The Landing-Party
No one could accuse Captain Holloway of tardiness. He had the
reputation of being an alert and promising officer, and on this
occasion he excelled himself. Within an hour after sunrise the
landing-party from the flotilla was on its way to tackle the remnants
of the _Pelikan's_ crew; for almost as soon as the raider had been
swept out of existence the British senior officer was drawing up his
orders that the unexpected turn of events had necessitated.
Towed by the two steamboats of the _Simplicita_, four cutters from the
_Paradox_, _Eureka_, and the seaplane parent ship set off up the river.
Into the boats were packed one hundred and twenty officers and men
drawn from each vessel of the little squadron. Each boat carried a
quick-firer in the bows and a Maxim, in addition to stores sufficient
to last a week or ten days.
The expedition was under the orders of Lieutenant-commander Bourne,
while amongst the officers was Sub-lieutenant Frank Denbigh, with
Armstrong in charge of stores. Much to his disgust Pat O'Hara found
himself "turned down" by the Principal Medical Officer; the former's
assurances that his ankle would improve with a little exercise being
brushed aside by the latter, who knew perfectly well that days would
elapse before the Irishman could set foot upon the _Crustacean's_ deck,
let alone the crowded stern-sheets of an armed cutter.
Before the boats were out of sight of the still stranded _Crustacean_
two sea-planes ascended and flew swiftly inland. Without their aid the
landing-party would be literally groping for their foes, since it was
not known whether von Riesser and his men had taken to their boats or
had set out through the mangroves towards the grass-grown hinterland.
Denbigh having more knowledge of the Mohoro River than any of the other
officers--and his knowledge was limited to a stretch of less than ten
miles--was navigating officer in charge of the leading steamboat.
While the other officers were sweeping the mudflat fringed banks with
their glasses Denbigh directed his attention towards the turgid channel.
Presently a line of bobbing objects caught his vision. Ordering the
leading stoker to ease down the engines he signalled by means of
hand-flags to the steamboat astern to likewise reduce speed.
The objects that had attracted his attention were the barrels forming
the boom across the river almost abreast of the wrecked
torpedo-station. The _Pelikan_, he knew, had been moored above the
obstruction. She had drifted down past them before she took fire and
blew up. Unless the boom had been temporarily removed and afterwards
replaced he could not understand how the raider could have descended
with the ebb-tide without sweeping the line of barrels away.
"What's wrong?" enquired Bourne.
Briefly Denbigh explained.
"It would be as well if we sent a shell into one of those barrels," he
added.
"Waste of good ammunition," objected the lieutenant-commander. "The
steamboat can take it bows on at full speed ahead. She'll do it
easily."
"That I do not doubt," replied the sub. "But I have an idea that those
barricoes are filled with explosives, although we bumped into one of
them when we were in a light punt."
Just then the P.O. telegraphist for wireless duties, who was ensconced
in a small insulated cage on the rearmost cutter, received a message
from one of the sea-planes to the effect that the Germans had been
located. They had landed from the boats at a spot twenty miles above
the former anchorage of the _Pelikan_ and were making their way towards
the hills.
"They're funking it," declared Bourne. "Everything points to a hurried
flight. They may have swung the boom back in position, but I doubt the
accuracy of your mine theory."
"Very good, sir," replied Denbigh. "Then you wish the steamboat to
charge the obstruction?"
"Yes, carry on," said Bourne.
Denbigh was too accustomed to discipline to demur in the face of
definite orders. He prepared to cast off the tow, for the steamboat
was to essay the feat alone. The two cutters were to anchor until a
passage had been cleared through the obstruction.
"Well, I hope I'm wrong," thought the sub as he ordered the leading
stoker to "let her rip for all she's worth."
But before the boat could gather way there was a commotion in the water
ahead. A large hippo, frightened by the unusual noises that had
disturbed the usually peaceful river, made off up-stream.
Swerving neither to the right hand nor the left the huge animal bore
down upon the line of floating barrels. It passed between a pair of
them. For a moment it seemed that he had surmounted the massive chain,
until the sudden displacement of the barrels showed that its body had
fouled the hidden barrier.
The hippo reared in fury and terror, bringing its whole weight down
upon the chain. Instantly a line of waterspouts shot high in the air
accompanied by a simultaneous discharge of half a dozen mines. The
sudden strain had ignited tubes of fulminate of mercury, which in turn
had exploded heavy charges of gun-cotton. Had the boat been a hundred
yards nearer not one of her crew would have escaped.
In silence Denbigh brought the steamboat abreast of the first cutter
and re-established communication.
The lieutenant-commander stood up, and in a steady, clear voice
exclaimed:
"Well done, Mr. Denbigh! My judgment was hopelessly at fault."
"That's all right, sir," replied the sub. He knew the effort that
Bourne had had to make to tender his apologies. Having given his order
in the hearing of the men it was the only course open to him. And
Bourne was an officer who, although somewhat impetuous, was never
afraid to acknowledge an error.
With the flood-tide the flotilla made good progress. Rounding the
sharp bend where the _Myra_ had disappeared, the boats entered a gently
curving reach that apparently made a long horseshoe sweep. At this
point the mangroves ceased. The ground became higher, the banks being
precipitous in places, and covered with long rank grass.
"There are the _Pelikan's_ boats," reported Denbigh, pointing to two
large pinnaces lying against the banks to which they had been carried
by the tide.
In answer to an enquiry the scouting sea-plane reported that further
progress a mile round the next bend was barred by a series of rapids,
and that the Germans had established a gain of nearly ten miles, and
were approaching the bottle-neck formed by the extreme sinuosities of
the river.
"Can you check them?" asked Bourne anxiously. He was not at all keen
on a ten- or twenty-mile march through the rough grass. If the
sea-planes could command the narrow stretch of ground between the
horseshoe bend von Riesser's men might be headed off.
"We'll try," was the wirelessed reply.
Meanwhile the steamboat had cast off the tow, and the cutters still
carrying way were steered towards the bank. Here, owing to the rush of
the tide, there was fairly deep water close to the land, and
fortunately an absence of mud.
Grounding twenty feet apart the boats disgorged their loads, the seamen
leaping ashore in spite of the weight of arms and accoutrements. The
Maxims, too, were landed and mounted upon light travelling carriages.
The portable wireless apparatus was to accompany the landing-party,
while the officers and men left behind were to land the quick-firers,
since they could not command the ground from the boats owing to the
height of the banks.
Bourne realized that such things as reverses do happen, so he took
precautions accordingly. The men advanced in open order, with flankers
thrown far and wide.
From the top of a small hillock Denbigh watched the straw hats of the
men out of sight as they marched through the long grass; then, knowing
that some time must necessarily elapse before the landing-party came in
touch with the enemy, he busied himself in preparing for the
re-embarkation, should the operations prove to be shorter than Captain
Holloway had anticipated.
With the turn of the tide the boats were taken out into mid-stream and
anchored. Tripping lines were bent to the crowns of the anchors, the
other end of each line being made fast to a watch-buoy, so that the
operation of weighing would not be delayed by the fouling of the flukes
in possible snags on the bed of the river. Gang planks were prepared
in order that no hitch might occur should the men return at or near
dead-low water, when a stretch of ooze separated the dry ground from
the river.
For two hours Denbigh directed operations under the blazing sun. His
men worked like niggers, knowing that they, too, were doing their bit
although not in the actual firing-line.
At intervals came the faint detonations of a series of heavy
explosions. The sea-planes were at work, attempting by means of bombs
to arrest the flight of von Riesser's men across the narrow neck of
land.
Late in the forenoon one of the sea-planes flew overhead. Without
essaying to make a landing on the river, it flew down-stream,
presumably to take in a fresh supply of petrol and bombs. In an hour's
time it returned, and presently its opposite number flew overhead in
the direction of its parent ship.
Slowly the day wore on. At frequent intervals Denbigh climbed the
hillock and brought his glasses to bear upon the distant high ground.
Once or twice he fancied he heard the sounds of musketry and Maxim
firing in the sultry air. Armstrong and several of the men were of the
same opinion, agreeing that the firing was desultory and not constantly
maintained.
At length darkness fell. No one had seen the sea-planes returning
before sunset, and in addition to the great risk of making a night
landing these craft are of little practical use except in daylight.
With the approach of night Denbigh ordered double sentries to be
posted, and cautioned the boat-keepers to be alert and watchful for
signals. Those of the men left behind slept or rested beside the
quick-firers, protected from the heavy dew by boat awnings stretched on
oars and boat-hooks.
For Denbigh sleep was out of the question. Muffled in a boat-cloak,
for the off-shore wind blew chilly, he paced up and down with the mate
of the _Myra_.
"What's that over yonder?" asked Armstrong.
"Flashes--musketry," replied Denbigh. "It's strange that we cannot
hear the reports, for the wind is in our favour."
"Too steady for rifle-firing," suggested the mate. "Looks to me like a
bush fire."
"By Jove, I hope not," said the sub earnestly. "The grass will catch
like tinder."
A minute or so passed, then Denbigh lowered his binoculars.
"You're right, Armstrong," he said. "It is a fire. Those brutes have
set the grass ablaze to cover their retreat."
"Hark!" exclaimed the mate.
Overhead came the unmistakable buzzing of an aerial propeller. One of
the sea-planes, if not both, was returning.
Seizing a flashing-lamp Denbigh directed it skywards. It was the only
means at his disposal for communication.
"All right?" he asked.
A light blinked through the darkness.
"_Dash, dot_. Pause. _Dash, dash, dash_" it flashed; then it ceased
abruptly. Nevertheless the answer was to the point. It was NO.