CHAPTER XXII--THE END OF Z64

  "By Jove! Kenyon, what's that over on our starboard bow?" exclaimedBramsdean.

  Kenneth raised his binoculars and focussed them on a dark object in thedirection indicated.

  "That," he replied after a brief survey, "is a Zepp. There's not muchmistake about that. She is also in difficulties apparently, since Zeppsdon't generally assume an angle of forty-five degrees. It is alsoreasonable to assume that it is Z64, since we know that von Sinzig waskeeping a course slightly divergent to ours. The southerly wind hasevidently driven her northward."

  Fosterdyke was asleep in his cabin, but upon hearing the news he hurriedto the navigation-room.

  "Are we Pharisees or Good Samaritans, sir?" enquired Kenyon. "Do wepass by on the other side, or do we stop to render assistance?"

  "It strikes me that something more than assistance is required," repliedthe baronet. "Obviously our friend von Sinzig is out of the running.His airship is down and out. If there are any of the crew on board,we'll be just in time to prevent them losing the number of their mess."

  Z64 was in a very bad way. The after part of the envelope was halfsubmerged. The rearmost gondola was entirely so. The foremost car wasrising and falling owing to the slight buoyancy of the for'ardballonets. At one moment it was thirty or forty feet above the water,at another it was smacking the surface and sending the spray far andwide.

  "Keep to windward," ordered Fosterdyke.

  "There are men still on board," replied Peter. "A dozen more or lessare hanging on to the catwalk."

  "It'll be rather a proposition to get them off," said the baronet. "Wehaven't a boat; neither apparently have they, and I don't like the ideaof running alongside a half-submerged gas-bag. With this heavy swellthere's no knowing what might happen."

  "We might run out a hawser and take her in tow," suggested Kenyon. "Imean, tow her until we get the crew off by means of an endless line."

  "Might do," half agreed Fosterdyke. "It would be decidedly awkward ifour head fell away and we drifted in broadside on to the wreckage.We'll try it. Tell Jackson to get a hawser ready, and see there is aslip fitted in case we have to cast off in a hurry."

  Already several of the ballonets that at first sight seemed beyondrepair had been patched up, while the fortunate discovery of two flasksof compressed brodium gave the "Golden Hind" considerable buoyancy, sothat she was no longer dependent upon the lift of her six planes. Yetthe prospect of having to take on board the weighty Hun crew wouldseriously threaten the buoyancy of the airship.

  "Luckily we are within sight of our goal," said Fosterdyke. "We cansacrifice a quantity of our stores. The reserve fresh water tank can bestarted, too. Two hundred and fifty gallons less of water ought to makea considerable difference."

  Leading Hand Jackson, with the help of four or five of the crew, soonmade the necessary preparations. By this time the "Golden Hind" hadapproached to within a hundred yards of the disabled Zeppelin, the crewof which, half in doubt as to what was going to happen, were signallingand shouting frantically for help.

  "Rescuing the crew of the _Hilda P. Murchison_ was child's play tothis," commented Kenyon. "Goodness only knows how we are going toestablish communication. Her blessed envelope is in the way."

  Thrice the "Golden Hind" sailed over her crippled rival. The trailinghawser glided over the rounded surface of the gasbag, but none of themen made any attempt to leave the gondolas and secure the rope. Itafterwards transpired that the aluminium envelope was sagging andwhipping to such an extent that the vertical shaft through it by whichaccess could be made to the upper surface of the gas-bag wasimpracticable. Anyone attempting to ascend by that way would almostcertainly be crushed to death.

  "Can't the lubbers see the hawser?" asked Fosterdyke, impatiently. "Orhave they all got the wind up so frightfully that they can't lift a handto help themselves? Get in that hawser, Jackson. We'll try approachingto leeward this time and see if they've got the sense to veer a rope."

  The manoeuvre required very careful execution. The "Golden Hind,"descending until her fuselage was but a few feet above the sea,approached carefully. She had to be kept under control up to a certainpoint, when way had to be taken off her. If she stopped too soon, shewould drift away before communication could be established; if shecarried on even a few yards too much, there was a danger of heroverlapping envelope colliding nose on with the wrecked Zeppelin.

  This time the Huns showed decided activity. They bent a line to aninflated indiarubber lifebelt and threw the latter into the sea.Unfortunately, they did not take into account the fact that the Zeppelinwas drifting to leeward as fast as the lifebelt. When they realisedwhat was happening one of the crew jumped overboard and towed the line ahundred yards or so away.

  "Now there's a chance of doing something," commented Fosterdyke,telegraphing for a touch ahead with Nos. 1 and 2 motors.

  As the "Golden Hind" passed immediately over the life-buoy a grapnel,lowered from the after-part of the fuselage, engaged the rope, and in aremarkably short space of time a stout hawser connected the Britishairship with the still buoyant bows of the German.

  Fosterdyke waited until the "Golden Hind" had swung round and waspointing "down wind," then he ordered easy ahead with the two for'ardmotors. This gave sufficient tension to the hawser, which was nowinclined at an angle of about thirty degrees.

  A "snatch-block" with an endless line was then allowed to run down tothe hawser.

  "Now the rest is easy," declared Fosterdyke, but for once at least hewas greatly mistaken.

  The first of the Huns arrived in a bowline on board the "Golden Hind."

  "How many are there?" asked Fosterdyke.

  "Ve vos dwanty," replied the German, holding up the fingers of bothhands twice in order to make his meaning clearer.

  More Huns emerging from the for'ard gondola of Z64 confirmed the man'sstatement. One was evidently an officer, but his features did not inthe least resemble those of Count von Sinzig, whose photograph hadappeared some time back in the illustrated papers.

  Seventeen Huns were transhipped in about as many minutes. Theeighteenth was half-way along the tautened hawser when Fosterdykeshouted, "Let go!"

  Leading-Hand Jackson obeyed the order instantly. The ring of theSenhouse slip was knocked clear, and the hawser fell with a splash intothe sea. The "Golden Hind," released from the drag of the partlywater-logged Zeppelin, shot ahead.

  She was only just in time. The baronet had noticed a tongue of flameissuing from the centre gondola of Z64. How the fire was caused was amystery, since had the Huns wished to destroy the wreckage they wouldhave waited until the last man was clear of the Zeppelin. Possibly thewiring of the electric stove had short-circuited when in contact withthe salt water.

  In less than fifteen seconds from the time the hawser had been slippedthe hydrogen escaping from the leaky ballonets was ignited. Thealuminium gasbag was surrounded by flames. The heat caused the gas inthe still intact ballonets to expand, affording sufficient lifting powerto heave the wreckage almost clear of the water. The remaining Huns,keenly alive to the terrible danger, promptly jumped into the sea.

  Then with a terrific glare the remaining ballonets burst, and theshattered wreckage, sizzling as it came into contact with the coldwater, disappeared beneath the surface, leaving a steadily wideningcircle of oil surmounted by a dense pall of black smoke to mark thescene of the end of Z64.

  Before the evil-smelling vapour had dispersed the "Golden Hind," turninghead to wind, was over the spot searching for possible survivors. Forhalf an hour she cruised round, but her efforts to rescue the three Hunswere unavailing. The men had either been stunned by the explosion orhad been hit by falling wreckage. Amongst them was Unter-Leutnant HansLeutter, who, by resolutely refusing to leave his command until the restof the crew were safe, had proved that all Hun officers were not of thevon Sinzig type.

  Several of the rescued Germans could speak English--but they weredecidedly retice
nt. In the back of their minds they rather feared thatthey were in for a bad time. They knew that their late kapitan had beenpractically outlawed and that he was "wanted" by the authorities forhaving, amongst other misdemeanours, destroyed the Fremantle aerodromeby means of an incendiary bomb. They rather expected that they would beblamed for the acts of their fugitive superior.

  On the other hand, they were grateful to their rescuers for having savedtheir lives, and with typical Teutonic reasoning they eventually decidedthat one way to repay the kindness and to ingratiate themselves in theeyes of the Englishman would be to give away their former officers.

  The spokesman led off by informing Sir Reginald Fosterdyke thatUnter-Leutnant Hans Leutter was the person who dropped the incendiarybomb from the observation basket in the hope that it would destroy the"Golden Hind."

  "He was, of course, acting under Count von Sinzig's orders," remarkedFosterdyke, drily. "Where is Herr Leutter?"

  "Dead," was the reply. "He was one of the three left on Z64."

  "And Count von Sinzig was one of the other two?"

  The German airman shrugged his shoulders and made a gesture of disgust.He still rankled over his kapitan's cowardly desertion. It was longobvious to all the survivors of Z64 that von Sinzig had no intention ofsummoning aid. Eight hours had elapsed since he began his flight in theAlbatross. In that time he must have sighted several vessels, since thescene of the disaster was not many miles from one of the great Atlantictrade routes.

  "Kapitan Count von Sinzig left Z64 soon after daybreak this morning,mein Herr," replied the German. "At seven o'clock, to be exact."

  "Left--how?" demanded Fosterdyke, sharply.

  "In an Albatross monoplane. He was last seen going east-north-east."

  Fosterdyke dismissed his informant and turned to Kenyon and Bramsdean.

  "The cunning old rascal!" he exclaimed. "I see his little game now.He's completing the final stage by aeroplane. I suppose by this timehe's won the Chauvasse Prize; but I don't envy him."

  "Will you enter a protest, sir?" asked Peter.

  "Protest? Not much," replied the baronet, emphatically. "Theseseventeen Huns can do the protesting if they want to, and I rather fancythey will."

  "There's many a slip," quoted Kenyon. "He may not complete the courseafter all."

 
Percy F. Westerman's Novels