CHAPTER XIV

  Submarined

  OF what happened during the next few minutes Sub-lieutenant Tom Webbhad but a hazy confused idea. The reverberations of the tremendousdetonation were straining his ear-drums almost to bursting-point.Wreaths of pungent smoke, caught by the vicious blasts that eddiedover the deck, obliterated everything from his vision and made himgasp for breath like a drowning man. His brain seemed benumbed by theconcussion, his legs were on the point of giving way until he almostunconsciously grasped a guard-rail within arm's length.

  Gradually he began to realize that disaster had overtaken the ship.He was aware of men rushing hither and thither, some shouting, othersalmost as dazed as himself. The _Portchester Castle_ was listingheavily to starboard. Mingled with the tumult on deck, the howling ofthe wind, the hiss of escaping steam, and the slap of the viciousseas, came the unmistakable sound of volumes of water rushing inthrough the enormous rent in the ship's bottom, caused by theexplosion of the torpedo.

  "By Jove, Billy!" exclaimed Dacres in his customary drawl; "we'vepulled off a double event. Torpedoed twice within twenty-four hours,eh, what?"

  Before Fane could reply a bugle-call rang out sharply. It was the"Still". Instantly the turmoil of humanity ceased. As steady as if ata ceremonial inspection the men stood at attention until "CollisionQuarters" brought the ship's company into a state of disciplinedactivity.

  The _Portchester Castle_ was doomed. All on board realized the fact.In spite of the terrific seas a German submarine had "stood by" the_Sunderbund's_ life-boat, keeping submerged at a distance sufficientto prevent any of the liner's survivors "spotting" the pole-likeperiscopes as they appeared at intervals above the waves.

  The Hun skipper of the U-boat had caught the wireless appeal from thestricken _Sunderbund_. He knew that aid would be speedilyforthcoming, and setting aside all dictates of humanity, he had lain_perdu_ for the opportunity of yet a further display of"frightfulness".

  He was not mistaken in his conjecture. He had witnessed from afar therescue of the _Sunderbund's_ life-boat, and awaiting his chance hadapproached within torpedo range while the attention of the_Portchester Castle's_ crew was directed towards the hoisting in ofthe steamboat and the reception of the survivors of his previousvictim. And now the armed merchant-cruiser, with a rent twenty feetin length, was settling down. Her strained water-tight bulkheads wereunable to withstand the enormous pressure. It was merely a matter ofminutes before the _Portchester Castle_ would make her final plunge.

  Captain M'Bride, though cool and collected, realized the gravity ofthe situation. Apart from the danger of lowering boats in that angrysea, the great list of the ship rendered practically impossible theuse of the boats on the port side.

  There was one chance: that of making for the inhospitable Africanshore in the hope that the ship would ground. In that case her crewcould remain on board until rescue was forthcoming; or, in the eventof the vessel breaking up, there would be a chance of taking to theboats and effecting a landing under the lee of the stranded hull.

  By this time Webb had recovered his normal state of mind, and wasdirecting the provisioning and arming of some of the boats. Osbornewas on the fo'c'sle, superintending the clearing away of the anchors,so that on approaching the shore the stricken vessel could be thrownbroadside on to the waves. Haynes and other officers were engaged inassisting the men to make rafts and getting provisions and water fromthe store-rooms.

  Every member of the ship's company had donned a life-belt; thesurvivors of the _Sunderbund_, who had only just discarded theirlife-saving gear, had to put their belts on once more. Theirs was ahard case, since they were almost exhausted with the privations theyhad previously undergone; yet they made a brave show of spirit thatis typical of the Briton in a tight corner.

  Presently the starboard engine gave out. The stokehold was floodedand the fires damped. Within a few minutes the port engines followedsuit, and although still carrying way the _Portchester Castle_gradually slowed down. Her head fell off, and she wallowed in thetrough of the breakers.

  By this time her rail on the starboard side was only a few feet abovewater. She was deep down by the stern, her bows being correspondinglyhigh. The very lifelessness of the ship, in spite of the enormouswaves, showed that the end was not far off.

  "Lower away!" shouted the skipper through a megaphone.

  Smartly, but without undue haste or confusion, the boats in thedavits on the starboard side were lowered. The first to disengagefrom the falls was the second cutter. Barely had she cast off when aterrific sea caught and completely capsized her. Half a dozen of hercrew succeeded in catching hold of life-lines thrown by theircomrades on board the ship, and were hauled on board again. Some weretrapped underneath the upturned boat, others, supported by thelife-belts, were swept shorewards through the chaos of surf and foam.

  The remaining boats on the starboard side got away without accident;then, owing possibly to the amount of water that had poured into theship's engine-rooms and holds, the _Portchester Castle_ swung back onan even keel.

  Captain M'Bride saw his chance--and took it.

  "Let go both anchors!" he shouted.

  With a rattle and a roar the steel cables rushed through thehawse-pipes, and presently, the vessel's drive to leeward beingchecked, she swung round, with her bows pointing diagonally for theshore.

  Now was the opportunity to man and lower the boats on the port side.Osborne, his work on deck accomplished, took charge of one, Webb ofanother; and with only the loss of a couple of oars which weresmashed against the ship's side the frail craft took the water.

  "Look out, she's going!" exclaimed a score of voices.

  Which was a fact. The end had come suddenly. With a decided movementthe ship's bows slid under water; her stern reared perhaps twentyfeet clear of the waves. Webb could see those of the crew who had nottime to take to the boats struggling waist-deep in the surging waterere they were swept clear of the foundering vessel. On the bridgestood the gallant skipper, true to the long-established and gloriouscustom of the sea. Until the last man had left the ship his place wason the bridge.

  He made no effort to save himself. Gripping the guard-rail he stooderect, his attention directed towards those of his ship's company whohad hesitated to trust themselves to swim ashore.

  "Pull to leeward, men," ordered Webb. "We may even yet pick up ourskipper."

  Even as he spoke the _Portchester Castle_ ceased to sink. She hadgrounded in about eight or nine fathoms of water, leaving her bridgeand a portion of the spar-deck still showing above the waves.

  Those still on board were quick to recognize the change of fortune.Some made their way to the bridge, others clambered into thelee-rigging, until the shrouds were black with humanity.

  All the boats were turning back. Those from the starboard side weresufficiently loaded to endanger their safety should more men crowdinto them; but those lowered from the port side had not been able totake their full complement before the vessel sank. On the latter,then, fell the task of rescuing the skipper and the remaining men,while the other boats contented themselves with picking up a fewsurvivors who had been carried clear when the _Portchester Castle's_decks had been swept by the breakers.

  By dint of hard pulling, in spite of the shelter afforded by the leeof the stranded ship, Osborne contrived to get his boat within a fewyards of the bridge. At one moment the projecting platform wastowering twenty feet or more above the boat, at the next the latter'sgunwales were almost level with it. All the while there was thepressing danger of the boat's bows being jammed against the undersideof the bridge, or of her bottom subsiding, with disastrous results,upon the iron-work projecting from the submerged sides of the ship.

  In Webb's case the task was simpler, though by no means free fromdanger. Watching his opportunity he ran close alongside the resilientmain-shrouds, and succeeded in taking on board every man who hadfound a temporary refuge in that part of the rigging. He was now ableto ride to leeward of the wreck by means of a long
scope of cable,thus conserving the energies of the rowers until the hazardous dashthrough the surf to the shore.

  The Sub could not help admiring the skill with which his chum Osbornewent about his work, keeping the boat within a few feet of the bridgeas the former rose on the waves. One by one the men leapt into therescuing craft until only the skipper remained.

  Then raising his hand in a last salute to the ship's white ensign,which was still visible between the crests of the waves, CaptainM'Bride jumped agilely into the stern-sheets of the boat.

 
Percy F. Westerman's Novels