CHAPTER VII
THROUGH THE STORM
Dinner that night was a rather somber occasion. The ship pitched badly,and there was a good deal of difficulty in keeping the dishes on thetable. When the waiters opened the door going into the galley, the chefcould be heard calling down curses on the day he had left home. Mr.Hamilton was silent but stoical, while his secretary was near collapse.Wally's verbosity was turned off like a spigot. He was green with fear.The reporters were suspiciously jovial. One of them was constructing alittle model parachute with a few bits of wood, cloth and string.Questioned, he said smilingly that he was going to send down a bottlewith a message in it.
Doctor Sims remarked gloatingly, "Last message, I take it, if we are _inextremis_. Very interesting indeed."
"Don't be morbid, Sims," said Doctor Trigg calmly. "Look out for yourcoffee, and try some of that souffle. What mortal could possiblyanticipate disaster when the cook can concoct such a delectable morsel?"
"Gr-r-r-r!" from Doctor Sims, lunging for the saltcellar as it skatedaway. "Your mental attitude, Martin, always inclines to the flippant anddicacious. Personally, I find the present exuberant actions of the shipmost distasteful."
"There goes your water," Doctor Trigg retorted rather unnecessarily, ashe held his own glass in one hand and speared souffle with the other.
"Grr-r-r-r-ruh," said Doctor Sims, rising unsteadily. He went to hiscabin to get dry clothes, clinging desperately to wall and chairs.
"Isn't he sweet?" said Dulcie.
Doctor Trigg studied her. "My dear, you have given me a new thought," hesaid seriously. "A perfectly new thought. Sims--sweet--well, well!"
The waiters hurriedly cleared the tables. With growing apprehension, thepassengers clustered at the windows to watch the void beyond. Intervalsof calm, as they passed the space between two storms, raised falsehopes, for they were soon plunged into a roaring madness of elements.
Then, all at once, they were in a maelstrom of elemental fury. Above,below, around them, a gale whined and shrieked. Solid sheets of waterbuffeted the ship, while flashes of lightning were continuous and sovivid that the control room was bathed in an intense, livid glare. Here,there, and everywhere storms gathered, moved upon the ship, and beat hermercilessly. As the gusts beset her from all sides, she pitched madly.
They were now flying about a mile above the surface of the sea. Mr.Hammond came staggering into the control room and stood near David, butneither spoke.
Ahead of them, mountainous clouds, looking as solid as a wall, rose upas though to block their path. Rain continued to fall in torrents, withhail and snow. The thunder roared, bellowed, and reverberated.
In the salon, the passengers huddled in groups with the stoic acceptanceof any situation that is characteristic of the American people. DoctorSims calmly watched the unbelievable panorama, jotting down anoccasional note by the intense glare of the lightning. Dulcie clungclose to Doctor Trigg, who, also calm, strove to quiet the girl'snatural apprehension with little jokes and whimsical stories.
The majority of the crew were in the hull. The engineers of course wereat their posts. Red, sure-footed as a cat, seemed to be everywhere atonce. The ship quivered under the lashing of the storm like a livething. At times she was lifted more than three hundred feet above hercourse, then plunged in a delirious drop of nearly a thousand feettoward the sea, before she could be steadied. She seemed wrapped insolid sheets of lightning. The duralumin framework was fully chargedwith electricity, and tongues of electricity were being sprayed awayfrom all edges, points and corners. The cables were glowing with violetlight.
David watched anxiously for an opening or "hole" through the sheets oflightning, through which he might contrive to drop down to the possiblesafety of a lower level. He was determined to make the attempt. Eachtime that they had been tossed upward, he had found that a worsecondition, if possible, existed in the upper altitudes. They were stillabout a mile above the sea. The din was so great that speech had becomeimpossible. Mr. Hammond, at his elbow, continually indicated a rise; butDavid had reached the place where, as long as he held the wheel, hewould have to follow his own judgment. So he crept on, watching withstrained eyes for a hole in the floor.
Wally, on hands and knees, had managed to reach his cabin, where hecowered, utterly undone. He buckled on a parachute and decided to jumpas soon as the ship turned nose down. Suddenly he felt a forwardinclination; the ship was certainly tipping. Wally slid and scrambledinto the salon.
"Jump! Jump! She's gone!" he croaked hoarsely and, reaching the window,struggled to open it. Like a cat Doctor Sims was upon him, circling himwith thin wiry arms and legs. Together they rolled on the floor, andDoctor Sims slapped him smartly on the face. It brought the nearlycrazed man back to his senses. They sat up, Wally making no move toescape.
"Why, you amorphous protoplasm!" screamed Doctor Sims. "You congenitalmoronic microbe! You--you unspeakable NUT!"
It was too much. As Wally slumped, Dulcie hid her face in Doctor Trigg'scoat. In the din, a wild burst of laughter became nothing but a seriesof open mouths and contorted faces. But the tension of terror hadsnapped.
They had run the gamut of emotions, from the first cold prick of fear tothe abandon of terror, and then to the ridiculous explosion.
It was then that David saw a black spot which might be a "hole."Cautiously he turned the trembling ship, and managed to approach it. Hefound that it was the haven which might save them, and carefullymaneuvered her down into the whirling pit. The storm-tossed craftsteadied, and with a great sigh of relief David lowered the Moonbeamdown and down, into an area of miraculous calm.
Below, the sea had been beaten into a flat surface by the driving rain.Above, the terrible floor of storm-tossed clouds had become a roof, fromwhich hung wisps and threads of mist. A cold, clean, steady wind drovethem toward the east. Once more David could hear the beloved, everydaynoises of the ship.
They were safe.
Doctor Trigg patted Dulcie, and looked at his watch. "Only fouro'clock," he said cheerily.
"Four days!" groaned a reporter.
"That indicates the inadequacy of time as we divide it," said DoctorTrigg, "Eh, Sims?"
"Get up!" growled Doctor Sims, glaring at Wally. "And go to your room!"
Wally, scrambling up, obeyed.
"Twenty lines of Latin is indicated, too, Sims," said Doctor Trigg,chuckling, "but don't be too hard on the poor boy. His reaction isentirely a matter of temperament."
Doctor Sims rose. "Gr-r-r-r-r!" he retorted, and dusted his knees.
In the control room, David could scarcely realize that the danger wasreally past. He felt weak and shaken.
"Give me the wheel," said Van Arden's voice, at his side.
"Can you make it?" David asked.
"Surest thing you know!" Van Arden smiled. "I really am all right again,but you must be all in, Ellison. Go along. I'll carry on."
Mr. Hammond took David's arm. "Black coffee is what you need," he said,and led him into the salon.
David rubbed his hands. The fingers were stiffly crooked. He couldhardly flex them, they had gripped the wheel so long. Dulcie, calm andcollected, appeared from the galley, and sat down opposite him. She tookthe cup of coffee from the pallid chef, and served it.
"An egg, and some marmalade and toast, I think, Cookie," she said,smiling up into the plump, worried face. "Now, hero, don't talk. Justrelax, and get something to eat. Then you are to go to sleep for a weekor so. Dad says so."
"Why, I'm all right, Dulcie," declared David. "A little stiff, but thatwill disappear as soon as I move around."
"Anyway, you are to go to bed. Gee, wasn't that storm a whiz-bang? I wasnever so thrilled in my life."
"Where were you?" asked David.
"Right close to Doctor Trigg," replied Dulcie. "He was calm as calm!"
"You are a nervy kid," said David, admiringly. "I'm proud of you."
"Well, we are all proud of you,"
she replied. "Dad says even CaptainFraine could not have done better. To tell you the truth, David, dadfeels pretty glum about the way he butted in and ordered you to makealtitude. He says that he had put you in charge, and that it was up tohim to go by your judgment. And he says that it was lucky for us youdropped to a lower altitude when you did. It probably saved the ship.
"And he says, as long as you did bring us through, he doesn't regretmeeting the storm one bit. It only proved the stability and strength ofthe dirigible. My! By the time those reporters get through writing itup, dirigibles are going to be the whole thing."
"Well, I'm glad the commander isn't sore at me for using my ownjudgment," said David, a relieved look on his face. "I just had to doit, Dulcie."
"He isn't; and of course you had to, and he's going to tell you so,"said Dulcie. "Oh, there comes the sun! Wonderful, isn't it?"
David turned to the window. Above, the leaden clouds were breaking upand turning to fleece--innocent, pretty masses that looked as thoughthey had been assembled for purely decorative purposes. The first raysof the sun turned them faintly pink, and changed the leaden sea tosilver.
Just below them, a big liner, looking like a toy, nosed westward, and asVan Arden gently dropped the ship to a still lower level, the steamersent three puffs of smoke from her funnels in greeting. No other craftwas in sight. As the sun rose, the sparkle and brilliance increased.Already a dull smudge on the horizon revealed itself plainly as theeastern continent. They sped along at an altitude of one thousand feet.
Someone opened a window, and the sweet clean air rushed through thesalon. Dulcie buttoned her sweater, and sniffed the air appreciativelyas she gazed.
"Doesn't it look happy?" she said.
David, firmly but kindly escorted to his room by Mr. Hammond, slept fortwo blissful hours. Then he was awakened by his newly-acquired sense ofresponsibility, a sense ingrained in the minds of masters of all crafts,either of sea or air. He leaped up, perfectly refreshed, and ready foranything.
Mr. Hammond was sitting by the window.
"I wanted to see you as soon as you waked up, Ellison, so I came backhere to get a little rest and quiet, myself. You can't hear yourselfthink out there in the salon. All the passengers are telling theirvarious experiences during the storm!
"I have arranged to leave Captain Fraine and Lieutenant Florsheim atFriedrichshafen for hospital treatment. They are pretty sick men, Dr.Forsythe says. I had planned to take on someone there to fill CaptainFraine's place but, David, I am convinced that you can do it. After yourperformance last night, I am positive that you are capable of handlingany situation." He rose, his kindly face beaming. "I congratulate you,Captain Ellison. It is a big job, but you will swing it!" He shookhands, and was gone.
David stood staring into limitless space.
"Dad!" he whispered; "are you glad?"
The radio was again in working order, and the operators had sentmessages back to Ayre, and long radiograms were sent to the newssyndicates of New York, Berlin, Petrograd, and Tokio by the reporters,each eager to turn in the best story of the storm.
David did not see London. They had passed the ancient city at about sixo'clock, while he slept.
"I'm sorry I missed seeing London," David remarked to Dulcie, whowandered into the control room about nine.
"I was asleep, too," said she. "I wanted awfully to see it. I've beenreading a book about the Zeppelin during the war. The English used tomake London pitch black every night on account of German air raids. Theywere able to make the city practically invisible, but they could nothide the river Thames. That always gave them away, because the bombershad plans of every important place in the city--churches, publicbuildings, stations, tanks, magazines, and freight depots--and theycould locate them by the river. Then down would come a few tons ofbombs."
"Pretty ghastly," said David. He thought of the price he had paid forthe war, a price paid by millions, and set his mouth hard. Dulciestudied his face.
"David, did you lose anyone?" she asked. Her voice was so sympathetic,so tender, that he opened his heart. He could almost feel himself flyingwith his young and gallant father, as he told her about him, his work,and his death. It was not a long story as David told it. When hefinished Dulcie's eyes were misty.
"Oh, David!" she sighed, and impulsively patted his arm. "Your poor,poor mother! But how proud you must be!"
She hadn't pitied him. She had understood.
"I am proud; too proud to broadcast that I'm his son until I can dosomething worth while, myself."
"As if you hadn't done so, already, you nice modest David! But I won'ttell. Not even daddy!"
"Heavens, _no_!" cried David, giving the wheel a twist. "Oh Lord!Dulcie--"
"Oh, shush, silly, as if I would tell! No one is to know. Just you andme--and Red Ryan. Why Ryan, Davie?"
"He guessed it, the darned fox. Nothing I said. He just picked it out ofthe air. His Irish shrewdness, I suppose. Anyway, he asked mepoint-blank."
"You like him, don't you, David?"
"I'll say I do!" said David warmly. "He may be rough on the outside, buthe's nobody's fool, and smart as a whip, and as loyal as they make 'em.By the way, where is Cram all this time?"
Dulcie chuckled. "Poor Wally! He's in his stateroom, a very sick man."
"Honestly?" demanded David.
"No, just all in." She leaned close and whispered, "Scared to death, Dr.Forsythe told daddy. I heard him, and daddy shooed me away. So don'tbreathe it. And see what he says when he comes out."
"You never turned a hair, did you?" admiringly.
Dulcie shrugged. "Why should I? I have no mother, and daddy was here, sowhat was the difference?"
"What about your other friends?" asked David, with a wide blank gaze.
"What other friends?" she inquired innocently.
"Me," said David, ungrammatically but concisely.
Dulcie blushed; then she chuckled, and pinched David's finger. "Well,Funnyface, you were here too, weren't you?"
"That's more like it," said David, and they both laughed. But somehow anew and closer friendship commenced then.
Mr. Hammond, appearing in the doorway, assumed a scowl.
"Go away, Dulcie," he said, "and let the captain sail the ship. I'd putyou in chains where stowaways belong, if only I could find any."
They had passed France; they were over Germany. Radiograms were flyingbetween the ship and Friedrichshafen. All was in readiness there for thewelcome of the Moonbeam, and at eleven thirty-five that morningFriedrichshafen lay below them.
Slowly the ship settled over the field. The ground crew of five hundredmen seized the ropes and, spreading fanwise, brought the ship down. Mr.Hammond had expected to be moored to the mast, but he saw thatpreparations had been made to house the ship in the hangar.
As the ground crew, resplendent in their natty blues, drew the Moonbeamdown to earth, the watchers saw a large group of magnificently uniformedofficers waiting to receive them. Great crowds, held back in orderlymasses by soldiers, roared the deep German salute, "_Hoch, Hoch_," andmingling with it they could hear a goodly volume of American hurrahs,while all over the vast field waved a scattering of small Americanflags.
Mr. Hammond was enthusiastically received by the burgomaster and a groupof the city fathers, as well as by representative officers from theGerman army and navy, air service, and government. He found himselfshaking hands with his old friend, the American ambassador to Germany.Smiles wreathed every face.
The joyous uproar continued as all the passengers came down the stepsfrom the gondola, but later a sympathetic silence fell as the waitingambulance backed up and its white-clad attendants disappeared into theship. Expert hands bore out two stretchers with their swathed forms.Florsheim, sensing the sympathy, got his arm from under the blanket andwaved it with a pale grin, while a cheer burst out again, this time notfor the ship but for the two injured men being given over to the care ofthe skilful surgeons for whom Germany is justly noted. When theambulance had gone, the crowd
surged toward the ship.
The best of German mechanics waited to assist the crew of the Moonbeamin grooming her. David, standing at Mr. Hammond's side, felt the goodfellowship and sportsmanship which permeated the welcome. The Moonbeamwas trying to surpass the record of their own Graf Zeppelin, but therewas no resentment.
One ferocious-looking and red-faced general in the Air Corps stared hardat David as he walked away, then exploded, "And where iss your captain?"
"There is our captain and pilot, general," said Mr. Hammond, bowing.
"Gott in Himmel, he iss a poy, chust a poy! Do you Americans setchildren, then, to sail your ships?"
"Not quite, general," answered Mr. Hammond, smiling, "but CaptainEllison is one in a million; a genius in his chosen field. We lost theservices of our captain and first pilot on the way over. The captainwent--well, he became very ill from the effects of an old wound, and thepilot sustained an injury. We are leaving them both here in thehospital.
"A terrific storm was approaching at the time, and I was obliged to putyoung Ellison in charge. He handled the ship like a veteran. I amconvinced that his cleverness and good judgment saved it, in fact, and Ihave made him captain for the entire flight. I have absolute confidencein him."
"Fine, fine!" exploded the general heartily. "I congratulate you. Goodbilots are born, and nod mate. You are luggy."