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The gigantic shadow of the Eagle of the Sky began to slide athwart the hill-side streets to south-eastward of the Haram; and so, away. Up came the nacelle through the trap. The davit swung it to one side; the trap was slammed down and bolted. Out of the nacelle tumbled the major, pale as he had formerly been red, his face all drawn with grief and pain. "The damned Moslem swine!" he panted.
Such as had fallen with their eyes in the direction of the nacelle, could see what was going on; the others could only judge of this incredible desecration by what they could hear. The sound of foreign voices, speaking an unbelievers' tongue in the very shadow of the Ka'aba, must have been supremely horrible to every Mohammedan there.
Major Bohannan and Lieutenant Leclair, are your crews ready for the descent?" "Yes, sir," the major answered. "Oui, mon capitaine," replied the Frenchman. "Tools all ready? Machine-guns installed? Yes? Very well. Open the trap, now, and swing the nacelle by the electric crane and winch. Right! Steady!" The yells of rage and hate from below were all this time increasing in volume and savagery.
It was a day when five reporters had gathered, and Carl felt very much in the limelight, waiting in the nacelle of the machine for the time to start. The propeller was revolved, Carl drew a long breath and stuck up his hand and the engine stopped. He was relieved. It had seemed a terrific responsibility to go up alone. He wouldn't, now, not for a minute or two. He knew that he had been afraid.
There must be plenty of water there. We should take water, eh?" "Right!" the Master answered. He got up and turned to Bohannan. "Major," commanded he, "have Simonds and a crew of six stand by, in the lower gallery, to descend in the nacelle. Rrisa is to go. They will need him, to interpret.
"I can permit no such madness on my flying ground, and no such discourtesy to my pupils." I beckoned the head mechanician. "You will at once remove to a hangar the biplane of Monsieur Power," I told him, "and disconnect the ignition. Should he attempt to enter the nacelle again, you will cause him to evacuate it in march time and three movements!"
Excitement thrilled his romantic soul at thought that he was one of the very first white men in the world ever to behold that strange, ancient building. The Golden Waterspout was plainly visible, gleaming in the sun a massive trough of pure metal, its value quite incalculable. Now the Ka'aba was close; now the nacelle slowed, beside it, in the shadow of its grim blackness.
The guns in the nacelle, too, were chattering; the Haram filled itself with a wild turmoil; the scene beggared any attempt at description, there under the blistering ardor of the Arabian sun. All at once Dr. Lombardo inserted the blade of the pick under the golden spout, pried hard, bent it upward.
He stamped it down again with his boot-heel, dropped the pick and grappled it with both straining hands. By main force he wrenched it up almost at right angles. He gave another pull, snapped it short off, dragged it to the parapet of the Ka'aba, and with a frantic effort swung it, hurled it into the nacelle. Down sank the basket, a little, under this new weight.
In her keeping lay three things more sacred than all else to Mohammedan hearts Kaukab el Durri, the Great Pearl Star; Ha jar el As wad, the Black Stone; and Myzab, the Golden Waterspout. Awed, silenced, the Legionaries stood there in the lower gallery, peering into the blood-stained nacelle.
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