Crash!
As he expected, the machine struck nose first. The quivering fabric of the fuselage was suddenly checked, the change of direction causing Derek's knees to bend and hit hard against the deck. A blow like that of a gigantic sledge-hammer seemed to smite him betwixt the shoulder-blades.
Then, rearing, the fuselage toppled completely over, and the next instant Derek found himself being dragged down through icy-cold water.
CHAPTER V
The Next Day
Rendered well-nigh breathless by the shock of the water following the crash, Derek struggled feverishly to unbuckle the stiff leather belt that held him to the seat. Swallowing mouthfuls of water, until his lungs felt on the point of bursting under the asphyxiating strain, he at length succeeded in unfastening the buckle. Then, scrambling blindly, he endeavoured to extricate himself from the tangle of wreckage that, in his heated imagination, was encompassing him on every side. A severed tension-wire coiled itself round his left ankle. At the expense of his fleece-lined boot he succeeded in disengaging the sinuous embrace of the spring-like metal. Then, almost at his last gasp, the young officer resisted the temptation to struggle to the surface, but, diving under the upturned fuselage, he swam half a dozen strokes before attempting to rise.
Then, hardly able to withstand the numbing coldness of the water, he allowed himself to float to the surface.
Taking in copious draughts of the pure night-air, Derek floated impassively until the instinct of self-preservation urged him to make for the bank.
Silhouetted against the glare of the concealed searchlights were the figures of a score or more of men. Towards them the crashed pilot struck out feebly, until, to his unbounded relief, he saw two men plunging into the water to his assistance.