SMOKE ON THE HORIZON
An angry swell rolled along the coast, dust blew across the flat-roofed
town, and _Mossamedes_, with two anchors out, rode uneasily. She had
unloaded some cargo and Kit, going ashore in the evening, speculated
about the rest. He did not think he was superstitious, but the voyage
had not begun well, and he wanted to get it over. There was something
strange about the business in which he was engaged, and he resolved he
would talk to Wolf when he returned.
Moreover, he did not like the dirty Moorish town. When it got dark the
narrow streets were forbidding, but Yusuf declared he could not transact
the ship's business until he closed his shop. In the Canaries and
Morocco, rich merchants keep a shop. One could buy a shipload of their
goods or a few pesetas' worth.
Yusuf's little room was very hot. The dust had blown in, and the floor
was gritty. Flies hovered about the copper lamp which burned an aromatic
oil. The agent gave Kit coffee and a cigarette. The tobacco was bitter
but soothing and Kit imagined it was mixed with an Eastern drug. At
Yusuf's he generally felt dull; perhaps it was the smell of the lamp,
leather and spices. They began to talk, and presently Kit remarked: "If
you send your boats to-morrow, we will hoist out the last of the cargo.
Have you got much stuff for us?"
"I have got nothing," said Yusuf, smiling. "Your cargo is on board."
"All the goods we carry are consigned to the Greek merchant here and
you."
"That is so, but I will endorse the bill of lading, and file a statement
for the Customs officers that the cases of machinery will be landed at
another port."
"Ah!" said Kit who began to see a light. "Then we are to carry the cases
along the coast? I was puzzled about this lot of cargo; but we got it
from a Spanish ship at Las Palmas. The cases were put on board in
daylight when two of the port captain's men were on deck.
"The plan was good," Yusuf remarked. "When one does things openly nobody
is curious."
"All the same, the Moorish officers know machinery is not used in the
Sahara."
"It is not the officers' business. They are friends of mine, and in this
country a present carries some weight."
Kit knew Wolf and his agent were clever, but began to think they were
cleverer than he liked. He felt he was being used, and, so to speak,
kept in the dark. He did not know the others' plans, in which he was
involved, but if the plans did not work, he thought he ran some risk.
Yusuf was subtle, and Kit's instinctive antagonism hardened. For all
that, he was Wolf's servant and must carry out his agent's orders.
"I will endorse the bill of lading," the other resumed. "You will land
the boxes at the spot you got the camels, and the owner will take his
goods. Perhaps he will keep the document for a talisman. Some of these
people have a strange respect for all that is written on paper."
"Very well," said Kit, who got up.
Yusuf went with him to the door, and Kit starting along the street,
heard the heavy bolts shoot back. To know the business was over was
something of a relief. Although Yusuf was inscrutable at his house one
got a sense of fear and secrecy. In Morocco a Jew trader was perhaps
forced to use caution, but Kit thought he would sooner deal with the
wild Berbers who ruled the open desert. Yet he owned he had no firm
grounds for doubting Wolf's agent. When he got on board _Mossamedes_ he
went to the chart-room and found Don Erminio playing cards with the
mate. The captain had won two pesetas and was jubilant.
"Juan is clever and cautious. I am not clever, but I am bold," he said.
Kit noted the bottle on the table. When Don Erminio drank a few glasses
of _cana_ he philosophised. Kit narrated his interview with Yusuf, and
the captain looked thoughtful.
"It is plain the boxes hold guns," he said. "The Moors do not carry guns
to shoot the rabbit, and if we land the boxes somebody will get killed.
However, it is not important. The Moors are numerous and all are bad."
"I was not thinking about the Moors," Kit rejoined. "The business is
strange. The guns were on board a Spanish ship and if the Moors use them
to steal camels, the camels will no doubt be stolen on soil that is
claimed by France. There may be trouble afterwards. Our employer knows
this."
Don Erminio picked up the cards. Spanish cards are not marked like
English cards, but Kit thought the one the captain indicated stood for
the ace of clubs.
"_Bastones!_" Don Erminio remarked and shuffled the pack. "I put it at
the bottom. You see it is there? Now take three away and you will find
it at the top. A trick, but clever. Senor Wolf plays a game like this."
Kit carried out his instructions and laughed. "Wolf is, no doubt,
clever, but this is _not_ the card."
Don Erminio frowned and swept the pack on to the floor. The swing-table
tilted, but Juan stretched out his hand and seized the bottle.
"Senor!" he expostulated. "The _cana_ cost two pesetas!"
"I have forgotten something. All the same, you see the moral," Don
Erminio resumed. "Merchants are cheats and use cunning tricks. One
thinks one knows their plan, but one does not. One puts one's money on
the wrong card and it is gone. Sailors are honest and do not get rich.
Well, we will carry out our orders. That is enough for me. I have drunk
some _cana_ and in the morning my throat is bad."
Two days afterwards _Mossamedes_ hove her anchors and steamed south. As
a rule, the Trade-breeze blows steadily, but now and then its strength
varies. Sometimes a little rain falls and the day is nearly calm;
sometimes the wind backs north and blows hard. _Mossamedes'_ holds were
almost empty and her rolling was wild. When she plunged across the long
swell, half her screw came out of the water and one heard the top blades
thrash. Don Erminio followed the coast, steering as near land as he
durst. He wanted to avoid the traffic, and _Mossamedes_, going light,
did not draw much water. She was built to cross the sands at African
river mouths.
One morning Kit went to the bridge. The sun was not high and the air was
fresh. The wind had dropped, and the faint haze that generally softens
the light and glitter when the Trade-breeze blows had vanished. The sky
was a harsh, vivid blue, and the tops of the long rollers cut the
horizon with sharp distinctness. They did not break, but rose and
subsided, leaving here and there soft streaks of foam. For all that, the
swell ran high, _Mossamedes_ lurched about, and Kit thought wind was
coming. He was bothered about it. If the wind were fresh, they could
not land their dangerous cargo. The mate leaned against a stanchion and
searched the sky-line with his glasses. After a time he gave the glasses
to Kit.
"Look!" he said.
Kit saw a faint brown smear drawn across the sky. It was rather like a
thin cloud, but he thought it smoke. When the wind is light, a steamer's
smoke spreads far and floats for some time. The strange thing was, the
steamer was there, inside the proper track. He glanced at _Mossamedes'_
funnel but the last coal they had got was good and diaphanous vapour
rolled astern. Kit put down the glasses and went to the captain's room.
Don Erminio came out, studied the smoke, and frowned. He wore pyjamas
and a shooting jacket, torn at the back.
"The animals cannot see us, but a steamer ought not to be so near the
coast," he said. "Then we will soon reach the spot where we land the
guns."
"Perhaps the captain takes a drink," Juan remarked.
"It is possible. When I drink much _cana_, my calculations are not
good," Don Erminio agreed. "All the same, to run a risk is foolish. We
will stop and use the lead."
After he got a sounding he changed his course three or four points east
and steered obliquely for the land. In the meantime the smoke vanished
and Kit went down and told Macallister to keep his fires clean. To see
smoke where smoke ought not to be was disturbing, and if the others had
seen _Mossamedes_, they would speculate about her captain's object for
navigating shallow water.
When Kit went on deck again the swell had begun to break and ran
ominously high. The wind was not yet strong, but it strengthened and the
sky in the north was black. At noon, a sailor in the rigging thought he
saw smoke again. Don Erminio went up with his glasses, but saw nothing
and gave the glasses to Kit.
"The Norther begins," he said.
In the distance, a brown fog obscured the horizon and Kit knew it was a
dust-storm blowing off the coast. Spray leaped about _Mossamedes'_
forecastle, her plunges were violent and to hold on to the rigging while
the mast swung was hard. They went down and soon afterwards the look-out
hailed. Kit was on deck and joined Don Erminio on the bridge. When
_Mossamedes_ lifted, two masts and the top of a funnel cut the horizon.
Kit thought it ominous that he saw no smoke.
The sea had got up and long, white-topped combers rolled after the ship.
When her stern swung out of the water the engines ran away and their
savage throbbing shook the deck. With her rudder lifted, she did not
steer, and while the helmsman sweated at the wheel she yawed about until
her quarters sank and the screw got hold. One could not drive her fast,
but much of her side was above water and the savage wind helped. For a
time the other vessel's smoke vanished in the thickening spray. Then
they saw her again, sharp and distinct. The ominous thing was, they did
not, as they might have expected, see her on the quarter but abeam. It
was plain that when _Mossamedes_ changed her course, or soon afterwards,
the stranger had changed hers.
"The French gunboat!" Don Erminio said and clenched his fist. "Somebody
has sold us."
Going to the compass, he got the other's bearing, and Kit marked his
coolness. When the strain was steady the captain did not tear his hair.
He took Kit and the mate to the chart-room, and a few moments afterwards
Macallister came up. The rules of the British liners were not used on
board _Mossamedes_, and Don Erminio spread a chart on the table. Then he
lighted a cigarette and indicated the steamer's course along, but
converging on, the coast.
"The wady is not far ahead," he remarked and put a pin in the spot. "To
cross the shoals might be dangerous and I doubt if our anchor would
hold. However, if we do not cross, the animal will soon be nearer."
It was obvious when the captain sketched a triangle, of which the
gunboat occupied the apex and _Mossamedes'_ course was the base. In
order to clear the shoals she must shorten the base and, steaming out,
lessen the distance between them; if she turned and steamed the other
way the gunboat would come down obliquely and cut her line. The long
chase is the stern chase, but _Mossamedes_ could not make off like this
because she was jambed against the coast. Two things were plain: the
Frenchman commanded the faster vessel and had well chosen her position.
"The Jew has sold us, but just now it is not important," Don Erminio
resumed. "We cannot long run away from the French animal, but I have a
plan. We will throw the guns overboard and wait for him."
He looked at Kit, who hesitated for a few moments. The captain's plan
had marked advantages and some drawbacks. For one thing, the guns were
valuable and if they were sacrificed Wolf must front a heavy loss.
Moreover, if they were not delivered, the tribes with whom he traded
would refuse to trust him again. This counted for much, but Kit was not
altogether thinking about Wolf. His rule was to do what he undertook,
and to do so now might baffle the man who had cheated him.
"I think not," he said. "Our business is to deliver our cargo. If Yusuf
has plotted with the Frenchman, we must spoil the plot, and I don't know
a better plan than to carry out his orders. He sent us south to land
the guns and we will land them. It will soon be dark, and if we get
across the shoals there is some shelter behind the sands. Revillon durst
not cross."
"_Buen' muchacho!_" said the captain and looked at Macallister. "It will
be dark at six o'clock. Can we keep in front?"
Macallister knitted his brows. "I'll no' say it's easy. When the screw's
jumping oot o' water ye cannot get much grip to shove her along. For a'
that, yon stump-tail gunboat will jump worse, and the old engine's good.
If she does not shake off her screw, I'll keep ye ahead."
Kit began to translate, but the captain smiled. "Me, I know the English.
Don Pedro good ol' sport. _Bueno; muy bueno!_ I jump much _en caballo_;
now I jump the sandbank. If the other thinks he catch us, we drown the
animal."
Kit thought it possible. _Mossamedes_ was built with heavy bottom frames
to bump across African river bars, and was going light. He imagined the
gunboat's draught was some feet more than hers. All the same, the thing
was risky. If _Mossamedes_ touched the sand she might not come off.
"It is good! I go for Miguel Saenz," Juan, the mate, agreed.