Wilmshurst of the Frontier Force Part 2

"How about turning out the machine-gun section?" asked Spofforth.

"Look here, if you fellows want to be ready for tiffen you'd better get a move on. Suppose----"

"Still they come!" exclaimed Laxdale, as a knock sounded on the jalousie of the cabin door. "Come in."

It was Tari Barl in search of his master.

"Tarry Barrel, you old sinner," said Wilmshurst, "can you catch a rat?"

"Me lib for find Mutton Chop, sah," replied the Haussa saluting. "Find him one time and come quick."

Dudley looked enquiringly at his cabin-mate, knowing that Mutton Chop was Laxdale's servant.

"Oh, so that rascal's the culprit," declared Laxdale. "Didn't I say I thought so?"

"Bring Mutton Chop here," ordered Wilmshurst, addressing the broadly smiling Tari Barl.

The Haussa vanished, presently to reappear with almost an exact counterpart of himself. It would be a difficult matter for a stranger to tell the difference between the two natives.

"What d'ye mean, you black scoundrel, by putting a rat into my traps?"

demanded Laxdale.

"No did put, sah; him lib for come one time," expostulated Laxdale's servant. "Me play, 'Come to cook-house door,' den him catchee."

Producing a small native flute Mutton Chop began to play a soft air.

For perhaps thirty seconds every one and everything else was still in the desolated cabin; then slowly but without any signs of furtiveness the rat pushed his head between the folds of Wilmshurst's tunic, sniffed, and finally emerged, sat up on his hind legs, his long whiskers quivering with evident delight.

Then, with a deft movement, Mutton Chop's fingers closed gently round the little animal, and to the astonishment of the four officers the Haussa placed the rodent in his breast pocket.

"Me hab mascot same as officers, sahs!" he explained. "No put him here, sah; me make tidy."

"And there's the officers' call!" exclaimed Dudley as a bugle rang out.

"Dash it all, how's a fellow to put on the thing?"

And he indicated the crumpled tunic.

CHAPTER III

THE RAIDER

Accompanied by five other transports and escorted by the light cruiser _Tompion_, the _Zungeru_ ploughed her way at a modest fifteen knots through the tropical waters of the Atlantic. Although there was little to fear from the attacks of U-boats, for up to the present these craft had not appeared south of the Equator, mines had been laid by disguised German s.h.i.+ps right in the area where numerous trade routes converge in the neighbourhood of the Cape of Good Hope, while there were rumours, hitherto unconfirmed, that an armed raider was at large in the South Atlantic.

Provided the convoy kept together there was little danger in daytime in that direction, but the possibilities of the raider making a sudden dash during the hours of darkness and using gun and torpedo with disastrous results could not be overlooked.

The issue of lifebelts to the native troops puzzled them greatly. They could not understand the precaution, for they were ignorant of the danger of making voyages in war-time. Their faith in the "big canoes"

of King George was so firm that, sea-sickness notwithstanding, they had no doubts or fears concerning their safe arrival in the land where Briton, Boer, Indian and African were doing their level best to stamp out the blight of German kultur.

At four bells (2 a.m.) on the fifth day of the voyage Wilmshurst was roused from his sleep by a commotion on deck. Men were running hither and thither carrying out a series of orders shouted in stentorian tones. The _Zungeru_ was altering course without slackening speed, listing noticeably to starboard as the helm was put hard over.

Almost at the same time Laxdale awoke.

"What's up?" he enquired drowsily.

"I don't know," replied his companion. "I can hear Spofforth and Danvers going on deck. Let's see what's doing."

Acting upon this suggestion the two officers hastily donned their great coats over their pyjamas, slipped their feet into their canvas slices and went on deck.

It was a calm night. The crescent moon was low down in the western sky, but its brilliance was sufficient to enable objects to be seen distinctly. Silhouetted against the slanting beams was the escorting cruiser, which was pelting along at full speed and overhauling the _Zungeru_ hand over fist. Although the cruiser and her convoy were without steaming lights the former's yard-arm lamp was blinking out a message in Morse.

The transports were in "double column line ahead," steaming due west instead of following the course that would bring them within sight of Table Bay. Less than a cable's length on the starboard column's beam was the cruiser. She had already overtaken two of the transports, and was now lapping the _Zungeru's_ quarter.

The object of this nocturnal display of activity was now apparent.

Less than a mile away was a large steamer, which had just steadied on her helm and was now on a parallel course to that of the convoy.

"Anything startling?" enquired a major of one of the _Zungeru's_ officers who was pa.s.sing.

"Oh, no," was the reply. "A tramp was trying to cut across our bows.

The _Tompion_ has signalled to know what's her little game. She's just replied that she's the steams.h.i.+p _Ponto_, and wants to know whether there have been any signs of a supposed raider."

The s.h.i.+p's officer continued on his way. The two subalterns, in no hurry to return to their bunks, for the night air was warm and fragrant, remained on deck, watching the manoeuvres of the cruiser and the _Ponto_.

The exchange of signals continued for about ten minutes, then the _Tompion_ resumed her station at the head of the convoy, while the _Ponto_ took up her position on the beam of the starboard line.

Presently in obedience to a signal the s.h.i.+ps altered helm and settled down on their former course, the large steamer following suit, although dropping steadily astern, for her speed was considerably less than that of the transports.

Presently the s.h.i.+p's officer returned. As he pa.s.sed Wilmshurst stopped him, enquiring whether anything had developed.

"The _Ponto_ has cold feet," explained the _Zungeru's_ officer. "Her Old Man seems to be under the impression that there is a Hun scuttling around, so he's signalled for permission to tail on to us. The cruiser offered no objection, provided the speed of the convoy is unaffected, so by daylight the tramp will be hull-down, I expect."

"Much ado about nothing," remarked Laxdale. "I say, old man, let's turn in again. What's the matter with you?"

He grasped Wilmshurst by the arm. The subaltern, apparently heedless of the touch, was gazing fixedly at the tramp. The mercantile officer and Laxdale both followed the direction of his look, the former giving vent to a low whistle.

From above the gunwale of a boat stowed amids.h.i.+ps on the _Ponto_ a feeble light glimmered.

"Help--German raider," it signalled.

"You read it?" enquired the sailor hurriedly, as if to confirm the evidence of his own eyes.

"Yes," replied Wilmshurst, and repeated the signal.

Without another word the _Zungeru's_ officer turned and raced to the bridge. In a few moments the signal was pa.s.sed on to the _Tompion_ by means of a flashlamp, the rays of which were invisible save from the direction of the receiver.

"Very good," was the cruiser's reply. "Carry on."

A little later the general order was flashed in to the convoy.

"Increase speed to seventeen knots."