"And here's where the fun begins," said the watching Sergeant. "I'm as keen as possible to see what he's got in that box, and what he'll do with 'em. Ah! Two nicely rolled parcels, Mr. Carl, fresh and clean from the hands that wrapped 'em in Old England. Valuables, to be sure! Priceless; deserved a safe if only this ship would have carried one."
There was a grim smile on his lips as he closely watched the movements of the scoundrel bending over the box. For here indeed was a conspirator. If there had been any doubt, the man's own movements would have betrayed his uneasiness, his guilty thoughts, for Carl was decidedly uneasy. Never a man of courage, rather the reverse, as he had abundantly proved, the doing of this miserable and wicked deed he contemplated shook him severely. Though he imagined he had braced up his shaky nerves for the adventure, and though he encouraged himself by the thought that there was no personal danger in the matter, no fear of discovery, and no difficulty in getting clear away, yet he was frightened, frightened of his own image. It caused the Sergeant to smile, indeed, when Carl, suddenly catching sight of his own reflection in the mirror opposite him, blanched and gripped the table.
"Gave me quite a turn," he gasped, his strong accent more noticeable than ever. "Himmel!But this deed requires more force than I had imagined. But there is no danger. Can be none while I have my ticket for the train and boat in my pocket. As for the bombs, they cannot explode till the clockwork is wound. Then I merely set the hands to the hour at which I desire the explosion, and—leave."
"Very simple," smiled the Sergeant. "And I wonder where he'll put his bombs and how this ship's going to suffer. Of all the rascals I ever set eyes on, it's him. Sportsman! Tish!"
He had seen enough, and went off to the saloon to lay his table and make ready for dinner. There was a thoughtful look upon his face, an expectant smile which boded little goodwill for Mr. Reitberg. As for Dick and Alec, they were nonplussed by the disappearance of the one they had determined to watch. He had gone to ground in his cabin and was resting there.
"Having a sleep, sir," the Sergeant told them naïvely. "Finds it precious hot. Don't fancy he'll turn up for dinner."
"Then I'm going straight to Joe and Mr. Andrew," Dick whispered to Alec. "We've found out that this sportsman's going to hook it. Then what's he up to?"
"Something, perhaps; nothing, perhaps. Let's hang on a bit and watch when the others are at dinner. Carl can't slip out of his cabin by the window, now can he?"
Dick admitted the fact briskly.
"Then he has to come by way of the gallery. Good! We watch at either end. We nab him if he tries hanky-panky."
"And if he don't. Supposing he just clears off for the station?"
The question was somewhat of a facer, for how could Dick and Alec then interfere? Carl had as much right to leave the ship as they had. Then, supposing he went by the ordinary route, through the gallery and so into the open, who could arrest him? It would be an outrage, a breach of good manners; worse, in fact.
"Oh, let's leave that question to later," said Dick airily. "He ain't going by the window, that's certain. Then we watch at each end of the gallery, and if he gets up to monkey tricks, why, we bowl him over."
Little did the magnate imagine that three at least of his fellow passengers were waiting for his appearance. Not that the worthy Sergeant showed much concern. Now and again, on his numerous visits to the pantry, he slid that panel aside and squinted into the cabin. But he went on with his duties, prepared the table, set the chairs, and finally rang the gong briskly. As he did so the clock in the saloon chimed eight. It was precisely half an hour after Mr. Andrew's usual hour for dinner, and with soldier-like exactness the Sergeant announced the meal at the very moment for which it had been ordered. He escorted Joe and his uncle, the Commander and theMajor, to their places, announced that Mr. Reitberg wished to be excused, and murmured in Joe's ear the fact that Dick and Alec had returned to the ship and had then departed again.
"Then we won't wait," said Andrew brusquely. "Let us go on with the meal."
"Certainly, sir," replied the Sergeant.
At once he served the soup, with the help of an assistant. Then he took his stand behind Andrew, waiting and watching the diners as becomes a well-trained attendant. But had he forgotten the rascal in that adjacent cabin? Had he allowed the matter to escape his mind? It would seem so, indeed, though there was no excuse, for but a matter of ten minutes earlier he had watched the crafty Carl set the hands of his two clocks to eight-fifteen and wind the springs. Why, he must be mad, crazy, for at that very moment Carl Reitberg was preparing to emerge from his cabin. But Sergeant Evans went on with his waiting methodically. He removed the empty soup plates and the tureen, and having placed clean, hot plates before the diners handed the fish to each in turn. There was no hurry about his movements, no sign of anxiety about his face. He did not even bother to observe the clock. Instead, he offered sherry to each of the gentlemen present, put the decanter back upon the sideboard, and motioned to his assistant to hasten to the kitchen for the next course. It was ten minutes after the hour. In five minutes those bombs with which the dastardly Carl hoped to wreck the vessel would explode. In five short minutes——Hark!What was that? Joe turned slowly in his chair. Andrew glanced across at the Major.
"Dick and Alec larking again," observed the Commander dryly. "A little more shipboard discipline is what our Mr. Dicky Hamshaw requires. What a noise the brats are making."
There was indeed quite an uproar in the gallery outside. The voices of Hawkins, Hurst, and Larkin were heard in succession. And then the door of the saloon was burst unceremoniously open, figures appeared outside, and a moment later Carl Reitberg was thrust into the chamber, Hawkins and Larkin gripping his shoulders, while Dick and Alec followed immediately behind them.
"Caught him in the act, sir!" shouted Dick, excitedly, addressing Andrew. "Watched him place two bombs in position along the gallery. Here they are. At least we guess they're bombs, though they're wrapped in paper."
That saloon had never before witnessed such a curious gathering, nor such excitement if one describes the matter fully. Not that Joe and his fellow diners betrayed great concern. Their stern faces merely showed disgust, loathing for this Carl Reitberg, while the well-trained Sergeant looked on with polite indifference, showing just a trace of annoyance, as if he objected to the dinner being so unceremoniously disturbed. But there coolness ceased altogether. Dick and Alec were dishevelled, red-hot with excitement, trembling with the importance of their discovery. Hawkins's broad face showed a righteous anger which was on the point of boiling over, while Private Larkin's fierce face gave one the idea that he was within an ace of exploding. In the centre, pinioned by the arms, pale and wabbling, was the magnate, speechless with fright, his pig-like eyes rolling with terror.
THE COLLAPSE OF CARL REITBERGPage276
It was one of those unexpected situations when one would have felt surprise if the dinner were not abandoned, the crew of the ship aroused, and a huge commotion set going. But Andrew Provost had already given abundant proof of his coolness. Joe, too, was not so easily frightened, while a calm demeanour on the part of the Commander and the Major was to be expected. But no one would quite have anticipated the line of action which Andrew adopted.
"And so you have discovered this Mr. Reitberg, our guest aboard, in the midst of an attempt to wreck the vessel!" he said softly. "Well, well, you may be mistaken."
"Impossible, sir," cried Alec. "We watched him first. He's a ruffian."
"But—but still there may be some little error," Andrew asserted. "We will give our guest the benefit of the doubt for the moment and investigate the matter. Place a chair there for him, Sergeant."
"But—but these beastly things are set to go off in four minutes," shouted Dick suddenly. "Look, sir. I've stripped the paper from the bombs. There's a clock attached to the outside of each. It's ticking, and the hands are set at eight-fifteen. They'll explode then and blow the place to pieces."
"Four minutes, you said. I make it but three," Joe exclaimed of a sudden, taking the bombs. "That's too bad. Dick, you must give it up as hopeless. You couldn't possibly get these bombs away to a safe distance in that short space of time. Eh, Major?"
"Hopeless. Let 'em cut and run, Dick and Alec and the others. I'm too old to make the attempt. Put the bombs on the table."
Was everyone mad? Had these diners gone completely crazy? Dick looked round in bewilderment, and went scarlet with anger. For the Major was actually sipping his sherry, while Joe was thrusting a morsel of fish into his mouth. As for the Sergeant, he placed a chair for the magnate between Joe and Andrew, plumped that perspiring and shaking individual into it, and having taken the two bombs from Dick put them on the table within a foot of Carl Reitberg. We make no excuse for Hawkins and his friend. They turned at Andrew's nod and bolted.
"Not for me, thanks," said Dick desperately. "Sherry, please, Sergeant."
"Ditto," gasped Alec, seating himself.
"In fact, we swim or sink together. Or shall we say, we stand shoulder to shoulder awaiting the last great flight of this giant vessel?"
There was a quizzing tone in the Major's voice, and he was actually winking. Winking! And so was the Sergeant.
"Sherry, sir. Yes, sir," he observed, in his ordinary, matter-of-fact tones, placing a glass before our two young heroes. "And don't you expectnothing," he whispered. "Them things is O.K. You'll yet eat a dinner."
Meanwhile things were hardly going comfortably for Mr. Reitberg. The rascal sat far back in his chair, tilting it backward, his two hands gripping the table, and his bulging eyes fixed on the hands of the two clocks attached to his infernal machines. He was livid with fear. A cold, clammy perspiration covered his forehead. His fat cheeks shook and wobbled in an ugly manner, and what little hair he had positively bristled. His breath came in choking grunts, wheezing from his lungs, while his lips were dry and parted.
"One minute more; only one minute," he gasped at last, staring at the clock faces. "Only one minute."
"Pardon—rather more. Perhaps two or three seconds," observed the Major icily. "Then, Mr. Reitberg——"
"Take me away. Let me leave the place. Throw those bombs out of the window—I say, throw them away. They'll explode; they'll kill me. They'll tear me to pieces."
The wretch foamed at the mouth, his attention concentrated all the while on those two clock faces. His eyes were bloodshot now, his nails digging like talons into the table.
"Then they are really bombs? You actually meant to wreck the vessel?" asked Andrew.
But the rascal cowering in a frenzy of terror at the table hardly seemed to hear his words, much less toheed them. He was bending lower now, ducking his head, and yet looking upward from beneath his brows at the hands on those two dials. They were near the quarter. In ten seconds they would reach the point at which he had set the trigger. And then——
"Take me away!" he screamed, foaming at the mouth, and looking hideous in his terror. "Kill me now. Shoot me. Don't let me be blown to pieces by these bombs. Ah! I will kill myself."
He made a desperate effort to seize a knife from the table, and no doubt would have done himself some severe injury. But the Commander seized his arm.
"No," he said sternly. "This is your trial, a trial of your own making. Learn now what it is to set bombs to slaughter other people. Endure to the full the torment that others were to suffer."
The strain was too great for the magnate. A gurgling cry escaped him, and a moment later he was stretched full length on the carpet.
"Call in the others," commanded Joe curtly. "Let us go on with our dinner. And by the way, Sergeant, tell Mr. Dick and his friend that there's no danger."
"No danger!" shouted the midshipman. "None! Why, I've been hanging on to my chair hard expecting to be blown to pieces."
"Like Mr. Reitberg, only different," smiled Andrew. "Lads, you've shown splendid pluck. Now, let's eat. As for the bombs, they happen to be empty."
It required quite an amount of explanation and apology to mollify the hot-headed and indignant Dicky Hamshaw and his friend Alec when they learned how all their energy, all their suspense and anxiety for the great airship and the safety of their friends had been unnecessary and thrown away.
"And—and you mean to tell us that the bombs are empty?" demanded the former, with some curtness, as soon as the fainting form of the rascal, Carl Reitberg, had been borne to his cabin. "I—this is no laughing matter."
"Precisely," answered the Major, with a little smile. "And, Dick, I'm not surprised at your anger. You see, we knew that those bombs had been rendered harmless."
"Then, sir, why not tell Alec and myself?"
The midshipman was almost boiling. But still, he had never been anything else but a good officer, and discipline was discipline. "Beg pardon, sir," he said. "But it makes a chap rather ratty. Here have I been hanging on to this chair, trying to keep cool and look it, when every instant I expected to beblown to atoms. I thought you must all be mad to go on so coolly with your dinners."
"While I'm in a horrible perspiration," confessed Alec, mopping his brow. Then he seemed to see some fun in the matter, and grinned at his comrade.
"All the same it was a good lesson for Mr. Reitberg," he cried. "Odious toad that he is. He didn't know that the bombs were empty, now, did he? He didn't look like it. That's why he funked. That's why he went under."
Mr. Andrew rose from his chair, and took each of the lads in turn by the hand.
"We owe you many apologies," he said earnestly. "I can't forgive myself for what has happened. But there are excuses. I did not know, Joe was kept in ignorance, even the Major and the Commander knew nothing of this matter till the very beginning of dinner. Then Sergeant Evans told us. We owe our safety to him, to his watchfulness—though I know you also have watched—to his cleverness, and to the experience he had in South Africa. There! I am sorry. But it was fine to see the manner in which you two behaved."
"Magnificent!" declared the Major.
"I shall report it," cried the Commander, gripping Dick's hand. "A fine example of the spirit which all naval men should show. Alec, shake hands."
"Now, tell us the whole tale, Sergeant Evans," demanded Joe, while Dick and Alec, now completely mollified, took their places at the table. Indeed, dinner proceeded much as usual, but for the fact thatthe Sergeant, while attending upon the diners, told them his tale crisply and shortly.
"I knew him, this Mr. Carl Reitberg," he began in the politest tones. In fact, you would not have imagined that he had any other but the highest opinion of the individual to whom he referred. Certainly his tones showed no trace of satire, of disgust, or even of anger.
"His name was different out in the Transvaal," he proceeded. "He was a suspected person, and as such came under the notice of the police, that is, the civil police. He was supposed to be an I.D.B., otherwise an illicit diamond buyer. But he was more. We military police suspected him of dealings with the Boers. We watched him, and he escaped, and left the country. It was natural, then, that I should suspect him when I found him here under another name. I watched him, gentlemen, watched him through a peephole cut in the wall of his cabin, which is next the pantry. He had a box with him, a suspicious box, filled with valuables as he said. I investigated the contents of that box."
"But, pardon for the interruption, Sergeant. That box was sealed," remarked Mr. Andrew, with a lift of his white eyebrows.
"Yes, sir—sealed. Red sealing wax, impressed with a seal hanging to the man's watch chain. I borrowed that seal one day. I opened the box, investigated the contents, removed the explosives, leaving everything else as it was, sealed the box again and returned it to its old position. No onewas the wiser. Even Mr. Reitberg was unsuspicious when he opened the box this evening. He imagined he still had dangerous bombs, whereas I knew that they had already served their purpose."
"Served their purpose? How?" demanded Joe quickly.
"You remember the Pathans, sir? Well, Mr. Reitberg's bombs stopped their rush, and came in very handy."
The tale proved, if it had proved nothing else, that in Sergeant Evans the airship possessed a trusty and astute man. But it also proved to the hilt the rascality of Carl Reitberg.
"Of course," said Mr. Andrew, when the warm thanks of the gathering had been given to the Sergeant, "of course, we take no action. The ruffian is not worth powder and shot; his meanness will bring about its own punishment. When he recovers we will let him go, thankful that we are well quit of him."
It followed that late that night, he having then recovered consciousness, a gharri conveyed the disconsolate Carl to the railway station, where he took train for Bombay. But it must not be imagined that the man took with him any feelings of gratitude to those who had so handsomely dealt with him. No. They had made a fool of him. He realized now that the bombs before which he had been forced to sit, and which he had expected to shatter him to fragments in a few seconds, he realized that they had been rendered harmless. All his fears and terrors, all his squirming,the terrible exhibition he had made of himself were to no purpose. He had been fooled. The very people he had imagined to be so stupidly wanting in astuteness, who had failed to suspect him, had defeated his dastardly attempt with surprising ease. It made the magnate boil with rage and mortification. He fanned his heated brow as the train sped onward, set his crooked teeth and swore beneath his breath.
"Ah!" he grunted. "Made a fool of me. Know now that I am not the sportsman they imagined. Fancy themselves safe, and are sure of winning that wager. We'll see. There is still time. There is still Adolf Fruhmann."
Yes, there was still that unmitigated rascal, ready to attempt anything if sufficiently well paid. He was the man to come now to Carl's rescue. He was the one who must now attempt the wrecking of the airship. But how?
"I'll wire to him to meet me at Suez," Carl decided before he reached Bombay. "He'll be able to propose a scheme. Yes, there's time still. If I have failed, Adolf will manage to succeed. We'll show the folks aboard the airship who's best man in this matter."
Burning with anger at his defeat, and his vindictiveness increased almost in proportion to the distance he was steadily placing between himself and the great airship, Carl Reitberg boarded the steamer at Bombay in no enviable frame of mind. Indeed, what with the heat and his own stoutness he narrowly escaped an attack of apoplexy, and lay for some days in hiscabin, his head swathed in bandages wrung out of iced water, a huge wind shute pouring the little fresh air there was into the compartment, while an electric fan shot eddies at his perspiring person. Indeed, to the average individual it was an uncomfortable season during which to visit the neighbourhood of Bombay. To Carl Reitberg, the pompous, fat, and rascally magnate swelling with indignation, hate, and all uncharitableness, it was a positive nightmare.
In this uncomfortable condition, then, we can leave him to his own devices, with the knowledge that, though he had failed once in his dastardly effort to wreck Joe Gresson's invention, he had by no means given up all hope of achieving success. For Joe and his friends, we can say that they gave scarcely another thought to their late guest, who had abused their kindness so disgracefully.
"It's a black page in the history of our trip," said Andrew, the morning following. "We will turn it over and seal it down. Ugly things are better as a rule when shut out of view. And now, Mr. Skipper?"
"Now, Joe?" cried the Commander. "We await orders. Do we remain here cooking in the neighbourhood of Delhi? Or do we seek a more balmy clime, where a man may sleep peacefully in his cabin, and must not necessarily spend the baking night restlessly pacing the open deck above dressed only in his pyjamas?"
"Yes—what next?" demanded Dick, his mouth still busy with the breakfast he was devouring. But what recked Dicky of heat? Mr. Midshipman Hamshawcarried an appetite wherever he went, and his breakfast this morning showed that heat hardly affected him. He was not even limp, whereas the Major, hardened soldier that he was, and accustomed to India, was as flabby as a wet rag.
"Which comes of modern invention," he laughed. "Send me to India in the cold weather, and leave me in the plains when the heat comes. I'll not turn a hair, for I've had time to become acclimatized. But set out from London as we have done on this new-fangled machine—apologies, Joe and Mr. Andrew—set out, I say, on this airship and plunge me suddenly from the heights, where one needs a fur coat, to the plains about Delhi in the hot weather, and I admit I become a limp, nerveless individual."
"While I for another shall be glad to move on," Joe admitted. "Well, now; we take in stores here—they are coming aboard already—then, following the plan agreed upon, we sail along over the all-red route. Naturally, this trip is not a true tour of the world, for then we should take a straight line, the shortest route possible. We are purposely lengthening our journey, and should we successfully complete it, we shall have flown many more miles than the twenty-five odd thousand which circumvent the globe. So our course lies east, parallel almost to the Himalaya mountains."
"Ah! A test of elevation, perhaps," suggested the Commander. "You could cross the Himalayas."
"Why not?"
"At their highest point?"
"I have reason to believe so," said Joe, with thequiet assurance of the inventor who has the utmost faith in the powers of the machine he has constructed. "Why not?"
"Because—well, because Mount Everest happens to be the highest peak," replied the Commander dryly. "Let's see; what is its exact altitude? Here, Dick, one of you youngsters, let us have the figure."
"Sorry, sir; can't. Forgotten—so long since I left school," answered the imperturbable Dick. "Ask Alec, he's the latest kid to leave."
He accompanied his remarks with a grin in his friend's direction, which became the broader as Alec shook his fist at him.
"Well, Alec? Dick's a dunce; he's like most middies," said the Commander.
And for a wonder Alec was able to supply the information.
"Twenty-nine thousand and two feet high, sir," he told them. "Highest mountain in the world. Cold as Christmas up at the top. Haven't been there myself, you know, but I'm guessing."
"In fact, rather more uncomfortable there than down here," laughed the Major. "Well, Joe, it's a stumper?"
"I cannot say. To cross above the highest peak we must ascend some five miles. That is a tremendous height; it will need special preparation."
But one could see that Joe was bitten with the idea of accomplishing that which no other person or machine had ever achieved before. He went to theengine-room forthwith, and for the next two hours closely inspected the gasometer and carburettor which supplied his engines. Then he took the temperature of the crude paraffin which, unlike other internal-combustion motors, not only formed the explosive charge, and conveyed power through those long, sinuous, cold-drawn steel pipes to the distant hydraulic motors, but also surrounded the cylinders, acting as an effective cooling agent. If one had watched him one would have seen the thoughtful Joe working out some pleasant little calculations, calculations which would have given Dicky Hamshaw quite a headache. But the result seemed to satisfy him, for he once more inspected his engines, made a small adjustment, and then went off to the saloon.
"Gentlemen," he said solemnly, "we have loaded our stores. If all are ready we will make for Mount Everest and there test the powers of this vessel."
It was one of the many advantages of being aboard an airship. There was no packing to be done, no cabs to call, no trains to be entered. Joe had merely to return to the engine-room and start his motors, so that within ten minutes the ship was off, followed by the cheers and shrill native cries of thousands. For a while she hovered over the city of Delhi, mounting and mounting steadily, till she was but a speck in the sky, a speck almost invisible because of the material of which she was constructed. It was an object lesson to many thousands also. For where in all India, in all the world, was there a gun capable of reaching her, of destroying the airship, of preventingher crew, had they so wished, from dropping bombs upon the citizens of Delhi?
"In war, an invincible arm," declared the Major with conviction. "A terrible arm, indeed, for here is a ship as secure, as handy, as manageable as any steamer. Let us hope that the report we shall take to War Office and Admiralty will not fall upon deaf ears. Or rather, let us pray that the authorities will test the truth of our statements by sending men aboard who are really qualified to form an opinion. Not amateurs, more or less filled with a sense of their own importance, and forgetful of that of others."
To those stepping the upper deck of the airship the view beneath was one of the greatest magnificence, for the brilliance of the sun brought objects beneath into unusual prominence. Then, too, owing to the elevation at which the vessel now floated, the heat of the day was no longer felt.
"Just like an English summer," Andrew murmured. "And the height, Joe?"
"Seven thousand feet or thereabouts; not a quarter the height to which we shall have to climb before crossing Mount Everest. For the moment I am satisfied. Now we will descend a little, for it will be cold when we begin to travel through the air. To-morrow, at about this hour, we shall have failed miserably or have added another honour to those already won by this ship. Don't think me boastful. I speak of things as they are, precisely as you have found them. I ask for nothing better than honest tests. Here is one. I shall strive to win in this encounter."
"But one moment," said the Major. "Excuse my ignorance. Mount Everest is twenty-nine thousand and two feet in height. Let us say that we must ascend to the enormous height of thirty thousand feet. Will that, then, prove a record? Is there a person who has before this date attained to such an altitude?"
"Certainly," came the prompt answer. "In the past many balloons have climbed to great heights, and I can instance a few such attempts. Coxwell is said to have reached the enormous altitude of seven miles in the year 1862. He lost the use of his hands, but contrived to open the valve with the aid of his teeth. His companion, Mr. James Glaisher, was then insensible. Then Dr. Berson and Dr. Suring ascended from Berlin in 1901 to the height of thirty-four thousand feet, contriving to maintain their senses by inhaling oxygen. And lastly, there is the recorded ascent of theAlbatross, which, in 1909, set out from Turin, and reached the stupendous height of thirty-eight thousand seven hundred and fifteen feet.
"And what is the record of dirigibles?" asked the Commander eagerly. "We must recollect that they are a different sort of craft, and do not ascend by heaving ballast overboard—that is, as a general rule. This ship, we know, is influenced by her vertical screws."
"And will contrive to climb with them almost unaided," answered Joe. "But it may be that we shall attempt a record, in which case there is ample ballast to be thrown overboard. As to the height to whichdirigibles have climbed, of that I am uncertain. But it is said that six thousand feet is the record for a Zeppelin, and we will allow that the Zeppelin is the last word in dirigibles."
"Was," Andrew corrected him quickly. "Was, Joe. The coming of this vessel annihilates the Zeppelin."
There was an air of suppressed excitement about the crew on the following afternoon, for the news of their coming attempt had leaked out. Moreover, the airship had driven her way steadily onward during the night, and all through the morning she had been steering a course parallel to the gaunt Himalayas, within easy distance of the snow glistening on the numerous peaks of this giant range, and within sight already of Mount Everest. The lofty peak raised its white head some fifty miles to their left, its snow slopes shimmering in the sun's rays. Its broad base also could be detected, merging imperceptibly with the mass of the range. But the centre portion was invisible, clad in a garment of white cloud, which seemed to warn all and sundry to leave that peak alone, and make no rash attempt upon it. But Joe Gresson was totally unaffected. He turned the ship's head directly for the mountain and waited at the tiller till those fifty miles were accomplished, till the airship was within a short mile of the mountain, looking a mere dot when compared with the mighty mass of rock thrusting upward.
"At this moment we begin our attempt," he told his friends. "Kindly observe our height. We areresting precisely seven thousand feet above sea-level. Now, I will start the elevating motors. When we are twenty-nine thousand feet up we will steer for the top of the peak. After that, if all are agreeable, we will ascend once more. I have a mind to accomplish a world's record. But we must take precautions. Let us don all the clothing we can find, and shut all windows and openings. Sergeant Evans has already taken out of store our cylinders of oxygen. You will find a mouthpiece attached to each one, and my advice is that you don them when we have reached a height of twenty thousand feet."
For a while there were bustling feet to be heard along the galleries of the airship. Men hastened to and fro carrying oxygen cylinders, while others made a round of the vessel to close all apertures. Then Joe set the aerial screws in motion, and, watching closely, Dick was able to detect the fact that the ship was rising swiftly. Indeed, before many minutes had passed they had plunged into the cold, white cloud surrounding the central part of the mountain. He strode off to the engine-room, to find Joe watching the barometer.
"Nineteen thousand feet," he read off. "Ah, we are mounting quickly! Twenty thousand feet. Now we throw our cooling fan out of gear, and make ready to cover over a portion of our radiator. In that way we shall be able to keep up the temperature of our motor and of its fuel supply. Now for the oxygen."
They were still mounting, mounting quickly too. Dick felt a queer sensation overcoming him. Hewas gasping, endeavouring to imbibe more air, eager for a greater supply of oxygen.
"Put on your mouthpiece and turn on the tap of the cylinder," Joe ordered. "You're grunting, positively grunting. And look at yourself in that mirror."
There was a tiny square which the engineer had secured to the side of the engine-room, and looking in it, Dick was positively startled to discover that his usually vivid and fresh complexion had gone. He was a pale, dirty-blue colour.
"Ugh! Hideous!" he grinned. "Now, let's try oxygen."
It had an almost immediate effect, as was to be expected, for within ten minutes he had regained his normal colour. Meanwhile, the cold had become extreme. Even there, in the heated engine-room, one felt it, while Joe anxiously placed his hand on the cylinder tops.
"Throwing the cooling fan out of gear will do it," he said, in tones of satisfaction. "I've still something in hand. Covering the radiator and so protecting it from cold will do the trick nicely."
"Twenty-seven thousand feet. Twenty-eight," he read out. "Are all feeling strong and well?"
They were gathered about the engine-room, some crowding in that chamber itself, some at the top of the ladder leading from it, grouped in the gallery of the airship. And a queer collection they were, muffled to the eyes, more than one already shivering with cold, for it must be recollected that this feat of clambering upward demanded no personal efforts fromcrew or passengers. Had they been on the snow-clad slopes of Mount Everest, amidst its glaciers and its crevasses, the path upward would have been one continual struggle, a struggle made all the more difficult by the increasing thinness of the air. Indeed this thinness of the air is one of the chief difficulties to be encountered by those who would ascend to huge heights above sea-level. Mountain sickness, the giddiness and nausea which attack people at great elevations, must also be overcome, though here, aboard the giant airship, not one of the members aboard felt so much as lightness of the head. It was the cold which troubled them. Why, Private Larkin's nose was positively blue! It peeped out from above a huge muffler which he had wound round his neck.
"I never!" Hurst remarked, grinning at him, and then taking another breath of oxygen. "You ain't handsome, not 'arf."
"'Ere," grunted Larkin, "none of yer lip! I'm 'avin'——"
But at that moment the need for more oxygen assailed him, and he buried his mouth in the apparatus affixed to each cylinder. Indeed, but for those cylinders this ascent would have been practically impossible. As it was, the ship climbed steadily, remorselessly upward. They were above the thick bank of wet cloud now. Of a sudden the cold became intense, while Dick found himself shielding his eyes from the glare. For the sun's rays were reflected from the virgin snow slopes with a brilliance he had never before experienced.
"Twenty-nine thousand feet. The summit of Mount Everest," called Joe, fingering the tops of his cylinders and the cooling surface of his radiator somewhat anxiously. "We will attempt a landing, and then we will ascend once more."
The big engine purred a little louder. Had an expert been there he would not have been able to detect a single alarming sound from the mechanism of the airship. For there was, in fact, little to go wrong.
"Freezing up does not trouble me," Joe had explained as they were ascending, "for my radiator is cooled by paraffin, and you may expose that liquid to extremes of cold with little effect. Even if there were danger of its freezing, the explosions of the engine cause heat, which is absorbed by the paraffin, and I have taken steps, by throwing out of gear the cooling fan, to retain that heat. As for the rest, the same fluid passing through those lines of steel tubes to the motors overhead is constantly in action. The pressure applied to it tends to add to its temperature, so that there again we can defy the cold."
The hum of the propeller told that the ship was in motion, for hitherto she had merely been ascending. Now the elevator screws were hardly rotating, while Dick and his friends could tell that they were advancing by the fact that the slopes of the mountain grew steadily nearer and nearer. The ship circled about the highest peak. She seemed to be looking for a landing-place. She even rested for a moment directly above the topmost pinnacle. And then Joe droppedher gently upon a smooth, level slope just beneath the summit.
"All explorers plant flags to show what they have done," he cried, laughing at those gathered about him. "We will do the same. Come, half a dozen of us will be sufficient."
They tore the door of the gallery open, for it was frozen fast, and struggled into the open, Joe and the Commander, with the Major, and Dick, and Alec, in close attendance. Bearing their oxygen cylinders strapped to their shoulders they trudged across the hard frozen snow, and within a few minutes had gained the summit. There they secured the staff of their Union Jack, pegged and roped it down, and promptly retraced their steps.
"And now for a record," cried Joe. "I advise all of you to don gloves if you have them and to keep moving about. I mean to rush the rest of the distance."
He covered more than half of his radiator, set the elevating motors buzzing, and then glanced anxiously at his barometer. They were rising, but very slowly. It seemed to take an endless age to get away from the peak they had just visited. The tiny Union Jack, looking forlorn amid the snow slopes, appeared as if it would keep them company for ever.
"Turn that lever there," Joe commanded, pointing to one close to Dick's hand, for the midshipman was again in the engine-room. "If the outlet of my tank is frozen we shall have to halt for a while and apply heat. Ah, that's fortunate! Listen."
Above the gentle hum of the engine Dick could hear a gurgling, splashing sound, and looking downward discovered that a spray of water was falling from the airship, a spray which was caught by the breeze, whirled to one side, and transformed instantly into thin flakes of ice which went swimming through space to find a resting-place on the slopes of the mountain.
"Throwing out ballast," Joe explained. "Now we're moving."
The ship was clambering upward at a rapid pace, thanks to the weight rapidly streaming from her tanks. Joe watched his barometer now with smiling eyes.
"Thirty thousand feet," he stated solemnly. "Thirty-five thousand feet, gentlemen. Almost a world's record. But five more feet and I shall be satisfied."
Had it not been for the mouthpieces which all were now compelled to keep constantly in use the crew would have cheered him. As it was they tramped the gallery, swinging their arms, beating their fingers, and muffling their faces in the first article of clothing upon which they could come. The cold was too intense for words, in spite of the heating arrangements aboard the ship. Indeed, but for active movement many of the crew would not have been able to bear it. And steadily, relentlessly, the ship ascended, while Dick, at Joe's bidding, emptied first one and then the remaining tanks aboard the vessel. It was with a shout of triumph that Joe announced that they had ascended to forty thousand feet.
"Kindly observe the barometer," he called. "Kindly bear evidence to the fact that we have gained this record."
Then began the descent. Joe arrested the elevating motors, and at once the ship began to fall. Not rapidly, as one might have expected, but slowly, imperceptibly, so smoothly that but for the barometer none would have known that she was moving. And now, as they reached the level of thirty thousand feet, and that tiny Union Jack came into view once more, but a stone's throw to their right, the mercury ceased to move. In spite of accelerating his motors Joe could no longer force the ship to descend.
"Dropped all the weight out of her," he said cheerfully. "Must now let gas escape. That's merely a question of operating the escape valves. See, they're all linked up to this lever."
He leaned over the engine, gripped a long handle and pulled upon it. It refused to move. It was firmly jammed, or rather, the linked mechanism beyond it was firmly frozen.
"Annoying," he exclaimed, though Dick could have sworn that an anxious expression crossed his face. "Try again."
He made several more attempts, but without success. Dick helped him without avail. Even the lusty Hawkins and Hurst together could produce no effect, while the screws now thrashing the thin air in an endeavour to force the ship downward made not the smallest difference to the height of the mercury. And meanwhile the cold was even more intense. Inspite of the oxygen cylinders men were gasping. Indeed, all of a sudden, when at the summit of their success the crew of the airship found themselves face to face with disaster. They had climbed to this great height. They could not descend. Death from cold and exhaustion threatened them. Yes, death. For already Larkin lay inert in the gallery, blue from intense cold, his mouthpiece strapped to his face. Mr. Andrew clutched at the doorpost, looking as if on the verge of unconsciousness, while both the Major and the Commander had the appearance of men more than half frozen. It looked indeed as if here, at this enormous altitude, within stone's throw of the summit of Mount Everest, the voyage of the huge airship would be ended, and with it the lives of all aboard.
A terrible five minutes followed the discovery that Joe Gresson had made, a period short enough as a general rule, but seeming almost unending under the tragic circumstances. For the great airship lay helpless in the air, turning slowly as if on a pivot, and dangling a thousand feet above that tiny Union Jack which marked the summit of Mount Everest. Then a breeze caught her and wafted her to one side, so that Dick, looking desperately from the window of the engine-room, could gaze down into India. But a swirling current from the opposite direction gripped her a moment later, swayed the ship which was rocking like a vessel at sea, drove her round and launched her northward, till the opposite slopes of the Himalayas came into view.
"Tibet—the road to Lhasa, the forbidden city," Dick told himself. "And that shining streak away over there must be the Brahmaputra. What's to be done? This is a nasty sort of hole in which to find ourselves. And I don't like the look of some of our friends. Larkin is as blue as blue, while Mr. Andrew don't appear much better. Where's Alec?"
That young gentleman was stretched full length at the foot of the ladder leading from the engine-room, and at once Dick stepped toward him and secured the mouthpiece of his oxygen apparatus to his face.
"Can't do more," he thought. "Wish I could. George! Joe don't seem too bright. He's as green as grass, and, 'pon my word, he's falling."
He was just in time to catch the leader of this attempt upon a world's record and snatch him from the engines. Catching him in his arms he sat him down with his back against the wall of the engine-room. Then, quite by the merest chance, he caught a glimpse of his own reflection in that same square piece of looking-glass.
"My hat! Dusky as a nigger! But never felt better in my life. Oxygen seems to agree with me, but not with my lovely complexion. Now, what the blazes is a fellow to do? This is a corker."
It was worse than that, for not only was the ship in danger of destruction, but without a doubt were her position at that altitude maintained, every soul aboard would be asphyxiated or frozen to death. Dick cast his eye at the barometer.
"Twenty-nine thousand feet. Dead level with the summit of the mountain," he reflected. "And ain't she rolling, just?"
That, too, was an obvious fact; for, relieved of the weight of the water which had filled her tanks, and which, like the engines, were disposed at the very lowest point possible, the ship now appearedto be a trifle top-heavy. In any case, she careened badly, swaying from side to side, till her decks presented steep slopes down which the figures of helpless members of her crew slithered. Yes, it was an ugly and distressing sight, for that loss of weight, and the fact that her elevating screws would not grip the air, had made the ship unstable in a fore-and-aft direction. To Dick's horror she began a new series of movements. The gust outside freshened of a sudden, just as gales do spring up at the height at which they floated, and at once the giant machine was swung round as if she were a top. Then she rolled heavily, till it was only by clutching at the rails about the motors that he escaped being thrown into them. Later she suddenly careened in the opposite direction, and hoisting her stern on high, projected her crew down the whole length of the gallery so that they were brought up against a distant bulkhead. Nor was that the last of her disconcerting gyrations. The breeze freshened again, till within a minute a whirlwind was singing and screaming outside. It caught the framework of the ship as if she were a leaf, and now that she was lying out of the horizontal, and Joe's curious design was therefore almost inoperable, it swung her to one side and sent her heading madly for the snow and rock-strewn summit of the mountain. Dick held his small remaining breath as the vessel bore down upon that rocky peak, and shivered as she missed it by a narrow margin.
"A miss is as good as a mile, sir," someone shoutedin his ear, as if the person were a mile away. But Dick was deaf. His ears were singing and roaring, and when he let go his hold of the engine rails he was dreadfully giddy. But, in spite of his deafness, he was able to note two other things. The engine had stopped completely, no doubt because of the position of the ship, the fuel supply having been entirely cut off. Then Hawkins was beside him, not the Hawkins of old, with a clean-shaven face tanned to mahogany by exposure, but a sailor whose skin was of leaden hue, whose eyes were sunken and had lost their sparkle, whose shoulders stooped as if he found it hard to keep upright In other respects it was the old Hawkins.
"Orders, sir!" he bawled, whipping his mouthpiece aside for the moment. "This here's a fine old mess!"
"Must get those gas valves open and the engines started again. Here," Dick gasped in answer. "Make this cylinder fast to my shoulders. It's too loose for my liking. There's a bit of rope yonder. That'll do it. Quick!"
He had no breath for more; but Hawkins seemed to see his meaning in an instant, and soon had the cylinder of oxygen more secure on Dick's back. Then, with a dexterity which even this critical situation could not mar, he secured his own cylinder in similar manner. Dick gripped a hammer. Hawkins took a huge spanner.
"Now," said our hero. "We must get to the upper deck. Then start in the centre, each goingin opposite directions. Force open every other valve. Even if you have to smash them to pieces you must contrive to open them. Come—no time to be lost."
His orders were given in short gasping spurts. But Hawkins understood and nodded. Then they clambered over the bodies of their comrades, won their way up the engine ladder, and raced as fast as they could along the gallery. Not that the pace was great, for each step seemed to be an effort. They gained the liftway, and stared upward.
"No motor working. Must climb," Dick managed to gasp. "Up we go."
He felt as if his heart would burst long before he gained the upper deck. That organ was indeed thudding heavily against his ribs, while the veins in his forehead, on his hands and face, were distended and purple. But there was pluck and determination to drive Mr. Dicky Hamshaw onward, while Hawkins was not the man to be beaten by an officer or to leave one in the lurch. And so, after a struggle which cost them dear, they won their way to the summit of that tiresome and never-ending ladder. A minute later, almost too fatigued to deliver a blow, they attacked the valves affixed to each of the many gas chambers, beginning with those at the centre.
"Frozen hard as rocks. Deck covered with frost and ice. The weight'll be an advantage. But how are we to get these valves open?"
It was difficult enough under that white covering to detect their presence, though, fortunately for all, both Dick and Hawkins had more than once examinedthe valves. Now they set to work with hammer and spanner, breaking away the coating of ice, and smashing the firm joint which the intense cold had formed round each seating. It was with a shrill, half-stifled cry of delight that Dick contrived to free the first of the valves.
"Wide open. Can smell the gas coming out," he told himself. "That'll fix her. A few more will do the trick. Wish to goodness she'd remain level."
Something shot past him at terrible speed, and brought up hard against the rail at the edge of the deck. It was Hawkins, pitched from his feet by a sudden lurch of the vessel, and saved from a dreadful dive into space by the rail against which he had cannoned. A second later his unconscious figure came hurtling back, and but for the grip Dick managed to fasten on him he would have shot over the side of the vessel in the opposite direction.
"Must go on alone, that's all," Dick told himself stubbornly. "Big job, but got to be done. I'll place Hawkins in the entrance to the liftway."
He dragged the unconscious figure after him, helped not a little by a sudden tilting of the vessel. Then, stowing him in a corner from which he hoped he would not be dislodged, he raced along the deck again, himself took a header as the deck sloped steeply, caught a stanchion to which one of the wireless supports was attached, and a moment later was beating frantically at a second valve. In ten busy minutes, in fact, he contrived to release no fewer than five, and had the satisfaction of smelling thegas which at once poured out of them. More than that, a glance at the summit of the mountain showed him that the ship had fallen already. She was resting just a trifle above that wet, cold blanket which enveloped the central part.
"And a chap feels less blown than before," thought Dick. "That's satisfactory. Now for the engines. Must get 'em going and way on the ship, for this gale is playing the dickens with her."
It was a way of expressing his meaning, and indeed, even now that he had accomplished his purpose so bravely, his work was likely enough to be defeated by outside influences. For the whirlwind had not abated, and three times while Dick worked had the ship been swept past the slopes of Mount Everest, at such speed that, had she struck, she would have crumpled up like a concertina. Now she was caught again, spun round like a top, sent twirling from the mountain, only to be driven back again till her bows actually collided with one of the slopes. But it was only a glancing blow, and the snow happened to be both soft and deep. Shivering, therefore, at the shock, she shook herself free, and shot off into the open.
As for Dick, he raced to the deck below, his respiration already decidedly easier. Stepping over the still unconscious figures of his comrades, he gained the engine-room and tackled the task of starting the engines.
"Must get way on her somehow," he told himself. "Let's see—engines stopped probably because of her pitching. You couldn't expect fuel to reach thecarburettor when she was standing on her head. Wait a bit, I'll cure all that if once I can get those elevating screws going. How's that? Joe always turns that tap to make sure his fuel's flowing. There's paraffin there right enough. Now, will she start?"
He switched on the current from the starting batteries, setting the electric starting motor in action, and then moved the clutch lever, which threw this motor into engagement with the flywheel of the engine. Nothing resulted. Not a cylinder fired. There was not so much as the suspicion of an explosion. One might have expected Dicky Hamshaw to be flabbergasted and beaten by such a happening, and as a matter of fact he leaned against the engine rail and gazed hopelessly at the apparatus before him. Then he had a brilliant inspiration. They didn't often come his way, we confess. He was far too harum-scarum for flights of fancy or for patient investigation. But in his heart of hearts Dicky was quite the mechanic. As we have intimated, he hoped one of these days to be selected for submarine service, or for the naval flying school. Therefore it happened that facts and peculiarities about the mechanism of this huge airship had not escaped his notice. Indeed, they had attracted his attention and positively fascinated him. It happened, consequently, that he was well acquainted with the carburation.
"Got it!" he cried. "It ain't a case of a simple carburettor. In this case the fuel enters the carburettor, and to start the engines if cold, or whenthey've been rested for long, one has to fill the gasometer with gas. That's the ticket! I've seen Joe and the engineer making preparations. We just operate this geared fan, and force air through the carburettor. There it goes, and the gasometer's rising. I'll give it a little more and then try her. Afterwards the running engine automatically pumps air. Now. How's that for done it?"
He switched the current in again, and moved over the clutch lever of the starter. The engine spun round immediately, spluttered in one or more cylinders, backfired once, thereby throwing the starter out of action; and then, when Dick again pushed his lever over relentlessly, the engine fired, and went off at a speed that made the whole engine-room tremble.
Dick shouted. Or rather, he tried to shout, the mouthpiece and his own want of breath preventing much noise coming from him. His eyes sparkled. He actually danced, and then became very solemn. For after all the fate of his comrades and of this fine vessel still rested entirely in his two hands. Yes, entirely, for a glance along the gallery told him that not one of his friends was yet conscious.
"Set her going then. Wait—what's the elevation? Jingo—we've come down to twenty-two thousand feet. That's something; wish we weren't in this cloud though. It makes a fellow wonder which way he ought to steer. Ah, there go the elevator fans!"
He could hear them whirring, and looked up at thebarometer. The ship was rising, and with a gesture of disgust he realized that he had set the elevators working in the wrong direction. Instantly he reversed them, and presently had the satisfaction of seeing that the vessel was descending. Then he started up the ship's propeller, and soon had her moving, but very cautiously; for the damp, white cloud hid everything. Indeed, he was within an ace of wrecking the vessel, and, but for a quick twist of his wrist and a sudden acceleration of his motor, he would have driven the airship against a rocky headland standing out from the mountain.
"A miss is as good as a mile," he grinned. "Oh, shan't I be jolly glad to get away from this Mount Everest? Not much!—not 'alf, as Hawkins would say. Anyway, that peep gave me the right direction. Now, I'll take her along at speed, and get clear out into the open."
"Eighteen thousand feet—what's happened?" the question came in weak tones from Joe Gresson. Dick nodded cheerfully at him. He had discarded his oxygen mouthpiece, though the cylinder was still slung to his back.
"You sit still," he shouted. "We're falling, and mighty quick now, I fancy. Stay there till you're feeling yourself, and then come and advise me. We're over on the Tibet side of the Himalayas, and I'm looking out for a landing."
One by one, as the ship descended, the unconscious crew regained their senses, and for the most part looked about them in the most bewildered manner.For they were piled indiscriminately about the gallery, crew and passengers mixed together inextricably. Nor had they entirely escaped damage, as might well be expected. Some were severely bruised by the manner in which the sloping deck had caused them to slide, while Larkin was quite angry. He was fully conscious, and had just dragged himself from beneath the somewhat ponderous frame of the grinning Hurst. His nose was bleeding, as was the case with many of them; but that was not the cause of his agitation. One eye was closed, and the cheek beneath beautifully swollen.
"Of all the mean tricks," he was growling, "of all the mean, dirty games to play on a fellow when he's fallen, this is it. What do yer mean, young feller?"
But Hurst still grinned placidly at him. He was, to speak the truth, barely more than semi-conscious. A delicious feeling of fatigue assailed him, and had he had his own way he would have lain there in the passage and fallen into a sound slumber. That is, as soon as he had finished with Private Larkin. He was sleepily admiring that hero at this precise moment. He didn't exactly know how it was that he and the noble Larkin had become so mixed up together. Perhaps they had been for a spree ashore, and here was the consequence. But this his addled senses could take in, and it afforded him huge amusement—Private Larkin's none too handsome face was swollen to the proportions of a pumpkin, and the distension beneath that eye was as green as possible. There remained but one orb then, a staring orb, whichhad fastened itself indignantly, even threateningly, upon the sailor, moreover Hurst could tell that it was the one that habitually squinted. What wonder that he could not take the angry Larkin seriously?
"If you don't look handsome, not 'arf," he interjected. "Jest you get movin' on yer two flat feet and take a squint at yer phiz in that there mirror. You'll see a sight there that'll scare yer. No, no! I ain't asking you to look away in the corner. The mirror's there, above yer ugly head, and lor, you just take care that you don't go right off and crack it."
The situation was becoming a little strained before the Major pulled himself together, helped the Commander to his feet, and separated the two who had been speaking. Then they went to Mr. Andrew, whom they found soundly asleep, breathing as gently as any child, and undoubtedly unharmed by his late experience. Joe, too, was on his feet now, while Hawkins had put in an appearance.
"I'm owin' one more to Mr. Dicky," he told his chums, as they clustered in the gallery and eagerly discussed this late happening. "I just did the most almighty skid you could dream of. I can remember the ship rolling and sending me quick right across to the railing. Then I slid back again, and I can feel now the grip that Mr. Dicky got of my collar. After that there was darkness, till of a sudden my eyes opened. Bless you, lads, that there Mr. Midshipman Hamshaw has saved the whole sitivation; by hisself he's done it. And if it hadn't ha' been for him, and his pluck, and what not, there wouldn't bea airship now, no, nor any of us covies. Larkin, you ain't called for to speak. I know what you was thinkin' of saying. That Mr. Alec'd have been as good. I agrees, so the wind's taken completely out of your sails, and there ain't no call for an argument. But though he'd have had the pluck, he didn't have the senses. It takes a hard chap to stand what we've been through. Understand me, lad; it takes a sailor—now, just you stop jawin'."
It was merely a passing pleasantry between the two services, and the pugnacious Larkin perforce closed his lips and sulked for a moment. But it was only for a moment; for within a little while the crew were gathered in their own quarters partaking of their evening meal, and so preparing themselves for the hard work now expected of them. In the saloon Mr. Andrew and his friends gathered about the table, while Sergeant Evans waited upon them as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened, and as if it were a mere uninteresting item in the day's performance that he himself, but two hours earlier, had been stretched senseless in his own pantry, his face a dusky blue, his nose and ears bleeding, and his pulse beating at a pace which would have alarmed the most hopeful of practitioners.
But if he said nothing, Andrew and Joe and their guests were full of praise of Dicky Hamshaw.
"'Pon my word, I'm proud of him as a brother officer," cried the Commander cordially. "Tell us all about it, Dick."
The bashful midshipman recounted what had happened,and how he had overcome the many difficulties which had, one after another, faced him.
"It looked like being all up at one time, sir," he said. "The ship was turning on her nose, making it difficult to get about and reach the valves. I'm afraid we've done a heap of damage. You see, one hadn't time to waste, nor breathe either. And so I laid in at the heads of the valves with my hammer, careless, so long as I could get them to open."
"And rightly so," said Joe warmly. "As to damage, it will be trifling, and of no consequence; for we carry aboard spare valves and seatings, and they can be fitted in a few hours. That reminds me to speak of our movements. We are now on the Tibetan side of the Himalayas, resting a couple of hundred yards above the ground, and in a totally uninhabited part. It will be necessary to refit, to take in water, and to set our gas-producer plant going. Now, why not a trip to Lhasa in the meanwhile? A trip to the forbidden city, there to call upon the Chinese Governor? It would be interesting and instructive both to the Llama priests and to ourselves, and it will be something to have accomplished."
Such a journey was a mere nothing to the aeroplane carried upon the broad deck of the airship, and as Joe required only a few of his staff to effect repairs and restock the tanks, quite a large party left the ship on the following morning. Nor is there much of startling moment to record as to their doings. For the city of Lhasa to-day is inhabited by beings holding different views from those living there but a fewyears ago. Then the place was sacred, travellers were forbidden to enter, while the very effort of reaching the city was more than enough to dissuade the average person from making the attempt. Those upland plains about the city are, in fact, a wilderness of inhospitality in winter weather, while the milder months are all too short for an expedition which entails going afoot, and demands strenuous exertions from the very beginning. But a welcome now awaits the stranger. The Llamas seek for outside guidance, and are no longer content with an existence unbroken by the smallest distraction. The European who cares to undertake that journey may expect some kindness, while Tibet to-day has sent her sons to Europe, there to gather something of Western learning and customs. It followed, therefore, that Dick and Alec had a merry and entertaining visit to record, and enjoyed the aeroplane trip immensely. Then they rejoined the airship, now complete and ready, and that same evening the vessel once more crossed the Himalayas and steered a course for Burma.
"Where we take in oil for our engines," said Joe. "Later, we will follow the red route down the length of Burma till we reach the Malay Peninsula. Afterwards there is Borneo to be visited, and then New Guinea and Australasia."
The delights of such a course need no elaborate description, and without a doubt they were put in the shade by constant admiration for the ship's behaviour. For it was not always fair weather, and that gale of wind about the summit of the mountainthey had so recently left was as nothing to a storm experienced off Sumatra. Then, indeed, the true working of Joe Gresson's design was experienced and appreciated.
"I could not have believed it," the Commander shouted in the Major's ear as they stood on the upper deck clutching the railings. "A Zeppelin now in a gale such as this is would be torn to pieces."
"Smashed; her sides driven in without a doubt. Then she could never face a storm of this fierceness. She would be driven miles out of her course, if she were not wrecked instantly."
"While we merely head up to the gale and lay to, hardly even rolling."
Thanks to the water ballast which she had again taken aboard, the airship was wonderfully steady, while her capacity to withstand a gale was proved to the utmost. Even when turned broadside on to the wind the ship maintained her position, the sweeping aerial currents being cut asunder by those lateral keels, and passing harmlessly above and beneath her. But then she was possessed of those cross air-shafts in which powerful screws worked, a feature absent entirely from the Zeppelin.
It was a week later when the passengers on the deck above sighted the huge island of New Guinea, that inhospitable region, a great part of which is still unknown to white men, where jungles and swamps are inhabited by the fiercest of cannibals. And here it was that Dick and his friends came in for another adventure.