Airship Part 6

"Remarkable thing we haven't heard anything of friend Sinzig 'clocking in,'" observed Kenyon. "Wonder where he's making for?"

"We'll hear in due course," replied the baronet. He crossed the cabin to consult a Mercator's chart of the world, on which were pinned British, American, and j.a.panese flags recording the latest-known positions of the rival airmen. There was a German flag ready to be stuck in, but nearly five days had elapsed since von Sinzig left Spain, and the crew of the "Golden Hind" were still in ignorance of his whereabouts.

But they had the satisfaction of knowing that they more than held their own with the others. The American had pa.s.sed the Azores, while Count Hyas.h.i.+'s "Banzai," which had made a stupendous non-stop flight to Honolulu, had developed engine defects that promised to detain him indefinitely.

"Two thousand miles in nine hours," remarked Fosterd.y.k.e, referring to the j.a.panese airplane's performance. "Some s.h.i.+fting that, but Count Hyas.h.i.+ has evidently gone the pace a bit too thick. He's our most dangerous rival, Kenyon."

"Unless von Sinzig has something up his sleeve, sir," added Kenneth.

"Trust him for that," said the baronet, grimly. "However, time will prove. Well, carry on, Kenyon. Call me if there's any great change in the weather."

Within the next two hours there were indications that even the new course taken by the "Golden Hind" would not allow her to escape the cyclone. Right ahead the hitherto cloudless sky was heavy with dark, ragged thunder-clouds that, extending north and south as far as the eye could see, threatened to close upon the airs.h.i.+p like the horns of a Zulu impi.

Roused from his sleep, Fosterd.y.k.e lost no time in making his way to the navigation-room. Although he was not to be on duty for another hour and a half, Peter Bramsdean had also hurried to the chart-room.

"We're in for it, sir," declared Kenneth.

"We are," agreed Fosterd.y.k.e, gravely. "Evidently there is a second disturbance, but judging from appearances it's none the less formidable. No use turning tail. We'll go up another five thousand feet and see what it looks like."

The "Golden Hind" rose rapidly, under the joint action of her six planes and the addition of brodium to the ballonets; but even then it was touch-and-go whether the gathering storm would encircle her. As it was she flew within the influence of the fringe of the cyclone. Shrieking winds a.s.sailed her, seeming to come from two opposing quarters. Her huge bulk lurched and staggered as she climbed. Her fuselage see-sawed as the blast struck the enormous envelope above, while the jar upon the tension wires was plainly felt by the crew.

For a full ten minutes it was as black as night, save when the dark ma.s.ses of cloud were riven by vivid flashes of lightning. Blinded by the almost incessant glare, Fosterd.y.k.e and his companions could do little or nothing but hang on, trusting that the "Golden Hind" would steer herself through the opaque ma.s.ses of vapour. It was impossible to consult the instruments. Whether the airs.h.i.+p was rising or falling, whether she was steering north, south, east, or west remained questions that were incapable of being solved, since the blinding flashes of lightning and the deafening peals of thunder literally deprived the occupants of the navigation-room of every sense save that of touch. All they could do was to hold on tightly, clench their teeth, and wait.

It required some holding on. At one moment the longitudinal axis of the airs.h.i.+p was inclined at an angle of forty-five degrees; at another she was heeling to almost the same angle, the while twisting and writhing like a trapped animal. Now and again she seemed to be enveloped in electric fluid. Dazzling flashes of blue flame played on and along the aluminium envelope, vicious tongues of forked lightning seemed to stab the gas-bag through and through; and doubtless had the ballonets contained hydrogen instead of non-inflammable brodium the "Golden Hind" would have crashed seawards in trailing ma.s.ses of flame.

How long this inferno lasted no one on board had the remotest idea. The flight of time remained a matter of individual calculation. To Kenyon it seemed hours; Bramsdean afterwards confessed that he thought the pa.s.sage through the storm cloud lasted thirty minutes. In reality only six minutes had elapsed from the time the "Golden Hind" was enveloped in the thunder cloud till the moment when she emerged.

It was much like being in a train coming out of a long tunnel. With their eyes still dazed by the vivid flashes the men in the navigation-room became aware that the vapour was growing lighter. They could distinguish the smoke-like rolls of mist as the suns.h.i.+ne penetrated the upper edges of the clouds. Then, no longer beaten by the torrential downpour of hail, the "Golden Hind" shot into a blaze of brilliant suns.h.i.+ne.

It seemed too good to be true. For some moments Fosterd.y.k.e and his companions simply stared blankly ahead until their eyes grew accustomed to the different conditions.

Then Kenyon, who was still officer of the watch, glanced over the shoulder of the helmsman and noted the compa.s.s. The lubber's line was a point west of north. The "Golden Hind" had been practically retracing her course, and might be anything from fifty to a hundred miles farther away from her goal than she had been when the storm enveloped her.

Obedient to the action of the vertical rudders the airs.h.i.+p swung back on her former course. The altimeter indicated a height of twelve thousand feet, and the "Golden Hind" was still rising. Three thousand feet below was an expanse of wind-torn clouds, no longer showing dark, but of a dazzling whiteness. The crew of the "Golden Hind" were literally looking on the bright side of things.

"We're well above the path of the storm," remarked Fosterd.y.k.e, gratefully. "We've a lot to be thankful for, but the fact remains we daren't descend while that stuff's knocking about. Once in a lifetime is quite enough."

Before any of his companions could offer any remark, Murgatroyd, the chief air-mechanic on duty, appeared through the hatchway.

"Sorry to have to report, sir," he announced, "that the two after motors are both out of action. Blade smashed on the starboard prop, sir, and the chain-drive on the port prop has snapped. The broken chain is in your cabin, sir."

"Who put it there?" asked Fosterd.y.k.e.

"It put itself there, sir," was the imperturbable reply. "Sort of flew off the sprocket when the link parted and went bang through the side plate of the fuselage, sir. I'll allow it's made a wee bit of a mess inside, sir."

"Take over, Bramsdean, please," said Fosterd.y.k.e. "Directly you get a chance obtain our position. Come on, Kenyon, let's see the extent of the damage. The cabin doesn't matter. It isn't the first time I've slept in a punctured dog-box. But the mechanical breakdown--that's the thing that counts."

Followed by Murgatroyd, the baronet and Kenyon went aft. From No. 5 motor-room they could see the motionless propeller, one of the four blades of which had been shattered as far as the boss, while all the others bore signs of more or less damage from the flying fragments.

"Matter of twenty minutes, sir," replied Murgatroyd in answer to his chief's enquiry as to how long the repairs would take. "We'll have to stop, and I'll bolt on the new blades. At the same time I'll put a couple of hands on to fitting a new chain to the starboard drive. I don't fancy the 'A' bracket's strained, but I'll soon find out directly we stop."

It was rough luck to have to stop all the motors and drift at the mercy of the air currents for twenty precious minutes; but the only option would be to carry on under the action of four propellers only at a greatly reduced speed.

"Right-o, Murgatroyd," agreed the baronet. "Slap it about."

"Trust me for that, sir," replied the engineer. "I've warned the break-down gang. I'll give you the all-clear signal in twenty minutes--less, sir, or my name isn't Robert Murgatroyd."

Three minutes later the remaining four motors were switched off, and the "Golden Hind," rapidly losing way, fell off broadside on to the wind at a height of twelve thousand five hundred feet above sea-level.

Instantly the mechanics swarmed out along the slender "A" brackets, Murgatroyd and an a.s.sistant setting to work to unbolt the damaged blades, while other airmen pa.s.sed a new chain round the sprocket wheels of the starboard motor and propeller respectively.

Although there was no apparent wind, and the airs.h.i.+p was drifting at practically the same rate as the air current, it was bitterly cold. The brackets were slippery with ice, and the difficulty of maintaining a foothold was still further increased by the erratic vertical motion of the airs.h.i.+p.

The mechanics, wearing lifelines, went about their work fearlessly. They were used to clambering about on coastal airs.h.i.+ps, sometimes under fire; and although the present task was a simple one from a mechanical point, it was most difficult owing to the adverse atmospheric conditions.

Yet in the s.p.a.ce of seventeen and a half minutes Murgatroyd and his band of workers were back in the fuselage, their task accomplished, and in twenty minutes the six motors were running once more.

Murgatroyd flushed with pleasure when his chief thanked and complimented him.

"Maybe, sir, you'd be liking to have your cabin repaired?" he asked. "Just a sheet of metal strapped against the plates will hold till we land again. Then I'll see that it's well bolted on, sir; but I'll guarantee you'll not be feeling the draught to-night."

CHAPTER XIV.

--THE BOAT'S CREW.

The state of his cabin hardly troubled Fosterd.y.k.e. He never even went to investigate the extent of the damage, for the moment the airs.h.i.+p's motors were re-started he hastened back to the navigation-room.

"Got a fix yet, Bramsdean?" were his first words.

Peter handed him a slip of paper.

"Well out of our course, sir," he remarked.

The position was given as lat. 3 15' 20" S., long. 58 20' 5" E.

"We are," agreed Fosterd.y.k.e gravely. "Well to the west'ard. We ought to be within sight of the Seych.e.l.les."

"Any chance of getting petrol there, I wonder?" asked Bramsdean. "Judging by the name it seems a likely place to get 'Sh.e.l.l brand.'"

"Don't prattle, Peter," exclaimed Kenneth, facetiously.

Fosterd.y.k.e laughed at the joke.

"Rotten puns, both of them," he said. "All the same I wish we had another two hundred gallons of 'Pratt's' or 'Sh.e.l.l' or any other old brand of petrol. But it's no use going still farther out of our course on the off-chance of getting juice, so we'll just carry on."

With the pa.s.sing of the cyclone the wind fell light. What little there was was dead aft. The sea, viewed from an alt.i.tude of three thousand feet, appeared as smooth as gla.s.s, although in reality there was a long rolling ground swell.

In order to economise the petrol consumption the speed of the "Golden Hind" was reduced to ninety miles an hour. Should the favouring wind hold, the airs.h.i.+p stood a good chance of making the Australian coast. If it changed and blew from the south-east, then Fosterd.y.k.e's chances of winning the race would be off.

Just before eleven o'clock in the morning of the day following the storm, Frampton, one of the crew on duty in the navigation-room, reported a boat about three miles away on the port bow.

By the aid of gla.s.ses it was seen that the boat was a s.h.i.+p's cutter moving slowly under sail in an easterly direction. Her crew were hidden from view by a spare sail rigged as an awning over the stern sheets.

"Something wrong there," remarked Bramsdean. "A small boat hundreds of miles from the nearest land requires some explanation. Inform Sir Reginald, Frampton; tell him I propose coming down within hailing distance."

Before Fosterd.y.k.e could reach the navigation-room the noise of the "Golden Hind's" aerial propellers had attracted the attention of the occupants of the cutter, and six or seven men, whipping off the awning, began waving strips of canvas and various garments.

Slowing down and descending to fifty feet, the airs.h.i.+p approached the boat. The latter was hardly seaworthy. Her topstrake had been stove in on the starboard side, and had been roughly repaired by means of a piece of painted canvas. Her sails were patched in several places, while in default of a rudder she was being steered by means of an oar.

"Poor chaps! Look at them!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Kenneth. "They're almost done in."

The boat's crew were indeed in desperate straits. They were ragged, gaunt, and famished. Their faces and hands were burnt to a brick-red colour with exposure to the wind and tropical sun. Three of them, seeing that help was at hand, had collapsed and were lying inertly on the bottom-boards.

Viewed from a height of fifty feet the length of the ocean rollers became apparent. The sea was not dangerous, since there were no formidable crests to the long undulations, but there was considerable risk of the lightly built fuselage sustaining damage should the boat surge alongside. On the other hand, it was almost a matter of impossibility to get the men on board otherwise than by the airs.h.i.+p descending and resting on the surface. Obviously they were far too weak to attempt to climb the rope-ladder, while the use of bowlines was open to great objection both as regards the length of time and the risk of injury to the rescued men.

Being a s.h.i.+p's boat the cutter was provided with slinging gear. The question was whether in her damaged state the boat would break her back in being hoisted; but Fosterd.y.k.e decided to take the risk.

Accordingly wire hawsers were lowered from the two bow-hawser pipes, and by dint of careful manoeuvring the shackles were engaged. Then, under the lifting power of additional brodium introduced into the for'ard ballonets, the "Golden Hind" rose vertically until the boat was clear of the water. The motor winches were then started and the cutter hauled up until her gunwales were almost touching the underside of the airs.h.i.+p's nacelle.

One by one the exhausted men were taken on board the airs.h.i.+p by means of the hatchway through which Kenyon had gone to the rescue of Enrico Jaures. This done, two of the "Golden Hind's" men dropped into the boat and pa.s.sed slings round her. When these took the weight of the cutter the wire hawsers were unshackled and the two men clambered back to the airs.h.i.+p, which had now risen to nearly a thousand feet. One end of each sling was then slipped, and the boat, falling like a stone, splintered to matchwood as she struck the surface of the sea.

The seven rescued men were given food and drink in strictly moderate quant.i.ties. Vainly they begged for more, but Fosterd.y.k.e knew the danger of starving men being allowed to eat and drink their fill. Nor did he attempt to question them at that juncture, beyond ascertaining that there were no more boats belonging to their s.h.i.+p. They were put into bunks and made to sleep.

It was not until ten o'clock on the following morning that four of the rescued men put in an appearance in Fosterd.y.k.e's cabin. The remaining three were too ill to leave their bunks.

They were, they said, the sole survivors of the American barque Hilda P. Murchison, thirty days out from Albany, Western Australia, and bound for Karachi. Three hundred miles east of the Chagos Archipelago an explosion took place, but whether external or internal the survivors did not know. One of them thought it might have been a mine. But it was severe enough to sink the Hilda P. Murchison in less than five minutes, and the sole survivors were the first mate and six hands of the duty watch, who managed to scramble into the only boat that had not been shattered.

Without food and with only a small barrico of water, they set off to make their way back to Australia, knowing that with the prevailing winds they stood a much better chance of making land there than if they attempted a three-hundred-mile beat to windward, with the risk of missing the Chagos Archipelago altogether.

That was eight days ago. They contrived to exist upon raw fish, tallow candles--which they found in a locker--and half a pint of water per man per diem.

Once they sighted a vessel, but their signals for a.s.sistance were unnoticed. Then they encountered a white squall, the tail end of a storm that ripped their sails before they could stow canvas, and carried away the rudder.

The blow was succeeded by a flat calm. For hours the cutter drifted idly, her roughly repaired sails hanging listlessly in the sultry air. Almost overcome by hunger, fatigue, and the tropical heat, they were on the point of despair when the timely arrival of the British airs.h.i.+p s.n.a.t.c.hed them from a lingering death.

"I hope we'll be able to set you ash.o.r.e at Fremantle within the next eight or ten hours," said Fosterd.y.k.e. "Meanwhile we'll get in touch with the wireless station there and report your rescue. Oh, yes, you may smoke in the for'ard compartment, but you'll find this s.h.i.+p as 'dry' as the land of the Stars and Stripes."

During the rest of the day progress was well maintained. The westerly breeze increased to half a gale, which meant an addition of thirty to forty miles an hour to the airs.h.i.+p's speed. Barring accidents the "Golden Hind" would reach Fremantle with petrol still remaining in her tanks.

"It's not often one gets a westerly wind in the Twenties," observed the baronet. "South-east Trades are the usual order of things. We're lucky. Normally we should have to go as far south as 40 to rely upon a westerly wind."

"It will help us from Fremantle to New Zealand," said Peter. "I remember reading in the paper not so many months ago of the skipper of a sailing vessel who tried for days to beat up from Melbourne to Fremantle. Finally he gave up beating to wind'ard as a hopeless job, so he turned and ran before the westerly breeze, sailed round the Horn and the Cape of Good Hope, and actually arrived at Fremantle several days before another vessel that had left Melbourne at the same time as he did."

"Let's hope we'll find an equally favouring wind to help us across the Pacific," remarked Fosterd.y.k.e. "We'll want it."

CHAPTER XV.

--REVELATIONS.

"Land ahead!"

The hail brought Fosterd.y.k.e and Bramsdean from their cabins with the utmost alacrity. They had not expected to sight Australia for another hour and a half, and now there was certainly land far away to the east'ard.

During the last three hours the clear sky had given place to a thick bank of dark clouds. Observations to determine the "Golden Hind's" position were therefore out of the question. She was steering a compa.s.s course with the wind almost dead aft. It was a case of dead reckoning, and now no one knew exactly what part of Western Australia they were approaching--whether it was north or south of the Fremantle aerodrome.

"We'll do it before dark," declared Fosterd.y.k.e, confidently.

He had hardly spoken when Murgatroyd's head and shoulders appeared through the hatchway of the navigation-room.

"We're on the last few gallons of petrol, sir," he reported. "I've me doubts if the engines'll run another ten minutes. They're slowing down now," he added.

"Switch off all but numbers 1 and 2 motors," ordered the baronet. "Keep these running for twenty minutes if you can, and we'll manage it."

But before the chief engineer could regain the for'ard motor-room the six aerial propellers were motionless. The "Golden Hind" no longer drove through the air, but simply drifted broadside on to the strong breeze.

Just as the sun sank in the Indian Ocean the airs.h.i.+p crossed the coastline. Ten miles to the north could be discerned Perth and Fremantle--ten miles that, as far as the "Golden Hind" was concerned might have been a thousand.

"Down with her," ordered Fosterd.y.k.e. "Stand by with both grapnels. We'll have to trust to luck to find a good anchoring-ground."

It was not until the airs.h.i.+p had pa.s.sed over the railway running southward from Perth to Busselton that Kenyon noted a hill that might afford shelter from the strong wind.

Rapidly several thousand cubic feet of brodium were exhausted from the ballonets, with the result that the "Golden Hind" dropped to within a hundred feet of the ground.

There was just sufficient twilight to make out the nature of the landing place. It was a wide belt of gra.s.sland, dotted here and there with small trees. Hedges there were none.

"There are a couple of men on horseback, sir," reported Frampton.

"Good," replied Fosterd.y.k.e. "Let go both grapnels. See how she takes that."

Both of the stout barbed hooks engaged the moment they touched the ground. Even though the wire ropes were paid out in order to reduce the strain, the jerk was severe. Round swung the giant airs.h.i.+p head to wind, but still she dragged. The grapnels had caught in a wire fence, and having uprooted half a dozen posts, were doing their level best to remove a five-mile sheep fence.

Up galloped the two farmers. The uprooting of their boundary fence hardly troubled them. The arrival of the airs.h.i.+p--the first they had ever seen--occupied all their attention.