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The captain looked at Ben. "There may be something in that idea. What do you
say to a scout around? I'll let you or one of your people go as an observer."
"Tickled to death," Ben replied. "We never got beyond the upper part of the
city ourselves. The dodos were too dangerous. I'd like to find out what it's
all about."
"How about me?" offered Gloria.
"Nothing doing, kid, you get left this time. If those birds get after us we
may land in the bay with a bump and I don't want this party to lose its little
sunshine."
"Up anchor!" came the command. "Revolutions for ten knots speed. I'm going to
head down the bay," he explained to the colonists. "If anything happens I want
to have sea-room, particularly if they try bombing us."
Fifteen minutes later, with the
Brisbane running into the morning land-breeze in an ocean smooth as glass, the
catapult let go and Ben and the pilot a lad whose cheeks must have been rosy
before the comet but were now a vivid blue were shot into the air.
Beneath them the panorama of New York harbor lay spread more silent than it
had been at any
day since Hendrick Hudson brought his high-pooped galleys into it. As they
rose Ben could make out the line of the river, shining through the pearly haze
like a silver ribbon.
The towers of the city tilted, then swung toward them as the aviator swept
down nearer for an examination. Everything seemed normal save at the north and
east, where a faint smoky mist still lingered over the buildings they had
occupied. Of birds or of other human occupation than their own there was no
slightest sign.
A faint shout was borne to his ears above the roar of the motor and he saw the
pilot motioning toward a set of earphones.
"What do you say, old chap?' asked the pilot when he had clamped them on.
"What direction shall we explore?"
Ben glanced down and around. The cruiser seemed to hang in the water, a tiny
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droplet of foam at her bow the only sign she was still in motion. "Let's go up
the Hudson," he suggested. "They seemed to come from that direction."
"Check," called the pilot, manipulating his controls. The airplane climbed,
swung and went on. They were over Yonkers. Ben could see a river steamer at
the dock, where she had made her last halt.
"Throw in that switch ahead of you," came through the earphones. "The one
marked RF. That's the radiophone for communicating with the ship. We may need
it."
"Okay," said Ben. "Hello ... Yes, this is Ruby in the plane. Nothing to
report. Everything serene.
We're going to explore further up the river."
In the distance the Catskills loomed before them, blue and proud. Ben felt a
touch on his back and looked round. The pilot evidently wished to say
something else. He cut in and heard, "What's that off on the left right in the
mountains? No, there."
Following the indicated direction Ben saw something like a scar on the
projecting hillside not one of the ancient rocks but a fresh cut on the earth
as though a wide spot had been denuded of vegetation.
"I don't know," he answered. "Never saw it before. Shall we go see? . . .
Hello, Brisbane.
Ruby reporting. There is a mysterious clearing in the Catskills. We are
investigating."
CHAPTER VIII
THE DODOS ARE BOMBING
THE bare area seemed to run all down a long valley and spread out as it
rounded the crest of a hill which hid what lay behind it from their view. As
they watched a grey speck that might have been an ant at that height and
distance lumbered slowly down the valley. Then Ben noticed a tiny flicker of
red light, so bright as to be clearly visible even in the day, where the grey
speck moved against the hillside. A door seemed to open in the hillside.
Focusing the glasses the aviator handed him he could just make out square
bulky object that a trundled forth. And then one two three four five of the
huge dodo-tetrapteryx birds shot out, poised for a moment, leaped into flight.
"Hello, Brisbane,"
called Ben into the radiophone. "Five dodos have taken off from the cutting in
the hills. I think they are after us. Better turn back this way and get ready
for trouble."
The aviator, understanding without being warned, had turned the plane. Ben
swung round to look over his shoulder. The dodos were already some yards in
the air. Behind them the bulky object was running slowly out of the opening in
the hillside. It had the appearance of a very long flexible cannon. As he held
his glasses on it it stopped, straightened out and the muzzle was elevated in
their direction.
"Dive!"
he shouted suddenly into the voice tube, entirely on impulse.
The plane banked sharply and seemed to drop straight down. At the same
instant, right through the spot where they had just passed, shot a beam of
light so brilliant that it outshone the morning sun. There was a roar louder
than that of the motor. The plane pitched and heaved in the disturbed air and
the light-beam went off as suddenly as it had snapped on.
"Didn't I tell you those babies were poison?" he remarked. "Boy, if that ever
hit us!"
"What was it?" asked the aviator.
"Don't know but it was something terrible. Let's head for home and mamma. I
don't care about this."
The plane reeled as the pilot handled the controls. The light-beam shot out
again, just to one side this time. Out of the corner of his eye Ben could see
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one of the birds gaining on them!
"How do you work this machine-gun?" he asked. '
"Just squeeze the trigger. Look out!
I'm going to dive her again."
With a roar the light-beam let go a third time. Ben saw the edge of it graze
their right wingtip. The
airplane swung wildly round and down, the pilot fighting for control.
The earth seemed to rush up to meet them, tumbling, topsy-turvy. Ben noted a
warped black spot where the beam had touched the wingtip, then, surprisingly,
they were flying along, level with the surface of the Hudson beneath them and
hardly a hundred feet up.
"That was close," came the aviator's voice, shaky with relief. "I thought they
had us that time. That's quite a ray they have."
"It sure is one first-class heller," agreed Ben. "Are you far enough down to
duck it now?"
"I think so unless they can put it through the hills or chase us with it. Do
you suppose those dodos thought that up themselves?"
"Can't tell. They're right on their toes though. Look!" He pointed up and
back. Silhouetted against the sky they could see three of them, flying in
formation like airplanes. "Can we make it?"
"I'm giving the old bus all she'll stand. The
Brisbane will come toward us though. Wait till those guys get going. They'll
find we can take a trick or two."
Yonkers again. Ben looked anxiously over his shoulder. The three silhouettes
were a trifle nearer. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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