CHAPTER XVIII--UNDER FIRE
"It's going to be a close race, Kenyon," remarked Fosterdyke, as Z64crossed the "Golden Hind's" bows at a distance of less than a mile.
"Guess we're top-dog, though," replied Kenneth. "We've wiped out theHun's useful lead, and at the half-way point we're practically level."
"Yes," agreed the baronet; "but we must not ignore the element ofchance. Let me see"--he referred to the large Mercator map--"accordingto the latest reports, Commodore Nye's 'Eagle' is at Khartoum. His hopacross the Atlantic and a non-stop run over the Sahara takes a lot ofbeating. I'd like to meet that Yankee. And there's the Jap, CountHyashi. He's at Panama, after having been hung up for three days atHonolulu. If he'd been able to carry on without a hitch, his quadruplanewould have won the race. So it appears that all the competitors havecompleted half the course at practically the same time."
"Aeroplane approaching, sir," reported Collings.
Right ahead a biplane was heading towards the "Golden Hind," followed atclose intervals by three more. Seemingly ignoring the German airship,which was now on a diverging course, the four machines with admirableprecision turned and accompanied the British airship.
Two took up station on either side of the "Golden Hind." Each flew theNew Zealand ensign. It was Fosterdyke's preliminary welcome to theAntipodes.
Gliding serenely earthwards in perfectly calm air, the "Golden Hind"entered the big shed prepared for her reception. The civic officials ofAuckland turned out in force, supported by crowds of "Diggers" and afair sprinkling of Maoris.
"We quite understand," was the mayor's remark when Fosterdyke, thankinghim for the warmness of his reception, firmly but courteously refused toattend a banquet proposed to be given in his honour. "This is a race,not a ceremonial tour. The prestige of the Empire is at stake, so get onwith it."
Accordingly, the "Golden Hind's" crew did "get on with it." Aided byscores of willing helpers, they replenished fuel tanks, took in freshwater and provisions and necessary stores. A representative of theInternational Air Board was in attendance to sign the control sheet,certifying that the "Golden Hind" had completed half the circuit, andhad touched at a spot within a degree of the opposite point of the globeto his starting-point. Within an hour and a quarter of her arrival atAuckland the British airship started on her homeward voyage.
Although New Zealand had no cause to show any goodwill towards the Huns,von Sinzig had no reason to complain of his reception. He was receivedcoldly, it is true, but the New Zealanders, sportsmen all, were not onesto put obstacles in the way of an alien and former enemy.
Notified by wireless of Z64's impending arrival at Napier, theauthorities at that town had cylinders of hydrogen and a large stock ofpetrol in readiness for the German airship's requirements. Within tenminutes of the "Golden Hind's" departure from Auckland Z64 started fromNapier.
The contest had now entered upon a more interesting phase. It wasalmost certain that the rivals would take a practically identicalcourse, crossing the American continent in the neighbourhood of theIsthmus of Panama. The lofty Andes, extending like a gigantic backbonefrom Colombia to Patagonia--an almost uninterrupted range 450 miles inlength--presented a difficult, though not exactly insurmountableobstacle to the rival airships.
Vainly the wireless operators of the "Golden Hind" sought to "pick up"the Zeppelin. Von Sinzig had seen to that, for directly the Germanairship left New Zealand he gave orders that on no account were messagesto be transmitted, but on the other hand, the receivers were to beconstantly in use, in order to pick up any radiograms that might throwlight upon the movements of the "Golden Hind."
Apart from the chagrin at the knowledge that his attempt to burn theBritish airship was a failure, von Sinzig felt rather elated. Hisdeceptive report of the course he had taken from Java to New Zealand hadbeen accepted by the authorities without question; hence no suspicioncould possibly be attached to him for the burning of the Fremantleaerodrome. He was also of the opinion that Z64 was a swifter craft thanher rival, and possessed another advantage--that of greaterfuel-carrying capacity. Even if the "Golden Hind" did possess a higherspeed, she would have to alight more frequently to replenish her tanks.
As far as the "Golden Hind" was concerned the run across the Panama wasalmost devoid of incident. With the exception of a distant view ofPitcairn Island--famous in connection with the mutiny of the_Bounty_--no land was sighted until Galapagos Group was seen ten mileson the starboard bow.
The "Golden Hind" was now re-crossing the equator. Fosterdyke, who hadcrossed the line at least a dozen times, in all sorts of vessels fromluxuriant liners to singy tramps, and even on one occasion on board awind-jammer, declared that there was nothing to beat an airship fortravelling in the Tropics.
"For one thing you can keep cool," he added; "another, that will appealto a good many people, is the fact that an airship is beyond reach ofFather Neptune and his merry myrmidons. And the Doldrums, instead ofbeing regarded as a terror, afford an easy passage to aircraft of alldescriptions."
With the setting of the sun a thick mist arose--one of those humidtropical mists that are responsible for malaria and other zymoticdiseases peculiar to the Torrid Zone.
At a couple or three thousand feet altitude, the "Golden Hind" was inpure clear air, but in the brief twilight the banks of mist as viewedfrom above were picturesque in the extreme.
But to the crew of the "Golden Hind" the picturesqueness of the scenewas in a measure unappreciated. They were nearing land, and a fog wasone of the most undesirable climatic conditions. Not only was time aconsideration, but the petrol supply was running low. But for this,Fosterdyke would have slowed down and cruised around until the mistsdispersed with daybreak.
"We'll have to risk it and make a descent," he declared. "Anywherewithin easy distance of Panama will do, because it is a calm night andthere will be little or no risk of the 'Golden Hind' being exposed to ahigh wind. Thank goodness we've directional wireless."
At length Fosterdyke felt convinced that the "Golden Hind" was nearingPanama. He had arranged by wireless to detonate three explosiverockets, and the United States Air Station was to reply with a similarsignal, while searchlights, directed vertically, would enable theairship to locate the landing-ground.
"Hanged if I can see any searchlights," exclaimed Bramsdean.
"Killed by the mist," explained the baronet. "I fancy I see a blurr oflight two points on our port bow. What's that, Truscott?"
The wireless operator had left his cabin and was standing behindFosterdyke as the latter was peering through the darkness.
"There's a jam for some reason," announced Truscott. "For the last fiveminutes I've been calling up Panama, but there's nothin' doin'. Ahigh-powered installation, using the same metre-wave, is cutting in. Iasked them to knock off, but they haven't done so."
"Inconsiderate blighters!" exclaimed Fosterdyke. "Never mind, Truscott,we can get along all right now. I fancy I can see the aerodromelights."
"Yes, sir," agreed Kenyon. "One point on our port bow now."
"Then fire the rockets," ordered the baronet, at the same timetelegraphing for the motors to be declutched.
Three vivid flashes rent the darkness, their brilliance illuminating awide area of the fog-bank a thousand feet below, while the report echoedover the level line of misty vapour like a continuous peal of thunder.
Within a minute of the discharge of the third rocket two bursts offlame, accompanied by sharp reports, occurred at a distance of less thana quarter of a mile of the "Golden Hind's" port quarter, while after aninterval of fifteen seconds three more exploded simultaneously in thesame direction.
"Guess Uncle Sam can't count," remarked Kenyon, imitating to perfectionthe nasal drawl of the typical New Englander.
"Looks to me like shrapnel," added Bramsdean. "Judging by the way thesmoke mushroomed, it reminds me of Archies over the Hun lines."
"Good enough, we'll drop gently," decided Fosterdyke. "Stand by wit
hthe holding-down lines and have a couple of grapnels ready."
The amount of brodium necessary to more than neutralise the liftingpower of the gas and the dead weight of the airship was exhausted fromthe requisite number of ballonets, and the "Golden Hind" began to sinkalmost vertically in the still air.
Within five minutes she entered the belt of mist--a warm,sickly-smelling atmosphere that reminded Kenyon of a hot-house.
"I hear voices," announced Peter.
Not far beneath the airship men were shouting and talking excitedly, butthe crew of the "Golden Hind" were unable to understand what the menwere saying.
"Ahoy, there!" hailed Fosterdyke. "Stand by to take our ropes."
Both grapnels were carefully lowered, since there would be grave risksentailed by throwing them overboard. At the same time half a dozenholding-down ropes were paid out from each side of the nacelle. Thesewere caught by unseen hands and the airship was quickly drawn earthwardsat far too great a speed to please Sir Reginald Fosterdyke.
"Gently," he shouted. "Avast heaving."
The response was a terrible surprise. Simultaneously two searchlightswere unmasked, their powerful beams at short range punctuating the fogand impinging upon the enormous envelope of the "Golden Hind," while anirregular fusillade of musketry assailed the airship on all sides.
"Up with her!" shouted Fosterdyke. "Charge all the ballonets. We'vestruck a revolution."