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Dave Dashaway Around the World

<h2 id='chapXVII' class='c009'>CHAPTER XVII</h2> <div class='nf-center-c0'> <div class='nf-center c002'> <div>A GRATEFUL FRIEND</div> </div></div> The oncoming night in the dreary solitude with which the young airmen were environed seemed filled with alarms. All three listened intently. At a further distance away than at the first, the renewed howling of the wolves broke forth. The pack seemed to have chanced upon some new trail of prey. “Why,” Hiram was the first to break the thrilling silence, “do you hear that, fellows?” “Sleigh bells!” cried Elmer, instantly. “Yes, and I hear the neighing of horses,” added our hero. “More than one. Listen!” Muffled yet unmistakable, the sound of sleigh bells jangling sharply broke upon the air. There followed loud echoing neighs. Then there rose a sudden scream. “Oh, Dave!” gasped Hiram, “it was a human voice! A man’s scream, I’ll wager! There it is again!” “One of you keep with me,” shouted Dave, in an urgent tone. “This way!” 126Seizing the reflector lantern, the young aviator dashed along the arcade. It was Hiram who first heeded his order. He had grabbed up the heaviest club at hand. At the end of the arcade Dave halted for a moment, confused by the blinding snow eddies and the dim obscurity. “That way, straight ahead,” panted the wrought up Hiram, as another wild scream rang out. It was mingled with the echoes of the sleigh bells in quite another direction. It was mixed with the baying and howls of the wolves nearer at hand. The pilot of the Comet dashed on. The snow was deep and clogging. Hiram labored at his heels. The eye of light showed nothing until they had gone nearly fifty feet. Then its rays illumined a startling picture. Upon the snow, lying upon heavy fur robes, was a man. Supporting himself upon one elbow, he was slashing about him with a short, horn-handled, thick-bladed knife. Around him more than a dozen wolves were seeking to spring upon and disable him. The minute the light dazzled the ravenous pack, they drew away, baffled. The rescued man was clad in heavy furs. His cap, the gloves he wore, his whole equipment indicated comfort and wealth. He seemed to take in the situation at a glance. As he struggled to his feet, a motion of his hand showed deep gratitude. 127He shuddered as he bent his ear to catch the retreating bayings of the wolves. Just a faint echo of the sleigh bells was now audible. A look of satisfaction came into the man’s face as he discovered this. He spoke some words in a language the young airmen could not understand. Dave pointed to the campfire, and the man bowed. Then Hiram helped him pick up the scattered sleigh robes. Dave leading the way, all hands started for the arcade. “Who is he?” whispered the curious Elmer to Hiram, as the trio came within the radius of the cheery blaze he had built up with great armfuls of wood. “Russian, I guess,” replied Hiram. “He can’t tell us, though, for we don’t understand him.” “Did the wolves attack him?” “It looks that way. I think the horses got frightened and ran away. They seemed to have tipped him and the sleigh robes over into the snow. I tell you, we reached him just in time, or those hungry brutes would have had him.” The rescued man came up to the fire, removing his gloves and extending his chilled hands towards the grateful blaze. One coat sleeve had been ripped from end to end in his encounter 128with the wolves, his face bore a deep scratch. Otherwise he seemed uninjured from his recent thrilling experience. He glanced strangely and then with interest at the three boys in turn. He stared hard as his eye fell upon the biplane. His glance lingered upon it in a puzzled, studious way. Finally he turned to its pilot, and extended his hands upwards, as if imitating a bird flying. Dave nodded. Then the man spoke. From the deep gutterals, mingled long drawn out words and “skis.” Dave decided that he was speaking in the Russian tongue, and shook his head. More mellow and natural sounding, some words followed which Dave took to be French. He smiled, but showed that he did not yet understand. “It is English, then?” spoke the man, with very fair pronunciation. “Yes, English—American,” replied Dave, pleased to be understood. “We stopped our airship here on account of the storm.” “It is so?” answered the man. “A few versts further, and you would have reached the station. That is Mokiva. I am the superintendent. You shall come there to share the best I have. You have saved my poor life.” 129And then quite solemnly the man went the rounds. He shook each of his young friends by the hand, looking them steadily in the eyes. Hiram hurried up the meal, got some hot coffee ready, and passed it around. It warmed up, and acted as an excellent accompaniment to some canned pork and beans, some toasted cheese, and plenty of crackers. The glow of the fire was penetrating and comforting. They were seated on the thick, heavy robes. Hiram was quite jolly over their pleasant situation. The rescued man had to talk slowly and pick his words to make them understand him. He told them that his name was Adrianoffski. He was a trader, and lived at Mokiva, about twelve miles distant. He had been at another station across country, and had started to return home, not dreaming that he could not reach it before dark. The unexpected snowstorm had overtaken him, and the wolves had gotten after the sleigh. The tragic climax had been averted by the prompt action of Dave Dashaway. It more than compensated the boys for their trouble as they got better acquainted with the man. It seemed that he had agents, friends, and trading stations, all through Russia and in several Asiatic countries. With some of these he only exchanged goods, while others he owned. 130At the end of two hours the interested young airmen had learned more of real geography right on the spot than they had ever picked up at school. The storm let up finally. An adverse wind, however, had set in. “I hardly think we had better risk the hard work and danger of a run to-night,” our hero advised his helpers. “We are fairly comfortable here.” “That’s right,” assented Elmer, who had been enjoying it immensely, writing up his “log.” “We’ll have great fun when we get home in some snug and cozy corner, telling our friends of what a real snowstorm is.” “There’s something!” exclaimed Dave, suddenly, starting up from his resting place on the robes. “Why, it’s another sleigh!” cried Hiram. “If they see our fire, whoever is coming, we will have some more company.” “Ah, it is well,” broke in Adrianoffski, his eyes brightening. “I much thought they would seek me.” The speaker reached inside his heavy coat and drew out a whistle, and proceeded to blow on this. It was so small that the boys were fairly amazed at the shrill, clear, far-reaching sound it made. The Russian sent out a dozen or more calls. They seemed timed to some rhythmic signal, for as the boys listened there was a response. 131Going to the end of the arcade, they noticed lights approaching. These outlined three horses attached to a sleigh bearing lamps. The vehicle came directly up to them and halted. Two men leaped from the sleigh and approached their employer with pleased words. “My horses ran home, as I thought they would,” Adrianoffski explained to the boys, after conversing with his servants in their native dialect. “My people at once started out to find me. Ah, this is excellent. You shall partake of the best at Mokiva this night.” “We would be glad to go with you,” said Dave, “but we dare not leave our machine unguarded.” “Unguarded?” repeated the Russian with forcefulness. “My friends, you know not the fidelity of these, my people. They shall remain here all night, and your airship shall be guarded as though it were pure gold. Fear nothing, these men are trusty and tried.” A thought of all Adrianoffski might tell them of practical details of their route ahead, induced the young airman to agree to his wishes. He made sure that the Russian instructed his servants as to due watchfulness in their vigil. It was understood that they should be brought back 132to the camp very early in the morning. Then the boys, muffled up in cold-defying fur robes, took a real bracing Russian sleigh ride. They found that the station comprised two large warehouses. In one of these Adrianoffski had his living quarters. They were comfortable, even luxurious. Nothing would do but that another meal should be served. Then the host of the airship boys took them to his office and library combined. Our hero had explained at the camp on the steppe about their proposed race around the world. Adrianoffski was deeply interested. He had a large globe showing the world, and he made Dave indicate the route they had come, and the proposed one ahead. In turn, with considerable pride he showed red crosses he had made in red ink all over European and Asiatic Russia, Persia, Turkey and Northern Africa. “I have learned something of many languages and peoples,” he said. “As you see, I have posts or stations all over this part of the world. You saved my life. Let me direct you to good friends, who will surely cherish you for that kindly act.” Dave passed his finger over that part of the globe marked Thibet. For a long time he questioned the trader. 133“There is a wonderful city there, called Lhassa,” observed the young airman. “You know of it?” “I know of it,” assented Adrianoffski—“ah, well, indeed. It is here, a few versts only from Lhassa, that my trusted partner, Ben Mahanond Adasse, has his great depot. He trades solely in Thibet. You would go there?” “To Lhassa, yes,” answered Dave. “Impossible!” exclaimed the Russian, with almost startling force. “My son, you know not what you say. Lhassa—it is the city of mystery, the sacred metropolis of the tried and chosen. For an outsider to appear at its gates is capture—life imprisonment. For a foreigner to penetrate to its secret recesses, is sure death.” “But your partner, this Ben Mahanond Adasse?” questioned the young aviator, “I could visit him without risk?” “With certain welcome,” promptly responded Adrianoffski. “He is powerful, he is favored. He could protect you. But go no further than his home, lest you go to your doom. As to my partner—see, I give you a talisman, a token.” The Russian removed from his finger a large seal ring, and pressed it into the hand of Dave Dashaway. 134 <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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