The Third Officer: A Present-day Pirate Story Page 11

  CHAPTER X

  Investigations

  Accustomed to comparatively short hours of sleep, as are usualafloat, Burgoyne was up and about before the sun rose. In spite ofthe unusual stability of his hard bed--it was the first night he hadslept ashore for nearly four months--his rest was none the less goodon that account; but once awake he felt compelled to dress and goout.

  "What's up, old man?" inquired a drowsy voice, as Branscombe lifted atousled head from his pillow--or rather a pile of folded clothes.

  "Show a leg and shine, my festive," exclaimed the Third Officer."Come along, let's see if we can put in a swim before breakfast."

  Phil assented, dressed hurriedly, and accompanied Burgoyne into theopen air. By that time the sun was just showing above the edge of thecliff. The reek of wood-fires mingled with the soft, cool air.Already in three separate canvas-screened enclosures the cooks of therespective crews were busy. Alwyn wondered whether Miss Vivian wasone of the energetic ones.

  "Our fair passenger has weathered another day, old thing," remarkedBranscombe.

  "Yes," agreed Burgoyne. "That's so. Hope we'll be able to work thestunt all right."

  "It won't be for want of trying on your part," rejoined Phil. "MissVivian told me last night that you nearly jumped down her throat'cause she'd washed her face."

  "Was she angry about it?" demanded Alwyn.

  "Not a bit, only amused."

  "Amused?" retorted the Third Officer. "Just like a girl. She'd neversee the serious side of things. I wouldn't mind betting that she'lldisobey orders, and show a sparkling healthy complexion to everyslant-eyed Chink that comes into the compound."

  The two chums were passing within thirty yards of the hut with thecanvas annexe that formed the "galley ". As they did so a grimy,laughing face with a mass of cropped hair appeared through a slit inthe canvas, and a hand was waved in friendly greeting.

  "You've lost your bet, old man," observed Phil. "Wonder if she heardwhat we were saying?"

  "At any rate," rejoined Alwyn. "She's carried out orders. Sheprobably realizes that this isn't a scene from _The Pirates ofPenzance_. So far all's well, but honestly I don't like the look ofthings. There's something very fishy about the way that scoundrelPorfirio is treating us. This sort of conciliatory business hassomething behind it. I shouldn't be surprised if the blighter doesn'tshow himself in his true colours before very long."

  The two chums walked to the extreme north-western point of theisland, where further progress was barred by the sheer descent ofcliff. It was hardly what Burgoyne had expected. He had hoped to finda path giving access to the shallow bay, but there was none.

  Foiled of the chance of having a bathe, Burgoyne began taking stockof the surroundings. From where he stood the barrier reef enclosingthe lagoon presented an unbroken wall of surf-lashed coral. There wasnot the suspicion of an opening. Immediately off the point the reefextended seawards for nearly a couple of miles, diverging shorewardsuntil towards the north-eastern and south-western points of theisland the lagoon narrowed to about one hundred yards. On thenorthern face of the island the coast was but slightly indented, thecliffs being of almost uniform height. But on the western side therewas a bay of considerable width, bounded on the southern extremity bya hook-shaped spur of lofty ground, off which was an islet of aboutan acre in extent, and only about half the height of the nearmostcliffs of the main island. The cliffs did not drop sheer into thewater, but were fronted by a broad and slightly-shelving beach ofglistening white sand.

  As far as Burgoyne could make out, this side of the island wasundefended by guns in position. Evidently the authorities responsiblefor the safety of the secret base deemed the frowning cliffs to besufficient protection. An army formed up on that beach would beuseless for assault, since the smooth overhanging precipices wereunscaleable.

  Presently Alwyn, who had been silently contemplating the view,startled his companion by declaring:

  "I'm going to explore that beach, old son!"

  "Nonsense!" protested Phil. "The cliff's too smooth. There's not asingle niche in it. You'd be smashed to a jelly for a dead cert."

  "I'm not trying at present," said Burgoyne. "But I mean to some day.And by a rope."

  "Rope! What rope?" asked his friend.

  "We'll have to make up one from short ends," replied Alwyn. "It'seasy to cut off short lengths and stow them under our clothes. Thenat night, or at any odd time if it comes to that, we can make up arope long enough to reach the beach, and strong enough to bear atleast a couple of men. Then if we can get hold of some files----"

  "You'll have a job, old son," interrupted Branscombe. "I was speakingto Withers about that very thing last night. There's a mighty sharpChink in charge of the stores in the workshops, and he takes care tocount every blessed thing in the tool line that's issued out, andwhen they are returned, he---- Hello! What's the move now?"

  Breaking off in the midst of his description of Li Whong's methods,the Fourth Officer pointed in the direction of the conical hill whichhad attracted the chums' attention on their first journey from thetunnel to the compound.

  Owing to the contour of the ground forming the prisoners' camp, thewhole of the enclosed space was under direct observation, not onlyfrom the two block-houses, but from the hill as well. A few minutesbefore the flat top of the hill was seemingly bare. Now a tallflag-staff had been reared within the space of thirty seconds. Evenas the chums looked, they saw a red-and-black flag broken out smartlyat the masthead.

  "What's that for, I wonder?" remarked Phil.

  "Hanged if I know," replied Alwyn. "Precious little good I shouldimagine, since there's no wind. See anything seaward? I do, by Jove!There's a vessel nearly hull down."

  "The _Malfilio_ most likely," hazarded Branscombe. "Why doesn't sheuse wireless?"

  "She does; to keep in touch with that seaplane of hers," repliedBurgoyne. "But I don't fancy she would communicate by radio with herisland."

  "Why not? There's wireless on board the _Kittiwake_ and that othercraft, and they would have had ours if they hadn't blown the cabin tosmithereens."

  "Yes," agreed the Third Officer. "They've got the apparatus rightenough, but Porfirio, although he's a rotten pirate, is no fool. Ifthe island made use of it its position could be fixed by directionalwireless, and that's what Porfirio doesn't want for obvious reasons.I think I twig the meaning of that flag. Look over there."

  He pointed towards the eastern side of the island to a positionslightly northward of the entrance to the tunnel. There, as on thelast occasion when the _Malfilio_ made the harbour, three heavycolumns of smoke were rising. That was the pre-arranged signal thatthe pirate cruiser could make her base without fear of the islandhaving fallen into other hands during her absence.

  "She's evidently been disappointed," remarked Branscombe. "There isno other craft with her."

  "Unless," added Burgoyne, "she's sunk her victim, in which case shewouldn't have had time to remove the cargo. Sorry we can't wait tosee her negotiate the reefs, but if we are to have any breakfast wemust be getting back. Talking of grub, old thing, reminds me: I'mgoing to ask Colonel Vivian to hold back at least one tin of stuff aday. It'll keep, and there's no knowing if we may want it in ahurry."

  As the chums strolled back to the huts they noticed that theflagstaff on the observation hill had been lowered, while a fewseconds later they heard the hum of an aerial propeller.

  Scanning the sky, they spotted the _Malfilio's_ seaplane flying at animmense height. Then, shutting off the motors, it volplaned steeplyand vanished from sight behind the cliffs surrounding the harbour.

  "That's what we want," declared Branscombe sententiously. "Pity weweren't in the Royal Air Force. Old man, we've been neglecting animportant part of our education, what?"

  "Yes," agreed Alwyn. "If either of us could manage that, we might beable to collar the seaplane one dark night, and be in Honolulu beforedaybreak. However, I still hold out hopes that we'll be able to cutout one of the small sailing craft."

&
nbsp; "How far are we from Honolulu?" asked his companion.

  "'Bout eight hundred miles, I think," was the reply. "And there's theNorth Equatorial Current against us, to say nothing of the Nor'eastTrades. No, Honolulu's dead off as far as sailing there is concerned.I'd make for the Marshall Islands, or even the Gilbert Islands. It'sfarther, but one would stand a better chance. Heigh-o! We've got tofind a boat first."

  Breakfast was already in progress when they arrived at the camp.Directly the meal was over the men were paraded for inspection. BlackStrogoff was not present for this function. He rarely was, accordingto Captain Davis, since he had a strong aversion to early rising. Butthe under-officer, Fernando, deputized for him, reading outinstructions, written in peculiar English, with an accent thatrendered the words almost unintelligible.

  With one exception the routine of the various parties was the same asyesterday's; but four men were told off to provide fish for the_Donibristle's_ crew. Later on Burgoyne found out that this was to bedone every third day, the intervening days being allocated tofishing-parties drawn from the _Kittiwake's_ and _Alvarado's_ crewsrespectively.

  "I'm on that, if it can be worked," decided Burgoyne. "You fellowsknow how to carry on with the crane."

  The men expressed no surprise nor resentment at the Third Officer'sdecision to "put in for a soft job". Knowing Burgoyne to be a smartofficer who never spared himself when there was work to be done, theyguessed that he had something up his sleeve.

  So when the working parties marched through the gate of the compound,one of the crew who somewhat resembled Burgoyne wore the ThirdOfficer's drill coat and cap, while the latter in his shirt sleevesfell in with three others, and was supplied with lines and bait by anunsuspecting Chinese pirate.

  After the customary precautions on the part of the guards, Burgoyne'sparty was taken through the tunnel to the beach. Alwyn suspected thatthe fishing operations would be conducted from the rocks, but to hisgreat satisfaction the Chinaman pointed to a boat, and made signs forit to be launched.

  The boat was a heavy one, being about eighteen feet in length anddouble-ended. There were air-tanks under the side benches, while,differing from the majority of ship's lifeboats, it had acentre-plate. Although it was fitted for masts and sails, they werenot in evidence.

  As the Chinaman unlocked the padlock and unrove the heavy chainsecuring the boat--it was the endmost one of a tier--Burgoyne pointedto the mast-clamps.

  "No sailee. Makee pullee long-time," said the Chinaman. "You golongee fetchee oar one chop quick."

  He pointed to a long, low building abutting the cliff. Burgoyneobeyed with alacrity. He was all out to find things, and the more helearnt of the position and contents of the various buildings, themore he felt pleased with himself.

  The door of the shed was open, but a brief glance told him that itwas secured, when shut, by means of an exceptionally stout hasp andpadlock. Within were four of the pirates playing cards, while twomore were watching the game over the others' shoulders. They took butlittle notice of the new-comer and continued their game.

  Burgoyne made good use of his eyes as soon as they grew accustomed tothe comparative darkness within the building. On each side of theshed were lockers, with brackets above them clamped to the walls. Onthese brackets were several oars of various sizes, boat-hooks, andlight spars. Overhead, resting on the beams supporting theroof-trusses, were boats' masts and sails, some of the latter looselyfurled, and others in painted canvas covers. Judging by the dust, itseemed as if this lot of gear had not been disturbed for aconsiderable time.

  By means of the oars stacked against the wall, Burgoyne hoistedhimself on the rafters, and, selecting what he took to be the mastsand sails belonging to the lifeboat, he lowered them to the floor.Then, heavily laden, he returned to the beech with the utmostsang-froid.

  The Chinaman was talking to one of his compatriots, and failed tonotice the Third Officer's approach. By the time the former hadfinished his conversation, Burgoyne and his three men had alreadystepped the masts and were preparing to hoist the sails.

  "No can do," shouted the pirate. "No makee sailee. Takee um backvelly quick. Fetchee oar and makee row."

  Burgoyne complied. He had gained his point. He had found out at thefirst attempt the proper gear belonging to the boat.

  He replaced it carefully, but rammed the truck of the mast withconsiderable force against the end of the building.

  "That'll help loosen the boarding," he soliloquized. "Now for theoars."

  The pirates were still deep in their game. Deftly Alwyn placed a pairof stout ash oars by the side of the lifeboat's masts and sails, sothat they would be invisible from the floor; then selecting anothercouple and four pairs of rowlocks he returned to the boat.

  It took the united efforts of four men to run her down the beach intothe water, but, Burgoyne reflected, two might perform the operationif there were rollers to assist in the launching. Then, again, therewas the weight of the Chinaman, who had already clambered in and wassitting aft and holding the tiller.

  Thigh-deep in water, the _Donibristle's_ men waded before theyscrambled on board. The oars were shipped, and with long easy strokesthe boat headed towards the entrance of the harbour.

  Passing within a couple of boats' lengths of their former ship, themen gave curious glances at the old _Donibristle_, on board of whichBranscombe's party were unloading No. 1 hold. Standing at the head ofthe accommodation ladder was Black Strogoff.

  "No tricks, you fellows!" he shouted. "You'll be under observationall the time." Then he added something in Chinese, and the Orientalseated aft solemnly held up an automatic pistol before returning itto the folds of his loose, blue linen jacket.

  The warning was unnecessary. Burgoyne had not the slightest intentionof giving his captors the slip. When he did he would take good carethat his revolver, which was now hidden under the floor of his hut,would once again be nestling against his ankle.

  Again luck was in his favour. The pirate in charge of the boat signedfor the men to continue rowing, and steered towards the entrance.They were going to fish in the lagoon it appeared.

  Although working an oar, Burgoyne frequently looked ahead over hisshoulder. He noted the mass of towering rock that formed the screento the entrance when viewed from seaward. He wondered which of thetwo channels was the main approach; the northern one was the broader,but the boat was taking the southern approach, which was barely fiftyyards wide between the southern arm of the harbour and the inner sideof the barrier island.

  A quarter of a mile's steady pull brought the boat clear of the massof rock on their port hand, and afforded an uninterrupted viewseaward. Half a mile away was the coral reef, pierced by a deepchannel through which at that moment the _Malfilio_ was returning.She was moving slowly, but before the lifeboat had rounded thesouth-eastern point of the island the pirate cruiser had turned intothe northern approach channel. So far so good; Burgoyne had learntthe secrets of the big-ship channel leading to the pirates' lair.

  It was hot work rowing under the blazing sun, but Burgoyne was not inthe least keen to stop. It was an unknown water. He was now for thefirst time making the acquaintance of the southern side of theisland, and if the boat carried on long enough they would soon openup the western side, which Alwyn had already studied from the cliffsof the compound.

  The Chinaman gave no sign to anchor. Lightly grasping the tiller, hewas puffing contentedly at a pipe with a bowl about the size of asmall thimble, the contents of which he replenished every fiveminutes or so. Alwyn found himself speculating upon what was in themind of this inscrutable-faced Oriental. Was he gloating over thefact that he was now a taskmaster set in authority over the "foreigndevils"? What a tale would Ah Ling, late sampan-man on the crowdedYang-ste-Kiang, tell should he ever return to the Flowery Land.

  Presently the lifeboat entered the narrowest part of the lagoon,close to the south-western side of the island. Here the shelteredwater was barely thirty yards in width. The spray from thesurf-thrashed reef descended
in cooling showers upon the perspiringrowers. The grating of the rowlocks and the creaking of the ash oarswere drowned by the thunder of the breakers, yet in that narrow beltthe boat was in perfect safety.

  Half a mile farther on the reef receded from the land and disclosed anarrow passage to the open sea. Here the island terminated in ahooked promontory that Burgoyne had previously seen from thecompound. Passing between the steep headland and the rounded isletthat lay off it, the lifeboat entered the broad but sheltered baythat comprised the major portion of the western side of the secretbase.

  Ah Ling signed to the rowers to lay on their oars. The boat glidedanother fifty yards before the Chinaman gave the word to drop anchor.

  "Now you makee catchee fishee," he said. "No catchee, no dinner: cando?"

  The four white men began baiting the hooks. Burgoyne, in the midst ofthe operation, took the opportunity to secrete one pair of rowlocksin a little locker in the bows. Then, having cast his line overboard,he prepared to make good use of his eyes.

  Interruptions in the form of bites were numerous. Weird-looking fish,most of which he failed to recognize, took the bait with avidity, andall four men were constantly hauling in the spoil and depositing itin a slimy, writhing mass on the bottom boards.

  From the spot where the boat lay at anchor, the cliffs were so highthat the observation hill was hidden by the beetling crags. There wasa sandy beach that terminated abruptly at about a hundred yards fromeach of the limits of the bay. Towards the northernmost part thecliffs, although smooth and projecting towards the top, wereconsiderably rugged at the base, a fact that Burgoyne had been unableto notice from his point of vantage on the brink of the precipice.There were one or two caves, but of what extent, and whether theirfloors were above high-water mark, he had no means of ascertaining.Almost immediately above the nearmost cave was the end of the ironfence enclosing the compound. It projected at least six feet beyondthe edge of the cliff, and, fanwise, the same distance below it.

  "That'll be a bit of a nut to crack, sir," observed one of the men,reading the Third Officer's thought.

  The speaker was Jasper Minalto, one of the _Donibristle's_quartermasters, a native of St. Mary's in the Scilly Islands. Talland broad-shouldered, and with the raven locks and flashing eyes thatcharacterize so many of the Cornish folk, his strength and agilitywere remarkable. In the dog-watches, during the _Donibristle's_uninterrupted runs across the Pacific, Minalto would amuse andastonish his messmates by his feats of strength. He could break a"nickel" between the tips of the thumb and forefinger of either hand;snap a piece of whipcord on the muscles of his arms or legs; but hisshow piece was to bend the galley poker by striking it against hisbare forearm. Yet, in spite of his ponderous bulk and brute strength,he was an easy-tempered, good-natured man whose almost unlimitedenergy was concealed under an exterior of careless repose. He wouldseem to tackle a job with lazy indifference, but in nine cases out often he would finish it thoroughly long before others engaged upon asimilar task.

  "Do you think that fence would baulk you, Minalto?" asked Alwyn.

  The quartermaster deliberately hauled a struggling fish into the boatas he replied:

  "Say the word, sir, and I'll du it. Afore I wur nine I'd scale thefence at Star Castle, down at home, an' it wur no better nor worsethan yon, I'll allow."

  Minalto spoke without any indication of bragging, and Burgoyne,knowing his reputation, realized that this was the man he wanted.When the opportunity occurred, the Scilly Islander would be the manchosen to accompany him upon the daring expedition that was alreadybeing developed in Burgoyne's mind.

  At about eleven in the forenoon Ah Ling, remarking "Muchee finee;upee anchor ", announced that it was time for the fishing operationsto end.

  With seventy pounds of fish to their credit, the men rowed back tothe harbour. Burgoyne's "catch" was the smallest, but he had obtainedsome very useful information which he hoped to employ to good purposeat the first favourable opportunity.

  Nevertheless it came as a bit of a shock when, on emerging out of thetunnel, he was stopped by Black Strogoff.

  "I gave orders for your men to go to fish," exclaimed the pirateangrily. "Your place is with the men up there."

  He pointed to the cliff on which some of the _Donibristle's_ crewwere still laboriously hauling cargo from the beach.

  "Another time," continued Strogoff--"another time you go to fishinstead of work the crane, I'll have you beaten till you cannotstand. You got that? Good, an' don't you forget it."