



Produced by Mary Wampler, Juliet Sutherland, Charles
Aldarondo, Charles Franks and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team.











ON A TORN-AWAY WORLD

Or

The Captives of the Great Earthquake

BY ROY ROCKWOOD






Other titles by ROY ROCKWOOD

THE GREAT MARVEL SERIES

THROUGH THE AIR TO THE NORTH POLE

UNDER THE OCEAN TO THE SOUTH POLE

FIVE THOUSAND MILES UNDERGROUND

THROUGH SPACE TO MARS

LOST ON THE MOON

ON A TORN-AWAY WORLD

DAVE DASHAWAY, THE YOUNG AVIATOR

DAVE DASHAWAY AND HIS HYDROPLANE

DAVE DASHAWAY AND HIS GIANT AIRSHIP

DAVE DASHAWAY AROUND THE WORLD

THE SPEEDWELL BOYS ON MOTOR CYCLES

THE SPEEDWELL BOYS AND THEIR RACING AUTO

THE SPEEDWELL BOYS AND THEIR POWER LAUNCH

THE SPEEDWELL BOYS IN A SUBMARINE







CONTENTS



I.      SHOT INTO THE AIR!

II.     MARK HANGS ON

III.    THIS FLIGHT OF THE "SNOWBIRD"
IV.     "WHO GOES THERE?"

V.      BETWEEN TWO PERILS

VI.     ON THE WINGS OF THE WIND

VII.    DROPPED FROM THE SKY

VIII.   PHINEAS ROEBACH, OIL HUNTER

IX.     THE EARTHQUAKE

X.      THE BLACK DAY

XI.     THE WONDERFUL LEAP

XII.    THE GEYSER

XIII.   NATURE GONE MAD

XIV.    ON THE WING AGAIN

XV.     A PLUNGE TO THE ICE

XVI.    PROFESSOR HENDERSON REVEALS THE TRUTH

XVII.   ON AN ISLAND IN THE AIR

XVIII.  IMPRISONED IN THE ICE

XIX.    A NIGHT ATTACK

XX.     THE HEROISM OF THE SHANGHAI ROOSTER

XXI.    MARK ON GUARD

XXII.   THE WOLF TRAIL

XXIII.  THE FIGHT AT ALEUKAN

XXIV.   THE FLIGHT TOWARD THE COAST

XXV.    THE HERD of KADIAKS

XXVI.   THE ABANDONED CITY

XXVII.  THE WHALE HUNT ASHORE

XXVIII. ON THE WHALING BARK

XXIX.   WHEN THE SEA ROLLED BACK

XXX.    AN ENDURING MONUMENT--CONCLUSION





CHAPTER I


SHOT INTO THE AIR

"Hurrah!" shouted Jack Darrow, flicking the final drops of lacquer
from the paintbrush he had been using. "That's the last stroke. She's
finished!"

"I guess we've done all we can to her before her trial trip," admitted
his chum, Mark Sampson, but in a less confident tone.

"You don't see anything wrong with her, old croaker; do you?" demanded
Jack, laughing as usual.

"'The proof of the pudding is in the eating thereof; not in chewing
the pudding bag string'," quoted Mark, still with a serious countenance.

But like Jack he stood off from the great body of the wonderful airship,
and looked the completed task over with some satisfaction. Having
emergency wings, she was also a plane. She was white all over and her
name was the _Snowbird_. Jack and Mark had spent most of their time
during this vacation from their college in building this flying machine,
which was veritably an up-to-the-minute aerial vehicle, built for both
speed and carrying capacity.

The hangar in which the machine had been built was connected with
Professor Amos Henderson's laboratory and workshop, hidden away on a
lonely point on the seacoast, about ten miles from the town of Easton,
Maine. At this spot had been built many wonderful things--mainly the
inventions of the boys' friend and protector, Professor Henderson; but
the _Snowbird_, upon which Jack and Mark now gazed so proudly, was
altogether the boys' own work.

The sliding door of the hangar opened just behind the two boys and a
black face appeared.

"Is eeder ob you boys seen ma Shanghai rooster?" queried the black
man, plaintively. "I suah can't fin' him nowhars."

"What did you let him out of his coop for?" demanded Mark. "You're
always bothering us about that rooster, Washington. He is as elusive
as the Fourth Dimension."

"I dunno wot dat fourth condension is, Massa Mark; but dat rooster is
suah some conclusive. When I lets him out fo' an airin' he hikes right
straight fo' some farmer's hen-yard, an' den I haster hunt fo' him."

"When you see him starting on his rambles, Wash, why don't you call
him back?" demanded Jack Darrow, chuckling. "If I did, Massa Jack,
I'spect he wouldn't know I was a-hollerin' fo' him."

"How's that? Doesn't he know his name?"

"I don't fo' suah know wedder he does or not," returned the darkey,
scratching his head "Ye see, it's a suah 'nuff longitudinous name, an'
I dunno wedder he remembers it all, or not."

"He's got a bad memory; has he?" said Mark, turning to smile at
Washington White, too, for Professor Henderson's old servant usually
afforded the boys much amusement.

"Dunno 'bout his memory," grunted Wash; "he's gotter good forgettery,
suah 'nuff. Leastways, when he starts off on one o' dese
perambulationaries ob his, he fergits ter come back."

"Let's see," said Jack, nudging his chum, "what _is_ that
longitudinous' name which has been hitched onto that wonderful bird,
Wash? I know it begins with the discovery of America and wanders down
through the ages to the present day; but a part of it has slipped my
memory--or, perhaps I should say, 'forgettery'."

With a perfectly serious face the darkey declaimed:

  "Christopher Columbus Amerigo Vespucci
  George Washington Abraham Lincoln Ulysses
  Grant Garibaldi Thomas Edison Guglielmo Marconi
  Butts."

"For goodness sake! Will you listen to that!" gasped Mark, while Jack
went off into a roar of laughter.

"Don't--don't it make your jaw ache to say it, Wash?" cried the older
lad when he could speak.

"Not a-tall! not a-tall!" rejoined the darkey, shaking his woolly head.
"I has practised all ma life speakin' de berry longest words in de
English language--"

"And mispronouncing them," giggled Jack.

"Mebbe, Massa Jack, mebbe!" agreed Washington, briskly. "But de copy
book say dat it is better to have tried an' failed dan nebber to have
tried at all."

"And did you ever try calling the rooster back, when he starts to play
truant, with all that mouthful of words?" queried the amused Mark.

"Yes, indeedy," said Washington, seriously.

"Don't he mind, then?"

"I should think he'd be struck motionless in his tracks," chuckled
Jack.

"No, sah," said Washington. "Dat's de only fault I kin fin' with dat
name--it don't 'pear to stop him. An' befo' I kin git it all out he's
ginerally out ob sight!"

That sent both boys off into another paroxysm of laughter. Meanwhile
the darkey had come into the great shed and was slowly walking around
the flying machine. "What do you think of her, Wash, now that she's
finished?" asked Mark.

"Is she done done?" queried the darkey, wonderingly.

"She certainly is," agreed Jack.

"De chile is bawn and done named Nebbercudsneezer, heh? Well! well!"

"No; it's named the _Snowbird_," Mark retorted. "And to-morrow
morning, bright and early, we shall sail on its trial trip. The
professor is going with us, Washington. Of course, you will come, too?"

"Lawsy me! don't see how I kin!" stammered Washington White, who always
wished to be considered very brave, but who was really as timid as a
hare. "Yo' see, Massa Mark, I'spect I shall be right busy."

"What will you be busy at?" demanded Jack.

"Well--well, sah," said Wash, "if dat Shanghai don't come back befo',
I shall hab ter go snoopin' aroun' de kentry a-huntin' fo' him. He'll
be crowin' 'bout sun-up, an' he suah can't disguise his crow."

"If Andy was here, he would surely want to go with us," declared Jack
to Mark. "Andy Sudds isn't afraid of anything."

"My! my!" cried Washington. "Yo' don't fo' one moment suppose, Massa
Jack, dat I's afeared; does yo'?" "No, you're not afraid, Wash,"
returned Jack, chuckling. "You're only scared to death. But you go
ahead and hunt your rooster. See that you keep him from flying too
high, however, or we'll run him down in the _Snowbird_."

"Pshaw!" said Mark. "That rooster is so fat he couldn't fly
high, anyway."

"And perhaps the _Snowbird_ won't fly very high; eh?" retorted Jack,
letting a little anxiety creep into his voice.

"But dat rooster suah _kin_ fly high," said Washington White, eagerly.
"Yo' gemmens knows dat he's flowed as high as de moon--he, he!"

"And 'flowed' is a mighty good word, Wash," chuckled Jack. "Ah! here
is the professor, Mark."

Professor Henderson was an aged man with snow white hair and beard.
Although he was not physically as strong as he once was, his brain and
energy were not in the least impaired by advancing years. He had taken
the two lads, Jack Darrow and Mark Sampson, both orphans, under his
care some years before, and under his tuition and by his aid they were
much farther advanced in knowledge of the practical sciences than other
boys of their age.

The professor welcomed them cordially and at their request gave a
thorough scrutiny to the various mechanical contrivances that went to
the make-up of the flying machine. He pronounced it, as far as could
be known before a practical test, a perfect mechanism.

"And we will try it to-morrow morning, boys," he said, with almost as
much enthusiasm as Jack and Mark themselves displayed. "You have
completed the machine in excellent time, and I 'un likewise ready to
make the experiment."

"What experiment, Professor?" asked the boys in chorus.

"Haven't you noticed what I was tinkering on at the other end of the
shop?" queried Professor Henderson, in surprise.

"Why, I see that you have a long steel plank there, with some kind of
a compressed air contrivance at one end," said Jack.

"Is that what you mean, Professor?" queried Mark.

"That, boys," said the scientist, with some pride, "is a modern
catapult--an up-to-the-minute catapult which, had it been known to the
ancients, would have enabled the hosts of Joshua, for instance, to
batter down the walls of Jericho without the trouble of marching so
many times around the city."

"And what has a compressed air catapult got to do with the
_Snowbird_?" queried Jack. "You propose launching your flying machine in
the usual way," said the professor. "I see you have wheel trucks all
ready to slip under her. We will not use those wheels, boys. I have a
better plan. We will launch the _Snowbird_ into the air from my
catapult."

"Great goodness, Professor!" cried Mark. "Is that practicable?"

"We'll know after we have tried it," retorted Professor Henderson,
drily.

"How did you happen to start working on this catapult idea?" asked
Jack.

"Well, I can't tell you everything," replied the inventor, "for it is
partly a secret."

"Huh," laughed Mark. "You're mysterious. You haven't joined forces
with some department of our government, or with another country?"

The professor smiled, thinking how keen this young man always proved
himself to be.

"You've guessed it," he replied. "And I'm sorry I can't explain more
to you."

"We understand," said Jack. "And no doubt this machine is a
super-catapult."

"True," was the answer. "Of untold use to the scientific world. For
the present I shall confine testing its efficiency right in this place.
Now is my chance."

"But of what advantage will it be to our flying machine to start it
in this way?" "Stop and think, my boy," said the professor. "Just as
an aeroplane can literally be shot into the air within a very short
space, so can your airship. Of course, this is not necessary, but we
will be able to start the ship much faster that way than we could
withjust the motors."

"You'll make history, Professor," added Jack. "Exciting headlines for
the papers."

"Sure enough," said Mark enthusiastically.

"The publicity doesn't interest me," replied the scientist. "Moreover,
my super-catapult must remain a secret, as I told you a while ago."

"So you really propose to launch the _Snowbird_ in this way?" asked
Jack.

"We will be shot into the air. If you are sure of your machine, I am
sure of my catapult, and we will try the two contrivances together."

In the morning all rose bright and early and prepared the _Snowbird_ for
her trial flight. Washington White had indeed disappeared--possibly in
search of his Shanghai rooster--and Andy Sudds was off on a hunt.
Therefore the professor and his two young comrades essayed the trip
alone.

Jack and Mark tossed a coin to see who should first guide the great
air machine, and Mark won the preference. He, as well as his chum and
the professor, had already donned their aeronautic uniforms, and he
now strapped himself into the pilot's seat. The steering apparatus,
the levers that controlled the planes, and the motor switch were all
under his hand. While in flight the _Snowbird_ need be under the
control of but one person at a time.

The professor had rigged his catapult so that he could release the
trigger from the flying machine. Mark said he was ready; the professor
reached for the cord which would release the trigger.

"Start your motor, Mark, a fraction of a second before I release the
compressed air," commanded Mr. Henderson. "Now!"

The motor of the flying machine buzzed faintly. Jack's eyes were on
the speed indicator. He suddenly felt the great, quivering flying
machine, which had been run out of the hangar on to the steel plank
of the catapult, lurch forward. The feeling affected him just as the
sudden dropping of an elevator from a great height affects its
passengers.

The finger of the speed indicator whirled and marked forty miles an
hour ere the flying machine left the steel plank, and shot into the
air with the fearful force of the compressed air behind it.

Both Mark and Jack were well used to guiding aeroplanes and other air
machines. But this start from the ground was much different from the
easy, swooping flight of an airship as usually begun. Like an arrow
the _Snowbird_ was shot upward on a long slant. It was a moment
ere Mark got the controls to working. The propellers were, of course,
started with the first stroke of the motor.

But Mark Sampson was nervous; there was no denying that. At the instant
when the nose of the airship should have been raised, so as to clear
the tops of the forest trees and every building on the Henderson place,
Mark instead guided the rapidly flying _Snowbird_ far to the left.

It skimmed the corner of the stable by a fraction of a foot, and Jack
yelled:

"Look out!"

His cry made Mark even more nervous. The tall water-tank and windmill
were right in line. Before the young aviator could swerve the flying
machine to escape the vane upon the roof of the tower, and the long
arms of the mill, they were right upon these things!

The fast-shooting _Snowbird_ was jarred through all her members; but she
tore loose. And then, in erratic leaps and bounds, she kept on across
the fields and woods towards Easton, never rising very high, but
occasionally sinking so that she trailed across the treetops,
threatening the whole party with death and the flying machine itself
with destruction, at every jump.




CHAPTER II

MARK HANGS ON


Professor Henderson and his adopted sons--Jack Darrow and Mark
Sampson--had been in many perilous situations together. Neither one
nor the other was likely to display panic at the present juncture,
although the flying _Snowbird_ was playing a gigantic game of
"leap