should let ya take my plane, ya slimy snake!"

With a snap of Grecko's fingers, the shotguns were aimed directly at Baloo and Kit. "How 'bout two good reasons?"

Glancing at Kit, Baloo gulped. "Those are good reasons."

"Tie 'em up, mates."

As their hands were being roughly tied behind their backs, Kit flashed Baloo a look that clearly said, What do we do now? Baloo's look replied, I dunno.

Just when they gave themselves up for lost, there were three hollow sounds like foom, foom, foom and Grecko and his goons were covered in a yellow substance.

"What in the…?" Grecko cried.

The ostrich exclaimed, "It's...aa-aa-achoo!...pollen."

"What's that blinkin' buzzing sound?" the dingo asked.

"Bees!"

A swarm of hungry bees headed for the criminals in order to get to the pollen only to be swatted aside. The angry bees turned on their assailants and stung them, prompting cries and curses.

Professor Bontrotter calmly sauntered out of the forest, over to his traveling companions. He held a hollow tube that looked like a blow dart and an empty jar. His eyes twinkling behind his spectacles, he teased, "Do I have time to collect more insect specimens?"

"No!" Baloo and Kit exclaimed simultaneously.

"Untie us, Professor! Quick!"

As soon as they were freed from their bonds, pilot, navigator, and professor pounded up the Sea Duck's back hatch and closed the door. In record time, Baloo had the seaplane careening down the bumpy runway and in the air.

But it wasn't fast enough.

Grecko crawled out of the stream, his face swelling from numerous bee stings, his heart seething with anger. He picked up a shotgun that one of his henchmen had dropped and shot at the escaping Sea Duck, causing the port engine to burst into flames.

Aboard the Sea Duck…

Baloo, struggling to keep the seaplane steady, shouted, "The number one engine, Kit! The number one engine!"

As Kit frantically flipped switches to turn off the burning engine, Baloo shouted, "Hang on! We're goin' down!"

The plane spiraled towards the dark ocean.

End of part 2

In Search of Moe Chances
Part 3

TaleSpin and its characters are the property of Disney / Buena Vista and are used without permission.

Aboard the Sea Duck
The Next Morning…

Baloo awoke, stiff from the crash landing. He peeled himself off the steering column, rubbed his aching head and mumbled, "Did anybody get the number of that mountain?"

From the silence, he knew he was alone in the plane.

He opened the cockpit door and called, "Kit? Professor?" Then louder, more desperately, he bellowed, "Kiiiit!"

To his great relief, he heard the boy reply, "We're over here, Baloo."

The pilot joined Kit and Professor Bontrotter, who was studying the terrain through his binoculars. It appeared that they were standing on the top of a hill overlooking a small island. To their left, in the middle of the island, was a volcano with wisps of smoke issuing from the cone. Directly in front of them was a gently sloping hill, covered with a tangle of vegetation, that led down to sandy beaches.

"Where are we?" the big bear finally asked after he had dazedly taken in their surroundings.

"I don't know," Kit replied. "This island isn't on any map."

Baloo turned around. Beyond the battered, bruised, and blackened Sea Duck, the hazy Out'n'outback coastline was visible approximately twenty miles away. "How come?"

Kit shrugged uneasily. This looked like an ordinary island, but something wasn't right. Unbelievably, it felt like it was surrounded by magic. But he, who had ridden on a fabled Yenkara's back, was willing to believe anything.

Professor Bontrotter said, "It appears we are not the only inhabitants."

Baloo snatched the hippo's binoculars and peered through them. Across the island, he could see a thin trail of black campfire smoke wafting into the air. Handing the binoculars back to the professor, he said, "Let's go pay our new neighbors a visit."

Later…

After a long, hot trek through the thick vegetation, our trio of explorers reached a small clearing where a campfire was ablaze. Over the fire was a large pot with bubbling contents, which smelled surprisingly appetizing. Nearby was a crude shelter made up of sticks covered with what appeared to be a silvery tarp.

To their surprise, no one was around.

"Hey, that looks like a piece of Uncle Moe's balloon!" Baloo stepped into the clearing to get a closer look at the silvery tarp. "Maybe he's...whoa!" he exclaimed as his ankle was encircled by a rope snare concealed under a pile of leaves, whisking him into the air.

"Baloo!" Kit and the professor cried simultaneously. As they ran to help their friend, they were also caught in rope snares. "Whoa!"

"A rope tree trap. Fascinating," Bontrotter said happily. He looked like he was enjoying hanging upside-down, awaiting whatever horribleness fate had in store for him.

"Yeah, but only if you're not the trapp-ee," Baloo replied, twisting this way and that in a futile attempt to free himself. He only managed to twist the rope and make himself incredibly dizzy.

Kit, trying to wriggle out of the knot that was cutting into his ankle, muttered, "At least I won't have to pay for that overdue library book."

They all started when they heard a savage yell. All watched in open-mouthed amazement as a hang glider cut through camp...and crashed into the trees at the far side of the clearing.

Sputtering leaves and muttering angrily under his breath, a man disentangled himself from the crumpled hang glider. He was a young brown bear with a luxuriant mustache, pilot's cap, and flight jacket.

"Aw, you're not Uncle Moe," Baloo said, disappointed.

Craning his neck comically around to see the captives better, the hang glider pilot asked in a deep, easy-going voice, "Professor Bontrotter, is that you?"

The professor looked equally pleased to see him. "Why if it isn't Monty Mangrove, a fellow member of the International Explorers Club! You disappeared last year while trying to find the Land of the Lost. What happened?"

"I got lost. Crashed my plane. Practically the only thing left was the steering wheel," he chuckled good-naturedly.

The professor's eyes twinkled behind his spectacles. "Just like that time in Timbuckthree?"

Monty Mangrove nodded and began counting on his fingers. "And Mount Neverest and Goraboara and Malaria and…"

"Uh, I hate to break up this touching reunion," Baloo interjected, "but could you get us down?"

"Hang on a minute! Heh. Not like you're not hanging on, but..." Monty Mangrove hurried over to three ropes tied around the trunk of a tree.

Giving one tug on the ropes, thus releasing the knots, our trio of explorers dropped inelegantly to the ground with a chorus of "Oofs!"

Baloo lost no time in studying the silvery tarp that covered Monty Mangrove's shelter. "If ya don't mind my askin', where did you get this?"

"Right over here. There's a whole bunch of it." Monty Mangrove pushed past a row of bushy undergrowth and pointed. "There it is."

Perched precariously across the tops of two palm trees was the dirigible's gondola, leaning slightly to starboard. The remains of the tattered balloon hung limply from the rigid framework, rippling gently in the breeze. A rusted engine as well as bits of rope and wood were strewn on the ground below.

"That's it," Baloo said heavily. "Uncle Moe's dirigible. What's left of it anyways." He kicked at a piece of rotting rudder.

"If we could only get up to the gondola, there might be a clue to your uncle's whereabouts," the professor suggested.

"Let me try." Kit pulled his airfoil out from under his sweater. He grabbed one of the mooring ropes that was still tethered to the gondola, gave it a couple of tugs to make sure it was securely attached, and flicked open his airfoil. Sliding the airfoil beneath his feet, he half-pulled, half-glided up to the gondola.

Wrenching the door open, Kit cautiously slipped in. The moldy boards creaked under his feet. When the trees swayed in the breeze, the entire gondola shifted slightly, causing a couple of empty tin cans to skitter across the floor.

On a nearby shelf, Kit spied a book. He grabbed it and stuffed it under his sweater. Taking another look around, he admired the simple but elegant design of the controls. He tried to imagine Baloo as a young boy and his first flights in this machine.

Another ominous creak and a violent shifting of the gondola that threw him against the shelf warned him that he needed to get out of there fast.

With some difficulty, Kit shouldered open the rusty-hinged door and glided to the ground.

"Besides a few empty cans, this is all there was." Kit handed the book to Baloo.

"Uncle Moe's flight log." When Baloo flipped through its fragile pages, a piece of yellowed paper fell out. "Look!" he cried, scooping it up. "It has some of the same words as the note in the bottle."

To whomever finds this,

Due to a storm over New Seal Land, I have lost my airship's engine and was blown off course. My dirigible is beyond repair and no passing ships seem to be able to see me. After about a year here, I will be making alternative tracks off

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