Armstrong raised the rifle and fired. Almost immediately following the second shot a signal was run up from the leading monitor. Up fluttered the answering pendant to the mast of the smaller vessel, which immediately altered helm and bore down upon the canoe.
Slowly the rescuing craft approached. Her superstructure was crowded with interested spectators, while several of the crew, wading knee-deep, made their way to the submerged side of the monitor and stood by to pick up the derelicts.
The operation required great care for the unwieldy craft was yawing horribly. Being almost as broad in the beam as she was long, and snub-nosed in addition, she steered badly. By good seamanship on the part of her captain the monitor lost way at a distance of half a cable from the canoe.
"Cast off and out paddles!" ordered Denbigh.
Five minutes later willing hands assisted the three British officers and the German sailor to the ladder leading to the superstructure.
With feelings of thankfulness Denbigh, mustering his remaining energies, saluted the diminutive quarter-deck. It seemed almost heavenly to be once more under the shadow of the White Ensign. As he raised his hand to the brim of his weather-worn helmet a well-known voice exclaimed:
"Cheer oh! old man."
The speaker was Charles Stirling, now lieutenant and Acting-commander of H.M.S.Crustacean.
Stirling had literally fallen on his feet after he had been rescued by H.M.S.Actæon. Owing to his intimate knowledge of the East Coast of Africa and the Mozambique Channel, and having more than a nodding acquaintance with the troublesome raider now known to be in hiding in the Mohoro River, he had been given temporary command of the smallest of the three monitors sent from England to assist in the operations against German East Africa.
Notwithstanding his natural anxiety to learn how his former shipmates came to be adrift in a canoe in the Indian Ocean, Stirling insisted on Denbigh, O'Hara, and Armstrong being put into the sick-bay. All three men were almost exhausted. Even Denbigh's indomitable spirit had outworn his physical strength, while the Irishman was found to be affected with partial indistinctness of vision owing to prolonged exposure to the glare of the sun.
"You take it easy," was Stirling's parting injunction. "I promise I'll turn you out directly we sight the Mohoro Lagoon."
Reassured, Denbigh and his comrades in peril capitulated. Eighteen hours' solid sleep worked wonders, and although the Irishman was still suffering from painful inflammation of the optic nerve, the three officers had bathed, shaved, and changed into borrowed plumage before breakfast-time on the following morning.
After scraps of mutual experiences had been exchanged Stirling invited his chums to the bridge.
"The rummiest packet I ever set foot on," he admitted, "but she's a clinker. We've as fine a pair of 14-inch guns as a fellow could wish for. British made, too; they were manufactured in Canada. The oldCrustaceandoes not belie her name. She has a decided tendency to crawl crabwise, and she's as unhandy as a balsa-raft in a gale of wind."
"Not very good points," remarked O'Hara.
"But she has her qualifications, Pat. She's said to be torpedo-proof——"
"Do you want a practical test, old man?" asked Denbigh.
"Um—no; that is, not particularly if it can be avoided. Why?"
"Because there are a pair of 60-centimetre tubes waiting to have a slap at you when you ascend the Mohoro River."
"Steady, old man," protested Stirling with a hearty laugh. "The river's not broad enough for thePelikanto be lying athwart the stream. She must be quite twenty miles up the river."
"Say ten and you'll be nearer the mark," declared Denbigh. "She's trapped, and we have to thank Mr. Armstrong for doing the trick."
"Good man!" exclaimed the young skipper of theCrustacean, bringing his hand down upon the shoulder of the bashful mate of theMyra, after Denbigh had related the circumstances in which thePelikanwas prevented from ascending farther up the river. "I'll have to inform Holloway, our senior officer. He's under the same impression that I was. But what did you say about those torpedo-tubes?"
Concisely Denbigh explained the position and nature of the German shore defences.
"It strikes me pretty forcibly that you'll come in most handy," said Stirling. "It's not thePelikanthat is now our principal objective. She, apparently, is done for, unless the river forms a fresh bed round the hull of the sunken tramp. The batteries are our pigeon."
"You were saying that theCrustaceanis practically torpedo-proof," Denbigh reminded him. "In what way?"
"She's of very shallow draught. Unless a torpedo were set to travel only a few feet beneath the surface—in which case much of the bursting power of the war-head would be wasted—the 'tin-fish' would pass harmlessly under her bottom. If, however, a torpedo did explode, there's a cellular space of more than twenty feet between the outer and inner hulls. These compartments are stuffed with something. I can't tell you because I don't know myself what the stuff is. All I know is that it's fireproof and its specific gravity is approximately the same as sea-water. Hence, in the event of a hole being blown in the shell of the outer hull our stability will hardly be affected."
At that moment a signalman approached and saluted.
"Senior officer reports approach of sea-plane parent shipSimplicita, sir."
"Very good," replied Stirling, then addressing his companions he added, "That's excellent. We are having a couple of sea-planes to spot for us. TheSimplicita, an old light cruiser, has been fitted out as a floating base for aerial work. With luck they've managed to stow a couple of 'planes on her."
Before theSimplicitajoined the flotilla the senior ship hoisted another signal. It ran:
"Boat under sail four miles S.S.W.Crustaceanto proceed and investigate."
At her utmost speed, a bare six knots, the little monitor altered helm and stood off in the indicated direction. The sea was now calm, and there was hardly a breath of wind.
At Stirling's suggestion Denbigh, O'Hara, and Armstrong ascended to the fire-control platform. From this lofty perch a considerable expanse of sea could be swept by the aid of powerful glasses.
Away on the starboard hand could be discerned the faint outlines of the African coast, almost hidden in a pale-blue haze. Astern, but on a diverging course, were the monitorsParadoxandEureka, the former flying the broad pendant of the senior officer, Captain Holloway. Ahead, a small patch of greyish-white canvas marked the position of the boat to which theCrustaceanwas proceeding.
"That's not a Service rig," declared Denbigh, proffering his binoculars to O'Hara.
The Irishman waved them aside.
"No, thanks, old man," said he. "I'll wait. I don't want to crock my eyes any more than they are at present. I'll take your word for it that she's not one of our boats."
"She's a merchantman's cutter," asserted Armstrong. "I wouldn't mind laying odds that she's one of thePelikan'sboats making for Latham Island."
The mate was right, for on discovering the approach of the monitor the cutter altered her course, lowering her canvas and resorting to her oars in the vain hope that she had been unnoticed.
Twenty minutes later, the difference in speed of the monitor and her quarry being very small, Stirling ordered one of the four quick-firers to be discharged. The projectile, falling within fifty yards of the boat, had the desired result, for the men boated their oars and hoisted a square of white cloth as a signal of surrender.
"We seem fated to fall in with our friends the Huns," remarked Denbigh. "Armstrong has scored a palpable hit; they are some of thePelikan'scrowd. I recognize that fellow with a bandaged head as Major von Eckenstein."
Most docilely the boat's crew came over the side. There were, in addition to the major, a junior lieutenant of thePelikanand seven seamen; the rest, to the number of about a dozen, were reservists transhipped from theSan Matias. The military section had discarded their uniform and wore a motley collection of civilian garb. They were unarmed, having thrown overboard their rifles and ammunition upon the shot being fired to compel them to abandon flight.
The unter-leutnant had previously rehearsed a most plausible story with which to gull the Englishmen, but a look of comical dismay overspread his features when he recognized the officers who a short while ago had been prisoners on board the raider.
At last he mustered up sufficient courage to demand, somewhat haughtily, that he and his men should be accorded honourable treatment as prisoners of war.
"Certainly," replied Stirling blandly. "I am sorry that you should imagine otherwise. But, of course, the fact that Major von Eckenstein and his men have adopted civilian attire tends to put them on a different footing."
Von Eckenstein's face, or as much of it as was visible between the swathed bandages, grew pale. He remembered the incident when he slashed O'Hara across the face. Visions of reprisals rendered him terror-stricken.
"Forgive me, Herr O'Hara!" he almost shouted.
The Irishman smiled affably.
"Forgive?" he echoed. "There is nothing to forgive. You gave O'Hara a cut across the face. It raised quite a small weal. Judging by the state of your figurehead, I'm afraid my treatment of you on the shore of the lagoon rather disturbed the balance of exchange."
"You did this?" asked the major, dumbfounded at the information. "Donnerwetter! I thought——"
Sheer astonishment rendered him incapable of completing the sentence. He could not understand why the British officer received him with unperturbed courtesy. Evidently here was something adrift with the Teutonic gospel of hate.
"So you were making for Latham Island to resurrect the hidden stores?" asked Denbigh, addressing the unter-leutnant.
The young German officer was also completely taken aback.
"Yes," he admitted. "But how came you to know that we had stores buried there?"
"That's a secret," replied the sub. "But I'll tell you this. You would have found yourselves forestalled. Some of thePelikan'smen made a dash for the island, fitted out the whaler, and left the place as bare as an empty house. They did not get far. The boat was capsized and all on board perished, except one man, who is now a prisoner on board this vessel."
"Now, gentlemen," broke in Stirling briskly, addressing the major and the unter-leutnant, "I must ask you to go below, but before doing so I will take the liberty of examining the contents of Major von Eckenstein's pockets."
"Himmel!" gasped the major. "For why? According to the rights of belligerents my personal property is not liable to be confiscated."
"Your personal property—yes," replied Stirling. "Come, sir, no fuss, if you please."
Sullenly the German permitted a petty officer to remove the contents of his pockets. There was an order-book, containing a few pencilled memoranda; a pocket-book in which were papers seemingly of purely personal interest; some notes on a South American bank.
"Kindly remove your waistcoat," continued the inexorable Stirling.
Von Eckenstein shrugged his shoulders. If black looks could kill, Stirling was as good as booked to Davy Jones.
"This is a needless indignity," almost howled the Hun.
"On the contrary, a necessary precaution on our part," corrected the skipper of theCrustacean.
Sullenly von Eckenstein removed his waistcoat and threw it on the deck. Deliberately opening a penknife Stirling ripped open the back and removed an envelope of oiled silk.
"Thank you," he said gravely. "That is all we require for the present, Herr Major."
Gathering up the rest of his possessions, the major followed his companions in misfortune and disappeared below.
"Confidential orders from Potsdam to the German Governor of the East African Colony," announced Stirling. "Here, Denbigh, have a squint at it and see if I'm not right."
"How ever did you discover this?" asked O'Hara.
"Intuition, my dear old sport," replied Stirling with a laugh. "You told me about the cache on Latham Island. Also, you may remember relating a conversation between this von Eckenstein and Kapitan von Riesser, just before the stores were landed. Von Eckenstein objected—why? Because he thought the hiding-place ought to be on the mainland. He had a rooted objection to making a voyage in a smallboat. Hence it was reasonable to suppose that the Latham Island depot was for the major's particular benefit. The fact that he was forestalled has nothing to do with the main case. ThePelikanis in difficulties. Direct communication with the rest of the German land forces is out of the question. So the major is sent off to Latham Island with the Imperial dispatches in his possession. Then the unter-leutnant's instructions are to revictual and replenish stores, and take the major to the mainland, most likely to the Rufigi River. There there is, I believe, fairly easy communication with Tabora, the head-quarters of the German Colonial forces. Seeing us approach, von Eckenstein ought to have destroyed his paper, but he didn't—he trusted to his belief in our natural stupidity. I wouldn't mind betting that now he's bemoaning his fate and admitting that Englishmen are not the fools he supposed them to be."
Which was exactly what the battered and dejected von Eckensteinwasdoing.
All that night the monitors lay, with lights out, off the outer bar of the Mohoro Lagoon. A council of war had been held on board theParadox, when a fresh plan of action was drawn up. This was in consequence of the information Denbigh, O'Hara, and Armstrong had brought concerning the enemy's defences.
"This chart is radically wrong," declared Denbigh, when a chart of that part of the coast was shown to him. "The bend in which thePelikanis lying is not shown. Apparently the topography is from an old survey."
"It is from the latest available information," remarked Captain Holloway, loath to deprecate the work of the Hydrographic Department of the Admiralty.
"Available as far as the Germans would permit," corrected the sub deferentially. "They've had full control here for years. I'm not referring to the lagoon, but to the river. The depths, too, are inaccurate."
"I suppose you wouldn't object to a job to-morrow?" asked the senior officer, after he had listened intently to Denbigh's explanations and descriptions of the details of the Mohoro River.
"Not in the least, sir," replied the sub promptly.
"In a sea-plane?"
"Just my mark, sir; but I've had no flying experience."
"We would want you for registering duties," continued Captain Holloway. "You will have a flight sub-lieutenant as pilot. With your knowledge of the shore batteries and torpedo stations you will be able to render further important service. Very good; I'll arrange for the sea-plane to pick you up at dawn; that is, if it is not too misty. These tropical mists play the deuce with aerial observations."
It was arranged that the attack should open at seven on the following morning. TheCrustaceanwas to lead the way over the inner bar, and devote her attention to the torpedo station. TheParadoxwas to shell the batteries concealed in the mangrove forest, while theEurekawas to patrol the lagoon and to cut off any attempt at flight on the part of the German troops, whose line of retreat would be pretty certain to be along the coast, since the thick forests and marshes to the westward made retirement to the hinterland almost a matter of impossibility.
Two hours before sunrise the crews of the monitors were called to "action" stations. They had previously bathed and changed into clean clothes, and had been given ample time to enjoy their breakfast. Clearing ship for action took but little preparation, since the monitors carried only what was necessary as floating batteries.
At the hour specified a sea-plane taxied gracefully to within fifty feet of theCrustacean. A boat was lowered from the monitor, and into this Denbigh stepped, to the accompaniment of the somewhat irrelevant remarks of his brother officers.
"Fine mornin'," was the flight-sub's greeting, as nonchalantly as if he were passing the time of day with a casual acquaintance. "Hop in. You'll find a belt fixed to the back of your seat. There's the wireless gear. See that lever on your left? That releases the paying-out gear of the aerial. Don't pay out too smartly. Ready?"
The blades glittered in the morning light as the propeller revolved and rapidly increased the number of revolutions. Slowly at first, then with accelerated movement, the sea-plane skimmed the placid surface of the lagoon. Then, almost before Denbigh was aware of it, the machine leaped upwards. The slight tilt of the seat was the only intimation that the sea-plane had parted company with the water, until the sub noticed the surface of the lagoon apparently receding with great rapidity.
Round and round spiralled the frail contrivance, tilting with an easy swinging movement as it climbed. Already the monitors looked no larger than toy boats upon an ornamental pond. The irregular ground on either side of the river was merged into an expanse that betrayed no indication of height. Far beneath him Denbigh could discern a ribbon-like strip of silvery-grey. It was the Mohoro River.
"Distance lends enchantment to the eye," thought the sub. "And it is such a dirty river."
He mused feelingly. In his imagination he sniffed the foetid odours from the torrential yellow stream. He had a mental vision of a swim in the dark, with hippos and crocodiles for company. The reeking mud-flats, too, lay beneath him, their dismal and monotonous aspect obliterated by the charm of altitude.
Above the land the rapidly increasing strength of the morning sun was causing great irregularities in the density of the air. The sea-plane rolled violently. Twice she dropped through a sheer distance of a couple of hundred feet, owing to "air pockets", but the pilot, with the utmost unconcern, held her on her course.
Presently he turned and bawled something. The rush of the wind made his words unintelligible, but he pointed to the aerial release. Denbigh understood, and depressing the lever allowed a hundred and fifty feet of wire to be run off the reel.
Leaning over the side of the fuselage the sub brought his glasses to bear upon the waterway almost beneath him. He could distinguish the fatal bend in the Mohoro River where theMyrahad turned turtle and had been swallowed up in the shifting sand. He could even discern her outlines as she lay on her side with ten feet of water swirling overhead.
Farther down-stream was something that looked exactly like an island covered with luxurious vegetation. It was thePelikan. The disguise was really admirable. Had Denbigh not known of the means her crew had taken to hide her he would never have detected her presence.
But thePelikan'shour had not yet come. Until the shore batteries and fortifications had been shelled out of existence she was to be left severely alone. With theMyra'screw confined on board the raider, the British monitors dare not open fire upon her.
Round circled the sea-plane, gliding down to within five hundred feet of the summit of the mangroves. Everything seemed quiet beneath. The whir of the propeller and the rush of air deadened all other sounds. Here and there were clearings, like to one another as peas in a pod. For the first time in his life Denbigh felt uncertain.
Again he swept the river with his binoculars. Across the mud-flats, for the tide was now almost on the last of the ebb, he spotted two slender dark lines stretching towards the navigable channel. A little way down was a series of small dark objects thrown athwart the stream. They were the torpedo-piers and the barrels supporting the chain boom. Almost abreast of them was the screened battery.
At a sign from Denbigh the flight-sub trimmed the elevating planes. Up climbed the machine till at an altitude of six thousand feet she was visible from the distant monitors. Then she commenced to cut figures of eight, while Denbigh began to call up theParadoxby wireless.
Having made certain that the monitor had gauged the required distance the sea-plane volplaned to within a thousand feet of the ground.
The receiving telephones fixed to Denbigh's ears began to emit faint sounds that in Morse spelt out the words, "Stand by to register".
Twenty seconds later a lurid flash, followed by a terrific cloud of yellow and black smoke, leapt skywards from a spot in the mangroves. In spite of her altitude the sea-plane rocked violently in the torn air. For a moment Denbigh thought that the machine was plunging helplessly to earth.
The gentle tapping of the wireless receiver recalled him to a sense of duty.
"How's that?" spelt the dot-and-dash message.
Where the shell had burst a dozen or more trees had been literally pulverized. Others, their trunks lacerated by the explosion, had toppled at various angles against those that had withstood the shock. The "hit" was roughly two hundred yards beyond the screened battery.
From beneath the foliage covering the emplacements men peeped timorously. A dull-grey figure, bent almost double, was running for shelter. It was one of the German sentries.
"Right direction; two hundred yards over," wirelessed Denbigh.
Another heavy projectile screamed on its way, passing some hundreds of feet beneath the seaplane. It burst; but the sound like that of its predecessor was inaudible to the pilot and observer. The action of the detonating shells reminded Denbigh of an animated photograph, so effectually and silently did the work of destruction appear.
"A hundred yards short," registered the sub.
"Then how's this?" was the rejoinder.
Fairly in the centre of an emplacement fell the twelve-hundred-pound shell. High above the mushroom cloud of smoke flew fragments of wood and metal. When the dense vapour had drifted away in the sultry air it was seen that the work of that gigantic missile was accomplished.
A gaping hole fifty feet in diameter marked the place where the carefully-screened quick-firers had been.
Round the edge of the crater were smouldering sand-bags hurled in all directions like small pebbles. The two guns, dismounted, were sticking up at acute angles in the debris, their mountings shattered into fragments of scrap-iron metal.
There was no sign of life in the crater, nor in the partly uncovered dug-outs in its vicinity, but from a neighbouring position poured swarms of Germans, half-dazed and terrified by the explosion that had shaken their subterranean retreat like a severe earthquake shock.
TheParadoxhad completed her particular job.
Meanwhile a second sea-plane was registering for theCrustacean, her guns being directed upon the piers on which thePelikan'storpedo-tubes had been placed.
Without once coming within sight of her objective the little monitor effected her mission with two shots, blowing both torpedo-stations to smithereens.
Nor was theEurekaless successful. A shell fired in front of the crowd of demoralized Germans as they fled through the mangroves literally roped them in. Panic-stricken they doubled back and disappeared in the dug-outs close to the wrecked emplacements, and theEureka, having been accordingly informed, ceased firing.
"Now for thePelikan!" exclaimed Stirling, as the sea-plane, having returned, put Denbigh on board theCrustacean.
"It will be an affair of boats, I suppose," suggested O'Hara. "With the flood-tide and on a dark night she ought to be captured with little loss to the boarding-party."
Two of the monitors were lying at anchor in the river. TheEureka, having to watch the coast, steamed slowly up and down the lagoon, her progress watched by hundreds of awe-stricken natives.
The question of how to deal with thePelikanwas under discussion, for Captain Holloway had convened another council of war at eight bells in the afternoon.
The boats carried by the monitors were not fit for cutting-out work, and although a certain means of destruction was at the command of the senior officer, he was reluctant to put his terrible resources into force on account of the presence of theMyra'screw on board the raider.
While the discussion was in progress, the majority of officers favouring a suggestion that the light cruisers should be brought up by wireless, a steam launch was reported to be coming down the river.
The launch bore a large white flag flying from a staff in the bows. In her stern-sheets was Ober-leutnant von Langer.
Received with naval honours, a guard being mounted on the quarter-deck of the senior monitor, von Langer came over the side, and announced himself as the representative of Kapitan von Riesser, of H.I.M. shipPelikan.
"Well, sir?" asked Captain Holloway briefly.
"I am here to discuss terms," said the ober-leutnant.
"Which must be unconditional surrender of men and material," added the skipper of theParadox.
"Excuse me," said von Langer. "But we are not yet beaten."
"You are precious near it," said Captain Holloway. "Unless the German Ensign is hauled down on board thePelikanwithin an hour I will open fire."
"UNLESS THE GERMAN ENSIGN IS HAULED DOWN ON BOARD THE PELIKAN WITHIN AN HOUR, I OPEN FIRE.""UNLESS THE GERMAN ENSIGN IS HAULED DOWN ON BOARD THEPELIKANWITHIN AN HOUR, I OPEN FIRE."
"UNLESS THE GERMAN ENSIGN IS HAULED DOWN ON BOARD THE PELIKAN WITHIN AN HOUR, I OPEN FIRE.""UNLESS THE GERMAN ENSIGN IS HAULED DOWN ON BOARD THEPELIKANWITHIN AN HOUR, I OPEN FIRE."
"If you do you must remember that there are many English prisoners on board," declared the ober-leutnant with the air of a man who has thrown down his trump card.
"Within one hour, unless thePelikanis surrendered in her present state, without further damage to her stores, equipment, and hull, we open fire," was the British officer's mandate. "Return to your ship at once, Herr Leutnant, and inform Kapitan von Riesser that he must take immediate steps to safeguard his British prisoners, either by sending them down the river or else by placing them in a secure shelter on shore. I shall hold your kapitan and officers morally responsible for any of theMyra'screw who may be killed or injured in the forthcoming operations."
"You have yet to find thePelikan," spluttered the German officer.
"Excuse me, sir, she is found," said Captain Holloway. "To show that I am not in the habit of speaking at random I will produce proofs."
He gave an order to a seaman, who doubled off to the quarter-deck companion-ladder. Presently Denbigh, O'Hara, and Armstrong, who during the interview had discreetly gone below, appeared on deck.
The ober-leutnant's jaw dropped. His podgy cheeks quivered with intense surprise.
"Donnerwetter!" he exclaimed. "This is a colossal shock."
With an effort he pulled himself together, clicked his heels and saluted the British senior officer. Then fumbling in his breast pocket he produced a document and handed it to the captain.
It was a formal surrender.
In it Kapitan von Riesser agreed to hand over thePelikanat the hour of nine on the following morning.
"Very good," said Captain Holloway. "We are willing to give you a few hours' respite, but you are to clearly understand that nothing must be done in that interval that will affect thePelikanfrom a military point of view. You must also send theMyra'smen down by boat before sunset."
"To that I agree," replied von Langer, and stiffly refusing the invitation to have a glass of wine the German officer went over the side.
Von Langer's steam cutter was barely out of sight when a couple of German officers belonging to the land forces appeared on the bank, bearing a white flag.
Their business was quickly transacted. They desired to surrender forthwith and unconditionally the remaining troops under their command. Within an hour eighty-five men, many of them badly wounded, were shipped on board the sea-plane parent shipSimplicita. Out of the three hundred reservists who had transhipped from theSan Matiasto thePelikanbut thirty-three were untouched by the British fire.
Well before sunset the first of the conditions of thePelikan'ssurrender was carried out. The steam cutter returned towing a whaler in which were the crew of theMyra. British reticence went by the board when they hove in sight. They cheered frantically like delighted children. Having been under the talons of the German Eagle, they realized more than ever before the world-wide power of Britain's sea-power.
Amongst them was Captain Pennington, who was warmly greeted by the officers of theCrustacean.
He reported that thePelikanwas being prepared for surrender; that her garb of palms was being removed, but as far as he knew no attempt had been made to throw overboard the remaining guns, or to destroy the stores and munitions.
"And to-morrow," remarked Stirling to his chum—"to-morrow we will redeem these."
And he held out Kapitan von Riesser's receipt for the gold that he had taken from the three subs when they were captured on theNichi Maru.
As soon as darkness set in the monitors switched on their searchlights, theCrustacean, which was farthest up-stream, training her projectors on the channel in the direction of the distantPelikan, while theParadoxswept both banks with her powerful beams. In the lagoon theEurekaand theSimplicitadirected their searchlights upon the shore.
About one bell in the middle watch the look-out on theCrustaceannoticed two dark objects drifting down-stream. At first he thought them to be a pair of hippopotami, but as their relative distance seemed constant and there was no sign of propulsion, he reported the matter to the officer of the watch.
"It's only a part of the boom, smashed by our shell fire," he remarked casually. "We'll get a lot of wreckage down with the ebb-tide."
Nevertheless he gave orders for the helm to be starboarded. The monitor, sheering to port under the force of the current until her cable was hard athwart her stem, missed the barrels, for such they were, by a good twenty yards. Steadily they drifted by, eventually stranding in the mud at a distance of two hundred yards from theParadox. In half an hour they were high and dry, lying directly in the rays of the larger monitor's searchlight.
Twenty minutes later another pair of barrels came drifting down. The officer of the watch of theCrustaceanexecuted a similar manoeuvre, but before the monitor sheered out of the track of the derelicts, the barrels were hung up one on either side of the bows.
"I can hear something ticking, sir," reported a seaman leaning over the low freeboard.
The officer hastened for'ard and listened.
"Nonsense!" he declared. "It's the bull-frogs on shore that you can hear, or else the lap of the water. They're only waterlogged barricoes. Push them clear with a boat-hook."
Three or four seamen tried to free the bows from the obstruction but without success. The barrels afforded little or no grip, and pinned down by the rush of tide refused to be thrown clear.
"Away sea-boat!" ordered the officer of the watch.
Quickly the boat was manned, and rowing well ahead of theCrustacean, was allowed to drop stern foremost until the coxswain was able to bend a rope to one of the barrels.
"Can you hear anything, Sanders?" asked the officer of the watch.
"No, sir," replied the petty officer.
As a matter of fact he was suffering from gun deafness, but from praiseworthy yet indiscreet motives he had kept the knowledge of his temporary physical defect to himself.
Ordering the men to give way, the coxswain jerked the obstruction clear of theCrustacean'shawse.
"Shall I make this fast alongside, sir?" he asked. "Perhaps you'd be likely to examine it in the morning."
"No," was the reply, "Tow it clear of theParadox'shawse and cast it adrift."
The boat pushed off. The officer of the watch, returning to the bridge, watched the progress of the two barrels as they wobbled in her wake.
Suddenly his attention was aroused in another direction by a loud shout of; "Vessel dead ahead, sir!"
Sweeping round a bend in the river into the glare of the searchlights was thePelikan. She was drifting broadside on, her length appearing to occupy the whole breadth of the deep channel.
"Action stations, there!" roared the officer of the watch.
A bugle blared. Up from below tumbled swarms of men dressed in motley array of a meagre description. The officers, berthed in the after part of the superstructure, rushed out. In thirty seconds the turret, with its pair of monster 14-inch guns, was surging round as a preliminary test of the turning mechanism.
At a glance Stirling took in the situation. ThePelikan, being not under control, had been turned adrift with the object of fouling and seriously damaging the British vessels lying in the strong tideway.
He telegraphed for half-speed ahead. The engine-room bell had not clanged a minute when the propellers began to churn. Hurriedly the cable was slipped, and the anchor with eighty fathoms of studded steel chain was lost for ever in the muddy bed of the Mohoro.
The youthful lieutenant-commander's first duty was to avoid the danger of being fouled. He could not go astern until theParadoxwas safely under way. Regarding thePelikanhe was as yet uncertain whether to order the sea-boats to board her and drop anchor, if by chance her ground tackle were ready for instant use, or whether to sink the raider without further ado.
His deliberations were cut short by a tremendous explosion on the bank of the river on the starboard quarter of theCrustacean. Where the stranded barrels had been was a huge cavity in the mud, into which the water was pouring rapidly.
A few seconds later another explosion occurred well astern of theParadox. The barrels were nothing more or less than deadly infernal machines. Had they exploded close to the side of either of the monitors it would be doubtful whether, even with their elaborate protection against torpedoes, they would have kept afloat after the terrific concussion.
Almost simultaneously the searchlights on theParadoxwent out. Fragments from the explosion had put the two projectors out of action.
The echoes of the explosion had scarce died away when a shout was raised that the driftingPelikanwas on fire.
With startling suddenness lurid flames were belching from her decks. Spurts of red-tinged smoke eddied from her open scuttles. In a few seconds she was a mass of fire from bow to stern.
Slowly she drifted down-stream. At intervals her stern hung up in the mud, till, caught by the current, she would swing round and slide away from the bank. The flames reached well above her mastheads, yet there was comparatively little smoke. The roar of the devouring elements out-voiced every other sound, even the terrified noises of the denizens of the mangrove forests as they fled from the glare that rivalled that of the sun.
From the conning-tower Stirling ordered a shot to be fired from one of the huge turret-guns, but before the muzzle could be depressed a stupendous explosion shook sky, land, and water.
Denbigh, gripping the bridge rail, felt himself borne backwards by the furious rush of air. Temporarily blinded by the vividness of the flash, he was dimly aware of a series of crashes above and below him. The stanchion rails snapped off short. In vain the sub strove to regain his balance; he subsided heavily against the side of the chart-room, stunned by the terrific thunder-clap that followed the explosion.
Intense darkness succeeded the vivid brightness of the prolonged flash. The searchlights of theCrustaceanhad failed.
Slowly Denbigh sat up. He became aware that debris was littering the partly wrecked bridge. In vain he tried to pierce the darkness and discern the whereabouts of his companions. A hot, pungent smoke drifted past, causing him to splutter almost to suffocation.
Someone tripped across his legs. It was Stirling emerging from the conning-tower. He recognized the sub's very forcible language.
"Hold on," cautioned Denbigh, "or you'll be overboard. The bridge has gone to blazes."
As he spoke theCrustaceanshuddered. Her bows rose slightly. With her hull still quivering under the pulsations of her engines she had run aground on a mud-bank on the port-hand side of the river.
Treading warily Stirling groped till he found the engine-room telegraph. Guessing the position of the lever he ordered "Stop". In the pitch-dark engine-room, for every electric lamp in the ship had been shattered, the artificers, facing death amidst the whirring machinery, succeeded in carrying out his orders.
Through the darkness came muttered exclamations and partly stifled groans. Down-stream theParadox'ssiren, for want of better means of communication, was wailing in long and short blasts.
"I have brought up to starboard," was the message. "You may feel your way past me."
"There's no may about it," thought Stirling grimly; then, leaning on the twisted bridge rails, he shouted in stentorian tones: "The hands will fall in on the port side of superstructure facing outboard. Bugler!"
"Sir!" replied a boyish voice through the impenetrable gloom—a voice without a tremor save of excitement.
"Sound the 'Still'."
A silence brooded over the stricken monitor. Even the wounded forbore to groan. Then someone appeared from the superstructure bearing a couple of "battle lanterns". Lights, too, began to glimmer through the hatchways, while with admirable promptness the electrical staff set to work to renew the carbons of the searchlights and to test the circuits of the internal lighting system.
Already the wounded were being carried below by their messmates. Four scorched and maimed forms lay motionless on the low fo'c'sle. There was no need to bestow medical attention upon them.
By this time Denbigh was aware that besides Stirling and himself only three persons remained on the bridge. Neither of them was O'Hara. Nor could he find the mate of theMyra, who on the first alarm had hurried with the others to the bridge.
The sub made his way to the ladder. Two steps did he descend, then his foot encountered nothingness. The rest of the ladder had been swept out of existence.
Grasping the still intact handrail Denbigh lowered himself to the superstructure. Almost the first man he met was Armstrong, who was mopping his cheek with a blood-stained handkerchief.
"It's nothing," replied the mate in answer to Denbigh's enquiry. "Didn't discover until I went below."
"Seen anything of O'Hara?" asked the sub anxiously.
"Yes, I've just carried him below, and I was on my way back to look for you."
"Thanks," said Denbigh briefly. "And what's happened to O'Hara?"
"Only shaken, I believe. He was blown off the bridge with the signal locker for company. They both fetched up against a splinter screen. O'Hara swears it isn't much, but I have my doubts."
The two officers made their way across heaps of debris to the diminutive ward-room. Here lying on a cushion on the floor was O'Hara.
He turned to smile as Denbigh entered but the attempt was a dismal failure. His face was drawn and grey in spite of his tanned complexion.
"My leg feels a bit queer," he said in answer to his chum's enquiry. "No, don't bother about the doctor. He's got quite enough to do. I say, old man, von Riesser's giving us a run for our money, isn't he?"
O'Hara's sentiments were almost identical with those of the rest of the ship's company. Not a word was said concerning the treachery of the kapitan of thePelikan, whose method of handing over his ship was far from being in accordance with the terms of the capitulation. The fact that von Riesser had outwitted them certainly gave them food for reflection, but the unanimous conclusion was that the fun was by no means over.
The falling tide left theCrustaceanhard and fast aground on the slimy mud. With daylight the actual state of affairs could be discerned.
A quarter of a mile up-stream lay the remains of the much-sought-for raider. Only a few bent and buckled ribs and plates showing just above the water's edge marked the spot whence the devastating explosion had emanated. One of her funnels, looking like a distended concertina, had been hurled ashore and had lodged against a clump of palm trees. The mud-flats and the adjoining banks were littered with fragments of metal twisted into weird and fantastic shapes.
Down-stream lay theParadox, now swinging to the young flood. The bore was not now in evidence, since it was the period of neap-tides, and the alteration in the direction of the tidal stream was scarcely perceptible.
TheParadoxhad come off comparatively lightly. To all outward appearances she was intact, with the exception of her wireless gear, the wreckage of which was already being cleared away. Beyond a certain amount of breakage of glass and half a dozen of her crew sustaining slight wounds, the damage done was not in proportion to the danger to which she had been exposed.
TheCrustaceanhad suffered severely. Her fire-control platform and wireless gear had been swept out of existence. There were four deep gashes in her funnel, which was only kept in position by the chain guys. One half of the bridge had vanished; the remaining portion resembled a scrap-iron heap.
Her boats had been badly shattered save one, and that exception was the sea-boat, which was on her way back to the monitor when the explosion took place and escaped injury. Every bit of steel work exposed to the destroyed ship was pitted and blistered, while a heavy mass of plating from thePelikanhad embedded itself in the monitor's quarterdeck.
Below the water-line she was undamaged. On taking soundings in her well no abnormal quantity of water was found. With the assistance of theParadoxit would be a comparatively easy matter to release her from her mud berth at high water.
But other work was imminent. Every minute Kapitan von Riesser and the remainder of thePelikan'screw were increasing the distance between them and their foes. Without delay steps had to be taken to bring the treacherous Germans to bay.