# Air Service Boys over the Atlantic/Chapter 22

CHAPTER XXII
WHEN THE ICEBERG ROLLED OVER
Fortunately Tom had everything ready for an immediate start, acting under orders, Jack and Beverly having previously changed the position of the big plane, so that it now faced the run taken when landing.
This brought the wind back of them; but that would be an asset rather than a detriment. They had also gone hastily over the course to make absolutely certain there was no break, or other trap, which might give them serious trouble.
"Jump aboard, both of you!" cried Tom, still keeping his head—a lucky thing, since to get "rattled" in such a crisis might prove fatal.
The beating of the engine and the whirr of the propellers announced that they were off. On the comparatively smooth ice it was easy to make a start unassisted by mechanicians or hostlers.
Jack's heart seemed to be in his throat, and he waited in feverish suspense to learn whether success or failure was to be their fortune. Faster ​now grew their progress, but would the stretch of ice prove a long enough area to give them the necessary momentum?
Every second they expected to hear horrible grinding noises from behind, such as must accompany the toppling over of the berg. Even the splash of waves against the further side of the big ice-floe seemed like the pounding of a monster hammer, at least to Jack's excited imagination.
They were now drawing perilously near the brink. Was Tom ever going to elevate the plane and attempt the rise from the flat surface of the ice?
Just when it seemed to Jack that hope must yield to despair he realized that the jumpy motion of the plane ceased suddenly. He knew what this meant, and that Tom had finally shown his hand, for they no longer bumped along but began to move through space!
Then Jack fell back, breathing freely again. Success had rewarded their efforts, and once more the big bomber was speeding through its own element on the wings of the wind.
But it had indeed been a narrow escape for the adventurous trio; for hardly had they started to swing upward into space when from behind them arose a series of horrible crashings, gurglings, and the mad splashing of water, telling that in ​truth the giant berg had carried out its threat and rolled completely over, playing havoc with the entire floe.
No one spoke immediately. In fact, none of them could have uttered a word, no matter how hard he had tried. In each young heart a feeling of intense gratitude reigned, as well as a sensation of horror, for only too well did they know what their immediate fate must have been had they remained prisoners on the ice but another two minutes.
Tom pointed the nose of the plane directly into the southwest. He even seemed to be getting additional speed out of his motors, as though bent on making up for the lost time.
All of them began to settle down for another long monotonous period with the whole night before them. Far from comfortable might be their situation, but not a single complaint would be heard. All they asked was that things might go on as they were, with the plane reeling off knot after knot of the cruise into the west.
After a while Jack remembered that Tom had had but a bite of supper. Accordingly he got out the supplies and proceeded to serve them. Then he took Tom's place for a while and held the airship true to her course.
They kept about five hundred feet or so above the sea. Somehow it gave them a little encour​agement just to catch the glint of the stars on the tumbling waves below. There was a friendliness in the billows, a something that seemed to keep them in contact with their fellow men; a thing which they missed when passing along two thousand feet or more above the surface of the terrestial globe, even beyond the floating clouds.
So the long vigil was taken up. Hour after hour the giant bomber must wing its swift flight, ever speeding onward into the realm of space through which it was now making a voyage unequalled since Columbus sailed his three high-decked boats into that unknown ocean at the end of which he expected to come to the East Indies.
By turns they managed to get some sleep, each serving his trick as pilot.
The hours grew into early morning. How eagerly did the pilot often turn his tired head to gaze backward toward the east, to see if but the first faint gleam of coming dawn had appeared there. And how joyfully did he welcome it when that desire became reality.
So the unfolding day found them, still heading onward, and with everything promising well. Jack, of course, had his binoculars out as soon as it was possible to see any distance. Shortly afterwards he made an important announcement.
"Smoke head of us, fellows. Much too much ​to come from any one steamer. You can see it with the naked eye, dead on there!"
After taking a good look Tom, who was at the wheel, gave his opinion.
"It might be a vessel afire," he said slowly. "One of those tank-oil steamers would make a fierce smoke, you know. But on the whole I rather believe it's a convoy of troop ships going across to France."
"I never thought of that, Tom!" cried Jack, again clapping the glasses to his eyes; "but I reckon you're right, for I can see funnels of black smoke rising from different quarters. Yes, there must be dozens of boats in that flotilla. What had we better do?"
"Go aloft, and try to keep out of sight among the little clouds," was the immediate reply Tom made. "We could continue to watch, and see all that passed below, at the same time keeping ourselves fairly invisible. They'll hardly be looking up so as to discover a speck floating past. And then again all that smoke is bound to make it difficult for them to see."
He lost no time in commencing a spiral climb for altitude, boring upward with the powerful bomber in a way that was wonderful.
By degrees they attained the height desired, and once again did Tom head Into the southwest. ​Jack reported what he saw from time to time, calling above the noise made by engines and propellers.
"It's a big convoy, all right," he told them. "I can see ever so many steamships following one another in double column. Each is loaded with our boys in khaki, I presume. Then off on either side and ahead are little specks that I can just make out by reason of their smoke streamers. Those must be the score or more of destroyers, guarding the flotilla against U-boat attack. It's a great sight, let me tell you! Here, Colin's getting out his glasses to take a look. Tom, you must have a chance too."
Each in turn managed to survey the stirring spectacle as spread out upon the sea far beneath them. And the pulses of those gallant lads throbbed with pardonable pride when they realized what magnificent efforts America was making to win the war in favor of the Allies, after entering it so late herself.
Gradually the great smoke cloud began to grow more distant, the fleet with its convoy having passed by, continuing to head into the east, where the lurking U-boat would possibly be waiting to attack.
"That was a great sight!" exclaimed Tom, as their attention again turned to possibilities lying before them, rather than what had passed by.
​"Never forget it as long as I live!" Jack declared vehemently.
"It's been a good thing for us in more than one way," Tom went on to say. "You see, personally, I've been just a bit in doubt about our actual bearings; and this has set me straight. I can put my finger on the actual spot on the chart where we'd be likely to meet the fleet. So now we've got to change our course sharply."
"Running more into the south-southwest, you mean, I suppose, Tom?" asked Beverly.
"Just that," continued the acting pilot. "We want to strike the Virginia shore, you understand, and right now we're off Long Island. After several hours on our new course we'll again make a sharp swing into the west, and then look for land!"
"And that land, oh, joy! will be our own America!" cried Jack, his face fairly beaming with expectation.
They kept booming along on the new course for several hours, and as it did not seem necessary to continue at such a great altitude they again descended to the old familiar line of flight, with the sea about five hundred feet below.
"Given another hour," Tom said, along about the middle of the morning, "and it will be time to strike for the west. We must be off Delaware or the tip of Maryland right now. Jack just re​ported a faint glimpse of land, but wasn't sure it might not be a low-hanging cloud bank."
"And now we're in for another experience, I'm afraid," called out Jack, "for there's a nasty sea fog sweeping along from the south. We're bound to drive into it before five minutes more—the first real mist blanket to strike us all the way across."
Jack's prediction proved no idle one, for in less than the time specified they found themselves suddenly enveloped by a dense mantle of mist through which it would have been utterly impossible to have seen anything a hundred feet away.
Tom for one did not like the coming of that fog just when they were about to drew near the land of their hopes. Unlike a vessel, they could not come to anchor and ride it out, waiting for the fog to lift; but must drive on, and desperately strive to find some sort of landing.
"The thickest fog I ever saw!" Jack observed, after they had been passing through the moist gray blanket of mist for some little time.
"Just the usual kind you'll meet with on the sea at times," answered the lieutenant. "I was caught in one when out on the fishing banks, and It wasn't any too pleasant a feeling it gave me either. But for our compass we'd never have reached shore again."
​"And but for the compass right now," said Tom, "it would be next to impossible to steer a straight course."
"One good thing," Jack told them; "very little danger of a collision, such as vessels are likely to encounter in so dense a fog."
"No, the air passage across the Atlantic hasn't become so popular yet that we have to keep blowing a fog horn while sailing," laughed Colin.
All of them were feeling considerably brighter, now that their wonderful venture seemed to be drawing close to a successful termination. If only their luck held good and allowed them to make a safe landing, they felt they would have good reason for gratitude.
"What makes it feel so queer at times?" Jack asked later on. "Why, I seem to have the blood going to my head, just as happened when looping the loop, and hanging too long in stays."
"I've noticed the same thing myself," added Colin briskly, "and tried to figure out the cause. Tom, what do you say about it?"
"A queer situation has arisen, according to my calculation," the pilot told them. "Fact is, without being able to see a solitary thing anywhere about us, above or below, it's often impossible to know when we're sailing on a level keel, or flying upside down!"
"That's a fact," admitted Lieutenant Beverly. ​"When you haven't the slightest thing to guide you, stars, sun, or earth, how can you tell which is up or which is down? We go forward because of the compass; but part of the time I do believe, just as you say, Tom, we've been flying upside-down!"
"I don't fancy this way of flying," Tom announced. "I think it would be better for us to climb in order to see if we can get out of this pea-soup."
"Ditto here!" echoed Jack. "I'm getting dizzy with it all, and my head feels twice as heavy as ordinary. You can't mount any too soon to please me, Tom."
Lieutenant Beverly was not averse, it seemed, so the call became unanimous.
"All we want is to sight land," the Lieutenant remarked. "Then we can start for the interior, and try to pick a nice soft spot for landing without getting all smashed up."
Later on he was reminded of that wish by Jack, for they certainly found such a spot, as future events proved.
By climbing to a considerable height it was found that they could avoid the uncomfortable experiences that had befallen them closer to the surface of the ocean. Here the sun was shining, and while clouds floated around them there was no longer a chance of the plane being inverted.
​Jack could make out land at times, though still faintly seen, and lying low on the uncertain horizon.
"I wonder if that can be Virginia I see?" he sometimes said; but talking more to himself than trying to make the others hear.
"It isn't far away at most, Jack," Beverly assured him; for he sympathized with Jack and the reason the other had for longing to get to the home town ahead of his scheming cousin.
"Show me the chart and just about where we ought to be right now, Tom," said Jack. "That is, if it's no trouble."
"No trouble to do it," came the quick reply, and with a pencil Tom made a cross on the chart while Jack's eyes danced with joy.
"Then that must be Virginia off there to the west!" he cried, again snatching up the glasses for another earnest look.
Tom watched him out of the corner of his eye. Well did he know that as Jack feasted his gaze upon the far distant land in imagination he was seeing that dearly loved home, with the friends who were so precious to him, and in fancy receiving their warm greetings.
They continued on for some little time. Tom felt pretty confident that he was correct, though he would be glad to have some confirmation of his figuring.
​"The fog is thinning some!" he finally stated, "and I think we'd better seek a lower level."
"Might as well," added Beverly, approving of the idea instantly.
"Yes," added Jack, "when the time comes to fly landward we'll want to be down far enough to see where we're going. We needn't be afraid any longer of making a sensation, because seaplanes must be cruising over these waters nearly every day, coming from the station near Fortress Monroe at Hampton Roads."
Accordingly it was not long before they were skirting the upper reaches of the diminishing fog bank, being about a thousand feet or so above the sea itself. Now and then slight rifts appeared in the disappearing mist, and at such intervals it was possible for them to catch fleeting glimpses of the Atlantic, whose wide expanse they had successfully spanned, an event that would make history, if only it could ever be publicly known.
Jack could no longer see the low shore, much to his distress; but then he knew positively it was there, and when the time came to change their course directly into the west a brief flight would carry them over the land.
It really mattered little to him where they made their landing, since he would be able to ​find a way of reaching Bridgeton within a few hours. He consulted his little wrist watch again and again.
Tom was more than a little amused to see Jack even clap it close to his ear. He knew the reason of his doing this, for time was crawling on so slowly in the estimation of the impatient one that he even suspected the faithful little watch had ceased to go, though its steady ticking must have speedily assured him such could not possibly be the case.
"Listen!" Lieutenant Beverly suddenly called out.
A strange weird sound came faintly to their ears. Even above all the noise of their working engine they could make it out. To any one who came from the interior of the country it might have seemed a bewildering sound, and have called up strange fancies connected with marine monsters that were said to have once inhabited these waters near the Gulf Stream.
But the trio of voyagers had lived too long near the coast not to recognize a fog-siren when they heard its strident call.
Jack in particular was exultant.
"Tell me, is that the anchored light-ship's siren, Tom, do you think?" he demanded, with considerable excitement.
​The pilot nodded his head, and with a finger pointed to a dot on the chart to indicate that it could be nothing else.
"I presume, Tom," Jack went on to say, "you came down when you did partly to catch that sound as we came near the shoals where the lightship stands guard day and night the whole year through."
"Well, I had that in mind," came the answer, "for, as I said before, while feeling pretty sure of my bearings I thought I'd like to have them verified. And now you can see I wasn't much out of the way."
"You've done splendidly, Tom," said Beverly, clapping the other heartily on the back. "We've all carried ourselves like true Americans through this whole affair; and it'll afford us considerable satisfaction when we look back on the wonderful trip."
"And now, Tom, hadn't we better turn toward the shore?" asked Jack.
"Just as soon as we get over the lightship I will know how to steer, Jack. Keep cool, and before long you'll be looking down on our beloved Virginia once again."
"You make me mighty happy when you say that, Tom. Many times I've wondered if I'd ever see it again, we've been overseas so long and in so many perils while doing our duty. How ​fine it'll be to stand once more on the soil where both of us were born, and know we've done a pretty big thing in crossing the Atlantic by the new air route!"
They fell silent again after that, but not for long. Louder and clearer came the frequent long-drawn wails of the steam fog-horn, until finally it seemed evident they were almost exactly above the lightship that, as Tom knew, was anchored on the shoals to warn mariners of their danger by means of a far-reaching lamp and the powerful siren's hoarse voice.
"Now we'll strike in for the land!" called out Tom, his announcement causing Jack to thrill with delight, while Beverly too showed his pleasure in broad smiles.
Soon afterwards they were speeding due west, with Jack gluing his eyes to his glasses and reporting every few minutes fresh signs of vast importance. Virginia soon lay beneath them, to announce that they had completed their wonderful flight across the Atlantic.