[CHAPTER XXIX]
THE WRECKED AIRSHIP
Several hours passed, and it was only by the greatest skill that Jerry and his companions were able to keep their craft on a level keel. Several times she almost turned turtle, and they were in danger of being hurled to earth as the unfortunate bank robbers had been.
Night was approaching, and still the Comet hurled herself forward through the heart of the storm. Finally Jerry, who had gone to the motor room, while Ned steered, came back to the pilot house.
“We’ve got to go down,” he said. “We can’t stand this much longer. It’s getting worse; and besides, we can’t look for the airship in the darkness. We’ll have to make a landing.”
“But how can we—in that?” and Ned pointed to the vast expanse of black forest below them. “We’ll be torn to pieces on the trees.”
“We’ll have to wait until we see a comparatively clear place, of course. Even then it’s going to be risky; but we’ve got to do it. Tell Bob to watch out for a clearing.”
Eagerly they all watched, while the darkness gathered more densely. The storm had not abated a bit, and it was now raining again, the drops whipping against the airship almost like hail, such was the force of the wind.
Suddenly Bob, who had donned a rain coat, and a rubber hat with a flap that came to his shoulders, uttered a cry, and pointed downward and to the left.