CHAPTER XXIII
THE LOST MINE
For several moments it seemed as if disaster would overtake the littleband of platinum-hunters. In spite of all that Tom and Ned could do,the Falcon was whipped about like a feather in the wind. Sometimes shewas pointing her nose to the clouds, and again earthward. Again shewould be whirling about in the grip of the hurricane, like somefantastic dancer, and again she would roll dangerously. Had she turnedturtle it probably would have been the last of her and of all on board.
"Yank that deflecting lever as far down as it will go!" yelled Tom tohis chum.
"I am. She won't go any farther."
"All right, hold her so. Mr. Damon, let all the gas out of the bag. Iwant to be as heavy as possible, and get to earth as soon as we can."
"Bless my comb and brush!" cried the odd man. "I don't know what'sgoing to become of us."
"You will know, pretty soon, if the gas isn't let out!" retorted Tomgrimly, and then Mr. Damon hastened to the generator compartment, andopened the emergency outlet.
Finally, by crowding on all the possible power, so that the propellersand deflecting rudders forced the craft down, Tom was able to get outof the grip of the hurricane, and landed just beyond the zone of it onthe ground.
"Whew! That was a narrow squeak!" cried Ned, as he got out. "How'd youdo it, Tom?"
"I hardly know myself. But it's evident that we're on the right spotnow."
"But the wind has stopped blowing," said Mr. Damon. "It was only agust."
"It was the worst kind of a gust I ever want to see," declared theyoung inventor. "My air glider ought to work to perfection in that. Ifyou think the wind has died out, Mr. Damon, just walk in thatdirection," and Tom pointed off to the left.
"Bless my umbrella, I will," was the reply and the odd man started off.He had not gone far, before he was seen to put his hand to his cap.Still he kept on.
"He's getting into the blow-zone," said Tom in a low voice.
The next moment Mr. Damon was seen to stagger and fall, while his capwas whisked from his head, and sent high into the air, almost instantlydisappearing from sight.
"Some wind that," murmured Ned, in rather awe-struck tones.
"That's so," agreed his chum. "But we'd better help Mr. Damon," forthat gentleman was slowly crawling back, not caring to trust himself onhis feet, for the wind had actually carried him down by its force.
"Bless my anemometer!" he gasped, when Tom and Ned had given him a handup. "What happened?"
"It was the great wind," explained Tom. "It blows only in a certainzone, like a draft down a chimney. It is like a cyclone, only that goesin a circle. This is a straight wind, but the path of it seems to be assharply marked as a trail through the forest. I guess we're here allright. Does this location look familiar to you?" he asked of theRussian brothers.
"I can't say that it does," answered Ivan. "But then it was winter whenwe were here."
"And, another thing," put in Peter. "That wind zone is quite wide. Themine may be in the middle, or near the other edge."
"That's so," agreed Tom. "We'll soon see what we can do. Come on, Ned,let's get the air glider out and put her together. She'll have a testas is a test, now."
I shall not describe the tedious work of re-assembling Tom Swift'slatest invention in the air craft line--his glider. Sufficient to saythat it was taken out from where it had been stored in separate pieceson board the Falcon, and put together on the plain that marked thebeginning of the wind zone.
It was a curious fact that twenty feet away from the path of the windscarcely a breeze could be felt, while to advance a little way into itmeant that one would at once be almost carried off his feet.
Tom tested the speed of it one day with a special anemometer, and foundthat only a few hundred feet inside the zone the wind blew nearly onehundred miles an hour.
"What is it like inside, I wonder?" asked Ned.
"It must be terrific," was his chum's opinion.
"Dare you risk it, Tom?"
"Of course. The harder it blows the better the glider works. In fact Ican't make much speed in a hundred-mile wind for with us all on boardthe craft will be heavy, and you must remember that I depend on thewind alone to give me motion."
"What do you think causes the wind to blow so peculiarly here Tom?"went on Ned.
"Oh, it must be caused by high mountain ranges on either side, or theeffects of heat and cold, the air being evaporated over a certain areabecause of great heat, say a volcano, or something like that; though Idon't know that they have volcanoes here. That creates a vacuum, andother air rushes in to fill the vacant space. That's all wind is,anyhow, air rushing in to fill a vacuum, or low pressure zone, for youremember that nature abhors a vacuum."
It took nearly a week to assemble the Vulture, as Tom had named hislatest craft, from the fact that it could hover in the air motionless,like that great bird. At last it was completed and then, weights beingtaken aboard to steady it, all was ready for the test. Tom would haveliked to have taken all his passengers in the glider, for it would workbetter then, but the three Russians were timid, though they promised toget aboard after the trial.
The test came off early one morning, Tom, Ned and Mr. Damon being theonly ones aboard. Bags of sand represented the others. The glider waswheeled to the edge of the wind zone and they took their places in thecar. It was hard work for the gale, that had never ceased blowing foran instant since they found its zone, was very strong. But the gliderremained motionless in it, for the wing planes, the rudders, andequalizing weights had been adjusted to make the strain of the windneutral.
"All ready?" asked Tom, when his chum and his friend were in theenclosed car of the glider.
"As ready as I ever shall be," answered Ned.
"Bless my suspenders! Let her go, Tom, and have it over with!" criedthe odd man.
The young inventor pulled a lever, and almost instantly the gliderdarted forward. A moment later it soared aloft, and the three Russianscheered. But their voices were lost in the roar of the hurricane, asTom sent his craft higher and higher.
It worked perfectly, and he could direct it almost anywhere. The windacted as the motive power, the bending and warping wings, and therudders and weights controlling its force.
"I'm going higher, and see if I can remain stationary!" yelled Tom inNed's ear. His chum only nodded. Mr. Damon was seated on a bench,clinging to the sides of it as if he feared he would fall off.
Higher and higher went the Vulture, ever higher, until, all at once,Tom pulled on another lever and she was still. There she hung in theair, the wind rushing through her planes, but the glider herself asstill and quiet as though she rested on the ground in a calm. Shehardly moved a foot in either direction, and yet the wind, as evidencedby the anemometer was howling along at a hundred and twenty miles anhour!
"Success!" cried Tom. "Success! Now we can lie stationary in any spot,and spy out the land through our telescope. Now we will find the lostplatinum mine!"
"Well, I'm not deaf," responded Ned with a smile, for Tom had fairlyyelled as he had at the start, and there was no need of this now, forthough the wind blew harder than ever it was not opposed to any of theweights or planes, and there was only a gentle humming sound as itrushed through the open spaces of the queer craft.
Tom gave his glider other and more severe tests, and she answered everyone. Then he came to earth.
"Now we'll begin the search," he said, and preparations were made tothat end. The Russians, now that they had seen how well the craftworked, were not afraid to trust themselves in her.
As I have explained, there was an enclosed car, capable of holding six.In this were stores, supplies and food sufficient for several days.Tom's plan was to leave the airship anchored on the edge of the windzone, as a sort of base of supplies or headquarters. From there heintended to go off from time to time in the wind-swept area to look forthe lost mine.
There were weary days that followed. Hour after hour was spent in theair in the glid
er, the whole party being aboard. Observation afterobservation was taken, sometimes a certain strata of wind enabling themto get close enough to the earth to use their eyes, while again theyhad to use the telescopes. They covered a wide section but as day afterday passed, and they were no nearer their goal, even Tom optimistic ashe usually was, began to have a tired and discouraged look.
"Don't you see anything like the place where you found the mine?" heasked of the exile brothers.
They could only shake their heads. Indeed their task was not easy, forto recognize the place again was difficult.
More than a week passed. They had been back and forth to their base ofsupplies at the airship, often staying away over night, once remainingaloft all through the dark hours in the glider, in a fierce gale whichprevented a landing. They ate and slept on board, and seldom descendedunless at or near the place where they had left the Falcon. Once theycompletely crossed the zone of wind, and came to a calm place on theother side. It was as wild and desolate as the other edge.
Nearly two weeks had passed, and Tom was almost ready to give up and goback home. He had at least accomplished part of his desire, to rescuethe exile, and he had even done better than originally intended, forthere was Mr. Borious who had also been saved, and it was the intentionof the young inventor to take him to the United States.
"But the platinum treasure has me beat, I guess," said Tom grimly. "Wecan't seem to get a trace of it."
Night was coming on, and he had half determined to head back for theairship. Ivan Petrofsky was peering anxiously down at the desolateland, over which they were gliding. He and his brother took turns atthis.
They were not far above the earth, but landmarks, such as had to bedepended on to locate the mine, could not readily be observed withoutthe glass. Mr. Damon, with a pair of ordinary field glasses, was doingall he could to pick out likely spots, though it was doubtful if hewould know the place if he saw it.
However, as chance willed it, he was instrumental in bringing the questto a close, and most unexpectedly. Peter Petrofsky was relieving hisbrother at the telescope, when the odd man, who had not taken his eyesfrom the field glasses, suddenly uttered an exclamation.
"Bless my tooth-brush!" he cried. "That's a most desolate place downthere. A lot of trees blown down around a lake that looks as black asink."
"What's that!" cried Ivan Petrofsky. "A lake as black as ink? Where?"
"We just passed it!" replied Mr. Damon.
"Then put back there, as soon as you can, Tom!" called the Russian. "Iwant to look at that place."
With a long, graceful sweep the young inventor sent the glider backover the course. Ivan Petrofsky glued his eyes to the telescope. Hepicked out the spot Mr. Damon had referred to, and a moment later cried:
"That's it! That's near the lost platinum mine! We've found it again,Tom--everybody! Don't you remember, Peter," he said turning to hisbrother, "when we were lost in the snow we crawled in among a tangle oftrees to get out of the blast. There was a sheet of white snow nearthem, and you broke through into water. I pulled you out. That musthave been a lake, though it was lightly frozen over then. I believethis is the lost mine. Go down, Tom! Go down!"
"I certainly will!" cried the youth, and pulling on the descendinglever he shunted the glider to earth.