In another instant the Blackbird was all but overwhelmed by a fierce wind while big hailstones fell on the wings with such force that one or two of them ripped through the stout fabric.
The thunder was like the sound of big guns in the ears of the travelers, while the lightning hissed about them in blinding sheets and jagged forks until it seemed a miracle that they were not struck.
“This is awful!” cried Ned. “You’d better take the wheel, Tom!”
Tom thought this himself. He bent his head to the blast and endeavored to ascertain the direction of the storm that he might steer out of it.
Koku did not seem at all afraid. In fact, he always liked a storm, for it seemed to give him a chance to pit his strength against the elements. He laughed and shouted and caught up handfuls of hailstones from his cockpit, throwing them over the side.
“Stop it!” commanded Tom. “We’ve got trouble enough without that. Sit still!” For the giant was moving about so that he endangered the craft, tossed as it was in the furious wind.
However, Tom Swift had not managed aeroplanes several years without learning how to handle them in fair weather and foul, and in a short time he took the Blackbird out of the storm and up above the burst of almost tropical fury.
“Whew!” whistled Tom, when he could relax for a moment. “That was a humdinger!”
“You said it!” echoed Ned. “Do you think we’re damaged any?”
“Can’t tell. It will be best, I think, to make a landing and look ourselves over. It will soon be time to tie up for the night, anyhow, and we might as well go down now.”