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Morrison-Valfre’s
FOUNDATIONS of
MENTAL HEALTH CARE
in CANADA
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Morrison-Valfre’s
FOUNDATIONS of
MENTAL HEALTH CARE
in CANADA
CANADIAN AUTHORS US AUTHOR
Adapted from Foundations of Mental Health Care, Sixth Edition, by Michelle Morrison-Valfre,
Copyright © 2017, by Elsevier, Inc.
978-0-323-35492-9 (softcover)
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any
means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval
system, without permission in writing from the publisher. Reproducing passages from this book without such
written permission is an infringement of copyright law.
Requests for permission to make copies of any part of the work should be mailed to: College Licensing Offi-
cer, access ©, 1 Yonge Street, Suite 1900, Toronto, ON M5E 1E5. Fax: (416) 868-1621. All other inquiries should
be directed to the publisher, www.elsevier.com/permissions.
Every reasonable effort has been made to acquire permission for copyrighted material used in this text and to
acknowledge all such indebtedness accurately. Any errors and omissions called to the publisher’s attention will
be corrected in future printings.
This book and the individual contributions contained in it are protected under copyright by the Publisher
(other than as may be noted herein).
Notice
Practitioners and researchers must always rely on their own experience and knowledge in evaluating and
using any information, methods, compounds or experiments described herein. Because of rapid advances
in the medical sciences, in particular, independent verification of diagnoses and drug dosages should be
made. To the fullest extent of the law, no responsibility is assumed by Elsevier, authors, editors or con-
tributors for any injury and/or damage to persons or property as a matter of products liability, negligence
or otherwise, or from any use or operation of any methods, products, instructions, or ideas contained in
the material herein.
To my family, Rita, Bob, Rose, Colin, Linda, and Shirley for a lifetime
of support and encouragement. Special thanks to Chris Gray just for
being there and more thanks than I have words to express to my mentor
and friend, Professor Jonathon Bradshaw.
Eric MacMullin
REVIEWERS
John Collins, PhD, MA, Dip. Ed(NT), BA(Hons), DPSN, Holldrid Odreman, RN, MScN-Ed, PhD
CMS(dist.), RN, RPN Professor of Nursing
President/CEO, John Collins Consulting Inc. School of Nursing
Instructor, BSN Program Niagara College
Vancouver Community College Welland, Ontario
Vancouver, British Columbia
Kathlyn Palafox, BSN, BCPID
Cheryl Derry, RN, CAE Practical Nursing Program Coordinator
Instructor, Practical Nursing Secondary Senior Educational Administrator
School of Health and Human Services Canadian Health Care Academy
Assiniboine Community College Surrey, British Columbia
Brandon, Manitoba
Angela Rintoul, NP, MN-ANP
Thomas Gantert, RN, MBA, PhD Coordinator
Professor of Nursing Bachelor of Science in Nursing Program
Fanshawe College Algonquin College
London, Ontario Pembroke, Ontario
vii
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TO T H E I N ST RU C TOR
Morrison-Valfre’s Foundations of Mental Health Care in Unit IV, Patients With Psychological Problems, explores
Canada, first edition, is intended for students and practition- common behavioural responses and therapeutic interven-
ers of the health care professions. Basic and advanced learn- tions for illness, hospitalization, loss, grief, and depression.
ers will find the information in this text useful and easy to Maladaptive behaviours and mental health disorders are
apply in a variety of practice settings. Students in fields such described in chapters on somatoform, anxiety, eating, sleep-
as nursing, social work, respiratory therapy, physiotherapy, ing, mood, sexual, and dissociative disorders.
recreational therapy, occupational therapy, rehabilitation, The chapters in Unit V, Patients With Psychosocial
and medical assisting will find concise explanations of adapt- Problems, relate to the important social concerns of anger
ive and maladaptive human behaviours, as well as the most (and its expressions), suicide, abuse and neglect, acquired
current therapeutic interventions and treatments. immunodeficiency syndrome (AIDS), and substance use.
Practising health care providers—all who care for patients Sexual and personality disorders are also discussed. Chapters
in a therapeutic manner—will find this book a practical and on schizophrenia and chronic mental illness focus on a multi-
useful guide in any health care setting. disciplinary approach to treatment. The text concludes with
At its core, this text has three main goals: a chapter titled “Challenges for the Future,” which prepares
1. To help soften the social distinction between mental students for the coming changes in mental health care.
“health” and mental “illness”
2. To assist all health care providers in comfortably work-
ing with patients who exhibit a wide range of maladaptive
STANDARD FEATURES
behaviours • Several key features are repeated throughout the text:
3. To apply the concepts of holistic care when assisting Objectives stated in specific terms and a list of Key Terms
patients in developing more adaptive attitudes and behav- (most with pronunciations) and page numbers.
iours • The nursing process is applied to specific mental health
Unit I, Mental Health Care: Past and Present, provides a challenges throughout the text, with emphasis on multi-
framework for understanding mental health care. The evolu- disciplinary care. This helps readers understand the inter-
tion of care for persons with mental challenges from primitive actions of several health care disciplines and determine
to current times is described. Selected ethical, legal, social, where they fit in the overall scheme of managed care.
and cultural issues relating to mental health care are explored. • A continuum of responses describes the range of behav-
Community mental health care is explained, followed by iours associated with each topic.
chapters pertaining to theories of mental illness and comple- • Development throughout the life cycle relates to the
mentary and alternative therapies. A chapter on psychothera- aspect of each personality being studied.
peutic medication therapy ends the unit. • Clinical disorders include behavioural signs and symp-
Unit II, The Caregiver’s Therapeutic Skills, focuses on toms based on the DSM-5.
the skills and conditions necessary for working with patients. • Therapeutic interventions include multidisciplinary treat-
Eight principles of mental health care are discussed and then ment, medical management, application of the nursing pro-
applied to the therapeutic environment, the helping rela- cess, and pharmacological therapy.
tionship, and effective communications. Material devoted • Each chapter concludes with Key Points that serve as a
to self-awareness encourages readers to develop introspec- useful review of the chapter’s concepts.
tion—a necessary component for working with people who
have behavioural difficulties. Readers explore common basic
human needs, personality development, stress, anxiety, crisis,
FEATURES OF THE FIRST CANADIAN EDITION
and coping behaviours. The section concludes with a descrip- The First Canadian Edition builds on the work of the venerable
tion of the basic mental health assessment skills needed by US-based text. Information specific to Canada and Canadian
every health care provider. research, programs, and practices has been included, giving
The patients for whom we care are the subject of Unit III, readers a current and clinically relevant perspective on the
Mental Health Challenges Across the Lifespan, which focuses state of mental health care in Canada.
on the growth of “normal” (adaptive) mental health behaviours Throughout the text, a focus on the Canadian health care
during each developmental stage. The most common mental system and the influence of the Canada Health Act have been
health challenges associated with children, adolescents, adults, maintained. Medications referenced are currently used and
and older persons are discussed using the Diagnostic and available in Canada.
Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM-5) as a frame- Where applicable, DSM-IV diagnoses and references from
work. A chapter on dementia and Alzheimer’s disease discusses the American Psychiatric Association have been updated to
the care of patients who have cognitive impairments. the current DSM-5.
ix
x TO THE INSTRUCTOR
CHAPTER FEATURES
Case Studies contain critical thinking questions to help you
develop problem-solving skills.
xi
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ACKNOWLED GEMENT S
Much appreciation to Professor Lisa-Marie Forcier for her assistance with research and clinical
scenarios and for her dedication to battling the stigma of mental illness.
Eric MacMullin
No text is written alone. The continued support of my husband, Adolph; of my friend Marian
McCollum; and of other colleagues has provided the energy to complete this project when
my own energy was low. The guidance, expertise, and encouragement from my editors Nancy
O’Brien, Becky Leenhouts, and Mike Sheets are much appreciated. I also thank all the health care
providers who so freely share their time and expertise with those who want to learn more about
the dynamic and complex nature of human behaviour.
Michelle Morrison-Valfre
The product you are holding in your hands or viewing on your screen exists as a result of a great
deal of work, research, and review. Although authors tend to get the most obvious credit (after all,
it is our names that appear on the cover), a text of this nature would be entirely impossible if not
for the work of many dedicated publishing professionals.
Although we have worked diligently to “Canadianize” the venerable Morrison-Valfre text,
many other unsung heroes have toiled away to make this text as valuable to you, the reader, as
humanly possible. Although it would be almost impossible to list them all, there are three individ-
uals we would like to thank specifically.
Content Strategist/Acquisitions person extraordinaire Roberta Spinosa-Millman recognized
the need for a specifically Canadian, fundamental text that addresses how we—as Canadians—
approach, treat, and recognize mental health. Roberta pulled together three very different auth-
ors/mental health practitioners and set the foundation for us to work together to produce what
we consider to be an excellent text and reference. Thank you, Roberta, for the dual opportunities
of producing a text of this nature and of allowing us the honour to work together.
Somehow balancing Zen-like patience along with a subtle ability to kindly motivate and dir-
ect, Content Development Specialist Martina van de Velde worked extensively to ensure that our
efforts were consistent and relevant. Many, many thanks to her for her collaboration, profession-
alism, and kindness. Again, for the times we did not get chapters completed on time, missed a
deadline, or simply forgot, we offer apologies and, in equal measure, sincere admiration.
Finally, our “almost at the finish line” copy editor, Jerri Hurlbutt, who has a keen eye for detail,
word, and idea flow and for use of reference and Internet-accessible information, took a some-
times rough draft and turned it into something of equal measures of accuracy and art. Jerri has
also motivated and inspired us with her efficiency and work ethic. We simply cannot imagine this
final product without Jerri’s input and direction.
There are many, many others who were involved in getting this text from our brains into your
hands, and to those far-too-anonymous people, we also give our sincere thanks. Sales staff, printers,
clerical workers, technicians, and others have all played a vital role in making this text available.
Boris Bard
Eric MacMullin
Jacqueline Williamson
xiii
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CONTENTS
xv
xvi CONTENTS
“He may have a little, then more before we leave,” Zargo decided,
so they arranged a roll of blankets to raise Kramer’s head, and he
was ready to eat.
“I can feed him, Old Man,” Bob offered. “Don Haurea wants to go
up the cliff to where the plane took off. When you come back we’ll
go home. It’s been a nice large night and a good time was had by
all.”
“Yes, sir,” Carl agreed, but he wasn’t especially keen about being
left behind, for although he had caught occasional glimpses of the
owner of the Box-Z this was the first time he had come into close
contact with the man who was something of a mystery to his
neighbors, and more so to the natives of Crofton, so the deputy
greatly regretted not being a member of the investigating party.
“You are a good soldier,” said the tall man, who was, on close
acquaintance, proving so very unformidable.
“Thank you, sir.” Carl was immediately eager to take his part in
upholding the law and guarding the wounded. The rest of the party
got into great coats, wrapped mufflers about their necks, and pulled
fur caps over their ears. The three men had strong flashlights, and
presently they stepped out into the night anxious to explore the
vicinity as quickly as possible. Their first journey was to the scene of
the explosion, which interested Don Haurea very little, and finally
they made their way to the trail where they began the steep climb to
the ledge.
They had to exercise care, for the explosion had loosened huge
chunks of rock and ice and as they proceeded Jim was amazed that
the plane had not been damaged. At last they reached the spot, but
as far as the boy could see there was nothing gained by the trip.
However, Don Haurea made his way close to the steep cliff, which
rose almost straight as a wall with several broken sections. Carefully
the man investigated all of them and a moment after he disappeared
into the last one, they heard him call sharply to his servant, who
responded immediately, the Austins following close on his heels. To
their utter astonishment they saw something huddled in a heap
against a rock and as the lights turned fully upon it, they whistled.
“It—why Dad, it’s Jute—Pigeon Jute. I’d forgotten him.” Zargo was
bending over the Indian, his capable fingers moving swiftly, then he
said something to the Don, and an instant later picked the man up in
his arms.
“He was shot,” Don Haurea explained briefly. “We will get him
where it is warm and see if we can help him.”
“It would be a good plan,” the Don answered, so the boy led the
way down the treacherous trail. Zargo might have been carrying an
infant for all the effort it took, and finally they were again in the
bunkhouse. Bob was too amazed for even the mildest of
exclamations, but he jumped in and arranged a bunk.
“We found him near where the plane was,” Mr. Austin explained.
Then they waited silently while Zargo examined the Indian, and after
what seemed hours, he looked up.
“In a moment he will return to consciousness,” he announced, and
he was right. Pigeon Jute opened his dark eyes, looked from one to
the other, then tried to raise himself. Don Haurea spoke to him in his
own language and the Indian’s eyes lighted. After a minute, he
spoke a few sentences, and when he was finished the Don nodded.
“He says that for some time he has been selling—or delivering
long distance flying pigeons to Arthur Gordon. He was in the north
at the time of the trouble at the Box-Z, so did not hear of it until a
few days ago after he had delivered several carriers to a ranch
outside of Crofton. When he learned of the difficulty he started to
find young Gordon to collect his money. He trailed him to the ranch,
but could not locate him until this morning. When you boys left the
dugout Jute started up the trail. He was behind the cliffs when the
place blew up and was coming back to see if you were hurt when he
saw Gordon leap into the plane. He tried to prevent it, but was shot
for his pains.”
“Yes, but not so well as his own tongue, which is less effort while
he is so weak,” Don Haurea replied.
“Whistling Pigs,” exclaimed Bob, “reckon that’s why Gordon did not
favor us with any more lead.”
“Merely shipped from there. The man told Jute they had sold the
place and were waiting for the last birds he brought down.”
“Shipped by rail?”
“Truck, and probably that truck will not appear in the
neighborhood again. From the plane, Gordon no doubt dropped a
warning, or several of them, and every trace will be obliterated at
once.”
“Both of them,” was the decision. “I shall take Jute to the Box-Z.”
“Well, don’t broadcast it, why shouldn’t you have some glory!”
They lost no time in getting the two wounded men into the
limousines and although Mr. Austin urged Carl to come to the ranch,
the deputy decided to wait for instructions from the sheriff, so at last
they drove off, leaving the young fellow alone, but this time there
was no anxiety regarding his safety. Seated beside his father, Jim’s
eyes stared ahead and his mind was busy. He felt it was a beastly
shame that the new plane should have been lost before they had
had it twenty-four hours, and although they had made the trip for
the mail and newspapers, the bag was now no-one-knew where and
the family was deprived of its second investment. The boy was
feeling too blue over the theft to discuss the matter so he resolutely
tried to put it out of his mind. He thought of young Gordon, with his
limited supply of gas, but he had absolutely no hope that the outlaw
would be captured. In the first place, it had been hours from the
time the machine took off from the cliff before the sheriff could send
the alarm, and by that time Gordon would have made good his
escape. There were dozens of ways by which he might replenish the
fuel supply and go on to the Mexican border, or almost any place. To
be sure, a description of the machine would be sent forth but that
did not help matters much.
Finally the two cars reached the point in the road where the
Austins turned into their own ranch house. As he sped by, Don
Haurea waved to the occupants in the other car. Then Jim wondered
how it was the Indian had been discovered. He recalled the man’s
interest in the cliff, his investigating each crevice, and the finding of
Jute. Then another query popped into his mind.
“I have heard that as a boy, the Don was always interested in the
various tribes and made a point of learning all he could about them.
Here we are—and, oh what a shame—” He broke off quickly when
he saw the house lighted from top to bottom and knew that Mrs.
Austin had not gone to bed, although it was nearly morning. Before
they drove to the door, it was thrown open.
“The doctor came from Crofton and is waiting,” Mrs. Austin called,
and a moment later the medical man came to help his patient into
the house. Over the eastern rim of the mountains the first faint
streaks of dawn were breaking before the buddies were ready for
bed.
“Yes, this is the K-A.” There was a slight pause, then, “yes, wait,”
“Oh, Galloping Snails, that’s great, Sheriff! Will you hold the wire a
moment please? I say, Dad they found the plane—”
“No, not a trace of him. Dad, they have got the plane near an
aviation field. It’s smashed up some, but not bad, just a few little
things—”
“Ask them to do it, and if they have a pilot, have him fetch it home
as soon as it is ready. We are certainly fortunate.”
“All right, Sheriff. Thanks a lot for calling us.” Jim hung up the
receiver, and everyone was eager to hear the details.
“I suppose Gordon came down in the night and sneaked off,” Bob
suggested.
“It surely is, Mom. I say, Buddie, was the parachute there?”
“The third one was gone. Gosh, Gordon must have hopped
overboard when he saw he couldn’t get very far. Did his exit before
anyone could start a search for him. She’s one grand little bus—
intelligent animal, to make her own landing all by her lonesome.
That ought to make Kramer feel pretty cocky—some talking point for
his advertising department.”
“Better run up and tell him. He was feeling badly last night over
the loss, and now that the machine will—”
“Be coming home to roost,” Bob grinned. “I’ll break the good news
to him gently.” He raced upstairs to tell the salesman, who was
delighted and no end set up over the achievement of the machine.
While they were discussing the matter, the Box-Z limousine drove
up, and Jim went to admit the caller. He discovered that it was
Zargo.
“Guess not, Old Timer. I’ll linger around and keep Kramer from
getting rusty, but you ooze along.” Ten minutes later, Jim was in the
big car, which was a particularly powerful, smooth-running machine,
and now it ate up the miles as it rushed over the road that wound
along the edge of Cap Rock.
“Dad told me that when he was a boy this was the stage-coach
road. The drivers used to go lickity-split—mostly split—and when the
passengers got out most of them would be black and blue from the
bumps,” Jim remarked.
“Those days are not so far distant,” Zargo replied. “Your father’s
generation has seen many changes.”
“That’s a hot one. A bad place where bad people go when they
are dead. Where they have to atone for their sins,” Jim answered.
“I should say you have given the matter a good deal of thought.”
“Well, I have some,” the boy flushed. “You know, when you are
flying, way up in the sky—through the heavens, no matter what they
were doing, it does set a chap’s thinking machine to working. Gosh,
I’ll be glad when we get our new plane fixed. When they fetch it
home, Bob and I are going to take it to bed with us so nothing can
happen to it—wow, here we are.”
The car went purring along the drive under the snow laden
willows whose long branches rustled and murmured as the breeze
stirred them. It stopped before the door, which was promptly opened
by the man servant, and a minute later, Don Haurea was welcoming
his pupil, who lost no time in divesting himself of outer garments.
“Yes, sir. He’s still got some things he wants to read, and I guess
he thought if he stayed at home, it would be a little easier on Mom,
and Bob sort of likes to take care of sick things. It tickles him pink if
he can doctor a chicken, especially if it gets well,” Jim laughed, then
added earnestly, “Bob’s a great buddie.”
“He certainly is,” the man agreed promptly.
“I say, Don Haurea, did you know that Pigeon Jute was up there in
those rocks? I’ve been wondering all night.”
“That’s so, I’d like to say hello to Yncicea, haven’t done it for a
week. Does he celebrate Christmas, I mean the way we do?”
“With the rest of the world he enjoys a holiday,” the man nodded.
The two went leisurely into the long, cheery living room, to the
panel in the wall which was now a familiar object to Jim, but he
recalled that first day the Don had opened the way to the little
elevator, which had been installed during the days of the present
owner’s grandfather. Without waiting, the boy pressed the tiny knot,
and as he did so, his mind leaped back to the summer day when the
Gordons and Burnam had led a crazy mob to the ranch, and an
airplane machine gunner viciously fired his deadly rounds into the
house in an attempt to destroy its occupants. The whole scheme had
failed because Jim had managed, despite wounds, to press his
bleeding hands against a small button on one of the pillars on the
veranda, releasing an invisible wall of electricity which caught the
invaders. Today the door slid smoothly, the pair stepped inside and
immediately began to descend to the beautifully built under-ground
work and experimental laboratories. Presently they were in the long
tiled hall, the boy went at once to his own closet where he changed
to the close-fitting white suit and soft sandals.
“Yncicea,” he called.
“Jim, Old Scout,” came the laughing response. “In Texas you are
to have a white Christmas.”
“We surely are,” Jim laughed. “Bob’s mother is crazy about it, says
it’s exactly like when she was a girl in Vermont—you know—”
“Right you are. Well, it’s great to see you, and your father wants
to speak to you. So long, Old Man.”
At this point the picture changed and Jim found himself watching
a group of men who were apparently in some part of Don Haurea’s
laboratory. They too were interested in observing Arthur Gordon’s
actions, but that part of the record moved to another point in the
laboratory, where two men were busy before a huge piece of
machinery, with a complicated looking set of dials and wheels. One
of the men who had been watching Gordon came close to them. He
seemed to be giving some directions, and Jim saw a pointer set,
other wheels turned, then a small tube of liquid was poured into a
grooved opening, and the men waited. Again the scene changed and
Austin saw the new airplane land on the cliff, and he watched with
interest every move which he knew the four of them had made right
up to the minute when they left the dug-out with Carl and Jute
running on ahead. Their own part in what followed was cut off; the
picture showed the men in the laboratory and as they stood before
the mysterious machine they were observing the inside of the dug-
out.
“Oh, now I know why you examined those crevices.” The Don had
joined him and he nodded quietly.
“Yes. Gordon was ready to leave and he had a bomb which he was
setting. He intended it to go off while Summers was alone so the
young fellow would be blown to pieces. Unfortunately we had to
wait until you boys and Mr. Kramer were a safe distance away, then
when we disturbed the bomb, it made a slight noise, which Gordon
recognized, so he ran for his life and managed to save it. He rigged
up the explosive earlier in the day and was going to start it while
Carl was making his rounds, so we decided to let the destructive
thing be his own undoing; it seemed the surest way of getting him.”
“Well, now you understand exactly what took place, shall we turn
our attention to aeronautics?”
“Yes, sir, and I’d like to watch those chemical experiments.”
“Very good.” Presently the boy was seated in his own corner of the
great laboratory, a huge book on the table before him, and a
collection of shiny instruments and test-tubes waiting for use. He
glanced at the array affectionately, gave his head a little shake as he
thought how much he wanted to accomplish, then he set grimly to
work, forgetting everything else in the world. It wasn’t until Don
Haurea touched him on the shoulder to remind him that the hours
had passed, that he glanced away from his work.
The next two days were uneventful, although they were full of
suppressed excitement because they were the last before Christmas,
and on every huge ranch great preparations were going forward for
the holiday. Kramer improved rapidly, and so did Jute, and at last the
great date arrived. Homes were decorated with greens, extra bells
were attached to harnesses, and cooks were putting the last touches
on feasts which were to be spread in homes and bunkhouses. The
repaired plane had arrived from the shop early Christmas Eve, and
the Flying Buddies went gleefully off to Crofton for newspapers and
mail, to say nothing of packages which had accumulated at the post
office. They came back as laden as a pair of Santa Clauses, and the
entire evening was spent in preparations for the next day. No word
had come from the sheriff, so the boys knew that young Gordon had
made good his escape. Not even a trace of the parachute had been
discovered.
“See in the back.” There were two cock-pits, the machine was a
four-passenger, or three-passenger beside the pilot, and the Flying
Buddies walked around her, but the back was as empty as the front.
They even glanced at the rigging expecting to discover someone
hanging on, but not a soul did they see.
“Tell you what, bet somebody lost her. Remember, that’s the way
our plane came down, or it came something like that,” Bob declared.
“Sure. Well, we can soon find out about her. Gosh, isn’t she a
beauty, Buddy!”
“Boys, bring your guest inside,” Mom called from the veranda.
“You haven’t your big coats on.”
“By George, she looks as if she might have been made for
Lindbergh.” It took them only a moment to find a pair of small
latches on the outside of the cock-pit cover, but before they lifted it,
Bob exclaimed.
“That’s so, but perhaps it snaps shut.” They lifted the cover, much
as they would lift the hood of an automobile, and they saw that the
main section folded into a long narrow space. Everything about the
plane was brand new. The seats were heavy shiny brown leather
with lighter shade trimmings. In front of the pilot’s seat the control
board looked, at first glance, like any other machine’s, but on closer
inspection they found it was equipped with several extra dials and
indicators. On each side of the cock-pit were a pair of long slender
glasses. There was a radio, for receiving and transmitting, speaking
tube, hamper for the traveler’s convenience. The mirror was the
shape of a globe and it had a reflector to cut off any part, or act as a
protection for the whole sphere. It looked to the boys as if the
altitude meter registered not only the height above the sea level, but
it would automatically change according to the nature of the
territory over which it would fly.
“I’ll—why Buddy!” That was all Austin could say and he held out
the envelope, which he had turned over. “Look!” Caldwell stared, and
read mechanically.
Gentlemen:
“You did not fear to accept the invitation,” Don Haurea smiled as
Jim shoved the cover from over the cock-pit.
“Not so that you could notice it,” Jim declared. “Wow, what a bird.”
“My son and I both feel that the several services you Flying
Buddies have rendered us certainly warrant some token—”
“Token, great heavens, Don Haurea—oh, but she’s a beauty. How
did you send her over and bring her back?” Bob demanded.
“A very simple little instrument. You will notice one of the dials is a
little different color from the other controls. It is now set, in time as
it were, with a section of our plant here, and was controlled from the
laboratory. You have demonstrated that part; we will show you the
ordinary method of plane piloting in a very few minutes. One thing I
shall ask is that you do not mention the fact that she is equipped to
operate from a central power-control. There are five stations in the
world from which she can be directed, and in an emergency, even
though she ran out of gas she could be kept up. I’d suggest that you
keep the dial turned to the lowest notch, that will tune-in whenever
you are flying, and in case of accident it may save you some
trouble.”
“May I ask where the power control comes from? but I suppose it
comes from here,” Jim said.
“It did for today’s demonstration. There are five stations in the
world; four beside this one of mine. One is in South America, one in
India, one in China, and the other in England.”
“I suppose there are more planes like this one,” remarked Jim.
“A few.”
“That’s all that is necessary. Now, I must go inside. Zargo will tell
you how she works, then I expect, although I regret that you cannot
pay me a visit this morning, that you would better get back, for you
are A.W.O.L., and Mrs. Austin will be anxious.”
“She sure will, and Jim, they are waiting to open the packages,”
Bob reminded his step-brother.
“We’ll hustle.” It took Zargo only a few minutes to point out the
different parts and explain their use. At last the two were again
closed in the snug little cabin and Jim was in the pilot’s seat. He had
no difficulty getting home, but when they dropped down by their
own house, the elder Austins were looking for them.
“See what Santa Claus brought us,” Bob shouted. Then the gift
had to be admired, and although the two grown-ups thought it was
a pretty extravagant one, they could not protest against its
acceptance.
“We do not scorn your purchase, Dad, but learning to fly isn’t a
half bad idea. While Mr. Kramer is here, why not have him give you
lessons? He’ll be glad to.”
After the feast early in the afternoon, they wrapped Mr. Kramer
warmly in blankets so he couldn’t possibly take cold, then he was
seated on the fence of the corral from which vantage point he could
have a first class view of the rodeo put on by the men of the K-A
and the Cross-Bar ranches. Jim brought him some peanuts, so it
would seem like a real circus, and the young man from the north
announced when the last horse had made his bow, that it was the
best he had ever witnessed.
“They don’t,” Bob interrupted. “I say, where did you learn to fly?
In a kindergarten? The ones Buddy and I were taken up in did more
kinds of fan-fishing, and jumping than any bronc.”
“And you have to do that for Dad and Mom,” Jim announced.
PARTS UNKNOWN
During the two weeks which followed, the elder Austins, under the
able tutelage of Mr. Kramer, and the additional assistance of their
sons, became remarkably proficient in flying the ranch plane, also,
the Sky Buddies became thoroughly acquainted with the “Lark,”
which was the name of their own super-machine. Then the salesman
removed himself to Crofton, where his firm had a new plane waiting
for him and he expected to demonstrate it for prospective
purchasers. Already the sheriff was watching its performance with
keen interest and it looked as if that worthy might become the
possessor of one of the birds. Although the boys spent a good deal
of time in the air, neither of them neglected his studies with Don
Haurea, and Caldwell could hardly wait until spring came in order to
put some of his information into practice. One afternoon, Mr. Austin
came out of his office with a letter which had come in the morning’s
mail.
“Oh, Jim.”
“Yes, sir.” The boy hurried to learn what was wanted, and
presently they were seated at the big desk.
“Golly, what a trip that will be, Dad,” the boy exclaimed. “Be gone
long, sir?”
“Taking Mom?”
“Humph. That is a good suggestion, but I do not know that the air
service will help me. Although, come to think of it, I read recently
that they are running trips to the southern part of Chile—perhaps I
can get some information on the—”
“I say, Dad, what’s the matter with you? We have two planes right
here on the ranch. Furthermore, you can fly yours—”
“No, of course not. I was just thinking that you could help out
some of the time. You aren’t like a tenderfoot in the air. We’ll take
you in the “Lark”—and it will be a grand lark—”
“You did, and got into all sort of things,” Mr. Austin chuckled. “This
would have to be a very serious trip, few stop-overs, and return
home just as soon as I conclude my business. I don’t know about
taking you away from your studies.”
“We can take a couple of books along with the luggage. Now,
Dad, don’t be a kill joy. This business deal is important, isn’t it?”
“Goodness, Mother, didn’t we go all over the country, find our way
and come back without so much as a broken wire?”
“Yes, you did, but you got into so many adventures. Of course you
didn’t have anything serious happen to you, but you were in your
own country, or Canada, which is almost the same, and you did not
have to travel over long stretches of water,” she persisted.
“It’s just as safe over water as land, Mom. We’d stop at some port
to be sure that everything was ship-shape before we started to
cross, and it can be made in several hops, not all at a clip, as
Lindbergh did. His mother didn’t object, so you be a good sport,
please.”
“His mother must have had some awful hours. I’m sure that every
minute of them seemed like a life time,” she sighed in sympathy.
“Perhaps they did, but we’ll be just as cautious as Lindy was. We’ll
have everything in proper order, and take good care to keep it that
way,” Bob assured her. “Besides, if Dad can get there ahead of time,
and those fellows are planning to put something over on him, we’ll
get him there early and he can give them the laugh. Then, we’ll be
home in time to start things this spring.”
“It won’t be like when we went alone,” Jim added. “Dad will be
along and he will see that we do not go butting into any mischief.”
“Well—” She looked at her husband. “What do you think about it?”
“The more I think about it the more it appeals to me, my dear, but
I do not want to influence you unduly. As Jim says, I shall be along,
it’s a business trip, no sky-larking adventure, and I rather feel that
our Flying Buddies will be thoroughly reliable. They must both realize
that it is a serious undertaking—”
“Sure, Dad, we do; we aren’t kids any more, we’re grown up—”
The two real grown-ups smiled at this, and although they did not
dispute the argument, neither of them could agree that seventeen
and sixteen were exactly mature.
“Atta girl!” Bob shouted. He picked her up in his arms and swung
her off the floor just to prove how big he really was.
“Robert!” His mother protested, so he sat her down again.
“Gosh, Mom, you haven’t called me that since I put the cat in the
frying pan,” he grinned.
“It did, and after Mom got through with me, I felt as if I had been
sitting in it. Wow, she did wave a wicked palm! It makes me warm to
think of it,” he laughed.
“No, thanks. Dad isn’t using the freighter, so I’ll take that, and
carry some pots back,” Bob answered. The “Freighter” was the name
the Flying Buddies had named the ranch plane.
“I think it isn’t very respectful to call the plane Dad and I use a
freighter—are we the freight?” his mother demanded with assumed
indignation.
A bit later the two boys took off from the open corral, and the
difference in the two machines was immediately evident. The “Lark”
rose, like the bird from which her name was borrowed, while the
other plane went into the air at a more gradual ascent, and by the
time Bob had reached sufficient altitude to set his course, Jim was
becoming a speck in the distance. It did not take him long to reach
Don Haurea’s and leaving the bus with one of the men. He
proceeded to the laboratory where he knew he would find the Don
busy at work.
“I expect you can, sir. Fact is, Dad has to go to Peru, place in the
southern part called Cuzco—”
“Cuzco?”
“Rather.”
“They are exceptionally fine and were compiled after years of the
most careful study. Now, let me see, going directly across Mexico
would seem like the better course, but I advise you to go to Miami,
over the Keys, to Havana, to Belize in British Honduras (you’ll have
no trouble finding people with whom you can talk), then to Panama,
across and down the coast line to Lima. Cuzco is inland.”
“That sounds like a good route.” Jim examined the map carefully.
“It gives us plenty of places to come down.”
“Yes. A part of the way the N. Y. R. B. A. air lines have mail and
passenger service.”
“Yes. I’ll have one of the boys make you an itinerary so that you
can be over the water during the daytime unless you get in too big a
hurry. May I ask why you are going?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Well, this route will really be the better one, and with two pilots
you can stay in the air as long as you like. I have been in Peru, and
don’t forget to take light clothing. It is very hot, unless you get back
into the mountains. Cuzco is two hundred miles from Lima and is
more temperate than places west of the Andes.”
“Thank you.”
“Now, you better leave the “Lark” here until you are ready to start.
Our men will put her in order for you, and I’ll see that she has one
or two extra conveniences. She is built to withstand acids—”
“Of course not, but if your father is planning to give his associates,
some of them, a surprise, you want to be prepared. Men of this age
are frequently particularly vicious if their financial plans are
threatened. This is something you want to remember, and so, do not
take any chances.” The Don spoke so earnestly that Jim was
sobered.
“It isn’t always the isolated spots where the greatest evil is
committed. Be on your guard all of the time. I do not mean for you
to be stupidly fearful, but be precautious.”
“I understand. Thank you, Don Haurea, and you bet I’ll be glad to
have all the trimmings that the “Lark” will carry.”
“All right. You might study these maps while you are here, and
later I’ll send Zargo home with you, unless you will dine with me. I
have not had young company for some weeks.”
“I’ll have the boys set to work on her at once. When do you
expect to leave?”
“Not for a couple of days anyway. I know that Dad can’t start
before that.”
Jim bent over the maps, made a memorandum of the route the
Don had suggested, a rough sketch on which he marked various
items of importance, and when the man came to tell him it was time
to go to dinner, the boy could hardly believe it. Half an hour later
they were seated in the cheery living room, and the meal was being
served. Through the first course they discussed this and that, then
suddenly Jim remembered that Don Haurea had said he had been in
Peru.
“It must be an interesting country, down there, sir. Did you like it
when you were in Peru?”
“We studied its history in school, and I read some extra books
about the Conquistadores. Most of the writers soft peddled the old
duffers, but I got a hunch they were a pretty hot lot. Pizzaro and his
brothers—they were half brothers. Only one of them got back to
Spain, and he spent twenty years in prison. The Marquis Francisco
was assassinated, one brother was killed by the Indians, and the
other was hanged. Rather a come-down from being chief moguls,
but I wasn’t a bit sorry for them, they were a—” Jim saw Don
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