CHAPTER XXI
A Good Night's Work
The _Cormorant_ sea-plane flew for the best part of an hour, coveringpractically every square yard of the lagoon, and it was not until thesandy bottom began to grow dim in the increasingly-slanting rays ofthe sun that Claverhouse and Trevear came down.
"Not a sign, sir," replied Trevear. "We could see the wreck of thefrigate plainly enough. There are a couple of foul patches, one alittle to the south-west of the entrance to the lagoon, and anotheroff the south-eastern point of the island. The _Fusi Yama_ might belying on the weeds on one of them."
"I don't think so," replied Harborough. "In his yarn Williamsmentioned that the German cruiser towed her prize into the lagoon andported helm when she got inside. So I take it that the object of oursearch lies northward of a line drawn between the entrance and ourshore-station."
"We'll tackle it again to-morrow morning," said Claverhouse. "Alittle after eleven o'clock is the best time."
"Very good," agreed Harborough. "We'll rig awnings on the boats, andthat will give us a chance during the heat of the day."
Dick Beverley was tremendously excited over the news of the discoveryof the frigate. It appealed to him almost as much as if the _FusiYama_ had been located.
"Think my ankle will be well enough for me to go afloat, Bob?" heasked that evening, just as Bobby was "turning in".
"That's for you to say," replied his brother. "It's your ankle, notmine."
"I felt fit to get about yesterday," declared Dick, "only the skipperwouldn't let me get out of my bunk. Do you think Swaine will let mehave a diving-dress and go down? It must be frightfully exciting."
"You'd better ask him," replied Bobby diplomatically.
"What was she like?" asked Dick. "The frigate, I mean."
"Smothered in seaweed, and as rotten as a ripe pear."
"And yet Trevear saw her lying on the mud and weed," said Dickthoughtfully. "I suppose the two vessels weren't lying closetogether?"
"By Jove, Dick!" exclaimed his brother. "That looks like business.Well, good-night. I'll speak to Harborough to-morrow, and see ifhe'll let you go in one of the boats."
Bobby altered his plans. Instead of "turning in"--he had beensleeping on board the _Titania_ since his brother's accident--he wenton deck and dropped into the skiff dinghy, which was lying at thelower boom. Then, taking to the oars, he rowed silently towards theshore.
It was a calm, moonless night. Overhead the stars blazed like pointsof fire, their reflections scintillating on the smooth surface of thelagoon.
He landed on the coral beach, dug the fluke of the boat's anchorfirmly into the ground, and made his way toward the encampment. Ahurricane-lamp was still burning in the tent shared by Claverhouse,Trevear, and Swaine.
"Hallo!" exclaimed the former in some surprise. "What brings youashore this time o' night?"
"Shop, old bird," replied Bobby.
"Let rip, then," rejoined Alec, in mock tones of resignation."Thought, perhaps, you came to borrow my safety-razor."
"You two fellows both saw the wreck, I suppose," said Beverley,addressing the airmen. "What shape did it appear like?"
"Where's a pencil?" inquired Trevear, fumbling in the breast-pocketof his white drill tunic. "Right-o. Paper's scarce in this part ofthe world, so I'll sketch it on the table. There you are."
"Yes; that's like it," agreed Alec.
"You've drawn the plan of a boat," continued Bobby. "Swaine swearsshe's lying on her beam ends."
"So she is," declared the diving-expert.
"You didn't go round her, did you?" asked Beverley.
"Not much use," he answered. "I could see she wasn't the _Fusi Yama_,and there was a pretty stiff current setting round the bows andstern. I was glad to use her as a sort of breakwater."
"Pity you hadn't carried on round," resumed Bobby; "lying on her beamends with a broken back, she wouldn't present such a profile asTrevear has drawn. I believe--and Dick put me on to the wheeze--thatthe _Fusi Yama_ is lying fairly close alongside and nearer inshore."
"By Jove, Beverley!" exclaimed the three men in chorus.
"Hope you're right," added Trevear, anxious to restore his lostprestige as an aerial observer.
"Game to have another shot at it to-night?" inquired Swaine,beginning to pull on his rubber boots.
"Surely you're not going to dive again to-night?" asked Claverhouse.
"If it comes to that," said Swaine, "it makes very little differencewhether it's night or day at that depth and in muddy water. But whatI propose doing is putting off in a boat and taking soundings. Isthere a lead-line in the dinghy, old thing?"
"What are you fellows doing kicking up such a deuce of a row at thistime of night?" inquired a gruff voice. "Go to bed, and get yourbeauty sleep, you noisy blighters."
Griffiths, blinking in the light, had shoved his head and shouldersthrough the tent-flap.
"Just the man we want, soldier!" exclaimed Beverley. "A littlepractice at rowing a dinghy, you know."
"Not in these trousers," protested the ex-Engineer officer,displaying a leg clad in pyjamas of variegated hues. "What's themove? Are you fellows trying to camouflage a nocturnal bridge-party?"
"At him, lads!" exclaimed Swaine, and the four hurled themselves uponthe interloper. In spite of his desperate resistance Griffiths wasdragged into the tent, and while Beverley sat on his chest the othersrammed a pair of rubber boots on his feet and a sou'-wester on hishead.
"Kamerad!" exclaimed Griffiths. "Chuck it! I'll fall in with yourrotten scheme, whatever it is."
By this time the commotion had aroused the remainder of theshore-party, and to them the nature of the proposed expedition wasexplained.
"Right-o!" said Vivian. "We'll launch the cutter and have a moonlighttrip, only there isn't any moon."
Eleven men put off from the beach, four in the skiff-dinghy, the restin the cutter. Expectations ran high, and everyone was in goodspirits.
"Not so much noise there," cautioned Beverley, "or you'll wake theOld Man."
"We'll wake him right enough, if we find the ship," rejoined Swaine."Port helm a bit, Bobby; I can see the mark-buoys."
The first cast of the lead gave fifteen and a half fathoms. Workingshorewards, they found, contrary to their expectations, that thelagoon grew deeper, the soundings increasing to seventeen. Then,without warning, the depth decreased to eight.
"Lower a small grapnel," suggested Swaine. "Bend a stout line to it,and we may drag up something."
This they did, and very soon the barbed point of the grapnel engaged.
"Something pretty tough," declared Bobby, as the transom of thedinghy was drawn almost level with the water under the efforts of hercrew of four, "We've lost that grapnel."
"In a good cause," added Claverhouse.
"We'll get the cutter to bear a hand at hauling it up," continuedBobby.
For some minutes it seemed as if the united strength of eleven strongmen was of no avail. The cutter, in spite of her relatively greaterbuoyancy, was well down aft under the terrific strain.
"Belay and go for'ard," ordered Beverley.
The eleven men were crowded uncomfortably in the fore part of thecutter when suddenly the strain on the grapnel relaxed. The boats'bows dipped. Volumes of water poured in over her bows and under shewent, leaving her crew struggling to clear each other.
Almost before the men in the dinghy could grasp the situationproperly, there was a terrific swirl in the water and a largegreenish-white object shot up to the surface.
It was a ship's boat, green with weed. Its copper air-tanks stillretained their buoyancy, and the additional strain imparted by thegrapnel had wrenched the boat from the lashings that secured it tothe chocks. Fortunately, in its violent ascent to the surface theboat missed the evicted crew of the cutter.
The water was warm and there were no sharks about, or if there werethe unusual splashing had scared them off. The cutter, being providedwith air-compartments, floated with her gunwale a couple
of inchesabove the surface, so that with the aid of a brace of buckets and abaler the water was soon thrown out and the men regained their craft.
This done the dinghy and the cutter started in pursuit of the unknownboat, which, in the grip of the current, was drifting towards theentrance to the lagoon.
Holding on to the "horse" of the recovered boat, Beverley scraped theslimy deposit of weed from a portion of the transom. Underneath, infaded letters that were still legible, was painted the name _FusiYama_.
"Good enough!" declared Bobby triumphantly. "Let her go. I don'tthink she'll drift out of the lagoon. If she does, it is of littleconsequence. Now, you blighters, pull for the _Titania_."
The rest of the proceedings savoured of a "glorious rag", for onmaking fast alongside the yacht the crews began shouting, firingVerey lights, beating suspended brass crutches, banging tin balerswith stretchers, and raising pandemonium generally.
In the midst of the hubbub Harborough and Villiers came on deck, justas Swaine, forestalling his comrades, was sounding a terrific tocsinon the _Titania's_ bell.
"What the----" began Harborough.
"We've come off to splice the main-brace, sir," shouted Beverley.
"Have you?" rejoined the baronet. "For what reason?"
The answer, issuing simultaneously from a dozen lusty throats, wasunanimous and emphatic:
"We've found the _Fusi Yama_!"