The Airship "Golden Hind" Part 3

CHAPTER IV--THE DEPARTURE

"Will next Monday suit you fellows to take on officially?" enquired Fosterd.y.k.e, as the chums prepared to depart. "I want a trial flight on that day, and if it proves satisfactory, I'll make a formal entry at once. M. Chauva.s.se stipulates that all entries must reach him in writing by noon on the thirtieth. That leaves us with only eight days clear."

"Monday it is, sir," replied Kenyon, promptly. "We'll have everything fixed up as far as our private business is concerned before then. In fact, we could arrange to join earlier--couldn't we, Peter?"

Peter Bramsdean signified his agreement.

"Hardly necessary," observed Fosterd.y.k.e. "But if anything unforeseen transpires before then I'll wire you."

During the next few days there was much to be done in "squaring up" the motor transport work. Notices were issued stating that the princ.i.p.als, Messrs. Kenyon and Bramsdean, would be away for six weeks, during which time all orders could be safely entrusted to their works manager. Even that individual had no inkling of the nature of his employers'

forthcoming absence. The secret, jealously guarded, had not yet leaked out.

On the other hand, the Press published a report of M. Chauva.s.se's offer and stated that three entries other than British had been received. The lack of enterprise on the part of British airmen was commented upon and an appeal issued to sportsmen to make an effort to prevent yet another record pa.s.sing into the hands of foreigners.

On the day following this journalistic jeremiad came the report that a British airs.h.i.+p of unique design was approaching completion at a private aerodrome near Blandford, and that the Air Ministry had given instructions for all facilities to be afforded to its crew in their attempt to circ.u.mnavigate the globe within a s.p.a.ce of twenty days.

Details, both erroneous and exaggerated, were given of the mysterious airs.h.i.+p, together with plans that were as unlike those of the "Golden Hind" as those of a modern dreadnought would be compared with those of Drake's famous s.h.i.+p.

"That will rattle the Old Man," declared Kenyon, when he read the announcement.

It did. Fosterd.y.k.e sent a wire asking his two a.s.sistants to join him at once. That was on the Friday morning. At 2.30 P.M.--or in Air Force phraseology 14.30--Kenyon and Bramsdean arrived at Air Grange, to find a vast concourse of would-be spectators congregated round the gates, backing up the efforts of a knot of persistent Pressmen who cajoled, bluffed, and argued--all in vain--with the imperturbable Hayward and four hefty satellites.

The gra.s.sy slopes outside the formidable fence resembled Epsom Downs on Derby Day. Momentarily motor-cars were arriving, while at frequent intervals heavily laden char-a-bancs rumbled up and discharged their human cargo. Motor-bicycles, push-bikes, traps and carts added to the congestion. Thousands of people arrived on foot--from where goodness only knows! Hawkers and itinerant purveyors displayed their wares; photographers, both amateur and professional, elbowed their way towards the forbidden ground; while three bra.s.s bands and at least a dozen individual musicians added to the din. On the outskirts temporary platforms had been erected, while hirers of telescopes, field and opera gla.s.ses did a roaring trade, people willingly paying to gaze at the impenetrable barrier of fir-trees in the vain hope of catching a glimpse of the mysterious airs.h.i.+p.

It took Kenyon and Bramsdean the best part of an hour to literally force their way through the throng. By dint of shouting "Gangway, please,"

they continued to make a certain amount of progress until their arrival, coupled with the ex-sergeant's efforts to make the crowd stand aside, attracted the attention of the representatives of the Press.

For five minutes the latter bombarded the chums with questions, getting inconsequent replies that put the reporters on their mettle.

"If we aren't allowed in, we'll take jolly good care you won't be,"

shouted one of the Press representatives, evidently mistaking Peter and Kenneth for favoured spectators.

There was a rush towards the gates. The half a dozen policemen a.s.sisting Hayward and his men were almost swept off their feet. Things looked serious. If Kenyon and his companion succeeded in getting past the gate it would only be in the midst of an excited mob.

Just then Sir Reginald Fosterd.y.k.e appeared. Some of the local inhabitants recognised him, and the report of his ident.i.ty quickly spread. So when he raised his hand to enjoin silence the crowd surging around the gate ceased its clamour.

"By preventing my navigating officers you only defer your own ends," he exclaimed in ringing tones. "The airs.h.i.+p is not yet ready for flight, nor is she open to inspection. A trial flight has been fixed for Monday next. On that day the aerodrome will be thrown open to public inspection. And," he added, with a disarming smile, "there will be no charge for admission."

Almost instantly the demeanour of the crowd changed. There were calls for cheers for Sir Reginald Fosterd.y.k.e. Someone started singing: "For he's a jolly good fellow."

The baronet turned and hurried away precipitately. Publicity he hated.

Kenneth and Peter, taking advantage of this diversion, slipped inside the barrier and found Fosterd.y.k.e awaiting them beyond the bend of the carriage drive.

"Good old British public," he exclaimed. "By Jove! They put the wind up me. I thought that they would be swarming like locusts over the 'Golden Hind.' We'll have to circ.u.mvent them. Only last night some of the crew found a fellow prowling round the shed. Goodness only knows what for.

He pitched some sort of yarn, and since we aren't under the Defence of the Realm Act I couldn't detain him. But this crowd scares me. We'll get out to-night, even if we have to drift, and they can have the run of the place on Monday, as I promised. But I said nothing about the airs.h.i.+p being here or otherwise. Where's your kit?"

"Somewhere between here and Blandford railway station," replied Peter.

"We saw we'd have our work cut out to force our way through, so we told the taxi-driver to take it back to the station. It isn't the first time we've parted with our kit, eh, Kenneth?"

"I'll send for it when the crowd thins," decided Sir Reginald. "Now I suppose you're wondering why I telegraphed for you?"

"The swarm outside offers a solution," said Kenyon.

"To a certain extent, yes," agreed Fosterd.y.k.e. "Apart from that, there's a reliable report that Captain Theodore Nye, of the United States Army, is starting from Tampa, Florida, to-morrow in one of the large airs.h.i.+ps of the 'R' type that the Air Ministry sold to America recently. That forces our hand. We'll have to be at the starting-point--1100 miles away--by to-morrow mid-day, so as to replenish petrol and commence the compet.i.tion flight before midnight."

"And how about the Boche, sir?"

"Count Karl von Sinzig? Not a word. He's apparently out of it. Not even one of the 'also rans.' Our formidable rivals are the Yankee and a j.a.p--a Count Hyas.h.i.+--who will reach his Nadir somewhere in Uruguay. Let 'em all come--the more the merrier."

All hands, including the workmen and mechanics who were not partic.i.p.ating in the voyage, a.s.sembled in the large dining-hall for an impromptu farewell dinner, and to them the baronet broached the subject of the hurried departure of the "Golden Hind."

The meal over, the task of getting the huge airs.h.i.+p out of her shed began. Even though the wind was light the work was by no means simple.

Incautious handling or a sudden change in the direction of the air currents might easily result in disaster. The operation had to be carried out after sunset and with the minimum of artificial light, since, for the present, the "Golden Hind's" departure was to be kept secret.

With her ballonets charged sufficiently to give her a slight lift, the airs.h.i.+p rose until the base of the fuselage was a bare three feet from the ground. The crew were at their stations, Kenyon a.s.sisting Fosterd.y.k.e in the wheelhouse, while right aft Peter Bramsdean directed the movements of the "ground-men" holding the stern, securing, and trailing ropes.

Inch by inch, foot by foot, the leviathan of the air emerged from the shed until her entire length, straining gently at the rope that tethered her to mother earth, lay exposed to the starlit sky.

"All clear, sir!" reported Bramsdean through a speaking-tube.

Curt but precise orders rang out from the navigation-room. The slight hiss of the brodium being released from the metal cylinders was barely audible above the sighing of the wind in the pine-tops until the gauges registering the "lift" of the airs.h.i.+p indicated thirty-eight tons.

Armed with a megaphone, Fosterd.y.k.e leant out of the window of the navigation-room.

"All ready? ... Let go!"

Simultaneously the twenty men holding the airs.h.i.+p released their hold.

That was where training and discipline told, for terrible to contemplate would have been the fate of an unwary "ground-man" had he retained his grip on the rope. But without an accident to mar the momentous event, the "Golden Hind" shot almost vertically into the air, attaining in a very short s.p.a.ce of time an alt.i.tude of six thousand feet.

Not a cheer rang out to speed the departing compet.i.tor for the stupendous contest. Unheard and unseen save by the loyal band of helpers at the aerodrome, Sir Reginald Fosterd.y.k.e's airs.h.i.+p was on her way to the starting-point of her voyage round the globe.

CHAPTER V--FIRST AWAY

Hanging apparently motionless in still air, although virtually she was drifting in a southerly direction at a modest ten miles an hour, the "Golden Hind" maintained her alt.i.tude for the best part of half an hour before any attempt was made to start the motors. She was now to all intents and purposes a non-dirigible balloon, floating aimlessly in the air.

Peter Bramsdean, his work aft accomplished, made his way to the navigation-room, where he found the baronet and Kenyon watching the galaxy of lights far beneath them.

"We're drifting over Poole Harbour," observed Fosterd.y.k.e. "That's prohibited for private owned aircraft; but who's to know?"

"I often wonder what would happen," said Peter, "if a non-dirigible drifted over a prohibited area. Hang it all! The balloonist couldn't control the wind, neither can the Air Ministry, so what's the poor fellow to do?"

From their lofty post of observation the officers of the "Golden Hind"

could see the coast-line standing out distinctly in the starlight. Away to the south-east the powerful St. Catherine's Light threw its beam athwart the sky in a succession of flashes every five seconds. Nearer, but less distinct, could be seen the distinctive lights of The Needles and Hurst Castle. Then a curved line of glittering pin-points--the esplanade lamps of Bournemouth. To the south-west the lesser glare of Swanage and beyond the glow of Anvil Point Lighthouse. Lesser lights, like myriads of glow-worms, denoted scattered towns, villages, and detached houses ash.o.r.e, while right ahead and for the most part visible only by the aid of binoculars, could be discerned the red, green, and white navigation lights of s.h.i.+pping pa.s.sing up and down the Channel.