The Bird Boys' Aeroplane Wonder; Or, Young Aviators on a Cattle Ranch

by John Luther Langworthy

During the remainder of the day they went here and there, making fresh discoveries at every turn, and fairly saturating themselves with the multitude of things that were associated with this new life.

One of the cowboys in particular had attracted the attention of Andy; and Frank also admitted having taken an immediate liking for the same fellow. He was a lively boy, full of vim and go, and yet with something winning about his ways. They called him “Buckskin,” and it was quite a long time before either of the newcomers learned that he had another name, Oliver Cromwell Jones.

He seemed more eager to hear about the exploits of the young aviators than any of the rest; though for that matter they were every one of them hanging around every minute they could spare from their duties, showing the newcomers their bunkhouse, the big stables, the enclosure where the saddle band of horses was usually kept when not in use, and everything else they could think of, until both Andy and Frank felt that they were growing confused under so much attention.

And what pleased Frank most of all was a rude building or shed which Uncle Jethro had had built to serve as a hangar for the biplane. Where he got his ideas from they did not know; but it must have been some magazine article; because the affair seemed to answer all requirements; though of course it was a mere shed, and not intended to be locked up.

But such a thing as injury coming to the precious aeroplane in this isolated place never once occurred to the boys. Surely there was no malicious Percy Carberry, and his shadow Sandy Hollingshead, away down here to want to render the biplane worthless for use; and every one of the punchers acted as though he believed the greatest treat of his whole life would arrive when he actually saw with his own eyes those daring young aviators mount upward toward the sky, until they seemed like a mere speck in the blue vault.

There was one occupant of the ranch building whom the boys were pleased indeed to meet. This was a little fairy of five, named Becky, a blue-eyed child, daughter of a niece of Mr. Witherspoon, who had departed this life. She was a winsome little thing, and the cow punchers seemed to fairly worship her.

Frank guessed that there was a little mystery attached to her, but he did not mean to seem curious, and ask any questions. In due time they learned from Buckskin that this niece had run away with a dashing Mexican named Jose Sandero; and after being cruelly treated by him, had fled once more across the border, arriving with her tiny baby at the Double X Ranch so worn out with fatigue that she had soon passed away. Her child had been left to Uncle Jethro; but not wanting to risk any chances, he had taken legal means to make himself the guardian of little Becky. And ever since she had been the sunlight of the whole ranch. The boys would stop in the midst of any wordy war, or wild singing, just to listen to the music of her sweet childish voice, that seemed capable of arousing all the best emotions in their natures.

Nothing had ever been seen of the father, and it was taken for granted that he must either be dead, or never wanted to attempt to claim his child. And, Buckskin declared that if ever he did show up round that region, he stood the finest possible chance of pulling hemp that any man ever knew.

That supper was one never to be forgotten. With the smiling Chinaman waiting on the noisy crowd, and appeasing every demand, Andy thought he had never enjoyed anything half so much in all his life. He had often camped out, and eaten the fare that is so greatly relished by every healthy lad with red blood in his veins, but there were so many things connected with this meal at the long table, where some ten ranch riders sat, and exchanged comments characteristic of their occupation, with everything so strange to the tenderfoot, that it made a deep impression on both the newcomers, never to be eradicated.

Then the punchers trooped off to their bunkhouse, to leave the travelers alone, for they felt that they needed considerable of a rest to make up for the fatigues of their long journey.