OVER THE MISSISSIPPI
“Who is in the pilot house?” asked Mr. Glassford.
“Ned is steering.”
“Tell him to turn the craft about. We’ll go against the wind a bit,
until I see what damage has been done. You come with me, Jerry; I may
need your help.”
Jerry and Mr. Glassford climbed up to a long, narrow platform,
suspended above the roof of the cabin of the airship, and held up by
cords attached to the net holding the gas bag. Then they walked along,
inspecting the vapor container for signs of a hole.
“I’ve found it!” cried Jerry. “Here it is. My, but that’s a strong gas!”
“Yes, don’t breathe it,” cautioned Mr. Glassford. “It is quite
poisonous, though comparatively harmless in the open air. I’ll see if I
can’t mend the tear.”
But it proved to be a larger one than could be repaired with the
facilities at hand. It seemed to have been made by some object being
fired through the material of which the bag was made, and at first
Jerry was inclined to think that it was caused by one of the bullets
from Noddy’s airgun. But a closer inspection by Mr. Glassford showed
that a nut had come loose from one of the iron braces of the port
propeller. The propeller had evidently whirled it with great force
against the thin material, tearing quite a rent in it.
“Well, we’ll have to lose part of our gas,” admitted Mr. Glassford as
he told Jerry to descend.
“Will it cause us to descend much?”
“Not a great deal. I can throw overboard some of the sand ballast, and
we will have about the same buoyancy as we had before.”
There was nothing else to do save to let the gas escape. Mr. Glassford
opened some of the bags of sand and allowed the contents to run out.
The effect was to keep the motor ship about at the same level.
“It seems to be going along as well as ever,” said Jerry. “You were
wise to divide the gas bag into sections.”
The _Comet_ continued to speed on. There was now no sight of any of the
competing airships, and our friends were hoping that they had left
them behind. One thing worried them, however--the fact that the wind
was still bearing them westward.
It was about noon when Ned, who was looking from the cabin window,
uttered a cry.
“We’re approaching a big body of water,” he said. “I can see it
sparkling below.”
“That’s a river, and it’s a mighty big one,” said Jerry, coming to the
window and looking down. “I must tell Mr. Glassford. Perhaps it will
give him his bearings.”
But the inventor had already seen the stream. As Jerry had said, it was
a very wide one.
“That’s the Mississippi River,” declared Mr. Glassford. “Now I know
where we are, but just how far south I can’t say. I think I’ll drop
down a bit, and perhaps we can get some information.”
“Can’t we drop some messages, too?” asked Jerry. “I think the folks at
home will be anxious about us. Let’s write some messages containing a
request that whoever picks them up should report us.”
“A good idea,” declared the inventor. “Write your messages, boys, and
I’ll send the motor ship as close to the earth as is safe. But I’ll not
do it until we cross the river. I have no desire for a bath now.”
The airship, deflected by the depressed rudder, went lower and lower.
As the travelers came closer the river loomed larger and larger, until
they could make out boats upon it. Then they saw a large city, slightly
to the south.
“Let’s cross that,” suggested Ned. “We can find out where we are, then.”
The _Comet_ was headed right across the city, and as it approached
lower and nearer to it the travelers could see people running about the
streets in great excitement and pointing upward.
“Take the telescope and see if you can make out the names on any of the
buildings,” suggested Mr. Glassford, and Ned did so.
“It’s Vicksburg!” he cried. “I see the name ‘Vicksburg National Bank.’”
“I did not think we were so far south as that,” remarked Mr. Glassford.
“If we don’t look out we’ll be over the Gulf of Mexico. Better drop
your messages, boys.”
The telegrams, with a note of explanation, had been encased in light
wooden cylinders, with ribbons attached. As the motor ship passed over
the center of the city the boys dropped their messages. They could see
the people running after them, waving their hands, and shouting, but
they could distinguish no words.
“We’ll go up now,” observed the inventor; and while a vast concourse of
people gazed upward at the strange sight, the _Comet_ was headed upward.
A little later it was sailing over the broad Mississippi River, and the
travelers in the air crossed from the State of Mississippi to that of
Louisiana.
They continued to go up for some time, and then Mr. Glassford, desiring
to make as long a flight as possible, now that it was impossible to
land at New Orleans, steered due west, intending to cross over into
Texas if possible.
“We must make as long a flight as we can,” he explained, “and if we
go much farther south we’ll be over the Gulf. Our ship is behaving
admirably, and there is no reason why we cannot cover part of Texas.”
“Have we gasolene enough?” asked Jerry.
“Enough for about six hundred miles yet, and that will just about do
it,” said the inventor.