At least this seemed to be proof that the unfortunate pilot had kept his wits about him, no matter what dire happenings might have come his way.
The sun could not have set—of that Jack felt certain—so the sudden lack of daylight in the vicinity of that deeply imbedded river must have been caused by the passing of some heavy cloud over the face of the sun. Jack even remembered noticing a bank of clouds hanging close to the southwestern horizon for the last half hour and a favoring breeze coming up must have pushed them across, so as to form a lofty but effectual screen.
No matter—nothing counted as long as the ship rested happily on the water with Perk hastening to drop overboard a small but efficient anchor, such as would be apt to take up scant room aboard an amphibian, but prove invaluable on occasions like the present.
This was only a part of Perk’s duties, however—when thus anchored the ship swung to and fro on its reliable pontoons but they were fully twenty feet distant from the sandy stretch beyond the river’s edge.
The current was anything but friendly and there was a strong possibility that the depth between the beach and the anchored boat would prove to be several feet, with perhaps pockets twice that, to judge from the way the water swirled in eddies.
But all that had been considered when equipping the amphibian for service on land or water. Of what avail would it be to have the pontoons so handy if, after coming down on some body of water, they must wade or swim in order to make a landing?
Perk was engaged in taking vast breaths into his capacious lungs and then blowing into some sort of queer rubber contraption which, expanding rapidly, presently assumed the proportions of a squatty little boat—nothing to boast of so far as appearances went, but capable, when fully blown up, of ferrying himself and his companion over the few yards of open water lying between themselves and their coveted landing place.
Without just such an auxiliary, the usefulness of a land and water aircraft must be considerably cut down, as pilots have long since ascertained from actual experience. Just as had been the case of the folding anchor that, with the rubber boat took very little room until needed, it paid big dividends in comparison with the small amount of trouble it gave.
The castaway air pilot was standing near by watching everything they did with the utmost eagerness. Thus far he had not seen fit to call out, but his manner proved the intense interest he felt.
Jack waved his hand encouragingly to the other, even while Perk was launching the clumsy rubber boat which proved to be so buoyant that it kept bobbing up and down with each movement of the speeding, gurgling current.