Above the staccato of rifle-firing rose the roar of the "Golden Hind's" powerful motors. Volumes of brodium, released from the pressure-flasks, rushed into the ballonets. The airship rose at an oblique angle, her nose almost touching the ground. Then, as the aerial propellers went ahead, the fore-part of the fuselage ploughed over the rough ground. With thirty or forty men hanging on like grim death to the guide-lines, and as many more tailing on to the grapnel ropes, the "Golden Hind," with gas leaking from numerous bullet holes in her ballonets, was unable to seek refuge in her natural element. Fortunately for the safety of the airship's crew, the rifle-firing quickly ceased as soon as the attackers realised that they had effected her capture. Apparently it was their intention to prevent further damage being done to the huge airship. Finding that escape was impossible and unable to offer resistance, Fosterdyke opened out one of the doors of the nacelle and raised his hands above his head. It was no disgrace in surrendering thus. Alive the crew of the "Golden Hind" could offer and receive explanations. Dead, they could not. The appearance of the captain of the "Golden Hind" was greeted by peremptory orders, shouted in an unintelligible language. It certainly wasn't American. It seemed to Fosterdyke that it was a kind of Spanish, and since he was ignorant of that tongue he failed to grasp the meaning of the volume of directions. Covered by scores of rifles, Fosterdyke, Kenyon, and Bramsdean headed the crew of the airship. Completely bewildered by the aggressive nature of their reception, and not knowing what fate would befall them, the position of the British airmen was critical in the extreme. Yet they bore themselves calmly and bravely, scorning to let their captors know that inwardly at least they "felt the breeze." Deftly, as if they were well used to performing the operation, two half-breeds searched the baronet for concealed weapons. The rest of the crew were subjected to the same treatment. Finding nothing in the nature of arms, the searchers looked rather astonished and disappointed. A gorgeously uniformed man, evidently the commandant of the band, walked up to the baronet and saluted with an elaborate flourish. There was little doubt about it; he had already come to the conclusion that a mistake had occurred, and that he rather feared the consequences. "Americano, seÑor?" he asked. "No," replied Fosterdyke. "English." "Madre de Dios!" ejaculated the commandant in ill-concealed consternation. He shouted something to his followers. After a brief interval, a tall, olive-featured follower, whose black oiled locks fell on his shoulders, slouched forward and announced-- "Me speak English. Vot you do here?" Mutual explanations took a considerable time; but eventually Fosterdyke and his companions gleaned the salient facts for the reason of the attack and capture of the "Golden Hind." In the tropical mists the airship had landed not in the Panama Zone but in a neighbouring republic, which, as is by no means an unusual occurrence, was indulging in a little political diversion in the shape of a revolution. Just at present there was no means of ascertaining which was the predominant faction, but one side had gained possession of an old airship--purchased at a disposal sale of one of the Entente countries. This airship, hastily fitted out and provided with bombs and machine-guns, was known to be on the point of operating against the Federals. The latter were therefore expecting the raiding airship when the "Golden Hind," miles out of her course owing to the mists and a side wind that, unknown to the navigating officers, had blown her well to leeward, fired her detonating rockets almost immediately over the Federal party's main force. The Federals knew nothing of the Round the World Race; but their anxiety to make amends was most marked. They offered to provide unlimited supplies of petrol, and to render any assistance that lay in their power; but the fact remained that the hasty fusillade had caused considerable damage to the "Golden Hind." At first Fosterdyke thought that the airship was out of the running. Kenyon and Bramsdean were of the same opinion, for the loss of brodium through the punctured ballonets seemed a fatal obstacle to the immediate resumption of the flight. Further examination revealed the fact that half the number of the ballonets were holed. Of these almost every one could be patched and made gas-tight, since the rifle-bullets, being of small calibre and of high velocity, had bored minute holes. But what was far more serious was the shortage of brodium. Even by releasing the contents of the reserve cylinders it was doubtful whether there was sufficient to lift the airship. "We'll have a good try, anyway," declared Fosterdyke. "Once we get her up we'll rely on our planes to get us across the Atlantic. Thank goodness the motors are intact! I wonder if there's much damage done to the navigation-room. Several bullets came unpleasantly close to our heads, I remember." Examination resulted in the knowledge that although the aluminium sides of the nacelle had been liberally peppered, most of the nickel bullets had penetrated both sides without doing vital damage. What was the most serious injury was caused to the propellers of Nos. 5 and 6 motors, the feather-edged blades being chipped by bullets. Since the spare blades had already been used earlier in the voyage replacement was out of the question. The ragged edges meant at least a reduction of ten miles an hour, even if the blades did not fly to pieces when the propellers were running at maximum speed. During the rest of the night the crew worked with a will--patching, mending, and "doping" the holed fabric and carefully testing each repaired ballonet with compressed air before refilling it with the precious brodium. Meanwhile, the Federals brought quantities of petrol, employing teams of mules for the purpose, their petrol dump being a good five miles from the scene of the "Golden Hind's" unfortunate landing. Every drop had to be passed through a fine gauze strainer before being allowed to enter the tanks, since foreign matter in the fuel might easily result in motor trouble. Anxious to make amends, the commandant also presented the baronet with a quantity of excellent tobacco and cigars, several native cakes made of maize, an earthenware bowl filled with good butter, and a wicker crate of fresh fruit. By dawn the refitting of the "Golden Hind" was accomplished as far as lay in the power of the dauntless crew. Now came the crucial test: would the airship rise under the lifting power of the reduced volume of brodium? At seven o'clock the huge fabric showed signs of buoyancy. A quarter of an hour later the recording instruments showed that only another thousand cubic feet of gas was necessary to overcome the force of gravity. "We haven't that quantity, sir," reported Chief Air Mechanic Hayward. "But I would suggest, sir, that we release our reserve gas into the for'ard ballonets. That will lift her nose clear of the ground, and the propellers will do the rest. Once we're up, sir, it will be as easy as shelling peas." "We can but try it," replied Fosterdyke. "At any rate, if we can make Panama we will manage with hydrogen for the remaining ballonets. Right-o! Pass the word when you're ready." At seven-thirty the crew were at their stations. The for'ard portion of the airship was straining at the guide ropes. The declutched motors, purring gently at a quarter throttle, were awaiting the order that would transform them into propulsive forces. Until the planes could be brought into action the "Golden Hind" was much in the nature of a rocket soaring obliquely under the influence of a self-contained impulsive charge. Throwing open one of the windows of the riddled navigation-room, Fosterdyke surveyed the crowd below. The Federal troops, in spite of their bizarre uniforms and varied equipment, were fairly well disciplined. Those not actually engaged in holding down the airship were formed up at about fifty yards from the nacelle, interested spectators of the largest airship that had ever passed over the territory of the Central American Republic. "Let go!" shouted the baronet. The order, interpreted by the Creole who claimed to have a knowledge of English, was obeyed promptly. The men seemed to have an inkling of what would happen if they did not, and they dropped the guide ropes as though they were hot irons. Simultaneously, as the bows of the "Golden Hind" lifted, Kenyon telegraphed for "full ahead." With four of the propellers purring in their accustomed way and the two after ones roaring like gigantic buzzers, as the jagged edges revolved rapidly in the air, the "Golden Hind" ascended obliquely, with her major axis inclined at an angle of forty degrees to the horizontal. The Federal troops were waving their nondescript headgear and brandishing their rifles in token of farewell. Doubtless they were cheering and shouting also, but the noise of the airship's propellers out-voiced all extraneous sounds. At a height of one thousand feet the six planes were trimmed and brought into action, with the result that the "Golden Hind" settled down on almost an even keel. Four minutes later the scene of the unfortunate "regrettable incident" was lost to sight. "Thanks be, we're up!" ejaculated Fosterdyke. |