Jackals of the Clouds

Auckland Star, Volume LXVII, Issue 151, 27 June 1936, Page 8 (Supplement)

Jackals of the Clouds

CHAPTER XVIII. 11l turn, Eric shook hands with the remaining seven pilots of Lauvignac's squadron. Eaeli one ™ave him grip for gi'ip and ninrinured words of encouragement. Vorsatz was the last, and lie said: "You'll come through this, Howard! ] know you will, if you can find the yellow streak in Sinzerberg!" "You're sure the streak exists?" laughed Eric. "I'll swear it does!" replied Vorsatz. Out on the aerodrome, whilst 'the crowd of watchers stood in tense excitement. Lauvignac called Eric and Sinzerberg together. "You both fully understand the conditions of this fight," he said, crisply. "You will engage—at 15,000 ft —the signal for battle being a red Verey light fired from the cockpit of Sclia mil verge's machine." Eric and Sinzerberg nodded their understanding. "Then to your machines," said Lauvignac, "and, remember, this fight is .to the finish!" Two minutes later both Eric and Sinzerberg were in the cockpits of their fighting scouts. There came the shattering roar of powerful aero engines, then the black machine of Sinzerberg shot forward across the aerodrome to take the air in a steep upward climb. Eric followed hard on his tail, and as the boy's red fighting scout lifted into the air there came a thunderous cheer from Lauvignac's men. "Yes, shout, you weevils!" snarled Scliaumvorge, in the cockpit of his machine. "You'll have something to shout about before long!" The thunder of his engine drowned the words as he gave his bus the throttle and tore across the aerodrome to take the air in the wake of the two principals in this strange and bitter duel. Another roar of cheering went up as Lauvignac's rakish-looking scout took ofT; then there settled a strange and uneasy silence whilst anxious eyes watched those four machines climbing—climbing—up into the grey sky of the Tibetan morning. To the Death. At 15,000 ft, Eric and Sinzerberg flattened out and circled widely whilst Lauvignac and Scliaumvorge continued their climb to 10,000 ft. Apart from a stiffness in his now healed shoulder, Eric felt fit enough. Crouched over his controls, he kept watchful eye on the still climbing Scliaumvorge; and now and again on the black machine of Sinzerberg, wheeling like a buzzard, quarter of a mile away.

By GEORGE E. ROCHESTER,

Then suddenly from Scliaumvorge's cockpit there floated downwards the signal for battle—a red Verey light. Kicking on rudder, Eric swung his machine towards Sinzerberg, who was already coming at him with a whirlwind rush, firing as he came. Eric's fingers were curled round the trigger of his synchronised gun, hut he held his lire and forward went his control stick to take him downwards in a thundering nose-dive. He roared right under Sinzerberg's machine, then back came the stick and he went soaring up in a wild zoom. At the very top of the zoom lie whipped the stick across and executed a perfect linmelmann turn. Forward went the control stick and he tore down straight towards the wildly wheeling Sinzerberg. His fingers were clamped tightly round the trigger of the synchronised gun. The cartridge belt was whirling madly through the chamber and hot flame from the lurid, belching gun muzzle licked back almost beyond the cockpit windshield. Sinzerberg sensed the death which was roaring down ou his tail. _ He took his machine earthwards in a wild twisting dive which severely tested every flying wire and strut. But only for seconds did he hold that dive before yanking back the control stick to go zooming up into the grey of the sky above him. Eric followed, sticking to him like a leech, but Sinzerberg had already rolled, and. pulling a sharp wing turn, drove straight in at the boy, his gun spewing flame and a deadly stream of steel-coated bullets. Eric's dashboard was riven as though by an invisible axe. He saw, as he glanced wildly outboards, the inner starboard strut splinter, the white wood showing vividly beneath the varnish. Instinctively lie threw his machine into a spin, and in that moment something like a red hot iron seared his scalp. Sinzerberg, wolfish, snarling, saw the leather-clad form of the boy lurch drunkenly forward across his controls. He released the pressure on the trigger of his synchronised gun, and, pushing the control stick forward, went earthwards in the wake of the red scout which was spinning to destruction on the rocky heights below. "Got you, you swine!" he mouthed, triumphantly, and laughed aloud. But only momentary was the dizziness caused by the bullet which had seared Eric's scalp. The rush of cold air served to sweep the clogging nausea from his brain. He was spinning, but he had plenty of height yet. From behind his goggles as he jay sprawled across the controls he

had a glimpse of Sinzerbcrg circling: round him. His groping fingers closed on tin: throttle. Then, reaching out behind him, lie hauled himself back into his seat, and, kicking oil rudder to counteract and pull him out of the spin, he gave the scout full throttle. With a thunderous roar of highpowered engine the gallant little machine came swooping out of the spin and, turning 011 the climb, tore straight in towards the circling Sinzerbcrg with synchronised gun aflame. Sinzerbcrg banked wildly but his lower port plane was riven a full 18 inches and three flying wires were streaming loosely in the slip-stream of his whirling propeller. By superb and brilliant piloting he pulled clear from the stream of bullets from the red scout then, wheeling, whipped forward his control stick and thundered down on Eric, who had fallen out of his climb in a tail slide. Sinzerberg's face was livid behind his leather face mask. The last few seconds had been a close call for him and he knew it. With engine thundering at full revolutions, he roared towards the red scout, which, with nose down, was tearing earthwards for the requisite speed to bring it far tip into the grey sky in a soaring zoom. Eric glanced over his shoulder and saw the black pirate hurtling after him. He liul one split second in which to act before lie was either thot through the hack by a stream of bullets from Sinzerberg's gun or had his tail planes and rudder control wires shot to ribbons. He kicked on sharp rudder, pulling back his stick. With a jerk which sent him sagging wildly against the side of the cockpit, the little scout whipped outwards in a whirlwind turn, and, in that instant, Sinzerbcrg thundered past. It was Eric's chance, and he took it with the instinct of the true fighting pilot. Back went the rudder bar and forward and across went the stick. Then full 011 Sinzerberg's tail lie roared, his synchronised gun snarling a staccato accompaniment to the thunder of the powerful engine. My masters, there was 110 question then of a- miss. The range was too short for that. Every steel-coated bullet from Eric's gun was whanging into the vitals of the black pirate scout. In a frenzy, Sinzerbcrg banked, his nose down. Even then his machine was reeling drunkenly and his face was grey with the fear of the death which he knew was behind him. Eric's foot moved a fraction of an inch on the rudder bar and his gun raked the black scout from engine cowling to tail plane. He had a vision of Sinzerbcrg sprawled limply across his controls. Then, as the black scout fell away into a spin, a tongue of flame licked back from the riven petrol tank. Eric pelea%ed the pressure on the trigger of his gun and flattened out. Banking, lie looked down. Sinzerberg's machine was hurtling earthwards engulfed in a shroud of flame surmounted by a thick pall of blackeddying smoke. "It was a great fight. Ma foi, but I never saw a better."

Thus, Lauvignac, seated at the table ill the pilots' ante-room. With him were the blue-clad members of his squadron. Day was almost done, and outside the grey dusk of the Tibetan night was creeping in over Phantom aerodrome softening the gaunt outline of the encircling cliffs. From the outer cave came sounds of high revelry and raucous laughter. For iiad it not been a day of days, my masters? Had not the new comrade triumphed in a duel to the death over one who was the very pick of Schanni vorge's lighting pilots?— Sehaumvorge who had come suing for an alliance and who had been sent empty-handed away. And the fight was on. Bitter indeed now was the feud between the rival pirate leaders. Ah, yes, there were stirring times ahead. But there was 110 squadron like Lauvignac's. Nay, that there was not! And drinking mugs crashed on tables and voices roared in drunken acclaim. Lauvignac raised his head to listen, a smile 011 his thin, firm lips. "My faithful wolves!" he murmured, and there was more than a hint of mockery in his voice. "Ah, how they gave tongue when Sinzerbcrg went down in flames." "I wonder what the thoughts of Sehaumvorge were in that moment," remarked Vorsatz. "He lost one vfho was, I think, the most brilliant pilot lie has ever had." Lauvignac nodded. "He left vowing dire vengeance against us all—Howard and me in particular. But I care not that for the gross Sehaumvorge, nor for the black-robed hounds of Buddha!" He snapped his fingers contemptuously. "Before many days have passed," he resumed harshly, "I shall raid the stronghold of that bearded pig and burn his hangar to the ground." "Where is his stronghold?" cut in Eric. Lauvignac looked at him, sharply. "I will tell you, Howard," he replied. "It lies amidst bleak and barren hills l--< rd by the Phembu Pass north of Lhasa." Vorsatz leaned forward across the table. "Why not strike to-night, Lauvignac?" "lie demanded, eagerly. "Four machines will be sufficient —" "No, not to-night, Vorsatz, my friend," cut in Lauvignac, softly. "For to-night I raid the monastery of Pollikar Ohio!" The name conveyed nothing to Eric, but the other pilots tensed and Vorsatz repeated, sharply: "Pollikar Chio?" "Yes, Pollikar Chio," affirmed Lauvignac. "I will take with me one pilot and Chelyak, the Tomo, who knows the country well." "But it is the most zealously guarded' monastery in the whole of this cursed country," protested Vorsatz, "and strange and terrible tales are told of the devil's work which goes 011 within its walls!" "And why is it the most zealously guarded?" —Lauvignac took him up quickly—"Because there is treasure there beyond the wildest dreams of man. Ah, my comrades, rich fruit for the picking!" (To be continued.)