SOME PRAUS AND A JUNK
Smith's destination, on leaving Penang, was Port Darwin in the
Northern Territory of Australia. He had never been at that port, and
knew that a few years before it had been little more than a collection
of grass humpys, inhabited by Chinese and Malays, with an iron shed
for a Custom House, and a vast expanse of forest and jungle behind.
But it was the principal port in the northern part of Australia, and
he had no doubt that at Palmerston, the thriving town on the eastern
shore, he would be able to obtain the necessary supply of petrol and
oil.
His map informed him that his course lay across the Malay Peninsula,
Dutch Borneo, and the islands of Celebes and Timor. It was necessary
to rise to a considerable height to cross the hills that run like a
spine on the Malay Peninsula, and having passed those, he came in
little over an hour to the eastern coast, about a hundred and fifty
miles north of Singapore. In another hour and a half he reached the
coast of Borneo, whence for nearly three hours he saw beneath him an
almost unbroken sea of foliage, only one range of hills breaking the
monotony. Somewhat after midday he came to the straits of Macassar, at
the south-east extremity of Borneo. As he crossed these, he had an
unpleasant shock. The engine missed sparking once or twice when he was
half-way across the Straits, and he shouted to Rodier to loose the
life buoys in case it failed. There were several small craft beneath
him, so that he had no doubt of being picked up if the aeroplane fell,
unless, indeed, sharks "got in first," as he put it. But the
interruption of the sparking was only temporary, and he reached the
island of Celebes safely. Then he thought it merely prudent to descend
and overhaul the engine, though he deplored the loss of time. He
landed on a solitary spot where there was no likelihood of being
molested, and Rodier having cleaned the fouled plug that had caused
the trouble, they went on again.
They were sailing low over the deep bay formed by the two huge
tentacles that run south and south-east from the crab-like body of the
island, when suddenly, above the noise of the engine, they heard the
sharp crack of a shot, then two or three more. Glancing up the bay to
his left, Smith saw a large junk, its sails hanging limp, surrounded
by a number of small craft which from their appearance he guessed to
be praus. He had read many a time of the fierce Malayan pirates that
used to infest these seas, and was somewhat surprised to find that
piracy had apparently not been wholly suppressed. As a matter of fact,
European vessels no longer ran the same risks as of old, the Malays
having learnt by experience that sooner or later retribution was bound
to overtake them; but it was a different matter with Chinese junks. So
long as these could be attacked successfully and secretly, with no
witnesses to carry information to the outside world, there was little
risk in swooping down upon them. The celestial government did not
follow up piratical forays of this kind in seas distant from the
Empire itself; and the Malays were not likely to attack unless they
had a great advantage over their victim in point of numbers. A junk
might be seized and its crew massacred without the slightest whisper
of the event coming to civilized ears.
Smith saw the praus clustering round the junk like a swarm of bees. It
was impossible to doubt what the result would be. He was loth to lose
more time: the plight of a Chinese vessel was no concern of his; yet
as he glanced up and down the bay and saw that it could obtain help
from no other quarter, he could not bring himself to leave the
hapless Chinamen to the fate that must overtake them unless he
intervened. Slackening speed, he cried to Rodier--
"We must do something."
The Frenchman nodded. Smith swung the aeroplane round, and descended
until it was circling immediately over the junk and its assailants.
Cries of amazement broke from some of the Malays as they caught sight
of this strange portent from the sky, but the greater number were
climbing up the sides of the junk, heedless of all else than the work
in hand. There was something fascinating to Smith in the spectacle:
the almost naked Malays, armed with their terrible krises, swarming on
every part of the vessel; the Chinamen with pikes, muskets, and
stink-balls fighting with the courage of despair to keep the boarders
at bay. As yet the Malays had not gained a permanent footing on the
deck, but for every man that was felled or hurled back into the praus
there were a dozen to fill the gap, and the most valorous of fighters
could not long contend against such odds.
For a little while Smith was perplexed as to what he could do to help
them. The necessity of keeping the aeroplane in motion did not permit
either Rodier or himself to use his revolver effectively. Without
doubt the Malays would be scared off if they fully realized his
presence, for they could scarcely have seen an aeroplane before, and
it must be to them a very terrifying object. But a Malay, when drunken
with hemp and his own ferocity, is as little subject to impressions of
his surroundings as an infuriated bull. The men left in the praus were
gazing up in terror at the humming aeroplane; but even during the few
seconds of Smith's hesitation the others gained the deck of the junk
forward of the mast, and with fierce yells and sweeping strokes of
their krises began to drive the Chinamen towards the poop. In a few
minutes the whole crew would be butchered and thrown to the sharks.
Suddenly an idea occurred to Smith. He planed upwards till the
aeroplane reached a height of about a hundred feet above the vessel,
calling to Rodier to bombard the boarders with the full bottles of
soda-water which they had with them. The Frenchman chuckled as he
seized the notion. Smith kept the aeroplane wheeling in a narrow
circle over the scene of combat, and when it was vertically above the
deck Rodier flung down several bottles one after another among the
Malays. The effect was instantaneous. These novel missiles flung from
so great a height, acted like miniature bombshells, exploding with a
loud report as they touched the deck, and flying into myriad
fragments. Not even the most rage-intoxicated Malay could withstand
the shock. The noise, the prickly splinters of glass, peppering
their half-naked bodies like a charge of small shot, altered their
blind fury to dismay and panic. With screams of affright they rushed
to the sides of the junk. But the men left in the praus had already
begun to paddle frantically away, heedless of the fate of their
comrades. These plunged overboard, and swam after the departing
vessels, whose flight Rodier speeded with another bottle or two. In
less than a minute the junk was clear.
For some minutes Smith shepherded the praus toward the shore. Every
now and then he saw a swimmer disappear suddenly: without doubt the
sharks were gathering to claim their prey. Then, feeling sure that the
Malays were too much terrified to think of renewing their attack on
the junk, he again set his face eastward towards the open sea.