CHAPTER XXIV
THE SINKING TRANSPORT
HIS utter weariness deserting him on the receipt of this disconcerting intelligence, Sub-Lieutenant Farrar leapt from his bunk, pulled on his boots, and ran up the companion ladder.
Already Mr. Gripper had called the men to action stations. The for'ard disappearing gun had been raised, its presence being hidden from outside observation by the foot of the reefed foresail. Prone on the deck lay the uniformed crew, alertly awaiting orders to man the quick-firers and strafe the lurking foe.
The sun was now shining brightly, although the wind was still strong—"Force Six," according to the warrant officer's report. A wicked-looking sea, white with foam, extended as far as the eye could reach, the monotonous crests being broken in one place by the grey hull of a badly listing vessel of about 8,000 tons.
The torpedoed craft lay well over to starboard and well down by the stern. Clouds of smoke and steam were issuing from amidships. Three pairs of davits were empty, while from a fourth a boat hung vertically, crashing against the hull with the long sluggish movements of the sinking ship. The rest of the boats on the windward side were still hoisted, the captain evidently deciding that to attempt to lower in such a sea was a matter of impossibility, with certain risk of disaster. How the boats on the port side fared the felucca's people were unable to see, although bearing to leeward they stood a better chance of pulling clear of the foundering transport.
Upon the steeply sloping decks of the heeling vessel, numbers of khaki-clad figures could be discerned, drawn up in rigid lines. At frequent intervals a part of the line would break and disperse as the superbly disciplined troops were ordered to take their places in such of the boats that were still available.
"Makes you feel proud that you are British, sir," remarked the gunner. "Steady as a rock, those chaps, and not much of a chance for a boat in that turmoil. Shall we drop to lee'ard of her, sir?"
Before the sub could reply two dark grey poles showed upon the crest of a wave. A moment later the long sinister hull of the U-boat that had dealt the transport the mortal blow shook itself clear of the water.
Swept from end to end by the waves the U-boat's deck looked as if it afforded no foothold for any of her crew, but presently the conning-tower hatchway was thrown open, and half a dozen figures in black oilskins and seaboots made their way for'ard, hanging tenaciously the while to a wire lifeline.
Upon the platform surrounding the conning tower a tall figure, evidently that of the kapitan-leutnant, stood watching the approaching felucca through his binoculars. Cautiously Farrar removed his cap and crouched behind the plunging bulwarks, the while returning the compliment by keeping the U-boat under observation by means of his glasses.
The submarine's for'ard gun was raised, in spite of the fact that the gunners were frequently waist-deep in the surging waves. A flash and a shell hurtled through the air within a hundred yards of the bows of the "Georgeos Nikolaos."
It was an inhuman and peremptory order for the felucca to keep her distance, and not to attempt the rescue of any of the torpedoed transport's troops or crew.
Wishing to reduce the range and also to enable both guns to be brought to bear upon the unhallowed pirate craft, the sub ordered the helm to be starboarded, until the U-boat bore slightly ahead of the felucca's beam.
"Ready there?" shouted the young officer.
"Ay, ay, sir," replied the quietly confident gunlayers.
"By heavens, sir!" exclaimed the warrant officer. "Look at that—the murderous swine."
For the U-boat, not content with its work of torpedoing the transport, had opened fire upon one of the lifeboats that had pulled away from the lee side of the sinking ship. Having given the felucca orders to stand off, the Huns paid no more attention to the apparently harmless Greek trader until their cold-blooded equanimity was rudely disturbed.
With a deafening crash both quick-firers spoke simultaneously from the felucca's deck. Before the thin bluish haze of burnt cordite was dispersed, the shells had "got home." One, striking the U-boat's gun, swept it and its crew into nothingness; the other, bursting against the base of the conning tower, tore a huge rent in the steel deck, swept away the periscopes, and blistered the grey paint into a hideous yellow daub. When the smoke of the exploding missile had disappeared, the U-boat's kapitan-leutnant was observed gripping the shattered guard-rail with one hand, the other pressed to his side.
"We've got her!" exclaimed the delighted Mr. Gripper. "She can't dive, and these seas will fill her."
The German captain was evidently of the same opinion. Through his binoculars the sub saw that he was moving his jaw, as if shouting orders or questions to those of his crew in the interior of the pirate craft. Then a seaman's head and shoulders appeared through the hatchway, and a white flag fluttered in the strong wind.
"Napoo, laddie!" ejaculated the gunner. "You've all gone and done it this time."
He looked to Farrar for confirmation. The sub shook his head.
"Cease fire!" he ordered.
For the first time Mr. Gripper's mahogany-hued face expressed dissatisfaction at his youthful skipper's decision.
"I'd have blown the beasts to Hades!" he muttered.
"Down foresail!" ordered the sub. "Start her up."
Promptly the lateen yard was lowered on deck and the powerful motor began to throb and emit noisy explosions from her exhaust. Had the felucca to attempt to make dead to windward it was doubtful whether the engine would be of sufficient horse power to enable her to battle successfully against the force of wind and waves; but by running before the elements the "Georgeos Nikolaos" was adroitly manoeuvred close under the bow of the transport.
To leeward of the huge vessel there was comparatively still water. Unhesitatingly the felucca's helmsman placed her alongside the still crowded ship.
"Steady, lads!" shouted a strong voice without a tremor in the ringing tones. "Number Four platoon—dismiss."
Amidst the cheers of their comrades the sixty-odd men of the platoon scrambled, leapt, or swung themselves to the felucca's decks—bootless, coatless, and wearing lifebelts. The rescued troops were quickly sent below and the hatches battened down.
"Room for another thirty!" shouted the sub.
The required number fell out, the thirty-first patting the last of the party on the back and wishing him good luck. Then, deeply laden, the "Georgeos Nikolaos" backed away from the transport to the accompaniment of three ringing cheers from the two hundred-odd officers and men who, emulating the example of the "Birkenhead," remained drawn up upon the boat-deck.
"We'll try to keep in touch with the boats," declared Farrar, indicating the five deeply laden lifeboats that were drifting rapidly to lee'ard. "No sign of the U-boat?"
"Saw her founder just as we were rounding-to, sir," replied Sampson. "I guess there aren't any survivors from her," he added with grim satisfaction.
Presently the sub glanced aft. As he did so he gave a low whistle of surprise.
"By Jove, Mr. Gripper!" he exclaimed. "Look at the ensign."
He pointed to the Greek flag. In the excitement of the strafing operations it had not been struck and replaced by the White Ensign.
The warrant officer shrugged his shoulders.
"A mere detail, sir," he remarked.
"Fritz isn't in a position to protest," continued the sub, with ominous truth. "Main point is we've done the job neatly this time."
No further remark was made on the matter. Farrar was thinking now of other things—of the doomed transport with the band of heroes on her decks. Unable to do more to save life, for the lives of those already rescued would thereby be endangered, the officers and crew of the felucca were unwilling spectators of the last throes of the torpedoed vessel.
With the propeller running under the action of the partly throttled motor, the "Georgeos Nikolaos" was just able to keep pace with the far-flung line of boats. The latter, unable to run before the vicious seas and equally helpless to make headway, were riding to hastily constructed sea-anchors, which had the effect of keeping the boats' heads on to the waves.
On the transport men were hard at work knocking together rapidly made rafts—a frail chance, for even if the planks escaped being entangled in the rigging of the sinking ship, there was the terrific sea to contend with.
"She'll be gone in another quarter of an hour," declared Mr. Gripper.
The warrant officer stood on the weather bulwarks and, with one hand holding firmly the tautened shrouds, levelled his glass at a point on the horizon.
"What is it, Mr. Gripper?" asked the sub.
The gunner did not immediately reply. Frequently enveloped in spray he hung on rigidly, gazing the while with a doubtful expression on his weather-beaten face.
Then he leapt down.
"It's all right, sir," he announced. "There's a destroyer making for her. She'll have to be quick about it, though," he added under his breath.