CHAPTER XXXVI.
THE ABANDONED FLYING-BOAT.
WHITTINGHAME could now see the reason for the manoeuvre. One of thederricks of the stumpy foremast was swung outboard. Her donkey-enginebegan to work, and from the sea, with the water pouring out of her,was hoisted the waterlogged flying-boat.
The plane on her port-side had completely vanished, and only a fewfragments of her starboard one remained. Standing amidships andsteadying themselves by the spars of the lifting tackle were threemen--Reno Durango and his Valderian crew.
When the crippled craft was half-way up the side of the tramp thedonkey-engine stopped. The captain of the vessel, leaning over thebridge rail, shouted to the three castaways. Durango replied,vigorously shaking his head and gesticulating wildly in the directionof the "Meteor."
Apparently his protests were unavailing, for he grasped a ropetrailing from the tramp's rail and clambered on board. His companionsfollowed suit.
The argument proceeded. Evidently the master of the cargo vesselwished to steam towards the airship, and to this suggestion Durangodemurred strongly. After a while the wrecked flying-boat was loweredinto the water again, and the lifting tackle cast off, the Mexicanpointing towards the abandoned craft and talking volubly.
With a shrug of his shoulders the skipper walked to the centre of thebridge and telegraphed to the engine-room. The tramp's propellerbegan to revolve, and the lumbering vessel gathered way.
For some moments Durango stood as if in despair, then leaning overthe bridge-rail shook his fist at the disabled airship.
Through his binoculars Captain Whittinghame saw his expressionclearly. The rogue, despite his own troubles and obviousdisappointment, was gloating over his rival's misfortunes.
Without saying a word to his comrades in the observation room,Vaughan Whittinghame went below and made his way to the afterengine-room, where Parsons was found lying on his back with portionsof the partly-stripped motor all around him.
"How long, now?" asked the Captain.
"A couple of hours, maybe, sir," replied the engineer.
"Can you manage in an hour? The after-motors will be sufficient."
"I'll try my best, sir," replied Parsons, unwilling to commithimself.
"Very good; carry on," rejoined his superior, and without anotherword he left the engineer to do his level best towards restoring themotors to a state of efficiency.
"We are sixty-four miles east a quarter north of the Galapagos, sir,"announced Dacres.
"Thank you," replied Vaughan. "Just one minute, Mr. Dacres; will youplease come on deck with me?"
The sub followed his chief. Whittinghame said nothing more until thetwo officers were out of earshot and on the deck of the water-borneairship.
"There's the vessel whose lights you picked up an hour ago, Dacres."
"Yes, sir; has she communicated?"
"She apparently meant to, but changed her mind. Do you see somethingfloating about two and a half miles dead to windward of us?"
The sub brought his telescope to bear in the direction indicated. Ittook him some time to locate the object, as it was almost in thereflected glare of the early morning sun.
"I have it, sir," he said.
"What do you make of it?"
"Cannot say, sir. Wreckage of some sort."
"It is," added Whittinghame. "More, it is the wreck of theflying-boat, and that rascal Durango has eluded us again."
"Surely he didn't survive the fall?"
"He did. I saw him boarding yonder tramp. Now, this is what I wantyou to do: take a compass bearing of the wreckage, and observe thedirection and rate of our drift. In an hour Parsons hopes to have theafter-propellers working. We will then forge ahead and investigateDurango's flying-boat. Do not say a word to any of the others untilafter breakfast. I know them: they would throw aside any idea of fooduntil we are fit to get under way; and, with all due respect to theirzeal, I am no believer in a man working on an empty stomach."
In exactly forty-nine minutes from the time that the Captain left themotor-room, Parsons had the engines ready for work. The fault, oncediscovered, was easy to remedy.
"Gentlemen," began the Captain after the morning meal was over, "Ihave unpleasant news to announce; but I can rely upon yourco-operation sufficiently to know that you will face it with yourcharacteristic determination. Reno Durango is not only alive, but heis on board the vessel we saw approaching us just before dawn.Fortunately we are no longer in a totally crippled state. Althoughthe supply of ultra-hydrogen is insufficient to lift the bulk of the'Meteor' our after-motors are once more in working order. I propose,therefore, to bring the 'Meteor' up to the wreck of the flying-boatand investigate. We will then take a drastic step. We will pump allthe remaining ultra-hydrogen in Nos. 2 and compartments into Nos. 1and 5; abandon and scuttle the first two compartments I havementioned, and resume the pursuit in a 'Meteor' that will be onlytwo-fifths of the size of the one that left England only a few weeksago. I mean to chase that rascal as long as there is sufficientbuoyancy to keep us in the air and as long as an ounce of corditeremains to actuate the motors."
"Hear, hear!" exclaimed the doctor, as if he were at a medicalstudents' smoking concert. The others present contented themselves byinclining their heads, but resolution was plainly visible on theirbronzed features.
The "Meteor" was navigated from the upper deck, her course setaccording to Dacres' observations. Meanwhile, owing to the now steadybreeze the airship had drifted nearly five miles from the scene ofthe disaster.
"There she is, sir," shouted the look-out man, "a point on thestarboard bow."
Travelling at a modest ten knots the waterborne craft made straightfor the flying-boat that was lying practically awash in the slightswell. Owing to her immense bulk and to the fact that she had littleor no grip upon the water the airship was almost unmanageable. To runto leeward of the wreck was to court disaster, for the thin aluminiumplates were especially liable to be stove in should they come incontact with the water-logged craft.
"I'll swim to her, sir," said Dacres. "If we bring the 'Meteor' bowson to the wreckage I can easily take a light line to her and make herfast. She will serve as a good sea-anchor while we makeinvestigations."
"How about sharks?" objected Whittinghame.
"Must risk that, sir. A couple of men with rifles will scare themoff."
"Very good; I'll see that they are the best shots we have on board. Ishouldn't like to see you plugged, Dacres--especially by one of ourown men."
Dacres smiled, then proceeded to strip. Waiting till the "Meteor" wasdead to leeward of the remains of the flying-boat, and moving aheadonly enough to counteract the drift caused by the wind, the sublowered himself over the bows. Round his waist was made fast one endof a length of mackerel-line, which though strong was not heavyenough to impede his progress.
"Pay out!" he shouted, at the same time slipping into the sea. Thewater was agreeably warm and remarkably buoyant. Dacres swam withease, fifty strokes being sufficient to enable him to gain the wreck.
As he scrambled over the gunwale the boat dipped stern-foremost, buton sitting on one of the thwarts with the water up to his chin shequickly resumed a horizontal position.
Dacres' first act upon getting on board was to haul in the lightline, to which was attached a stout grass rope. The latter he madefast to a bollard in the bows of the craft, which enabled the"Meteor" to ride comfortably to her practically submerged "mooring."
Considering the weight of her motors it seemed wonderful that theflying-boat kept awash, till the sub discovered that fore and aftwere air-tight lockers. Indeed, the hull of the boat seemed butlittle damaged. Evidently as she was executing a loop she struck thewater with very little speed in a vertical direction. It wascertainly strange that Durango and his companion had not been hurledclear of her as she fell, and the only conclusion Dacres could cometo was that the men when they felt their craft falling must havethrown themselves under the waterways and held on tightly during hererratic downward p
lunge.
"Much amiss?" shouted Captain Whittinghame.
"Very little, I believe, sir," replied Dacres. "She may be slightlystrained."
"Is she fitted with slings?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then, stand by; we'll haul you to windward and abreast of No. 3section."
Evidently, thought Dacres, the skipper had some scheme in his mind'seye. Whittinghame had. It would be possible to stow the boat aboardthe airship, for in her curtailed displacement there would besufficient ultra-hydrogen to lift the slightly added weight. Shouldoccasion serve the hull of the flying-boat, if repaired, would make ahandy tender.
In response to an order several of the crew brought up stout firspars from below. These they lashed to the deck, allowing theirslightly tapered ends to project seven feet clear of the extreme beamof the airship. To these, stout purchase blocks and tackle weresecured, the falls manned, and the lower blocks lowered to thewater's edge.
It was now an easy matter to cant the airship sufficiently for thewater-logged craft to be brought immediately under the improviseddavits. Deftly the sub adjusted the hooks of the lower blocks andgave the word to haul away.
Under the heavy strain the "Meteor" took a list to starboard, and bythe time the gunwales of the boat were a foot out of water theairship's decks were at an angle of fifteen degrees.
"She won't stand it, sir," expostulated Setchell, "unless we stationat least twenty men on the port side."
"I don't mean her to," replied Vaughan Whittinghame. "Couple up alength of hose to the auxiliary pump. We'll soon throw the waterclear of her. One blessing, it shows the boat's topsides are fairlytight. I was rather afraid of it, when I remember seeing the waterpour from her as the tramp's derrick heaved away at her; but Isuppose it was that she was not slung accurately. Any signs of thewater leaking out of her, Mr. Dacres?"
"None, sir," replied the sub, who had now emerged from his liquidsurroundings, and was perched upon the turtle back deck.
"Very good. We're sending down a hose."
Ten minutes later the pump sucked dry. Relieved of the weight ofwater the salvaged boat's keel was a foot clear of the surface, whilethe "Meteor" had practically recovered from her awkward list. Thelightly constructed hull and the motor together weighed less thantwo-and-a-half hundredweight, so that on being hauled up level withthe upper deck it was a comparatively easy matter to get the craftinboard and secure her on that part of the platform over No. 5section.
Two of the crew, skilled shipwrights, at once proceeded to overhaulthe planks, while Parsons and his assistant attended to the motor,which, owing to its comparatively short period of submergence, washardly affected by the salt water.
It did not take Dacres long to resume his clothing and report himselfready to carry on with his duty, for there was much to be done andvery little time in which to do it.
All the stores and gear that were absolutely essential were removedfrom those compartments that were to be abandoned, and carefullystored in the remaining divisions. The ultra-hydrogen was thenexhausted and recharged into the ballonettes of the fore and aftsections. In an hour from the time of salving the flying-boat the"Meteor" was ready to shed her now superfluous 'midship divisions.
Meanwhile, Dacres and Gerald Whittinghame had carefully examined theinterior of the hull of Durango's craft, but no trace of thesubmarine plans were forthcoming. Nor had Captain Whittinghame seenthem in the Mexican's possession as he boarded the tramp steamer.During the chase Durango had been seen holding the precious documentsready to drop them into space, but none of the men in the "Meteor's"observationroom could state definitely what happened to them afterthe Mexican had been thrown upon the floor-boards of the boat.
"I wish I knew that they were actually destroyed," said Vaughan whenthe result of the search was reported to him. "Circumstantialevidence is always most unsatisfactory. However, Durango cannot getaway from the ship until she touches port, and long before that Ihope to be able to have a few words with him. All ready, there, Mr.Setchell?"
"Ay, ay, sir."
"All clear aft, there?"
"Ay, ay, sir," replied Dr. Hambrough, who looked more like a SouthAmerican stevedore than a member of an honourable profession, for hehad neither spared himself nor his clothing in assisting to clear thecondemned divisions of the airship.
Giving a final glance around to satisfy himself that all was inorder, Captain Whittinghame touched the switch operating thecam-action bolts. Instantly the "Meteor" split into four separatedivisions. The two central ones, stripped of heavy gear and withtheir ballonettes devoid of gas, rolled over and over on the surfaceof the sea, for very little water had as yet entered the scuttles,which had been left open.
The bow and stern sections shot upwards to a height of nearly athousand feet. The bow division, being unable to be manoeuvred undermotor-power, had to float aimlessly until the after section,skilfully steered under Dacres' direction, was brought end on andquickly secured.
The "Meteor," although now but four hundred and forty feet in length,was again fit to resume her pursuit of the arch-rogue, Reno Durango.
Vaughan Whittinghame showed no immediate desire to take up the chase.Gripping the stanchion rails he lent over the stern, his eyes fixedupon the two cylindrical objects far beneath him: the abandonedsections of his beloved airship. He watched them as they slowlyfilled. They were no longer lively, but wallowed sluggishly in theslight swell. They sank slowly: quite three-quarters of an hourelapsed ere one section slipped quietly beneath the waves. Itsdownward course was clearly visible long after it had sunk beneaththe surface of the Pacific. Five minutes later No. 3 section plungedto its ocean bed--a sacrifice to the force of circumstances.
Whittinghame turned abruptly. His eyes looked suspiciously moist, butwithout a tremor in his voice he gave the order "Clear upperdeck."