Kitabı oku: «Dave Dashaway Around the World: or, A Young Yankee Aviator Among Many Nations», sayfa 8
CHAPTER XXI
WAR
“What was that, Dave?” asked Hiram Dobbs.
“War,” replied the young pilot of the Comet, and he used the word very seriously, “we have taken the wrong course, but there’s no going back now.”
The champion biplane was sailing over a broad, deep valley two hours after dusk. Everything was in brisk going trim. The days that had elapsed since the rescued captive, Morris Deane, had been cared for by the young airmen had passed pleasantly. They had crossed Russia, had reported at Teheran, had seen some of the wonders of Arabia, and now were traversing Turkish territory.
The affairs of young Deane had been adjusted with supreme satisfaction for our hero. It warmed his loyal heart to think that through the unselfish efforts of the crew of the Comet, the brother of Edna Deane was now speeding safely and comfortably on his way to those who had mourned him.
The trader friend of Adrianoffski had done everything in his power to make sure the homeward journey of the fugitive. The young airman had insisted on paying him liberally for his cooperation. He had arranged so that Morris Deane could be provided with money current in the different countries through which he must pass. The trader was to convey Deane out of Thibet concealed in a cart carrying merchandise. He was to be provided with a disguise. Until he passed the Russian frontier and was placed upon a train bound for St. Petersburg, two trusty agents were to accompany and protect him.
The boys felt happy over all this. They had lost little time and gained some experience in doing a humane act. Then the regular schedule of progress was resumed. Now, as noted, Hiram had put a startling question. The pilot of the Comet had responded with an ominous assertion.
When Hiram had asked: “What was that?” a sudden glare in the distance followed by a harsh, detonating crash had caused his sudden query.
Our hero had explained that it was “War.” He intimated further that this was a possible menace to their expedition, in that they might not retrace the route they had come.
“I hoped to keep out of the Turkish trouble,” proceeded the young airman; “but we must take the edge of it, I fear. You know we passed over a great military camp just before dusk.”
“Yes, and they sent a brisk volley after us,” reminded Hiram.
“Without calculating the way the Comet can fly,” added Elmer, with a chuckle.
“We had better keep at a pretty high level just the same,” observed Dave. “I will be glad when we get out of these intricate mountain ranges. Then we can see what is ahead of us and get our bearings.”
Just then another explosion sounded. It was mingled with a series of minor reports, echoing from past the ridge of hills to the East.
“That sounded like a powder mill blowing up, followed by a lot of musket shots,” suggested Hiram.
“I have no doubt that it was a bomb,” replied Dave. “Fighting is going on somewhere beyond us.”
For some time echoes of near explosions reached the airship boys. Then there was a lapse into silence. The contour of the country changed and the hills lessened, and at length a level expanse spread out before them.
They could make out lights scattered all over the area. Here was a settlement, beyond it a town. Then in the distance they noticed what the young aviator decided to be a camp. Still farther beyond, flashes and booms apprised him that some kind of a combat was going on.
“We had better get out of this,” remarked the young pilot.
“O-oh!” fairly shouted Hiram, in spellbound wonder.
Of a sudden, from the direction of the camp, there shot up a broad, dazzling beam of radiance. It moved steadily, broadened and began to sweep the western horizon. Slowly traversing the sky, the sharp rays focused upon an object speeding through the air. A further sweep, and a duplicate for just an instant was framed by the piercing glow.
“A searchlight!” cried the startled Elmer.
“And two airships,” added Hiram. “Dave, what are we going to do?”
The young airman’s active brain was busy. He fancied he took in the situation. They were passing over a camp. Ahead of them was a walled town, now being attacked. The two airships to the west were probably bomb-carrying machines, stealing over the enemy to drop death-dealing projectiles into the midst of their camp.
“Dave,” whispered Elmer, almost too excited to speak, “we have been seen!”
This was true. A lateral sweep of the searchlight brought the Comet into clear view. The operator of the great eye of radiance focused the piercing rays directly upon the Comet. Then, sweeping along, for an instant only they showed an airship almost directly over the craft of the young aviators.
“Another one,” cried Hiram sharply – “ugh!”
He shivered. All hands felt a jar, an impact. They heard a distinct whiz.
“Something was dropped!” pronounced Elmer, hoarsely. “There!”
Directly beneath them some descending object reached the ground. There were a thousand darting sparks of fire, then a tremendous boom.
“An airship from that camp,” said Dave, rapidly. “They took us for one of the enemy! We must get out of range! Hold steady, fellows!”
The pilot of the Comet knew that the moment had arrived for prompt, expert tactics. There might be as swift machines as his own among the war craft in action, but he doubted if any of them was constructed to take the higher level the Comet could attain. The machine made a superb shoot on a sharp tangent. Its progress was so rapid that it almost took away the breath of the excited crew. Again the groping searchlight sought to reveal the situation aloft.
“Hurrah – safe! beat! They’re not even in the race,” crowed the jubilant Elmer.
The sweeping glow showed the machine that had dropped a bomb towards a supposed rival fully a thousand feet below the Comet. Now its pilot put on full speed. Out of range of camp, town and the firing limit the splendid biplane sailed.
Two days later, none the worse for their unique experience, the airship boys arrived at Cairo. The Comet seemed to be no particular novelty to the crowd which greeted its arrival in the center of a great public square. They greeted the machine and its crew, however, with cheers. Dave left the machine in charge of his assistants, who were kept busy answering questions from the curious bystanders.
It was nearly an hour before Dave returned. He arrived seated on a wagon containing new fuel and food supplies for the Comet.
“Going to make any kind of a stop here, Dave?” inquired Hiram.
“Not a minute longer than it is necessary,” was the speedy reply. “We are third in the race, fellows, and that means no delay.”
“Yes,” nodded Elmer excitedly, “a man in the crowd speaking English said he knew we were one of the machines in the international race, and that two others had reported here at Cairo and had left again.”
“That is true,” answered the young airman. “Number seven is three days ahead of us, number eleven, six hours. Help get things in order, fellows. We can’t afford to lose any time now.”
When the Comet started up again the cheers and good wishes of the crowd were renewed. Dave made a fifty-mile run, came down in a lonely spot, and at once brought out the route charts.
“Look here, fellows,” he said, his finger tracing a course across the map; “there are three routes to choose from. From Morocco, the Azores, or Senegal; the Cape Verde Islands, St. Paul Island, and Cayenne. Those are the routes most talked about at the start. They are favored because they are the farthest north and the most direct. I have a better, a least safer, idea.”
“I’ll warrant you have, Dave, if it’s to be found,” declared Hiram.
“What is it?” inquired Elmer.
“The objection to those routes,” explained the young airman, “is that the water stretches are of wide extent. What I dread most is the fear of being caught away from land.”
“Is there a shorter route than those you speak of?” asked Hiram.
“Yes, there is,” asserted Dave.
“What is it?”
“Egypt, the Sahara Desert, the French Congo, Ascension Island, St. Helena, Trinidad, Rio Janeiro, and we are on American soil.”
“Capital!” cried Hiram.
“I wouldn’t lose an hour, Dave,” advised Elmer, with real anxiety. “Ever since we found out that there are two of the crowd ahead of us, it seems as if I’d be willing to sleep in the seat in the machine all the way to get ahead of them.”
It was a warm, clear day when the Comet came to a rest at the city of Mayamlia, in French Congo. Looking back over the ten days consumed in making the run across Egypt, through Fezzan, the width of the great desert, over darkest Africa, and into the Soudan, the airship boys had viewed a country never before thus inspected by an aerial explorer.
“Baked, boiled, and soaked,” was the way Hiram put it, good-naturedly, but very grimly.
“And sandstorms and deluges,” added Elmer, with a grimace.
The flight had certainly been a hardy but instructive one. More than once the adventurous young aviators had a thrilling experience amidst unfamiliar air conditions. Twice they had been discovered in temporary camps by natives. The watchfulness and skill of their pilot had baffled efforts at capture.
“Just to think,” said Hiram, gazing longingly at the ocean – “just a bit of water to cover, and we are on home territory.”
“Yes,” smiled our hero, “it looks nice and easy on the map. Remember one thing, though, fellows: here at Mayamlia we take in full supplies. The food and fuel will be easy as far as Helena or Trinidad. Between those points and the final flight to Rio, though, the gasoline supply is what we must look out for.”
“We’re going to make it – I feel it in my bones!” crowed the optimistic Hiram Dobbs.
CHAPTER XXII
LOST IN THE AIR
“This is serious, fellows,” spoke Dave. “Get ready for the worst.”
“What is the worst?” inquired Elmer Brackett.
“A sudden drop. You had better have the breeches buoys ready.”
“Oh, Dave!” cried Hiram Dobbs, in actual distress. “You don’t mean to say that the brave old Comet is going back on us just as it looks as though the home stretch is right ahead of us?”
“It’s the fog, fellows,” explained Dave. “We have beaten around in it for twelve hours, until I feel certain we are all out of our course. In a word, we are lost.”
“Lost in the air!” exclaimed Hiram – “who’d ever have thought of it!”
“Yes, just like a ship in strange waters,” said Dave. “If we were not so far from the mainland we left last week, there might be some hope. According to my calculation, we have missed St. Helena. If that is true, we can count on no land this side of Trinidad.”
“That must be hundreds of miles away,” remarked Hiram.
“Worse than that,” declared Elmer, who was pretty well posted on chart and “log” details. “If the fog would only lift!”
“That is our only hope,” declared Dave. “I do not wish to alarm you, fellows; but we must face the music like men. I don’t believe the Comet will last out six hours.”
“As bad as that?” said Hiram, in a subdued tone.
“Yes,” asserted the young airman. “If we could sight some ship I would not hesitate to descend upon its deck. This fog, of course, shuts out any chance to depend on that. The trouble is with our wires. That strain we had in last night’s wind seems to have played havoc with the entire steering gear.”
“Can’t it be fixed?” inquired Elmer, anxiously.
“Not while we’re flying,” replied Dave. “You know, the post is really a lever and the wheel a handle. The cloche, or bell-like attachment that runs to the warping wires, has got out of kilter. You know, the steering post is made of one-inch, twenty-gauge steel tubing. At the lower end of this is a fork made of pieces of smaller tubing, bent and brazed into place. The fork forms part of the universal joint on which the post is mounted. From this run the warping wires through pulleys to the elevators.”
Hiram nodded intelligently at this technical explanation. Elmer, too, understood what their pilot wished to convey to them.
“Some of the tubing is loose,” continued the young airman. “I have felt it vibrate for the past hour. If any part gives way, and a puff of wind should come up, we will lose all control of the steering gear.”
“The mischief!” ejaculated Hiram, who always got excited readily. “We’re in a bad fix; aren’t we?”
“Bad enough to keep on a low level, for fear we may turn turtle at any moment,” declared Dave.
The young aviator had not misstated conditions. The situation was a critical one, and he had known it for some time. Even now, as they made a straight volplane, there was an ominous creak in the tubing joints, and the machine wabbled.
“Fellows, she’s going!” declared our hero. “We’ve got to drop or take a risk of a sudden plunge that may end everything.”
The Comet had no float attachment. Hiram got the breeches buoys and the life preservers ready. The fog was so heavy they could not see the sky above nor the sea beneath them. Dave allowed the machine to drift on a long, inclined dip. Something snapped. The Comet wavered from side to side but did not upset. There was a second sudden jar.
“Get ready. It’s a sure drop, any way we manage it,” shouted Dave.
All hands were ready to leap from the machine when it struck. Suddenly Dave shut off the power at a contact. The machine grated, ran on its wheels, and came to an astonishing but substantial standstill.
“Dave, Dave,” cried the delighted Hiram, springing out. “Land, solid land!”
“It can’t be! Must be a rock!” gasped Elmer, unbelievingly.
“Whoop! hurrah!” yelled Hiram. “Oh, glory!”
Dave’s young assistant acted mad as a March hare. He could not help it. He sang and danced. Then he reached down and grabbed up handfuls of the light sand at his feet, and flung it joyously up in the air as if it were grains of precious gold.
“Sure as you live,” exclaimed the bewildered Elmer. “It’s solid land – oh, what luck!”
The young aviator was filled with surprise and satisfaction. Such rare good fortune seemed incredible. He stood still, not caring if it was a sand bank or a desert island. They had escaped a fearful peril – and the Comet was safe.
“Who cares for the fog. Why, if it’s only a ten foot mud bank we’re so glad nothing else matters much just now,” declared the overwrought Hiram.
“It’s something better than that,” responded our hero brightly, all buoyed up now after the recent heavy strain on nerve and mind. “We must have landed on some island not down on the chart.”
“Let us explore,” suggested the impetuous Hiram.
“Let us eat first,” added the hungry Elmer. “It’s brought back my appetite, after that big scare.”
Dave went all over the machine, more with the sense of touch than actual eyesight inspection in that enveloping fog. He came back to his comrades not a whit discouraged.
“How is it, Dave?” asked Hiram.
“I can’t tell exactly,” was the reply. “Some of the tubing is loose and the gear is out of center. With what tools we have and duplicate parts, we may be able to fix things up good enough to carry on to the South American coast.”
“Let’s do it, then,” suggested the eager Elmer. “Those other fellows may get the biggest kind of a lead on us while we are delaying here.”
“They are probably having troubles of their own,” remarked Dave. “It would be impossible to do anything in this fog. Besides, it will take us at least a day to repair the Comet. We might just as well take a resting spell and a bite to eat.”
The food supply aboard the biplane was abundant, but no attempt was made to cook a meal. The airship boys indulged in a lunch composed of crackers, cheese and some lemonade, in the manufacture of which beverage Hiram had become something of an expert.
“I say,” he suddenly exclaimed, ten minutes later, as he bolted a mouthful of cracker – “look there!”
The speaker pointed, and all hands arose to their feet. In the far distance a growing yellow glow began to diffuse itself over the western sky. As suddenly and completely as the dense fog had come down upon them earlier in the day, a grand clearing up transpired.
“Why, it’s just like the rolling up of a curtain,” cried Elmer.
The airship boys stood viewing a swift panorama. Vague shapes and outlines began to stand out before their vision. The blue sky showed to their left, the ocean at quite some distance. The sinking sun sent up its radiant beams and they made out that they were on an island.
Its rounding end was disclosed as they swept the scene with interested glances. Little patches of forest and grassy plain showed.
“Why, a famous camping spot,” spoke the elated Hiram.
“How lucky we didn’t miss it,” added Elmer.
The young pilot could now inspect the Comet more clearly. He reported his conclusions after going over every part of the machine.
“I think time and patience will fix things up,” he announced.
“How much time?” inquired Hiram.
“I hope not a great lot of patience,” said Elmer, with a longing thought of the home mainland.
“There will be some brazing and hammering to do,” explained Dave. “We will have to build a fire. It will soon be dark and we must wait for daylight. Now then, fellows, don’t waste any nerve force worrying. What we lose to-day we’ll try to make up for when we get started again. We will find a good camping spot, have a pleasant evening, and a full night’s sleep. That will put us in fine trim for real business in the morning.”
“Begone dull care,” sang Hiram, in a jolly tone. “We’ll forget that we’re circling the globe for one ten hours, and be common, everyday boys out on a picnic lark, and report for duty in the morning.”
“There’s an inviting spot,” observed Dave, pointing to a copse on a little rise in the near distance.
Before dusk the airship boys had gotten the Comet safely placed, blankets out, a campfire built, and were settled down comfortably for the evening. There was nothing to indicate that the island was inhabited with wild beasts. It seemed to be a little emerald patch set down in the ocean, a sort of lost Crusoe reef, too small to have a name or a place on the marine charts.
One by one the boys drifted into slumberland. It must have been nearly midnight when Hiram and Elmer awakened to find Dave shaking them vigorously.
“Get up, fellows,” directed the young airman. “Something’s going on that we have got to investigate.”
CHAPTER XXIII
THE BLAZING BEACON
“What’s the trouble now, Dave?” speedily inquired Hiram, getting to his feet and Elmer after him.
“No trouble at all, I fancy,” was the reply; “quite the contrary, in fact. Look there.”
The young pilot of the Comet pointed across country towards the beach. Where a hill ran up to a sharp promontory jutting out over the ocean, a bright light showed.
“Why,” cried Hiram, “it’s a blazing heap of some kind. Looks as if it was up off the ground.”
“Yes, and it doesn’t burn like wood or oil. Notice the smoke and the way the flames leap up in the air? What do you suppose it is, Dave?” inquired Elmer.
“I can’t imagine, unless it is some beacon,” replied the young aviator.
“We can soon find out,” declared Elmer. “Wait a minute.”
The speaker ran to the biplane. He soon returned, his telescope in hand. This he leveled at the distant glow.
“You’re right, Dave,” he announced excitedly. “It’s a beacon, sure, and it’s pitch, sure. See for yourself.”
“Yes,” assented the young aviator, levelling the glass. “There is no doubt that it is a signal of some kind. I can make out the skeleton legs of some kind of a brazier.”
Hiram came in for a show at the spyglass. His decision enforced that of his friends.
“What will we do – investigate?” he asked of their leader.
“We must do that,” replied Dave. “It can’t be very far away.”
“What will we do with the machine?” questioned Hiram, who did not relish being left behind.
“We can roll it to the beach and keep it with us,” explained Dave. “Come on.”
“Maybe this is an inhabited island after all,” suggested Elmer. “I’d like to know. We don’t want to run into cannibals and have them roast us.”
The airship boys got ready to leave their temporary camp. They gained the beach, where progress was level and clear for the Comet. The blazing beacon was an excellent guide, and they neared it rapidly. When they came to the foot of the hill, they discovered a deep embrasure in its surface.
“Run the machine in there,” directed our hero. “Nobody is likely to disturb it before we return.”
It was with a good deal of curiosity and excitement that the boys ascended the hill. That gained, Dave took a broad survey of its top. No habitation or person was in view. At the edge of the highest point, commanding an open view of the ocean, was a large brazier, such as is used in light blacksmithing work. Its broad flanging top held a barrel, evidently containing pitch or some readily inflammable material. The fire sent up dense clouds of thick, black smoke. At the same time, however, the bright flames shone far out over the waters with a brilliant glow.
“Queer,” observed Hiram, staring at the brazier with no clue as to the hand that had lighted it.
“Yes, some one started that fire, and quite recently,” declared Dave.
“I wonder why? And who it could be?” chimed in Elmer.
“We had better set about finding out,” suggested Hiram.
The young airman took the lead in a search for the mysterious owner of the brazier. Finally, as they approached a slight dip in the surface of the ground, he swung his arm back to command a halt.
Where some trees showed, the reflection from the fire outlined a ragged tent made out of a sail. Near it were some boxes and barrels. There was a small table and a stool, a little oil stove, and some cooking utensils.
A hammock swung between two trees. Lying in this, apparently asleep, the curious explorers made out a human form. The young airman waved his comrades back and cautiously approached the unexpected layout before him.
A near glance showed our hero that the occupant of the hammock was a white man garbed in nautical costume. There seemed to be no other person in the vicinity. Dave reached out and gave the hammock a rough swing.
Its occupant must have been a light sleeper. With wonderful suddenness and a sharp yell he bounded from his bed. He was a thin, short man, not weighing more than ninety pounds – so undersized, in fact, as he stood gaping at Dave in open-mouthed wonder, that the latter felt inclined to laugh at the grotesque figure he made.
“Why – where – when!” gasped out the man, and, almost overcome, he could utter no further coherent words.
“Do I happen to come here – and my friends? That beacon directed us; who are you?” asked our hero.
“Shipwrecked mariner,” was the reply, in a mournful tone.
“You are a castaway, then?”
“That’s it – good ship Flying Scud, Nantucket. Been here two months. What’s your craft?”
“The airship Comet,” replied our hero.
“W-what?” and the man looked astounded and then grinned. He rubbed his eyes to convince himself that he was not dreaming. Then he gazed at Dave in a hurt way, as if he felt that our hero was making fun of him.
“That’s true,” the young airman hastened to say. “Myself and my friends arrived here by accident only a few hours since. The power on our machine gave out, and we landed in the fog, not knowing where and we don’t know now.”
By this time Hiram and Elmer had advanced to the spot. The man scanned them closely. He rubbed his head in a worried, uncertain sort of a way, as if figuring out something that puzzled him. Then he said, after a long pause:
“I was in hopes my beacon had called a ship. Seeing as it isn’t, I suppose there is no chance of my getting away from here?”
“Why not?” challenged Dave, encouragingly. “Did you ever ride in an airship, my friend?”
“No, never saw one. I’ve read about them and have seen pictures of them. To a regular tar, used to solid planks for nigh onto twenty years, those flimsy things don’t appeal, somehow.”
“That’s because you don’t know what real sailing is,” declared Hiram.
“Where is this new-fangled contrivance of yours?” inquired the man, looking into the sky and then all around the hill.
“Come with us and we’ll show it to you,” promised Dave.
“All right. Then I’ll show you my ship.”
“Oh, you have one?” inquired Elmer in surprise.
“What is left of the good old Flying Scud, yes,” answered the castaway, mournfully. “You see, friends, she must have struck a reef and sprung a leak. Anyhow, that dark, stormy night when I found myself drifting on her alone, I had to figure out that the captain had given her up as doomed. They had abandoned her in the long boat while I was asleep in the forecastle. Anyhow, when I came on deck, I found the ship deserted. Maybe the crew thought I had been swept overboard. Perhaps they couldn’t find me – you see, I’m so small,” concluded the speaker, plaintively.
“Say, mister, how did you get out of it?” asked the interested Hiram.
“The Flying Scud was rolling like a dancing sailor. I thought it was the last of Jabez Hull, yours truly. As she sided over, I strapped a life belt on me and dropped into the sea. Well, to make a long story short, I landed on this island. The next morning I found the old ship a wreck but her bow out of water, down on the beach yonder. She’s been there since. Can’t be budged, can’t be used, but I’ve been breaking her up to build some kind of a craft to get away in. Then, too, I’ve got food and furniture for my camp here. I ain’t much of a ship carpenter and got sort of discouraged, and for a week I’ve got busy and burned up a barrel of tar as a beacon.”
The boys pulled the Comet into view when they reached the spot where they had stowed it. The flare from the beacon enabled a full view of the biplane. It seemed as though Jabez Hull would never cease staring at it. He forgot all about his own forlorn situation in asking half a hundred wondering questions as to the machine and what it could do.
When he led the airship boys down the beach and showed them the wreck, it was their turn to become interested. What pleased the young aviators most of all was the discovery of a small portable forge. This the castaway had removed from the ship to assist in building his boat of escape. This, scarcely begun, was lying on the sand.
“Fellows,” said Dave, to his assistants, “this is a great stroke of luck for us. We can repair the machine in a good way, with a forge and tools to help us.”
“Yes, and there’s a whole tank of gasoline aboard the Flying Scud,” volunteered Hull.
The boys went back with the castaway to his camp. No one thought of sleeping amid the excitement of the occasion.
“We must get up early in the morning,” said Dave. “We must lose no time in starting on our way.”
“See here,” spoke up the castaway; “I suppose there’s no chance of my thinking of having a show to get away from here with you?”
“We shall certainly try to find a place for you,” replied Dave, promptly.
“You will?” cried Hull, joyously. “Oh, but that’s grand! See here, friend, you know what I’ll do if you fellows get me safely to the American coast?”
“What, now?” questioned Hiram, who liked to hear the odd old mariner talk.
“I’ll give you twenty thousand dollars.”
Our hero said nothing, but Elmer stared hard at the speaker and Hiram nudged him and winked.
“Provided,” continued Jabez Hull – “provided you take my treasure also along in your airship.”
“Your treasure, Mr. Hull?” repeated Dave. “What does it consist of?”
“A keg – yes, friend, probably the most valuable keg in the world. It weighs over fifty pounds, and it’s precious as diamonds. Land me anywhere near to a big city till I realize, and I’ll hand you over twenty thousand dollars in good, solid, hard cash.”
