"Shut down de engines!" cried Washington.
"Lower the ship!" exclaimed Mark, who had run back from the tower.
"Close to the earth we may escape the wind!"
"Is it headed toward us?" asked Andy.
"Straight," answered Mark. Jack tried to steer to one side, but the currents of air sucked the ship right back into the path again!
"The captain knew more than we gave him credit for," muttered the hunter. "He heard the storm coming."
The air, that had been so strangely quiet, now vibrated with a curious humming. It seemed to make the whole ship tremble. Then, just as the craft began to settle down, the upward pulling force of the gas being lessened under Washington's manipulations, there came a terrible roaring. The wind howled like a thousand demons seeking to tear the Monarch to pieces.
"It's a regular tornado!" cried Andy.
Then the storm picked the downward-falling ship up as if it had been a feather and tossed the craft into the air. The adventurers were in a sad plight.
There was nothing to be done. The forces of nature were ten times stronger than those of man. To start the engines and try to run the ship out of the grasp of the wind would only mean to strain the craft to a dangerous point. There was but one thing to do, to run before the tornado, as ships on the sea scud before the gale. In this way the airship might be saved, if it was not dashed down to earth.
As soon as this plan manifested itself to be the best one, Washington stopped drawing gas from the bag. He wanted to keep the ship as high as he could. Jack still held his place in the conning tower, but he could do nothing to guide the craft, and it would have been folly to attempt it, so fearful was the force of the wind.