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"We'll keep the time of our going secret, leaving before people are generally up," Mr. Giddings had said to the boys; "and by going on the 16th we'll not only be ahead of their smart calculations, but we shall have about half a week to rest up and see the country down there before you begin your strenuous journey. I need a little vacation anyway, so I will accompany you. We will stop off at Miami on the way, and enjoy some big-game fis.h.i.+ng in the Florida waters with some of my friends."
So the young men were very much excited and eager to be off this morning of the 16th, you may be sure. The Sky-Bird was tuned up a little to make certain she was in first-cla.s.s condition, then they all climbed in and the big glistening creature of wood, metal, and silk shot up into the air. It would probably be close to three weeks before they would see that familiar field and hangar again, and in that time if all went well they would circle the huge globe upon which they and their fellow-men lived. It was truly a most inspiring thought--one to have filled less phlegmatic blood than theirs with the wildest pulsations!
The weather was not at all promising, ma.s.ses of gray nimbus-cloud threatening to shut out the sun as it arose, with a promise of uncertain winds, if not rain; but John and Tom declared the conditions all the better for giving the machine a good test-out.
They climbed slowly upward through the cheerless, mist-laden skies, the engine well throttled back and running as smoothly as any engine could.
To make sure that all was in perfect working order, they circled for ten minutes over the town, trying the different controls, then turned the Sky-Bird southward.
At two thousand feet they suddenly emerged from the fog belt into brilliant suns.h.i.+ne, but the world below was lost to sight, screened by a dense pall of mist. Accordingly, Tom Meeks, who was acting as pilot, set a compa.s.s course for Cape Hatteras, the first guide-post along the Atlantic coast, some five hundred miles distant. After an hour's steady running, John took the throttle, followed later by Bob, and finally Paul. It was a new sensation to the last-named youths to be piloting the airplane out of view of the earth's surface, relying solely for safety and position upon the compa.s.s and altimeter, and knowing that somewhere far below them swept the rolling billows of the ocean; but they enjoyed it immensely.
Finally, just as John declared they ought to be close to their objective, the winds freshened and made a great rift in the fog below them, through which they could plainly see the grand old Carolina coast-line a little way ahead and to their right. Between the main sh.o.r.e and the long spine-like series of reefs const.i.tuting the cape itself, sparkled the waters of numerous sounds, while the weather-beaten lighthouse on the extreme elbow of Hatteras stood out like a stick of white chalk against the rocky gray background of its support.
All were delighted with the accuracy with which they had made their first guide-post, as John and Mr. Giddings checked their bearings on the chart. The Sky-Bird had behaved splendidly so far, and if she continued in that way they ought to reach their destination well before nightfall, even at the reduced speed at which they had been flying, which had averaged not much more than a hundred miles an hour.
It now became a question whether they should leisurely follow along the inwardly curving coast-line, taking in Savannah, Charleston, and Jacksonville, as guide-posts, or save a hundred miles or more by flying straight across the waters to Miami. As they wished to test out each member's ability to operate by compa.s.s rather than by landmarks, it was decided to take the shorter route. So gradually they left the rugged American sh.o.r.e behind and swept farther and farther out to sea.
The Sky-Bird II was flying as steady as a rock. All the bracing wires were tuned to a nicety, the wind humming through them and along the smooth sides of the great creature's body with a whistling monotone which arose and fell with bewitching rhythm as the force fluctuated.
The varnish and fire-proofing compound glistened brightly in the suns.h.i.+ne, attracting the attention of numerous seabirds, mostly gulls and ospreys, which followed them at times for short distances, only to be outdistanced. The engine was running at less than half its possible speed, and purring like a contented kitten after a meal of fresh milk.
The clouds and fog had cleared away; the sky was as bright now as a sky ever gets; far beneath, the blue-green waters of the Atlantic, flecked with white-topped waves, spread on all sides. Two torpedo-boats, looking like toys, went northward, and tiny white waving specks showed that the Jacks aboard were waving a salute to them. Off seaward a black trailing blot against the horizon showed where some unseen steams.h.i.+p plowed her way between ports. Mr. Giddings and the boys were filled with admiration.
A small airplane is ideal for short flights, joyriding the heavens, or sight-seeing among the clouds; but there is something more majestic and stable about a big machine like the Sky-Bird II which a pilot soon begins to love with a pa.s.sion he never feels toward the little 'plane.
An exquisite community of spirit grows up between machine and pilot; each, as it were, merges into the vitals of the other. The levers and controls are the nervous system of the airplane, through which the will of the aviator may be expressed--expressed in an infinitely fine degree. Indeed, a flying-machine is something entirely apart from and above all other contrivances of man's ingenuity. It is the nearest thing to animate life which man has created. In the air an airplane ceases to be a mere piece of dumb mechanism; it seems to throb with feeling, and is capable not only of primary guidance and control, but actually of expressing a pilot's temperament.
The lungs of the machine--its engines--are the crux of man's mechanical wisdom and skill. Their marvelous reliability and intricacy are almost as awesome as the human anatomy. When both engines are going well, and synchronized to the same speed, the roar of the exhausts develops into one long-sustained and not inharmonious _boom-m-m-m-m!_ It is a song of pleasant melody to the pilot, whose ear is ever p.r.i.c.ked to catch the first semblance of a "sharp" or "flat" note telling him that one or more of the twelve cylinders of each busy engine is missing fire and needs a little doctoring.
It was about four o'clock that afternoon when our party first sighted the low, out-jutting sea-coast of Florida. As they came slowly toward it, by reason of their angular course of approach, they could gradually make out a group of green palms here and there along the white stretches of sand, and see cl.u.s.ters of light-colored buildings, piers, s.h.i.+pping, and people moving about. Thus they pa.s.sed Juno and Palm Beach, and then saw the thicker cl.u.s.ter of fine dwellings of Miami itself, the most southerly city on the Florida mainland.
Paul was guiding the Sky-Bird at this time, and turned her across the limpid waters of Biscayne Bay, cutting a huge circle above the town and slowly swooping downward toward the broad white beach, as he picked out a level stretch for landing. Townspeople who had been watching the strange airplane, so much like a great bird, now ran forward to see it land.
A moment later, with a graceful drop and upward curve, it struck the sandy beach and ran forward lightly until the brakes were applied and it was brought to a standstill.
CHAPTER XII
FIGHTING A DEVIL-FISH
Many questions were asked our friends by the onlookers, but they gave them evasive replies, being careful to let out no hint as to their real ident.i.ty and connection with the approaching race around the world.
Two husky negroes were engaged to watch the airplane until relieved from such responsibility, and Mr. Giddings then led the boys to the home of a Mr. Choate, a close and trusted friend and superintendent of the big Miami Aquarium, one of the most noted repositories for live fish in the country.
Mr. Choate was astonished beyond measure when he learned that his old friend had come in the big airplane which he and his wife had noticed over the town a short time before, and was still further surprised when Mr. Giddings bound him to secrecy and told him that the young men with him const.i.tuted the crew of one of the two airplanes which was so soon to circle the earth by way of the equator. He shook hands warmly with them, and with his charming wife made them all very much at home.
Than Mr. Choate, no man in the South knew more about the mult.i.tudinous varieties of fish inhabiting Florida waters. He was not only an authority on them, but he was also recognized as a most skillful catcher of fish. For over an hour that evening he told them absorbing stories of the habits of Gulf Stream denizens, and recited stirring tales of battles with some of the biggest of them. And when he finally announced, "To-morrow I shall see that you are given a taste of our wonderful fish-life by joining me in a fis.h.i.+ng expedition," they could hardly get to sleep for thinking of the fine prospect.
After breakfast the next morning, their host conducted them down to the waterside and into the beautiful white concrete buildings of the aquarium, and here he proceeded to show them, swimming about in great gla.s.s tanks, the most wonderful collection of fish they had ever seen outside of the big New York aquarium itself.
"You probably never realized before," said Mr. Choate, "that in the warm waters of the Gulf Stream, between Miami and Key West, more than 600 varieties of fish are to be found. They vary in size all the way from the tiny sea-horse, the size of a baby's little finger, to the great tarpon and killer-whale, the latter a vicious creature weighing many tons and large enough to swallow a good-sized boy without sc.r.a.ping the b.u.t.tons off his jacket."
"It must be a lot of sport to catch some of these fairly big fish,"
remarked John Ross.
"Well, this afternoon I shall take you fellows where you can all have a chance at them," said Mr. Choate with a smile. "It would be interesting to have a motion-picture record of the thoughts which flash through the mind of the average inland fisherman the first time he feels the tiger-like swoop of a five-foot barrancuda, the fierce yank of a hundred-pound amber-jack, or the sullen surge of a big grouper on his line; for even when armed with the heaviest rod, and a line as big around as a silver dollar, he is pretty sure to wish, at least subconsciously, that his tackle might be twice as formidable and his arm twice as strong. Just imagine yourself, for instance, out in the clear blue waters of the Gulf Stream, looking overboard at your baited hook thirty feet below, which you can see as plainly as if it were in no water at all. Then up comes a great jewfish, which is just as likely to weigh five hundred pounds as fifty, and to be as large as a good-sized Shetland pony, and he makes a lunge for your bait, and-- Well, you can go right on imagining the rest, too."
In all, they visited a half-hundred tanks of fish before they were through, watching this group and that group of inmates disporting themselves about in the salty water with apparent unconcern of visitors. In markings some of them rivaled the most beautiful designs the mind could picture, and others were so brilliant and wonderful in color that the rainbow was mild in comparison.
From the aquarium our party went up the beach to where the Sky-Bird II was resting under guard, and putting two new negroes to the task, they returned and had lunch with Mr. Choate, following which he conducted them down to the pier and aboard his sea-going motor-yacht, _L'Apache_.
This trim vessel had a crew of five men, and as she started away, headed for the Bahama Islands, a 25-foot motor-driven tender bobbed along in her wake. In this they were to do most of their fis.h.i.+ng, their host declared.
a.s.sisted by the northeastward pressure of the Gulf Stream, they made splendid progress, and that evening cast anchor behind Bimini, a tiny isle which rests like a jeweled feather on a summer sea. It was like pulling teeth to go below deck for sleep and leave the wondrous beauty of the tropical night, with the soft, cool touch of the ever-blowing trade wind, the shadowy grace of the giant coconut-palms swaying and whispering on the nearby beach in the moonlight, while the surf, lapping upon the coral reef on the outer side of the isle, lulled them with its crooning obligato.
At sunrise all hands were up and ready for the sport. A hot breakfast was served by the cook, after which they piled aboard the motor-tender, throwing in rods, lines, and harpoons.
Through the island channel out to the open sea they went, all except the steersman hanging over the side of the craft and enjoying the amazing sights in the clear depths below. Bob excitedly pointed out a group of six or eight big tarpon lazily wallowing about fifty feet beneath them. And less than two minutes afterward, Paul, in no less excitement, announced the discovery on his side of a big nurse-shark which was rolling an eye at him from the ocean's floor. John pointed out, from the bow, a great school of fish numbering possibly ten thousand, which Mr. Choate stated were small mangrove-snappers. They were parading up and down a stretch of coral shelf along the bottom, and they made a wild dash and hid in crannies under the coral as a big barracuda unexpectedly shot into their midst and grabbed one unlucky snapper.
In a little while the fishermen were out into the open sea, and all began to scan the pulsating bosom of the Gulf Stream with fresh interest. Strange as it may seem, the fish of tropical waters do not appear to have the slightest apprehension of danger from the noise of a motor-boat, and one cannot only get very close to them, but can follow them about and observe their movements without trouble, particularly if he is familiar with their habits.
In a little while Mr. Giddings called the attention of all to a dark shadow not far below the surface, about two boat-lengths on the quarter. Mr. Choate promptly announced this to be a "herring-hog," a species of porpoise, and ordered the boat turned that way.
The creature proved to be a full-grown herring-hog, weighing around four hundred pounds, and as this species destroys great numbers of foodfish, Mr. Choate made preparations to attack it. Reaching the proper position, a hand harpoon was thrown by him. It found its mark, and away went the great fish at so fast a clip that the line fairly smoked as it shot from the reel barrel. In a few moments it was all out, and then the motor-boat gave a jump forward and rushed after the herring-hog. He was towing it, as if it had been a chip!
The engineer now reversed the propeller. This act slowed up the herring-hog noticeably, but still his prodigious strength carried the craft forward. It was ten minutes or more before he tired sufficiently for them to haul him in.
As they were making the big fish fast to the gunwale, a considerable disturbance was observed on the surface of the water about a quarter of a mile away. Mr. Choate judged this fuss to be caused either by a leopard-shark killing its prey, or by some battle royal between two equally big denizens of the deep.
Mr. Giddings and the boys were all excited at the thought of getting a harpoon into a huge leopard-shark, which will fight any and everything that swims, as well as many things of flesh which do not swim, not excepting man himself.
But as the boat drew closer, Mr. Choate, who seemed to have uncanny eyesight plus long experience with subsea life, added greatly to the nervousness of his guests by suddenly exclaiming: "Stand by, men; it's the biggest devil-fish I have ever seen!"
At once everybody who could find one, seized a harpoon; and in his excitement Tom Meeks even picked up an oar, as if to defend himself against attack!
In a few minutes they were close enough to note that the entire bottom of the ocean in the area where the creature had been seen had gone suddenly dark; and in the translucent depths above nearly all of the party discerned a gigantic shadow moving along. It looked for all the world like an immense pancake with bat-like wings. These wings were fluttering queerly, and from the action of the fish Mr. Choate said he was sure it was devouring prey which it had just killed. He now asked Paul if he would like to try a cast. The boy a.s.sented eagerly.
Bracing his feet in the bottom of the motor-boat he took good aim and let his harpoon fly.
Paul had hardly hoped to hit the devil-fish. And probably he would not have done so, inexperienced as he was with a harpoon, except for the fact that the creature was of unusual size and presented a broad mark.
As it chanced, the steel went true. The devil-fish arose to the surface as though hurled upward by a submarine explosion. One of its great battle-like fins broke above the water, sending gallons of spray over the occupants of the boat, and splintering the harpoon staff against the boat's side as if it had been a match stem; then its ten-foot pectoral wing struck the water with a terrific impact, making a noise which could have been heard several miles away.
For a moment the monster seemed bewildered, and that moment cost it dear, for it enabled Bob to throw another harpoon, which stuck deep into its body near the spine. With a mad dash it started off to sea, taking the harpoon lines with it. As the lines sped out of their barrels Mr. Choate grasped one and Mr. Giddings the other, aided respectively by John and Tom, and all hands strained to hold them, but although they went out slowly, they could not be held, until at length Paul and Bob came to the rescue and managed to get the ends around cleats in the boat.
However, this did not stop the devil-fish. It made out to sea with remarkable speed for so clumsy-looking a monster, towing the heavy boat and its inmates after it with the ease of a horse pulling a toy carriage! As it went, all hands bore on the lines, adding to its burden, but for a long time this seemed to have little or no effect.
Every once in a while the devil-fish would literally hurl itself several feet out of the water, and its huge flat body would come down with a crack like the explosion of a gun sh.e.l.l. Perhaps it was imagination, but each time it broke the surface in one of these cavortings it seemed to the boys that the fish was bigger than the last time.
Now and then the creature would sound for deep water, in an effort to shake its captors off, and several times it went down so far that Mr.
Choate stood ready with upraised hatchet to cut the lines at the last moment, in the event the bow should show signs of diving under.
All of a sudden the lines slackened, and all hands frantically hauled in slack, as the devil-fish turned and dashed toward the boat. He came up almost under the craft, one great wing actually lifting one side of the heavy launch well out of the water and giving everybody a pretty stiff scare.
With quick presence of mind, Mr. Choate at this moment let drive another harpoon, which found lodgment in the monster's flat head, and away it dashed again with the greatest vigor. As there was now a line leading to each side of the devil-fish's body, those in the motor-boat found they were able actually to drive their captive as if it were a runaway horse, a gradual bearing on one "rein" or the other tending to direct the uncertain creature in that direction. Thus very adroitly they swerved the huge fish toward the now distant sh.o.r.e of Bimini, hoping to master it in the shallower waters of the isle.