CHAPTER V
Broken down in Mid-ocean
"It's all right, boys!" came a deep voice. "It's only the Padrefallen out of his bunk again."
The men recognized the voice.
"Good old Padre!" they shouted, and then silence fell upon thecrowd. Someone struck a match, and held it so that the feebleglimmer shone upon his face. It was the C.O.
"File out in an orderly manner, lads," he ordered. "Fall in on theupper deck. I'll _follow_ you out. We are not going over the topthis time; when we do I'll take good care to _lead_ you."
On the upper deck a bugle rang out shrilly. The seamen, assisted bysome 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 firstsigns of panic nipped in the bud, the men were now as cool ascucumbers.
"How far is it to the nearest land?" enquired one as he ascended theladder.
"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: "Myword, Padre, heaven forgive you for that lie, but you saved thesituation."
Like most of his comrades, Malcolm Carr was under the impressionthat he would soon have to swim for it, unless he was one of thelucky ones to get told off to the boats. If anyone had suggestedthat he was afraid, he would have stoutly repudiated the statement;but he was conscious of a peculiar sinking sensation in the pit ofhis stomach. To a man not a sailor by profession the knowledge thatonly a comparatively thin steel plate, and fractured at that, isbetween him and death by drowning is apt to be decidedlydisconcerting. He had voluntarily contracted to risk his life byfighting the Boche, but to be "downed" without the chance of seeinga 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. Whyaren't they lowering the boats? They don't seem in any sort of ahurry."
"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 thatthere is no immediate danger. There has been a slight explosion in abunker. One compartment--the for'ard stokehold--is flooded. For thepresent the men will remain on deck. The cooks will issue a hotration. Stand at ease!"
Out came pipes and cigarettes. The men began chatting and yarning,discussing the possibilities and chances of the catastrophe. Theexplosion had been an internal one, sufficient to cripple thevessel's engines. The question naturally arose as to whether it wasthe work of a Hun agent.
"I'd like to know who the idiot was who yelled out something aboutbeing 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 thefirst speaker contemptuously.
"And," retorted the other, "if I were in C Company I'd take it. Asfor----"
"Stop that!" ordered Sergeant Fortescue; then, turning to Malcolm,he added: "It shows the boys are settling down again. Sort ofpsychologic phenomenon; I've noticed it before. While there's dangerthey are as well-behaved as kids in a drawing-room; directly it'sover they let themselves go and start treading on each other'scorns. 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 leftWellington two days after we did, sends a reassuring message. She'sa faster boat, you know. But I might add," he said, lowering hisvoice, "that we've been warned that the _See Adler_ is somewhereknocking around, and we have to take due precaution. Ah! There youare. They're serving out small-arms and ammunition to C Company."
The situation was a grave one. Lying helpless on the water wasTransport 99, unescorted and with no other friendly vessel withinten hours' steaming of her. She was armed with two 4.7 guns bothmounted aft. These were of little use against a swift hostile craftshould the latter approach on a bearing three degrees on either sideof the _Awarua's_ bows. On the other hand there were half a dozenMaxims and nearly two thousand rifles on board, although these wouldbe of little use if the raider kept beyond 200 yards' range.
Against an armed and mobile vessel the _See Adler_ would stand butlittle chance. She was a sailing craft provided with a powerfulmotor installation. Earlier in the year she had caused a certainamount of sensation by her depredations in the Atlantic, untilBritish cruisers made that locality too hot for her. She vanishedmysteriously. There were vague rumours that she had been sent to thebottom by one of the Allied warships. It was now evident that shehad rounded the Horn, making use of her sails only and keeping hermotors for cases of emergency, and at the present was within a fewmiles of the transport _Awarua_.
Throughout the rest of the night the transport's crew manned the twostern-chasers. The Maxims, protected by coal-sacks and mealie-bags,were kept ready for instant action, while each company took duty inturn to man the side, ready to supplement the machine- andquick-firing guns with a fusillade of small arms.
Daybreak came, but with it no signs of the expected raider. Viewedfrom the deck, the _Awarua_ showed no trace of the explosion beyonda slight list to starboard. The steam had been raised from theauxiliary engines, and the pumps were continuously ejecting waterthat made its way from the flooded stokehold to the adjoiningcompartments. The ship's artificers were busily engaged in repairingthe fractured main steam-pipe. It was just possible that the vesselmight be able to proceed under her own steam, either back toWellington or else to Port Stanley, in the Falkland Islands.Meanwhile there was no line of churned water extending from underthe vessel's quarter as far as the eye could reach, no dullreverberations of the "screw". The _Awarua_, lying helpless, rolledsullenly in the swell at the mercy of wind and ocean current.
Meanwhile the troops were kept fully occupied. Ennui was at allcosts to be banished, and the best antidote for that was plenty ofhard work. Parades, boat drill, physical exercises, almost filledthe bill; but even then there were plenty of enthusiasts to takepart in strenuous games on deck, in which the C.O. and most of theofficers 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 thestarry night, the new arrival came within hailing distance, andpreparations were made to take the _Awarua_ in tow.
By midnight Transport 99 was moving slowly through the water in thewake of the towing vessel, three hearty cheers from the boys showingtheir relief at the thought that the tedious period of immobilitywas at an end. The repairs to the steam-pipe were almost completed,and with reasonable luck the _Awarua_ might be able to proceed underher own steam before daybreak.
At reveille Malcolm Carr heard the welcome thud of the propeller.Going on deck, he found that Transport 101 was hull down to thewest'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. Hewas a loquacious Welsh-man, always "in the know", and one of therecognized media between the ship's officers and the rank and file.
"Hallo, Sergeant!" he exclaimed, jerking his thumb in the directionof the cruiser. "How's that, eh? Sorter objec' lesson on the greatsilent 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, butwouldn't rep
ly."
"Why not?" asked Carr curiously.
"'Cause she was waitin' to mop up that _See Adler_. Kept out ofsight, hoping, in a manner o' speaking, that the Dutchy would have asmack at us, and then she'd butt in. Howsomever, they say as a japcruiser 'as got the hang of the 'Un, an' you chaps 'ave been doneout of a visit to Davy Jones this time."
A Lively Bit of the Front: A Tale of the New Zealand Rifles on the Western Front Page 5