CHAPTER VI
The Zeppelin Hunt
Before long the wind rose, blowing strongly from the nor'west. Inless than an hour it had increased to half a gale and had veered dueeast. Vicious white-crested waves were slapping against R19's snubbows and surging in green cascades as far as the base of theconning-tower.
With the exception of the quick-firers everything on deck wasbattened down. The for'ard gun's crew was ordered aft until theirservices would be required; even then, duffel suits and oilskinsnotwithstanding, they stood, hanging on to the stanchion rails,shivering in the icy, salt-laden blast.
The sky, too, was now overcast, while the horizon was frequentlyobscured by patches of mirk as the rain-clouds scudded rapidly withthe wind.
"There she is, sir," shouted one of the seamen.
Although his words were unintelligible in the roar of the elements,his outstretched hand gave an indication that the quarry was insight. At an altitude of 3000 feet, and battling ineffectually withthe gale, was a large Zeppelin--one of the "L" type. She wasconsiderably down by the stern and manoeuvring badly. Two of her fivepropellers were motionless, while the action of her twin verticalrudders failed to keep her steady against the side-thrust of theremaining propellers. Steadily and surely she was being blown fartherand farther away from her base.
Lieutenant-Commander Stockdale had already laid his plans. In calmweather diving would be almost useless as a means of concealment; butin the choppy seas now running the submarine could with advantagesubmerge until the crucial moment.
No alteration of the vessel's course was necessary. The Zeppelin wasdrifting almost straight towards her. Any slight deviation could beeasily corrected by means of observation through the periscopes, forunless the air-ship turned and fled "down-wind"--an unlikelycontingency--she could not help passing within effective range of thesubmarine's guns.
"Trim for diving."
The order was carried out with the utmost dispatch. With hardly atremor the four guns, with their bulky mountings, sank into their"houses", the water-tight lids sliding automatically over the loweredweapons. The stanchions and rails fell as flat as did the walls ofJericho, but with far less noise and certainly no dust, althoughthere was plenty of spray to atone for the deficiency. Ankle-deep inwater, the men on deck waited until the submarine's platform wasclear of the swirling foam, then they too bolted below. Clang wentthe water-tight hatches and R19 was little more than ahermetically-sealed cylinder packed with machinery, eighty odd humanbeings, and Flirt.
Alone in the conning-tower, the manhole of which, communicating withthe interior of the hull, was left open, the Hon. Derek stood, hiseyes fixed to the object-bowl of the periscope, on which thesurrounding surface of the water was reproduced with absolutefidelity, marred only by a vertical and a horizontal line marked indegrees. In the middle part of the image, corresponding with thecentre of the field of vision, a specially-constructed lens enlargedthe view, enabling the observer to gauge the distance and thedirection of the target with the greatest exactitude. Although therewere voice-tubes and indicators at hand, the Lieutenant-Commander'sattention was directed mainly upon the object-bowl. Consequently heshouted his orders to a petty officer, whose head, as he stood on theshort steel ladder, was level with the floor of the conning-tower.
"Down to eighteen feet."
With an almost imperceptible movement, as the horizontaldiving-planes were actuated, R19 slid beneath the waves, the while"pumping" or rising and falling vertically under the constantalteration of the pressure of the water above her. Momentarily thevision in the object-bowl dimmed and again recovered its normalclearness, as clouds of spray enveloped the tips of the exposedperiscopes, almost immediately to vanish from the surface of theanti-moisture-treated glass.
In the confined space the noise of the well-running electric motorswas deafening. The torpedo-men were in the present instance able to"stand easy", but the engine-room artificers and stokers, their moistfaces glistening in the glare of the electric lights, were far fromidle. The gun-crews, clustered round the hatchway ladders, ready torush to their posts, were grimly silent, awaiting the order thatwould give them the chance to "strafe" a Hun gas-bag. Opportunitiesfor "strafing" were few and far between in the British submarineservice, not from inclination but from the absence of a suitabletarget; when a chance did occur the eager men were "all over it".
Standing immediately behind the petty officer stationed at thesound-receiving apparatus in a glass-encased compartmentSub-Lieutenant Fordyce noticed the man was listening intently, firstat the right-hand disk then at the left. Then, turning his head, heregarded his officer with a puzzled air.
Opening the door, Fordyce entered the sound-proof cabinet.
"What's wrong now, Chalmers?" he asked.
"Something fishy, sir," replied the man, stepping aside. "Will youstand here a minute, sir?"
The Sub took up a position between the two concave disks. He coulddistinctly hear the bass hum of the Zeppelin's aerial propellers,while faintly through the right-hand disk came the thud of a marine"screw".
That meant that on the starboard hand, abeam if anything, a vesselwas under way.
"Very good; carry on, Chalmers," said the Sub as he relinquished theapparatus to the man's charge. "I'll report to the Captain."
"What's that?" enquired the Hon. Derek, without turning his face fromthe vision of his expected victim. "Vessel to starboard? Nothing insight up-topsides, by Jove. All right, carry on. We'll tackle ourZeppelin friend first of all, and then see what it is that's worryingyou."
Fordyce could not but admire his skipper's coolness. Somewhere withinaudible distance of R19 was another under-water craft, hostile, nodoubt, and intent upon the British submarine's destruction,unless--jealous thought!--it were another of the E Class stalkingthe crippled airship. Whichever it might be, the Hon. Derek wasresolved to leave her severely alone, risking a torpedo or beingrammed until he had had a smack at the huge gas-bag.
"Up with her!" ordered the Lieutenant-Commander.
There was no necessity to blow the ballast-tanks. R19 had been keptto 19 feet solely by the action of the deflected horizontal divingrudders. Like an ungainly porpoise the submarine "broke surface", andthe guns' crews raced up the ladders and through the now openhatchways.
At an angle of 30 degrees from the perpendicular, and at a bare2000-feet altitude, was the Zeppelin, presenting a splendid target.Proceeding in the same direction as the submarine, she was evidentlyunaware of the latter's presence, for not a shot came from thequick-firers mounted in her nacelles, nor did an aerial torpedohurtle downwards towards the British craft.
No. 3 quick-firer--the one immediately in the wake of theconning-tower--was the first to open fire. Ere the haze of theburning cordite had drifted aft, the smoke from the bursting shellmushroomed close to the huge envelope. It seemed impossible that thefragile fabric could hope to escape the terrific impact. Another andanother shell sped from the submarine's guns. Still the Zeppelin heldon.
Then a cloud of black smoke hid the target from the gun-layers' eyes.The men raised a rousing cheer.
"Got her, by the bosun's cat!" shouted a bluejacket, unmindful ofeverything in his excitement and delirious joy.
But the cat of the afore-mentioned warrant officer must have been abad mouser, for when the smoke drifted away the Zeppelin was 12,000or 14,000 feet in the air. Under cover of the camouflage--for it wassmoke purposely emitted in order to screen her movements--theair-ship had thrown out a large quantity of ballast, and had shotvertically upwards out of effective range.
Even as they watched, the bluejackets were aware that R19 was portinghelm. Circling eight points to starboard, she headed straight for apole-like object forging ahead through the crested waves--theperiscope of a U-boat that was either about to "break surface" orelse to let fly a torpedo at the British submarine.