CHAPTER XI

  Osborne's Capture

  WITH assistance Dicky Haynes contrived to carry his brother Sub tothe diminutive cabin, where three badly wounded men had already beenplaced in comparative shelter. More for his chum, Dicky Haynes wasunable to do for the present. His duty required him to be on deck toassist the already hard-worked Osborne.

  The bow gun was still firing. Not that any of the enemy were visible,but merely to let them know that sections of the cliffs in thevicinity of the steamboat were decidedly "unhealthy". The Turkishinfantry had suffered fairly heavily when they appeared above thecrest, and the renewed fire from the steam cutter was sufficient tokeep them at a discreet distance.

  "Easy astern!" ordered the Lieutenant. "One of you nip below and seeif she's strained."

  A seaman disappeared down the hatchway of the fore-cabin, quicklyreappearing with the disconcerting news that there was water on thefloorboards.

  "A couple of hands to try and locate the leak," continued Osborne.Then grasping the flexible voice-tube he gave the leading stokerinstructions to couple up the steam bilge-pump.

  Having drawn clear of the boom, and left the pulling cutter and thewhaler to their fate, the steamboat forged ahead, and put a safedistance betwixt her and the trap that had all but proved fatal tothe unfortunate landing party.

  The result of running ahead was to increase the rush of water throughthe holed plank, which, located close to the bulkhead at the fore-endof the stokehold, was awkward to get at. Moreover, a hole in adiagonal-planked craft is specially difficult to repair, even in atemporary fashion. In spite of the action of the powerful pumps thewater was gaining, although the transverse bulkhead kept theengine-room from being flooded. Yet the danger of the boat founderinghad to be faced.

  With fire-tinged smoke pouring from her funnels the cutter continuedher retreat. As long as she kept on a certain bearing, she was maskedby the cliffs from the search-light and the direct fire of theTurkish quick-firers yet Osborne knew that by so doing he was runninga risk of piling the little craft upon one of the numerous ledges ofrock that jutted out from the shore.

  "Vessel dead ahead, sir," reported the look-out man.

  A couple of hundred yards away and right athwart the steamboat'scourse was a long, low-lying craft, apparently hove-to. She showed nolights, nor had she attempted to hail the approaching British boat.To pass her to starboard meant almost certain disaster upon therocks; to alter helm to pass her to port would result in thesteamboat entering the field of the search-lights, and consequentlymake her an easy target for the hostile guns.

  "Stand by, there!" exclaimed Osborne. "Let her have it directly Igive the word. Steady on your helm, coxswain. Keep her at that."

  For a few seconds Lieutenant Osborne kept his glasses focused on themysterious craft. Was she a Turkish patrol-boat intent upon cuttingoff the steam cutter's retreat, or one of the British motor craftsent to assist the landing party?

  Suddenly the Lieutenant gave a chuckle of delight.

  "It's our old friend the Turkish torpedo-boat," he remarked toHaynes. "We gave her what-ho! on our way to pick you up. Her crewjumped overboard and swam for it."

  One thing still puzzled him. The torpedo-boat, when abandoned by herpanic-stricken crew, was a couple of miles farther to the south-west.Now, although apparently without way, she had almost grounded on thenorth-eastern shore of the extensive bay.

  "Can't be the current," mused Osborne. "That sets southerly from theDardanelles. Perhaps it's a counter-current, though."

  The latter theory was correct. A strong run of water, deflected fromthe opposite side of the bay, had set the derelict in a totallydifferent direction from the one Osborne had imagined.

  "We'll have her, old man," he exclaimed to Haynes. "It will besomething to make up for the rotten business. Stand by, bowmen. Outfenders!"

  With hardly the faintest bump, for there was no sea on, the steamcutter was brought alongside the abandoned Turkish craft. Althoughbadly damaged about the upper works and hulled several times abovethe water-line, the latter was still "as tight as a bottle". A coupleof hands were placed on board to take the helm, and the cutter,lashed alongside fore and aft, began to gather way. Gradually speedworked up to five knots, as the little captor and her comparativelylarge prize drew away from the dangerous shore.

  Osborne realized that he was not yet "out of the wood". Ahead was astretch of brilliantly illuminated water, where the search-lights,playing above and over the cliffs, were able to throw direct raysupon the sea. Yet, as the steamboat and her prize entered the light,the Turks refrained from reopening fire. They had spotted thecaptured torpedo-boat; the steam cutter lashed alongside was hiddenfrom their view by the greater bulk of her capture. They recognizedthe former as a unit of the Ottoman Navy. She was known to beattempting a run from the Dardanelles to Smyrna; and yet there couldonly be one reason why she should be proceeding in a westerlydirection.

  When at length the Turks realized that the torpedo-boat was a prize,they brought every available gun to bear upon her. For severalminutes the water all around was churned into columns of foam.Several fragments of shell struck the prize. The steamboat, snuglysheltered under her lee, escaped without further damage. Foiled intheir endeavour, the enemy reluctantly ceased fire.

  As soon as they were out of range the boat's crew were able to devotethemselves to their wounded comrades. For the first time that night alamp was lighted in the after-cabin.

  Tom Webb had recovered consciousness when, having left Haynes incharge, Lieutenant Osborne went below to see how his brother officerand close companion fared.

  The Sub's injuries consisted of a painful, though not dangerous,flesh wound in the muscles of the right leg--a nasty lacerationcaused by one of the sharp spikes of the boom. Webb, in his desperatework, had not noticed the wound until he had attempted to climb overthe side of the steamboat. In addition he had a contused wound on thetop of his head, although he had no idea of how or when the injurywas received.

  "I always was noted for my thick skull, Osborne," he remarked, with arather sorry endeavour to follow out the Scout's maxim of "Keepsmiling". "But I'm sorry for what has happened."

  "It wasn't your fault, or anyone's, as far as I can make out," saidthe Lieutenant. "We were had properly. These things are bound tooccur in war-time. It's lucky it's no worse."

  "Rather humiliating, though," continued Webb. "Getting in a properrat-trap without the chance of firing a shot."

  "We fired many a round, only you know nothing about it," announcedOsborne. "We were quite hotly engaged----"

  "What's that noise I hear?" interrupted the injured officer, as agrinding, rasping sound penetrated into the cabin.

  "Oh, that? Nothing much," replied Osborne modestly. "We've a prizelashed alongside--a Turkish torpedo-boat. She got in our way afterthe boats had cast off, and we winged her. Later on we fell in withher again, and finding her abandoned but seaworthy, we tookpossession of her. So you see, Tom, it hasn't been altogether afruitless expedition. We've lost the pulling cutter and the whaler,and collared a torpedo-boat in exchange."

  "Good business!" exclaimed Webb. "I'd like to cheer, Osborne, only mythroat's burning; and I can't grin my appreciation; the bump on myhead has stretched my cheeks so tightly that if I did I reallybelieve I'd crack the skin. You know----"

  "Destroyer bearing down on the starboard bow, sir," reported Haynesin his best professional manner.

  Osborne hurried from the cabin. Feeble though the lamplight was, itwas sufficient to dazzle his eyes and render him incapable of seeinganything distinctly.

  "Bring a signalling lamp with you," he ordered, at the same timemaking a leap for the torpedo-boat's deck.

  Out of the darkness flashed the destroyer's search-light full uponthe prize. It was a nerve-racking ordeal, for the oncoming craft,recognizing the torpedo-boat as a Turkish vessel, would perhaps startblazing away without further ado.

  Promptly the steamboat's signalman made her private number. Thedestro
yer acknowledged, and the danger was at an end. Circling andeasing down, the British war-ship approached within hailing distance.

  "_Portchester Castle's_ steamboat and prize, eh?" shouted herLieutenant-commander. "You're lucky to have collared theirtorpedo-boat. We've been on the look-out for her the last week. Canwe render any assistance?"

  Osborne considered. It was still a long way back to the _PortchesterCastle_. Already the wind was rising, and the sea, hitherto calm,promised to become at least choppy before very long.

  "Will you relieve us of our prize?" he asked.

  "Certainly," was the reply. "We'll tow her into Lemnos."

  Admirably manoeuvred, the destroyer came close enough to enable aline to be thrown to the prize's fore-deck. To the line was attacheda stout wire hawser, the end of which was made fast to thetorpedo-boat's for'ard bollard. Half a dozen sailors from thedestroyer boarded and took possession of the capture, while Osborneand his men returned to the steamboat. The lashings securing thelatter alongside the prize were then cast off, and in less than tenminutes the destroyer and her tow were swallowed up in the darkness.

  "That's a load off my mind," soliloquized Osborne, as speed wasincreased to fifteen knots. By this time the leak had beentemporarily plugged, the water that had made its way into thefore-cabin had been ejected, and there was every chance of thesteamboat making a quick run back to her parent ship.

  "Where be the dawg, sir?" enquired one of the steamboat's crew. "Ican't see 'im nowheres aboard."

  "Laddie!" exclaimed the Lieutenant. "Where are you? Come here, oldboy."

  There was no response. In ordinary circumstances Laddie would bewithin a paw's length of his master. Even though the animal might besulking after the Lieutenant's admonition (and the dog was not givento sulking), the mere utterance of his name would bring him boundingto his master in an ecstasy of delight.

  "Anyone seen Laddie recently?" sang out the Lieutenant, addressingthe men up for'ard.

  "I saw him a-followin' you when you got aboard that tawpeda-boat,sir," declared a young able-seaman. "He were close on your heels whenyou jumped, sir."

  "Have a look down below," continued Osborne anxiously.

  A search of the fore-cabin produced no desired result. In thediminutive engine-room, the leading stoker examined every nook andcranny of the compartment housing that box of tricks of intricatemachinery. Reluctantly Osborne came to the conclusion that his petwas missing. The able-seaman, questioned further, was firm in hisbelief that he had seen Laddie following his master, but he could notsay whether the animal actually boarded the prize. Nor could any ofthe other men express a definite opinion on that point.

  It was just possible that the dog might have missed his footing, andhave fallen between the steamboat and her capture. Failing beingcrushed between the two craft he might have fallen into the sea, and,unnoticed in the bustle, had been lost in the darkness.

  Two hours later the steamboat--the sole survivor of the three boatsthat had left the ship--ran alongside the _Portchester Castle_.

  "By Jove, Osborne!" exclaimed Captain M'Bride, who in his anxiety hadremained all night on deck. "What has happened?"

  "They were properly on the alert, sir," replied the Lieutenant. "Wewere trapped, and were unable to accomplish our mission. However, wefell in with a Turkish torpedo-boat, engaged her, and compelled thecrew to abandon ship. On the return run we again fell in with thetorpedo-boat, took possession, and towed her until relieved by one ofour destroyers."

  "That evens things up a bit," remarked the skipper. "And the cutterand the whaler?"

  "Had to be abandoned, sir. They found themselves on the wrong side ofa boom."

  "And our casualties?"

  "Mr. Webb wounded, Mr. Haynes wounded slightly. Five men killed andnine wounded, and----"

  "And----?" repeated Captain M'Bride.

  "Laddie missing, sir," continued Osborne.

 
Percy F. Westerman's Novels