THE CRADLE OF THE ZEPPELIN
He watched the retreating back of the young captain under discussion
with the wise eyes of a man who can read men.
“Yess, he looks goot,” he added.
They were driven to a hotel, and escorted to luxurious rooms.
The lobby was full of young officers, strutting and clanking around. Mr.
Hammond and David looked distinguished in their plain, close-fitting
blue with black braid and small gold insignia which had been chosen as
the ship’s uniform. They were both very tall men, well over six feet,
the muscles of the younger man making up for the middle-age weight of
the older. The Germans regarded them with interest and respect.
Certainly they were not to be looked down on, at least! Dulcie, watching
them, thought with fury of her own fairylike proportions. How she pined
to be a Brunhilde, stalking firmly among all these arrogant-looking
young men!
Having changed her frock, Dulcie went to find her father. She found him
in his room struggling with a tie, while at the same time he regarded a
long, official-looking document on the chiffonier.
“Just look at this, Dulcie.” He handed her the paper. “A state luncheon
at one-thirty, for a starter, and from then on not a minute that isn’t
taken up. It’s a little better for you, but I bet every last one of
these officials has a nice husky wife who will look after you.”
“I’ll let ’em look for a while, but sometime I am going to play truant.
I want to see Friedrichshafen my own way. Isn’t it beautiful? And it was
here that Count Zeppelin lived, and worked out his plans. I want to
learn all about him.”
“Yes, you ought to learn all you can about him, Dulcie. Of course,
Santos-Dumont was the first one seriously to struggle with the problem
of the rigid dirigible, but Count Zeppelin went far ahead of him. Come
in!” he added in a roar, as a knock sounded at the door. A bell boy,
apple-cheeked and rosy, presented a large tray piled with envelopes.
Mr. Hammond groaned.
“Look ’em over, will you, Dulcie; we only have fifteen minutes, but you
are all ready.”
Dulcie gave a little laugh. “Why, a lot of them are for me,” she cried,
beginning to tear them open. “You were right; they are from the wives.
And oh, such high-sounding titles!” She shuffled her notes into a pile.
“I’ll read them later.”
The troublesome tie finally in place, Mr. Hammond put on his coat,
smacked down his thick white hair, and they descended to the lounge,
where a delegation awaited them.
The burgomaster met them with a long address of welcome, to which all
the Germans present listened attentively, as though to show that they
approved thoroughly. Dulcie studied their heavy, intelligent faces.
Across the weatherbeaten cheeks of a number of the older men ran jagged
scars. Newer, livid seams puckered the faces of a couple of the younger
officers, brands from Heidelberg duels. Young and old alike stood
straight, feet firmly planted, heads proudly poised on their thick
necks.
“They are glad they are men, and Germans, and want everybody to know
it,” thought Dulcie.
The luncheon was a heavy meal, punctuated by heavy speeches and encored
by heavy voices barking “_Hoch, hoch!_” appreciatively. Mr. Hammond
enjoyed every moment of it. The utterances of those clear, keen, lucid
minds were well worth listening to, especially as he spoke German
fluently. Dulcie, also easily conversant with the language, was greatly
interested; but David was lost. His French was fairly good, although of
the prep-school type, but the guttural polysyllables of the Germans left
him gasping.
After the luncheon came a drive, which was in reality a parade designed
to show the visitors to the inhabitants of the city. Hundreds of people
had come from Berlin and elsewhere to see the great American dirigible,
her officers, her crew and her passengers. Every hotel and boarding
house was filled to capacity. To the German mind their advent was an
educational opportunity which must be followed up.
The procession wound up at the landing field where the visitors were
shown all the latest improvements on the German dirigibles. New
materials for frame construction, covering, and so forth, all under
severe tests of every possible sort.
This airport was the home of the first Zeppelin. It was here that Count
Zeppelin spent his time and energy; a wonderful old man, who defied age
and went gallantly on, working, planning and constructing, until at last
he had the great happiness of tasting success.
They were taken to Count Zeppelin’s office, left as he had used it. The
walls were covered with pictures of dirigibles and photographs of
engines. Otherwise the room was bare and severe, the room of a man whose
whole heart was so entirely in his great work that he found no space for
non-essentials. His name is justly revered and honored by every German,
and never while a dirigible flies will any country fail to pay homage to
his illustrious memory.
That night, after a formal dinner given at the airport in a great
banqueting hall, they listened to the Friedrichshafen Choral Society.
Next morning, Dulcie slipped away and explored the city. She was a
tireless walker, and her pleasant wanderings took her over miles of
clean and charming streets. The business part of the town was lavishly
decorated with flags and bunting in their honor. Everyone seemed to move
with a snap. There were no loiterers. Robust people did robust work, as
though they enjoyed it.
In the outlying parts, an exquisite neatness prevailed. Small, even
humble homes, had their patches of lawn and tiny vegetable plots that
were as lovely as rose gardens, so beautifully were they laid out and
cared for. Every building seemed fresh with paint.
“Even the skies look awfully blue,” Dulcie told herself. “Just like the
babies’ eyes.”
Her wanderings were delightful; the people were so friendly. They seemed
to know, down to the least little toddler, that the pretty fraulein had
come in the beautiful airship, for there were pleasant greetings for her
wherever she went. A cheery “_Guten Morgen, Fraulein_,” and as likely as
not a posy offered over a fence. When they found that she spoke their
own tongue, they would scarcely let her go.
She reached the hotel just in time to prepare for a luncheon given for
her by the Friedrichshafen Association of Housewives. She found numbers
of stiff and crackly ladies, from bright-eyed old grandmothers proudly
wearing the fashions of forty years ago, to demure brides with soft eyes
and pleasant voices that almost made the German gutturals pleasing.
Dulcie had a good time, and when she took leave of her cordial hostesses
was presented with a souvenir. She thought it was a small feather bed,
but it was an eiderdown quilt! It was a lusty quilt, fully six inches
thick, and covered with intricate patchwork, the handiwork of the
energetic grandmothers. Dulcie was completely overcome.
All that afternoon Mr. Hammond and his staff spent at the landing field,
where the Moonbeam was being looked over, inch by inch, by her own crew
and the German experts as well.
To the surprise of all, two small holes, not larger than lead pencils,
were found piercing the very tip of her nose. Inside, the metal was
fused! She had been struck by lightning during the storm. The injury was
soon repaired. Oil and gas were shipped, every bag looked over, and
every instrument tested for the long flight over the Siberian wastes.
David thrilled at the thought of this part of the flight. It was largely
unknown territory, where there was no aid to be had in case of accident.
With Red, he himself went over and over the ship, until they knew that
she was tuned up to concert pitch.
At five, the party started for Berlin. The city is only forty miles from
Friedrichshafen. After a fine dinner with the city officials and a
number of officers, they went to the opera, where boxes were reserved
for them. David stood in the back of the commander’s box, admiring
Dulcie from afar. She was completely surrounded by a group of dashing
young lieutenants, who were utterly captivated by her beauty and charm.
It was twelve o’clock before the last strains of Wagner’s immortal theme
died away, and they were escorted to a supper, after which they drove
back to Friedrichshafen, Mr. Hammond and the older of the German
officers sleeping quite openly.
Friday was their last day in Friedrichshafen, and Mr. Hammond was
himself host at a luncheon. There was great good fellowship, and a loud
chorus of German songs. The crew of the Moonbeam had gone to the landing
field, where they were eating much food as the guests of the German
crews. Directly after Mr. Hammond’s luncheon had come to an end, he
found a chance to speak to David.
“How much gas did you put on?” he asked.
“Ten thousand feet,” said David promptly.
“Did they varnish the propellers?”
“Yes, sir. Everything is in order. We could start in ten minutes if
necessary.”
“I think we will go shortly after ten. Most of these people whom we
know, with a million or so more, want to meet us at the field and say
_Auf Wiedersehen_, so we must not go ahead of time.”
“We have had a great reception, haven’t we?” said David. “To a shy
little country boy like me, it has been rather overwhelming.”
“Huh!” said Mr. Hammond, “I’m reeling in my tracks. By the way, when
have you seen Florsheim?”
“I was up at the hospital early this morning, and once yesterday. I will
go say good-bye before I leave for the field. What rotten luck that was,
wasn’t it?”
“A mean break,” agreed Mr. Hammond.
“I think poor Florsheim feels pretty low over it. He is enough better
now to think a little.”
“Have you seen Fraine?” asked the commander. “They just let me look in
on him after the operation.”
“No, I haven’t seen him, but it really doesn’t matter, because it will
be days before he knows anyone. Poor old Fraine! I certainly hope the
next time I am captain, there won’t have to be a war staged to get me
the job.”
“I’m sorry about Fraine, and Florsheim, too,” said Mr. Hammond, “but it
was an accident that might have occurred wherever Fraine had happened to
be. And as far as you go, David, well, boy, I am well satisfied with
you.” He patted David’s shoulder in a way that added value to his brief
praise.
“Wonder where Dulcie and the professors are,” he continued. “I hope they
haven’t gone off on some jaunt of their own. I clean forgot to tell them
that we are going out in a powerboat to see the lagoons and the coast
line. See if you can find them, will you?”
David ran the quarry to earth in the lounge. Doctor Sims had just heard
of another very old graveyard some distance from the city, but the
others succeeded in persuading him to postpone indefinitely his
contemplated pilgrimage thereto, for the lesser pleasure of an afternoon
on the water.
The launch was a gorgeous thing, with mahogany planking and silver
fittings. It was a calm day, and the water was scarcely broken by a
ripple. The launch shot through the water at furious speed, and the
young naval officer, whose guest they were, asked Mr. Hammond if he
cared to go faster.
“No, I don’t think so, thanks. I am rather timid, you see.”
A general laugh went up.
“How cruelly the commander must suffer, six thousand feet in the air,”
laughed the host.
“That’s different,” said Mr. Hammond, laughing at himself. “There is
something so upsetting about this.”
They went slower after that, and were able to see the beauties of the
sea and shore line.
“This actually makes me want to be a poet,” mused Doctor Trigg.
“You are one, dang it!” said Doctor Sims, violently.
“Me? Why, I never wrote a line of poetry in my life!”
“You do worse; you think it. I can feel it stewing around inside of you.
If it wasn’t for me, Martin, you would just be another nuisance to
humanity. But I choke you off—I choke you off!”
“Now that’s kind of you, Nicholas, but this scene ought to be excuse
enough for anyone. Even you, Nicholas. How does it make you feel? Be
honest!”
Doctor Sims reflected.
“Like a normal human being,” he said. “Nice day, nice boat, nice
scenery, much obliged to our host. Doesn’t that cover everything?”
Doctor Trigg laughed heartily. “Sims,” he said, “you are a ‘gem of
purest ray serene’.”
“There—you—go!” said Doctor Sims.
“Well,” said Dulcie, “it seems to me that you each say the right thing,
always.”
“Thank you, my dear,” said Doctor Trigg.
“Har!” said Doctor Sims.
Long shadows spent themselves across the lagoon as they returned to
Friedrichshafen. Mr. Hammond and David, accompanied by their host of the
afternoon, were driven at once to the hospital, where Mr. Hammond gave
last instructions for the care of his two officers. Back to the hotel,
then, and at seven dinner was served.
The many bells in the city had struck nine before the company rose.
Dulcie and David wandered out into the lobby.
“Gold lace,” remarked Dulcie, glancing about. “Did you ever see so much
of it?”
“Someone told me that there is much less than in the days of the
Empire,” said David.
“Well, it must have been sewed all over them,” sighed Dulcie. “It must
be heavy stuff to wear.”
“What do those huskies care for a little weight more or less?” demanded
David. “Gosh, they are big fellows!”
“They are no larger than you,” said Dulcie. “And very little larger than
Red, and daddy is taller than a lot of them, but not so thick. Only
Wally looks small.” She giggled wickedly. “Really, doesn’t he look
funny? The way he scowls, and stares up at them! But then,” she went on
gloomily, “look at me! I’m shorter than Wally. See how I have to look up
at ’em.”
“Yeah; they love it. But at that Wally isn’t so short; he’s just about a
scant average. The rest of us are all so big. Why, when I was a kid, I
used to worry for fear I would be too big to fly.”
“Children are funny, aren’t they?” agreed Dulcie. “Here’s our car; let’s
go out to the field. I’ll tell daddy we have gone.”
She leaned back in the car, with a sigh of relaxation.
“It has been wonderful, hasn’t it? Surely they won’t be half as glad to
see us in Tokio. Here, of course, they feel a great interest on account
of the Graf Zeppelin. And of course she did blaze the way; we are just
beating her time.”
“If we can,” hedged David. “We mustn’t crow. We are three hours behind
her time, now.”
“We will make it up,” said Dulcie, easily. “Oh, David, I have so many
cares. I have shipped home all the lovely presents people here have
given me, but I can’t express the live stock.”
“Koko?” asked David.
“Koko! Heavens, no! I wish it was Koko. David, I have two love birds,
four German Roller canaries, a kitten, and a marmoset.”
“A marmoset!” repeated David. “Why, that’s a monkey, isn’t it?”
“A very little bit of a one,” said Dulcie, groaning. “One of those
aviators gave it to me. He brought it over from Africa one day.”
David howled. He laughed so hard that people looked around at _der
grosse Amerikaner_, who was making so much noise.
“Oh, won’t it be fun when your father sees that menagerie? The air will
be just full of love birds, and monkeys, and rolly-canaries, and
kittens.”
“You are showing a cloven foot,” she said. “Don’t you like pets?”
David sobered down.
“Truly, I do, and I could be happy forever if I could have a couple of
love birds, and some canaries, and a kitten, and you—your marmoset,” he
added quickly, warned by Dulcie’s prim mouth.
“That’s better, big boy, and when we get home perhaps I will give you
some of them. The marmoset, and maybe my best love—bird! But now,” she
added, all too briskly, “we’ll soon be back on the Moonbeam. I’ve a lot
to do, and there will no doubt be thousands of _tüchtiger_ officers,
waiting to say _Auf Wiedersehen_.”