Round the World in Seven Days

by Herbert Strang

  CHAPTER VIII

  A SHIP ON FIRE

  Rodier had his full share of the Gallic dash which had won firsthonours in airmanship for France, but it was combined with thecoolness and circumspection bred of scientific training, so that Smithwas able to take repose in serene confidence that, barring accidents,the aeroplane would fly as safely under Rodier's charge as under hisown. Karachi was soon a mere speck amid the sand. In less thanhalf-an-hour the aeroplane was crossing the swampy delta of the Indus.Soon afterwards it flew over the Run of Cutch into Gujarat, leavingthe hills of Kathiawar on the right. Sweeping over the head of theGulf of Cambay, it crossed the railway line from Bombay to Baroda, andthen the broad river Nerbudda. The city gleaming white in thesunlight, far to the left, must be Baroda itself. The course traced bySmith in the few minutes before leaving Karachi, avoided the highwestern Ghauts that fringe the Indian coast to far south of Bombay.Rodier therefore steered somewhat to the east, coming in the courseof twenty minutes to the river Tapti. Seeing a line of mountainsstraight ahead, he swung round still more to the east, following thevalley of the river until he had completely turned the mountains, thenorthernmost spurs of the Ghauts.

  Now he turned south-east once more, crossed the Chandaur chain, andpresently came in sight of the Godaveri river, which traverses thewhole breadth of Hyderabad. Near Indor he left the river on his left.By this time it was becoming dark. Smith still slept, and Rodier, whowas not able to steer by the stars, was considering whether he had notbetter waken his employer when he spied the characteristic glare froma locomotive furnace far ahead. In half-a-minute he had caught up thetrain, and slowed down to make sure of the direction in which therailway ran. He found that it was almost exactly south-south-east, andconcluded from a glance at the map that he was above the connection ofthe Hyderabad railway running from Warangal to the coast of the Bay ofBengal. Reassured, he resolved to let Smith have his sleep out,followed the line until it swept eastward at Secunderabad, and then,steering a little to the left, put the engine once more to full speed.In less than an hour afterwards he saw a vast expanse of waterglistening in the light of the rising moon, and knew that he hadreached the sea.

  Being by this time thoroughly stiff and tired, and knowing, moreover,that Smith would navigate the aeroplane over the sea with much morecertainty than himself, he shouted to awaken him. This provingineffectual, he leant over and nudged his shoulder. Smith was awake inan instant.

  "Where are we?" he cried; but no answer was necessary; he saw the seabelow him, and stretching far to the east, north, and south. Heexchanged places with Rodier, who, too tired even to eat, fell asleepat once.

  "Good thing he woke me," thought Smith. It was one thing to fly overland, with guiding marks in the shape of rivers, mountains, and otherphysical features that could be recognized more or less easily fromthe map; and quite another to cross the pathless ocean. But with acompass and a clear sky the course would present no difficulty to aseaman, and Smith settled down to a flight that would be withoutobstruction for at least seven hundred miles.

  He knew that in the Bay of Bengal the prevailing wind at that seasonis south-westerly. Whether there was any wind or not it was impossibleto ascertain while the aeroplane was maintaining its enormous speed;certainly there was none to cause unsteadiness. If wind there was, itblew in his, favour, and all that he would have to do would be toallow in steering for a slight northerly drift. He would certainlysight the Nicobar group, and possibly the Andaman Islands if he didnot make sufficient allowance for the wind; but he was determined notto alight if he could help it until he arrived at Penang; he had losttime enough already.

  It was the first time he had flown across so wide an expanse of sea,and he felt a touch of anxiety lest the engine should break down. Ifany accident should happen he had made up his mind that the only thingto be done was to don the lifebuoys, cut the engine loose, and trustto the buoys to keep them and the planes afloat until their plight wasobserved from some passing vessel. In the darkness this would, ofcourse, prove a vain hope; even in daylight the chance that a vesselwould be in sight was remote. But the die was cast: the engine was asyet working perfectly; and in three or four hours, all being well, hewould come in sight of land.

  There being no obstruction to fear, he kept at a height of only ahundred feet above sea level. The sea was calm, gleaming like a sheetof silver in the moonlight, so that the aeroplane seemed to fly over acontinuous glistening track. Steadily it flew on; Smith had nothing todo but to sit still, feed the engine with petrol, and keep his eyesalternately on the compass and the stars.

  At length, about six o'clock by his watch--past eleven in thelongitude to which he had arrived--he caught sight ahead of a darkoutline on the water, no doubt a group of islands, though whether theAndamans or the Nicobars he did not feel sure. Knowing that they wereall hilly in formation, he slackened speed, intending to run downtheir coastline rather than cross them. It would not be difficult tofind one of the many channels between them through which he couldcontinue his flight, past the northern end of Sumatra to Penang. Bytaking a southerly course, moreover, he would, be able to assurehimself of his direction.

  After a short run parallel with the coastline he came to a widechannel which he believed to be, and subsequently ascertained to be,the Ten Degree channel between Little Andaman and Car Nicobar. Fromthis, if he was right, there would be an uninterrupted coursesouth-east to Penang. But within half-an-hour of entering the channel,still flying low, he suddenly ran into a dense cloud of exceedinglypungent smoke, which completely hid the sea beneath him. It made himcough, and woke Rodier with a start.

  "What's this, mister?" he shouted, rubbing his eyes.

  "Forest on fire," shouted Smith in reply, though he was surprised tomeet with the smoke so far from land as he supposed himself to be. Hehastily planed upwards, in case, by some error of navigation, he hadcome upon land and might endanger the aeroplane among hills ortree-tops, and also to avoid the risk of explosion from a stray spark.Still more surprised was he when, after only a few seconds, theaeroplane passed completely through the smoke, and he saw the seaagain. At that instant, just as they reached the windward side of thesmoke-cloud, which was evidently blown by an easterly wind, Rodiergave a cry.

  "Mon Dieu! A ship on fire!"

  Smith instantly checked the engine, and, swinging round in a narrowcircle, saw a dark shape below him from which smoke was pouring up.There was no flame, but as the aeroplane dropped gently downwardsSmith saw that Rodier's explanation must be correct, the ship being asailing vessel.

  A fire at sea is the sailor's worst terror. Urgent as was his ownerrand, Smith could not pass without at least inquiry, so he sankstill lower, steering as close alongside the vessel on the windwardside as the planes would allow. He perceived now that she wasdismasted and had a bad list. Lifting his megaphone, he shouted--

  "Ahoy there! Who are you?"

  No answer reached him, though he saw that the crew were crowding ondeck, gazing up at him, and one man, no doubt the captain, was makinga trumpet of his hands.

  "I can't hear owing to the noise of my engine," shouted Smith."Haven't you got a megaphone?"

  He was acutely conscious at that moment of two disadvantages which theairman had not yet been able to surmount. He had not yet invented anoiseless engine, nor could he keep the aeroplane motionless in theair. If Smith could have transformed his vessel for a few minutes intoa Zeppelin airship he would gladly have done it.

  Now a megaphone had been brought to the captain, and his words came,though faintly, to the ears of the airmen.

  "Barque _Elizabeth_, from Calcutta to Dundee with jute. Dismasted in acyclone ten days ago west of the Andamans; been adrift ever since.Fire broke out in cargo in the fore hold; had as much as we could doto keep it under; no time to rig a jury mast. Afraid of flamesbursting through any minute."

  He asked no questions and showed no surprise about the aeroplane. Itwas evident that he could give no thought to anything but thedesperate plight of his ves
sel.

  Smith was in great perplexity. He could do nothing for the ship;perhaps his best course would be to make all speed for the nearestport and send a steamer to her assistance. An idea struck him.

  "Can't you get off in your boats?" he called.

  "All carried away but one. She won't hold half of us. Besides, can'tdesert the ship."

  "Many passengers?"

  "Only my daughter."

  "His daughter, Roddy. I wish we could do something, but I don't knowwhat."

  "Ah! go down and lift her off, mister."

  Smith reflected. A girl would probably weigh little more than thepetrol they had consumed. The suggestion was feasible, and if thecaptain's daughter had pluck enough to risk the journey, no doubt herfather would be glad to know that she at least was safe.

  "We can but make 'em the offer," he said to Rodier; then shoutedthrough the megaphone: "We're coming down. Get your men to clear thedeck aft, and show lights and stand by to lend a hand."

  All this time the aeroplane was moving slowly in circles over thevessel, being still careful to keep on the windward side for fear ofsparks. When Smith's instructions had been carried out, he selected alanding place just abaft the mizzen and, warping his planesalternately, brought the aeroplane gently to the deck. Fortunatelythe bulwarks were sufficiently low not to catch the planes or thestays supporting them.

  Smith and Rodier stepped on deck, and were instantly surrounded by agroup of the officers and crew.

  "Get for'ard," shouted the captain to the men. "D'you want to see ablaze?"

  He was left with the first mate.

  "I'm in a pretty fix, sir," he said, after a rapid glance at Smith."We drifted south and southeast after the storm, then lay becalmed fora day or two; yesterday an east wind sprang up and carried usnorthward."

  "What are your bearings?" asked Smith. "I'm in the Navy."

  "You don't say so, sir! Yesterday's observations gave us latitude ninedegrees forty-seven minutes south and longitude ninety-four degreesthirty-two minutes east."

  "Well, look here, the best thing I can do is to run for a port andsend you help."

  "I'd take it very kind if you would, sir. I was thinking of sending mydaughter off in the boat to-morrow with a few men; but we've managedto keep the fire under so far, and if there's a chance of getting helpwithin a day, say, perhaps we can keep all together. It's terriblyrisky in these seas in an open boat."

  "Well, I'll set a course for Penang--"

  "Port Blair's nearer, sir, in South Andaman."

  "But I'm more likely to find a fast steamer at Penang. And as to yourdaughter, captain, she'd better come along with us."

  "In that what-you-may-call-it, sir?"

  "Yes, certainly. We can easily carry her, and make a comfortable seatfor her behind ours if you give us a cushion. We've come from London,so she needn't be afraid."

  "From London! Near seven thousand miles! Jigger me if ever I heard thelike of it! What do you think of that, Mr. McWhirter?"

  "Rather a long un," replied the mate.

  "Well, hang me, if you've come across the Bay of Bengal, you're sartinsure to be able to make Penang. She shall go with you, and that'll beone load off my mind. Go and fetch her, Mr. McWhirter. She's rather asuperior gal, sir, though I say it myself. She's had a rattling goodeddication; talks French like a native, and as for music and singing,I've never heard any gal as could touch her, that's a fact. Here sheis."

  Smith was not sorry that the outflow of paternal pride was checked. Hewanted to get on. A girl of about twenty came forward with the mate.She was very self-possessed, and met Smith's look frankly.

  "My daughter, Mr. ----. I don't know your name, sir," said thecaptain.

  "My name's Smith." He doffed his cap.

  "Now, Margy, my girl, Mr. Smith, who's in the Navy, is going to be sokind as to take you in his what-you-may-call-it to Penang, and send asteamer to take us off or tow us in, as the case may be."

  The girl looked startled, glancing from Smith to the aeroplane, andthen at her father.

  "I think I'd rather stay with you, Father," she said quietly.

  "And I'd rather you didn't," he said bluntly. "You don't know the riskas I do, my gal," he added kindly. "The blessed ship may blaze at anymoment."

  "I know, Father; but we've been in danger for several days, and I'vegot used to it."

  "Ay, that's true, and you've been an uncommon plucky girl, I _will_say. She ain't like them females that faint and go into high strikesand fidget your life out," he said to Smith, who observed the girl'sface flush. "Now, my dear, you'll go with Mr. Smith, and please yourold father. There ain't a morsel of danger; he's come safe all the wayfrom London, and I never see a better bit of manoeuvring, I _will_say, than when he brought the what-you-may-call-it down on the deck aslight as a feather. It'll be a big sight safer than this poor oldhulk, and I'll be thankful to know as you're safe in Penang. You canberth with my old friend Sam Upton and his missis, and please GodI'll come for you in a day or two."

  "I assure you, Miss--Miss Margaret," said Smith, "that there's reallyvery little risk. We've come six thousand odd miles safely, and it'snot far to Penang, you know. You won't be the first lady to fly in anaeroplane."

  "Ma foi, non!" cried Rodier, unable to keep silence any longer. "Imyself, mademoiselle, have kept company in an aeroplane with a lady.Ah, bah! vous parlez francais; eh bien! cette femme-la a ete ravie,enchantee; elle m'a assure que ce moment-la fut le plus heureux de savie."

  "Shut up, Roddy," whispered Smith, smiling, however, as he caught atwinkle of amusement in the girl's eyes.

  "I will go if you wish," she said to the captain, without replying toRodier.

  "That's right. Mr. McWhirter, will you please get a couple of cushionsand put them in the thingummy where Mr. Smith shows you."

  The seat was quickly prepared. Meanwhile Smith consulted with Rodieron the somewhat delicate problem how to make a start from the deck,which obviously did not afford more than a few feet of running-offspace. Rodier hit on a solution, and by the time the passenger's seatwas ready the necessary arrangements had been made.

  "Now, my gal," said the captain, "step aboard. You sing like a bird;it's only right you should fly like one." It was obvious that theworthy seaman was making clumsy efforts to be cheerful. "I'll see youin two days, or three at most; we've got a raft ready, you know, incase the fire beats us. But, bless you, I shouldn't be surprised if wehave a fire-engine coming through the sky next; there's no knowingwhat these clever young sparks won't be inventing. God bless you!"

  The girl threw her arms round her father's neck. Smith turned away;there were tears in the old man's eyes. The captain conducted her toher place. Then he took Smith aside.

  "You'll look after my gal, sir?" he said in an undertone. "She's allI've got. Suppose you _do_ come down; what then?"

  "I shall jettison the engine and keep afloat by the planes. We've acouple of life buoys, too. But I don't think we shall come down, somake yourself easy, and we'll save your vessel."

  "There's one man that never forgets a good turn, and that's JohnBunce. Where shall I find you in Penang, sir, if I get there safe?"

  "Oh! I shan't be there. I'm going straight on to the Solomon Islands."

  "Well, sir, if you're ever Rotherhithe way, you'll find me at 197Prince's Road; I'm retiring after this voyage. Margy'll be proud togive you a cup of tea, and I _will_ say I'd like you to hear hersing."

  "All right, I won't forget. All ready, Roddy?"

  "Ready and waiting, mister."

  Smith went to his place.

  "Are you quite comfortable, Miss Bunce?" he said, noticing that thegirl was pale and nervous. "I'm sorry I can't give you my seat, but myman and I must sit together. You'll forgive us for turning our backson you."

  The girl smiled faintly without speaking. Several of the crew hadranged themselves on each side of the aeroplane, to hold it steadyuntil the propellers had worked up a good speed. Smith started theengine; the deafening whirr began: then
at the word "Go!" the sailorsreleased their holds and the aeroplane lurched forward just clear ofthe bulwarks. Margaret Bunce clutched the rail nervously. One or twoof the men had been somewhat slow in letting go, causing the aeroplaneto cant over in a manner that was alarming to the onlookers. But longpractice with the aeroplane in all kinds of gusty weather haddeveloped in Smith an instinct for the right means of meeting anemergency of this nature. Like a bicyclist, he did the right thingwithout thinking. The vessel righted itself at a touch on the warpinglever, and in two or three seconds she was sailing rapidly away fromthe ship.