“Hmm?” Steve answered groggily. He wore a stupid smile. It’s not over. I need you to take the controls so I can prop the plane. Those guys drained the battery.” “Ok, fly to get more batteries,” Steve said in his delirium. “No! no! no!” John yelled. “I have to hand prop the plane. Listen; just hold your feet on the brakes.” John climbed out and turned the propeller a couple of times and prepared for a starting kick. Then he saw a commotion in the jungle. Some of the natives were holding up the ponchos where he and Steve had been. So far they hadn’t seen him. “Please, God, let this start,” John prayed before throwing the propeller downward. It went around sputtering but not catching. The alerted natives looked and moved slowly toward the plane, taking cover as they advanced. “Great, an audience.” A hastily fired...
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