The following afternoon a cloud of smoke appeared on the horizon. At
closer quarters, we recognized a fast steamer, provided with wireless,
but without high superstructures. We therefore jumped to the conclusion
that the vessel was an important cargo-boat.
It was already quite dark when we overtook her, and I made use of the
Morse lamp to ask for her name. Her answer came promptly: "First tell
us yours."
One name is as good as another, so I deemed it advisable to usurp that
of the sunk steamer _Author_.
After some hesitation, the stranger signalled with the Morse lamp:
"_Clan McTavish_."
Delighted to be again dealing with an "Engländer," I ordered, without
losing a second:
"Clear for battle to starboard."
The guns took aim, and I shouted:
"This is a German cruiser. Stop at once!"
"We have stopped," came the answer, but, though four hundred yards
divided us, we heard them working with all their might to set their
ship in motion. I fired a shot, whereupon I was told that the enemy
vessel was using her wireless.
Without wasting another second, I gave the order to aim at the
wireless, and the first shell silenced it. Almost immediately, a streak
of light pierced the darkness and something hissed over our heads. At
first I thought I had made a mistake, but as a shell dropped into the
water quite close to the _Moewe_, there could be no doubt that the
Engländer intended to put up a fight.
We opened fire, and shot after shot rang out. But the Engländer was
tenacious. Her shots answered ours--strangely enough, without once
hitting us. That seemed to exasperate her only the more, and thick
smoke enveloped us. Then, suddenly, the enemy ship slowed down and she
signalled:
"We have stopped completely."
Soon we were able to ascertain the damage caused by our firing.
Afterwards, the captain told us that our first shell had killed a
Lascar. The second shell went through the cabin of the second officer,
creating havoc in that part of the ship. The third shot hit the
captain's bridge. Other shells killed seventeen Lascars and wounded
five. A shell having hit the water-line and another the engines, the
captain had at last given up further useless opposition.
While the prize-crew went on board, I summoned the _Appam_ to help us.
She had watched the fight from a distance, and it is easy to imagine
with what feelings.
The _Clan McTavish_, five thousand eight hundred and sixteen tons, was
bringing a considerable cargo of wool, leather, skins, and india-rubber
from Australia, worth about ten million marks. How splendid if we could
have taken all that wealth home with us! Unfortunately, we had damaged
the engines of the _Clan McTavish_ beyond repair. All thought of the
cargo had therefore to be abandoned, especially as we were in a hurry
to get away--pursued, as usual, by the fear of a possible surprise.
So, two hours later, the _Clan McTavish_ disappeared into the deep sea,
and, once more, we feasted our eyes on the rare and suggestive sight of
a sinking ship, rendered even more attractive by a brilliant tropical
moonlight night.
Her crew consisted chiefly of Indians, who meanwhile had been
transferred to the _Moewe_.
One of our shells had hit a boat and killed fifteen poor fellows. Three
men, severely wounded, who had been rescued from the water by the
_Appam_, died during the night.
When the captain reported himself to me, I took him severely to task
and pointed out to him that, by ignoring my orders and entering into
a useless battle with us, he had unnecessarily caused the death of
eighteen men.
By way of excuse, he replied that he had no idea that our boat was a
man-of-war; he had taken the _Moewe_ to be an armed merchantman, and
thought his and our chances were about equal. Moreover, he declared
himself free of all responsibility in the matter; his orders had been
to bring his ship to England. To that end he was provided with a gun,
and it was his duty to make use of it when the occasion arose.
Frankly, I liked the loyalty with which this old Scotch sea-bear
defended his case. I shook hands with him and admitted that, most
probably, in his place, I would have acted exactly in the same way.
Still in company with the _Appam_, after the sinking of the _Clan
McTavish_, we proceeded westwards. At last, however, there came the
day when I thought it was opportune to part from Lieutenant Berg. He
was instructed to make for a port in the U.S.A., and I entrusted to
his care the civilian passengers of the seven ships we had sunk up to
now. Naturally, I would have preferred to leave them in safe custody in
Germany, but the situation precluded this altogether.
Our primary object being to sink more ships, we needed all our
available space for future guests. So we only retained on board the
three officers belonging to the English Army, twenty man-of-war sailors
and marines, the crew of the _Clan McTavish_, and a hundred Indians.
Before parting with them, I once more summoned the captains of the
seven captured boats and impressed upon them that it was their absolute
duty to preserve peace and order on the _Appam_. They replied by
assuring me emphatically that the German commander would be obeyed as
strictly as they themselves had been.
Thus reassured, I let them go, yet it was not without misgivings that
I watched the _Appam_ disappear below the horizon. And, truly, it was
no trifle to bring the boat safely through the lines of the British
cruisers in the Atlantic, to the coast of the United States. Yet I knew
full well that Lieutenant Berg, like all the officers of our merchant
navy, was a master of his craft, able to handle the most difficult
situation. We learned with great satisfaction about a month later,
through a wireless message, that the _Appam_ had reached Newport News
exactly at the appointed time, without any undue complications.
The secret of the _Moewe_ had been preserved!
Among our guests on board, the Indians were undoubtedly the most
interesting. Picturesque to a degree, not only by their brightly
colored attire, but even by their demeanor, which possessed a rare
dignity, their presence was very welcome to me on board my ship. Yet,
naturally, I did not retain them solely for these æsthetic reasons, but
because I knew they could be very useful. In the neighborhood of the
Tropics there reigns an intolerable heat, with intermittent downpours,
and in the interior of the ship the temperature exceeds the limits of
endurance. In such conditions Indians are invaluable.
We employed them principally as coal-heavers, for it was impossible to
use them in any other regular capacity, as they only worked willingly
when their customs and religious ceremonies are not interfered with.
Punctuality in meals was an equally important point with them; in the
middle of their work they would throw down everything and start cooking
their mutton and rice, or rice and mutton. No other food seemed to
exist for them, and our European fare they appeared to regard with
loathing. Sarang, the oldest among them, told me that, so long as they
had rice, they were willing to do any work; but if rice failed them,
they would all die, without the slightest resistance. In consequence,
every ship we captured after this was thoroughly searched for rice
before it was sunk. Unfortunately, we never found much of it, so that
the rations of the poor Indians grew more and more meagre. Yet, I am
glad to say, Sarang's sombre prophecy was not realized; every one of
the Indians survived this skimpy diet. Their good will was invariable,
no matter what they were told to do. Our crew was now less numerous,
as a good number of men had been taken away to form two prize crews,
and the work was pretty hard, the cleaning of the ship and the upkeep
of the war material being no small matter, and the Indians' help was
invaluable.