RIDING AN AIRPLANE'S TAIL
Filled with the gravest fears for the safety of the Sky-Bird and
themselves, all except Bob rushed to the rear windows of the cabin and
looked out to see what had caused the ripping noise, and what could be
wrong with the tail.
Paul reached a point of vantage first. One swift look showed him the
trouble. The left elevator had a big hole through it, made by the
stone, fragments of silk showing all round the ragged gap. But this
could not have caused the derangement of the steering controls
entirely, and looking for a reason, Paul saw that the impact had caused
the wire running to the right elevator to become twisted around a
bracket near the end of the fuselage. Under this condition neither
elevator could be controlled. With the good one held downward, it was
no wonder that the airplane had started a stubborn, slow dive toward
the ocean in spite of Bob's frantic efforts to work the lever normally
effecting it.
"Shut off your engine!" called Paul to Bob. "That will hold us back.
Three minutes of time I think will save us!"
With the words, Paul seized the end of a long coil of rope which lay
near, and fastened it about his waist. Both Bob and John saw what he
meant to do. He would crawl out upon the fuselage and attempt to
untangle the inactive control wire, freeing the now useless right
elevating plane!
It was a daring thing to do--a most perilous proceeding. But the older
men knew that it was the only thing that could prevent them from
plunging into the sea. So John threw open a window for his brother,
the nimblest one of them, gave his hand a parting squeeze, and Paul
climbed through.
Paul never had realized as he did now how smooth that rounded body of
the machine was, nor how strong the wind shot back along it when the
machine was in flight. Although he clutched it with both arms and
legs, and lay as close to it as he could press, he thought two or three
times, as he made his way out toward the tail, that he would be torn
loose. He knew that his friends in the cabin, whom it might be he
would never speak to again, were watching his progress with fear
gripping their hearts, and were probably inwardly praying for his
success with every breath.
Finally the boy reached the tail. He dare not look down at the sea to
see how much closer they were now, for the sight might unnerve him and
prove disastrous to his purpose. So, glazing his vision to all except
his environs and intent, he wrapped his legs around the narrowing body
of the machine, let go with his arms, and in a crouching posture seized
the tangled wires. Two or three tugs and he had them free. He
announced this fact with as loud a yell as he could.
Immediately afterward he heard his brother's voice. "Hang right there
where you are, Paul! Don't try to come back until we get elevation
again and I give you the word."
He realized what this meant and looked down as he once more wrapped his
arms around the fuselage, with his shoulders against the rudder
bracket. What he saw was the restless sea less than two hundred feet
below! Had Bob waited for him to attempt to crawl back into the cabin
with the tail elevated, the Sky-Bird would have buried herself in the
waters before he was half-way to his objective. They must now rise, if
that were possible, to a good height; then Bob would slowly spiral the
airplane downward and afford him a declining surface to work back upon.
Luckily Paul's freeing of the right elevating plane, gave the pilot
fairly good control over the machine, so Bob had no difficulty in
bringing the Sky-Bird into a rising swoop, although none too soon.
Mounting at a good angle, but one which would not be likely to displace
the youth clinging at the tail, he brought the airplane up to two
thousand feet.
"Now, Paul! Slide for it!" cried John, as the machine began a slow
descent in a great circle.
Paul then worked his way back like a crab, sliding a little, but not
once allowing his tensioned limbs to relax to the danger point. Before
the airplane had come within five hundred feet of the sea, he felt his
legs grasped in the strong hands of John and Tom, and the next moment
they had hauled him bodily through the window.
"Ginger, Buddy, that was a close call for us--and you, too!" exclaimed
John. "I hope I never see you in such a ticklish place again!"
Paul sank into a seat. He was too exhausted to do anything but smile.
When at last he could find his voice he asked, anxiously: "Can Bob
control her all right now?"
"Well enough to land us where we wish to go, he says," observed Tom.
"That's right," put in Bob himself, who had overheard the conversation.
"The Sky-Bird isn't what she was before that rock went through her, but
if nothing worse happens we'll reach Singapore, though it will probably
be somewhat later than our sweet friends in the other plane."
"We can land at Sumatra, I think, if we have to make repairs before,"
ventured John. "We ought to cross the northern end of that island in
the course of an hour."
Searching the horizon for their rivals, they saw that, evidently
satisfied with the mischief they had done, the _Clarion_ crew had gone
on at full speed, for they were now far ahead.
"If I ever run onto Pete Deveaux again I believe I shall be angry
enough to choke him till he's unable to speak his own name," declared
Paul.
"I'm afraid I'll have to help you at that job, Paul," cried Tom. "He's
the most unprincipled scoundrel that ever went unhung."
"You are right, Tom; Deveaux is a brute," said John. "His deviltry
came near being the end of us. When we get home, we must see to it
that he is punished as he deserves. But we must keep it out of the
papers now, as it will look, in case we get beat, as if we wanted an
excuse."
John and Tom now resumed their hammocks and broken sleep, for they saw
that, although the shattered tail elevator caused the Sky-Bird to ride
roughly and at reduced speed. Bob and Paul could probably handle her
all right from now on. The cross winds of the monsoon also hindered
their progress a good deal, blowing erratically from different
directions, but they plugged along at a pace slow enough to keep
themselves within the zone of safety.
A little later they came in sight of Sumatra, but as they were going
fairly well, thought it best not to attempt a landing for repairs. So
they crossed the northern tip of the island, and proceeded on over the
Strait of Malacca. Sometime since, Paul had taken Bob's place at the
throttle, and the latter had communicated with their destination by
wireless, learning that the other airplane had arrived.
It was twilight when they at last reached Singapore, and made a landing
in the race-course in the outskirts of the town. By long odds this was
the smallest island upon which they had so far stopped, but they found
the city one of the busiest. Their rivals had left fully two hours
before.
Now came the task of repairing the broken tail elevator. As the frame
was undamaged, it was only necessary to straighten out a few bent
supports and put new covering on. The British official at the field
showed them where to purchase the necessary silk and glue, also a good
waterproof varnish for coating the covering. From his own home he
secured a pair of scissors with which to do the cutting, and John and
Bob worked at the task, while Paul and Tom took on fuel and water and
looked after other preparations for resuming their journey as soon as
possible.
During this process, Grandpa the monkey was permitted to come out of
the cabin and entertain the crowd of onlookers with his antics, which
he did to perfection, as he had done at other stops. To the ivory ring
about his slender little waist, Paul always fastened a long thin rope,
which he had bought in Para, when he let Grandpa out. This leash
prevented him from wandering off, something nearly all unfettered
monkeys will do if not watched very closely by their masters. Almost
any place seems to be home to a monkey, and almost any man seems to
suit him for a temporary master.
Grandpa himself delighted in running out upon the wings of the Sky-Bird
at the stops. He pulled the control wires and made the ailerons swing
up and down, which always raised a laugh among the crowds. Another
favorite pastime with him was to post himself in front of the reflector
of the big searchlight up on the cabin, and make the most comical
grimaces at his image on the polished reflector inside, sometimes
uttering queer noises as if he were crying, and at other times
chattering with the utmost anger at the phantom monkey, mixing these
demonstrations up with wild dashes around behind the lamp to see if the
mimicking animal were there. No matter what language the natives of
each port might speak, they never failed to understand and appreciate
these little sideshow comedies of Grandpa's. And when it would become
noised about among them that this particular monkey had traveled all
the way from South America through the air with the "bird-men," their
awe for him was amusing to behold.