CHAPTER XXIII.

THE FLIERS WARN KORAKUM.

After a hectic morning, all was ready for the take-off as one-thirty

o’clock approached. Right up to the last minute, Frank was kept by Stone

at practising landing and taking-off within a limited space for,

although the description given by the young revolutionists of the

tremendous size of the arena promised sufficient space for the delicate

work of alighting and re-ascending, yet Frank must be perfect.

Otherwise, if the plane smashed, the expedition would be wrecked. Once

inside of Athensi and the Coliseum, the only way to escape would be by

means of the plane.

Understanding full well the responsibility resting upon him, Frank

concentrated on the task in hand. An expert aviator with four years of

flying to his credit, he won the approval of Roy Stone as he managed the

plane in masterly fashion and as his landings and ascents approached

perfection. Finally, when twice in succession he had landed and

re-ascended within an oval traced on the desert sand which all the

Athensians, who could not recall the exact measurements of the arena,

declared according to the best of their recollection was even smaller

than that of the Coliseum, Stone ordered him to cease his efforts and

rest for an hour.

At the end of that period, sharp at one-thirty, the take-off was made.

What a cheering and hullabaloo there was as, with Frank at the stick,

and Stone and Amrath riding as passengers, the start of the flight was

made. Brilliant sunlight flooded the desert and, gathered in a group a

bit out from the Great Mountain Wall, revolutionists, Arabs and Jack and

Mr. Hampton waved farewells and called Godspeeds to the expedition.

Amrath occupied the seat beside Frank, for his was the task of piloting

the flight. Stone, sitting in the rear pit from which had been removed

the drums of gasoline which formed his surplus fuel supply, in order to

make room for Bob on the return trip, had his gas bombs nicely adjusted.

A grim smile crossed his features as he regarded them. Let one of those

bombs light on the stone platform of the Janissaries in the middle of

the arena, and those gentlemen would give no trouble to anybody for

quite some time.

Jack and Frank had clasped hands just before the latter clambered to his

seat, and the look in his eyes told better than words could have done

the gratitude he felt because his chum had stepped aside unselfishly and

given him the opportunity to fly the plane.

A running start out over the desert, away from the Great Mountain Wall,

a spurning of the sand, a turn in the air, and then higher and higher

mounted Frank seeking altitude. Those watching from the sands saw the

plane grow smaller and smaller until it seemed to their sun-dazzled eyes

only a mote dancing in the sun. Then away toward the Great Mountain Wall

headed Frank, crossed its serrated summit and disappeared.

Mr. Hampton’s eyes were moist and his lips moved soundlessly in a prayer

from the heart for the success of the expedition and the safe return of

all concerned.

Jack’s eyes were unashamedly moist, too, and, as they trudged back apart

from the others, Mr. Hampton’s arm went across his son’s shoulders and

stayed there. The two were very close in that hour.

A guard of six, four Athensian revolutionists and two Arabs, had been

left in the valley of Korakum to watch the river approach. Accordingly,

it was deemed unnecessary for the balance of the party which had

witnessed the start of the flight, to return at once and, instead, a

halt was made under the trees of the grove where the radio station had

been set up.

Jack took his seat at the instruments, while the others crowded around,

eager to hear the first word received from the plane with which, of

course, constant communication could be maintained. Earlier, before

going down to the desert after his rest period to begin the flight,

Frank had broadcasted a message of cheer to Bob, in the faint hope that

he might be able to receive it, telling him of the effort to be made

that afternoon for his rescue.

At once Jack began calling, and back came Stone’s voice in re-assuring

accents almost immediately, telling that they had cleared the Mountain

Wall in handsome style, that the plane was performing flawlessly, and

that even the cross-currents of wind which tugged at them, sweeping down

valleys and canyons and around mountain peaks, seemed to make no

difference to Frank. To the latter’s skill, Stone paid handsome tribute.

All this Jack repeated to his auditors and Ali and Jepthah interpreted

for the Arabs and the revolutionists respectively. Jepthah had stayed to

witness the start of the expedition instead of rejoining his command and

now intended to wait the few hours more which would tell its outcome.

Suddenly, excitement seized Jack. His brow contracted, his eyes blazed.

“Say that again,” he shouted into the transmitter.

A moment of concentrated listening, then:

“All right, I’ll tell them. How far away, did you say? Twenty-five miles

of straight flying. All right, all right. We’ll be ready for them.”

Tearing off the headset in his eagerness, he whirled around to the crowd

which, alarmed by his tone even though the words were not understood by

most, had drawn close about him. His eyes sought and found Jepthah and

him he addressed:

“There’s an attack against Korakum coming by way of the river. As the

airplane crossed a gorge twenty-five miles from here through which the

subterranean river ran exposed, Amrath counted three boatloads of armed

men making their way toward Korakum. There may be more. He didn’t see

them. About twelve men in a boat.”

“Perhaps, they are not advancing on Korakum,” suggested Mr. Hampton.

Jepthah shook his head in negation.

“They could be going nowhere else,” he said. “Well, thanks to our

friends, we are warned. We shall be ready for them.”

Turning, he issued a crisp order in Athensian which caused the

revolutionists in the group to dart away at once. Their bare legs

flashed as they raced through the grove, then they leaped over the

underbrush at the edge of the terrace without even seeking out the path

which had been cut through it, and started running up the Great Road.

“Your Arabs,” said Jepthah, tersely, to Mr. Hampton, “can we count on

them?”

“They are free agents,” said the latter. “I’ll ask Ali.”

The latter, standing close at hand, did not wait to be appealed to.

“We are at your command, sir,” he said to Jepthah.

Between this educated Arab with his cosmopolitan experience and air of

mystery, and all the young Athensian revolutionists, had developed a

warm feeling of mutual liking and respect.

“I knew it,” said Jepthah. “Good. Would you take your men and report at

once to Lieutenant Horeb.”

The latter had not gone down the Great Road to witness the start of the

flight, but had remained in command of the tunnel guard.

Ali gave a quick nod, more eloquent than words, said something in Arabic

to his four companions, whose eyes gleamed with satisfaction at the

prospect of a fight, and without more ado the five set out in pursuit of

the revolutionists.

Only Jack, Mr. Hampton and Jepthah were left in the little grove. Even

the camels were missing, having been taken to the valley of Korakum to

graze. Hardly had the last Arab disappeared up the Great Road than the

clatter of hoofs was heard approaching, and a man on horseback dashed by

making for the desert at a break-neck pace.

“Twenty-five miles away,” explained Jepthah. “The river flows swiftly,

and they will row besides. Yet they cannot reach Korakum for an hour or

more. I ordered one of the men to ride to the other pass and bring help.

Thirty-six men will outnumber us two to one, and it is more than likely

there will be many more.”

“Can help arrive from the other pass in time?” asked Mr. Hampton,

anxiously.

“Not before the attack begins,” answered Jepthah. “But we will have the

advantage, and can hold the enemy off, for a time.”

The defenders of Korakum had thrown up earth works at each bank of the

river, where it broke from the interior mountain range into the valley.

Besides, for a considerable distance along the river, inside the tunnel,

they had dumped heaps of big rocks which rose close to the surface and

against which, in the gloom, carried along by the swift current, boats

approaching from Athensi would be smashed. Where the river emerged into

the open, strong nets had been spread under the surface, staked down to

the banks, and sharp stakes also had been driven into the river bottom.

The result was that boats approaching from Athensi would have a perilous

gauntlet to run. Smashed against the rocks inside the tunnel, their

occupants would be carried along into the nets and, if they managed to

get through these, they would be involved in the sharpened sunken stakes

below. All the time, rifle fire would be playing on them from the

earthworks, and showers of arrows would be whirring into their midst.

Determined men, of course, could effect a landing, but only at a

tremendous loss of life. It was said of the Athensian Janissaries,

however, that they were absolutely fearless. Their ranks were recruited

from the sturdiest, strongest sons of the peasants, seized from their

homes before old enough to have imbibed the popular hatred of the

Oligarchs and trained in the practise of arms at Athensi. They never saw

their relatives again and became mere creatures of the Oligarchy.

Knowing they were hated and despised by the people as traitors to their

blood, and that if captured they would be slain without mercy, they

fought with unparalleled ferocity when employed to quell the numerous

rebellions.

The Radio Boys Seek the Lost Atlantis · 第 23 / 28 章