Rounding up the Raider Part 7

The Irishman, however, had no opportunity of putting his plan into effect, for at that moment a petty-officer informed the subs that it was the kapitan's pleasure they should go below.

They found the port-hole closed and locked. Von Riesser was not a man to take needless risks.

A hoist of bunting fluttered from the cruiser's signal yard-arm. It was a message in the International Code: "E C--what s.h.i.+p is that?"

Promptly the Dutch ensign was hoisted, while simultaneously the "number" of the real _Zwaan_ was made.

From the cruiser came another signal. Von Riesser had no occasion to consult the code-book. It was "I D--Heave-to, or I fire."

"Hard a-port!" he shouted, and telegraphed for full speed ahead.

Round swung the _Pelikan_, listing until five feet of her underbody showed clear. Even as she did so a couple of 12-pounders spat venomously, the sh.e.l.ls pa.s.sing perilously close to the towering hull.

Down fluttered the Dutch ensign. The British cruiser ceased firing.

Ahead lay a bank of fog.

Von Riesser knew that he was in a tight corner, and it was in tight corners that the better qualities of the man showed themselves. For a few moments he stood motionless. Every second the _Pelikan_ was slipping farther and farther away from the cruiser, which, hampered by her tow, was unable to stand in pursuit. Her skipper was somewhat mystified. According to the rules of the game the _Pelikan_ had struck, yet he knew that of necessity the immense bulk must carry considerable way.

The British cruiser had no doubts of the blue liner with the broad black band, for the survivors of the _Nichi Maru_ had been picked up by one of the patrolling vessels. Once more that mixed blessing, wireless telegraphy, had been brought into service, and a description of the raider sent far and wide. Already a number of light cruisers were on their way from Simon's Bay to intercept the _Pelikan_, while the blockading squadron off the east coast of Africa had been warned of the likely attempt on the part of the fugitive to gain one of the little-known and unfrequented rivers of the last of Germany's overseas possessions.

Von Riesser alternately kept glancing ahead and astern. The haze was beginning to envelop the monitor and her escort.

He shouted an order to a petty officer. The man doubled aft, bawling as he ran. Then from the ensign staff fluttered the Black Cross of the Imperial German Navy.

The cruiser's reply was a salvo from her quick-firers. Two sh.e.l.ls struck home, one bursting on the p.o.o.p and blowing the emblem of Germany to atoms, besides causing considerable damage to the deck. A second burst amids.h.i.+ps, shattering a couple of ventilators, splintering one of the boats, and destroying the greater portion of the bridge. Fragments of metal and splinters of wood flew in all directions. Kapitan von Riesser narrowly escaped being hit. As it was, one of his officers and two seamen were killed outright, five others being seriously wounded, while the kapitan was thrown to the deck by the concussion.

For a few minutes the _Pelikan_ was enveloped in smoke and spray thrown up by the sh.e.l.ls that exploded on either side; but before the cruiser could get in another effective shot the raider was lost in the mist.

Von Riesser guessed, and rightly, that the cat was out of the bag, otherwise the cruiser would not have hoisted that peremptory demand to heave-to. He realized that his position was a hazardous one.

Thousands of miles from a friendly port, sought by perhaps a score of British cruisers, and, moreover, running short of coal, the _Pelikan_ stood a very small chance of dropping anchor in East African waters, except as a prize.

On the other hand, Fate, in the guise of the mist, had dealt kindly with the _Pelikan_. For the rest of the day she steamed westward.

Down below the firemen toiled like Trojans, shovelling coal into the glowing furnaces. On deck the crew worked hard, clearing away the debris left by the British cruiser's sh.e.l.ls. The wireless staff were busy "jamming" the numerous messages thrown out from various vessels, that were converging on the monitor and her escort for the purpose of cutting off the audacious _Pelikan_.

About an hour before sunset the mist cleared. The sea was still calm, although high overhead the ragged and greasy clouds betokened the approach of a southerly gale. The setting sun, a ball of bright yellow, set in a pale greenish-yellow sky, threw its slanting rays across the damaged bridge, almost blinding the look-out with its brilliance.

"Sail on the starboard bow," reported one of the watchers.

Von Riesser, who had practically recovered from the shock of being capsized by the explosion, had not left the bridge. He immediately gave orders to starboard the helm. At the present juncture he would not risk meeting even an unarmed tramp laden with military stores.

The stranger was the British light cruiser _Actaeon_, of 3000 tons, and with a speed of slightly over 20 knots. Pelting towards the scene of the encounter between the _Pelikan_ and her foiled antagonist, the _Actaeon_ was unwittingly approaching the fugitive. She, having the advantage of the light, recognized the German liner almost before the latter had noticed her presence.

As the _Pelikan_ swung round, the _Actaeon_ followed suit, both vessels being now on slightly converging courses and about six miles apart. It was a question as to which of the two was the speediest s.h.i.+p--a question, seemingly, that events only could prove.

The sun set. The short period of tropical twilight gave place to pitch-black night, for the moon, now two days after the full, had not yet risen.

On board the _Pelikan_ all lights that might be visible from outside were extinguished, save for one white light shown aft. The pursuing vessel displayed no lights, but her approximate position could be fixed by means of the dull-red glow of the flames that issued from her three funnels.

"Do you think she's gaining, von Langer?" asked the kapitan anxiously, after an interval of almost unbroken silence as far as the officers on the _Pelikan's_ bridge were concerned.

"I am not sure," replied the ober-leutnant. "We do not appear to be gaining on her. It may be that we are just holding our own."

"Unless we can shake her off completely before sunrise we stand little chance," said von Riesser moodily. "We cannot stand up to her. Those guns would send us to the bottom in a quarter of an hour, long before we came within torpedo range."

"If we had but a dozen mines, sir----" began Unter-leutnant Klick.

"It is no use wis.h.i.+ng for what we haven't got," snapped the kapitan.

"And what is more, yon English s.h.i.+p is taking good care not to follow directly in our wake in case we were dropping mines."

There was silence for some moments. Von Riesser was deep in thought, his eyes fixed the while upon the lurid red tint on the horizon.

"Ach!" he exclaimed. "I think I have it. Here, Herr Klick, see that the motor launch is cleared ready for lowering."

CHAPTER VI

The Decoy

Wondering at the inexplicable nature of Kapitan von Riesser's order the unter-leutnant hurried off. In a few minutes the sea-boat's crew, drilled for such emergencies, had provisioned and watered the twenty-five-foot motor-launch that hung in davits abreast of the after-funnel.

The securing chocks were removed, the falls manned, and the davits swung outboard.

"Motor-launch ready, sir!" reported the unter-leutnant. "Water and provisions are on board, and a hundred litres of petrol."

"I gave no orders for the boat to be victualled," exclaimed the kapitan. "No matter: it will waste too much valuable time to remove the stuff. Now, listen, Herr Klick. Everything depends upon the strict carrying out of my instructions. Place two men on board the launch--one to tend each of the lower blocks of the falls. Have ready a white light. See that the helm is lashed. I will slow down the s.h.i.+p, and turn her so that the launch will be slightly to leeward. At the word, see that the motor is started and the light exhibited. Then lower away smartly, and tell the men to hang on to the falls when they are disengaged unless they want to be a target for the English cannon."

"I understand, sir. You are using the boat as a decoy."

"Precisely, Herr Klick. Now, be sharp. With a vessel pursuing us at a rate equal to our utmost speed we cannot afford to lose precious moments in lying-to."

"I say, you fellows, I think I'll go on deck and see what's doing,"

announced Sub-lieutenant Stirling.

His companions looked at him with feelings akin to amazement.

"What the deuce are you babbling about, old man?" asked O'Hara. "You know as well as we do that we are locked in."

None of the three prisoners had any thought of turning in. They had heard the crash of the British sh.e.l.ls as the cruiser sought to wing the German raider. In spite of the danger of being hit, and what was infinitely worse, being drowned like rats in a trap in a foundering vessel--since it was more than possible that the crew of the _Pelikan_ would take no steps to liberate the captives--the subs were in high spirits. They took it for granted that their release would be a matter of a few minutes only, since the lightly-built _Pelikan_ would stand no earthly chance against the vastly-superior ordnance of the pursuing vessel. Then came a sudden cessation of the firing; yet the prisoners knew by the thud of the engines that the German s.h.i.+p was still pelting on her bid for safety.

Hours pa.s.sed. There was no doubt in the minds of the three men that the _Pelikan_ was being hotly pursued. The pulsations of the engines under forced draught was conclusive evidence on that point. The captive officers sat and talked, drawing conclusions as to what was taking place, until Stirling suddenly hurled a verbal bomb-sh.e.l.l by announcing his intention of going on deck.

"Don't be so rash with your a.s.sertions, Pat," replied Stirling in mock reproof. "It is certainly true that we are locked in. It is also a fact that I possess a very efficient screw-driver. I took the liberty of annexing it, as one of the carpenter's crew has been guilty of negligence. On board a British s.h.i.+p that screw-driver would, in the usual course of routine, find itself in the scran-bag; but since I'm not at all certain that such a visible cure for forgetfulness exists in the German navy, I have and hold the article in question."

"No need to brag about it, old man," said O'Hara. "You are not the only light-fingered gentleman of our little coterie. As these Germans had no compunction in entering the cabin and sneaking out hard-earned cash, I repaid the compliment by entering one of the officer's cabins, and this is what I annexed."