Battling the Clouds; or, For a Comrade's Honor

by Frank Cobb

  CHAPTER XIII

  As the plane, responding perfectly to Bill's touch, soared upward, itseemed as though they were rising on gossamer wings out of a well ofdarkness and mists. They actually rose to greet the sun whose first rayswere gilding the tops of the hills. They went up in the very face of thegreat orb whose light, first striking the upper wings, turned all thedelicate wires and cords to gold. How they shone in the clear earlysunlight! As the pace increased, Bill felt rather than heard thedelicate humming of the wires. Over the roar of the engine he did notknow whether he could distinguish a delicate sound or whether it wasonly a trick of his imagination, but he was so exalted and so thrilledby the wonderful experience through which he was passing that he seemedto hear all sorts of celestial sounds.

  Fear fell from him. A new power was born in heart and brain. He felt asuplifted in soul as he was in body. Somehow he longed more than ever tobe a good boy; to harbor good thoughts; to do good deeds. When he triedto think of Frank and his ugly black actions, he found that he regardedthem through a haze as though they were a long ways away and of littleconsequence. All was going to be well. It was as though the darknessfrom which they had risen was a symbol. They were going up, up into thelight! Bill knew as well as though some higher power had whispered it tohim that there would be a good ending: he did not doubt his ability todo an almost unheard-of thing. His hand was as steady as though he hadflown all his life. He was "exalted in spirit," because his goal was aworthy one. Without a question for their own safety, the boys hadstarted on an enterprise filled with dangers, in order to save Lee fromfalse imprisonment and possibly worse. Ernest knew the Indian naturebetter even than Bill. He knew how impossible it is for them to bearunmerited disgrace and how often they end that disgrace with a bullet orthe swift thrust of a knife. He hoped that the white blood thatdominated Bill's good friend was strong enough to overcome this trend,but nevertheless he felt that there was not a moment to be lost. Sothere he sat, only an observer in his well-beloved aeroplane, the brokenarm throbbing with a blinding pain, while Bill--young Bill who had neverbeen nearer to flying than the warping of a wing and the sailing on onewheel over the field--sat in the pilot's seat, grave and intent, andguided their swift flight.

  But ah, who could tell the thoughts that all unbidden coursed throughthe mind of the culprit lying bound and muffled in the rear seat? Sointently were the eyes of his spirit bent inward on the dark andwhirling horrors they found there that the eyes of his body were blindto the wonders of the young day. He lay where they had placed him,staring blindly through his goggles straight up into the great domeabove him.

  The storm seemed to have washed the very air. It was clear as crystal. Afew clouds, thin as gossamer, hung here and there, growing less as asteady breeze sprang up in the wake of the sun and gently dismissed themfrom the great blue bowl in which they lingered.

  When they passed through these fairy clouds, they found them a softgolden mist shot through with rainbow colors. Then emerging, they passedonce more into blue space, a space greater than Bill had ever imagined.

  How tiny, how frail they were: three boys darting in a man-made machinehigh above their own realm! What daring! What risks!

  Daring, risks? Bill was unable to grasp the meaning of those earth-bornwords. He felt neither small nor frail. He, Bill Sherman, a boy, wasamong the conquerors!

  At a signal from Ernest he increased the speed and soared upward. It issafer in the higher altitudes, although there is usually a great dealmore wind blowing there. In case of any engine trouble, you have moretime and a longer distance in which to bring the machine to the glidingangle. Also if you are flying over a city when trouble threatens, youhave a chance to find a good landing place.

  All of these things Bill had had lectured to him endlessly at Sill, andfrom both Ernest and Tom at school. But actual experience he had nothad. That fact, however, he put resolutely behind him. Just one breathof fear struck him. He had witnessed a tail dive once at Sill, and overand over his mind kept repeating, "Keep the tail a little higher thanthe head and you won't spin." Ernest smiled to himself as he saw fromBill's manoeuvers as the flight went on that he had stored away allthe counsel he had listened to. Many a trained aviator never learned todrive his engine and balance his plane with the cool cleverness andjudgment of this young and untried aeronaut. Ernest commenced to relaxand enjoy himself. If they had no engine accident, there was no reasonto suppose that Bill would wreck the plane.

  "Up!" cried Ernest, pointing with his well hand.

  Bill responded and the plane again soared aloft.

  Here the wind screamed a gale. The plane shot forward, the wireswhistling, the engine drumming, the whole light fabric in which theyrode quivering. Bill's hand on the wheel grew tense; his facultiesseemed on a wire edge. Ernest's guiding hand pointed to the right. Billwas surprised. He had kept good track of his direction by the aid of theair compass and felt sure he was going in the right direction.Nevertheless he turned and, banking his wings and lifting the ailerons,moved smoothly in the direction suggested. Half an hour later Ernestagain motioned, this time for a turn to the left.

  It was not until days after their arrival at Sill that Ernest thought totell Bill that the unexpected and seemingly unnecessary deviations fromthe straight course were merely to try him out. An hour or so later whenErnest saw that they were passing over a strip of country where goodlanding places seemed plentiful, he indicated a dip and Bill executed itperfectly. He felt proud of himself now, and said, "Tail up, tail up!"repeatedly, as he felt the plane drop earthward. Reaching a lower level,Ernest nodded and they sailed on a straight-away flight, their eyesturned ever to the far-away goal in the west.

  Bill was unconscious of the passing time. They had had a heavy andsustaining breakfast, and luncheon was forgotten. There was no time tostop if they had been hungry. But Ernest was thinking of many things.

  He carefully scanned the country they were passing over for a landingplace. Bill's face was well covered with the flaps of his helmet and thewings of his goggles, but Ernest fancied that the young aviator waspale. He felt that they must land for awhile. Even now they were manyhours ahead of the time they would have made on a railroad train. Heindicated an upward course, and Bill rose as they raced over a flat andopen part of the country. Far ahead there lay what seemed to be an openplain dotted at long intervals with small villages. A pleasant farmingdistrict evidently, far from any large city. Ernest was sure that hecould get gasoline in any hamlet, and there seemed to be plenty oflanding places. The only question remaining was Bill's ability to getdown without a smash. Ernest smiled. He was fatalist enough to bewilling to risk what _had_ to be risked.

  The sun was well in the west. They seemed to be flying straight into theblazing disk when Ernest, pointing to a wide plain far ahead, touchedBill and told him with a gesture to go down and land.

  Bill gave a short nod and prepared to obey. There flashed into his heada saying of Tom's, "Anybuddy can fly, but it's the landing that hurts."

  Bill felt everything--their safety, his own self-respect and Ernest'sconfidence in him--rested on this last and different test. He could notconceive of a reason for landing, but Ernest said land, so land it was!

  At any rate, his engine was going perfectly, so he was not required toattempt a difficult volplane with a dead engine. It was something to bespared that. Bill picked the likeliest spot in the distant landscape,all immense field with only a few groups of black dots to break its latefall greenness. Bill could not tell the nature of the dots at theheight he was flying. They might be bushes or cows. Bill hoped for thelatter, and as he came down he saw that he was right. Cows would belikely to scatter, thought Bill, but bushes would be difficult to steeraround.

  About a hundred feet from the ground he tilted his elevating plane, andthe machine, nosing up, glided off at a tangent. Once more making aturn, he came down to the ground, striking it gently, and bobbing alongthe grassy surface of the field.

  The cows scattered all right. When the mac
hine came to a standstill,swaying back and forth like a giant dragonfly, all that remained of theherd was a glimpse of agitated and wildly waving tails galloping offinto the second growth which rimmed the pasture.

  Ernest, who had taken many long flights, removed his goggles and smiledat the young pilot as he climbed awkwardly over the side and dropped tothe ground. His head whirled, and his eyes felt strained out of hishead. With fingers that trembled he undid his helmet and pushed off hisgoggles.

  "Well, boy, I may say that I was never so proud of a friend in my life!You have done nobly!"

  "What did we land for?" asked Bill. "I don't see as we can afford thetime."

  "We must take time to get some gas and rest you up a little. Don't youworry, son! You are going to drive all night to-night unless--well, whydidn't I think of this before? We are 'way past the path of the stormlast night, and--"

  "Last night!" interrupted Bill. "Was it only last night? I feel asthough it was a week ago."

  "I was going to say," resumed Ernest, "that we can send a telegram fromsomewhere around here, and then we can spend the night at a farmhouse,and go on to-morrow. We can reach there to-morrow night, perhapsearlier."

  "I don't approve of that," said Bill. "If my mother thought I was 'up ina balloon, boys,' she would about die of fright."

  "She gave you permission," reminded Ernest.

  "Yes, but of course she never thought anything like this would happenand honestly I wish you wouldn't! I can drive all night all right. Thatis, if I can get a little rest," he added, as he sensed his achingmuscles and realized the tension he had been under.

  "I think about so," said Ernest. "I will look around for a farmhouse.Must be one near on account of all these cows. Oh, goodness! See what'scoming!"

  Across the field surged a small but excited procession. A lean boy onhorseback, without saddle or bridle and guiding the shambling colt herode by a halter strap, led the van. Behind him, as lean as he, andabout seven feet tall, a farmer, whiskered like a cartoon, kept paceeasily with the horse. Behind came a roly-poly old lady, her apronstrings fluttering in the breeze as she bowled along dragging a fatlittle girl by each hand. Three dogs barking loudly brought up the rear.

  Twenty-five feet from the plane the procession was thrown into confusionby the colt which suddenly discovered what seemed to him to be a gianthorsefly, its wings wagging lazily. He had dreamed of just such monsterswhile snoozing in the shade on hot summer days, but here, oh, here wasthe creature itself ready to fly up and alight on him!

  He did not wait for further investigation, but whirled and left forparts distant where the cows peered through the saplings at the awfulintruder in their peaceful pasture. The sod was soft and the youngrider, rolling head over heels, was not harmed as he came to a stopclose to the boys and sat up, rubbing his red head.

  "What's your hurry?" asked Ernest, smiling.

  "Nuthin'," said the boy. "Say, is that a airyplane?"

  "Sure thing!" replied Ernest. "Do you live near here?"

  "Yep!" said the boy. "Let's see you fly in it."

  Ernest laughed. "You certainly believe in speeding the parting guest,don't you, young chap? Is this your father coming?"

  "Yep! Say, how do you work her?"

  Ernest turned to greet the tall farmer. Everything was turning out ashe hoped. Not only would the farmer and his roly-poly wife, whopresently came up panting, give them supper and a place to rest, but hehad a Ford, and on account of the distance from town was always suppliedwith a large tank full of gas. Ernest gave a sigh of relief. The onlydanger was from their curiosity. When the thin boy went off to get thecolt, and was seen riding furiously away, Ernest knew that, like PaulRevere, he was off to give an alarm and rouse the countryside. He lookedat his watch. There should be a full moon later, but Bill was completelytired out and had not yet come into the condition known as second wind.It would take three or four hours to get ready for the rest of theflight.

  "What sort of a chap is that boy of yours?" asked Ernest.

  "Pig-headed!" said the old lady, speaking for the first time.

  "That is not a bad trait," said Ernest, smiling. "I mean can you trusthim?"

  "Yes, you _kin_," said his mother. "Webby will do just what he saysevery time and all the time."

  "The woman's right," said the farmer. "I kin trust Web soon as I kinmyself."

  "Sooner!" said his wife scornfully. "You are the forgittinest feller,and Webby don't _never_ forget. If you want he should go an errant,mister, he'll be back soon."

  "Not exactly an errand," said Ernest, and no more would he say until hesaw the boy come galloping back to the field. He dismounted a long wayoff, and came running.

  "Your mother and father tell me you can keep your word, and be trusted,"said Ernest. "I want you to stand guard over this machine. I don't wantyou or anyone else to _touch_ it. I want you to keep everyone at leastten feet away. If you will do this, I will either pay you or else takeyou up for a little flight."

  "Wait!" said the boy. He turned and went running back to his colt and,mounting, dashed out of sight. In five minutes he returned bearing along out-of-date rifle.

  "Go ahead and get something to eat," he said. "This ought to fix 'em!"

  With a stick he drew a deep scratch in the green grass around the plane.Then he looked with a smile across the field.

  "Let 'em come!" he said. "This ought to fix 'em!"

  Ernest looked. Mr. Paul Revere Webby had not ridden in vain. They werecoming. Coming in Fords, buggies and on horseback. Coming strong.