CHAPTER XXV.

A SURPRISE FOR THE JANISSARIES.

As, flying over the rugged mountain country, they whirled back toward Korakum, Roy Stone bethought him of Jack. Thereupon he opened communication, and Bob himself announced to his other chum the tale of his own rescue.

From Jack the party in the plane learned that the attack on Korakum via the subterranean river had begun fifteen minutes before, and was proceeding fiercely so far as Jack could tell from the distant sounds of rifle fire. His anxiety regarding the fate of his father and of the small band of Athensian rebels and Arabs communicated itself to them.

Instead of flying straight out to the desert and landing, it was decided to follow a route which would bring them over the scene of conflict, if for no other reason than to learn how affairs progressed. Should the revolutionists be forced to flee, it would not be safe for the airplane to land on the desert near the Great Road, inasmuch as, with damaged wheels, it would not be able to re-ascend and would be captured, even if they escaped.

Besides, as Roy Stone pointed out, there was the bare possibility that they might be able to render help. Four gas bombs remained. If the Janissaries had managed to effect a landing and were in considerable force, dropping of the gas bombs amongst them would wreak havoc.

Accordingly, under Amrath’s guidance, Frank altered his course and presently, after scaling the mountain range blocking the upper end of Korakum valley, dropped down spiralling above the plain.

Amrath had glasses to his eyes and was studying the scene below. Evidently, the fight had gone against the revolutionists. No longer did they hold the earth works at the tunnel mouth, although heaps of bodies entangled among the stakes in the river and lying thick along the river bank and up to the top of the ramparts showed they had wreaked deadly execution before retiring.

Retiring now they were, however, but in good order. The horses of the revolutionists and the camels of Mr. Hampton and his party had been brought up in readiness for a quick retreat, and mounted upon them the defenders were fleeing down the valley, well in advance of the Janissaries. The latter, afoot, were rapidly being outdistanced.

That there had been losses amongst the defenders was only too sadly apparent. Of the gallant little band of eighteen, ten Athensians and Mr. Hampton, Ali and their six Arabs, only a dozen were left. But Amrath’s glasses showed him bundles being borne away with them by the living, and he knew them for the bodies of those who either had been wounded or slain. Perhaps, they had only been wounded.

Where the walls of the pass through which ran the Great Road out from ancient Korakum to the desert drew close together, the revolutionists, anticipating the necessity for falling back in case of attack, had thrown up a strong barricade across the pass from wall to wall. For this they were making and even as he watched, Amrath saw them pass in single file through a breach left for that purpose. He knew that they would drop into place a sheath of timbers and prepare for a final stand.

Rapidly the result of his observations were communicated to his companions, and Roy Stone radioed them to Jack. The latter was wild with anxiety for his father, and announced he would take his rifle and go to the barricade to offer his assistance. He explained a messenger had left for the other pass on receipt of the warning from the airplane of impending attack, but that so far help had not arrived.

“Tell the fellows at the barricade to keep up their courage,” was Stone’s last message to Jack, before the latter abandoned the radio station. “Tell them to watch. I’m going to drop our gas bombs among the Janissaries. They’re marching bunched up and we ought to put a lot of them to sleep. Although we saw only three boatloads on their way here, there must have been a lot more, because there’s a thousand at least on the march below us. Well, here goes.”

Jack did not stay to hear Roy Stone’s closing words, however, for at the report of the danger to the revolutionists he was off to see about his father, and Roy spoke to the empty air.

Frank swooped low above the close-packed mass of the Janissaries, streaming down the Great Road. High in the air he shut off his engine, and not many had warning of his approach. Even those who did merely gaped at the strange and terrifying sight instead of scattering.

Straight down the line of the Great Road flew Frank, and in succession Roy Stone released and dropped the gas bombs. Into the crowded ranks they fell. Not one missed the road. And, as they struck, the clouds of vapor were released.

The airplane passed on and Frank, switching on the engine, mounted and then turned to go back over their course and observe what effect their bombs had caused.

Deadly, indeed, the execution wrought. Where a few minutes before the Great Road had been alive with marching men, now it was a chaos of writhing forms strangling in the powerful fumes. Many already lay still. Ahead and behind the main body, others fled, stumbling, falling, rising, dashing on, to get away from the unseen enemy that had laid their comrades low. To either side fled still others.

Although Roy Stone had assured him in advance that the gas was not fatal in its effects, the spectacle caused Frank to experience a sickish feeling. How terrible it was, he thought, that men should thus be struck down in masses. Even the fact that the Janissaries were atrociously brutal, and richly deserved the worst of fates, was no comfort.

Abruptly, he turned and started to mount into the air, heading for the desert. As they passed high above the barricade, Amrath through his glasses could see the defenders busied closing the breach and preparing for a last desperate stand. Not yet were they aware of what had occurred in the valley, for the scene was hidden from them. A little figure, speeding up the Great Road, was seen and was presumed to be that of Jack. Well, he would let the defenders know in a moment that the airplane had done its part, and that an attack in force from the Janissaries need not be looked for, at least not for some time to come.

Now for a landing. Emerging from the pass, Frank mounted high and then, with engine shut off, began to descend on a long gradual slide, intending to pancake at the end and to drop as lightly as possible. With the wheels torn loose, as they suspected, any other method of alighting would be impossible. They would be shaken up, but would have to brace themselves for the shock and take things as easily as possible.

While they were still in the air, they saw in the distance dashing along the base of the Great Mountain Wall, a score of mounted revolutionists, followed by a considerable number afoot, and knew that aid for the defenders of the barricade was on the way. Well, thanks to Roy Stone’s gas bombs, the effects of which had incapacitated a large portion of the Janissaries, the re-inforcements would be in time.

In fact, sweeping into the valley of Korakum, they would be able to turn the tables on the enemy. These thoughts rushed through the minds of all, as Amrath communicated the meaning of the tiny figures which, as he alone carried glasses, were plainest to him.

Then came the pancake, and the final drop. But in the end the plane received little damage nor were its occupants much thrown about. The carriage holding the wheels, torn loose in front when the wheels scraped the upper edge of the Coliseum’s tiers of seats, was still firmly fastened at the rear. Thus, the wheels hung slantwise. Had Frank, ignorant of what had occurred, attempted the usual landing, the results would have been disastrous. But by pancaking and dropping, the wheels were pushed up against the bottom of the plane and held firmly in place, instead of being torn entirely from the fastenings.

The result was that the plane, although racketted about a bit, suffered no more than in a bumpy landing, and came to rest without burying nose or wings in the sand as had been feared would be the case.

All climbed stiffly out, and the next minute Frank and Bob were hugging each other like a couple of kids, and thumping each other on the back with terrific whacks. In the meantime, Roy Stone and Amrath stood aside, and it was not until Frank and he had pummelled each other to their mutual satisfaction that Bob turned to the aviator.

“Haven’t had much chance for personal conversation with you up there in the plane, Stone,” he said, as he wrung the other’s hand. “But I want to tell you—Oh, shucks, what’s the use? I can’t sling language much. Only, I will say I never got more benefit out of a fight in my life than out of that one with you in the cave back in Old Mexico.”

Roy Stone grinned through the sun-wrinkles about his eyes. He knew Bob’s reference was to the affray between the two parties in the lonely mountains of Old Sonora, when the boys were striving to rescue Mr. Hampton from the hands of the Mexican rebels. At that time, as recorded in “The Radio Boys on the Mexican Border,” Stone had been in the rebel forces. But later he changed his allegiance, and warm, indeed, had been the friendship between him and the boys, particularly between him and Bob, who had been his own individual opponent in the fight in the cave.

“You like fighting so much,” said Stone, “that it’s a wonder you consented to let us take you away from the Coliseum back there in Athensi.”

Bob shook his head and threw up his hands.

“A fellow can get too much of any good thing,” he said. “Well, let’s snap into it and go back to this place where our friends are fighting. Maybe we can help a little. But first I’m going to leave this hardware here.”

Whereupon he stripped off the various pieces of heavy armor and tossed them into the pit of the airplane, standing revealed in nothing but a G string—a superb figure who caused Amrath, for one, to draw in a breath of admiration.

“Monsieur would have been a hard man to beat in the Sacrificial Games,” he said in French.

“Aw, forget it,” said Bob. “Come on. Got to give Jack and Mr. Hampton a hand.”