The great motorship arose, and through the mist and rain ascended from the valley of the luminous snakes and the sixty nuggets of gold. The wind increased in violence as they got above the protecting sides of rock, and when they reached the top of the big gulch the Comet was fairly heeled over in spite of her powerful propellers.
“Some blow, this!” gasped Jerry, as he labored to shift the rudder.
“Can we weather it?” asked Jim, who was in the pilot house with him.
“Oh, I guess so. But I’ll be glad when it’s over.”
“We’re on the Canadian side,” returned Mr. Nestor, as he looked down, and took note of the landmarks.
“We’ll soon be in our own country,” went on Jerry, “though we could make it quicker if this wind wasn’t against us.”
Hardly had he ceased speaking when from below them came several sharp cracks, and at the same time the airship seemed to hesitate and falter. Then it began to sink slightly.
“What’s the matter?” yelled the miner.
“Something’s wrong with the gas bag!” answered Jerry, who saw by the vapor gauge before him that they were losing buoyancy. Then from the observation cabin where he had gone, Bob yelled:
“There’s a crowd just below us, and they’re shooting at us, too! They’re aiming at the gas bag!”