The Flying Boat Part 20

He glanced from right to left, undecided whether it would not be advisable to strike inland and return to the river lower down; for the channel was pretty straight for a long distance, and the vessel, if it flew directly forward, would still be in danger from the guns. In a few moments, however, he decided that there was even more risk in leaving the river if any mischance should happen to the boat. For one thing, the longer he flew, the more petrol he consumed; for another, if the engine failed, and he was forced to descend, on land he would be at the mercy of any wandering predatory band, whereas on the water he could always drift on the current, with some chance of safety if he did not happen to be observed. Accordingly he flew straight ahead, intending to sink upon the surface as soon as a bend in the river hid the vessel from view.

In another half-minute the machine guns recommenced firing. The aim of the gunners appeared to be even wilder than before. Chung Pi and the servants had recovered courage enough to rise to their knees and peer over the edge of the canvas side at the gunboat far behind. The captain laughed as he heard the report of the guns, and made a jocular remark about the paltry skill of Su Fing's gunners. There was no longer the whistle of bullets flying around, nor the slight ripping sound of the shots pa.s.sing through the planes. It seemed that all danger was over.

The flying boat was now skirting the edge of the swamp in which it had been concealed by the river pirates, and Errington remembered that Burroughs had never heard the full story of that strange episode. He had been tempted to refer to the matter during the lunch with Reinhardt, but the German was in a sense their guest; and since Burroughs did not mention it, Errington said nothing. After all it was Burroughs' affair.

The story would keep until they reached Sui-Fu.

They were now about three-quarters of a mile from the gunboat, and Burroughs, with his eye on a bend in the course a short distance ahead, just where the painted rocks gave warning that the water-way was not clear, was congratulating himself that at that point he might safely descend. Suddenly the firing behind redoubled in fury; it seemed that the gunners had realized that in a few seconds their chance would be gone. Bullets sang around; the Chinamen again ducked their heads below the gunwale; and once or twice there were the ominous sounds of bullets tearing through the planes, or flattening themselves against the metal parts of the framework.

They were within a hundred yards of safety when a double catastrophe happened. Almost at the same instant the engine ceased to work and one of the stays was cut clean through. In the excitement and anxiety of the moment Burroughs was unaware that he was wounded, and a cry uttered by Chung Pi pa.s.sed quite unnoticed. The vessel tilted; for a terrible second it seemed that it must turn completely over; but Burroughs by a dexterous movement succeeded in partially righting it, at the same time shifting the rudder so as to steer to the right over the swamp. He had at once recognized that to fall into the river would have thrown the whole party into the hands of the rebels. Flight and hydroplaning were equally impossible; and the only chance of evading capture was to steer over the swamp. He had seen at a glance that the intricate network of channels, overgrown with weeds, might furnish a temporary refuge until the vessel's injuries had been examined and if possible repaired.

The momentum of the boat carried it perhaps a quarter of a mile after the accident happened. Burroughs was able to bring it safely to the surface of one of the channels.

"Here's a pretty look-out!" he said to Errington. "They'll see what has happened, run down at full speed, and be up with us in ten minutes at the most. Luckily the gunboat can't follow us into this swamp; they'll have to lower boats to find us; we've got a few minutes to discover a hiding-place."

"That's all right, old man," said Errington cheerfully. "I know this swamp. We'll give them a chase at any rate."

CHAPTER XIX

HIDE AND SEEK

At this point Errington a.s.sumed the direction of affairs--much to the contentment of Burroughs, who had now learnt by the pain in his shoulder that he had not run the gauntlet unscathed. But Errington was by no means happy. It was one thing to enter the swamp by the broad channel from the river, and quite another to come down into it from the air. He had at once thought of seeking out the deep reed-screened recess where he had discovered the flying boat. The huts, of course, might be occupied; in that case some other hiding-place must be found; but the fact that they had been empty on the occasion of his first visit seemed to show that they were inhabited only occasionally, and by good fortune they might be deserted now. It was scarcely probable that the crew of the gunboat were the same men who had been engaged in Reinhardt's little act of piracy, so that only by the most extraordinary coincidence would they spontaneously make for the same hiding-place. If he could only discover it, Errington hoped that the boat might remain concealed while the necessary repairs were made.

But it was nearly dark. In such a labyrinth of waterways one might go hither and thither perhaps for hours without coming into the channel leading to the clear pool. Still the attempt must be made; and there was a chance that even if the former hiding-place were not discovered, some other secluded spot might be found that would serve equally well. The danger was that two or three boats would be employed in searching for them, one or another of which might be lucky.

There was no time to be lost. The first thing was to fold back the planes, which were an enc.u.mbrance to the vessel at all times on the water, and especially among the reed-beds. The next thing was to get out the punting poles with which the boat was provided, and propel it up the channel; the farther they got from the river the better.

The Chinese servants plied the poles, while Errington steered, and Burroughs sat near Chung Pi, condoling with him on his misfortune in being wounded at the eleventh hour.

"It is a mark of honour for the captain to be wounded when the private escapes," said Chung Pi; but as it was difficult for either Lo San or Chin Tai to interpret while attending to their task, the two wounded men relapsed into silence, regarding each other with mutual sympathy.

An altercation sprang up between the two punters. Each declared that the other was a fool, and would wreck the boat. Lo San, presuming on his acquaintance with the swamp, let fall slighting remarks on Chin Tai's ignorance, which exasperated his fellow-servant. But mindful of Errington's threats on a former occasion, they subdued their voices; and since they spoke in Chinese, the Englishmen never knew what insults they hurled at each other.

Errington thought his best course was to steer straight up the channel into which the boat had fallen, rather than diverge to right or left into the cross channels to which he came at frequent intervals. The sky was growing darker and darker; it would soon be impossible to proceed, and the prospect of spending the night in comparatively open water, with the chance of being stumbled upon by the pursuers, or spied in the morning, was exceedingly damping to the spirits. A very few minutes after the vessel had been got under way, the throb of the gunboat's engine was distinctly heard; and Errington, ordering the men to keep silent, shortly afterwards caught the sound of voices and then the thud of oars from the direction of the river. There was little doubt that two, if not three, boats had been lowered from the gunboat, and were already coming at a good pace into the swamp. This was, however, so broad that the fugitives were fairly safe for the present. The pursuers might, indeed, by some unlucky chance, know of the hiding-place which Errington was seeking; but they could not have any reason to guess that Errington knew of it, unless they had among them some of the men from whom he had escaped before; and in any case the growing darkness would render it as difficult for them as for Errington to make their way there.

For some time the vessel was punted slowly along; the sounds of pursuit drew nearer; and Errington almost despaired of succeeding in his quest when Lo San gave a low exclamation, and signed eagerly to his master to steer to the right. In another minute the boat emerged into the pool.

To cross it was the work of only a few seconds, and Errington recognized with great relief the opening of the narrow, tortuous pa.s.sage through which the boat had been towed. Leaving the steering wheel, he got over the side into the water, and went to the nose of the boat, so that he might the more easily prevent it from sticking in the reed-beds. Thus, wading and punting, they forced the vessel through the pa.s.sage until they came within a few yards of the patch of dry land.

Here they stopped for a few minutes, while Errington stole forward and reconnoitred. There were the huts, just distinguishable in the darkness. All was quiet. The same few broken sampans were drawn up on the sh.o.r.e. In the midst of the open s.p.a.ce was the cooking-stove at which the old Chinawoman had been broiling fish. Errington, with many a cautious look around, stepped on to the sh.o.r.e and walked rapidly but stealthily up to the huts. He paused at each, listening. No voices, no snores, came from within them. The place was deserted.

Returning to the boat, he brought it from out its shelter among the reeds, and soon had it drawn up for a few feet on the muddy sh.o.r.e.

Every one of the party breathed more freely. They sat on the sampans to rest. For some little time no one spoke; they all listened intently: would the pursuers come to the same spot? They could hear voices, faint in the distance; but the sounds seemed to be receding. It appeared certain that, whether they knew of it or not, the pursuers were not at present rowing in the direction of the hiding-place. Presently absolute silence reigned; and Errington reckoned that they were lucky in having approached so late in the evening, when the wild fowl had settled themselves; otherwise they might have been betrayed by the birds'

flight.

"We can't see what's wrong with the machine in the darkness," said Burroughs at length, in a whisper; "and we daren't strike a light."

"No; the only thing we can do is to wait for morning," replied Errington. "We shall pa.s.s a wretched night, old man."

"It might be worse. I only wish I hadn't got this whack in the shoulder; it stings horribly."

"I can bathe it and tie it up; hope it's not serious; but if we can get the machine mended we shan't be long running down to Sui-Fu in the morning, and then we'll soon put you to rights."

Errington took a dipper down to the water, filled it, and returned to bathe Burroughs' wound. Lo San met him.

"Captin he glumble velly much," he said. "He say wantchee chow-chow; long time he hab catchee nuffin to eat."

Burroughs had brought a little food from Sui-Fu--enough to provide himself and the two Chinamen with meals for a day. A portion of these provisions still remained; but knowing Chung Pi's appet.i.te, he doubted whether the captain would be satisfied if the food were divided.

"Tell him he can have a crust of bread, a sausage end, and a mug of beer," he said. "We haven't got any melon seeds or sam-shu."

Chung Pi gobbled the food with great celerity, but drank the beer in slow sips, having been a.s.sured that he could have no more. He still grumbled very much, and it struck Burroughs suddenly that cold and hunger might so work on the captain that he might be tempted to betray them. Henceforth he would be a marked man so far as the rebels were concerned; and the chance to reinstate himself in the favour of his chief, Su Fing, might prevail over the prospect of advancement at which he had mysteriously hinted.

"You two men keep your eye on Chung Pi," said Burroughs to the servants.

"He's not to stir from the sampan he's on. Show him a knife if he objects, but don't use it."

Burroughs need not have been alarmed. Chung Pi slept through the greater part of the night; and in the intervals of wakefulness he comforted himself for the cold and hunger he felt by blissful imaginings of plenty of sam-shu and melon seeds in a not distant future.

It was a wearisome, comfortless night for the two Englishmen. The cold was intense, and the want of food rendered them the less able to bear it. Burroughs' shoulder, too, gave him much pain, and became very stiff. During that long darkness the friends talked of many things--of old times, of recent experiences, of the future. Errington related the full story of his recovery of the flying boat; Burroughs in return told at greater length than he had done in the yamen the pilgrimage which Lo San had undertaken for his master. Errington said nothing to Lo San at the time; but he resolved to requite his servant's devotion substantially if they got safe home.

They discussed one matter about which Errington was troubled. His dismissal from the service of Ehrlich Sohne was in one sense a relief; he wished to have nothing more to do with Reinhardt, and remembering that the German held a cheque for three months' salary, he was glad to think that here was a means of liquidating his debt. But he felt much depressed about the future. His late firm was of good standing, and to be dismissed by them for what Reinhardt called "irregularities" made him fear that other employers would hesitate to take him into their service.

"That's absolute rot," said Burroughs, when Errington spoke of his fears. "n.o.body will think any the worse of you in the end. Making an a.s.s of yourself----"

"Rub it in!" interrupted Errington gloomily.

"Well, we all do it some time or other; and making an a.s.s of yourself isn't a crime, or the prisons would be pretty full. There are plenty of firms as good as Ehrlich; if I didn't know how touchy you are I'd suggest your joining us; the pater----"

"Dry up! D'you think I'll ask your governor for a crib when I'm a rank failure, a regular rotter? A pretty fine thing that 'ud be, in return for all his kindness!"

"There you are! I knew that's how you'd take it. A failure! Why, you're no end better at business than I am. Everybody knows it. Look here, just shut down on those idiotic notions of yours. Chuck 'em away.

A fellow that never made a mistake never made anything, somebody said.

It's jolly well true. Of course, if a fellow goes on making mistakes, can't learn, hasn't got the sense or the will-power to pull up, he is a rotter, and there's no good disguising it. But many a juggins has turned out a jolly fine chap; in a year or two you'll laugh at yourself, and----"

"And thank my stars I had such a pal as the Mole, even if he does lecture a bit. Why didn't you say all that and other things before?"

"Well, you know--I--well, I suppose I was a juggins too, but you'd have shied a brick at my head if I had, wouldn't you?"

What more they said need not be told. That talk in the dead of night, under the silent stars, knit them closer together in a friendship which neither time nor circ.u.mstance will ever break asunder.

As soon as there was a glimmer of light they inspected the vessel. The damage was greater than they supposed. The petrol pipe union had been snapped; one of the stays of the starboard plane was broken in two; and a bullet had pierced a hole near the bottom of one of the petrol cans, the contents of which had almost entirely trickled away. They had only another half can of the spirit left. This was a very disturbing discovery, but it suggested at the same time what a lucky escape they had had. They might well have expected that the heat caused by the impact of the bullet would set the petrol on fire.

"Rather a long job before us," said Errington; "that is, if we try to mend the stay."

"The pipe won't take long," said Burroughs. "There's a bit of rubber tubing in the locker. We can stick the broken ends of the pipe into that. The stay is a different matter."