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Page 1
VII THE WHITE DJINN
VIII A SHIP ON FIRE
IX A PASSENGER FOR PENANG
INTERLUDE
X SOME PRAUS AND A JUNK
XI AUSTRALIAN HOSPITALITY
XII STALKED BY PIGMIES
XIII THE RESCUE
XIV SIR MATTHEW IMPROVES THE OCCASION
XV HERR SCHWANKMACHER'S CABBAGES
XVI A STOP-PRESS MESSAGE
XVII A MIDNIGHT VIGIL
XVIII THE LAST LAP
POSTSCRIPT
PRELUDE
Lieutenant George Underhill, commanding H.M. surveying ship
_Albatross_, had an unpleasant shock when he turned out of his
bunk at daybreak one morning. The barometer stood at 29.41'. For two
or three days the vessel had encountered dirty weather, but there had
been signs of improvement when he turned in, and it was decidedly
disconcerting to find that the glass had fallen. His vessel was a
small one, and he was a little uneasy at the prospect of being caught
by a cyclone while in the imperfectly-charted waters of the Solomon
Islands.
He was approaching the eastern shore of Ysabel Island, whose steep
cliffs were covered with a lurid bank of cloud. If the shore was like
those of the other islands of the group, it would be, he knew, a maze
of bays, islets, barrier reefs, and intricate channels amid which,
even in calm weather, a vessel would run a considerable risk of
grounding, a risk that would be multiplied in a storm. Anxiously
noting the weather signs, Underhill hoped that he might reach a safe
anchorage before the threatening cyclone burst upon him.
As is the way with cyclones, it smote the vessel almost without
warning. A howling squall tore out of the east, catching the ship
nearly abeam, and making her shudder; then, after a brief lull, came
another and even a fiercer blast, and in a few minutes the wind
increased to a roaring hurricane, enveloping the ship in a mist of
driving rain that half choked the officers and crew as they crouched
under the lee of the bulwarks and the deckhouse.
The _Albatross_ was a gallant little vessel, and Underhill,
now that what he dreaded had happened, hoped at least to keep her off
the shore until the fury of the storm had abated. For a time she
thrashed her way doggedly through the boiling sea; but all at once
she staggered, heeled over, and then, refusing to answer the helm,
began to rush headlong upon the rocks, now visible through the mist.
"Propeller shaft broken, sir," came the cry from below to Underhill as
he stood clinging to the rail of the bridge.
He felt his utter helplessness. He could not even let go an anchor,
for no one could stand on deck against the force of the wind. He could
only cling to his place and see the vessel driven ashore, without
being able to lift a hand to save her. Suddenly he was conscious of a
grating, grinding sensation beneath his feet, and knew that the vessel
had struck a coral reef. She swung round broadside to the wind; the
boats on the weather side were wrenched from their davits and hurled
away in splinters; and in the midst of such fury and turmoil there was
no possibility of launching the remaining two boats and escaping from
the doomed vessel.
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