“They’ll have to do the best they can! It’s every man for himself, now!” yelled Munson. There was a wild scramble from the cavern.
“Come on!” cried Tom. “We must escape! It’s our only chance!”
He leaped into the big cave, followed by the others. Already long tongues of electrical fire were shooting out from the walls and roof as Tom Swift and his companions, evading them as best they could, sought safety in flight.
CHAPTER XXV
THE MOUNTAIN SHATTERED—CONCLUSION
“Can’t we get some of the diamonds?” cried Mr. Damon, as he raced along behind Tom. “Now’s our chance. Those fellows have all gone!” The odd man made a grab for something as he ran.
“It’s as much as our lives are worth,” declared the young inventor. “We dare not stop! Come on!”
“I’d like to investigate some of the machinery,” spoke Mr. Jenks, “but I wouldn’t stop, even for that.”
“The storm is too dangerous,” called Bill Renshaw. “I can show you a shorter way out than the one those fellows have taken. Follow me.”
“No way can be too short,” said Mr. Parker, solemnly. “This mountain will go to pieces shortly, I think!”
Tom shuddered. He remembered how narrow had been their escape when Earthquake Island sank into the sea. And that some terrific upheaval was now imminent might be judged from the awful reports that sounded more plainly as the adventurers raced toward the opening of the cave. It was like the bombardment of some doomed city.
Mr. Jenks and Tom cast one longing look behind at the complicated and expensive machinery that had been installed in the cave by the diamond makers. They had abandoned it, and in it lay the secret of making precious gems. But there was no time to stop now, and investigate.
“This way,” urged Bill Renshaw. “We’ll soon be out.”
“But won’t it be dangerous to go outside?” asked Mr. Damon. “Shan’t we be struck by lightning? There is some protection in here.”
“None at all,” said Mr. Parker, quickly. “This mountain is a natural lightning rod. To stay here in this cave will be sure death when the storm gets directly over it. And that will be very soon. We must get on insulated ground. Is there any part of this mountain that does not contain iron ore?” the scientist asked of the former spirit.
“Yes; the way out by which we are going lands on a dirt hill.”
“That’s good; then we may be saved.”
On they ran. They had no lanterns, but the blue light of the electricity, as it leaped from point to point inside the cave, where there were outcroppings of iron ore, made the place bright enough to see.
“Here we are!” cried Bill Renshaw at length. “Here’s the way out!”
Making a sudden turn in the winding passage he showed the adventurers a small opening in the side of the crag. In an instant they had passed through, and found themselves in daylight once more. The sudden glare almost blinded them, for, though the sky was overcast by clouds, from which jagged tongues of lightning played, the outside was much lighter than the dark cave.
“I should say it was a storm!” cried Tom Swift. “See, it is striking every minute, and all around us!”
In fact, lightning bolts were falling on every side of the adventurers. Every time the balls of fire struck, they burst open great stones, or seared a livid scar on the face of some cliff. As for Tom and the others, they stood on a dry dirt hill, in which, fortunately, there was no iron ore. To this fact they undoubtedly owed their lives, though had there been rain, to moisten the ground and make the earth a good conductor of electricity, they probably would have been badly shocked. But the electrical outburst was not accompanied by rain.
Tom looked up. He saw a compact mass of cloud moving toward the summit of the mountain on the slope of which they stood. From this cloud there played shafts of reddish-green fire.
“Look!” called the young inventor to Mr. Parker. The instant the latter saw the cloud, he cried:
“We must get away from here by all means! That is the center of the storm. As soon as it gets over the mountain, where that lightning rod is, all the electrical fluid will be discharged in one bolt at the mountain, and it will be destroyed! We must run, but keep on the dirt places! Run for your lives!”
They needed no second warning. Turning, they fled down the steep side of the mountain, slipping and stumbling, but taking care not to step on any iron ore. Behind them flashed the lightning bolts.
Suddenly there was a most awful crash. It seemed as if the end of the world had come, and the ear drums of Tom and his companion almost burst with the fearful report. The concussion knocked them down, and they lay stunned for a moment.
Following the terrible report there was a low, rumbling sound. Hardly knowing whether he was dead or alive, Tom opened his eyes and looked about him. What he saw caused him to cry out in terror.
The whole mountain seemed bathed in fire. Great blue, red and green flashes played around it. Then the towering cliff seemed to melt and crumble up, and the great peak, the top of it containing the diamond makers’ cave, from which they had fled but a few minutes before, the entire summit was toppled over into the valley on the other side, and in the direction opposite to that where the adventurers stood.
Then came a profound silence, and the lightning ceased. The storm was over, and only the rattle of stones and boulders, as they came to rest in the valley below, reached the ears of our friends.
“Phantom Mountain has been destroyed, just as I said it would be,” spoke Mr. Parker, solemnly. Once more he had prophesied correctly.
For a few minutes the adventurers hardly knew what to say. They arose awkwardly from the ground where the shock had tossed them. Then Tom remarked, as calmly as possible:
“Well, it’s all over. I guess we may as well get back to our airship.”
“What became of Munson and the others?” asked Mr. Damon.
Mr. Jenks pointed to the trail, far below. The figures of some men, running madly, could be seen.
“There they go,” he said; “I fancy we have seen the last of them.” And they had, for some time at least.
There was little use lingering any longer on Phantom Mountain—indeed little of it was left on which to remain. Looking back toward the place where the cave had been, Tom and the others started forward again. The diamond-making machinery had all been destroyed. So, also, had the finished diamonds stored in the cavern and the large supply which had probably been made by the last terrific crash. No one would ever have them now. Tom and Mr. Jenks felt a sense of disappointment, but they were glad to have escaped with their lives. They sought their former camp, but the tent and all their food was buried under tons of earth and rocks.
Three days later, after rather severe hardships, they were near the place where they had left the Red Cloud. They had suffered cold and hunger, for they had no food supplies, and, had it not been that Bill Renshaw knew the haunts of some game, of which they managed to snare some, they would have fared badly, for they had left their guns in the cave.
“Well, there are the trees behind which I hope my airship is hidden,” announced Tom, as they came to the spot. “Good old Red Cloud! Maybe we won’t do some eating when we get aboard, eh?”
“Bless my appetite! but we certainly will!” cried Mr. Damon.
“There’s somebody walking around the place,” spoke Mr. Jenks.
“I hope it’s no one who has damaged the ship,” came from Tom, apprehensively. He broke into a run, and soon confronted an aged miner, who seemed to have established a rude sort of camp near the airship.
“Is anything the matter?” asked Tom, breathlessly. “Is my airship all right?”
“I guess she’s all right, stranger,” was the reply. “I don’t know much about these contraptions, but I haven’t touched her. I knowed she was an airship, for I’ve seen pictures of ’em, and I’ve been waiting until the owner came along.”
“Why?” asked Tom, wonderingly.
“Because
I’ve got a proposition to make to you,” went on the miner, who said his name was Abe Abercrombie. “I’ve been a miner for a good many years, and I’m just back from Alaska, prospecting around here. I haven’t had any luck, but I know of a gold mine in Alaska that will make us all rich. Only it needs an airship to get to it, and I’ve been figuring how to hire one. Then I comes along, and I sees this big one, and I makes up my mind to stay here until the owners come back. That’s what I’ve done. Now, if I prove that I’m telling the truth, will you go to Alaska—to the valley of gold with me?”
“I don’t know,” answered Tom, to whom the proposition was rather sudden. “We’ve just had some pretty startling adventures, and we’re almost starved. Wait until we get something to eat, and we’ll talk. Come aboard the Red Cloud,” and the lad led the way to his craft which was in as good condition as when he left it to go to the diamond cave. Later he listened to the miner’s story.
Tom Swift did go to the valley of gold in Alaska, and what happened to him and his companions there will be told of in the next volume of this series, to be called “Tom Swift in the Caves of Ice; or, the Wreck of the Airship.”
It did not take our friends long, after they had eaten a hearty meal, to generate some fresh gas, and start the Red Cloud oh her homeward way. Tom wanted to take Bill Renshaw with him, but the old man said he would rather remain among the mountains where he had been born. So, after paying him well for his services, they said good-by to him. Abercrombie, the miner, also remained behind, but promised to call and see Tom in a few months.
“Well, we didn’t make any money out of this trip,” observed Mr. Jenks, rather dubiously, as they were nearing Shopton, after an uneventful trip. “I guess I owe you considerable, Tom Swift. I promised to get you a lot of diamonds, but all I have are those I had from my first visit to the cave.”
“Oh, that’s all right,” spoke Tom, easily. “The experience was worth all the trip cost.”
“Speaking of diamonds, look here!” exclaimed Mr. Damon, suddenly, and he pulled out a double handful.
“Where did you get them?” cried the others in astonishment.
“I grabbed them up, as we ran from the cave,” said the eccentric man; “but, bless my gaiters! I forgot all about them until you spoke. We’ll share them.”
These diamonds, some of which were large, proved very valuable, though the total sum was far below what Mr. Jenks hoped to make when he started on the remarkable trip. Tom gave Mary Nestor a very fine stone, and it was set in a ring, instead of a pin, this time.
On their arrival in Shopton, where Mr. Swift, the housekeeper, Mr. Jackson and Eradicate Sampson were much alarmed for Tom’s safety, an attempt was made to manufacture diamonds, using a powerful electric current instead of lightning. But it was not a success, and so Mr. Jenks concluded to give up his search for the secret which was lost on Phantom Mountain.
And now we will take leave of Tom Swift, to meet him again soon in other adventures he is destined to have in the caves of ice and the valley of gold.
TOM SWIFT IN THE CAVES OF ICE
Or, THE WRECK OF THE AIRSHIP
CHAPTER I
ERADICATE IN AN AIRSHIP
“Well, Massa Tom, am yo’ gwine out in yo’ flyin’ machine ag’in today?”
“Yes, Rad, I think I will take a little flight. Perhaps I’ll go over to Waterford, and call on Mr. Damon. I haven’t seen very much of him, since we got back from our hunt after the diamond-makers.”
“Take a run clear ober t’ Waterfield; eh, Massa Tom?”
“Yes, Rad. Now, if you’ll help me, I’ll get out the Butterfly, and see what trim she’s in for a speedy flight.”
Tom Swift, the young inventor, aided by Eradicate Sampson, the colored helper of the Swift household, walked over toward a small shed.
A few minutes later the two had rolled into view, on its three bicycle wheels, a trim little monoplane—one of the speediest craft of the air that had ever skimmed along beneath the clouds. It was built to carry two, and had a very powerful motor.
“I guess it will work all right,” remarked the young inventor, for Torn Swift had not only built this monoplane himself, but was the originator of it, and the craft contained many new features.
“It sho’ do look all right, Massa Tom.”
“Look here, Rad,” spoke the lad, as a sudden idea came to him, “you’ve never ridden in an airship, have you?”
“No, Massa Tom, an’ I ain’t gwine to nuther!”
“Why not?”
“Why not? ’Case as how it ain’t healthy; that’s why!”
“But I go in them frequently, Eradicate. So does my father. You’ve seen us fly often enough, to know that it’s safe. Why, look at the number of times Mr. Damon and I have gone off on trips in this little Butterfly. Didn’t we always come back safely?”
“Yes, dat’s true, but dere might come a time when yo’ WOULDN’T come back, an’ den where’d Eradicate Sampson be? I axes yo’ dat—whar’d I be, Massa Tom?”
“Why, you wouldn’t be anywhere if you didn’t go, of course,” and Tom laughed. “But I’d like to take you for a little spin in this machine, Rad. I want you to get used to them. Sometime I may need you to help me. Come, now. Suppose you get up on this seat here, and I promise not to go too high until you get used to it. Come on, it will do you good, and think of what all your friends will say when they see you riding in an airship.”
“Dat’s right, Massa Tom. Dey suah will be monstrous envious ob Eradicate Sampson, dat’s what dey will.”
It was clear that the colored man was being pursuaded somewhat against his will. Though he had been engaged by Tom Swift and his father off and on for several years, Eradicate had never shown any desire to take a trip through the air in one of the several craft Tom owned for this purpose. Nor had he ever evinced a longing for a trip under the ocean in a submarine, and as for riding in Tom’s speedy electric car—Eradicate would as soon have sat down with thirteen at the table, or looked at the moon over the wrong shoulder.
But now, somehow, there was a peculiar temptation to take his young employer at his word. Eradicate had seen, many times, the youthful inventor and his friends make trips in the monoplane, as well as in the big biplane and dirigible balloon combined—the Red Cloud. Tom and the others had always come back safely, though often they met with accidents which only the skill and daring of the daring aeronaut had brought to a safe conclusion.
“Well, are you coming, Rad?” asked Tom, as he looked to see if the oil and gasoline tanks were filled, and gave a preliminary twirl to the propeller.
“Now does yo’ t’ink it am puffickly safe, Massa Tom?” and the colored man looked nervously at the machine.
“Of course, Rad. Otherwise I wouldn’t invite you. But I won’t take you far. I just want you to get used to it, and, once you have made a flight, you’ll want to make another.”
“I don’t nohow believe I will, Massa Tom, but as long as you have axed me, an’ as yo’ say some of dem proud, stuck-up darkies in Shopton will be tooken down a peg or two when de sees me, vhy, I will go wif yo’, Massa Tom.”
“I thought you would. Now take your place in the little seat next to where I’m going to sit. I’ll start the engine and jump in. Now sit perfectly still, and, whatever you do, don’t jump out. The ground’s pretty hard this morning. There was a frost last night.”
“I knows dere was, Massa Tom. Nope, I won’t jump. I&emdash;I&emdash;Oh, golly, Massa Tom! I guess I don’t want to go&emdash;let me out!”
Eradicate, his heart growing fainter as the time of starting drew nearer, made as if he would leave the monoplane, in which he had taken his seat.
“Sit still!” yelled Tom. At that instant he started the propeller. The motor roared like a salvo of guns, and streaks of fire could be seen shooting from one cylinder to the other, until there was a perfect blast of explosions.
The speed of the propeller increased as the motor warmed up. Tom ran to his seat and opened the gasolin
e throttle still more, advancing the spark slightly. The roar increased. The lad darted a look at Eradicate. The colored man’s face was like chalk, and he was gripping the upright braces at his side as though his salvation depended on them.
“Steady now” spoke Tom, yelling to be heard above the racket. “Here we go.”
The Butterfly was moving slowly across the level stretch of ground which Tom used for starting his airships. The propeller was now a blur of light. The explosions of the motor became a steady roar, the noise from one cylinder being merged into the blast from the others so rapidly that it was a continuous racket.
With a whizz the monoplane shot across the ground. Then, with a quick motion, Tom tilted the lifting planes, and, as gracefully as a bird, the little machine mounted upward on a slant until, coming to a level about two hundred feet above the earth, Tom sent it straight ahead over the roof of his house.
“How’s this, Rad?” he cried. “Isn’t it great?”
“It—it—er—bur-r-r-r! It’s—it’s mighty ticklish, Massa Tom&emdash;dat’s de word—it suah am mighty ticklish!”
Tom Swift laughed and increased the speed. The Butterfly darted forward like some hummingbird about to launch itself upon a flower, and, indeed, the revolutions of the propeller were not unlike the vibrations of the wings of that marvelous little creature.
“Now for some corkscrew twists!” cried the young inventor. “Here we go, Rad!”
With that he began a series of intricate evolutions, making figures of eight, spirals, curves, sudden dips and long swings. It was masterwork in handling a monoplane, but Eradicate Sampson, as he sat crouched in the seat, gripping the uprights until his hands ached, was in no condition to appreciate it. Gradually, however, as he saw that the craft remained up in the air, and showed no signs of falling, the fears of the colored man left him. He sat up straighter.
“Don’t you like it, Rad?” cried Tom.
This time the answer came with more decision.
“It suah am great, Massa Tom! I’m—I’m beginnin’ t’ like it. Whoop! I guess I do like it! Now if some of dem stuck-up coons could see me—”
The Tom Swift Megapack Page 89
