Disappointment
"Any oars on board?" asked O'Hara, after the frail craft had drifted a
few hundred yards down the river.
"Not a suspicion of one," replied Armstrong. "And the bore will be due
in about an hour."
"Hands, lads!" exclaimed Denbigh cheerily. "Let us imagine we're
taking part in a Fleet regatta."
Leaning over the sides the men paddled with their hands, steering a
course obliquely with the left bank of the river.
Once the punt tilted alarmingly as a dark heavy body rasped underneath.
The denizens of the river were in evidence. The officers prudently
suspended operations until the unwelcome intruder had disappeared.
"Hulloa, what's that?" whispered the Irishman. "Hippos right across
the river."
The punt was bearing down upon a line of dark objects that were
apparently forging ahead against the swift current.
"Back starboard!" ordered Denbigh promptly.
The punt, checked by the resistance of O'Hara's palms in the water,
swung sideways. As it did so Denbigh gathered up the slack of the
severed lead-line that still remained on board.
Retaining the ends he threw the bight across one of the black objects,
at the same time lying at full length on the bottom of the boat. With
a jerk that wellnigh capsized the crank craft the punt's way was
checked.
"Your hippos are barrels, old man!" he exclaimed.
"Mines, perhaps," suggested Armstrong. "Be careful, for goodness sake."
"Not mines," declared Denbigh. "They wouldn't be floating on the
surface. But it's some infernal contrivance. Haul closer and we'll
investigate."
Warding off the gunwale from the plunging barrel Denbigh dipped his arm
into the water. His hand came in contact with a heavy chain eighteen
inches beneath the surface.
"A boom!" he announced. "By Jove! If we had a slab of gun-cotton
handy."
"Hist!" exclaimed O'Hara warningly. "I can hear voices."
"It's time for us to go," whispered Armstrong.
Denbigh cast off. The barrel appeared to leap away from them, as the
punt was swept down-stream.
"Not much use attempting to land at this point," said Armstrong.
"I don't know so much about that," rejoined Denbigh. "Personally I'm
rather anxious to see what these fellows are doing ashore. Keep her
going, Pat. We'll strike the bank in less than half a mile."
Paddling in silence the men pursued their tedious course athwart the
current until a dull roar was borne to their ears.
"The bore!" exclaimed Armstrong.
"It will be quite ten minutes before it reaches us," replied Denbigh.
"Stick to it, lads!"
The amphibians, with the keen instinct that nature bestowed upon them,
also were aware of the approach of the foaming mass of water, for the
centre of the river was literally alive with hippopotami and saurians
that had not gone ashore for a nocturnal ramble. The crocodiles on the
mud-flats were either making for deep water or else crawling higher up
the banks out of the rush of the irresistible bore.
"Aground!" exclaimed Denbigh as the punt's bows touched the mud.
"Check her from swinging round."
Armstrong promptly jumped overboard, to sink above his knees in the
soft mud. Only by holding on to the gunwale was he able to keep
himself from sinking still deeper.
"We can't land here," he announced. "We'll be in up to our necks."
"Must," declared Denbigh laconically, raising his voice to enable it to
be heard above the now loud roar of the approaching bore.
Seizing the lead-line and bending one end round his waist Denbigh leapt
overboard, threw himself at full length upon the mud, and working with
his hands drew himself laboriously over the slimy surface. It was
horribly exhausting work, but to his intense satisfaction he found
himself making visible progress without sinking beyond a few inches in
the ooze.
Ahead he could discern the dark outlines of the mangrove forest. It
seemed an interminable distance away.
Presently his hand came in contact with the trunk of a tree, that had
fallen and had been partly embedded in the mud. It afforded a
precarious foothold, but proceeding carefully, Denbigh found that the
farther end rested in comparatively firm soil.
Planting his feet against the trunk, the sub hauled at the lead-line
with all his might. The flat-bottomed punt glided easily over the
slime until its bows were within a yard of the fallen tree. Then,
unexpectedly, the rope that had rendered such good service parted like
pack-thread.
Denbigh, losing his balance, fell prostrate on the ground, which was
here soft enough to break his fall but sufficiently stiff to prevent
him from being swallowed up in the mud.
Quickly O'Hara and Armstrong jumped, and grasping their fallen comrade
hauled him to his feet. They had barely time to gain the firm bank
when the bore thundered past, sweeping the punt away like a straw.
They had a momentary glimpse of its bows rearing high in the air on the
crest of the foaming, breaking wall of water, then it vanished out of
sight.
"Phew!" exclaimed Armstrong. "That was a narrow squeak."
"I'm in a horrible mess," announced Denbigh. "The mud of Portsmouth
Harbour is eau de Cologne compared with this filthy slime."
"Good heavens, man! you're shivering," declared O'Hara. "That won't
do. Here, take my coat. I don't want it. I insist."
Waving aside Denbigh's objections the Irishman made him take off his
saturated garments, while the rest of the deficiency of the sub's
wardrobe was temporarily made good by making use of Armstrong's silk
scarf as a loin-cloth. The men realized that in the deadly African
climate dry clothing was of utmost importance. The sub's saturated and
mud-encaked garments were made up into a bundle to be washed and dried
at the first opportunity.
"Now," said Denbigh, "I feel like a giant refreshed. We've plenty of
time, for it's no use getting to the coast before sunrise. If you
fellows like to wait here I'll go up along the banks and see what is at
the shore end of that chain."
"It isn't going to be a one-man show," objected O'Hara. "We'll all
have a chip in. You lead, if you will, old man. I'll follow just far
enough behind to keep you in view. Armstrong, will you bring up the
rear?"
In single file and extended order the three officers made their way
towards their objective. Keeping just below high-water mark they found
the ground easy to walk upon, and, with one exception, free from the
presence of crocodiles.
One huge brute barred their path, but on Denbigh hurling a heavy stick
in its direction, the saurian turned and waddled towards the water.
Noiselessly, for the soft ground effectually deadened the sound of
their footsteps, the daring explorers advanced.
Suddenly a hoarse voice broke the silence with a guttural "Wer da?"
Without a moment's hesitation Denbigh dropped gently to the ground.
His companions followed his example, holding their breath in momentary
expectation of hearing a bullet whizzing over their heads.
"It's all right, Schlutze," replied a voice. "The leutnant sent me to
bring some more hands down. There's a boat broken adrift. She's
grinding against the end of the torpedo-station pier."
"What boat?" asked the sentry, recovering his rifle.
"I do not know. It's empty."
"Not an English boat?" asked the man anxiously.
"When the English do venture they will attempt the attack with
something bigger, my friend. The bigger the better, for they will
never be able to pass here, with our excellent torpedo-tubes trained
across the river. But I must be moving. Herr leutnant is in a great
hurry. He does not want his piers damaged."
Denbigh remained lying on the ground. He waited until half a dozen
Germans passed within twenty yards of him. He could hear their heavy
boots clattering on the planks of the foliage-screened pier, although
the structure was invisible from where he lay.
Finding that it would be too risky a business to attempt to pass the
sentry, Denbigh crawled back to O'Hara, and by signs indicated that he
was going into the forest. The three comrades, keeping close together,
turned their backs upon the river and were soon swallowed up in the
dense foliage.
Maintaining his direction by means of his spirit-compass, Denbigh held
on until he came upon a clearing. Here the ground was furrowed with
deep ruts. They had evidently been caused by the recent passage of
heavy objects drawn upon rough sleighs. The dew-steeped ground bore
the impress of many booted feet as well as, to a lesser extent, those
of natives.
"They've been lugging up the quick-firers," mentally commented Denbigh.
"I wonder where they've hidden them? Wish to goodness they hadn't
employed niggers. I don't mind getting on the track of a Hun, but the
blacks have an awkward trick of turning the tables upon a fellow when
it comes to following a spoor."
He waited, revolving in his mind the problem that confronted him. His
companions stood motionless and silent. They, too, realized that
danger lurked in the dense bush.
Again Denbigh consulted his compass. The track on his left hand lay in
a north-westerly direction. Assuming that it ran fairly straight, it
would open out at the river banks in the vicinity of the temporary
piers. In the other direction it showed a tendency to curve to the
north-east.
"I'll try the right-hand track," decided the sub. "I suppose it will
be out of the question to get those two obstinate fellows to remain
here."
He put the proposal in dumb show, but both O'Hara and Armstrong
vigorously protested against being left behind.
The three officers again took shelter in the bush, keeping close and
parallel to the beaten track. Twenty minutes' steady progress brought
them to the edge of a large clearing. By the compass their direction
was now due west, showing that they had described a large semicircle.
They were now not far from the river. They could hear the swirl of the
flood-tide. Towards the centre of the clearing were several indistinct
objects that looked like gun-emplacements. Through the darkness came
the sound of men's voices. A dog yelped, and was instantly told to be
silent.
"This is no place for us," thought Denbigh. "Much as I should like to
see what is over there, I think we'll shift. I'll try and see how this
clearing bears for the river."
Fifty yards farther on progress was barred by a line of young trees.
Groping, the sub attempted to find a gap, but to his surprise the stem
he grasped gave way. It was merely the top of a palm tree lopped off
and forced into the ground. The whole row was merely a screen to mask
the guns from the river.
As the sub scrambled through the gap his foot tripped against a
concealed wire, and a spurt of red flame stabbed the darkness
accompanied by the sharp crack of a rifle.
Resisting the impulse to take to their heels the three officers backed
cautiously into the forest. Already numbers of men were hurrying to
the spot. Lights flashed upon the scene, revealing the presence of two
searchlight projectors set up on platforms almost above the heads of
the British fugitives.
In the confusion, for the German officers and men were shouting and
aimlessly running hither and thither, Denbigh and his companions
withdrew, until they found themselves at the place where a couple of
hours previously they had landed from the punt.
"Full speed ahead!" exclaimed Denbigh. "It will be dawn by the time we
reach the shore of the lagoon. I think we've seen enough to enable us
to locate the enemy's shore defences."
"Through the forest, or by the river?" asked O'Hara.
"Both," replied his chum. "Two miles farther down-stream is the spot
where we landed from the _Myra_. I can recognize it. You remember
what we buried there?"
"Rather," replied the Irishman. "The rifle and the ammunition we took
from von Eckenstein's man."
"It will come in jolly handy if we fall foul of more wild animals,"
continued Denbigh. "When we've recovered the rifle we'll follow the
same track as we did previously. Let's hope we'll be in time to warn
our cruisers, for from all appearances von Riesser hasn't played
himself out just yet."
"You're taking into consideration the possibility that the Germans have
left an observation post at the entrance to the river?" asked Armstrong.
"Rather," replied Denbigh. "Even if they hadn't posted a guard they'll
have made arrangements with the natives to give them the tip. Best leg
forward, lads. If we fail to see the White Ensign before another six
hours have passed I shall be horribly disappointed."
In spite of Denbigh's assurances the men had great difficulty in
locating the spot where the rifle and ammunition had been hidden. The
lack of moonlight altered the appearance of the river completely.
Landmarks and bearings were useless in the darkness; but at length the
weapon was recovered little the worse for its experience. Having
cleaned the dirt from the muzzle, the breech-mechanism having been
protected when it was buried, O'Hara took possession of the rifle and
the journey was resumed.
The short African dawn was breaking as the three officers reached the
low cliffs overlooking the lagoon.
A grunt of disappointment burst from Denbigh's lips. The morning mists
had dispersed. The whole of the reef was plainly visible. The horizon
was unbroken by any object that could be recognized as a British
warship.
Unaccountably the blockading squadron had disappeared.