CHAPTER V

Broken down in Mid-ocean

"It's all right, boys!" came a deep voice. "It's only the Padre fallen out of his bunk again."

The men recognized the voice.

"Good old Padre!" they shouted, and then silence fell upon the crowd. Someone struck a match, and held it so that the feeble glimmer shone upon his face. It was the C.O.

"File out in an orderly manner, lads," he ordered. "Fall in on the upper deck. I'll _follow_ you out. We are not going over the top this time; when we do I'll take good care to _lead_ you."

On the upper deck a bugle rang out shrilly. The seamen, assisted by some troops, who, detailed for duty, had not attended the sing-song, were "standing by" ready to lower away the boats.

Rapidly yet without confusion the mess deck was cleared. The first signs of panic nipped in the bud, the men were now as cool as cucumbers.

"How far is it to the nearest land?" enquired one as he ascended the ladder.

"Less'n half a mile underneath your feet," was the grim answer.

True to his word, the Colonel was the last to leave the mess deck. As he emerged into the open air he remarked to the Chaplain: "My word, Padre, heaven forgive you for that lie, but you saved the situation."

Like most of his comrades, Malcolm Carr was under the impression that he would soon have to swim for it, unless he was one of the lucky ones to get told off to the boats. If anyone had suggested that he was afraid, he would have stoutly repudiated the statement; but he was conscious of a peculiar sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach. To a man not a sailor by profession the knowledge that only a comparatively thin steel plate, and fractured at that, is between him and death by drowning is apt to be decidedly disconcerting. He had voluntarily contracted to risk his life by fighting the Boche, but to be "downed" without the chance of seeing a shot fired in earnest was hardly playing the game.

"Hallo, Malcolm!"

Carr turned his head and peered into the face of his right-hand man. It was Dick Selwyn.

"Hallo, Dick! I didn't recognize your voice. How goes it?"

"So, so!" replied Dick. "Look here, I vote we stick together. Why aren't they lowering the boats? They don't seem in any sort of a hurry."

"Perhaps it is as well. You know----"

Again a bugle rang out. The ranks stiffened.

"Boys!" exclaimed the Colonel; "the Captain has just sent word that there is no immediate danger. There has been a slight explosion in a bunker. One compartment--the for'ard stokehold--is flooded. For the present the men will remain on deck. The cooks will issue a hot ration. Stand at ease!"

Out came pipes and cigarettes. The men began chatting and yarning, discussing the possibilities and chances of the catastrophe. The explosion had been an internal one, sufficient to cripple the vessel's engines. The question naturally arose as to whether it was the work of a Hun agent.

"I'd like to know who the idiot was who yelled out something about being torpedoed," remarked a rifleman.

"I did," owned up the man in question. "What about it?"

"If you were in C Company they'd give you poison," declared the first speaker contemptuously.

"And," retorted the other, "if I were in C Company I'd take it. As for----"

"Stop that!" ordered Sergeant Fortescue; then, turning to Malcolm, he added: "It shows the boys are settling down again. Sort of psychologic phenomenon; I've noticed it before. While there's danger they are as well-behaved as kids in a drawing-room; directly it's over they let themselves go and start treading on each other's corns. Well, here we are, midway between New Zealand and Cape Horn, with our engines broken down. A fine old jamboree!"

"We've wirelessed for assistance, I've been told," observed Malcolm.

"Aye," agreed Fortescue, "and received a reply. No. 101, which left Wellington two days after we did, sends a reassuring message. She's a faster boat, you know. But I might add," he said, lowering his voice, "that we've been warned that the _See Adler_ is somewhere knocking around, and we have to take due precaution. Ah! There you are. They're serving out small-arms and ammunition to C Company."

The situation was a grave one. Lying helpless on the water was Transport 99, unescorted and with no other friendly vessel within ten hours' steaming of her. She was armed with two 4.7 guns both mounted aft. These were of little use against a swift hostile craft should the latter approach on a bearing three degrees on either side of the _Awarua's_ bows. On the other hand there were half a dozen Maxims and nearly two thousand rifles on board, although these would be of little use if the raider kept beyond 200 yards' range.

Against an armed and mobile vessel the _See Adler_ would stand but little chance. She was a sailing craft provided with a powerful motor installation. Earlier in the year she had caused a certain amount of sensation by her depredations in the Atlantic, until British cruisers made that locality too hot for her. She vanished mysteriously. There were vague rumours that she had been sent to the bottom by one of the Allied warships. It was now evident that she had rounded the Horn, making use of her sails only and keeping her motors for cases of emergency, and at the present was within a few miles of the transport _Awarua_.

Throughout the rest of the night the transport's crew manned the two stern-chasers. The Maxims, protected by coal-sacks and mealie-bags, were kept ready for instant action, while each company took duty in turn to man the side, ready to supplement the machine- and quick-firing guns with a fusillade of small arms.

Daybreak came, but with it no signs of the expected raider. Viewed from the deck, the _Awarua_ showed no trace of the explosion beyond a slight list to starboard. The steam had been raised from the auxiliary engines, and the pumps were continuously ejecting water that made its way from the flooded stokehold to the adjoining compartments. The ship's artificers were busily engaged in repairing the fractured main steam-pipe. It was just possible that the vessel might be able to proceed under her own steam, either back to Wellington or else to Port Stanley, in the Falkland Islands. Meanwhile there was no line of churned water extending from under the vessel's quarter as far as the eye could reach, no dull reverberations of the "screw". The _Awarua_, lying helpless, rolled sullenly in the swell at the mercy of wind and ocean current.

Meanwhile the troops were kept fully occupied. Ennui was at all costs to be banished, and the best antidote for that was plenty of hard work. Parades, boat drill, physical exercises, almost filled the bill; but even then there were plenty of enthusiasts to take part in strenuous games on deck, in which the C.O. and most of the officers took a personal interest and prominent part.

Just before sunset a blurr of smoke was detected on the horizon. Transport 101 was arriving upon the scene. Two hours later, in the starry night, the new arrival came within hailing distance, and preparations were made to take the _Awarua_ in tow.

By midnight Transport 99 was moving slowly through the water in the wake of the towing vessel, three hearty cheers from the boys showing their relief at the thought that the tedious period of immobility was at an end. The repairs to the steam-pipe were almost completed, and with reasonable luck the _Awarua_ might be able to proceed under her own steam before daybreak.

At réveillé Malcolm Carr heard the welcome thud of the propeller. Going on deck, he found that Transport 101 was hull down to the west'ard, while a couple of cable-lengths on the _Awarua's_ star-board quarter was a long grey cruiser flying the White Ensign.

Just then one of the crew came aft. Malcolm knew him by sight. He was a loquacious Welsh-man, always "in the know", and one of the recognized media between the ship's officers and the rank and file.

"Hallo, Sergeant!" he exclaimed, jerking his thumb in the direction of the cruiser. "How's that, eh? Sorter objec' lesson on the great silent navy I'll allow. She's our escort as far as the Falklands."

"She's turned up at just the right moment," remarked Malcolm.

"She's what?" enquired the seaman. "My eye, you don't know nuffink, Sergeant. She's been hoppin' about us for the last three days. I 'eard our Old Man tell the First Officer so. Got our wireless, but wouldn't reply."

"Why not?" asked Carr curiously.

"'Cause she was waitin' to mop up that _See Adler_. Kept out of sight, hoping, in a manner o' speaking, that the Dutchy would have a smack at us, and then she'd butt in. Howsomever, they say as a jap cruiser 'as got the hang of the 'Un, an' you chaps 'ave been done out of a visit to Davy Jones this time."