The Dreadnought of the Air

  CHAPTER XXV.

  THE CAPTURE OF THE CAVARALE.

  HALF an hour later Henri opened his eyes. He looked about him fornearly a minute, then bravely attempted to rise.

  Dacres heard him muttering in French but could not distinguish thewords.

  "The horse," he murmured, pointing with his uninjured hand to theanimal that was still standing quietly browsing by its dead master.

  "All right," said Dacres soothingly. "I'll see about that later on.Drink some of this water."

  The young Frenchman gratefully accepted the proffered bottle, butsteadfastly refused to drink more than a very small quantity.

  "I feel much better now," he said. "Am I hurt very much? The roguewas too quick for me."

  "It's not dangerous," answered Dacres. Neither was it. Nevertheless,should complications ensue owing to the lack of proper medicalattention the result might easily prove to be fatal but for thepresent all that could be done was to cheer his wounded comrade andpersuade him to attempt to continue his toilsome journey.

  "How goes it?" asked Dacres, having assisted Henri to his feet.

  "I feel so: my head goes round and round, but I shall be all rightsoon. Try to catch the horse," he persisted.

  "Suppose I must tackle the brute, if it's only to humour Henri,"thought Dacres, then, with considerable misgiving, he approached theanimal.

  Greatly to his agreeable surprise he found that the horse alloweditself to be quietly led away from its former master. The change ofownership did not seem to matter so long as the animal had a humanbeing to assert his authority.

  The knowledge that the food supply was running short, prompted Dacresto examine the bodies of the slain Indians in the hope of findingsomething in their possession that would sustain him and hiscompanion; but he was disappointed.

  "Are you fit to make a start?" he asked.

  "Yes," replied Henri.

  "Then I'll lift you on to the horse's back."

  "But you?" objected de la Fosse. "We can both ride."

  "Thanks, I won't risk it," said Dacres emphatically. "If I fell off Imight drag you with me. I'm game for another forty miles, I think; solet me give you a heave up."

  Walking by the animal's side the Englishman set a steady pace, hisface still towards the seemingly elusive Sierras. The heat was nowterrific, and although Henri bore himself bravely, he sufferedagonies.

  Shortly after noon the travellers came across a small stream. Thiswas indeed good fortune. The water-bottle was refilled, the horsewatered, and additional wet bandages placed over Henri's wounds;while Dacres stripped and revelled in the comparatively cool stream.

  "I think I know where we are," said de la Fosse. "This river flowsthrough San Carlos and La Paz. We ought to be within ten kilometresof the road my father and I were following when we saw the twoairships."

  "In that case we ought to reach the 'Meteor' before to-night," saidDacres reassuringly, but in his mind he had grave doubts. The terrorsof the mountain pass loomed largely in his imagination. Burdened by awounded comrade the passage would be hazardous in the extreme.

  Buoyed up with hope Henri was impatient to resume the journey, andDacres, willing to humour him, complied. But the young Frenchman'sphysical strength was not equal to his mental powers, for within anhour of leaving the river he suddenly fell forward in a dead faint.

  Dacres caught him before he fell to the ground, then, lowering himgently, he rested his comrade's head on a mound, at the same timesheltering the luckless man from the fierce rays of the sun.

  To the Englishman's dismay the horse, hitherto quiet, reared, thengalloped off at full speed. The reason for the stampede was notdifficult to see; at less than a mile off were the Indians,reinforced till they numbered thrice the original band.

  Dacres was one of those men who see and enlarge upon perils a longway ahead. Perhaps it was natural caution. But the sudden appearanceof the swarm of natives simply roused the British bull-dog spiritwithin him. He was metaphorically about to fight with his backagainst the wall, although actually there was nothing to protect himfrom a rear attack.

  Carefully he drew Henri's revolver from his holster, opened thebreech and assured himself that the six chambers were loaded. Then,placing the remainder of the cartridges on the ground within easyreach, he knelt with a revolver in each hand, ready to open fire.

  Again the attackers prepared to execute their enveloping tactics.They were now within two hundred yards.

  "Come on, you brutes!" shouted Dacres furiously. "Come on, and have ajolly good thrashing."

  The possibility of being wiped out never entered his mind. He was nowa fighter who "saw red."

  A yell burst from the horsemen; then, simultaneously, the whole crowdbroke into a gallop, the hoofs of the horses making a terrific dinupon the hard ground.

  Suddenly, just as the attack was about to split into two sections,one of the men reined in his horse, almost pulling it on itshaunches. He pointed towards the sky, with fear and astonishmentwritten plainly on his dark brown features.

  The next moment the Indians had turned tail and were riding for dearlife.

  Dacres looked over his shoulder, half expecting to have fallen out ofthe frying-pan into the fire, and that the cause of the panic was theapproach of a body of Valderian roughriders.

  But to his astonishment and delight he beheld the "Meteor" flying atfull speed and momentarily looming up larger and larger.

  Dacres sprang to his feet and emptied both revolvers at hisretreating foes. They were already out of range, but the shots servedto attract the attention of the airship in case Whittinghame had notyet sighted his absent comrade.

  Five minutes later the "Meteor"--still gigantic in spite of the factthat she had been shortened by two hundred feet--alighted upon thegrassy plain The instant the rope-ladder was dropped men hastened tothe assistance of Dacres and his stricken friend, foremost amongstthem being Whittinghame and Antoine de la Fosse.

  "My son--is he dead?" asked the elder Frenchman, who was almostbeside himself with anxiety.

  "No; he's fainted," replied Dacres. "He'll be all right directlyHambrough takes him in hand."

  Quickly the crew of the "Meteor" rigged up a rigid stretcher, andupon this, lashed on to prevent him from slipping, Henri de la Fossewas taken on board the airship. As soon as the rest of the officersand men were embarked the Dreadnought of the Air rose to a height often thousand feet.

  "Well?" asked Whittinghame with his characteristic brevity whenasking a question.

  "It's all right up to the present, sir," said Dacres. "Your brotheris safe and so is Admiral Maynebrace. I've seen them both. It isessential that we should attempt their rescue at three o'clock Fridaymorning."

  In spite of his efforts to suppress it, Dacres gave a prodigiousyawn.

  "Excuse me," he continued, "but I've had no sleep for nearly fortyhours and precious little food."

  "Then, make a good meal," said Whittinghame, "and have a sound sleep.There's plenty of time before the day and hour you mention. Whenyou've told your story we'll lay our plans--no, not now. I refuse tohear another word till you have eaten and slept."

  The appearance of the "Meteor" in the very nick of time was not acoincidence. As soon as Antoine de la Fosse had set the wirelessapparatus in order a message came through from Whittinghame's secretagent at Naocuanha to the effect that two Europeans, posing aselectrical engineers, had escaped from the city by taking forciblepossession of a locomotive. Directly Whittinghame heard this heordered the final work of assembling the four remaining sections ofthe "Meteor" to be carried out with the utmost celerity; but beforethe ballonettes could be recharged, another "wireless" was receivedannouncing that the locomotive had been derailed after having beenthe means of destroying two of the Valderian air-fleet. It wassupposed that the fugitives had escaped since there were no traces oftheir bodies under the wreckage.

  "They've outwitted the rascals, de la Fosse," exclaimed the Captainwhen he received the news. "Trust Dacres to wriggle out of a
tightcorner. He'll see that your son comes through this business, too.Now, where do you think they'll make for?"

  "Not to the south side of the line, monsieur le capitaine; Henrie hastoo much sense to go to our home. He will doubtless lead MonsieurDacres across the plain to the south."

  "Very well; we'll make a search," decided Whittinghame.

  Thus the "Meteor," the damage having been made good as far aspossible, set out on her voyage of investigation. Keeping at a greataltitude she passed within ten miles of La Paz and shaped a courseparallel to the railway till almost abreast of the place where theengine was derailed. Then, by a pure chance, the crew "spotted" thebodies of the Indians and their horses who had fallen in the firstencounter.

  Descending they made a careful search, and Dacres' trail as he ledthe captured horse was picked up across an expanse of bare ground.The general direction was followed by the "Meteor" till the alertlook-out saw the Indians about to charge down upon the Englishman andhis unconscious comrade.

  For the next twenty-four hours the "Meteor" remained at a height often thousand feet, drifting with the light air current towards theSierras. Whittinghame did not mean to anticipate the time arranged byhis brother for the arrival of the airship at the Cavarale. For onething he wished Dacres to be as fit as possible after his arduousexperiences. He also was influenced by the fact that quietude wasessential to Henri de la Fosse, if he were to be saved from an attackof fever following his wounds.

  Whittinghame would have landed the patient and his father but for thefact that, in consequence of the affair at the Cavarale it would notbe safe for the Frenchman to risk a meeting with any of the Valderiantroops. As for Gaston he was miles away from the seat of war, andwould not be in any danger, at least, for some considerable time. Erethat Whittinghame proposed to embark him and take the reunited familyon board the "Meteor" when she started on her homeward voyage.

  As soon as the sun set the "Meteor," still keeping at a great height,started on her run to the outskirts of Naocuanha. There was plenty oftime, since the actual attempt to rescue the prisoners was not tocommence till one in the morning.

  Fortunately the night was dark. The stars were obscured; thesearchlights of the capital were directed solely towards the seaportof Zandovar, for the garrison was in hourly dread of a surpriseattack on the part of the British seamen and marines.

  Shortly after midnight the "Meteor" arrived above the city ofNaocuanha--unseen and unsuspected. The capital was at her mercy. HadWhittinghame wished he could have dropped powerful charges ofexplosives upon the buildings, but the idea of taking a meanadvantage did not commend itself to his chivalrous instincts.

  At 12.30 Dacres with Callaghan and ten of the crew entered No. 5compartment. They were fully armed, while in addition a supply ofshort cords and two sponges saturated with chloroform were provided.

  "All ready?" asked Whittinghame.

  "Ay, ay, sir."

  A metallic clang echoed through the after-section. The bolt actionhad been unlocked and No. 5 compartment was no longer joined to theremaining three divisions.

  Slowly the ultra-hydrogen was pumped out of several of theballonettes, and gently the independent division sank towards theearth.

  Stationed at an open flap in the floor, Dacres "conned" thedescending part of the airship under his command. Once or twice itwas necessary to start the motors to bring the two hundred odd feetof gas-bag immediately over the rectangular courtyard of theCavarale.

  By the aid of his night-glasses Dacres could distinguish the outlinesof the prison with tolerable ease. Nevertheless, every moment of thedescent was one of suspense.

  At any instant the huge overhead bulk might be seen by an alertsentry. In that case a bomb was to be thrown into the soldiers'quarters, and profiting by the confusion the airship was to descendas fast as possible and let loose her armed crew upon the terrifiedgarrison; but only in case of extreme necessity were explosives to beused.

  Only five hundred feet more. Perfect silence reigned below, while theonly sound that came from No. 5 section was the laboured breathing ofthe twelve men as they strove with their pent-up feelings.

  "Sentry!" whispered Callaghan pointing to a motionless figure on thewall nearest to the city.

  Dacres nodded. He would not trust himself to speak.

  Four hundred feet.

  Suddenly a light flashed from one of the towers, and a number of men,one of them carrying a lantern, emerged and marched along the broadflat roof. "Rounds, by Jove!" gasped Dacres, then springing to theemergency switch controlling the supply of ultra-hydrogen and theballonettes, he thrust it down.

  The hiss of compressed air that followed seemed to the crew loudenough to arouse the whole garrison. Simultaneously the downwardmovement was checked and the section leapt quickly to a height of athousand feet.

  "Keep her there," ordered Dacres, then, glass in hand, he returned tohis post of observation. Thank heavens the visiting rounds hadneither heard nor seen the danger that threatened them. The crewcould catch the sibilant challenge of the sentry as the soldiersapproached his post. Having satisfied themselves that all was well,the rounds passed on to the next sentry, and so on till they hadcompleted a tour of the walls. Then, descending to the courtyard by aflight of steps, the party crossed the _patio_ and disappeared withinthe guard-room.

  "We'll wait another half-hour," said Dacres. "Perhaps by that timethe sentries will not be on the alert."

  "Very good, sir," replied Callaghan. "I've tumbled across SouthAmerican soldiers before now, and, between you and me, sir, theyain't up to much."

  "Cap'n coming alongside, sir," reported one of the crew as coolly asif announcing the approach of the captain's gig towards a man-of-war.

  Silently the major part of the "Meteor" glided within fifty feet ofNo. 5 section.

  "What are you waiting for?" demanded Whittinghame.

  "We saw the rounds were out, sir," replied Dacres.

  "Oh, all right. I thought perhaps that something had gone wrong withthe exhaust pumps."

  "Oh, no; they are working most splendidly," announced Dacres. "We'vedecided to wait till the sentries quiet down after being visited bythe rounds."

  "Do you think you could do better by descending about a mile from theprison and scaling the walls?" asked the Captain.

  "The difficulty would be to get the rescued prisoners to the airship,sir; I think we had better stick to our original plans."

  "Very good," was Whittinghame's only comment.

  Slowly the minutes sped, till Dacres, shutting the case of his watchwith an emphatic snap, gave the order to descend.

  Far below the glimmer of a match told its own tale. One of thesentries was lighting a cigarette.

  "Look out," whispered Callaghan. "Blest if the four of 'em aren'taltogether. That's a bit of all right."

  The quarter-master spoke truly. Three of the Valderian soldiers haddeserted their posts and had joined the one stationed on the westwall--that nearest to the city.

  "Silly asses!" ejaculated Dacres "they are playing into our hands."

  The four men were apparently having a friendly argument. Morecigarettes were produced and lighted. Then after a short interval thesentries entered one of the towers and shut the door leading on tothe roof. A gleam on the stonework told the aerial watchers that theunsuspecting soldiers had lit a lantern.

  Two hundred--one hundred and fifty feet.

  No. 5 section was now barely twenty feet above the walls andimmediately over the courtyard. Her fabric, dimly illuminated by thedistant searchlights, could not have escaped the notice of thesentries had they been at their posts.

  Dacres now felt tolerably certain of success. Even had the sentriesemerged from their unauthorized place of shelter the suddentransition from artificial light to the darkness of the night wouldhave prevented them from seeing anything for at least half a minute.

  With a slight tremor the detached portion of the "Meteor" alightedfairly equidistant from the encircling wall. Quickly Dacres and eightmen
descended and anchored the craft by means of ropes secured to therailings surrounding the _patio_.

  Silently the adventurers followed their leader up the outside flightof stone steps on to the roof. Twenty yards farther on was the towerin which the faithless sentries were skulking.

  Dacres looked through the narrow space formed by the door being ajar.The four Valderians were standing around an upturned barrel on whichstood a candle. The men were deep in a game of faro, peering throughthe smoky atmosphere with eyes intent only upon the cards which werebeing thrown upon the impromptu table.

  Signing to his men to approach, Dacres held up his revolver.

  "Now," he exclaimed.

  Pushing open the door he entered, following by his men.

  For a moment the Valderians could not credit their senses. Theystared stupidly down the muzzles of half a dozen revolvers. The cardsdropped from their nerveless fingers, their winnings clattered on thefloor. At the same time the candle toppled over and went out, leavingthe room illuminated only by a lantern set in one corner.

  Then one of the soldiers raised both hands above his head. Hiscompanions followed his example with surprising celerity. Withoututtering a sound they tamely surrendered.

  "Secure them," ordered Dacres.

  In a trice the four trustworthy sentries were gagged and bound handand foot. The knots were tied as only seamen know how: there waslittle fear of the prisoners being able to slip their bonds; while toprevent them from moving to each other's assistance each Valderian'srifle was lashed to his legs by cords above the knees and round theankles. The captives were as helpless as logs of wood, and incapableof uttering a sound.

  "Now for the guard-room," whispered Dacres.

  This building, situated in one corner of the courtyard, could begained either by descending the steps leading to the roof of thebuildings abutting on the outer wall, or else by a covered waycommunicating with the quarters occupied by the rest of the troops.

  The first was the only practicable way for the British airship's mento tackle the guard; but the great danger now was that should any ofthe soldiers on duty escape into the living-rooms by means of thecovered gallery all chances of a complete surprise would be lost.

  The guard-room was roughly furnished. There was a long table on whichstood several empty wine glasses. Round the walls were wooden formson which two men were sitting. Half a dozen more, including theserjeant, were lying on the floor, wrapped in blankets. In a rackclose to the door were the rifles of the soldiers on duty.

  Without hesitation Dacres and his men rushed as quietly as they couldinto the guard-room and planted themselves between the arms-rack andthe surprised Valderians.

  One of the latter, more daring than his comrades, made a dash for thefarther door communicating with the men's quarters. Before he couldopen it Callaghan struck him on the temple with his clenched fist.The fellow dropped like a felled ox, the Irishman catching him erehis body flopped noisily upon the floor.

  This slight commotion was sufficient to arouse the sleeping soldiers.

  "Surrender or we shoot!" ordered Callaghan in the execrable Spanishhe had picked up during a three years' commission in Gibraltardockyard.

  Without hesitation the men threw up their arms.

  "Now what's to be done with this lot, sir?" asked the Irishman. "Wecan't waste time lashing 'em up."

  Dacres saw that the windows were small and heavily barred, and thatthe locks on the door were strong.

  "Remove the bolts of those rifles," he ordered. "Now, Callaghan, tellthese men that if they attempt to escape or utter a sound we'll makeit hot for them."

  This the Irishman did, uttering threats that he had learned from theScorps of the Rock which, judging by the speaker's ferociousgestures, struck terror into the hearts of the cowardly Valderians.They vowed compliance with such vehemence that they had to be told tokeep silence lest the noise should alarm the rest of the garrison ofthe prison. Locking both doors and taking possession of the keys,Dacres led his men towards the barrack-quarters where the remainderof the rank and file--thirty all told--were asleep.

  Now it was that Dacres' knowledge of the plan of the buildings wasput to good account. He knew that underneath was a large storeroom,to which the only means of access was by a trap-door in the corridoroutside the barrack-room. Once the soldiers could be forced into thissemi-dungeon they would be incapable of doing any mischief.

  The room was in darkness. A delay ensued till one of the "Meteor's"men took down a lantern that was hanging in the covered way.

  "Two at a time," whispered Dacres, pointing to the triple line ofsleeping men who were stretched in various attitudes on strawpalliasses on the floor.

  The first two sleepers were rudely awakened to find their arms andlegs pinioned and a horny hand over their mouths. Incapable ofresistance they were carried to the top of the ladder leading to thecellar, then fiercely threatened by the huge Irishman they werecompelled to descend into utter darkness.

  Twenty Valderians were served this way, when one fellow managed togive vent to a terrific yell, at the same time gripping with hispowerful teeth the hand that strove to stifle his cry of alarm.

  Instantly the remaining soldiers were awake, but being unarmed, theysaw the uselessness of resistance. Without further trouble they weremade to join their comrades in the underground cellar.

  Without loss of life on either side, the Cavarale was in possessionof the crew of the "Meteor."