CHAPTER XVII

A Bid for Freedom

When Denbigh opened his eyes he found himself in the now familiar cabin on board the _Pelikan_. There were several people in the limited space. He did not feel any interest in them. They irritated him. He wanted to sleep.

Gradually it dawned upon him that he had a narrow escape. Then he remembered that O'Hara was with him when he was swept off the side of the _Myra_.

"You there, Pat?" he asked, half afraid to put the question in case his chum was gone.

"Sure," replied a deep voice from the opposite bunk.

Denbigh attempted to sit up. He felt horribly sick. His head was whirling. It reminded him very forcibly and unpleasantly of his spiral flight around the vortex of the whirlpool.

"Lie still, Mr. Denbigh," said Captain Pennington. "You'll be fit all in good time."

"All right," agreed the sub. He was not in a fit state to do otherwise. "Where is the _Pelikan_ now?"

The skipper of the _Myra_ lowered his voice.

"Properly trapped. She cannot go another fifty yards up the river. We've spoilt her little game."

"Good business," murmured Denbigh, and turning on his side he fell asleep.

His escape was little short of miraculous. It was owing to the fact that he wore his solar topee fastened by a strong "chin-stay". The air-space between the double thickness of the sun-helmet possessed sufficient buoyancy to bring him to the surface, after being twice taken down by the whirlpool.

A few minutes previous to the disaster, the bore had exhausted itself at a point ten miles up the river, and the "rebound" had made itself felt just at the time when Denbigh made his second involuntary dive. The sudden slackening of the full force of the flood-tide had caused the whirlpool to cease, with the result that the sub floated unconscious on the surface of the river, when he was picked up by the _Pelikan's_ whaler. O'Hara, Captain Pennington, and Armstrong had been more fortunate, for they had been swept clear of the influence of the eddy.

The result of Armstrong's plot had rather exceeded his expectations. The _Myra_ lay athwart the channel, with less than twelve feet of water over her at high tide. Until the Mohoro River cut itself a new bed round the submerged wreck--which might take twenty-four hours or as many days--the _Pelikan_ would be unable to proceed. Even if the obstruction did not exist, the raider was unable to proceed owing to the loss of her propeller blades.

The whole of the stores removed from the _Pelikan_ to the _Myra_, as well as those originally in the tramp's holds, were hopelessly lost, including the bulk of the ammunition and arms intended for the German colonial troops. There were several hundred reservists still on board, with no facilities for their transfer up-country. Even had there been boats available for them all, the voyage up the Mohoro was fraught with danger.

On the other hand, to remain in the _Pelikan_ was to court disease and famine, even should the raider escape detection by the British cruisers.

Kapitan von Riesser's position was far from enviable. He soundly rated Unter-leutnant Klick, who in turn tried to shift the blame upon the British sailors for their dilatoriness in letting go the anchors. Von Riesser had seen with his own eyes that the anchors had been let go promptly. He could not, therefore, accuse the _Myra's_ original crew of conspiracy, since he had no evidence. The prospect of capture, too, made him treat the prisoners with far more consideration than he would have done had his position been a secure one.

The kapitan of the _Pelikan_ was not, however, going to "knuckle under" without another effort. For the next three days all hands were kept hard at work, in spite of the blazing sunshine by day and the miasmic mists by night.

The guns previously landed on the shores of the lagoon and afterwards taken on board again were once more sent ashore, and placed in position so as to command a wide stretch of river. The _Pelikan_, being now moored fore and aft, had the remaining quick-firers mounted at the stern, so as to cooperate with the shore batteries in sweeping the approach by water.

Two miles down-stream a steel-studded cable was thrown across from bank to bank, and supported by barrels lashed in pairs at frequent intervals. The obstruction ought to prevent the dash by armed steamboats, even if unable to withstand the headlong charge of a destroyer.

The most formidable objects of defence were the two torpedo-tubes, which were removed from the ship and placed in position on shore four hundred yards below the chain boom. To enable the torpedoes to be fired, light piers were thrown out from the banks into twelve feet of water, the structure being hidden by boughs of trees and clumps of reeds. On the high ground at the back of the torpedo station searchlights were mounted. These were not to be used as a precautionary measure, but only to be switched on when an attack was visibly imminent. Von Riesser's principal aim was to remain hidden. If his retreat were discovered then he would put up a fight, and failing to win would surrender with a good conscience.

Long before the three days had elapsed Denbigh had quite recovered from the effects of his prolonged immersion. He had, with the rest of the captured British officers, little opportunity of finding out the actual steps that were being taken for defence. They knew that work was in progress, but during the removal of the torpedo-tubes and guns they had been sent below.

One discovery Denbigh made, and that was through overhearing a chance conversation between two German petty officers. It also accounted for the seemingly purposeless reluctance to confine the prisoners in the hold instead of attempting to chloroform them in their cabin.

The _Pelikan_ was double-skinned, but the space between the double bottoms was far greater than is usual in marine construction. It had practically two hulls, one within the other, and in the intervening space were stowed quantities of warlike stores.

When the _Pelikan_ had been boarded by a British patrol officer the deception escaped detection. Apparently the _Zwaan_ was a harmless Dutch liner. The sub-lieutenant who acted as boarding-officer was not sufficiently versed in the ways of the wily Teuton. An examination of the hold revealed nothing suspicious, and the vessel was accordingly released.

Unfortunately for the Germans their plans had gone awry, for on grounding on the outer bar the ship had strained several of her plates, with the result that the space between the inner and the outer skin was flooded. Not only were the stores spoilt, but, in order to lighten her draught in addition to compensating for lost buoyancy, cargo more than equivalent to that flooded had to be jettisoned.

Having landed the quick-firers and torpedo-tubes, the crew of the _Pelikan_ proceeded to increase the disguise of the ship. She was now a regular floating palm forest. So thick was the foliage brought on board and secured to the masts and upper works that sun-awnings were unnecessary. Even an observer in a seaplane, unless he were prepared for such a disguise, would fail to distinguish the raider in her garb of verdure.

"How do you feel for another jaunt ashore?" asked Denbigh.

"I can't say I am particularly keen on another swim," replied O'Hara. "Otherwise I've no objection to studying the fauna and flora of this delectable land. But what's the object?"

"It's about time we bade farewell to the _Pelikan_" replied Denbigh. "It's four days since that little affair with the destroyers, and our cruisers have apparently made no attempt to get even with von Riesser and his motley crowd. I'm rather curious to know what's doing?"

"I can't see how going ashore will help," objected the Irishman.

"It will if we get to the mouth of the river. If the cruisers are in the lagoon, well and good."

"And if not?"

"Then we'll have to exist as best we can till they do arrive."

"H'm," muttered O'Hara. "And the other fellows--Pennington and Armstrong?"

"We'll ask them to join our merry throng," answered Denbigh. "The more the better, once we get clear of the ship."

That same afternoon the subs broached the matter to the master and mate of the lost _Myra_.

"I must cry off, thanks all the same," was Captain Pennington's reply. "Happen what may my place is with my men. I have no objection to Armstrong going with you, but I hope you have carefully weighed the matter. If you miss being picked up by the boats of the squadron your plight will be an unenviable one. The climate, the wild nature of the coast, and the natives, who are certainly under German influence, are all against you. Personally I think you stand a better chance by remaining here and letting events take their course. The _Pelikan_ is trapped. Capture or destruction is but a matter of time."

"True," admitted Denbigh. "But these fellows evidently mean to put up a stiff fight. They've been doing something down the river--probably throwing up masked batteries. If we could manage to find out what they are up to and can communicate the intelligence to our ships it would help matters."

"That's another consideration," said Captain Pennington. "In fact, your duty lies that way."

"Are you trying your luck with us, Armstrong?" asked O'Hara.

"I'd be only too pleased to have a cut at it," replied the mate. "Especially as Captain Pennington has no objections. How do you propose to get clear of the ship? You can't swim ashore, because there's nothing but slimy mud on the bank for some distance."

"There's a punt made fast alongside the port quarter," said Denbigh. "They don't hoist it on board at night, because it's there when we turn in and in the same place when we come on deck in the morning. They only use it during the day."

"And there's a sentry right aft," objected Armstrong. "He'd spot us as sure as daylight."

"Look here," declared the sub. "If I succeed in getting her alongside amidships will you be ready to swarm down and into her?"

Armstrong nodded in assent. O'Hara also expressed his willingness to attempt the enterprise.

The Irishman still had his pistol. He had taken an early opportunity of cleaning it after his immersion. The screw-driver had been lost in the _Myra_, but by this time the lock furniture was easy to remove, a coin doing duty for the hitherto indispensable tool. The three men also contrived to reserve a small quantity of food and a glass bottle filled with soda-water.

Captain Pennington and Armstrong had been berthed in the same cabin as the two subs. That facilitated matters, since the master of the _Myra_ could cover his companions' tracks.

"They'll make it pretty hot for me when they find you've cleared out," he remarked. "I can stick that. I don't think they'll go to extreme measures with me. If they do they'll be sorry for it later on."

At the usual hour the officer-prisoners were ordered below. By ten o'clock all was still. The crew of the raider were no longer working by night. The bulk of the preparations completed they were given ample opportunities for rest, since it was necessary to conserve their energies for defence against the impending attack.

On deck a strict watch was maintained, but the attention of the sentries was mainly directed downstream, whence the sudden switching on of the searchlights was to be the signal of the approach of the British flotillas.

It was not until two bells (1 a.m.) that the three officers stole from their cabin. On deck all was in darkness. There was no moon. Every light was extinguished. A mist obscured the glimmer of the stars. It was one of those nights when it was really impossible to see one's hand in front of one's face.

Without interruption the three officers gained the shelter of one of the boats slung inboard with davits. Here, eight feet above the deck, they were in comparative safety. Groping in the stern-sheets Denbigh found what he expected--a hand lead-line.

Keeping the weighted end in the boat he dropped the coils overboard. Caught by the swirling current the line trailed out astern. His next task was to lower the boat's painter, which was to form a means of getting down into the punt.

Stealthily the sub lowered himself hand over hand until his feet touched the water.

"Good heavens, what a current!" he thought. "Well, if the lead-line parts it will be an end to this little business. Here goes!"

He slipped softly into the river, striking out against the current, and at the same time allowing the rush of water to sweep him down across the bows of the punt, which was about a hundred feet from the place where he had descended.

Suddenly something flicked across his head. It was the trailing lead-line. Grasping it he allowed himself to be carried past the side of the ship until he came within reach of the punt, which was made fast to the lizard of one of the swinging booms.

Still retaining the line Denbigh clambered over the stern. The punt was yawing in the tideway. He could see that it would be impossible to haul it against the stream unless he kept well off.

He groped for'ard. In the bluff stem he found a metal ring-bolt. Through this he passed the lead-line, making fast to another ring-bolt in the transom.

So far so good. His next step was to cut adrift the unwieldy little craft. Released from the hold of the two ropes the punt swung away from the ship's side, but showed little tendency to yaw.

Slowly Denbigh began to haul in the lead-line. Foot by foot the punt crept up-stream. Trimmed well by the stern she towed lightly, but the securing line was none too strong. His journey to the place where he had entered the water seemed interminable, but at length Denbigh felt the trailing painter of the boat in the davits.

He made fast. As he did so the punt swung in towards the ship's side, her gunwale making a resounding sound as it came in contact with the steel plating.

He could hear men's footsteps approaching. Through the darkness he heard a German sailor enquiring of his companion what the noise was. The fellow expressed his opinion that it was merely a hippopotamus, and the explanation being evidently satisfactory the men went aft once more.

Grasping the painter Denbigh jerked it three times. It was the prearranged signal for his comrades to rejoin him. Silently Armstrong slid down the rope, followed by O'Hara.

By this time they were growing accustomed to the darkness. Denbigh could see the white uniforms of his companions. He wondered whether they would be spotted once the punt drifted away from the ship's side.

Just above his head was a cluster of palm branches, suspended in a line from the rail.

"I'll take the liberty of removing some of their floral decorations," mused Denbigh. Then signing to his companions to lie down he covered them with the broad leaves, cut the log-line, and allowed the punt to drift at the mercy of the strong ebb-tide.