CHAPTER XXX
A NOVEL DUCK HUNT
HAVING secured the surviving Germans from the submarine, and madecertain that the Huns had not taken steps to destroy their craft onsurrendering, Tressidar "wirelessed" the commander-in-chief atDevonport, reporting the capture and requesting that assistance wouldbe sent to tow the prize into port.
The crews of the two Brixham boats cast off and resumed theirinterrupted run home, as unconcernedly as if bagging "U" boats was aneveryday task. At the same time they took good care formally to makea claim for services rendered to the State, and this Tressidarcountersigned according to their request.
It was nearly six in the evening before two destroyers arrived fromDevonport. One of them took the captured submarine in tow, the other"stood by" in case another "U" boat might be lurking in the track ofthe prize.
Cracking on full speed to make up for the delay, the "Gannet" camewithin sight of St. Catherine's light by midnight, and havingexchanged secret signals with the patrols in the Outer ExaminationGround, she rounded the Nab Lightship and dropped anchor off St.Helen's.
The "Anzac" had already arrived and had gone into Portsmouth Harbourto ship additional ammunition. Barely had the "Gannet" brought upwhen a Government tug came alongside with her new crew, and took offTressidar and the men lent from the monitor.
Hardly had the tug backed clear of the trawler when the latter beganto heave up anchor. Five minutes later she was under way, bound forthe North Sea.
"Something brewing, sir," remarked the master of the tug to the sub."A whole crowd of them left Poole for the east'ard this afternoon,and seven from Portsmouth. There'll be a hot time out yonder, I'mthinking, before many more days are passed."
The "Anzac" was lying at No. 5 buoy. Her gunnery trials had beenpostponed by wireless on the run from Plymouth, and orders had beengiven for her to proceed alongside the Dockyard jetty to allowworkmen to make important alterations to the mountings of the 14-in.guns.
Working day and night, the task would be completed in aboutforty-eight hours, in spite of the fact that the armoured roof of theturret had to be unriveted and removed before the work could betackled.
"Rotten news, old man," was Eric Greenwood's greeting when the chumsmet on the following morning. "Seen to-day's paper? No? It concernsthat slippery spy, Oberfurst."
"Not escaped?" asked Tressidar eagerly.
"Yes," replied the A.P. "And for once at least the authorities haveacted promptly and have enlisted the aid of the Press. Here youare--a quarter of a column, with a detailed description of the wantedman."
The news was unfortunately only too true. The spy had been lodged ina cell in the county police-station, pending a decision as to whetherhe should be handed over to the civil, naval, or military authoritiesfor trial.
A dull-witted policeman, whose activities hitherto had beenrestricted to "running in" tramps and vagrants and stopping motoristsfor exceeding a speed-limit that existed only in his imagination, hadbeen detailed to keep watch on the prisoner. At four in the morningOberfurst was apparently asleep. At half-past the constable, onlooking through the observation hole in the door, saw the spy lyingat full length on the floor with a gaping wound in his throat.
Instead of calling for assistance, the overzealous policeman unlockedthe door with a view to rendering first aid, instead of which hereceived a blow over the head with the prisoner's supper-bowl thatstretched him senseless across the threshold.
Not until six did the sergeant discover the still unconsciousconstable, and by that time Oberfurst had received a good hour and ahalf's start.
A piece of torn red silk handkerchief left in the vacant cellrevealed the nature of the spy's ruse. He had tied the crimson fabricround his throat, and in the artificial light the deception wassufficiently realistic to delude the gaoler completely.
The papers, however, were convinced that recapture was the matter ofa few hours only, as the district was being thoroughly searched by astrong force of police assisted by the military.
Eric Greenwood, well conversant with the rugged nature of Dartmoor,was of a different opinion, and Tressidar, who had occasion toremember the spy's cunning and daring, was obliged to admit hischum's arguments.
It was recognised, however, that the spy would have great difficultyin getting out of the country, should he wish to do so. Tressidar hadpreviously reported that Oberfurst was in the habit of crossing tothe Continent in the r?le of an American Red Cross emissary, and atall the seaports particular watch was kept upon every traveller.Ignorant of the fact that the deception had been discovered--unlessthe secret leaked out and came to the ears of the numerous Germanagents still active in Great Britain--Oberfurst might be tempted torisk another trip to Denmark or Holland.
This the authorities hoped he would do, for his capture would then bealmost a certainty, while so long as he remained in the country hewas a source of danger and anxiety to the realm.
The alterations to the "Anzac's" armament having been completed, themonitor proceeded to the back of the Wight to "calibrate." The guntrials being successful, she proceeded in company with two othermonitors up Channel.
It was blowing fairly hard from the south-east'ard, and directly thethree ungainly vessels cleared Spithead, they promptly showed what"wet" craft they were. The "Anzac's" low freeboard offered noprotection from the "combers" that swept fore and aft, drenching thelofty bridge with blinding showers of spray.
When abreast of the "Royal Sovereign" lightship the wind veered apoint or two until it was fairly abeam. The monitor now commenced toroll horribly, at one moment thrusting her bulging sides deeply intothe sea, at another rearing until she showed her weather bilge-keel.
Had there been occasion to use her two 14-in. guns, it would havebeen impossible to train them with any degree of accuracy. Suitablefor fair weather and in sheltered waters, the "Anzac," like the restof her class, proved herself a mean substitute for thesuper-Dreadnoughts, whose bulk and draught rendered them admirablysteady gun-platforms.
"Give me something with plenty of draught," thought Tressidar, as the"Anzac" gave an extra heavy roll. "A craft that will grip the water.If it gets much worse, she'll either have to cut and run for it, orelse stand a good chance of going to Davy Jones."
"She'll take it quietly under the lee of the Belgian coast," remarkedthe navigating lieutenant, who had read his comrade's thoughts."Especially if the wind veers a few points more."
Early next morning the "Anzac" dropped anchor within the Admiraltybreakwater at Dover. Here a flotilla was assembling for the impendingoperations off the Flanders coast. One of the periodical visits tothe German works at Zeebrugge was to be made on an imposing scale.
With the enormous sea-power at their disposal the British Admiraltycould with little exertion drive the Huns away from the Belgiancoast; but this for strategic reasons was undesirable. The Alliedleft wing rested on the sea. From the sea it could be fed andsupplied with ammunition, and there was no danger of the flank beingturned. On the other hand the Germans, not having command of the sea,were under obvious disadvantages. They were constantly open to thefire of British monitors. Thousands of troops had to hold their rightflank without being able to fire a shot at the Belgian and Britishtrenches, which terminated thirty or forty miles short of the Dutchfrontier. Fears of an invasion under the guns of the British fleetcompelled the Huns to hold the useless coast. Zeebrugge, on whichthey fixed their hopes as a base for their submarines, was no longertenable. Its mole had been destroyed, its docks and canal basinsrendered useless by the British guns. Without attempting to board asingle soldier, the British kept a couple of German Army Corpsliterally on thorns.
At daybreak the monitors, accompanied by a number of destroyers andpatrol craft, were within seven miles of the Belgian coast. TheBritish tars made their preparations with grim earnestness andwithout undue haste.
Amongst the many services to be performed before the huge guns beganto hurl their enormous projectiles at the foe, the buoyage of theadjacent neutral
waters of Holland had to be made.
For this task a number of picquet-boats were detailed, each under thecharge of a sub-lieutenant, who in turn were under the orders of asenior lieutenant. Skill in taking bearings was essential, sincethere was no desire to err even a cable's length on the neutral side.
Amongst the subs. detailed was Ronald Tressidar, who had to proceedto a point exactly on the three-mile limit, the position being"checked" by independent observations.
Lashed across the bows of the picquet-boat was a nun-buoy roughlythree feet in diameter and four betwixt apex and apex. To thelowermost ring of the buoy, which was painted in red, white, and bluehorizontal bands, was shackled fifty fathoms of light chain. At theother end of the chain was a "span" of heavier cable, each armterminating in a fifty-six pound mushroom anchor.
A quarter of a mile to the nor'east'ard a Dutch cruiser was forgingslowly through the water, her officers critically interested in thework of the British picquet-boats. The German batteries had refrainedfrom opening fire, possibly on account of the proximity of theneutral cruiser, although it afterwards transpired that there wasquite another reason for their passivity.
Keeping his picquet-boat running dead slow, bows on to the tide, sothat the little craft was practically stationary over the ground,Tressidar determined his position.
"That's about it, sir, I think," he called out, addressing the seniorofficer, who was in another steamboat a short distance away.
"Near enough," replied the lieutenant. "At all events, I don'tsuppose the Dutchmen will quibble over it."
"Stand by to let go!" ordered the sub., speaking to the seamenfor'ard. "Lower away roundly."
Mushroom anchor No. 1 disappeared with a splash, and having made surethat it was holding, Tressidar ordered easy ahead so as to drop thesecond anchor well clear of the former.
"Let go!"
The second anchor clattered overboard, taking with it the length ofchain and the nun-buoy. Then, to the sub.'s surprise, the buoy,instead of floating sedately upon the surface, began to move rapidlythrough the water, impelled by some unseen force. So great was therate of progress that the buoy frequently dragged beneath thesurface, leaving a tell-tale swirl in its wake. Its direction wasroughly south-west, which meant that it was being dragged away fromneutral waters.
In a trice Tressidar grasped the situation.
"Full speed ahead, both engines!" he shouted, at the same timebidding the coxswain put the helm hard over and keep the picquet-boatdead on the buoy.
The lieutenant in the other steam-boat, having seen the nun-buoydropped, was proceeding to another position when he, too, noticedthat something was amiss, and promptly turned his craft and followed.
"Submarine foul of the bridle, sir, I think," shouted Tressidarthrough a megaphone.
The lieutenant had no doubt on that score, for being well astern, hissteamboat was in the "wash" of the submerged craft, while the sub.,being almost immediately above the submarine, was well in front ofthe disturbed water.
"Collar that buoy," sung out the sub., addressing the two bowmen. Thelatter, armed with long boathooks, poised themselves on the lurchingfore-deck, like harpooners waiting for a whale to appear.
"Got her, sir," shouted one of the seamen, as he deftly engaged thehead of the boathook in the metal rung of the nun-buoy. "She'scarrying too much way; I can't get her aboard."
"Hold her, both of you!" exclaimed Tressidar, fearful lest the ringwould carry away and the chain disappear from sight.
The picquet-boat was certainly gaining upon the submerged craft, forin a little while the seamen reported that the strain on the cablewas diminishing. At length, by dint of the united efforts of the twomen, the nun-buoy and about two fathoms of chain were lifted on thedeck of the boat, and a couple of turns taken round the pedestal ofthe for'ard gun.
"Got her, by Jove!" exclaimed the sub. triumphantly as he ordered theengines to be stopped and allowed the picquet-boat to be towed by thesubmerged craft.
The trapped submarine had attempted to steal towards the Britishmonitors, and having taken her bearing through her periscope, hadsubmerged in Dutch waters. This was obvious, since the buoy, actuallyon the line of demarkation, had been swept away from the neutralzone.
At first her commander had been ignorant of the unpleasant fact thathe was towing a British picquet-boat in addition to dragging twomushroom anchors over the sandy bottom; but when he made thedisconcerting discovery he altered his course and attempted to makefor Zeebrugge. This he did blindly, since he dare not rise to showher periscope above the surface. By dint of careful helmsmanship thepicquet-boat also turned and kept dead in the wake of her invisibletug. By this time a dozen steamboats belonging to the flotillaarrived upon the scene.
Presently the drag of the anchor made itself felt, for the bottom ofthe sea had changed from sand to stiff mud. Still ignorant of thenature of the obstruction, the German lieutenant-commander was underthe erroneous impression that he had fouled the moorings of a mine.He therefore reversed engines and attempted to back clear of theentanglement.
The easing-off of the strain on the chain gave Tressidar warning.Promptly he ordered "easy astern," at the same time megaphoning hissuspicions to the nearest steamboats.
Unprovided with explosive grapnels, the boats were unable to make anend of the submarine by detonating a charge of gun-cotton against herhull. The coup de gr?ce would have to be administered by adestroyer, and up to the present no attempt had been made by theboats to summon one to their assistance. Officers and men werethoroughly enjoying their novel duck hunt, and were in no hurry tofinish the sport.
But when the submarine commenced to back astern the possibility ofher disengaging herself from the toils became apparent. Quickly twopicquet-boats dashed in opposite directions across her supposedtrack, each craft towing a stout grass-line astern, to which wereattached lumps of metal in order to sink the otherwise buoyant fibre.
The operation was successful, for the rope, caught by the revolvingpropellers, wound round the shafting like coils of steel, until theelectric motors were brought to a dead stop.
"That's done the trick," exclaimed the lieutenant gleefully. "We'vecollared the tin of sardines and now we'll have to wait for thetin-opener. What water have we?"
A cast of the lead gave eleven and a half fathoms with a bottom ofmud mingled with shells and coarse sand. The submarine, findingherself disabled, had "sounded" and was resting on the bed of thesea.
"Suppose we couldn't hike her clear and tow her alongside the'Anzac?'" hazarded Stephens, one of the subs. "A strain of the oldship's steam capstan would heave her to the surface in a brace ofshakes. Pity to rip up the strafed hooker when we have a chance ofcollaring her intact, isn't it?"
"May as well try," replied the lieutenant, who was loth to destroythe craft that had given him a "run for his money." "Tide's rising.We'll lower a couple of bights of chain and see if we can shift her.I don't suppose she has a deadweight of more than a couple oftons--if that. Hulloa! The ball's opening."
The German batteries had hitherto deferred opening fire for fear ofdamaging the submarine, which had left Zeebrugge and had made acircuitous course through Dutch waters. Having allowed her ample timeto get clear of the danger zone, the Huns had begun to fire.
"Hang it all!" ejaculated Tressidar. "We'll have to send for thedestroyers after all to finish the job."
But there was yet a respite, for the "Anzac" and two of her consortswere standing in and interposing themselves between the shore and theboats. In a few minutes the action became general, the 14-in. gunshurling their shells with terrific precision upon the hostilebatteries.
Slowly the tide rose, and with it the strain of the hawsers began totake up. Deeper sunk the hulls of the steamboats, but the submarineshowed no signs of leaving her muddy bed.
Unconcernedly the boats' crews "stood by," though not without risk,for, although the monitors successfully drew the enemy's fire,ricochets from the German guns came perilously close.
Su
ddenly bubbles appeared on the surface alongside the "Anzac's"picquet-boat's quarter, and with them a metal cylinder shot up frombeneath the water. To it was attached a light line and a canvas tallyon which was roughly scrawled the word "Communication."
"Steady, there," cautioned Tressidar, as one of the seamen preparedto fish up the object with his boat-hook. "Pass the bight of the lineunder it."
Ordering easy ahead, the sub. allowed the picquet-boat to travel asfar as the scope of chain permitted, at the same time taking a steadystrain with the bight of the rope until the cylinder broke away fromthe line that led to the submarine. Nothing happened so far as anexplosion was concerned, for the sub. had his suspicions that theremight have been a ruse on the part of the trapped Huns.
The cylinder was roughly twelve inches in diameter and two feet inheight. It was one of a regular pattern supplied to German submarinesfor sending communications to the surface in the event of the vesselmeeting with an accident that prevented her from rising. Thediameter, being exactly the same as that of the torpedo-tubes,enabled the canisters to be discharged through them by means ofcompressed air.
"What sort of a haul have you got there, Mr. Tressidar?" enquired thelieutenant. "H'm, communication, eh? Suppose it's all right. There'sno detonating mechanism inside, I hope?"
"I'll see sir," replied the sub., and ordering his men to the otherend of the boat, so as to be out of harm's way in the event of anexplosion, he unscrewed a disc in one of the ends of the cylinder.Within was a sheet of paper on which was written, "We surrender.Spare our lives. We will ascend in ten minutes from now--6.15 a.m.,mid-continental time. Max Falkenheim, Kapitan-leutnant."
"By Jove, sir, we've made a capture!" announced Tressidar, handingthe document to his superior officer. "It's signed by that fellowFalkenheim, the man who tried to escape from Auldhaig."
"And was afterwards rescued by some of his precious compatriots whenthey blew in the wall of his prison. I remember," added thelieutenant grimly. "One of the foxiest rascals that ever sailed underthe Black Cross ensign. Yes, by smoke, dulce et decorum est to laythat chap by the heels. Pity you cut that rope, though."
"Why, sir?" asked the sub.
"Because we cannot now reply to the strafed Huns. See, there's atelephonic receiver inside the cylinder, and the wires are led insidethe rope. Writing that note was to make sure that we should know oftheir willingness to surrender in case we didn't notice thetelephone. Confound that brute! That was a near one."
The lieutenant's remark was addressed to a huge shell that, havingalready ricochetted once, struck the water within twenty yards of thenearest steamboat, and rebounding again, finally disappeared in acolumn of spray a mile away. The displacement of water caused by theimpinging of the projectile made the little flotilla rock violently,while officers and men were drenched by the deluge of foam.
"Hurry up! Hurry up!" muttered the lieutenant impatiently, by way ofinvoking the submerged "U" boat. "You've had a good ten minutes andwe want to make your acquaintance."
A reply came in the form of a slight disturbance of the water. Thesubmarine was "blowing" her water-ballast tanks.
Then slowly--so gradually that the picquet-boats had ample time toback clear--the surrendered craft rose to the surface, as if dubiousof the fate that awaited her.
The conning-tower hatch was thrown open, and Kapitan Falkenheimappeared, followed by his unter-leutnant. Still in doubt as to theirreception, they saluted their conquerors, who punctiliously returnedthe compliment. At the same time the crew issued from the after-hatchand formed up, holding their hands above their heads.
"Ve vos surrender--so," shouted Falkenheim.
"All right," replied the British lieutenant. "We accept yoursurrender, provided you do no damage to your craft."
"Dot is so," agreed the kapitan. "Nodings done is to derunterseeboot."
Skilfully two of the picquet-boats were manoeuvred and broughtalongside the prize and the German officers and crew were taken off.The bridle of the moorings that had been the cause of the submarine'smisfortune was cast off--it had simply caught to the for'ardhorizontal rudders--and the vessel taken in tow.
A signal was made for a destroyer to take charge of the prize, sincethe steamboats were too small for the task. Their share of thebusiness was over. The kudos was theirs; they were content to shiftthe burden upon their comrades of the destroyer-flotilla.
Suddenly a bomb hurtled through the smoke-laden air and exploded witha terrific detonation close to the leading picquet-boat. The frailcraft literally crumpled up and disappeared in a cloud of smoke,leaving a sub-lieutenant and two badly wounded seamen struggling fordear life.
Overhead was a German double-fuselaged biplane, intent upon thedestruction of the captured submarine so that she might not fall intothe hands of the British.
Another bomb dropped, without effect beyond sending a fragment ofmetal through the funnel of the "Anzac's" steamboat. Regardless ofthe danger, other picquet-boats dashed up to rescue the survivors ofthe sunken craft, while from the approaching destroyer a steadystream of shells was directed upon the hostile battleplane.
Unconcernedly the German aviators hovered overhead, circling anddropping their lethal missiles with a set purpose, until a bombalighted fairly upon the fore-part of the submarine.
When the cloud of smoke had drifted away, the chagrined Britishsailors saw their prize had been snatched from their grasp. She wassinking.
Slowly her bows dipped. Her stern rose until the tips of her twinpropellers were visible, then with the violent inrush of water shedisappeared from sight and narrowly missed taking with her the"Anzac's" picquet-boat that was engaged in towing her.
But retribution was at hand. Heading swiftly towards the Germanaircraft was a British seaplane. So intent were the Hun airmen upontheir task of scattering the little flotilla that they failed tonotice the danger until the seaplane opened fire with her automaticgun.
Vainly the German aviators attempted to circle and bring their fixedgun to bear upon their attackers. The British seaplane had theequivalent to the weather-gauge of the old days of sailing--theadvantage of superior altitude.
Struck in a vital part, the enemy battleplane appeared to crumple upin mid-air. Falling like a stone, the machine struck the water atangled mass of struts and canvas. Quickly a picquet-boat hurried tothe aid of the foe, but she was too late.
The wreckage, upside-down, was kept from sinking by the onlyundamaged float. Strapped to their seats, the Hun pilot and observer,even if they had escaped the hail of bullets, were drowned like ratsin a trap.
"It's not been so dusty," commented the lieutenant in charge of thesteamboat flotilla as he gave the signal for the various boats toreturn to their respective ships. "Sorry we didn't get that 'U' boatinto port. Still, there's one the less."