On the following day a light wind did at last set in, and relieved us of this strenuous labor. In the distance, near the coast, we saw a number of steamers that were evidently either entering or leaving the port of Padang. One of these roused our interest more than any of the others, because she apparently did not change her position at all, and so was evidently laying to, as the great depth of water in this vicinity precludes the possibility of anchoring. As we drew near to the vessel, we could make out with some degree of certainty that she was not a merchantman. She appeared to be a small warship of some kind—a gun-boat, or a torpedo-boat destroyer, and flew a flag which we could not distinguish, because of its great distance from us.
Suddenly, the ship that had been lying so motionless began to move. Thick clouds of smoke poured from the smoke-stacks; she turned sharply, headed for us, and approached at high speed. In a short time we recognised the war flag of the Netherlands flying at the masthead. As we had no desire to drop our incognito as yet, and as we were sailing in free waters, there was no reason why we should show our colors. We therefore quickly gathered up all our rifles, and, together with our artillery equipment, stowed them away below decks. All the men quickly disappeared down the main hatchway, which was closed after them. The wildest looking one of the sailors and myself were the only ones who remained in sight. That we both belonged to the Imperial Navy no one would ever have imagined, as our clothing was so scant that we would much more readily have been sized up as belonging to the war fleet of some one of the island kingdoms of the Pacific.
Before long, the torpedo-boat destroyer was close beside us, and began to evince an interest in us, which, inexplicable from the first, soon became extremely embarrassing. At a distance of fifty meters she slowly passed by. On the commander’s bridge stood all the officers, each provided with marine glasses, through which they examined our ship with great curiosity. From the lively conversation that was going on between the officers, we concluded that they were talking about us. The destroyer passed around us, close under our stern, and all the binoculars were turned toward our ship’s name, which had long since disappeared under a coat of the thickest white paint. We were just congratulating ourselves that we had bluffed her, when, at a distance of 5000 meters, she suddenly turned, and lay to. At this, I could not rid myself of the thought that we had been expected.
At the destroyer’s approach we had got our war flag ready to run up, for if we had been spoken, we would, of course, have replied by a display of our colors.
In the course of the afternoon our attendant, whom by this time we had identified by the ship’s name as the Dutch destroyer, Lynx, left us, and disappeared in the direction of Padang. In our cheerful but overhasty conclusion that she was preceding us into port to give notice of our coming, so that maids of honor might be in waiting, and triumphal arches be prepared for us, we were doomed to disappointment, however.
By nightfall we lay close before the small, flat coral islands that lie in front of the entrance to the harbor. We could see the lights of a steamer that was coming out of the harbor. Another was moving into port. We looked upon both of them with suspicion, as we supposed one of them to be our companion of the foregoing afternoon. We therefore carefully screened the Ayesha’s lights. We had made no mistake, for in signaling to the incoming steamer, the outgoing ship revealed herself to be our old acquaintance, the Lynx. To our regret, she had sighted us in spite of all the precaution we had taken. Again she became our close companion, and for a while her green and red side lights could be seen immediately astern, at a distance of not more than one hundred meters. We felt truly sorry for the Lynx. It must have been very irritating to her to have to trundle behind us at the wonderful speed of one nautical mile, a speed which, with the light breeze blowing, the Ayesha could not exceed. The engineers at the 1000 horse-power engines of the Lynx probably wished us elsewhere more than once that night.
In so far as our problems of navigation were concerned, the presence of the Lynx was a distinct advantage to us, for we were sailing in waters with which we were wholly unacquainted, but we could feel perfectly sure that wherever the Lynx could float, we could also. We knew that if we were nearing a shoal, our escort would retreat in time, and we could then turn and follow her.
Otherwise, however, her companionship was little to our liking, for it gave us the appearance of a disreputable little vagabond being brought in by a burly policeman. As we were a warship, we had no intention of allowing ourselves to be thus escorted. I therefore determined to communicate with the Lynx by signal. For this purpose I had a white bull’s eye lantern, that usually hung in the men’s quarters, brought on deck. In front of this lantern we held a board, and by raising and lowering it, we gave our Morse signals. By means of this apparatus of high technical development, we conveyed to our escort the message in English, “Why are you following me?” Although the Lynx acknowledged our signal as having understood it, we received no reply to our question. After a half hour had passed without an answer, we resorted to our Morse signal again, but this time asked in German, “Why do you follow me?” And again the signal was acknowledged, but no answer given. Shortly afterward, however, the Lynx increased her speed, and steamed off. For another whole day the poor Lynx had to dog our footsteps, for the wind continued to fail us.
When, on the following day, the Ayesha had carried us within the limits of Dutch territorial waters, we immediately ran up our war flag and pennants. The Lynx did not again draw near to us, but kept at a distance of several thousand meters.