CHAPTER X
BANZAI!
As the mountains flattened out, the ragged plains seemed to stretch ininconceivable distances. Dense uncharted forests blanketed the land. Twoforest fires were raging in this district, about fifty miles apart.Heavy masses of smoke hung over them, or were torn into shreds andhurried away by the high wind. Bursts of flames reddened the smoke, andlicked greedily upward.
When Dulcie went to bed, she experienced the ever-recurring thrill tofind herself in a luxurious stateroom, far above the earth. The rarefiedclean air made her body tingle. Dulcie thought shudderingly of hernarrow escape from being left behind.
"It only goes to show," she told herself, "that occasionally one has toact."
The following morning, Wednesday, after breakfast, Doctor Trigg andDoctor Sims stood gazing at the waste below them. "Endless, aridplains," said Dr. Trigg. "Russia--Siberia--the steppes--"
"I wonder just where we are," said Dulcie, suddenly bobbing up at thewindow under Doctor Sims' arm. He removed the arm.
"I believe we are about seven hundred and fifty miles west of Yakutsk,"said Mr. Hamilton, speaking from his usual place at the desk.
"Is that a city?" asked Dulcie.
"Yakutsk," said Doctor Trigg, "is the principal city of the Lena GoldFields, and lies over the Stanovoi Range, toward the western end of theSea of Okhotsk. In this part of Siberia lie the vast gold fields knownas the Russian Klondike. They produce, with incredible hardship andlabor, over two hundred million rubles annually. A ruble," he added,rolling an affectionate and whimsical eye at Dulcie, "is at presentworth--hum--let me think--"
"About fifty cents," said Mr. Hamilton promptly.
"Yes," continued Doctor Trigg. "This bleak and terrible country,stretching on, desolate league after desolate league, has beenunofficially the death chamber of thousands of political and criminalprisoners every year. Herded together, the lowest and highest, inhorrible proximity, sometimes in chains, the poor wretches are sent herefrom civilization to work the mines for a ruthless State, to labor,suffer, and die. Often the keenest, cleverest intellectual, whose onlycrime was a chance word, misstated by some jealous contemporary, ischain-mate to the vilest wretch crawling. No redress, no pardon. Thepoet Shelley pictures Prometheus chained to a rock, the fox gnawing athis vitals, and Prometheus groans,
'No rest, no change, no hope; Yet I endure.'"
"Yes, conditions are said to be pretty bad," mused Mr. Hamilton. "Andthis is called the storehouse of the world."
"True," said Doctor Trigg. "The mountains contain not only gold, copperand iron, but ninety-five per cent of all the platinum in the world. Foryou, little Dulcie, and for millions like you, for that delicate chainon your neck, and that pretty ring."
"Costly enough," added Doctor Sims gloomily.
"There are jewels to hang on your platinum chains, too. Stores oftourmalines, chrysoberyls, and lovely pale aquamarines hide in theUrals."
"And the endless trickle of bloodstained gold and gems seeps slowly out,year after year and generation after generation, to trick and beautifyand amuse the world," said Doctor Sims. "Gr-r-r-r-r!"
"History repeats itself forever," said Mr. Hamilton.
"There are other riches, too," Doctor Trigg went on. "North of us, as Imake out our present position, lie vast deposits of unmined oil. Wholelakes of it have escaped from the earth, and have spread over acres ofsodden ground."
"Hmmm," said Wally. "Something ought to be done about that, if it's so."
"It is not officially substantiated," said Doctor Trigg, "but an oldstudent of mine, who turned out to be a globe-trotter, told me that hehad actually seen several of those lakes of oil. He said they were aremarkable sight. He made various tests, and reported that the oil inSiberia seems practically limitless."
"Well, we will need that oil some day," said Mr. Hamilton. "Question is,what will we have to pay for it?"
"Gr-r-r-r-r," said Doctor Sims. "Before that time comes, the face ofcivilization will have assumed some new grimace, and the question willanswer itself."
"Well, it's a perfectly horrid country," declared Dulcie.
"Yes, yet lonely and savage and remote as it is, it has contrived topaint a few garish pictures on the page of time. Look at the GobiDesert, far south of us. Read of Marco Polo's journeys there; histerrific adventures, about the year 1272, when--"
"Marco Polo," interrupted Doctor Sims. "Why go back to Marco Polo forinterest? Think of our own Roy Chapman Andrews, and what he hasdiscovered there. Think of those dinosaur eggs! The Peking Man!"
"I read about those," said Dulcie brightly. "But do you know what wehave done? We have talked and talked all morning. Here comes luncheon.Oh, Doctor Trigg, you simply know everything!"
"Gar--yah!" said Doctor Sims, cryptically.
Doctor Trigg looked at him over his glasses.
"I should know almost everything, my dear," he agreed. "You see, I havebeen closely associated with Doctor Sims here for forty years, andhaving a retentive memory, I have been able to collect and assimilate avast amount of information."
"Chops," said Doctor Sims to the waiter.
The wind was lessening, and the Moonbeam was steadily picking up speed.At seven o'clock that evening they passed within thirty miles ofYakutsk, lying toward the southwest. The evening went gaily. Dulciebrought out her mandolin, and the youngest reporter confessed to aguitar. There was singing, too, and Doctor Trigg surprised everyone witha knowledge of the words of about every college song ever written. Hesang them, too, in a lusty, wabbly old voice, happily oblivious ofDoctor Sims' "Ha's," "Humphs" and "Gr-r-r-r-rs."
At two the next morning, Thursday, they reached the Port of Ayan, on theSea of Okhotsk. They had safely gained the eastern coast of Asia. Atbreakfast that morning, Mr. Hammond was elated.
"We have made up all the time we lost in the storm over the Atlantic, inspite of the winds over the Urals," he exclaimed. "We will surely make alot crossing the Pacific--eight hours, at least, if we have goodweather, and another two crossing the United States will put us inLakehurst eight hours ahead of the flying time of the Graf Zeppelin."
David shook his head.
"I hate to have the chief set his heart on such a record," he said toRed, as they later went forward to the control room. "You know we won'thave that much luck."
"If we do, it sure will be luck," said Red, skeptically.
The passengers seemed rather glad to leave the trans-Siberian part ofthe flight behind them, although it had been a wonderful experience.
When Dulcie succeeded in cornering her father, she declared that Daviewas growing very thin. She rebuked her parent for the amount ofresponsibility he had placed on David's shoulders. Finally he replied:
"Look here, little gadfly, if you will stop buzzing for a while, I willexplain my methods. This young David Ellison is rather better than theaverage, ('Much,' said Dulcie.) and he has a good mind; an excellentmind. ('A perfectly wonderful mind,' muttered Dulcie.) He's a splendidtype of the young American, ('Um,' said Dulcie.) and I want to see if hehas the stuff in him that I think he has. If it's there, Dulcie, I meanto give him a helping hand."
"Atta boy, daddy!" cried Dulcie. "He has got brains. Has he saidanything to you about the invention he is working on?"
"Not a word; what is it?"
"He doesn't want anyone to know about it, and I'm not to breathe a wordeven to you, but it is something about something to fasten on theengines that will make them do something or other a great deal betterthan they are doing it now, and all that. It is marvelously important,and I'm not to mention it to a soul."
"I wouldn't. Some unscrupulous person, hearing you talk about it, mightjot the whole thing down and get a patent on it. In the meantime, to goback, I won't be able to find out what stuff he's made of unless I workhim like the devil. So keep your finger out of this pie, Miss Hammond.The young man is not your type, anyhow."
&n
bsp; "What is my type, then?" asked Dulcie, curiously.
"Well, there's Cram."
"Daddy," cried Dulcie, stamping, "I can't bear the sight of him!"
"Can't bear--well, what were you doing the other night when I came in tothe salon, and found you at that corner table, holding his hand, andCram smirking and blinking at you like a hound pup?"
Dulcie giggled. "I was reading his palm. I told him he would have a verydistinguished career, and would probably fill some high public office. Isaid I thought he would be an ambassador."
"Ambassador, my eye!" he growled. "What do you do it for, anyway,Dulcie, smearing it on like that?"
"They expect it. If you don't kid 'em along they don't know how to talkat all."
"Well, we will hope for the best," said Mr. Hammond, and added, as heleft her, "Go vamp Doctor Sims. If you can get one real compliment outof him before we reach Ayre, I'll buy you a new roadster."
"Darling!" cried Dulcie, making a dash for her parent. But he shut thedoor hastily, and was gone.
Mr. Hammond went to the chart room, studied the maps, then joined Davidin the control room.
"Well, it won't be long now, before we are over Japan," he remarked. "Wewill probably spend two days there at the airport, for a goodoverhauling."
"There are some recent radiograms in that clip, commander. I see thatthey are planning a regular blow-out for us."
Mr. Hammond commenced looking over the pile of radiograms which Davidhad indicated.
"Well, well!" he exclaimed. "They have arranged for six expert engineersto meet us and take care of the ship. Two Americans, two Germans, andtwo Japanese. That is certainly doing things up right. And there is aground crew of five hundred Japanese sailors, specially trained. Justwhat they did for the Graf Zeppelin. They want to know just when toexpect us. Here are advance greetings from all their princes, highestranking army and navy officers, and state officials." He sighed. "Well,captain, it does look like a big reception."
There was a thrill of excitement on the ship. Everyone was conscious ofit. After the days spent crossing Siberia, the thought of disembarkationin beautiful, alluring Japan was delightful. The reporters clicked theirlittle portables in a chorus which sounded like hail. There was muchjoking and laughter. Doctor Trigg practiced sentences out of aJapanese-English phrase book. Doctor Sims, who had once been in Tokio,knew of an obscure little burial-place that he meant to visit.
At three-thirty o'clock, on Thursday afternoon, they passed overMororan, on the island of Kokkaiddo, Japan. They were now only fivehundred and fifty miles from Tokio.
While the Moonbeam sped toward the city, her five engines roaring outtheir rhythmic chorus, there was bustle and excitement in Tokio. Anothergreat ship, larger by far than the Graf Zeppelin, was to be the guest ofJapan. The city was in gala dress. From the highest official, dignifiedand unapproachable, down to the tiniest little Geisha girl, chatteringbehind her fan, the population of Tokio united in a charming spirit ofwelcome. Every hotel in the city was crowded with tourists, come to seethe ship. The veteran Commander of Communications, with Mr. Hammond'smessage of acceptance of the entertainments planned by the cityofficers, proceeded with his elaborate arrangements. Special trainswaited at the Tokio station to transport the two thousand invited gueststo the naval landing field at Kasumigaura, about forty miles northwestof the city, where an arm of the Pacific forms placid lagoons.
Every hour special weather reports were wirelessed to the ship, whilesix seaplanes were ordered to meet her at sea and escort her in. Thegreat hangar had been cleared for the reception of the visitor, theJapanese ships being transferred to another location.
Kasumigaura was not housing an American ship for the first time. It hadbeen used on a previous successful round-the-world flight of three armyplanes in 1924, but the American aviators had flown in the oppositedirection, with a more southerly general course.
All Thursday morning a distinguished group of Japanese watched the fivehundred bluejackets who comprised the special ground crew as theyrehearsed for their coming task. There was the admiral, the minister ofthe navy, the vice admiral, and, besides, two princes of the reigninghouse. The ground crew used the largest of the Japanese dirigibles fortheir maneuvers.
The weather was hot, but beautiful and clear. All nature seemed inleague to show Japan at its loveliest. At Tokio, as the morning passed,thousands of tireless eyes searched the sky for the first sight of theirsplendid visitor. Afternoon came, and dragged by, and still the massesof people watched and listened for the siren which was to sound thetidings of her arrival. Newsboys swarmed everywhere, with extrascontaining the latest reports of the ship's location.
Evening came. Nine o'clock; fifteen minutes past; and then--three longblasts from the city's sirens sent men, women and children rushing forvantage points. Traffic came spontaneously to an end.
She had come; the silver ship, the Moonbeam! Her engines roaring, hersilver gray sides gleaming in the searchlights, she appeared suddenly asshe dropped through a floor of mist, and hung so low over the city thatit was easy to see the passengers crowded at the windows of the cabin.The usual calm of the Japanese disappeared, and wild shouts of"_Banzai!_" rent the air. Handkerchiefs waved madly.
The Moonbeam hung low over the city, as though waiting to receive thehomage due her. Then graciously she circled, and crossing the center ofthe city, sailed across to Yokohama, where she saluted the outgoingsteamers which were awaiting her there.
Then she turned in the direction of Kasumigaura. Reaching the port, shemade a wide circle, her attendant seaplanes following, then descended.The ground crew rushed to their places, and with perfect precision theMoonbeam was drawn down and secured.
The crowd, composed of many nationalities, became wildly excited. Thenoise continued while the passengers disembarked. Mr. Hammond and Davidwere immediately surrounded by a group of bemedalled and gold-lacedofficials. Their luggage was put in cars which were to take them toTokio, where rooms were reserved for all the passengers and officers atthe Imperial Hotel. Dulcie clung close to Doctor Trigg, with Red Ryan asa bulwark on the other side, and Cram close in the rear. Soldiers andpolicemen tried to hold back the masses of people who seemed to gatherin increasing numbers. Repeatedly the laughing, chattering mobs brokethrough the cordons, only to be pressed back.
A large automobile swept up to Dulcie and her escorts, and a Japaneseofficer motioned that they were to enter. When they were comfortablyseated, and the door shut, the smiling Oriental bowed and the car rolledsmoothly away in the direction of Tokio.
The great yellow moon came lazily out of the sea, and lanterns twinkledmerrily as they sped along.
"Well, Lafayette, here we are!" said Dulcie, leaning back on theluxurious cushions. "This is certainly a dandy car. Red, I feel a grandgood time coming on."
"You betcha, Miss Hammond!"
"I don't like these Japs," said Wally, turning around on the front seat,where he sat beside the chauffeur. "They are two-faced, andundependable. Wouldn't trust one an inch."
"Keep still!" Dulcie cried imperiously. "That man may speak English.Anyway, I don't believe one word of it."
Wally subsided into sulky silence. The little man at the wheel did notflicker an eyelid. Dulcie decided that he had not understood.
"Did you notice the charming little incident back there when our friendclosed the door?" asked Doctor Trigg delightedly. "Knowledge is indeedpower!" He tapped the little Japanese-English phrase book in his hand."I had the pleasure of speaking to the young man in his native tongue. Iwish you had noticed the surprise and interest depicted on hiscountenance. He seemed scarcely able to believe his ears. I am rather anold man to attempt the mastery of a new tongue."
"What did you say, doctor?" asked Dulcie.
He stared uncertainly at the little book.
"I would refresh my memory, but the light is so bad. Can you read it? Itis the first line on the left-hand page."
Dulcie snapped on the dome light, and looked. She could well imagine the
amazement of the young Japanese!
"You have stolen the rice of my honorable father," was the translationbeneath the phonetic pronunciation. She closed the book hastily.
"I think you are just too smart for words, doctor," she said.