Chapter XIII: A Viking Air Raid

Between the peril of Helga Redmond, and the mystery of the overlong absence of the Viking scouting party--the five warriors who had been ambushed by Nick Fratelli's crew--there was great uneasiness and considerable activity in the plateau city.

A new and stronger scout patrol was dispatched, its strength greatly augmented by the armed presence of Jones, Murphy, and Little Arty.

Theresa had begged to go; and the request had brought from her hostess, Astrid, the single word "_Valkyr!_" It was pronounced with such horror that Terry blurted hastily to Angus: "Gee, Mr. Selkirk, I ain't that kind of girl, really!"

The young bishop and Angus requested Scarface to remain with them to plan their campaign, and he gladly accepted. He had already decided to add the Norse language to his accomplishments, and Borghild, the beautiful, volunteered to teach him.

So the expedition set forth, and in due course of time came upon the stripped and desecrated bodies of the five Viking dead and of the gangster Scutari. Two of the party were placed on guard, and a runner was dispatched back to the plateau with the news.

A little further on they ran into the pack of hyænodonts that had been following Nick Fratelli and his gang. Five of the dog-beasts they killed, to lay at the feet of the five warriors when given Viking burial, this being the chief use made of these fierce denizens of the woods; in fact, they were protected by Viking law, and not permitted to be slain except for this purpose or in self-defense.

When the runner reached the plateau, there was consternation there. Angus conferred with Scarface.

"We must get word to the scouts at once by glider," announced Angus, "instructing them to locate the gangsters and await reënforcements. Perhaps if we strike suddenly enough, we may overpower Fratelli's crew in spite of their weapons, for they are as yet very few.

"Would you like to make the flight in our new two-seated glider? We plan to drop the note of instructions to the scouting party, then try to locate the enemy from the air, and then drop a second note, informing our scouts of the enemy position. You can write this second note, and your three men, even if they cannot translate it to my troops, can at least lead the way by following your directions."

Scarface was tempted by the thought of Borghild, but the prospect of action, and the novelty of a glider-flight proved too strong, so he gladly assented.

"Of course, in such a long flight, you may be forced down," added Angus, "for these motorless planes are very tricky. But you can reach one of our parties, and have them guard the glider, disassemble it and ship it back."

"How do these things work?" inquired Scarface, now showing much interest; and he added:

"I've read about your flying experiences, but I never could quite figure how you did it. It's all very well to talk about taking advantage of shifts of wind and of every up-current of air, but why don't these shifts and up-currents come upon you too suddenly for you to take advantage of them?"

Angus Selkirk smiled indulgently.

* * * * *

"We've learned a lot since Astrid, Helga, Eric and I built our first gliders out of _skwaa_-skin and split bamboo, when the Skraelings besieged us on this plateau. In those days we trusted largely to luck, and took the air-currents as they came. But since then we have made quite a study of meteorology, and have found that the gusts obey regular rules. By watching the ground and the clouds, we can tell just about what to expect and where to expect it.

"For example, we expect strong up-currents directly under clouds, and diffused down-currents just beyond their edges. We expect up-currents over plains; down-currents over woods, and even stronger ones over water. Near the ground the air is apt to rush in toward woods and water, while at higher levels the drift is just the opposite. If the wind is blowing toward a hill, it rises at the hill; if away, it falls.

"So, by watching the ground and the sky, we know what to expect, and are prepared to take advantage of it. But mostly we have learned the 'feel' of the air. We fight the air automatically, just as a boxer or a fencer fights his opponent."

"Have you any theory to explain these air-currents?" asked Scarface.

"Yes," replied the Scotch Viking. "We think that they are due to the sun's heating the earth unequally, owing to differences in soil. Hot air rises, cold settles. Clouds are warmed by the sun, and their under side remains cool.

"We imagine that these phenomena are much more regular down here than on the outer surface of the earth, due to the fixed position of our central sun. But in both places they probably exist to a much greater extent than is dreamed of. They furnish the only possible explanation of how we are able to soar and gain height on calm days, with scarcely a trace of wind."

"Yes," confirmed Scarface, "I saw in the papers, shortly before leaving the outer earth, that gliders had actually stayed aloft in Germany for over eight hours."

"We have almost equaled that record here," asserted Angus proudly.

This conversation made Scarface all the more anxious to try one of these strange motorless planes.

* * * * *

Scarface said good-by--Angus giving him the words--to Borghild, and warmly pressed her hands He took his automatic and all his 45-caliber clips--his rifle having been loaned to the leader of the reënforcing party. Then the glider was wheeled to the edge of the plateau, he was introduced to the young Viking aviator named Oskar Hiher; the two took their seats, and the machine was pushed off into space.

Oskar proved to be most expert. He slid and circled and spiraled, taking advantage of every shift in wind, every stratum and cross-current of air, always working higher and always tending southward.

In a very few minutes, it seemed, they passed over the sentries guarding the Viking dead, and then passed over the advance party, still pressing on down the trail. The message was dropped, and the glider kept on.

From their height, the Miami was soon spotted in the distance.

"Boat," said Scarface, pointing.

"_Yah, boat_," replied the aviator.

Then reaching into a pouch beside him, he produced several round objects about the size of oranges.

"_Bomma_," said he.

"_Yah_, bombs!" replied Scarface.

There were some things that they could mutually understand, in spite of their difference in language. The two men grinned at each other. Eight hundred years apart in race and customs, and the whole earth's crust apart in environment, nevertheless they were brothers under the skin.

Bombs! This was going to be fun! Scarface reached for one, but his companion shook his head and tapped his forehead. The meaning was plain: Scarface lacked the necessary air experience.

They arrived over the Miami at quite a height. The conference with Altoonah was still in progress, although that gentleman was not in evidence. There were, however, plenty of Skraelings on deck, and their relations with Swede and Friday were evidently friendly.

"_Skraelingna_," announced Oskar, and Scarface began writing his report, stating that Nick and the Skraelings had already contacted, and were probably concocting an alliance.

No one on board seemed to notice the plane. Perhaps they mistook it for a large _skwaa_.

Circling to the southeast, the glider passed over a body of Skraelings on the march toward the coast. Some of these noticed the glider, and soon they were called to the attention of the whole party. This would never do. These savages would get in touch with the Miami, and ambush the Viking foot-parties.

Evidently the same thoughts were simultaneously passing through Oskar's head, for he asked hopefully, "_Bomma?_"

But Scarface shook his head. If they committed no act of hostility against these natives, the report of the natives, on reaching the Miami, would lack certainty as to whether the Vikings suspected their plans.

So Scarface shook his head and said, "_Nein_."

That might not be the proper Viking word for "no," but he had already learned, when in doubt in speaking to a Norseman, to use the German word if he happened to know it.

The plane wheeled back toward the Miami again.

"_Skal yee bomma boaten?_" inquired the young Viking. Scarface sensed his meaning.

Why not bomb the boat? Strike before the alliance was formed. Disable the craft and its defenders, so that it might fall a prey to the scouting expedition, shortly to arrive; put an end to the war before it got fairly started. Why not?

"_Yah!_" shouted Scarface Boston Jimmy.

Down out of the sky swooped the glider with a rush, straight toward the Miami. The Skraelings on deck scattered, perhaps not realizing that this huge man-made bird was not a _skwaa_, but fearing nevertheless the swoop of so large a pterodactyl.

* * * * *

As the glider barely skimmed the roof of the vessel, passing neatly under the aërial, between the masts, one of the orange-like objects was let go. It exploded against the side of the deck house with a loud detonation, laid two of the Skraelings writhing on the deck, and blew a huge hole in the deck house. Consternation reigned on the Miami.

"Too bad it wasn't further fore or aft," thought Jimmy. "Aft, it might have got the engines, and further forward might have disabled the navigating controls."

But how to explain this to the wild Viking at his side, who knew as little of English as he himself did of Norse?

Under the force of its own momentum, the glider climbed abruptly to quite a height, then turned and swooped down again toward the Miami. If there were only some way to explain to the flyer to strike at one of the ends of the ship!

Quite a group were gathering in the bow, and that gave Scarface an idea. His companion might not understand the location of the vulnerable spots in a motor yacht, but he would certainly get the idea of bombing a group of men; so Scarface nudged him and pointed violently toward the group in the bow.

"_Yah!_" said Oskar, and swung the nose of the glider, so as to pass over the men.

In one hand he held his bomb ready to hurl it among them, as he passed over their heads. But he never hurled it.

When he was still at a distance of about two hundred feet, a staccato rattle like that of a pneumatic riveting machine broke out from the bow of the Miami, and a rapid succession of small incandescent spots of light, like silver bees, shot whistling beneath them.

"Up! Up!" shouted Scarface, grabbing the joy-stick in the hand of the astonished Viking, and forcing it back against his chest.

Up soared the glider. But, as if it were a hose-stream being played upon them, up too rose the trail of silver bees deliberately to meet them; and, when it met them, the Viking collapsed with a gurgle in his seat.

Scarface still held the stick, and he clung to it like grim death. He felt a tap on the side of his chest, then a warm tingling feeling there, and then a trickle down his side, but still he held on.

He passed beyond the Miami, but the clatter of the machine gun continued. Up, up, soared the glider, into a stall, and then a sideslip. Scarface tried to get his feet past the dead body of his companion and onto the foot-controls, to right her. He failed to reach them, but his efforts somehow shifted the weight and accomplished the desired result, for the craft righted and swung southward.

He now pushed the stick gingerly forward, so as to secure a gentle descent, and thus put as much distance as possible between his enemies and himself. Things were going beautifully. In spite of his lack of control of the stabilizer, the glider for some reason kept an even keel. The sound of the machine gun was fading away in the distance.

Scarface was just congratulating himself on his beginner's luck as an aviator, when the plane suddenly without warning went into a spiral nose dive and plunged into the sea.