Slowly, surely the Sky-Bird overtook the rival machine. When it seemed her nose was almost up to the tail of the Clarion, they saw a movement in the bottom of the fuselage of the craft above them, where her trapdoor of glass was situated in the floor of the cabin. Then something gray streaked down through the air. It went whizzing by just in front of the Sky-Bird, and a few moments later plunged into the sea with a great splash.
"Huckleberry pie!" ejaculated Tom Meeks, "one of their rocks has burst through their floor trap. Say, that was a close call for us!"
"Watch out! Here comes another!" cried Paul, as a second gray missile went by them on the other side.
Barely had it struck the waters beneath, when a third rock came so close that they could feel the rush of air as it passed downward. It was as if they were being bombarded by an enemy above, who used great stones instead of explosives. Their faces paled when the truth struck them like a thunderbolt. With calm deliberation, deadly intent, and a skill born of dropping bombs on targets during the war, some of the fellows in the machine above were trying to wreck the Sky-Bird with the rocks they had gathered in the field back in Ceylon!
"Quick, Bob!" cried John to their pilot. "Swerve out from under these devils as fast as you can! If another stone comes down here, it may—"
The words he intended to say never were uttered. At that very moment another gray object streaked its way down through the heavens, whirling uglily. They thought sure it would strike the cabin roof and crash through, and intuitively they cowered back in the corners for protection.
But their speed carried the stone farther to the rear. There was a tearing, rending sound.
Their faces blanched. And then Bob called out: "Hi, fellows, something's gone wrong! The Sky-Bird's bound to put her nose into the sea. The tail elevators don't work!"