Half a dozen small deer, disturbed in the act of drinking, came bounding towards them, until, finding themselves confronted by human beings, they stopped abruptly, then tore madly from the newest danger.

"Be careful!" urged Denbigh. "Those creatures have been driven towards us by some animal. Stand by."

Out of the deep shade ambled a huge unwieldy figure. It looked like a giant armed with a club. It was too big for a native: it was an enormous ape.

In a trice Denbigh and his companion dodged behind a tree; but quick though they were, the movement had not escaped the notice of the animal. Uttering a shrill cry, the ape bounded towards their place of concealment.

Denbigh's first impulse was to fly, but calmer counsels prevailed.

Dropping on one knee, he held his improvised spear pointed towards the enemy, the b.u.t.t planted firmly into the ground.

As well might a dog try conclusions with a motor-car. The ape's muscular hand gripped the pole and wrenched it from the sub's grasp, while Denbigh's endeavour to retain his hold resulted in his being thrown prostrate at the creature's feet.

Before the luckless man could realize his position there was a vivid flash and a sharp report, quickly followed by another and another.

O'Hara had fired point-blank at the animal's head.

The next instant Denbigh was pinned under the lifeless body of his antagonist, for a chance-directed shot had struck the ape in the eye, and had penetrated the brain.

"Hurt?" asked the Irishman anxiously, as he a.s.sisted Denbigh to regain his feet.

"Am I?" asked the sub blankly.

"If you don't know I suppose no one else does," rejoined O'Hara.

"I thought the brute had me that time. Hulloa! where's my compa.s.s?"

A prolonged search resulted in the recovery of the precious instrument.

Anxiously Denbigh revolved the case; to his intense satisfaction he saw that the luminous card was still sensitive.

"My word!" thought Denbigh, as the two men resumed their way.

"Whatever possessed me to take this business on? Idle curiosity and the love of doing something to pa.s.s away the time, I suppose. After all, I can't see how we can help our squadron in the slightest. And here are we running the risk of being stranded in a beastly forest, and perhaps being chawed up by some wild animal. Well, we're half-way there, so I suppose we may as well carry on. I won't be the one to suggest chucking up the sponge and making tracks for the _Myra_."

The Irishman's soliloquies were on almost the identical lines, but as neither communicated his thought to the other, the consequence was that they both persisted in their hazardous adventure.

It must have been about one in the morning, when, more by good luck than by good management, the two British officers stumbled upon the clearing on which stood the galvanized iron house that they had noticed when the _Myra_ lay at anchor in the lagoon.

Although no light was visible, there were men within, for the subs could hear the rasping of a file and the sharp whirr of a hack-saw.

"Steady!" whispered Denbigh. "Bear away a little. Remember we're close to the native village. Ten to one there'll be a crowd of dogs about, and our clothes, in spite of ill-usage, are fairly conspicuous against the dark background."

Twice they halted before they crossed a foot-track through the mangrove forest. At the second path, they had to wait until a party of German bluejackets had pa.s.sed. The men were armed, and were accompanied by a score of blacks, who had been impressed to drag a small field-gun up the hill.

Unsuspecting the Germans went on their way, and the subs, after a safe interval had elapsed, continued their way to the sh.o.r.e.

Suddenly O'Hara gripped his companion's arm and pointed. Fifty feet below them, and at a distance of two hundred yards, was the native village. The huts were wrapped in silence. Only the women and children remained, for the men had been compelled to throw up earthworks to defend the lagoon from the antic.i.p.ated attack. Outside the village stood two German soldiers armed with rifles and fixed bayonets, their duty being to prevent any of the inhabitants from leaving their huts during the night.

"It's not healthy that way," he whispered. "More to the left, old man.

I can hear the surf."

Ten minutes more found them at the edge of the forest, and on the brink of the two cliffs, immediately opposite which the _Pelikan_ had brought up and had fought her brief and unsatisfactory action with the British gunboat.

Bathed in the slanting rays of the moon, which was now on the wane, were the placid waters of the lagoon. Nothing could, it seemed, escape being detected up on that illuminated patch of sea.

"By Jove!" exclaimed Denbigh excitedly. "The _Pelikan's_ cleared out."

CHAPTER XIII

Nocturnal Investigations

"We might have guessed that," remarked O'Hara.

"Oh?"

"Yes; don't you see, she was spotted by our gunboat. She couldn't get away up the Mohoro River until Friday, and rather than run the risk of being sunk at anchor she's landed her mob of reservists and has put to sea again."

"To be promptly snapped up? No; I don't care to admit your reasoning, old man. We haven't come all this way through that confounded forest for nothing. Listen!"

A faint, rapid throbbing was borne to their ears. The sound came not from the sea but along the sh.o.r.e to their left, where a projecting tongue of land limited their range of vision.

"Motor," announced O'Hara laconically.

"And not a marine one," added Denbigh. "Come on. We'll follow this path; it's a jolly sight safer than keeping to the sh.o.r.e."

Once again they plunged into the mangrove forest, following a beaten track that, judging by its well-worn condition, had been in existence long before the arrival of the _Pelikan_.

Suddenly Denbigh halted and held up his hand. Footsteps were approaching, not those of the naked feet of natives but the booted tramp of white men.

The subs took cover and waited, fervently hoping that the oncomers had not a dog with them. The party advanced slowly and haltingly, so much so that for the moment Denbigh imagined that their suspicions had been aroused.

But without once glancing in the direction of the hidden officers the men pa.s.sed by. One was a petty officer of the _Pelikan_. Denbigh recognized him by his bushy beard. With him were four seamen, walking two abreast. The leading pair carried a roll of something wrapped in a painted canvas cover; the others bore a large reel of wire, paying out the thin cable as they went.

"H'm, telephone wire," muttered Denbigh. "That doesn't look as if the ship has cleared out. More than likely they've landed some of the guns to form a masked battery. It strikes me pretty forcibly that we'll have to investigate at both ends of the wire."

Not until the sound of the receding footsteps had died away--and it took an exasperating time--did the subs emerge from their place of concealment. The air was now almost free from mist. Occasionally patches of vapour drifted across their path, but generally speaking the miasmic belt ended at a distance of about half a mile from the sea.

O'Hara stooped and lifted up the wire.

"Let's cut the dashed line," he suggested.

"All in good time," replied Denbigh. "If we do so now they'll be buzzing around before we've made our investigations. I think we're on to a good thing."

Nearer and nearer grew the sound of the motor, until upon emerging from the grove the subs found themselves within a hundred yards of a German base.

At this point the ground sloped gently to the edge of the lagoon.

Without any apparent attempt at concealment two searchlights had been set in position. A dozen men in naval uniforms were standing around the projectors. The lights were "running" as was evident from the crackle of the carbons, but the shutters were closed, cutting off the rays. The current was produced by a dynamo, the power being supplied by means of the petrol motor, the pulsations of which had given the subs a clue to its position.

"What's the idea?" whispered O'Hara, indicating the unconcealed searchlight.