The Dreadnought of the Air Page 12

  CHAPTER XII.

  THE "METEOR'S" DEBUT.

  SETCHELL and Dr. Hambrough arrived before Whittinghame and hiscompanion had completed their preparations for dinner, and as soon asthe formal introductions were gone through, the thin ice of reservequickly vanished.

  Dacres instinctively felt that he would have true comrades on hisfirst commission in the Dreadnought of the Air.

  The two new arrivals were quite different in temperament. Setchellwas vivacious--even boisterous at times; while the doctor was graveand dignified--at first one might have thought he was taciturn.

  They were both fairly young men--under thirty--and as keen on theirwork as Whittinghame could possibly desire.

  "We're now practically ready to put the 'Meteor' into fullcommission," observed Whittinghame. "All her stores are on board.Dacres has to have his kit brought from London, and there is aboutanother half-day's work to complete the charging of the reservecylinders. So we'll have 'divisions' to-morrow, and put the men intotheir proper watches. You brought those rifles along with you allright, Setchell?"

  "Rather. There are two cases of them at Holmsley Station, and fourboxes of ammunition. With the eight thousand rounds we alreadyhave--I suppose you haven't expended any yet, sir--that ought to beample."

  "Very good," assented the skipper. "We'll send a trolley for themearly to-morrow morning. By the by, how did you get on after wedropped you at Yealmpton?"

  Setchell laughed.

  "You might have been more discriminating, sir, but I suppose we mustmake allowances for the fact that it was pitch-dark and we could showno light. As a matter of fact I found myself in a piggery. When Imanaged to struggle out of that and over a very aggressive fence Istruck a fowl-run. Did you hear the noise those creatures made?"

  "No, we were too far off by that time," replied Whittinghame.

  "At any rate," continued the third officer, "the farmer turned outwith a gun. I had to pitch up some sort of yarn, so I told him I wasa tourist who had lost his way. The old chap promptly harnessed apony and drove me to the outskirts of Plymouth."

  "Talking of that," remarked Dacres, "the shepherd of Canterbury saidthe section of the airship that dropped to the ground was about thesize of a haystack."

  "So it was," replied Whittinghame. "When we wish to make hurrieddescents we can detach a subdivision of No. 3 section. It is alsohandy for landing in fairly confined spaces, where the length of acomplete section might be too great for safety. I'll show you thatarrangement to-morrow; but what do you say to a game of billiards,gentlemen? It may be our last opportunity for a considerable time,for, with all her wonderful mechanism, I cannot guarantee a level bedon board the 'Meteor.'"

  This proposal was received with acclamation, and the four menadjourned to the billiard-room, where they amused themselves till theclock struck eleven and warned them that it was time to retire torest.

  At ten on the following morning all hands formed up on the open spacebetween the sheds. There were thirty-two men, exclusive of the fourofficers, and a fine athletic set they made, rigged out in neat yetserviceable uniforms.

  Whittinghame, as captain, headed the starboard watch, with the doctoras his assistant for executive duties in the after-part of the ship;for Hambrough was not content to act simply as surgeon to the ship'scompany. Williamson was chosen as first quartermaster of the watch,the rest of the division consisting of ten "deck hands" and fivemechanics for engine-room duties.

  Dacres had charge of the port watch, Setchell being responsible forthe after-guard during the "watch on deck". The stalwart Irishman,Callaghan, was appointed quartermaster, and the rest of the crewconsisted of an equal number of hands to that of the captain's watch.

  The men were then served out with small-arms, the rifles beingup-to-date automatic weapons firing twenty-two cartridges and havinga range and velocity equal to the latest service rifles. Bayonetswere also issued, and since the crew had had a thorough trainingwhilst they were serving in the Royal Navy they were now able to pickup their drill without much difficulty.

  Under Dacres' orders they were exercised for nearly an hour. Theex-sub-lieutenant had reason to be very well satisfied with them, andexpressed his opinion to Whittinghame that if necessary they couldgive a very good account of themselves. As for the men, theyrecognized that they had an officer over them who knew his work, andthey respected him accordingly.

  At length the eventful Saturday came round, and just after eighto'clock the fore-section of the airship was taken out of its shedand, to use Dacres' expression, "sent aloft."

  The bow portion, with its complement of nine men, was the first toleave the ground, anchoring at a height of seventy-four feet from thesurface--the "ground-tackle" consisting of a bridle with a singleloop running through a huge pulley fixed in the earth, and back tothe bow division of the "Meteor."

  No. 2 section was sent up, and by means of a wire hawser hauled intoposition, so that the cam-action could come into play. Only three anda half minutes elapsed between the time of its leaving the ground andof its being united to the bow-section.

  Divisions 3 and 4 were "launched" and joined up in a similar fashion,"and then there was one," as the nursery rhyme goes.

  Dacres found himself with six men to man the aftermost section of theairship. He had already "got the hang of it," although he could notquite see how any of the crew could be left behind to guide the hugefabric on its ascent to unite to the still greater bulk that floatedserenely above the tree-tops, her propellers churning slowly ahead tocounteract the faint breeze that blew from the south-west.

  "Give the word for the men to get aboard, sir," said Callaghan, who,being an ex-gunner's mate, knew how to prompt judiciously youngofficers who were not quite up to their work.

  Dacres complied. He was glad of his quarter-master's assistance,although fully determined to master his part of the routine as soonas possible.

  When the last man swarmed up the rope-ladder Dacres followed, andtook up his station at the open doorway in the for'ard bulkhead.

  "All ready, sir?" asked Callaghan.

  "All ready," echoed the newly appointed officer.

  "Here's the lever for charging the ballonettes, sir," continued thequartermaster. "Turn the indicator to eighty, sir. That will beenough to raise us."

  Gently and almost imperceptibly the after-section rose clear of theground, guided by a light wire rope joining it to the alreadycoupled-up portions of the airship. With a rhythmic purr thewindlass, worked by a supplementary belt from one of the motors,hauled in the slack till the "Meteor" was complete and ready forflight.

  So nice was the adjustment of the various sections that connexionwith the telephones and electric telegraphs was made automatically bythe contact of insulated bushes in corresponding position to theexterior bulkheads.

  From the navigation-room for'ard Whittinghame asked if all wereready, and received a confirmative reply from the after-end of theship. As far as Dacres was concerned he was now at liberty to "standeasy," for it was his watch below, and Setchell had come aft to takecharge.

  "Captain says he would like to see you for'ard," announced the thirdofficer. "Hold on till she gathers way, old man."

  Warning bells tinkled in various parts of the giant airship.Instantly every man grasped some object to prevent himself from beingthrown across the floor. Simultaneously the eight propellers began torevolve.

  For quite half a minute Dacres felt as if he were seized by aninvisible arm round his waist and was being forced backwards. Thenthe tension ceased as the inertia was overcome, he was part andparcel of a mass flying through the air at more than twice the speedof an express train.

  Dacres glanced at his watch--it was twenty-five minutes pastnine--then, lurching along the alley-way, for the "Meteor" wastrembling and swaying as she cleft the air, he made his way for'ard.

  He found Whittinghame standing in front of one of the observationscuttles in the lower navigation room. Williamson was at the wheelcontrolling the vertical rudders, while an
other man had his eye uponthe indicators of the horizontal planes.

  "Look!" exclaimed the captain, pointing downwards.

  Dacres did so. Nine thousand feet beneath him stretched a ribbon-likeexpanse of water like a silver-streak between dense woodland on onehand and green fields on the other. Away on the starboard bow thisstreak merged into a wide stretch of sea, backed by hills that weredwarfed to the size of a mere series of mounds.

  "By Jove! We're passing Southampton Water," ejaculated Dacres. Heagain glanced at his watch. It had taken him three and a half minutesto traverse the length of the "Meteor," and in that space of time theairship had travelled eleven miles.

  "Top speed now," announced Whittinghame. "We're doing one hundred andninety. We'll have to slacken down now; we're nearly there."

  As he spoke the Captain rang down for half speed. The order beingsimultaneously received by both engine-rooms, resulted in a gradualslowing down till the mud-flats of Portsmouth Harbour hove in sight.Even then the "Meteor" overhauled a naval seaplane as quickly as anexpress runs past a "suburban" crawling into Clapham Junction.

  "Still sou'west," remarked Whittinghame pointing to the smoke thatwas pouring out of a tall chimney between Fareham and Gosport. "We'llbring her head to wind in any case."

  Down swooped the "Meteor" till she was less than three hundred feetfrom the ground. She was now following the main road to Gosport. Onher left could be discerned the battleships and cruisers in theharbour, their decks and riggings black with men, while hundreds ofcraft of various sizes, crowded with spectators, literally swarmed onthe tidal waters between the Dockyard and the western shore.

  Swooping past the new semaphore tower, and skimming above the loftychimneys of the electric light station, the "Meteor" shaped a coursetowards the Town Hall clock tower. So quickly did she turn that itseemed as if a straight line between the bow and stern would cut themasonry of the tower. Looking aft the appearance of the twelvehundred feet of airship reminded Dacres of a train taking a curve.Her starboard planes were within twenty feet of the cupola of thetower.

  But the helmsman knew his business. He was well to leeward of theimprovised "pylon," and before the thousand of spectators gathered inthe Town Hall square could recover from their astonishment the"Meteor" was heading back to the dockyard.

  Slowly, with her propellers revolving enough to keep her up againstthe breeze, the Dreadnought of the Air hovered over the Governmentestablishment, seeking a place where she could come to rest. Theswarm of vessels in the harbour made it impossible for her to descendwithout great risk to the spectators.

  "There's the semaphore working," announced Dacres, pointing to thetwo arms that were set at the "preparatory" sign.

  In response to an order, one of the "Meteor's" crew, armed with twohand flags, made his way up to the platform of the promenade deck. Assoon as he replied, the semaphore began to spell out the message:--

  "Berth ready for airship in Fountain Lake," said Dacres, translatingthe signal for his chief's information. "That's on the north side ofthe Dockyard and between it and Whale Island."

  "Easy ahead," ordered Whittinghame; then, "Stop her."

  A series of hisses, similar to the sounds that Dacres had heard whenhe first beheld the "Meteor," announced that the contents of severalof the ballonettes were being pumped out and forced into the metalcylinders. Slowly and on an even keel the giant bulk sank lower andlower till a gentle roll announced that the airship was riding headto wind upon the sheltered waters of Portsmouth Harbour. The "Meteor"had made her debut.