GOLD RUSHIN' AROUND
As the Sea Duck droned along the narrow fjord that led into Foggy Bay, Kit could see at least two other seaplanes ahead of them, and a good-sized ship steaming up the channel. The ship looked like a miniature version of an ocean liner, with three smokestacks and several decks. There were lots of people on the ship's top deck, and Kit saw some of them wave and point at the Sea Duck as it flew past.
Baloo glanced at his navigator, and answered Kit's question before he could ask it. "It gets kind busy here when they have this 'Pioneer Days' festival. Seems like more folks come to the party each year."
"When was the first time you were here for it, Baloo?"
"Well, me an' Wildcat came up here, lookin' for charter work, back in 1931. That was the third year they had the festival," Baloo explained. "It was . . . kinda surprisin'!" The pilot smiled as he thought back to that time. "We stayed on the rest o' that year, an' didn't go back to Cape Suzette until the next summer."
"Plenty o' business, flyin' people an' freight up an' down the coast," he added.
"Was that when you flew through Deadman Pass?"
"Well, yeah . . . but I had to! Didn't have enough gas to go around, and it was way past dinnertime," the pilot replied. "I was gettin' hungry!"
Kit grinned at his friend. It's funny how Papa Bear doesn't brag about really serious things, he thought. I'll have to ask Sitka about that flight. Maybe she can tell me what happened.
"Whoa! Looks like half the seaplanes in the country are here," Baloo remarked, as the Sea Duck flew over the broad expanse of the inner harbor. Kit's eyes widened at the sight. There were at least a couple of dozen floatplanes and flying boats drawn up on the beach or moored off shore. Besides the Sea Duck, four others were in a regular traffic pattern, and a twin-engined, biplane flying boat with red-white-blue roundels on the wings was just touching down on the surface of the bay.
Baloo swung the Sea Duck in a broad circle over the town while the other planes took their turns landing. Then he brought the Sea Duck in for a landing and taxied toward Sourdough's pier. Two figures came hurrying out to the pierhead, where a third person stood waiting. As the Sea Duck pulled alongside the pier, Kit waved to Sitka, Sven and Olav, and then hopped out to help secure the mooring lines.
"Hi, Kit! Glad you could make it," said the ground-squirrel girl, and the two polar bears echoed her greeting. Before Kit could answer a single-engined biplane on floats droned overhead. The cub's gaze followed the biplane closely as it pulled into a tight half-circle and set up for a landing.
"All right, Kit, what type of airplane is that?" asked Sitka.
"A Mossberg M-83 'Fox Moth,'" was the quick reply.
They watched the floatplane settle to a smooth landing and turn toward the town.
"Carries a pilot and four passengers," Sitka observed.
"On short flights, it can carry five passengers," Kit responded, and all four of them laughed.
"You're getting pretty good at this," the girl remarked.
"Now it's your turn . . . what's that one?" Kit pointed to the twin-engined, biplane flying boat, which was pulling up to a mooring buoy. A figure in flying gear stood in an open hatch at the nose, reaching for the buoy with a boathook.
"An Air Force coastal patrol 'Stranraer.'" The girl gazed thoughtfully at the seaplane. "It can carry four depth charges for anti-submarine patrol . . . and I see this one has Mossberg variable-pitch propellers."
"Maybe you could show Kit what's goin' on today, instead o' watchin' airplanes," Baloo remarked, as he joined the others. "After all, this is his first visit to 'Pioneer Days.'"
"Okay. If we go right now we can see the birling contests," Sitka remarked.
Baloo gave Kit a nod of approval, and the two youngsters hurried up the pier toward the warehouse that Sitka's parents owned. As they did, Kit noticed how warm it was. Sitka wasn't wearing her usual jacket, while both Sven and Olav had on shirts that seemed more suitable for Cape Suzette . . . on a mild day.
Sitka stopped in the office of the warehouse just long enough to tell her mother where she and Kit were going, and promised that they'd be back by lunch time. Then they headed into the main part of the town of Foggy Bay. As they did, Kit saw the large steamship that the Sea Duck had passed coming into the harbor.
"That's the Princess Elizabeth, one of the Northland National Railway's ships. They run a passenger and cargo ferry service all along the coast," the girl explained.
"Is this a regular stop?" Kit asked, and Sitka shook her head.
"Not for that ship. Most of the time we just get the small freighters that carry cargo and a few passengers." They turned to the left and started up the main street. "But last year the company had a special cruise for tourists, and the ship stopped here during 'Pioneer Days.' It must have been popular; this is a bigger ship than the one that came last year."
As they walked along, Kit's head swiveled back and forth as he drank in the sights. Several banners hung from ropes stretched above the street, announcing events for the next week: a Tale Tale Contest . . . Kayak Racing . . . Logging Competitions. There were also posters on the sides of buildings, proclaiming that there would be several performances of a play called 'The Uplift of Lucifer' at the town Opera House.
"We've got a balloon going up tomorrow, too," Sitka remarked, as they turned down a side street.
Kit was surprised at this, and said so. "I thought everything you did during this festival was supposed to be like it was during the Gold Rush."
"It is. There was a balloonist here in 1900." At Kit's slightly skeptical expression, the girl protested, "Really! He made the first flights of any kind in these parts. What's more, the planes that made the first 'around the world' flight stopped here, back in 1924. It's all written up in the book 'Northern Aviators,' by Harold May."
A moment later they came to the end of the side street, where a narrow river ran past the town. Several logs had been tied together, end-to-end, to mark out a section of water where another log floated. Sitka explained that this was the site of the birling contests. Two men would stand on the log, and then try to flip their opponent into the water by rolling the log with just their feet.
"A lot of times both of them go in the drink," she added.
A large crowd was gathered along the shore, and a neatly-dressed fox was consulting a notebook in his hand. He glanced around and then called, "Steady the log! Messieurs, take your places, s'il vous plaît."
A lean, muscular, beaver, wearing only boots and trousers and holding a short pole tipped with a metal spike, stepped onto the floating log, which was being held steady by a wolf dressed much as Olav and Sven had been. Then a strange figure who also held a spike-tipped pole stepped onto the log. After some thought, Kit decided that the second contestant was a porcupine, for his head and neck had a crest of quills which extended down his back to the waist. Even so, he was taller and slimmer than any porcupine Kit had ever seen around Cape Suzette.
"That logger is in for a bath," Sitka chuckled, nodding at the beaver and then pointing at the second contestant. "That's Quickfoot, the fastest runner you'll ever see anywhere."
"Uhh . . . where's he from?" Kit asked.
"Right here! The Quillback tribes have been living in this area almost three hundred years." She grinned at Kit. "A Quillback never walks anywhere. They run! What's more, Quickfoot's uncle won two gold medals for running, five years ago at the Olympics."
As they took their places, the beaver and Quickfoot stuck their pike-poles into the log to steady themselves. The fox signaled the wolf to let go, studied the two contestants carefully, and then called, "Throw your poles!"
The pike-poles were tossed aside, while the two contestants carefully balanced themselves on the log.
"Time in!" shouted the fox. The beaver started to push against the log, rolling it backward as his feet walked forward. Quickfoot matched him, step for step, as the watching crowd began shouting encouragement to both contestants. The log kept rolling faster, while the beaver leaned forward, pushing hard with his feet at each step.
Quickfoot matched the beaver step for step, while the log spun so fast it began to throw up spray. Kit had just decided that the log couldn't spin any faster, when Quickfoot seemed to 'shift gears' and began running at a blistering pace. The beaver tried to match the speed, lost his footing and was flipped into the water. A loud cheer went up from the watching crowd.
Still stepping along the rolling log, Quickfoot let it slow down, and then brought his boots down firmly. The log jerked to a stop and the Quillback calmly stepped ashore to the general applause of everyone . . . except a few who had apparently bet on the beaver.
After watching two more birling contests, Kit and Sitka walked back to the main street, where the girl pointed out several buildings that dated from the Gold Rush days. Then she led Kit to a corner building that had a glass store-front window and a sign that read 'Gold Rush Outfit Exhibit.' A large, amiable-looking raccoon in a checked shirt and overalls was standing in the doorway, and called a greeting to them.
"Howdy, Sitka! Who's your young friend? Somebody off the ship?"
"No, this is Kit Cloudkicker. He's Baloo's navigator now," the girl replied. "Kit, this is Alex Martin; he owns the jewelry and curio store up the street."
Kit shook hands with Alex, and saw that the store seemed to be packed with sacks, crates and bundles. The racoon noticed this, and invited them inside.
"If you came here back in 1899, Kit, you'd need all these things in order to up-country as a prospector." Alex swung his arm at the stacks in a sweeping gesture.
"You'd have to bring in 25 pounds of dried potatoes, 25 pounds of sugar, 75 pounds of dried fruits, 150 pounds of bacon and 400 pounds of flour. Plus tools, clothing, a tent, and a lot of other things." Alex patted the stacked boxes as he went on. "Every stampeder had to have all this when he started inland, or the territorial police wouldn't let him go through Frozen Bird Pass."
"Everybody had to have . . . all of that?" Kit stared at the load in amazement.
"Yep. It's about a ton of gear and supplies for one man, but during the winter, some people were stuck in the gold country for six months without seeing another soul. If you didn't pack in everything you needed at the start, you might not last through the winter," Alex nodded soberly.
"But, one person couldn't carry all of this stuff," Kit protested. The crates and bags were piled higher than his head.
"True. You'd have to hire porters to carry your gear," Alex replied. "The Quillbacks made a lot of money that way, packing loads for folks." He walked across the room to a stack of cloth bags that were labeled 'flour.'"
"The ones who didn't have money to hire porters had to find themselves a couple of partners." He slapped the stack of flour sacks. "But then they would have three times as much gear to move."
"One would guard their stuff down here," Sitka explained, "while the other two each packed a load up the pass." She pointed to a picture on the wall that showed an endless line of figures, each with a massive pack on the back, climbing a long, steep trail up a mountain pass. "They'd cache their loads, one would watch it while the other one came back . . . "
"And then the third man would go up with a load while the second man guarded the stuff down here," Alex finished. "Took about thirty trips to the summit just to haul one man's outfit. And everything had to move that way until . . . " A loud steam whistle split the air, and they turned to see an old-fashion steam locomotive coming up from the docks. It was running on rails that went down the center of the street, and pulling several passenger cars filled with people from the Princess Elizabeth.
"That's why the railway was built," Sitka shouted, over the noise of the passing engine and cars. "It's easier to haul three tons of gear up country by rail than to pack it in."
"We used this empty store to set up this display so that visitors can get an idea of what it was like during the Rush," said Alex. "But you should stop at our store before you leave, Kit. Take a look at the watch chain made of gold nuggets that we have on display. It has quite a history."
Kit nodded, as he gazed at the things stacked in the old store. If this was just what one prospector needed, and three people were partners in carrying three loads like this . . . that would make a good cargo for the Sea Duck!
"Alex! Here's your lunch . . . oh, hello, Sitka." Kit turned his head and saw a plump lady racoon and three youngsters at the door. One of the two boys was about Kit's age, while the girl looked barely as old as Molly. The lady came in and handed Alex a lunch pail, while the three kids and Sitka exchanged greetings. Kit was promptly introduced to the group, who happened to be Alex's wife Amanda, and their children.
"If I'd known you were going to be here," said Amanda, "I'd have brought something extra."
"That's all right," said Sitka. "If it's lunch time already, we'd better be getting back." They said a quick good-by and hurried down the street toward Sourdough's warehouse.
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After lunch, Baloo, Kit and Sitka walked up the main street, taking in more of the sights. They finally stopped outside the Foggy Bay Opera House, an imposing building with a large poster in front advertising the evening performance. The poster reminded Baloo of circus posters he had seen when he was about Kit's age. A bearded figure in red tights and cape, holding a pitchfork, smiled wickedly at the viewer. The flamboyant lettering listed the names of the characters, and who played each role in 'The Uplift of Lucifer.'
While Kit didn't know who most of them were, one name in particular on the poster caught his eye. "Juneau Salopian as 'The Lady in the Case?'" He turned to Sitka. "Your mother's an actress?"
"She used to be, even after Dad married her," was the reply. "She had to give it up when . . . " The girl hesitated for a moment. "When I came along, but now she's part of the local theatre group."
"Wow . . . is there anything your family doesn't do?"
"Oh, sure, lots of things," Sitka grimaced. "For example, don't ever ask us to help you with your garden. If Mom, Dad or me just touch a plant, it's doomed!"
"Kinda hard to grow anything around here anyway," said Baloo. "'Cept for trees," he added thoughtfully.
Before Sitka or Kit could say anything in reply, they heard a siren begin a rising wail of alarm. All three turned to see an old-style, horse-drawn fire engine racing down the street, smoke pluming from its boiler while one of the men on it vigorously cranked the siren. The engine thundered past them, heading down toward the dock, with a number of people rushing after it.
"Is this a demonstration er somethin'?" Baloo asked, gazing after the racing fire engine.
"I don't think so, Papa Bear," said Kit, as he pointed to a growing column of smoke near the harbor end of the street.
"Hey, that could be the display building!" Sitka cried. "Let's go see!" She set off running on the wooden sidewalk, with Kit and Baloo close behind. People were coming out of buildings as they passed, while others were hurrying toward the fire from all parts of the town.
Kit saw that it was the building with the display that was on fire. Flames were dancing inside the ground floor windows and smoke was pouring from the second floor as the firemen laid out their hoses and started the pumper working. A second fire wagon loaded with ladders and axes pulled up, and additional firemen were pouring in from every direction. Kit and Sitka climbed up on the bed of a wagon parked across the street from the old store and watched as the firemen set to their work.
Gazing at the building, Kit saw a small face suddenly appear at the top floor window. He grabbed Sitka's arm and pointed. "Look! Somebody's still inside!"
The girl gasped. "That looks like one of Alex's kids! Come on!" She leaped to the sidewalk and sprinted across the street, dodged through the firemen and charged into the open door of the store.
Kit hit the ground running a split second after Sitka, followed her through the door and up the stairs of the blazing building. He paid no heed to the shouts from the crowd and the firemen, but just concentrated on following the girl through the smoke and heat.
"CARLA! Where are you?" Sitka shouted, in a voice Don Karnage would have envied. The roar of the flames and the crackle of burning timbers drowned out any reply. Kit dropped to all fours and scuttled into the nearest doorway, keeping below much of the smoke. There was a lighter area in the murk . . . a window? He moved toward it and bumped against something furry and moving on the floor.
"Here she is!" Kit shouted.
Sitka joined him in a moment. "Come on, Carla, your mommy wants you." She scooped up the raccoon child and turned toward the door.
"Susie!" the little girl cried, trying to wiggle out of Sitka's arms. "I can't find Susie!"
"That's her doll," Sitka explained to Kit. "We'll find her, Carla! Don't worry," she told the girl, while Kit tried to scan the room through watering eyes. Then he spotted something on a nearby chair.
"Is this Susie?" Kit handed the doll to the raccoon child. The girl gave a cry of delight and hugged the doll tightly. Sitka sighed in relief and jerked her head toward the doorway.
"Time to go!"
Kit agreed. He led the way as they headed for the stairs, while Sitka did her best to keep the little girl calm. But as they came down to the second floor a snapping, crumbling sound below told them that the steps were gone. Kit glanced into the front room and then shouted, "This way!"
They crawled across the room to the window, which was locked! Kit grabbed a wooden stool and smashed the glass out of the frame. He leaned out, shouted and waved . . . and then ducked back inside as the firemen brought a hose to bear on the window. The water streamed in, smashed against the wall and drenched Kit, Sitka, Carla and Susie with a blessed, cooling spray.
It seemed to Kit to be only a few seconds later when a ladder thumped against the window frame. Sitka handed Carla to a cat who appeared on the ladder, wearing a fireman's helmet and canvas coat. Then she followed the fireman down the ladder, with Kit right behind her.
Amanda took Carla in her arms from the fireman as Kit jumped down from the ladder. Baloo, Sourdough, Olav and Alex quickly surrounded the two youngsters, with mingled looks of relief, gratitude and concern on their faces.
"Young lady, don't scare me like that!" Sourdough grabbed his daughter by the shoulders and gave her a shake.
"Going into a blaze without wearing a Fearnought suit is asking for trouble," Olav put in, while Baloo brushed some ashes from Kit's sweater.
"You're okay, Kit? Ya didn't get burnt?"
"I'm fine, Papa Bear. How's the little girl?" Kit added, looking toward Amanda, who held her child tightly in her arms.
"Carla's all right, Sitka, thanks to you," said Alex, turning from his wife to the small group.
"You should really be thanking Kit. He saw Carla at the window," the girl protested. "He found her doll, too."
"Thank you, Kit!" Alex knelt and shook the cub's hand. "That was mighty brave, risking your life to save my daughter."
In spite of his concern, Baloo was grinning. "Yeah, he does a lot o' that sort o' thing."
A massive bull wearing fireman's gear and a white helmet marked 'Chief' came over to the group as they were talking.
"Any idea how it got started, Alex?"
"Not really, Fred. My boys were outside, and they saw smoke coming up from the back of the place. They came in and told me, I checked it, and found the whole back room on fire," the raccoon answered. "While we were doing that, Carla must have slipped upstairs for her doll."
Kit nodded. Molly would have done something just like that, he thought.
"Did you have any kerosene in the place?" the Fire Chief asked.
"Just what was in the lamps. The fuel cans in the display were full of water."
"Well, something's fishy," the Fire Chief remarked. "I've seen my share of fires in the past ten years, but I've never seen one go this fast. And the boys tell me they smelled coal oil smoke when they got here." He waved at the other firemen as he spoke.
There was a shout from up the street. Kit and Baloo turned to see a rabbit running down the street, calling out and scanning the crowd as if he was searching for somebody in particular. He turned toward the little group and shouted, "Alex! Two guys just robbed your store!" He skidded to a stop between Baloo and Sourdough, gasping for breath.
"All the customers took off to see the fire, leavin' me, Jerry and Nick alone in the place. Then these two foxes wearing masks came in, stuck us up, and grabbed the gold nugget watch-chain." The rabbit paused to gasp for air before he went on. "They locked us in the back room. We had to bust the door to get out."
"I'll bet you anything you'd care to name, they set this fire to get everybody away from the store," said the Fire Chief. There was a general nodding of heads in agreement.
"Looks like we'll have to check every train, boat and plane that leaves for the next few weeks," Olav remarked. "They'll have to take that chain of nuggets to a big city in order to cash it in. Around here it would be recognized as soon as anyone tried to sell it."
"Couldn't they break it up an' sell the pieces?" Baloo asked.
"They'd be fools if they did," Alex answered. "That watch-chain is worth more than the weight of the gold in it."
"That's right," Sourdough added. "A collector would pay five times the value of the raw gold in it for a slice of history like that."
Kit looked up at Sitka. "Too bad all this happened," he remarked. "It kinda spoils your festival."
"Oh, this isn't so bad," she winked back at him. "Two years ago there was a real fine brawl, and somebody got shot."
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The next morning Kit woke to the sound of somebody knocking on the side of the Sea Duck, and a cheerful, but muffled, voice calling from outside.
"Rise and shine, you two! Or do you want to skip the balloon launching?" Kit checked the time, snapped fully awake, and rolled out of his hammock.
"Wake up, Papa Bear! We overslept!"
"Humph? Whasup?" Baloo muttered from the fold-down bed.
"The balloon goes up at seven, and it's six-thirty now!" Kit tugged on his sweater, grabbed his navigator's cap and opened the side door of the Sea Duck's hold. Sitka's mother stood there with a smile on her face and a breakfast tray in her hands.
"You both really slept in, Kit. Was the show last night that dull?" She winked at him, and Kit remembered how much he'd enjoyed watching 'The Uplift of Lucifer' at the Opera House.
"Oh, no, Juneau. I thought the show was great!"
Juneau handed Kit the tray, on which were two glasses of orange juice, three fresh doughnuts, a cup of hot coffee and a steaming cup of cocoa.
"Here's a pick-me-up to get you two started. Once the balloon is off, come back and I'll fix a real lumberjack's breakfast for you."
"Gee, thanks!" Kit took the tray and placed it on a crate in the hold, as Baloo sat up in bed, fully alerted by the smell of food.
"Don't be too long," Juneau said, as she turned and started back up the pier.
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Ten minutes later, after some hasty preparations, Kit and Baloo joined Sitka at the warehouse office and started for the balloon launching site. The girl led the way, across the main street and down an alley, past a small hotel. As they hurried along Kit heard a muffled cry behind him, and a thump, as if Baloo had fallen out of bed. He stopped, turned around, and saw a figure lying just outside the hotel's open back door.
"Hey, wait!" Kit ran back to the figure, followed by Baloo and Sitka. They found it was a fox who had been tied, gagged and blindfolded. However, the blindfold had slipped up enough so that he could see out of one eye.
Baloo removed the gag and the blindfold while Sitka took out her knife and cut the ropes from the fox's arms and legs. As soon as his mouth was clear, he asked, "Did those two miscreants escape? Have they absconded with my balloon?"
"Slow down, mister," said Baloo. "Who are ya, an' what do ya mean, your balloon?"
"I am Thaddeus High, Expert Balloonist!" the fox indignantly replied. "Last night my assistant and I saw to the preparation of our balloon and then came here for a few hours of sleep before our flight. But two villains were waiting in our quarters, and they tied me and my assistant up! They took our flight gear, and bragged about how they would use my balloon to get out of town without being searched." The fox was obviously furious. "I had to roll, crawl and fall out of my room, down the stairs and out here before anyone saw me."
"Bet those are the two who robbed Alex's place," Sitka remarked. Thaddeus tried to sit up, but his legs gave out at once.
"Easy, mister, you can't walk until you get the blood flowing in your legs," Kit cautioned.
"But those vandals will ruin my balloon! They know nothing about aerostatics." The balloonist's voice was filled with contempt. "Why, they even drank the champagne."
"Huh?" Baloo stared at Thaddeus in bewilderment. "What's champagne got to do with a balloon?"
"In the past balloonists would carry a bottle of champagne with them on every flight," Thaddeus answered in an exasperated tone. "Then, when they landed, they would drink a toast to their successful flight."
Sitka nodded. "I get it, you had some champagne to take with you . . . "
" . . . and the crooks drank it . . . " Baloo continued.
" . . . after they tied you up," Kit finished.
"Exactly! A fine bottle of Caquot 1913," he answered. "And they swilled it down like so much sodapop! Those barbarians must be stopped!"
"We'll stop 'em," Baloo growled, rising to his feet.
"Wait! There will be a ring of men around the launching site, and only those with permission will be allowed inside," Thaddeus explained. "This is to prevent accidents or damage to the balloon."
"That's right," said Sitka. "Dad told me about it. He, Sven and Olav are part of the guard detail."
"But they'll listen to you, won't they?" Kit asked. "If you tell them what's happened, I mean."
"We'll have to stop and explain things," Sitka answered. "If the crooks hear us talking they'll know the jig is up."
"They will cast off and be away in a flash," Thaddeus groaned.
"Isn't there any way to stop them?" Kit asked.
"If you could open the rip panel the gas will escape and the balloon will deflate," the balloonist explained. "But that means getting right up to the balloon basket."
Kit glanced up at Baloo and stopped in amazement. His big friend was smiling!
"Okay!" Baloo chuckled. "I just got me an idea . . . "
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At the edge of town the balloon towered over a crowd of spectators, who were held back by a line of rope guarded by a string of miners, lumberjacks and railroad men. A net covered the gasbag, with lines leading down to a wooden ring above a square wicker basket. A heavy rope ran up from each corner of the basket to the ring. Two foxes in leather jackets and flying helmets were just climbing into the basket as Sitka, Kit and Baloo pushed through the crowd and came to a stop at the rope barrier.
"Wait, hold on!" Sitka shouted, and Baloo held up a large bottle with an elegant label and wires holding the cork in its neck.
"Ya forgot the champagne," Baloo called, as the two foxes stared at them.
"Balloonists always take a bottle of champagne along, so they can drink a toast when they land," Kit explained to one of the guards. "Come on, let us through, they're supposed to have this."
"Back in 1900 they had a bottle of champagne on the flight," the girl said.
One of the two foxes in the balloon basket was slightly shorter than the other, and when Baloo, Kit and Sitka asked to be let through the safety line he nudged the other fox and whispered something. The taller fox shook his head and then called out to the men at the rope.
"Of course!" said the tall fox. "Let them through, tradition must be observed." The guards lifted the rope, letting Kit, Baloo and Sitka pass through and trot up to the basket.
Baloo started to pass the bottle to the tall fox when it slipped from his fingers. As it fell the pilot knelt quickly to catch it, but Sitka got there first.
"I've got it!" She stood up and stepped forward, holding the champagne bottle.
"Thanks, kid," the fox remarked as he reached out with one hand.
"My pleasure!" the girl answered, and she let the cork fly out of the bottle with an explosive POP! It hit the fox on the forehead, and Sitka sprayed both foxes in the face with a stream of champagne. At the same instant Baloo stood and tossed Kit up to the wooden ring above the two spluttering foxes' heads.
Kit had already spotted his target. He grabbed a wide, flat canvas tape that was painted red, wrapped it around his hand and then leaped off the ring. His weight came on the canvas tape with a jerk and there was a drawn-out, tearing sound as he came down. After a moment of hesitation, the side of the balloon opened and the gas came rushing out. The balloon bag and the net over it crumpled and fell, landing partly on the basket, but mostly on the ground.
The crowd was stunned and silent for about thirty seconds, and Baloo made the most of it.
"Where's the Sheriff?" he bellowed. "These are the guys what robbed that store yesterday!"
It took about an hour before everyone was satisfied that Baloo, Kit and Sitka had done the right thing, the stolen gold nugget watch-chain was found and the two criminals had been marched off to the town jail. Thaddeus, who had arrived at the launching site shortly after the balloon was deflated, inspected it and declared that it had not been damaged.
"We can replace the rip-panel today, re-inflate the balloon and make the flight in two days," he concluded.
Once everything had been explained the crowd began to break up and head for a good breakfast. However, many of the passengers from the Princess Elizabeth were still half-way to believing that the entire affair had been staged just for their amusement.
"I have one question left," Sourdough remarked, as he walked back to the warehouse with Kit, Baloo and Sitka. "Where did you get a spare bottle of champagne so quickly?"
"Ahh, well, we got one from the hotel kitchen," Baloo explained cautiously.
"I remembered those four cases that came in for Mr. Ferguson on the last ship, Dad," Sitka added.
"Hmmm . . . do I owe Sid Ferguson something for that bottle?" Sourdough's face was stern, but he seemed to be hiding a smile.
"Yes . . . but we didn't break anything getting it."
Sourdough gave a sigh, and he shook his head in mock dismay.
"You three go on home, Sitka, and tell your mother I'll be along in a bit." He turned off toward the hotel while Baloo, Kit and Sitka continued on toward the pier.
"Will you be in trouble for this?" Kit asked.
Sitka grinned. "I doubt it. After all, nobody got hurt, the crooks were caught, Alex got the watch-chain back and the tourists got a big thrill out of it. All pretty ordinary," the girl shrugged. "Not like you cloud-surfing through Frozen Bird Pass, the last time you were here."
Baloo laughed. "Oh, Kit does that sort o' stuff all the time, Sitka." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
"Now, just last week we had a run-in with a fella from Thembria . . . a little guy named Colonel Spigot. Kit surfed down from the Sea Duck to Spiggy's plane so's we could play a few tricks on him . . . "
As Sitka listened to the story, Kit felt embarrassed and proud at the same time. But . . . he didn't ask Baloo to stop talking.
THE END