Rounding up the Raider: A Naval Story of the Great WarWesterman, Percy F. (Percy Francis)
General
Rounding up the Raider: A Naval Story of the Great War
Westerman, Percy F. (Percy Francis)
World War, 1914-1918 -- Juvenile fiction; World War, 1914-1918 -- Naval operations -- Juvenile fiction
"There's a canoe awaiting us," reported O'Hara. "The sea's calm.
To-night's the night. You told me that the _Pelikan's_ people left a
whaler and plenty of provisions and stores hidden on the island. With
luck we ought to be able to fetch there, resurrect the boat, and make a
dash for Zanzibar. We'd have the S.W. monsoon with us all the way, and
if we fell in with one of our ships so much the better."
"Where's your precious discovery?" asked Denbigh.
Accompanying his chum to the edge of the cliff O'Hara pointed out the
canoe.
"H'm, not much of a craft to make a voyage to a sandbank twenty-three
miles from land," remarked Denbigh.
"We can work inside the lagoon for several miles and then keep close
inshore until we reach Ras What's-its-name," continued O'Hara
optimistically. "I've seen these native canoes miles out to sea before
to-day. They seem pretty seaworthy."
While daylight lasted the three chums rested, after taking the
precaution of gathering a supply of coco-nuts and roots. The subs eyed
the latter with misgivings, in spite of Armstrong's assurances that
they were both edible and nourishing.
As soon as the sun had set behind the boundless mangrove forests the
daring trio made their way to the spot where the canoe was lying. The
craft was about twenty-four feet in length, but only four in beam.
With her half-dozen short paddles, a mast and sail, suitable only for
running before the wind, and a stone jar half-full of water. Owing to
the porosity of the earthenware the liquid was remarkably cool. A few
lengths of net completed the equipment, but these were considerately
left behind, since there was no need for unnecessary spoliation of the
natives, even though they were, perhaps unwillingly, subjects of Kaiser
Wilhelm II.
The canoe was light enough to enable the three men to carry her down to
the water's edge. Without delay they pushed off and headed for the
reef.
Here, on the lee side of the extensive coral ledge, they were in
comparative safety. The long line of foaming breakers thundering up
the reef afforded a guide to the position of the ledges; it deadened
all other sounds, and since no native boats would be likely to indulge
in night fishing, there was little risk of detection.
"We have company, you see," remarked Armstrong, pointing to a
phosphorescent swirl less than twenty yards astern. The disturbance of
the placid water was caused by the dorsal fin of a huge shark, that,
scenting a possible prey, was zigzagging in the wake of the frail canoe.
"'We do so want to lose you; and we think you ought to go'," misquoted
O'Hara, laying down his paddle and grasping his rifle.
"Hold on!" cautioned the mate. "You'll not only bring up every shark
in the lagoon to make a meal of this beauty, but you'll arouse every
native within hearing distance. Don't fire unless the brute gets too
attentive; then use your pistol. It makes much less of a flash and
report."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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