CHAPTER VIII.

A TERRIBLE STORM.

After a hard climb the two adventurers finally succeeded in reaching the air-ship.

As they approached Barney stood at the rail and hailed them.

“Be me sowl! I’m glad to see yez!” he cried; “but phwere on earth did yez come from, anyhow?”

“Golly!” cried Pomp, rushing up and embracing his friend; “I’m jes’ so glad fo’ to see yo’, I’ish, dat I cain’t git over it.”

“Let up wid yer love-makin’, an’ give us some dacint explanation of yure conduct!” cried Barney, with much dignity.

“Yo’ ought to know ‘bout dat yo’se’f, I’ish. Didn’t yo’ see me fall down in dat hole in de ground?”

“Begorra, I did, an’ phweriver did it go to, anyway?”

“It jes’ carried me down into a big cave, whar I found Marse Harding, an’ we managed to fin’ our way out aftah a long time, chile. Dat am de way ob it.”

“Bejabbers, that’s quare enough. But shure, didn’t yez see Misther Frank?”

Harding and Pomp looked amazed.

“Marse Frank!” exclaimed the darky. “Wha’ yo’ talkin’ about, chile?”

“Bjabbers, can’t yez undherstand?” roared Barney. “Misther Frank went afther yez to thry and find yez, begob.”

“Didn’t see nuffin’ ‘tall ob him,” replied Pomp, vaguely. “Which way did he go?”

Harding was interested.

“Did Frank go out to look for us, Barney?” he asked.

“He did that, sor.”

“But was he not with Pomp at the pit?”

“He was that, with me, but sez he, ‘I belave I kin foind thim two min by just goin’ into the cave agin an’ makin’ a search for them there!’”

“Oh!” cried Harding, with comprehension. “I see. Frank believed that the pit led down into the cave!”

“That’s it, sor.”

“And he has gone into the cave to look for us?”

“Yis, sor.”

“Oh, that’s all right!” cried the young gold seeker, with a breath of relief; “then we had better simply remain here until he returns. But—there is a possibility that he may get lost in the cave.”

“Huh! Don’ yo’ believe dat, chile. If we could fin’ our way out ob dat place, yo’ kin jes’ bet dat Marse Frank could do de same.”

“Begorra, an’ that’s thrue enough,” agreed Barney.

“Well, then, all we can do is to wait here for his return!” said Harding.

“Av coorse it is.”

“I reckon dat am de bes’ way.”

This settled matters.

All now started to go on board the Kite. Harding had put his hand on the rail when there was a series of sharp reports, and bullets went whistling past.

Astounded, the adventurers turned to behold a thrilling sight.

There, rushing across the bluff, was a large number of the Peruvian brigands.

They were yelling fiendishly and brandishing their weapons.

“Bejabbers, here comes the inemy!” cried Barney, in wild excitement.

“Golly, I done fink we bettah run fo’ our lives!” yelled Pomp.

“Aboard, both of you!” cried Harding, who had reached the deck. “For your lives!”

But there was little need of the admonition.

The two faithful servitors were aboard the Kite in a twinkling.

All rushed into the cabin.

Pomp and Barney picked up their rifles and gave the brigands a shot. But Harding, who was much excited, cried:

“Oh, that will never do! They will be upon us in another moment. Once they get on board the ship we are lost!”

“Huh! dey will nebber do dat!” cried Pomp. “Not if dis chile knows it.”

The darky with this rushed into the pilot-house.

It was but a moment’s work to press the key and the air-ship shot up into space.

The baffled brigands gathered below upon the spot where the Kite had been.

They seemed to view the ascension of the air-ship with profound astonishment and mystification.

“Begorra, they don’t know phwat to make av it, do they?” cried Barney, with a laugh.

Harding held up a shot-riddled hat.

“This is how narrow my escape was!” he declared. “An inch nearer and my career would have been closed.”

“It’s glad I am, sor, that it was not,” said Barney.

“Dat am jes’ so,” declared Pomp.

“Thank you,” said the gold seeker, with a thrill of pleasure. “Your kind words are gratifying.”

But so intent had they been on watching the brigands below that they had failed to note a more serious calamity which now threatened them.

All this while the copper hue had been increasing the sky.

The livid hue upon the horizon had deepened, and a gust of wind, with a mournful sough and wail, swept across the country.

The sun was in a yellow mist, and a dark shadow was beginning to creep over the land.

Harding was the first to note this.

A sharp, startled cry escaped his lips.

“My God!” he cried. “It is a storm coming and such a thing in the tropics is no light affair.”

Pomp and Barney saw the danger as well.

“A storm!” cried Barney. “Begorra, it luks to me loike a hurrycane!”

“I jes’ fink we bettah get out ob dis place!” cried Pomp.

This was true.

But where should they go?

The brigands were below. It would hardly be safe to descend. To remain where they were would be to expose themselves to the fury of the storm.

It was a dilemma.

But there was no time in which to make a decision.

Even while they were thinking about it there came a terrific gust of wind, which sent the Kite nigh over on her beam ends, so to speak.

“Heavens!” cried Harding; “this will never do. Lower the ship, Barney.”

The Celt saw that this was likely their only salvation.

He sprang to the pilot-house.

Pomp and Harding followed.

But they had barely time to shut the door when the storm burst. What followed was ever after to them like chaos.

The Kite seemed to be whirling and tumbling over and over in space.

Every movable article aboard was tossed hither and thither.

As for the occupants, one moment they were upon their heads, and the next moment upon their feet, or rolling about like a football.

It was evident that the Kite was speeding through space with awful velocity.

Where this sort of thing would end up the voyagers did not know.

They expected that at any moment the Kite would be divested of her rigging, dashed to the ground, and that they all would be killed.

But this did not happen.

The very fact of the air-ship’s complete helplessness in the vortex of the tornado saved her.

The rotascopes were revolving like a whirlwind.

Unknown to the voyagers the shock had thrown the ratchet of the lever open, and the full force of the current was on.

Every lull in the force of the wind gave the air-ship a chance to shoot upward.

Up she went like a rocket, higher and higher.

She attained a tremendous elevation from the earth, as the passengers now began to discover by reason of the change of temperature.

The air became chill, and as cutting as a knife.

Frost instantly began to appear upon the glass windows and the ironwork of the air-ship

The wind was less furious now, and the Kite was going more steady.

Barney and Pomp at once understood the change.

The Celt sprang up and cried:

“Whurroo! It’s saved we are if we don’t freeze to death. Shure, the storm is all below us this blessed moment!”

“What do you mean?” cried Harding; “have we really risen above the storm?”

“That we have, sor.”

“But—is it not dangerous at this frightful altitude?”

Harding shivered with horror as he reflected that they might be several miles from the earth.

Indeed it was not a cheerful reflection for one with unsteady nerves.

But Barney laughed.

“Yez need have no fears at all, at all, sor!” he cried. “Shure we’ll get back to the earth all safe!”

The Kite was now steady as a clock.

A strong gale was blowing, and snow was flying about the deck.

But it was evident that she was far above the storm and that the danger would very soon be past.

Barney pulled out some thick overcoats, which all donned.

Indeed the cold was very painful.

Looking out through the pilot-house window Barney was able to see that the damage to the Kite was not of any great consequence.

The steel bracing irons of the rotascope shaft were bent, the blade of one rotascope was twisted, and the deck had been cleared of everything portable upon it.

Fortunately, this was only in the shape of a few chains of no great value.

Certainly there was good reason for warm congratulations.

The escape had been a narrow one. It was a living wonder that the air-ship had not been wrecked.

The cold was intense, and the voyagers were kept busy rubbing their hands and stamping their feet.

But it was better by far to endure than to risk contact again with the tornado.

Gradually the storm subsided, the yellow light began to fade, the Kite hung motionless in the heavens, and Barney cried:

“Shure an’ I kin see the earth below. The storm is all over.”

“Heaven be praised!” cried Harding, eagerly. “We must return at once to the spot where we left Frank Reade, Jr.”

“Bejabers, we will, if we kin iver foind it!” cried Barney.

“What!” cried Harding; “do you think there is any doubt about that?”

“Shure, sor, an’ I dunno.”

“How far do you think we have been carried by the gale?”

“Mebbe a hundred miles, and perhaps more, sor.”

“Impossible!” cried Harding, in dismay. “You don’t mean that.”

“It is near roight, sor!” declared Barney. “We were traveling moighty fast.”

“You are right there. Well, we have no time to lose, then, in returning to Frank Reade, Jr. But let us first find out where we are.”

“That’s right, sor!”

But Barney glanced over the rail and gave a cry of surprise. Then he glanced up at the rotascopes.

“Phwy, that’s queer!” he muttered. “Shure, we’re falling to the earth now!”

He rushed into the engine-room and at a glance saw the truth. The storm had disarranged a part of the electrical machinery and the Kite was falling with frightful rapidity.

Barney saw that the break was beyond quick repair, and cried:

“Och, hone, it’s kilt we’ll all be. Shure, the air-ship is fallin’ as fast as iver it can!”