A DESPERATE CHANCE
"Tell us the worst, Tom!" cried Beverly hoarsely.
Jack tried to echo the words, but his tongue seemed to stick to the
roof of his mouth. He knew his chum well enough to feel assured that
no ordinary hovering peril could cause the other to look so ashen
pale. It must be a frightful catastrophe by which they were
threatened, Jack realized.
"The feed pipe! It must be choking up! Latterly I've more than suspected
the motors were doing poorer work than before!"
The others understood. Under ordinary conditions they would decide on
dropping to the ground for repairs; a task that might be carried out in a
brief time, or consume hours, everything depending on the condition in
which they found things.
But how utterly impossible to dream of doing anything like that now! Jack
looked down to where, in the declining light of the sun, he could see
that limitless sea of billowy water. How different indeed all might be
were their airship a seaplane, capable of floating on the surface of the
water and making a successful launch from it, just as a gull would do.
"I'll take a look, Tom!" Lieutenant Beverly called out. "Not that I doubt
what you say, but all of us will have to put our heads together; we shall
need all our wits if what you fear proves to be a fact."
Tom was more than willing, in fact he would have himself insisted on the
lieutenant or Jack doing this very thing. Pilots differ in plenty of
ways; and, as Beverly had said, one might hit on an answer to the problem
that had entirely escaped the others.
Jack said not a word, but almost held his breath while Beverly was making
his eager examination. The plane was not more than a thousand feet above
the sea at most, and going very slowly now.
A short time elapsed. Then Beverly completed his task. The flight
lieutenant looked more serious than ever, which told the story even
before he uttered a single word.
Apparently the worst had come, and they were up against a question on the
answer to which everything, even life itself, depended.
"I'm sorry to say it's a positive fact, boys!" called out Beverly, and
as both the others were straining their ears to catch what he said, they
had no difficulty in hearing every word.
"It's the supply pipe clogging then?" Tom asked.
"Yes," came the quick answer. "And while under some conditions I've been
able to get along for a short time without dropping down, as a rule I've
found it wise to look for a landing-place before things got to the point
of desperation and avoid a fall, possibly in the midst of a German
battalion."
"No chance of our getting at it while afloat, is there?" Jack asked,
although he knew what Beverly was bound to say.
"Not the slightest," the other shot back. "It might keep going for
something like an hour, and then shut off the gas entirely. Of course
there's always a possibility of a miracle happening, such as the
obstruction being suddenly overcome; but I'm afraid that's one chance in
a million."
"But can't something be done, boys? Must we just fold our hands, and meet
our fate?" demanded Jack. "What are you thinking about, Tom, for I can
see a look in your face that we ought to know? Have you an idea--is there
yet a hope that we can get a grip on this danger, and choke it?"
Tom's face was still colorless, but there was a gleam in his eye, which
Jack had discovered. Perhaps after all it might be only the light of
desperation, a determination to die game if a cruel fortune decreed that
their time had come. Jack could not tell.
"Yes, I have a plan," said Tom quickly. "Perhaps you'll both call it a
wild idea, and think I'm crazy; but desperate cases call for equally
desperate remedies, and at the worst we'll have a chance."
"Good boy, Tom!" cried Jack. "Just like you to hit on a plan! Haven't
I known you to come to the front many times when things looked very
black for us?"
"Tom, tell your scheme!" demanded Beverly. "Things may develop faster
than we suspect now, and if there's any way to get around this trouble
the sooner we start the better."
"Of course," Tom replied, "we'll be taking the risk of smashing the nose
of our craft when we strike, unless luck favors us. I've landed on every
sort of ground, from smooth velvety turf to bumpy stuff that almost
joggled me to pieces; but I never before tried dropping on an ice-floe!"
Beverly and Jack stared hard at each other. Apparently the idea struck
them like a sudden blow, showing that neither had as yet contemplated
such a thing.
Then they turned and stared down at the wide field of floating ice that
was attached to the towering bulk of the mighty berg, as though weighing
the possibility of Tom's amazing suggestion in their minds.
Jack gave a shout.
"Tom, you're a genius, that's what you are!" he almost shrieked in the
intensity of his emotion. "I honestly believe it can be done
successfully."
"We'd have to drop a whole lot lower, so as to take a closer survey, and
learn just how smooth the surface of the floe is," Tom continued.
"I've looked through the glasses," replied Jack. "And as far as I could
make out it seemed fairly decent. I know we've landed on worse ground
many a time, and without being wrecked."
"Look again then, while I'm dropping down," urged Tom.
All of them were tremendously excited, as may readily be believed. And
who would not have been under similar conditions? Although army air
pilots are accustomed to taking great risks, and seldom go up without the
thought flitting through their minds that their hour may be close at
hand, still they are human, and when the dreadful crisis springs upon
them they can feel the chilly hand that seems to clutch the heart.
Jack soon made his report.
"Yes, it looks good to me!" he cried, with a hopeful ring to his voice.
"I can see a crack or two that would be bad for us to run into; but
there's a clear field over on the north side of the floe. I'm sure we
could make it without getting badly shaken up. Then it's our only chance;
if we miss this what else could we do?"
"Nothing," Tom replied quietly. "But I'm going to circle the berg, and
see what lies on the other side."
"Whatever we decide to do," remarked Beverly, who seemed to have
recovered to a great extent from his first perturbation, "we must lose no
time about carrying it out. That feed pipe might become fully clogged at
any minute, you know. Then besides, the sun is ready to dip down behind
the sea horizon, when we'll soon be plunged into darkness."
"Yes," agreed Tom, "we mustn't fool away our time. It's going to be no
easy job to make a safe landing on the ice, something none of us has ever
practiced. But it'd be still worse to go at it haphazard."
The others knew what was in Tom's mind. Should they seriously injure the
big bombing plane there would be no way of making repairs. On land it
could be turned over to the repair-shop, and inside of a week perhaps
emerge once more in as good shape as ever. No such convenience could be
looked for out there in mid-Atlantic!
In a short time they had circled the great mass of ice. They all fully
realized now how cold it was, and why the sea water must be affected for
a mile or more all around such a tremendous bit of the Arctic regions.
They found that most of the floe lay on the north side of the berg; and
decided that their best chance for landing must be in that quarter.
"The old berg looks top-heavy," Jack at one time called out. "You can see
that it leans toward the north; and sometimes I've thought it wobbled
considerably, though that may have been the plane waving up and down."
"No, you were right, Jack," said Beverly. "Its leaning that way tells
that the warmer sea water has begun to eat at its base. Before a great
while the berg will roll over, and smash all that floe into bits."
"I hope not when we're on it, working at our motor!" Jack could not keep
from exclaiming, looking with more interest than ever at the monster berg
that had come all this distance from some glacier a thousand miles away,
perhaps several times that distance, and would sooner or later lose
itself in sub-tropical waters.
Lower still Tom took them. All eyes continued to survey the field of
ice, particularly in that extreme northern sector where Jack had reported
lay the best place for landing.
"Once more in a circle so as to face the wind," said Tom, "and then I
mean to put it to the test."
"Good luck to you, Tom!" said Jack. "If ever you dropped as if you were
falling on eggs, let it be now. I'm going to hold my breath when we
strike the ice, and only hope we don't keep gliding along until we shoot
off the edge into the sea!"
"Leave that to me, Jack," came the assurance of the pilot.
After that no one said a word, for both Lieutenant Beverly and Jack
Parmly realized that it would be dangerous to distract Tom's attention
from his work just at the most critical moment.
The sun had reached the horizon, and inside of a few minutes must
vanish from view. At that moment Tom shut off the engine, and made
ready to alight!