The Capture of the Secret Base
"Yes, I'll admit that," conceded Captain Blair to Captain Davis, late
of the S.S. _Kittiwake_. "We've had bad weather. It blew like great
guns twelve hours after the life-boat got away from here. But
Burgoyne knows what he's about. He's used to small sailing craft and
so are the other fellows. He'll win through."
"A good many days have passed since the boat left," remarked Captain
Davis. "He has had time to fetch the Marshall Islands and get a
warship here long ago. Of course, he might have escaped the gale, or
even struck the tail end of it."
The two skippers were having their after-supper yarn, and as usual
conversation turned upon the subject of Burgoyne's dash with the
life-boat. Both men had their doubts, but Captain Blair refused to
admit his. The skipper of the _Kittiwake_, sanguine for the first
fortnight, was beginning to express grave concern as to the possible
fate of the life-boat and her crew.
"That bilious-faced Strogoff isn't back yet," continued Captain
Blair. "There's no doubt about it, he's in pursuit of Burgoyne. If
he'd found him he'd be back before this, especially as the
_Malfilio's_ expected back at any moment."
"Mind you, I'm only speculating on it," said Captain Davis. "But I've
a notion that Strogoff took that Canuk passenger of yours along with
him. When did you see the lubber last?"
"The night the life-boat got away," replied Captain Blair. "Or,
rather, Mr. Tarrant saw him talking to Strogoff just before the
evening muster."
"Pity you hadn't--" began Davis, then, clutching his companion's arm,
he pointed to the two block-houses by the gate of the compound.
"Something up over there," he added.
In the light of a couple of portable petrol lanterns considerable
activity was observable amongst the guards. Their numbers were being
much diminished by the withdrawal of twenty armed and obviously
excited pirates, while the remainder were gesticulating violently,
some pointing to the compound, others to the two machine-guns that
commanded that far from delectable spot.
Presently the gate of the compound was unlocked, and Fernando,
accompanied by half a dozen armed men, entered the enclosure. A
whistle sounded--the signal for the prisoners to assemble.
In five minutes every officer and man remaining out of the original
crews of the three captured vessels turned out and fell in, taking up
their allotted positions, and forming three sides of a hollow
square.
Into the centre strode Fernando and his bodyguard, and without
further ado, without even calling the roll, the half-caste began
reading in execrable English the orders for the night.
All lights and fires were to be extinguished. No one was to leave his
hut until further notice. No shouting or demonstration of any sort
was to be permitted. Any breach of these regulations would be
punished by a heavy and prolonged burst of machine-gun fire upon the
prisoners' camp.
"This looks like business, Angus," remarked Captain Blair to the
Chief Engineer, after the parade had been dismissed and Fernando had
left the compound.
"Ay, sure," agreed Angus. "Weel, I doot we'd best bide the noo. I ken
fine yon Porfirio person has took mair than he can abide by. We'll be
seein' shot and shell flyin' come the morn."
The Chief Engineer's surmise was a correct one. A wireless message
from the _Malfilio's_ seaplane had just been picked up in which the
pilot informed Porfirio of the disconcerting news that a couple of
large cruisers, some destroyers, and a few aircraft were looking for
him.
The news was enough to strike terror into the hearts of the pirates
who formed the garrison of the secret base. They knew perfectly well
that it mattered little as to whether the _Malfilio_ escaped,
returned to the island, or was sunk. In any case they couldn't get
away, and before long they would have a powerful squadron trying
conclusions with them. They might fight to the last, but there was no
escape. Surrender meant death, save for those who might obtain
respite by turning evidence against the others.
To increase their desperation was the belief that Porfirio,
Henriques, and Black Strogoff had deliberately abandoned them to
their fate. The prolonged absence of the _Malfilio_ and the
disappearance of Strogoff with a band of boon companions seemed to
confirm this theory, and when rogues distrust each other their plans
fall to the ground.
All that night the feeling that there was something in the air kept
everyone awake. The pirates were apprehensive and jumpy; their
captives sanguine and excited, in spite of the tedious passage of the
night hours.
Just as dawn was breaking Phil Branscombe went to the open window of
his hut and listened intently. Then he turned to Withers, his
"cabin-mate".
"Old bird," he announced, "I hear an aeroplane."
"The _Malfilio's_ seaplane returning, I expect," rejoined Withers,
stifling a yawn.
"Wrong, my festive!" exclaimed Phil ten seconds later. "They're
British seaplanes."
Of that there was no doubt. Flying high they were already in the rays
of the sun, while the ground was yet in shadow--three large biplanes
fitted with both floats and landing-wheels. Above the island they
separated, one passing over the harbour, another circling above the
Observation Hill, and the third, swooping down to within a couple of
hundred feet, described figures of eight above the prisoners' huts.
Presently a powerful Aldis light flashed from the third seaplane.
Blinking rapidly it Morsed the following, "Are prisoners compelled to
man batteries?"
Regardless of Fernando's warning, at least half a dozen men signalled
replies, using any fabric nearest to hand to "flag-wag" the
reassuring message that all hands were within the limits of the
fence.
"O.K." flashed the seaplane's lamp, and then the information was
promptly transmitted by wireless to the _Armadale_.
Meanwhile the second seaplane had dropped a message, with distinctive
streamers attached, close to the Observation Hill. It was an
ultimatum, ordering the garrison to surrender at discretion, and
signify the same by hoisting a white flag within thirty minutes of
the receipt of the demand.
But the ill-advised action on the part of the machine-gunners in the
block-houses destroyed the chance of the pirates surrendering without
bloodshed. The seaplane over the prisoners' camp offered an
irresistible bait, and a burst of machine-gun fire was directed upon
the rapidly-moving aircraft.
Retribution came swiftly. The seaplane, absolutely untouched, rose
steeply until it was impossible for the pirates to elevate their
machine-guns sufficiently to bear upon the aerial target. Then in
quick succession it released four powerful bombs. One secured a
direct hit, blowing a block-house to atoms, while the others, falling
close to the second machine-gun post, damaged it so severely that
only three badly-scared men emerged from the ruins, and fled
panic-stricken to a shelter of a more substantial nature.
Remaining aloft sufficiently long to wireless the news to the
Commodore and to wind up her trailing aerial, the seaplane volplaned
down and made a faultless landing close to the huts occupied by the
_Donibristle's_ crew.
"We'll hike you all out of this in another three or four hours,"
declared the flight-lieutenant to the crowd of merchant seamen
gathered round the machine, "but you'll have to bear a hand. In case
the pirates start reprisals on you, take these."
He handed out canvas bags containing Service revolvers and
ammunition, sufficient to arm eighty men.
"Right-o!" he continued. "Our heavy guns will start firing in half a
shake, but don't get the wind up. We've located your position all
right. Your only danger is if these yellow blighters start running
amok this way. If they do, shoot hard and straight. Well, cheerio! My
work's not done yet. I'm spotting for the _Armadale_--one of our
crack cruisers."
"One moment," interposed Captain Blair. "Have you any news of my
Third Officer, Mr. Burgoyne?"
The Flying Officer shook his head.
"Never heard of him," he replied. "What do you want?"
"He got away from here in a boat to obtain help," replied Captain
Blair. "We thought perhaps it was he who reported the existence of
the pirate Porfirio."
"May have done," rejoined the Australian flying officer dubiously.
"I'm from the seaplane carrier _Murchison_, and all I know is that we
received sealed orders to proceed here. Well, s'long, and the very
best of everything."
The seaplane had barely risen a thousand feet, when with a shrill
scream a heavy shell hurtled through the air from one of the
invisible warships. From a distance of twelve thousand yards the
9.2-inch missile struck its objective with a precision that was the
result of the work of the highest scientific instruments purposely
constructed for the destruction of mankind and mankind's defences.
Landing fairly upon the cup-shaped summit of the Observation Hill, it
completely transformed the configuration of the landscape. Jagged
scraps of sheet-iron and splintered baulks of timber flew high in the
air, accompanied by a cloud of black smoke and dust. In an instant
the pirates' carefully camouflaged observation post was wiped out,
and with it the principal range-finding station of the secret base.
For the next half-hour the bombardment was hotly maintained. At first
the pirates replied feebly, but by degrees they warmed to their task,
working their 6-inch quick-firers well in spite of the numerous
disadvantages under which they were placed.
One by one the concealed guns on the edge of the cliff were knocked
out by direct hits upon the concrete gun-pits. Occasionally a battery
would cease fire for about ten minutes; then the desperate gunners,
who were fighting with halters round their necks, would re-man their
weapons in the faint hope of "getting one home" on the daring
destroyers which were rapidly approaching the island.
At length the 6-inchers of the secret base ceased to reply. Not a
pirate remained in the emplacements save the dead and dying. The rest
had fled to their deep subterranean retreats, whence by bombs and
machine-gun bullets they still hoped to take a heavy toll of the
invaders.
By ten in the morning the heavy gun-fire had almost died down. The
cruisers had reduced distances to 2500 yards, and were occasionally
firing mainly with the idea of keeping the pirates penned down to
their underground shelters.
A quarter of an hour later the crews of the captured merchantmen, who
were now able to roam at will over the north-western part of the
island, noticed a destroyer negotiating the intricate passage between
the reefs and the northern side of the secret base. She had run the
gauntlet of the light quick-firers commanding the main approach
channel, and had not come off lightly, for the funnels were riddled
in several places, while there was a gaping hole in her hull just
abaft her after torpedo-tube. Although the damage was mainly above
the water-line, her powerful steam-pumps were hard at work.
She was no longer in danger of being under fire, for not a gun could
be brought to bear upon her now that she had rounded the
north-eastern extremity of the island. Moving slowly, and with the
leadsman in the chains continually sounding, she weathered the
north-western end of the island, and, lowering boats, dropped anchor
almost directly abreast of the cave which Burgoyne had found so
helpful during his preparations for flight.
Presently a rocket soared from the destroyer's deck taking with it a
line that fell well beyond the edge of the cliff.
Instantly there was a rush on the part of the merchant seamen, and in
twenty minutes four stout rope ladders afforded communication between
the beach and the top of the cliff.
Up the ladders swarmed bluejackets, armed with rifles and bayonets,
while boxes of smoke bombs, Lewis guns, and ammunition were
dexterously hauled to the summit.
During these operations a second destroyer entered the lagoon and
added her quota to the landing-party. By noon the entire force of
three hundred men, including a draft hastily transhipped from the
_Rockhampton_, was ready to move forward.
One of the observation seaplanes gave a pre-arranged signal to the
cruiser and the bombardment ceased. Simultaneously the landing-party
advanced for a systematic searching of the pirates' subterranean
lairs.
Their method of working was simple and effective. At the entrance to
each dug-out they summoned the inmates to surrender. The invitation
was invariably declined with expressions of rage and defiance until a
smoke bomb was neatly lobbed into the underground retreat. In a very
brief space of time a dozen or more half-suffocated rogues would
appear staggering through the smoke, to be secured and bound almost
without resistance by the burly Australian bluejackets.
Work over, the conquerors settled down to play. Their first effort in
that direction was to provide a sumptuous meal for all hands.
There was fresh meat in plenty, and ample stocks of flour, tea,
sugar, and coffee. The bluejackets, taking possession of the galleys,
soon had enormous fires going. Those not employed as cooks whiled
away the time in playing rounders, football, and leap-frog until a
bugle sounded for tea.
It was a joyous feast. The bluejackets enjoyed it with the zest of
men having successfully accomplished a difficult task; the merchant
seamen, because for the first time for many weeks they were revelling
in the delights of freedom. Their irksome captivity was fast fading
into the limbo of reminiscence. Once more they were at liberty to do
almost as they wished without the ever-present dread of their armed
guards. No longer had they to toil under conditions approaching
slavery at the behest of Ramon Porfirio and his minions.
Although Captain Blair and the remaining officers of the
_Donibristle_ made many inquiries, no one seemed to be able to supply
any information concerning Burgoyne and his companions. None of the
landing-party was aware of the presence of two of the officers of the
scuttled merchantman on board the _Armadale_. All they could say was
that they sailed in execution of sealed orders, but as to what
prompted these orders they were entirely in the dark.
Amongst the hilarious throng there was one man who felt utterly
despondent. Although Colonel Vivian had borne up wonderfully from the
time Hilda had left the island, he was now overcome by the thought
that he had lost both wife and daughter. In the case of the latter he
felt sure that, had she survived, the story of her rescue would have
been known throughout the length and breadth of Australia. He forgot
that the success of the expedition depended upon absolute secrecy,
and from the fact that none of the men from the _Rockhampton_ and the
two destroyers knew anything of the missing life-boat and her crew,
he formed the conclusion that the boat had been overwhelmed by the
furious gale.
After the meal Captain Blair, in the course of conversation with the
officer commanding the landing-parties, asked what steps he proposed
taking with regard to the embarkation of the former captives.
"Sure, I don't know," replied the Commander "The Commodore will have
to settle that point. See, the _Armadale's_ making for the
anchorage."
Slowly, and with just sufficient way to enable her to answer to the
helm, the cruiser, flying the Broad Pennant of the Commodore of the
squadron, approached the deep channel through the reef. Men were in
the chains, heaving the lead, but she came in with a decided
assurance as if her navigating officers were well acquainted with the
intricate passage. Two cables astern came the _Rockhampton_,
followed by a destroyer, while in the rear of the procession steamed
the seaplane carrier, which had already received all the members of
her aerial brood.
Splendidly handled, although the bend in the approach channel was so
acute that the helm had to be supplemented by reverse action of their
twin propellors, the cruisers gained the inner harbour of the secret
base, where they moored with ample room in the spacious land-locked
basin, amidst the cheers of the men lining the lofty cliffs.
Suddenly Phil Branscombe gripped Captain Blair's arm.
"Look, sir!" he exclaimed. "On the after-bridge of the nearest
cruiser. Yes, by Jove! it's old Burgoyne and our wireless merchant.
They're waving to us."
"So they are, by thunder!" almost yelled the excited Old Man. "Lads!
There's Burgoyne and Mostyn. Give them a loud one."
And for once not in accordance with the accepted ideas of British
reserve, the survivors of the _Donibristle_ let themselves go. Their
enthusiasm was caught up by their former comrades in adversity, and
the cliffs echoed and re-echoed to the stentorian cheer.