CHAPTER VII

  Rammed

  THE echoes of the explosion had scarce died away when the_Portchester Castle_ turned and steamed back to pick up her twoboats. She was still about two miles off, and nearly three times thatdistance from the receding _Two-Step_.

  The crews of the cutter and the whaler were busily engaged in coilingaway the undamaged grass ropes. The connecting span had, of course,been blown to bits by the detonation. Both boats had to be baled out,for a quantity of water hurled skywards by the exploded mines hadfallen into the little craft. Webb's command was flooded to a depthof a couple of inches over the bottom boards, while the whaler hadconsiderably more water in her.

  "Look astern, sir!" exclaimed the coxswain of the cutter.

  The Sub glanced across his shoulder. The sea in the vicinity had nowalmost regained its mirror-like aspect, but in the directionindicated by the petty officer its surface was rippled by a tell-taleswell, as if some large object were moving slowly at a considerabledepth.

  "Stand by, lads!" ordered Webb. "Oars!"

  The blades had barely touched the water when, at a distance of lessthan five yards from the cutter, appeared the twin periscopes of asubmarine--this time the genuine article.

  The U-boat, for such she was, had been lurking in the vicinity of thedecoy. Her kapitan had seen the approach of the _Portchester Castle_and the tramp, and feeling confident that the booby periscope wouldbe noticed, had remained to watch the effect of the Englanders'curiosity.

  On hearing the explosion he wrongly concluded that the experiment hadnot been a successful one, as far as the inquisitive vessel wasconcerned; and after a brief interval he ordered the U-boat to thesurface, with the intention of gloating over the sinking of yetanother strafed English ship.

  "Back port--pull starboard!" ordered Webb.

  Almost in her own length the cutter swung round until she laybroadside on to the appearing periscopes, which were still forgingahead and momentarily showing higher and higher above the surface.

  Drawing his revolver the Sub took steady aim at almost point-blankrange. It was practically impossible to miss. The mirrors on the topof the periscope were shattered. The next instant, the foremost metalpipe of the now blinded submarine was grinding against the cutter'sgunwale.

  "Cutter ahoy!" shouted Haynes.

  "THE SUBMARINE WAS NOW IN AN AWKWARD PLIGHT"]

  The whaler was now a hundred yards off, and the cutter lay betweenher and the still submerged U-boat. Haynes had heard the doublereport of the revolver shots, and was at a loss to account forWebb's seemingly inexplicable act.

  "Come alongside as hard as you can!" shouted Webb; then addressingthe bowman of the cutter he ordered: "A couple of hitches with yourpainter, man."

  The bowman acted promptly. In a few seconds the cutter had swunground and was being urged at a steady rate through the water with herpainter made fast to the foremost of the damaged periscopes.

  Haynes, too, had now grasped the situation. The whaler, urged at thegreatest speed by the rowers, was quickly on the spot. Her painterwas then secured to the aftermost periscope.

  The two Subs were now keenly on the alert for further developments.The point to consider was whether the U-boat would attempt tocontinue to ascend, or make a frantic effort to submerge completely.In the former case both boats would have to be trimmed by the head tocounteract the lifting power of the invisible submarine; in thelatter case all hands, with the exception of the bowman, would haveto crowd aft in order to impart the greatest buoyancy to the for'ardportion of the boats.

  The submarine was now in an awkward plight. In spite of the fact thather displacement was something in the neighbourhood of six hundredtons she had little reserve of buoyancy, represented by the weight ofwater in her ballast tanks. Against this she was hampered by the twoboats, the cutter weighing a little over a ton without her crew andgear, and the whaler supplying a dead weight of nearly half that ofher consort.

  The U-boat dare not rise. To do so, even if she were capable of thefact with the two "millstones" literally hanging round her neck, shewould be running an unknown risk, since she was unaware of the natureof the obstruction. Nor could she dive with safety. Before she couldadmit sufficient water ballast to make her heavy enough to swamp thetwo boats, the strain would wrench the periscopes from thesubmarine's hull. In spite of the intricate valves, the wrenchimparted to her mechanism would make it an impossibility to preventquantities of water entering the interior, and send the U-boat downfor good and all.

  "We've got her, old man!" explained Haynes joyously.

  "And she's got us, too," replied Webb. "Sort of marine game of beggarmy neighbour."

  Haynes was certainly right, and so was his brother officer. Until the_Portchester Castle_ arrived to render assistance the struggle lookedlike being a dead heat, unless----

  Yes, Webb knew that there was an "unless"--a mighty unpleasant one.There was a possibility that the U-boat's skipper would notsurrender. Rather he would explode the war-heads of the torpedoesstill within the hull, and send the submarine to instant destruction,at the same time involving the annihilation of the two boats andtheir crews.

  At all costs Webb determined to "stand fast", but it was with mingledfeelings of elation and apprehension that he regarded the shadowyoutlines of his "capture", as the enormous hull showed dimly attwelve feet beneath the surface. Air bubbles broke upon the slightlyagitated waves as the U-boat strove either to "sound" or break awayand rise awash. At intervals her twin screws churned the water,sometimes going ahead and sometimes astern, with the result that thecutter and the whaler crashed gunwale to gunwale half a dozen timesin twice as many minutes. Only the skilful and strenuous endeavoursof their crews prevented the strongly-built sides from collapsinglike shattered egg-shells.

  All this while the _Portchester Castle_ was bearing down upon theboats. Captain M'Bride knew that something unusual was taking place.The erratic movements of the two craft told him that, but he was at aloss to understand the reason.

  "Cutter ahoy!" came a hail through a megaphone from the armedmerchantman's bridge.

  "What are you foul of?"

  One of the boat's crew, producing two handflags, dexterously balancedhimself upon one of the thwarts.

  "Hooked a submarine, sir," he reported.

  "How does she lie?" was the skipper's next question.

  "Bows away from you, sir; her stern's swinging on to your port bow."

  This knowledge was of importance, for, although the U-boat was blind,it was just possible that her crew might discharge a torpedo on theoff chance of the missile getting home.

  "Stand by to cast off roundly," came the next order from the_Portchester Castle_. "I'm going to ram her aft."

  "Now for it," thought Tom Webb. "If we're not in the ditch within thenext fifty seconds I'll be very much mistaken."

  The Sub had barely expressed himself thus, when with a quivering jerkthe U-boat shot above the surface, exposing the whole of the afterpart of the conning-tower, although the fore part was still beneaththe surface. She was so down by the head that the blades of her sternhydroplanes were visible. Realizing that it was touch-and-go, theGerman skipper had released the emergency metal keel with which thesecraft are equipped.

  Owing to their short painters, the cutter and the whaler were swungin close alongside the rounded hull, their bows hoisted clear of thewater by the terrific strain upon their bow ropes.

  Several of their crews had been flung upon the bottom boards andstern-sheets, while streams of water from the U-boat's deckthreatened to swamp the frail craft alongside.

  Instantly the after hatch of the submarine was flung open, and,headed by a stout, fair-haired _leutnant_, the German crew armed withrevolvers began to pour through the narrow opening on to the U-boat'sdecks.

  There was no indication on their part of a wish to surrender. It wasevidently going to be a hand-to-hand scrap 'twixt British andGermans.

  The submarine's officer had taken in part of the situation a
t aglance. Shouting to a couple of hands to cut the painters, he led therest of the men in a headlong rush towards the two boats, the Hunsopening a hot but erratic fire from their small-arms. Unfortunatelyfor him the _leutnant_ had not noticed in his haste the _PortchesterCastle's_ approach, until a warning shout from one of the Germansrevealed the immediate danger.

  The attack stopped immediately. Throwing down their revolvers theHuns raised their hands above their heads, shouting "Mercy, kamerad!"at the fullest pitch of their lungs, some directing their appealtowards the British seamen in the boats, others towards the vengefulmerchant-cruiser.

  "Cast off!" shouted Webb. "Back, men, for all you're worth."

  Deftly the bowman of the cutter severed the painter. With a flop theboat's bows slid down the bulging sides of the submarine, and, backedby the vigorous efforts of half a dozen rowers, drew away from thedoomed pirate.

  No human effort on the part of Captain M'Bride could now avert thework of destruction that the _Portchester Castle_ had alreadyattempted. It was impossible to check the momentum of thousands oftons of metal, moving at fifteen knots through the water; nor could achange of helm be effected in time to allow the ship to glideharmlessly astern. Hulling the U-boat's side at a distance of aboutfifty feet from her stern, the _Portchester Castle's_ sharp bows cutcompletely through the doomed craft. The after part sank like astone; the major portion rolling over until the top of theconning-tower dipped beneath the surface, floated for nearly thirtyseconds, emitting air, oil, and petrol, and disappeared from view.

  This much Tom Webb saw; then in front of his field of vision appearedthe towering hull of the armed merchantman as she tore past. Caughtbetween the vortex caused by the sunken U-boat and the sharp-crestedwave from her destroyer's bow, the cutter was completely overset, andin the midst of a smother of foam the Sub found himself swimming fordear life.

 
Percy F. Westerman's Novels