ENGULFED IN A VOLCANO'S DUST
With three hundred gallons of gasoline in her tanks, and her broken
tail-elevator well repaired, the Sky-Bird was ready at eleven o'clock
that evening to take off. Her crew were all tired out, but they knew
they would soon be able to occupy the comfortable seats or hammocks in
the cabin for another long stretch of over-sea travel, for it would be
morning before they would reach Port Darwin, Australia, their next stop.
It had been raining very hard in Singapore just before they arrived,
and the field was quite wet, with many puddles in the low spots.
Through one or two of these they had had to run in landing, and it
seemed that in hopping off they would be forced to do so again.
Fortunately the ground was sandy, so they had come to a stop in a spot
not at all muddy, and had thus been able to work upon the machine
without the discomforts of wading in slime while doing it.
They now started the engine, Tom climbed in, and they were off, running
over the soft ground at increasing speed. Then the airplane struck a
pool of water, five or six inches deep, which almost pulled them up.
It also held them back so that when the machine emerged it was going
very little faster than at the beginning. The next patch of ground was
a little longer, but they had not risen when they struck it at a rate
of about twenty-five miles an hour.
This pool was also quite deep, and the sudden resistance almost threw
the Sky-Bird onto her nose. It did cause her to dip so that her long
propeller struck the puddle, and immediately water and sand were sucked
up and thrown in almost every direction by the swiftly revolving
blades. Much of it reached the natives, who in two long rows of
curious humanity, formed a lane for the passage of the craft, and many
a poor fellow gave a howl and fell back against those behind,
spluttering and rubbing grit and water from his face, while rivulets
coursed down his dusky body amid the howls of laughter of his mates.
The flyers had only a fleeting glimpse of this amusing incident before
they found the front windows of the cabin so covered with the deluge of
spray that they could scarcely see ahead. Two of them quickly opened
the portals, for a grave danger menaced them.
Less than sixty yards ahead was the lower fence of the field, and just
back of this arose scrub trees and houses, with no opening between
which could be utilized. They must clear these formidable obstacles,
looming bigger every second, and the distance was alarmingly short, for
the last pool had again retarded their momentum to such an extent that
they had just barely staggered through it.
Picking up speed once more at every turn of her propeller, the Sky-Bird
shot down the last stretch of ground reaching to the fence. How fast
this obstruction loomed up! Just in the nick of time the airplane left
the ground. They sailed over the tops of trees and houses so close
that the wheels of their landing-gear almost scraped. It was one of
the finest maneuvers of the whole voyage, and the boys praised John so
for his good piloting that he had to ask them to desist.
After a wide sweep above Singapore, they headed for the open water,
which in this case happened to be South China Sea.
The weather was very threatening. Dark-looking clouds began to efface
the moon and stars, whose light had aided in the take-off at Singapore,
and within fifteen minutes occasional flashes of sheet-lightning could
be seen far ahead, throwing into relief the immense bulk of the
foreboding clouds and shedding a pallid gleam over the sea.
Occasionally a light zephyr came out of the east, but it would last
only a moment.
"We ought to be just about over the equator now," announced John a
little later.
Paul and Bob had stayed up on purpose to witness this event, and by
dead reckoning had computed their position so closely that John's
announcement had come just as they were about to make a similar
statement. Although they could see no "line" stretching along down
there in the sea, they fancied they could, with the most pleasant
imagery. That great line, the belt of the universe, dividing the
Northern and Southern hemispheres, they had already crossed once, in
their zigzagging course, at the mouth of the Amazon. Now here in the
South China Sea they were crossing it a second time. At no time had
they been more than thirteen degrees away from it. One more crossing
of it, if all went well, and they would be almost within sight of the
end of their journey--Panama!
With this pleasant thought Bob and Paul rolled up in their hammocks,
trusting John and Tom to bring them safely through the bad weather that
seemed in store, and were soon asleep.
To the two older flyers, used to all conditions of aerial passage as a
result of several years' experience, the present conditions were not at
all terrifying. Although the spectacle of the dark clouds in front of
them was extremely uncanny, they realized that they were only local
thunder showers which could probably be avoided by a little careful
navigating.
In this they were right. By wheeling a little out of their course, to
the left or right, and by flying up over one big cloud which could not
be avoided in any other manner, they managed to dodge the most
dangerous fields of lightning and the worst torrents of rain.
Presently they left the dark clouds far behind, and once more the stars
appeared in the blue firmament above and the pale moon lit up the
tropical sea.
With relief John guided the Sky-Bird lower, so that they could keep a
sharp lookout for guide-posts of land. They passed several small
islets which were uncharted with them, but when, about midnight, they
made out a great black blotch not far ahead, they recognized it as the
southern end of the island of Borneo, and knew they were all right.
In a little while Borneo was sweeping along below them, its mangroved
shores gloomy and desolate-looking, not to say weird, in the pale
moonlight. Among those dense forests and thickets the flyers knew many
a wild animal was prowling at that very moment, and in the thatched
huts in the glens slept many a fierce-visaged savage with weapons close
at hand.
Toward morning the flyers observed a volcano in active eruption off to
the southeastward, apparently on the island of Timor. It was a
beautiful sight, so wonderful that John awoke the sleepers, that they
too might enjoy it. Fantastic lights of various colors shot upward
from the crater. These shafts lit up billowing clouds of smoke and
ashes, which poured out in awe-inspiring volume. Back of it all stood
the dark-blue velvet sky, against which the pyrotechnics were embossed
in a stunning manner. Man could never have wished to witness a more
remarkable manifestation of nature than did the young aviators, as they
viewed the spectacle from their own favored position in the air.
Swiftly the Sky-Bird drew them toward the volcano, for it was directly
in their course. As they approached, they could see flames licking
their way upward from the dark mass of rock constituting the shaft, and
could make out streams of lava pouring over the sides of the crater,
going down into the unknown blackness below. What a sight it was! How
their pulses beat! How their hearts quickened!
But now, very unexpectedly, the sight was shut out. Thin, pungent,
volcanic smoke and ash began to surround them. In a few moments it was
so thick that they grew alarmed. All had the same fearful thought--
If this should continue a little while, they would lose their bearings,
and might run right into the fountain of fire itself!
This was a terrifying possibility, for it would mean a horrible death
to every one of them. Fireproof though the airplane was in the general
sense of the word, every one of those in her cabin knew that if they
should ever pass through those licking flames, the great heat in them
would fairly melt the light structure of the machine in the twinkling
of an eye. No metal or wood could withstand that terrible blast a
moment, much less human flesh.
It is small wonder, therefore, that Tom now sent the Sky-Bird off to
the right, and higher, also. They closed the windows, to keep out the
foul smells, and anxiously awaited developments. They could not see a
yard in front of them, so thick were the smoke and gases. It was a
trying time.
Fortunately Tom had taken the best course he could. Five minutes
passed--ten minutes--fifteen--and then the air began to clear. Slowly
the curtain lifted; and presently looking back, they saw that they had
passed the volcano and were leaving it and the island well behind.
Its fires, too, seemed to be burning out. Only a few forks of ghostly
light were coming up from the crater. These grew fainter and fainter,
and in a little while the eruption seemed to have entirely subsided,
for Timor was swallowed up once more in the impenetrable mantle of
night.