"The engine is there, but I can't tell if it's broken or not. We'll soon find out."
The big biplane lay among some rocks and bushes, the latter overhanging the water, which at this spot was less than two feet deep. By taking off their shoes and socks, and rolling up their trousers, the boys were able to wade out to the flying machine and make an inspection.
"One of the planes is broken," said Dick. "But as the bamboo poles are merely split I think they can be repaired with some fine wire,—just as we repair a split baseball bat."
"But the engine?" asked Sam, impatiently.
"I think the engine is all right—at least it looks all right to me. Of course we can't be sure until we clean it up and try it."
"Then she must have struck the water on the slant and that must have broken the shock," said Tom; and this surmise was undoubtedly correct, for had the Dartaway come down squarely on the rocks the planes and the engine must have been broken to bits.
"Do you think we can get her ashore?" asked Sam.
"Sure we can, by the aid of the hooks and ropes, and the horses. But we want to be careful how it's done. There is no sense in breaking the machine still more."
"We might get some planks from that old hut and roll the wheels up on them," suggested Tom. "I don't believe anybody uses the hut."
"No, that ain't been used for years," said Peter Marley. "Ye can tear down the hull thing if ye want to."