CHAPTER XXMALAY PIRATES
Typhoonin itself has a sinister sound, and when, coupled with that, was the knowledge of what such a storm was capable of doing, it is no wonder that there were anxious hearts aboard theAir Monarch.
“What’s the matter?” asked Ned of his chum, as he realized that Tom was not going to be able to do as he hoped and send the craft up into a calm area above the outburst.
“I don’t quite know,” was the answer. “It’s just as if we were being pulled or pushed down.”
“If we land in that sea—well——” Ned did not finish, but Tom knew what his chum meant. If it was bad in the air it was worse on the water.
A typhoon is a hurricane of the worst sort, this particular name for violent wind and sea disturbances being common to China and Japan where these storms rage from May to November, being at their worst in the summer months. Tom and his party had arrived just at the very height of the stormy season, and were now in the grip of a typhoon of the most dangerous character.
“Our only chance is to fight it!” cried Tom, while he aided Peltok in handling the wheel. “Once we are forced down, we’ll be swamped.”
The craft was built to navigate on water, it is true, but not amid big waves and swells kicked up by a hurricane. Yet it might chance that Tom would have to battle with the elements of water as well as those of the air.
For a time it seemed that the typhoon would conquer and force the machine down. At first Tom thought something had gone wrong with the machinery, so reluctant was his ship to respond to the controls. But when he looked at the wind gage near the front window and noted that its hand was hovering around the 150 mark on the dial, he understood what was taking place.
The wind was approaching a rate of two hundred miles an hour, and as theAir Monarchwas not making that speed she was being blown back, and her propellers were not even holding her stationary in the gale. Not only was she being forced back, but she was being forced downward.
“We’ve got to have more power!” cried Tom. “Turn on the super-gas!”
“There isn’t much left,” said Hartman. “You were to save that for the last lap!”
“There won’t be any last lap if we don’t get above this typhoon!” shouted Tom. “Turn it on!”
“On she goes!” echoed the mechanic.
With Hartman at the super-charger, while Tom and Peltok managed the wheel, Ned and Brinkley looked to the oiling systems. If they failed now, when it was necessary to run the motors at their top speed, it would be disastrous.
Though the wind howled about them and heavy rain now dashed against the thick plate glass of the windows, and though the typhoon was increasing in power, it was soon evident that the machine was doing better. With the increase in speed and power of the motors, because of Tom’s newly invented gas, theAir Monarchbegan to recover lost ground, and soon she began progressing straight into the teeth of the hurricane. To have turned and sailed before it would have meant that she would be turned over and over, her wings shorn off and that she would be dropped into the raging sea, a helpless wreck.
“We’ll make it! We’ll make it!” exulted Tom, as he saw the speed indicator hand slowly move along until it was passing the two hundred mark. He knew his ship was capable of over two hundred and fifty miles an hour, or more than four miles a minute, though how long she could keep up this speed was a problem. And the young inventor knew he could not hope to reach that goal with a typhoon blowing against him at more than half that speed.
So Tom was satisfied when he saw his craft making a little more than the two hundred mile rate, and he had hopes of coming out of the contest not only with a whole skin himself but with his plane intact.
Howling and yelling, the wind threatened to tear the machine apart. But theAir Monarchwas stanchly made, and she forged ahead. Now and then some more violent outburst than usual caused the craft to dip down toward the raging sea, but Tom and Peltok forced her up again, and she rode above the waves, though sometimes perilously close to their crests.
There is one thing about typhoons that is in their favor, if such a thing can be said. This is that they do not last long. From the very nature of these storms, they cannot last long.
So, after about half an hour, there was a diminishing of the force of the hurricane, as Tom could note on the gage, and he was able to send his craft up higher, soon being in a region of comparative calm.
“Oh, boy! That was some blow!” Tom confided to Ned, when he could let Peltok manage the wheel alone and the young inventor went to get some rest in the main cabin with his chum.
“I’ll say it was!” Ned echoed. “Do they have many of these out here?”
“More or less. We’re well out of that one.”
The typhoon was passing almost as quickly as it had arisen, and when it was possible to slow down the motors, to save as much as possible of the now precious super-gas, Tom gave orders to that effect.
They were now over a portion of the ocean that had not, as yet, responded to the whipping and lashing of the terrific wind, and Peltok, who had given Hartman charge of the wheel, came in to say:
“I think we had better drop down to the water and give the airship an overhauling. No telling what might have been strained by that gale.”
“I agree with you,” Tom said. “We’ll make a landing, or rather,” he added, with a smile, “a watering. There is a large island near here, I think,” he went on, consulting the map, “and we can be sheltered in the harbor if we have to make any repairs.”
The typhoon had passed. The rain was over. The setting sun came out clear and bright from behind the black clouds as theAir Monarchgently settled down in the sea near a large island, with smaller islands clustered about it.
“Pleasant place, this,” remarked Ned.
“It looks so,” agreed Tom. “I hope we find nothing wrong and can soon be on our way again. We have lost a lot of time.”
“And we’re likely to lose something else, too!” suddenly exclaimed Hartman, as the craft came to a stop at the entrance to a natural harbor on one side of the large island.
“What’s the matter?” asked Tom, who was shutting off the motors.
“Look!” exclaimed the mechanic, and as he pointed ahead Tom and his friends saw, swarming toward them, a number of long, low boats, filled with savage warriors who set up a hideous howling.
“Malay pirates!” cried Tom, recognizing the natives. “We’ll have a hornet’s nest about our ears in a minute! Malay pirates!”
On came the savages chanting a war song to keep time with the flashing paddles as they urged their boats toward the floating aeroplane.
CHAPTER XXIAMONG THE HEAD-HUNTERS
“Whatshall we do, Tom?” exclaimed Ned, as he stood beside his chum, regarding the pirate flotilla. “Going to fight? Better turn on the ammonia tubes! Let’s get out the machine gun!” One of these weapons had been brought along. “We can stand them off!” and Ned started back to the rear of the cabin where the weapons were kept.
“Wait a minute!” ordered Tom Swift. “I don’t believe we’d better shoot, Ned!”
“But, man alive, why not? They’ll kill us if we don’t. Look at their savage faces!”
“They’re regular fiends!” said Peltok. “They’ll not only capture us, but they’ll torture us before they eventually kill us. This tribe is one of the worst of the Malay pirate bands!”
“I haven’t the least doubt of it,” assented Tom. “But at best we can kill only a few of them before the rest will swarm over us.”
“There’s something in that,” agreed Hartman. “But still we shall have to do something. They’ll capture the ship if we don’t! Get down off that!” he yelled as one of the boats was suddenly paddled forward and a Malay, horribly decked out in war paint and feathers, leaped up on one of the plane’s wings. Impulsively Hartman jumped outside and pushed the pirate off the airship into the water, where he fell with a splash.
This did not disconcert him, however, for the Malays were like fishes in the ocean, and he swam back to his canoe while his companions laughed.
At this Tom Swift’s face brightened and he exclaimed:
“We have a chance. Any tribe, no matter how savage, that can see the funny side of life is open to reason.”
“Do you mean you’re going to reason with these fellows?” asked Ned. “What’s the idea? We can’t hang around here making those fellows laugh and getting them into good humor so they’ll let us go. If you’re going to win this race, Tom——”
“I’m going to do my best to win it,” was the answer. “But harsh measures may be the very worst sort we could adopt. I have an idea we can escape from these pirates by a little strategy.”
“What kind?” Ned wanted to know.
“I’ve got to work out a plan,” Tom answered. “Meanwhile, how will this do to impress them?”
Without waiting for his chum to answer and not consulting the others, Tom went to a chest in the corner of the cabin and took out a small black globe. From it dangled the end of a fuse, and to this Tom set a match.
“Going to bomb them?” asked Ned. “Good! I’d never thought of that! But I thought you advocated peaceful measures.”
“This will be peaceful enough,” Tom said with a smile, looking out on the ever increasing flotilla of Malay canoes. So closely were they now clustered around the airship that it would have been impossible for her to have gotten up speed enough to taxi across the water and to rise in the air. The engines had been shut down, and it seemed that theAir Monarchwas at the mercy of the pirate horde.
“A peaceful bomb!” cried Ned. “That’s one on me. But be careful where you throw it, Tom, or you may damage us more than you damage those imps. Though I’d like to see ’em all blown sky high!” he added vindictively.
“They won’t be blown far with this,” remarked Tom Swift, as, noting that the fuse was almost burned down, he hurled the black object through the open window straight into the midst of a number of canoes.
There was a yell of surprise from the pirates as they saw the object, with its faint trail of smoke, coming toward them. A moment later there was a little explosion, hardly louder than that of a fire-cracker, and a great cloud of smoke floated over the scene, hiding the pirates from view.
“I get you now!” yelled Ned. “A smoke bomb such as they use in the movies! We’ll escape while they are blinded by the smoke.”
“No, not exactly,” Tom said. “The smoke will hamper us as much as I hope it scares these pirates. I only want to impress them and lay pipes for another demonstration later. I brought some of these smoke bombs along to use for signaling, but they may serve another purpose.”
Indeed, this one seemed destined to act that way, for from the midst of the heavy cloud of white vapor came yells and cries of fear and astonishment. Meanwhile, those in the airship waited for Tom’s next move.
“This will give them the idea that we are a supernatural bunch, I hope,” said the young inventor. “They’ll hesitate about rushing us, and that’s what I want—to hold off that overwhelming rush.”
Tom Swift seemed likely to get his wish, for when, after a minute or two, the smoke screen was blown away, the water about theAir Monarchwas clear of pirate canoes. The paddlers had hastily drawn back from too close proximity to the “foreign bird-ship,” as, doubtless, they called the craft.
But if the danger of an immediate and overwhelming rush was over for a time, the menace of the Malay horde still remained. For though the canoes had withdrawn to a respectful distance they still hemmed the aircraft in, and it would have been impossible to get headway enough to rise without crashing into part of the flotilla. This might kill a number of the pirates. It was also likely to damage theAir Monarch.
“Here comes the chief. I think he wants a parley,” said Peltok, as the largest canoe of all, much bedecked with feathers and other ornaments, shot out from the midst of the boats and was paddled toward the aircraft. On a raised platform amidships sat a fat Malaysian surrounded by his attendants. One of them began shouting something to which Peltok listened attentively.
“He’s the chief, all right,” he translated to the others after an exchange of talk between himself and the Malaysian. “He says he will let us depart in peace if one of us will remain to be offered as a sacrifice.”
“A sacrifice!” cried Tom. “A sacrifice to what?”
“To one of their heathen gods,” Peltok announced. “It seems the tribe has had bad luck and they think their god should be propitiated. A white man as a sacrifice will do the trick, that Malay chap said. That smoke bomb scared them,” he went on. “They can see that we have great power. But still they are not enough impressed to let us go free, though they say they will withdraw their boats and let us go on our way if one of our party is handed over for sacrifice.”
“And if we refuse?” asked Tom.
“Then they will rush on us and kill us all, no matter how many of them we may kill,” translated Peltok. “Thus will their god be appeased and fortune will smile on them, the chief says.”
“They’re desperate enough to do just that,” said Tom. He seemed lost in thought for a moment, and then he added: “Tell them we will let them know in the morning. Hold them off until after dark,” he added. “By that time we’ll have had a chance to go over our motors and be ready for a rush.”
“But it will be dangerous to crash through those canoes,” objected Ned.
“Maybe there won’t be any canoes left when we get ready to leave,” replied Tom, with a smile. “Go ahead, Peltok, tell them we will decide by morning.”
Again there was an interchange of words in the Malay tongue, and when there was a pause Peltok turned and said:
“They agree. If by morning you will donate one of the party to sacrifice they will give us free passage over their sea. If not, they will kill us all!”
“There are two sides to every story,” quoted Tom. “Ours yet remains to be told. Come on now,” he urged his companions. “Let’s get busy on the motors. They may not need much tinkering with. But we’ll tune them up and be ready for the dash.”
While the mechanics were making some adjustments, which fortunately proved to be very few, Ned asked Tom:
“What’s the game?”
“Fireworks,” answered the young inventor. “I’ve got a few I brought along, Ned, not really knowing what use I might make of them. But now I see a chance.
“To-night,” went on Tom, “when we are ready to start, I’ll shoot some rockets and Roman candles over the heads of the Malays. They’ll probably be surrounding us in their canoes. But the fireworks will scatter them and we’ll have a clear lane to shoot through.”
“Good!” cried Ned. “I wondered what you were going to do. This will turn the trick, I think.”
Though the triple ring of canoes had withdrawn a little distance from the airship, the big craft was still so well invested that unless the rings were broken escape would be out of the question.
Darkness fell rapidly. Tom and Ned got a meal ready, serving it to the mechanics who were working fast to complete the adjustments made necessary by the strain to the ship caused by the typhoon.
It was nearly midnight when Tom, having got out the fireworks, made ready for his surprise. With the help of his four friends, he laid a battery of rockets in wooden troughs so they would shoot in four directions from the airship. Then, directly ahead, in the path he intended to use to get up speed to mount into the air, he aimed some big Roman candles.
“All ready!” cried Tom when Ned and the others had announced that they were prepared. “Let ’em go!”
With terrifying roars, with sharp explosive pops and showers of sparks, the rockets and Roman candles whizzed forth. The darkness was set aglow with a terrifying glare, and from the watchers in the canoes came yells of dismay.
“Start the motors!” cried Tom when, by means of the red glow, he saw the canoes scurry away, leaving a free passage.
With a roar, the powerful machines got into action, the propellers whirled, and theAir Monarchshot across the water.
A few seconds of this ever increasing speed enabled the craft to rise into the air, and then she was on her way, winging her flight high over the heads of the terrified and disappointed savages.
“That will hold them for a while!” cried Ned, as he aimed the last burning balls of his Roman candle down on the dark mass of fleeing natives.
All through the night the machine roared on, reducing each hour the distance that separated her from the final goal. There were still many thousands of miles to cover, however, and several days would be needed to do this.
It was on the third day after having escaped from the Malay pirates and while proceeding along over the Pacific that the machine which Tom was guiding swerved sharply to the left. It almost turned turtle, but he righted it quickly and then shut down the power.
“What’s the matter?” shouted Ned.
“We’re wrecked, I’m afraid,” was the answer. “One of our propellers is broken. We’ve got to descend! I’ll head for that island!”
“No! Not there! Not there!” cried Peltok, who had been studying the charts just before the accident. “Don’t go down there.”
“There’s no help for it,” said Tom. “But what’s the objection?”
“That island is inhabited by head-hunters!” was the answer. “They are even worse than the Malay pirates!”
“It can’t be avoided!” said Tom Swift. “We’re disabled. We’ll have to take our chance!” and a few minutes later he guided his craft down into a little natural harbor of the island, the shores of which swarmed with savage-looking men.
CHAPTER XXIITHE RAFT
Scarcelyhad the aircraft come to a stop, gliding over the water, than scores of canoes, smaller than those used by the pirates, but containing fully as many savages, put out from the sheltered shore of the little bay and began approaching the machine housing Tom Swift and his party. Their horrid cries rent the air and they brandished their spears, axes, clubs and bows and arrows.
“What are we going to do, Tom?” asked Ned. “Are you going to fight them or scare them?”
“You can’t scare these natives!” shouted Peltok. “They are utterly savage. They have no gods. They worship only human heads, and they are after ours.”
“Then we won’t waste any time parleying,” decided the young inventor. “Unlimber the machine gun!” he called to Hartman and Brinkley. “Ned, get out the rifles! If they want to fight we’ll give ’em one!”
“But what if we can’t beat ’em off?” asked Ned, as he ran to get some of the arms. “We’ll be stuck here sha'n’t we, with one propeller gone?”
“We’ll be stuck if we can’t ship a new one, but we have two spares,” said Tom. “We’ve got to fight these head-hunters off—that’s all there is to it!”
Realizing how desperate was their situation, the party, one and all, resolved to die fighting rather than fall into the hands of the evil savages.
The machine gun was set up on its tripod just outside the motor room, on a small platform which was hastily screened in by some boxes, chests and movable lockers. Hartman and Brinkley, who were to work this automatic weapon, would thus be protected from the spears and arrows of the head-hunters. Luckily the islanders did not seem to possess firearms.
Tom, Ned and Peltok would take their stand in the front cabin and fire on the savages from there. No sooner were these measures of defense taken than the head-hunters rushed to the attack, yelling, shouting, and brandishing their weapons.
There was quite a party of them coming up in canoes at the stern of the floating airship, and Tom, seeing this, yelled to the machine gunners:
“Let ’em have it!”
A moment later the automatic began its staccato roar and the bullets fairly riddled several canoes, sinking them, spilling their warriors and paddlers into the water, and killing numbers of them.
But while the rear attack was thus repulsed, there was a rush toward the front and sides. There the savages were met with a sharp fire from the rifles of Tom, Ned and Peltok, and great execution was done.
With yells of dismay at this hot reception, most of the canoes that were not disabled swung back, but one containing half a score of natives dashed on and bumped against the fuselage of the aircraft. Screaming and brandishing their weapons, the occupants tried to swarm up the slippery metal sides.
“Repel boarders!” yelled Tom, rushing out, followed by the others.
Despite a flight of arrows and spears, one of which latter wounded Peltok and Ned slightly, the three drove the invaders back, firing in their very faces, and actually kicking some of them off into the water. Then this canoe turned back, but not before several of the occupants had been killed.
“Good work!” cried Tom, turning to go back to the shelter of the cabin to avoid more arrows and spears which were now showering toward theAir Monarch. “A little more of this and we’ll have them on the run.”
As he spoke he uttered a cry of pain, for an arrow took him in the thigh, inflicting a painful wound.
“It may have been a poisoned arrow, too!” said Peltok. “Better put some disinfectant in the wound.” This Tom did, in the shelter of the cabin.
After the first rush the head-hunters withdrew, their ardor somewhat cooled. But Tom and his companions knew the fight was not yet over. The canoes still hung about and more savages were coming to the coast from the interior of the island. Some of them bore freshly severed heads, and it was a foretaste of what might happen to Tom Swift and his party should they be captured.
Meanwhile, Hartman and Brinkley had used the machine gun to such good advantage that they had repulsed the savages at the rear with great loss, though both machinists had been slightly wounded by arrows.
All five of the airship occupants were now hurt, but none of the wounds amounted to much save in the case of Tom Swift, and he made light of his pierced thigh. It was, however, very painful.
“What are we going to do?” asked Ned, who was beginning to lose heart when he saw the increasing crowd of savages and realized that the airship was disabled.
“Do?” cried Tom. “Why, we’re going to carry on, of course! It will not take long to attach a new propeller, and we’ll have to fight off these imps while it’s being done. Hartman and Brinkley can do the work, while you and I, Ned, with Peltok, will stand guard.”
This program was carried out, though under great difficulties. The head-hunters, in spite of their heavy losses, returned to the attack soon after the two machinists began attaching the spare propeller. The old one had lost a blade, possibly through some defect in it, Tom decided.
Ned and Peltok worked the machine gun at the stern, thus protecting Hartman and Brinkley from an overwhelming rush, while Tom, with several magazine rifles ready to hand, peppered the natives who sought to come at the craft from the front.
In this way the fight and repair work went on for a couple of hours, until, at last, the execution among the head-hunters was so great that they were forced to withdraw. Ned received another slight scratch from an arrow, but there were no other casualties on board theAir Monarch, which was rapidly being put in shape for another flight.
It was not until late in the afternoon, however, and following a most strenuous hour, that the machinists announced that the propeller was in place.
“And it’s about time, too,” said Tom. “I think the head-hunters are going to make another grand rush.”
This was plainly evident from the additional canoes that were being filled with islanders who swarmed down to the shore. They seemed determined, no matter how severe their own losses, to get the heads of these strangers.
Peltok tried to listen to the shouted talk of the savages, but had to admit that they spoke a dialect unfamiliar to him. However, it was evident that the yells and shouts had to do with the intentions of the war party.
“Here they come!” yelled Ned, when word had been given to start the motors. “Wow, what a mob!”
Hundreds of the head-hunters were now paddling to the attack. But when they were within range they were met with a sharp fire from the rifles and machine guns. At the same time theAir Monarchbegan moving, and before the attackers could get close enough to interpose their canoes in her path, the machine had risen and was soon high over their heads and out of danger.
“Whew!” whistled Ned as they sailed on. “If we don’t get the prize for the international race, Tom, we ought to get one for an international globe-circling fight. We’ve had a lot of it since we started.”
“Yes, we have,” Tom admitted, wincing a bit as he moved his wounded leg. “And we may have more. We still have Kilborn to reckon with.”
“I wonder where he is,” mused Ned as the machine straightened out on her course.
“Hard to say,” was the answer. “But we aren’t making as good time as I’d like to make. He may pull in ahead of us.”
At the thought of this the speed of the craft was increased and as night came she was winging her way over the vast expanse of the Pacific Ocean toward the shores of the United States.
It was just at dawn the next morning when Ned, who had got up early to make Tom a cup of coffee, looked down toward the sea. What he saw caused him to cry out.
“What is it?” asked his chum.
“There’s a raft just below us.”
“A raft?”
“Yes, with a couple of people on it. Looks like a raft from a wrecked ship. I think they are castaways. Can’t we rescue them, Tom?”
The young inventor came limping out of his cabin to look down at the sea. Rising and falling on the heaving swells below theAir Monarchwas a big raft, on which were two men waving frantically to those sailing above their heads in the airship. Faintly their cries floated up, for theAir Monarchwas flying low.
“Help! Help!” the castaways shouted.
CHAPTER XXIIITHERE SHE BLOWS!
Tom Swiftfor a moment was torn between duty and ambition.
His machine was winging along at wonderful speed and he was beginning to make up for much time lost. To slow up, descend and rescue these two on the raft meant more delay—a delay that would be dangerous to his chances of winning the prize. He did not know how many or what other ships, whether of the air or the sea, containing his rivals, might be ahead of him or close behind.
But it was for only a moment that Tom hesitated. He gave one look down at the despairing, helpless men on the raft and cried to Ned:
“We’ll go down!”
Ned knew, as well as Tom, what this might mean.
As the young inventor sprang into the motor room to give the order to Hartman, who was on duty, he practically gave up all hope of winning the race. Yet he had no regrets.
There was another thought that came to Tom as he told the surprised Hartman what was about to be done and mentioned the raft with the shipwrecked ones on it. This was the problem of caring for the two castaways when they were taken aboard theAir Monarch.
“There’s hardly room for them,” reasoned Tom. “Their added weight will hold me back, even if I’m able to make up any of this lost time. And we haven’t any too much food. Didn’t have a chance to lay in any at the camps of the pirates and head-hunters,” he grimly reflected.
But he did not hesitate, and a little later two very thankful, but much wondering, men were being taken aboard the airship. They were thankful for their rescue but surprised at the manner of it.
“We thought some steamer might pick us up,” said one, “but we never counted on something coming out of the sky to do it.”
“Sam thought I was out of my head when I told him an airship was coming,” remarked the other.
Tom had sent his craft slowly over the water on her pontoons as close as he dared to go to the raft, and the men had leaped into the sea, swimming the intervening distance, since it would take but a slight bump from the jagged edges of the raft to puncture the frail body of theAir Monarch.
Once on board, and again riding through the air, Tom listened to the stories of the castaways. They were part of the crew of a small lumber schooner that had broken up in a terrible storm. For more than a week the men had been drifting about on the raft which had been made from some of the deck load of lumber. Five of their companions had been washed off, and one, in delirium, had leaped into the sea and was eaten by sharks. The two who were left had only a little food and water remaining when they were saved.
“I’m sorry that I can’t take you men all the way back to San Francisco with me,” Tom said, when the two had been made comfortable in temporary bunks and given some extra garments in place of their wet and storm-torn ones. “But I’m trying to win a race. How would it do if I landed you on one of the Hawaiian Islands? I’ve got to stop there for oil and gas.”
“That would suit us fine, Captain,” said Sam Stout, while his companion, Frank Madler, said:
“We can easily get another ship there.”
So it was arranged, and Tom, still with a faint hope in his heart that he might at least come in a good second if not the winner of the world race, turned on a little more power and headed for the east. There lay the United States, and once over that territory there remained only the last part of the flight—across the continent.
The motors of theAir Monarchwere not behaving as well as Tom liked, and he had an idea it was due to the poor quality of the last gasoline he had put into his tanks. He dared not use the last of his super-fuel, but he hoped in Hawaii to get some better than the last.
If worse came to worst, he thought he could finish the race in hisAirline Expresscraft, but he wanted to do it in theAir Monarch. It would be much more satisfactory, he told Ned, who agreed with him.
It was only half a day’s travel from where the shipwrecked ones had been picked up to the harbor of Honolulu, and it was about mid afternoon when Ned, who was on watch, gave the cry:
“Land ho! All out for Hawaii!”
The beautiful islands were looming ahead of them through the mist. Quarter of an hour later they made out Diamond Head and knew they were close to Honolulu, the chief city of the territory.
Tom was in the pilot house, prepared to make a landing, if such a term is permissible when one means to drop into the water. He had headed the craft for a spot somewhat outside a harbor, intending to taxi up into it to avoid the shipping when, suddenly, Sam, one of the shipwrecked sailors, who was looking from the pilot house window, pointed to a spot directly in front of them and cried:
“There she blows!”
“What?” asked Tom, though a second later he realized what was meant.
“A whale!” cried the sailor. “There she blows, and you’re going to bump right into her!”
Tom tried desperately to shift the wheel and, at the same time to elevate the airship to pass over the monster of the deep. But they were now so close that it seemed impossible. With the motors shut off the sound of the whale’s blowing could be heard and each moment the vast bulk became plainer. If the airship hit that mountain of flesh she would be instantly wrecked!
CHAPTER XXIVTHE LAST TRICK
“Startthe engine! Give me some speed!” Tom yelled desperately. “I’ve got to zoom!”
He meant, by this, a sudden and sharp lifting of the airship over the whale, as a birdman often zooms to avoid crashing into trees or some obstruction.
Luckily, Peltok was on duty in the engine compartment. He had shut off power but a short time before, and the cylinders were still hot. In a second the machinist switched on the spark, hoping to start the motors on compression as can sometimes be done. To his delight it happened this time.
With a roar the powerful engines started up, whirring the propellers and giving the craft enough momentum for Tom to lift her over the whale’s back.
But so little room was there to spare that afterward, observers in near-by boats declared that the spouting of the whale wet the lower portion of theMonarch.
Tom could well believe this, for when the big creature, alarmed by the near approach of the air craft, raised its flukes and slammed them down on the surface of the sea, preparatory to sounding, the water was washed in a big wave over the rudders of theAir Monarchtearing loose some of the stays and guy wires of the elevating surfaces.
It was a narrow escape, and Tom realized this as, a little farther on, he brought his craft safely to the calm surface of the bay while behind him the waves were ruffled by the sinking of the whale that was soon lost to sight.
“If this keeps us,” remarked Ned whimsically, as he sat on a locker, “I’ll be a nervous wreck after this race. It’s just one bit of excitement and narrow squeak after another.”
“We have had a little more than our share,” admitted Tom. “But I think the worst is over now.”
“You sure handled your ship like a veteran!” commended the two shipwrecked sailors.
Tom’s arrival at Honolulu was greeted with a great demonstration on the part of officials and the populace, some of whom had expected that one or more of the world racers might pass over their islands. So when word came that Tom had stopped to take on gasoline and oil, arrangements were made to fête him. But he had little time for any ceremonies although he did consent to be decked with a wreath of flowers—a native custom.
“I want to hop off again as soon as I can,” he told the welcoming delegation, though as politely as possible. “You understand how it is.”
“Oh, yes, we understand,” was the reply. “But one of your rivals is here, and he seems to be taking his time.”
“Who is it?” asked Tom, though he was almost prepared for the answer that came.
“Dan Kilborn in theRed Arrow.”
“Here ahead of us!” exclaimed Ned.
“That isn’t to be wondered at!” remarked Tom. “The thing for us to do is to leave ahead of him and keep him at a distance.”
They learned that theRed Arrowhad arrived two days before with a broken cam shaft and that the repairs were nearly completed. On hearing this Tom hastened as much as he could the taking on of gas, oil, and other necessities. But when it seemed that they might get under way again a few hours after landing in Honolulu, Peltok discovered another small burned-out bearing that must be replaced.
“It will not take long,” he said, “as we have spare parts for that. By night we can be moving again.”
“I hope so,” murmured Tom.
The two shipwrecked sailors were taken in charge by the captain of a vessel who promised them berths, and Tom and Ned sent home radiograms telling of their progress up to date.
In spite of Peltok’s assertion that it would not take long to replace the burned-out bearing, it did, and he had to amend his calculation so that it would be midnight before theAir Monarchcould take off again.
Tom and Ned occupied their time by visiting places of interest, and it was when they were coming out of a restaurant that they saw a crowd approaching them. Thinking it was only curious ones who wanted to look at the “world fliers,” the two young men paid little heed until they heard a voice they knew saying:
“There’s Tom Swift now! Arrest him! I’ll make the charge!”
Tom and Ned wheeled about to see Dan Kilborn facing them. The pilot of theRed Arrowwas in company with a police officer, and again he exclaimed:
“Arrest Tom Swift!”
“On what charge?” asked the officer.
“He tried to kill me!”
“Kill you!” shouted Tom. “Are you crazy?”
“No, I’m perfectly rational!” sneered Kilborn. “But I make that charge. A charge of attempting my life! Tom Swift dropped from his airship a Chinaman on my head, severely injuring me.”
And then it came to Tom and Ned what the rascal meant. He was referring to the time he had set the Chinese bandits on to wreck theAir Monarch. One of the bandits had been carried up by catching hold of a rope as Tom sent his craft aloft, but the frightened fellow had loosed his hold and dropped on Kilborn’s head.
“Arrest Tom Swift!” again demanded theRed Arrowpilot.
As he hastened forward, so did the police officer, accompanied by a number of others.
“I am sorry,” said the officer to Tom, “that I shall have to take you into custody. There must be a hearing, but probably, since no one was really killed, you will be admitted to bail.”
“You mean that I must submit to arrest and probably lose a day, if not more, arranging for bail on this untrue charge?” asked Tom indignantly.
“Such is the law,” was the answer.
“It’s a foolish law!” cried Ned. “It was Kilborn’s own fault that the Chinese bandit dropped on him. He sent them to attack us!”
“I did nothing of the sort!” declared Kilborn brazenly.
“I must take you into custody, young man,” said the officer. “I am sorry, but this gentleman,” and he pointed to Kilborn, “has sworn out a warrant against you, charging you with assault with intent to kill. I must do my duty.”
“All right,” assented Tom, with such seeming cheerfulness that Ned looked at him curiously. “If I have to go with you I suppose I must. But this is your last trick, Kilborn!” the young inventor suddenly cried. “I’m going to play trumps from now on! Follow me, Ned!”
With a sudden motion Tom tripped the officer who had reached out a hand to apprehend him. He pushed the man backward into the midst of his fellows, and then sent a fist full into Kilborn’s face, whirling him aside.
Then, like a football player, Tom turned and ran back into the restaurant, followed by Ned, who did not know what to make of it.
“They’ll trap us in here, Tom!” panted his chum.
“No, there’s a back way out that leads directly to the beach!” whispered Tom. “I noticed that when we were in there. Come on. We can beat Kilborn yet!”
On they rushed, through the midst of the astonished waiters and patrons in the dining room. Out through the kitchen they went and into a back alley. Tom had marked the way well, and in a few minutes, leaving a confused and yelling crowd of men behind them, the two reached the harbor, and, engaging a motor launch by the simple but effective method of shoving gold coin into the owner’s hand, were soon aboard theAir Monarch.
“How about it?” gasped Tom to the workmen. “Can we start?”
“At once, if there is need!” answered Peltok.
“There’s the greatest need in the world if I’m going to win the race!” cried Tom.
A minute later theAir Monarchrose.