The Disaster to the _Myra_
Arriving at the entrance to the Mohoro River the _Myra_ made no attempt
to recross the inner bar. Nor did she anchor, contenting herself with
merely steaming ahead against the flood-tide at a slow speed that kept
her stationary with the shore.
Just before high water the _Pelikan_ hove in sight from behind a
projecting tongue of land. She still retained her garb of palm trees.
The subs noticed that she had a decided list to starboard. This,
however, was not due to a leak but to the fact that her cargo had been
trimmed so as to throw her on her bilge and thus lighten her draught.
Slowly she approached the bar, and promptly took ground. Gripped by
the strong tide the stern portion swung round, throwing her almost
broadside athwart the river.
Great was the confusion on board. Half a dozen officers were shouting
simultaneously; men were rushing hither and thither, with no apparent
object, while with her engines reversed, her propellers were throwing
huge columns of mud and water.
Before the officers realized the danger the starboard propeller had
shed its blades owing to their coming into contact with the bottom,
while the port propeller was stopped after two blades had been badly
buckled.
Cautiously the lighter-draughted _Myra_ was backed astern until a
couple of stout hawsers were passed to her from the stranded vessel.
Three times the tramp endeavoured without success to tow off the
_Pelikan_, but on each occasion the hawsers snapped. By this time it
was close on high water.
Meanwhile the raider's crew were working like men possessed, throwing
overboard heavy gear that Kapitan von Riesser would have given
thousands of marks to retain. Military stores of the utmost importance
had to be ruthlessly sacrificed, unless the _Pelikan_ was to remain a
target for the guns of the British cruisers which were even now
supposed to be on their way from Zanzibar.
On the fourth occasion a hawser was sent off to the _Myra_, while in
addition the pinnace was towed into midstream with a large anchor slung
underneath her keel.
The anchor having been dropped, the cable was led to the _Pelikan's_
steam capstan. Directly the chain took the strain the _Myra_ began to
tow, with the result that the luckless raider scraped heavily across
the bar into deep water.
Kapitan von Riesser was delighted, in spite of the loss of stores and
gear. The damaged propellers mattered little, since the _Pelikan_
would never again attempt to put to sea. The _Myra_ could tow her up
the Mohoro River until she was out of range of the British cruisers'
guns, and from that point the reinforcements for the German Field Force
could proceed to the Rhodesian border and attempt to check General
Smut's advance.
Amongst the troops was Major von Eckenstein, who had been discovered
lying unconscious at the foot of the cliffs. He was badly battered
about the face, and severely hurt internally. When he came to he was
quite unable to account for his injuries. It was quite evident that
from a combatant point of view the arrogant major was out of the
running.
As soon as the _Pelikan_ was in comparative safety the German troops
were re-embarked. The quick-firers which had been landed, and which
had served so good a purpose in repelling the British destroyers, were
brought round by steamboats and again hoisted on board the _Pelikan_.
This done the _Myra_ took her big consort in tow, and against the now
strong ebb-tide slowly crawled up the turgid river.
Before the tidal stream had turned the two vessels had passed the spot
where the tramp had anchored on the previous night. Without stopping
they proceeded up-stream, the _Pelikan_ keeping well under control by
means of her rudder and a supplementary steering device consisting of a
long spar towed astern to prevent the ship from yawing.
"By Jove! there's trouble ahead," observed Denbigh, pointing to a sharp
bend in the river about a mile ahead. Here the tidal portion of the
stream extended nearly 500 yards from bank to bank, while the actual
channel was a bare fifth of that distance. On the starboard hand ran a
long tongue of mud, round which the stream swept with great violence.
By this time a strong breeze had sprung up, blowing athwart the
channel. The absence of trees close to the bank increased the
difficulty, for there was no protection from the wind as it swept
against the lofty side of the slowly-moving _Pelikan_.
Already the raider's semaphore was signalling to the _Myra_ to cast off
and anchor until the tide slackened.
With a grim smile on his face Armstrong winked solemnly at the subs.
He said not a word, for several of the German seamen were standing by.
"Let go!" ordered Unter-leutnant Klick, directly he saw that the
_Pelikan_ had dropped her anchor.
Promptly the British seaman stationed at the compressor obeyed. The
bower anchor fell with a sullen splash. Fathom after fathom of chain
roared through the hawse-pipe.
Klick raised his hand as a signal for the cable to be checked. The
_Myra_ was still making sternway and showed no decided tendency to
bring up. Another fifty fathoms of chain were paid out. Still the
tramp dropped astern. She was now within half a cable's length of the
_Pelikan_, which to prevent herself being in collision was obliged to
veer out her cable.
"The anchor's not holding, sir!" shouted the German petty officer in
charge of the fo'c'sle party.
"Then let go a second anchor," yelled Klick excitedly. "Make them look
sharp, or we'll be foul of the _Pelikan_."
The unter-leutnant had no cause to complain of the lack of energy on
the part of the prisoners. With the utmost dispatch the second anchor
was let go. Before twenty fathoms, which alone ought to be sufficient
to bring the _Myra_ to a standstill, were paid out the whole of the
cable of the first anchor had been made use of.
Suddenly a sullen roar was heard coming from down-stream. The Mohoro
River at certain intervals, especially at extraordinary spring-tides,
is subject to a bore. The bore is very erratic. Sometimes it is very
much in evidence, at other times it is hardly perceptible; but there
was no doubt that now it was of unusual magnitude.
Nearer and nearer came the wall of solid water, maintaining an unbroken
wave towards the centre of the river. Close to the banks it broke
heavily.
"Go full speed ahead or we'll be into you!" shouted Kapitan von Riesser
frantically.
The _Myra's_ engine-room telegraph clanged. Either by accident or
design the British engineers were slow in replying. The tramp was only
just forging ahead when the bore swept under the _Pelikan's_ counter.
Round swept the raider, her stern just missing the _Myra's_ taffrail.
Fortunately her cables held, but not so the tramp.
With her engines going ahead and held tightly by the scope of her
anchor-chain--for the anchors themselves, thanks to their dummy
forelocks, were useless--the tramp headed uncontrollably towards the
port-hand bank. In the midst of the tumult of water as the bore broke
over her she struck and struck heavily.
In an instant the doomed vessel fell over on her beam-ends. With an
appalling crash her funnels and masts went by the board. So sudden was
the catastrophe that a dozen German seamen were trapped down below.
Only by the narrowest margin did the British engine-room staff make
their escape.
Of what occurred during the next few moments neither Denbigh nor O'Hara
had any clear recollection. They found themselves standing on the side
of the vessel. Captain Pennington, Armstrong, and Unter-leutnant Klick
were there, too. Up for'ard the British seamen and half a dozen of the
German prize crew were scrambling along the upturned sides, which were
by this time barely three feet above the surface of the raging stream.
It was evident that the survivors had found only a very temporary place
of refuge. The force of the current sweeping past the ship was wearing
out a deep hole in the bed of the river, into which the _Myra_ was
slowly subsiding. To attempt to escape by swimming was almost an
impossibility, as the water surged and eddied past, forming a dangerous
whirlpool close to the stern of the vessel.
"By Jove!" exclaimed Armstrong. "This is a proper wash-out. We've
done the trick properly this time."
"Yes, it's more than we bargained for," added the Irishman. "I would
never have believed that a craft of this size would be swallowed up so
quickly."
Meanwhile Denbigh could not help noticing the marked difference in the
demeanour of the British and German seamen, who by this time were up to
their knees in water, and were soon, unless help were forthcoming, to
be swept off their feet by the rush of the flood-tide.
The Huns were shouting dolorously for aid; the _Myra's_ men were either
stoically silent or else inclined to indulge in grim jests at the
expense of the bellowing Teutons.
Denbigh looked in the direction of the _Pelikan_. The crew were
engaged in lowering boats, and taking an extraordinarily long time
about it, owing to the pronounced list of the raider and also to the
fact that her decks were encumbered with her disguise of vegetation.
Unter-leutnant Klick was trembling violently. He, of all the officers
taking refuge on the side of the tramp, had managed to procure a
life-belt. Even the contemptuous glances of the _Myra's_ skipper
failed to shame him.
Presently the first of the _Pelikan's_ boats came tearing up-stream.
It required all the strength of the oarsmen to check her way. An
ironical cheer from the British seamen greeted her arrival.
"Women and children first!" they yelled derisively as the
unter-leutnant and the surviving German seamen made a frantic rush for
the boat.
Two of the Huns jumped short. Although good swimmers they were swirled
away like pieces of straw, until, drawn into the vortex of the
whirlpool, they disappeared.
The second boat, backing towards the deadly whirlpool, awaited the
men's reappearance, but in vain. Then, attempting to run alongside the
wreck, the frail craft bumped heavily upon a submerged part of the
vessel and stove in a couple of planks. While two of the crew began to
bale, the boat was swept several hundred yards up the river, for the
remaining rowers were helpless against the flood.
Meanwhile the first boat, having rescued the unter-leutnant and the
surviving German seamen, began to approach the wreck again; until
Klick, in an agony of terror lest she, too, would meet with disaster,
ordered the men to push off.
A third boat--a whaler--came upon the scene. Acting with great caution
her coxswain brought her alongside and motioned to Denbigh and his
companions to leap.
"Those men first," cried Captain Pennington, pointing to those of his
crew who were still maintaining a precarious hold.
The coxswain understood and allowed his boat to drift down upon the
handful of seamen. Coolly the British crew scrambled into safety, and
the whaler, urged under the powerful strokes of the oarsmen, began to
make her way aft.
Suddenly the almost submerged part on which Denbigh and his companions
were standing gave a sickening shudder and disappeared beneath the
surface. A swirl of water, surging with irresistible force, swept the
four officers off their feet.
The next instant Denbigh found himself struggling for dear life in the
foaming yellow water of Mohoro River. In spite of his peril, he could
not help contrasting his involuntary bath with that of the previous
night. Then the water was warm, tranquil, and evil-smelling. Unseen
dangers assailed him on every hand. Now the same river was nothing
less than a broiling cauldron.
With almost superhuman strength Denbigh struck out. Already he was
within the influence of the deadly whirlpool. Spinning round and round
he kept his face from the vortex, striving, but in vain, to overcome
the suction of the gigantic eddy.
He could see no signs of his companions. Either they had already
disappeared, or else they had been thrown beyond the range of the
inverted cone that marked the position of the whirlpool.
Even in danger of imminent death, the sub recalled an incident in the
Clarence Victualling Yard, several years ago. He had been taken by his
father to see the process of manufacturing ships' biscuits. In one
building he saw flour sliding down an inclined plane into a mixing
machine. Mingled with the flour were several large maggots, that gave
the name to the creek that forms the approach by water to the
Victualling Yard. Finding themselves disturbed, the insects tried to
wriggle back, but in vain. Down they slid till caught in the mixer,
finally to form part of the ingredients of ship's biscuits.
"And I'm almost in the same boat as those weevils," thought Denbigh
grimly, as he completed a circle for the twentieth time.
He was nearing the vortex. The spiral motion became quicker. An
irresistible force was dragging him down.
Suddenly Denbigh threw up his arms. He was physically played out.
Like an arrow he shot into the pit in the centre of that mass of
whirling water. The blaze of the African sun gave place to intense
darkness. He held his breath, until his lungs seemed to be on the
point of bursting.
As rapidly as he had gone down the sub was shot to the surface. Again
he was within the range of the whirlpool, for its centre, instead of
being stationary, was moving in an ellipse.
Unable even to struggle, Denbigh was again sucked down. This time,
incapable of holding his breath, he swallowed a quantity of water. The
pressure on his chest was excruciating. Then torture gave place to a
strange calmness. On an instant, recollections of practically the
whole of his past life flashed across his mind. The mental pictures
faded away and all became blank.