He began to execute this maneuver now. The island which Peggy had indicated was a small spot of land some five miles off the shore. It was sandy and barren looking on one side, though at the further end from them there grew some trees and scrubby looking bushes.
If he could only keep the aeroplane from sagging down into the sea Roy was confident he could land at the place in safety. But it was still some distance off and the aeroplane was still dropping with much greater rapidity than seemed comfortable. Both Roy and his sister were expert swimmers, and the boy knew that Jeff was at home in the water. But at the same time, if they struck the surface of the sea, there was the chance that they might become entangled in the aeroplane and drowned before they had an opportunity to save themselves. So it was with a keen sense of apprehension that the boy exercised all the air craft of which he was master in bringing his sky cruiser downward.
“Oh!” cried Peggy suddenly as the Golden Butterfly gave a sickening downward drop like a stone plunging to vacancy.
But the empty “air pocket” which the craft had struck was a small one, and the next instant the atmosphere caught the broad wings and buoyed the aeroplane up from what seemed to be destined to be a disastrous fall.
The drop had, however, had one good effect. It had thrown the aeroplane almost on end, and in that manner drained a few last driblets of gasolene from the depleted tank into the feed pipes.
It was only a little fuel, but it was enough to cause the engine to resume operations for a couple of minutes. Taking advantage of this lucky accident, Roy drove forward, and as the propeller came once more to a standstill the Golden Butterfly sank down into a bed of sand which made her almost at once stationary.
“Well, we are—aerial Robinson Crusoes,” exclaimed Peggy as, having clambered out of the chassis, she stood surveying the little island which they had so fortunately landed upon.
“Yes, and if we don’t get some gasolene pretty quick we’ll be Crusoes in a mighty uncomfortable sense,” commented Roy, moodily gazing about at the surrounding sea, smooth as a sheet of glass and without the sign of a boat upon it. Far off on the horizon there hung a three-masted schooner, all her sails set, in the flat calm. But she was too far off to aid them even had she been able to.
“Tell you what we’ll do, let’s explore the island,” said Jeff Stokes suddenly.
“Of course,” cried Peggy, clapping her hands, “that’s what everybody does in story books when they are stranded on a desert island, and right after that they always find just what they want, even down to a silver-mounted manicure set.”