The Wireless Officer

  CHAPTER XXXII

  The Dhow

  Mostyn was the first to board the succouring craft. Somewhat dubiousas to the nature of his reception, he swarmed up the low side andgained the deck.

  His arrival elicited no demonstrations, either of friendliness orhostility, from the white-robed Arabs. They simply looked at himwithout visible signs of curiosity; without even the formal salaam.

  There were five of the dhow's crew. Four, who had been attending tothe lowering of the sails, were standing amidships; the fifth, amild-looking, bearded man of more than average height, was at the long,curved tiller. Save for his swarthy skin he might have passed for aEuropean, for his features were regular, his nose aquiline, and hislips red and without the fullness of the typical African. He wore thewhite "jebbah" and burnous, the only dash of colour being his redMorocco slippers. In his white sash could be seen the leather-coveredhilt of a long knife.

  "English," explained Peter. "Wrecked--want passage."

  The Arab shook his head gravely, and motioned to Mostyn to get the restof the boat's party on board.

  "Mahmed!" sang out his master.

  "Sahib?"

  "You speak Swahili. Tell this man who we are and what we want."

  Mahmed came over the side and approached the Arab captain. Apparentlythe former's attempt to speak Swahili was far from fluent, but thedesired result was obtained.

  "He for Dar-es-Salaam, Sahib," explained Mahmed "He promise passage onehundred rupees a head."

  "He'll get it," replied Peter. "We'll give him one thousand rupees ifhe puts into Pangawani."

  The Arab rejected the amendment. He was willing enough to give them apassage, but he was not going to put into an intermediate port even forthe inducement of an addition three hundred rupees.

  Preston was the next to board the dhow. He managed it practicallyunaided, for his lower limbs were regaining strength, and he was ableto use his left arm. The Arabs showed considerable interest at hisbandaged head, the captain going to the length of inquiring of Mahmedhow the injuries were caused.

  Mrs. Shallop and Olive followed.

  The two lascars completed the transhipment. They brought with them thescanty personal belongings of the party, together with the water-beakerand the rest of the provisions.

  "Tell him we are ready to cast off," said Peter.

  Mahmed translated. The Arab skipper went to the side and cast enviouslooks at the boat, for from the deck of the dhow the damaged plankingwas not visible. With an instinct not confined to dhow-owners he wasloth to abandon a craft that Providence had figuratively thrust intohis hands; but upon consideration he was compelled to admit that thegift was too unwieldy. Nevertheless, since he was unable to make useof the boat, he was determined not to give others a chance of so doing.

  At his order a couple of Arabs, armed with knives and small-headedaxes, jumped into the boat. After removing the compass, oars, masts,and remaining sails, and all other loose gear, they cut the gunwalethrough to the water-line, regaining their own craft as the waterpoured through the jagged rent. The painter was cut as close to theboat as it was possible for a man to reach from the dhow, and the _WestBarbican's_ boat, her mission accomplished nobly in spite ofdifficulties, drifted slowly astern in a water-logged condition. Then,the lateen sails rehoisted, the dhow resumed her course, hauling closeto the wind on the starboard tack, her head pointing practicallynor'-west-by-north. For the best part of an hour the survivors of the_West Barbican_ remained on deck, no attempt being made on the part ofthe Arabs to offer them accommodation and shelter below. The captainhad handed over the helm to one of the crew, and with the other threemen was squatting on the deck. There was apparently no socialdistinction between the Arab skipper and his crew. They were eating_pilau_ from a common dish, and talking loudly, as if oblivious of thepresence of the "Kafirs" and the three Moslem members of the rescuedparty.

  At length Peter thought it was time to assert himself on behalf of hiscompanions. It was scant comfort to have to grill upon the deck of thedhow, for the sails provided little shelter from the fierce rays of thesun.

  Calling to Mahmed to accompany him, Mostyn made for the short laddergiving access to the steeply shelving poop.

  Seeing Peter's intention the Arab captain stood up and warned theintruder off, at the same time talking angrily to the Indianinterpreter.

  "Tell the accursed Kafir not to set foot upon the ladder," was what hesaid, but translated by Mahmed the message was, "The sahib is kindlyasked not to approach while the crew are having a meal."

  Which was unfortunate. Out of deference to Arab customs Peter compliedwith the request. The captain took it for a sign of weakness on theEnglishman's part. Had Mahmed translated literally, Mostyn would havebeen on his guard. It would have been clear that the Arab had not anyintention of setting the party ashore at Dar-es-Salaam or at any otherport where the British flag was flying, otherwise he would never havedared to insult a man who was quite capable of turning the tables onhim on arrival at a place within the sphere of British influence.

  Mostyn waited more or less patiently until the _pilau_-eating party hadbroken up. Then he again approached the Arab skipper, who was nowstanding at the head of the poop ladder.

  The Arab avoided a reply to the direct request for shelter by demandingimmediate payment of the seven hundred rupees.

  "Tell him," said Peter, "that the money will be paid directly we arriveat Dar-es-Salaam."

  A faint smile fluttered over the Arab's olivine features.

  "Has the Kafir the money with him?" he asked.

  "That has nothing to do with the bargain," replied Peter, through hisinterpreter. "He will be paid promptly and in full when he has carriedout his part of the deal, but for that sum we must have suitableaccommodation."

  For a while the Arab looked decidedly sulky. Then, with another smile,he gave a perfunctory salaam and shouted an order to two of his crew.

  The latter promptly disappeared under the poopdeck, where they spentsome time shifting gear from one place to another.

  When at length they reappeared, the captain led Mostyn to a fairlyspacious but low-roofed cabin on the port side of the dhow, andimmediately abaft the poop bulkhead.

  "That will do for the women," thought Peter. "Now for a place where wecan sling our hammocks."

  His request through Mahmed for additional accommodation was curtlyturned down on the score that it was impossible. Already two of theArabs had been turned out of their quarters to make room for the Kafirs.

  "We won't kick up a shine over that," decided Peter. "Preston and Ican have a shelter on deck. We have a right to make use of our ownsails. I suppose the women will be safe down here? No lock on thedoor, but I can show Olive how to jamb it with the blade of an oar.Now there are the lascars to fix up."

  That difficulty was quickly settled, the two lascars agreeing to theArab's suggestion that they should take possession of a small cuddyfor'ard, access to which was gained by a small, square hatch justfor'ard of the raking foremast. Mahmed, at his own request, was toremain with his master and Preston.

  Olive and Mrs. Shallop were duly shown the quarters assigned to them.The latter, for a wonder, raised no objection to the place. Petercould not help thinking that perhaps her overbearing nature had beenthoroughly cowed by the rebuff she had met with on re-embarking in theboat.

  It was Olive who took exception to the place.

  "I think, if you don't mind," she said, "I'll get you to rig me up ashelter on deck. It's rather stuffy down there for two. You have noobjection, I hope, Mrs. Shallop?"

  "Not in the least," replied the lady loftily. "It's nothing to do withme. You can please yourself."

  "Thank you," said the girl promptly.

  Peter concurred. Although he was curious to know why Olive should haveobjection to the cabin--it had been swept out--he refrained from askingwhy. He could only come to the conclusion that Olive was reluctant tobe in her late employer's company more tha
n was actually necessary.

  "It was stuffy down there," declared the girl. "No scuttle--I'd muchprefer a canvas screen on deck."

  The rest of the day passed uneventfully. About four in the afternoonland was seen broad on the starboard beam. What land it was Peter hadno idea. The Arabs were silent upon the subject. Preston couldadvance no suggestion beyond the theory that it might be Cape St. Mary,on the southernmost extremity of Madagascar.

  "If so, old man, we were all out of it," he added. "On the course wewere steering we would have missed the whole island. Strange thingshappen at sea."

  At sunset the Arab crew turned their faces towards Mecca and prostratedthemselves on the deck. In their acts of devotion they were joined bythe lascars.

  "Black heathens!" snorted Mrs. Shallop contemptuously, laughing loudly.

  It was the act of an uneducated fool. People of that type, both maleand female, have done so before to-day, often with serious results tothemselves and others.

  "For Heaven's sake shut up!" hissed Preston apprehensively. "You mayget a knife across your throat for this."

  Peter too felt far from comfortable when the Arabs regained their feet.There could not have been the slightest doubt that they had heard themocking laugh, and had there been trouble the lascars would have heldaloof, or even have sided with their co-religionists. But, grave andinscrutable, the crew of the dhow carried on as if the unseemlyinterruption was beneath their notice.

  "I think I'll keep watch to-night after this," said Peter.

  "P'raps 'twould be as well," agreed Preston. "That woman is a perfectcurse--I'm not much use, but I'll take a trick. If there's any sign ofmischief I can give you a shout. Got your automatic handy?"

  "Rather."

  "Pity you hadn't shown it, off-handed like," continued the ActingChief. "A little moral persuasion of that description goes a long waywith these gentry. I remember once getting into a jolly tight cornerat Port Said. It was my own fault to a great extent, but I was only anirresponsible 'prentice in those days. I shifted a dozen low-downArabs with the stem of a pipe. They thought it was a six-shooter.It's as likely as not that our friend the skipper has spotted thatbulge in your hip pocket."

  "And taken it for a purse with a thousand rupees in it," added Peter."Yes, I think I'll have to keep my weather eye lifting."

  Preston and the Wireless Officer had rigged up a canvas shelteramidships, spreading the covering ridge-wise on a gantline stretchedbetween the mainmast and the for'ard end of the hatch. The hatch was alarge one, measuring roughly thirty feet by ten, and was covered withcanvas held down by bamboo battens. This, with the tent, took up thegreater part of the deck space amidships.

  Farther aft, but on the centre line, a tent made from the boat's mizzensail had been set up for Olive's use. Provided the weather remainedfairly quiet it formed quite a sheltered and comfortable retreat.

  The Arab captain had raised no objections to the execution of thisplan, although it had been carried out without his sanction. Peter andMahmed had set up the shelters without any hesitation. The former was,indeed, prepared to assert his right to do so in consideration of thefact that he had not pressed his claim for more accommodation under thepoop-deck.

  It was late before Mostyn turned in. For quite an hour he had stood ondeck with Olive, watching the moon sinking lower and lower in theheavens until it dipped beneath the horizon.

  Peter gave no hint to the girl of his misgivings, nor did Olive referto her reasons for refusing to share the cabin with Mrs. Shallop.After all, knowing the lady, he was not surprised at the culturedgirl's reluctance to be in her company more than was absolutelynecessary.

  At about ten o'clock Peter bade the girl good night. Creeping in underthe flap of his shelter he found Preston fast asleep on one side of thedeck-space and Mahmed, equally somnolent, lying right across theentrance. He stirred as Peter made his way over him, but instantlyfell asleep again.

  "Fortunately I'm not sleepy," thought Mostyn, as he settled himselfupon his share of the rough bedding, which consisted of oilskin coatsand a rafia mat.

  On deck all was quiet, save for the occasional creaking of the blocksand the ripple of water at the dhow's bows. With the exception of thehelmsman the Arab crew had gone below before Peter had retired to hisshelter-tent. The lascars had also retired to their assigned quartersfor'ard.

  The night was calm and sultry. At twelve the solitary watch on deckwas relieved; it apparently being the custom on board the dhow for thehelmsmen to work three hour-tricks both by day and night.

  Peter heard the two men talking for a few minutes in a low tone; thenthe Arab off duty went below, his slippers pattering softly on the deck.

  Another hour passed. Nothing of an unusual nature happened. Mostynbegan to wonder whether his precautions had been in vain. He wasfeeling a bit sleepy by this time, but he had no desire to arouse hisinjured companion. He was content to take Preston's word for the deed,but if he were to keep awake he simply must have some fresh air.

  With this purpose in view Peter crept cautiously across the sleepingMahmed, drew aside the flap of the tent, and gained the open air. Itwas now a fairly bright starlit night. The cool breeze thrummedtunefully through the scanty rigging, gently filling the huge,triangular, lateen sails. The foot of the mainsail was cut so low thatfrom where Mostyn stood, just abaft of the foremast, the shelving poopwas hidden from view.

  Bareheaded and lightly-clad he grasped one of the weather-shrouds anddrunk in great draughts of the ozone-laden air. He realized the reliefof being no longer responsible for the safety of his charges, so far asseamanship and navigation were concerned. Day after day, night afternight in an open boat had considerably dimmed his ardour for exercisingcommand.

  After a while he wanted a cigarette, but remembered that he had lefthis share in the breast-pocket of his drill tunic.

  "Better be turning in again," he soliloquized, with visions of malariain his mind. "It's rather a risky game hanging about here."

  Even as he turned to regain the shelter a shriek rent the air. Lessthan ten feet from where he stood were a couple of Arabs kneelingbeside the collapsed tent. One was holding the canvas down with handsand feet, while the other, knife in hand, was raining furious blowsupon the defenceless and sleeping men pinned beneath.