The Flying Boat: A Story of Adventure and Misadventure

by Herbert Strang

  CHAPTER XIX

  HIDE AND SEEK

  At this point Errington assumed the direction of affairs--much to thecontentment of Burroughs, who had now learnt by the pain in his shoulderthat he had not run the gauntlet unscathed. But Errington was by nomeans happy. It was one thing to enter the swamp by the broad channelfrom the river, and quite another to come down into it from the air. Hehad at once thought of seeking out the deep reed-screened recess wherehe had discovered the flying boat. The huts, of course, might beoccupied; in that case some other hiding-place must be found; but thefact that they had been empty on the occasion of his first visit seemedto show that they were inhabited only occasionally, and by good fortunethey might be deserted now. It was scarcely probable that the crew ofthe gunboat were the same men who had been engaged in Reinhardt's littleact of piracy, so that only by the most extraordinary coincidence wouldthey spontaneously make for the same hiding-place. If he could onlydiscover it, Errington hoped that the boat might remain concealed whilethe necessary repairs were made.

  But it was nearly dark. In such a labyrinth of waterways one might gohither and thither perhaps for hours without coming into the channelleading to the clear pool. Still the attempt must be made; and there wasa chance that even if the former hiding-place were not discovered, someother secluded spot might be found that would serve equally well. Thedanger was that two or three boats would be employed in searching forthem, one or another of which might be lucky.

  There was no time to be lost. The first thing was to fold back theplanes, which were an encumbrance to the vessel at all times on thewater, and especially among the reed-beds. The next thing was to getout the punting poles with which the boat was provided, and propel it upthe channel; the farther they got from the river the better.

  The Chinese servants plied the poles, while Errington steered, andBurroughs sat near Chung Pi, condoling with him on his misfortune inbeing wounded at the eleventh hour.

  "It is a mark of honour for the captain to be wounded when the privateescapes," said Chung Pi; but as it was difficult for either Lo San orChin Tai to interpret while attending to their task, the two wounded menrelapsed into silence, regarding each other with mutual sympathy.

  An altercation sprang up between the two punters. Each declared thatthe other was a fool, and would wreck the boat. Lo San, presuming onhis acquaintance with the swamp, let fall slighting remarks on ChinTai's ignorance, which exasperated his fellow-servant. But mindful ofErrington's threats on a former occasion, they subdued their voices; andsince they spoke in Chinese, the Englishmen never knew what insults theyhurled at each other.

  Errington thought his best course was to steer straight up the channelinto which the boat had fallen, rather than diverge to right or leftinto the cross channels to which he came at frequent intervals. The skywas growing darker and darker; it would soon be impossible to proceed,and the prospect of spending the night in comparatively open water, withthe chance of being stumbled upon by the pursuers, or spied in themorning, was exceedingly damping to the spirits. A very few minutesafter the vessel had been got under way, the throb of the gunboat'sengine was distinctly heard; and Errington, ordering the men to keepsilent, shortly afterwards caught the sound of voices and then the thudof oars from the direction of the river. There was little doubt thattwo, if not three, boats had been lowered from the gunboat, and werealready coming at a good pace into the swamp. This was, however, sobroad that the fugitives were fairly safe for the present. The pursuersmight, indeed, by some unlucky chance, know of the hiding-place whichErrington was seeking; but they could not have any reason to guess thatErrington knew of it, unless they had among them some of the men fromwhom he had escaped before; and in any case the growing darkness wouldrender it as difficult for them as for Errington to make their waythere.

  For some time the vessel was punted slowly along; the sounds of pursuitdrew nearer; and Errington almost despaired of succeeding in his questwhen Lo San gave a low exclamation, and signed eagerly to his master tosteer to the right. In another minute the boat emerged into the pool.To cross it was the work of only a few seconds, and Errington recognizedwith great relief the opening of the narrow, tortuous passage throughwhich the boat had been towed. Leaving the steering wheel, he got overthe side into the water, and went to the nose of the boat, so that hemight the more easily prevent it from sticking in the reed-beds. Thus,wading and punting, they forced the vessel through the passage untilthey came within a few yards of the patch of dry land.

  Here they stopped for a few minutes, while Errington stole forward andreconnoitred. There were the huts, just distinguishable in thedarkness. All was quiet. The same few broken sampans were drawn up onthe shore. In the midst of the open space was the cooking-stove atwhich the old Chinawoman had been broiling fish. Errington, with many acautious look around, stepped on to the shore and walked rapidly butstealthily up to the huts. He paused at each, listening. No voices, nosnores, came from within them. The place was deserted.

  Returning to the boat, he brought it from out its shelter among thereeds, and soon had it drawn up for a few feet on the muddy shore.Every one of the party breathed more freely. They sat on the sampans torest. For some little time no one spoke; they all listened intently:would the pursuers come to the same spot? They could hear voices, faintin the distance; but the sounds seemed to be receding. It appearedcertain that, whether they knew of it or not, the pursuers were not atpresent rowing in the direction of the hiding-place. Presently absolutesilence reigned; and Errington reckoned that they were lucky in havingapproached so late in the evening, when the wild fowl had settledthemselves; otherwise they might have been betrayed by the birds'flight.

  "We can't see what's wrong with the machine in the darkness," saidBurroughs at length, in a whisper; "and we daren't strike a light."

  "No; the only thing we can do is to wait for morning," repliedErrington. "We shall pass a wretched night, old man."

  "It might be worse. I only wish I hadn't got this whack in theshoulder; it stings horribly."

  "I can bathe it and tie it up; hope it's not serious; but if we can getthe machine mended we shan't be long running down to Sui-Fu in themorning, and then we'll soon put you to rights."

  Errington took a dipper down to the water, filled it, and returned tobathe Burroughs' wound. Lo San met him.

  "Captin he glumble velly much," he said. "He say wantchee chow-chow;long time he hab catchee nuffin to eat."

  Burroughs had brought a little food from Sui-Fu--enough to providehimself and the two Chinamen with meals for a day. A portion of theseprovisions still remained; but knowing Chung Pi's appetite, he doubtedwhether the captain would be satisfied if the food were divided.

  "Tell him he can have a crust of bread, a sausage end, and a mug ofbeer," he said. "We haven't got any melon seeds or sam-shu."

  Chung Pi gobbled the food with great celerity, but drank the beer inslow sips, having been assured that he could have no more. He stillgrumbled very much, and it struck Burroughs suddenly that cold andhunger might so work on the captain that he might be tempted to betraythem. Henceforth he would be a marked man so far as the rebels wereconcerned; and the chance to reinstate himself in the favour of hischief, Su Fing, might prevail over the prospect of advancement at whichhe had mysteriously hinted.

  "You two men keep your eye on Chung Pi," said Burroughs to the servants."He's not to stir from the sampan he's on. Show him a knife if heobjects, but don't use it."

  Burroughs need not have been alarmed. Chung Pi slept through the greaterpart of the night; and in the intervals of wakefulness he comfortedhimself for the cold and hunger he felt by blissful imaginings of plentyof sam-shu and melon seeds in a not distant future.

  It was a wearisome, comfortless night for the two Englishmen. The coldwas intense, and the want of food rendered them the less able to bearit. Burroughs' shoulder, too, gave him much pain, and became verystiff. During that long
darkness the friends talked of many things--ofold times, of recent experiences, of the future. Errington related thefull story of his recovery of the flying boat; Burroughs in return toldat greater length than he had done in the yamen the pilgrimage which LoSan had undertaken for his master. Errington said nothing to Lo San atthe time; but he resolved to requite his servant's devotionsubstantially if they got safe home.

  They discussed one matter about which Errington was troubled. Hisdismissal from the service of Ehrlich Soehne was in one sense a relief;he wished to have nothing more to do with Reinhardt, and rememberingthat the German held a cheque for three months' salary, he was glad tothink that here was a means of liquidating his debt. But he felt muchdepressed about the future. His late firm was of good standing, and tobe dismissed by them for what Reinhardt called "irregularities" made himfear that other employers would hesitate to take him into their service.

  "That's absolute rot," said Burroughs, when Errington spoke of hisfears. "Nobody will think any the worse of you in the end. Making anass of yourself----"

  "Rub it in!" interrupted Errington gloomily.

  "Well, we all do it some time or other; and making an ass of yourselfisn't a crime, or the prisons would be pretty full. There are plenty offirms as good as Ehrlich; if I didn't know how touchy you are I'dsuggest your joining us; the pater----"

  "Dry up! D'you think I'll ask your governor for a crib when I'm a rankfailure, a regular rotter? A pretty fine thing that 'ud be, in returnfor all his kindness!"

  "There you are! I knew that's how you'd take it. A failure! Why,you're no end better at business than I am. Everybody knows it. Lookhere, just shut down on those idiotic notions of yours. Chuck 'em away.A fellow that never made a mistake never made anything, somebody said.It's jolly well true. Of course, if a fellow goes on making mistakes,can't learn, hasn't got the sense or the will-power to pull up, he is arotter, and there's no good disguising it. But many a juggins hasturned out a jolly fine chap; in a year or two you'll laugh at yourself,and----"

  "And thank my stars I had such a pal as the Mole, even if he doeslecture a bit. Why didn't you say all that and other things before?"

  "Well, you know--I--well, I suppose I was a juggins too, but you'd haveshied a brick at my head if I had, wouldn't you?"

  What more they said need not be told. That talk in the dead of night,under the silent stars, knit them closer together in a friendship whichneither time nor circumstance will ever break asunder.

  As soon as there was a glimmer of light they inspected the vessel. Thedamage was greater than they supposed. The petrol pipe union had beensnapped; one of the stays of the starboard plane was broken in two; anda bullet had pierced a hole near the bottom of one of the petrol cans,the contents of which had almost entirely trickled away. They had onlyanother half can of the spirit left. This was a very disturbingdiscovery, but it suggested at the same time what a lucky escape theyhad had. They might well have expected that the heat caused by theimpact of the bullet would set the petrol on fire.

  "Rather a long job before us," said Errington; "that is, if we try tomend the stay."

  "The pipe won't take long," said Burroughs. "There's a bit of rubbertubing in the locker. We can stick the broken ends of the pipe intothat. The stay is a different matter."

  "Couldn't we leave that alone, and trust to our speed on the water?"Errington suggested.

  "Rather risky. Unless the blackguards have got sick of waiting allnight and sheered off, they'll spot us as soon as we take the river, andanother shot might do for us altogether. No; we must mend the staysomehow, and then fly inland until we're out of harm's way--until thepetrol gives out."

  "But the stay must be welded; and we can't do that without hammering.If the gunboat's crew are anywhere about they are sure to hear the row,and find us out in no time."

  "We'll have to chance that," said Burroughs. "A worse thing is the wantof proper tools. There's a hammer in the locker, but we haven't got aforge. We can make a fire in that old stove there; but we've nobellows, and we can never get heat enough without."

  "Never say die. Where there's a stove there ought to be bellows. I'mgoing to look round. But work before breakfast, and no supper the nightbefore, doesn't make you feel amiable, does it?"

  "While you are looking for the bellows I'll stroll along the shore andfind out what sort of a place we're on. It's just as well to knowsomething about our whereabouts."

  Burroughs walked past the sampan where Chung Pi had passed the night. Athick white mist lay over the swamp, through which nothing was visiblebeyond two or three yards. Chung Pi was sitting in the sampan with hisarms tightly folded. He seemed to have shrunk; Lo San and Chin Tai alsowere blue with hunger and cold. Burroughs felt sorry for them all.

  "I regret having been compelled to inflict these inconveniences on you,noble captain," he said; "it is a pity our charms have not availed."

  "Ah! If you had not gone back for the second talisman we should havebeen safe," said Chung Pi mournfully.

  Burroughs had heard nothing about the second talisman, but he did notask for an explanation, merely promising that Chung Pi should enjoy asubstantial feast as soon as they reached Sui-Fu.

  Proceeding along the shore, picking his way carefully because of themist, he had walked for about a quarter of a mile when he came suddenlyupon a sampan, and halted, fearing that it might belong to the enemy.But as he stood there surrounded by the clinging fog, he heardErrington's voice apparently only a few yards away. The explanationflashed upon him at once. They were on a small island, encompassed by acontinuous screen of reeds. This was in a measure reassuring, for itdiminished the risk of being discovered.

  He moved forward. Errington saw a figure looming through the mist, andinstantly challenged.

  "It's all right, Pidge. I've made a tour of the place; it's an island.Any luck?"

  "Yes, I've found a cranky pair of bellows, very Chinese, in one of thehuts. We can start our forge at once.... Hullo!"

  The exclamation was provoked by the sound of a shot in the distance.

  "What's that mean, I wonder?" said Burroughs.

  "Don't know. Shooting a duck for breakfast, perhaps. It's pretty clearthat the beggars haven't given us up. When we start hammering they'llhear us and are sure to find us out."

  "Better carry the stove into one of the huts and shut yourself up there.The sound will be deadened then. I wish now I'd brought my engineer;he'd have made a better job of it than you and Lo San; I can't help, I'msorry to say; my wretched arm is as stiff as a poker."

  "I've taken off the broken stay; half-an-hour's work ought to finish thejob as soon as we get the fire going. This mist is a godsend; theycan't see our smoke."

  "Well, you take the two boys to lend a hand in the hut, while I keep aneye on Chung Pi and listen for the enemy."

  The servants carried the stove and the broken stay into the largest ofthe huts. One of the others furnished plenty of wood for the fire, andin a few minutes they had a good blaze, and began the work of weldingthe stay. Burroughs was disconcerted to find that although the hut wasshut up as closely as the ramshackle timbers allowed, the sound ofhammering was distinctly audible outside. He sat on the sampan besidethe dejected figure of Chung Pi, peering through the mist, and listeningintently.

  By and by he fancied he heard voices from the direction of the channel,and a few minutes afterwards the muffled splash of paddles struck hisear. He waited until he was no longer in doubt that the sounds wereapproaching; then, taking Chung Pi by the sleeve, he hurried him up tothe hut where the work was going on.

  "They're coming this way, Pidge," he said. "Better knock off until weknow what's happening."

  "I'll take Lo San down to the shore," said Errington. "Let us hopethey'll miss the place."

  At the shore Errington and the Chinaman stood listening in silence. Thesound of paddles was now distinctly audible, growing louder everymoment. Presently there were mingled with it the high-toned voice
s ofChinamen.

  "Can you hear what they say?" Errington whispered.

  Lo San bent forward.

  "He say 'Come this side,'" he whispered. "He savvy this place all same."

  "How many boats?"

  "My tinkee two piecee sampan. Hai! He say: 'This side bobbely; mussbelongey place where tings belongey pilates.'"

  Such fragments as these were alarming. The boats could not be more thanthirty yards away, and it seemed as though one of the men knew of thepirates' lair, and having suspected that the hammering had proceededthence, was trying to guide the party towards it. But gradually thesounds receded. Lo San heard one man suggest that they should go backto the ship. Apparently they had failed to find their way in the mist.A more distant voice seemed to acquiesce in the suggestion, and thesounds died away until there was again complete silence.

  Then Errington returned to the hut and resumed work on the stay, whileBurroughs, this time leaving Chung Pi behind, went down to the shore tokeep watch. The mist was gradually lifting; the screen of reeds facingthe island first became visible, then a short stretch of the waterwaythat cut it in two. Little by little the whole prospect became clear;from behind came the dull hammering.

  It was perhaps half-an-hour after Errington had recommenced work whenBurroughs again caught the distant splash of oars. He instantly ran upto the hut and gave the word to cease work; then returned with Erringtonand Lo San to the shore. Nearer and nearer drew the sounds. There wasno doubt that the pursuers were making in the direction of the island.

  The watchers dropped down behind one of the stranded sampans and peeredanxiously over the edge. If the approaching boat or boats came withinsight of the island, to escape discovery was impossible. The Englishmenthought dismally of their chances if it came to a fight. They had acouple of revolvers; the Chinamen had their knives; but the pursuers,besides being more numerous, were without doubt completely armed. Therecould be only one end to the struggle, and there was no means ofavoiding it. The stay was not completely repaired; it had to be refittedto the plane; and if the pursuers' boat held on its present course, asindicated by the growing sound, it must come within sight of the islandlong before the hydroplane could be got ready.

  The voices of the approaching men now sounded so near that the watchersexpected every moment their boat to glide into view on the waterway.They heard even the swishing of the rushes as the craft pushed its wayamong them. Suddenly there was a change. The sounds appeared to take aslightly different direction.

  "He say, 'Muss belongey this side,'" whispered Lo San.

  A few moments passed, during which the sounds grew somewhat fainter.Then they ceased abruptly: it was as if the men had suddenly found thatwhich they sought. The silence continued, and Errington became alarmed.What were the pursuers about? He felt that he must know. Whispering hisintention to Burroughs, he stepped into the water, waded noiselesslyacross to the nearest bed of reeds, skirted the outer edge, anddisappeared from view.

  He had not gone more than a dozen yards when he guessed what hadhappened. The man who had professed to know the island had lost hisway, as was very natural in a passage that had many bewildering turns,with openings here and there among the reeds, which it must be difficultto distinguish one from another. The course which the boat had takenwas plainly indicated by the bent and broken reeds among which it hadbeen forced. Wading very cautiously in the same direction, and bendinglow, so that he was almost completely concealed, Errington in a fewseconds saw with great surprise the nose of an empty boat projectingabove the reeds, and apparently resting on dry land. The stern of theboat was hidden.

  Instantly the explanation flashed upon him. The pursuers had lightedupon another patch of firm land, of which there were many dotted aboutthe swamp, and imagining it to be the island of which they were insearch, had gone ashore to explore the place.

  Errington wondered how large the patch of dry land might be. If it wereno longer than the island on which the hydroplane was beached, the menwould soon discover their mistake, return to the boat, and continuetheir search. It was almost incredible that they should then fail tofind the other island, within thirty yards of them. Was it possible inany way to check them?

  A sudden idea occurred to him. Retracing his steps through the icy coldwater, he came to the shore where Burroughs was anxiously awaiting hisreturn, and waded to the hydroplane. From this he took the boat-hook, along light pole of bamboo. Then putting his fingers to his lips, he setoff again through the water, in nervous dread lest, short as his absencehad been, the pursuers had had time to come back to their boat.

  To his great relief, when he reached the spot, nobody was in sight. Theboat remained as he had left it. Standing concealed among the reeds, hethrust the boat-hook forward, and after a few seconds' groping caughtthe hidden stern of the boat and drew it gently towards him--slowly andcarefully, so as to make the least possible noise. The boat had notbeen tied up. It slid down the shelving bank inch by inch until itfloated. Errington drew it on, through the reeds, which rustledunavoidably as it passed through them; then, turning his back, he towedit as rapidly as he could up the waterway towards his own island.

  "Marooned, old chap," he said cheerfully to Burroughs, who started up inamazement. "But the water's deadly cold!"