A Tour of Inspection
"Hallo there! Turn out! It's a grand morning and there are things worth
seeing."
It was the cheery Alec who aroused Dick Hamshaw on the day after his
rescue outside the Needles and his introduction to the airship. Dick
wakened with a start, rolled over comfortably, and blinked at his new
friend.
"Eh! My watch. Not it," he grumbled sleepily. "I was off late last night
and have had the dickens of a nightmare since. Fancied I was aloft in a
big airship. Leave a fellow alone to sleep, do."
Alec shook him, laughing loudly. "So you call our airship a nightmare!"
he cried. "That's a nice thing to do when the Admiralty have offered you
and your men as part of our crew and Mr. Provost has accepted you. I'll
tell the Commander. You'd better be getting back to your ship, for there
are dozens of fellows who'd be only too glad to come aboard here."
That brought the great Dicky to his senses. He sat up on an elbow, still
blinking at Alec with half-open eyes. Then those sharp orbs of his
opened widely, the light of full understanding returned to them, and in
an instant he was out of bed.
"My word, but I've been dreaming the whole affair over again, and
couldn't think it could be true. And it's real? Eh? Actually a fact that
I'm on board an airship high in the air. How high did you say?"
Alec made no answer. He stepped across the carpeted floor of this roomy
cabin, with its milk-white walls and furniture, and its pictures secured
to those same walls by tiny cleats of transparent material, and turning
back some hangings exposed a window three times the size of an ordinary
porthole, and provided with a pane of what one would have imagined was
glass. But it bent with the force of the wind. Half open, the frame
projected into the room at an angle to Dick, and glancing at it he
caught a reflection of the sun, now bright, and a second later blurred
as the pane bent and the surface was altered. The simple fact brought
him bounding after Alec. He ran his fingers over both sides of the pane,
bent the material backward and forward, and then tapped it with his
knuckles. That done he suddenly gazed upward, only to find himself
disappointed.
"You don't expect to have transparent roofs to your cabins too, do you?"
laughed Alec. "A fellow couldn't undress without half the crew seeing
him. No, the ceilings of the dressing-rooms, cabins, and so forth are
made opaque. But this window gives you a good idea of the stuff of which
the ship's made. Now, take a squint below."
Dick did as he was bidden, and instantly clutched tight to the frame of
the window. For down below, down a terrible distance, was a smooth,
oily surface which he guessed was the ocean. And on it were a number of
minute dots at irregular intervals, while away to the right was a
blurred patch of white, which might be land or anything else. The sight
made him absolutely giddy. A glance away to his right showed him the
under-surface of this enormous ship, transparent, it is true, but of a
bluish-grey colour owing to the shadows cast upon it. It was immense. It
stretched away from him in an easily-curving line till it was lost in
the distance. And beneath it there was nothing, nothing but thin elusive
air, and far, far below that muddy ocean.
"Jingo!" he gasped.
Alec grinned. "Makes a chap feel queer at first," he said. "But, as I've
told you before, it's as safe as houses. Here, tumble into a tub. It'll
buck you up, and when you've been on top with me and had a general look
round you'll feel as right as a trivet. Shave?"
"Eh?" asked Dick.
"Do you shave?"
"Er, no--that is to say, not always."
"Lucky beggar! I have to. A beast of a job, and takes half the morning.
You pop into the tub. We've a bath between us, and I dare say by the
time you've finished I shall have managed to get rid of this growth.
Awful bore I find it."
Dicky couldn't help but grin. He stepped across to Alec, forgetful now
of the strange sight he had witnessed outside, placed himself directly
in front of him, and closely scrutinized his features, maintaining a
gravity there was no fathoming.
"Poor beggar!" he said at last. "Awful hard lines, ain't it? You'll find
it difficult to get down to breakfast."
To be perfectly truthful, there was not so much as a single hair on
Alec's chin or lip, any more than there was on Mr. Midshipman Hamshaw's.
And the gravity of his guest, his candour, and those twinkling eyes
quite made up to Alec for any soreness he may have felt at this somewhat
personal declaration. He flushed a rosy red, and then burst into loud
laughter.
"Oh well, perhaps I imagined it a bit," he said. "If I stick to the
razor things'll come along in time. There, into the tub. I'll be along
in a jiffy."
Ten minutes later, in fact, they were dressed and ready to leave the
cabin, Dick having found his own clothes dried, brushed, and neatly
folded beside his bed.
"I say," he began, "how do you come to be aboard? Tell me."
"Cousin of Joe's: going to be an engineer one of these days. Accepted
his invitation in a jiffy. Come on. Breakfast'll be ready in half an
hour, so we've time to make a round of the ship. Now, up we go to the
top deck of all; it'll give you a good impression of the vessel."
[Illustration: ARRIVED WITH A BUMP FACING COMMANDER JACKSON
_Page 85_]
They stepped into that strange lift again and were whisked on high. A
minute later they were in the open, with a brisk breeze blowing about
them and the genial rays of the sun pouring down upon them. Gazing in
every direction Dick found himself stepping upon a flat deck of
transparent material, immediately beneath which he could easily see the
beams that supported it. Down lower still, beneath a deep space, which
common sense told him must be filled with gas, were more beams, curving
neatly to complete the shape of this ship, and beneath them again,
stretching on either side of a central gallery a number of cabins, some
with transparent roofs, others with opaque material let into the
ceilings. And yet deeper, forming the lowest portion of the ship, was
one long compartment, through the roof of which he could see engines,
with a couple of men attending to them.
"Let's get along aft, then we'll make forward," said Alec, showing the
various parts of the ship with pride. "I'll tell you something about
her. She's longer than the latest Zeppelin, and equally deep from top to
bottom. You can see that her shape is flattened from above downward,
which makes her very much wider than a Zeppelin. Care to come out to one
of the side keels?"
Dick hesitated. Then catching sight of a rail passing from this main
deck down the easily-sloping side of the vessel he nodded. After all, he
wasn't going to be beaten by Alec.
"Right," he said. "Get ahead."
They clambered over the main rail to find themselves on a narrow way
provided with very shallow steps. This brought them after a minute right
out to the farthest lateral edge of the ship, to that lateral keel, in
fact, which Joe Gresson had made such a point of. And there the rail
ended abruptly. Alec leaned over it and invited Dick to join him.
"Ripping, eh?" he asked. "Getting your balance at last, I expect. Don't
seem so dreadful now, does it?"
It did not by a great deal. The midshipman was bound to confess that he
was becoming accustomed to his surroundings. More than that, the huge
bulk of this floating monster, the fact that she never even trembled,
while the weight of himself and his comrade now brought right out to the
farthest edge caused no sign of heeling, impressed him vastly with the
stability of the vessel. He was beginning to catch some of Alec's
enthusiasm. He was longing to peep into every corner, to get to
understand every detail. And we must remember that Mr. Midshipman
Hamshaw was not unacquainted with things mechanical. What naval officer
can be in these days, indeed, when the old wooden walls have long since
departed, and when your modern ship is composed of steel, while almost
every movement aboard her, however trivial, is, where possible, carried
out by some cleverly-contrived mechanical means? No, Dick had a fondness
for mechanics. And here, aboard the airship, he guessed that his
fondness was to be gratified to the utmost.
"Let's get back to the deck again," he said at last, when they had gazed
below at the muddy ocean. "I'm dying to see more. Now, what are these
rails for? It beats me your having a deck on top of the ship. But I
suppose it's necessary. Why rails on the deck? That's what I can't
fathom."
But he saw the reason a little later, for Alec took him to a sunken deck
house, which, seeing that its roof was dead level with the deck, might
be expected to offer no resistance whatever to the air. Opening a trap,
he ushered his new friend in, though the contents were plainly to be
seen without that manoeuvre. And there, anchored to the floor, was a
pair of spreading planes, as transparent as glass, strong and flexible,
attached at their centre to a boat constructed of the same material.
"An aeroplane!" he gasped. "Here, on an airship? Why?"
"For scouting. To act as a messenger. To take passengers to and fro when
it's necessary."
Alec spoke loftily, watching Dick's amazement with secret delight.
"That's why there are rails on the deck outside," he explained. "She
starts from 'em."
"But--but how does she return?" asked Dick, somewhat bewildered, for
whoever heard of an aeroplane flying towards an airship and settling
upon it? But Alec dismissed the question with a shrug of his shoulders,
and a wave of his hands.
"Ain't there enough deck to please you?" he asked. "Do you want to
provide a drill ground? You just operate a motor; this sunken hangar
rises with the aeroplane, and there you are, ain't you?"
Dick felt the truth of the words. The huge monster on which he had found
refuge presented a deck wide enough and long enough to provide safe
landing for any aviator. As for this plane upon which he looked, it was
obviously meant to float in the water, in fact, it was a waterplane,
though the long, centrally-placed boat, to which the planes were
immediately attached, was provided with wheels also, to enable it to
roll upon the rails, and also to land either on this deck or on terra
firma. It was, without shadow of doubt, the last word in the science and
manufacture of a heavier-than-air machine.
"Ripping!" exclaimed Dick. "You've been in her?" he asked admiringly,
with just a suspicion of jealousy in his voice.
"Once: I'm going again. You'll come too."
"From here? At this height?"
The possibilities of a swoop away from the broad deck of the airship,
till a little while ago seeming to be so insecure, and now, compared
with the machine he was inspecting, so broad and strong and trustworthy,
was almost appalling. Dick wondered whether he could really screw his
courage up to board this aeroplane, to sit in that flimsy boat and wait
for the machine to move along the rails, to gather speed, and then to
hurl herself over the side of the vessel. It made that old, creepy
sensation return. Dick was one of those fellows gifted with an acute
imagination, and consequently suffered on occasions. Here, then, was an
occasion, and he was bold and open enough to admit the fact that he
hardly viewed the prospect with enthusiasm.
"But you will soon," Alec told him. "It's simply a case of getting used
to the sensation, and then you long to go out. But let's leave the deck.
You can see that we carry guns. They're provided by the Admiralty. Yes,
my boy, by the Admiralty. You see, both the War Office and the Admiralty
have been stirred up by Mr. Provost. They had to move. They had to
inspect this ship when she was completed. And inspection was enough for
the two authorities. They began to stir, to get a move on with a
vengeance, and, as a result, we've men aboard sent by the two services,
guns up here, and on the deck below, a wireless apparatus, and an
officer from either service, Commander Jackson for one, while the
soldier is to come to us almost immediately. Of course, I ain't
forgetting Mr. Midshipman Hamshaw."
He grinned a wicked grin at Dick and went racing away from him. As for
the young sailor, he gave chase on the instant, so that presently the
ship rang with their merry cries. And indeed, they made a race of it,
for Alec made for the gangway built around the lift, racing down the
steep stairs as fast as active legs could carry him. Dick, however,
proved his salt and his training. Finding a smooth, central girder of
that strange and transparent material, he wrapped his legs round it, and
went shooting like a descending rocket to the deck below where he
arrived with a resounding bump, to find himself directly facing
Commander Jackson.
"'Mornin', sir!" he gasped, drawing himself up and touching the peak of
his hat. "Fine weather, sir."
"For monkey tricks, yes," laughed the Commander. "Well, lad, how do you
like the vessel? Seen the aeroplane? Eh? Like a trip aboard her? I'm the
coxswain."
"Rather, sir," gasped Dick. "This is the finest thing I've had to do
since I joined the Navy."
"Indeed! You've been an officer a long while I take it," smiled his
senior. "Quite one of the older ones, Dick, eh? Come; I'll stop
quizzing. Let's get along to the engines; Joe Gresson has gone there.
There's no keeping him away from them. Come; you'll see the height of
simplicity combined with the uttermost efficiency that has yet been
attained."
Dick did indeed inspect a machine which, with its components, gave
extraordinary power to the ship. To put the description with the utmost
plainness, he found when he descended to the engine-room three sets of
engines, of moderate size, and of the internal-combustion variety. There
was nothing remarkable, perhaps, about the engines themselves, except
that they were a modification of the Diesel.
"You see, a Diesel uses extremely high compression," Joe Gresson
explained, leaning one hand affectionately on an engine which happened
not to be working. "That can be managed easily ashore, and in the air
also. But compressors are required in addition to the engine, for the
explosive charge, consisting of the crudest oil, must be injected into
the cylinders by pneumatic power at a critical moment, and that power
must be at higher pressure than the contents of the cylinder. To me the
most important question was the one of fuel. I barred petrol."
"Why?" Dick ventured to ask. "It's used on other airships."
"And other ships suffer from explosions and from fire. Petrol is too
inflammable, particularly upon a ship which is lifted by a huge volume
of gas. So I chose crude paraffin oil, the sort of oil that you can
obtain in any part of Europe, almost in any part of the world. To
discover a carburettor which would vaporize this crude oil was
difficult. But a friend came to my help, and here you see the result.
Our engines run steadily and strongly."
He pointed to the other two, which, as he said, were turning over
noiselessly and with a rhythm that told its tale plainly. Even Dick had
sufficient experience of this class of engine to know that the running
was excellent. But beyond that he was somewhat fogged. For besides some
machinery housed in at the end of each motor, and a certain number of
switches and levers common to any engine-room, there was nothing to
indicate in what manner the power of the engines was conveyed, nor in
what direction. Where was the propeller? How did these motors operate
it? By electricity? Perhaps, for he could see a large dynamo revolving
at the far end of the cabin. But he was by no means certain. He asked
the question instantly, causing Joe to raise his head, open a port at
the far end of the cabin, and invite him to look through it.
"We're a little aft of amidships here," he explained, "and form the
lowest attachment to the vessel. We're dead in the central line, and the
weight of these motors and of other accessories housed in what compares
with the keel of an ordinary ship, keeps her perfectly steady. Now, look
yonder. That is the tail end of the ship. You can see the propeller,
and as it is revolving and you cannot, therefore, distinguish its
outline I had better tell you something about it. To begin, it's both
propeller and rudder. See, I wish to turn the vessel. I press this lever
to the right and at once the propeller swings in the same way, driving
the tail of the ship to the left. See, I reverse the motion. Or,
perhaps, I wish to descend or rise--hold tight, please, gentlemen, while
I give our friend here a little demonstration! But first, let me say
that the propeller itself is forty feet in diameter, presents half a
dozen blades, the pitch of which can be instantly altered, while the
blades are encircled by a tube some twenty feet in depth from back to
front. Thus the air drawn into this revolving tube cannot escape to
either side, and the blades lose no efficiency, while one can readily
understand that when the ship is travelling quickly, particularly
against a head wind, the alteration in the pitch of the blades makes for
greater speed and more effectual use of the power. Now, hold tight,
please. We'll show our friend of what we are capable."
At a touch upon a lever the propeller that Dick was watching, and which
was rotating very slowly, suddenly gathered speed, till it was but a
mere haze in the distance. He felt the whole ship move forward, while a
touch on another lever bent the propeller downward, and to his
consternation the deck he stood on canted badly, the vessel headed
downward and went hurtling towards that muddy ocean which he could see
below him. The sensation was in fact paralysing. It was worse, perhaps,
when it was reversed, and the nose of the ship shot upward, setting the
deck at such an angle that Dick had to cling hard to the railings
fending the motors. But a moment later, at a touch from the inventor,
she came to an even keel, the propeller ceased to rotate, while the
vessel came to a halt.
"Now, see how we rise at will," said Joe, watching Dick's face with
delight, for it pleased the young inventor to notice the open admiration
with which the youthful sailor regarded everything. "Now, I pull this
handle. We fall. I reverse the movement. We shoot upward, but always
keeping the horizontal position."
It was really remarkable, for the mere touch of the inventor sent the
ship up and down, for all the world as if she were suspended in space,
and his fingers controlled the switch of some hoisting machinery.
"How's it done?" asked Dick eagerly. "How does the power get to that
propeller, for instance? Your motors are here. There are no chains, no
shafts, nothing save these cased-in things at the end of each motor,
which might be pumps for all I know."
"And happen to be exactly what you have mentioned. They are pumps, of
the rotary variety, and the material they deal with is that same common,
crude paraffin on which our motors run. See those pipes. They are of the
best, cold-drawn steel. They convey the oil from our pumps to the
various propellers, to the lift and to any part where we have need for
power. No corner is too sharp for them. They run anywhere, and, as you
can imagine, convey the power of these engines with a certainty there is
no gainsaying. Of course, at the far end we have other rotary motors.
The oil pumped at this point, and under high pressure, is unable to
escape from the steel pipes. At will we pass it into our distant motors,
allowing some to escape back in this direction through a bypass. If the
bypass is pulled wide open, the motors beyond do not turn; for the oil
fails to reach them. If it is closed, there is no escape for the oil. It
reaches the motors at its highest pressure, and operates them at full
power, as powerfully, in fact, as if this engine down here driving the
pumps was away up there close to the propeller with the shaft directly
coupled to it. In short, and as an interesting fact, our propellers and
other gear are operated by hydraulic power, applied after the latest
principle."
"Which is a lesson that will keep you for a while," smiled the
Commander. "Ah, there's our host, and I hear the breakfast gong
sounding. Come, Dick, my lad, you could eat, you think? the great height
at which we fly does not rob you of your appetite?"
Not by a long way. The young fellow was beginning to revel in his
strange surroundings, and to quite like this residence at a height. More
than all, he was vastly interested in the intricacies of the vessel. And
we record only the fact when we say that he and Alec spent the whole of
the morning in a close and thorough investigation, an investigation
which disclosed, among other matters, the interesting fact that
centrally-placed propellers, operating in tubes built transversely at
either end of the ship, controlled her sideways movements, making
entrance to a hangar easy, while she could be caused to descend or rise
by others, located fore and aft likewise, with their tubes built in the
vertical direction. As for the huge framework that held the gas, it was
divided into twenty compartments, to each of which pipes of that strange
transparent material led. These latter ended in one large branch which
was attached to a machine at one end of the engine-room. Joe explained
its action with a gusto that showed it to be one of his pet items, one
on which he prided himself not a little.
"What's the good of a ship which has to constantly return to land for
gas supplies?" he said. "We take ours with us. Not compressed and in
steel cylinders. Anyone can do that. But in the form of fuel. We carry a
matter of seven tons, and can get a further supply in any part of the
world. A gas producer of my own designing deals with the stuff, and at
desire we can supply gas to replace leakages. Not that we experience
those. Otherwise it would not be safe to smoke. But each one of our
compartments aboard the ship contains a proportion of air. When we want
to go higher, or lift a bigger weight, we simply set the producer going,
and by means of one of our motors pump gas to the top of the
compartments. Simple, isn't it? But it makes us wonderfully independent.
That's why we've undertaken to make a trip round the world."
"Round the world? When?"
"Now--to-morrow, that is to say."
"And--and I go with you?" gasped Dick.
"Of course; you've been detailed by the Admiralty."
The shout which the midshipman gave might have been heard at the far end
of the vessel. The prospect filled him with delight, so that he was
simply boiling over with enthusiasm and anticipation. Nor did his
excitement evaporate as the day advanced. For the ship manoeuvred over
the ocean, and was put through her paces. Towards evening, however, her
nose was turned to the north-east, and as night fell she hovered over
England. Slowly she descended, obscured in darkness, till her pilot was
able to pick up his bearings. A distant light of curious colour caught
his eye and he sent the ship towards it. Then, when directly overhead
that same brilliant light suddenly shot from the ship and flooded the
buildings beneath. Dick found himself looking down upon a huge shed,
placed in a wide-open place, and--could he believe his eyes?--the shed
was moving, revolving, actually turning. It made him giddy. Or was it
this wonderful ship which was turning?
"It's the revolving hangar, of course," Alec told him, with a laugh.
"You see, if the wind's blowing, we head up to it. The hangar opens away
from the point from which the gale comes. We manoeuvre opposite it,
and enter easily. You watch. No one is wanted to hang on to ropes. Our
pilot can manage the ship in any direction. See, we've dropped opposite
the shed; but we're not quite head on. We're getting near it, however,
for those propellers located in the cross tubes are being set to work.
Ah! that's better. See, we're creeping in. Now our huge lateral keels
run into wide slots built into the sides of the hangar. They engage and
run in farther. Right! We're home. Welcome to our kennel."
And what of the trip promised by Joe Gresson, and of the adventures it
might and certainly should bring in its train?
"Jingo!" cried Dick, as he hastened to the post office to send a
telegram requesting that his full kit might be sent to him. "Jingo, if
we don't have a cruise worth talking about, well--well, my name ain't
Dicky."