The Denison review. [volume] (Denison, Iowa) 1867-current, 1911-03-22

pinpricks Of fire. He had never beef
so high before, had been content t
sweep the tree tops. TO the left
bearded scimetar Of light, merged b.
blackness, marked the bay. Daun
swung parallel with this. Pst-pst-
pst-pst. The wind tore in gusts thrl
the structure, the planes vibrating, thu
guys humming like the strings OF 81
gantic harp. His clothing dragged a
: his body. He was too high; he Leaned
over the mass of levers and the Gid
er slid down a long, steep descent
till in the starlight he could see the
blue-gray blur of roofs, the masset
shadows of little parks OF trees. NOW
he was passing the edge OF the CIT!
now below him was the gloom OF the
rice fields. A low sobbing sound came
in the wind; it was the bubbling Choir
us of the frogs, and across it he heard
the bark of peasants dog.
To the right dark hill doomed With
out warning, with a dim congeries OF
red tea-houses. It was the famous
Ikegami the shrine Of the Buddhist
saint Ichiren, famed for it's plum gar,
dens. ItSfell away behind, and now
far off, a score of miles ahead, grew
upon the horizon, misty blotch OF
radiance. Yokohama! He sWerved,
heading out across the lagoon, straight
as the bee flies for the shimmering
spot. Faster and faster spat the tiny
explosions. The Glider throbbed and
sang like a thing alive, and the hum
of the propeller shrilled into scream.
Tokyo was far behind now, the pale
glow ahead rising and spreading. To
the right he could see the dumped
lights of the villages along the rail
road, Kamata-Kawasaki
He dropped still lower, out of the lash
of the wind.
| Suddenly flying missile struck the
forward plane, which resounded like a
great drum. A drop of something red
| fell on his bare hand and a feathered
body fell like stone between his
feet. A dark carpet, dotted with
foam, seemed to spring up out OF the
gulf. Daunt threw himself at the
levers and rammed them back. The
Glider had almost touched the sea-
for heartbreaking instant he thought
it could never rise. He heard the
curl of the waves, and a cry from be-
hind him. Then, slowly, slowly
breasting the blast, it came stagger.
ing up the hill of air to safety.
The sky was perceptibly Tightening
now. Daunt realized it with tighten.
ing of all his muscles. 1t was the
first tentative withdrawal of the
forces of the dark. Should he be in
time? With his free hand he loosen.
ed the coil of the grapnel. Suddenly
the chances seemed all against sue.
cess. A feeling of hopelessness
caught him. He thought of the two
men he had left behind, waiting wait
ing. What message would come to
them that morning?
The engine was doing it's best,
every fiber of tested steel and canvas
ringing and throbbing. But the creep
ing pallor of the night grew apace.
Kanagawa-the Glider swooped above
it, left it behind. The misty glow
was all around now, lights pricked up
through the shadow. Yokohama was
under his feet, and ahead-the darker
mass toward which he was hurtling
was the Bluff
Slowly, with painful anxiety, he
swung the huge float in to skirt the
cliffs seward edge. There was the
naval hospital with it's flag staff. There
beyond was the familiar break in the
rampant of fOliage-and there, flap
ping in the wind, was the awning on
the fiat roof of the ROost. In the
dawning twilight it seemed mon
strous, leprous lichen, shuddering at
the unholy thing it hid. Daunt threw
out the grapnel.
He curved sharply in, aslant to the
wind, flung down his prov and then
swooped upon it. There was tear
ing, splintering complaint of canvas
and bamboo; the Glider seemed to
stop, to tremble, then leaped on. Turn
ing his head, Daunt saw the awning
disappear like collapsed kite. He
caught glimpse, on the steep, ascend
ing roadway, of a handful of naked
men running staggeringly, one strag-
gler far behind. The thought flashed
through his mind that these were the
cadets from the naval college. But
they would be too late! The sun was
coming too swiftly. The sky was a
tide of amethyst-the dawn was very
near! He came about in a wide loop
that took him out over the bay, max
ing the turn with the wind. For a