CHAPTER XXIII--A DUMPING OPERATION
The heavily-laden "Golden Hind" resumed her delayed journey. Bothgas-bags and planes had to do their full share of work to keep theairship afloat. She was flying low, but making good progress; but solittle was her reserve of buoyancy that had the three Huns who perishedin the catastrophe to Z64 been saved, it was doubtful whether Fosterdykecould have "carried on."
To make matters worse, some of the patches on the repaired ballonetswere leaking, for owing to the heat of the rubber the solution was notholding well.
"I wonder if Drake's 'Golden Hind,' when she arrived in the Thames aftercircumnavigating the globe, was patched up like we are," remarkedKenyon. "It took Drake three long years to do the trick, and we looklike completing our voyage in under seventeen days."
"If the old 'bus holds out," added Bramsdean. "'Tany rate, no one cansay we haven't done our bit. The 'Golden Hind's' been a regular sort ofaerial lifeboat. That is some satisfaction. I'd rather we did that thanwin the race."
"I suppose our passengers won't get up to any of their Hunnish tricks?"observed Kenneth.
"Trust Fosterdyke for that," replied Peter grimly. "He's had 'em placedin the dining-saloon. (Fortunately, we won't require many more meals.)They can amuse themselves there without getting into mischief. There'sone 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 fromthe S.S. _Wontwash_ reports that a monoplane passed over the ship at 6P.M., flying east. According to the position given, the _Wontwash_ wasonly 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 'busyet, although two of the Australian R.A.F. pilots are bringing him a'Bristol' machine from Melbourne. He's out of the running. That headmits, but he means to complete the course, even if it takes him sixmonths."
"And the Jap?" asked Kenyon.
"Not a word," replied the baronet. "He's keeping quiet; but mark mywords, that quadruplane will turn up unexpectedly. If his 'bus had hadBritish motors, he would have romped home in less than a week."
"What engines has he?" asked Bramsdean.
"Japanese," replied Fosterdyke. "Passable imitations of ours and goodup to a certain point; but give me British engines all the jolly oldtime."
Although the baronet made frequent enquiries of the operator, nowireless 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 ninelives. He's playing his own game."
"It is a game," added Bramsdean. "Loading that crowd of Huns on to us islike a man in a mile race chucking his gear to another competitor andtelling him to hang on. I don't wish the blighter any harm, but I dohope that if he pulls off the money prize they'll pay him in Germanmarks at the pre-war rate of exchange. That'd make him look blue!"
Although no news came in concerning their Hun rival, the officers andcrew of the "Golden Hind" began to be bombarded with wireless messagesfrom Britons in every quarter of the globe. All were of the mostencouraging nature, for the story of Fosterdyke's airship and heradventures and misadventures--all more or less distorted owing to thelack of authentic detail--had awakened world-wide interest.
There were cheery messages from patriotic Britons; incentive ones fromsportsmen, to whom the suggestion of a race appealed more than did thefact that the contest was one of endurance calculated to uphold theprestige of British flying men. Frenchmen, Dutchmen, Norwegians,Americans, and Japanese all sent greetings to the intrepid Britishairmen.
"Didn't know we had so many friends," remarked Fosterdyke."Sportsmanlike of those Americans and Japs, too, when they haverepresentatives in the show."
The "Golden Hind" was now approaching the regular mail line, whereroutes to and from the Cape and round the Horn unite in theneighbourhood of Las Palmas.
"We'll signal the first vessel we sight," decided Sir Reginald, "and gether to relieve us of our cargo of Fritzes. The sooner the better,because several of the ballonets are showing distinct symptoms ofporosity."
Five minutes later the airship had slowed down and had swung round on acourse parallel to a homeward-bound Dutchman.
The skipper of the latter, when appealed to by megaphone, stoutlyrefused to receive the seventeen Germans. He gave no reason why heshould not do so, and without waiting for further parley rang for fullspeed ahead.
A little later a French auxiliary barque was sighted, bound south.
Fosterdyke made no attempt to intercept her.
"There are limits," he observed. "Dumping those Huns on board anoutward-bound Frenchman is one of them. Now for the next vessel. Threefor 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 inprogress or even in contemplation, readily agreed to help the "GoldenHind" on her way.
"I'll find use for 'em," he added with infinite relish. "They'll worktheir passage, never you fear. Three times I've been torpedoed withoutwarning, and on two occasions Fritz popped up to jeer at us strugglingin waterlogged boats."
While conversation was in progress between Fosterdyke and the master ofthe S.S. _Diaphanous_, a wire hawser had been lowered from the bows ofthe airship and made fast to the tramp's after-winch. Since she wassteaming dead in the eye of the wind there was no necessity for her toalter helm. The "Golden Hind," pitching slightly, was towed astern ofand thirty feet above the tramp. As the airship's course was almostidentical with that of the tramp Fosterdyke conscientiously kept thepropellers revolving, since, even in the present circumstances, he didnot wish to give his rivals a chance of raising a protest on the scorethat the flight of the British airship had been mechanically aided.
The seventeen Germans showed no great enthusiasm at being placed onboard the tramp. At first they imagined that the _Diaphanous_ was boundfor the Pacific. Even the prospect of being dumped ashore at Naples wasnot at all attractive.
When they did make a move they descended the rope-ladder so slowly anddeliberately that it was obvious they meant to detain the "Golden Hind"as much as possible.
"I see through their little game," exclaimed Fosterdyke, angrily. "Make'em get a move on, Jackson."
The Leading Hand wanted no further bidding. Ably seconded by Chief AirMechanic Hayward, he gave vent to such a flow of forcible language,accompanied by realistic dumbshow, that the Huns changed their tacticscompletely. It was even necessary to check their impetuosity, lest theladder should break under the weight of too many men descendingsimultaneously. Then, with a joyous toot on her syren as the hawser wascast off, and a stentorian greeting from the Mercantile Marine skipper,the _Diaphanous_ gathered way, while the "Golden Hind," almost asbuoyant as of yore, rose steadily and rapidly against the gentle breeze.
Two hours later land--the Moroccan coast--was sighted on the starboardbow. Then fifty minutes later Fosterdyke touched Kenyon on the shoulderand pointed dead ahead to a faint object rising above the horizon.
"Guess we've done the trick, barring accidents," he observed. "That'sGibraltar."
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