THE HAUNTED AIRSHIP
“Say, fellows, this is life on the ocean wave worth seeing, isn’t it?”
Hiram Dobbs spoke the words, and his auditors and jolly companions were
the young aviator and Elmer Brackett. It was the second evening out of
sight of land. The _Albatross_ had made splendid speed, and the
machinery had acted like a charm. Just about dusk, however, Professor
Leblance had ordered a drop to lower level.
“There is a low barometric pressure,” Dave Dashaway had heard him say to
Mr. King. “There is bound to be a change in the air currents shortly,
and I want to determine our course from the way they act. There are some
repairs to make, also, and we will slow down for at least two hours.”
The boys were immensely interested in the manœuvers of their craft under
the direct manipulation of the professor. The _Albatross_ was brought to
the surface of the water, resting on its floats as easily and gracefully
as the great ocean bird it was named after. A hint from the cook sat
Hiram thinking. Fresh fish would come in very acceptably for breakfast
next morning, he told Dave, and the trio decided to take the lighter of
the two boats and see what they could catch.
Mr. King warned them to keep within hailing range of the airship and
provided them with trolling lines. The young aviator and Elmer plied the
oars and Hiram did the fishing. He was gloating over the occasion with
satisfaction, and made the enthusiastic remark which heads the chapter
as he deposited a final catch, a fat codfish, in the bottom of the boat.
“That will do, Hiram,” directed Dave. “We have got more fish already
than we can use in a week, and some of them look as if they were not in
the eating class. The cook will know.”
“Yes, and see, we are quite a distance from the _Albatross_,” put in
Elmer.
A weird warning wind sang about them just then. The boys had been so
engrossed in their sport they had failed to notice that some scudding
clouds had obliterated the stars.
“Get to work, Elmer,” ordered Dave, picking up the oars. “We must be a
full mile from the _Albatross_.”
“Yes, and maybe that storm Professor Leblance told about is going to
catch us,” remarked Elmer, he too getting in shape for a row back to the
airship.
The minor headlight of the _Albatross_ guided them, and for this, a dim
spark in the distance, the little yawl was headed. The water had become
choppy, but the oarsmen felt equal to the task of the moment.
“Just see that!” shouted Hiram, as a phosphorescent streak crossed their
course. “It’s like a streak of fire.”
“There’s another one ahead,” said Elmer.
“Yes, and look! look!” exclaimed Hiram. “It’s a shoal of fishes. Big
fellows, too. Say, see them leap out of the water.”
It was a stimulating sight and a novel one to the boys. They were now
within less than a quarter of a mile of the airship. As Hiram spoke, the
big searchlight of the _Albatross_ suddenly flared up. It signalled the
boys to return, as Dave understood it.
“Say, I’m going to make a throw for one of those big fellows,” declared
Hiram.
“Don’t do it. Whew!” exclaimed Elmer. “They are big fellows. Did you
feel that?”
Some object had landed against the side of the yawl, nearly tipping it.
“It’s a big fish, almost as big as a shark!” shouted Hiram. “They’re
chasing the smaller ones. Whoop! I’ve caught something. Hurrah! Slow
down! Oh, the mischief!”
All in a fleeting second the excited lad shouted out, tugged at the
trolling line, bracing his feet against the bottom of the boat, and
then—flop! splash!
“Stop the boat!” rang out the voice of the young aviator, sharply, for
Hiram, his hand tangled in the trolling line, had been pulled clear over
the end of the yawl. His startled comrades saw him disappear, and strove
staunchly to put the boat about. As the craft half turned, there was a
shock and a crash.
A giant fish, perhaps a shark, had struck the boat amidships. The craft
was splintered in half as quick as a flash. The next minute the young
aviator and his companion were struggling in the water.
The big marine monster had apparently gone straight on its way in
pursuit of a disappearing phosphorescent mass. Dave grabbed out at the
one floating half of the wrecked yawl.
“This way—Hiram! Elmer!” he shouted at the top of his voice.
“I’m here,” panted Elmer, as he reached Dave’s side and grasped the edge
of the floating wreck.
“Where’s Hiram?”
“U-um! Thunder!” puffed the individual in question. “I’m safe, but my
big catch got away, line and all.”
“Never mind that now,” replied Dave. “We’re in a serious fix, fellows.”
“And all the fish in the boat gone, too,” mourned Hiram, dolefully.
“See here, both of you,” ordered Dave, decisively, “don’t waste any
time. We don’t know what kind of danger hovers about us. Yell!”
“Good and loud!” agreed Hiram, letting out a terrific warwhoop. The
others chorused in. Dave believed that their forlorn hail might have
some effect.
“They’ve heard us,” cried Hiram, joyfully.
“Yes, here she comes,” added Elmer, in a relieved tone.
The searchlight on the _Albatross_ was suddenly shifted. Its broad,
groping rays were focussed on the sea, searching for the castaways. The
glowing pencils of light came nearer and nearer. Finally the full
dazzling gleam swept the wreck and those clinging to it, and rested on
it.
“They have seen us,” declared the young aviator, as the searchlight
maintained a full focus directly upon them.
“And what next?” inquired Hiram.
“We will have to wait and see,” replied Dave.
Relief and rescue came almost magically quick. The larger yawl of the
_Albatross_ glided across the broad path of light, the veteran airman,
the anxious Grimshaw and two others its occupants.
“This ends all experiments in the fishing line,” declared Mr. King. “It
is a wonder some of those sharks did not attack you.”
“The searchlight probably scared them away,” suggested Grimshaw.
The adventure furnished a fruitful theme for discussion when the boys
were once more back in the comfortable cabin of the airship. Hiram,
however, continued to expatiate on his great catch and greater loss.
“I’ll bet it was a dolphin pulled me out of the boat,” he declared.
“Just think of it, fellows—catching a dolphin! That’s something to brag
about.”
A storm set in within the hour and the _Albatross_ speedily sought a
higher level. All the boys knew about it was what Mr. King told them the
next morning. The pleasing swaying motion of the giant craft had lulled
them to sound and refreshing slumber.
It was again after dark the next evening when the cook came into the
cabin, and looked at Mr. King in a manner that made the airman inquire
curiously:
“What’s on your mind, Demys?”
“Why, I found a window broken in the room just beyond the larder,”
reported the cook.
“Hailstone, maybe,” said Mr. King, casually; “you know we had some last
night.”
“Yes, I know that,” replied the man. “Later to-day I noticed two more
panes of glass cracked right across.”
“Perhaps the big strain of the wind in the storm last night weakened
them,” suggested the airman.
“Maybe,” assented the cook, vaguely. “Funny thing, though. I set a pan
of beans in the room to cool before supper. When I went after them just
now I found nearly half of them gone.”
“Is that so, now?” questioned Mr. King, beginning to get interested.
“Say, don’t you suppose it was rats?” propounded the quick-thinking
Hiram.
“No, sir!” declared the cook definitely. “I have never noticed a trace
of rats in the _Albatross_.”
“Then I’ll bet it’s another stowaway—say, just like Elmer here was.”
All hands laughed abruptly at this unique piece of guesswork.
“I reckon I was the only intruder aboard, Hiram,” remarked Elmer,
good-naturedly.
“Well, the beans are gone and somebody ate them,” said the cook. “It
couldn’t be anybody of the crew, for no one has passed through the
galley but myself, and the room I speak of is beyond it.”
“Suppose we investigate?” suggested the young aviator.
“That’s it,” agreed the impetuous Hiram. “Come on, fellows.”
All hands followed the cook to his quarters. They inspected the galley
and then entered the room beyond it. Sure enough, there was the dish of
beans, nearly half its original contents missing.
Hiram and Elmer explored every nook and corner of the place where there
was the least opportunity for a stowaway to hide. Their search was
without results.
“It’s certainly something of a mystery,” decided the young aviator.
“Those cracked windows, too. Why,” he added, examining them closely, “it
looks as though some one had deliberately hammered on them until they
gave way, as you see.”
There was another sensation the next evening. The cook came rushing into
the cabin. Mr. King happened to be on hand.
“I’m getting superstitious and scared,” declared the cook.
“What’s up now?” interrogated the airman.
“Enough for anybody’s nerves,” reported the man. “Sounds, scrapings,
sort of low groans. I’m beginning to believe the airship is haunted.”
“Nonsense!” said Mr. King. “When did you hear these strange noises you
describe?”
“Just now. See here, some of you come with me and see if you can figure
this thing out.”
The boys were ready enough for the investigation. The cook led them to
the galley, and they sat down as he put out all the lights.
“Now keep perfectly quiet and listen patiently,” directed the young
aviator.
“There’s something,” spoke Hiram in a hoarse whisper, as a queer cooing
sound came from the watched room. “Gently, now,” he added and crept
through the doorway.
There was a fluttering sound. Dave traced it to a corner of the room
where there were some boxes. The noise came from behind them. He groped
with his hand, and his fingers finally grazed a feathery, shrinking
object.
“Flare a light,” he called out instantly. “I’ve caught the stowaway.”
“Who is it? what is it?” cried Hiram, rushing forward as the electric
lights were turned on.
“Why, it’s a bird—a pigeon,” announced Dave, dragging into view a
ruffled, timid dove. “Here’s your mystery explained. The bird must have
been driven through the broken window during that storm the other night.
The poor thing was famished and ate the beans. Then it cracked the
window panes trying to get out again.”
“You’ve got it, Dave,” declared Hiram, “only, say, what is that fastened
under its wing?”
“Why, sure enough,” said Dave, observing what looked like an oilskin
package fastened with silk cord under the wing of the bird. “Fellows,
this must be a carrier dove. We must see Mr. King about this.”
The airman inspected the oilskin package. He read a written enclosure it
contained.
“This is a trained passenger pigeon,” he said. “Started from Rio de
Janeiro and carrying a message to its former home in Washington. Feed up
the bird, boys, and we’ll send the brave little thing again on its
journey.”
The next morning when the carrier pigeon was set free, started
landwards, it bore a second message. This told the world that the giant
airship was eight hundred miles on its trip across the broad Atlantic.