CHAPTER XIV THE ATTACK

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Having failed in his attempt to effect a landing without discovery, Calamity regarded the crossfire between the fort and the Hawk as the next best thing, as it would to some extent distract the attention of the Germans from his own operations. Nevertheless, the defenders did not concentrate their fire wholly on the steamer, and some of their guns were firing, more or less promiscuously, into the harbour. Fortunately, they did not appear to have either searchlights or illuminating shells, for it was only the darkness and consequent inaccurate aim of the gunners that prevented the little force from being annihilated before a single boat touched the shore. Even as it was, the water around them was constantly sending up cascades where shells or fragments of bursting shrapnel struck it.

"Pull like hell!" roared Calamity above the din.

The men needed no urging and the boats leapt through the water with oars that bent under the strain. Suddenly, above the thunder of the guns, a terrible cry was heard, and where there had been a boatload of men a moment before, there was now only some splintered wreckage with a few wounded men clinging to it. Yet none dared go to their assistance for that would have meant inevitable destruction now that one, at least, of the enemy's guns had found the range. So, deaf to the shrieks of their comrades, the men in the remaining boats pulled like demons, expecting every moment to be blown out of the water by a well-placed shot. But at last the first boat, which was under the charge of the Captain himself, grounded. The men leapt out, waist-deep in the water, and, grabbing their rifles and cartridge belts, waded ashore. The other boats quickly followed, and Calamity, collecting his force, led it up the beach at the double towards some warehouses or "go-downs" that served to screen the enemy's fire.

Here he let them have a few minutes "stand-easy," while he consulted with his lieutenants, Smith and the bos'n. He had already formed a fairly accurate idea of the nature and strength of the defences to be overcome, and had arranged his plans accordingly. The fort, so far as he had been able to ascertain with the aid of glasses when steaming past it, appeared to be built principally of mud and shale with an outer defence consisting of a tall bamboo stockade. The approach from the harbour side consisted of a very steep incline which seemed totally devoid of any sort of cover and without anything in the nature of a road or track. But the fact that it was so steep placed the defenders at one disadvantage, because it made it practically impossible for them to train their big guns on the attacking force, although a well-directed musketry fire could not fail to cause fearful havoc in the latter's ranks. Still, Calamity's chief asset was the darkness, which, for one thing, prevented the Germans from seeing what a ridiculously small force he had with him.

Calamity gave the order to advance, the party left the shelter of the "go-downs," and moved towards the hill in open order. It was not till they started to climb that the enemy showed himself to be aware of their presence on the island. Then a brisk rifle-fire was opened on them from the fort, but the aim was too high, and the bullets flew harmlessly above the sailors' heads. Even by the time they were halfway up, only one man had been hit, and his wound was so slight that he continued to advance with the others. But now with each forward step the danger increased, and, as the attackers drew nearer and nearer to the stockade the bullets came perilously near, one or two men dropping out of the advance. But the long, thin line of creeping figures never wavered, though not one of them had as yet fired a shot. For the last fifty yards or so they simply crawled forward on their bellies, while a hail of bullets whistled above their heads.

Then, high above the din, there arose the long, shrill call of the bos'n's pipe. This was the signal to storm the fort, and the men, leaping to their feet, rushed across the few remaining yards that separated them from the stockade. While some, slinging their rifles across their backs, made prodigious efforts to scale the bamboo defences, others, provided with dynamite cartridges, tried to blow gaps in it to enable their comrades to enter. For a few minutes there was a terrific struggle, those of the attacking party who had succeeded in getting over or through the stockade, engaging in fierce hand-to-hand encounters with the defenders, using whatever weapon came handiest, rifle-butt, sheath-knife, or simply bare fists. But eventually the seamen, finding themselves hopelessly outnumbered, began to waver and fall back, fighting desperately all the time. At last they were forced to abandon the hardly-won ground altogether and then, as if acting on a common impulse, they turned and fled.

The Captain made a vain attempt to rally them, but they were unnerved, and, heedless of his shouts, fled in panic down the hill, till they reached the shelter of the "go-downs" at the bottom of the slope.

"To the boats!" cried someone. "We've 'ad enough of this 'ell. To the boats!"

But just as the men were about to make a move towards the water's edge, there came the sound of a terrific explosion and a great flame shot upwards from the fort on the hill, lighting up the landscape with a weird, lurid glare that must have been observable for miles around. Calamity's first thought was that a shell from the Hawk had exploded the magazine in the fort, but, whatever the cause, he saw here an opportunity to convert a rout into a victory.

"Fall in!" he shouted.

At sight of the disaster which had overtaken the enemy, the men regained their courage, and, forming into line once more, followed their Captain up the slope. On this occasion no deadly fire swept down upon them, and, in the light of the flames, they could see small bodies of terrified soldiers scrambling over the stockade or forcing their way through the gaps, in panic-stricken endeavours to escape from the blazing enclosure.

"Steady, lads!" cried Calamity. "Now give it them."

The straggling line of seamen halted, and next moment a hail of lead swept through the chaotic mass of Germans with fearful effect. Another volley followed, and some of the fugitives, in their terror, dashed back towards the blazing fort while others, more cool-headed, flung themselves flat upon the ground. Even so, a heap of dead and wounded lay around the stockade, and the few who had escaped threw up their arms in token of surrender.

Since it was impossible to enter the fort here owing to the flames, Calamity led his men round to the other side which, so far, had escaped the fire, and gave the word to attack. With a wild yell of triumph, the party rushed up to the palisades and those who could not scale them, smashed a way through with their rifle butts. So far there had been no resistance, but, as Calamity reformed his men inside the enclosure, some twenty or thirty soldiers advanced upon them, led by an officer who appeared to be the commandant of the fort. The space was too confined for an exchange of rifle-fire and so the two parties immediately engaged in a close encounter with whatever weapons came handiest. The defenders fought with the desperate courage of men determined to sell their lives as dearly as possible, the seamen with the savage ferocity of men still smarting under defeat and eager to avenge it. Yet so fierce was the resistance that it seemed as though the Hawk's party might even now be forced to retreat, when, from the dense smoke in the Germans' rear, there came the sound of shots. The defenders, believing themselves attacked by another force from behind, threw down their arms, and their officer called out that he surrendered unconditionally.

There was a brief lull while Smith and the bos'n took charge of the prisoners. Then suddenly above the crackling of the flames, there arose, from amidst the smoke, a hoarse, stentorian voice bawling:

The voice ceased abruptly and there staggered into the open the figure of Phineas McPhulach, a revolver in one hand and a gin-bottle—which, at the moment, he was holding up to his mouth—in the other.

"For the days of auld Lang Syne!"

bellowed the engineer as he removed the bottle from his lips.

Then, heedless of the sensation he was causing among friend and foe alike, he commenced to dance a Highland fling, at the same time waving the revolver above his head and firing it to the peril of all beholders. Suddenly he threw the weapon from him, tried to execute a complicated step, failed, and collapsed on a heap of smoking timber.

"How the devil did you get here?" demanded Calamity.

A beatific but uncomprehending smile illumined the engineer's face and he made a vain effort to raise the gin-bottle to his lips.

"It's a—hic—michty square bus—hic—iness," he murmured.

"Get up," commanded the Captain.

"Eh, mon, but will ye no hae a wee sup o' this—hic—cordial. It's a verra——"

His voice died away into an incoherent murmur, his eyes closed, and he emitted a lusty snore. Calamity seized his arm and dragged him to his feet; but McPhulach, still snoring, slid gently back into his former recumbent position. Suddenly, however, he sat up with a jerk and his expression changed from befuddled contentment to genuine horror.

"Mon!" he cried, pointing a trembling finger in front of him, "D'ye ken yon snake? An' losh presairve us, there's anither beastie, a pink ane, wi' thairty legs!"

He raised the bottle above his head and threw it with all his might at the imaginary reptile, narrowly missing Calamity.

"Smith!" called the latter, "take this drunken sot back to the ship and pour a bucket of cold water over him."

With the assistance of a couple of men, the inebriated engineer was raised to his feet. After a vain attempt to embrace Calamity, whom he addressed as "me ain dear mither," and to kiss one of the German prisoners, he burst into tears and was carried away by four seamen, who ducked him in the water before depositing him in the bottom of one of the boats. Here, although soaked to the skin, he fell into a peaceful slumber, from which he did not awake till the morning, when he found himself back in his bunk.

In the meantime, the prisoners were marched down the hill and placed in the "go-down," except the commandant, whom Calamity wished to question concerning the place where the booty taken by the gunboat was stored—for it was pretty certain the Germans had not left it on board her. He was, however, unable at first to elicit any satisfactory reply, the prisoner declaring that he knew nothing about it.

"Very well," said Calamity, "since you refuse to tell me, I must take measures to induce you to change your mind."

"What is that?" asked the prisoner, starting. Like most German officers, he understood English perfectly.

"I mean," answered the Captain suavely, "that if your memory is at fault concerning the disposal of the gunboat's plunder, I shall try and find some means of refreshing it."

"You would not dare to torture me, sir!" exclaimed the commandant, turning pale.

"There are a few things I wouldn't dare, perhaps, but that's not one of them."

At last the commandant, fearing that his captor was in earnest, reluctantly gave the required information, and Calamity, with the bos'n and half a dozen picked men, made his way to the place indicated. There they found, on the side of the hill, a strong iron door, in front of which was a narrow foot-track about twenty yards long, evidently the result of sentinels pacing up and down. This door, of course, was securely fastened, but a charge of dynamite sufficed to blow it in, and Calamity, followed by the others, who carried storm lanterns, entered. There was nothing romantic or suggestive of Aladdin's cave about the place; in fact, it looked much like an ordinary store-house, with cases and packages stacked around it.

"Open that," said Calamity, indicating one of several heavily sealed cases, edged with metal.

After some little difficulty, for the case was very stoutly made, the top was knocked off, revealing bars of bullion.

"Very good," murmured the Captain, "very good."

From the marks on the cases, he judged that the gold had been sent out from England to a Colonial bank. Obviously the ship carrying it had been stopped and robbed by the German pirate-captain, who, taking one thing with another, appeared to have been both industrious and successful in the profession of his adoption. A methodical search showed that there were quite a number of these cases, not all of them bearing the same marks, for some were French, and must have been taken from a different ship. There were other things besides bullion: bales of cloth, cases of wines and spirits, tobacco and cigars, and so forth. A money-chest, well stocked with English, American, and German notes and gold, was probably the property of the German Government for use in paying wages, purchasing coal, ammunition, and such-like necessaries, while the Kaiser's cruisers were still at large in the Pacific.

Dawn was breaking and the fires which had consumed the fort were dying down as if satiated, when the treasure, strongly guarded, was taken on board the Hawk, where, under Calamity's personal supervision, it was carefully stowed away.


                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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