s. Here and there, between the patches of white cloud, they
caught glimpses of the ultramarine sea, thousands of feet below them.

It was so cold up here, even with the windows closed, that all the boys
were shivering in their warmest wraps. The air, too, was so rarefied
that it was with considerable difficulty that they could breathe, for
they had been in it for some time. Not one flyer in a hundred can live
at an altitude of twenty thousand feet, as he bleeds at the nose and
mouth; and our aviators were up to within five thousand feet of that
height. It was now time to descend.

John shut off both engines, and they began to volplane down in a great
stillness, sailing like an immense hawk. Lower and lower they
went--fourteen, thirteen, twelve, eleven, ten thousand feet. Now they
were gliding through clear, thin air; now cutting a hole through a
heavy cloud so impregnated with moisture that it sweat over the glass
and the boys would have to wipe a sleeve across hastily to improve the
vision. Eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two!

That was low enough. All this time the propeller had been spinning
from the rush of air alone. Now John threw in the clutch; the
revolving propeller shaft grabbed the crankshaft of the engine, and
once more it began its rhythmic purr. Just a little upthrust of the
tail-elevators and ailerons brought them again into the horizontal in a
huge swoop. Nothing could have been prettier. They had escaped the
terrible tornado, leaving it still galloping westward far behind them,
and were once more in normal position for continuing their flight
toward the goal!

Below them, for miles around, they could once more see the ocean
uninterruptedly. Its mountainous waves and deep gorges of a short time
previous had probably swallowed up many an unlucky ship that morning;
but its temper was expended, and all it could do now was to sulk in
long, even billows which every moment became flatter and flatter.

How had their rivals fared? This question was in the minds of every
one of our flyers as the Sky-Bird continued swiftly on her course. In
their hearts was a vague feeling that perhaps Pete Deveaux and his
crowd might not have come out of the storm as lucky as they, for not
one airplane out of a score could have outlived it. Their own escape
had been almost miraculous. But for the good generalship of John they
surely would have met with mishap.

So now, as they went along, a sharp look