Daniel, once more in the crow’s nest, noted even with the looking glass, after the third hour, he could no longer see the lights of the German ship. Captain Micawber walked the bridge and nodded when he was apprised of this information. Daniel sought his bunk and sleep. He would wake with the first light and the landing duty, should there be any Boer parties to stop.
In the morning, their position was hundreds of miles south of Pretoria, along the route that the Captain seemed sure the men who had stolen the diamonds would travel. Captain Micawber confided in Ensign Baldrick, and him, “I did not question Mr. Rhodes, but he seemed well-informed as to the makeup of the thieves and their plans. That he knew this in Cape Town two days after it had occurred in Durban is due, of course, to the telegraph. That he knew so much can only be due to what Mr. Rhodes has made it his business to know. More than three hundred Boer men voted for annexation of the Transvaal. One can believe Mr. Rhodes has friends amongst them.”
Daniel though thought Mr. Rhodes might be quite dangerous if he tried to keep one foot in each camp. “Sir, twelve men, heavily armed—that shall be a challenge.”
“Yes. But I have confidence in you young men. And when you return with the diamonds, I shall invite the wardroom to my cabin where I shall make punch and we shall have a toast, eh?”
Two parties passed below, traveling north, while there was one traveling the road south. The northern-bound two had cattle, wagons, kaffirs. Captain Micawber ruled them out, though Daniel thought it could be the enemy they sought in disguise. Then the lookouts called out that another party was sighted fitting the description of the vagrants they looked for.
Captain Micawber took them to the ground, and Daniel, with the search party, quickly moved to encounter the riders, a group of people not happy to be met, but they had little to hide. A family party, and most of them were British—something not easily ascertained from miles away in the sky.
Less than an hour later, another party was spotted, and once again, the Golden Mary and her crew sank from the sky to investigate. This time, a party of Boer men, but they were farmers. Daniel realized that almost all Boer men were farmers, but he felt certain those who stole diamonds would seem much more guilty than these.
Three hours later, another group of travelers looked as if they could be the ones they were searching for.
The Golden Mary descended, with the sun directly behind them, allowing an element of surprise. Circling over the riders, Lieutenant Gay ordered the dozen horsemen, once more Boers, to hold fast. Some cannons were trained on them, and a few Marines with their guns aimed towards the party. Ensign Baldrick and Daniel descended ropes to the ground, with six marines, six airmen, and the bo’sun, Mr. Weller.
“I say, you men, we are conducting a search and must ask you to empty your pockets and show us what is in your saddlebags. I am afraid it’s quite important,” Ensign Baldrick called.
One Boer on a horse closest to the party from the Golden Mary said, “Damn Englishers. You have no right.” The man then spoke in his own language to the other riders.
Daniel spoke up. “We have a ship with more than two-hundred men and twenty-four cannon that says we do have such a right. We do not want to use force against you, but there are men of your nation who want us to be at war. They have done a thing to provoke such. And as you are aware, war causes men such as us to become killers. It is rather unpleasant.” Daniel had pulled out his sword. “Be a good man, now, and empty your pockets.”
The man on the horse looked once more to his cohorts and said something in Afrikaans again. He then spat a large gob to the ground.
Daniel had advanced on the man close enough that he could smell him. The Boer stank, as if he had been living rough for some time. It reminded Daniel of the sick, sweet smell of decay, when the vegetables aboard ship went bad.
This close, Daniel could see the man’s skin was hardened leather from years under the African sun. A scar ran from his forehead down the left side of his face towards his ear.
“What’s in your pockets?” Daniel asked once more.
“Nah. I shall not show you, damn Englisher,” the Boer said, and reached into his coat.
Daniel saw a pistol being pulled forth. He jumped forward and slashed against the back of the man’s right arm with his sword. A shot fired from the gun. The Boer screamed in agony and gripped at his wounded arm. The gun dropped to the ground as blood from the slash sprayed in the air. The muscles in the Boer’s forearm were severed. He would never hold anything in that hand again.
The airmen and marines instantly brought their own weapons to bear, yet, the Boers pulled their guns as well. Shots rang out.
Daniel stood next to the horse, which gave him cover. The men from the Golden Mary took their shots, then crouched down as they reloaded.
A second round of shots began to ring out. The man that Daniel had wounded kicked him in the shoulder. The horse jumped. Daniel could not tell which side was shooting. Both, no doubt!
Daniel struggled with the Boer, who aimed another kick at him. Daniel struck the foot with his sword, then slashed at the stirrup leather once, twice, hitting the horse as well.
The injured horse jumped, and Daniel knew he could become badly injured. More than a thousand pounds of horse could crush him. The Boer kicked at Daniel’s head. Daniel reached up and pulled the man‘s foot. The Boer fell out of the saddle and Daniel threw him to the ground.
Daniel could see how the battle was progressing. Four other Boers remained unwounded. The landing party readied to fire again. The Boers, still able to fight, defied the overwhelming odds.
Or perhaps they wanted to be martyrs.
One enemy aimed, fired, and hit Ensign Baldrick. Baldrick’s last order had the Marines firing into the air. Calling for them to ‘put up you damn fools! Put up your arms!’
All but two Boers surrendered, then. One of the last Boers pointed his rifle straight at Daniel and was shot dead. A marksman from the Golden Mary had exceptional aim.
Beside Ensign Baldrick, the Boers wounded three others in the landing party. Five of the thieves lay dead, with nearly all the other Boers injured.
Dr. Sawyer and his assistants came quickly to the ground, as did the remainder of the Marine contingent. Dr. Sawyer patched those that needed patching.
Daniel started a search for the diamonds. Then Lieutenant Bagnell took charge.
They found the large gems in the saddle bag of the very man that Daniel had engaged. Captain Micawber commended his men in a loud voice. “Justice has been done here. We shall bring these men aboard and return them to the Cape and Governor Frere will decide what to do.”
Hustling up the Boers to the Golden Mary, the bandaged leader turned to Daniel. “Bawh, you Englishers are fools. You think this we do alone, without friends? You big country. We have big friends. We are not so foolish like you make picture of Oom Paul.”
Wilkins sat in his cabin, taking a rest. The Golden Mary now headed back to Beaufort West, bypassing Kimberley. He did not know if the Germans would interfere over British territory. They had followed him the previous day, and the presence of Manuel Antonio de Sousa aboard the Frederick worried him.
The ship had enough coal, and the winds were favorable as well. He ordered the speed of the propellers be reduced. Wilkins worried about the Germans. What were they doing in Kimberley? Why had they followed them towards Pretoria? What did the old Boer mean when he spoke to Copperfield?
It was all a bother. He knew after a few sips of the punch he had mixed and things would seem better. A few glasses and his rest would become sleep, and he could use that. He had spent the previous night without any, manning the bridge and ensuring they lost the pursuing Germans.
“. . . to the bridge. Lieutenant Gay’s compliments, sir, and would you please come to the bridge!” Obvious striking at the door. “Captain Micawber, you are needed on the bridge . . .”
“Yes. Yes. I’m coming.”
He slipped his feet into his shoes and then quic
kly buckled them. His sword hung on a peg near the door, but if he needed it, he would send for it. He opened the door and the Marine snapped to attention. Midshipman Copperfield waited for him. “Lieutenant Gay’s compliments, but with the sunrise we’ve spotted the Frederick, sir. They came from the east with the sun at their back, and three thousand feet of altitude as well.”
“High and behind, with the wind as well, I have no doubt.” Wilkins did not like having lost the advantage of height. He felt the angle of the ship below his feet and knew that Gay already tried to regain some of it. Not that it would be easy.
He had three of his seven coat buttons closed when he reached the deck. Wilkins looked back and high to see if he could locate the enemy.
“There, sir,” Copperfield pointed for him and Wilkins saw. No, he did not like it.
“Lookout,” he called. “Has the Frederick cleared for action?”
“Aye, sir. They’ve run out their guns!”
“Then action stations. Lieutenant Bagnell, prepare for action!” he said to the marine commander, who would relay the order to his drummers. Wilkins knew his officers must make ready for war.
He saw Lieutenant Gay looking at him from the bridge, who nodded. “Well done, Gay. I think that Boer referred to the German Emperor as his special friend. We need more height. But I fear they shall be close enough for a volley before we are above them. And they are ready? Where have they got such speed?”
Lieutenant Gay nodded, “I do not think, as you previously espoused, that the Frederick is as maneuverable as the Mary. I think we might have something to show them.”
Wilkins climbed the short steps up to the bridge. “We have our work laid out for us. The cannon on the middeck won’t reach at this angle, so we are effectively half of our weight; but then, he may have the same problem. Now, prepare the gun deck for firing at the angle. But, below, where we can puncture his hull. Get at his engine room. Maybe see a shot that holes him and bleeds him of all the coal in his bins.”
He had studied a fight of one such ship lost by the Union that way. The only time that dirigibles had dueled was the American Civil War. The Confederate States ship Richmond had scored a hit on the Union Samuel Adams. Nine-tenths of the coal leaked out, falling to earth.
In all probability now, a new battle would take place.
But would it? The Germans would not want a war to occur over the Boers of the Transvaal, or would they? If Mr. Rhodes was right, the more land each European nation claimed, the more chances for great wealth, and many other advantages that would accrue because of such ownership.
In the distance, the sound of a cannon firing. One cannon, and all eyes turned back to the Frederick. “Ranging shot, or warning shot?” Wilkins asked aloud.
Looking below, there was nothing but the veldt and occasional farm lands. Still, farms meant that there might indeed be people below. Good luck to those souls. It was going to get messy. Very messy.
Wilkins stiffened as he realized that this moment was important. The pressure drew into his center and he felt taut. Was he a dried tree branch that would break? Were the men, most of whom had never faced an enemy in battle, ready for this?
Were he and his officers ready to lead under these circumstances?
When no cannon-shot flew in the air, sailing in the sky was rather pleasant. When the chance of being felled by a twelve-pound ball, or the damage it would do to the ship, existed, would the men stand firm?
Would Wilkins do his duty, as well? Or would all fall into quivering scared men, cowering and clamoring for safety?
“Sir, too far to hear if they are hailing,” Lieutenant Gay said.
“It is that, isn’t it? Well, we are certainly over the land of the Empire. Our Empire, not theirs. And either way, a shot at us is not something we shall let go by without response in kind. That they fired first provokes us and causes this to be an incident upon their heads. Are we cleared for action yet, Mr. Gay?”
“Sir. Momentarily, sir. Momentarily.” Wilkins looked below to the gun deck and saw hurried activity as the crew ran about, some pulling on ropes that pushed the guns into position. Loaded and ready to fire.
Shouts and curses resounded as the men struggled to prepare to fight. If he could keep them busy, then their minds would be full. Not left to ponder on being killed by the enemy.
Wilkins stepped over to the helmsman, where Mr. Bunsby stood, as well. “Here are my plans, and you can add to it should you wish, Mr. Bunsby. We shall not have height, but we are rising at an angle, and the Frederick certainly looks to be falling at one, as well. I think we can turn sharply should we cut the starboard propeller just shy of crossing the line, then hard to starboard, and the port propeller will push us further and faster. We have practiced this,” he reminded them. The helmsman would shift the rudder, and the propeller would be shut down by the engineers.
Mr. Bunsby said, “If we’re lucky and can cut beneath the enemy, our deck guns all may fire up at the Germans.”
“This is my intention, though I believe we shall launch one volley first, perhaps two, before such a maneuver can be executed.”
The two men nodded. They understood his plans. When the time came, they would do what was needed. He heard reports relayed that the middeck was prepared, although Wilkins did not think those guns would see action unless a great distance was maintained, or they reached a more level altitude relative to the Germans. Then the gun deck reported they were ready. He ordered the Golden Mary’s own guns run out.
Looking at the German, he saw that the enemy fired a full broadside, then heard the sound of attack. He ordered the helmsman to put the ship hard over to port, and shouted in a speaking cup to the engine room. More speed to the propellers.
That, however, did little good, as the cannon shot from the enemy reached where they had been.
And Wilkins smiled.
Where they had been. The Germans had not counted on how far they would travel when they sped along at over twenty miles an hour.
“Mr. Gay. Take note that they are ill-prepared for such gunnery when their target is in motion. You may respond to their aggressive attack at your pleasure, sir!”
Lieutenant Gay smiled back and then went to each of the six guns that had the enemy in its sights. On two cannon he made adjustments, and then commanded all to fire.
The noise was deafening. Much worse from the Golden Mary then the report from the enemy. His ears rang with the sound.
The ship rocked and moved sideways with the attack. It had taken dozens of gun drills for Wilkins to not be unnerved by such a motion. Still, it left him unsettled.
He worried that one day the ship would move, and he would not. Then, for only a moment, find himself suspended in the air, with nothing below him. A second later, Wilkins envisioned he would plunge to the ground.
Lieutenant Bates, who watched the shot as it sped to the enemy, called out, “Two hits. Two solid hits.”
The young man then clarified that one was against the hull, and another had scored in a balloon bag of the enemy.
Wilkins estimated that the larger ship had eight bags to keep it aloft. If the hit they had just given the Germans was solid enough, the enemy might now only have seven with which to continue the battle. That would make it harder for the Germans to maintain the height advantage they currently held.
The smoke would increase with each attack, so acrid and vile that it would cause his throat to dry and itch. Wilkins knew from many hours of gun practice that this would become the case.
“Mr. Wemmick, ensure that the gun crews have water for their thirst!”
Lieutenant Gay saw to the reloading of the six guns that had bore, the rest unable to shoot. Wilkins kept a careful watch, ready to alter course once the German ship fired again.
Such a moment came.
They turned to starboard, then reduced altitude quickly as the cannonballs flew past. The ship shuddered as one ball struck the bulkhead.
Sub-lieutenant Bates called that it had hit
near the rear of the ship, and then clarified that the ball had hit the wall of his cabin. It had not penetrated, but splinter damage inside near the joints of an interior wall that had buckled would need repair. He would see to it after the battle was finished.
If he survived.
“There, men. They have hit us, and we still fly. Let us give them a response!” he called down into the waist of the ship. The men shouted their defiance as well in a hearty cheer.
Lieutenant Gay pulled men from the middeck crews for even greater speed on his reply volleys. The six guns that had shots on the Germans crashed out again. Three hits scored: two on the balloon bag and one clearly had hit the enemy’s gun deck.
The two dirigibles had been angling in the sky, reducing the height advantage that the Germans’ had. Of a sudden, the Frederick definitely lost a much greater degree of altitude. At least five hundred feet more loss than Wilkins’ math projected.
“Reduce our ascent level by three degrees on the ailerons, if you please, Mr. Bunsby. We are having a great effect on the enemy and I should not like to lose the ability to place a volley up his backside!”
“Aye, sir. That is a right good description.” Bunsby passed on the order to trim the propeller planes to the desired level.
Before the Germans could fire their third volley, Lieutenant Gay responded with his six guns again. Two of the guns, with Mr. Copperfield standing near, had a line of shot standing ready, with two rails that had been laid down between. Wilkins would have to investigate that after the battle was concluded.
“Three hits. Again, three solid hits, two to the hull, one to their quarterdeck.”
Then the enemy fired, and Wilkins once again ordered maneuvers. He felt three hits by the enemy, one crossing the gun deck. The shot nearly obliterated one of his own gun crews.
Wilkins saw a man down. No, half of a man. He had no legs beyond stubs that had been his thighs. Another man was buried under the truck of the cannon that had been destroyed by the enemy shot. Two hale airmen tried to reach the wounded man, but the trapped man didn’t appear to be moving.
Mechanized Masterpieces: A Steampunk Anthology Page 11
