"Konked Out"
Daybreak found the members of the expedition tired, hungry, and
undaunted. The gale had wrought havoc with their resources. In less
than a minute the work of days had been scattered to the winds, and
until the remains could be collected and examined not even a rough
idea of the state of their provisions and equipment could be
obtained.
Long before the waters of the lagoon returned to their usual state of
tranquillity, Harborough, Villiers, and Dick Beverley came ashore.
They, too, bore traces of the night's ordeal, for every man on board
had momentarily expected the _Titania_ to part her cables and come up
on the beach.
"It might have been worse," remarked Harborough philosophically, as
he surveyed the devastated site of the store-house. "We've had a very
sticky time. The motor-boat's gone--torn clean away from her chocks."
"And the cutter," added Beverley. "The remains are lying just beyond
that ledge."
"How did the sea-planes get on?" inquired Villiers.
"Can't say," replied Bobby. "Alec and young Trevear have gone off to
see what's happened."
"There's one thing," remarked Harborough. "We have no further use for
them, and it's merely a question of financial loss. We've to be
thankful that we came out with comparatively whole skins. Wonder how
the other fellows fared?"
"What other fellows?" inquired Villiers.
"Our friends the Huns," explained the baronet. "The _Zug_, with her
high freeboard and being fairly light in ballast, must have felt it
even more than the _Titania_. Directly we get things a bit ship-shape
I'll run across and see if they are all right. Hanged if I like the
idea of their being cut off on Ni Telang, even though they didn't act
all above board. Well, how about some breakfast, Pete?"
Harborough was not a man to question the workings of Providence, and
to moan and grouse because Nature had done her best to wreck his
plans. Adversity only spurred him to greater efforts. Like a
punching-ball, he rebounded promptly from the effects of what would
have been to the toughest prize-fighter a knock-out blow.
Pete, too, rose to the occasion. Although the kitchen had shared the
fate of the store-house, and the remains of the provisions took some
finding, the hungry men were presently sitting down to a hot and
appetising repast in which, greatly to Villiers' relief, cold pork
did not figure. But there was a new item on the menu: turtle steak.
Pete, wandering along the shore while the others were salving the
remains of the cutter, had discovered a fine specimen of a turtle,
capsized and lying far above high-water mark.
Breakfast had only just started when Claverhouse and his party
returned.
"One's gone, sir," he reported, in answer to Harborough's inquiry
concerning the sea-planes. "Turned completely over, and the motor's
crashed through the fuselage. The other is all right. On our way back
we found the motor-boat perched on top of a patch of undergrowth."
"Damaged?"
"Not as far as I could make out," replied Alec. "She is lying with
her bows well up, and the after part is full of water."
The meal over, Harborough outlined a plan of action. Until the damage
had been made good, as far as their resources permitted, further
operations on the wreck were to be suspended. Another store-house,
more solidly constructed, and erected on an enclosed clearing farther
from the beach, was put in hand. Griffiths and Bell, assisted by
Pete, were told off to examine the debris and set aside everything
likely to be of value. The two Beverleys, Merridew, Vivian, and
Fontayne were to launch the undamaged boats and to extricate the
motor-boat from its unaccustomed berth.
"By the by, Claverhouse," said Harborough. "You will be tuning up our
remaining _Cormorant_, I presume? If she's absolutely in
running-order, I wish you'd make a trip across to Ni Telang and see
how the _Zug_ stood the gale. Provided she's still afloat, you
needn't have any communication with our friend von Giespert. In fact,
if you can contrive to escape observation so much the better. I don't
want them to know we are anywhere in the vicinity."
"I understand, sir," replied Claverhouse. "If they're down and out,
we'll give them a leg up; if they aren't, we'll simply let 'em carry
on in their own sweet way."
"Precisely," agreed Harborough.
Alec hurried off to carry out his instructions. It was a task after
his own heart, a fairly-long out and home flight, which in his
opinion was infinitely preferable to doing "stunts" over the lagoon.
Assisted by Trevear, he had the planes reassembled and the engine
tuned up in less than an hour and a half. Then, with additional help,
the _Cormorant_ was launched and given a preliminary flight.
"Good enough, Trevear, old thing!" shouted Alec. "Sorry you aren't in
this stunt. Cheerio!"
The propeller began to revolve; the sea-plane taxied through the
water, turned head on to the light breeze, and "took off" in
faultless style.
Claverhouse "turned her nose at it", and rose steadily to a height of
two thousand feet. Then, following a compass course and allowing for
the slight side-drift, he held on for twenty minutes, at the end of
which time he could discern the triple peaks of Ni Telang.
The time of day was favourable for a reconnaissance without running
much risk of being spotted, for the sun was now almost overhead and
blazing down fiercely. Provided he kept at a sufficient height and
slowed down his engine until it "revved" just sufficient to give the
sea-plane enough lift to counteract the force of gravity, the trick
was easy.
Passing over the lagoon at an immense height, Alec got his glasses to
bear upon the scene beneath. The _Zug_ lay, apparently undamaged, at
the spot where she had dropped anchor at the conclusion of the race
to the the wrong island. Two or three boats lay alongside, but there
were no signs of activity.
"Looks as if they've packed up ready to go home," soliloquized
Claverhouse. "Wonder if they've realized that they've been done in
the eye?"
The answer to that question was, in Parliamentary language, "in the
affirmative", but Alec did not know that. Von Giespert was on the eve
of his desperate venture. He had sworn to gain possession of the gold
from the _Fusi Yama_ at all costs. If he failed, then he would make
doubly certain that Harborough would never get the precious metal to
England.
Harborough's generous action in sending Claverhouse to ascertain that
the _Zug_ was safe or otherwise was unnecessary from a life-saving
standpoint. The path of the hurricane had missed Ni Telang
altogether, the outer edge of the comparatively narrow, curved track
passing not nearer than twenty miles of the _Zug's_ anchorage.
Having completed his observations, Claverhouse turned, and, making a
long vol-plane, was well out of hearing-distance when he "opened
out".
As he did so his trained ear detected an unaccustomed sound. The
rythmic roar of the motor was giving place to a decidedly jerky
splutter. Greatly retarding the spark, he attempted to coax the
engine to pick up; juggling with the throttle produced no
satisfactory result. The "revs" grew slower and more erratic, until
Alec realized that there was nothing for it but to come down.
The floats struck the water with considerable force. The struts
whipped and groaned, but withstood the severe strain. The _Cormorant_
had alighted safely, but was beginning to drift steadily before the
breeze.
"At this rate she'll put me ashore at Ni Telang," thought Alec, as he
took off his gloves, pushed back his goggles, and prepared for a
determined attempt to trace the fault.
He located it quickly enough, but the knowledge disconcerted him. The
magneto had shorted. Possibly the damage had been caused during the
gale, but, by one of those extraordinary pranks that magnetos will
play, it had functioned perfectly for several hours before "going
West".
Claverhouse clambered down to one of the floats and lit a cigarette.
"There's one blessing," he observed to the empty expanse of sea: "Ni
Telang in 1920 isn't Ostend in 1917. But I'll have to pitch a yarn to
von Giespert, or he'll smell a rat. Wonder what'll happen, though, if
I miss the island altogether?"
At the end of two hours drift he was able to reassure himself on that
score. Unless there were a decided shift of wind the _Cormorant_
would hit Ni Telang or the reef surrounding it. He did not fancy the
latter locality. Even viewed from a great height the surf did not
appear inviting.
"If I could only steer the old bus, I'd make the entrance to the
lagoon," he decided.
Juggling with the ailerons seemed a likely solution, but the only
result was to cause the machine to dip and have a tendency to turn
broadside on. The hydro rudder, by which the _Cormorant_ could be
turned when taxi-ing on the surface, was inadequate while drifting at
slow speed.
"The old bus is done for in any case," he soliloquized, and, armed
with a knife, wire-cutters, and pliers he made his way out on one of
the planes and removed the starboard aileron. This he lashed to a
dismantled strut, and on taking the improvised paddle to the after
float he found that he could keep the sea-plane fairly under control
with the clumsy steering-oar.
It was not until the derelict was actually within the lagoon that one
of the _Zug's_ crew spotted the unexpected arrival. A boat was manned
and rowed off to the _Cormorant_.
"I suppose I ought to sink the old bus," thought Alec. "If I did, it
would look fishy. After all, I don't suppose they'll be able to make
use of her."
"Where do you hail from?" inquired the coxswain of the boat. He spoke
in English, knowing from grim experience of recent history that
English is the master-language of the Pacific, and that German is at
a discount.
Claverhouse, with a comprehensive sweep of his arm, indicated a good
180 degrees of the horizon.
The German grunted.
"Get on board," he said gruffly.
Nothing more was said until the boat ran alongside the _Zug's_
accommodation-ladder. There were plenty of men looking over the
bulwarks, but they certainly did not appear to be overburdened with
work.
Von Giespert's greeting of his uninvited guest left no doubt in
Alec's mind about his idea of bluff.
"How's Harborough getting on at Nua Leha?" asked the German bluntly.
"Quite well, when I last saw him," replied Claverhouse. "As a matter
of fact, he sent me to see how you were getting on."
"Spying, eh?"
"Not at all," corrected Alec. "He thought your vessel might have been
driven ashore in the hurricane last night, and was rather anxious
concerning your safety."
"He'll have quite enough to do to think about his own safety before
I've done with him," rejoined von Giespert insolently. "Meanwhile,
you'll consider yourself a prisoner, Mr. Whatever your name is. If
you give trouble, then we'll pitch you to the sharks."
"Right-o," replied Alec. "You might do me one favour, though."
"What's that?" inquired von Giespert.
"Let Harborough know I'm safe."
The Hun laughed boisterously. He felt that as far as his prisoner was
concerned he could afford to ride the high horse.
"If Harborough is anxious, he can come here for you," he replied.
"I'll be more than ready for him."
[Illustration: CLAVERHOUSE STEERS THE SEAPLANE INTO THE LAGOON]