When Denbigh opened his eyes he found himself in the now familiar cabin on board thePelikan. There were several people in the limited space. He did not feel any interest in them. They irritated him. He wanted to sleep.
Gradually it dawned upon him that he had a narrow escape. Then he remembered that O'Hara was with him when he was swept off the side of theMyra.
"You there, Pat?" he asked, half afraid to put the question in case his chum was gone.
"Sure," replied a deep voice from the opposite bunk.
Denbigh attempted to sit up. He felt horribly sick. His head was whirling. It reminded him very forcibly and unpleasantly of his spiral flight around the vortex of the whirlpool.
"Lie still, Mr. Denbigh," said Captain Pennington. "You'll be fit all in good time."
"All right," agreed the sub. He was not in a fit state to do otherwise. "Where is thePelikannow?"
The skipper of theMyralowered his voice.
"Properly trapped. She cannot go another fifty yards up the river. We've spoilt her little game."
"Good business," murmured Denbigh, and turning on his side he fell asleep.
His escape was little short of miraculous. It was owing to the fact that he wore his solar topee fastened by a strong "chin-stay". The air-space between the double thickness of the sun-helmet possessed sufficient buoyancy to bring him to the surface, after being twice taken down by the whirlpool.
A few minutes previous to the disaster, the bore had exhausted itself at a point ten miles up the river, and the "rebound" had made itself felt just at the time when Denbigh made his second involuntary dive. The sudden slackening of the full force of the flood-tide had caused the whirlpool to cease, with the result that the sub floated unconscious on the surface of the river, when he was picked up by thePelikan'swhaler. O'Hara, Captain Pennington, and Armstrong had been more fortunate, for they had been swept clear of the influence of the eddy.
The result of Armstrong's plot had rather exceeded his expectations. TheMyralay athwart the channel, with less than twelve feet of water over her at high tide. Until the Mohoro River cut itself a new bed round the submerged wreck—which might take twenty-four hours or as many days—thePelikanwould be unable to proceed. Even if the obstruction did not exist, the raider was unable to proceed owing to the loss of her propeller blades.
The whole of the stores removed from thePelikanto theMyra, as well as those originally in the tramp's holds, were hopelessly lost, including the bulk of the ammunition and arms intended for the German colonial troops. There were several hundred reservists still on board, with no facilities for their transfer up-country. Even had there been boats available for them all, the voyage up the Mohoro was fraught with danger.
On the other hand, to remain in thePelikanwas to court disease and famine, even should the raider escape detection by the British cruisers.
Kapitan von Riesser's position was far from enviable. He soundly rated Unter-leutnant Klick, who in turn tried to shift the blame upon the British sailors for their dilatoriness in letting go the anchors. Von Riesser had seen with his own eyes that the anchors had been let go promptly. He could not, therefore, accuse theMyra'soriginal crew of conspiracy, since he had no evidence. The prospect of capture, too, made him treat the prisoners with far more consideration than he would have done had his position been a secure one.
The kapitan of thePelikanwas not, however, going to "knuckle under" without another effort. For the next three days all hands were kept hard at work, in spite of the blazing sunshine by day and the miasmic mists by night.
The guns previously landed on the shores of the lagoon and afterwards taken on board again were once more sent ashore, and placed in position so as to command a wide stretch of river. ThePelikan, being now moored fore and aft, had the remaining quick-firers mounted at the stern, so as to cooperate with the shore batteries in sweeping the approach by water.
Two miles down-stream a steel-studded cable was thrown across from bank to bank, and supported by barrels lashed in pairs at frequent intervals. The obstruction ought to prevent the dash by armed steamboats, even if unable to withstand the headlong charge of a destroyer.
The most formidable objects of defence were the two torpedo-tubes, which were removed from the ship and placed in position on shore four hundred yards below the chain boom. To enable the torpedoes to be fired, light piers were thrown out from the banks into twelve feet of water, the structure being hidden by boughs of trees and clumps of reeds. On the high ground at the back of the torpedo station searchlights were mounted. These were not to be used as a precautionary measure, but only to be switched on when an attack was visibly imminent. Von Riesser's principal aim was to remain hidden. If his retreat were discovered then he would put up a fight, and failing to win would surrender with a good conscience.
Long before the three days had elapsed Denbigh had quite recovered from the effects of his prolonged immersion. He had, with the rest of the captured British officers, little opportunity of finding out the actual steps that were being taken for defence. They knew that work was in progress, but during the removal of the torpedo-tubes and guns they had been sent below.
One discovery Denbigh made, and that was through overhearing a chance conversation between two German petty officers. It also accounted for the seemingly purposeless reluctance to confine the prisoners in the hold instead of attempting to chloroform them in their cabin.
ThePelikanwas double-skinned, but the space between the double bottoms was far greater than is usual in marine construction. It had practically two hulls, one within the other, and in the intervening space were stowed quantities of warlike stores.
When thePelikanhad been boarded by a British patrol officer the deception escaped detection. Apparently theZwaanwas a harmless Dutch liner. The sub-lieutenant who acted as boarding-officer was not sufficiently versed in the ways of the wily Teuton. An examination of the hold revealed nothing suspicious, and the vessel was accordingly released.
Unfortunately for the Germans their plans had gone awry, for on grounding on the outer bar the ship had strained several of her plates, with the result that the space between the inner and the outer skin was flooded. Not only were the stores spoilt, but, in order to lighten her draught in addition to compensating for lost buoyancy, cargo more than equivalent to that flooded had to be jettisoned.
Having landed the quick-firers and torpedo-tubes, the crew of thePelikanproceeded to increase the disguise of the ship. She was now a regular floating palm forest. So thick was the foliage brought on board and secured to the masts and upper works that sun-awnings were unnecessary. Even an observer in a seaplane, unless he were prepared for such a disguise, would fail to distinguish the raider in her garb of verdure.
"How do you feel for another jaunt ashore?" asked Denbigh.
"I can't say I am particularly keen on another swim," replied O'Hara. "Otherwise I've no objection to studying the fauna and flora of this delectable land. But what's the object?"
"It's about time we bade farewell to thePelikan" replied Denbigh. "It's four days since that little affair with the destroyers, and our cruisers have apparently made no attempt to get even with von Riesser and his motley crowd. I'm rather curious to know what's doing?"
"I can't see how going ashore will help," objected the Irishman.
"It will if we get to the mouth of the river. If the cruisers are in the lagoon, well and good."
"And if not?"
"Then we'll have to exist as best we can till they do arrive."
"H'm," muttered O'Hara. "And the other fellows—Pennington and Armstrong?"
"We'll ask them to join our merry throng," answered Denbigh. "The more the better, once we get clear of the ship."
That same afternoon the subs broached the matter to the master and mate of the lostMyra.
"I must cry off, thanks all the same," was Captain Pennington's reply. "Happen what may my place is with my men. I have no objection to Armstrong going with you, but I hope you have carefully weighed the matter. If you miss being picked up by the boats of the squadron your plight will be an unenviable one. The climate, the wild nature of the coast, and the natives, who are certainly under German influence, are all against you. Personally I think you stand a better chance by remaining here and letting events take their course. ThePelikanis trapped. Capture or destruction is but a matter of time."
"True," admitted Denbigh. "But these fellows evidently mean to put up a stiff fight. They've been doing something down the river—probably throwing up masked batteries. If we could manage to find out what they are up to and can communicate the intelligence to our ships it would help matters."
"That's another consideration," said Captain Pennington. "In fact, your duty lies that way."
"Are you trying your luck with us, Armstrong?" asked O'Hara.
"I'd be only too pleased to have a cut at it," replied the mate. "Especially as Captain Pennington has no objections. How do you propose to get clear of the ship? You can't swim ashore, because there's nothing but slimy mud on the bank for some distance."
"There's a punt made fast alongside the port quarter," said Denbigh. "They don't hoist it on board at night, because it's there when we turn in and in the same place when we come on deck in the morning. They only use it during the day."
"And there's a sentry right aft," objected Armstrong. "He'd spot us as sure as daylight."
"Look here," declared the sub. "If I succeed in getting her alongside amidships will you be ready to swarm down and into her?"
Armstrong nodded in assent. O'Hara also expressed his willingness to attempt the enterprise.
The Irishman still had his pistol. He had taken an early opportunity of cleaning it after his immersion. The screw-driver had been lost in theMyra, but by this time the lock furniture was easy to remove, a coin doing duty for the hitherto indispensable tool. The three men also contrived to reserve a small quantity of food and a glass bottle filled with soda-water.
Captain Pennington and Armstrong had been berthed in the same cabin as the two subs. That facilitated matters, since the master of theMyracould cover his companions' tracks.
"They'll make it pretty hot for me when they find you've cleared out," he remarked. "I can stick that. I don't think they'll go to extreme measures with me. If they do they'll be sorry for it later on."
At the usual hour the officer-prisoners were ordered below. By ten o'clock all was still. The crew of the raider were no longer working by night. The bulk of the preparations completed they were given ample opportunities for rest, since it was necessary to conserve their energies for defence against the impending attack.
On deck a strict watch was maintained, but the attention of the sentries was mainly directed downstream, whence the sudden switching on of the searchlights was to be the signal of the approach of the British flotillas.
It was not until two bells (1 a.m.) that the three officers stole from their cabin. On deck all was in darkness. There was no moon. Every light was extinguished. A mist obscured the glimmer of the stars. It was one of those nights when it was really impossible to see one's hand in front of one's face.
Without interruption the three officers gained the shelter of one of the boats slung inboard with davits. Here, eight feet above the deck, they were in comparative safety. Groping in the stern-sheets Denbigh found what he expected—a hand lead-line.
Keeping the weighted end in the boat he dropped the coils overboard. Caught by the swirling current the line trailed out astern. His next task was to lower the boat's painter, which was to form a means of getting down into the punt.
Stealthily the sub lowered himself hand over hand until his feet touched the water.
"Good heavens, what a current!" he thought. "Well, if the lead-line parts it will be an end to this little business. Here goes!"
He slipped softly into the river, striking out against the current, and at the same time allowing the rush of water to sweep him down across the bows of the punt, which was about a hundred feet from the place where he had descended.
Suddenly something flicked across his head. It was the trailing lead-line. Grasping it he allowed himself to be carried past the side of the ship until he came within reach of the punt, which was made fast to the lizard of one of the swinging booms.
Still retaining the line Denbigh clambered over the stern. The punt was yawing in the tideway. He could see that it would be impossible to haul it against the stream unless he kept well off.
He groped for'ard. In the bluff stem he found a metal ring-bolt. Through this he passed the lead-line, making fast to another ring-bolt in the transom.
So far so good. His next step was to cut adrift the unwieldy little craft. Released from the hold of the two ropes the punt swung away from the ship's side, but showed little tendency to yaw.
Slowly Denbigh began to haul in the lead-line. Foot by foot the punt crept up-stream. Trimmed well by the stern she towed lightly, but the securing line was none too strong. His journey to the place where he had entered the water seemed interminable, but at length Denbigh felt the trailing painter of the boat in the davits.
He made fast. As he did so the punt swung in towards the ship's side, her gunwale making a resounding sound as it came in contact with the steel plating.
He could hear men's footsteps approaching. Through the darkness he heard a German sailor enquiring of his companion what the noise was. The fellow expressed his opinion that it was merely a hippopotamus, and the explanation being evidently satisfactory the men went aft once more.
Grasping the painter Denbigh jerked it three times. It was the prearranged signal for his comrades to rejoin him. Silently Armstrong slid down the rope, followed by O'Hara.
By this time they were growing accustomed to the darkness. Denbigh could see the white uniforms of his companions. He wondered whether they would be spotted once the punt drifted away from the ship's side.
Just above his head was a cluster of palm branches, suspended in a line from the rail.
"I'll take the liberty of removing some of their floral decorations," mused Denbigh. Then signing to his companions to lie down he covered them with the broad leaves, cut the log-line, and allowed the punt to drift at the mercy of the strong ebb-tide.
"Any oars on board?" asked O'Hara, after the frail craft had drifted a few hundred yards down the river.
"Not a suspicion of one," replied Armstrong. "And the bore will be due in about an hour."
"Hands, lads!" exclaimed Denbigh cheerily. "Let us imagine we're taking part in a Fleet regatta."
Leaning over the sides the men paddled with their hands, steering a course obliquely with the left bank of the river.
Once the punt tilted alarmingly as a dark heavy body rasped underneath. The denizens of the river were in evidence. The officers prudently suspended operations until the unwelcome intruder had disappeared.
"Hulloa, what's that?" whispered the Irishman. "Hippos right across the river."
The punt was bearing down upon a line of dark objects that were apparently forging ahead against the swift current.
"Back starboard!" ordered Denbigh promptly.
The punt, checked by the resistance of O'Hara's palms in the water, swung sideways. As it did so Denbigh gathered up the slack of the severed lead-line that still remained on board.
Retaining the ends he threw the bight across one of the black objects, at the same time lying at full length on the bottom of the boat. With a jerk that wellnigh capsized the crank craft the punt's way was checked.
"Your hippos are barrels, old man!" he exclaimed.
"Mines, perhaps," suggested Armstrong. "Be careful, for goodness sake."
"Not mines," declared Denbigh. "They wouldn't be floating on the surface. But it's some infernal contrivance. Haul closer and we'll investigate."
Warding off the gunwale from the plunging barrel Denbigh dipped his arm into the water. His hand came in contact with a heavy chain eighteen inches beneath the surface.
"A boom!" he announced. "By Jove! If we had a slab of gun-cotton handy."
"Hist!" exclaimed O'Hara warningly. "I can hear voices."
"It's time for us to go," whispered Armstrong.
Denbigh cast off. The barrel appeared to leap away from them, as the punt was swept down-stream.
"Not much use attempting to land at this point," said Armstrong.
"I don't know so much about that," rejoined Denbigh. "Personally I'm rather anxious to see what these fellows are doing ashore. Keep her going, Pat. We'll strike the bank in less than half a mile."
Paddling in silence the men pursued their tedious course athwart the current until a dull roar was borne to their ears.
"The bore!" exclaimed Armstrong.
"It will be quite ten minutes before it reaches us," replied Denbigh. "Stick to it, lads!"
The amphibians, with the keen instinct that nature bestowed upon them, also were aware of the approach of the foaming mass of water, for the centre of the river was literally alive with hippopotami and saurians that had not gone ashore for a nocturnal ramble. The crocodiles on the mud-flats were either making for deep water or else crawling higher up the banks out of the rush of the irresistible bore.
"Aground!" exclaimed Denbigh as the punt's bows touched the mud. "Check her from swinging round."
Armstrong promptly jumped overboard, to sink above his knees in the soft mud. Only by holding on to the gunwale was he able to keep himself from sinking still deeper.
"We can't land here," he announced. "We'll be in up to our necks."
"Must," declared Denbigh laconically, raising his voice to enable it to be heard above the now loud roar of the approaching bore.
Seizing the lead-line and bending one end round his waist Denbigh leapt overboard, threw himself at full length upon the mud, and working with his hands drew himself laboriously over the slimy surface. It was horribly exhausting work, but to his intense satisfaction he found himself making visible progress without sinking beyond a few inches in the ooze.
Ahead he could discern the dark outlines of the mangrove forest. It seemed an interminable distance away.
Presently his hand came in contact with the trunk of a tree, that had fallen and had been partly embedded in the mud. It afforded a precarious foothold, but proceeding carefully, Denbigh found that the farther end rested in comparatively firm soil.
Planting his feet against the trunk, the sub hauled at the lead-line with all his might. The flat-bottomed punt glided easily over the slime until its bows were within a yard of the fallen tree. Then, unexpectedly, the rope that had rendered such good service parted like pack-thread.
Denbigh, losing his balance, fell prostrate on the ground, which was here soft enough to break his fall but sufficiently stiff to prevent him from being swallowed up in the mud.
Quickly O'Hara and Armstrong jumped, and grasping their fallen comrade hauled him to his feet. They had barely time to gain the firm bank when the bore thundered past, sweeping the punt away like a straw. They had a momentary glimpse of its bows rearing high in the air on the crest of the foaming, breaking wall of water, then it vanished out of sight.
"Phew!" exclaimed Armstrong. "That was a narrow squeak."
"I'm in a horrible mess," announced Denbigh. "The mud of Portsmouth Harbour is eau de Cologne compared with this filthy slime."
"Good heavens, man! you're shivering," declared O'Hara. "That won't do. Here, take my coat. I don't want it. I insist."
Waving aside Denbigh's objections the Irishman made him take off his saturated garments, while the rest of the deficiency of the sub's wardrobe was temporarily made good by making use of Armstrong's silk scarf as a loin-cloth. The men realized that in the deadly African climate dry clothing was of utmost importance. The sub's saturated and mud-encaked garments were made up into a bundle to be washed and dried at the first opportunity.
"Now," said Denbigh, "I feel like a giant refreshed. We've plenty of time, for it's no use getting to the coast before sunrise. If you fellows like to wait here I'll go up along the banks and see what is at the shore end of that chain."
"It isn't going to be a one-man show," objected O'Hara. "We'll all have a chip in. You lead, if you will, old man. I'll follow just far enough behind to keep you in view. Armstrong, will you bring up the rear?"
In single file and extended order the three officers made their way towards their objective. Keeping just below high-water mark they found the ground easy to walk upon, and, with one exception, free from the presence of crocodiles.
One huge brute barred their path, but on Denbigh hurling a heavy stick in its direction, the saurian turned and waddled towards the water.
Noiselessly, for the soft ground effectually deadened the sound of their footsteps, the daring explorers advanced.
Suddenly a hoarse voice broke the silence with a guttural "Wer da?"
Without a moment's hesitation Denbigh dropped gently to the ground. His companions followed his example, holding their breath in momentary expectation of hearing a bullet whizzing over their heads.
"It's all right, Schlutze," replied a voice. "The leutnant sent me to bring some more hands down. There's a boat broken adrift. She's grinding against the end of the torpedo-station pier."
"What boat?" asked the sentry, recovering his rifle.
"I do not know. It's empty."
"Not an English boat?" asked the man anxiously.
"When the English do venture they will attempt the attack with something bigger, my friend. The bigger the better, for they will never be able to pass here, with our excellent torpedo-tubes trained across the river. But I must be moving. Herr leutnant is in a great hurry. He does not want his piers damaged."
Denbigh remained lying on the ground. He waited until half a dozen Germans passed within twenty yards of him. He could hear their heavy boots clattering on the planks of the foliage-screened pier, although the structure was invisible from where he lay.
Finding that it would be too risky a business to attempt to pass the sentry, Denbigh crawled back to O'Hara, and by signs indicated that he was going into the forest. The three comrades, keeping close together, turned their backs upon the river and were soon swallowed up in the dense foliage.
Maintaining his direction by means of his spirit-compass, Denbigh held on until he came upon a clearing. Here the ground was furrowed with deep ruts. They had evidently been caused by the recent passage of heavy objects drawn upon rough sleighs. The dew-steeped ground bore the impress of many booted feet as well as, to a lesser extent, those of natives.
"They've been lugging up the quick-firers," mentally commented Denbigh. "I wonder where they've hidden them? Wish to goodness they hadn't employed niggers. I don't mind getting on the track of a Hun, but the blacks have an awkward trick of turning the tables upon a fellow when it comes to following a spoor."
He waited, revolving in his mind the problem that confronted him. His companions stood motionless and silent. They, too, realized that danger lurked in the dense bush.
Again Denbigh consulted his compass. The track on his left hand lay in a north-westerly direction. Assuming that it ran fairly straight, it would open out at the river banks in the vicinity of the temporary piers. In the other direction it showed a tendency to curve to the north-east.
"I'll try the right-hand track," decided the sub. "I suppose it will be out of the question to get those two obstinate fellows to remain here."
He put the proposal in dumb show, but both O'Hara and Armstrong vigorously protested against being left behind.
The three officers again took shelter in the bush, keeping close and parallel to the beaten track. Twenty minutes' steady progress brought them to the edge of a large clearing. By the compass their direction was now due west, showing that they had described a large semicircle. They were now not far from the river. They could hear the swirl of the flood-tide. Towards the centre of the clearing were several indistinct objects that looked like gun-emplacements. Through the darkness came the sound of men's voices. A dog yelped, and was instantly told to be silent.
"This is no place for us," thought Denbigh. "Much as I should like to see what is over there, I think we'll shift. I'll try and see how this clearing bears for the river."
Fifty yards farther on progress was barred by a line of young trees. Groping, the sub attempted to find a gap, but to his surprise the stem he grasped gave way. It was merely the top of a palm tree lopped off and forced into the ground. The whole row was merely a screen to mask the guns from the river.
As the sub scrambled through the gap his foot tripped against a concealed wire, and a spurt of red flame stabbed the darkness accompanied by the sharp crack of a rifle.
Resisting the impulse to take to their heels the three officers backed cautiously into the forest. Already numbers of men were hurrying to the spot. Lights flashed upon the scene, revealing the presence of two searchlight projectors set up on platforms almost above the heads of the British fugitives.
In the confusion, for the German officers and men were shouting and aimlessly running hither and thither, Denbigh and his companions withdrew, until they found themselves at the place where a couple of hours previously they had landed from the punt.
"Full speed ahead!" exclaimed Denbigh. "It will be dawn by the time we reach the shore of the lagoon. I think we've seen enough to enable us to locate the enemy's shore defences."
"Through the forest, or by the river?" asked O'Hara.
"Both," replied his chum. "Two miles farther down-stream is the spot where we landed from theMyra. I can recognize it. You remember what we buried there?"
"Rather," replied the Irishman. "The rifle and the ammunition we took from von Eckenstein's man."
"It will come in jolly handy if we fall foul of more wild animals," continued Denbigh. "When we've recovered the rifle we'll follow the same track as we did previously. Let's hope we'll be in time to warn our cruisers, for from all appearances von Riesser hasn't played himself out just yet."
"You're taking into consideration the possibility that the Germans have left an observation post at the entrance to the river?" asked Armstrong.
"Rather," replied Denbigh. "Even if they hadn't posted a guard they'll have made arrangements with the natives to give them the tip. Best leg forward, lads. If we fail to see the White Ensign before another six hours have passed I shall be horribly disappointed."
In spite of Denbigh's assurances the men had great difficulty in locating the spot where the rifle and ammunition had been hidden. The lack of moonlight altered the appearance of the river completely. Landmarks and bearings were useless in the darkness; but at length the weapon was recovered little the worse for its experience. Having cleaned the dirt from the muzzle, the breech-mechanism having been protected when it was buried, O'Hara took possession of the rifle and the journey was resumed.
The short African dawn was breaking as the three officers reached the low cliffs overlooking the lagoon.
A grunt of disappointment burst from Denbigh's lips. The morning mists had dispersed. The whole of the reef was plainly visible. The horizon was unbroken by any object that could be recognized as a British warship.
Unaccountably the blockading squadron had disappeared.
"That's done it!" ejaculated O'Hara.
"Perhaps," admitted Denbigh. "We'll have some grub and discuss the situation. It's good to sniff the open sea, after being cooped up in that pestilential river. That's one consolation."
The three chums ate sparingly, supplementing the provisions with the milk of a coco-nut. The soda-water was by common consent kept intact.
As soon as the sun's rays acquired strength Denbigh washed his mud-encrusted clothes in the sea and spread them out to dry.
"What's the programme?" asked Armstrong. "If we hang about here we stand a chance of getting nabbed. Our flight will have been discovered by this time, and they'll naturally conclude that we've made off towards the mouth of the river."
"Unless they conclude, from finding the punt jammed alongside the pier, that we've been slung out and drowned," rejoined Denbigh. "But we'll take no needless chances. We'll go north. Once we pass the clearing where the native village stands the coast ought to be fairly clear, and we can still command a view of the entrance to the lagoon."
Without incident the three officers made their way for nearly three miles along the coast. By this time the intense heat was making itself felt, and at O'Hara's suggestion they retreated to the cool of the forest, taking turns at keeping watch.
During the afternoon a native canoe appeared round a projecting bluff. The men had been fishing, for they brought a goodly haul on shore. Dragging the frail craft above high-water mark the blacks vanished in the direction of the village.
O'Hara, who was keeping watch, astonished his companions by giving them each a violent shake.
"What's wrong?" asked Denbigh, awake and alert in an instant.
"Nothing," replied the imperturbable Irishman.
"Then why this thusness?"
"Are you keen on a sea voyage?"
"A sea voyage?" repeated Denbigh.
"To Latham Island."
"Do you propose swimming there?" asked Armstrong with considerable asperity, for he had been disturbed in the midst of a much-needed sleep.
"There's a canoe awaiting us," reported O'Hara. "The sea's calm. To-night's the night. You told me that thePelikan'speople left a whaler and plenty of provisions and stores hidden on the island. With luck we ought to be able to fetch there, resurrect the boat, and make a dash for Zanzibar. We'd have the S.W. monsoon with us all the way, and if we fell in with one of our ships so much the better."
"Where's your precious discovery?" asked Denbigh.
Accompanying his chum to the edge of the cliff O'Hara pointed out the canoe.
"H'm, not much of a craft to make a voyage to a sandbank twenty-three miles from land," remarked Denbigh.
"We can work inside the lagoon for several miles and then keep close inshore until we reach Ras What's-its-name," continued O'Hara optimistically. "I've seen these native canoes miles out to sea before to-day. They seem pretty seaworthy."
While daylight lasted the three chums rested, after taking the precaution of gathering a supply of coco-nuts and roots. The subs eyed the latter with misgivings, in spite of Armstrong's assurances that they were both edible and nourishing.
As soon as the sun had set behind the boundless mangrove forests the daring trio made their way to the spot where the canoe was lying. The craft was about twenty-four feet in length, but only four in beam. With her half-dozen short paddles, a mast and sail, suitable only for running before the wind, and a stone jar half-full of water. Owing to the porosity of the earthenware the liquid was remarkably cool. A few lengths of net completed the equipment, but these were considerately left behind, since there was no need for unnecessary spoliation of the natives, even though they were, perhaps unwillingly, subjects of Kaiser Wilhelm II.
The canoe was light enough to enable the three men to carry her down to the water's edge. Without delay they pushed off and headed for the reef.
Here, on the lee side of the extensive coral ledge, they were in comparative safety. The long line of foaming breakers thundering up the reef afforded a guide to the position of the ledges; it deadened all other sounds, and since no native boats would be likely to indulge in night fishing, there was little risk of detection.
"We have company, you see," remarked Armstrong, pointing to a phosphorescent swirl less than twenty yards astern. The disturbance of the placid water was caused by the dorsal fin of a huge shark, that, scenting a possible prey, was zigzagging in the wake of the frail canoe.
"'We do so want to lose you; and we think you ought to go'," misquoted O'Hara, laying down his paddle and grasping his rifle.
"Hold on!" cautioned the mate. "You'll not only bring up every shark in the lagoon to make a meal of this beauty, but you'll arouse every native within hearing distance. Don't fire unless the brute gets too attentive; then use your pistol. It makes much less of a flash and report."
Hour after hour passed. The men took turns at paddling, since there was not a breath of wind. The shark still kept doggedly in company. As the canoe drew farther and farther away from the entrance to the Mohoro River the miasmic mists gradually dispersed, until the three officers found themselves under a bright starlit sky, and on the placid surface of the lagoon there seemed one blaze of reflected brilliance.
"It looks as if we are nearing the northern limit of the lagoon," remarked Denbigh. "We'd better keep a sharp look-out for a passage through the reef."
"What if we don't find one?" asked Armstrong. "The last gap of any size we passed quite three miles astern."
"There's an opening of sorts," announced O'Hara, pointing to a dark patch in the otherwise unbroken line of surf. "My word! I believe there's a spanking breeze outside."
"Steady there!" cautioned Denbigh, as the frail craft approached the opening, through which long undulations sullenly rolled in from the vast expanse of the Indian Ocean. "If we get capsized heaven help us. Our old friend has brought up a few more of his pals."
The sub was justified in advising caution. Half a dozen sharks were close to the canoe. Emboldened by numbers, they swam around in ever-decreasing circles, until one monster, braver than the rest, rasped his skin along the side of the canoe.
As the craft tilted O'Hara aimed a blow at the brute with his paddle. With a swift movement of its powerful tail the shark disappeared, only to rise again and resume its embarrassing attentions.
"If those brutes' instinct isn't at fault there'll be a pretty mess-up," thought Denbigh. "They evidently have seen native canoes upset in the channel through the reef before to-day."
"Think it's worth while risking it?" asked O'Hara.
"No, I don't," replied his chum bluntly.
"We must hang on till daybreak, then," said Armstrong. "At dead-low water there may be a trifle less swell."
"Yes," assented Denbigh. "We'll land on the lee side of the reef. Gently with her; we don't want to be stove in against a sharp branch of coral."
Without accident the landing was accomplished. The adventurers found themselves on a broad part of the reef that was barely three feet above the surface. Seaweed and driftwood had already accumulated, showing that the coral was now only occasionally invaded by the sea. Fifty yards away the surf broke heavily, but fortunately they were out of range of the falling spray.
Almost in silence the three chums sat until the sun rose in a grey sky above the horizon. Overhead a few large birds flew seaward—both circumstances presaging a fine day.
The tide had now fallen, and, although there were several feet of water in the channel, a detached reef about a hundred yards from the main coral ledge, which had uncovered as the tide fell, completely broke the breakers for some distance on either side of its seaward end.
"All aboard!" ordered Denbigh. "With luck we'll fetch Latham Island well before sunset."
Broad on the port bow rose Ras Kimbiji, which Denbigh recognized by a peculiarly-rounded and isolated hill rising two miles beyond the point.
From this cape, he knew, Latham Island bore 23 miles due east.
"Step the mast, Pat!" he exclaimed. "The breeze is well in our favour. One thing, we are not over-canvassed."
Therein he was mistaken, for the small spread of sail was more than sufficient to endanger the stability of the canoe. Since there were no reef points recourse had to be made to a "Spanish reef", which consists in gathering in a generous amount of one corner of the canvas and tying it into a knot. Even then the little craft literally bounded over the water. Before the S.W. monsoon Denbigh calculated her speed at seven or eight knots.
At the end of three hours the breeze increased, and the sail had to be still further reduced. Not daring to stand upright, the sub's range of vision was considerably limited. He was beginning to think that a slight error in the compass course had taken them past the low-lying and almost invisible sandbank for which they were steering.
"Breakers ahead!" shouted Armstrong.
For nearly five minutes the gaze of all three men was directed upon a patch of white foam in the midst of the dark-blue waters.
Then Denbigh broke the silence.
"We can finish off that soda-water now," he said. "That's Latham Island."
They drained the bottle. There was now no need to husband their scanty resources. Ahead lay the sandbank on which were hidden provisions in plenty.
"Down rag and out paddles!" ordered Denbigh.
The sail was quickly stowed and the mast unshipped. Under paddles the canoe was urged towards the lee side of the island, where a landing was easily effected.
Dragging the canoe above high-water mark the three chums, wellnigh "baked" by the heat, sat down upon the hard ground. Shelter there was none. The whole of the white surface simmered in the rays, both direct and reflected, of the tropical sun.
"Honestly I don't feel like work," remarked O'Hara. "It's too beastly hot. Besides, we've anticipated our time-table considerably. The sun's not crossed the meridian yet."
"It's a toss-up whether we set to at once or wait. In any case we stew," said Armstrong. "I vote we dig for an hour and knock off for the early afternoon."
"Yes," assented Denbigh. "That will, I think, be the better way. So bestir yourself, Pat."
"Where's the spot?" asked the mate.
"Almost at the other end of the island," replied Denbigh. "I can recognize it from the position of that jagged reef. Bring the paddles, they'll make excellent sand scoops."
Across the glistening sand they made their way until the three men came simultaneously to a dead stop.
Other diggers had preceded them, for where the whaler and the stores had been hidden was a large, partly-silted-up cavity.
The versatile Irishman was the first to break the silence.
Throwing his paddle to the ground he ejaculated:
"Dash it all! Our luck's out this time."
"Wish to goodness we hadn't been so prodigal with our provisions," said Denbigh as the three chums ruefully surveyed the excavation. "It will be short commons, unless——"
"Unless what?" asked Armstrong.
"Unless the fellows who have forestalled us have omitted to remove all the stuff."
"It looks as if they've made a clean sweep of most of the gear and burnt what they couldn't move. They've evidently poured petrol over the place and set fire to it. Now, what was the object?"
"Perhaps a landing-party from one of our ships destroyed the cache," suggested O'Hara.
"Possibly," replied his chum. "But, on the other hand, unlikely. It's my opinion that some of the Germans, finding that thePelikanwas held up, have made a dash for the island. In that case it is reasonable to suppose that they have fitted out the whaler, and are either making tracks for some navigable river lower down the coast or else they will attempt to capture the first tramp they fall in with."
"Not much chance of escaping capture themselves," said Armstrong.
"I don't know. Remember the case of theAyeshawith theEmden'slanding-party. They managed to fetch home all the way from the Cocos Keeling Islands. These fellows, with luck, might reach Batavia and be interned by the Dutch Colonial Government."
"And here are we stranded on a desolate sandbank, with precious little grub in the locker," remarked Armstrong. "There's one consolation. We have a boat."
"Of sorts," rejoined the Irishman. "Since she brought us here she ought to take us back to the mainland, although it will be dead to windward."
"What's wrong with Zanzibar?" asked the mate. "It's only about fifty miles to the nor'-west. We've a breeze slightly abaft the beam. She'll do it all right, especially if we take some sand aboard as ballast."
"Right," assented O'Hara. "Let's make a start. It's a howling pity to lose the breeze, and it's a jolly sight cooler on the water than on this sun-baked sandbank."
Quickly the new plan was put into operation. The canoe was launched, and about three hundred-weights of sand thrown into her. On re-embarking the crew found that their frail craft was considerably "stiffer", and showed no great tendency to capsize when one of their number stood upright. In her ballasted state more sail could be carried, and, what was more, she could be steered a point closer to the wind.
All went well until about three in the afternoon, when, with disconcerting suddenness, the wind died utterly away. The crisp, crested waves subsided into a long, sullen, oily swell. The canoe, without steerage way, floated idly upon the water.
"Out paddles!" ordered Denbigh. "You and I, Pat, will take the first trick. At every thousand strokes one man will be relieved. Ready?"
Counting, the sub knew, was the only means at their disposal for arriving at an equal division of labour. It also gave them a rough indication of the progress made, since each stroke represented a distance of two yards through the water.
"See anything?" asked Denbigh at length.
O'Hara, who was by this time at the steering paddle, stood up, and shading his eyes looked ahead in the hope of seeing the friendly rising ground of Zanzibar Island peeping above the horizon.
"Nothing," was the reply, "except that there's a breeze coming."
As the freshening wind swept down the men thankfully laid aside their paddles and set up the mast and sail. For a few minutes the breeze held true, then swiftly veering it blew dead ahead.
Once more the sail was lowered and the paddles resumed. With the wind dead in their teeth the work was trebly increased.
Within half an hour it blew with considerable violence.
"Force six, at least," declared Denbigh, referring to the Beaufort Notation method of indicating the wind-pressure. "We're in for a dusting."
It was as much as they could do to keep the lightly made craft head to wind. Armstrong was busily engaged in throwing overboard the sand ballast. Drifting before the wind the canoe was in danger either of being swamped or else carried out into the broad Indian Ocean.
The men were already exhausted. The canoe was drifting rapidly in spite of their strenuous efforts. Yet she climbed the crest wave with an ease that gave them confidence. The loss of "ground", made good only by hours of sheer hard work, was the circumstance that troubled them most.
"We'll rig a sea-anchor," said the mate. "Unfortunately we haven't any weights to keep the sail up and down, but that can't be helped."
Quickly the foot of the sail was bent to the mast, the sheets were bent to the extremities of the spar by a span, and the halyard led from the centre of the span to the bows of the canoe.
Watching their opportunity the men heaved their clumsy sea-anchor overboard and anxiously waited the result.
To their intense satisfaction they found that directly the rope took the strain the canoe floated head to wind without any assistance on the part of the paddles. The crew were, therefore, able to rest, but with the disquieting knowledge that every moment they were drifting farther and farther away from their desired haven.
The three officers were in good spirits notwithstanding the privations they had undergone and were still experiencing. They realized that this was part of the game. They had taken chances, and fate, in the shape of a strong head wind, had been unkind to them. The idea of mutual recriminations never occurred to them. Their adventure was of the nature of a joint-stock concern. They had done their best, and were ready to stand by each other till the end in whatever form it came.
For some hours O'Hara and Armstrong dozed fitfully on the bottom of the canoe, regardless of the spray that dashed over their recumbent forms. Denbigh, crouched aft, kept an occasional look-out, while at intervals he baled with half a coco-nut shell.
The sea showed no signs of moderating. The prospect of spending a night afloat in a mere cockle-shell became imminent.
Just then the sub heard a faint cry. He looked in the direction from whence the shout came, but could see nothing. He was about to put it down to a freak of his imagination when the cry was repeated.
Fifty yards or more to leeward was a man hanging on to an upturned boat.
"Wake up, you fellows!" exclaimed Denbigh. "There's someone overboard."
Seizing the paddles O'Hara and the mate checked the drift of the canoe until its course would bring it close to the upturned craft.
"Steady!" cautioned Denbigh. "As close as you can to her bows."
His ready mind grasped the situation. Could he but effect a communication with the waterlogged craft a double purpose might be served.
Down swept the canoe. As her quarter slipped past the boat Denbigh leant over the side. With one hand he staved off the sharp stem, the metal-bound edge of which would have crushed the side of the canoe like an egg-shell. With the other he grasped the painter, which was trailing from the bow ring-bolt.
"Stand by and take a turn!" he shouted to the mate, throwing him the slack of the rope.
Promptly Armstrong, who was up for'ard, made the running part of the painter fast to the rope of the sea-anchor. With a jerk the canoe brought up fifty feet to leeward of the waterlogged boat.
Here, sheltered by the latter, and with her drift apparently reduced, the canoe was in relatively smooth water. The unfortunate seaman, rallying his remaining energies, struck out. Almost exhausted, he was on the point of sinking when Denbigh seized him by the hair.
It was a difficult matter to get the man into the canoe. He was a great hulking fellow. The safety of the three officers was gravely endangered, but proceeding with the utmost caution they hoisted him over the side.
"Do you recognize him?" asked Denbigh.
"Eh?" exclaimed his chum. "No; do you?"
"Rather," replied the sub. "He's one of thePelikan'smob, and yonder craft is the whaler I saw buried on Latham Island. I'm afraid they haven't had much of a run for their money. But what's one man's meat is another man's poison. The whaler may prove a godsend."
"She will," rejoined Armstrong. "See, she acts as a perfect breakwater. We must be almost stationary, owing to her drag in the water."
"Even more than that," added Denbigh. "I propose when the weather moderates to have a shot at righting her. Since they provisioned her we are bound to find some tinned food in her after locker, for I don't suppose the whole lot of her gear was slung out when she capsized."
The sole survivor of the whaler's party was not long in recovering consciousness. His surprise at finding that his rescuers were the British officers whom he had last seen as prisoners on board thePelikanwas almost ludicrous. Soon he became communicative, and confirmed the sub's surmise that the whaler was bent on a minor raiding expedition.
The long night passed slowly. The last of the food supply had been exhausted. A few coco-nuts, which being freshly gathered contained liquid only, formed the sole sustenance of the four men.
With the dawn the wind fell but the sea still ran high. Eagerly the horizon was scanned, but nothing save a waste of tossing water met the eye.
"In another hour or so we'll be able to have a shot at righting the whaler," said Denbigh. "By that time the sea will have subsided. If you don't mind, you fellows, I'll have a caulk. I have more arrears to make up than you have."
Quite worn out Denbigh stretched himself on the bottom of the canoe and dropped off into a sound sleep. It seemed to him that he had not closed his eyes more than half a minute when the mate roused him.
"What are those beacons on our starboard bow, do you think?" he asked.
Denbigh was awake in an instant. Looking in the direction indicated he saw three triangular objects at a distance of nearly three miles away.
One glance was enough.
"Pat, you chump!" he exclaimed. "Do you mean to tell me you don't know what they are? And you must needs make Armstrong wake me out of my beauty sleep."
"Hanged if I can see hardly anything," announced the Irishman. "The salt's bunged my eyes up completely. What about it, then?"
"Those beacons, as you call them, Armstrong," replied Denbigh joyously, "are the tripod masts of three of our monitors."
"They are heading our way, then?" asked the mate.
"Either that or they're stern on to us. The former most likely. Stand by with the rifle. We must not let them miss us."
In about half an hour the three warships had approached sufficiently for their outlines to be discerned. They were moving at a slow pace—barely five knots. All that was visible of each of the monitors consisted of a low-lying hull of great beam, on which was placed a turret mounting two gigantic guns. Abaft the turret was a small superstructure, culminating in a bridge and chart-house. Immediately behind the bridge rose a lofty tripod mast, its height being seemingly out of all proportion to those conforming to the recognized measurements of naval architecture. Perched above the junction of the tripods was a large square structure whence the fire-control arrangements were conducted, while a stumpy topmast completed the incongruity. Abaft the mast was a single funnel. Two of the monitors were evidently sister-ships. The third was of a much smaller tonnage, although her armament was identical with that of her consorts.
"They're passing to windward of us," declared Denbigh. "Give them a couple of rounds."