As for Professor and Madame Oshima, they seemed equally unruffled about the proposed journey, and not at all inclined to elucidate the mystery. Experience had taught the younger woman that when information was not offered it was unwise to ask questions, so when the Professor busied himself with much ransacking of his pamphlets and papers and his wife became equally occupied with overhauling the family wardrobe and getting the children off to their grandmother's, Ethel accepted unquestionably the statement that she would be limited to twenty kilograms of clothing and ten kilograms of other personal effects, and lent a.s.sistance as best she could to the enterprise in hand.

On the third day the little party, with their light luggage boarded a train for Hakodate, at which point they arrived at noon. Hurrying along the docks among others burdened like themselves, they came to a great low-lying, turtle-topped warship; and, pa.s.sing down a gangway, entered the brilliantly lighted interior.

The constant flood of new pa.s.sengers came, not in mixed and motley groups, as the ordinary crowd of pa.s.sengers, but by two, male and female, as the unclean beasts into the ark. And they were all young in years and athletic in frame--the very cream and flower of the race.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Every few seconds an aeroplane shot into the air and joined the endless winged line.]

Late that evening the vessel steamed out of port, and during the next two days was joined by a host of other war craft, and the great squadron moved in orderly procession to the eastward.

One point, that Ethel soon discovered was that, in addition to being excellent physical specimens, all the men, and many of the women, were proficient as aviators. Of these facts life on board bore ample evidence, for the great fan ventilated gymnasium was the most conspicuous part of the ship's equipment and here in regular drills and in free willed disportive exercise those on board kept themselves from stagnation during the idleness of the voyage. Into this gymnasium work Ethel entered with great gusto, for there was a revelation in the discovery of her own physical capabilities that surprised and fascinated her.

In the other chief interest of her fellow pa.s.sengers, Ethel was an apt pupil, for though woefully ignorant of aviation, she was eager to learn. She spent many hours in the company of Professor or Madame Oshima, studying aeroplane construction and operation from the displayed mechanisms on board. In fact, they found the great roomy hold of the ship was packed with aeroplane parts. Small gasoline turbines were stored in crates by the hundreds; also wings and rudders knocked down and laid flat against each other and still lower down in the framework of the floating palace were vast stores of gasoline.

At the end of two weeks the j.a.panese squadron was in lat.i.tude 34 north, longitude 125 west, and headed directly for the Los Angeles district of Southern California--the richest and most densely populated area of the United States.

One evening, just at dark, after they had been in sight of the American aerial scouts all day, the j.a.panese fleet changed its course and turned sharply to the southward. Now Panama was six days'

steaming from Los Angeles and less than three days from New Orleans.

So the authorities at Washington ordered all warships and available soldiers on the Gulf Coast to embark for the Isthmus.

Meanwhile there was much going on beneath the armor plate of the j.a.panese transports, and on the fourth day of their southward movement the great trap doors were swung down and aeroplane parts were run out on the tramways, the planes rapidly set up by skilled workmen, and firmly hooked to the floor. Above and below deck they stood in great rows like lines of automobiles in a garage.

Towards sundown the forward planes were manned and in quick succession shot down the runways and took to the air. Ethel and her companions were below air the time and hardly knew what was going on. Their luggage had been taken up some time ago, except for an extra kima, which they had been ordered to put on. In their turn they were now called out and ordered to go above, that is, the names of the men were called and Ethel knew that she was listed as Madame Komoru, a thing that made her shiver every time it was brought to her attention.

An exclamation or astonishment escaped the lips of the more impulsive American girl as she came on deck; for as far as the eye could see the gray flat tops of the war vessels were covered with the drab-winged planes, while every few seconds a plane shot into the air and joined an endless winged line that stretched away to the northeast.

"Komoru eighty-five: Oshima eighty-six."

The intent of that command was clear and Ethel was soon settled immediately behind the young secretary in the little bamboo car of a j.a.panese plane-of-war.

The propeller started with a shrill musical hum; they raced down the runway; dipped for a second toward the water; rose, and sailed swiftly up and on toward the dark line of Mexico, that lay in the evening shadow cast by the curved surface of the Pacific Ocean.

(To be continued.)

PART TWO.

In the Clutch of the War-G.o.d

THE TALE OF THE ORIENT'S INVASION OF THE OCCIDENT, AS CHRONICLED IN THE HUMANICULTURE SOCIETY'S "NOTES ON THE TWENTIETH CENTURY".

By Milo Hastings

Synopsis of Previous Installment: In the year 1958, Ethel Calvert, a daughter of an American grain-merchant, residing in j.a.pan, because of her father's death in an anti-foreign riot, is forced to take refuge with Madame Oshima, the French wife of a j.a.panese scientist. She becomes accustomed to the mode of living followed by the j.a.panese, and is finally persuaded to adopt the costume of the land of her exile. War is declared between j.a.pan and the United States, and Professor Oshima, and Komoru, his Secretary, together with Madame Oshima and Ethel Calvert, sail for United States in a j.a.panese war vessel. When near the Pacific Coast, the many men and women who have been pa.s.sengers on the vessel, leave the ship by means of aeroplanes, and sail eastwardly over Southern California.

The air cut by Ethel's face at a ninety-mile gait, and she gripped nervously at the hand-rails of the car. Then, regaining confidence, she began to drink in the novel view about her. Ahead were the drab-winged aeroplanes growing smaller and smaller until they became mere specks against the darkening sky. She turned to the rear and watched the myriads of humans, like birds, rising from the transports that still lay in the sunshine. There were literally thousands of them. She wondered if human eyes had ever before witnessed so marvelous a sight.

They had come over the mainland of Mexico now and were flying at a height of about half a mile. Shrouded in the tropical twilight, the landscape below was but dimly discernible. As the darkness came on, Ethel discovered that a small light glowed from the side of the car in front of the driver. Gripping the hand-rail, she made bold to raise herself; and, stopping beneath the searchlight and machine-gun that hung, one beneath the other, on swivels in the center of the framework, she peered forward over Komoru's shoulder.

The taciturn steersman turned and smiled but said nothing. Ethel noted carefully the equipment of the driver's box. It was a duplicate throughout of the dummy steering gear with which she had practiced in the ship's gymnasium. One conspicuous addition, however, was an object illuminated by the small glow lamp that had attracted her attention. This proved to be chart or map mounted at either end on short rollers. As the girl watched it, she perceived that it moved slowly. A red line was drawn across the map and hovering over this was the tip of a metal pointer. A compa.s.s and a watch were mounted at one side of the chart case.

Ethel watched the chart creep back on its rollers and reasoned that the pointer indicated the location of the aeroplane. She wondered how the movement of the chart was regulated with that of the plane.

Finally she decided to ask Komoru.

"By the landmarks and the time," he said. "Do you see that blue coming in on the northeast corner of the map?"

"Yes."

"Well, watch it."

After a few minutes of waiting the words "_Gulf of Mexico_" rolled out upon the chart. "Why, that can't be," said Ethel, "we just left the Pacific Ocean."

"But we have crossed the Isthmus of Tehauntepec," replied Komoru; "it is only a hundred miles wide."

His companion looked over the side of the car and to the front and.

to the right, she could see by the perfectly flat horizon that they were approaching water.

"The map is unrolling too fast," said Komoru, as the pointer stood over the edge of the indicated water--and he pushed back the little lever on the clock mechanism that rolled the chart. "We have a little head wind," he added.

Ethel resumed her seat and sat musing for a half hour or so. Komoru looked around and called to her.

"Look over to your left," he said. "The lights of Vera Cruz. We are making better time now," he added, again adjusting the regulator on the clock work.

The driver contemplated his compa.s.s carefully and shifted his course a few points to the right. Ethel settled in her bamboo cage and pulled her aviation cap down tightly to shield her face and ears from the wind pressure.

For hours they sat so--the girl's heart throbbing with awe, wonder and fear; the man unemotional and silent, a steady, firm hand on the wheel, his feet on the engine controls and his goggled eyes glancing critically at compa.s.s or watch or out into the starlit waste of the night, disturbed only by the whirl and shadow of other planes which with varying speed pa.s.sed or were pa.s.sed, as the aerial host rushed onward. There were only small tail lights, one above and one below the main plane, to warn following drivers against collision.

With her head bent low upon her knees, Ethel at length fell into a doze. She was aroused by Komoru's calling, and straightening up with a start, she arose and leaned forward over the driver. Komoru was looking intently at the scroll chart. In a moment she designed the cause of his interest, for there had rolled across the forward surface of the chart the outline of a coast.

In the far left-hand corner was marked the city of Galveston, and to the right was the Sabine River that forms the boundary between Texas and Louisiana. Ethel raised her eyes from the map and looked far out to the Northwest. Sure enough, she discerned the lights of a city at the point where Galveston was indicated by the chart.

"How far have we come?" she asked in astonishment.

"Eight hundred miles," replied Komoru. "See, it is nearly two-thirty. The first men with the faster planes were to have arrived at one o'clock."

A little later they pa.s.sed over the dimly discernible coast line, some thirty or forty miles to the east of Galveston. Komoru carefully consulted his compa.s.s, watch and aneroid, and made a slight change in his course.