CHAPTER XIV.
THE END OF THE "TERRIER"
H.M. torpedo-gunboat "Terrier" lay at anchor just within the limitsof one of the numerous shallow estuaries of the Essex Coast. By theaid of the lead-line and an Admiralty chart on too small a scale tobe of much assistance, Captain Holloway had taken his craft throughthe intricate approach channel with often less than three feet ofwater under her keel. Now she was lying head to wind, for it was highwater and no tide running, in six fathoms, and within two hundred andeighty yards of the mud-fringed shore.
The "Terrier" had spent an uneventful week on her station, patrollingher appointed limits in the North Sea without a single incident tobreak the monotony. Swept fore and aft by huge seas that her highfo'c'sle failed to ward off; plugging away in a zig-zag course dayafter day, till her grey funnels were bleached white with salt spray;with her guns' crews standing by their guns through watch and watchday and night, she was "doing her little bit" as one small unit ofthe vast, tireless navy.
A few hours previous to the torpedo gunboat's anchoring in the creek,one of the crew had with great suddenness developed appendicitis.Although the "Terrier" carried a surgeon, the case was one for ashore hospital, and as one of the Admiralty "sick-quarters" wassituated in the village at the head of the creek, Captain Hollowaydecided to land the patient with the utmost despatch.
It was blowing fairly fresh. Outside the bar the sea wasfoam-flecked. Rollers came tumbling in, breaking heavily on shore orelse expending themselves harmlessly in the creek. At her anchoragethe torpedo-gunboat was pitching slightly to the heave of the opensea.
"Do you see any sign of the boat, Mr. Aubyn?" asked Captain Holloway."Those fellows ought to be on their way back by this time."
Terence, who was officer of the watch, brought his glass to bear uponthe shore, where a cluster of red-tiled roofs, dominated by the greytower of a church, marked the position of the village--a distance ofabout a mile and a half from where the "Terrier" lay.
"Boat's still at the hard, sir," he reported. "The boat-keeper issitting in the stern sheets."
Lieutenant-Commander Holloway gave vent to a gesture of impatience.He knew from the fact that the seaman left in charge was taking iteasy that the rest of the party were not on their way back to thehard.
On board the "Terrier" the crew were taking advantage of dry decks toair their saturated clothing and bedding. The watches had just beenchanged. Down on the ill-ventilated mess-deck grimy stokers, up fromthe confined stokehold, were scrubbing themselves and changing intoclean rig. The fo'c'sle was packed with humanity. Amid the babel ofvoices Terence could detect the burr of Glorious Devon, the broadScotch of the Highlands, the staccato voice of an excitable Welshman,the rich brogue of Connemara, and the last but not least, theunmistakable Cockney accent, but one and all stout-hearted Britishseamen. The most frequent topic of conversation that drifted to thesub.'s ears as he stood on the elevated bridge was football. Some ofthe men were discussing home affairs in the blunt open fashion thatJack Tar unconsciously adopts; others were debating the prospects ofChristmas leave. As for the war, the subject was almost entirelyignored.
Once more the sub. brought his telescope to bear upon the shore.There were signs of activity on the part of the boat-keeper, soTerence came to the conclusion that the hospital party were on theirway back.
Then, with a true seaman's almost unconscious instinct he gave aglance first to windward and then towards the open sea. As he did sohe made a sudden dash to the engine-room telegraph, signalling forfull speed astern with the starboard engine and full speed ahead withthe port, at the same time shouting in stentorian tones thatelectrified the whole of the crew within hearing:--
"Submarine on the port beam!"
A bugle blared. Ere the short notes of alarm had died away CaptainHolloway was beside his subordinate on the bridge. The guns' crews ofthe two 4.7's sprang to their weapons. Clang went the breach-blocks.
"Eight hundred yards!" announced the gunner calmly, as the coppercylinders with their deadly steel heads were thrust home.
But a deadlier weapon was already on its way towards the doomed ship.A torpedo, set at its minimum depth in order to make sure that itwould not pass under the keel of its intended prey, was tearingtowards the "Terrier" with the speed of an express train.
From his position on the bridge Terence watched its rapid progress.He could do nothing beyond what he had already done. It was evidentthat before the ship could swing on her cable, under the adverseaction of her twin propellers, until she was bows on to the deadlymissile, the torpedo would hit her.
At times the gleaming steel cylinder was clear of the water betweenthe crests of the waves, yet unswerving either to right or left, itheaded with disconcerting accuracy towards the ship.
The two 4.7's clashed almost simultaneously. The shell from her bowgun, aimed at the now disappearing periscope of the hostilesubmarine, missed it by a bare yard, and ricochetting, threw up fivedistinct columns of spray ere it sunk for good and all.
The gun-layer at the after gun with admirable presence of mindlaunched a projectile at the torpedo in the hope of diverting itscourse. He made one mistake: he forgot to take into consideration therefractive properties of water, and consequently the missile struckthe surface too far in the wake of the torpedo to affect itsdirection.
"Stand clear there!" shouted the captain, seeing even in that tenseinterval that several of the men were standing by the stanchions.
There was a general rush to the starboard side to avoid the directeffect of the explosion of the "tin-fish," then a strange silencefell upon the ship's company.
"Crash!"
A hundred feet or so in the air rose a column of spray, as the deadlytorpedo exploded on the port side nearly abreast of the fo'c'sle gun.The ship literally jumped a yard or so out of the water, then with asickening thud, followed by the unmistakable sound of water pouringinto her hull, subsided heavily in the agitated foam.
With his senses practically numbed by the shock of the explosion,Terence stood stockstill, grasping the bridge rail with both hands,while unconscious of the fact he held his telescope under his arm. Hewas dimly aware of the débris flying all around him, as the slenderpole-mast, ventilators, and other heavy objects went crashing overthe side. Then, as the cloud of spray and acrid smoke dispersed hecould discern the forms of the crew as with varying speeds themajority regained their feet. A few, stunned by the concussion, werelying inertly upon the deck.
For quite ninety seconds Aubyn remained in his dazed condition. Thenhe realized that the ship was done for, and that he was still alive.Further, as an officer it was his duty to exert himself for the sakeof the men. He remembered that the captain had been on the bridge,and turning saw his superior officer standing at the head of theladder.
The captain was capless. There was blood upon his forehead. Asplinter had grazed his head, making a clean superficial wound. Thetwo men exchanged reassuring glances, then in clear, steady tonesCaptain Holloway issued an order for all hands to fall in on thequarter-deck.
The men made their way aft at the double. There was no unduescrambling or frantic haste, although the "Terrier's" raised fo'c'slewas now almost flush with the water, and her after part, where thefreeboard was nominally only five feet, was thrice that height in theair.
Up through the small awkward engine-room stokehold hatchways came the"black squad," not one man of whom had stirred from his post untilordered to do so. Knowing full well that a catastrophe had befallenthe ship, but ignorant of the actual facts, or whether she was on thepoint of making a sudden plunge to the bottom, these men had toundergo the greatest ordeal of any of the ship's company. Yet, beforemaking his dash for safety, the artificer-engineer had taken care toprevent an explosion of the boilers as the water poured into thestokehold.
Of the boats on the davits only one was fit for service. The otherswere badly strained by the explosion or damaged by the flyingdébris. The serviceable one was quickly lowered, and, althoughleaking freely, was m
anned and brought alongside.
"Pass all injured men over the side," ordered Captain Holloway. "Therest of you can make the best of your way ashore--and good luck toyou."
The crew gave three rousing cheers and prepared for the comingordeal, for although the distance to the shore was an easy swim thebitter coldness of the water had to be taken into consideration.
One by one the wounded were passed into the boat; after them as manymen as she could safely hold. The boat was ordered to lie off andrender assistance to any swimmers in difficulties.
"With your permission, sir," said Aubyn, "I'll have a look down onthe mess-deck. There may be some of the hands left below."
"Do so, by all means, Mr. Aubyn," replied his superior. "The oldboat shows no great hurry."
"I fancy she's aground for'ard, sir," said the sub. "I'll be as sharpas I can."
Descending the now almost perpendicular ladder Terence gained theshelving mess-deck. Already the water was surging over the forepart;kit-bags, tables and stools were floating in a confused mass, whilethose that were not yet reached by the rapidly rising flood had beenthrown about in all directions by the explosion.
It was some time before the sub. grew accustomed to the semi-gloom.His senses were still affected by the concussion; he could see thewater pouring in, but the noise it made was barely audible. Thesituation reminded him of a cinematograph show unaccompanied by aband.
"All clear as far as I can see," he thought. "It's about time Ilooked after number one. Heavens! What is that?"
Lying almost buried by a pile of gear in one corner of the stokers'mess was the body of a man. He was insensible, and, in the hurriedrush, had been overlooked by his companions. Already the level of thewater was up to the man's chin as he lay with his head and shoulderspropped up against a broken ditty-box.
Knee-deep in water Terence hurried to the rescue. The man, a greatbrawny specimen of humanity, was stripped to the waist. Surprised inthe act of washing, after coming off duty, he had been renderedsenseless by the explosion. His right leg was bent under him. Thelimb, Terence knew at a glance, was broken. He was also bleedingprofusely from an ugly scalp wound in the back of his head.
In spite of the unconscious stoker's weight--he turned the scale atsixteen stone--Aubyn dragged him along the deck to the foot of theladder. Here he was temporarily baffled, for the metal "treads" werenow sloping downwards at such an angle that it would be difficult forhim to get a foothold unimpeded, much more when attempting to lift aheavy man.
It never occurred to the sub. to call upon Captain Holloway forassistance. The captain, the only person now on deck, wasmechanically puffing at an unlighted cigarette, while his attentionwas fixed upon the crowd of swimmers, good, bad, and indifferent, asthey struck out for the shore. Beyond removing his boots the captainhad made no preparations for safety, resolving to remain on hisquarter-deck until his ill-fated command disappeared beneath thewaves.
Unseen by his superior officer and equally unconscious of hispresence, Terence gained the upper deck, secured a rope, and againdescended to the aid of the luckless stoker. Bending the rope roundthe man's chest and back the sub. clambered up the ladder and beganto heave away. Under ordinary circumstances Aubyn would never haveattempted such a feat, but sheer nerve gave him the strength of agiant. Unaided he succeeded in raising the senseless man and topplinghim over the coaming on to the deck.
Just then Captain Holloway, having seen that the last of the swimmershad reached the mud-fringed shore, remembered that the sub. had gonebelow, and finding that he had not returned, hurried to thecompanion.
To his surprise he found Aubyn bending over the body of a badlywounded stoker.
"Found him below, sir," explained the sub. "Double fracture of theleg and a nasty gash on his head."
With his captain's assistance Terence proceeded to apply roughsplints to the injured limb and to staunch the flow of blood from theman's head.
"We'll soon have him out of it," remarked Captain Holloway. "Thegig's returning, and I see the whaler is coming up as hard as shecan."
He pointed to the boat which had taken the invalid to thesick-quarters. Alarmed by the explosion and concluding that somethinghad befallen the ship, the ship's crew had bent to their oars with awill, to find on drawing clear of the hard that the "Terrier" was onthe point of sinking.
The sub. felt himself shivering. The keen wind blowing against hissaturated nether garments reminded him that it was mid-winter. As hestooped to wring the water out of the bottoms of his trousers herealized that the unconscious stoker, who a few moments before hadbeen toiling in the hot stokehold, was now lying stripped to thewaist.
Removing his great-coat and muffler Terence slipped the garments overthe unfortunate man, just as the gig and the whaler came alongside.
This time there were plenty of helpers. Carefully the stoker waslowered into the whaler and placed in the stern-sheets.
"Give way, my lads," ordered Captain Holloway. "Run this man up tothe sick-quarters as hard as you know how."
Then turning to Aubyn he added,
"The old ship seems to be hanging on. We may as well have a lookbelow and see if there's anything of value in our cabins."
Bidding the gig lie off at a boat's length from the ship, which wasnow tilted at such an angle that her propellers were clear of thewater, Captain Holloway, followed by Terence, disappeared down thelittle companion just abaft the after 4.7-in. gun.
Although Aubyn had been on board the torpedo-gunboat only a week hewas thoroughly familiar with the appearance of the little box-roomdubbed by courtesy a cabin. It would be difficult to describe itsshape, for being well aft she was cut into by the "run" of theship's side as it approached the stern-post. It was lighted by twoscuttles, or circular ports. Immediately beneath these lights was hisbunk, extending from bulkhead to bulkhead, yet barely long enough forhim to lie at full length.
Underneath the bunk were two mahogany drawers. In one of the twocorners of the cabin, which were rectangular, stood a wash-basin,hidden from view by a green baize curtain. Against the oppositebulkhead was a very small stove, its brasswork polished to a highdegree. Somewhere between the rest of the space was a chair which hadto be moved whenever the occupant of the cabin crossed from one sideof his personal and private domain to the other. Even the steelceiling, coated with cork cement, in a feeble attempt to prevent"sweating" of the metal, was utilized for a secondary purpose; fromhere hung the sub.'s enamelled iron bath.
Being well aft Aubyn's cabin had escaped much of the force of theexplosion, but most of the loose gear had been displaced and lodgedin the angle formed by the sloping floor and bulkhead. Twophotographs in silver frames, their glasses smashed to atoms, lay onthe carpet in company with the sub.'s silver cigarette-case, hiswatch and chain and a toilet-case--the latter a present from hisheadmaster upon leaving school. That little heap representedpractically the whole of his worldly belongings in the way ofluxuries: he could have stowed the lot inside his sweater.
Yet he did nothing of the sort. Like a man in a trance he stood inthe doorway. Unaccountably the dazed feeling that gripped himimmediately after the ship had received her death-blow tookpossession of him again. There he remained, gazing at the scene ofdisorder, without stirring a finger to save his treasures, until hewas aroused by Captain Holloway exclaiming:--
"Look alive, Mr. Aubyn. She's going."
Up the companion raced the two officers. The ship was tremblingviolently. Air bubbles, escaping through the submerged scuttles,agitated the water alongside. The whole of the fore-part of the"Terrier," as far as the base of the after funnel, was under thewaves. It was even a difficult matter to cross the deck from thecompanion to the side.
The gig backed. Captain Holloway signed to the sub. to leap; thengiving a last look round he followed Aubyn into the boat.
"Lay on your oars, man," he ordered, after the gig had gone a hundredyards from the sinking ship.
Standing in the stern-sheets, Captain Holloway waited for the end. Itw
as not long in coming. With the White Ensign still flutteringproudly in the breeze, the "Terrier" dipped more and more till tenfeet of the after-part of her keel was visible. For a brief instantthe towering mass seemed to hang irresolute, then with hardly asplash the hull disappeared from sight, leaving only the after-mastfrom the truck to the hounds above the surface.
Raising his hand to the peak of his cap the captain gave his formercommand a last salute, then resuming his seat, bade the men "giveway."
All the inhabitants of the village were on the shore ready to offerhospitality to the crew, many of whom had discarded most of theirclothing before jumping from the ship. One petty officer, three ableseamen, and a stoker were missing--doubtless killed outright by theexplosion. Four men were seriously injured, while a score more weresuffering from wounds and shock.
"Hanged if I can quite realize it," remarked Captain Holloway, as hewalked with Aubyn towards the village. "I remember going down to mycabin and grabbing a spare cap. There were two drawers in my locker.In one was fifty half-sovereigns, and in the other over three hundredpounds in notes. The gold is in my trousers' pocket, but, although Irecollect seeing the notes, I've let the whole lot go to Davy Jones.Strange, eh? Why, what's the matter with you, man?"
He turned and grasped Terence by the shoulders just in time toprevent him from falling to the ground in a dead faint.