The Pursuit of the _Pelikan_
"One thing that puzzles me," remarked Stirling during the following
forenoon, "is why they didn't clap us below under hatches, instead of
trying to stupefy us. It would have been far less trouble."
"I must say that I share your thoughts," said Denbigh. "These Germans
are no fools. They are pretty thorough in whatever they take up,
whether it's a diabolical scheme or otherwise. It might be that
there's something below that they don't want us to see, and rather than
run a risk in that direction, they prefer to lock us up in the cabin."
"That's all very well," rejoined O'Hara. "But it won't wash. Old von
Langer let it out in the course of conversation that this ship has
already been examined by one of our cruisers."
"Then perhaps the boarding-officer wasn't cute enough. It's a tribute
to our sagacity, old man," said Stirling. "However, time and events
will prove. By Jove, the fateful hour approaches! What will von
Riesser say to our decision?"
At eight bells the three British officers were told to proceed to the
kapitan's cabin. This time von Riesser was alone. He looked flustered
and worried.
"Sit down, gentlemen," he began. "You must look upon this as a private
and confidential chat. Now, to go straight to the point: are you
prepared, in the event of your being given honourable treatment and
allowed the greatest liberty possible, to maintain silence upon last
night's affair?"
Denbigh, as spokesman, did not think it advisable to give a direct
reply.
"Do you, on your part, promise to refrain from treacherous attacks upon
Allied merchantmen?" he asked.
"I think I can give that guarantee," replied von Riesser. "If I do so,
will you write a certificate to the effect that, to the best of your
belief, I, as commander of the ship, am acting in accordance with the
present accepted rules of naval warfare? That, I think, will square
matters."
"We cannot do that," declared Denbigh. "We are willing to give a
certificate to the effect that you acted with discretion."
The kapitan smiled grimly.
"There is a certain amount of latitude in that," he replied. "I
suppose you will then say nothing of last night's business."
"Since we have no direct evidence of what you have done, we cannot very
well state a case," said Denbigh. "The thing is this: are you going to
torpedo any merchantmen without warning?"
"No," replied von Riesser.
"Very well. We have forgotten last night," declared Denbigh. "Should
occasion arise we will give you the required certificate."
"And should occasion not arise," thought von Riesser, "I will make it
pretty hot for these young cubs. Once safely in port in our African
colony, I will show them what it means to thwart a Prussian officer."
With these sentiments in his mind and a smile on his face the kapitan
dismissed his prisoners.
During the afternoon there was a thick haze. It was impossible to
distinguish anything beyond a distance of about a mile from the ship.
Sea and sky were merged into an ill-defined blurr. The glass, too, was
falling rapidly. That and the presence of the mist betokened an
imminent change in the weather.
Suddenly there was a rift in the curtain of vapour. At less than two
miles away on the _Pelikan's_ port bow were two vessels, one being in
tow of the other.
The subs were quick to recognize the leading craft. She was a British
cruiser of the "Eclipse" class--a vessel of 5600 tons, and with a
nominal speed of 19 knots. But the craft in tow was a puzzle to them.
She was low-lying, with a raised superstructure amidships, one funnel,
and a tall mast fitted with a fire-control platform. From her for'ard
turret two huge guns, seemingly out of all proportion to the rest of
the ship, protruded. The muzzles, instead of being inclined upwards,
were depressed. Although Denbigh and his companions could not
distinguish details owing to the distance of the vessel, the German
officers, by means of their telescopes and binoculars, could see that
the muzzles of the guns were resting on large chocks bolted to the
deck, while the protruding part of the weapons were additionally
secured by stout hawsers. The mysterious craft was apparently
deserted. Everything was battened down, for the decks were swept by
the long Atlantic waves.
"By Jove!" ejaculated O'Hara. "She must be one of our monitors. Now,
where is she off to, I should like to know? There's something in the
wind."
[Illustration: "BY JOVE!" EJACULATED O'HARA, "SHE MUST BE ONE OF OUR
MONITORS."]
Kapitan von Riesser could have answered the question. He stood on the
bridge, glasses glued to his face and rage in his heart. There could
be but one solution. The monitor was bound for the Indian Ocean, to
take part in the forthcoming operations against the Germans in East
Africa.
"Donnerwetter!" muttered von Riesser. "These accursed English. They
may throw away their opportunities on land, but they know how to do
things at sea."
"Shall I carry on, sir?" asked the officer of the watch.
"No, port helm," ordered the kapitan. Then realizing that the carrying
out of this command might arouse the suspicions of the British cruiser,
he had the _Pelikan_ steadied on her helm. The course would bring her
within a mile of the cruiser and her tow.
"The cheek!" exclaimed Stirling. "Old von Riesser's going to play a
game of bluff."
"I vote we semaphore," suggested O'Hara impulsively. "We'd do the
trick before they could stop us."
The Irishman, however, had no opportunity of putting his plan into
effect, for at that moment a petty-officer informed the subs that it
was the kapitan's pleasure they should go below.
They found the port-hole closed and locked. Von Riesser was not a man
to take needless risks.
A hoist of bunting fluttered from the cruiser's signal yard-arm. It
was a message in the International Code: "E C--what ship is that?"
Promptly the Dutch ensign was hoisted, while simultaneously the
"number" of the real _Zwaan_ was made.
From the cruiser came another signal. Von Riesser had no occasion to
consult the code-book. It was "I D--Heave-to, or I fire."
"Hard a-port!" he shouted, and telegraphed for full speed ahead.
Round swung the _Pelikan_, listing until five feet of her underbody
showed clear. Even as she did so a couple of 12-pounders spat
venomously, the shells passing perilously close to the towering hull.
Down fluttered the Dutch ensign. The British cruiser ceased firing.
Ahead lay a bank of fog.
Von Riesser knew that he was in a tight corner, and it was in tight
corners that the better qualities of the man showed themselves. For a
few moments he stood motionless. Every second the _Pelikan_ was
slipping farther and farther away from the cruiser, which, hampered by
her tow, was unable to stand in pursuit. Her skipper was somewhat
mystified. According to the rules of the game the _Pelikan_ had
struck, yet he knew that of necessity the immense bulk must carry
considerable way.
The British cruiser had no doubts of the blue liner with the broad
black band, for the survivors of the _Nichi Maru_ had been picked up by
one of the patrolling vessels. Once more that mixed blessing, wireless
telegraphy, had been brought into service, and a description of the
raider sent far and wide. Already a number of light cruisers were on
their way from Simon's Bay to intercept the _Pelikan_, while the
blockading squadron off the east coast of Africa had been warned of the
likely attempt on the part of the fugitive to gain one of the
little-known and unfrequented rivers of the last of Germany's overseas
possessions.
Von Riesser alternately kept glancing ahead and astern. The haze was
beginning to envelop the monitor and her escort.
He shouted an order to a petty officer. The man doubled aft, bawling
as he ran. Then from the ensign staff fluttered the Black Cross of the
Imperial German Navy.
The cruiser's reply was a salvo from her quick-firers. Two shells
struck home, one bursting on the poop and blowing the emblem of Germany
to atoms, besides causing considerable damage to the deck. A second
burst amidships, shattering a couple of ventilators, splintering one of
the boats, and destroying the greater portion of the bridge. Fragments
of metal and splinters of wood flew in all directions. Kapitan von
Riesser narrowly escaped being hit. As it was, one of his officers and
two seamen were killed outright, five others being seriously wounded,
while the kapitan was thrown to the deck by the concussion.
For a few minutes the _Pelikan_ was enveloped in smoke and spray thrown
up by the shells that exploded on either side; but before the cruiser
could get in another effective shot the raider was lost in the mist.
Von Riesser guessed, and rightly, that the cat was out of the bag,
otherwise the cruiser would not have hoisted that peremptory demand to
heave-to. He realized that his position was a hazardous one.
Thousands of miles from a friendly port, sought by perhaps a score of
British cruisers, and, moreover, running short of coal, the _Pelikan_
stood a very small chance of dropping anchor in East African waters,
except as a prize.
On the other hand, Fate, in the guise of the mist, had dealt kindly
with the _Pelikan_. For the rest of the day she steamed westward.
Down below the firemen toiled like Trojans, shovelling coal into the
glowing furnaces. On deck the crew worked hard, clearing away the
debris left by the British cruiser's shells. The wireless staff were
busy "jamming" the numerous messages thrown out from various vessels,
that were converging on the monitor and her escort for the purpose of
cutting off the audacious _Pelikan_.
About an hour before sunset the mist cleared. The sea was still calm,
although high overhead the ragged and greasy clouds betokened the
approach of a southerly gale. The setting sun, a ball of bright
yellow, set in a pale greenish-yellow sky, threw its slanting rays
across the damaged bridge, almost blinding the look-out with its
brilliance.
"Sail on the starboard bow," reported one of the watchers.
Von Riesser, who had practically recovered from the shock of being
capsized by the explosion, had not left the bridge. He immediately
gave orders to starboard the helm. At the present juncture he would
not risk meeting even an unarmed tramp laden with military stores.
The stranger was the British light cruiser _Actaeon_, of 3000 tons, and
with a speed of slightly over 20 knots. Pelting towards the scene of
the encounter between the _Pelikan_ and her foiled antagonist, the
_Actaeon_ was unwittingly approaching the fugitive. She, having the
advantage of the light, recognized the German liner almost before the
latter had noticed her presence.
As the _Pelikan_ swung round, the _Actaeon_ followed suit, both vessels
being now on slightly converging courses and about six miles apart. It
was a question as to which of the two was the speediest ship--a
question, seemingly, that events only could prove.
The sun set. The short period of tropical twilight gave place to
pitch-black night, for the moon, now two days after the full, had not
yet risen.
On board the _Pelikan_ all lights that might be visible from outside
were extinguished, save for one white light shown aft. The pursuing
vessel displayed no lights, but her approximate position could be fixed
by means of the dull-red glow of the flames that issued from her three
funnels.
"Do you think she's gaining, von Langer?" asked the kapitan anxiously,
after an interval of almost unbroken silence as far as the officers on
the _Pelikan's_ bridge were concerned.
"I am not sure," replied the ober-leutnant. "We do not appear to be
gaining on her. It may be that we are just holding our own."
"Unless we can shake her off completely before sunrise we stand little
chance," said von Riesser moodily. "We cannot stand up to her. Those
guns would send us to the bottom in a quarter of an hour, long before
we came within torpedo range."
"If we had but a dozen mines, sir----" began Unter-leutnant Klick.
"It is no use wishing for what we haven't got," snapped the kapitan.
"And what is more, yon English ship is taking good care not to follow
directly in our wake in case we were dropping mines."
There was silence for some moments. Von Riesser was deep in thought,
his eyes fixed the while upon the lurid red tint on the horizon.
"Ach!" he exclaimed. "I think I have it. Here, Herr Klick, see that
the motor launch is cleared ready for lowering."