CHAPTER XVI
A Daring Stroke
The Lieutenant-Commander's decision was a sound one. By following theslowly-moving Turkish steamer, maintaining her distance solely by thenoise of the latter's paddles, the submarine could keep entirelysubmerged and yet be led towards a recognized anchorage in the Ottomannavy. It only remained to be seen whether the steamer was making forConstantinople or not. In any case the submarine would be miles nearerher destination by nightfall; but, if the Turkish vessel were bound forthe Golden Horn, Huxtable meant to attack at the first opportunity,without waiting for dawn, and trust to the ensuing confusion followingthe complete surprise to effect his escape.
Twenty minutes elapsed. Huxtable's face began to grow long, for thecompass course showed that the submarine was being led in a directionS.S.E. Was it possible, he asked himself, that the wretched littlepaddle-boat was making for Nagara or some of the other Dardanellesforts?
"I'll hang on for another ten minutes," he declared. "Then, if thesteamer still persists in going in the opposite direction to the one Iwish, I'll decline to have any more truck with her."
"She's turning," exclaimed Dick. "She's ported her helm."
"Good!" ejaculated the Lieutenant-Commander, as the submarine swunground till her bow pointed due north. "Now that is much morereasonable."
During the next hour the steamer zigzagged considerably. It was safeto conclude that she was threading her way through the intricateminefield that guarded the southern outlet of the Bosphorus.
A long-drawn-out wail upon the syren of the Turkish vessel, followed byfour shrill blasts, announced that she was approaching her anchorage.Dearly would Huxtable have liked to bring the periscope of his craft tothe surface, but he resolutely resisted the temptation.
The unwitting pilot was slowing down; it was time for the submarine to"part company", for the water was shoaling considerably. To follow thesteamer farther would result in the British craft being exposed to thedanger of being rammed by passing vessels, since the needle of thedepth-indicator was already hovering around thirty-five feet.
"I might have guessed that she would not be likely to bring up in deepwater," remarked the Lieutenant-Commander to Dick, referring to thesteamer, the paddle-beats of which were growing fainter and fainter."It was a chance, of course, but it didn't exactly come off."
"At any rate she piloted us in very nicely," said Crosthwaite.
"If we are in the Golden Horn, yes," admitted Huxtable. "But are we?All we can do is to wait until just after sunset, and then take a quicklook round. The place seems too jolly quiet for Constantinople. Ihaven't heard the thud of an engine since we dropped the steamer, orthe steamer dropped us--whichever way you like to take it."
In order to make doubly certain that there was no maritime traffic inthe vicinity, the Lieutenant-Commander enjoined silence for the spaceof five minutes. With his ear against the concave side of thesubmarine's hull he waited and listened intently. Not a sound was tobe heard, for already the British craft's motors had been switched off,and she was now lying motionless in ten fathoms on the bed of the sea.
Slowly the hours passed until the time of sunset drew near, then oncemore the crew were called to their stations. As coolly as if engagedin evolutions in the piping times of peace the Lieutenant-Commandergave his orders.
"Charge firing-tank; flood torpedo-tubes; stand by."
The men at the torpedo-tubes obeyed with alacrity, yet wonderingly, forthe sanguineness of their young skipper in ordering the torpedoes to beplaced in the tubes before he was even certain that an enemy was insight puzzled them.
Moving very slowly ahead, the submarine rose till her periscope justshowed above the surface. Even Huxtable in his most optimistic mooddid not expect the sight which met his gaze as he looked at thedazzling object-bowl of the periscope. There, clearly depicted, was alarge cruiser flying the Turkish flag. She was within two hundredyards of the submarine, and at about a like distance from the northernshore of a broad creek. The cruiser was not in a position of defence.Her sun awnings were still rigged, her torpedo-nets not out; even herfo'c'sle and quarter-deck guns were trained fore and aft, and still hadtheir tompions in the muzzles. Nor were there any signs that she hadsteam up.
"All clear, sir!" reported Sub-lieutenant Devereux, who, stationed atthe supplementary periscope, had swept the limited horizon to certainthat no hostile destroyer or patrol-boat in the vicinity.
"Both tubes--fire!" ordered the Lieutenant-Commander.
He made no attempt to dive as the two missiles left their tubes. Hehad sufficient reason to believe that the Turks would be toopanic-stricken to attempt to fire at their assailant.
To his satisfaction he noted, as he watched the diverging white line offoam that marked the of the torpedoes, that both weapons were headingstraight for the mark with a velocity almost approaching that of anexpress train.
A Turkish seaman on the fo'c'sle, gazing idly at the water, was thefirst of the crew of the warship to notice the impending danger. Eventhen he did not realize the situation, for the possibility of a torpedofired from a submarine in strongly-guarded waters never occurred to himuntil the missiles were almost home.
He gave the alarm. The apathetic officers and seamen did nothing, forit would have been useless to attempt to ward off the blow; but insheer panic they rushed to the side farthest from the approach ofdanger.
Both torpedoes struck almost simultaneously and within thirty feet ofeach other. The cruiser reeled as a double column of water was hurledinto the air to a height of nearly two hundred feet. Almost before theartificial waterspout had subsided the ship was settling rapidly by thestern.
Even then Huxtable made no attempt to dive. He was content to keep theperiscope above the level of the sea and to watch the disappearance ofthe stricken vessel.
Not a shot was fired from the cruiser. The whole energies of officersand crew were diverted towards their own safety. Panic prevailed, forin their mad rush to launch the remaining boats men fought each other,their shouts of anger and shrieks of despair outvying the hiss of theescaping air from the confined spaces of the sinking ship. Others,without being given orders, leapt overboard and swam for the shore,till the intervening stretch of water was dotted with the heads of theterrified swimmers.
"What a contrast to the sinking of the _Ocean_!" thought Dick. "Herethey are in fairly shallow water and within easy distance from land,and yet they must fight each other like brutes."
"Destroyers and patrol-boats approaching, sir," reported Devereux, whowas still sweeping the limited expanse of view through theafter-periscope.
"Very good," replied the Lieutenant-Commander. Then turning to Dick headded: "I'm jolly glad. We'll have a run for our money, for, hang it!though war is war, one cannot help feeling just a little sorry to haveto sneak up and torpedo an unsuspecting craft."
"She would have sent us to the bottom without the faintest compunctionif she had had the ghost of a chance, sir," replied Dick. "I don'tthink we need have anything upon our consciences."
"Well, we'll have to be moving," remarked Huxtable, who was taking aleisurely survey of his surroundings.
The cruiser had now sunk. Only the tops of her funnels and her mastswere visible. She had been lying at anchor in a fairly broad andwidening channel, the shores of which on both sides were dotted withpicturesque kiosks, half hidden in clusters of cypress and olive trees.Beyond the visible relics of the torpedoed ship and the still distantTurkish patrol-craft, there was nothing to denote the presence of warconditions.
"By Jove!" exclaimed Huxtable. "We're miles up the Golden Horn. Thoseare the houses of Pera we can see in the distance. That paddle-steamermust have piloted us through the bridge of boats between the capitaland Galata. Crosthwaite, my boy, we've beaten all records--and we'vegot to get back."
He gave the order to dive. Before the periscope had time to disappeara column of spray dashed up within twenty yards, as a shell from thenearest destroyer ricochet
ted and plunged with disastrous results intoan elegant summer resort on the bank of the Golden Horn.
Gently feeling her way, lest any large disturbance of the water shouldbetray her position, the submarine made for the Bosphorus; but beforeshe had covered a quarter of a mile she grounded on a bed of slimy mud.
Promptly the Lieutenant-Commander ordered the motors to be switchedoff. Any attempt to forge ahead would only succeed in churning up vastquantities of mud by the propellers. All that could be done for thetime being was to lie low.
The thud of machinery announced to the crew that the Ottoman destroyerswere cruising over their hiding-place, while muffled detonations atfrequent intervals told them that the Turks were making use ofexplosive grapnels in the hope of locating and shattering the hull ofthe British submarine.
"That's a close one!" muttered Dick, as a sharp detonation resulted innothing worse than making the submarine roll sluggishly on the mud. Itwas too close to be pleasant, for, although the water was thick withsediment and effectually precluded daylight from filtering through theobservation scuttles, the explosion threw a short blinding flash intothe interior of the conning-tower.
It was a time of acute peril and mental strain. At any moment one ofthe submerged charges of gun-cotton might be exploded actually incontact with the steel hull, the crew of which were helpless to raiseeven a finger in self-defence. But the expected did not happen.Apparently satisfied with the result of their operations, the Turkishdestroyers and patrol-boats steamed off, and quietude reigned once moreon and under the waters of the Golden Horn.
Huxtable was too wily a strategist to move prematurely. It waspractically impossible to creep out of the tortuous channel while thesubmarine was completely submerged. The suspicions of the Turks beingaroused, it was equally hazardous to show even a momentary glimpse ofthe periscope during the hours of daylight. He resolved to lie _perdu_until nightfall, and then to follow the first steamer that was makingfor the Bosphorus.
"Let's hope that a deep-draughted craft won't be coming down," heremarked. "There's less than twenty-four feet between the protectiongirder and the surface. This is one of the occasions when my devicehas obvious drawbacks."
"It won't hurt us if the steelwork is hit by a vessel's keel, sir,"said Devereux.
"I don't know so much about that," objected the Lieutenant-Commander."The sudden wrench might start some of our plates. In any case theramming craft would stop to investigate."
"Unless she fancied that she'd fouled some of the wreckage of thecruiser we sank," said Dick.
"Let's hope the Turks will have no necessity to exercise their powersof discernment," said Huxtable. "In any case I want to do a littlemore damage before we're out of action. But," he added cheerfully, "Ihave a presentiment that we'll fetch back in safety."
Several hours passed in tedious suspense. Numerous steam vessels spedoverhead or within hearing distance, for the thud, thud of theirengines and the noise of the revolutions of their propellers could bedistinctly heard.
"You'd better turn in," suggested Huxtable to Dick. "There's nothingdoing, and you must be awfully tired."
"I feel a bit sleepy," admitted Crosthwaite; "but don't you think youought to have forty winks, sir?"
"I suppose I'd feel all the better if I did," admitted theLieutenant-Commander. "Devereux can take charge. He's had his watchbelow."
Enjoining the Sub-lieutenant of the submarine to call him at the firstsuspicion of danger, Huxtable pulled off his boots and rolled, just ashe was, into his bunk, while Dick was soon fast asleep in the bedrecently occupied by young Devereux.
It seemed as if he had not dozed for more than ten minutes when Dickwas awakened by the purr of the submarine's electric motors. Hestarted up. The officer's cabin was ablaze with light. Devereux, witha bundle of charts under his arm, was making his way along the narrowgangway between the double rows of bunks.
"Hello, old man!" he exclaimed. "Awake, eh?"
"What's the time?" asked Dick drowsily.
Devereux consulted his watch.
"Twenty-three minutes past two," he announced.
"Never!" ejaculated Crosthwaite incredulously. "Surely I haven't----"
"Yes, you have," interrupted Devereux with a laugh. "Seven andthree-quarter hours of solid sleep! Sorry I disturbed you."
"You didn't," declared Dick. "It was the engines."
"We're on the move again," explained his companion. "We're following asmall paddle-boat. Huxtable fancies it's the one that piloted us here.He may be right--he generally is. If so, it's a rare slice of luck.Look at young Farnworth. Submarine life apparently suits him, for he'sdoing his level best to sleep the clock round."
Just then a bell clanged. The Lieutenant-Commander's voice could beheard ordering the ballast tanks to be blown.
"I must be off," exclaimed Devereux. "It's action stations.Something's up."
Dick was out of his bunk in a trice, but before he gained the door heheard the order being given to charge both tubes.
The submarine was about to attack yet another victim.
The Fight for Constantinople: A Story of the Gallipoli Peninsula Page 16