Tom Swift in the Caves of Ice, or, the Wreck of the Airship

by Victor Appleton

  CHAPTER XII

  PELTED BY HAILSTONES

  "Yes, that's the man all right," observed the lad. "But if he camehere to have another try for the map, he's too late. I hope we don'tland now until we are in the valley of gold." Tom passed thetelescope to Ned, who confirmed the identification.

  "Perhaps he came to see if we started, and then he'll report to AndyFoger or his father by telegraph," suggested Mr. Damon.

  "Perhaps," admitted Tom. "Anyhow, we're well rid of our enemies--atleast for a time. They can't follow us up in the air." He turnedanother lever and the RED CLOUD shot forward at increased speed.

  "Maybe Andy will race us," suggested Ned.

  "I'm not afraid of anything his airship can do," declared Tom. "Idon't believe it will even get up off the ground, though he did makea short flight before he packed up to follow us. It's a wonder hewouldn't think of something himself, instead of trying to patternafter some one else. He tried to beat me in building a speedingautomobile, and now he wants to get ahead of me in an airship. Well,let him try. I'll beat him out, just as I've done before."

  They were now over the outskirts of Seattle, flying along about athousand feet high, and they could dimly make out curious crowdsgazing up at them. The throng that had been around the airship shedhad disappeared from view behind a little hill, and, of course, theman with the black mustache was no longer visible, but Tom felt asif his sinister eyes were still gazing upward, seeking to discernthe occupants of the airship.

  "We're well on our way now," observed Ned, after a while, duringwhich interval he and Tom had inspected the machinery, and found itworking satisfactorily.

  "Yes, and the RED CLOUD is doing better than she ever did before,"said Tom. "I think it did her good to take her apart and put hertogether again. It sort of freshened her up. This machine is myspecial pride. I hope nothing happens to her on this journey to thecaves of ice."

  "If my theory is borne out, we will have to be careful not to getcaught in the crush of ice, as it makes its way toward the south,"spoke Mr. Parker with an air as if he almost wished such a thing tohappen, that he might be vindicated.

  "Oh, we'll take good care that the RED CLOUD isn't nipped betweentwo bergs," Tom declared.

  But he little knew of the dire fate that was to overtake the REDCLOUD, and how close a call they were to have for their very lives.

  "No matter what care you exercise, you cannot overcome the awfulpower of the grinding ice," declared the gloomy scientist. "Ipredict that we will see most wonderful and terrifying sights."

  "Bless my hatband!" cried Mr. Damon, "don't say such dreadfulthings, Parker my dear man! Be more cheerful; can't you?"

  "Science cannot be cheerful when foretelling events of a direnature," was the response. "I would not do my duty if I did not holdto my theories."

  "Well, just hold to them a little more closely," suggested Mr.Damon. "Don't tell them to us so often, and have them get on ournerves, Parker, my dear man. Bless my nail-file! be more cheerful.And that reminds me, when are we going to have dinner, Tom?"

  "Whenever you want it, Mr. Damon. Are you going to act as cookagain?"

  "I think I will, and I'll just go to the galley now, and see aboutgetting a meal. It will take my mind off the dreadful things Mr.Parker says."

  But if the gloomy scientific man heard this little "dig" he did notrespond to it. He was busy jotting down figures on a piece of paper,multiplying and dividing them to get at some result in a complicatedproblem he was working on, regarding the power of an iceberg inproportion to its size, to exert a lateral pressure when slidingdown a grade of fifteen per cent.

  Mr. Damon got an early dinner, as they had breakfasted almost atdawn that morning, in order to get a good start. The meal was muchenjoyed, and to Abe Abercrombie was quite a novelty, for he hadnever before partaken of food so high up in the air, the barographof the RED CLOUD showing an elevation of a little over twelvethousand feet.

  "It's certainly great," the old miner observed, as he looked downtoward the earth below them, stretched out like some great reliefmap. "It sure is wonderful an' some scrumptious! I never thought I'dbe ridin' one of these critters. But they're th' only thing t' gitt' this hidden valley with. We might prospect around for a year, andbe driven back by the Indians and Eskimos a dozen times. But withthis we can go over their heads, and get all the gold we want."

  "Is there enough to give every one all he wants?" asked Tom, with aquizzical smile. "I don't know that I ever had enough."

  "Me either," added Ned Newton.

  "Oh, there's lots of gold there," declared the old miner. "The thingto do is to get it and we can sure do that now."

  The remainder of the day passed uneventfully, though Tom castanxious looks at the weather as night set in, and Ned, noting hischum's uneasiness, asked:

  "Worrying about anything, Tom?"

  "Yes, I am," was the reply. "I think we're in for a hard storm, andI don't know just how the airship will behave up in these northernregions. It's getting much colder, and the gas in the bag iscondensing more than I thought it would. I will have to increase ourspeed to keep us moving along at this elevation."

  The motor was adjusted to give more power, and, having set it sothat it, as well as the rudders, would be controlled automatically,Tom rejoined his companions in the main cabin, where, as nightsettled down, they gathered to eat the evening meal.

  Through the night the great airship plowed her way. At times Tomarose to look at some of the recording instruments. It was growingcolder, and this further reduced the volume of the gas, but as thespeed of the ship was sufficient to send her along, sustained by theplanes and wings alone, if necessary, the young inventor did notworry much.

  Morning broke gray and cheerless. A few flakes of snow fell. Therewas every indication of a heavy storm. They were high above adesolate and wild country now, hovering over a sparsely settledregion where they could see great forests, stretches of snow-coveredrocks, and towering mountain crags.

  The snow, which had been lazily falling, suddenly ceased. Tom lookedout in surprise. A moment later there came a sound as if some giantfingers were beating a tattoo on the roof of the main cabin.

  "What's that!" cried Ned.

  "Bless my umbrella! has anything happened?" demanded Mr. Damon.

  "It's a hail storm!" exclaimed Tom. "We've run into a big hailstorm. Look at those frozen stones! They're as big as hens' eggs!"

  On a little platform in front of the steering-house could be seenfalling immense hailstones. They played a tattoo on the woodenplanks.

  "A hail storm! Bless my overshoes!" cried Mr. Damon.

  "A hail storm!" echoed Mr. Parker. "I expected we would have one.The hailstones will become even larger than this!"

  "Cheerful," remarked Tom in a low voice, with an apprehensive lookat Ned.

  "Is there any danger?" asked his chum.

  "Danger? Plenty of it," replied the young inventor. "The frozenparticles may rip open the gas bag." He stopped suddenly and lookedat a gage on the wall of the steering-tower--a gage that showed thegas pressure.

  "One compartment of the bag has been ripped open!" cried Tom. "Thevapor is escaping! The whole bag may soon be torn apart!"

  The noise of the pelting hailstones increased. The roar of thestorm, the bombardment of the icy globules, and the moaning of thewind struck terror to the hearts of the gold-seekers.

  "What's to be done?" yelled Ned.

  "We must go up, to get above the storm, or else descend and findsome shelter!" answered Tom. "I'll first see if I can send the shipup above the clouds!"

  He increased the speed of the motor so that the propellers would aidin taking the ship higher up, while the gas-generating machine wasset in operation to pour the lifting vapor into the big bag.