Chapter 16

  Over a Fiery Furnace

  Down below, the aeronauts could see the crowd, led by the police,scurrying to and fro. Many individuals beside the officers appeared tobe holding weapons, and, from the puffs of smoke that spurted out, itwas evident that more shots were being fired. But the bullets could dono harm, and the Red Cloud, under the force of the rapidly revolvingpropellers, was soon beyond the center of the city.

  "Well, if that isn't the limit!" cried Tom. "They must have taken usfor a German war balloon, about to drop explosives on them."

  "Bless my liver!" ejaculated Mr. Damon, "I believe you're right. Eh,Mr. Sharp?"

  The veteran balloonist took a careful look over the craft beforereplying. Then he spoke:

  "It couldn't be that," and he shook his head, as if puzzled. "Theywould know no foreign airship would try any trick like that. Beside, ifby some remote possibility they did imagine it, there would be soldiersshooting at us, instead of the police. As it was, the whole populationseemed anxious to bring us down."

  "And they nearly did," added Mr. Damon. "If they had shot a few holesin the gas bag where would we be?"

  "Right in the air," answered the balloonist. "It would take severalvolleys of bullets to damage our aluminum container. It is in sectionsand when one, or even five compartments, for that matter, are pierced,there is enough gas in the others to sustain us. So they could not havedamaged us much, even if they had shot a lot of holes in us. Evenwithout the gas container we can keep afloat by constantly moving, forthe planes will serve their purpose. Of course they could damage us,and maybe put some of our machinery out of business, and that would bea serious thing. But what puzzles me is why they fired at us at all."

  "It couldn't be out of pure mischief; could it?" asked the younginventor.

  "Hardly. If we were in a savage country I could understand the nativesfiring at some such object as this airship, but the people of that citymust have known what our craft was. They probably have read somethingabout it in the news papers, and to deliberately fire on us, with thechance of disabling us, seems worse than barbarous."

  "Well, we won't give 'em another opportunity," commented Mr. Damon.

  "No, indeed, not this city, but who knows but what the example mayspread? We may be fired at the next town we sail over."

  "Then steer clear of the towns," advised Tom.

  "Impossible. We must pass over some, but I'd like to solve thismystery."

  The day passed without further incident, though they did not go lowenough down over any city to drop any messages. It was decided that itwould not be safe.

  "We'll take a chance at night," suggested Tom, and that evening,approaching a good-sized town in the dusk, several of the weightedenvelopes were dropped overboard. Doubtless persons walking along thestreet, who were startled by hearing something fall with a "thud" attheir feet, were much startled to look up and see, dimly, a great,ghostly shape moving in the air. But there was no shooting, and,eventually, some of the messages reached Mr. Swift, in Shopton. But hecould not answer them for the airship kept on the move.

  The night was spent floating in the air, with the engine stopped, andthe Red Cloud floating lazily this way and that as the gentle windsshifted, for it was calm. The "anchorage" if such it may be called, wasabove a sparsely settled part of the country, and if the lights of theairship were seen from below, the farmers doubtless took them for somenew stars or, possibly, a comet.

  "Now then for a fast, straight run!" cried Tom, after breakfast hadbeen served, and the big motor, with its twenty cylinders, started."We'll be able to make the turn to-day, and then make for home, won'twe, Mr. Sharp?"

  "Well, we could do it, Tom," was the answer, "but I like this mode oftraveling so that I think I'll lengthen the voyage. Instead of turningat Atlanta, what do you say to making for Key West, and then startingback? That will be something of a trip. The Red Cloud is behaving muchbetter than I hoped she would."

  "I'm willing to go further if Mr. Damon is."

  "Oh, bless my shoe strings, I'm game!" exclaimed the eccentric man. "Ialways did want to go to Key West, anyhow."

  The craft was speeding along at a fast clip, and dinner that day wasserved about three miles in the air. Then, desiring to test the glidingabilities of the airship, it was sent down on a long slant, with thepropellers stationary, the shifting planes and rudders alone guiding it.

  As the craft fairly slid down out of the sky, like a sled on a bank offleecy snow, Tom, who was peering ahead, with his hand on the steeringwheel, cried out "I say! It looks as if we were going to run into athunder storm!"

  "How's that?" inquired Mr. Sharp, poking his head from the motorcompartment.

  "He says there's a big storm ahead," repeated Mr. Damon, "and I guesshe's right. I see a big bank of dark clouds, and there is a roaring inthe air."

  Mr. Sharp, who had been making some adjustments to the motor wentforward to take a look. The Red Cloud was swiftly gliding downward on aslant, straight toward a dark mass of vapor, that seemed to be rollingfirst one way, and then another, while as Mr. Damon had said, there wasa low rumbling proceeding from it.

  "That doesn't seem to be a thunder storm," spoke the balloonist, with apuzzled air.

  They all regarded the dark mass of vapor intently for a few seconds.Tom had brought the airship to a more level keel, and it was nowspinning along under its own momentum, like a flat piece of tin, scaledby some lead. But it was headed for the clouds, if such they were,though losing speed by degrees.

  "I'll have to start the motor!" exclaimed Mr. Sharp. "We don't want torun into a storm, if we can help it, though I don't ever rememberseeing a thunder disturbance like that."

  "Whew! It's getting warm," suddenly announced the youth, and he let goof the steering wheel for a moment, while he took off his coat.

  "That's what it is," agreed Mr. Damon, who also divested himself of hisgarments. "Bless my spark plug, but it's like a July day. No wonderthere's a thunderstorm ahead."

  Then Mr. Sharp uttered a cry. "That's no storm!" he fairly shouted."It's a big forest fire! That's smoke we see! We must get out of this.Turn around Tom, while I start the engine. We must rise above it!"

  He fairly leaped for the motor, and Tom and Mr. Damon could hear himturning the levers and wheels, ready to start. But before theexplosions came something happened. There was a sound as of some great,siren whistle blowing, and then, with a howl of the on rushing air, theRed Cloud, the propellers of which hung motionless on their shafts, wasfairly sucked forward toward the fire, as the current sucks a boat overa water fall.

  "Start the motor! Start the motor, Mr. Sharp!" cried Tom.

  "I'm trying to, but something seems to be the matter."

  "We're being drawn right over the fire!" yelled Mr. Damon. "It'sgetting hotter every minute! Can't you do something?"

  "You take the wheel," called the balloonist to Mr. Damon. "Steeraround, just as if it was an auto when we start the engine. Tom, comehere and give me a hand. The motor has jammed!"

  The young inventor sprang to obey. Mr. Damon, his face showing some ofthe fear he felt, grasped the steering wheel. The airship was now abouta quarter of a mile high, but instead of resting motionless in the air,sustained by the gas in the container, she was being pulled forward,right toward the heart of the mass of black vapor, which it could nowbe seen was streaked with bright tongues of flame.

  "What's making us go ahead, if the motor isn't going?" asked Tom, as hebent over the machine, at which the aeronaut was laboring.

  "Suction--draught from the fire!" explained Mr. Sharp. "Heated airrises and leaves a vacuum. The cold air rushes in. It's carrying uswith it. We'll be right in the fire in a few minutes, if we can't getstarted with this motor! I don't see what ails it."

  "Can't we steer to one side, as it is?"

  "No. We're right in a powerful current of air, and steering won't doany good, until we have some motion of our own. Turn the gasolene leveron a little more, and see if you can get a spark
."

  Tom did so, but no explosion resulted. The twenty cylinders of the bigengine remained mute. The airship, meanwhile, was gathering speed,sucked onward and downward as it was by the draught from the fire. Theroaring was plainer now, and the crackling of the flames could be heardplainly. The heat, too, grew more intense.

  Frantically Tom and Mr. Sharp labored over the motor. With theperverseness usual to gas engines, it had refused to work at a criticalmoment.

  "What shall I do?" cried Mr. Damon from his position in the pilothouse. "We seem to be heading right for the midst of it?"

  "Slant the elevation rudder," called Tom. "Send the ship up. It will becooler the higher we go. Maybe we can float over it!"

  "You'd better go out there," advised Mr. Sharp. "I'll keep at thismotor. Go up as high as you can. Turn on more gas. That will elevateus, but maybe not quick enough. The gas doesn't generate well in greatheat. I'm afraid we're in for it," he added grimly.

  Tom sprang to relieve Mr. Damon. The heat was now intense. Nearer andnearer came the Red Cloud to the blazing forest, which seemed to coverseveral square miles. Great masses of smoke, with huge pieces ofcharred and blazing wood carried up by the great draught, circledaround the ship. The Red Cloud was being pulled into the midst of thefire by the strong suction. Tom yanked over the elevation rudder, andthe nose of the craft pointed upward. But it still moved downward, and,a moment later the travelers of the air felt as if they were over afiery furnace.

 
Victor Appleton's Novels
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