Chapter 5 No.5

The Pursuit of the Pelikan

"One thing that puzzles me," remarked Stirling during the following forenoon, "is why they didn't clap us below under hatches, instead of trying to stupefy us. It would have been far less trouble."

"I must say that I share your thoughts," said Denbigh. "These Germans are no fools. They are pretty thorough in whatever they take up, whether it's a diabolical scheme or otherwise. It might be that there's something below that they don't want us to see, and rather than run a risk in that direction, they prefer to lock us up in the cabin."

"That's all very well," rejoined O'Hara. "But it won't wash. Old von Langer let it out in the course of conversation that this ship has already been examined by one of our cruisers."

"Then perhaps the boarding-officer wasn't cute enough. It's a tribute to our sagacity, old man," said Stirling. "However, time and events will prove. By Jove, the fateful hour approaches! What will von Riesser say to our decision?"

At eight bells the three British officers were told to proceed to the kapitan's cabin. This time von Riesser was alone. He looked flustered and worried.

"Sit down, gentlemen," he began. "You must look upon this as a private and confidential chat. Now, to go straight to the point: are you prepared, in the event of your being given honourable treatment and allowed the greatest liberty possible, to maintain silence upon last night's affair?"

Denbigh, as spokesman, did not think it advisable to give a direct reply.

"Do you, on your part, promise to refrain from treacherous attacks upon Allied merchantmen?" he asked.

"I think I can give that guarantee," replied von Riesser. "If I do so, will you write a certificate to the effect that, to the best of your belief, I, as commander of the ship, am acting in accordance with the present accepted rules of naval warfare? That, I think, will square matters."

"We cannot do that," declared Denbigh. "We are willing to give a certificate to the effect that you acted with discretion."

The kapitan smiled grimly.

"There is a certain amount of latitude in that," he replied. "I suppose you will then say nothing of last night's business."

"Since we have no direct evidence of what you have done, we cannot very well state a case," said Denbigh. "The thing is this: are you going to torpedo any merchantmen without warning?"

"No," replied von Riesser.

"Very well. We have forgotten last night," declared Denbigh. "Should occasion arise we will give you the required certificate."

"And should occasion not arise," thought von Riesser, "I will make it pretty hot for these young cubs. Once safely in port in our African colony, I will show them what it means to thwart a Prussian officer."

With these sentiments in his mind and a smile on his face the kapitan dismissed his prisoners.

During the afternoon there was a thick haze. It was impossible to distinguish anything beyond a distance of about a mile from the ship. Sea and sky were merged into an ill-defined blurr. The glass, too, was falling rapidly. That and the presence of the mist betokened an imminent change in the weather.

Suddenly there was a rift in the curtain of vapour. At less than two miles away on the Pelikan's port bow were two vessels, one being in tow of the other.

The subs were quick to recognize the leading craft. She was a British cruiser of the "Eclipse" class-a vessel of 5600 tons, and with a nominal speed of 19 knots. But the craft in tow was a puzzle to them. She was low-lying, with a raised superstructure amidships, one funnel, and a tall mast fitted with a fire-control platform. From her for'ard turret two huge guns, seemingly out of all proportion to the rest of the ship, protruded. The muzzles, instead of being inclined upwards, were depressed. Although Denbigh and his companions could not distinguish details owing to the distance of the vessel, the German officers, by means of their telescopes and binoculars, could see that the muzzles of the guns were resting on large chocks bolted to the deck, while the protruding part of the weapons were additionally secured by stout hawsers. The mysterious craft was apparently deserted. Everything was battened down, for the decks were swept by the long Atlantic waves.

"By Jove!" ejaculated O'Hara. "She must be one of our monitors. Now, where is she off to, I should like to know? There's something in the wind."

"BY JOVE!" EJACULATED O'HARA, "SHE MUST BE ONE OF OUR MONITORS."

Kapitan von Riesser could have answered the question. He stood on the bridge, glasses glued to his face and rage in his heart. There could be but one solution. The monitor was bound for the Indian Ocean, to take part in the forthcoming operations against the Germans in East Africa.

"Donnerwetter!" muttered von Riesser. "These accursed English. They may throw away their opportunities on land, but they know how to do things at sea."

"Shall I carry on, sir?" asked the officer of the watch.

"No, port helm," ordered the kapitan. Then realizing that the carrying out of this command might arouse the suspicions of the British cruiser, he had the Pelikan steadied on her helm. The course would bring her within a mile of the cruiser and her tow.

"The cheek!" exclaimed Stirling. "Old von Riesser's going to play a game of bluff."

"I vote we semaphore," suggested O'Hara impulsively. "We'd do the trick before they could stop us."

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 ship 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 shells passing 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 shells struck home, one bursting on the poop and blowing the emblem of Germany to atoms, besides causing considerable damage to the deck. A second burst amidships, 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 shells 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 shells. 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 Act?on, 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 Act?on 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 Act?on 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 ship-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 wishing for what we haven't got," snapped the kapitan. "And what is more, yon English ship 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."