Again they tried to mount the storm to get to a height where they would be out of the reach of its worst elements, but a second time the effort was unsuccessful. The wind was coming in waves which threatened to tear the tremendous wings entirely away from the fusilage of the plane. Beneath them the ocean was being lashed into a fury of giant combers which, as they could see them, most resembled the constant opening and shutting of the great maw of some beast of prey, patiently, expectantly, awaiting their destruction.
The big-cylindered motors still were smashing out all the power they had in them and the propellers were lashing the air with seemingly uninterrupted force; the air-speed indicator still stood at one hundred and twenty-five miles an hour, and petrol was being consumed at an alarming rate; yet the lads all felt now that they were doing nothing more than holding their own—virtually remaining stationary over one spot which at any instant now might become their unmarked and unknown grave.
Any schoolboy is familiar with the principle that if two locomotives meet in a head-on collision, each traveling at a speed of, say, sixty miles an hour, the impact is the same as though one locomotive, going 120 miles an hour, had collided with one standing still.
If their guess was correct, therefore, that they were merely maintaining a stationary position, it was clear that up to this time the plane was combatting a pressure equivalent to two hundred and fifty miles' speed per hour. No plane long could endure such a tremendous test.
"I've heard the expression 'a tough night for the sailors,'" Andy shouted across to Big Jack, for it was difficult now for them to make themselves heard above the pounding of the engines, the scream of the storm and the beating of the propellers, even within the enclosed nacelle. "But," Andy continued, "I'm willing to agree right now that this is a rougher night on aviators."
"Yes," Jack shouted back, "and we're going to adopt seamen's tactics. We can't seem to get above this storm, and there's only one other thing to do. If we can bank and turn without spilling over completely we'll ride it out, even if it carries us back to Halifax."
Each man realized that upon the deftness with which they acted when the opportune moment came, their lives depended.
"Ready!" shouted Jack, who had been counting the alternate periods with which the heavier blasts had struck them, and felt the exact second approaching when the difficult maneuver might be attempted with least hazard.
"Right!" came the triple chorus in turn.