ACROSS THE ATLANTIC
Our friends looked at each other dismally when they had ascertained the
cause of the Sky-Bird's sluggish flying. Paul and Tom even gave the
craft a tentative push, and found that the loss of her helium had made
her so much heavier to move over the ground that the difference was
manifest at once.
"This looks kind of black for us, fellows," remarked Bob.
"And we've got those scoundrels to thank for it without the shadow of a
doubt," put in Paul, with flashing eyes. "I'd give a year of my life
to get my hands on that Pete Deveaux right now."
"It's lucky they got out ahead of us," added Tom significantly.
"Well, if they were here, and if we thrashed the stuffing out of the
entire bunch, that wouldn't put back our lost helium and former speed,"
said the practical John. "What we've got to do now is to try to remedy
matters."
"Easier said than done, I'm thinking," Tom observed. "We can't get any
more helium here; in fact, not until we get back to Panama. Of course
that will be too late."
"I don't know about that," hinted John.
"What's your remedy?" asked Bob.
"I know," said Paul. "The machine's out of balance now, because they
have let more helium out of one wing than the other, and none at all
out of the fuselage. By letting some out of our body tank, and enough
out of the lightest wing to bring it in equilibrium with its mate, we
can get a perfect balance again, and that ought to give us air
steadiness and more speed."
"Right you are, Buddy," declared John. "Good head! That's my idea
exactly."
"But won't that make us even heavier than we are now?" inquired Bob.
"Sure," responded John, "but balance is the main thing in an airplane,
you know. When we get that, the old girl will act a whole lot better
than she did coming here."
"Still, our rivals will have some advantage over us," argued Tom.
"That's true--in the way of a lighter machine. But we've shown we
could outspeed them when the Sky-Bird was all right, and now we ought
to be about an even match for them," said John.
"That means a nip-and-tuck race of it, then, the rest of the way,"
commented Paul.
At this point a bright idea struck Bob. "Say, fellows," he cried, "why
can't we send a wire message from here to Mr. Giddings at Panama, and
ask him to have a fast vessel drop a tank of helium off at Nukahiva,
Marquesas Islands, for us?"
His comrades slapped Bob so hard upon the back when he made this
suggestion that he had to stagger.
"Fine idea, Bob!" declared John. "A fast boat ought to reach Nukahiva
before we do, and that will give us a full load of helium again for the
last four or five thousand miles of the race. If it's a close contest
up to that point, the new supply may save the day for us!"
They now set to work equalizing the gas supply in the wings of the
Sky-Bird and reducing that in the fuselage to the proper pressure for
perfect equilibrium, which they were able to get by the use of the
pressure-gauge and a little figuring. Then they went over all parts of
the machine, put in gasoline and oil, and attended to watering the
radiators, following which Paul and Bob departed for town.
As in Georgetown, they created a vast interest, and were considerably
annoyed by the crowds of natives which followed at their heels, many of
whom carried baskets of fruit on their heads and constantly importuned
them to buy some of their wares. Even in the windows of the houses
they passed women holding naked babies, who stared out at them, and in
the doorways stood girls, some of them beautifully gowned in silks,
their dark hair falling like a shower about their comely nut-brown
faces, while their eyes opened wide in wonder or dropped in abashment
when they saw one of the handsome young Americans look their way.
Para is directly on the equatorial line. It is also the metropolis of
the mighty Amazon, the king of all the world's rivers, whose width here
at its mouth is close to two hundred miles, and which carries into the
Atlantic so much mud from the interior of South America that it is said
the waters of that ocean are stained yellow for five hundred miles
outward. This mighty stream is formed by countless mountain creeks and
rivers draining practically the whole northern half of the continent,
and these streams are formed in their turn by the heavy rains which
fall frequently from swiftly-gathered clouds. In fact, it rains nearly
every afternoon in Para, and the air is always moist, so much so, that
articles made of steel and iron quickly rust, and furniture must be
pegged together rather than glued to keep it from coming apart.
Paul and Bob found Para quite a good-sized city, but on very low
ground. Along the docks of the mighty river were many kinds of boats
and ships, from stately ocean-liners to the tub-like barges used to
float down from Bolivia great cargoes of raw rubber. There were
numerous schooners unloading vegetables and fruit, and countless
dugouts paddled by natives. Cargadores, in their bare feet, were
carrying goods in and out of the various large craft, supporting the
heaviest of bundles on their bare heads. Their faces were all shades
of white, brown, and black. Among them were negroes from Jamaica, and
Spaniards, Portuguese, and mulattoes from all parts of Brazil.
The business buildings were three and four stories high, and built
close to the sidewalks along narrow streets. Their walls, the boys
noticed as they crowded their way along, were of all colors, some being
faced with blue, yellow, and green porcelain tiles.
By asking questions they found the telegraph office, and there sent the
message to Mr. Giddings at Panama, requesting that the helium-gas be
sent to Nukahiva by fastest boat. They also wired a report of their
progress. They had by this time another roll of exposed kodak films,
and this was mailed to the _Daily Independent_.
No sooner had they reappeared from the post-office than they were once
more besieged with peddlers asking them to make a purchase of their
wares. Paul and Bob stopped when they saw some particularly
luscious-looking oranges and bananas, and were surprised upon asking
the price to find that they could have a dozen of each kind for the
value of five cents; and oh! how sweet and juicy they were when they
sank a tooth into them.
They bought some baked goods in a little shop, and as they emerged an
old man with a parrot on one shoulder and a small monkey on the other
blocked their pathway, and begged them to look at "nice parryote, nice
monk."
They shook their heads, when they saw other vendors crowding forward,
and were about to push by when the monkey sprang nimbly upon Paul's own
shoulder, snatched off his cap, shook it in front of his eyes, and put
it back in place again.
Paul and Bob both laughed, and harder yet as the bright little animal
shot a paw into Paul's pocket and adroitly drew out a Brazilian gold
coin called a milreis, worth about fifty-four cents in American money.
"You give five milreis, me give monk," said the old mulatto.
Paul shook his head.
"You give four milreis, me give monk."
"No; that's more than I have of these coins."
"You give three milreis, me give--"
"Only have two of them left," said Paul.
"You give two milreis, take monk."
"It's a bargain," laughed Paul.
And he fished another of the coins out of his pocket, accepted the end
of the rope tied to the monkey, and went off with Bob, his
newly-acquired pet still contentedly occupying his shoulder.
"We'll surprise John and Tom when we get back to the field," chuckled
Paul. "They won't be looking for this addition to the crew of the
Sky-Bird."
"I'd say not," declared Bob, also chuckling.
And indeed Paul's little hairy friend did create a lot of interest when
they arrived beside the airplane, John and Tom both playing with him,
for several minutes, and going into hilarious laughter at the funny
antics of the weazened-faced creature, which looked so much like the
wrinkled old mulatto from whom he had been purchased, that Paul said he
should henceforth be called "Grandpa."
They put the monkey in the cabin, and climbed in themselves, since all
was in readiness for the departure. Night had fallen, but the sky was
clear and moonlit. So there was no trouble, by helping matters with
their searchlight, in hopping off and turning their head across the big
Atlantic toward the shores of Africa.
As the trade-winds were blowing quite stiffly in their faces, John, who
was at the throttle, determined to mount high enough to overcome their
most resistant effects. When at an altitude of about five thousand
feet, he brought the Sky-Bird out horizontally, with her nose set by
compass toward Freetown. Before they could reach this African seaport
it would be necessary for them to travel considerably more than two
thousand miles and meet whatever storms might develop. But all had
such confidence in the capabilities of the Sky-Bird that none had any
worries, fierce as some of the Atlantic storms were known to be.
As they could no longer see the sea beneath them, owing to the darkness
and fog which lay between, John had to rely entirely upon intuition and
his compass to strike Freetown. Aerial navigation over immense bodies
of water is similar to navigation on the seas themselves, except that
the indispensable sextant of the mariner is of little use in the air,
owing to the high speed of travel and the fact that allowances have to
be made for the drift of the machine when side-winds are blowing--an
extremely difficult factor to determine accurately.
In side-winds the machine makes leeway in addition to its forward
movement, and it is the ratio of one to the other which the successful
pilot must work out correctly, especially when flying above clouds or
when land features are unobserved. In this particular instance our
boys were supplied with charts indicating the trend of all normal winds
in each locality and their approximate force at various altitudes.
Thus, by consulting his speedometer, John was able to figure out with a
fair degree of certainty what allowances he should make from dead
reckoning in order to strike their destination--or rather, we should
say that Tom, as John's aid, did most of this figuring, for a pilot
generally has his hands full in guiding his steed.
The Sky-Bird was acting much better now, since her equalizing of weight
back at Para. She lacked some of the speed of her old-time self, but
rode smoothly and evenly in the hardest gusts. It was once more a
pleasure to sit in her cabin, even if the rival airplane was ahead of
them.
"We'll give them the race of their lives yet," observed Tom, as he
studied the map and the speedometer alternately.
"We surely will," said his companion.
And both of them clicked their teeth in a way which boded no good for
the rival craft ahead.
Shortly before midnight they crossed the equator for the second time
since they had left Panama. But, rolled in their comfortable hammocks
and sound asleep, with Grandpa, the monkey, blinking drowsily in a
corner nearby, neither Bob nor Paul was conscious of the fact.