The Flying Girl and Her Chum

by L. Frank Baum

"I'm game to try," declared Sybil, in a brisk tone, "but it seems at first sight like an impossible task. I'm glad, Miss Columbus, that under these circumstances your island is uninhabited—except by owls who can't see in the daytime."

"Were there other inhabitants," returned Orissa, "we would not be undertaking such a thing. The natives would either eat us or assist us."

"True for you, Cap'n. I'm going to keep my stockings on. They'll be some protection against those sharp rocks which we're liable to tread on."

"I shall do the same," said Orissa. "Take your seat in the boat, Syb, and I'll do the first stunt shoving. After we get around the point I will give you a chance to wade."

"Unanimously carried," said Sybil.

This undertaking did not appear nearly so preposterous to the two castaways as it may to the reader sitting quietly at home. Except that circumstances had made Orissa and Sybil aëronauts at a time when few girls have undertaken to fly through the air—as many will do in the future—they were quite like ordinary girls in all respects. A capricious fate had driven them into a far-away, unknown sea and cast them upon an uninviting island, but in such unusual circumstances they did what any girls would do, if they're the right sort; kept their courage and exercised every resource to make the most of their discouraging surroundings and keep alive until succor arrived.

So far, these two castaways had shown admirable stamina. Had either one been placed in such a position alone, the chances are she might have despaired and succumbed to girlish terrors, but being together their native pride forbade their admitting or even showing a trace of fear. In this manner they encouraged and supported one another, outwardly calm, whatever their inward tremors might be.

Orissa Kane was habitually dainty and feminine in both appearance and deportment, yet possessed a temperament cool and self-reliant. Her natural cleverness and quickness of comprehension had been fostered by constant association with her mechanical, inventive brother, and it seemed to her quite proper to help herself when no one was by to render her aid. To wade in the warm, limpid water of the Pacific, at a place far removed from the haunts of humanity, in order to propel the precious craft on which her life and that of her companion might depend, to a better location, seemed to this girl quite the natural thing to do. Sybil's acute sense of humor led her to recognize the laughable side of this queer undertaking; yet even Sybil, much more frail and dependent than her beloved chum, had no thought of refusing her assistance.

The aluminum boat rode lightly upon the surface of the sea, the broad, overhanging planes scarcely interfering with its balance. Indeed, the planes probably assisted in keeping the boat upright. Orissa, knee-deep in the water, was not called upon to exert herself more than to wade; but this was a slow and tedious process and required frequent rests. At such times she would sit in the back of the boat and let her feet dangle in the warm water.