Air Service Boys over the Atlantic; Or, The Longest Flight on Record

by E. J. Craine

  CHAPTER XVI

  THE FIRST NIGHT OUT

  It was with a strange feeling of exhilaration that Tom and Jack realizedthe fact that at last they were embarked on a flight that would eitherbring about their death or, if successful, make a record in long distancenon-stop travel in a heavier-than-air machine.

  The cheers of the men on the beach had been drowned in the roar of thepowerful motors and twin propellers when they left the land and commencedto sweep upward in a graceful curve.

  Both boys looked down to catch the last glimpse of France, the land soclosely associated with liberty in the minds of all true Americans. Itwas in her cause two million young Yankees were at that very hour facingthe Boche in a determined effort to chase him back over the Rhine andforce a stern settlement for all the devastation his armies had wrought.

  Quickly did the darkness blot out all trace of land. Back some littledistance, it was true, they could still glimpse feeble lights, markingthe location of Dunkirk. The French no longer feared to illuminate to alimited extent since bombing planes no longer came raiding at night, nordid that unseen monster Krupp cannon deliver its regular messages ofbursting shells.

  Below them lay the English Channel, and Lieutenant Beverly had so shapedthe course that as they rose higher and higher they were heading directlyacross, with the eastern shore of England close enough to have affordedthem a view of the land had it not been night-time.

  They had discussed all this many times, and settled on what seemed themost feasible route. Of course, it might have been a much shorterdistance had they decided to head almost south-west-by-south, making forthe Azores, and stopping there to prepare for another flight across toNewfoundland. Going that way, they would have had the benefit of thegeneral easterly winds. But this did not appeal to Tom and Jack forseveral good reasons. In the first place, it meant that a landing at theAzores would be reckoned of such importance that it must be heralded farand near. This was apt to get them into trouble with the militaryauthorities, since they had received no _bona fide_ permission to leavethe soil of France; at least, to return to America.

  Then again Jack was opposed to the plan for the reason that if theyshould land at the extreme point of Newfoundland considerable delay mustbe caused by the difficulty of getting transportation to the States. Allthe while Randolph Carringford would be steadily moving on, and, landingat New York, have an advantage over Jack.

  There was also a third reason that influenced the young navigators indeciding to take the longer course across the Atlantic. This concernedthe fogs such as can always be met with off the Newfoundland Banks, andwhich are often so dense that vessels flounder through them for severaldays at a stretch.

  By taking the southern course, and steering direct for the Virginia shorethey would be likely to miss much of this trouble, even though it was atime of year when heavy mists hang along the entire Atlantic seaboard.

  All of them were silent for some little time, only the roar of the motorand the propellers beating in their ears. Beverly had established amethod of communication when in flight without unduly straining thevoice. It was very similar to a wireless telephone outfit which Tom andJack had employed not long back, and by the use of which they couldactually talk with an operator similarly equipped, even if standing onthe earth a mile below their plane.

  It was arranged for all three of them, and could be removed from thehead when no communication was desired. In the beginning they were not inthe mood to make use of this contrivance, which, however, wouldundoubtedly be welcome later on, when they would be passing over theapparently limitless sea and the monotony had begun to wear upon theirnerves. Then conversation might relieve the tension.

  It was Jack who presently called out:

  "I can see lights below us. Do you think we've crossed the Channel,Lieutenant?"

  "Yes, that's the English shore, and doubtless Dover lies directly belowus, although we're at such a height that it's impossible to make sure."

  "What's the idea of keeping so high, Lieutenant?" continued Jack.

  "Simply to avoid collision with any of the coast guard fliers, who mighttake us for Huns meaning to attack London again after a long break. ButJack, I'm going to ask a favor of you."

  "Go to it then!" called out the other, who was plainly "on edge" withexcitement over the wonderful fact that they were at last on their way.

  "Drop that formality from this time on," said Beverly earnestly."Forget that I happen to rank you, for I'm sure your commissions areonly delayed in the coming. From now on let it be either plain Colin,or if you prefer, Beverly. We're three chums in a boat--a ship of theair, to be exact--and all ranking on a level. You'll agree to that,won't you, Jack?"

  "You bet I will, Colin, and it's just like you to propose it!" cried thepleased Jack.

  After that they fell silent again, though now and then Jack, who wasmaking good use of the night-glasses, announced that they seemed to bepassing over some city.

  Tom had studied their intended course so thoroughly that he was able totell with more or less accuracy what some of those places were. In sodoing he always kept in mind the probable speed at which the big planewas traveling.

  They had veered a little, and would not come anywhere near Liverpool orDublin, as Jack had suspected might be the case until he looked over thechart Tom had marked. On the contrary, their new course would carry themover the south of England, and just cut across the lower part of Ireland;indeed, the latter might have been skipped entirely with profit tothemselves in miles gained, only it seemed natural they should want tokeep in touch with land just as long as possible.

  How steadily the giant plane moved majestically through the realms ofspace several miles above the earth! Tom found himself fascinated by theworking of the motors from the very minute he first heard them take uptheir steady labor. Surely, if the feat were at all within the bounds ofpossibilities, they had, as Lieutenant Beverly said, "a fighting chance."

  Of course there was always impending danger. Any one of a score ofaccidents was liable to happen, especially after the engines had beenconstantly working hour after hour.

  Such things may bother an aviator when over the enemy's country, becauseif a landing seems necessary in order to avoid a fatal drop, there mustalways arise the risk of capture. How much more serious would even thesmallest engine trouble become, once they were far out over the oceanwith nothing in sight as far as the eye could reach save an endlessvastness of rolling waters beneath, and passing clouds overhead?

  Tom, however, would not allow himself to brood upon these possibilities,and when they flashed across his mind he persistently banished them.Sufficient to the day was the evil thereof; and if difficulties arosethey must meet them bravely, doing the best they could, and acceptingthe results in the spirit of Columbus, who was the pioneer in spanningthe Atlantic.

  Jack now made a discovery that caused him to call out again.

  "I believe we've left the land again, and it's water down under us rightnow, fellows!" he called shrilly, his voice sounding above the clamor bywhich they were continually surrounded.

  "Well, according to my calculations," said Tom, "we should be about quitof England and striking the Irish Sea at its junction with the Atlantic.It's that you believe you see right now."

  "Then before long we'll glimpse Ireland's lights!" cried the exultantJack. "Though we're likely to pass over only the city of Cork as we dashon for the big sea beyond. So far everything is moving like grease,Lieu--Colin."

  "I promised you it would," the pilot told him. "And let's hope it keepsup this way all the way through."

  Again they ceased trying to talk since it proved such an effort withoutresorting to the little wireless telephone arrangement. Jack did notifythem, however, when he believed he sighted tiny specks far below that hetook for the lights of some place of consequence; but Tom, who knewbetter, assured him he must be mistaken.

  "You're straining your eyes so much you mistake other things forlights, Jack," he told the observer. "It
might even be the reflectionof the stars on the glasses of your binoculars. We're not near Corkyet, and there's no other place worth mentioning that we'll come near.Rest up, Jack."

  "Plenty of time for that after we've struck out over the ocean," cameJack's defiant answer.

  Later on he again declared he saw lights. They had been speeding for somehours at a rate of more than sixty miles, which was good time for one ofthose monster heavily laden bombers to make.

  "Yes, I imagine it's Cork this time," said Tom, when appealed to."We veer to the left here, and pass out to sea over Queenstown,don't we, Colin?"

  "According to our mapped-out plan that's the course," came the reply, asthe pilot shifted his levers, and headed a little more toward the south.

  Their sensations at that particular time were very acute. It was as ifthey had reached the dividing line, and were about to enter upon a coursethat would admit of no turning back.

  "There, the last glimmer of light has disappeared!" finally criedJack in an awed tone, "and we're heading out over the Atlantic, boundfor America!"