The coming of the storm suddenly hit them with a bang and the young fellow fought with the controls to keep Her Highness balanced.
Glancing through the tiny window he was startled to see that it was pitch dark, and he had to look at his watch to be sure that night was still several hours away.
“Some storm,” he remarked to Mr. Fenton, who answered courageously.
“Lake Champlain is noted for them. They are pretty tempestuous at times and this looks like a rip-snorter.”
III
THUNDERING WATERS
As the sturdy little plane tore along through the thick blackness a deluge of water hit her suddenly with such force it might have been a cloud burst and she staggered under the fury of the impact. She wobbled, side-slipped, twisted and dipped with the strength of the storm beating her mercilessly every inch of the way, and the gale at her tail spun her forward like a leaf torn from a branch. Above the roar of the engine and the shriek of the wind through the wires, came the threatening boom of the Lake as its mighty waves smashed against the rock-bound shore.
Tensely Jim sat, his eyes watching the dials in front of him, his hands and feet ready for instant action. It was a struggle to keep her righted and the boy zoomed her to fifteen thousand feet in an effort to get above the ceiling of the tempest. But he only climbed into greater trouble, and after a resounding crash of thunder, the sky was split in a thousand ways by flashes of forked lightning. Quickly he nosed her down, eyes on the directional compass, but keeping their course was out of the question. They were being blown miles out of the way and he hoped they would not go far enough east to land them somewhere in the mountains. He had not an instant to glance at his passenger, but once or twice his hand came in contact with Mr. Fenton, and the man was sitting braced for all he was worth. Another flash of lightning showed their faces, grim and white.
The rain continued to pelt them, and finally Jim calculated that they had traveled in a northerly direction. Allowing for the wind that had driven them steadily, he turned Her Highness’ nose about in an effort to reach their destination, and the frail little air-craft was almost rolled over. In Jim’s mind was a vision of Champlain and he debated the advisability of shifting the landing gears from the floats to the wheels, but he decided to keep the former in place. He knew so little about the country, and where it was safe to land. In the blackness which enveloped them he could not hope to come down without a very serious smash-up. With Bob in the back and Mr. Fenton beside him, it was too great a risk to take. Then he saw the man pick up the speaking-tube, so he prepared to listen.
“Anything I can do to help?” was the question. Jim shook his head.
“We ought to be near your place but I don’t know where to go down. Is the water very rough?” he asked.