On the following morning Calamity went ashore, Mr. Dykes having preceded him for the purpose of finding out what stores, coal, and so forth had escaped the fire. Of coal there proved to be an abundance stored in a "go-down" near the little jetty that ran out into the harbour, and so arrangements were made to replenish the Hawk's bunkers, which were running low.

"By the way," said the Captain after Mr. Dykes had made his report, "have you come across any natives? Surely there ought to be some on an island like this."

"Well, sir, I guess if there ever were any they've been cleared out by the squareheads," answered the mate. "I ain't seen a sign of one."

"Well, come with me and bring half a dozen men with you," said Calamity, and led the way up the hill to the smoking remains of the fort. Upon the very summit a spar was set up on end with the Union Jack nailed to it, and Calamity formally annexed the island in the name of His Britannic Majesty, King George the Fifth. This done, the Captain, accompanied by Mr. Dykes, paid a visit to the beached gunboat and found that, although her propeller had been damaged, the work of repair was all but completed. Moreover, in a shed near by they found a forge and a well-fitted engineer's workshop, with all the tools and machinery for repairing damaged engines.

"This is better than I could have hoped," said Calamity. "They seem to have established a regular small dockyard here."

"German thoroughness, sir," answered the mate. "You see, if any of their small boats in the Pacific got knocked about they could put in here for repairs. I'll bet the Emden would have quitted business long ago if it hadn't been for this little cosy corner."

"Well, we'll take over the gunboat since we can't cram all the prisoners on board the Hawk, otherwise I should blow her up."

"Don't know how you're going to officer her, sir."

"We must manage somehow," answered Calamity.

Mr. Dykes, however, mildly protested. He pointed out that there were only himself and Smith available to take command of her, and, since only one of them could be spared from the Hawk, the whole work of navigating the gunboat would fall on one man.

"It would mean that he'd have to be on the bridge practically night and day, sir," he concluded.

"You'll have to make the best arrangements you can, that's all."

"Me, sir!" ejaculated the mate.

"Yes, I shall place you in command of the gunboat with some of the Hawk's men. You must divide the watches with the bos'n's-mate and any other man you like to select. You may pick your crew."

Mr. Dykes groaned, but decided that it was not safe to offer any further objections. To be placed in command of a steamer without even one reliable officer under him, and with, perhaps, twenty or more prisoners on board, was a great deal more than he had bargained for.

"What about an engineer, sir?" he asked.

"You can have Sims."

The mate choked back the remark he was about to make concerning the qualities of Mr. Sims. But inwardly he vowed that, if the second-engineer had no conception of what hell might be like, he would be in possession of a good working theory before he left the gunboat.

"Now that's settled," went on the Captain, "you had better go aboard her and make preparations for coaling and victualling."

"Very good, sir," answered Mr. Dykes in a spiritless voice, and departed in deep dudgeon. Had the Captain shown any inclination to listen to his advice, he would have suggested leaving the prisoners on the island under a strong guard, till the British authorities were informed and could send a vessel to take them away. However, to argue with Calamity would be about as cheerful a job as trying experiments with a live shell, and so the mate wisely accepted his burden with what fortitude he could muster.

Having acquainted himself with what resources the one-time German colony possessed, Calamity returned to the Hawk. He was anxious to consult McPhulach concerning the repairs to the engines and other parts of the ship which had suffered from the fort's guns on the preceding night. There was to be explained, also, the mystery of the engineer's presence in the fort, when, according to orders, he should have been in the engine-room of the Hawk.

"Where is Mr. McPhulach?" asked the Captain as soon as he stepped on board.

"In his cabin, sir," answered one of the men.

"Then go and fetch him—no, stay though, I'll go to him myself," and Calamity made his way to the engineer's abode.

"Wha's there?" inquired a feeble voice in answer to the Captain's knock.

Calamity, instead of answering, opened the door and stepped in. The cabin was darkened by having the curtains drawn across the ports, but he could make out the figure of McPhulach propped up in his bunk with the aid of a battered leather bag and a pillow. The engineer presented a sorry spectacle; his head was enveloped in a wet towel, and on a locker by his side stood a cup of tea and a half-eaten slice of dry toast.

"How are you?" inquired the Captain, drawing the curtains apart to admit the daylight.

"I'm no verra weel, an' I thank ye," replied McPhulach, still in a feeble voice. "Ma heid is like a footba' filled wi' lead."

"Naturally," remarked the Captain coldly.

"Aye, I ken it weel," groaned the sufferer.

"What I want to know is, how the devil you got into the fort and what you did when you got there," went on Calamity.

"It's a michty quare business, skeeper, an' I dinna a'togither ken it mesel'."

"You were ordered to remain on board, instead of which, I suppose, you smuggled yourself into one of the boats when they put off."

"Weel, I didna swim," answered McPhulach testily, and held his aching head in both hands.

"You disobeyed orders."

There was an ominous ring in the Captain's voice which made the victim of alcoholic excess pull himself together sharply.

"It was a' due to a nichtmare I had, d'ye ken?" he said, thinking as hard as his befuddled brain would permit.

"A nightmare! What in hell are you talking about?"

"Weel, I must ha' walked in ma sleep. I thocht ma second—or mebbe 'twas ma thaird—wife was after me...."

McPhulach rambled on till Calamity, losing patience, pulled him up and demanded to know the truth. It came out gradually, and the Captain learnt that, just as the boats were putting off from the Hawk, McPhulach had been seized with an irresistible desire to feel dry land under him again. So, unobserved in the darkness, he had slipped into the last boat and been taken ashore. There he mingled with the men and advanced with them in the first attack. During the fight which followed, he succeeded in scaling the stockade and had just landed safely on the other side when a soldier sprang forward and clubbed him with the butt-end of a rifle. For a time he lay there unconscious, but, on coming to, quickly realised that he was inside the stockade and might be killed at any moment. As this latter contingency did not figure on his programme, he started to crawl away and at last came to an orderly-room which was untenanted. Taking careful observations, he noticed on the table several bottles of spirits, and drew the conclusion that the place was a sort of smoking-room used by the officers of the fort; at any rate, he decided to sample the contents of the bottles.

By the time he had finished what must have been nearly two pints of mixed spirits, he felt equal to taking the fort single-handed; in fact, as he now confessed to Calamity, he would have charged a whole battalion.

"I didna quite ken what to do," he said, gazing dreamily out of the porthole, "so I sat doon on the doorstep an' waited for ma temper to rise."

Apparently it rose pretty quickly, for soon afterwards he wandered out into the dark enclosure—having first placed the remains of a bottle of gin in his pocket—to see what he could do. As a start, he drew his revolver and one of the first shots, fired at random, hit a charge of powder as it was being removed from the magazine.

"An' after that," concluded the engineer wearily, "I kenned no mair."

"I see," murmured Calamity, for now the mysterious explosion which had resulted in the capture of the fort was explained. "I suppose," he added, with unwonted geniality, "you don't remember trying to kill pink snakes with an empty gin-bottle?"

McPhulach slowly shook his head.

"I ca' to mind seein' a green spider an' a blue centipede creepin' across yon bulkhead a whiles since," he replied. "But ye meet wi' unco' quare animals in these latitudes."

Calamity rose to his feet.

"I've a good mind to log you a week's pay for disobeying orders," he said.

The threat did not seem to impress the engineer, who suddenly leant over the side of his bunk and stared fixedly at the floor.

"I'll hae to get a rat-trap," he murmured.