Tish Marches On (3 page)

I still maintain that this plan, however it worked out, was both feasible and well intended, as are all of Letitia Carberry’s. Indeed, as we approached and our speed slackened, he looked up at us with quite a pleasant smile and waved again.

“Hello!” he called. “Seen any sharks yet?”

But all at once his expression changed, and too late I saw what was happening. A slight puff of wind hit us at the moment, and the shark hook was moving directly toward him and was about to strike him. He ducked hastily to avoid it, and then occurred the dreadful thing which still haunts my dreams.

The hook caught him by the belt of his bathing trunks and lifted him bodily out of the boat.

N
EVER SHALL I FORGET
that moment, with Mr. Blane dangling face down far beneath us, and Aggie wailing feebly that she wanted to go home.

Nor was this all. The worst was still to come. For not only was he a heavy man, but on attempting to lift him the chain above the hook caught on the ladder, which was still over the side, and do what we could we were unable to liberate it. It was therefore with a sober face that Tish at last turned the
Snark
toward the land again.

“We must find assistance,” she observed. “By going close to the ground he may be able to catch hold of something and thus free himself. Or the men at the landing field can catch him. There is no reason for despair.”

“Not udless his belt breaks,” said Aggie darkly.

I have explained this in detail to show our real solicitude at the time. We did not kidnap Mr. Blane. We did not attack him. That the chain caught as it did was purely accidental. Indeed, we went so far as to lower a bottle of blackberry cordial on a line, to relieve somewhat the anxiety of his position, and he reached for it eagerly. In his constrained position, however, the attempt to swallow brought on a severe attack of coughing, and we were terrified lest his slender support give way.

I need not say how grateful we were when at last the shores of our beloved country came in sight. I remember that even Aggie rallied from her lethargy of despair.

“By dear, by dative lad!” she said. “Ad if ever I set foot od it agaid I’ll dever leave it.”

Poor Aggie! When I think what even then was before her my very spirit quails.

Nevertheless, when we reached the land another blow was in store for us. It was completely unfamiliar, and there was no sign whatever of the flying field. Moreover, although we saw plenty of people, none of them seemed surprised at our strange burden, or made any effort to help. Indeed, I have learned since that it was regarded as a movie stunt of some sort, and I believe there are still extant a number of photographs showing Mr. Blane in his strange situation.

Even Tish became seriously annoyed, the more so as no landing field of any sort was visible.

“The dratted idiots!” she said. “Look out for a haystack, Lizzie. We’ll have to put him somewhere.”

It was, I think, at that time that Aggie roused to make a remark which I was to remember later.

“I wish,” she said viciously, “that Charlie Sads could see us dow.”

I have seldom lived through a more anxious time. Now and then over the roar of the engines we could hear Mr. Blane’s voice, and he seemed to be shouting. We could not hear what he said, however. Then at last Tish slowed up the motors and leaned over the side.

“Ahoy below!” she called. “I am going down. Catch hold of a fence or something.”

We dipped at once, and a team of horses attached to a farm wagon shied violently and then ran away. We then passed over a golf course, and a number of people waved but made no effort to help us. At last, however, Mr. Blane managed to catch hold of some fencing and the situation was apparently saved. But at that moment a small breeze caught us, and he rose rapidly, carrying part of the fence with him.

(I wish here to state that, while it is true that he later dropped it on a cow, it was purely accidental, nor was the cow injured. That is shown by the speed with which she ran, and also by the way she jumped a quite high barbed-wire fence.)

It was while we were watching the cow that I heard Aggie scream.

“Tish!” she yelled. “The church steeple. He’ll hit it!”

It was too late. There was a jerk and the
Snark
leaped up and forward, throwing us all off our feet. But when we looked back Mr. Blane was safely on the top of the steeple, holding to a lightning rod with one hand while with the other, his belt having given way, he clutched at his bathing trunks.

As we passed over him he turned his face up to us, and I regret to say that it was contorted with fury.

It was at this time that there occurred the other incident which was to bring us such opprobrium later. Tish felt that help was still required, as the church was a remote one, and on a leaf from my pocket memorandum book she wrote as follows: “Mr. Jefferson Blane on church steeple at crossroads. Please call local fire department to rescue.”

This, lacking anything else, she tied to a shell from her rifle; when over the next town, she caught the attention of a number of people and then dropped it. To our dismay it fell into a chimney instead, and was followed very shortly by a muffled report and a puff of smoke and soot. I continue with the clipping mentioned earlier and headed “Local Resident Shot In Leg.”

“Not satisfied with what they had already done, the bandits then proceeded to shoot from the dirigible, one bullet striking Mr. Peter Jenks, the well-known grocer, who was reading his newspaper in front of the fire. Fortunately it lodged in his artificial leg, but Mr. Jenks is still in retirement, due to shock.”

As we never saw Mr. Peter Jenks, the unfairness of this report is obvious.

We circled for some time near the church steeple, and at last had the happiness of seeing people running in that direction. But it was then that Tish made one of her rare mistakes. We could, I am confident, have discovered the flying field in time and thus have been hauled down to earth; but here her conscience intervened.

“Due to no fault of our own,” she said, “we have left Mr. Blane’s motorboat to drift without guidance and inevitably be lost. We must locate it again, and bring it back.”

No protests availing, we again headed for the broad Atlantic. Tish was in excellent spirits, rejoicing at having reunited the two young lovers, and certain that their quarrel was over. But as we passed over the naval vessels once more she grew more sober.

“How strange it is,” she observed, “to be high in this beautiful air, secure from danger; and yet to see beneath us the murderous instruments of warfare. Nature,” she added, “is kind. It is only man who is cruel.”

It is at such moments that Tish is at her best.

How true, as we were to discover later!

We moved on. Aggie was now calm, if despairing. Tish was watching for Mr. Blane’s boat and—it being almost noon by that time—I prepared a luncheon. Due to various causes the soup had been spilled, and the caramel custard was spread largely over the basket. Indeed, strangely enough, all that remained intact was our eggs; and over Aggie’s protests we were reduced to scrambled eggs and tea again.

Thus reinforced, we all felt better, and Tish fell to planning how to rescue the boat without damage.

“If we can use the shark hook to bring up a handling rope,” she said thoughtfully, “we can then make a loop in the rope and drop it, preferably over the steering wheel. After that it will be a simple matter to tow it back.”

After some difficulty this was arranged, and as we had by this time seen what was apparently the boat far ahead, all appeared well. We lowered the loop into the water and prepared for action.

It was then that we saw the shark. It was coming from the coast directly toward us, swimming under the surface and moving with amazing rapidity. I recall Tish and her expression as she gazed down at it.

“I had no idea,” she said thoughtfully, “that they swam so fast.”

Those were the last words I heard her speak for some time!

Considering the situation now, I understand what followed. At the time, however, I only knew that there was a terrific jerk, and that without warning the
Snark
was brought close to the surface of the water and shot forward with astounding speed. This is undoubtedly when the fisherman saw us; however that may be, the result was shocking. All of us were thrown to the rear of the cabin, and to make matters worse, an occasional wave washed in and almost smothered us.

Nor was that all. We were up to our waists in water when Tish, gazing ahead, saw that we were approaching a floating structure, shaped roughly like a boat, and hastily called to us to hold on to something. The next moment there came a shocking explosion. We were showered with pieces of wood, and the
Snark
, abruptly released, rose high in the air and whirled about in a most dizzy fashion.

It was Tish who recovered first and rose slowly to her feet.

“That was a torpedo, Lizzie,” she said, in a strange voice.

“Indeed!” I replied coldly. “I thought it was a shark that had swallowed some dynamite.”

But she ignored me.

“It is quite evident what has happened,” she observed. “The navy is at practice and the thing caught in the loop of our rope. It is extremely fortunate,” she added, “that it struck the target. Otherwise we might be far at sea by this time.”

I had no time to consider what might have happened. What had occurred was plenty. The fact is that a hasty survey had showed me no sign whatever of Aggie, and it was some time before, on wading to the rear of the cabin, I discovered her in the small lavatory installed there. So violent had been the impact that she was wedged tightly against a sanitary fixture, with only her head above water. And I can still see her gazing up at me with agonized eyes.

“I have lost by teeth, Lizzie,” she said plaintively.

It was some time before we recovered them, luckily undamaged, and I regret to say that Aggie was in a most unpleasant humor. Not only had a small fish taken refuge about her person, but she had swallowed considerable sea water. She said with some bitterness that she had been a number of things in her time, but never an aquarium.

“Ad I’be full of water,” she added indignantly. “Put a couple of hoops od be, ad I’d bake a good barrel.”

However, I soon forgot her troubles. On emerging into the cabin I realized that something was seriously wrong. Tish was standing in the water, gazing ahead, and her face was sober as she turned to me.

“The engines have stopped, Lizzie,” she said.

It was but too true.

Words fail me when I attempt to describe our situation. There was no land in sight. The cabin was awash, and no efforts of ours sufficed to open the door so that the water might escape. And our attempts at bailing—with the teakettle and frying pan—had little or no effect; indeed, they only revealed the variety of sea life we had picked up, including several fish, an eel or two, and a number of small crabs. (We evidently overlooked some fish, as the
Daily Mail
later stated that two were found in the
Snark
, quite alive, and adding to the mystery.)

As we were all drenched to the skin, we were obliged to remove such garments as we could and hang them up to dry. This we did by stretching a line, and what was later alluded to as our red flag was merely Aggie’s flannel petticoat which, hanging near a window, blew out at intervals.

In addition to all this, we were drifting helplessly, now high above the waves and then close to the surface; and to add to our discomfort a storm was undoubtedly blowing up. There were huge clouds to the west, and the sky was darkening. No efforts of Tish’s would start the motors, and it was with a sad heart that I prepared the evening meal of scrambled eggs and tea.

It was late at night when the storm hit us. As everyone remembers the hurricane of that date, I need say little about it. At first the rain was so heavy that we were beaten down until we could hear the wild waves beneath us. After that came the wind. It blew away some of our clothing, and at times whirled us about until at last it was necessary to tie ourselves to our seats.

Incredible as it may sound, that situation lasted for two full days. And as it now looked as though years later the
Snark
might be discovered in some remote part of the world, I felt it my duty to keep a record of our strange journey through the air.

I reproduce here one day only, as the other was the same. It follows:

“Monday, 8
A.M.
Wind still blowing. Breakfast of scrambled eggs and tea.

“Monday, 12 Noon. Wind still blowing. Lunch of scrambled eggs and tea.

“Monday, 6
P.M.
Wind still blowing. Supper of scrambled eggs and tea.”

Tish’s knitting had fortunately escaped the deluge, and she completed a pair of socks during this time. By constant bailing Aggie and I had somewhat reduced our water content; but it was a dreary interval, and Aggie’s nerves began to suffer. The limited diet of eggs was not too good for her, and when on the second day we sighted an iceberg she at once demanded to be lowered to it.

“At least it is goig sobewhere,” she said bitterly. “Ad I’d like to bet it dever heard of a scrabbled egg.”

Dawn of the third day found us still in this painful situation, and fast in the clouds and fog. But that day the storm abated somewhat, and later on Tish glanced up from her knitting and gazed steadily ahead.

“I do not wish to encourage any false hopes,” she said. “But there is a ship not far away. It is just possible that we are saved.”

W
HAT FOLLOWED IS ALMOST
certainly the origin of the published statement that a certain British liner was attacked at sea on that date by a Russian dirigible, flying the red flag; and the answer to the press reports, that the attack was evidently intended to cause an international situation and prevent the Coronation.

How preposterous! I can only state the facts, but they certainly speak for themselves.

In the first place, having sighted the ship, the fog closed in again and we almost immediately lost it. There was, however, a chance that we would pass near or even over it, and it was Tish’s idea that in the latter case we anchor ourselves to it if possible. For this purpose we used all four of our landing ropes, fastening our largest hooks to them, and then dropping them over the side.