The Airship Golden Hind
CHAPTER XXIV--WITHIN SIGHT OF SUCCESS
Count Karl von Sinzig had not started upon his long solo flight in theAlbatross without studiously calculating his chances. He knew themachine and its capabilities, and, given ordinary luck, he saw no reasonwhy he should not make a landing on Spanish soil, replenish fuel, andcarry on to his hangar in Estremadura before his hated rival arrived atGibraltar. Even if there were delays in obtaining petrol, he still had auseful lead, thanks to his twelve hours' start in advance of the "GoldenHind." The two hundred extra miles he had to cover beyond Gibraltar wasa mere bagatelle--a question of an hour and twenty minutes' flight.
He rather regretted that the accident to Z64 had not occurred nearer theAfrican coast; but realising that he was lucky to be able to carry on,he ran the risk of a prolonged flight over the sea with comparativeequanimity.
Within an hour of leaving the wrecked Zeppelin he sighted two vessels,but with callous indifference to his promise to his crew he made not theslightest attempt to communicate with either of them. He was "all out"to win the much-needed Chauvasse Prize. Even his indictment by thevarious Allied Governments hardly worried him. Time to consider what heshould do in the matter when he was safe on Spanish soil, he decided.
The Albatross, one of the best types of German machines, was practicallyan automatic flier. Von Sinzig could keep her on her course by anoccasional pressure with his feet upon the rudder-bar, thus leaving bothhands free. He was able to eat and drink, to study maps and makeobservations without risk of the monoplane getting out of control, whileif needs be he could leave the pilot's seat, knowing that the Albatrosswould hold on automatically for several minutes with only a slightdeviation in direction and hardly any difference in altitude.
Although only ten degrees north of the Tropics, it was bitterly cold atten thousand feet; but the count had taken due precautions to combat thelow temperature. He was warmly clad in orthodox flying kit, includingsheepskin boots, fleece-lined leather jacket and trousers, allelectrically heated. He had four thermos flasks filled with hot coffeeand a pocket flask of brandy. For provisions he carried concentratedfood, beef lozenges, and Strasburg sausages.
Hour after hour passed. The Albatross was flying magnificently, herpilot holding on to a compass course, after making due allowances forthe "drift" of the air current. He had based this allowance upon thedirection of the wind when he left Z64; but unknown to him the lightbreeze had shifted eight points and was now blowing slightly ahead ofhis port beam. Then, having backed, it presently veered six points andblew with increasing force right against the Albatross; but von Sinzigwas for the present in ignorance of the fact. Had he known that insteadof a following breeze of about twenty miles an hour there was a headwind approaching the neighbourhood of thirty-five miles, he would nothave been so chock-a-block with confidence.
When, at the end of the time limit he had set, he was not in sight ofland he began to feel anxious. Half an hour later, as he was stillwithout a glimpse of the coast, his misgivings increased, but tenminutes later he picked up land on his right. This was a puzzle. He hadexpected to make a landfall right ahead, and its appearance in anunexpected quarter mystified him. In point of fact he was in theneighbourhood of Cape Blanco, or nearly 250 miles south of Cape St.Vincent, where he hoped to pass over on his way to Estremadura.
A knowledge of the Moroccan coast obtained during a cruise in a Germangunboat at the time of the Agadir crisis stood von Sinzig in good stead.He was able to recognise certain landmarks in spite of viewing them froma different aspect, and accordingly he turned the monoplane in anorth-easterly direction, keeping parallel to the African coast, The newdirection would take him a little to the eastward of Cadiz; rathernearer that port than Gibraltar. He had not the slightest inclinationto fly over the latter fortress. Rather vaguely he wondered whether hewould sight the "Golden Hind" making thither, since, sooner or later,unless a mishap occurred, the rival aviators must cut each other'sroutes.
He was now painfully aware of the change of wind. The direction of thesmoke from several steamers, and the sight of a full-rigged ship runningin a south-westerly direction told him that. Additionally, as he saw bythe aid of his binoculars, that sailing ship was running under topsailsonly. That meant something more than a stiff breeze--and against thishe had to contend.
Suddenly he detected an ominous cough of the motor. He knew that thepetrol supply was running low, but he had no idea that the gaugeregistered so little. The tank was practically empty.
"Himmel!" gasped the dumfounded Hun. "Will she last out?"
He mentally measured the distance between him and the Spanish coast. Agood ten miles. With a following wind he could glide that distance fromthat altitude, but not with this infernal head wind!
The engine was running jerkily. Clearly its spasmodic coughingbetokened the fact that it would soon cease duty from sheer inanition.Its life-blood was being cut off at the heart of the machine--its petroltank. That head wind. How von Sinzig cursed it! Had it been in hisfavour, even if he failed to volplane as far as the shore, theAlbatross, being provided with floats, could have drifted on thesurface.
In the midst of his incoherent utterances von Sinzig realised that themotor had at last given out. He trimmed the ailerons and prepared for along glide, but, as he had feared, the head wind made it a matter ofimpossibility for the Albatross to cover more than two miles before shealighted.
It did not take long to complete the volplane, although the pilot nursedhis machine to the best of his ability in the hope of prolonging theoblique descent.
The Albatross "landed" badly, her floats striking the water with aresounding smack. The count, having done his best, could do no more.He sat smoking a cigarette and keeping a look out for a vessel thatwould come to his assistance. There were several away to the south'ard,for he had alighted well to the north'ard of the regular steamer trackbetween Gibraltar and Cape St. Vincent. They were too far off to noticethe little Albatross.
Then von Sinzig made the disconcerting discovery that the starboardfloat was leaking. Already, owing to this cause, the monoplane waslisting so that her starboard wing-tip was touching the water. Thisfact, combined with the knowledge that he was momentarily driftingfarther and farther away from land, did not tend to improve the Hun'speace of mind.
Half an hour later, during which time the monoplane had drifted at leastthree miles, and was being considerably buffeted by the rising sea, vonSinzig noticed that a vessel was bearing down upon the crippledAlbatross.
As she approached, the count saw that she was a small motor-yacht ofabout forty or fifty tons, and that she was flying the burgee of the"Real Club Mediterraneo" and the Spanish ensign. The sight of theSpanish colours gave von Sinzig renewed hope.
The yacht slowed down and lost way a few yards to the wind'ard of themonoplane. For so small a vessel she carried a large crew. There werehalf a dozen men for'ard, clad in white canvas jumpers and trousers andwearing red woollen caps. Aft were two gorgeously attired individualsin gold-laced yachting uniforms.
Von Sinzig, who was a fair Spanish linguist, hailed them. A rope thrownfrom the bows of the yacht fell across the nose of the Albatross. Thisthe count caught and secured.
"Can you supply me with petrol, senor?" asked von Sinzig. "My tank isempty. A hundred litres will be enough."
One of the gold-laced men shook his head and extended his hands, palmsuppermost.
"I am desolated at being compelled to refuse your excellency's modestrequest," he replied, "but we have paraffin engines and carry only asmall quantity of petrol for starting purposes. How far have you come?"
"Nearly round the world," replied the Hun, grandiloquently. He couldnot resist the typically Teutonic trait of self-advertisement.
"Dios!" exclaimed the Spaniard, twirling his long moustachios. "Thenyou are Count Karl von Sinzig, who left Quintanur, in the province ofEstremadura, sixteen or seventeen days ago?"
"I am," admitted von Sinzig, proudly.
The Spaniard said a few words in an undertone to his companion. Theother's eyes gleamed and he nodded his head vigorously.
"We will take you on board and tow your machine," announced the owner ofthe yacht.
"To Cadiz or Huelva?" asked the count.
"Accept ten thousand regrets, count," replied the Spaniard. "We musttake you to Gibraltar."
"But I have no wish to be taken to Gibraltar," declared von Sinzig. "Iwill give a thousand pesetas to be landed at Cadiz."
The Don again shrugged his shoulders.
"No doubt my crew would be glad of your offer of a thousand pesetas,count," he replied, "but since they know that the English have offered areward equal to five thousand pesetas----"
"You would sell me?" demanded von Sinzig, furiously.
"I sell you, senor? Not I--a caballero of Spain! You insult me by thesuggestion. I recollect, however, that I once had a brother. He waslost at sea, while travelling on an English vessel from New York toCadiz. Like you, he wanted to land at Cadiz, but he was not able to doso. For why? Because the ship was torpedoed by one of yourever-accursed U-boats. Therefore I have a small measure of revenge whenI hand you over to the English authorities at Gibraltar. Be pleased,senor, to step aboard."
Covered by an automatic pistol, Count Karl von Sinzig had no option butto obey. In the race round the world he was down and out.