Part 46 (2/2)

”Wireless the 'Hippo,'” wrote Barcroft, receiving the laconic reply ”Can't.” The delicate apparatus had been put out of action when the seaplane staggered under the force of the explosion.

”Then that's done it,” thought Billy, pulling off his gloves and running his finger over a slight, almost imperceptible, dent in the petrol tank. The engine was missing badly, and although able to note the fact by observation the pilot guessed rightly that the precious fluid was leaking. Holding his fingers to his nostrils he could faintly smell the volatile fluid. The petrol was leaking, and evaporating as fast as it came in contact with the air.

The application of a piece of soap to the minute fracture temporarily remedied matters, but the mischief was already done. The petrol was almost exhausted.

By this time the German torpedo-boats were almost out of sight, mere dots upon the horizon, their position indicated by long trailing clouds of black smoke. Some uncanny knowledge must have urged the commanders of the various boats to hang on to what appeared to be a fruitless chase. To them the seaplane would be almost invisible unless they kept her under observation by means of their binoculars.

In that case they must have noticed the little aircraft gradually dropping towards the surface of the sea.

Anxiously Barcroft scanned the expanse of water in front--a clear field of sea bounded by an unbroken horizon. The seaplane carriers and their strong escort had steamed homewards, taking it for granted that one at least of the raiders on Cuxhaven had been brought down by the heavy hostile fire.

The attempt had been only moderately successful. The fog that had baffled Barcroft had enveloped the rest of the British seaplanes before they had time to get properly to work. Altogether a dozen bombs had been dropped upon the naval port, before the thick bank of haze enveloped them and hid their desired object from their view.

Greeted by a tremendous fire from the German Archibalds, the raiders returned in safety; for the Huns, baffled by the thick weather, could only fire at random. With a few minor damages the airmen regained their respective parent s.h.i.+ps, and then it was discovered that Barcroft and Kirkwood had not returned. None of the other flying men had sighted their machine after the first few minutes of the outward flight. It was therefore concluded that the two men were lost, and notwithstanding Fuller's request to make a search, the ”Hippodrome” and her consorts steamed westward.

Although Barcroft felt acute disappointment at finding that the vessels had left the rendezvous, he realised that no blame could be attached to the officers responsible for the order to return. Had he flown straight back he might have been in time, but it was the bombing of the battles.h.i.+p that had delayed him.

”It's jolly well worth it,” he soliloquised. ”But we look like being in the cart again. I begin to think that Kirkwood is a bit of a Jonah, although hitherto he's managed to turn up safely. Hope his luck--and mine--will still hold good.”

A motionless blade of the propeller, coming across his field of vision, betokened the unpleasant fact that the motor had refused duty. Almost imperturbably Billy held on to the joy-stick, guiding the seaplane on her long seaward glide.

The A.P., thinking that something had befallen his chum, leant over the curved deck of the cha.s.sis and touched his shoulder.

Barcroft smiled in reply and pointed to the empty petrol-tank--a smile that restored his companion's confidence. Nevertheless the vol plane was a dangerous one. The reduction of the wing-spread, bad enough when the machine was driving furiously through the air, caused the seaplane to slip badly while solely under the attraction of gravity. Should a ”slip” occur just before the floats took the water the chance of a fatal capsize were almost a dead certainty.

Realising such a possibility the A.P., who had already unbuckled his waist-strap, kept on the alert, ready at the first sign of a disaster to hack through his companion's belt with a keen knife.

Even then he wondered what was the use? With no help in sight their fruitless struggle for life would only be unnecessarily prolonged.

Then came the opposing thought: while there's life there's hope, and never say die till you're dead.

Again the volplaning craft side-slipped. Barcroft was only just in time to regain control, and making a faultless ”landing,” brought his command to an aerial rest upon the surface. It could not be termed other than an aerial rest, for the simple reason that the waterborne fabric was rolling and pitching in the short steep seas that are to be met with off the flat Frisian sh.o.r.e.

”For one thing the day is long,” thought Billy as he stood upright upon the deck of the swaying cha.s.sis and, supporting himself by one of the struts, looked fixedly in the direction of the pursuing torpedo-boats. They were no longer visible, the difference in alt.i.tude having put them below the horizon, but the ominous clouds of smoke told the flight-sub that the Huns were still persisting in their search. It was just possible, however, that they might pa.s.s some miles to windward and not sight the inconspicuous disabled seaplane in that waste of waters.

Even supposing such to be the case, what fate was in store for the crew of this helpless machine? This part of the North Sea on which they had alighted was a sort of nautical No Man's Land. Fis.h.i.+ng vessels gave it a wide berth, fearing the deadly and unseen menace of the mines. Merchantmen no longer followed the once busy maritime highway that led to the erstwhile prosperous port of Hamburg. Save for rare excursions on the part of the German torpedo flotillas and the occasional ”sweeps” of Beatty's light cruisers and destroyers nothing afloat was likely to pa.s.s that way. Should the seaplane remain seaborne sufficiently long she might drift ash.o.r.e, but from the direction of the wind it was pretty obvious that she would do so somewhere on the German Frisian group outside the southern portion of the chain of islands belonging to neutral Holland.

The A.P. nudged his companion and tendered his cigarette case.

Kirkwood was already smoking a pipe on the principle that he never knew when he might have a chance of another. Billy took the proffered cigarette and lit it. The tobacco seemed tasteless. With his lack of speech the flavour of the fragrant weed was denied him.

Nearer and nearer came the smudges of smoke. The Huns were hard on the track of the crippled seaplane. Already Barcroft could distinguish the grey funnels just visible above the sky-line.

”We must destroy our maps and doc.u.ments,” he wrote. ”When I give the word smash the floats. Don't forget your air-collar.”

Fumbling in the locker the observer produced a pneumatic life-saving arrangement, which, when inflated, was capable of supporting its wearer for an indefinite time.

Suddenly in the midst of the task of inflating the collar Kirkwood removed the tube from his lips. The air rushed out, and the rubber fabric collapsed like a punctured pneumatic tyre, while the A.P.

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