Airship Part 10

"Nothing in sight, Herr kapitan," he announced.

By this time Z64 was well beyond the storm-area. The sea, now a bare 3000 feet below, was no longer white with angry crested waves, but by the aid of binoculars it could be seen that there was a long swell running.

"Then there's nothing to be done unless we make use of the Albatross," declared von Sinzig. "I will go and look for a ship."

Hans Leutter and those of the crew who heard the count's resolve received the proposal in stony silence. They all recognised that their kapitan was violating the traditions of the sea and the air by being the first to abandon his command. Of the crew at least four were capable of flying the small but powerful monoplane, so there was no excuse on that score of von Sinzig being the only man able to take the Albatross up.

In obedience to a peremptory order the crew hurriedly prepared the monoplane for her flight. The Albatross, nominally used for starting from and alighting on the ground, was adapted for marine work by having three small floats, the lower portions of which were just above the wheel base line, so that the monoplane could be used either as an ordinary machine or as a seaplane.

In the present circ.u.mstances von Sinzig elected to start from the air. The Albatross, suspended by a quick release gear from the underside of the 'midship gondola, was ready before the airship had dropped to a thousand feet.

"You will be quite safe," reiterated the count. "I'll send the first vessel I meet to your a.s.sistance. It may be a matter of a few hours. All ready? Let go."

The monoplane's motor was already running slowly. Directly von Sinzig felt the Albatross had parted company with her gigantic parent he opened "all out." At a hundred and thirty miles an hour he was soon lost to sight.

"He's going east by north, I notice," soliloquised Hans Leutter. "I will be greatly surprised if he returns to Z64."

And the count was of the same opinion. He hadn't the faintest intention of flying back to the airship. Nor was he particularly keen on reporting Z64's predicament to any vessel he sighted.

He was out to win the Chauva.s.se Prize. The sum went to the man who succeeded in flying round the world in twenty days. There was no stipulation to the effect that only one airship, flying-boat, aeroplane, or seaplane must be used throughout the flight. Therefore, since the goal was within a comparatively easy distance, he hoped to complete the circuit in the Albatross, and thus win the coveted prize.

CHAPTER XXII.

--THE END OF Z64.

"By Jove! Kenyon, what's that over on our starboard bow?" exclaimed Bramsdean.

Kenneth raised his binoculars and focussed them on a dark object in the direction indicated.

"That," he replied after a brief survey, "is a Zepp. There's not much mistake about that. She is also in difficulties apparently, since Zepps don't generally a.s.sume an angle of forty-five degrees. It is also reasonable to a.s.sume that it is Z64, since we know that von Sinzig was keeping a course slightly divergent to ours. The southerly wind has evidently driven her northward."

Fosterd.y.k.e was asleep in his cabin, but upon hearing the news he hurried to the navigation-room.

"Are we Pharisees or Good Samaritans, sir?" enquired Kenyon. "Do we pa.s.s by on the other side, or do we stop to render a.s.sistance?"

"It strikes me that something more than a.s.sistance is required," replied the baronet. "Obviously our friend von Sinzig is out of the running. His airship is down and out. If there are any of the crew on board, we'll be just in time to prevent them losing the number of their mess."

Z64 was in a very bad way. The after part of the envelope was half submerged. The rearmost gondola was entirely so. The foremost car was rising and falling owing to the slight buoyancy of the for'ard ballonets. At one moment it was thirty or forty feet above the water, at another it was smacking the surface and sending the spray far and wide.

"Keep to windward," ordered Fosterd.y.k.e.

"There are men still on board," replied Peter. "A dozen more or less are hanging on to the catwalk."

"It'll be rather a proposition to get them off," said the baronet. "We haven't a boat; neither apparently have they, and I don't like the idea of running alongside a half-submerged gas-bag. With this heavy swell there's no knowing what might happen."

"We might run out a hawser and take her in tow," suggested Kenyon. "I mean, tow her until we get the crew off by means of an endless line."

"Might do," half agreed Fosterd.y.k.e. "It would be decidedly awkward if our head fell away and we drifted in broadside on to the wreckage. We'll try it. Tell Jackson to get a hawser ready, and see there is a slip fitted in case we have to cast off in a hurry."

Already several of the ballonets that at first sight seemed beyond repair had been patched up, while the fortunate discovery of two flasks of compressed brodium gave the "Golden Hind" considerable buoyancy, so that she was no longer dependent upon the lift of her six planes. Yet the prospect of having to take on board the weighty Hun crew would seriously threaten the buoyancy of the airship.

"Luckily we are within sight of our goal," said Fosterd.y.k.e. "We can sacrifice a quant.i.ty of our stores. The reserve fresh water tank can be started, too. Two hundred and fifty gallons less of water ought to make a considerable difference."

Leading Hand Jackson, with the help of four or five of the crew, soon made the necessary preparations. By this time the "Golden Hind" had approached to within a hundred yards of the disabled Zeppelin, the crew of which, half in doubt as to what was going to happen, were signalling and shouting frantically for help.

"Rescuing the crew of the Hilda P. Murchison was child's play to this," commented Kenyon. "Goodness only knows how we are going to establish communication. Her blessed envelope is in the way."

Thrice the "Golden Hind" sailed over her crippled rival. The trailing hawser glided over the rounded surface of the gasbag, but none of the men made any attempt to leave the gondolas and secure the rope. It afterwards transpired that the aluminium envelope was sagging and whipping to such an extent that the vertical shaft through it by which access could be made to the upper surface of the gas-bag was impracticable. Anyone attempting to ascend by that way would almost certainly be crushed to death.

"Can't the lubbers see the hawser?" asked Fosterd.y.k.e, impatiently. "Or have they all got the wind up so frightfully that they can't lift a hand to help themselves? Get in that hawser, Jackson. We'll try approaching to leeward this time and see if they've got the sense to veer a rope."

The manoeuvre required very careful execution. The "Golden Hind," descending until her fuselage was but a few feet above the sea, approached carefully. She had to be kept under control up to a certain point, when way had to be taken off her. If she stopped too soon, she would drift away before communication could be established; if she carried on even a few yards too much, there was a danger of her overlapping envelope colliding nose on with the wrecked Zeppelin.

This time the Huns showed decided activity. They bent a line to an inflated indiarubber lifebelt and threw the latter into the sea. Unfortunately, they did not take into account the fact that the Zeppelin was drifting to leeward as fast as the lifebelt. When they realised what was happening one of the crew jumped overboard and towed the line a hundred yards or so away.

"Now there's a chance of doing something," commented Fosterd.y.k.e, telegraphing for a touch ahead with Nos. 1 and 2 motors.

As the "Golden Hind" pa.s.sed immediately over the life-buoy a grapnel, lowered from the after-part of the fuselage, engaged the rope, and in a remarkably short s.p.a.ce of time a stout hawser connected the British airship with the still buoyant bows of the German.

Fosterd.y.k.e waited until the "Golden Hind" had swung round and was pointing "down wind," then he ordered easy ahead with the two for'ard motors. This gave sufficient tension to the hawser, which was now inclined at an angle of about thirty degrees.

A "s.n.a.t.c.h-block" with an endless line was then allowed to run down to the hawser.

"Now the rest is easy," declared Fosterd.y.k.e, but for once at least he was greatly mistaken.

The first of the Huns arrived in a bowline on board the "Golden Hind."

"How many are there?" asked Fosterd.y.k.e.

"Ve vos dwanty," replied the German, holding up the fingers of both hands twice in order to make his meaning clearer.

More Huns emerging from the for'ard gondola of Z64 confirmed the man's statement. One was evidently an officer, but his features did not in the least resemble those of Count von Sinzig, whose photograph had appeared some time back in the ill.u.s.trated papers.

Seventeen Huns were transhipped in about as many minutes. The eighteenth was half-way along the tautened hawser when Fosterd.y.k.e shouted, "Let go!"

Leading-Hand Jackson obeyed the order instantly. The ring of the Senhouse slip was knocked clear, and the hawser fell with a splash into the sea. The "Golden Hind," released from the drag of the partly water-logged Zeppelin, shot ahead.

She was only just in time. The baronet had noticed a tongue of flame issuing from the centre gondola of Z64. How the fire was caused was a mystery, since had the Huns wished to destroy the wreckage they would have waited until the last man was clear of the Zeppelin. Possibly the wiring of the electric stove had short-circuited when in contact with the salt water.

In less than fifteen seconds from the time the hawser had been slipped the hydrogen escaping from the leaky ballonets was ignited. The aluminium gasbag was surrounded by flames. The heat caused the gas in the still intact ballonets to expand, affording sufficient lifting power to heave the wreckage almost clear of the water. The remaining Huns, keenly alive to the terrible danger, promptly jumped into the sea.

Then with a terrific glare the remaining ballonets burst, and the shattered wreckage, sizzling as it came into contact with the cold water, disappeared beneath the surface, leaving a steadily widening circle of oil surmounted by a dense pall of black smoke to mark the scene of the end of Z64.

Before the evil-smelling vapour had dispersed the "Golden Hind," turning head to wind, was over the spot searching for possible survivors. For half an hour she cruised round, but her efforts to rescue the three Huns were unavailing. The men had either been stunned by the explosion or had been hit by falling wreckage. Amongst them was Unter-Leutnant Hans Leutter, who, by resolutely refusing to leave his command until the rest of the crew were safe, had proved that all Hun officers were not of the von Sinzig type.

Several of the rescued Germans could speak English--but they were decidedly reticent. In the back of their minds they rather feared that they were in for a bad time. They knew that their late kapitan had been practically outlawed and that he was "wanted" by the authorities for having, amongst other misdemeanours, destroyed the Fremantle aerodrome by means of an incendiary bomb. They rather expected that they would be blamed for the acts of their fugitive superior.

On the other hand, they were grateful to their rescuers for having saved their lives, and with typical Teutonic reasoning they eventually decided that one way to repay the kindness and to ingratiate themselves in the eyes of the Englishman would be to give away their former officers.

The spokesman led off by informing Sir Reginald Fosterd.y.k.e that Unter-Leutnant Hans Leutter was the person who dropped the incendiary bomb from the observation basket in the hope that it would destroy the "Golden Hind."

"He was, of course, acting under Count von Sinzig's orders," remarked Fosterd.y.k.e, drily. "Where is Herr Leutter?"

"Dead," was the reply. "He was one of the three left on Z64."

"And Count von Sinzig was one of the other two?"

The German airman shrugged his shoulders and made a gesture of disgust. He still rankled over his kapitan's cowardly desertion. It was long obvious to all the survivors of Z64 that von Sinzig had no intention of summoning aid. Eight hours had elapsed since he began his flight in the Albatross. In that time he must have sighted several vessels, since the scene of the disaster was not many miles from one of the great Atlantic trade routes.

"Kapitan Count von Sinzig left Z64 soon after daybreak this morning, mein Herr," replied the German. "At seven o'clock, to be exact."

"Left--how?" demanded Fosterd.y.k.e, sharply.

"In an Albatross monoplane. He was last seen going east-north-east."

Fosterd.y.k.e dismissed his informant and turned to Kenyon and Bramsdean.

"The cunning old rascal!" he exclaimed. "I see his little game now. He's completing the final stage by aeroplane. I suppose by this time he's won the Chauva.s.se Prize; but I don't envy him."

"Will you enter a protest, sir?" asked Peter.

"Protest? Not much," replied the baronet, emphatically. "These seventeen Huns can do the protesting if they want to, and I rather fancy they will."

"There's many a slip," quoted Kenyon. "He may not complete the course after all."

CHAPTER XXIII.

--A DUMPING OPERATION.

The heavily-laden "Golden Hind" resumed her delayed journey. Both gas-bags and planes had to do their full share of work to keep the airship afloat. She was flying low, but making good progress; but so little was her reserve of buoyancy that had the three Huns who perished in the catastrophe to Z64 been saved, it was doubtful whether Fosterd.y.k.e could have "carried on."

To make matters worse, some of the patches on the repaired ballonets were leaking, for owing to the heat of the rubber the solution was not holding well.

"I wonder if Drake's 'Golden Hind,' when she arrived in the Thames after circ.u.mnavigating the globe, was patched up like we are," remarked Kenyon. "It took Drake three long years to do the trick, and we look like completing our voyage in under seventeen days."

"If the old 'bus holds out," added Bramsdean. "'Tany rate, no one can say we haven't done our bit. The 'Golden Hind's' been a regular sort of aerial lifeboat. That is some satisfaction. I'd rather we did that than win the race."

"I suppose our pa.s.sengers won't get up to any of their Hunnish tricks?" observed Kenneth.

"Trust Fosterd.y.k.e for that," replied Peter grimly. "He's had 'em placed in the dining-saloon. (Fortunately, we won't require many more meals.) They can amuse themselves there without getting into mischief. There's one of our fellows stationed outside to keep the blighters in order."

Just then the baronet came upon the scene.

"Von Sinzig looks like pulling it off," he observed. "A wireless from the S.S. Wontwash reports that a monoplane pa.s.sed over the ship at 6 P.M., flying east. According to the position given, the Wontwash was only thirty-five miles west of Gibraltar."

"Then perhaps he's back at his hangar by this time," commented Peter. "Any news of the others?"

"Yes; Commodore Theodore Nye has been unable to get hold of another 'bus yet, although two of the Australian R.A.F. pilots are bringing him a 'Bristol' machine from Melbourne. He's out of the running. That he admits, but he means to complete the course, even if it takes him six months."

"And the j.a.p?" asked Kenyon.

"Not a word," replied the baronet. "He's keeping quiet; but mark my words, that quadruplane will turn up unexpectedly. If his 'bus had had British motors, he would have romped home in less than a week."

"What engines has he?" asked Bramsdean.

"j.a.panese," replied Fosterd.y.k.e. "Pa.s.sable imitations of ours and good up to a certain point; but give me British engines all the jolly old time."

Although the baronet made frequent enquiries of the operator, no wireless messages concerning von Sinzig came through.

"Perhaps he's crashed," suggested Peter.

"Not he," replied Kenyon. "That Hun's got the luck of a cat with nine lives. He's playing his own game."

"It is a game," added Bramsdean. "Loading that crowd of Huns on to us is like a man in a mile race chucking his gear to another compet.i.tor and telling him to hang on. I don't wish the blighter any harm, but I do hope that if he pulls off the money prize they'll pay him in German marks at the pre-war rate of exchange. That'd make him look blue!"

Although no news came in concerning their Hun rival, the officers and crew of the "Golden Hind" began to be bombarded with wireless messages from Britons in every quarter of the globe. All were of the most encouraging nature, for the story of Fosterd.y.k.e's airship and her adventures and misadventures--all more or less distorted owing to the lack of authentic detail--had awakened world-wide interest.

There were cheery messages from patriotic Britons; incentive ones from sportsmen, to whom the suggestion of a race appealed more than did the fact that the contest was one of endurance calculated to uphold the prestige of British flying men. Frenchmen, Dutchmen, Norwegians, Americans, and j.a.panese all sent greetings to the intrepid British airmen.

"Didn't know we had so many friends," remarked Fosterd.y.k.e. "Sportsmanlike of those Americans and j.a.ps, too, when they have representatives in the show."

The "Golden Hind" was now approaching the regular mail line, where routes to and from the Cape and round the Horn unite in the neighbourhood of Las Palmas.

"We'll signal the first vessel we sight," decided Sir Reginald, "and get her to relieve us of our cargo of Fritzes. The sooner the better, because several of the ballonets are showing distinct symptoms of porosity."

Five minutes later the airship had slowed down and had swung round on a course parallel to a homeward-bound Dutchman.

The skipper of the latter, when appealed to by megaphone, stoutly refused to receive the seventeen Germans. He gave no reason why he should not do so, and without waiting for further parley rang for full speed ahead.

A little later a French auxiliary barque was sighted, bound south.

Fosterd.y.k.e made no attempt to intercept her.