The Airship "Golden Hind" Part 22

"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 airs.h.i.+p 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.

"There are limits," he observed. "Dumping those Huns on board an outward-bound Frenchman is one of them. Now for the next vessel. Three for luck."

The third was a British tramp, bound from Montevideo for Naples. Her "Old Man," although ignorant that a Round-the-World aerial race was in progress or even in contemplation, readily agreed to help the "Golden Hind" on her way.

"I'll find use for 'em," he added with infinite relish. "They'll work their pa.s.sage, never you fear. Three times I've been torpedoed without warning, and on two occasions Fritz popped up to jeer at us struggling in waterlogged boats."

While conversation was in progress between Fosterd.y.k.e and the master of the S.S. _Diaphanous_, a wire hawser had been lowered from the bows of the airs.h.i.+p and made fast to the tramp's after-winch. Since she was steaming dead in the eye of the wind there was no necessity for her to alter helm. The "Golden Hind," pitching slightly, was towed astern of and thirty feet above the tramp. As the airs.h.i.+p's course was almost identical with that of the tramp Fosterd.y.k.e conscientiously kept the propellers revolving, since, even in the present circ.u.mstances, he did not wish to give his rivals a chance of raising a protest on the score that the flight of the British airs.h.i.+p had been mechanically aided.

The seventeen Germans showed no great enthusiasm at being placed on board the tramp. At first they imagined that the _Diaphanous_ was bound for the Pacific. Even the prospect of being dumped ash.o.r.e at Naples was not at all attractive.

When they did make a move they descended the rope-ladder so slowly and deliberately that it was obvious they meant to detain the "Golden Hind"

as much as possible.

"I see through their little game," exclaimed Fosterd.y.k.e, angrily. "Make 'em get a move on, Jackson."

The Leading Hand wanted no further bidding. Ably seconded by Chief Air Mechanic Hayward, he gave vent to such a flow of forcible language, accompanied by realistic dumbshow, that the Huns changed their tactics completely. It was even necessary to check their impetuosity, lest the ladder should break under the weight of too many men descending simultaneously. Then, with a joyous toot on her syren as the hawser was cast off, and a stentorian greeting from the Mercantile Marine skipper, the _Diaphanous_ gathered way, while the "Golden Hind," almost as buoyant as of yore, rose steadily and rapidly against the gentle breeze.

Two hours later land--the Moroccan coast--was sighted on the starboard bow. Then fifty minutes later Fosterd.y.k.e touched Kenyon on the shoulder and pointed dead ahead to a faint object rising above the horizon.

"Guess we've done the trick, barring accidents," he observed. "That's Gibraltar."

CHAPTER XXIV--WITHIN SIGHT OF SUCCESS

Count Karl von Sinzig had not started upon his long solo flight in the Albatross without studiously calculating his chances. He knew the machine and its capabilities, and, given ordinary luck, he saw no reason why he should not make a landing on Spanish soil, replenish fuel, and carry on to his hangar in Estremadura before his hated rival arrived at Gibraltar. Even if there were delays in obtaining petrol, he still had a useful lead, thanks to his twelve hours' start in advance of the "Golden Hind." The two hundred extra miles he had to cover beyond Gibraltar was a mere bagatelle--a question of an hour and twenty minutes' flight.

He rather regretted that the accident to Z64 had not occurred nearer the African coast; but realising that he was lucky to be able to carry on, he ran the risk of a prolonged flight over the sea with comparative equanimity.

Within an hour of leaving the wrecked Zeppelin he sighted two vessels, but with callous indifference to his promise to his crew he made not the slightest attempt to communicate with either of them. He was "all out"

to win the much-needed Chauva.s.se Prize. Even his indictment by the various Allied Governments hardly worried him. Time to consider what he should do in the matter when he was safe on Spanish soil, he decided.

The Albatross, one of the best types of German machines, was practically an automatic flier. Von Sinzig could keep her on her course by an occasional pressure with his feet upon the rudder-bar, thus leaving both hands free. He was able to eat and drink, to study maps and make observations without risk of the monoplane getting out of control, while if needs be he could leave the pilot's seat, knowing that the Albatross would hold on automatically for several minutes with only a slight deviation in direction and hardly any difference in alt.i.tude.

Although only ten degrees north of the Tropics, it was bitterly cold at ten thousand feet; but the count had taken due precautions to combat the low temperature. He was warmly clad in orthodox flying kit, including sheepskin boots, fleece-lined leather jacket and trousers, all electrically heated. He had four thermos flasks filled with hot coffee and a pocket flask of brandy. For provisions he carried concentrated food, beef lozenges, and Strasburg sausages.

Hour after hour pa.s.sed. The Albatross was flying magnificently, her pilot holding on to a compa.s.s course, after making due allowances for the "drift" of the air current. He had based this allowance upon the direction of the wind when he left Z64; but unknown to him the light breeze had s.h.i.+fted eight points and was now blowing slightly ahead of his port beam. Then, having backed, it presently veered six points and blew with increasing force right against the Albatross; but von Sinzig was for the present in ignorance of the fact. Had he known that instead of a following breeze of about twenty miles an hour there was a head wind approaching the neighbourhood of thirty-five miles, he would not have been so chock-a-block with confidence.

When, at the end of the time limit he had set, he was not in sight of land he began to feel anxious. Half an hour later, as he was still without a glimpse of the coast, his misgivings increased, but ten minutes later he picked up land on his right. This was a puzzle. He had expected to make a landfall right ahead, and its appearance in an unexpected quarter mystified him. In point of fact he was in the neighbourhood of Cape Blanco, or nearly 250 miles south of Cape St.

Vincent, where he hoped to pa.s.s over on his way to Estremadura.

A knowledge of the Moroccan coast obtained during a cruise in a German gunboat at the time of the Agadir crisis stood von Sinzig in good stead.

He was able to recognise certain landmarks in spite of viewing them from a different aspect, and accordingly he turned the monoplane in a north-easterly direction, keeping parallel to the African coast, The new direction would take him a little to the eastward of Cadiz; rather nearer that port than Gibraltar. He had not the slightest inclination to fly over the latter fortress. Rather vaguely he wondered whether he would sight the "Golden Hind" making thither, since, sooner or later, unless a mishap occurred, the rival aviators must cut each other's routes.

He was now painfully aware of the change of wind. The direction of the smoke from several steamers, and the sight of a full-rigged s.h.i.+p running in a south-westerly direction told him that. Additionally, as he saw by the aid of his binoculars, that sailing s.h.i.+p was running under topsails only. That meant something more than a stiff breeze--and against this he had to contend.

Suddenly he detected an ominous cough of the motor. He knew that the petrol supply was running low, but he had no idea that the gauge registered so little. The tank was practically empty.

"Himmel!" gasped the dumfounded Hun. "Will she last out?"

He mentally measured the distance between him and the Spanish coast. A good ten miles. With a following wind he could glide that distance from that alt.i.tude, but not with this infernal head wind!

The engine was running jerkily. Clearly its spasmodic coughing betokened the fact that it would soon cease duty from sheer inanition.

Its life-blood was being cut off at the heart of the machine--its petrol tank. That head wind. How von Sinzig cursed it! Had it been in his favour, even if he failed to volplane as far as the sh.o.r.e, the Albatross, being provided with floats, could have drifted on the surface.

In the midst of his incoherent utterances von Sinzig realised that the motor had at last given out. He trimmed the ailerons and prepared for a long glide, but, as he had feared, the head wind made it a matter of impossibility for the Albatross to cover more than two miles before she alighted.

It did not take long to complete the volplane, although the pilot nursed his machine to the best of his ability in the hope of prolonging the oblique descent.

The Albatross "landed" badly, her floats striking the water with a resounding smack. The count, having done his best, could do no more.

He sat smoking a cigarette and keeping a look out for a vessel that would come to his a.s.sistance. There were several away to the south'ard, for he had alighted well to the north'ard of the regular steamer track between Gibraltar and Cape St. Vincent. They were too far off to notice the little Albatross.

Then von Sinzig made the disconcerting discovery that the starboard float was leaking. Already, owing to this cause, the monoplane was listing so that her starboard wing-tip was touching the water. This fact, combined with the knowledge that he was momentarily drifting farther and farther away from land, did not tend to improve the Hun's peace of mind.

Half an hour later, during which time the monoplane had drifted at least three miles, and was being considerably buffeted by the rising sea, von Sinzig noticed that a vessel was bearing down upon the crippled Albatross.

As she approached, the count saw that she was a small motor-yacht of about forty or fifty tons, and that she was flying the burgee of the "Real Club Mediterraneo" and the Spanish ensign. The sight of the Spanish colours gave von Sinzig renewed hope.

The yacht slowed down and lost way a few yards to the wind'ard of the monoplane. For so small a vessel she carried a large crew. There were half a dozen men for'ard, clad in white canvas jumpers and trousers and wearing red woollen caps. Aft were two gorgeously attired individuals in gold-laced yachting uniforms.

Von Sinzig, who was a fair Spanish linguist, hailed them. A rope thrown from the bows of the yacht fell across the nose of the Albatross. This the count caught and secured.

"Can you supply me with petrol, senor?" asked von Sinzig. "My tank is empty. A hundred litres will be enough."

One of the gold-laced men shook his head and extended his hands, palms uppermost.

"I am desolated at being compelled to refuse your excellency's modest request," he replied, "but we have paraffin engines and carry only a small quant.i.ty of petrol for starting purposes. How far have you come?"

"Nearly round the world," replied the Hun, grandiloquently. He could not resist the typically Teutonic trait of self-advertis.e.m.e.nt.

"Dios!" exclaimed the Spaniard, twirling his long moustachios. "Then you are Count Karl von Sinzig, who left Quintanur, in the province of Estremadura, sixteen or seventeen days ago?"

"I am," admitted von Sinzig, proudly.