Rounding up the Raider Part 29

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 a.s.sisted 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."

CHAPTER XXI

Von Eckenstein's Surprise

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. _Actaeon_. 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 a.s.sist 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."

Rea.s.sured, 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 sc.r.a.ps 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 old _Crustacean_ does 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 the _Pelikan_ to 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 the _Crustacean_, bringing his hand down upon the shoulder of the bashful mate of the _Myra_, after Denbigh had related the circ.u.mstances in which the _Pelikan_ was 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 sh.o.r.e defences.

"It strikes me pretty forcibly that you'll come in most handy," said Stirling. "It's not the _Pelikan_ that is now our princ.i.p.al 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 the _Crustacean_ is 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 pa.s.s harmlessly under her bottom. If, however, a torpedo did explode, there's a cellular s.p.a.ce 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 sh.e.l.l 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 ship _Simplicita_, 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. The _Simplicita_, 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 the _Simplicita_ joined the flotilla the senior ship hoisted another signal. It ran:

"Boat under sail four miles S.S.W. _Crustacean_ to 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 gla.s.ses.

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 monitors _Paradox_ and _Eureka_, 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 the _Crustacean_ was 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," a.s.serted Armstrong. "I wouldn't mind laying odds that she's one of the _Pelikan's_ boats 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 the _Pelikan's_ crowd. 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 the _Pelikan_ and seven seamen; the rest, to the number of about a dozen, were reservists transhipped from the _San 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 rehea.r.s.ed 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.