Chapter XVI: In Deadly Peril

"Lie low, fellows!" shouted Slim Tyler as the engine broke into a roar.

A cloud of arrows that came from the bows of the natives emphasized the injunction. Some buried themselves in the side of the plane. Others whizzed over the heads of the three young aviators, crouched low behind their defenses. Had they not been as quick in ducking as they had, some or all of them would certainly have been struck.

One of the fleetest of the natives reached the side of the plane before it had fully gathered speed. He grabbed the edge and tried to climb in.

Dick's fist launched out and caught the fellow a tremendous blow in the jaw. The clutching hands loosened and the savage fell back to the ground.

"Plucky beggar!" muttered Dick. "But I'll bet he's lost a few of his teeth."

The _Hope_ was now in full swing and zooming down the field at high speed.

"Let's hope she doesn't strike a stump or something," muttered Jerry between his teeth. "I'd not like to be dumped into that yelling crowd."

"Here we go," said the young pilot as he lifted the plane into the air. "They'd have to have wings to get at us now."

Up and up they soared until they were safely beyond the reach of the arrows. Only then did they dare to breathe.

"I'd like to take a pot shot at them," muttered Jerry vengefully. "Look at the way they're all crowded together down there! We couldn't help winging some of them."

"I don't think we'd better," counseled the leader of the expedition. "Hardly seems sporting when the poor beggars haven't a chance to get back at us."

"They gave me a lot of a chance, didn't they, when they nicked my ear with that arrow?" grumbled Jerry. "Anyway, let's give them a scare and send down a few flares."

"That's all right," assented Slim, and a moment later four flares went hissing down into the crowd.

The dazzling lights illumined the scene and showed the fright on the throng of dark faces as the mysterious flares neared the ground. To their untutored minds, it seemed, perhaps, that the white men had plucked the stars from the skies and were hurling them down upon them.

With wild yells of terror, the Indians broke and scurried like rabbits to the shelter of the woods.

"Got that much out of them, anyway," chuckled Jerry, in high glee. "Doesn't pay for my ear, but it helps."

In a few minutes they had left the ill-omened camping place far behind and the _Hope_ was roaring swiftly toward the north.

Jerry got out the medicine kit and Dick bathed the wounded ear in iodine. Luckily, the wound was slight, although it was painful enough to keep Jerry constantly reminded of his narrow escape.

"No monotony on this trip, anyway," he remarked later, when an abundant meal had put him and his companions at peace with the world. "First wolves, then Indians. Fate is certainly handing us some heavy jolts. I wonder what will come next?"

"For goodness' sake, don't start worrying about that," Dick Mylert adjured him. "It'll be bad enough when it comes. I'm so thankful now that my scalp isn't drying at some Indian's belt that I'm not inclined to kick about anything--especially anything that hasn't yet happened."

"What about the skis, Slim?" asked Jerry. "It's too bad we couldn't have finished that job while we were about it."

"It sure was," agreed Slim Tyler thoughtfully. "What makes it worse is that we're getting near the coast and will soon be over the water. Then it will be too late to change to the skis before we reach Greenland. Of course we could wait at the coast till morning before we make another attempt to put on the skis. That is, if we think that it's got to be done by daylight. But if you fellows are game, we'll take a chance and go down now and do it as well as we can in the dark. Only this time," he added, with a grin, "we'll choose a place where there are no woods in sight."

"You bet your life!" exclaimed Mylert, with fervor.

"That goes for me, too," echoed Jerry, instinctively reaching for his ear. "But how are we going to find a landing place in the dark?"

"It won't be dark long," replied the young pilot. "The moon will rise in about an hour. I'll fly low and we'll try to find some level place. When we think we've found it, we'll drop some flares to make sure it's all right, and if it is I'll go down."

"Rather risky, don't you think?" asked Dick dubiously.

"A little, but not so much," replied Slim. "You see it's this way. I judge that we'll be at the coast about midnight. Now, if we have to hover about there till daylight to fix the skis, we'll have lost half a dozen hours or so, while if we have them fixed by the time we reach the water, we can keep right on and fly all night. Time is so precious now that I don't want to lose an hour of it that I don't have to. Savvy?"

"I guess you're right," conceded Dick. "Anyway, I'm just a passenger and I don't want to do any back seat driving. Anything that you decide on goes with me."

An hour passed and the moon arose and flooded all that wild world with glory.

Under any other circumstances the flyers would have reveled in the beauty of the scene. But just now the moon was to be admired, not for itself, but for the help that it might be to them in discovering a suitable landing field.

They descried such a place half an hour later. Like all the district over which they had been flying that day, it was covered with a hard crust of snow that had been so beaten upon by the bitter winds that it was packed almost to the consistency of ice.

Taking every precaution, Slim Tyler let the plane down to a successful landing. The moon shining on the snow made everything almost as light as day. There were no woods within sight and nothing else that could possibly shelter an enemy.

Under these conditions the changes they had in mind were easily made. Skis were substituted for the wheels and the latter carefully packed away for future use. In less than an hour everything was in readiness for the resumption of their flight.

They were delighted to find that the skis worked to a charm. When the young pilot started the engines the plane darted along on the runners like a thing of life and soared into the air like a bird.

It had been more or less in the nature of an experiment, for neither Slim Tyler nor Jerry Marbury had ever used skis before. So they were relieved beyond measure when the first test proved successful.

For in the place to which they were going there was practically nothing but ice. The whole of Greenland, except in some strips along the shore and certain other places where weather conditions were unusual, was covered with a solid ice cap. Wheels would be at a discount in that frozen region. Skis were almost indispensable.

So that it was with a feeling of intense elation that they flew on over the desolate wastes of Labrador and approached the shore of Davis Straits, on the other side of which lay Greenland.

Slim gave the _Hope_ full throttle, and at about midnight, as he had predicted, the water came in view.

The flyers heard it before they saw it. A thunderous roar blended with the song of the motors. It was the roar of breakers dashing against the rocky shores.

"How does it sound, fellows?" asked Slim, turning toward his companions with a grin.

"Rather fierce, if you ask me," returned Dick.

"As though it were daring us to come on," put in Jerry.

"Well, we're going to accept the challenge," declared Slim, as the raging waves came into full view. "Say good-by to the land, fellows, for it will be a long time before you see land again."

There was a curious feeling in the hearts of all as they said farewell to the American continental mass. Land meant home. It was associated with every experience of their lives. It was secure, stable, solid. While flying over it they had the comfortable feeling that, if anything went wrong, they could come down to safety.

But the ocean, cruel, remorseless, uncaring for human life or pain--that was different.

Now, if they came down, they would come down to death!