A SIBERIAN ADVENTURE
“Brrr-rr!” chattered Hiram Dobbs, with a shiver. “I say, Dave, have we
got to stand this much longer?”
“I sincerely hope not,” replied the young pilot of the _Comet_, in a
really concerned tone. “I hoped to outride the storm. But it appears to
me the snow is coming down thicker and faster every minute.”
“I’m just about drifted in,” piped up Elmer.
The scene was a vast void, a chaos. The three young airmen were much in
the situation of a ship driven before a blinding gale in unknown,
fog-covered waters. All bearings were lost. The angle glide was obscured
with snow; Dave resembled a great white statue. The biplane was the
rushing center of large driving flakes whirling in eddies all about
them.
They had run thus for nearly an hour, but now the machine, staunch and
reliable as it was, threatened to depart from its usual good conduct
record. The planes were crusted and over-weighted. The bulk of snow
Hiram and Elmer tried to dislodge from other parts of the machine was
duplicated before they could go the entire rounds.
There had been several ominous creaks. Once the _Comet_ struck an air
pocket. Through some deft but dangerous skidding the pilot evaded this
peril. A sudden change in the wind almost precipitated a new
catastrophe.
“I don’t know what we are going to strike,” said our hero; “but we’ve
got to make a landing. No machine could stand much more of this.”
“Good,” cried Hiram heartily, as the _Comet_ made a rapid dive that was
nearly a somersault. “It’s solid land all right. I was afraid it might
be water, and a ducking just now—brrr—rr!”
When Dave had told his friends way back in Canada that their motto must
be “business, strictly business,” he and they had set themselves
zealously to work to carry out the sentiment. Dave was an expert airman.
The _Comet_ was a noble machine of its type. They had met with “good
luck,” too, Hiram had insisted. The biplane crossed the vast stretch of
Canadian wilderness without a mishap.
At Sitka no new trap nor harmful attempt on the part of their enemies
had confronted them. A government official had been deputized by
telegraph from Washington to receive and identify the contestants as
they arrived. The crew of the _Comet_ were proud and happy to learn that
they were the first on the scene.
They rested a day at Sitka. Dave realized that the hardest part of the
route lay before them. It was no easy task to pilot a course past Cape
Prince of Wales, across Bering Strait and make sure of reaching
Stamavoie, a point in Kamchatka where arrangements had been made for
gasoline and other supplies.
Elmer had started keeping what he called a “log.” During the ensuing six
days he had some odd and spirited incidents to record. They had left the
mild fall weather behind them and encountered genuine wintry blasts. The
expert young pilot took no unnecessary risks. Their stops were frequent,
and for the most part fortunately they managed to land near settlements
or habitations. Dave had to accommodate the machine to new wind
conditions. He and his friends suffered a good deal with the cold. It
was now late afternoon, and according to calculations and the charts
they were traversing Siberian territory.
The storm had not abated one whit as all three of the boys left the
biplane. They found themselves ankle deep in a soft clinging snow.
“We can’t stay here,” said the young aviator.
“Hardly,” replied Hiram, “unless we want to see the machine and all
hands covered up in a snowdrift within an hour.”
“We have lost our exact reckoning,” added Dave, “and no landmarks to go
by. We are somewhere between Zashiversh and Virkni. Probably we have
landed on what is known as the Nijni steppe. It is something of a barren
waste, if I remember right, but dotted here and there with stations and
a few little farms.”
“Wish we could find one of them,” grumbled Hiram, good naturedly.
“No chance of supper if we don’t,” observed Elmer.
“See here, fellows, we’ll push the machine along, anyway, and see what
we come to,” remarked Dave. “Any shelter is better than this all out of
doors position. Even a stretch of timber or the side of a hill would
seem homelike just now.”
“It’s better to keep moving, anyhow,” declared Hiram, stamping his feet
vigorously. “This will be a big thing to tell about if we ever get home
again, fellows.”
“Steady,” ordered Dave, and he slowed up the biplane, the wheels of
which ran along pretty lightly, deep as the snow was. “The ground is
changing. Stop the machine. I’ll prospect a bit ahead.”
In addition to the enveloping gloom of the storm, it had begun to get
dusk. Dave proceeded alone. He discovered that the ground was rough and
rising. Then he ran against a tree, and clearing his sight of the
obstructing snowflakes he made out that they had come upon a little
stretch of timber.
“Come on, but cautiously,” he called back to his comrades.
The _Comet_ was pushed along and halted between two heavily needled
trees, affording it considerable shelter. Hiram gave a shout of delight
as he discovered a spot where the ground was almost bare. A double row
of immense fir trees formed a protecting canopy for several yards.
“Come in out of the wet, Dave!” shouted Elmer, in a jolly tone, joining
Hiram, and all hands shook the snow from their garments.
“Shelter, plenty of fuel and a chance for a warm meal,” observed Hiram
with satisfaction. “Here’s some good bits of wood,” and he began
gathering up pieces of dead branches with which the spot was littered.
“I’ll get a lantern,” said Dave, moving over towards the biplane.
“This is not half bad,” declared Elmer, assisting his comrade in
gathering up the loose fuel.
“Say, what’s that?”
Hiram spoke in a startled tone. He dropped his armful of wood and stood
stock still. Elmer edged nearer to him.
An ominous sound had greeted their hearing. It was a howl near at hand,
sharp and resonant. Then it was repeated. Staring in the direction from
which the sounds came, Hiram jumped back, shouting out sharply:
“It’s wolves! Dave, look out! Elmer, grab a club! Quick! Here they
come!”
Scurrying forms came flying into the tree-formed arcade. The outlines
were dim, but none the less threatening and terrifying. Hiram had
grabbed up a heavy piece of wood. Elmer was no coward, and did not lose
his nerve. He armed himself speedily as his comrade had done, and ranged
himself by his side.
“It’s wolves,” declared Hiram—“two, three, half a dozen of them. Stand
steady”—whack!
Fiery-eyed, red-tongued, seeming to skim the ground, the foremost animal
of an alarming pack came flying towards the boys. Hiram had struck out.
The blow was aimed with all his strength and skill. It sounded like a
hammer landing hard on a thick metal ball.
The animal fell back to all fours and limply turned to one side. Two
others leaped boldly over its slinking body.
“Strike your hardest,” puffed and panted Hiram. Whack! whack! One of the
new combatants of the boys limped off with a shattered paw. The other,
infuriated with pain from a terrific clip across the jaws, made direct
for Elmer. Its claws clutched its prey by the shoulders. Its distended
mouth sought the lad’s throat.
Once, twice, thrice the billet of wood in the grasp of Hiram arose and
descended. The wolf dropped away, dripping with blood, but Elmer was
saved from its murderous fangs.
“They’re coming,” he cried “A half dozen of them! Oh, good! It’s all
right now.”
Over the imperilled lads and beyond them, and squarely into the faces of
the howling pack, a great glare suddenly shot out. Dave had caught the
situation at Hiram’s first outcry. He could not in a hurry reach the
armament of weapons carried by the _Comet_. The big reflector lantern,
however, was kept always in a handy spot, especially at nightfall. Dave
had secured this. Lighting it as he ran, he flared its broad beams,
focused to a dazzling brilliancy. The wolves, blinded and affrighted,
drew off with sullen, menacing growlings.
“Light the fire. It will be an added safeguard,” ordered the young
airman rapidly, and he moved in a circle, swinging the lantern glow
continuously.
Hiram hurriedly got leaves, chips and branches together in a heap. He
flared a match and ignited it.
“Those animals have given us up as hard cases, I guess,” observed Elmer,
with a laugh, half nervous, but quite triumphant.
“We must draw the machine closer to us,” suggested Dave. “Help me,
Elmer.”
The campfire began to blaze, Dave, with the lantern, ventured as far as
the spot where the _Comet_ was. With the aid of his companion the
biplane was wheeled a few yards along the arcade, where it seemed they
must make a camp, at least until the storm abated.
Hiram was getting ready to secure some food and cooking utensils from
the machine, when he paused, bent his ear, and his face expressed a new
alarm.
“Hark!” he cried out sharply. “What was that?”