with the night mail a story of 2000 ad

7/26/2019 With the Night Mail a Story of 2000 AD

1/179

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3/179


4/179

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7/179

ILLU

STRATIONS

A man with a ghastly scarlet head

follows,

shouting that he must go

back and build up his Ray F ron ti sp

i

ec

e

FOLLOWINGPAGE Slides like a lost soul down th at

pitiless ladder of light,

and the

Atlantic takes her 31

TheStor

m

39

I

ve

asked him to teaon

Friday 58


8/179


9/179

W

I TH THE NIGHT

A

S

T

O

R

Y OF

2000 A

.

D

.


10/179


11/179

W

i

th the

N

i

g

h

t M

a

i l

A

T

NINEO

clock of a gusty winter night

I stood on the lower stages of one of

the G. P. O. outward mail towers. My

purpose was a run to

uebec in Postal

Pa

cket 1

62 or such other as may be

appointed : and the Postmaster- General

himsel

f countersigned the order. This

talisman O

pened all doors,

even those in

the despatching- caisson at the foot of the

tower, where they were delivering the sortedContinental mail . The bags lay packed

close as herrings in the long gray under

bodies which our G . P.0

. stil l calls9

coaches.

Five such coaches were filledas I watched

,

and were shot up the

guides to be locked on to their waiting

[

3

]


12/179


13/179

WITH THE NIGHT MAIL

packets three hundred feet nearer the

stars .

From the despatching-caisson I was con

ducted by a cour teous and wonderfully

learnedO

fficial M r . L. L. Geary,

Second

Despatcher of the Western Route to the

Captains Room(

this wakes an echo of old

romance)

,

where the mai l captains come

on for their turn Of duty. He

introduces

me to the Captai

n of 162

CaptainP

ur

na

l

l

,

and his relief,

Captain Hodgson.

The one is small and dark;

the other large

and red;

but each has the brooding sheathed

glance characteristic of eagles and aron

a

u

t

s

. You can see it in the pictures of our

racing professionals,

from L.V

.

B

autsch

to little AdaVVa rr le

i

g

h that fathomless

abstraction Of eyes habitually turnedthrough naked space.

O

n

the notice-board in the Captai

ns

Room

the pulsing arrows Of some twenty

[

4

1


14/179


15/179

WITH THE NIGHT MAIL

indicators register,

degree by geographical

degree,

the progress of as many homeward

bound packets . The word Cape rises

across the face Of a dia l ;

a gong strikes

the SouthAfrican mid-weekly mail is in at

the Highgate Receiving Towers That is

a ll. It reminds one comically of the

traitorous l ittle be ll which in pigeon

fanciers lofts notifies the return of a homer.

Time for us to be on the move, saysCaptainP

urna l l

,

and we are shot up by the

passenger- lift to the top of the despatch

towers . Our coach will lock on when it

is fil led and the clerks are aboard .

No.1

6

2

waits for us in SlipE of the

topmost st a

ge. The great curve Of her

back shines frostily under the lights,

and

some minute alteration of trim makes herrock a little in her holding- down slips .

CaptainPurna

l l

frowns and dives inside.

Hissing softly,

1

62

comes to rest as level

[

5

]


16/179


17/179

WITH THE NIGHT MAIL

as a rule. From herNorthAtlanticWinter

nose- cap (

worn bright as diamond with

boring through uncounted leagues of hail,

snow,

and ice)

to the inset of her three

built- out propeller- shafts is some two hun

dred and forty feet. Her extreme diameter,

carried well forward,

is thirty- seven . Con

trast this with the n i ne hundred by ninety

fi

v

e

of any crack liner and you will realize

the power that must dr ive a hull throughall weathers at more than the emergency

speed of the Cyclonic

The eye detects no J

OIII

t

in her skin

plating save the sweeping hair - crack ofthe bow-rudder M

a

g

n

i

ac

s

rudder that

assured us the dominion Of the unstable air

and left its inventor penniless and half

blind.

I

t

is calculated toC

a s

t

e l

l

i

s

gullwing curve. Raise a few feet of that all

but invisible plate three- eighths of an inch

and she will yaw five miles to port or star

[

6

]


18/179


19/179

WITH THE NIGHT MAIL

board ere she is under control again . Give

her full helm and she returns on her track

like a whip - lash . Cant the whole for

ward a touch on the wheel will s u ffice

and she sweeps at your good direction

up or dow

n. Open the complete c ircle

and she presents to the air a mushroom

head that will bring her up all standing

within a half mile.

Yes, says Captain Hodgson, answering my thought

,

Castelli thought hed

dis

covered the secretOf controlling a

roplanes

when he d only found out how to s teer

dirigible balloons.

M

a

g

n

i

a

c invented hisrudder to help war- boats ram each other

;

and war went out of fashion andMa

g

n

i

a

c

he went out of his mind because he said

he couldn

t

serve his country any more.

I wonder if any of us ever know what

we re

really doing.

If you want to see the coach locked

[

7

]


20/179


21/179

WITH THE NIGHT MAIL

youd

better go aboard. It s due now,

saysMr

. Geary. I enter through the door

amidships . There is nothing here for dis

play. The inner skin Of

the gas- tanks

comes down to within a foo

t or two Of my

head and turns over just short of the turn

of the bilges . Liners and yachts disguise

their tanks with decoration,

but the G. P.0

.

serves them raw under a lick of grayOffi

cial

paint. The inner skin shuts off fifty feetof the bow and as much of the stern

,

but

the bow- bulkhead is recessed for the l ift

shunting apparatus as the stem is pierced

for the shaft-tunnels.

The engine-

room liesalmost amidships . Forward of it

,

extend

ing tothe

turn of the bow tanks,

i s a n

aperture a bottomless hatch at present

into which our coach will be locked.

One looks down over the coamings three

hundred feet to the despatching- caisson

whence voices boom upward. The light

[

8

]


22/179


23/179

WITH THE NIGHT MAIL

bel

ow is obscured to a sound of thunder,

as our coach rises on its guides . It

enlarges

rapidly from a postagestamp to a playing

card;

to a punt and last a pontoon . The

two clerks,

i

ts

crew,

do not even look up as

it comes into place. The

uebec letters

fly under their fingers and leap into the

do

cketed racks,

while both captains and

M

r

. Geary satisfy themselves that the coach

is locked home. A clerk passes the waybill over the hatch- coaming. Captain

Purna

l l thumb- marks and passes it tohIr

.

G

eary. Receipt has been given and taken.

Pleasant run,

says Mr. Geary, and disappears through the doorwhich

a

foot

high pneumatic compressor locks after

him.

A

-

ah

sighs the compressor released.

Our holding- down clips part with a tang .

We

are clear.

Captain Hodgson opens the great colloid

[

9

]


24/179


25/179

WITH THE NIGHTDIAIL

underbody-porthole through which I watch

million- lighted London slide eastward as

the gale gets hold of us . The first of the

low winter clouds cuts O

ff the well-known

view and darkens Middlesex.O

n

the

south edge of it I can see a posta

l packet s

light ploughing through the white fleece.

For an Instant she gleams l ike a star ere

she drops towardt

h

e

Highgate Receiving

Towers. The B ombay Mail, saysCaptain Hodgson

,

and looks at his watch . She s forty minutes late.

What s o u r l e vel?

I ask.

Four thousand. Aren

t you comingup on the brid

g

e?

The bridge(

let us ever bless the G. P. O .

as a repository of ancientest tradition

)

is represented by a View of CaptainHodgson s legs where he stands on the

control platform that runs thwartships

overhead. The bow colloid is unshuttered

[

1

0

]


26/179


27/179

WITH THE NIGHT MAIL

and Captain P

u

r

na

l l

,

one hand on the wheel,

is feeling for a fair s lant. The

dial shows fee t.

It s steep to- night,

he mu tters,

as

t ier on t ier of c lou

d drops under. We

generally pick up an easterly draught

below three thousand at this time o the

year. I hate slathering through fluff.

SO

does VanC

u

tsem .

Lo o k a t h i m

huntin for a slant says Captain Hodgson .

Afog- light breaks cloud a hundred fathoms

below. The An

twerp Nig

ht Mail makes

h e r signal and rises between two racing

clouds far to port, her flanks blood-red inthe glare of Sheerness Double Light. The

gale will have us over the North Sea

in ha lf an hour,

but CaptainPu

rn a

l l lets

her go composedly nos ing to e very pointof the compass as she rises .

Five thousand six,

six thousand e ight

hundred the dip- dial reads ere we find

1

1

l


28/179


29/179

WITH THE NIGHT MAIL

the eas

ter

ly drift

,

heralded by a

fl

urry ofsnow at the thousand-fathom level.

Cap

ta inPurna

l l rings up the engines and keys

downthe governor on the switch before him .

There is no sense in urging machinery when

[Eolus himself gives you good knots for

nothing. We are away in earnest now

our nose notched home on our chosen star.

At this level the lower clouds are laid out

all neatly combed by the dry fingers of theEast. Below that again is the strong

westerly blow through which we rose .

Overhead,

a film of southerly drifting mist

draws a theatrica l gauze across thefi

r

m

a

ment. The moonlight turns the lower

strata to silverwithout a stain except where

our shadow underruns us . Bristoland Car

diff Double Lights(

those statelily inclinedbeams over

S

e

v

e

rn

m

o

u

t

h

)

are dead ahead

o f u s;

for we keep the Southern Winter

Route. Coventry Central,

the pivot of the

[

1

2

]


30/179


31/179

W

ITH THEN

IG

HT MAIL

English system,

stabs upward once in ten

seconds its spear of diamond light to the

north;

and a point or two off our starboard

bow The Leek,

the great cloud-breaker of

Saint David s Head,

swings its unm ista

k

able green beam twenty-fiv

e degrees each

way. There must be half a mile of fluff

over it in this weather,

but it does not af

fect

The Leek.

Our planet s overlighted if anything,

says Captain Purna

l l at the wheel ,

as

Cardiff- Bristol slides under.

I remember

the old days of common white verticals

that

u

d

show two or three thousand feetup in a mist

,

if you knew where to look for em.

I

n

really fluffy weather they might

as well have been under your hat. One

could get lost coming home then, an

havesome fun. Now

,

it5

like driving down

Piccadilly.

H

e

points to the pillars of light where the

[

1

3

]


32/179


33/179

WITH THE NIG

HTMAIL

cloud-breakers bore through the c loud

floor. W

e

see nothing of England s o u t

lines:

onlya

white pavement pierced in all

directions by these manholes of variously

coloured fire Holy Island s white and

red St. Bee s interrupted white,

and so

on a s f a r a s the eye can reach . Blessed

be Sargent,

Ahrens,

and the Dubois

brothers,

who invented the cloud-breakers

Of the world whereby we travel in security Are you going to lift for The Sham

rock?

asks Captain Hodgson. Cork

Light(

green,

fixed)

enlarges as we rush to

it. CaptainP

u

r

na

l l

nods . There is heavytraffic hereabouts the cloud-bank beneath

us is streaked with running fissures offlame

where the At lantic boats are hurrying

L

o

n

d

on

w

a

r

d

just clear of the fluff.

Mailpackets are supposed

,

under the Conference

rules,

to have thefi v

e

-thousand-foot lanes

to themselves,

but the foreigner in a hurry

[

1

4

]


34/179


35/179

WITH THE NI GHT MAIL

is apt to take l iberties with English air. No.

1

62

lifts to a long-drawn wail of the

breeze in the fore-flan

g

e

of the rudder and

we make Valencia(

white,

green,

white)

at a safe feet ,

dipping our beam to an

incoming Washington packet.

There i s no c loud on the Atlantic,

and

faint streaks of cream round Dingle BayS

how

where the driven seas h ammer the coast. A

big S. A. T. A. liner(

S

o

c

i

t A

non

y

m

e

d

es

T

r

a

ns

p

ort

s

A

m

ens

)

is diving and lifting

half a mile below us in search of some break

in the solid west wind. Lower still lies a

disabled Dane: she is telling the liner all about it in International. Our General

Communication dial has caught her talk

and begins to eavesdrop. CaptainHodg

son makesa motion to shutit off but checkshimself. Perhaps you d like to listen

,

he

says .

Argol of St. Thomas,

the Dane

[

1

5

]

x

i

i

)

?


36/179


37/179

WITH T H E N I GHT MAIL

whimpers. Report owners three starboard

shaft collar-bearings fused. Can make

Flores as we are ,

but impossible further.

Shall we buy spares at FayalP

The liner acknowledges and recommends

inverting the bearings . The Argo l

answers thatS

h

e

has already done so with

out e f

fect,

and begins to relieve her mind

about cheap German enamels for collar

bearings . The Frenchman assents cordially,cries

C

o

u

r

a

g

e

,

m

o

n a

m

i

,

and switcheso

fl

.

Their lights sink under the curve of the

ocean.

That

s one of Lundt B

l

e

a

m

ers

s

boats,

says Captain Hodgson. Serves em right for putting German compos in

their thrust-blocks .S

h

e

won t be in Fayal

to-

night

By the way, wouldn

t

you liketo look round the engine-roomP

I have been waiting eagerly for thisinv

i

ta

t

i

on

and I follow Captain Hodgson from

[

1

6

]


38/179


39/179

WITH THE NIGHT MAIL

the control- platform,

stooping low to avoid

the bulge of the tanks . We

know that

Fle

u

r

y

s

gas can lift anything,

as the world

famous trials of 8

9

showed,

but its almost

indefinite powers of expansion necessitate

vast tank room. Even in this thin air the

lift-shunts are busy taking out one-third of

its normal l ift,

and stil l 1

62

must be

checked by an occasionaldowndra

w of the

rudder or our flight would become a climbto the stars . CaptainPurn

a

l l prefers an

o

ve

r

l

i

f

t

ed

to anunde

r l

i

fted ship;

but no two

captains trim ship alike. When I take

the bridge,

says Captain Hodgson,

you

11

see me shunt forty per cent.

of the lift out of

the gas and run her on the upper rudder.

With a swoop upwards instead of a swoop

downwards, a s you say.

Either way will do.

Its

only habit. Watch our dip- dial Tim

fetches her down once every thirtyknots as

regularly as breathing.

[

1

7

l


40/179


41/179

WITH THE NIGHT MAIL

So is it shown on the dip- dial. For five

or six minutes the arrow creeps from

to There is the faints

z

g

ee

of the

rudder,

and back slidesthe arrow to on

a falling slant of ten orfifteen knots . In heavy weather you jockey her with

the screws as well,

says Capta

inHodgson,

and,

unclipping the jointed bar which di

vides the engine-room from the bare deck,

he leads me on to the floor.

He

re

we findFl eur

y

s

Paradox of the

Bulkheaded Vacuum which we accept

now without thought literally in full blast.

The three engines areH. T. T. assistedvacuo Fleury turbines running from

to the Limit that is to say ,

up to the

point when the blades make the air bell

cut out a vacuum for themselves prec

i

s

e

l

y

as over-driven marine propellers used

to do.1

62

s Limit is low on account of the

smalls ize of her nine screws,

which,

though

[

1

8

]


42/179


43/179

WITH THE NIGHT MAIL

handier than the o ld collo idT

h

e lu

sso

n

s

,

bell sooner. The midship

s

engine,

gener

ally used as a reinforce,

i s not runn

l n

g

;

so

the port and starboard turbine vacuum

chambers draw direct into the return-mains .

The turbines whistle reflec

t

i

v

e

l

y

. From

the low-arched expansion- tanks on either

s ide the valves descend pil larwise to the

turbine- chests,

and thence the obedient gas

whirls through the spirals of blades witha force that would whip the teeth out of a

power- saw.

Behind,

is its own pressure

held in leash or spurred on by the lift

shunts ; before it, the vacuum whereFl eury

s

Ray dances in violet - green bands and

whirledt

ur

b

i l l i

on s

of flame. The jointed

U

tubes of the vacuum- chamber are

pressure-

tempered colloid(

no glass wouldendure the strain for an instant

)

and a un ior

engineer with tinted spectacles watches the

Ray intently.

It is the very heart of the

[

1

9

]

(

D

I

U

A

H

U


44/179


45/179

WITH THE NIGHT MAIL

machinea

mystery to this day. Even

Fleury who begat it and,

unlikeMa

g

n

i

ac

,

died a multi- millionaire,

could not explain

how the restless little imp shuddering in the

U

- tube can,

in the fractional fraction of a

second,

strike the furious b last of gas

into a chill grayish-green liquid that drains

(

you can hear it trickle)

from the far end

of the vacuum through the eduction-pipes

and the mains back to the bilges . Here itreturns to its gaseous

,

one had a lmost

written sagacious,

state and climbs to work

afresh . Bilge-tank,

upper tank,

dorsal

tank, expansion-chamber, vacuum, mainreturn

(

as a liquid)

,

and bilge-tank once

more is the ordained cycle. F le

u

r

y

s

Ray

sees to that;

and the engineer with the tinted

spectacles sees toF

l

e

ur

y

s

Ray.

If a speckof o il

,

if e

ven

the natural grease of the

human finger touch the hooded terminals

F

l

e

u

r

y

s

Ray will win k and disappear and

[

20

1


46/179


47/179

WITH THE NIGHT MAIL

must be l

aboriously built up again. T

hismeans half a day s work for all hands and an

expense of one hundred and seventy- odd

pounds to the G. P. O. for radium- salts and

sucht

r

i

fles

.

Now look at our thrust- collars. You

won t find much German compo there .

Full-jewelled,

you see,

says CaptainHo

d

g

son a s the engineer shunts open the top of a

ca

p

. Our shaft-bearings are C. M. C.(

Commer

c

i

a

l

Minerals Company)

stones,

ground

with as much care as the lens of a telescope.

They cost

3

7

apiece. So far we have not

arrived at their term of life.

These bearings came from No. which tookthem

over from the old Dominion of Light,

which had them o

u

t

of the wreck of the

Perseus aroplane in the years when menstill flew linen kites over thorium engines

They are a shining reproof to all low-grade

German ruby enamels,

s

o

-called boort

[

9

1

l


48/179


49/179

WITH THE NIGHT MAIL

facings,

and the dangerous and un

s

a

t

i

s

factory alumina compounds which please

dividend-hunting owners and turn skippers

crazy.

The rudder-gear and the gas lift-shunt,

seated side by side under the engine-room

dials,

are the only machines in visible mo

tion. The former sighs from time to time

as the oil plunger rises and falls half an inch.

The latter, cased and guarded like the U

- tube af t,

exh ibits another Fleury Ray,

but inverted and more green than violet.

Its function is to S

hunt the l ift out of the

gas, and this it will do without watching.

Tha t i s a l l A tiny pump-rod wheezing

and whining to itself beside a sputtering

green lamp. A hundred and fifty feet aft

down the fl

at-

topped tunnel of the tanks aviolet light

,

restless and irresolute. Between

the two,

three white- painted turbine-trunks,

l ike eel-baskets laid on their side,

accentuate

29

l


50/179


51/179

WITH THE NIGHT MAIL

the empty perspectives.

You can hear thetrickle of the liquefied gas flowing from the

vacuum into the bilge-tanks and the soft

g

luck

-

g

l

o

c

k

ofg

as

- locks closing as Captain

P

urna

l

l

brings 162 down by the head.

The hum of the turbines and the boom of

the air on our skin is no more than a cotton

wool wrapping to the universal stillness .

And we are running an eighteen- second mile.

I peer from the fore end of the engineroom over the hatch- coamings into the coach .

The mail - clerks are sorting the Winnipeg,

Calgary,

and MedicineHat bags: but there

is a pack of cards ready on the table.

Suddenly a bell thrills;

the engineers run

to the turbine-valves and stand by;

but

the s pectacled slave of the Ray in the

U

-

tube never lifts his head.

He must watchwhere he is . W

e

are hard- braked andg

o

ing astern;

there is language from the

control- platform.

[

9

3

l


52/179


53/179


Tim

s sparking badly about something,

says theunru

ffl

e

d

CaptainHodgson . Let s

look.

CaptainPurna l l is not the suave man we

left ha lf an hour s ince,

but the embodied

authority of theG. P. O. AheadOfus floats

an ancient,

aluminum- patched,

twin-screw

tramp of the dingiest,

with no more right to

the foot lane than has a horse - cart to

a modern town . She carries an obsolete barbette conning-tower

a

s ix- foot affair

with railed platform forward and our

warning beam plays on the top of it as a

policeman

s lantern flashes on the areasneak. Like a sneak- thief

,

too,

emerges a

shock-headed navigator in his shirt- sleeves .

CaptainP

u

rn

a

l

l

wrenches open the colloid to

talk with him man to man.

There aretimes when Science does not satisfy.

What under the stars are you doing

here,

you skyscraping chimney- sweep

l

2

4

l


54/179


55/179

WITH THE NIG

HT MAIL

he shouts a s we two drift side by side. D

oyou know this i s a Mail- lane?

You call

yourself a sailor ,

sir?

You ain t fit to

peddle toy balloons to anEsquimaux. Your

name and number Report and get down,

andbe

Iv

e

been blown up once,

the shock

headed man cries,

hoarsely,

as a dog barking. I don t care two flips of a contact for

anythingy

ou can do,P

os

t

e

y

.

Don t y o u ,

sir?

But I l l make you

care. I 11 have you towed stern first to

Disko and broke up. You can t recover

insurance if you

r

e broke for obstruction.

Do you understandthat

?

Then the stranger bellows : Look at my

propellers

There8

been awu l l i-wa

down

under that has knocked us into umbrellaframes

W

e

v

e

b

e

e

n

blown up about forty

thousand feet We re all one conjuror s

watch inside

Mymate s arms

broke;

my

9 5

l


56/179


57/179

WITH THE NIGHT MAIL

engineer s head5

cut open;

my Ray went

out when the engines smashed;

and

and for pity s sake give me my

height,

Capta

in

We doubt we re drop

ping.

Six thousand eight hundred. Can you

hold it CaptainPurn a l l overlooks allin

s

u

l

ts

,

and leans half out of the colloid,

staring and s

nufli n

g

. The stranger leaks

pungently. We ought to blow into St.

J

ohn s

with luck.We

re

trying to plug the fore

tank now,

but she 3 simply whistling it

away,

her captain wails.

Shes s

mk

i

n

g

like a log,

P

ur

n

a

l l

in an undertone. Call up the

Banks Mark Boat,

George. Our dip- dial

shows that we, keeping abreast the tramp,have dropped five hundred feet the last few

says Captain

minutes.

CaptainP

u

r

na

l l presses a switch and our

[

9

6

]


58/179


59/179

WITH THE NIGHT MAIL

signal beam begins to swing through the

night,

twizzling spokes of light across

infinity. That 11fetch something

,

he says,

while

C

a

p

ta

inHo

d

g

s

on

watches the General Com

mun

i

c

at

or

.

H e

has cal led up the North

Banks Mark Boat,

a few hundred miles

west,

and is reporting the case.

I ll stand by you

,

Captain Purna

l

l

roars

to the lonefigure on the conning- tower.

Is it as bad as thatP comes the answer. She is n t insured

,

she s mine.

Might have guessed as much,

mutters

Hodgson.

Owner

s risk is the worst riskof a l l

Can t I fetch St. J ohn s not e

ven

with this breezeP the voice quavers .

Stand by to abandon ship.

Ha

ve n

t

youa

n

y

lift in you,

fore or aftP

Nothing but the midship tanks and

theyre

none too tight. You see,

my Ray

[

2

7

]


60/179


61/179

WITH THE NIGHT MAIL

gave out and he coughs in the reek of

the escaping gas. You poor devil

This does not reach

our friend. What does the Mark Boat

say,

George?

Wants to know if theres

any danger to

traffic. Says shes

in a bit of weather her

self and can t quit station . Iv

e

turned in a

General Call,

soev

e

n

if they don t see our

beam some one s bound to help

or else wemust. Shall I clear our slings . Ho ld on

He

re we are

A Planet liner,

too

Shel l

be up in a tick

Tell her to have her slings ready,

crieshis brother captain . There won t be

much time to spare Tie up your

mate,

he roars to the tramp.

My mate

s

al l right.

It

s

my engineer.

He5

gone crazy.

Shunt the lift out of him with a spanner.

Hurry

[

9 8

l


62/179


63/179

WITH THE NIGHT MAIL

But I can make St. J ohn s i f y o u l l

stand by.

You 11 make the deep,

wet Atlantic

in twenty minutes . You re less thanfi ft

y

eight hundred now. Get your papers .

A Planet liner,

east bound,

heave s u p

in a superb spiral and takes the air of us

humming. He

r underbody colloid is open

and her transporter-slings hang down l ike

tentacles.W

e shut off our beam as sheadjusts herself steering to a hair over

the tramp s conning- tower. The mate

comes up,

his arm strapped to his side,

an d

stumbles into the cradle.

A man with aghastly scarlet head follows

,

shouting that

he mus t go ba c k a nd bui ld up h is Ra y.

Themate assures him that he wi llfind a nice

new Ray al l ready in the liner

s engine-

room.

The bandaged head goes up wagging ex

c

i

te

d

l

y

.

A youth and a woman follow.

The l iner cheers hollowly above us,

and

[

29

]


64/179


65/179

WITH THE NIGHT MAIL

we see the passenger s faces at the sa loon

colloid.

That s a good g ir l. What s the fool

waiting for now?

says CaptainPur

na l l .

The skipper comes up,

stil l appealing to us

to stand by and see him fetch St.J

ohn s.

He dives below and returns at which we

little human beings in thevoid cheer louder

than e

ver with the ship s kitten.U

p

fly the liner s hissing s lings ; her underbody cr

a

shes home and she hurtles away

again. The dialshows less than fee t.

The Mark B oat sig

nals we must at

tend to the derelict, now whistling her deathsong

,

as she falls beneath us in long sick

zigzags.

K eep our beam on her and send out a

General Warning,

says CaptainP

u

rn

a

l

l

,

fol lowing her down .

There is no need. Not a l iner in a ir

but knows the meaning of that vertical

[

30

]


66/179


67/179

S LIDES LIKE A LOS

T S

OUL DO

WN THAT PIT I LE

SS

LAD DER OF L IGHT,

AND TH

E ATLANTIC TAKES

9 ,

H

E

R


68/179


69/179

WITH THE NIGHT MAIL

beam and gives us and our quarry a

wide berth . But she l l drown in the water

,

won t

sheP I ask.Not always

,

i s his answer . I ve

known a derelict up

-end and sift her

engines out of herself and flicker round

the Lower Lanes for three weeks on her

forward tanks only. We 11 run no risks .

Pith her, George, and look sharp. There sweather ahead.

Captain Hodgson opens the underbody

colloid,

swings the heavy pithing- iron out

of its rack which in liners i s generally cased as a settee

,

and at two hundred

feet releases the catch.W

e hear the whir

of the crescent-shaped arms opening as

they descend.

The derelict

s forehead ispunched in

,

starred across,

and rent

diagonally. She falls stern first

,

our beam

upon her;

slides like a lost sou l down

[

3

1

]


70/179


71/179

WITH THE NIGHT MAIL

that pitiless ladder of l ight,

and theAt

lantic takes her.

A filthy business,

says Hodgson. I

wonder what it must have been like in the

old days .

The thought had crossed my mind too .

What if that wavering carcass hadbeen

filled with International-speaking men of al l

the Internationalities,

each one of them

taught(

t

h

a

t is the horror of it)

that afterdeath he would very possibly go forever to

unspeakable torment?

And not half a century since,

we(

one

knows now that we are only our fathersreenlarged upon the earth

)

,

w

e

,

I say,

ripped

and rammed and pithed to admiration .

He

r

e

Tim,

from the control-platform,

shouts that we are to get into ourin

fl

ator

s

and to bring him his at once.

We

hurry into the heavy rubber suits

and the engineers are already dressed and

l

3

9

l


72/179


73/179

WITH THE NIGHT MAIL

inflate at the air- pump taps . G. P. O. in

fl

a

t

o

rs

are thrice as thick as a racing man s

flickers,

and chafe abominably under the

armpits . George takes the wheel until

Tim has blown himself up to the extreme

of rotundity. Ify

o

ukicked him off the c.

p.

to the deck he would bounce back. But it

is 1

62

that will do the kicking. The Mark Boat s mad stark ravin

crazy, he snorts, returning to command .

She says there 5 a bad blow-outahead and

wants me to pul l over to Greenland. I11

see

her pithed first

W

e

wasted an hour and a

quarter over thatdead duck down under, andnowI m expected to go

r

u

bb

i

n my back all

round the Pole. What does she think a

postal packets

made of?

Gummed silk?

Tell her we

re coming on straight, George.

George bu

ckles him into the Frame and

switches on the Direct Control. Nowum

der Tim s left toe lies the port-engineAo

33

l


74/179


75/179


c

e

l

e

ra

tor

;

under his left heel the Reverse,

and so with the other foot. The lift-shunt

stops stand out on the rim of the steering

wheel where thefingers of his left hand can

play on them. At h is right hand is the mid

ships engine lever ready to be thrown into

gear at a moment s notice. He leans for

ward in his belt,

eyes glued to the colloid,

and one ear cocked toward the General

Communicator. Henceforth h e i s t h estrength and direction of through

whatever may befall.

The BanksMark Boat is reel ing out pages

of A. B. C. Directions to the tra

ff

ic atlarge

. We

are to secure all loose objects;

hood up our Fleury Rays;

and on noa

c

count to attempt to clear snow from our

conning-

towers ti ll the weather abates.

U

nder-powered craft,

we are told,

can ascend

to the l imit of their lift,

mail-packets to

look out for them accordingly;

the lower

l

34

l


76/179


77/179

WITH THE NIG

HT MAIL

lanes westward are pitting very badly,

with frequent blow-outs,

vortices,

later

a ls,

etc.

Still the c learda

rk

h

o

l

ds

up unblemished.

The only warning is the electric skin-tension

(

I feel as though I were a lace- maker s p i l

low)

and an irritability which the gibbering

of the General Communicator increases

almost to hysteria .

W

e have made eight thousand feet sincewe pithed the tramp and our turbines are

givingus

an honest two hundred and ten

knots.

Very far to the west an elongated blurof red

,

low down,

shows us theNorth Banks

Mark Boat. There are specks offire round

her rising and falling bewildered planets

about an unstable sun

helpless shippinghanging on to her light

for company s sake.

No wonder she could not quit station .

SheWarns us to look out for the back

[

3

5

]


78/179


79/179

WITH THE NIGHT MAIL

wash of the bad

vortex in which

(

her beam

shows it)

she ise

ve

n

nowreeling.

The pits of gloom about us begin to fill

with very faintly luminous films wreath

in

g

and uneasy shapes . One forms itself

into a globe of paleflamethatwaits shivering

with eagerness till we sweep by. It leaps

monstrously across the blackness,

alights on

the precise tip of our nose,

pirouettes there

an instant, a n d swings off. Our roaringbow sinks

as

though that light were lead

sinks and recovers to lurch and stumble

again beneath the next blow- out. Tim s

fingers on the lift- shunt strike chords ofnumbers

so on;

for he is running by his tanks only,

lifting or lowering her against the uneasy

air.

All three engines are at work, for thesooner we have skated over this thin ice the

better. Higher we dare not go. The whole

upper vau lt is charged with pale krypton

[

3

6

]


80/179


81/179

W

ITH THE NIGHT MAIL

vapours,

which our skin friction may excite

to unholy manifestations. Between the

upper and the lower levels and

hints the Mark B oat we may per

haps bolt through if Our bow

clothes itself in blue flame and fa l ls like

a

sword. No human skil l can keep pace

with the changing tensions . A vortex has

us by the beak and we dive down a two

thousand-foot slant at an angle(

the dip- dia land my bouncing body record it

)

of thirty

five. Our turbines scream shrilly;

the pro

p

e

l

le

r

s

cannot bite on the thin air;

Tim

shunts the lift out offive tanks at once andby sheer weight drives her

b

u

l l

e

t

w

i

se

through the maelstrom ti ll she cushions

w i t h a j a r o n a nu

p

-gust,

three thousand

feet below.

N

o

w

wev

e

done it,

says George in my

ear. Our skin-friction that last slide,

has

played Old Harry with the tensions Look

[

37

l


82/179


83/179

WITH THE NIGHT MAIL

out for laterals,

Tim,

she 11 want some

holding.

Iv

e

got her,

is the answer. Come

u

p

,

old woman .

She comes up nobly,

but the laterals buf

fet her left and right like the pinions ofa

n

gry angels. Sh e i s j olted off her course

in four ways at once ,

and cuffed into

place again,

only to b e swung aside and

dropped into a ne w chaos.W

e arenever without a corp

o

sant grin

nin

g on

our bows or rol l ing hea d over heels from

nose to midships,

and to the crackle of

electricity around and within us is addedonce or twice the rattle of hai l hail that

willnever fall on any sea. Slow we must

or we may break our back,

pitch-polin

g.

Air

s a perfec tly elastic fl

uid,

roarsGeorge abovethe tumult. Aboutas el

a

stic

as a head sea off theF

a

st

n

et

,

a int itP

H

e is less than just to the good element.

[

38

]


84/179


85/179

T

HE STORM


86/179


87/179


Ifone

intrudes on the Heavens when they

are balancing theirvolt-accounts;

if one dis

t

u

r

bs

theHigh Gods market-rates by hurl

ing st

eel hulls at ninety knotsa

crosst

r

e

m

b

l in

g

l

y

adjusted electric tensions,

one must not

complain of any rudeness in the reception .

Timme

t

it with an unmoved countenance,

one cor

ner of his under lip caught up on a

tooth,

his eyes fleeting into the blackness

t

w

e

n

t

v

m

i les ahead, and the fierce sparksflying from his knuckles at every turn of the

hand. Now and again he shook his head

to clear the sweat trickling from his eye

brows, and it was then that George, watching his chance

,

would slide down the l ife

rail and swab his face quickly with a big

red handkerchief. I ne

ve

r imagined that

a human being could so continuously labourand so collectedly think as did Tim through

thatHell s half hour when the flurry was at

its worst.W

e

were dragged hither and

[

39

]


88/179


89/179

WITH TIIE NIGHT MAIL

yon by warm or frozen suctions,

belched up

on the tops of wu l l i- was,

spun down by

vortices and clubbed aside by laterals u

nder

a dizzying rush of stars in the company of a

drunken moon . I heard the rushing click

of the midship- engine- lever s liding in and

out,

the low growl of the lift-shunts,

and,

louder than the yelling winds without,

the

scream of the bow-rudder gouging into any

lull that promised hold for an instant. Atlast we began to c law up on a cant

,

bow

rudder and port- propeller together;

only

the nicest balancing of tanks saved us

from spinning like the ri

fl

e

-bullet of theold days .

W

e

v

e

got to hitch to windward of that

Mark Boat somehow,

George cried.

There

s

no windward,

I protestedfeebly

,

where I swung shackled to a

stanchion.

How can there beP

H

e

laugh ed as we pitched into a thou

[

40

]


90/179


91/179

WITH THE NIGHT MAIL

sand foot blow- out that red man laughed

beneath his inflated hood

Look he said. We must clear those

refugees with a high lift.

The Mark Boat was below and a little to

the s ou west of us,

fluctuating in the centre

of her distraught galaxy. The air was thick

with moving lights at every

level. I take

it most of themwe

r

e

trying to lie head to wind

but, not being hydras, they failed. An undertankedM

o

g

h

r

a

b

i

boat had risen to the limit

of her l ift and,

finding no improvement,

had

dropped a couple of thousand. There she

met a superbwul l

i

-

w

a and was blown upspinning like a dead leaf. Instead of shut

ingO

ff she went astern and,

naturally,

re

bounded as from a wal l almost into theMark

Boat, whose language(

our G.

C.

took it in)was humanly simple.

If theyd

only ride it outq

uietly it ud

be better,

said George in a calm,

as we

[

4

1

l


92/179


93/179


climbed like a bat above them all . But

some skipperswi l l

navigate without enough

lift. What does thatTad-boat think she is

doing,

TimP

Pl

a

y

in

kiss in the ring,

was Tim s nu

moved reply. A Trans-Asiatic Direct liner

had found a smooth and butted into it full

power. But there was a vortex at the tail

of that smooth,

so the T. A . D . was flipped

out like a pea fromoff

afi

ngernail, brakingmadly as she fled dow

n

and al l but over

ending. Now I hope she

s

satisfied,

said Tim.

I

m

glad I

m

not a Mark BoatDo I w a nt he lp ? The C. G. dial had

caught his ear. George,

you may tellthat

gentleman with my love love,

remember,

George that I do not want help.

Whoi

s

theo

ffi

c

i

ou

s

sardine-tinP

ARimouski drogher on the lookout for

a

tow.

[

4

3

]


94/179


95/179

WITH THE NIGHT MAIL

Very kind of the Rimouski drogher.

This postal packet isn t being towed at

present.

Those droghers will go anywhere on a

chance of salvage,

George explained. We

call em kittiwakes .

A long- beaked,

bright steel ninety-footer

floated at ease for one instant within hail of

us,

her slings coiled ready for rescues,

and a

single hand in her open tower. He w a ssmoking. Surrendered to the insurrection

of the airs through which we tore our way,

he lay in absolute peace. Isaw the smoke of

his pipe ascend untroubled ere his boat dropped

,

it seemed,

like a stone in a well.

W

e

had just cleared the Mark Boat and

her disorderly neighbours when the storm

ended as suddenly as it had begun.

Ashooting- star to northward fil led the sky with

the green blink of a meteorite dissipating

itself in our atmosphere.

[

4

3

]


96/179


97/179

WITH THE NIGHT MAIL

Said George:

That may iron

out all the

tensions . Even as he spoke,

the c

on

fli

c

t

in

g

winds came to rest;

the levels filled;

the

l

atera l s died out in long easy swells;

the air

ways were smoothed beforeus

. In less than

three minutes the covey round the Mark

Boat had shipped their power- lights and

whirred awayu

pon their businesses .

W

h

at s happenedP I gasped. The

nerve- storm within and thevolt

tingle without had passed

:

myinfl

at

o

r

s

weighed like

lead. God

,

H

e knows said Captain George,

soberly.

That old shooting-

star

s skinfriction has discharged the different levels.

I

v

e seen it happen before. Phew W

h

at

a relief

We

dropped from ten to s

1

x

thousandand got rid of our clammy suits

. Tim shut

O

ff and stepped out of the Frame. The

Mark Boat was coming up behind us . He

[

44

]


98/179


99/179

WITH THE NIGHT MAIL

opened the colloid in that heavenly stillness

and mopped his face. Hello

,

Williams he cried. A degree

or two out0 station,

ain t youP

May be ,

was the answer from the

Ma rk Boat. I vehad some company

this evening.

So I noticed. Wasn t that quite a l ittle

draught?

I warned you. Why did n t you pull out round by Disko? The east -bound

packets have.

Me?

Not tillI m running aPolar con

s

u

mp

t

i

v

e

s

Sanatorium boat.

Iwas squinting through a colloid before you were out of

your cradle,

my son.

I d be the last man to deny i t

,

the

captain of the Mark Boat replies softly.

The way you handled her just now

I m

a pretty fair j udge of traffic in

a volt -fl

urr

y

it was a thousand revo

[

4

5

]


100/179


101/179

WITH THE NIGHT MAIL

lutions beyond anything e

ven

I

v

e e

ver

seen .

Tim s back supples visibly to this oiling.

Captain George on the c. p. winks and points

to the portrait of a s ingularly attractive

maiden pinned up on Tim s telescope

bracket above the steering- wheel.

I see. Wholly and entirely do I see

There is some talk overhead of coming3round to tea on Friday, a brief report of

the derelict s fate,

and Tim volunteers as he

descends:

For an A. B. C. man young

Williams

is less of a high- tension fool

than some Were you thin king oftaking her on

,

George?

Then I 11

just

have a look round that port -thrust

seems to me its

a trifle warm and we 11

jog along.

The Mark Boat hums off j oyously and

hangs herself up in her appointed eyrie.

Here she wil l stay,

a shutterless obser

[

46

]


102/179


103/179

WITH THE NIGHT MAIL

v

a

to

r

y

;

a life-

boat station;

a salvage tug;

a court of ultimate appeal - cum- meteor

o logical bureau for three hundred miles in

all directions,

tillWednesday next when her

relief sl

ides across the stars to take her buf

feted place. Her black hull ,

double con

D

ing-tower,

and ever- ready slings represent

all that remains to the planet of that odd old

word authority. She is responsible only to

theA

r

i

a

l

Board of Control the A. B. C.

of which Tim speaks sofl ipp

a

n tl

y

. But

that semi- elected,

semi-nominated body of a

fewscore persons of both sexes,

controls this

planet.

Transportation is Civilization,

our motto runs . Theoretically,

we do what

we please so long as we do not interfere with

thetraffica

nd

a

l

l

i

t

i

m

p

l

i

es

. Practically,

the

A.

B.

C

.

confirms or annuls all internationalarrangements and

,

to judg

e from its lastr

e

port,

finds our tolerant,

humorous,

lazy

little planet only too ready to sh

ift the whole

[

4

7

]


104/179


105/179

WITH THE NIGHT MAIL

burden Of private administration on its

shoulders .

I discuss this with Tim,

sipping mat

on

the c. p.

while George fans her along over

the white blur of the Banks in beautiful

upward curves of fifty miles each . The

dip- dial translates them on the tape infl ow

ing freehand.

Tim gathers up a skein of it and surveys

the last few feet, which record 162 s paththrough the volt-

fl

urr

y

.

I havent

had a fever- chart like this to

show up in five years,

he says ruefully.

A postal packet

s dip- dial records everyyard of every run . The tapes then go to

the A. B.

C

.

,

which collates and makes

composite photographs of them for the

instruction of captains.

Tim studies hisirrevocable past,

shaking his head . Hello

Here s afi f

teen

-hundred-foot

drop at eighty-fi

v

e

degrees

We must

[

48

]


106/179


107/179

WITH THE NIGHT MAIL

have been standing on our heads then,

George.

You don t say so,

George answers . I

fancied I noticed it at the time.

George may not have CaptainPurn a l l s

catlike swiftness,

but he is a ll an artist to the

tips of the broad fingers that play on the

shunt-stops . The del ic iousfl ig

h

t

- curves

come away on the tape withn

ever a waver.

The Mark Boat s vertical spindle of lightlies down to eastward

,

setting in the face of

the following stars . Westward,

where no

planet should rise,

the triple verticals of

Trinity Bay(

we keep sti ll to the Southe

rn

route)

make a low- lifting haze.W

e

seem the only thing at rest under al l the

heavens;

floating at ease till the earth s

revolution shall turn up our landingtowers .

And minute by minute our s i lent c lock

gives us a sixteen

-second mile.

[

49

]


108/179


109/179

WITH THE NIGHT MAIL

Somefine night,

saysTim.We

11be

e

ven

with that clock s Master.

Hes

coming now,

says George,

over

his shoulder.

I m chasing the night

west.

The stars ahead dim no more than if a

film of mist had been drawn underunob

served,

but the deep air-boom on our skin

changes to a joyful shout.

The dawn-gust, says T im. It11

go on to meet the Sun. Look Look

There s the dark being crammed back over

our bow

Come to the after-colloid. I 11

show you something.

The engine- room is hot and stuffy;

the

clerks in the coach are asleep,

and theSlave

of the Ray is near to fol low them. Tim

slides open the aft colloid and reveals thecurve of the world the ocean s deepe st

purple edged with fuming and intolerable

gold.

Then the Sun rises and through the

[

50

]


110/179


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WITH THE NIGHT MAIL

colloid strikes out our lamps . Tim scowls

in his face . Squirrels in a cage

,

he mutters .That

s

al l we are. Squirrels in a cage

He

s

going twice as fast as us .J

ust you

wait a fe w years,

my sh ining friend and

we 11take steps thatwill amaze you.W

e

l l

J

oshua you

Yes,

that is our dream:

to turn all earth

into theVale ofAjalon at our pleasure. Sofar

,

we can drag out the dawn to twice its

normal length in these latitudes . But some

day e

ven

on theEquator we shal l hold

theSun level in his full stride.

Now we look down on a sea thronged with

heavy tr

a

fli

c

. A big submersible breaks

water suddenly. Another and another

follow with a swash and a suck and asavage bubbl ing of relieved pressures .

The deep-sea freighters are rising to lung

up after the lon

g night,

and the leisurely

[

5

1

]


112/179


113/179

WITH THE NIGHT MAIL

ocean is all patterned with peacock s eyes

of foam.

W

e

11

lung up,

too,

saysTim,

and when

we return to the c. p.G

eorge shuts off,

the

colloids are opened,

and the fresh air sweeps

her out. There is no hurry. The old con

tracts(

they will be revised at the end of the

year)

allow twelve hours for a run which any

packet can put behind her in ten . So we

breakfast in the arms of an easterly slantwhich pushes us along at a languid twenty.

To enjoy life,

and tobacco,

begin both on

a sunny morning half a mile or so above the

dappled Atlantic cloud- belts and after a

volt-flur

r

y

which has cleared and tempered

your nerves . While we discussed the thick

en

in

g

traffic with the superiority that comes

of having a high level reserved to ourselves,we heard

(

a n d I f o r t h e first time)

the

morning hymn on a Hospital boat.

She was cloaked by a skein of ravelled fluff

5

2

1


114/179


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WITH THE NIGHT MAIL

beneath us and we caught the chant beforeshe rose into the sunlight.o

h

,

y

e

W

i

nd

s

o

f

G

o

d

,

sang the uns

een voices:

bl

ess

y

e

t

he Lor

d

P

ra

i

se H

i

m

a

nd

ma

g

n i

f

y

H

i

m

f

or

e

ver

We slidoff our caps and oin ed in . When

our shadow fell a cross her great open plat

forms theylookedup

and stretched out their

hands neighbourly while they sang. We

could see the doctors and the nurses and thewhite-button- l ike faces of the cot- patients .

She passed slowly beneath us,

heading

northward,

her hull,

wet with the dews of

the night, all ablaze in the sunshine.

Sotook she the shadow of a cloud and vanished

,

her song continuing.

0

h

,

y

e

h

ol

y

a

nd

h

u

m

b

l e

m

e

n

o

f

h

ea

r

t

,

bl

e

ss

y

e

t

h

e

L

or

d

P

r

a i

s

e

H

i

m

a

nd

m

a

g

n

i

f

y

H

i

m

f

ore

v

e

r

.

She s a public lunger or she wouldn

t

have been singing theBen ed

ici t

e

:

and shes

a Greenlander or she wouldnt

have snow

[

5

3

]


116/179


117/179

WITH THE NIGHT MAIL

blinds ov

er her colloids,

said George at

last. She l l be bound for Fre

d

e

r

ik

s

h

a

v

n

or one of the Glacier sanatoriums for a

month . If she was an accident ward she d

be hung up at the eight- thousand-foot level.

Yes consumptives .

Funny how the new things are the o ld

things. Ive

read in books,

Tim answered,

that savages used to haul their sick and

woun ded up to the tops of hills because mic

r

o

b

es

w

e

re fewer there.We

hoist em into

sterilized air for a while. Same idea. How

much do the doctors say weve

added to

the average life of a man P

Thirty years,

says George with a

twinkle in his eye. Are we going to spend em all up here

,

Tim?

Flap along, then.

Flap along.

Who

s

hinderingP the senior captain laug

hed,

as

we went in .

W

e

held a good lift to clear the coastwise

54

]


118/179


119/179

WITH THE NIGHT MAIL

and Continental shipping;

and we hadn

e

e

d

of it . Though our route is in no sense a

populated one,

there is a steady trickle of

traffic this way along. We met Hudson

Bay furriers out of the Great Preserve,

hurrying to make their departure from

Bonavista with sable and black fox for the

insatiable markets. We over- crossedKee

watin liners,

smalla

n

d cramped;

but their

captai

ns, who see no land between Trep

a s

s

y

and Blanco,

know what gold they bring

back from West Africa. Trans-Asiatic

Directs,

we met,

soberly ringing the world

round the Fiftieth Meridian at an honestseventy knots

;

and white-painted Ackroyd

Hunt fruiters out of the sout h fled

beneath us,

their ventilated hulls whistling

like Chinese kites.

Their market is in theNorth among the northern sanatoria where

you can smell their grapefruit and bananas

across the cold snows . Argentine beef

[

5 5

]


120/179


121/179

WITH THE NIGHT MAIL

boats we sighted

too

,

of enormous capacityand unlovely outline. They

,

too,

feed the

northern health stations in ice-bound ports

where submersibles dare not rise.

Yellowbellied ore -flat

s

and U

ngava

petrol- tanks punted down leisurely out of

the north like str

ings of unfrightened wild

duck. It does not pay to fly minerals

and oil a mile farther than is necessary;

but

the risks of transhipping to submersibles inthe ice- packoff Nain orHebron are so great

that these heavy freighters fly down to Hali

fax direct,

and scent the a ir as they go.

They are the biggest tramps aloft exceptthe Athabasca grain-tubs . But these last

,

now that the wheat is moved,

are busy,

over the world s shoulder,

timber- lifting in

Siberia.

We held to theSt. Lawrence(

it is astonish

ing how the old water - ways st il l pull us

children of the air)

,

and followed his broad

[

5

6

]


122/179


123/179

WITH THE NIGHT MAIL

line of black between its drifting ice blocks,

all down the Park that the wisdom of

our fathers bu t every one k n ows the

uebec run.

W

e

dropped to the Heights Receiving

Towers twenty minutes ahead of time and

there hung at ease till the YokohamaI

n

te

rm

e

d

i

ate Packet could pull out and give

us our proper slip. It was curious to watch

the action of the holding-down cl ips al l alongthe frosty river front as the boats cleared or

came to rest. A big Hamburger was leav

ing PontLevis and her crew,

unshipping the

platform railings, began to sing

Elsinore

the oldest of our chanteys . You know

it of course:

M

o

ther Ru

g

en

s tea

-

hous

e on the

B

a

lti c

Forty couple wa ltzing on thefl

oor

A

n

d

y

ou c

a

n

wa

tch

m

y

R

a

y

,

F

or I

m

u

st

g

o awa

y

A

nd dance

wi

t

h E l laS

w

e

y

n

a

t Els i

nore

l

5

7

l


124/179


125/179

WITH THE NIGHT MAIL

Then,

while they sweated home the cover

ing- plates:

N or

or

-

N

o

r

-

N or

W

e

s

t

f

romS

ourabay

a

to

t

he Ba lti c

N i net

y

knot

a

n hourto the ShawlM

o

therRug

en

s t

ea

ouse on

t

h

e

B

a

lti c

And a

dan c

e wi th

Ella S

w

e

y

n

a

t

El si nore

The clips parted with a gesture ofindig

nant dismissal,

as though

uebec,

glittering

under her snows,

were casting out these light

and unworthy lovers . Our signal came

from theHeights . Tim turned and floated

up, but surely then it was with passionate appeal that the great tower arms flung

open or did I think so because on the

upper staging a l ittle hooded figure also

opened her arms wide towards her father?>

I a

:

I

n

ten seconds the coach with its clerks

clashed down

to the receiving-caisson;

the

hostlers displaced the engineers at the idle[

5

8

]


126/179


127/179

I

V

E ASKE DHIMT

o

T

E

A

O

N F

RI

D

AY


128/179


129/179


turbines,

and Tim,

prouder of this than a ll,

introduced me to the maiden of the photo

graph on

the shelf

.

And by the way,

said he to her ,

stepping forth in sunshine

under the hat of civil l ife,

I saw young

Wi l l iams in the Mark Boat. I ve asked

him to tea on Friday.

[

5

9

]


130/179


131/179

AERIAL BOARD OF CONTROL

BULLETIN


132/179


133/179

Lig

h

t

s

No changes in Engl ish Inl and lights for week endingDec . 18 .

PL

AN

E

TARYC

OAS

TAL LIGHTS . Week endingD

ec . 1

8 .

V

erde incli ned guide-l ight changes froml

s

t

proximoto triplefl ash

green white green

i

n place ofoccult ing red as heretofore. The warning lightfor

H

armattan winds wil l be continuous verticalglare

(

white)

on all o ases of trans-S

aharan N.

E.

by E . Mai nRoutes .I

NV

ER

C

ARGIL

(

N. Z

.

)

Fromlst prox. : ext

reme south

erly

light(double red)

wi ll exhibit white beam inclined45

degrees on approach ofS

outherlyBuster . Trafficflies h igh

o

ff

this coast betweenApril andOctober .T

AB

LE BAY Devil sPeakGlare removed toSimonsberg.Traffic m

a

king Table Mountain coastwise keep alllights from Three

A

nchorBay

at least five shippinghundred feet under

,

and do not round to till beyondE . shoulderDevil

sPeak .SAN

D

H EA

D

S

LI G HT Green triple vertical marks newprivate landing-stage forBa

y

andBurma traffic onl y.S

N

AEF

E

LL J O

KUL Wh

ite occulting l ight withdrawnfor winter.

PATAGON

IA - NO summer light south C. Pilar . Th isincludesStaten Island andPortStanl ey.

C.

NAV

AR I N

uadruple fog flash(

white)

,

one minuteintervals

(

new)

.

[

61

l


134/179


135/179

AERIAL BOARD OFCONTROL

EAS

TC

APE

Fog flash

single whitewi th

single bomb.

3

0

sec

. interval s(

new)

.

M

AL

AYAN ARC H I PELAGO lights unreliable owing

c

ruptions

.

Lay from S

omerset

to Singapore direct

,

keepinghighest levels.F

or

the B

oa rd:

C

A

TT

ER

THU

N

S

r

.

J

UST I/i

g

h

t

s

.

VAN H

E

DDE

R

Week endingDec . 18 th.S

AB LE ISLAN D LAN D ING TOWERS Green freighter,

number indistinguishable,

U

p

-

ended,

and fore-

tankpierc

ed after collision,

passed 300-ft. level 2 P .M.

D

ec

.

1

5

th

. Watched to water and pithed byMarkBoat

.

N.

F.

BANKS

PostalPacket162 reportsH

a lma freighter(

Fowey St

.

John s)

abandoned,

leaking afterweather

,

46

1

5

N . 50 15 W. Crew rescued by

Planet linerAsteroi d . Watched to water and pithedby postal packet,

Dec. 14th .KE

RGUELE NM

ARKBOAT reports last cal l fromC

y

me

na

freighter(

Gayer Tong-Huk Co.)

taking waterand sinking in snow-storm

S

o

u

t

h

M

cD

o

n

a

ld Islands .No wreckage recovered. Addresses

,

etc.,

of crew at

allA

.

B

.

C.

offi

ces.

FEZZAN T. A

.

D.

freighterUlema taken ground duringHarmattan onAkakus Range.

U

nder plates strained.

Crewat Ghat where repairingDec. 13th.B

IS

CAY,

MARK BOAT reports Carducci(

V

al andin

g

ham

l ine)

sl ightly spiked in western gorge Po int de

[

6

2

]


136/179


137/179

AERIAL BOARD OFC

ONTROL

Benasque. Passengers transferredAndorra(

sam e

line)

.

BarcelonaMarkBoat salv ing cargoDec.

1

2

t

h

.

AS

CEN

S

IO

N,

MARKBOAT Wreck of unknown racingplane

,

Parden rudder,

wire- st iffenedx

ylonite vans,

andHarliss engine-seat ing

,

s ighted and salved7 20S

.

18

41

W.

D

ec .

15 th . Photos at allA.

B

.

C.

of

fices.

M

is

s ing

N0

answer toGeneralCall having been received duringthe last week from following overdues

,

they are postedas missing .A

tla

n

t

i s

,

W

. 1

7

630

C

anton alp

araisoA

ud

h

u

m

l

a

,

W

.

8

0

9

S

tockh

olmO

dessa.

B

ere

n

i

c

e

,

W

. 22

0

6 Rig

a lad ivostock

D

r

a

co

,

E

. 446 C

oventry

um

asA

re

nasTontine , E. 3068 C . Wrath

n

g

avaW

t

-

S

un

g

,

E

. 4

1

77

6 HankowLobitoBay

GeneralCa l l(

all MarkBoats)

out for :J

a

ne

E

e

,

W

.

6

9

9 0

PortRup

ert ity

ofMexico

S

a

nt

a

W

.

5 514 Gobi-desert anilaV

.

E

d

m

u

n

d

su

n

,

E. 9 6

90

Kandah

ar-F

iume

B

ro

k

e

f

or

O

b

s

t

ru

c

tion , a nd

.

u itting

L

e ve l s

V

ALKYRIE(

racing plane)

,

A

.

J. Hartley owner

,

NewYork(

twice warned)

.

G

E

IS

H

A(

racing plane)

,

S

. vanCott owner,

Philadelphia(

twice warned)

.

MARV

E

L 0

F

PERU

(

racing plane)

,

J.

X.

Peixoto owner,

R

i

o deJaneiro(twice warned)

.

For t

he Board

:

LA

ZA

R

EFF

M

C

K EO

U

GH

[

6

3

]


138/179


139/179


140/179


141/179

Hig

h

-

Le ve l Slee t

The Northern weather so far shows no sign Of improvement

.

From all quarters come complaints of theunusual prevalence of sleet at the h igher levels

. R

acingplanes and digs alike have suffered severely the formerfrom unequal deposits of half- frozen slush on their vans(

and only those who have held up a badly balanced plane

in a cross wind know what that means)

,

and the latterfrom loaded bows and snow-cased bodies. As

a consequence

,

the Northern and Northwestern upper levelshave b

e

en practically abandoned,

and the high fliershave returned to the ignoble security of the Three

,

E

v

e

,

andS

ix hundred foot levels . But

there remaina

.

few undaunted sun-hunters who,

in spite of froz

en stays

and ice -

jammed connecting-

rods , still haunt the blueempyrean.Ba t

-

Boa t Ra c in

g

The scandal s of the past few years have at last movedthe yachting world to concerted action in regard to ba

t

boat racing .

W

e have been treated to the spectacle of what arepractically keeled rac

i ng-planes driven a clear five foot ormore above the water

,

and onl y eased down to touchtheir s

o

-called native element as they near the line.

Judges and starters have bee n conveniently blind to thisabs

u

rdity,

but the public demonstration offS

t

.

Catherine sLight at theAutumnRegattashas borne ample

,

iftardy,

[

65

]

with the night mail a story of 2000 ad

Documents