A Bid for Freedom
When Denbigh opened his eyes he found himself in the now familiar cabin
on board the _Pelikan_. There were several people in the limited
space. He did not feel any interest in them. They irritated him. He
wanted to sleep.
Gradually it dawned upon him that he had a narrow escape. Then he
remembered that O'Hara was with him when he was swept off the side of
the _Myra_.
"You there, Pat?" he asked, half afraid to put the question in case his
chum was gone.
"Sure," replied a deep voice from the opposite bunk.
Denbigh attempted to sit up. He felt horribly sick. His head was
whirling. It reminded him very forcibly and unpleasantly of his spiral
flight around the vortex of the whirlpool.
"Lie still, Mr. Denbigh," said Captain Pennington. "You'll be fit all
in good time."
"All right," agreed the sub. He was not in a fit state to do
otherwise. "Where is the _Pelikan_ now?"
The skipper of the _Myra_ lowered his voice.
"Properly trapped. She cannot go another fifty yards up the river.
We've spoilt her little game."
"Good business," murmured Denbigh, and turning on his side he fell
asleep.
His escape was little short of miraculous. It was owing to the fact
that he wore his solar topee fastened by a strong "chin-stay". The
air-space between the double thickness of the sun-helmet possessed
sufficient buoyancy to bring him to the surface, after being twice
taken down by the whirlpool.
A few minutes previous to the disaster, the bore had exhausted itself
at a point ten miles up the river, and the "rebound" had made itself
felt just at the time when Denbigh made his second involuntary dive.
The sudden slackening of the full force of the flood-tide had caused
the whirlpool to cease, with the result that the sub floated
unconscious on the surface of the river, when he was picked up by the
_Pelikan's_ whaler. O'Hara, Captain Pennington, and Armstrong had been
more fortunate, for they had been swept clear of the influence of the
eddy.
The result of Armstrong's plot had rather exceeded his expectations.
The _Myra_ lay athwart the channel, with less than twelve feet of water
over her at high tide. Until the Mohoro River cut itself a new bed
round the submerged wreck--which might take twenty-four hours or as
many days--the _Pelikan_ would be unable to proceed. Even if the
obstruction did not exist, the raider was unable to proceed owing to
the loss of her propeller blades.
The whole of the stores removed from the _Pelikan_ to the _Myra_, as
well as those originally in the tramp's holds, were hopelessly lost,
including the bulk of the ammunition and arms intended for the German
colonial troops. There were several hundred reservists still on board,
with no facilities for their transfer up-country. Even had there been
boats available for them all, the voyage up the Mohoro was fraught with
danger.
On the other hand, to remain in the _Pelikan_ was to court disease and
famine, even should the raider escape detection by the British cruisers.
Kapitan von Riesser's position was far from enviable. He soundly rated
Unter-leutnant Klick, who in turn tried to shift the blame upon the
British sailors for their dilatoriness in letting go the anchors. Von
Riesser had seen with his own eyes that the anchors had been let go
promptly. He could not, therefore, accuse the _Myra's_ original crew
of conspiracy, since he had no evidence. The prospect of capture, too,
made him treat the prisoners with far more consideration than he would
have done had his position been a secure one.
The kapitan of the _Pelikan_ was not, however, going to "knuckle under"
without another effort. For the next three days all hands were kept
hard at work, in spite of the blazing sunshine by day and the miasmic
mists by night.
The guns previously landed on the shores of the lagoon and afterwards
taken on board again were once more sent ashore, and placed in position
so as to command a wide stretch of river. The _Pelikan_, being now
moored fore and aft, had the remaining quick-firers mounted at the
stern, so as to cooperate with the shore batteries in sweeping the
approach by water.
Two miles down-stream a steel-studded cable was thrown across from bank
to bank, and supported by barrels lashed in pairs at frequent
intervals. The obstruction ought to prevent the dash by armed
steamboats, even if unable to withstand the headlong charge of a
destroyer.
The most formidable objects of defence were the two torpedo-tubes,
which were removed from the ship and placed in position on shore four
hundred yards below the chain boom. To enable the torpedoes to be
fired, light piers were thrown out from the banks into twelve feet of
water, the structure being hidden by boughs of trees and clumps of
reeds. On the high ground at the back of the torpedo station
searchlights were mounted. These were not to be used as a
precautionary measure, but only to be switched on when an attack was
visibly imminent. Von Riesser's principal aim was to remain hidden.
If his retreat were discovered then he would put up a fight, and
failing to win would surrender with a good conscience.
Long before the three days had elapsed Denbigh had quite recovered from
the effects of his prolonged immersion. He had, with the rest of the
captured British officers, little opportunity of finding out the actual
steps that were being taken for defence. They knew that work was in
progress, but during the removal of the torpedo-tubes and guns they had
been sent below.
One discovery Denbigh made, and that was through overhearing a chance
conversation between two German petty officers. It also accounted for
the seemingly purposeless reluctance to confine the prisoners in the
hold instead of attempting to chloroform them in their cabin.
The _Pelikan_ was double-skinned, but the space between the double
bottoms was far greater than is usual in marine construction. It had
practically two hulls, one within the other, and in the intervening
space were stowed quantities of warlike stores.
When the _Pelikan_ had been boarded by a British patrol officer the
deception escaped detection. Apparently the _Zwaan_ was a harmless
Dutch liner. The sub-lieutenant who acted as boarding-officer was not
sufficiently versed in the ways of the wily Teuton. An examination of
the hold revealed nothing suspicious, and the vessel was accordingly
released.
Unfortunately for the Germans their plans had gone awry, for on
grounding on the outer bar the ship had strained several of her plates,
with the result that the space between the inner and the outer skin was
flooded. Not only were the stores spoilt, but, in order to lighten her
draught in addition to compensating for lost buoyancy, cargo more than
equivalent to that flooded had to be jettisoned.
Having landed the quick-firers and torpedo-tubes, the crew of the
_Pelikan_ proceeded to increase the disguise of the ship. She was now
a regular floating palm forest. So thick was the foliage brought on
board and secured to the masts and upper works that sun-awnings were
unnecessary. Even an observer in a seaplane, unless he were prepared
for such a disguise, would fail to distinguish the raider in her garb
of verdure.
"How do you feel for another jaunt ashore?" asked Denbigh.
"I can't say I am particularly keen on another swim," replied O'Hara.
"Otherwise I've no objection to studying the fauna and flora of this
delectable land. But what's the object?"
"It's about time we bade farewell to the _Pelikan_" replied Denbigh.
"It's four days since that little affair with the destroyers, and our
cruisers have apparently made no attempt to get even with von Riesser
and his motley crowd. I'm rather curious to know what's doing?"
"I can't see how going ashore will help," objected the Irishman.
"It will if we get to the mouth of the river. If the cruisers are in
the lagoon, well and good."
"And if not?"
"Then we'll have to exist as best we can till they do arrive."
"H'm," muttered O'Hara. "And the other fellows--Pennington and
Armstrong?"
"We'll ask them to join our merry throng," answered Denbigh. "The more
the better, once we get clear of the ship."
That same afternoon the subs broached the matter to the master and mate
of the lost _Myra_.
"I must cry off, thanks all the same," was Captain Pennington's reply.
"Happen what may my place is with my men. I have no objection to
Armstrong going with you, but I hope you have carefully weighed the
matter. If you miss being picked up by the boats of the squadron your
plight will be an unenviable one. The climate, the wild nature of the
coast, and the natives, who are certainly under German influence, are
all against you. Personally I think you stand a better chance by
remaining here and letting events take their course. The _Pelikan_ is
trapped. Capture or destruction is but a matter of time."
"True," admitted Denbigh. "But these fellows evidently mean to put up
a stiff fight. They've been doing something down the river--probably
throwing up masked batteries. If we could manage to find out what they
are up to and can communicate the intelligence to our ships it would
help matters."
"That's another consideration," said Captain Pennington. "In fact,
your duty lies that way."
"Are you trying your luck with us, Armstrong?" asked O'Hara.
"I'd be only too pleased to have a cut at it," replied the mate.
"Especially as Captain Pennington has no objections. How do you
propose to get clear of the ship? You can't swim ashore, because
there's nothing but slimy mud on the bank for some distance."
"There's a punt made fast alongside the port quarter," said Denbigh.
"They don't hoist it on board at night, because it's there when we turn
in and in the same place when we come on deck in the morning. They
only use it during the day."
"And there's a sentry right aft," objected Armstrong. "He'd spot us as
sure as daylight."
"Look here," declared the sub. "If I succeed in getting her alongside
amidships will you be ready to swarm down and into her?"
Armstrong nodded in assent. O'Hara also expressed his willingness to
attempt the enterprise.
The Irishman still had his pistol. He had taken an early opportunity
of cleaning it after his immersion. The screw-driver had been lost in
the _Myra_, but by this time the lock furniture was easy to remove, a
coin doing duty for the hitherto indispensable tool. The three men
also contrived to reserve a small quantity of food and a glass bottle
filled with soda-water.
Captain Pennington and Armstrong had been berthed in the same cabin as
the two subs. That facilitated matters, since the master of the _Myra_
could cover his companions' tracks.
"They'll make it pretty hot for me when they find you've cleared out,"
he remarked. "I can stick that. I don't think they'll go to extreme
measures with me. If they do they'll be sorry for it later on."
At the usual hour the officer-prisoners were ordered below. By ten
o'clock all was still. The crew of the raider were no longer working
by night. The bulk of the preparations completed they were given ample
opportunities for rest, since it was necessary to conserve their
energies for defence against the impending attack.
On deck a strict watch was maintained, but the attention of the
sentries was mainly directed downstream, whence the sudden switching on
of the searchlights was to be the signal of the approach of the British
flotillas.
It was not until two bells (1 a.m.) that the three officers stole from
their cabin. On deck all was in darkness. There was no moon. Every
light was extinguished. A mist obscured the glimmer of the stars. It
was one of those nights when it was really impossible to see one's hand
in front of one's face.
Without interruption the three officers gained the shelter of one of
the boats slung inboard with davits. Here, eight feet above the deck,
they were in comparative safety. Groping in the stern-sheets Denbigh
found what he expected--a hand lead-line.
Keeping the weighted end in the boat he dropped the coils overboard.
Caught by the swirling current the line trailed out astern. His next
task was to lower the boat's painter, which was to form a means of
getting down into the punt.
Stealthily the sub lowered himself hand over hand until his feet
touched the water.
"Good heavens, what a current!" he thought. "Well, if the lead-line
parts it will be an end to this little business. Here goes!"
He slipped softly into the river, striking out against the current, and
at the same time allowing the rush of water to sweep him down across
the bows of the punt, which was about a hundred feet from the place
where he had descended.
Suddenly something flicked across his head. It was the trailing
lead-line. Grasping it he allowed himself to be carried past the side
of the ship until he came within reach of the punt, which was made fast
to the lizard of one of the swinging booms.
Still retaining the line Denbigh clambered over the stern. The punt
was yawing in the tideway. He could see that it would be impossible to
haul it against the stream unless he kept well off.
He groped for'ard. In the bluff stem he found a metal ring-bolt.
Through this he passed the lead-line, making fast to another ring-bolt
in the transom.
So far so good. His next step was to cut adrift the unwieldy little
craft. Released from the hold of the two ropes the punt swung away
from the ship's side, but showed little tendency to yaw.
Slowly Denbigh began to haul in the lead-line. Foot by foot the punt
crept up-stream. Trimmed well by the stern she towed lightly, but the
securing line was none too strong. His journey to the place where he
had entered the water seemed interminable, but at length Denbigh felt
the trailing painter of the boat in the davits.
He made fast. As he did so the punt swung in towards the ship's side,
her gunwale making a resounding sound as it came in contact with the
steel plating.
He could hear men's footsteps approaching. Through the darkness he
heard a German sailor enquiring of his companion what the noise was.
The fellow expressed his opinion that it was merely a hippopotamus, and
the explanation being evidently satisfactory the men went aft once more.
Grasping the painter Denbigh jerked it three times. It was the
prearranged signal for his comrades to rejoin him. Silently Armstrong
slid down the rope, followed by O'Hara.
By this time they were growing accustomed to the darkness. Denbigh
could see the white uniforms of his companions. He wondered whether
they would be spotted once the punt drifted away from the ship's side.
Just above his head was a cluster of palm branches, suspended in a line
from the rail.
"I'll take the liberty of removing some of their floral decorations,"
mused Denbigh. Then signing to his companions to lie down he covered
them with the broad leaves, cut the log-line, and allowed the punt to
drift at the mercy of the strong ebb-tide.