Osborne's Capture
WITH assistance Dicky Haynes contrived to carry his brother Sub to
the diminutive cabin, where three badly wounded men had already been
placed in comparative shelter. More for his chum, Dicky Haynes was
unable to do for the present. His duty required him to be on deck to
assist the already hard-worked Osborne.
The bow gun was still firing. Not that any of the enemy were visible,
but merely to let them know that sections of the cliffs in the
vicinity of the steamboat were decidedly "unhealthy". The Turkish
infantry had suffered fairly heavily when they appeared above the
crest, and the renewed fire from the steam cutter was sufficient to
keep them at a discreet distance.
"Easy astern!" ordered the Lieutenant. "One of you nip below and see
if she's strained."
A seaman disappeared down the hatchway of the fore-cabin, quickly
reappearing with the disconcerting news that there was water on the
floorboards.
"A couple of hands to try and locate the leak," continued Osborne.
Then grasping the flexible voice-tube he gave the leading stoker
instructions to couple up the steam bilge-pump.
Having drawn clear of the boom, and left the pulling cutter and the
whaler to their fate, the steamboat forged ahead, and put a safe
distance betwixt her and the trap that had all but proved fatal to
the unfortunate landing party.
The result of running ahead was to increase the rush of water through
the holed plank, which, located close to the bulkhead at the fore-end
of the stokehold, was awkward to get at. Moreover, a hole in a
diagonal-planked craft is specially difficult to repair, even in a
temporary fashion. In spite of the action of the powerful pumps the
water was gaining, although the transverse bulkhead kept the
engine-room from being flooded. Yet the danger of the boat foundering
had to be faced.
With fire-tinged smoke pouring from her funnels the cutter continued
her retreat. As long as she kept on a certain bearing, she was masked
by the cliffs from the search-light and the direct fire of the
Turkish quick-firers yet Osborne knew that by so doing he was running
a risk of piling the little craft upon one of the numerous ledges of
rock that jutted out from the shore.
"Vessel dead ahead, sir," reported the look-out man.
A couple of hundred yards away and right athwart the steamboat's
course was a long, low-lying craft, apparently hove-to. She showed no
lights, nor had she attempted to hail the approaching British boat.
To pass her to starboard meant almost certain disaster upon the
rocks; to alter helm to pass her to port would result in the
steamboat entering the field of the search-lights, and consequently
make her an easy target for the hostile guns.
"Stand by, there!" exclaimed Osborne. "Let her have it directly I
give the word. Steady on your helm, coxswain. Keep her at that."
For a few seconds Lieutenant Osborne kept his glasses focused on the
mysterious craft. Was she a Turkish patrol-boat intent upon cutting
off the steam cutter's retreat, or one of the British motor craft
sent to assist the landing party?
Suddenly the Lieutenant gave a chuckle of delight.
"It's our old friend the Turkish torpedo-boat," he remarked to
Haynes. "We gave her what-ho! on our way to pick you up. Her crew
jumped overboard and swam for it."
One thing still puzzled him. The torpedo-boat, when abandoned by her
panic-stricken crew, was a couple of miles farther to the south-west.
Now, although apparently without way, she had almost grounded on the
north-eastern shore of the extensive bay.
"Can't be the current," mused Osborne. "That sets southerly from the
Dardanelles. Perhaps it's a counter-current, though."
The latter theory was correct. A strong run of water, deflected from
the opposite side of the bay, had set the derelict in a totally
different direction from the one Osborne had imagined.
"We'll have her, old man," he exclaimed to Haynes. "It will be
something to make up for the rotten business. Stand by, bowmen. Out
fenders!"
With hardly the faintest bump, for there was no sea on, the steam
cutter was brought alongside the abandoned Turkish craft. Although
badly damaged about the upper works and hulled several times above
the water-line, the latter was still "as tight as a bottle". A couple
of hands were placed on board to take the helm, and the cutter,
lashed alongside fore and aft, began to gather way. Gradually speed
worked up to five knots, as the little captor and her comparatively
large prize drew away from the dangerous shore.
Osborne realized that he was not yet "out of the wood". Ahead was a
stretch of brilliantly illuminated water, where the search-lights,
playing above and over the cliffs, were able to throw direct rays
upon the sea. Yet, as the steamboat and her prize entered the light,
the Turks refrained from reopening fire. They had spotted the
captured torpedo-boat; the steam cutter lashed alongside was hidden
from their view by the greater bulk of her capture. They recognized
the former as a unit of the Ottoman Navy. She was known to be
attempting a run from the Dardanelles to Smyrna; and yet there could
only be one reason why she should be proceeding in a westerly
direction.
When at length the Turks realized that the torpedo-boat was a prize,
they brought every available gun to bear upon her. For several
minutes the water all around was churned into columns of foam.
Several fragments of shell struck the prize. The steamboat, snugly
sheltered under her lee, escaped without further damage. Foiled in
their endeavour, the enemy reluctantly ceased fire.
As soon as they were out of range the boat's crew were able to devote
themselves to their wounded comrades. For the first time that night a
lamp was lighted in the after-cabin.
Tom Webb had recovered consciousness when, having left Haynes in
charge, Lieutenant Osborne went below to see how his brother officer
and close companion fared.
The Sub's injuries consisted of a painful, though not dangerous,
flesh wound in the muscles of the right leg--a nasty laceration
caused by one of the sharp spikes of the boom. Webb, in his desperate
work, had not noticed the wound until he had attempted to climb over
the side of the steamboat. In addition he had a contused wound on the
top of his head, although he had no idea of how or when the injury
was received.
"I always was noted for my thick skull, Osborne," he remarked, with a
rather sorry endeavour to follow out the Scout's maxim of "Keep
smiling". "But I'm sorry for what has happened."
"It wasn't your fault, or anyone's, as far as I can make out," said
the Lieutenant. "We were had properly. These things are bound to
occur in war-time. It's lucky it's no worse."
"Rather humiliating, though," continued Webb. "Getting in a proper
rat-trap without the chance of firing a shot."
"We fired many a round, only you know nothing about it," announced
Osborne. "We were quite hotly engaged----"
"What's that noise I hear?" interrupted the injured officer, as a
grinding, rasping sound penetrated into the cabin.
"Oh, that? Nothing much," replied Osborne modestly. "We've a prize
lashed alongside--a Turkish torpedo-boat. She got in our way after
the boats had cast off, and we winged her. Later on we fell in with
her again, and finding her abandoned but seaworthy, we took
possession of her. So you see, Tom, it hasn't been altogether a
fruitless expedition. We've lost the pulling cutter and the whaler,
and collared a torpedo-boat in exchange."
"Good business!" exclaimed Webb. "I'd like to cheer, Osborne, only my
throat's burning; and I can't grin my appreciation; the bump on my
head has stretched my cheeks so tightly that if I did I really
believe I'd crack the skin. You know----"
"Destroyer bearing down on the starboard bow, sir," reported Haynes
in his best professional manner.
Osborne hurried from the cabin. Feeble though the lamplight was, it
was sufficient to dazzle his eyes and render him incapable of seeing
anything distinctly.
"Bring a signalling lamp with you," he ordered, at the same time
making a leap for the torpedo-boat's deck.
Out of the darkness flashed the destroyer's search-light full upon
the prize. It was a nerve-racking ordeal, for the oncoming craft,
recognizing the torpedo-boat as a Turkish vessel, would perhaps start
blazing away without further ado.
Promptly the steamboat's signalman made her private number. The
destroyer acknowledged, and the danger was at an end. Circling and
easing down, the British war-ship approached within hailing distance.
"_Portchester Castle's_ steamboat and prize, eh?" shouted her
Lieutenant-commander. "You're lucky to have collared their
torpedo-boat. We've been on the look-out for her the last week. Can
we render any assistance?"
Osborne considered. It was still a long way back to the _Portchester
Castle_. Already the wind was rising, and the sea, hitherto calm,
promised to become at least choppy before very long.
"Will you relieve us of our prize?" he asked.
"Certainly," was the reply. "We'll tow her into Lemnos."
Admirably manoeuvred, the destroyer came close enough to enable a
line to be thrown to the prize's fore-deck. To the line was attached
a stout wire hawser, the end of which was made fast to the
torpedo-boat's for'ard bollard. Half a dozen sailors from the
destroyer boarded and took possession of the capture, while Osborne
and his men returned to the steamboat. The lashings securing the
latter alongside the prize were then cast off, and in less than ten
minutes the destroyer and her tow were swallowed up in the darkness.
"That's a load off my mind," soliloquized Osborne, as speed was
increased to fifteen knots. By this time the leak had been
temporarily plugged, the water that had made its way into the
fore-cabin had been ejected, and there was every chance of the
steamboat making a quick run back to her parent ship.
"Where be the dawg, sir?" enquired one of the steamboat's crew. "I
can't see 'im nowheres aboard."
"Laddie!" exclaimed the Lieutenant. "Where are you? Come here, old
boy."
There was no response. In ordinary circumstances Laddie would be
within a paw's length of his master. Even though the animal might be
sulking after the Lieutenant's admonition (and the dog was not given
to sulking), the mere utterance of his name would bring him bounding
to his master in an ecstasy of delight.
"Anyone seen Laddie recently?" sang out the Lieutenant, addressing
the men up for'ard.
"I saw him a-followin' you when you got aboard that tawpeda-boat,
sir," declared a young able-seaman. "He were close on your heels when
you jumped, sir."
"Have a look down below," continued Osborne anxiously.
A search of the fore-cabin produced no desired result. In the
diminutive engine-room, the leading stoker examined every nook and
cranny of the compartment housing that box of tricks of intricate
machinery. Reluctantly Osborne came to the conclusion that his pet
was missing. The able-seaman, questioned further, was firm in his
belief that he had seen Laddie following his master, but he could not
say whether the animal actually boarded the prize. Nor could any of
the other men express a definite opinion on that point.
It was just possible that the dog might have missed his footing, and
have fallen between the steamboat and her capture. Failing being
crushed between the two craft he might have fallen into the sea, and,
unnoticed in the bustle, had been lost in the darkness.
Two hours later the steamboat--the sole survivor of the three boats
that had left the ship--ran alongside the _Portchester Castle_.
"By Jove, Osborne!" exclaimed Captain M'Bride, who in his anxiety had
remained all night on deck. "What has happened?"
"They were properly on the alert, sir," replied the Lieutenant. "We
were trapped, and were unable to accomplish our mission. However, we
fell in with a Turkish torpedo-boat, engaged her, and compelled the
crew to abandon ship. On the return run we again fell in with the
torpedo-boat, took possession, and towed her until relieved by one of
our destroyers."
"That evens things up a bit," remarked the skipper. "And the cutter
and the whaler?"
"Had to be abandoned, sir. They found themselves on the wrong side of
a boom."
"And our casualties?"
"Mr. Webb wounded, Mr. Haynes wounded slightly. Five men killed and
nine wounded, and----"
"And----?" repeated Captain M'Bride.
"Laddie missing, sir," continued Osborne.