第 27 页

The time had now arrived for the release of the British prisoners. I took a lantern, lighted it and, accompanied by Oldroyd, descended by way of the open after hatchway to the prison described by Traub. It was strongly constructed, consisting of a bulkhead reaching right across the ship, framed with two thicknesses of three-inch planking nailed to stout upright stanchions, the whole interior face being plated with sheet iron. In the middle was a door, similarly constructed, the opening being a bare foot wide, so that but one man could pass at a time, and even then only with difficulty, if he were inclined to be corpulent. In the upper part of the door there was a small opening, about four inches square, which seemed to be the only means of ventilating the place, and the stench which issued from it afforded one a pretty clear idea of what the state of the interior must be.

I inserted the key in the lock, turned it, and threw the door open—to be met by a gust of foul air that set me gasping. But there were fellow-countrymen of mine in there, to be freed without delay, so I raised the lantern and entered. The deck was covered with recumbent forms huddled up in attitudes eloquent of acute discomfort, and all, it seemed to me, awake and restless. As I entered several sat up and greeted me with a volley of oaths, while two or three gasped a cry for water—“For God’s sake bring us a drop of water to drink!”

“Lads,” I shouted, “I am an Englishman, and it is my happy privilege to tell you that I and my friends have captured this ship, and that you are free. Come out of this filthy hole and go up on deck, where you can get a breath of fresh air, and all the water you need. I want this place in which to confine the officers and crew of this ship. Steady now, please don’t crowd; you’ll get on deck all the quicker if you go quietly.” But my remonstrances were useless; the poor wretches were mad with eagerness to escape from that noisome den, and it was distressing to see how suffering had destroyed the Englishman’s innate sense of chivalry, causing the strong to hustle aside the weak. Meanwhile Oldroyd, outside, was doing his best to maintain some sort of order, at the same time cautioning the surging crowd against interfering in any way with the natives.

The German crew were loud in their protestations against our cruelty in forcing them to enter the noisome den from which we had just released the Englishmen; but we hustled them in, reminding them that the place had been deemed good enough for their prisoners, and that therefore there was no justification for complaint now that they were going to be allowed to sample its comforts for themselves. But the place was in such an indescribably filthy condition, owing to the fact that, despite their most urgent entreaties, the Englishmen had not been allowed to clean it out, or to leave it for any purpose since their first entrance, that I told our prisoners they should be provided with everything necessary to give it a thorough cleansing as soon as daylight arrived, and with that they were obliged to be satisfied. Moreover, it was no very great hardship for them, since the forecastle which they had just vacated was in little better condition.

Rejoining Mason for a moment, I learned from him that Traub had evinced a disposition to be troublesome during our absence: we therefore put the fellow in irons, locked him in his own cabin, and then, our possession of the ship being now complete, we proceeded to interview our released fellow-countrymen.

They consisted of the crews of two steamers which had been captured and sunk by the Seeadler in the Atlantic, and one steamer and a sailing ship which had met the same fate in the Pacific, and the captains of these vessels had a long story to tell of the cold-blooded, cruel callousness to which they had been subjected—some of them for more than two months—resulting in the death of no less than seventeen of their numbers; but there is no need to horrify and disgust the reader with the details of the Germans’ neglect. In return I briefly related our own story, in which, as might be expected, they took a lively interest. When I went on to state the plans which I had been formulating from the moment when I had become aware of the true character of the Seeadler, they at once pledged themselves and their crews to afford me all the assistance I might need; but they begged that they might first be permitted to have a run ashore and to spend a few days on the island in order to recruit their health after their long confinement below. To this proposal I, later on, agreed—with certain reservations—after consulting Kilau Minga as to his views on the subject; with the result that no sooner had the sun risen than a strong party of the released prisoners went ashore and, taking the necessary materials with them, set to work to rig up a camp on the spot where we had camped when we first landed.

I was not greatly surprised when, about mid-day, ’Thea and Lucy made their appearance on the beach. I was ashore at the time, for, as a matter of fact, I more than half anticipated their coming, and wanted to be there to receive them. And I was also by no means surprised to learn that when the girls awoke in the morning and discovered that we had quietly slipped away without affording them the opportunity to accompany us, ’Thea had been furiously indignant with us all, her father included; indeed her indignation had not evaporated when, seeing them approaching, I hastened to join them; but when she learned that the ship was in our possession, that there had been no fight worth mentioning, and that none of us was hurt, her frowns soon gave place to smiles of happiness.

That was a busy day for all hands. The arrangements for the safeguarding of our prisoners and the establishing of a camp ashore wherein the freed crews of Englishmen might recruit for a few days prior to our departure from the island kept us fully occupied until darkness set in; but the results were worth all the trouble; for not only had we rendered it impossible for the Germans to recapture the ship, but our English friends rapidly recovered their normal health and strength.

Finding, upon enquiry, that Wilkinson and Dartnell were still determined to throw in their lot with the islanders, we decided that, the cutter being now so very near completion, we would finish her off and put her into the water, for their convenience, and this was done on the fourth day following that of the capture of the Seeadler. The spars, rigging and sails of the boat also being ready, we not only launched her, but also ballasted her, rigged her, bent her sails and made a trial cruise round the island, with the result that she far surpassed our most sanguine expectations. We certainly had no opportunity of testing her in a gale, but her behaviour in ordinary weather was so satisfactory that, had it been necessary, I would unhesitatingly have undertaken a voyage across the Pacific in her.

The task of getting the cutter afloat and into sailing trim accomplished, our next job was to prepare the Seeadler for the voyage to Sydney, whither I had decided to take her. An examination of her bunkers satisfied us that she had more than enough fuel for the trip, the practice of the pirates having been to fill up from the ships she captured, before sinking them, whenever the weather conditions were sufficiently favourable; but she had run short of water in consequence of an unsuspected leak in her main tank, hence her visit to our island. With the appliances which she carried, however, the stoppage of the leak had proved a simple matter, her own engineers having indeed effected the repair before her arrival. There was nothing left for us to do, therefore, but to re-fill the tanks, and the ship would be ready to sail at any moment. With the strength we now had at our disposal this was a simple matter; and while we were doing it the Doctor hurriedly completed his self-imposed task of copying the paintings on the walls of the temple, not forgetting to transfer to his daughter’s trunk the robes of the goddess Taana which we had found in the coffer. He also insisted on taking the figure of the goddess herself, and the embroidered curtains of the temple; and we accordingly packed them carefully in canvas and transported them down to the ship, late one night, after the natives had all returned to the Basin.

Finally, the liberated Englishmen, by this time recovered from the effects of their confinement in the pestiferous atmosphere of the prison chamber, spent an entire day ranging the island in search of fruit, of which they gathered a quantity sufficient to last us during the voyage.

This brought the time round to exactly a week from the day on which we effected the capture of the Seeadler; and this day we, the original party of castaways, spent among our friends, the inhabitants of the Basin. I gave Wilkinson and Dartnell the compass which we had brought with us to the island in the jollyboat, also a chart from the Seeadler’s stock, upon which I laid down the position of the island, so that in the event of them ever desiring to leave the island, they might have the means by which to find their way to civilisation. We also of course left intact the machinery which we had erected, and which the natives had by this time learned to use, as also all the tools taken out of the hulk, these matters meaning to their new owners, a distinct progress toward civilisation.

When at last it came to the point, the parting with these simple, amiable savages proved to be rather an ordeal for both parties, for on our side our intimate contact with them after the conclusion of peace had revealed the sterling qualities of their character, while they had grown to regard us as beings only a little, if at all, inferior to gods. A strong bond of mutual respect and esteem had insensibly bound us together, and the severing of it was painful, even to us who were eagerly anticipating an early reunion with those we loved. As for the natives—and especially Kilau Minga - they did not attempt to conceal or restrain their grief, but followed us, every soul of them, to the entrance of the tunnel, wailing their regrets and imploring us to return to them some day; and to pacify them I gave them my solemn promise that, so far as I was concerned, I would do so, should circumstances permit. At the mouth of the tunnel we spoke our final farewells and parted, they to return to their homes, and we to take our final walk across the island to the big lagoon. We were a silent party for the first half of the way, for our thoughts were dwelling upon all that had happened since the day when we first set foot upon the soil of this unknown island; and it was not until we crossed the ridge and saw the Seeadler riding at anchor in the lagoon, with steam up and Blue Peter flying at the fore, that smiles of happy anticipation again shone in our eyes and upon our faces.

A boat was waiting for us when we reached the beach, and hardly had we left the shore when a small jet of steam issuing from the bow of the ship told us that the officer in charge had started the steam windlass and was “heaving short”. By the time that we got alongside the cable was “up and down” and the anchor ready for tripping, therefore, while the others climbed the poop to take a last look at the island, I straightway ascended to the bridge and took charge, ordering the boat to be hoisted to the davits and the gangway secured. These orders given, I rang “Stand by” to the engine room, and gave the order to break the anchor out of the ground, and ten minutes later we steamed out through the opening in the reef and were rolling and pitching on the long Pacific swell as the sun sank below the horizon in a blaze of purple and golden splendour.

Five days later we arrived and anchored in Port Jackson harbour about breakfast time, and as soon as the meal was over I communicated with the naval authorities, told them my story, and asked for instructions. The reply was quickly forthcoming, in the form of a prize crew from the flagship, who took possession of the Seeadler and transferred her German crew to safe quarters ashore.

My next business was to call at the offices of the Inter-Oceanic Steamship Company to make my report, and here I learned, to my consternation and profound regret, that I was the first bearer of authentic news of the Andromeda disaster, none of the occupants of the other boats having ever been heard of. A long cable message was at once drafted and despatched to San Francisco, giving terse particulars of the wreck and the names of the survivors; and on the following day a reply came to hand instructing me to return to ’Frisco by the first of the Company’s steamers available, after I had concluded my business connected with the capture of the ship. Meanwhile the remaining members of the party had taken up their quarters in one of the most comfortable of the many comfortable hotels which Sydney boasts, and there I joined them. They were naturally anxious to be with their friends at home without delay; but, upon learning the nature of the instructions which I had received, they determined to await the arrival of the boat which was to take me back, and all return together.

The agents of the Company informed me, a day or two later, that as a result of enquiries instituted by them on my behalf, they had learned the welcome news that a very handsome sum as prize money would eventually accrue to me from the capture of the Seeadler, but that the proceedings in connection with the award would probably be somewhat protracted, and they therefore very handsomely undertook to handle the business for me. And I may say here that they fulfilled their promise so effectively that when the matter was eventually settled I found myself, for so young a man, quite well off.

It only remains to add that we, the sole survivors of the Andromeda wreck, had a very happy journey across the Pacific in each other’s company, during which Anthea and I spent many an hour promenading the starlit deck. And in the course of those promenades I obtained so clear an insight into the dear girl’s true character that her prophecy—that some day I should learn to understand her—became abundantly fulfilled, and I am now looking forward to the day when she will be my wife.

As for the Directors of the Inter-Oceanic, they were most complimentary. They had nothing but approval for my conduct all through the adventure, and they showed their approval in a very practical manner by cancelling the short residue of my indentures and appointing me fifth officer in one of their finest ships, to which they at the same time appointed Lucy Stroud as chief stewardess.

As for Oldroyd and Mason, we correspond regularly: and the latest news of them is that as soon as the war is over they intend to make another trip to Australia, and that it will be made in my ship.

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