Read Our Young Aeroplane Scouts in Russia; or, Lost on the Frozen Steppes Page 21


  CHAPTER XXI.

  SAVED BY SEAPLANES.

  The boy pilots completed their many hours of trying vigil at the wheelsof the largest aeroplane ever built by guiding the immense craft tohousing place on the shore, and in the first night period of relaxationwere drowsily dead to the world.

  "We'll be twisting the heads off one another if we lie this close,"jollied Billy, when his chum and himself rolled into blankets on theverge of dreamland, "for I'm still bow-legged in the arms from holdingthose spokes, and the motion won't leave me."

  This humor was lost on Henri, for he had gone over the border, and noreturn until next sunrise.

  No need to awaken the youngsters from the eight hours of slumber duethem, for the morning will do well enough for an interesting discoverycoming their way.

  Anticipating this awakening and a grand surprise, however, it may bestated that among the operators of the war-planes identified with thesuperdreadnaught "Warspite," then lying off Tenedos island, were acouple of airmen of some renown along the coast of the North Sea. Theyanswered to the names of the Leonidas Johnson, with complimentary titleof captain, and Josiah Freeman, one time of Boston, U. S. A.

  Then, again, in the British submarine E-14, even then returning from areconnoissance in the Dardanelles mine field, there was a sailor ladfrom Dover, Jimmy Stetson, surely remembered in the live days when ourYoung Aeroplane Scouts were campaigning in France and Belgium.

  Stirring times in front when these time-tried, powder-burned excitementseekers get together once more!

  Lieutenant Moppa was exhibiting the fine points of the "Sikorsky" to agroup of British naval officers and war-plane experts when Billy andHenri sauntered in that direction, sound sleep and a good breakfasthaving restored them to normal condition.

  Something that the Russian said caused a turning of all eyes upon theapproaching lads.

  Two of the group opened their mouths as well as their eyes.

  "Jumping Jehoshaphat," cried one of the pair, breaking the spell thatbound him, "if it isn't our long-lost flying boys!"

  "By the great hornspoon," almost shouted the other, "the dead is alive!"

  While all the rest of the party looked on in astonishment, the comingcouple and the waiting two indulged in a veritable war dance,accompanied by handshaking and shoulder-slapping, until the four werebreathless and compelled to desist.

  "I'm not a bit surprised now, sir," declared Captain Johnson, addressingthe Russian officer; "these kids are the candy in that game, born to it,sir; born to it!"

  Lieutenant Moppa, while somewhat puzzled as to the "candy"qualification, nevertheless appreciated the spirit of the hurrahindorsement.

  "Set up a sky contest, sir," added Freeman, "and they wouldn't havespace on their clothes for all the medals they would capture."

  "Oh, you fellows dry up," laughed Billy, "or you will get us arrestedfor false pretense. My first duty is to Henri; he must be kept out ofjail at all hazards."

  Henri was about to retort in kind when he received a slap on the backthat startled the idea out of his mind.

  "Jimmy!"

  Billy and Henri spoke in one breath, and the onlookers were amused byanother animated walk-around.

  Then the insistent call of duty broke in upon the reunion. Johnson andFreeman climbed into a war-plane for the morning reconnoitering flightover the straits, and the submarine upon which Jimmy served put out tosea on mission unknown.

  Our boys looked to Lieutenant Moppa for some stirring order that wouldput them again in action, but that officer made no sign that wouldindicate immediate movement of the big airship. The surmise was that themighty craft would be held in reserve for the allies' next concentratedeffort to force the Dardanelles.

  It occurred to Billy and Henri that they could obtain permission toserve with Johnson and Freeman in the war-planes in case ofemergency--and to their eminent satisfaction such leave was granted, foraviators were in constant demand. The heavily mined waters made closescouting in surface boats an exceedingly precarious proposition, andinside the straits the fort guns speedily put anything but a submarineout of business. Even the underwater craft had short shrift whenexposed.

  A day passed with no call for the services of the young pilots, but whenthe summons did come it was in a hurry-up manner, and involved a ventureperilous to the extreme.

  Submarine E-14 was aground on Kephez point!

  The submarine boat had started from Tenedos island at midnight, enteredthe Dardanelles at 2:20 in the morning and dived at 2:30 to avoid thesearchlights. Carried forward by the strong current it grounded fourhours later, with the conning tower showing out of the water.

  Picket boats reported at Tenedos that the stranded submarine was underfire from the Turkish batteries, and that there was little or no chanceof the crew escaping annihilation.

  Captain Johnson, engaged in conversation at the time with Billy andHenri, upon hearing the direful news, cried out:

  "That's Jimmy Stetson's boat!"

  "Can't we do anything?" was Billy's frantic query.

  "We can volunteer to make a try," replied the captain, as he raced tothe water front, closely followed by the excited boys.

  Freeman was standing near the seaplane station when the runners arrived.

  Captain Johnson reeled off the story of the submarine mishap withtelegraph speed.

  "I'm in it every minute," stoutly declared Josh, when advised of therescue movement.

  The volunteers instantly received the orders they sought, and with equalcelerity set out on a mission that literally meant flying in the face ofdeath.

  They rode in two seaplanes that many times before had weathered stormsof shot and shell.

  Captain Johnson, himself, veteran of the air, acted as pilot in thelead, for he knew the direct route to the scene of the submarinedisaster, and with Henri at the motor end. Billy guided the escortmachine, with Josh behind him.

  The seaplanes, of the very largest type, had capacity to carry, in ashort run, at least a dozen of the submarine crew, if, indeed, that manyhad survived the pitiless fire to which they had for nearly an hour beenexposed, and which fusillading had crippled the electric power applianceof the underwater craft.

  Sweeping around the point, the shattered submarine was located byupstanding bridge and periscope, but the crew had been obliged to leavethe boat and crawl out into the mud which held the bow aground.

  Through an atmosphere dense with powder smoke, the seaplanes sped likebolts, and then striking the water with a force that tossed spray inevery direction.

  The submarine captain and three of the crew had been killed, and ofthose still alive seven were wounded. To cover the movement of theseaplanes, the "Warspite" and other British warships kept a rain ofshells falling in the vicinity of the Turkish battery.

  When the seaplanes lifted from the water, the wounded members of thesubmarine crew were crowded inside, and others clung to the rigging. Thepowerful motors responded wonderfully to the test.

  Reaching the turn of the point without being brought down by the partingshots from the Turkish battery, the overloaded aircraft soon settled inthe shelter of the warships outside the entrance of the straits.

  "Glory be!"

  Billy's high note of rejoicing had been sounded.

  And there was Jimmy Stetson, without a mark, astride the bow of theseaplane!

  Other aviators in lighter machines now hovered over the submarine,dropping bombs on the works above water, with the purpose of renderingthe lost vessel absolutely useless to the Turks.

  "That was a scary come-through, all right," said Jimmy to Billy, whenonce within the safety line. "I saw my finish out on that mud pile, andI guess I didn't care much after Captain Gardiner fell dead on thebridge. But somehow, when I saw those seaplanes swooping down, andglimpsed Captain Johnson, I took a fresh hold on hope. And, lo andbehold, when I splashed out to the planes who should be sitting in thereas large as life but you and Henri. It was th
e spirit again of the braveold days."

  "We surely have had some close calls together, come to think of it,"recalled Billy.

  "Well, now that the good boat, E-14, has gone by the board, I am out ofa job," sighed Jimmy; "I knew that craft like a book, and no betterdiver than she is in the service."

  "Brace up, Master James," was Billy's word of cheer, accompanied by aslap between the shoulders of the Dover boy.

  Jimmy, it proved, had no reason to complain of enforced leisure; indeed,the only change in his line of duty was that by boat register he movedahead a couple of numbers, hereafter to travel in E-16--and thisunderwater craft happened to be the very one detailed to attempt thedifficult and hazardous task of cutting a submarine cable.

  Billy and Henri were to have a share in this same risky enterprise, butwithout knowledge in advance of what was coming to them.