The Tom Swift Megapack

by Victor Appleton

  “That’s the way to talk!” cried Abe. “Once we git on th’ ground we kin hold our own!”

  It was breakfast time before Tom had the motor repaired, and he decided to have a good meal before starting to speed up his craft. He felt better after some hot coffee, for he and the others were weary from their night of labor.

  “Now for the test!” he cried, as he went back to the engine-room. “Here’s where we give Andy the go-by, and I don’t think he can catch us!”

  There was an increasing hum to the powerful motor, the great propellers whirled around at twice their former number of revolutions, and the airship suddenly shot ahead.

  Those on the Anthony must have been watching for some such move as that, for, no sooner had Tom’s craft begun to creep up on his rival than the forward craft also shot ahead.

  But the airship was not built that could compete with Tom’s. Like a racer overhauling a cart-horse, the Red Cloud whizzed through the air. In a spirit of fun the young inventor sent his machine within a few feet of Andy’s. He had a double purpose in this, for he wanted to show the bully that he did not fear him, and he wanted to see if he could discover who was aboard.

  Tom did catch a glimpse of Andy and his father in the cabin of the Anthony, and he also saw a couple of men working frantically over the machinery.

  “They’re going to try to catch us!” called Tom to Ned.

  This was evident a moment later, for, after the Red Cloud had forged ahead, her rival made a clumsy attempt to follow. The Anthony did show a burst of speed, and, for a moment Tom was apprehensive lest he had underrated his rival’s prowess.

  Suddenly Ned, who was looking from a projecting side window of the pilothouse, back toward Andy’s ship, cried out in alarm.

  “What’s the matter?” shouted Tom.

  “The airship—Andy’s—two of the main wings have collapsed!”

  Tom looked. It was but too true. The strain under which the Anthony had been put when the machinists increased the speed, had been too much for the frame. Two wings broke, and now hung uselessly down, one on either side. The Anthony shot toward the snow-covered earth!

  “They’re falling!” cried Mr. Parker.

  “Yes,” added Tom, grimly, “the race is over as far as they are concerned.”

  “Bless my soul! Won’t they be killed?” cried Mr. Damon.

  “There’s not much danger,” replied the young inventor. “They can vol-plane back to earth. That’s what they’re doing,” he added a moment later, as he witnessed the maneuver of the crippled craft. “They’re in no danger, but I don’t believe they’ll get to the valley of gold this trip!”

  Tom was soon to learn how easily he could be mistaken.

  CHAPTER XVII

  HITTING THE ICE MOUNTAIN

  Onward sped the Red Cloud. For a moment after the accident to Andy’s ship, Tom had slowed up his craft, but he soon went on again, after he had satisfied himself that his enemies were in no danger.

  “Don’t you think—that is to say—I know they can’t expect anything from us,” spoke Mr. Damon, “but for humanity’s sake, hadn’t we better stop and help them, Tom?”

  “I hardly think so,” replied the young inventor. “In the first place they would hardly thank us for doing so, and, in the second, I don’t believe they need help. They are almost safely down now.”

  “I don’t just mean that,” went on the odd man. “But they may starve to death. This is a very desolate country over which we are sailing.”

  “They must have a supply of food in their ship,” declared Tom, “and they have brought their plight on themselves.”

  “They’re in no great danger,” put in Abe.

  “There are plenty of natives around here, an’ if the Fogers need food or aid they can git it by payin’ for it. Why, for the sake of th’ parts of their damaged airship, th’ Eskimos would take th’ whole party back t’ Sitka and feed ’em well on th’ trip. Oh, they’re all right.”

  “Very well, if you say so,” assented Mr. Damon. He looked back to watch the Anthony slowly settling to earth. It came gently down, proving that Tom knew whereof he spoke, when he had said they could vol-plane down. Before the Red Cloud was out of sight Tom and his companions saw Andy and his father leave their wrecked craft and venture out on the snow-covered ground. The Fogers gazed enviously after the airship of our hero as they saw him still forging toward the goal.

  “I guess Andy’s stolen map won’t be of much use to him,” mused Tom. “Now we can put on all the speed we like,” and with that he shifted the gears and levers until the airship was making exceedingly good time toward the valley of gold.

  The remainder of that day saw our adventurers pursuing their way eagerly. At times they were flying high, and again, when Abe suggested that they go down to observe the character of the country over which they were passing, they skimmed along, just above the big mountains, which seemed almost like icebergs, so covered were they with frost and snow.

  They were indeed in a wild and desolate country. Below them stretched a seemingly endless waste of snow and ice—great forests interspersed with treeless patches, while now and then they sailed over a frozen lake.

  Once in a while they had glimpses of bands of Indians, dressed in furs, hunting. At such times the natives would look up, on hearing the noise made by the motor of the airship, and catching a glimpse of what must have seemed to them like some supernatural object, they would fall down prostrate in amazement and fear.

  “Airships are pretty much of a novelty up here,” remarked Abe with a grim smile.

  The weather was now very cold, and the gold-seekers had to get out their heavy fur garments, of which they had brought along a goodly supply. True, it was warm in the cabin of the airship, but at times, they wanted to venture out on the deck to get fresh air, or to make some adjustments to the wing planes, and, on such occasions the keen, frosty air, as it was driven past them by the motion of the craft, made even the thickest garments seem none too warm. Then, too, it was colder at the elevation at which they flew than down on the ground.

  Another day found them in a still wilder and more desolate part of Alaska. There were scarcely any signs of habitation now, and the snow and ice seemed so thick that even a long summer of sunshine could hardly have melted it. The hours of daylight, too, were growing less and less the farther north they went.

  “Do you think you can pilot us right to the Snow Mountains, Abe?” asked Tom, on the third day after the accident to Andy’s airship. “Let’s get out the map, and have another look at it. We must be getting near the place now. We’ll look at the map.”

  The young inventor went to his stateroom where he kept the important document in a small desk, and the others heard him rummaging around. He muttered impatiently, and Ned heard his chum say: “I thought sure I put it in here.” Then ensued a further search, and presently Tom came out, his face wearing rather a puzzled and worried look, and he asked: “Say, Abe, I didn’t give that map back to you; did I?”

  “Nope,” answered the miner. “I ain’t seen it since just before th’ hail storm. We was lookin’ at it then.”

  “That’s when I remember it,” went on Tom, “and I thought I put it in my desk. I didn’t, by any possible chance give it to you; did I, Ned?”

  “Me? No, I haven’t seen it.”

  “That’s funny,” went on Tom. “I’ll look once more. Maybe it got under some papers.”

  They heard him rummaging again in his desk.

  “Bless my bank-book!” cried Mr. Damon. “I hope nothing has happened to that map. We can’t find the valley of gold without it.”

  Tom came back again.

  “I can’t find it.” he said, hopelessly.

  Then ensued a frantic search. Every possible place in the airship was looked into, but the precious map did not turn up.

  “Perhaps the Fogers took it,” suggested Mr. Parker, who had helped in the hunt, in a dreamy sort of fashion.

  “That’s not possibl
e,” said Tom. “They haven’t been near enough to us since I saw the map last. No, the last time I had it was just before the hail storm, and, in the excitement of repairing the ship, I have mislaid it.”

  “Maybe it’s back there in the big cave,” suggested Ned.

  “It’s possible,” admitted the young inventor. “Pshaw! It’s very careless of me!”

  “If you think it’s in the cave, we’d better go back there and have a hunt for it,” suggested Mr. Damon. “Otherwise we are on a wild-goose chase.”

  “Don’t go back!” exclaimed old Abe. “I think we can find th’ valley of gold without th’ map, now that we have come this far. I sort of remember th’ marks on that parchment, an’ we are in the right neighborhood now, for I kin see some of th’ landmarks my partner and I saw. I say, let’s keep on! We can cruise around a bit until we strike th’ right place. That won’t take us so long as it would to go back to the cave. Besides, if we go back, the Fogers may get ahead of us!”

  “With their broken airship?” asked Ned

  “Can’t they repair it?” demanded Abe.

  “Hardly—up in this wild country,” was Tom’s opinion. “But perhaps it WILL be just as well to keep on. I have a hazy remembrance of the distances and directions on the map, and, though it will take longer to hunt out the valley this way, I think we can do it. I can’t forgive myself for my carelessness! I should have kept a copy of the map, or given one of you folks one.”

  But they would not hear of him blaming himself, and said it might have happened to any one. It was decided that the map must be lost in the big cave, and if it was there it was not likely to be found by their enemies.

  “We’ll jest have t’ prospect about a bit,” declared Abe, “only we’ll do it in th’ air instead of on th’ ground.”

  It was dusk when the fruitless search for the map was over, and they sat in the cabin discussing matters. The lights had not yet been switched on, and the Red Cloud was skimming along under the influence of the automatic rudders and the propellers.

  “Well, suppose we have supper,” proposed Mr. Damon, who seemed to think eating a remedy for many ills, mental and bodily. “Bless my desert-spoon, but I’m hungry!”

  He started toward the galley, while Tom went forward to the pilothouse. Hardly had he reached it than there came a terrific crash, and the airship seemed tossed back by some giant hand. Every one was thrown off his feet, and the lights which had been turned on suddenly went out.

  “What’s the matter?” cried Ned.

  “Have we hit anything?” demanded Mr. Damon.

  “Hit anything! I should say we had!” yelled Tom. “We’ve knocked a piece off a big mountain of ice!”

  As he spoke the airship began slowly settling toward the earth, for her machinery had been stopped by the terrific impact.

  CHAPTER XVIII

  A FIGHT WITH MUSK OXEN

  “Can I help you, Tom? What’s to be done?” demanded Ned Newton, as he rushed to where his chum was yanking on various levers and gear wheels.

  “Wait a minute!” gasped the young inventor. “I want to throw on the storage battery, and that will give us some light. Then we can see what We are doing.” An instant later the whole ship was illuminated, and those aboard her felt calmer. Still the Red Cloud continued to sink.

  “Can’t we do something?” yelled Ned. “Start the propellers, Tom!”

  “No, I’ll use the gas. I can’t see where we’re heading for, as the searchlight is out of business. We may be in the midst of a lot of bergs. We were flying too low. Just start the gas generating machine.”

  Ned hurried to obey this order. He saw Tom’s object. With the big bag full of gas the airship would settle gently to earth as easily as though under the command of the propellers and wing planes.

  In a few minutes the hissing of the machine told that the vapor was being forced into the bag and a little later the downward motion of the ship was checked. She moved more and more slowly toward the earth, until, with a little jar, she settled down, and came to rest. But she was on such an uneven keel that the cabin was tilted at an unpleasant angle.

  “Bless my salt-cellar!” cried Mr. Damon. “We are almost standing on our heads!”

  “Better that than not standing at all,” replied Tom, grimly. “Now to see what the damage is.”

  He scrambled from the forward door of the cabin, no easy task considering how it was tilted, and the others followed him. It was too dark to note just how much damage had been inflicted, but Tom was relieved to see, as nearly as he could judge, that it was confined to the forward part of the front platform or deck of the ship. The wooden planking was split, but the extent of the break could not be ascertained until daylight. The searchlight connections had been broken by the collision, and it could not be used.

  “Now to take a look at the machinery,” suggested the young inventor, when he had walked around his craft. “That is what I am worried about more than about the outside.”

  But, to their joy, they found only a small break in the motor. That was what caused it to stop, and also put the dynamo out of commission.

  “We can easily fix that,” Tom declared.

  “Bless my coffee-spoon!” cried Mr. Damon, who seemed to be running to table accessories in his blessings. Perhaps it was because it was so near supper time. “Bless my coffee-spoon! But how did it happen?”

  “We were running too low,” declared Tom. “I had forgotten that we were likely to get among tall mountain peaks at any moment, and I set the elevation rudder too low. It was my fault. I should have been on the lookout. We must have struck the mountain of ice a glancing blow, or the result would have been worse than it is. We’ll come out of it all right, as it is.”

  “We can’t do anything tonight,” observed Ned.

  “Only eat,” put in Mr. Damon, “and we’ll have to take our coffee cups half full, for everything is so tilted that it’s like topsy-turvey land. It makes me fairly dizzy!”

  But he forgot this in the work of getting a meal, and, though it was prepared under considerable difficulties, at last it was ready.

  Bright and early the next morning Tom was up making another inspection of his ship. He found that even if the forward deck was not repaired they could go on, as soon as the motor was in shape, but, as they had some spare wood aboard, it was decided to temporarily repair the smashed platform.

  It was cold work, even wearing their thick garments; but, after laboring until their fingers were stiff from the frost, Ned hit on the idea of building a big fire of some evergreen trees near where the ship lay.

  “Say, that’s all right!” declared Tom, as the warmth of the blaze made itself felt. “We can work better, now!”

  The Red Cloud was tilted on some rough and uneven ground, in among some little hills. On either side arose big peaks, the one in particular that they had hit towering nearly fifteen thousand feet.

  Everything was covered with snow and ice, and, in fact, the ice was so thick on the top of the mountains that the crags resembled icebergs rather than stony peaks. The crash of the airship had brought down a great section of this solid rock-ice.

  “Do you think we are anywhere near the valley of gold?” asked Mr. Damon that afternoon, when the work was nearly finished.

  “It’s somewhere in this vicinity.” declared Abe. “Me an’ my partner passed through jest such a place as this on our way there. I wouldn’t wonder but what it wasn’t more than a few hundred miles away, now.”

  “Then we’ll soon be there,” said Tom. “I’ll start in the morning. I could go tonight, but there are a few adjustments I want to make to the motor, and, besides, I think it will be safer, now that we are among these peaks, to navigate in daylight, or at least with the searchlight going. I should have thought of that before.”

  “Then, if you’re not going to start away at once,” spoke Mr. Parker, “I think I will walk around a bit, and make some observations. I think we are now in the region where we may expect a movement o
f the ice. I want to test it, and see if it is traveling in a southerly direction. If it is not now, it will soon be doing that, and the coating of ice may reach even as far as New York.”

  “Pleasant prospect,” murmured Tom. Then he said aloud: “Well if you are going, Mr. Parker, we’ll be with you. I’ll be glad of the chance to stretch my legs, and what more remains to be done, can be finished in the morning.”

  Mr. Damon declared that he did not relish a tramp over the ice and snow, and would stay in the warm cabin, but Tom and Ned, with Abe and Mr. Parker started off. The scientist pointed out what he claimed were evidences of the impending movement of the ice, while Abe explained to the lads how the Alaskan Indians of that neighborhood hunted and fished, and how they made huts of blocks of ice.

  “We are nearing th’ Arctic circle,” the old miner said, “and we’ll soon be among th’ most savage of the Eskimo tribes.”

  “Is there any hunting around here?” asked Ned.

  “Yes, plenty of musk ox,” answered Abe.

  “I wish I’d brought my gun along and could see one of the big beasts now,” went on Ned. He looked anxiously around, but no game was in sight. After a little farther tramp over the icy expanse they all declared that they had seen enough of the dreary landscape, and voted to return to the ship.

  As they neared their craft Tom saw several large, shaggy black objects standing in a line on the path the adventurers had come over a little while before. The objects were between the gold-seekers and the Red Cloud.

  “What in the world are those?” asked the young inventor.

  “Look to me like black stones,” spoke Ned.

  “Stones?” cried Abe. “Look out, boys, those are musk oxen; and big ones, too! There’s a lot of ’em! Make for the ship! If they attack us we’re goners!”

  The boys and Mr. Parker needed no second warning. Turning so as to rush past the shaggy creatures, the four headed toward the ship.