CHAPTER XVI

The Disaster to the _Myra_

Arriving at the entrance to the Mohoro River the _Myra_ made no attempt to recross the inner bar. Nor did she anchor, contenting herself with merely steaming ahead against the flood-tide at a slow speed that kept her stationary with the shore.

Just before high water the _Pelikan_ hove in sight from behind a projecting tongue of land. She still retained her garb of palm trees. The subs noticed that she had a decided list to starboard. This, however, was not due to a leak but to the fact that her cargo had been trimmed so as to throw her on her bilge and thus lighten her draught.

Slowly she approached the bar, and promptly took ground. Gripped by the strong tide the stern portion swung round, throwing her almost broadside athwart the river.

Great was the confusion on board. Half a dozen officers were shouting simultaneously; men were rushing hither and thither, with no apparent object, while with her engines reversed, her propellers were throwing huge columns of mud and water.

Before the officers realized the danger the starboard propeller had shed its blades owing to their coming into contact with the bottom, while the port propeller was stopped after two blades had been badly buckled.

Cautiously the lighter-draughted _Myra_ was backed astern until a couple of stout hawsers were passed to her from the stranded vessel.

Three times the tramp endeavoured without success to tow off the _Pelikan_, but on each occasion the hawsers snapped. By this time it was close on high water.

Meanwhile the raider's crew were working like men possessed, throwing overboard heavy gear that Kapitan von Riesser would have given thousands of marks to retain. Military stores of the utmost importance had to be ruthlessly sacrificed, unless the _Pelikan_ was to remain a target for the guns of the British cruisers which were even now supposed to be on their way from Zanzibar.

On the fourth occasion a hawser was sent off to the _Myra_, while in addition the pinnace was towed into midstream with a large anchor slung underneath her keel.

The anchor having been dropped, the cable was led to the _Pelikan's_ steam capstan. Directly the chain took the strain the _Myra_ began to tow, with the result that the luckless raider scraped heavily across the bar into deep water.

Kapitan von Riesser was delighted, in spite of the loss of stores and gear. The damaged propellers mattered little, since the _Pelikan_ would never again attempt to put to sea. The _Myra_ could tow her up the Mohoro River until she was out of range of the British cruisers' guns, and from that point the reinforcements for the German Field Force could proceed to the Rhodesian border and attempt to check General Smut's advance.

Amongst the troops was Major von Eckenstein, who had been discovered lying unconscious at the foot of the cliffs. He was badly battered about the face, and severely hurt internally. When he came to he was quite unable to account for his injuries. It was quite evident that from a combatant point of view the arrogant major was out of the running.

As soon as the _Pelikan_ was in comparative safety the German troops were re-embarked. The quick-firers which had been landed, and which had served so good a purpose in repelling the British destroyers, were brought round by steamboats and again hoisted on board the _Pelikan_.

This done the _Myra_ took her big consort in tow, and against the now strong ebb-tide slowly crawled up the turgid river.

Before the tidal stream had turned the two vessels had passed the spot where the tramp had anchored on the previous night. Without stopping they proceeded up-stream, the _Pelikan_ keeping well under control by means of her rudder and a supplementary steering device consisting of a long spar towed astern to prevent the ship from yawing.

"By Jove! there's trouble ahead," observed Denbigh, pointing to a sharp bend in the river about a mile ahead. Here the tidal portion of the stream extended nearly 500 yards from bank to bank, while the actual channel was a bare fifth of that distance. On the starboard hand ran a long tongue of mud, round which the stream swept with great violence.

By this time a strong breeze had sprung up, blowing athwart the channel. The absence of trees close to the bank increased the difficulty, for there was no protection from the wind as it swept against the lofty side of the slowly-moving _Pelikan_.

Already the raider's semaphore was signalling to the _Myra_ to cast off and anchor until the tide slackened.

With a grim smile on his face Armstrong winked solemnly at the subs. He said not a word, for several of the German seamen were standing by.

"Let go!" ordered Unter-leutnant Klick, directly he saw that the _Pelikan_ had dropped her anchor.

Promptly the British seaman stationed at the compressor obeyed. The bower anchor fell with a sullen splash. Fathom after fathom of chain roared through the hawse-pipe.

Klick raised his hand as a signal for the cable to be checked. The _Myra_ was still making sternway and showed no decided tendency to bring up. Another fifty fathoms of chain were paid out. Still the tramp dropped astern. She was now within half a cable's length of the _Pelikan_, which to prevent herself being in collision was obliged to veer out her cable.

"The anchor's not holding, sir!" shouted the German petty officer in charge of the fo'c'sle party.

"Then let go a second anchor," yelled Klick excitedly. "Make them look sharp, or we'll be foul of the _Pelikan_."

The unter-leutnant had no cause to complain of the lack of energy on the part of the prisoners. With the utmost dispatch the second anchor was let go. Before twenty fathoms, which alone ought to be sufficient to bring the _Myra_ to a standstill, were paid out the whole of the cable of the first anchor had been made use of.

Suddenly a sullen roar was heard coming from down-stream. The Mohoro River at certain intervals, especially at extraordinary spring-tides, is subject to a bore. The bore is very erratic. Sometimes it is very much in evidence, at other times it is hardly perceptible; but there was no doubt that now it was of unusual magnitude.

Nearer and nearer came the wall of solid water, maintaining an unbroken wave towards the centre of the river. Close to the banks it broke heavily.

"Go full speed ahead or we'll be into you!" shouted Kapitan von Riesser frantically.

The _Myra's_ engine-room telegraph clanged. Either by accident or design the British engineers were slow in replying. The tramp was only just forging ahead when the bore swept under the _Pelikan's_ counter.

Round swept the raider, her stern just missing the _Myra's_ taffrail. Fortunately her cables held, but not so the tramp.

With her engines going ahead and held tightly by the scope of her anchor-chain--for the anchors themselves, thanks to their dummy forelocks, were useless--the tramp headed uncontrollably towards the port-hand bank. In the midst of the tumult of water as the bore broke over her she struck and struck heavily.

In an instant the doomed vessel fell over on her beam-ends. With an appalling crash her funnels and masts went by the board. So sudden was the catastrophe that a dozen German seamen were trapped down below. Only by the narrowest margin did the British engine-room staff make their escape.

Of what occurred during the next few moments neither Denbigh nor O'Hara had any clear recollection. They found themselves standing on the side of the vessel. Captain Pennington, Armstrong, and Unter-leutnant Klick were there, too. Up for'ard the British seamen and half a dozen of the German prize crew were scrambling along the upturned sides, which were by this time barely three feet above the surface of the raging stream.

It was evident that the survivors had found only a very temporary place of refuge. The force of the current sweeping past the ship was wearing out a deep hole in the bed of the river, into which the _Myra_ was slowly subsiding. To attempt to escape by swimming was almost an impossibility, as the water surged and eddied past, forming a dangerous whirlpool close to the stern of the vessel.

"By Jove!" exclaimed Armstrong. "This is a proper wash-out. We've done the trick properly this time."

"Yes, it's more than we bargained for," added the Irishman. "I would never have believed that a craft of this size would be swallowed up so quickly."

Meanwhile Denbigh could not help noticing the marked difference in the demeanour of the British and German seamen, who by this time were up to their knees in water, and were soon, unless help were forthcoming, to be swept off their feet by the rush of the flood-tide.

The Huns were shouting dolorously for aid; the _Myra's_ men were either stoically silent or else inclined to indulge in grim jests at the expense of the bellowing Teutons.

Denbigh looked in the direction of the _Pelikan_. The crew were engaged in lowering boats, and taking an extraordinarily long time about it, owing to the pronounced list of the raider and also to the fact that her decks were encumbered with her disguise of vegetation.

Unter-leutnant Klick was trembling violently. He, of all the officers taking refuge on the side of the tramp, had managed to procure a life-belt. Even the contemptuous glances of the _Myra's_ skipper failed to shame him.

Presently the first of the _Pelikan's_ boats came tearing up-stream. It required all the strength of the oarsmen to check her way. An ironical cheer from the British seamen greeted her arrival.

"Women and children first!" they yelled derisively as the unter-leutnant and the surviving German seamen made a frantic rush for the boat.

Two of the Huns jumped short. Although good swimmers they were swirled away like pieces of straw, until, drawn into the vortex of the whirlpool, they disappeared.

The second boat, backing towards the deadly whirlpool, awaited the men's reappearance, but in vain. Then, attempting to run alongside the wreck, the frail craft bumped heavily upon a submerged part of the vessel and stove in a couple of planks. While two of the crew began to bale, the boat was swept several hundred yards up the river, for the remaining rowers were helpless against the flood.

Meanwhile the first boat, having rescued the unter-leutnant and the surviving German seamen, began to approach the wreck again; until Klick, in an agony of terror lest she, too, would meet with disaster, ordered the men to push off.

A third boat--a whaler--came upon the scene. Acting with great caution her coxswain brought her alongside and motioned to Denbigh and his companions to leap.

"Those men first," cried Captain Pennington, pointing to those of his crew who were still maintaining a precarious hold.

The coxswain understood and allowed his boat to drift down upon the handful of seamen. Coolly the British crew scrambled into safety, and the whaler, urged under the powerful strokes of the oarsmen, began to make her way aft.

Suddenly the almost submerged part on which Denbigh and his companions were standing gave a sickening shudder and disappeared beneath the surface. A swirl of water, surging with irresistible force, swept the four officers off their feet.

The next instant Denbigh found himself struggling for dear life in the foaming yellow water of Mohoro River. In spite of his peril, he could not help contrasting his involuntary bath with that of the previous night. Then the water was warm, tranquil, and evil-smelling. Unseen dangers assailed him on every hand. Now the same river was nothing less than a broiling cauldron.

With almost superhuman strength Denbigh struck out. Already he was within the influence of the deadly whirlpool. Spinning round and round he kept his face from the vortex, striving, but in vain, to overcome the suction of the gigantic eddy.

He could see no signs of his companions. Either they had already disappeared, or else they had been thrown beyond the range of the inverted cone that marked the position of the whirlpool.

Even in danger of imminent death, the sub recalled an incident in the Clarence Victualling Yard, several years ago. He had been taken by his father to see the process of manufacturing ships' biscuits. In one building he saw flour sliding down an inclined plane into a mixing machine. Mingled with the flour were several large maggots, that gave the name to the creek that forms the approach by water to the Victualling Yard. Finding themselves disturbed, the insects tried to wriggle back, but in vain. Down they slid till caught in the mixer, finally to form part of the ingredients of ship's biscuits.

"And I'm almost in the same boat as those weevils," thought Denbigh grimly, as he completed a circle for the twentieth time.

He was nearing the vortex. The spiral motion became quicker. An irresistible force was dragging him down.

Suddenly Denbigh threw up his arms. He was physically played out. Like an arrow he shot into the pit in the centre of that mass of whirling water. The blaze of the African sun gave place to intense darkness. He held his breath, until his lungs seemed to be on the point of bursting.

As rapidly as he had gone down the sub was shot to the surface. Again he was within the range of the whirlpool, for its centre, instead of being stationary, was moving in an ellipse.

Unable even to struggle, Denbigh was again sucked down. This time, incapable of holding his breath, he swallowed a quantity of water. The pressure on his chest was excruciating. Then torture gave place to a strange calmness. On an instant, recollections of practically the whole of his past life flashed across his mind. The mental pictures faded away and all became blank.