CHAPTER XI
A STORM AT SEA
Tom had the choice of two routes in making his voyage to far-offSiberia. He could have crossed the United States, sailed over thePacific ocean, and approached the land of the Czar from the westerncoast above Manchuria. But he preferred to take the Atlantic route,crossing Europe, and so sailing over Russia proper to get to hisdestination. There were several reasons for this.
The water voyage was somewhat shorter, and this was an importantconsideration when there was no telling when he might have an accidentthat would compel him to descend. On the Atlantic he knew there wouldbe more ships to render assistance if it was needed, although he hopedhe would not have to ask for it.
"Then, too," he said to Ned, when they were discussing the matter, "wewill have a chance to see some civilized countries if we cross Europe,and we may land near Paris."
"Paris!" cried Ned. "What for?"
"To renew our supply of gasolene, for one thing," replied the younginventor. "Not that we will be out when we arrive, but if we take onmore there we may not have to get any in Russia. Besides, they have avery good quality in France, so all told, I think the route over Europeto be the best."
Ned agreed with him, and so did Mr. Petrofsky. As for Mr. Damon, he wasso busy getting his sleeping room in order, and blessing everything hecould think of, that he did not have time to talk much. So the easternroute was decided on, and as the big airship, carrying our friends,their supplies, and the wonderful air glider rose higher and higher,Tom gradually brought her around so that the pointed nose of the gasbag aimed straight across the Atlantic.
They were over the ocean on the second day out, for Tom did not pushthe craft to her limit of speed, now they had time to consider mattersat their leisure, for they had been rather hurried on leaving.
The machinery was working as nearly to perfection as it could bebrought, and Tom, after finding out that his craft would answer equallywell as a dirigible balloon or an aeroplane, let it sail along as thelatter.
"For," he said, "we have a long trip ahead of us and we need to saveall the elevating gas we can save. If worst comes to worst, and wecan't navigate as an aeroplane any more, we can even drift along as adirigible. But while we have the gasolene we might as well make speedand be an aeroplane."
The others agreed with him, and so it was arranged. Tom, when he hadseen to it that his craft was working well, let Ned take charge anddevoted himself to seeing that all the stores and supplies were inorder for quick use.
Of course, until they were nearer the land of the Czar, and that partof Siberia where Mr. Petrofsky's brother was held as an exile, theycould do little save make themselves as comfortable as possible in theairship. And this was not hard to do.
Naturally, in a craft that had to carry a heavy load, and lift itselfinto the air, as well as propel itself along, not many things could betaken. Every ounce counted. Still our friends were not without theircomforts. There was a well stocked kitchen, and Mr. Damon insisted oninstalling himself as cook. This had been Eradicate's work but theeccentric man knew how to do almost everything from making soup toroasting a chicken, and he liked it. So he was allowed free run of thegalley.
Tom and Ned spent much time in the steering tower or engine room, for,though all of the machinery was automatic, there was need of almostconstant attention, though there was an arrangement whereby in case ofemergency, the airship would steer herself in any set direction for acertain number of hours.
There were ample sleeping quarters for six persons, a living room and adining saloon. In short the Falcon was much like Tom's Red Cloud, onlybigger and better. There was even a phonograph on board so that music,songs, and recitations could be enjoyed.
"Bless my napkin! but this is great!" exclaimed Mr. Damon, about noonof the second day, when they had just finished dinner and looked downthrough the glass windows in the bottom of the cabin at the rollingocean below them. "I don't believe many persons have such opportunitiesas we have."
"I'm sure they do not," added Mr. Petrofsky. "I can hardly think ittrue, that I am on my way back to Siberia to rescue my dear brother."
"And such good weather as we're having," spoke Ned. "I'm glad we didn'tstart off in a storm, for I don't exactly like them when we're over thewater."
"We may get one yet," said Tom. "I don't just like the way thebarometer is acting. It's falling pretty fast."
"Bless my mercury tube!" cried Mr. Damon. "I hope we have no bad luckon this trip."
"Oh, we can't help a storm or two," answered Tom. "I guess it won't doany harm to prepare for it."
So everything was made snug, and movable articles on the small exposeddeck of the airship were lashed fast. Then, as night settled down, ourfriends gathered about in the cheerful cabin, in the light of theelectric lamps, and talked of what lay before them.
As Mr. Damon could steer as well as Tom or Ned, he shared in the nightwatch. But Mr. Petrofsky was not expert enough to accept thisresponsibility.
It was when Mr. Damon finished his watch at midnight, and called Tom,that he remarked.
"Bless my umbrella, Tom. But I don't like the looks of the weather."
"Why, what's it doing?"
"It isn't doing anything, but it's clouding up and the barometer isgoing down."
"I was afraid we were in for it," answered the young inventor. "Well,we'll have to take what comes."
The airship plunged on her way, while her young pilot looked at thevarious gages, noting that to hold her way against the wind that hadrisen he would have to increase the speed of the motor.
"I don't like it," murmured Tom, "I don't like it," and he shook hishead dubiously.
With a suddenness that was almost terrifying, the storm broke over theocean about three o'clock that morning. There was a terrific clap ofthunder, a flash of lighting, and a deluge of rain that fairly made thestaunch Falcon stagger, high in the air as she was.
"Come on, Ned!" cried Tom, as he pressed the electric alarm bellconnected with his chum's berth. "I need you, and Mr. Damon, too."
"What's the matter?" cried Ned, awakened suddenly from a sound sleep.
"We're in a bad storm," answered Tom, "and I'll have to have help. Weneed more gas, to try and rise above it."
"Bless my hanging lamp!" cried Mr. Damon, "I hope nothing happens!"
And he jumped from his berth as the Falcon plunged and staggeredthrough the storm that was lashing the ocean below her into whitebillow of foam.