Under the White Ensign: A Naval Story of the Great War

  CHAPTER XXIV

  The Chase of the Felucca

  "STRANGE sail bearing N.N.E. seven miles: No. 0916 will proceed andinvestigate." This was the reading of a signal hoisted on the_Fleetwing_ within four hours of the destruction of the submarine.

  The sea-plane carrier and her convoy had now entered the southernlimits of the AEgean Sea. Broad on the port quarter could bediscerned the rugged outlines of the Grecian peninsula, while aheadwere the distant Cyclades, a veritable jumble of small islands, mostof which are well-known names in ancient history, when Greece wasGreece--a resolute and hardy nation compared with which the modernGreek nation is as clay in relation to steel.

  It was now towards Milos, the nearmost of these islands, that a smallfelucca-rigged craft was making. Had she held on her former course,which was N.N.W., she might not have aroused the suspicions of the_Fleetwing's_ officer of the watch; but on sighting the lofty hull ofthe sea-plane carrier the felucca had promptly hauled to the wind.That in itself was a strange manoeuvre, since the wind was in aquarter that enabled her to have a leading breeze on her formercourse.

  "Let her rip!" ordered Osborne, addressing the motorengineer-artificer. "We want to get this job over before dark, ifpossible. I suppose," he added in an aside to his chum, "it's onlyanother wild-goose chase."

  "We're generally lucky," rejoined Webb the optimist. "However, Ishouldn't think that yonder craft is likely to cause trouble. Myword, isn't she footing it!"

  The last sentence referred to the patrol-boat, which was now cleavingthe tranquil waters at a knot above the contract speed. Her powerfulmotors had been running sufficiently to enable them to be "tuned up"to perfection. She was overhauling the felucca hand over fist.

  Upon seeing the unwanted motor craft approach, the sailing vessel,knowing that escape by flight was out of the question, fell off onher former course, at the same time hoisting her colours. By the aidof their binoculars Osborne and Webb made the simultaneous discoverythat the felucca was a Greek--or at any rate that was the nationalityshe wished to assume for the present.

  "By Jove, they're heaving something overboard!" declared the Sub. "Idistinctly saw splashes under her counter. Wonder if they are mines?"

  "I'm sorry for those fellows if that is the case," said Osbornegrimly. "At any rate, if we don't follow in her wake we're safeenough. Other questions dealing with the matter will be tackledlater."

  Apparently the crew of the felucca were particularly anxious for theobjects they had thrown overboard to sink; for, finding that a coupleof almost waterlogged bales were floating astern, one of the menleapt overboard and slashed furiously at them with a knife. Then, histask accomplished, finding that he could not overtake the sailingcraft, he struck out for the distant shore.

  "Think he'll do it?" enquired Webb. "It's a fearful long way."

  "Yes, I do," replied Osborne. "These Levanters are splendid swimmers,and the sea is particularly warm. He's good for ten miles, I shouldsay. However, on second thoughts, I think we'll pick him up, and thendevote our attentions to the felucca."

  The swimmer, finding that the patrol-boat had altered helm and washeading in his direction, took in the situation most philosophically.Treading water he awaited the approach of his captors, and, graspinga rope thrown to him, swarmed on board with the greatest agility.

  "Me think you German ship," he explained nonchalantly.

  As he stood dripping on the deck his face was towards the settingsun. On the other hand, the two officers who were confronting himwere standing back to the dazzling light.

  "Oh, indeed!" rejoined Osborne, signing to two of the crew to standby. "German ship? No, you won't get me to swallow that yarn, GeorgeosHymettus."

  At the sound of his name the Greek started violently, and made anattempt to throw himself overboard. In this he nearly succeeded. For,as he had divested himself of his clothing as far as the waist inorder to swim the better, his wet skin afforded little hold. After abrief yet furious struggle he was secured and taken below.

  By this time the felucca was less than two cables' lengths ahead. Hercrew must have observed the struggle on the patrol-boat's deck.Without waiting to be hailed, they promptly lowered the huge lateensails and awaited their captor's approach.

  "Now what's all this running-away business about?" enquired theLieutenant, addressing a gaudily dressed Greek who was evidently theskipper. "Where are your papers? Where's your passenger list? I findyou had a passenger," he added significantly.

  The master disappeared into a small deck-house abaft the mainmast.Webb, revolver in hand, followed.

  Meanwhile the two dozen ruffianly-looking fellows who formed thefelucca's crew--she carried an unusually large complement--had gonefor'ard, and were standing in a group around the primitive windlass.Amidships were Osborne and two of the patrol-boat's crew. Two morewere standing on No. 0916's deck, fending her off with boat-hooks.The remaining members of the crew were down below in the motor-room.

  Suddenly the muffled report of a revolver shot rang out, and a momentlater Webb reappeared, holding the still smoking revolver, and withhis left hand clasped firmly against his mouth. He was gaspingheavily, while his eyes were twitching with pain. By his movementshis chum saw that he was incapable of seeing.

  "This way, Tom!" shouted Osborne. He could not go to the aid of hischum, for, with the report of the pistol shot, the rest of the crewof the felucca made a concerted rush upon the handful of British.Flourishing their knives and uttering wild yells, in the hope ofstriking terror into the breasts of their numerically inferiorantagonists, they came tearing aft, headed by a tall,broad-shouldered man brandishing an automatic pistol.

  Osborne and his men stood their ground. But for the fact that Webbhad been temporarily rendered incapable, they would have retired tothe deck of the patrol-boat, sheered off, and made good use of theirquick-firers. Until the Sub's rescue was assured, his comrades had tomake good their front.

  An excellent shot from Osborne's revolver brought the mate of thefelucca sprawling on his face. Three others of the crew were stoppedby the British fire, but even then the rush was maintained, two ofthe Greeks making in the direction of the hapless Sub, who wasgroping towards his comrades.

  With a bound Osborne gained Webb's side, grasping his shoulder withhis left hand. At the same time he dropped one of the Sub's twoassailants, while the other, making no further attempt to close,hurled his knife with deadly precision at the Lieutenant.

  Stepping adroitly aside, Osborne missed the glittering blade by ahair's-breadth. The missile, sinking a couple of inches into thehardwood tiller, quivered like a twanged harp-string. SimultaneouslyWebb's revolver dropped from his grasp.

  To retreat, leaving the weapon for the use of the enemy, was to courtdisaster. Since Osborne could not stoop to recover it without runninggrave risks of being taken unawares, he kicked the revolveroverboard, and, still holding Webb's shoulder, dragged theunresisting Sub to the side.

  Here the two seamen were still holding their own, though hardlypressed. One, bleeding from a clean cut in the left shoulder, hadalready accounted for three of his assailants. His revolver beingempty, he had snatched at a knife that was sticking in the bulwarks.His companion, using his weapon with deadly skill and precision, haddisabled four before the hammer clicked ineffectually upon the emptychamber.

  Grasped by the coxswain of the patrol-boat, Webb was hauledunceremoniously on board his own craft. Now remained the task of therest of the boarding-party, to regain the deck of No. 0916 withoutgiving the felucca's men a chance of rushing them during theretrograde movement.

  At this critical juncture the bowman of the patrol-boat created adiversion. Taking a turn with the bight of a rope in order to holdthe two vessels, the seaman sprang to the felucca's deck, brandishingthe gun-metal-tipped boat-hook. Under the formidable blows dealt bythe hefty bluejacket, the Greeks went down like ninepins. Knives wereas nought when opposed to the powerfully wielded pole of ash. Headswere cracked like egg-shells, arms snapped like match-sticks,
andshin-bones broken like glass under the shower of blows. Even in hiswork of self-defence Osborne could not help admiring thebusiness-like work of his stalwart coxswain.

  The struggle was over. Osborne, well-nigh breathless with hisexertions, was compelled to lean against the wall of the deck-house.Those of the seamen who had come out of the ordeal practicallyunscathed, busied themselves by collecting the knives of thevanquished crew of the felucca, and securing the treacherous Greekswho had not been reduced to a state of unconsciousness orhelplessness. One by one the prisoners were passed below into therecesses of the felucca's hold, the hatches were clapped on, and theBritish white ensign hoisted in place of the mercantile flag of atreacherous and effete nation.

  By this time darkness was on the point of setting in. The shortperiod of twilight was giving place to intense darkness, for therewas no moon and the stars were obscured by opaque clouds. The_Fleetwing_ and the rest of the patrol-boats were already lost tosight.

  Having recovered his breath, the Lieutenant went on board No. 0916.He found Webb lying on deck, his head supported by a bundle ofsailcloth, and one of the bluejackets bathing his face withsea-water.

  "How goes it, old man?" enquired Osborne.

  "Better now," replied 'Webb, striving somewhat ineffectually to forcea smile. "That brute suddenly threw something in my face--ammonia, Ifancy. Just had time to fire my revolver, and then I found myselfgasping for breath. Felt as if my throat was gripped by pincers, andmy eyes were completely bunged up. Yes, thanks, I can see, but it'sstill mighty painful. How's the Greek skipper?"

  "Dead as a bloomin' door-nail, sir," volunteered the seaman who wasassiduously attending to the injured Sub. "You plugged him properly,sir. Served the swine right, I'll allow."

  "S'pose so," admitted Webb. "I wonder what it was that those fellowshove overboard?"

  "I wonder," rejoined Osborne. "We may find out yet, especially as wehave our old pal Georgeos Hymettus laid by the heels. Well, old man,excuse me; I've a lot to attend to."

  And Osborne spoke without exaggeration. Here he was, with some of hisscanty crew disabled, with a prize on his hands, and out of touchwith his parent ship, while in addition it was black night with adangerous and badly charted shore under his lee. It was "up to him"to extricate his command from the difficulties that beset her, andwith characteristic grit and determination Osborne set about histask.