THE SANDSTORM.
His companion produced a tiny mirror, part of a pocket toilet set he
carried. Lieut. Sancho took it and held it over Jack’s lips.
“Praise the saints, there is still life in him. See!”
He held up the mirror for his companion’s inspection. It was blurred
faintly, showing that the boy was still breathing.
“Get the emergency outfit,” was the next order of the young Mexican
officer, and his companion soon produced the required kit from a box
under the seat of the military biplane.
The kit was the same as used by the armies of most civilized nations.
It contained, besides bandages and antiseptics for wounds, stimulants
and other drugs. Forcing Jack’s lips open, the lieutenant gave him
some stimulant, and was rewarded before long by a faint stirring on the
part of the boy.
He redoubled his efforts to revive him, and soon had the satisfaction
of seeing the boy’s eyes open and stare wildly about him. Not more
than ten minutes later Jack was sipping a cup of water and explaining,
between gulps, how he came to be in such a predicament. The officers
listened with interest and nodded appreciatively as the boy told his
story.
“This Alvarez is one of the most dangerous of the revolutionaries,”
declared Lieut. Sancho. “Since President Madero’s accession he has kept
things in the province stirred up in constant turmoil.”
“His presence in this part of the country shows that the rebel troops
cannot be far off,” struck in Lieut. Diaz, “so that we have to thank
our young friend here for some valuable information.”
“And I have to thank you for my life,” exclaimed Jack warmly. “I don’t
know how to thank you.”
“By consenting, if you feel strong enough, to take a ride with us in
our aeroplane. What you told us about Alvarez makes me anxious to be
off as soon as possible. If he is still in that valley we can capture
him, and that will be a crushing blow to the revolutionaries.”
Jack had seen aeroplanes before, but never at as close range as this
military one. It was painted a dark olive, with wings of a dull gray
color, the object being to make it as inconspicuous as possible. It had
a powerful six–cylinder motor and was driven by twin propellers. It was
built to carry two, but there was room on a folding seat for a third
passenger. Jack was told to occupy this extra seat and then Lieut.
Sancho and his comrade climbed on board.
“Hold tight!” cried Lieut. Sancho as he started his engine.
Steady as Jack’s nerves usually were, he felt rather alarmed at the
uproar that ensued. From the exhaust pipes of the motor smoke and flame
shot viciously. The slender fabric of the aeroplane shook tremulously
as the pulsations of the mighty engine racked its frame.
But suddenly another sound broke in—a sound that Jack had heard too
often before not to recognize it instantly.
It was the song of a bullet—the long drawn ze–e–e–ee of a rifle
projectile.
The two officers were as swift to hear the sound as Jack. Glancing up,
the three beheld simultaneously a body of horsemen sweeping down on
them from a range of barren–looking hills in the distance. As they rode
they fired till a perfect fusilade of bullets was whistling around the
aeroplane.
They were a wild–looking body of men. Most of them wore the sugar loaf
or cone–peaked hat of the Mestizo, and their serapes streamed out in
the breeze behind them. Dust and sweat covered their ponies, and a
great cloud of gray dust enveloped them.
“_Viva Alvarez!_” they cried as they swept on.
Lieut. Sancho saw that to resist them would be hopeless. Instead he
devoted all his efforts to starting his motor. At last, just as the
foremost of the horsemen were upon them, the aeroplane gave a jump
forward and scudded off like a live thing over the crowd.
This sudden motion of the great winged man–made bird so terrified the
ponies of the rebels, for a detachment of the revolutionists they were,
that the little creatures became uncontrollable and dashed off in every
direction. All the shouts and curses of their owners failed to rally
them, and after running a few hundred feet the aeroplane soared aloft,
unharmed except for a few bullet holes in her planes.
The sensation was a delightful one. As the bumping motion caused by
the run over the ground ceased, it felt to Jack as if he was riding
on billows of the softest cloud fabric. He had not the slightest
fear and watched Lieut. Sancho with interest while he manipulated
the various levers and wheels. As they flew the officer showed Jack
just how the air craft worked. He even let him take the wheel for
an instant, and declared that the boy acquitted himself like a born
airman. The aeroplane being fitted with stability devices of automatic
construction, it was, of course, possible to do this, where in another
sort of air machine it might have been dangerous to allow a novice to
handle the control wheel.
As they rose higher Jack cast a look back. The country was stretched
out like a panorama beneath him. On the plain he could see the
detachment of revolutionaries galloping about trying in vain to reform
their disorganized ranks.
“See if you can point out this wonderful valley of yours,” said Lieut.
Diaz presently.
Before long Jack sighted the hidden valley which had been the scene of
his thrilling climb. He recognized it by the tumbling cascade of water
that thundered whitely into the Pool of Death.
“There! There it is yonder!” he cried.
“It is indeed a wonderful place,” commented Lieut. Sancho as they
hovered like a huge eagle above the cliff–walled valley. “If one did
not know of it, it would be impossible to discover it.”
“Except by airship or by the Pool of Death,” said Jack.
Lieut. Sancho finally spied a good place to land and the aeroplane was
dropped rapidly into the valley. It settled with hardly a jar or a
quiver, much to Jack’s astonishment, who had feared it would collide
with the ground with considerable force.
“Well, I don’t see anything of your friend Alvarez,” commented Lieut.
Sancho, looking about him after they had left the aeroplane.
“Nor do I,” commented Jack in a rather astonished tone, “what can have
become of him?”
“Possibly he has escaped in some way. He is as cunning a fox as there
is in the country,” declared Lieut. Diaz.
Jack shook his head, however.
“There is no chance that he could have gotten out unless he followed my
path and I think he was not active enough for that.”
“Which way did you get out?” inquired Lieut. Diaz. “Where is that cliff
you told us about?”
Jack pointed to the frowning precipice he had scaled. The officers,
who could hardly be blamed for doubting him, gazed at the boy sharply.
But his frank, honest countenance and modest manner of telling his
story soon put their suspicions to rout, although Lieut. Diaz frankly
confessed:
“Señor, you are an American boy, and therefore tell the truth; but from
anyone else we should have laughed at the story.”
“It was nothing to laugh at, I assure you,” said Jack.
“I should imagine not,” agreed Lieut. Sancho, “one would hardly think a
fly could find footing on that place.”
“Looking up at it now,” said Jack with a laugh, “I myself begin to
doubt that I did it.”
A systematic search of the valley was begun, and of course ended
without result. One thing only was certain, Alvarez had gone. It was
a good thing possibly that Jack did not know then the manner of his
going, or what part the boy’s own friends had played in it. Had he done
so, he would have felt very downcast over the thought of by how narrow
a margin he had missed being reunited to them.
“Well,” declared Lieut. Diaz as they came to a halt near the Pool of
Death, “one thing is as certain as daylight, and that is that in some
manner Alvarez has escaped.”
“Not a doubt of it. But how?” rejoined his companion. “I confess I am
at a complete loss to understand how he effected his release.”
“Maybe another aeroplane came along and took him,” suggested Jack.
“That is the only thing I can think of.”
Entirely mystified, the two officers made arrangements for flight once
more. It had been agreed that Jack was to be landed in the Rangers’
camp, or, at any rate, close to it. The prospect of rejoining his
friends safe and sound rejoiced the boy, and he was in high spirits
when they sat down to partake of lunch before resuming flight.
They had concluded their meal when Jack noticed that there was a
peculiar look about the sky. From blue it had turned to a yellowish
tinge, and the sun glowed through it like a fiery copper ball. He drew
the attention of Lieut. Sancho to this, and the young officer and
his comrade in arms held a long consultation about the state of the
weather.
At its conclusion Lieut. Sancho announced that, although the weather
appeared threatening, yet they would go up. He explained that he and
his companion had to be back at their headquarters in time to report
the rebel attack and the near approach of the reactionary forces. If
they were to drop Jack on the way, there was no time to be lost.
The aeroplane was swiftly tuned up, and when all were on board Lieut.
Diaz, who had relieved Lieut. Sancho at the wheel, sent the big craft
up with a velocity that made Jack lose his breath. At a height of about
two hundred feet a sudden gust struck the air craft, causing it to
careen in a most alarming manner. For one dread instant it appeared to
Jack that the whole affair was doomed to turn turtle in mid–air; but
the stability devices worked just in time.
With a clicking and sliding sound the parts that composed the balancing
power of the machine slipped into their places and it resumed an even
keel.
As if to show his perfect mastery of the military dirigible, Lieut.
Diaz drove it straight up toward the overcast sky. A fairly stiff wind
was now beginning to blow, and to Jack the maneuver appeared risky
in the extreme. But, of course, he said nothing, although, looking
downward, earth looked fearfully remote. But to the two Mexican
officers all this was evidently part of the day’s work. At all events,
neither of them displayed the least anxiety; on the contrary, Lieut.
Sancho was busy noting the action of the barograph and barometer, and
jotting down the results of his observations in a small notebook.
All at once Jack, on glancing down, discovered that the earth had been
obliterated. A yellow fog, or it seemed to be fog, hid the surface of
the country from them. All at once something stinging struck the boy’s
face. It was sand.
With a gasp of alarm Jack realized that a sandstorm was raging below
them. He recalled the one near La Hacheta, in which the lads had seen
the flight of the ghostly camels. Seriously alarmed, he drew the
attention of his companions to what was going on. By this time, so
rapidly had the velocity of the wind increased that it was blowing
half a gale, great clouds of sand swept bewilderingly round them. The
aeroplane pitched and swayed like a ship in an angry sea. Jack held on
tight, thinking that every moment would be likely to be his last.
“We did wrong to come up so high,” admitted Lieut. Diaz.
“But you are going higher?” objected Jack.
“Yes. We must avoid that sand at all hazards. It won’t be so bad higher
up, I hope.”
“Why not drop to earth right now? It’s all flat country hereabouts,”
said Jack.
“In the first place, the sand would blind us and we would crash to
earth and be wrecked, in all probability. In the second place, if
even a little sand got into our engine it would ruin it,” rejoined the
officer.
Jack said no more. He felt rather ashamed, in fact, of having showed
his agitation so plainly. After all, the officers knew far more about
aeroplanes than he did, and perhaps there was a chance that they would
get through safely yet, He fervently prayed that they might.
Lieut. Diaz sat grimly at the wheel, driving the aeroplane ever upward.
Jack watched him admiringly. Not a trace of fear or of any other
emotion had flickered across his steadfast countenance since the battle
with the storm had begun.
They had driven their way far above the yellow sand fog and were
battling with the wind at an altitude of almost seven thousand feet,
when Lieut. Diaz gave a sudden gasp. He turned deadly pale and lurched
forward in his seat. Had not Lieut. Sancho caught him, he would have
toppled off into space. The aeroplane, released from a controlling
hand, gave a sickening dash downward.
“Wha–what has happened?” gasped Jack, genuinely alarmed now.
“It’s air sickness! Seize that controlling handle and do just as I tell
you. All our lives may depend on it!”