The First Day on the Island
"No agents' fees," continued Captain Davis. "Situation pleasant,
healthy locality, standing on high ground, &c., &c. Frequent trams to
the City--I don't think."
Burgoyne regarded the collection of huts without enthusiasm. Some
were already rotting. The galvanized iron roofs were rusting through
in several places, while attempts had been made to repair the damage
by means of powdered coral worked into a kind of cement. Hibiscus
plants flourished between the buildings, tough-tendrilled creepers
clung tenaciously to the woodwork, as if endeavouring to cloak the
defects with verdure.
"We'll soon get the show shipshape," remarked the purser. "I've seen
worse cribs in the slums of Southampton."
"Then the sooner the better, Mr. Holmes," added Alwyn briskly.
"Coming along, Captain Davis?"
The ex-skipper of the _Kittiwake_ shook his head.
"Sorry," he replied. "I'm deputy chief cook for our crowd. They'd
raise Cain, even though I'm their Old Man, if their grub wasn't
ready. See you at 'stand easy'."
"One moment, Captain," said Burgoyne. "Before you sheer off I want to
thank you. Also I want to ask a question: have any of you a razor to
lend?"
Captain Davis laughed heartily.
"Bless me!" he exclaimed. "I hope you don't count on keeping up
appearances, young man. If you do you'll be disappointed. None of us
have seen a razor, let along handled one, for close on five weeks.
Don't worry, beards grow quick enough in this climate, and you won't
be long in the bristling stage."
"How about hair-cutting?" asked Burgoyne hopefully, with a view to
ulterior motives.
"That was a proposition that worried us," admitted the skipper. "We
didn't object very much to have to grow whiskers, but we drew the
line at getting a mop like a bobbed schoolgirl. Take my tip. When
your hair gets too long use a chisel, or rather get a chum to use one
on your thatch. You'll find plenty of cutting tools in the
carpenters' shop over yonder, but for Heaven's sake don't bring one
into the compound, or Black Strogoff will give you a week in the
'Glory Hole'."
Half an hour later the passengers and crew of the _Donibristle_ were
in possession of their new quarters. One of the largest huts was set
aside for a hospital, and into this Captain Blair, Mostyn, and the
wounded seamen were carried. The steward and a deckhand named Twill
(who had served an apprenticeship with an Edinburgh chemist, but,
failing to pass the pharmaceutical examination, had forsaken the
pestle and mortar for a life afloat) were told off to act as hospital
attendants. This reduced the number of "hands" allotted to the
cook-house to two: Colonel Vivian and "Young Bill".
The colonel was appointed to the post of head cook because it was a
fairly "soft" job, and did not require much manual work. "Young Bill"
was chosen to be his assistant because "Young Bill" was his daughter.
In her new capacity Hilda Vivian would stand less chance of detection
than if she had been compelled to work with the men outside the
compound. It was at Holmes's suggestion that Miss Vivian had been
sent to the cook-house. She rather resented it, and would have
preferred a more strenuous, out-door occupation, but Burgoyne, in his
official position as senior executive officer, clenched the
arrangement, at the same time thanking the purser for his
well-thought-out suggestion.
Ramon Porfirio had plenty of work on hand. He knew that the armed
rabble that formed the crew of the _Malfilio_, and the garrison of
the secret base, would not follow industrial pursuits. They were
"gentlemen-in-arms", whether they were white, black, brown, or
yellow, and when not engaged afloat or on guard duties they took care
to live a life of ease.
The menial and industrial work fell to the pirates' captives. They
were made to toil; but Porfirio was intelligent enough to realize
that no man can perform a good day's work if he is half-starved.
There was plenty of food on the island, so the prisoners had enough
to keep them in working trim.
Amongst the pirates there was one hard-and-fast regulation that
occasioned considerable discontent, but Porfirio showed unrelenting
sternness with regard to it. He absolutely barred the use or
possession of intoxicating spirits; not because he was an adherent to
the tenets of Pussyfoot, but because he knew the dire results of
plying Malays and Chinese with strong drink. Although he, his
lieutenants, and the South American section of his band were hard
drinkers, they voluntarily agreed to desist from the use of alcohol,
so that the Asiatics would have no cause for jealousy.
Within the two hours allowed by Black Strogoff the _Donibristle's_
men, marshalled into working-gangs, went to their stated tasks. The
pick of the engine-room staff, under the supervision of Angus and
Withers (the latter had resumed his official status), marched off to
join the other forcibly-recruited workmen in the blacksmiths' and
machinists' shops. The deck-hands and the remainder of the firemen
were divided into two parties. One, under Branscombe, was to proceed
on board the _Donibristle_ and unload her cargo; the other, under
Burgoyne, was told off to haul the booty to the top of the cliff and
carry it into the store-houses.
Although the work of despoiling his own ship was an irksome and
depressing task, Burgoyne felt glad to a certain extent that it fell
to his lot. It gave him an opportunity to study the lay of the land,
which, had he been sent to toil in the workshops, would have been
denied him.
Escorted by two Peruvian half-castes, armed with automatic pistols
and long, heavy knives, the Third Officer's men were taken to the
edge of the cliffs surrounding the spacious landlocked harbour. From
this point of vantage Burgoyne could observe not only the greater
part of the anchorage, but a considerable portion of the island as
well.
At one time there had been a powerful electric crane built on the
edge of the cliff, its longer arm projecting well beyond the almost
vertical wall of rock. The electric plant had given out, but the
crane still remained, rusty, but to a certain degree serviceable. It
had to be worked and trained by manual power, the hauling-up gear
consisting of a large winch bolted to the bed of the former electric
capstan.
It took the party the best part of two hours to overhaul and prepare
the flexible steel ropes and treble-sheaved blocks, while Burgoyne,
keenly on the alert lest any of the men should incautiously run
needless risks, kept all his attention upon the movements of the
active fellows swarming on the latticed steelwork. But when all
preparations were completed, and the hard-worked men had to await the
first consignment of cargo from the _Donibristle_, Alwyn found an
opportunity to survey his surroundings.
Except for the conical hill that he had noted on his way from the
tunnel to the compound, Burgoyne found that the crane was situated on
the highest part of the island, although, when not in use, it could
be run back on four parallel lines until it was invisible from
seaward.
He judged the island to be in the form of an irregular oblong, three
miles from north to south, and two miles from east to west. On the
east side lay the landlocked harbour with its outer barrier of
detached granite cliffs. Judging by the colour of the water the
harbour was almost uniformly deep, with the exception of a rocky
patch immediately inside the entrance on the port hand, and another
about a cable's length from the extreme southernmost part of the
curve of the shore. A mile beyond the entrance was coral reef, but
how far it extended, and in what position was the entrance to the
lagoon, Burgoyne had at that time no means of ascertaining, as both
on the right hand and on the left the edge of the cliff cut the
skyline.
Directing his attention inland, Alwyn saw little to be of assistance
to him. The barracks, workshops, stores, and a building which he
concluded was a magazine all lay on a lower level than that of the
top of the cliffs. He had no chance of seeing what the southern and
western sides of the island were like, except that he knew they must
be precipitous. Whether coral reef completely encircled the secret
base remained as yet a matter for speculation.
Towards the horns of the landlocked harbour, he could make out at
least half a dozen gun emplacements, constructed for weapons with
disappearing mountings.
"I must make a closer acquaintance of those gentlemen," he decided.
"4.7's, or 6-inchers at the very outside. Even then it must have
taken the Huns a deuce of a swot to get the guns up the cliff. Hello!
There's the first boatload coming ashore. I guess Branscombe's jolly
sick over his job."
The _Donibristle_ had been moved a hundred yards closer inshore, and
was lying between the _Kittiwake_ and the _Alvarado_. The _Malfilio_
had left, probably in pursuit of another prey.
It somewhat puzzled Burgoyne to know why the pirates had decided to
take the _Donibristle's_ cargo ashore. Cases of hardware and
machinery would be of little use to them on the island; but, disposed
of in Vladivostok or Petropavlovsk, where they might be sent into
Soviet Russia, their contents would be of almost priceless value.
But, Alwyn remarked, life just now was full of surprises, most of
them being very disagreeable ones, and for the time being it was best
for him to knuckle under and look small until the opportunity arose
to be up and doing.
Steam had just been raised on board the _Donibristle_ to enable her
to use her derricks, but the work of loading up the boats proceeded
slowly. For one thing, the men under Branscombe's orders showed no
enthusiasm for their task. Neither did Branscombe for that matter. It
was quite a different proposition having to work with forced labour.
The men just kept going and no more, so that they would not incur the
wrath of the pirates by obviously "hanging on the slack".
It was six o'clock by the time the first boatload of cargo had been
hoisted up the cliff and placed in one of the stores. The crane was
run back out of sight. The various small craft used in connection
with the operation were hauled up and secured by stout padlocks to a
heavy chain; the oars and gear removed and placed under lock and key.
This task completed, the working-parties were to a limited extent
free until the following morning.
On the return journey to the compound, Burgoyne and Branscombe were
able to compare notes. Neither was enthusiastic over his share in the
operations, but each had made good use of his eyes with a view to
subsequent events. Presently they were joined by Withers and Angus,
who had finished their daily task in the shops. All were agreed that
the pirates, although unspeakably lazy, were smart at their unholy
trade, and left nothing undone to safeguard the secrets of the
island.
"It will take some doing to get clear of this show," remarked Phil
Branscombe. "You couldn't see from up there, Burgoyne, old man, but
the beach is bristling with machine-guns. They've mounted a couple on
the _Kittiwake_."
"And what do they propose doing with the old _Donibristle_?" asked
Alwyn. "Did you find out anything?"
"A couple of greasy, gold-laced blighters came on board," replied the
Fourth Officer. "Apparently they didn't think much of things, 'cause
they shook their heads and jabbered rather dolefully when they
examined the results of their own gun-fire."
"It seems to me that our one chance is to cut out the old ship while
she has steam up," said Burgoyne. "She's sound enough below the
water-line, and her engines are all right, aren't they, Angus?"
The Chief grunted in assent.
"Oh aye," he replied without enthusiasm. "But I'll tak the liberty
tae inquire what ye just propose to do?"
"The _Malfilio_ is away cruising," observed Burgoyne tentatively.
"Yes," agreed Branscombe, "but there are at least fifty armed
ruffians left behind, to say nothing of the quick-firers and
machine-guns. We'd be a scrap heap before we cleared the entrance.
Hello! Stand by! We're nearly there."
The four officer's separated to rejoin their respective parties.
Other batches of men, crews of the _Kittiwake_ and _Alvarado_, were
held up outside the compound gate, while the guards from the two
block-houses counted them and compared the numbers with those who had
passed out earlier in the day.
It was now night, but two powerful acetylene lamps aided the guards
in their task. Nevertheless it was more than a quarter of an hour
later before the _Donibristle's_ men were able to be dismissed to
their huts.
From each building one man was told off to fetch the evening meal
from the galley. Considering the limited supplies and utensils at his
command, Colonel Vivian had risen to the occasion. No doubt Hilda had
been in a great measure responsible for the success of the cooking,
for each man received a pint of soup, in which floated minute pieces
of mutton, and a small loaf made of wheat flour and taro. This they
ate in their various quarters by the dim light of a small candle in
each room.
"How do you like your new job, Young Bill?" inquired Alwyn, after he
had complimented her father upon the cooking arrangements.
"I rather like it," she admitted. "It's a novelty; but I don't think
I'd care to be a professional cook."
"You did jolly well," said the Third Officer admiringly.
"Wait until you've eaten yours," cautioned Hilda. "Then you might
have cause to regret your hasty opinion."
Burgoyne stepped back and altered the position of the candle until
the light shone on the girl's face. She returned the steady gaze
unmoved.
"I suppose you know," he remarked slowly, "that I am responsible, as
senior executive officer, for the passengers and crew of the
_Donibristle_? You do? That's good. Then I'm going to reprimand you.
Why have you washed your face?"
Hilda looked astonished.
"Washed my face! Of course I had to wash, especially as I'm a cook.
You wouldn't like your meals prepared with dirty hands."
"No, I wouldn't," admitted Alwyn. "But I might point out that it is
not customary to touch food with one's face. Now look here--I'm
serious. In future rub your cheeks and chin over with ashes, or
you'll be spotted for an absolute cert. Right-o! I'm glad you see my
point."
Burgoyne's next step was to visit the wounded men. He found Captain
Blair considerably better. The steward reported that the skipper's
temperature had fallen, and was now only one degree above normal,
while his wounds showed no sign of complications. Mostyn was not so
well. He recognized Burgoyne and greeted him with a faint smile.
"I'm just slacking," he remarked feebly, "but you won't want me for a
while, I guess. An operator without his 'set' is like Hamlet without
the Prince of Denmark. But we had a run for our money, hadn't we?"
With one exception the men appeared to be doing well; but, as the
steward was cautious enough to remark, it was too early to tell how
things would pan out.
"Considering the limited appliances at your disposal, Barnes, you've
done toppingly," declared Burgoyne.
"Glad to hear it, sir," replied the steward, but he omitted to
mention that a great share of the credit was due to Twill, his
assistant, whose medical knowledge gained in his student days was
being put to good use.
His round completed, Burgoyne returned to the quarters allotted to
the ship's officers, where he found his belated meal cold but none
the less acceptable.
By that time the huts were invaded by the crews of the other captured
ships. Keen to know the latest possible news of the outside world,
they were anxious to fraternize.
Amongst the visitors to the officers' room was Captain Davis.
"All shipshape an' Bristol fashion, I see," he remarked cheerily.
"Nothing like making the best of things. I'd like to have your cook.
He must be a gem. The whiff of your grub drifted over our way and
nearly drove the boys frantic with envy. Well, it's close on time to
douse lights, so we won't stay."
"Douse lights?" repeated Burgoyne. "Is there any rule about that?"
"There is and there isn't," replied the skipper of the _Kittiwake_,
with a grin. "If you put 'em out at nine, well and good. If you
don't, often as not old Strogoff will beat up a party to hoist up
ashes or some such job. So we've learnt a trick and out go the
lights. Cheerio, everybody."
Ten minutes later Alwyn Burgoyne was in a deep, dreamless slumber.