“It’s coming this way!” Craig Warner cried, dropping his pack.
For a few brief moments, the trio watched anxiously. Would the plane turn back as it had done on the previous occasion?
Warner finally identified it: “It’s a Forest Service ship, with pontoons. Boys, I think it’s heading straight for the lake.”
Fearful that the pilot might miss the cabin area or falsely conclude that no one remained there, the three made all haste back to the lake.
By the time they arrived there, breathless from running, the roar of the powerful engines could be heard distinctly. Hap Livingston had come hurrying out of the cabin. Anxiously the four waited, waving their arms.
Their signals were unnecessary. As the plane made a practice run, the watchers knew that help had arrived. In fact, as the Forest Service ship dropped closer, Jack was able to recognize War and Willie riding with the pilot.
Again the plane circled. Down fluttered a parachute with packages of food attached. It hit the ground about a hundred feet from where the Scouts stood. Ken and Jack ran to retrieve it.
“This will be a help,” Ken declared jubilantly. “But we need medicines—and a doctor.”
Working fast, Mr. Livingston and Craig Warner ripped up the signal cloth into two flags. These the Scout leader attached to sticks. With the improvised wigwag device, he then began sending the message:
“TWO MEN BADLY HURT. NEED MORE HELP.”