Episode Transcript
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Greetings This is a reading of the book The Airship Golden Hind
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Some of the language in this book has not aged well and is indeed no longer politicly correct Take caution when listening to this visual audio-book
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The Airship Golden Hind By
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Percy F Westerman
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CHAPTER 9 THE. ESCAPADE OF ENRICO JAURES
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'What are those blighters doing
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' soliloquised Kenyon for the twentieth time 'Are they buying the place, or are they poodle-faking
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They ought to have been back hours ago '
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It was well after sunset The 'Golden Hind' had taken in stores and provisions, and had replenished her fuel and oil tanks
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An anchor watch had been set, and having 'gone the rounds' in order to satisfy himself that everything was in order Kenneth Kenyon had gone to his cabin to write letters that would be sent ashore when the picket-boat brought off the skipper and Bramsdean
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A shrill blast of the voice-tube whistle made Kenyon hasten across the long narrow cabin There was something insistent about the summons
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It was not the discreet apologetic trill that the look-out man gave when he wished to report some trivial incident to the officer of the watch
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'Hello ' replied Kenyon
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'We’re adrift, sir,' announced the man, excitedly
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Telling the look-out to call the duty-watch, Kenyon replaced the whistle in the mouth of the voice-tube, struggled into his leather, fur-lined coat, and hurried to the navigation-room
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As he passed the various motor-rooms he noticed that the air-mechanics of the duty-watch were already at their posts awaiting the order to get the engines running
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Throwing open one of the windows, Kenyon looked out into the night There was no staggering, biting wind
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Dr. . ifting with the breeze, the airship was apparently motionless save for a gently-undulating movement, but the merest glance served to corroborate the look-out man’s words Already the 'Golden Hind,' having risen to 6000 feet and still climbing, was well to the south’ard of Europa Point
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He could see the lighthouse on the south-western point of the peninsula of Gibraltar steadily receding as the airship approached the African coast
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Kenyon was on the point of telegraphing for half-speed ahead when he bethought him of the cable More than likely, he decided, the wire rope had parted half-way between the nose of the fuselage and the buoy
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There was danger in the comparatively light, springy wire getting foul of the for’ard propellers Stranded wire is apt to play hanky-panky tricks
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'Get the cable inboard,' he ordered
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'Don’t use the winch or you won’t get the wire to lie evenly on the reel Haul it in by hand
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' Two of the crew descended to the bow compartment, which, besides forming a living-room for the men, contained the cable winch
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'’Get it in by ’and,’ ’e said,' remarked one of the men to his companion
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'Blimey There ain’t ’arf a strain on the blessed thing
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Bear a ’and, chum '
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Presently one of the men returned to the navigation-room
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'Pardon, sir,' he said, saluting, 'but we can’t haul the wire in It’s foul of something
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Shall we bring it to the winch, sir '
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'Foul of something, eh ' echoed Kenyon
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'Does that mean we’ve hiked up the blessed mooring-buoy Switch on the bow searchlight, Jackson
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' The order was promptly obeyed, and the rays of the 10,000 candle-power lamp were directed vertically downwards
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Leaning well out of the open window, Kenyon peered along the glistening length of tautened cable until parting from the converging rays of the searchlight it vanished into space
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'Two degrees left,' ordered Kenneth
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'Good--at that By Jove
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What’s that A man
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' Filled with a haunting suspicion that the suspended body might be that of his chum Peter, Kenyon felt his heart jump into his throat
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but a second glance, as the motionless figure slowly revolved at the end of the cable, relieved Kenneth’s mind on that, score Still, it was a human being in dire peril
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'Heave away handsomely,' continued Kenyon
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'Stand by to avast heaving,' he added
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The orders were communicated to the hands at the cable-winch Steadily the winch-motor clanked away until the word was passed to '’vast heaving
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' The luckless individual at the end of the wire was now dangling thirty feet below the bows of the fuselage
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It would have been useless to have hauled him up to the hawse-pipe, because there would be no means of getting him on board The only practical way to reach him was by lowering a rope from a trap-door on the underside of the chassis midway between the two hawse-pipes in the bows
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Meanwhile Kenyon was deftly making 'bowlines on the bight' at the extremities of two three-inch manilla ropes
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'Jackson,' he said, addressing the leading hand of the duty-watch, 'I’m going after that chap
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Tell off a couple of men to attend to each of the ropes If I make a mess of things and don’t get back, keep the ship head to wind till daylight, and then make for our former mooring
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There’ll be plenty of help available '
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Adjusting one of the loops under his arms and another round his legs above his knees, Kenneth slipped through the narrow trap-hatch, taking the second rope with him It was a weird sensation dangling in space with about 8000 feet of empty air between him and land or sea, for by this time the 'Golden Hind' was probably over the African coast
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But soon the eerie feeling passed and Kenneth, courageous, cool-headed and accustomed to dizzy heights, had no thought but for the work in hand
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'At that ' he shouted, when he found himself on the same level with the man he hoped to rescue
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'Take a turn '
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Ten feet from him was the unconscious Enrico Jaures The question now was, how was that intervening space to be bridged
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Kenyon began to sway his legs after the manner of a child on a swing
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'If the rope parts, then it’s a case of ’going west’ with a vengeance,' he soliloquised grimly
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'Christopher Isn’t it beastly cold
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' Momentarily the pendulum-like movement increased until Kenneth was able to grip the arm of the unconscious man
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As he did so Enrico’s belt, that had hitherto prevented him from dropping into space, parted like pack-thread
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With a jerk that nearly wrenched the rescuer’s arms from their sockets, the deadweight of the Scorp almost capsized Kenyon out of the bow-line As it was, he was hanging with his head lower than his feet, holding on with a grip of iron to Jaures’ arms
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Thus hampered, he realised that it was manifestly impossible to make use of the second bow-line
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'Haul up ' he shouted breathlessly
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'Heavens
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' he added 'Can I do it
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Can I hold on long enough '
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It was a question that required some answering The strain on his muscles, coupled with the effect of the unexpected jerk, the numbing cold, and, lastly, his own position, as he hung practically head downwards, all told against him
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Even in those moments of peril he found himself thinking he must present a ludicrous sight to the watchers in the airship in the dazzling glare of the searchlight
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'Stick it another half a minute, sir,' shouted a voice 'I’ll be with you in a brace of shakes
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' Of what happened during the next thirty long drawn out seconds Kenyon had only a hazy recollection
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He was conscious of someone bawling in his ear, 'Let go, sir I’ve got him all right
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' Kenneth obeyed mechanically
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In any case he was on the point of relaxing his grip through sheer inability on the part of his muscles to respond to his will The sudden release of the man he had rescued resulted in Kenyon regaining a normal position, and dizzy and utterly exhausted he was hauled into safety
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Someone gave him brandy
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The strong spirit revived him considerably
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'Where’s the fellow ' he asked
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'Safe, sir,' replied Jackson
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'Shall I carry on '
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'Yes, please,' said Kenneth, faintly, and with the clang of the telegraph indicator bells and the rhythmic purr of the motors borne to his ears he became unconscious
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Meanwhile Enrico Jaures, to all outward appearances a corpse, had been hauled on board One of the crew, observing Kenneth’s plight, had descended by means of another rope, and had deftly hitched the end round the Scorp’s body, climbing back hand over hand as unconcernedly as if he had been walking upstairs in his cottage in far-off Aberdeen
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'Like handling frozen mutton,' commented one of the crew as they attended to the rescued Jaures
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'Fine specimen, ain’t he An’ what’s he doing with that there marline-spike, I should like to know
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’Tain’t all jonnick, if you ask me '
