CHAPTER XVI
The Wrong Island
"Putting in there, sir?" asked Beverley, finding his chief inclined to become communicative.
"I was debating," replied Harborough. "I want to, and yet I don't want to. Fact is, I can't make up my mind."
Villiers, Beverley, and Claverhouse, who with the skipper formed the party on deck, gazed steadfastly upon the distant peaks of Ni Telang. Each man wanted to study the expressions on his companions' faces, but somehow every one hesitated to do so. The admission of indecision coming from the hitherto somewhat despotic skipper of the Titania rather took the wind out of their sails.
"What's your opinion on the matter, Villiers?" inquired Harborough abruptly.
"You wish to satisfy yourself that our rivals are slogging away on the wrong spot?"
"Exactly," replied the baronet. "I suppose it's rather childish, but somehow I want to enjoy the spectacle of seeing the Zug's crew figuratively tumble into the pit they suppose they've dug for others. On the other hand, we are anxious to get to work, and on that account perhaps it would be as well to slip past Ni Telang unobserved and carry on to Nua Leha. It will take us some time, I fancy, to locate the wreck."
"I would suggest, sir," remarked Claverhouse, "that we make straight for Nua Leha and get to work. Trevear and I could have a joy-ride over to Ni Telang and see what sort of game the Huns are up to."
"They'd spot the sea-plane," objected Bobby Beverley. "That wouldn't be advisable in the initial stages of the salvage operations."
"Then what is your scheme, Beverley?" asked Harborough, reaching down for a large-scale chart of the islands that lay in a locker under the chart-house table.
"We could make a trip in one of our boats," replied Beverley. "You couldn't, Villiers, old son; they know you already. We could pitch up a yarn that we are on a fishing expedition and have got blown away from our ship. For that purpose we would be Yanks from the U.S. yacht Narrunga. No doubt friend Strauss would bluff us, but he daren't refuse to let us land for fresh water."
"Quite a sound scheme, Beverley," agreed Harborough. "I think we'll act upon it when we get to Nua Leha.... A couple of points to the south'ard for the present, quartermaster. East-a-half-south will do."
"East-a-half-south, sir," intoned Merridew in professional style.
Keeping to the new course, the Titania passed a good ten miles from the island of Ni Telang. At that distance, although the peaks were plainly visible in the clear atmosphere, the low-lying land and the surrounding barrier of coral reefs were below the horizon. There was a strong temptation to ascertain whether the Zug had already arrived, but, once a decision was arrived at, Harborough put the question firmly from his mind.
Almost before the peaks of Ni Telang dipped below the horizon other land appeared above the skyline, bearing E by N.1/2N.
"We'll broach that case of champagne to-night, all being well," declared Harborough, whose fit of indecision had now passed. He gave another glance at the chart. Almost daily for the last three months he had studied that canvas-backed sea-map of the approaches to Nua Leha; and now the vision of tomorrow had become the reality of to-day.
"Keep her as she is," he continued. "There's plenty of water for a bit. I'm going to turn in. If I'm not awake by one bell in the first dog watch turn me out."
"Very good, sir," replied Villiers.
The Titania was bowling along under canvas at a good seven knots. It was one of those rather exceptional days when the breeze held true and the vessel was able to cut through the clear blue water without any necessity on the part of the crew either to increase or reduce canvas, or to touch a sheet. The weather-shrouds were tautened like harp strings as the yacht lay over at an almost constant angle of thirty degrees from the perpendicular. The spray hissed from her cutwater, and burbled pleasantly past her sides, leaving a clean wake astern.
All hands, including Pete, who was now entirely "in the know", were tremendously excited as the distance between the Titania and her goal decreased.
Yet the island appeared to rise above the blue horizon with provoking slowness. By noon it was just possible to discern three jagged peaks that rose to a height of two thousand five hundred feet above the sea-level, the intervening valleys being a good thousand feet lower. To the northward the ground sloped gradually until it vanished in the haze of mingled sea and sky.
By four o'clock the white line marking the surf upon the outer reef was visible. By the aid of glasses it could be seen that the lower portion of the island was much-wooded, coco-nut palms predominating. The upper land was well covered with grass, but the higher peaks were bare and rugged, indicating their volcanic origin.
Five minutes later Harborough anticipated himself by coming on deck. He had slept the sleep of mental and bodily exhaustion, and although he still looked tired he had lost the grey, haggard expression that had been his constant companion for the last ten days.
"We'll have to approach from the eastern side," he remarked. "There is a passage on this side, but I don't care to risk it. The lead's precious little use in these parts."
He swept the island with his binoculars, and then turned abruptly upon Bobby Beverley.
"Tell Swaine to go aloft," he ordered. "Conning the ship from the cross-trees is the best means of getting across the bar. Mr. Villiers, see that there's a kedge aft ready to let go. You might as well stow canvas. The wind will be heading us round the corner."
While these orders were being executed O'Loghlin went below to start up his beloved motors. He usually spent the greater part of his waking hours below tinkering with the engines. Even in the Red Sea and in the sweltering heat of the Malacca Straits he kept up the performance, and the hitherto-neglected engines were now a picture of polished and easy-running mechanism.
Keeping within a distance of two miles from the reef, the Titania skirted the south-eastern sides of the island. Although a careful watch was maintained there were no signs of human habitation ashore, except a ruined hut that might have been built by the crew of a trading-vessel during their search for bêche-de-mer.
"Good thing there are no natives," remarked Harborough "They'd only tend to complicate matters. We wouldn't dare leave any stores on the beach; they'd vanish. Right-o, Swaine; up aloft with you."
Like a cat Swaine swarmed up aloft, hand over hand, by means of the throat-halyards, for the Titania was not fitted with ratlines. Barely had he settled himself on the cross-trees when he shouted:
"Vessel at anchor in the lagoon, sir!"
"By Jove!" ejaculated Villiers, and without expressing his thoughts he, too, went aloft.
Beyond a low-lying spur of land fringed with an irregular line of coco-nut palms, he could discern the upper parts of the hull and the mast and funnel of a steamer. She had evidently only recently arrived, for smoke was issuing from her funnel.
"It's the Zug, sir," he announced.
The explosion of a 42-centimetre shell could hardly have produced greater surprise. Beating her rival only by a few hours, the Zug had dropped anchor not at Ni Telang but at Nua Leha, and almost over the spot where the wreck of the Fusi Yama was supposed to be lying. By what freak of fortune had von Giespert's minions chosen that spot, when, had they acted upon instructions given in the false chart, they should have been fifty miles to the west'ard?
"That's a nasty one, sir," remarked Villiers, as he gained the deck.
"It is," agreed Harborough briefly. He was rapidly forming a plan of action rendered necessary by the totally unexpected turn of events.
To enter the lagoon and dispute the right of possession with the rival expedition would almost certainly end in bloodshed, and this Harborough was loth to provoke. Nor was he willing to come to terms with them. On the other hand, he was not going to give up his chances and those of his fellow-adventurers. Something had to be done and that quickly, for in another five minutes the Titania would be visible from the Zug's decks.
"Make all plain sail," ordered Harborough. "We'll beat back to Ni Telang. It's possible that we may lure 'em out."
Quickly fore and aft canvas was set, and, close-hauled on the port tack, the Titania skirted the western side of the island. It was soon evident that her presence was observed, for with true Hunnish effrontery the Zug gave a long blast on her syren and hoisted the German colours.
"So much for the Swedish myth," commented Harborough. "Fritz likes to crow when he thinks he's on top. Now we'll see if the fish will bite."
Apparently the Zug's crew were puzzled when the approaching British vessel, instead of turning and entering the lagoon, held on a course parallel to the reef. As a matter of fact, owing to a miscalculation on the part of Captain Siegfried Strauss, the steamer had anchored off Nua Leha, under the impression that she was at Ni Telang. The merest fluke prevented this error from leading to the accidental discovery of the sunken treasure of the Fusi Yama.
But when the Titania held on, Strauss began to puzzle his brains. If this were the island he could not understand why the Englishmen should admit defeat so tamely. Something was wrong somewhere.
He checked his chronometer and sextant readings and revised his figures. Suddenly he gave a howl of angry astonishment. There was an error making a difference of fifty-five minutes of longitude.
With an oath he shouted for the cable to be hove short, at the same time ringing to the engine-room to "stand by", ignoring von Giespert (who had joined the ship at Batavia), and was demanding an explanation.
"I have the speed of that craft," he decided. "I'll beat her yet."
"She's weighing, sir," reported Villiers, who had been keeping the Zug under observation by means of powerful binoculars. "They've steam on her winch."
Harborough's rugged features wore a weird smile.
"That's the stuff to give 'em," he exclaimed. "Tell O'Loghlin to give her full throttle. We'll have to keep up the pretence."
With every stitch of canvas set and both engines developing their utmost horse-power, the Titania skirted the eastern and north-eastern extremities of Nua Leha. So far the wind helped her, but presently she would be headed by the breeze.
Before an intervening headland cut off a view of the lagoon it was seen that the Zug was actually under way. Harborough's bluff looked like succeeding. At all events the rival concern was being lured away from the maritime Tom Tiddler's ground.
"So she hasn't located the wreck," commented Harborough, as pleased as a dog with two tails. "We'll let her beat us on the last lap."
"It will be dark before they arrive," remarked Beverley.
"So much the better," rejoined Harborough. "If they choose to pile her upon the reef that's their affair. I wouldn't risk it."
The excitement of the speed-contest killed all sense of disappointment at having to retrace their course. For once at least Harborough evinced greater interest in what lay astern than in what lay ahead.
"There she is," exclaimed half a dozen voices, as the Zug's bows appeared from behind the headland.
A dense column of smoke was pouring from her funnel, and, judging by the size of the "bone in her teeth", she was chugging through the water at a pace that threatened overheated bearings and sundry other troubles in the engine-room.
"I reckon she's doing a good couple of knots more than the old Titania," declared Villiers, who, having been busy with the stowing of canvas, had strolled aft to watch the overhauling craft. "It's a wonder that they don't open fire on us through sheer force of habit."
"They'd like to, I don't doubt," rejoined Harborough. "I wouldn't be surprised if she suddenly ports her helm when she's abreast of us. We'll have to watch her."
"She's slowing down," exclaimed Bobby. "That's engine-trouble."
"I think not," said Harborough. "She's easing down because she knows she has the heels of us. She's letting us pilot her, but I'll bet when she sights land she'll go all out again. Right-o, Fritz, go your own gait, I don't mind, s'long as you keep clear of Nua Leha."
An hour later the look-out reported land ahead. The three peaks of Ni Telang were showing above the horizon, standing out clearly against the late afternoon sun.
Viewed from the east'ard, there was a strong similarity between the two islands, so that, apart from the Hun navigator's error in determining his position, the mistake was to a certain extent explicable.
For the next hour the Zug hung resolutely at the heels of her rival; then, apparently satisfied as to the precise locality of the goal, she increased speed, and in a blatant bullying fashion overhauled and passed the smaller and slower Titania.
The Hun bulwarks were lined with stolid-looking men whose faces looked like masks concealing a vulgar triumph. The Titania's people simply ignored them. The common courtesies of the high seas were dispensed with; there were no dipping of ensigns and exchange of signals. For all the outward notice she attracted, the Zug might have been non-existent.
There was no lowering of screens revealing a battery of quick-firers; no foaming track of a torpedo; no attempt on the part of the Hun to put his helm hard over and ram his rival. No doubt the desire to do so was present, but the fear of detection and consequent punishment was too great.
It was soon obvious to von Giespert and his henchman Strauss that the race was by no means a decided event. There was little doubt but that the German-owned vessel would arrive off the island first, but in the race against darkness the latter would win easily.
With the suddenness common to tropical climes, the short twilight gave place to intense darkness. There was no moon and the stars were obscured. The Titania displayed her navigation light, but the Zug apparently did not. She might have shown her port and starboard lights, but even by the aid of night-glasses no red and green blurr was visible from the Titania; nor did the leading vessel hoist a stern light. All that indicated her presence was a phosphorescent swirl in the water under her stumpy counter, and an occasional display of sparks from her funnel.
Harborough could well afford to hold on, although the low-lying reefs of Ni Telang were not so many miles away. Following in the wake of the Zug, he knew that the Hun vessel would give him fair warning of the partly-submerged danger, because if the Hun tramp piled herself upon the coral there would be sufficient time for the Titania to port her helm hard over and avoid the danger.
But presently the Zug ported her helm. She had now displayed her navigation lights, and the white and green showed two points on the Titania's starboard bow.
"She's funked it, by Jove!" ejaculated Villiers.
"And I don't blame her," added Harborough, straining his ears to catch the sound of the roar of the surf above the steady pulsations of the engines. "Now we'll have to watch her. It's like a game of musical chairs with two players for a solitary vacant seat. We'll have to keep our end up till dawn, and then we'll let them slip in."
It was an eerie night. Except those whose duties required them to be below, the Titania's crew remained on deck. Up and down on a four-mile beat parallel to the eastern side of Ni Telang the two vessels cruised, passing and repassing each other like two dogs "ready to wound and yet afraid to strike ". Occasionally the Titania played her searchlights upon the island in order to verify her position, although Harborough took good care not to let the beams bear upon the rival ship.
Shortly after midnight the Zug attempted the passage through the reef. By the aid of an Aldis lamp in her bows she cautiously approached the gap in the line of foam that showed ghastly-white in the tropical darkness. But almost at the moment of success Strauss's nerve failed him, and, reversing engines, the German vessel backed away.
At length Harborough consulted the luminous dial of his wristlet watch.
"It'll be dawn in another ten minutes," he announced. "We'll carry on a little longer than usual on this course, and let them think we've been caught napping."
His surmise was correct. The Titania was three miles off the N.E. extremity of the island, when the lofty peaks were lighted up with the blush of a new-born day. The Zug, marking time off the entrance to the lagoon, promptly took the narrow channel through the reef, rolling heavily as she passed the jagged fringe of surf-swept coral. Then, with a rush and a roar, her cable tore through the hawse-pipe and she came to a standstill, head to wind, off the Island of Ni Telang. Harborough smiled grimly.
"You've hit the wrong island this time, old son," he exclaimed contentedly. "But it was a narrow squeak for us."