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The Great Airship
BLACKIE & SON LIMITED50 Old Bailey, LONDON17 Stanhope Street, GLASGOW
BLACKIE & SON (INDIA) LIMITEDWarwick House, Fort Street, BOMBAY
BLACKIE & SON (CANADA) LIMITED1118 Bay Street, TORONTO
"AIRSHIP IN SIGHT, SIR!"
_Page_ 180
_Frontispiece_]
The Great Airship
A Tale of Adventure
BY
LT.-COL. F. S. BRERETON
Author of "A Boy of the Dominion" "The Hero of Panama" "On the Field ofWaterloo" "John Bargreave's Gold" &c.
_Illustrated by C. M. Padday_
BLACKIE & SON LIMITEDLONDON AND GLASGOW
* * * * *
By Lt.-Col. F. S. Brereton
On the Field of Waterloo.The Great Airship.With the Allies to the Rhine.Under French's Command.Colin the Scout.With Allenby in Palestine.A Hero of Panama.Foes of the Red Cockade.Under the Chinese Dragon.A Sturdy Young Canadian.How Canada was Won.John Bargreave's Gold.With Shield and Assegai.With Rifle and Bayonet.In the King's Service.The Dragon of Pekin.One of the Fighting Scouts.A Knight of St. John.Roger the Bold.The Rough Riders of the Pampas.Indian and Scout.The Great Aeroplane.Tom Stapleton.A Boy of the Dominion.
_Printed in Great Britain by Blackie & Son, Limited, Glasgow_
Contents
CHAP. Page
I. THE FAME OF THE ZEPPELIN 9
II. ANDREW PROVOST'S RESOLUTION 25
III. DICKY HAMSHAW, MIDSHIPMAN 42
IV. THE GREAT AIRSHIP 58
V. A TOUR OF INSPECTION 77
VI. CARL REITBERG, SPORTSMAN 94
VII. EN ROUTE FOR ADRIANOPLE 111
VIII. THE BESIEGED CITY 126
IX. DICK HAMSHAW SAVES THE SITUATION 144
X. A THRILLING RESCUE 166
XI. SOME FACTS AND FIGURES 187
XII. CARL ABOARD THE BIPLANE 203
XIII. TO THE NORTH-WEST FRONTIER 222
XIV. A BRUSH WITH PATHANS 243
XV. THE GREAT ATTEMPT 260
XVI. RECORD HIGH FLYING 277
XVII. A DESPERATE SITUATION 297
XVIII. OFF TO NEW GUINEA 313
XIX. SAVED FROM THE NATIVES 331
XX. ADOLF FRUHMANN'S VENTURE 349
Illustrations
Facing Page"AIRSHIP IN SIGHT, SIR!" Frontispiece
ARRIVED WITH A BUMP FACING COMMANDER JACKSON 80
THE COLLAPSE OF CARL REITBERG 272
THE QUARTET SET OUT FOR THE AIRSHIP 320
THE GREAT AIRSHIP
CHAPTER I
The Fame of the Zeppelin
There are exceptions, we suppose, to almost every rule, and thisparticular Friday towards the end of June was such an exception. It wasfine. Not a cloud flecked the sun-lit sky. A glorious blue expanse hungover a sea almost as blue, but criss-crossed in all directions by thecurling white tops of tiny wavelets, all that remained to remind one ofthe atrocious weather which had prevailed. For the North Sea, Europe,Great Britain, everywhere in fact, had been treated to a succession ofviolent gales, to a continuous deluge of rain, to bitter hail, andsqualls of snow in some parts. And here and now, off the mouth of theriver Elbe the sun shone, the sky was a delight, a balmy breeze fannedthe cheeks of the passengers crowding the decks of the Hamburg-Amerikaliner.
"What a change! I began to wonder whether there was such a season assummer. Have a cigar?"
Mr. Andrew Provost drew from an inner pocket of his jacket asilver-mounted case, pulled the lid off and offered one of the contentsto his nephew.
"Not that one, Joe," he said, as the young man beside him placed hislong fingers on one of the weeds. "It's Dutch. Not that they're not goodsmokes; I like 'em sometimes. But give me a Havana, and offer one toyour friends. There! That one! You'll like it."
"Thanks! I know 'em, Uncle. You always give me your best."
There was a smile on the handsome face of the young man as he obeyed thedirections of his Uncle Andrew. It was obvious indeed from their smiles,the manner in which they paced the deck arm in arm, and from theintimacy of their conversation, that the two were on the best of terms.And why not? They were related, as we have stated. Then they had forlong been separated. Mr. Andrew Provost had not always been thecomfortable-looking individual he now appeared. For prosperous andcomfortable he looked without a doubt. Florid and sunburned, with whitehair and moustache which made his complexion seem to be even more ruddy,he was tall, and slight, and gracefully if not robustly built. There wassomething of a military air about him, and we whisper the truth when wesay that he was often enough taken for an old soldier, much to his ownsecret gratification. Dark grey eyes looked out genially from a smilingface upon the world and his fellows. His forehead was hardly seamed.Care, in fact, seemed to have failed in its effort to reach him, or,more likely perhaps, his genial, plucky nature had caused it to falleasily from his shoulders. For the rest he was exceedingly well groomed,and looked what he was, a prosperous, healthy gentleman.
"But it wasn't always like that, Joe," he told his companion, as theypaced the deck, basking in the sun. "Your Uncle Andrew wasn't always thestylish dog he looks now. Not by a long way. I've been on my beam ends."
"Ah! Exactly."
"Know what that means?"
"To a certain extent. When you came home last Christmas I was down inthe dumps. Absolutely on my beam ends."
Andrew Provost turned to look with some astonishment at his nephew. Heinspected him critically from the top of his glossy Homburg hat to thewell-polished brown shoes which he wore. And the face finally drew allhis attention.
"Impossible!" he declared politely. "Joe on his beam ends! Joe in thedumps--never!"
"True as possible, sir--I was desperate," repeated Joe, his face gravefor that moment.
"Well, well, perhaps so. I'm forgetting. I was young like you when I wasdown. Young fellows make light of such matters. It's as well, perhaps,or the world wouldn't go along half so easily. But I'd never havethought it, Joe. You never said a word to me; you look so jolly."
No one would have denied the fact. Joe Gresson looked what he was, ahandsome, jovial fellow of twenty-seven. Fair and tall, and broader thanhis uncle, he had deep-set eyes which gave to his smiling face an air ofcleverness. And the young fellow was undoubtedly clever. An engineer byprofession, he had graduated at Cambridge, had passed through the shops,the drawing office, and other departments of one of the biggestengineering concerns in England, and had finally struck out a line forhimself. He had been experimenting for the past four years.
"What's the good of being miserable because things don't go right,Uncle?" he said with a smile. "I've told you how I took up engineering.Well, I thought I had a good idea. I left the sh
ops at Barrow and workedon my own. Thanks to the few thousands I possessed I was able to carryout some important experiments."
"Ah, my boy! Well, you succeeded?"
"Yes and no; I went so far with the work that I was sure that successwas possible. Then there was an accident. The whole affair was wrecked,and I woke up to find myself without funds and in a terrible conditionof despair."
"On your beam ends, in fact--well, like me," said Mr. Andrew. "I'll tellyou about myself; then you'll give your yarn. I'll have to hear whatthis work was. But my tale don't take long. Let's step up and down againand I'll give it to you. Let's see--yes, I was a fiery, unmanageableyoung idiot."
"Never!" interjected Joe.
"Like many other young fellows," proceeded Andrew, as if he had not beeninterrupted. "I bluntly refused the post which my father offered me, andcut away from home. I went to Canada, worked my way out aboard thesteamer, a cockleshell in those days, and half starved for the next fewmonths, for it was in the winter and there was no work to be had. But Ilearned something. In the six months which followed my landing I actedas a cook's boy, a porter, a fireman, and a clerk in a grocery store.That's where I had my eyes opened. The country was opening up. I hadsaved a few dollars. I set up a store of my own in one of the nearestsettlements, a mere hut knocked together with the help of a hammer andsome nails. But it paid. I saved all along. I built a real brick house,and the sales went up like wildfire. Then I chose a manager and openedup a second store away in the nearest settlement. It went on after thatalmost by itself. I got to own a hundred stores. I bought property rightand left. Then I sold out. Now I'm merely an idler, come home to take along look round. On my beam ends one day, you see; up and prosperous inthe years that followed. Now, my boy, let's hear your yarn. Hallo,what's the excitement? People are crushing over to the far side of theship."
The two had been so engaged in conversation that they had not noticedthe exodus of the other passengers, and now awoke to find themselves theonly tenants of that side of the deck. Arm in arm still they hurriedround the long deck cabin to join their fellow passengers. They foundthem massed together on the starboard side, crushing towards the rails,and for the most part with their eyes cast aloft.
"Wonderful! Marvellous! Extraordinary!" were some of the remarks theyoverheard, emanating from the English people present. From the manyforeigners there came guttural cries of delight and shouts almost oftriumph.
"What is it? What's the fuss?" asked Mr. Andrew eagerly, craning hishead and looking aloft. "I can see nothing to cause such excitement."
"Nothing, mein Herr! Is that nothing--no?" asked a stumpy littlepassenger against whom Andrew was leaning, twisting his portly frameround with an effort. He shot a short, plump arm above his head, andheld a stumpy finger aloft. "Nothing?" he asked indignantly. "You callthat nothing at all, mein Herr? It is marvellous! It is magnificent!"
"But--but, what is? I--I--er--beg your pardon," said Andrew politely,"but really I can't----"
"Look, Uncle," cried Joe sharply, pointing upwards himself. "It's alittle hard to see perhaps. That's what they aim at, of course. Butthere's an airship there--a Zeppelin."
"Ah!" gasped Andrew, while the stumpy little foreigner, who had nowcontrived to twist himself entirely round, stared angrily at him. Then abroad, beaming smile of pride seamed his face, a fat, good-natured faceto be sure, while the light of recognition danced in his eyes.
"Ah! Mr. Andrew Provost," he exclaimed in thick but urbane tones. "Wehave met again. This is fortunate. But you see now; you see the Germantriumph. You see the Zeppelin with which they have conquered the air.Ah, it is magnificent!"
Andrew had scarcely time to shake his hand and recognize this plumplittle person. He was vastly impressed at the sight some four thousandfeet above him, and away to the left. He could have shouted with delighthimself. The object, in fact, claimed his whole attention.
"A Zeppelin!" he cried. "A real Zeppelin! One of Germany's airdreadnoughts--magnificent!"
It was magnificent. Seldom yet have Englishmen had the opportunity ofseeing one of those leviathans of the air. At a period when balloonshave become common objects in the sky, when the whole world almost hasbecome accustomed to aeroplanes scooping through the air, the people ofmost countries are still strangers to the sight of a mighty airshipswimming in space. And there was one, a long, sinuous hull of neutralcolour, so that even in broad daylight it was not too easily visible,floating horizontally in the sky, like some gigantic cigar, while foreand aft, immediately beneath the hull, were two boat-shaped objects, alittle darker than the mass above supporting them. There was the dullhum of machinery too.
"Moving along slowly," gasped Andrew, still wonderstruck at such asight. "What's she doing?"
"Finishing a continuous run of twenty-four hours and more," declared thelittle stranger, whom we will now introduce as Mr. Carl Reitberg. "Justshowing us how fresh she is, and how easy the task has been," he criedin tones of the utmost pride. "See! She has more to show us. She hastaken in fuel from the steamer yonder, and could sail again for anothertwenty-four hours. But she wishes to experiment with her bombs. Look,mein Herr! There is a float down below her. She will pulverize it. Shewill smash it. She will drop a bomb plumb into it, and, piff! it isgone. That, mein Herr, is the work of the latest Zeppelin."
Perhaps a thousand passengers crowded the rails and watched the monsterof the air, and it was as Mr. Reitberg had so proudly announced. TheZeppelin was manoeuvring away from the Hamburg-Amerika liner. Ahead ofher, some five miles to the east, was a dot upon the ocean. Andrew swunghis glasses to his eyes and fixed them upon that object.
"A float of some sort--yes," he said. "She is motoring towards it. Thenshe will stop above it."
"No--not at all," declared Mr. Reitberg. "She will continue at herfastest pace. Yet she will strike it. Watch. See--ah! Did I not say so?It is marvellous! There!"
Was it imagination? Andrew fancied he saw a small, dark object fall fromone of the boat-shaped cars beneath the long Zeppelin. In a twinkling heswung his glasses down upon the float half-immersed in the sea below.Then a loud detonation reached his ears, while the float disappearedmiraculously, the sea being churned up and splashed all about it. Norwas that all. There came from the ship above a succession of sharpreports, while bullets of large size struck the sea immediately overthe spot where the float had been. Then another object dropped from theairship. It burst into flames within two hundred feet of leaving thehand which had projected it, and almost at once sent out a vast,spreading mass of dense smoke, that spread and spread and spread tillthe sky was obscured, till the airship was utterly hidden.
Mr. Carl Reitberg chuckled aloud, and danced with delight.
"Magnificent! Cunning! The latest thing!" he declared. "You see thereason, Mr. Provost? No; then I will tell you. The ship, the airdreadnought, you understand, discovers an enemy's ship, or shall we saythe enemy's war harbour, or arsenal, or magazine, or what you will? Shesails above it. She drops a bomb. Then, piff! the thing is done. Theship is destroyed; the harbour is wrecked; the magazine explodes. Menrush to and fro in panic--those who are left. For some are poisoned.Yes, some die not from the effects of the explosion, but because theairship has dropped also chemical bombs which burst and spread poisonousfumes everywhere. But men are left, we will allow. There are gunnersthere. They rush to the aerial guns. They load them; they attempt totake aim. But--where is the ship? Gone? No--but where? The sky is allsmoke. There is no sign of her. She is invisible. _Nicht wahr?_ It istoo late; all the damage is done. The Zeppelin escapes to wreck moreships, more harbours, more magazines."
He puffed out his stout little chest, gazed aloft at the dense andspreading cloud of smoke, and waved his hands excitedly.
"It is magnificent!" he repeated for perhaps the tenth time. "It is atriumph! None can approach it. Many have watched and scorned the idea.Count Zeppelin has persevered. Germany has backed his efforts, and now,_voila_!--there is the result. Triumph! The conquest of the air. Masteryof the upper e
lement; with none to gainsay us."
"But--but there are limits to the power of these ships," suggestedAndrew, his words almost faltering. "There are limits to their range oftravel."
Mr. Carl Reitberg put one fat finger artfully to the side of his nose.It was perhaps a little peculiarity he had picked up in England, for wehasten to explain that he was cosmopolitan. Carl Reitberg had spent manyof his fifty-three years in South Africa. There he had enjoyed theprotection of the Union Jack. He had a house in London now, and one alsoat Brighton. It may be said that he had made his fortune, thanks to hisown astuteness and the opportunities given him by our British colonies.But he was not English. He was not entirely German. He belonged to theworld. One day he was resident in Berlin, a second found him in Londonor in Brighton, while as likely as not the following weeks saw himparading the Champs Elysees in Paris, the Boulevards of Buenos Ayres,the streets of Mexico, or Broadway, New York. In fact, and in short, hewas cosmopolitan.
"Limits, mein Herr!" he cried, still in those tones of pride, stilldancing on his toes. "None! That ship can sail continuously over athousand miles. Her wireless telegraph will reach within a hundred milesof that distance. She can manoeuvre easily over a ship at sea and takein further supplies. She is, in short, a cruiser. Do you wish to sail inluxury to St. Petersburg? Hire, then, a Zeppelin. Do you desire toescape _mal de mer_? Call for one of these huge airships and sail forLondon. Do you fancy the conquest of some island kingdom? Mr. Provost,you are rich; buy one of the air dreadnoughts and blow your enemies skyhigh."
Andrew took his eyes from the spreading cloud of smoke overhead andglanced at the excited orbs of the little fellow. Then he looked at hisnephew. And we tell but the truth when we say that his own eyes weretroubled.
"It is magnificent, but it is terrible," he said slowly. "Terrible forthose who have no aerial dreadnoughts. Yes, terrible. Their danger isgreater than I could ever have imagined. And you say that theseZeppelins stand alone. There are no others?"
"None. But wait. Yes, there are others, also German. There are theParseval, the semi-rigid ships of the air," said Mr. Reitberg with atruculent smile. "There are also the Gross ships; but the Zeppelins areinfinitely superior. Elsewhere there are none. France, what are herships? Russia, poof! we will not waste breath in discussing them.England--mein Herr, she has the Alpha, the Beta, and the Gamma, meretoy airships. They do not count."
There was a wide smile on his face now. Andrew winced at his words;there were even beads of perspiration on his forehead, while lines hadknit themselves across his brow.
"You say that England has no such ships. Then she can build them, mustbuild them," he said.
"Must--yes! But can she? Impossible!" Mr. Carl Reitberg looked his pity."Impossible!" he repeated, while Andrew wiped his perspiring brow.
"I think not--hardly impossible, mein Herr," came in quiet tones fromJoe, a silent witness of all that had been passing.
"Eh! Not impossible? You think that a bigger Gamma would suffice? Youthink that England could build such a ship as this Zeppelin withoutexperiment, without numerous failures--all, we will say, within a year?"
"I am sure."
"Sure! You joke. The thing cannot be done; I know England. Men areclever there, but they have not studied these airships: they areignorant."
"Not quite--I disagree. In six months, in three, perhaps, such a ship assails above us could be erected; but better, with more power, a widerrange, and a greater capacity for destruction."
Mr. Carl Reitberg gasped; he pulled an elegant silk handkerchief fromhis pocket and mopped his forehead. He was beginning to get annoyedwith the calm, not to say idiotic, assurance of this young man. Helooked Joe Gresson superciliously up and down, and then smiled urbanely.
"You are young," he said. "When you arrive at my age you will see yourerror. I, who know, say that such a thing is impossible."
"And I, Herr Reitberg, while thanking you, say that it can be done. Ithas been done, on a smaller scale. To-morrow, or let us say within threemonths, England could possess an aerial dreadnought superior to anyZeppelin. I am positive."
The smile left Mr. Reitberg's face. He looked at Joe as if he thoughthim mad. As for Andrew, at first he had watched his nephew with everysign of surprise, if not of disapproval. But now he smacked him on theback encouragingly.
"Bravo, Joe!" he cried. "Stick to your guns. You say England could buildsuch a ship. Well, she's tried?"
"Yes; the Admiralty tried through their contractors, and failed."
"Ah, failed, yes!" lisped Mr. Reitberg. "So did Zeppelin. But he carriedon his experiments; he succeeded. Your people did no more."
"Others took on the work."
Joe returned the looks of his two companions firmly. "And succeeded," headded.
"Who? You?" demanded Andrew eagerly.
"Yes; I did."
"Then I'd back you to do as you say. You declare that you could erectsuch a ship as we have just lost sight of, but better, with greaterpowers of movement, with greater range?"
"Certainly."
"Then why has mein Herr not done so?" asked Mr. Reitberg, with a lift ofhis eyebrows and outspread hands. He was the essence, in fact, of politeincredulity.
"I did on a small scale; then funds failed."
"Ah, yes! they always do, fortunately, mein Herr. Then your experimentsare ended. This ship is but a creation of your brain. It must remain so;for funds are done with."
There was sarcasm in the voice. Andrew Provost resented the tone. He hadnever liked Mr. Reitberg overmuch, though they had met in more than onecountry and had dined together frequently. Besides, it roused his gorgeto feel that here was an example of British ineptitude. He knew hisnephew well enough by now, knew him to be a young man worth trusting. Ifhe said he could do this thing, then he could.
"By Jingo, I'll give him the opportunity!" he cried. "Joe, how much'd itcost?"
"One hundred thousand pounds, perhaps. Not more; very likely a greatdeal less."
"And within three months? Well, let us say, within six months?" askedMr. Reitberg incredulously. "Impossible! The money would be wasted. Aship be built in that time, by men inexperienced in such work, a ship,moreover, of almost unlimited range! You are dreaming, sir!"
Joe Gresson might have been excused if he had lost his temper. Instead,he smiled at the little foreigner. "I am all seriousness," he said. "IfI had the means I would erect this ship, and prove her capacity to you.She would sail where you wished; no part of the earth would be too farfor her."
"And I back him up in what he says. What this young fellow cares todeclare as in his power I feel is not impossible. Now, Mr. Reitberg,"cried Andrew with no little warmth, "I'll stand by him."
Mr. Reitberg did nothing in a hurry. It was his very slowness which hadsometimes proved his success. But this discussion irritated him. Heliked to feel that the Zeppelin was beyond all attempts at imitation. Heconsidered that Joe was mad, or suffering from too great a shock ofconfidence. In any case, it seemed to him that what he described aspossible was hopelessly out of the question. He tucked his short neckdeep into his collar, screwed his head on one side, and then began tosmile urbanely.
"Well, well," he said at last. "One hundred thousand pounds. What is itto me, or to you, Mr. Provost? Build this airship. Prove her to bebetter than a Zeppelin. Sail her round the world and then return toEngland. If you do all this, say within nine months of this date, then Ireturn the cost of the venture. Is that a bargain?"
"Done!" shouted Andrew. "I'll back the boy. I'll find the money for him.If we succeed within nine months, then the loss is yours. The shipremains ours, while you pay for it. Let us step into the cabin. We'lldraft out a form of agreement. When that's signed we'll set to inearnest."
It took but a half-hour to complete this necessary preliminary, so thatwhen they returned on deck again the huge cloud of smoke haddisappeared, while the Zeppelin was again in sight, a mere speck in thedistance.
"Like that, but better, faster, stronger, with greater ra
nge," saidAndrew, pointing up at her.
"Quite so--the impossible!" smiled Mr. Reitberg. "Do not blame me if youfail, Mr. Provost. I hate taking other people's money, or running anyoneinto large expense. Good luck to you!"
They shook hands on leaving the steamer at Southampton and parted. Joeand his uncle took train for London, and that same evening found themseated before the window of their private room at the hotel quietlydiscussing the exciting future before them.