The Flying Saucer Mystery (4 page)

“It’s sharp all right,” he commented.

Old Joe laughed, then said, “I guess we’d better get some lunch ready.” He called to Trixie. “Go fetch us some fish from the stream,” he ordered, explaining to his guests, “She is an expert at catching trout in her teeth. When she brings them up here, how about you boys preparing them for cooking? Do you have hunting knives with you?”

“Yes,” they chorused.

“Good. Then you girls can set up a three-legged spit to hang the fish on,” Old Joe suggested, “while the boys gather some dry wood from the forest to make the outdoor fire for cooking it.”

“All right,” Nancy said, “but first I want to check on Bess.”

She soon made contact with her walkie-talkie. Bess said she was better. “But I got really scared when we saw a giant staring at us from among some trees.”

“A what?” Nancy asked in disbelief.

“A giant. He’s a real tall Indian with his hair pulled over half his face. He had on some kind of suit made of leaves.”

“Sounds strange,” Nancy commented. “Did he talk to you?”

“Sort of,” Bess said, “but we couldn’t understand him.” Nancy suggested that perhaps the man was speaking in his native Indian language.

“Probably,” Bess replied, adding, “He didn’t hurt us. In fact he gave us some lunch. He threw a handful of delicious nuts to us, then disappeared into the forest.”

When the conversation finished, Nancy asked Old Joe if he knew who the giant Indian was.

“I’m not sure,” her host answered, “but if he’s who I think he is, the Indian is harmless. Evidently he has lived in the forest all his life. I remember hearing about him when I was a young man. The authorities tried to capture him but never could. Since he was harmless, they finally gave up.”

George asked, “Did you ever catch a glimpse of him?”

“Not for many years,” the elderly man replied.

George next asked the naturalist if any other Indians lived in the area. Old Joe shook his head.

George giggled. “Then maybe he doesn’t belong here. Perhaps the spaceship dropped him off!”

Ned grinned. “So now we have a new kind of spaceman. An Unidentified Flying Indian!”

As the others laughed, Trixie bounded up to them with a large trout in her mouth.

“Good dog,” Old Joe praised her. “I think there’s enough food here for all of us. You won’t have to get any more.”

Ned took the fish. He cut off the head and tail and threw them away, then expertly slit the fish open and removed all the bones, then cut the rest of the trout into small pieces.

Soon the spit was put up and the fire started underneath it. Old Joe hooked the chunks of fish onto the spurs of the three-legged rig. The welcome aroma of cooking fish filled the air.

Up to now there had been a gentle breeze, but suddenly the wind blew hard, toppling over the spit and the fish. The burning wood scattered. Nancy quickly grabbed a nearby bucket of water and doused the remaining flames.

“Are we going to have a cyclone?” George asked, gazing at the darkened sky.

Old Joe looked worried. “I don’t know,” he answered, “but this is exactly what happened once before when the flying saucer appeared.”

The sky became more overcast and the wind blew stronger by the moment, whipping leaves off the trees. Everything that was not stationary was thrown helter-skelter.

Old Joe cried out, “Watch for a brilliant light in the sky!”

Every few seconds the campers gazed upward as they scurried around, trying to save what they could. The tripod had collapsed and scattered. The pieces of fish had sailed through the air and disappeared.

“The fire is spreading!” Dave exclaimed.

Quickly he and Burt stamped out bits of burning wood that had blown from the embers, while Nancy and George rescued several handmade bird feeders from various trees.

In the meantime, Ned had gone to quiet the nervous horses, who were whinnying and stamping excitedly, trying desperately to break loose.

“Whoa there, Goalpost!” he commanded firmly.

The animal obeyed. This had a calming effect on the others until suddenly Nancy gasped.

“The light!” she exclaimed and pointed to the sky. “Here comes the flying saucer!”

The whirling object hurtled through the sky, its two headlights flashing brilliant beams across the treetops. Almost instantly the UFO disappeared from view, and the wind stopped blowing.

“Where did the ship go?” Nancy asked Old Joe.

“I reckon it landed in Dismal Swamp,” he replied. “That’s where the saucer went last time it came.”

“Where’s that?” the young detective questioned him.

The naturalist pointed. “The swamp is between this mountain and the next—way down in the valley.” The other mountain, he noted, was called Teepeeskunk. “A long time ago a tribe of Indians lived over there. They used to catch skunks and sell the fur in town, so the natives gave the mountain that name.”

The campers laughed.

“And I suppose Dismal Swamp is pretty dismal.” George grinned.

“Very dismal,” the elderly man replied. “No one ever goes near the place. It smells mighty bad. If you’re planning to take a look at the mysterious flying saucer, you’d better wear a gas mask!”

Nancy held her nose and giggled. “I don’t care what it smells like,” she said. “I must go there and investigate. Otherwise, how will we know if the spacecraft really came from outer space?”

George said she wondered how Bess and Jan had gotten through the windstorm. “I think we should call them right now on the walkie-talkie:”

Ned pulled it out of his backpack and tried to signal Bess and Jan. He pushed the buzzer button again and again, but there was no response.

“Maybe something happened to them,” George remarked in a worried voice.

Nancy, too, was very concerned. “We must find them right away!” she said and turned to Old Joe. “I’m sorry to leave in such a hurry. I promise to come back soon to hear about your mystery and help you solve it.”

“Thank you. There’s no rush. The mystery has been waiting a long time.”

Hal, a capable woodsman, offered to lead the search for his wife and Bess. “I can make excellent time alone. Just follow my trail,” he directed. “I’ll leave blue chalk marks on trees.”

Old Joe said he certainly hoped the missing campers were all right. “Perhaps they found shelter from the wind inside a cave or among some trees,” he suggested hopefully. “I’m sorry about lunch. But wait a minute. I’ll give you all something to eat on the way.”

He scooted into his cabin and returned in a few minutes, carrying handfuls of something wrapped in huge grape leaves. “I think you’ll enjoy eating this pheasant meat I cured. I bagged the little fellow right here in front of the cabin.”

The campers thanked him, then Hal trotted off on his horse. Before the others could catch up to him, he was out of sight. Apparently Hal had chosen a shortcut back to where Jan and Bess had been left.

The riders found themselves jumping over small fallen trees and splashing through rivulets. Although Hal’s path was fairly visible, the group realized it was hard on the horses and stopped to rest.

Admitting she was as tired as her horse, George sighed. “I thought I was pretty tough,” she said, “but this forest almost has me beat.”

Burt laughed, tweaking her chin affectionately. “Coming from you that’s quite an admission.”

For a few moments no one had much to say. Finally, Ned stood up. “Everybody set?”

He led the way, stopping frequently to identify Hal’s trail. The blue chalk marks seemed rather faint and far apart as underbrush trampled by Hal’s horse had begun to spring back.

When all of them were at last convinced that they were lost, Nancy noticed a small gouge on a tree. “This is new,” she observed. “Maybe Hal ran out of chalk and made this nick as a marker.”

Following the direction it indicated, the riders finally reached the spot above the river where they had left Bess and Jan. Hal was there, talking with them.

Nancy and George dismounted at once and ran up the short slope. Both girls cried out, “Bess, are you all right? The windstorm didn’t injure you and Jan?”

Bess smiled weakly. “I wouldn’t say I’m all right, but I feel better.”

Hal suggested they leave their horses on some level ground he had found beyond the slope. While the boys took the animals there, Jan explained to Nancy and George that the strong wind and overcast sky had frightened both of them. “We were fearful we might be blown into that rocky stream so we decided to climb a little higher up the mountain. We found shelter in an overhang.”

She said their horses were nervous but were all right.

“I’m so relieved,” George said.

When the boys returned, Ned asked, “Is your walkie-talkie broken? We couldn’t reach you.”

Bess said they had not heard it. “I guess the wind made too much noise, or maybe the sound didn’t carry into the overhang.”

Ned explained that they hadn’t tried until the wind died down. He examined the set and found a loose wire that he immediately reattached. He asked Nancy to try calling him. Now the buzzer worked perfectly.

Bess told the others that the Indian with the long black hair had spied on them again.

“This time he wasn’t wearing the suit of leaves. He had on a short deerskin jacket and long pants made of the same material. I’ve decided he’s rather nice-looking after all. I just wish he could speak English.”

Dave pretended to be jealous. “I’m very glad the Indian doesn’t,” he muttered, causing a blush to creep over Bess’s face.

“Oh, Dave,” she said shyly.

Burt cleared his throat, equally embarrassed. “I wonder where the Indian comes from and where he hides out.”

Hal replied, “Possibly he’s a descendant of the Indians who used to live around here.”

“You mean,” Dave spoke up, “that the tribe lives somewhere else now, but he has returned here to see where his forebears lived?”

Hal nodded.

“Maybe the guy’s a hermit,” Dave suggested. “You can’t tell whether or not he understands English just because he won’t speak it.”

Burt concurred, adding, “He could be deaf and dumb.”

“Could be,” Bess agreed.

Jan had picked some delicious wild strawberries. As the campers sat on the ground to eat them, the conversation turned to the flying saucer. Nancy told Jan and Bess about their visit with Old Joe and his story of the spaceship landing in Dismal Swamp between the mountains.

George added quickly, “According to Old Joe the swamp smells horrible. Maybe it has gas in it.”

“Then I’m going to keep away,” Bess announced.

“Well, I’m not,” Nancy said, “and the sooner I go, the sooner I can solve the mystery of the flying saucer.”

“Where is Dismal Swamp?” Jan asked. “I never heard of it and I’ve been in this forest many times.”

Nancy pointed in the direction that Old Joe had indicated. “I guess we’ll have to return to our other campsite, then travel down the mountainside from there.”

“It’s too late in the day to go to the swamp now,” Ned told her. “How about going early tomorrow morning?”

Nancy nodded. “But,” she added, “suppose the flying saucer takes off in the meantime? We may miss an opportunity to solve the mystery.”

“We’ll just have to take that chance,” he said.

Bess suggested, “Why don’t a few of you start out now? I’ll stay here until morning. I can’t walk too far and I still don’t feel up to riding a horse. Too many bruises,” she added with a rueful smile.

“I know what you mean,” Nancy said kindly. Undecided about what was best to do, she then appealed to Jan and Hal. “We’re in your hands. You know more about this forest than we do. What do you advise?”

Since all their supplies were still with the packhorses, the couple suggested they set up camp at the spot where they had left the two animals.

“That way we can all stick together tonight,” Jan added.

Bess groaned.

Jan said quickly, “You won’t have to walk a step if it bothers you. These husky boys can carry you. I only hope the horses and the food are safe.”

Ned grinned. “Shall we draw lots?”

“Not on your life!” Dave replied. “I’ll carry her alone.”

“Piggyback?” Bess giggled.

When the group was ready to leave, Bess suddenly shrieked. The others whirled around and stared at her.

“Now what’s wrong?” George asked, a little annoyed at a further delay.

Terrified, her cousin motioned toward the trees. “There he is again!” she said. “The Indian!”

All eyes turned toward the clump of trees. Indeed, the mysterious man was standing there, motionless, staring at them.

“Oh!” the campers gasped.

His right hand, held high, clasped a huge rock. Was he about to throw it at them?

The Indian stood quite still. He did not lower his upraised arm or throw the rock he held.

“He’s weird,” Bess whispered.

For a few seconds the campers continued to stare at him, fearful of his next move. He was muscular, and though the Emerson football players felt they could put up a strong battle, they wondered if he might defeat them by some unusual strategy.

Nancy was the first to make a suggestion. “Let’s try to be friendly and approach him with our hands outstretched.”

Bess was not so sure this was a good idea. “Suppose—suppose he’s from outer space,” she said. “There’s no telling what magnetic power he might have. He could mesmerize all of us.”