Sir Reginald Fosterdyke laid down his pencil and uttered an exclamation
of intense satisfaction. He had just "shot the sun" and had finished
working out his position.
"Another hour will see us at Gib., lads," he announced joyously. "Then
there'll be some mafficking. What's your programme? Going to pack your
suit cases and back by the Madrid-Paris express?"
"You are not leaving the 'Golden Hind' at Gibraltar?" asked Kenneth.
"No," replied the baronet. "But I must certainly get some repairs
executed before I resume my flight to England. I thought, perhaps, you
were in a hurry to get home."
"There's no immediate hurry, sir," declared the chums, simultaneously.
"A few more days won't matter," began Kenyon; but before he could
proceed with his explanation the alarm bell rang violently and
continuously.
"What's wrong now?" exclaimed Fosterdyke, snatching up the voice tube.
Peter, glancing aft through the window of the navigation-room, which
being raised gave a clear view over the roof of the rest of the nacelle,
saw at once what was amiss.
Dense volumes of smoke, tinged with dull red flames, were pouring from
the after-end of the fuselage. Fanned by the rush of the airship, the
black vapour was streaming in its wake like a fox's tail.
Leaving Kenyon to take charge of the navigation-room, and cautioning him
to keep the "Golden Hind" dead in the eye of the wind, and as fast as
she could possibly go, Fosterdyke and Peter hastened aft.
They found the alley-way thick with smoke, for on the well-known
principle that "the wind follows the ship" the draught was carrying the
fumes within the nacelle in a forward direction.
A man wearing a smoke helmet brushed past them. It was Hayward going to
find some fire-extinguishers. Others of the crew, who had hastily
donned masks to protect themselves from the choking vapour, were busily
engaged in hurling pyrene into the seat of the conflagration.
Although the speed of the "Golden Hind" through the air fanned the
flames, Fosterdyke had done well to order speed to be maintained. The
velocity had the effect of compelling the fire to trail astern instead
of spreading upwards and thus destroying the envelope. Even as it was
the heat had caused the non-inflammable brodium to expand, giving the
envelope a tendency to trim down by the head.
"Petrol tank to No. 5 motor, sir," reported a grimy and perspiring
mechanic, who through sheer exhaustion and being partly gassed by the
noxious fumes had to withdraw from the fray. "Went up all of a sudden,
like. Never saw such a flare up in all my life, sir; but we're getting
it under."
It was indeed a stiff fight. In a few seconds the area of the fire had
attained such large dimensions that it was impossible to reach the
actual source. The fire-fighters had first to subdue the fringe of the
conflagration, and by the time they had done this several of them were
_hors de combat_ by reason of the suffocating gases thrown off by the
oxygen-exterminating pyrene. Above the crackling of the flames came the
sharp tang of the suspension wires holding the nacelle to the aluminium
envelope as they parted under the terrific heat.
Not only were the crew faced with the danger of the fire getting the
upper hand; the while there was the chance of a portion of the fuselage
becoming detached from the gas-bag, and the prospect of being hurled
through space from a height of eight or nine thousand feet above the sea
was one that might well in cold blood put fear into the heart of the
bravest of the brave. But in the heat of action the crew, knowing the
danger, faced the risk manfully. Working in relays, they plied the
flames with the fire-extinguishing chemicals. As fast as one man fell
out, temporarily overcome by the fumes and the terrific heat, another
took his place until the fire was overcome. Even then the danger was not
over. There was still a possibility of the smouldering fuselage being
fanned into a blaze. Parts of the aluminium framework and panelling
were warped and twisted into fantastic shapes. Snake-like coils of wire
indicated the fact that several of the highly important connections
between the fuselage and the envelope had been burnt through. Whether a
sufficient number of tension wires remained to adequately support the
afterpart of the nacelle remained a matter of doubt.
Unaccountably the petrol tank feeding No. 5 motor had taken fire. The
pipes and unions had been frequently examined and found to be in good
order. In fact, Hayward had personally inspected the fittings of that
particular tank less than a quarter of an hour before the outbreak.
The damage was serious. Both Nos. 5 and 6 motors were out of action,
the former showing signs of crashing through the charred framework of
the fuselage. The flames had spread to Fosterdyke's cabin, completely
gutting it. Only a few aluminium frames were left, and these, blackened
and bent, trailed forlornly astern like a gaunt skeleton.
With the contraction of the brodium after the fire had been quelled the
envelope, instead of tending to tilt aft, now showed a tendency to
droop. The heat had melted the solder of the union pipes through which
the gas was passed either to or from the metal pressure flasks, and
several thousand feet of brodium had escaped.
Driven only by four propellers, her preciously scanty supply of brodium
sadly depleted, and with the controls of the two after planes damaged by
the flames, the "Golden Hind" was in a perilous state. She was just
able, and no more, to overcome the attraction of gravity. How long she
would be able to maintain herself in the air was a problem of
supposition.
Had the "Golden Hind" been supported by hydrogen gas nothing could have
saved her. The overcoming of the flames was a triumph for the
fire-resisting properties of brodium. The patent gas had been put to
one of the severest tests--an actual fire in mid-air--and had emerged
with flying colours.
From the time of the alarm being raised until the fire was subdued only
half an hour had elapsed. The smoke-grimed and fatigued crew were glad
to rest, while Fosterdyke and Peter returned to the navigation-room,
there to wash and replace their singed and reeking clothes with others
from Kenyon's and Bramsdean's kit-bags. The baronet had to borrow a
suit. The one he was wearing was in holes, while all his others on
board were destroyed when his cabin was burnt out.
Fosterdyke was cheerful. In fact he was jocular. He realised that
things might have been far worse; he was glad to find that the "Golden
Hind" was still navigable and that none of his crew had sustained
injury.
"This comes of boasting, Kenyon," he remarked. "I said we'd be in Gib.
in an hour. We stood a chance of being in 'Kingdom Come.' What's she
doing now?"
"Not more than eighty, sir," replied Kenneth, "and we've a stiffish wind
to contend with."
"Eighty, eh? Not so dusty, considering we're trailing the wreckage of
my cabin astern, and there's only four props to shove us along. She's
dipping, though."
"She is, sir," agreed Kenyon, gravely. "I've trimmed the planes to their
maximum. That tends to shove her nose up, but if I didn't she'd sit on
her tail."
"We'll finish at the tape like an aerial Cleopatra's Needle," declared
Fosterdyke. "Hello! There's Tangier. That strip of blue you can just
see beyond is the Straits of Gibraltar. We're a bit to the east'ard of
our course."
Another half an hour of strenuous battling against heavy odds brought
the "Golden Hind" immediately to the west of Ceuta. Ahead could be
discerned the famous rock, although viewed from an altitude and "end on"
its well-known appearance as a lion couchant was absent. But the "Golden
Hind" had shot her bolt. "We're baulked at the tape," declared
Fosterdyke. "This head wind's doing us. Hard lines, but we must take
things as we find them."
Like von Sinzig he had been beaten by the head wind, but Fosterdyke,
instead of raving and cursing like his German rival, accepted the
situation philosophically. It was hard lines, failing within sight of
the goal; but the baronet kept a stiff upper lip. He had done everything
humanly possible to achieve his aim. He could do no more.
The "Golden Hind," inclined at an angle of sixty degrees, was dropping
slowly but surely. With her remaining motors running all out she was
unable to overcome the pull of gravity. Even as she dropped, her
progress towards her goal was maintained at a rate of a bare five miles
an hour above and against that of the wind.
Every man on board was holding on like grim death. With the floor as
steep as the roof of a house there was nothing to be done but hold on.
The ballonets were practically empty save the four or five for'ard ones.
The propellers were now virtually helices--whirling screws that strove
valiantly but unavailingly to lift the huge bulk of the airship in an
almost vertical direction. Should the motors fail to function, then the
"Golden Hind" would drop like a stone. As it was she was falling surely
and slowly.
Already officers and men had donned their inflated indiarubber
lifebelts. There was not the slightest sign of panic. The men,
although keenly disappointed at failure within sight of success, were
joking with each other.
"Stand by to jump, all hands," shouted Fosterdyke. "Keep clear of the
raffle, and you'll be as right as rain. There are half a dozen vessels
within a couple of miles of us."
Some of the men slid along the sloping alley-way to the side doors.
Others tore away the large celluloid windows in the cabins and
motor-rooms, so as to be able to jump clear directly the fuselage
touched the water.
The two chums had drawn themselves through the windows of the
navigation-room and were standing on the blunt bows and steadying
themselves by the tension wires running from the normal top of the
nacelle to the underside of the envelope.
With the four motors running to the last the "Golden Hind" dropped into
the sea. Her projecting envelope was the first to come into contact
with the water. The ballonets, practically air-tight compartments,
checked the downward movement, while the whole of the hitherto inclined
bulk, pivoted as it were by the water-borne stern, dropped until it
resumed its normal horizontal position.
Fosterdyke alone had remained in the navigation-room. Directly he saw
that the airship was resting temporarily on the surface and was
beginning to gather way like a gigantic hydroplane he switched off the
remaining motors.
"Every man for himself," he shouted.