Rounding up the Raider Part 19

"Perhaps they think that our signal is a faked message coming from the enemy," suggested O'Hara. "Try them again: add your name and rank."

Denbigh repeated the message, making the additions his companion had proposed; but there was no reply--not even a facetious one.

The signalman of the destroyer was engaged in taking down another message from the sh.o.r.e, for the Germans, seeing the word 'rats' flashed from an enemy ship, came to the conclusion that it was a personal affront to themselves. Consequently the searchlights had been temporarily shut off and a signalling lamp brought into play to frame a fitting reply to the Englishmen's single-worded challenge.

"We must make a move," announced Denbigh, disappointed at his warning being ignored. "It will be daylight before we get back, if we don't hurry. I'd like to stop and watch the sc.r.a.p, but we can't wait. They may not attack until close on dawn."

Already possessed of the German soldier's rifle, bayonet and ammunition, Denbigh led the way from the sh.o.r.e. As the subs crossed the path along which the telegraph line had been laid, Denbigh severed the copper wire in two places, making the cuts quite fifty feet from each other. The separated part he removed, rolling it into a small coil.

"They'll have a bit of a bother to find that, I fancy," he remarked.

"Unless they bring a spare length with them that telephone will be useless for the next couple of hours."

"They'll know it has been deliberately cut, though," added the Irishman. "If we had wrenched the wire apart they might have thought that some animal had barged into it. There'll be some strafing over it."

As he spoke the air was rent by a terrific detonation, followed almost immediately by the bark of numerous quick-firers. The attack had commenced.

Without a word both officers turned and raced recklessly towards the sh.o.r.e.

As Denbigh had foreseen, two British destroyers took part in the attempt to settle the _Pelikan_. Deceived by the position of the searchlight on sh.o.r.e both boats headed towards the glare like moths to a lighted candle.

At a distance of five hundred yards from the edge of the lagoon the leading boat ported helm and let fly a couple of torpedoes from her midship deck-tubes. Straight as arrows sped the two deadly missiles, but instead of striking the hull of the _Pelikan_ they exploded simultaneously against the rocks.

Instantly the guns on the raider and those in the masked battery on sh.o.r.e opened a furious fire. The leading destroyer, caught by the tornado of sh.e.l.l, was hulled again and again. With her funnels riddled like sieves, her deck gear swept away, and in a sinking condition, she turned for the open sea. Failing in that object her lieutenant-commander ran her aground on the outer reef just as she was on the point of foundering.

The second destroyer, blinded by the glare of the searchlights, and finding that she was the target for two distinct batteries, neither of which was in the spot where the _Pelikan_ was supposed to be, turned about, screening her movements with smoke from her funnels.

Slowing down outside the lagoon she picked up the survivors from her consort and steamed out to sea.

From the Germans' point of view it was a victory: the British, undaunted by the loss of one of their boats, preferred to call it a "reconnaissance in force", with the object of compelling the enemy to unmask his batteries. The main attack would be made by long-range gunnery, and to that end the three monitors, then lying in Zanzibar Harbour, were ordered to make for the mouth of the Mohoro River.

Denbigh and O'Hara, having the mortification of seeing the destroyers repulsed with loss--the action was over in five minutes--again set out on their return journey.

In spite of the aid afforded by the compa.s.s the subs found, on emerging from the forest, that they were a long way out of their reckoning.

They had hit the banks of the Mohoro River right enough, but either a considerable distance above or below the spot where the _Myra_ lay moored.

The mists had rolled away. It was now very dark, yet had the tramp been anywhere in the vicinity the subs would have been able to discern her. There were ominous sounds: those of huge creatures wading over the mud-flats. Hippopotami and crocodiles were emerging from the river.

"Up or down?" asked O'Hara.

"Neither, by this bank," replied Denbigh, gripping his rifle. "It doesn't sound healthy. We'll cut inland a bit and try our luck up-stream."

"Why up-stream?" asked the Irishman.

"Because I think I've tumbled to it," answered his chum. "I've been carrying this rifle on my left shoulder for the greater part of the last hour. I have also been holding the compa.s.s within a few inches of the steel barrel. It was a silly thing to do, I admit, but I didn't think of it at the time. Consequently the needle deviated and threw us out of our course. We've gone more to the left of our outward track, and that brings us down stream."

"It's getting light, I believe," remarked O'Hara after a ten-minutes detour.

"Yes," replied Denbigh. "It's the false dawn. It will get pitch-dark for a little while before the real daybreak. Push on. This light will serve us a good turn."

Once more the adventurous twain gained the river bank. This time their efforts met with success, for showing clearly in the half-light of the false dawn was the _Myra_.

"Nearly slack water," announced Denbigh. "We're in luck. Keep under cover in case the watch are feeling particularly energetic."

While awaiting the return of darkness, Denbigh retrieved the handkerchief he had left as a mark, and wrapping it round the breech of the captured rifle, buried the weapon in the soft earth. It might, he argued, come in handy within the next few days. Beyond that time the rifle would be rapidly attacked by rust, for on the East Coast of Africa the action of corrosion is almost as quick as in the moist air of the Gold Coast.

He was dubious concerning the bayonet. It had a much larger blade than the British article, and its back was furnished with a formidable double row of teeth to within six inches of the point. With it a man might fell a fairly large-size tree in an hour.

"Pity to waste it," declared Denbigh. "Only it's too long to hide under my clothes without great risk of its being spotted. On the other hand, it may come in jolly useful."

"Break it in two," suggested his chum. "Even four inches of the blade might be handy."

Wrapping his coat round the end of the blade in order to protect his hands, the sub brought the flat of the steel smartly against his knee.

To his disgust the bayonet did not snap, as he fully expected it to do.

It bent, and instead of flying back when the pressure was released it remained bent.

"Good old Solingen steel!" exclaimed Denbigh disgustedly. "Same rotten stuff that our cutla.s.s-bayonets were made of in the '85 Soudan campaign."

All efforts to break the bayonet failed. The metal was so non-elastic that the sub gave up the attempt and hurled it into the mud.

"Time!" he exclaimed. "It's getting dark again."

The men stripped, and made their clothes into bundles as before. To return to the _Myra_ with their garments shedding streams of turgid water would never do, since they had no other clothes.

"Ugh!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed O'Hara as his feet touched the loathsome slime. "I can't say I'm hankering after a mud bath. Can't say I like the rotten turnip-smelling water any better."

"Dry up!" cautioned Denbigh under his breath.

"Wish I could," retorted the irrepressible Irishman. "Sure I'm wet altogether."

They swam side by side, making use of the "dog-stroke", as there was less risk of attracting attention by an involuntary splashing.

It was a nerve-racking ordeal, for the darkness was now intense.

Hippopotami were noisy not so very far off; there was imminent danger from crocodiles, that, floating like logs in the water, were practically invisible until one was almost within arm's length of them.

But on top of these unpleasant possibilities, the haunting dread that the rope ladder might have been removed was uppermost in Denbigh's mind.

As the swimmers approached mid-stream, they found there was still a strong current. It was indeed a hard struggle to make the ship.

Well-nigh exhausted, the two chums gained their goal. Thank heaven the end of the ladder was still trailing in the water.

For some minutes the subs contented themselves by hanging on to the ropes and regaining their breath. Then Denbigh, a.s.suring himself that the key to the cabin was still hanging from a cord round his neck, began to ascend. When his head was level with the bulwarks he peered cautiously along the deck. He could see or hear no one. Had a sentry been standing for'ard, it would have been possible to discern his outlines against the gloom. He would have much rather seen the fellow and made arrangements accordingly, than to be in ignorance of where the sentry was, since it was unlikely that all the watch on deck were skulking.

Denbigh ascended another rung and waited again. This time he heard voices speaking in low guttural tones. The watch were sheltering in the fore-peak.

Rea.s.sured on this point, the sub leapt lightly over the rail. As he did so his bare feet came in contact with something soft. He had pitched fairly upon a fat German, who, heedless of the risk of sleeping in the open air, had coiled himself up under the lee of the bulwarks.

The shock threw Denbigh to the deck. Quickly regaining his feet, he saw the astonished German struggling to rise. Before he could do so the sub dealt him a powerful left-hander. Missing the point of the Teuton's chin, Denbigh's clenched fist struck him heavily on the nose.

Thoroughly scared by the apparition of a stalwart black, the man took to his heels. Yelling with fear, his cries for a.s.sistance were rendered indistinguishable owing to the fact that he held both hands pressed tightly over his nose, which was leaving a purple trail on the deck.