"It's lucky for us they have not persisted in the attack," observed Hythe. "All the same, there's no time to be lost. Mylor and Gwennap, will you take the boat and row off to the 'Aphrodite.' Inform Captain Restronguet of the state of affairs, and how the position will be difficult to hold in the event of a night attack. Ask him if there is any objection to bringing off the survivors of the 'Iticaba'?"
While the two men were on their errand, and Polglaze, with two or three assistants, was endeavouring to get the automatic gun into working order, the rest of the landing-party assisted the crew of the "Iticaba" to launch the ship's boats. Within an hour they were afloat and moored a few feet from the bank of the creek, stern ropes and kedges having been laid out so as to haul them off into deep water should it be necessary to embark in a hurry.
Presently the quartermaster and Gwennap returned with the order that Captain Restronguet wished the landing party and the rescued men to embark at once, as the wind was rising and there was a heavy swell tumbling in over the bar.
The crew of the "Iticaba" received the communication with mixed feelings. They were glad to leave this inhospitable shore, but at the same time they had grave misgivings as to whether they ought to trust themselves on board a submarine. The majority of the men, although members of the Royal Naval Reserve, were blue water seamen, to whom a storm at sea had no perils providing they were at a safe distance from a lee shore. They were sufficiently conservative in their ideas to regard with obvious distrust the interior of a submarine as a haven of refuge.
"Are you going to dive, sir?" asked Captain Rees. "If so, I'd rather stick it ashore and chance my luck; and most of my men would too, I'm thinking."
"Please yourself, then," replied the sub brusquely. "I wouldn't give a rope's-end for your chances if you remain here. Now, then, Polglaze, hurry up. Limber up, there, we'll finish the repairs on board."
"Nearly finished, sir," answered Polglaze remonstratively.
"Can't help it. There'll be too much of a swell on the beach in a minute. Fall in, men."
Captain Rees glanced in the direction of the "Aphrodite," which was moored by a pair of stout chain cables, since her patent anchoring device was useless when afloat. He gave another look, this time at the slender mounds of sand that had been hastily heaped over the victims of the Somalis.
"Come along, men!" he exclaimed.