"I haven't the least idea," responded Tom. "It's an island, but which one, or where it is I don't know. We were blown nearly two thousand miles, I judge."

He walked over and surveyed the wreck. Now that the excitement was over he was beginning to be aware of numerous bruises and contusions, His legs felt rather queer, and on rolling up his trousers he found there was a deep cut in the right shin, just below his knee. It was bleeding, but he bandaged it with a spare handkerchief, and walked on.

Peering about, he saw that nearly the whole of the machinery in the engine room, including most of the electrical apparatus, had fallen bodily through the floor, and now rested on the sand.

"That looks to be in pretty good shape." mused Tom, "but it's a question whether it will ever be any good to us. We can't rebuild the airship here, that's certain."

He walked about the wreck, and then returned to his friends. Mr.

Damon was more like himself, and Mr. Fenwick had discovered that he had only minor bruises.

"Bless my coffee cup!" exclaimed Mr. Damon. "I declare, I feel hungry. I wonder if there's anything left to eat in the wreck?"

"Plenty," spoke Tom, cheerfully. "I'll get it out. I can eat a sandwich or too myself, and perhaps I can set up the gasolene stove, and cook something."

As the young inventor was returning to the wreck, he was halted halfway by a curious trembling feeling. At first he thought it was a weakness of his legs, caused by his cut, but a moment later he realized with a curious, sickening sensation that it was the ground--the island itself--that was shaking and trembling.

The lad turned back. Mr. Damon and Mr. Fenwick were staring after him with fear showing on their faces.

"What was that?" cried the inventor.

"Bless my gizzard! Did you feel that, Tom?" cried Mr. Damon. "The whole place is shaking!"

Indeed, there was a stronger tremor now, and it was accompanied by a low, rumbling sound, like distant thunder. The adventurers were swaying to and fro.

Suddenly they were tossed to the ground by a swaying motion, and not far off a great crack opened in the earth. The roaring, rumbling sound increased in volume.

"An earthquake! It's an earthquake!" cried Tom. "We're in the midst of an earthquake!"

CHAPTER XIV

A NIGHT IN CAMP

The rumbling and roaring continued for perhaps two minutes, during which time the castaways found it impossible to stand, for the island was shaking under their feet with a sickening motion. Off to one side there was a great fissure in the earth, and, frightened as he was, Tom looked to see if it was extending in their direction.

If it was, or if a crack opened near them, they might be precipitated into some bottomless abyss, or into the depths of the sea. But the fissure did not increase in length or breadth, and, presently the rumbling, roaring sound subsided. The island grew quiet and the airship travelers rose to their feet.

"Bless my very existence! What happened?" cried Mr. Damon.

"It was an earthquake; wasn't it, Tom?" asked Mr. Fenwick.

"It sure was," agreed the young inventor. "Rather a hard one, too. I hope we don't have any more."

"Do you think there is any likelihood of it?" demanded Mr. Damon.

"Bless my pocketbook! If I thought so I'd leave at once."

"Where would you go?" inquired Tom, looking out across the tumbling ocean, which had hardly had a chance to subside from the gale, ere it was again set in a turmoil by the earth-tremor.

"That's so--there isn't a place to escape to," went on the eccentric man, with something like a groan. "We are in a bad place--do you think there'll be more quakes, Tom?"

"It's hard to say. I don't know where we are, and this island may be something like j.a.pan, subject to quakes, or it may be that this one is merely a spasmodic tremor. Perhaps the great storm which brought us here was part of the disturbance of nature which ended up with the earthquake. We may have no more."

"And there may be one at any time," added Mr. Fenwick.

"Yes," a.s.sented Tom.

"Then let's get ready for it," proposed Mr. Damon. "Let's take all the precautions possible."

"There aren't any to take," declared Tom. "All we can do is to wait until the shocks come--if any more do come, which I hope won't happen, and then we must do the best we can."

"Oh, dear me! Bless my fingernails!" cried Mr. Damon, wringing his hands. "This is worse than falling in an airship! There you do have SOME chance. Here you haven't any."

"Oh, it may not be so bad," Tom cried to rea.s.sure him. "This may have been the first shock in a hundred years, and there may never be another."

But, as he looked around on the island, he noted evidences that it was of volcanic origin, and his heart misgave him, for he knew that such islands, created suddenly by a submarine upheaval, might just as suddenly be destroyed by an earthquake, or by sinking into the ocean. It was not a pleasant thought--it was like living over a mine, that might explode at any moment. But there was no help for it.

Tom tried to a.s.sume a cheerfulness he did not feel. He realized that, in spite of his youth, both Mr. Damon and Mr. Fenwick rather depended on him, for Tom was a lad of no ordinary attainments, and had a fund of scientific knowledge. He resolved to do his best to avoid making his two companions worry.

"Let's get it off our minds," suggested the lad, after a while. "We were going to get something to eat. Suppose we carry out that program. My appet.i.te wasn't spoiled by the shock."

"I declare mine wasn't either," said Mr. Damon, "but I can't forget it easily. It's the first earthquake I was ever in."

He watched Tom as the latter advanced once more toward the wreck of the airship, and noticed that the lad limped, for his right leg had been cut when the WHIZZER had fallen to earth.

"What's the matter, Tom; were you hurt in the quake?" asked the eccentric man.

"No--no," Tom hastened to a.s.sure him. "I just got a b.u.mp in the fall--that's all. It isn't anything. If you and Mr. Fenwick want to get out some food from the wrecked store room I'll see if I can haul out the gasolene stove from the airship. Perhaps we can use it to make some coffee."

By delving in about the wreck, Tom was able to get out the gasolene stove. It was broken, but two of the five burners were in commission, and could be used. Water, and gasolene for use in the airship, was carried in steel tanks. Some of these had been split open by the crash, but there was one cask of water left, and three of gasolene, insuring plenty of the liquid fuel. As for the water, Tom hoped to be able to find a spring on the island.

In the meanwhile, Mr. Damon and Mr. Fenwick had been investigating the contents of the storeroom. There was a large supply of food, much larger than would have been needed, even on a two weeks' trip in the air, and the inventor of the WHIZZER hardly knew why he had put so much aboard.

"But if we have to stay here long, it may come in handy," observed Tom, with a grim smile.

"Why; do you think we WILL be here long?" asked Mr. Damon.

The young inventor shrugged his shoulders.

"There is no telling," he said. "If a pa.s.sing steamer happens to see us, we may be taken off to-day or to-morrow. If not we may be here a week, or--" Tom did not finish. He stood in a listening att.i.tude.

There was a rumbling sound, and the earth seemed again to tremble.

Then there came a great splash in the water at the foot of a tall, rugged cliff about a quarter of a mile away. A great piece of the precipice had fallen into the ocean.

"I thought that was another earthquake coming," said Mr. Damon, with an air of relief.