The Last of the _Nichi Maru_
In silence the three Subs left the doomed _Nichi Maru_ and entered the
waiting boat. At the word of command the men pushed off and rowed
towards the modern pirate.
The disguised vessel had now swung round and was lying motionless at a
distance of two cables' length from her prize. The hull was painted a
light yellow, with a broad black band. Her funnels were buff with
black tops. On her stern were the words, _Zwaan_--Rotterdam.
"She's no more the _Zwaan_ of Rotterdam than I am," cogitated Denbigh.
He was right in his surmise. The vessel was originally the
_Pelikan_--a supplementary Hamburg-Amerika Line boat. On the outbreak
of the war she was homeward bound from South America, with, as was the
case with all liners flying the German flag, an armament of
quick-firers stowed away in her hold.
Unfortunately for Kaiser Wilhelm's plans the abrupt entry of Great
Britain into the arena of war had nipped in the bud the activities of
German commerce raiders. A few ran amok until promptly rounded up and
settled by the ubiquitous British cruisers. Others fled for neutral
ports. Amongst them was the _Pelikan_, whose captain, with
considerable astuteness, contrived to make for a harbour belonging to
an obscure South American Republic.
Before doing so he had fallen in with the light cruiser _Karlsruhe_--a
craft doomed shortly afterwards to end her career at the hands of her
own crew rather than face an action that would end either in
destruction or ignominious capture--and from her received a number of
additional officers and men.
For a twelvemonth or more the _Pelikan_ lay hidden. Lavish sums
expended in bribery sealed the mouths of the grasping officials of the
port, in addition to procuring coal and stores to enable the German
vessel to put to sea whenever an opportunity offered.
At length the chance came. Acting under wireless orders from Berlin
the _Pelikan_ was to make a dash for the Atlantic, do as much damage as
she possibly could to shipping of the Allies, and finally attempt to
reach Dar es Salaam, the principal port of German East Africa. Here,
should she succeed in evading the British patrols, she was to transfer
her crew, armament, and munitions to shore to assist the land forces of
the Colony against a threatened advance from Rhodesia.
Accordingly the _Pelikan_ became the _Zwaan_. Disguised by a different
colour paint and supplied with forged ship's papers she easily evaded
the lax authority of the neutral port and made for the open sea.
A course was shaped to cut the Dutch East Indies liners' route in the
latitude of Cape Verde. Then, following in a parallel direction, the
track usually taken by the vessels she was impersonating, the pseudo
_Zwaan_ headed due south.
Kapitan von Riesser, her commanding officer, was a resourceful and
crafty Hun. He was steeped in the doctrine of "frightfulness", but in
the present instance there were limits.
Had he been the commander of a U boat he would not have hesitated to
send the _Nichi Maru_ to the bottom without warning, for a German
submarine could strike a fatal blow and not show herself during the
attack. The _Pelikan_---to revert to her original name--was not
capable of emulating the methods of German unterseebooten without risk
of subsequent capture. And as the possibility of being taken by a
British warship always loomed upon von Riesser's mental horizon, he was
determined to tread warily.
The fear of reprisals alone kept him within the bounds of discretion as
laid down by up-to-date rules of warfare. He might sink any
merchant-vessel that fell into his clutches, provided he gave the
passengers and crew time to take to their boats.
Three days before sighting the _Nichi Maru_ the _Pelikan_ had been
stopped and examined by a British cruiser. The boarding-officer knew
neither German nor Dutch, and conversation had to be conducted in
English. The ship's papers were apparently in order. The British
lieutenant failed to pay sufficient attention to the bulky deck-gear
that concealed the raider's quick-firers; nor did he discover that,
hidden between double bulkheads abaft the engine-room, two
torpedo-tubes, removed from the _Karlsruhe_, were ready for instant use
should occasion arise.
The cruiser had, indeed, a very narrow escape of sharing the fate of a
British battleship that was torpedoed in the Channel on a dark and
stormy night, the deadly missile being launched from a vessel sailing
under the Dutch flag. Only Kapitan von Riesser's doubts as to the
immediate success of a torpedo attack prevented him putting his
treacherous design into effect. A stricken cruiser, he knew, could use
her guns with tremendous results, and he had no wish to lay down his
life for the Fatherland while an easier course lay open to him.
Accordingly the boarding officer, with many apologies for having
detained a neutral vessel, returned to the cruiser, which immediately
steamed northwards, while the _Pelikan_ proceeded on her course.
Having assumed that the British cruiser was well out of her way, the
raider began to send out wireless calls, limiting the radius of action
to about fifty miles. She did not call in vain, for the _Nichi Maru_,
picking up the appeal for aid, hastened to the _Pelikan's_ assistance
and, all unsuspecting, fell a victim to her captor.
During the "round-up" of the passengers, Kapitan von Riesser had been
informed by signal of the presence of three British naval officers on
board the _Nichi Maru_, and instructions were asked as to their
disposal.
The kapitan resolved the problem in his mind. He could not murder the
prisoners without the news being conveyed by the rest of the passengers
of the Japanese liner. If they were brought on board the _Pelikan_,
they would be a source of danger should the ship again be overhauled by
a patrolling cruiser, unless----
He consulted the ship's surgeon. Apparently the latter's advice was
satisfactory. In addition, should the _Pelikan_ arrive at Dar es
Salaam with three British naval officers on board as prisoners, well
and good. If, on the other hand, the vessel were captured on the high
seas, the prisoners would no doubt be willing to testify to the fact
that Kapitan von Riesser had committed no unpardonable breach of the
usages of war. From which it will be seen that von Riesser was always
considering how to save his own skin in the event of capture.
"Up--at once!" ordered the unter-leutnant as the boat containing
Denbigh and his companions ran alongside the lowered
accommodation-ladder of the _Pelikan_. The German did not hesitate to
show his arrogance; but he was severely snubbed by his kapitan.
"I must apologize, gentlemen," began von Riesser in good English as the
British officers came over the side. "My subordinate, Herr Klick, has
allowed his zeal to outrun his discretion. It is necessary for me to
detain you. I know you will bow to the inevitable and recognize that
it is the fortune of war. I will speak to you again shortly!"
The kapitan hurried off, leaving Denbigh and his fellow-prisoners
standing close to the head of the accommodation-ladder. Beyond the
fact that a sentry stood within ten feet of them, no attempt was made
to place them under restraint. They were free to speak, and to watch
the scene that was being enacted a few hundred yards from the vessel to
which they had been removed.
The _Nichi Maru_ was lowering her boats rapidly yet with admirable
discipline. Without accident the heavy lifeboats with their human
freights took the water. As soon as the falls were cast off, the crews
rowed to a safe distance, where they lay on their oars and awaited the
end of the huge liner.
With some minutes to spare, the work of abandoning the vessel was
completed. The captain was the last to leave, the imperturbable look
upon his olive features masking the rage and grief that gripped his
mind.
The two German boats still lay alongside. Presently half a dozen
Teutons hurriedly scrambled into the waiting craft, which without delay
were rowed quickly toward the _Pelikan_.
Three muffled reports came almost simultaneously from the interior of
the doomed liner. These were followed by two more at comparatively
long intervals. The _Nichi Maru_ heeled slightly, and began to settle
slowly by the bows.
The ship took her time. The wreaths of fleecy steam mingled with
denser columns of smoke that issued from 'tween decks. Then, as the in
rushing water came in contact with the furnaces, the vessel was
enveloped in a cloud of eddying pungent fumes.
When the cloud dispersed, the _Nichi Maru's_ bows were level with the
water, while her stern was raised until the blades of her now
motionless propellers were clear of the agitated sea.
Lower and lower sank the doomed ship. At frequent intervals, small
explosions of compressed air took place. The sea was strewn with
fragments of floating wreckage.
"She's going!" whispered Stirling.
The liner recovered herself. For a moment it seemed as if she were
floating on an even keel. Then, with a convulsive effort, she flung
her stern high out of the water and slid rapidly to her ocean grave.
Almost the last to be seen of her was the mercantile flag of Japan,
still floating proudly from the ensign staff.
In the liner's crowded boats the Japanese officers were standing erect
and at the salute as the vessel disappeared from view. They, too, were
of a breed that is not to be intimidated by Teutonic frightfulness.