Then Tom threw the elevators and ailerons hard up, and held them there. They were going at a rate of close to a hundred miles an hour at the moment, and their velocity brought them around in a pretty loop. There was no way for them to tell if the serpent had been dislodged, so, to make as sure as he could of accomplishing his purpose, Tom kept his controls as set, and they made another or double loop.
This time he straightened out his controls as he came up to the horizontal, and they ran swiftly ahead again on a level keel.
His companions quickly unloosened their straps, and ran for the rear window. A feeling of the greatest thanksgiving filled their souls and joy lit up their faces. The python was gone! He had hurtled through the air during one or the other of the loops, and his long sinuous body was probably at that moment lying crushed upon the hard ground, or impaled upon the sharp stub of some forest tree, far below.
It had been a night of intense excitement. Now that they began to beat through the air in the old tuneful way, and there was nothing more to claim their attention until they should arrive at Aden sometime in the morning, Bob and Paul took to their hammocks for sleep, but first Bob got Khartum on the wireless and delivered their position and a brief description of their adventures. As may be imagined, however, the two youths did not shut their eyes immediately. There was much to think about and to talk about before even fatigue could get the better of them.
Tom put the Sky-Bird through on a straight course for Aden as fast as he dared run the night engine, which was very close to its limit, now that it had had a chance to cool off and was well supplied with water. It was important that they should make speed, for in the stop for water and the subsequent maneuvering to rid themselves of their unwelcome passenger, the python, they had lost upwards of an hour's time.
Flying high, and depending entirely upon the compass for striking Aden, they shot through the starlit tropical night like a meteor, showing no lights except the two small ones on the dashboard in the cabin, by means of which Tom could observe the instruments and the controlling levers below. Thus they crossed the famous Nile, sweeping below Khartum and across the plains of Kordofan, and when the first streaks of daylight appeared ahead of them they were just entering the plateaus of northern Abyssinia.
Paul and Bob now relieved Tom and John, and the latter young men took a nap. It was their custom to work in pairs, the observer preparing food for himself and the pilot during the course of flight. Sometimes the observer took the throttle long enough to give his friend a chance to eat, and sometimes the pilot retained his seat, allowing the automatic arrangement to do the guiding for him while he munched his food.
Just before seven o'clock Paul and Bob saw two large bodies of water ahead of them, one stretching to the right and the other to the left. The chart told them that the northern body was the Red Sea and the southern one the Gulf of Aden, which opens into the Indian Ocean. Between these bodies lay a narrow belt of water, flanked on the western or African side by rocky, wooded hills, and on the eastern side by low, sandy shores dotted with palms. This was the Strait of Bab-el-Mandeb, and the country beyond was Persia.
Aden could not be more than fifteen minutes' run east now, and so Bob awakened his sleeping comrades while Paul guided the airplane across the strait. They flew a little higher, later, following the general contour of the terraced slopes of the mountains along the Arabian coast.
As the Sky-Bird came leisurely over the hills surrounding this British seaport of Aden, they could see that the town nestled in the crater of an extinct volcano, as they had read. All around the low, white buildings spread the rugged hillsides, and in declivities they passed over numbers of the great brick tanks or reservoirs which catch and store the scanty rainfall of the region and thus furnish Aden with its only water supply.