ced ahead. Nothing could be seen but a wall of white. The wind
increased until it blew with almost the force of a cyclone, and the ship
swayed fearfully.

"Stop the engines!" cried the professor. "We had better drift than run
the chances of hitting an iceberg if we should suddenly take a drop down
to the ground."

Washington, awakened from his sleep, turned off the power. Then began a
fight between the ship and the elements; a battle between the _Monarch_
and the wind and snow. Which was to win?

The airship was, apparently, in the heart of the storm. It was tossed
this way and that, now up and now down, though because of the quantity
of gas in the bag the craft was buoyed up. The gas generating machine
had not been stopped, only the machinery that moved the propeller.

How the wind howled! How the snow blew! It was a blinding storm, for
from the windows of the conning tower and from those on either side of
the cabin nothing could be discerned five feet away. Through the window
in the bottom of the ship nothing showed but a sea of white flakes.

The cold was intense, seventy degrees below zero being marked on the
thermometer. Even with the gasolene stoves going it was chilling inside
the airship, for the cutting, biting wind found many cracks through
which to enter.

But, if the propeller no longer urged the ship on, the force of the wind
sent it ahead at a fearful pace. The gale careened the _Monarch_ from
side to side. Now the bow would be elevated, and, again, the stern. It
was like a ship on a rough sea, and the occupants of the craft were
tossed from side to side, receiving many bruises.

Old Andy was tied into his bunk, or he never could have stayed there,
so violent was the motion.

"Where is Dirola?" asked Mr. Henderson suddenly.

"She was out on the stern a while ago," answered Bill. "She was saying
something about it being too hot for her inside. That was before the
storm came up."

"We must see to her," said the captain. "She must come inside. The
motion of the ship may toss her off!"

Bill volunteered to go out and bring the Esquimaux woman in. It was all
he could do to open the door, so strong was the pressure of wind on it.

When he did swing it back such a cloud of snow entered that it seemed as
if some one had emptied a feather bed in the cabin.

"She don't want to come in," Bill reported when, after much exertion, he
had made his way back again. "She is laughing at this storm, and says
i