With Beatty off Jutland Part 16

Altering her course, the trawler bore down upon the _Calder_ and slowed down within hailing distance to leeward.

"Come you all aboard," shouted the Danish skipper, a tall, broad-shouldered descendant of a Viking forbear. "We save you. Plenty room for all."

"We don't want to abandon ship yet," replied Sefton. "We may weather it yet."

"An' I think that you answer so," rejoined the skipper. "You British seamans brave mans. Englishmans goot; Danes goot; Germans no goot. Me stand by an' 'elp."

"Seen anything of the battle?" enquired the sub.

The Danish skipper nodded his head emphatically.

"Germans run for port as if Satan after them," he declared; then, realizing that he had paid the Huns a compliment, he hastened to add: "No, no; Germans too fond of wickedness to run from Satan--it is from the English that they run. Ships sunk everywhere, dead men float by thousands: we no fish for months in these waters."

This was the first intimation that the _Calder's_ crew received of Jellicoe's failure to combine annihilation with victory. Victory it undoubtedly was; but, although the Grand Fleet had succeeded in getting between the enemy and his North Sea bases, the Huns, favoured by darkness and fog, had contrived to elude the toils, and were skeltering for safety with a haste bordering upon panic. Jellicoe and Beatty had done everything that courage and science could devise. They had inflicted far greater losses on the Huns than the latter did upon us.

And, what is more, the British fleet "held the lists", while the boastful Germans, crowding into Wilhelmshaven and other ports, spent their time in spreading lying reports of their colossal victory over the hated English.

"You no look surprise at the news," continued the master of the Danish trawler. "Me think you cheer like mad."

"Of course, we're glad," replied Sefton, "but it is not quite what we expected, you know. We're sorry that the enemy got away."

"Me, too," agreed the Dane. "Germany treat little Denmark badly. She bully; we cannot do anything. Shall we run alongside an' take you and your crew off?"

Sefton gave a glance to windward. It seemed as if the seas were moderating. His reluctance to abandon ship increased. The _Calder_ had played her part, and it seemed base ingrat.i.tude to leave her to founder.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "THE 'CALDER' HAD PLAYED HER PART, AND IT SEEMED BASE INGRAt.i.tUDE TO LEAVE HER TO FOUNDER"]

"I don't think she's settling down any further, sir," replied one of the carpenter's crew in answer to the sub's question. "Bulkheads are holding well."

"Then we'll carry on," declared the sub, and, warmly thanking the Dane for his humanity, he courteously declined the offer of a.s.sistance.

"Goot luck, then!" replied the skipper of the trawler as he thrust the wheel hard over and ordered easy ahead. Yet not for another hour did he part company. Keeping at a discreet distance from the labouring destroyer, he remained until, the sea having moderated, and the _Calder_ showing no further signs of distress, he came to the conclusion that the battered British craft stood a fair chance of making port.

For the next couple of hours the _Calder_ was continually pa.s.sing wreckage, scorched and shattered woodwork testifying to the devastating effect of modern explosives. The destroyer was pa.s.sing over the scene of one of the many isolated engagements that composed the memorable battle and certain British victory of Jutland.

"A boat or a raft of sorts, sir," reported a seaman, pointing to a floating object a couple of miles away, and slightly on the _Calder's_ starboard bow.

Sefton brought his binoculars to bear upon the objects indicated by the look-out. At regular intervals, as it rose on the crests of the waves, a large raft known, after its inventor, as the "Carley" was visible. An exaggerated lifebuoy, with a "sparred" platform so arranged that in the event of the appliance being completely overset the "deck" would still be available, the "Carley" has undoubtedly proved its value in the present war. Practically indestructible, not easily set on fire by sh.e.l.ls, and with an almost inexhaustible reserve of buoyancy, the raft is capable of supporting twenty men with ease.

Slowly the _Calder_ approached the life-buoy. She was doing a bare 3 knots; while, able to use only one propeller, she was hard on her helm.

"Wot are they--strafed 'Uns or some of our blokes?" enquired an ordinary seaman of his "raggie"; for, although the men on the raft were now clearly visible, their almost total absence of clothing made it impossible to determine their nationality.

"Dunno, mate," replied his chum. "'Uns, perhaps; they don't seem in no 'urry to see us."

"'Uns or no 'Uns," rejoined the first speaker, "skipper's goin' to pull 'em out of the ditch, if it's only to show 'em that we ain't like them U boat pirates."

"Strikes me they're pretty well done in," chimed in another. "There's not one of 'em as has the strength of a steerage rat."

Huddled on the raft were fifteen almost naked human beings. Some were roughly bandaged. All were blackened by smoke and scorched by exposure to the sun and salt air. Another half-dozen were in the water, supporting themselves by one hand grasping the life-lines of the raft.

By this time they had observed the _Calder's_ approach; but, content that they had been seen, the exhausted men engaged in no demonstration of welcome. They sat listlessly, with their salt-rimmed eyes fixed upon their rescuers.

At a great risk of crushing the men in the water, the destroyer closed.

The "Carley" was secured and brought alongside, and the work of transferring the survivors commenced. Without a.s.sistance the majority would never have been able to gain the _Calder's_ deck, so pitiful was their condition owing to a night's exposure to the cold.

They were British seamen, but Sefton forbore to question them until they had received attention from the hard-worked Dr. Stirling, and been supplied with food and drink from the already sadly-depleted stores.

When the men had recovered sufficiently to relate their adventures, they told a typical story of British pluck and heroism. They were part of the crew of the destroyer _Velocity_, and had taken part in a night attack upon von Hipper's squadron.

In the midst of the melee a hostile light cruiser, tearing at 27 knots, rammed the _Velocity_, cutting her completely in twain just abaft the after engine-room bulkhead. Swallowed up in the darkness, the stern portion of the destroyer floated for nearly ten minutes before it foundered. Of what happened to the remaining and larger part of the vessel the survivors had no definite knowledge, although some were under the impression that it was towed away under fire by another destroyer.

Left with sufficient time to cut away a "Carley", the remnant of the _Velocity's_ crew found themselves adrift, with the still engaging vessels steaming farther and farther away.

Without food and almost dest.i.tute of clothing, for in antic.i.p.ation of a swim the men had taken off the remainder of their already scanty "fighting-kit", their position was a precarious one. The rising seas threatened to sweep them from the over-crowded raft, while the bitterly cold night air numbed their limbs. Yet, with the characteristic light-heartedness of the British tar, the men pa.s.sed the time in singing rousing choruses, even the wounded joining in.

At daybreak they were pretty well exhausted. No vessel was in sight.

They were without food and water, and unable to take any steps to propel their unwieldy, heavily-laden raft in any direction.

Presently a large German battle-cruiser loomed through the mist. The Huns must have had a bad attack of nerves, for, contrary to all the dictates of humanity, they let fly a dozen quick-firers at the raft.

Possibly they mistook the low-lying object for a submarine. Fortunately the sh.e.l.ls flew wide.

Then, to the surprise of the remnant of the )Velocity's* crew, the German ship suddenly heaved her bows clear of the water and disappeared in a great smother of foam and a cloud of smoke.

A rousing cheer--it is wonderful how much sound men can give vent to even when almost dead through exhaustion--hailed this unexpected deliverance from one of many perils, and the seamen settled themselves to resume their prolonged discomforts, buoyed up by the unshaken hope that a British vessel would bear down to their a.s.sistance.

It was indeed remarkable how quickly most of the _Velocity's_ men regained their spirits after being received on board the _Calder_.

One, in particular, was displaying acute anxiety as to the condition of a bundle of one-pound notes, which, sodden with sea-water, he had carefully removed from the pouch of his solitary garment--a body-belt.

Amidst a fire of good-natured chaff, the man spread his precious belongings out to dry--an almost impossible task owing to the showers of spray--until, taken compa.s.sion upon by a sympathetic stoker, he went below to the stokehold and successfully completed the delicate operation.

Another survivor stuck gamely to a wooden tobacco-box. His messmates knew the secret, but, when questioned by the _Calder's_ men, he cautiously opened the lid, displaying a couple of white rats. Before going into action, the man, having doubts as to the safety of his pets in the fo'c'sle, had stealthily removed them aft, placing the box in the officers' pantry. When the _Velocity_ was rammed he did not forget his dumb friends. At the risk of his life, he went below and secured the box. Throughout the long night he kept the animals dry, only surrendering them to his chums when his turn came to leap overboard and lighten the already overcrowded life-buoy.

The rest of the day pa.s.sed almost without incident. Food was running short, for, in spite of the sadly depleted number of the _Calder's_ crew, there was barely another day's provisions left on board that had not been spoiled by fire and water. In addition, the augmentation of the ship's company by the rescued crew made the shortage still more acute.

Just as night was coming on a petty officer approached Sefton and saluted.

"For'ard bulkhead's giving, sir," he reported, as coolly as if he were announcing a most trivial occurrence. "There's four feet of water in the for'ard stokehold."

The safety of the _Calder_ and her crew depended upon that transverse wall of steel. Once this bulkhead yielded to the terrific pressure of water, no human ingenuity and resource could save the battered destroyer from plunging to the bed of the North Sea.

CHAPTER XV--A Day of Suspense

"Confound the wretched thing, Sefton!" exclaimed Major-General Crosthwaite explosively.