Danny Dunn on a Desert Island (2 page)

CHAPTER THREE

“Just Like Robinson Crusoe”

For a moment there was a stunned silence. Then Mr. Pearson, in his sharp, precise voice, said, “What would you do—throw them at each other?”

Dr. Grimes snorted. “Don't be absurd.”

“But how—?” Mr. Pearson began.

“Very simple. I will go ashore on one desert island, and Bullfinch on another. After a time—say, a month—we'll see which of us has made himself more comfortable.”

Danny and Joe stared at each other. “Oh, boy,” whispered Danny, with shining eyes, “what an adventure!”

“Yeah,” said Joe. “Ugh!”

Mrs. Dunn giggled. “I have an image in my mind of Mr. Bullfinch dressed in skins, like Robinson Crusoe, and with an umbrella made of leaves over his head. But I couldn't possibly send hot meals all the way to a desert island.”

Professor Bullfinch looked meditatively into the bowl of his pipe. “I suppose,” he said, “that you don't think I'd be capable of managing for myself? When I was younger I used to go on camping trips every summer.”

“When you were younger, you used to have a full head of hair,” sneered Dr. Grimes.

The Professor grinned, passing a hand over the few strands of hair that lay across his pink scalp. “Oh, that was an unkind cut, Grimes,” he said. “I don't know…the idea sounds fairly attractive. I could do with a change of air, and a rest, and some solitude in which to think. Are you serious about this?”

“Never more serious in my life,” said Dr. Grimes. “But you'd better put the idea of rest out of your mind. You'd be flying about like a split atom, just trying to keep alive.”

“I don't think so. You might have a little trouble—”

Mr. Pearson shook his head. “In my opinion you'd both have trouble. It might be very dangerous.”

“Why, Robinson Crusoe was shipwrecked,” squeaked little Mrs. Pearson. “Would you have to start by being shipwrecked, too?”

“My reference to Robinson Crusoe a while ago,” said Dr. Grimes, “was a figure of speech. Naturally, we wouldn't want this to be dangerous. For instance, we could arrange for someone to check on us every day. And we'd have to take certain basic supplies.”

“Yes,” said the Professor, “we would have to start with enough equipment for our camps. Well, Grimes, if you really want to go through with this—”

“Are you trying to back out?”

“Not at all. We can each afford a month's vacation.”

The Professor stood up and held out his hand. “I accept the challenge,” he said.

“Oh, dear,” cried Mrs. Pearson. “Are you going this minute?”

“Heavens! I hope not,” said the Professor. “I was looking forward to a little music.”

“We can settle the details tomorrow,” Dr. Grimes agreed. “This is a birthday party, after all.”

He clapped the Professor on the shoulder. “It'll be a pleasure to beat you, my dear Bullfinch,” he growled. “Just as it is a pleasure to play music with you.”

The two were enthusiastic amateur musicians. They left the table and went into the living room where Professor Bullfinch got his big bull fiddle from a closet and tuned it, and Dr. Grimes took out his piccolo, fitted it together, and played a few practice trills. The ladies sat down on the couch to listen, and Mr. Pearson made himself comfortable in an armchair and shut his eyes so that he could listen better.

The two scientists began to play a merry melody. Mr. Pearson listened so hard that soon his snores kept time to the music. Professor Bullfinch winked at Dr. Grimes, and they played a lullaby. Soon all disagreements were forgotten in the music.

Danny tugged Joe's sleeve and nodded toward the door. They slipped outside. The night was clear and starry, and a warm, moist breeze blew across the meadow, bringing with it a scent of sweet phlox, damp earth, and a hint of gasoline from the airplane hangar.

The boys climbed to the top of a tool shed in the garden. From here they could look over the dark bulk of the Professor's laboratory at the rear of the house, and see the spill of light from the front windows gilding the leaves of a lilac bush. The faint strains of the music came to them.

“Wouldn't it be great if they really did it?” said Danny. “Went to the desert island, I mean.”

“I don't know,” Joe said soberly. “It might be awfully lonely for them.”

“Hmm…but maybe there would be savage cannibals, wild natives with spears, and we'd have to fight them off—”

“Huh?” Joe's head swiveled around. “How did we get on that desert island?”

“Not too hard, if we work it right. I could go with the Professor, and you can share Dr. Grimes's island.”

“Gee thanks… Now wait a minute,” cried Joe nervously. “Don't go jumping into things headfirst again. Every time you get that tone in your voice it means trouble. Like just last month, when you said, ‘Maybe we can build a glider out of that orange crate and the toboggan.' Remember? Oh, golly, my back still hurts from the fall off this roof.”

“Joe,” said Danny gently, “you're a nice guy, but you have one fault. You worry too much.”

“Well, but…savages, cannibals—”

“I was just joking.”

“Oh, sure. But maybe they wouldn't be joking.”

“Okay, Joe. I'll do it alone.” And Danny slipped down from the roof. “I'm going in right now and ask my mother for permission to go along with the Professor.”

Joe grinned. “You are?”

“Yes.”

“Then forget about it. There isn't a chance in the world our folks would let us go.”

“Don't be too sure,” said Danny, as his friend joined him on the ground. “If we can talk them into it—”

“
We
again,” Joe groaned. “Oh, all right. I guess I'll have to go along with you.”

“Great! Just imagine”—and Danny struck a heroic pose—“Robinson Crusoe Dunn and Friday Pearson.”

“Uh-huh. And Friday is supposed to be bad luck,” Joe mumbled.

The two boys went back into the living room. The concert had just ended, and the Professor was lovingly polishing the body of his fiddle, as Dr. Grimes cleaned out his piccolo.

“Mom,” said Danny, in a very sweet voice, “Joe and I were just thinking.”

Mrs. Dunn raised one eyebrow. “One moment,” she said. “A little bird tells me what it is. You both want to go along with the Professor and Dr. Grimes.”

Danny's mouth dropped open. “Gosh!” he said.

“I think you'd better not, dear,” said Mrs. Dunn.

“Absolutely not,” said Mr. Pearson.

“Never!” Mrs. Pearson chimed in. “And that's final!”

CHAPTER FOUR

Plans and Preparations

“Gee, I'm glad our parents are letting us go on this trip,” said Danny. He and Joe were sitting with Professor Bullfinch and Dr. Grimes at the dining-room table, a few days later.

“I'm not quite sure how you did it,” said the Professor, lighting his pipe. “I would have wagered anything that Mr. and Mrs. Pearson, at least, would never have given in.”

“That,” said Danny, with a disarming grin, “is one of the trade secrets of being a kid.”

“Yes, seems to me I can remember,” chuckled the Professor. “Well, let's go over the arrangements so far. We must bear in mind that they only agreed to let you go if we could make the trip absolutely safe. Now, to begin with we'll fly our own plane to Lima, Peru. Off the coast some thirty or forty miles are the two islets we've called 1.1 and 1.2. As far as we know, they have no regular names. Both islands are uninhabited. We'll go out to them by boat. We will stay three weeks on the islands, Dr. Grimes and Joe on one, and Danny and I on the other. We'll be visited regularly by my friend Dr. Turbot, who will fly over from Lima. Furthermore, we'll be in radio communication with him every day, so no one need worry. Is that clear so far?”

“Quite clear,” said Dr. Grimes. “And at the end of the three weeks, the winning pair will be chosen by Dr. Turbot and his associates. We'll be judged on the basis of how comfortable and secure we've made ourselves.”

“Just so,” the Professor nodded. “Now, let's make up a list of the equipment each team will take.”

“I guess, if we want to be fair about it,” said Danny, “each team ought to have the same equipment.”

“Yes,” agreed Professor Bullfinch. “I suppose we ought to make up categories and then fill in the details for each category.”

He got out a large sheet of paper and at the top of it wrote, “Tools.”

Joe, leaning across the table to see better, said, “That's the first category, eh?”

“Yes, I think it's the most important,” said the Professor.

“What about weapons?” Dr. Grimes asked. “Surely, defending ourselves against attack by savage beasts, or hunting—”

“But those
are
tools, my dear Grimes,” the Professor replied mildly.

“Ah, yes. I see your point.”

“Actually, we have only five categories that I can think of: tools, shelter, food, clothing, and first aid.”

“How about something to do in our spare time?” Danny suggested.

“We may not have much spare time. However, perhaps we could take some books, games, schoolwork—”

“I wasn't exactly thinking of schoolwork,” Danny replied.

“Let's discuss tools first,” said Dr. Grimes. “I should think four rifles, four revolvers, bows and arrows—”

“Hold on!” the Professor interrupted. “We aren't an army, you know. There's probably nothing but small game on these islands. I should think a .22 rifle for each team would be ample.”

“Suppose we meet cannibals, like Robinson Crusoe did?” Joe asked.

“That's unlikely,” said Dr. Grimes. “The islands are uninhabited.” He turned to Professor Bullfinch. “For the time being, I agree. What else?”

“We ought to choose only the most basic tools.” The Professor drew thoughtfully at his pipe, and puffed out a great cloud of blue smoke. “If we're to do this right, we must take along simple and necessary things, enough to make ourselves comfortable, but not enough to burden ourselves down. For example, a crowbar—”

“What? But that's a house-wrecking tool,” said Joe. “Are we going to wreck our houses before we even build them?”

“Let me finish, Joe,” Professor Bullfinch said amiably. “I was about to say that a crowbar is an example of a good, basic tool. It's true, it can be used as a wrecking bar. It can also be used as a lever, a hole digger, a ground breaker, a kind of club or spear, a tent pole, or even an anchor.”

“Then you think we ought to take a crowbar?” asked Dr. Grimes.

“No, I don't.”

“But you just said—”

“Actually, any strong wooden pole would do just as well,” said the Professor. “I was just pointing out the kind of tool we want, a tool with many uses. You see, we'll be starting where, say, the pioneers started. They opened up the wilderness with just a few tools, and made everything else they needed.”

“They always had an ax,” said Danny. “Yes. I think we need axes and good stout knives.”

“We ought to have a couple of those folding shovels,” said Joe. “After all, we don't want to have to dig with our hands.”

“Good,” the Professor said, writing all these things down.

“Another sort of tool would be short-wave radios,” said Dr. Grimes. “We'll need them to keep in touch with the mainland.”

The Professor nodded. “Tools to cook with—pots, pans, forks, and spoons.”

“Messkits,” said Danny. “And flashlights.”

“Saws, hammers, and nails,” Joe added.

“And plenty of cord and rope,” Danny finished.

They all sat in thought for a moment, and then the Professor said, “That seems like enough. Now we come to shelter. Tents?”

“Don't forget ground-cloths and blankets,” said Danny.

“For food we can take dehydrated stuff,” said Dr. Grimes. “And army-type K rations and canned rations.”

“Yes, and we should take some vitamin pills along as a supplement,” said the Professor.

“We ought to have towels, extra shoes, raincoats, and hats,” said Dr. Grimes.

“And plenty of bandages, antiseptics, and a snakebite kit,” Danny put in, remembering his Boy Scout training.

“Phew!” The Professor exclaimed. “I've got writer's cramp. Wait a minute and let me rest.”

He put down the pencil and massaged his hand. “I'm sure this will grow before we're ready to leave,” he said. “When I began by saying we should take only simple and necessary things, I didn't quite realize how much is necessary.”

“It's too bad, in a way,” Danny mused, “that we can't just junk it all and start from scratch, with nothing.”

The Professor leaned back in his chair, with a laugh. “My boy,” he said. “Dr. Grimes and I are having a duel to see which of us is more practical. For heaven's sake, let's not consider it a duel to the death.”

He fumbled in an inner pocket and brought out a small calendar. “Now, then,” he said.

“Let's give ourselves a week in which to get these things together and make all our preparations.”

“A week?” Joe repeated. “Then I'd better get busy.”

“You mean, getting your things together?”

“No, eating. I want to have plenty to fall back on.”

“Gee, Joe,” Danny said, shaking his head. “How can you be so crazy about food and stay so thin?”

“It's because I worry so much about what's for dinner,” Joe explained.

“Very well,” said the Professor, getting to his feet. “One week to prepare. In one week, the duel will commence.”

CHAPTER FIVE

The Duel Begins

On a bright clear day, one week later, the four travelers gathered at the hangar near Professor Bullfinch's house. With them were Mrs. Dunn, the Pearsons, and several other friends who had come to see them off. A great heap of equipment lay ready to be stowed away in the plane.

Professor Bullfinch, in khaki shorts and shirt, tapped out his pipe on the heel of his boot. He seemed as calm as if a trip to a desert island were an everyday occurrence.

“The time has come to say our good-byes,” he said. “Remember, we'll be in radio communication with Dr. Turbot, in Lima, every day so you parents needn't worry. Are there any last-minute questions?”

“Yes,” said Mrs. Pearson, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief. “Can't you change your minds and stay home?”

“Oh, Ma,” Joe protested. “Don't start that again.”

“They'll be perfectly safe, Sarah,” said Mr. Pearson, patting her hand.

“I know it. But saying good-bye always makes me feel so sad.”

“If there are no other questions,” said the Professor, “we'd better get everything aboard.”

They turned to the mountain of equipment. In addition to the material they needed for their camps, there were numerous cans of gasoline, and a rubber raft with a box of emergency equipment.

They got the gasoline aboard first, and then the Professor put his hand on a large packing case. “I'm afraid this won't go through the door,” he said. “What on earth is it, anyway?”

“The two portable cookstoves we decided on,” said Dr. Grimes.

“Hm. This plane carries a little over a thousand pounds. With three hundred pounds of gasoline, for emergencies, we're dangerously close to the load limit.”

Danny said, “Why not just leave them behind, Professor? We can build a fireplace.”

“I only agreed to them for your sake,” growled Dr. Grimes. “I can do without them very well.”

“That suits me,” said the Professor, “Let's move them aside.”

“As far as that goes,” Dr. Grimes continued, “we don't need air mattresses, or pillows, either.”

“I agree,” the Professor said. “And since the islands are near the equator and will be quite warm, we can do without tents. After all, the most important part of adapting to a desert island should be making one's own shelter.”

“Leave them behind then,” cried Dr. Grimes. “It will only make it easier for me to win.”

“Here! Wait a second,” Mr. Pearson said. He stepped between the two scientists and held up his hands. “If you two practical men go on this way you'll find yourselves on those islands with nothing but loincloths and hunting knives, like a character in a TV jungle story. We don't care so much about your comfort, but I'm sure Mrs. Dunn feels as my wife and I do—we want our boys to survive.”

That put an end to the competition, and they packed the rest of the gear away in the plane. At last they were ready to depart. Joe hugged his mother and father. Danny gave his mother a last embrace, and whispered, “Don't worry, Mom. We'll be all right. It'll just be a swell vacation.”

“I'm not really worried,” said Mrs. Dunn, with a wistful smile. “After all, you've gone camping almost every summer. Just be careful. Do try not to get wet or chilled. And—look after Mr. Bullfinch, dear. He is a very important scientist, but he doesn't have quite as much experience in camping as you do.”

Danny was flattered. “I will,” he promised earnestly.

He gave his mother a last kiss, and followed Joe into the plane. The scientists, after shaking hands all around, took their seats at the controls. The twin motors roared, and the plane slowly taxied down the runway.

* * * *

Since the Cessna was only a small plane, as private planes go, the two scientists had decided to make the trip over land as much as possible. They flew to Brownsville, Texas; then over Mexico and Central America, keeping to a schedule of between five and six flying hours a day. At night, too tired for sightseeing, they slept in hotels near the airfields where they landed for refueling and checkups. The evening of the fifth day found them within a hundred miles of their goal.

They were flying down the west coast of South America, with the towering ranges of the Andes Mountains on their left and the Pacific Ocean on their right, when the first heavy drops of rain slashed across the windshield. Professor Bullfinch, who was at the controls, tried to get above the clouds.

The wind increased, until the plane was rocking and bumping madly. The rain on the plastic canopy above them made a continuous beating noise that almost drowned out speech.

“See if you can raise Lima on the radio,” the Professor shouted.

Dr. Grimes shook his head. He had been working over the radio, trying to contact the field, but from the machine came nothing but crackles and squeals. “Something's wrong with it,” he said.

Danny peered over the Professor's shoulder. “Weren't we flying due south?” he cried. “Because I think we're going due west now.”

“Difficult to tell from the compass alone,” the Professor replied. “I'm afraid we're being blown out to sea, though. If we could only get the control tower at the field.”

“Better reduce power,” said Dr. Grimes. “This high wind puts a lot of stress on the wings.”

Suddenly the engine began to sputter and backfire. The Professor leaned forward to look at the instrument panel. “We're losing altitude,” he said. “It must be the cylinder heads. The rain has cooled them down.”

“Put the mixture controls in ‘Full Rich,
'
” Dr. Grimes cried.

“Can you see anything below?”

It was pitch-dark by now, and in any case the rain would have made visibility difficult.

“I think we're over the sea,” said the Professor. “We'll have to gain some altitude.” He pulled back on his wheel.

“Nonsense!” Dr. Grimes barked. “We've got to land.”

He shoved forward on his controls. He was a little stronger than the Professor. The plane quivered like a live thing and headed downward. The boys were thrown forward against the backs of the pilots' seats.

“Let go!” the Professor said.

“You let go!” Dr. Grimes was equally insistent.

The nose of the plane dipped suddenly. The Professor, dragging back on the controls, managed to level it out at the last moment.

There was a splash that sent water thundering over the canopy.

“We've fallen into the sea!” Danny shouted into the stunned silence.

The lights on the instrument panel flickered and died. The Professor seized a flashlight. “Get the life raft out, quickly,” he commanded. “We don't know how much time we have before the plane sinks.”

Danny and Joe got the folded raft from its rack. Meantime, Dr. Grimes was struggling with the door on his side.

“Seems to be jammed,” he grunted.

Water was already seeping over the floor. The Professor lent his weight, and he and Dr. Grimes forced the door open. Danny passed the raft bundle to Dr. Grimes, who first fastened its rope to the plane and then pressed the trigger. Then he threw it out into the sea. By the beam of the Professor's flashlight they could see it bobbing in the water. Rain dashed into their faces.

Joe yelled, “What about the supplies?”

“Don't try to get them all,” said the Professor. “Just grab whatever you can and let's go. We're sinking.”

While the men held the raft close to the cockpit by its rope, the two boys stepped down into it. Dr. Grimes passed them some boxes and bundles, and then he and the Professor stepped across into the raft. They pulled in the rope.

Just in time. The tail of the plane tilted high, and then the whole craft slid down into the sea.