Rounding up the Raider Part 28

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 circ.u.mstance 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 a.s.sistance 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 rec.u.mbent forms.

Denbigh, crouched aft, kept an occasional look-out, while at intervals he baled with half a coco-nut sh.e.l.l.

The sea showed no signs of moderating. The prospect of spending a night afloat in a mere c.o.c.kle-sh.e.l.l 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-sh.e.l.l. 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 the _Pelikan's_ mob, 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 G.o.dsend."

"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 the _Pelikan_ was 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 pa.s.sed 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 pa.s.sing to windward of us," declared Denbigh. "Give them a couple of rounds."

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.