
“There’s no question about that,” the patrol leader replied to Bud’s question; “and now it is easy to see that there is a man in that wobbling basket.”
“Yes, and as you said, he’s making motions to us to do something,” added Arthur, as he hurriedly opened his camera and prepared to take a snapshot of the balloon.
“What can we do to help him, Hugh?” Billy demanded, apparently ready to dash forward at headlong speed if only the order came from the patrol leader.
“Nothing just now, the way things stand,” came the reply. “He is coming as straight toward us as if we had a line and were pulling him. Wait till the balloon gets here, and if there happens to be a trailing rope, we’ll grab hold of that, and wind it around a stump or a rock to anchor the old runaway.”
“That sounds sensible, Hugh,” admitted Billy, always ready to agree with the leader.
“Look at the thing swing up and down, will you?” cried Bud. “Boys, it will be a lucky thing for the professor if he gets out of that scrape with his life. As for me, you’d have to ring the bell lots of times before I’d go up a mile high in one of those flimsy silk bags. Wow! did you see how close it came to that tall tree right then? That would have done the business, I reckon. And there are lots more of the same kind ahead of him yet.”
“Do you see a trailing rope, boys?” asked Hugh. “Sometimes they let one down and have a weight on it for a drag anchor. Seems to me I can glimpse something of the kind now and then.”
“You’re right, Hugh, it’s there!” ejaculated Arthur, who had already snapped off one view of the advancing balloon.
“Everybody get ready to lay hold and fight like everything to check the runaway,” Billy remarked, squaring himself for action in a way he had, just as if he expected to enter a contest of skill and endurance with a prize at stake.
“Isn’t she rising again?” shrilled the excited Bud anxiously.
“Course not, Bud,” Billy told him; “you’re just imagining things again! Hugh, give us a tip if there’s any chance of the old balloon slipping past to one side!”
“Spread out a little, fellows, like a fan; that’s all we need do,” the patrol leader directed. “It looks to me as if we were in the direct line of her flight, and if the wind doesn’t change or a sudden flaw strike in, why, inside of two minutes we’ll either have grabbed that rope or missed connections.”
“Oh! don’t let us make a foozle of it like that!” exclaimed Arthur, who sometimes played golf with an uncle who was very fond of the sport.
He had not dropped his camera, for he meant to take another snapshot when the oncoming balloon had reached a certain large tree that he had selected and for which he had set his focus.
It was this same tree that Hugh was observing with more or less concern. He feared that should there prove to be only a little slant of wind that way, it might catch the drifting balloon and bring about a terrible catastrophe.
As it was, the escape must be a narrow one, for the balloon was heading so as barely to pass the obstruction. And just then, to Hugh’s dismay, he actually felt a puff of air on his right cheek! Up to that moment, the breeze had been coming directly from a quarter in front; but this variation would seem to indicate that a “flaw” could be expected. In mountainous regions there is never any reliance to be placed on the wind, which may seem to blow from half a dozen points of the compass in as many minutes, owing, of course, to the gullies and defiles and cliffs that obstruct a free passage.
“Hugh, she’s veering!” shouted Bud.
“And starting to head straight for that other big tree there, too!” yelped Billy, in turn.
If any one could have seen those boys at that moment, he would surely have realized what an intense interest they were taking in the advance of the drifting balloon and its ill-fated aeronaut. Every face had lost its color, and every eye was bright with excitement.
Now the body of the tree in question was almost in line with the spot where the boys were standing, and were the balloon so lucky as to clear this obstacle, it might pass close enough for these agile lads to race over and make a try for the dangling drag rope.
Hugh himself began to believe it was going to prove otherwise; and that after safely passing through all sorts of other perils, the man who had been a sky pilot was fated to be thrown out of his basket by a collision with that miserable tall and bushy tree that blocked the way.
Still, none of them dared make a start, until they saw what would happen. They could do nothing to prevent a collision; and should there be none, they wanted to remain where they were, so as to be ready for the rescue act that they had quickly planned.
Already the drifting balloon was close to the tree, and seemed to be setting toward it more and more, just as though there might be a great magnet attracting it; or, as Billy later on described it, “It was like a silly moth plunging straight for a lighted candle that was sure to singe its wings.”
Just as the collision actually came, all of the boys seemed to hold their very breath with awe. Arthur, however, having that instinct for securing all manner of strange pictures, mechanically raised his camera and prepared to take another snapshot view at the most critical second.
They could all plainly hear the dreadful scraping sound as the balloon dragged through the treetop. The silken covering must have been badly torn in its passage, for the rush of escaping gas came to the ears of the scouts, and they could see how quickly the immense bag began to collapse after it had dragged away from the tree.
“Come on, boys; we’ve got to get there in a big hurry!” exclaimed Hugh, as he started running with might and main, the others trooping after him. Arthur, of course, brought up the rear, since he had been compelled to snatch up certain parts of his photographic outfit from the ground where he had dropped them.
The balloon was rapidly falling to the ground, the basket being more or less enveloped in the voluminous folds of the immense silk bag.
Indeed, before the boys could reach the spot, the whole fabric had collapsed and grounded there, coming down with such force that it would seem as though the unfortunate pilot must either have been killed outright or at least suffered serious injuries.
In the latter case, perhaps the scouts might find themselves called upon to show “first aid to the injured.” Indeed, on a number of other occasions they had proved themselves apt pupils in the art; and it would be a lucky thing for the balloonist, should he be badly hurt, that fortune had allowed him to fall into the hands of trained boys. Ignorant countrymen would let him bleed to death, simply through a lack of knowledge of the essential things that should be promptly done.
Hugh led the van, with Billy a close second, while Bud kept pretty close at the latter’s heels. And in this manner they arrived at the place where the remains of the wrecked balloon lay in a great pile.
“Get busy, everybody!” called the patrol leader excitedly. “He might be smothered if he lay under that stuff long, with its smell of gas!”
“Whew! isn’t it rank, though?” gasped Billy, as he tugged away at the folds of the heavy silk gas envelope, and fell several times while struggling to lift more than his share of the burden.
Then Bud arrived to lend his assistance; and the way those three boys struggled to turn the entire mass over was worth seeing. Arthur was struck with the possibilities for a new picture as he saw them fighting with the remnants of the once great balloon; and obedient to his instinct, he halted and busied himself getting the proper focus.
The “click” of his camera told Hugh what had happened; but just then he made a discovery that put both Arthur and his propensity for securing “worth-while” pictures out of his mind.
As he feverishly worked alongside the other two scouts, Hugh had expected at any second to uncover the white face of the aeronaut, lying there where he might have fainted at receiving such hard treatment. And the patrol leader had kept his jaws set very tight, so that he might be prepared for any pitiful sight.
His surprise had rapidly grown as they had neared the end of the pile of crumpled silk, and without discovering the first sign of a human being.
“Why, Hugh, he isn’t here, after all!” cried Billy, in what must be confessed was a relieved tone of voice, as though he, too, might have been dreading what they might presently uncover.
“We all of us got fooled, that’s what!” added Bud, trying to laugh, though the effort sounded a bit hysterical.
“What’s all that?” demanded Arthur, who had arrived just in time to hear this last remark.
“Why, there wasn’t any man in the basket after all, don’t you see?” Billy explained, indicating how they had carefully gone over the entire pile of wreckage, even overturning the basket, as though it might have hidden something.
“That’s where you’re mistaken, then, because I saw him as plain as anything,” the newcomer asserted, and Arthur could be pretty stubborn when he wished.
“All right, then, get busy and find him, if you can,” Bud told him. “We throw up the job, don’t we, fellows? Hello! what’s Hugh going to do now?” Their attention being called to the leader by this remark from Bud, the others saw that Hugh had hurried back and up the rise a little.
Presently he stopped, and seemed to be looking earnestly toward the crest of the big tree, about where the basket of the runaway balloon had crashed through when that flaw came in the wind.
The other scouts stared hard, as they began to comprehend what this act on the part of their leader might mean; and presently they were thrilled to hear Hugh call out:
“Boys, therewasa man in the basket, and he’s caught fast in the tree near the very top! Yes, and he lies there as if he might be dead, or else had swooned away!”
What the patrol leader had called out, as he hurriedly returned to them, gave the other three scouts a great surprise. They stepped back a few paces and strained their eyes in the effort to locate the object mentioned by Hugh.
It is always much easier to see and do things when some other person has first marked out the way. Columbus had an experience along those lines, you will remember, after he returned from discovering America. The jealous Spanish courtiers and sea commanders sneeringly declared that his task had been very simple, as all he had had to do was just to “keep on steering straight westward”!
So it was that when Hugh had found out the truth and imparted the information to the rest of the boys, Billy and Arthur quickly discovered, also, the unlucky aeronaut.
“Show me, won’t you?” begged Bud, who appeared unable to locate the exact spot in his excitement. So they bent their heads close together, allowing him to get the range of their extended fingers.
“There he is,” said Billy, “just where that last fair-sized branch shoots out toward the left. Look hard, and you’ll be sure to see something caught in the crotch. That’s the man, Bud. And believe me, it must have been a whopper of a jar when he struck there, after being dragged by that runaway balloon.”
“I wonder if he is dead?” said Arthur in an awed half whisper.
“Don’t you believe it,” Billy declared.
“But he might be, Billy,” added Bud, taking sides with Arthur, “because, as you just said, he must have been slammed into that crotch terribly hard.”
“But you never saw anybody that was dead move his arm, did you?” demanded the positive Billy.
At that the others showed signs of surrender.
“Course not,” remarked Bud; “and if you saw him do that, he must be alive. What do you think, Hugh?”
“I’m not so sure as Billy,” returned the patrol leader, “but I thought I saw his arm move once. That might have been only when it slipped down from some position. But I’m going to find out right away, boys.”
“Hugh’s going to climb the tree,” suggested Bud quickly, taking it for granted that this was what the other meant when he made his last remark.
“But whether the poor fellow’s alive or not, how are we going to get him down from away up there?” asked Arthur.
“Leave that to Hugh,” said Billy wisely.
The first thing Hugh did was to glance hastily around him, as though looking for something he expected to need.
“Oh! it’s that long rope he brought with him to use in the cliff-climbing experiments!” exclaimed Arthur, as he saw the other bend down and secure the article in question, which he must have dropped when he arrived under the tree where the wandering balloon had met its final Waterloo.
Billy looked relieved. His faith, then, had not been misplaced, for Hugh now had means in his possession for lowering the unfortunate aeronaut. Just how the boy would go about it, of course Billy did not exactly know; but he smiled, and took a new interest in the matter.
“Somebody cut away that rope from the basket,” Hugh directed first of all.
“You mean the one that was trailing down?” asked Bud, as he immediately produced his pocket knife, the blades of which he always kept in prime condition.
“Yes, be quick, Bud. I’m going to knot it to my rope, if it seems stout enough,” the leader told him. “That ought to give me a long enough line to double from the ground up to that place.”
“Oh! I see how you mean to do it, Hugh!” observed Billy, wagging his head as though understanding Hugh’s solution for the puzzle.
Already Bud had cut the trailer rope just where it was fastened to the overturned basket. As he did so, he could not fail to notice that a number of seemingly valuable instruments, such as are used by aeronauts in their daring voyages among the clouds, were scattered about, and that a little box lay near them.
“Here it is, Hugh!” he remarked, coming up on the run with the line coiled on his left arm, where he had hurriedly placed it while on the move.
“Stretch it out, while I make a safe knot, one of the best we had to learn before we could be tenderfeet,” Hugh told him.
Bud hastened to cast the coils down, while Billy picked up one end and ran off with it.
While the leader was undoubtedly in something of a hurry, he did not mean in the least to neglect his duty; and never was a knot made more amply secure than the one that united those two ropes. Hugh tested it to his heart’s content, and then appeared satisfied that it would easily bear all the weight that must be placed upon it when they started to lower the aeronaut.
“Next thing is to examine the rope from the balloon, to make sure it’s all right,” Hugh said; “I know mine is up to standard, because before I came out to-day I tested it with a weight three times as heavy as Billy here, and that’s going some, let me tell you.”
He quickly ran over the rope, looking for defects and straining at each portion. In this way possibly precious seconds passed; but it was Hugh’s policy that “haste often makes waste.” He agreed with the backwoods Congressman, Davy Crockett, that it was always better to be sure he was right before going ahead.
“All right, is she, Hugh?” asked Bud eagerly, as the other reached the end of the second rope.
“Yes,” came the reply; “and now I want you fellows to keep hold of this end down here. You understand what I expect to do, don’t you?”
“I reckon it’s to pass the rope over a limb above the man, and then fasten it snug and tight to his body the best way you can,” replied Billy.
“Then we are to haul in the slack, till we get a tight rope,” added Arthur, taking up the thread of the explanation.
And finally Bud broke in with his share,
“And after you manage to get him started out of the crotch, which we’ll help by pulling on the rope, why, all we have to do is to lower away, you keeping him free from other branches till we get him safe down.”
“That’s the ticket,” announced Hugh; “and I’m off!”
Most boys are good climbers, and Hugh was especially at home in a tree. He could do all sorts of agile tricks, using some convenient limb as his trapeze, when he felt in the humor for exercising. But just now he was out for business, and once the boys had boosted him up to the first limb, in order to hasten his progress, he had but one object in view, which was to reach the spot where the man who had been torn from the basket of the balloon was caught and held fast.
The others stood below, in as good positions as they could find, where they might watch his progress. It was hardly a minute after his start before Billy announced that he had arrived close to the dark spot that told of the unlucky aeronaut’s presence.
“Hurrah! he’s up to the place, boys!” he announced joyously; and then, elevating his voice until you would have thought he was trying to address some one on a distant mountain peak instead of a chum just sixty feet away, he roared out: “Say, how is it, Hugh? Can you make it with the rope?”
There was a brief silence, and they understood that the comrade aloft was investigating to ascertain just the best way to manage. Billy guessed what might be the trouble, for at that distance from the ground the branches must be rather small, and Hugh was finding some difficulty in selecting one that could be depended on to bear a good weight, above the burden to be lowered.
Waiting for a signal from above, the three scouts bunched together down on the ground. Billy and Bud had taken possession of the rope, but Arthur did not seem to object. Perhaps he realized that there was only room for two to retain a firm hold, and as both fellows were stout and strong, they could manage better alone. Besides, Arthur had a little scheme of his own which he wanted very much to put through; and he was patiently waiting his opportunity.
“Ready down there?” called the boy in the treetop.
“Yes. Tell us what to do first, Hugh!” answered Billy promptly.
“Strain on the rope, gently, you know, at first. We’ve got to raise him a foot or so before I can swing him out of the crotch. Start away hauling, boys!” came down from above in distinct tones.
So Billy and Bud took in what small amount of slack there was, and, when the rope became taut, they started to pull. The resistance was considerable; but then, Hugh was up there engineering the job and they had the utmost confidence in his ability to run things.
“Stop! That’s enough!” sounded suddenly. “Now wait a second till I get things free. Start lowering very slowly, remember, and no slipping! Go on! That’s the way, boys! A little more, now! Careful, you’re going a bit too fast! Easy! Easy now!”
So encouraging and admonishing, Hugh kept along with the descending burden. This was necessary because the branches were thick, and there was always a possibility of things getting clogged.
Now they could plainly see the man held in the folds of rope. He seemed to dangle there just as Hugh had caught him in the loop, and it was utterly impossible to tell whether he were alive or dead. The boys experienced a strange feeling at the very thought of lowering abodyout of a treetop; surely such a happening could never before have come the way of any Boy Scout.
Both Billy and Bud stuck to their duty manfully, however, despite their intense anxiety. They had been given their share in the rescue work by the patrol leader, and both were firmly resolved that no accident should happen through any fault on their part.
“Oh! that is going to be a regular dandy picture, I tell you, fellows!” Arthur burst out suddenly, while the others were “resting on their oars” for a brief interval. Hugh was clambering down from one limb to another, in order to keep in touch with the descending weight.
“Say, if he hasn’t gone and snapped the whole business, just as we stand!” ejaculated Bud, apparently disgusted that Arthur could bother with such a minor thing when matters of so serious a nature gripped their attention.
“Why shouldn’t I?” demanded the official photographer warmly. “Why, the sun fell full on the poor fellow’s swinging form, and I could see Hugh’s face as plain as print; while you two were in the finest pose ever. You just wait and see how it turns out!—Besides, don’t we want something to show how Hugh engineered this job so finely? Suppose Alec tries to say that it was all made up: You watch me give him a shock when I hold up a print of this splendid rescue work! Oh, I’m not so green as you’d think. I sometimes look ahead a little.”
But the boys were not paying any further attention to Arthur. Hugh had given a signal to commence lowering once more, and the two, who had braced their feet against a convenient root so as to secure a better foundation, let the rope slip softly through their hands, already burning from having felt the contact so long.
Things had apparently arrived at the last stage, for there was the patrol leader crouching on the lower limb, so that he could drop to the ground and receive the oncoming body of the unfortunate aeronaut. As Hugh jumped he gave the word to those at the rope, who continued to lower away carefully, with the air of veterans who knew their business from beginning to end.
A click announced that Arthur could not resist the fascinating prospect of still another picture to add to the value of those he had already secured. All that would be needed now, to make it a complete story, was a photograph of the aeronaut himself at the end, signed with his autograph!
When finally their task was completed, Billy and Bud found that they did not have more than a yard of rope left, showing that Hugh’s calculations had been pretty close.
Hugh was already bending over the figure of the aeronaut, releasing the tightened loop of the rope, which had been cruelly pressing in around his chest under his arms.
The man seemed to be of middle age and medium stature. His thin face was perfectly colorless just then, and it gave the boys a creepy feeling to look at it, so ghastly did it appear.
“How about him, Hugh?” asked Arthur, who had by this time joined the little group around the patrol leader and the wrecked air pilot.
“He’s alive, all right, for I can feel him breathing,” came the welcome response; “but I’m afraid that one arm is broken and badly bruised. You see, he was caught by that crotch up above,—yet perhaps, after all, it served him a good turn, boys.”
“Wow! I should say, yes,” muttered Billy, glancing up as though mentally figuring with what terrific force the man must have struck the hard ground had he dropped the additional sixty feet.
“Better even a fractured arm than a broken neck, I’d say!” ventured Bud sagely.
Meanwhile, in order to make sure of the extent of the man’s injuries, Hugh was trying to get his heavy jacket off. The aeronaut had undoubtedly found no chance to exchange this for anything lighter while rapidly descending from the colder upper regions of space, after his accident in the first place.
Billy hastened to help the patrol leader, and between them they managed to remove the coat, which was so thick in texture that it must have protected the poor fellow’s arm more or less when so violently caught by the crotch in the tree.
After that, Hugh began to open his shirt sleeve. He already knew that it was going to prove a bad job, for this was saturated with fresh blood. The sight made Bud set his teeth together and draw a long breath; while even Billy made a grimace, as though he did not particularly fancy his work, though sticking bravely to it.
Arthur was of course busying himself as usual, fussing with that eternal camera again; and had any of the other three been paying the least attention to him, they must surely have heard that suggestive “click” that told he had secured yet another picture of the wounded man and his attendants.
When he had torn back the discolored sleeve of the man’s shirt, Hugh made a quick, gentle examination, while the others watched all he did with deepest interest. As every scout is supposed to learn more or less in connection with field surgery, especially how to manage a broken or sprained limb so as to give relief until a regular doctor can take charge, Billy and Bud understood just what their comrade was trying to do when they saw him fearlessly working at the dangling arm, the very sight of which gave them a cold chill.
He seemed to have managed to get the fractured bones somewhat in place, for his next movement was to pull out a small package from an inner pocket of his khaki coat, and quickly remove the wrapping paper and rubber band that protected it.
With a wisdom that would have done credit to an older head, Hugh had carried a roll of broad, surgical, bandage tape along with him when starting out on the trip. Probably he had had it along on the preceding day also, though there had been no call for its services. His experience and training had led him to “be prepared” for any accident that might happen to his comrades as they tramped and climbed in the woods.
“Give me a helping hand, Billy, won’t you?” asked the patrol leader.
“Sure thing,” muttered the other, steeling himself for the effort and trying to look as though he enjoyed the experience.
“I’d like to wash all this blood off, if I could, only there’s no water handy,” remarked Hugh, regretfully.
“There’s that brook we crossed, where I stopped to get a drink,” suggested Arthur. “I could run all the way and back, filling my hat full.”
After a slight hesitation, Hugh shook his head in the negative.
“It would take too long, Arthur,” he said. “The sooner I get this arm bandaged up and a splint made to keep it in place, the better; because I’ve seen signs that tell me the gentleman is going to come out of his faint pretty soon. Take hold here, Billy, and do what I tell you. We can pull pretty tight on the tape and it will hold the fractured bones about the way I fixed them.”
All the while he was talking, Hugh had been winding the broad linen tape around the injured arm as neatly as any surgeon would do, and possibly as well, for his whole heart was in his work. And the more the bandage covered the arm, the better it looked in the eyes of the three chums who were watching his labor with considerable pride and approval.
Had the Scout Master been present, he must have smiled with satisfaction to see how his constant endeavors to teach these lads the necessity of being prepared for an emergency were thus bearing ripe fruit, and of excellent quality into the bargain. But then, perhaps he would yet be given the chance to examine the work of Hugh’s hands and to hear the story of the rescue from the boys’ lips.
When the patrol leader had said that the aeronaut was recovering his senses, he had told the exact condition of affairs. They could detect a fluttering of his eyelids now and then; and presently his lips moved whimsically, as though the muscles were first of all beginning to work.
“He opened his eyes then, sure he did, Hugh!” whispered Bud suddenly, just when the other was securing the end of the tape with several stout safety pins that were also discovered deep in one of his pockets.
“That’s good news!” replied Hugh; but he did not take his attention from his work for a single second; he wished to have the job completed before leaving it.
He had fastened the last safety pin, and was patting the arm softly as if congratulating himself on having done at least a decent job, when, on turning toward the aeronaut’s face, he saw that the other’s eyes were now wide open. The man was staring at the boys gathered around him, evidently still half dazed and unable to grasp what it all meant.
“You had an accident in your balloon, sir, and were caught in the top of this tree,” Hugh told him, thinking that the best way to start his brain to working in its proper fashion.
“Oh! now I recollect!” the man cried faintly, as though beginning to clutch at the solution of the mystery. “I was trying to signal to some soldiers to take hold of the rope. Then that tree caught the basket. I was suddenly torn out, and that is the last thing I remember. But how did you get me down here, my boys?”
“We happened to have a long rope, to be used in cliff climbing,” explained the patrol leader; “for we’re Boy Scouts out for practice, you see, sir. By adding your rope to ours we had plenty to lower you over a limb, all of sixty feet. I’ve bandaged your broken arm the best I could, and we’ll get you to town some way or other, sir, you may rest easy on that.”
The aeronaut was about to make some sort of reply, as he started to raise himself with Hugh’s assistance and the use of his well arm, when suddenly Arthur was heard to give a cry of consternation.
“Oh! looky at what’s happening to his things over there by the balloon, Hugh!” he shrieked. And as the other scouts turned their heads, they saw a sight that made them rub their eyes and wonder if they might not be dreaming.