The Flying Saucer Mystery Page 2

  Old Joe explained that he was a naturalist by preference. “I was in business once in the city but I didn’t like it. As soon as I made enough money to retire I came up here where I used to spend my summers as a boy.

  “Now all I do is study the behavior of wild animals toward man. Most won’t attack unless they’re extremely hungry, or are protecting their young, or are frightened or threatened by a human being or another animal.

  “Of course, this doesn’t apply to tigers,” the naturalist added. “They’ll attack for no reason at all.”

  Nancy remarked, “Wildcats and tigers are related, though, aren’t they?”

  “They’re distant cousins. I’m glad there aren’t any tigers in the United States. You know,” he went on, “so far as is known, man is not the natural source of food supply for any other creature. I believe that man’s worst enemy is man himself.”

  Nancy and Ned liked the elderly gentleman more and more. He was not only a naturalist but a philosopher as well.

  “We’re heading for our camp,” Nancy said. “Wouldn’t you like to ride along and meet our friends?”

  Old Joe chuckled. “I’d like that very much, but to tell you the truth, I prefer walking.”

  He and the riders followed the trail which Nancy and Ned had missed, and shortly they arrived at the camp.

  “Oh, thank goodness, you’re all right!” Bess said, hugging Nancy.

  Everyone was overjoyed to see that she and Ned and the horses were safe. They also were delighted to meet Old Joe, who captured their hearts immediately with his quiet sense of humor and evident love of nature.

  The campers had built a fire and now they all sat around it, listening to the comforting crackle, while supper was served to the latecomers.

  “I don’t buy much food from the store,” Old Joe said. “I get practically everything I eat from in the woods.”

  Bess’s eyes opened wide. “You mean you might eat wildcat meat?”

  The man’s eyes twinkled. “No, but I do catch rabbits and groundhogs. One of the best dishes you’d ever want to eat is groundhog stew.”

  That did not sound appealing to Bess, but she kept silent. Old Joe said there was good fishing in the mountain streams and all sorts of delicious berries and plants.

  “One of my favorite dishes is stewed wild rose leaves.”

  Although Bess knew she was being teased, the plumpish girl decided that if she ate some of this natural food, the scale might reflect the benefits. She was always making promises to herself to modify her eating habits, but never actually followed through.

  The rest of the campers were more interested in hearing about Old Joe’s adventures in the forest. He entertained them with wildlife stories including one about his rescue of a bear cub.

  “Got himself caught in somebody’s makeshift trap. I set him free but you know what? He followed me home! Craziest bear I ever met. Well, I figured he was hungry so I fed him and told him to scat. But next morning he was scratching at the door just like a puppy.”

  “Does he still live with you?” Bess asked in amazement.

  “Oh, no. He only stayed with me until he was old enough to go out into the forest and forage for himself. Never did see that bear again, so I imagine he survived on his own.”

  Now the elderly man stood up and said he must get back to his cabin. “I expect all of you to come over and visit me. My little cabin and everything in it is handmade,” he remarked. “I’m rather proud of my accomplishments and I’d like you to see them. You’ve shared your food with me, so now it’s my turn to feed you.”

  The campers thanked Old Joe for the invitation, then said good night. Suddenly George stopped him and asked, “Have you ever seen a flying saucer around here?”

  The campers waited breathlessly for an answer.

  3

  Mountain Mishap

  Old Joe looked at the group, startled. “You’ve heard about the flying saucer?” he asked in surprise. “I thought only a few natives knew about that.”

  Nancy told the naturalist that a client of her father’s had contacted him and divulged the secret. “Dad is a lawyer. He said people around here who knew about the flying saucer were afraid to report it for fear of being laughed at.”

  Old Joe smiled. “I think that’s partially true. As for myself, I never could be sure whether it was a real unidentified flying object from outer space or some government experimental aircraft.”

  “Then you’ve seen it?” Ned asked.

  The naturalist said indeed he had. “The saucer usually appears at night and has very bright lights. I’ve seen only white lights, but some folks say at times they’re red, other times green, and even yellow.

  “One man reported seeing the whole saucer turn bright red. It looked as if it were ready to burn up, but the thing flew away and disappeared.”

  Old Joe’s listeners were intrigued by the strange story. All of them hoped that the mysterious flying saucer would return soon so they, too, might see it.

  Dave asked, “Do the people who have seen it think there are human beings aboard?”

  The naturalist smiled and shrugged. “Nobody’s ever seen anyone come out. But I’d say one thing. If humans are aboard, they must be the best pilots in the whole universe.”

  Burt added with a chuckle, “And they’re flying a super craft.”

  Old Joe said he really had to leave. Again he invited the group to come to his log cabin. “I’ll show you some crude drawings I made of the flying saucer.

  “That’s great!” George remarked. “It’s too bad you didn’t take any photographs of it.”

  The naturalist said that some of the local people had tried to, but their high-speed cameras had been unable to capture anything but a blur.

  “That’s strange,” Nancy remarked under her breath.

  “I’ll give you directions to my place,” Old Joe said. He asked for paper and pencil, and drew a map of trails to his cabin. When he finished the zigzagging line, he looked squarely at Nancy. “I have a mystery of my own that I’d like you to solve,” he said. “I’ll tell you about it when you come to see me.”

  Intrigued by the prospect of another mystery, Nancy wondered what it might be, but Old Joe gave no hints. The campers decided they would call on him the next morning, and the naturalist was delighted.

  After he had gone, Nancy thought excitedly, maybe Old Joe’s mystery concerns his cabin. He did make a point of telling us that everything in it is handmade.

  The following morning the campers packed up their belongings. Jan made sure this time that nothing was left behind.

  “All set!” she called at last.

  Everyone mounted a horse. Hal rode in front, carrying Old Joe’s map. It led them onto a narrow side trail which apparently was a dry brook that became a torrent of water when there were cloud-bursts or melting snow. Now the path was filled with small stones.

  The riders had not gone far when Ned, who was following Nancy, suddenly cried out, “Goalpost has gone lame!”

  At once, Nancy reined in Susan B and dismounted quickly to examine Goalpost’s hooves.

  “There’s a stone wedged in this one,” Nancy said, as she carefully lifted Goalpost’s right foreleg.

  She hurried back to her horse, opened the saddlebag, and took out a hoof pick. With Ned’s assistance, she managed to dislodge the stone.

  She patted the horse’s nose and gave him a little hug, saying, “Now do you feel better, you nice old thing?”

  Ned smiled. “Thanks for your help, Nancy.” He, too, patted the animal.

  By this time their friends were out of sight. When Nancy and Ned caught up with them, the group had stopped to discuss what they should do next.

  “The forest is becoming more and more impenetrable,” Hal announced. “It’s impossible for the packhorses to get through because the trees are so close together. I suggest we tie them here and go on to Old Joe’s without them. I’ll check our walkie-talkies in case we get split up.”

 
He examined the compact radiotelephones that were being carried in his and Jan’s saddlebags. “They’re okay,” Hal said a few minutes later. “Let’s go on. If any place is too narrow to pass through, pull your legs, saddlebags, and stirrups to the back of your horse.”

  Bess called out from the rear of the line, “Where are we going? I don’t see the trail anymore.”

  “That’s true,” Hal replied somberly. “From here on it seems to be just a series of deer tracks. Let’s hope they’ll lead us right to Old Joe’s cabin.”

  Ten minutes later George, who was riding directly behind Hal, pointed ahead. “Now what do we do?” she inquired.

  As the others drew near, they could see an enormous fallen tree trunk blocking their path. Its diameter was higher than the backs of their horses.

  “What a monster!” Dave exclaimed. “I wonder how tall the tree was.”

  The group dismounted, tied the horses, and spread out along the giant trunk.

  Ned remarked, “My guess is that this oak must be over fifty feet long.”

  Bess stood back to admire it, saying, “What a gorgeous tree it must have been when it stood. How old do you think it is?”

  “Anybody know how to read tree rings?” Ned asked.

  Jan made her way to the end of the trunk where it had broken off. Unfortunately the tree had splintered apart and the rings could not be read accurately.

  “Sorry,” she said. “Probably Old Joe can tell us because it looks as though the tree trunk has been lying here a long time.”

  “One thing is certain,” Hal added. “It wasn’t sawed down. The tree fell either because it was diseased or because it was struck by lightning.”

  Burt had walked to the other end of the tree and announced that it would be impossible to get through the limbs and branches without a lot of hacking.

  “We must have taken a wrong turn,” the boy said. “If Jan’s right, then I doubt Old Joe would have sent us this way.”

  Jan consulted the hand-drawn map. “Let’s climb over and go the rest of the way on foot,” she suggested.

  “Yes, let’s,” Bess agreed. “We’ve been riding for hours and I’m starved. I bet Old Joe will have a good lunch for us.”

  Her cousin George teased, “I hope you’ll like the menu. Remember, he lives on goodies from the forest. You’ll probably have a broiled bullfrog, tasty worm salad, and for dessert, persimmons to pucker your tongue.”

  Everyone except Bess laughed. She made a face. Now the campers scrambled up the trunk and sat astride it the best they could.

  To their dismay the group discovered they were at the precarious edge of a steep decline at the foot of which there was a rushing stream filled with rocks, some of them large and treacherous.

  Jan asked, “What do you say, everybody? Do we go ahead or turn back?”

  For several uneasy seconds no one answered. Then Nancy said, “I think we should try it. Old Joe is expecting us and remember, he wants to tell us about his personal mystery. I’m dying to learn what it is so I can try to solve it. Besides, I want to see his sketches of the UFO; don’t you?”

  Ned concurred. “Isn’t that the purpose of this trip?”

  The others agreed. Jan suggested they go in pairs. “Take it slow and easy on the descent. Remember the saying, ‘Haste makes waste,”’ she cautioned. “Let’s hope we can walk along the stream, which I think is the one on Old Joe’s map.”

  Ned jumped down first and caught Nancy’s hand as her feet touched the ground. The Drakes went next, followed by George and Burt. None of them had mishaps.

  “Our turn,” Dave told Bess. “There’s nothing to worry about. I’ll go first and catch you. Okay, partner?” Before he jumped, Dave paused for an answer.

  Suddenly Bess said, “Wait! I—I’m so dizzy.”

  Instantly she lost her balance and rolled off the trunk down the mountainside. There were fewer trees and bushes on the slope, evidently because of logging operations. Bess began to tumble faster.

  “Oh, no!” Dave cried out, jumping off the trunk.

  He dashed after her and caught his foot in a trailing vine that almost caused him to plunge headfirst. By now, Bess was far ahead of him and rolling rapidly toward the turbulent rock-filled water!

  4

  Trixie, Lifesaver

  Quickly Dave regained his balance. He dug both heels into the mountainside as he ran to rescue Bess. She was only a few feet away from the dangerous stream!

  Too far away to assist the helpless girl, the other campers watched in horror. Would Dave reach Bess before she fell among the jagged rocks and injured herself badly? She might even drown!

  Without any warning, a large retriever bounded from among the trees. With lightning-fast leaps, the dog got to Bess. She grabbed the girl’s belt in her teeth, braced herself against the hillside, and stopped Bess’s descent in the nick of time.

  “Oh, thank goodness!” George murmured.

  Within seconds Dave was bending over the girl. She was unconscious and badly scratched.

  “Bess! Bess!” he cried out, patting her cool, clammy cheeks.

  The dog now stood alongside her, whining and looking at Dave for orders.

  By then, Nancy, Ned, and the other campers had hurried back along the stream. Jan, who said she was a nurse, examined the unconscious girl for broken bones and concluded there were none.

  Meanwhile, Nancy and George took wads of tissues from their backpacks, dipped them in the cold water, and applied them to Bess’s forehead and the back of her neck. Ned and Burt daubed more cold water on her scratched face and arms. Presently Bess opened her eyes but said nothing.

  Nancy whispered to her, “I’m so glad you aren’t badly hurt, Bess. Why don’t you lie right here until you feel better?”

  For nearly ten minutes, Bess rested, then opened her eyes again. Finally, with Dave’s help, she sat up.

  “I don’t think I’d better walk any farther. You all go along without me,” she said quietly. Just then she noticed the retriever. “Where did you come from?” she asked the dog, who was wagging her tail.

  “She saved your life,” Dave told Bess, and explained what the animal had done. “I don’t know where she came from.”

  Bess hugged the beautiful dog and thanked her. In reply, the lovely animal leaped out of her grasp, then ran back and forth along the stream, barking.

  “Why is she doing that?” Bess asked.

  Nancy guessed that the retriever wanted them to follow her. “Are you Trixie? Are you Old Joe’s dog?” the girl detective asked.

  The animal wagged her tail briskly and gave a number of short barks.

  Nancy laughed. “I think this is Trixie and she wants to take us to her master’s cabin.” She patted the animal. “Okay, Trixie. Wait until we get the horses and then you lead us to Old Joe.”

  Jan said she would stay with Bess until the others returned. “I suggest that you leave one of the walkie-talkies with us so we can communicate with you if necessary.”

  Burt reminded, “It’s going to be tough getting the horses down here. They can’t climb over that tree trunk. We’ll have to bypass it somehow.”

  “Right,” Dave agreed. “We don’t want any broken legs.”

  It took some doing to bring the horses down the mountainside. When they all arrived, one of the walkie-talkies was unpacked and left with Bess and Jan.

  The other campers mounted and followed Trixie. She stayed close to the bank of the stream. The going was rough but uneventful.

  As a crudely built log cabin came into view, Trixie hurried on alone, barking wildly. Old Joe came outside immediately and welcomed the group with a big smile.

  After counting the number of visitors, he asked, “Where are the other two?”

  Nancy explained and added that Trixie was indeed a heroine.

  The naturalist praised his pet. “I sent her to find you folks,” he said. “I was afraid you might get lost. Evidently she met you at the right moment.”

  He invited t
he group to tie up their horses and come into the cabin. As he had told them, it was very unusual. It consisted of a single room with everything he needed in it.

  In one corner stood a hand-carved wooden bed. The coverlet had been made from wild goat hide. Several bearskin rugs lay on the floor. The walls were covered with deer heads, and stuffed chipmunks and mounted birds adorned the windows. There was a huge stone fireplace next to which stacks of wood were piled high.

  A large wooden dresser stood along one wall of the room. On top was a small wooden barrel holding a beautiful bouquet of wild flowers.

  “This is lovely,” Nancy remarked, leaning over to smell them.

  Old Joe opened the top drawer to display the wooden forks, knives, and spoons he had made. Some of them were short and others very long. The latter, he explained, were used for holding meat over an open fire.

  Were the blunt-looking knives sharp enough to cut meat? the onlookers wondered. The naturalist read their thoughts and suggested that the boys try them out. Ned picked up one and examined the edge. He almost cut his finger!

  “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.”