Tom Swift in the Caves of Ice
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Victor Appleton >> Tom Swift in the Caves of Ice
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But Tom and the others labored to such good advantage that in three
days they had repaired most of the damage done. Luckily the vandal
had cut and slashed in a hurry, and his malicious work was only half
accomplished. There was no clue to his identity.
No trace was seen of the Fogers, and Tom hardly expected it, for he
thought they were in Sitka by this time. Nor were any suspicious
persons seen hanging around the shed. The adventurers left their
rooms at the hotel, and took up their quarters in the airship that
would soon be their home for many days. They wanted to be where they
could watch the craft, and two guards were engaged.
"We'll start to-morrow," Tom announced gaily one evening when, after
a hard day's work the last of the damaged planes had been repaired.
"Start fer th' valley of gold?" asked the miner.
"Yes. Everything is in good shape now. I want to go into town, to
send some messages home, telling dad we'll soon be on our way, and I
also want to get a few things."
"Shall I come?" asked Ned.
"No, I'd rather you'd stay here," spoke Tom, in a low voice. "We
can't take any more chances of being delayed, and, as it's pretty
well known that we'll sail to-morrow, the Foger crowd may try some
more of their tricks. No, I'll go to town alone, Ned. I'll soon be
back, however. You stay here."
Both Tom came nearly never coming back. As he was returning from
sending the messages, and purchasing a few things he needed for the
trip, he passed through a dark street. He was walking along,
thinking of what the future might hold for him and his companions,
after they reached the caves of ice, when, just as he got to a high
board fence, surrounding some vacant lots, he heard some one whisper
hoarsely:
"Here he comes!"
The young inventor was on his guard instantly. He jumped back to
avoid a moving shadow, but was too late. Something struck him on the
back of his head, and he felt his senses leaving him. He struggled
against the feeling, and he realized, even in that exciting moment,
that the thick collar of his heavy overcoat, which he had turned up
because of a cold wind, had, perhaps, saved him from a broken skull.
"Hold him!" commanded another voice. "I'll go through him!"
The packages dropped from Tom's nerveless fingers. He felt himself
sinking down, in spite of his fierce determination not to succumb.
He felt several hands moving rapidly about his body, and then he
struck blindly out at the footpads.
CHAPTER XI
OFF FOR THE FROZEN NORTH
Tom Swift felt as if he was struggling in some dream or nightmare.
He felt strong hands holding him and saw evil faces leering at him.
Then gradually his brain cleared. His muscles, that had been
weakened by the cowardly blow, grew strong. He felt his fist land
heavily on some one's face. He heard a smothered gasp of pain.
Then came the sound of footsteps running--Tom heard the "ping" of a
policeman's night-stick on the sidewalk.
"Here come the cops!" he heard one voice exclaim.
"Did you get it?" asked another.
"No, I can't find it. Cut for it now!"
They released the young inventor so suddenly that he staggered about
and almost fell.
The next moment Tom was looking into the face of a big policeman,
who was half supporting him.
"What's the matter?" asked the officer.
"Hold-up, I guess," mumbled the lad. "There they go!" he pointed
toward two dark forms slipping along down the dimly-lighted street.
The officer drew his revolver, and fired two shots in the air, but
the fleeing figures did not stop.
"How did it happen?" asked the policeman. "Did they get anything
from you?"
"No--I guess not," answered Tom. He saw the packages containing his
purchases lying where they had fallen. A touch told him his watch
and pocketbook were safe. The precious map was in a belt about his
waist, and that had not been removed. "No, they didn't get
anything," he assured the officer.
"I came along too quick for 'em, I guess," spoke the bluecoat. "This
is a bad neighborhood. There have been several hold-ups here of
late, but I was on the job too soon for these fellows. Hello, Mike,"
as another officer came running up in answer to the shots and the
raps of the night-stick. "Couple of strong-arm-men tackled this
young fellow just now. I saw something going on as I turned the
corner, and I rapped and ran up. They went down that way. I fired at
'em. You take after 'em, Mike, and I'll stay here. Don't believe you
can land 'em, but try! I came up too quick to allow 'em to get
anything, though."
Tom did not contradict this. He knew, however, that, had the men who
attacked him wished to take his watch or money, they could have done
it several times before the officer arrived.
"It was the map they were after," thought Tom, "not my watch or
money. This is more of the Foger's work. We must get away from
here."
The policeman inquired for more particulars from Tom, who related
how the hold-up had taken place. The young inventor, however, said
nothing about the map he carried, letting the officer think it was
an ordinary attempt at robbery, for Tom did not want any reference
in the newspapers to his search for the valley of gold.
Presently the other policeman returned, having been unable to get
any trace of the daring men. The two bluecoats wanted to accompany
Tom back to the airship shed, for his own safety, but he declared
there was no more danger, and, after having given his name, so that
the affair might be reported at headquarters, he was allowed to go
on his way. His head ached from the blow, but otherwise he was
unhurt.
"Those fellows have been keeping watch for me," the lad reasoned, as
he walked quickly toward the airship shed. "They must have been
shadowing me, and they hid there until I came back. Andy Foger and
his father must be getting desperate. I think I know why, too. That
little dig I gave Andy about his map is bearing fruit. He begins to
think it's the wrong map, and he wants to get hold of the right one.
Well, they shan't if I can help it. We'll be away from here in the
morning."
There was indignation and some alarm among Tom's friends when he
told his story a little later that night.
"Bless my walking-stick!" cried Mr. Damon. "You'll need a bodyguard
after this."
"I'd just like t' git my hands on them fellers!" exclaimed the old
miner. "I'd show 'em!" and a look at his rugged frame and his
muscular arms and gnarled hands showed Tom and Ned that in the event
of a fight they could count much on Abe Abercrombie.
"I am glad there will be no more delays, and that we will soon be
moving northward," spoke Mr. Parker, a little later. "I am anxious
to confirm my theory about the advance of the ice crust, I met a man
to-day who had just returned from the north of Alaska. He said that
a severe winter had already set in up there. So I am anxious to get
to the ice caves."
"So am I," added Tom, but it was for a different reason.
They were all up early the next morning, for there were several
things to look after before they started on the trip that might
bring much of danger to the adventurers. Under Tom's direction, more
gas was generated, and forced into the big bag. A last adjustment
was made of the planes, wing tips and rudders, and the motor was
given a try-out.
"I guess everything is all right," announced the young inventor.
"We'll take her out."
The RED CLOUD was wheeled from the big shed, and placed on the open
lot, where she would have room to rush across the ground to acquire
momentum enough to rise in the air. Tom, whenever it was practical,
always mounted this way, rather than by means of the lifting gas,
as, in the event of a wind, he would have better control of the
ship, while it was ascending into the upper currents of air, than
when it was rising like a balloon.
"All aboard!" cried the lad, as he looked to see that the course was
clear. Early as it was, there was quite a crowd on hand to witness
the flight, as there had been every day of late, for the population
of Seattle was curious regarding the big craft of the air.
"Let her go!" cried Ned Newton, enthusiastically.
Tom took his place in the steering-tower, or pilothouse, which was
forward of the main cabin. Ned was in the engine-room, ready to give
any assistance if needed. Mr. Damon, Mr. Parker and Abe Abercrombie
were in the main cabin, looking out of the windows at the rapidly
increasing throng.
"Here we go!" cried the young inventor, as he pulled the lever
starting the motor, There was a buzz and a hum. The powerful
propellers whirred around like blurs of light. Forward shot the
great airship over the ground, gathering speed at every revolution
of the blades.
Tom tilted the forward rudder to lift the ship. Suddenly it shot
over the heads of the crowd. There was a cheer and some applause.
"Off for the frozen north!" cried Ned, waving his cap.
Tom shifted the rudder, to change the course of the airship. Mr.
Damon was gazing on the crowd below.
"Tom! Tom!" he cried suddenly. "There's the man with the black
mustache--the man who tried to rob you in the sleeping-car!" He
pointed downward to some one in the throng.
"He can't get us now!" exclaimed Tom, as he increased the speed of
the RED CLOUD, and then, taking up a telescope, after setting the
automatic steering gear, Tom pointed the glass at the person whom
Mr. Damon had indicated.
CHAPTER XII
PELTED BY HAILSTONES
"Yes, that's the man all right," observed the lad. "But if he came
here to have another try for the map, he's too late. I hope we don't
land now until we are in the valley of gold." Tom passed the
telescope to Ned, who confirmed the identification.
"Perhaps he came to see if we started, and then he'll report to Andy
Foger or his father by telegraph," suggested Mr. Damon.
"Perhaps," admitted Tom. "Anyhow, we're well rid of our enemies--at
least for a time. They can't follow us up in the air." He turned
another lever and the RED CLOUD shot forward at increased speed.
"Maybe Andy will race us," suggested Ned.
"I'm not afraid of anything his airship can do," declared Tom. "I
don't believe it will even get up off the ground, though he did make
a short flight before he packed up to follow us. It's a wonder he
wouldn't think of something himself, instead of trying to pattern
after some one else. He tried to beat me in building a speeding
automobile, and now he wants to get ahead of me in an airship. Well,
let him try. I'll beat him out, just as I've done before."
They were now over the outskirts of Seattle, flying along about a
thousand feet high, and they could dimly make out curious crowds
gazing up at them. The throng that had been around the airship shed
had disappeared from view behind a little hill, and, of course, the
man with the black mustache was no longer visible, but Tom felt as
if his sinister eyes were still gazing upward, seeking to discern
the occupants of the airship.
"We're well on our way now," observed Ned, after a while, during
which interval he and Tom had inspected the machinery, and found it
working satisfactorily.
"Yes, and the RED CLOUD is doing better than she ever did before,"
said Tom. "I think it did her good to take her apart and put her
together again. It sort of freshened her up. This machine is my
special pride. I hope nothing happens to her on this journey to the
caves of ice."
"If my theory is borne out, we will have to be careful not to get
caught in the crush of ice, as it makes its way toward the south,"
spoke Mr. Parker with an air as if he almost wished such a thing to
happen, that he might be vindicated.
"Oh, we'll take good care that the RED CLOUD isn't nipped between
two bergs," Tom declared.
But he little knew of the dire fate that was to overtake the RED
CLOUD, and how close a call they were to have for their very lives.
"No matter what care you exercise, you cannot overcome the awful
power of the grinding ice," declared the gloomy scientist. "I
predict that we will see most wonderful and terrifying sights."
"Bless my hatband!" cried Mr. Damon, "don't say such dreadful
things, Parker my dear man! Be more cheerful; can't you?"
"Science cannot be cheerful when foretelling events of a dire
nature," was the response. "I would not do my duty if I did not hold
to my theories."
"Well, just hold to them a little more closely," suggested Mr.
Damon. "Don't tell them to us so often, and have them get on our
nerves, Parker, my dear man. Bless my nail-file! be more cheerful.
And that reminds me, when are we going to have dinner, Tom?"
"Whenever you want it, Mr. Damon. Are you going to act as cook
again?"
"I think I will, and I'll just go to the galley now, and see about
getting a meal. It will take my mind off the dreadful things Mr.
Parker says."
But if the gloomy scientific man heard this little "dig" he did not
respond to it. He was busy jotting down figures on a piece of paper,
multiplying and dividing them to get at some result in a complicated
problem he was working on, regarding the power of an iceberg in
proportion to its size, to exert a lateral pressure when sliding
down a grade of fifteen per cent.
Mr. Damon got an early dinner, as they had breakfasted almost at
dawn that morning, in order to get a good start. The meal was much
enjoyed, and to Abe Abercrombie was quite a novelty, for he had
never before partaken of food so high up in the air, the barograph
of the RED CLOUD showing an elevation of a little over twelve
thousand feet.
"It's certainly great," the old miner observed, as he looked down
toward the earth below them, stretched out like some great relief
map. "It sure is wonderful an' some scrumptious! I never thought I'd
be ridin' one of these critters. But they're th' only thing t' git
t' this hidden valley with. We might prospect around for a year, and
be driven back by the Indians and Eskimos a dozen times. But with
this we can go over their heads, and get all the gold we want."
"Is there enough to give every one all he wants?" asked Tom, with a
quizzical smile. "I don't know that I ever had enough."
"Me either," added Ned Newton.
"Oh, there's lots of gold there," declared the old miner. "The thing
to do is to get it and we can sure do that now."
The remainder of the day passed uneventfully, though Tom cast
anxious looks at the weather as night set in, and Ned, noting his
chum's uneasiness, asked:
"Worrying about anything, Tom?"
"Yes, I am," was the reply. "I think we're in for a hard storm, and
I don't know just how the airship will behave up in these northern
regions. It's getting much colder, and the gas in the bag is
condensing more than I thought it would. I will have to increase our
speed to keep us moving along at this elevation."
The motor was adjusted to give more power, and, having set it so
that it, as well as the rudders, would be controlled automatically,
Tom rejoined his companions in the main cabin, where, as night
settled down, they gathered to eat the evening meal.
Through the night the great airship plowed her way. At times Tom
arose to look at some of the recording instruments. It was growing
colder, and this further reduced the volume of the gas, but as the
speed of the ship was sufficient to send her along, sustained by the
planes and wings alone, if necessary, the young inventor did not
worry much.
Morning broke gray and cheerless. A few flakes of snow fell. There
was every indication of a heavy storm. They were high above a
desolate and wild country now, hovering over a sparsely settled
region where they could see great forests, stretches of snow-covered
rocks, and towering mountain crags.
The snow, which had been lazily falling, suddenly ceased. Tom looked
out in surprise. A moment later there came a sound as if some giant
fingers were beating a tattoo on the roof of the main cabin.
"What's that!" cried Ned.
"Bless my umbrella! has anything happened?" demanded Mr. Damon.
"It's a hail storm!" exclaimed Tom. "We've run into a big hail
storm. Look at those frozen stones! They're as big as hens' eggs!"
On a little platform in front of the steering-house could be seen
falling immense hailstones. They played a tattoo on the wooden
planks.
"A hail storm! Bless my overshoes!" cried Mr. Damon.
"A hail storm!" echoed Mr. Parker. "I expected we would have one.
The hailstones will become even larger than this!"
"Cheerful," remarked Tom in a low voice, with an apprehensive look
at Ned.
"Is there any danger?" asked his chum.
"Danger? Plenty of it," replied the young inventor. "The frozen
particles may rip open the gas bag. "He stopped suddenly and looked
at a gage on the wall of the steering-tower--a gage that showed the
gas pressure.
"One compartment of the bag has been ripped open!" cried Tom. "The
vapor is escaping! The whole bag may soon be torn apart!"
The noise of the pelting hailstones increased. The roar of the
storm, the bombardment of the icy globules, and the moaning of the
wind struck terror to the hearts of the gold-seekers.
"What's to be done?" yelled Ned.
"We must go up, to get above the storm, or else descend and find
some shelter!" answered Tom. "I'll first see if I can send the ship
up above the clouds!"
He increased the speed of the motor so that the propellers would aid
in taking the ship higher up, while the gas-generating machine was
set in operation to pour the lifting vapor into the big bag.
CHAPTER XIII
A FRIGHTENED INDIAN
The violence of the hail storm, the clatter of the frozen pellets as
they bombarded the airship, the rolling, swaying motion of the craft
as Tom endeavored to send it aloft, all combined to throw the
passengers of the RED CLOUD into a state of panic.
"Bless my very existence!" cried Mr. Damon, "this is almost as bad
as when we were caught in the hurricane at Earthquake Island!"
"I am sure that this storm is but the forerunner of some dire
calamity!" declared Mr. Parker.
"I'm afraid it's all up with us," came from Abe Abercrombie, as he
looked about for some way of escape.
"Do you think you can pull us through, Tom?" asked Ned Newton, who,
not having had much experience in airships had yet to learn Tom's
skill in manipulating them.
The young inventor alone seemed to keep his nerve. Coolly and calmly
he stood at his post of duty, shifting the wing planes from moment
to moment, managing the elevation rudder, and, at the same time,
keeping his eye on the registering dial of the gas-generating
machine.
"It's all right," said Tom, more easily than he felt. "We are going
up slowly. You might see if you can induce the gas machine to do any
better, Mr. Damon. We are wasting some of the vapor because of the
leak in the bag, but we can manufacture it faster than it escapes,
so I guess we'll be all right."
"Mr. Parker, may I ask you to oil the main motor? You will see the
places marked where the oil is to go in. Ned, you help him. Here,
Abe, come over here and give me a hand. This wind makes the rudders
hard to twist."
The young inventor could not have chosen a better method of
relieving the fears of his friends than by giving them something to
do to take their minds off their own troubles. They hurried to the
tasks he had assigned to them, and, in a few minutes, there were no
more doubts expressed.
Not that the RED CLOUD was out of danger, Far from it. The storm was
increasing in violence, and the hailstones seemed to double in
number. Then, too, being forced upward as she was, the airship's bag
was pelted all the harder, for the speed of the craft, added to the
velocity of the falling chunks of hail, made them strike on the
surface of the ship with greater violence.
Tom was anxiously watching the barograph, to note their height. The
RED CLOUD was now about two and a half miles high, and slowly
mounting upward. The gas machine was working to its fullest
capacity, and the fact that they did not rise more quickly told Tom,
more plainly than words could have done, that there were several
additional leaks in the gas-bag.
"I'll take her up another thousand feet," he announced grimly.
"Then, if we're not above the storm it will be useless to go
higher."
"Why?" asked Ned, who had come back to stand beside his chum.
"Because we can't possibly get above the storm without tearing the
ship to pieces. I had rather descend."
"But won't that be just as bad?"
"Not necessarily. There are often storms in the upper regions which
do not get down to the surface of the earth, snow and hail storms
particularly. Hail, you know, is supposed to be formed by drops of
rain being hurled up and down in a sort of circular, spiral motion
through alternate strata of air--first freezing and then warm, which
accounts for the onion-like layers seen when a hailstone is cut in
half."
"That is right," broke in Mr. Parker, who was listening to the young
inventor. "By going down this hail storm may change into a harmless
rain storm. But, in spite of that fact, we are in a dangerous
climate, where we must expect all sorts of queer happenings."
"Nice, comfortable sort of a companion to have along on a gold-
hunting expedition, isn't He?" asked Tom of Ned, making a wry face
as Mr. Parker moved away. "But I haven't any time to think of that.
Say, this is getting fierce!"
Well might he say so. The wind had further increased in violence,
and while the storm of hailstones seemed to be about the same, the
missiles had nearly doubled in size.
"Better go down," advised Ned. "We may fall if you don't."
"Guess I will," assented Tom. "There's no use going higher. I doubt
if I could, anyhow, with all this wind pressure, and with the gas-
bag leaking. Down she is!"
As he spoke he shifted the levers, and changed the valve wheels. In
an instant the RED CLOUD began to shoot toward the earth.
"What's happened? What in th' name of Bloody Gulch are we up
ag'in'?" demanded the old miner, springing to his feet.
"We're going down--that's all," answered Tom, calmly, but he was far
from feeling that way, and he had grave fears for the safety of
himself and his companions.
Down, down, down went the RED CLOUD, in the midst of the hail storm.
But if the gold-seekers had hoped to escape the pelting of the
frozen globules they were mistaken. The stones still seemed to
increase in size and number. The gas machine register showed a
sudden lack of pressure, not due to the shutting off of the
apparatus.
"Look!" cried Ned, pointing to the dial.
"Yes--more punctures," said Tom, grimly.
"What's to be done?" asked Mr. Damon, who had finished the task Tom
allotted to him. "Bless my handkerchief! what's to be done?"
"Seek shelter if the storm doesn't stop when we get to the earth
level," answered Tom.
"Shelter? What sort of shelter? There are no airship sheds in this
desolate region."
"I may be able to send the ship under some overhanging mountain
crag," answered the young inventor, "and that will keep off the
hailstones."
Eagerly Tom and Ned, who stood together in the pilothouse peered
forward through the storm.
The wind was less violent now that they were in the lower currents
of air, but the hail had not ceased.
Suddenly Tom gave a cry. Ned looked at him anxiously. Had some new
calamity befallen them? But Tom's voice sounded more in relief than
in alarm. The next instant he called:
"Look ahead there, Ned, and tell me what you see."
"I see something big and black," answered the other lad, after a
moment's hesitation. "Why, it's a big black hole!" he added.
"That's what I made it out to be," went on Tom, "but I wanted to be
sure. It's the opening to a cave or hole in the side of the
mountain. I take it."
"You're right," agreed Ned.
"Then we're safe," declared Tom.
"Safe? How?"
"I'm going to take the RED CLOUD in there out of the storm."
"Can you do it? Is the opening big enough?"
"Plenty. It's larger than my shed at home, Jove! but I'm glad I saw
that in time, or there would have been nothing left of the gas-bag!"
With skilful hands Tom turned the rudders and sent the airship down
on a slant toward the earth, aiming for the entrance to the cave,
which loomed up in the storm. When the craft was low enough down so
that the superstructure would not scrape the top of the cave, Tom
sent her ahead on the level. But he need have had no fears, for the
hole was large enough to have admitted a craft twice the size of the
RED CLOUD.
A few minutes later the airship slid inside the great cavern, as
easily as if coming to rest in the yard of Tom's house. The roof of
the cave was high over their heads, and they were safe from the
storm. The cessation from the deafening sound of the pelting
hailstones seemed curious to them at first.
"Well, bless my shoelaces! if this isn't luck!" cried Mr. Damon, as
he opened the door of the cabin, and looked about the cave in which
they now found themselves. It was comparatively light, for the
entrance was very large, though the rear of the cavern was in gloom.
"Yes, indeed, we got to it just in time,'" agreed Tom. "Now let's
see what sort of a place it is. We'll have to explore it."
"There may be a landslide, or the roof may come down on our heads,"
objected Mr. Parker.
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