WATCHERS OF THE WATERS.

Poverty Bay Herald, Volume XLV, Issue 14589, 26 April 1918, Page 5

WATCHERS OF THE WATERS.

OVERDUE. ' (By Bartimeus.) The thin light of a sickle moon 'tipped the crest of each swift-running sea with silver. The rest was a purple, blackness, through which the north wind slashed like a knife, and the sound of surf on a distant shoal was carried moaning. At intervals a bank of racing clouds trailed across the face of the moon, and then all was inky dark for a while. It was during one of these periods of obliteration of all things visible that a slender perpendicular object rose above the surface of the sea. Gradually the dim light waxed. again; a wave, cloven m its path, passed hissing on either side m a trail of spray, and the object slowly projected until it topped the highest wave. Presently about its base a convulsive disturbance m the water was followed by the appearance, of a conical shape, a solid blackness against the streaked glimmering obscurity of the water breaking all about its sides and streaming m cascades from the flat railed -in top. A hatchway opened, and two figures crawled out, clinging to the rail of their swaying foothold while the full force of the wind clawed and battered at their forms. They maintained a_ torse conversation by dint of shouting m turn with their lips to each other's ears, while the conning tower of tho submarine on which they stood moved forward m the teeth of the elements. For half an hour they went plunging and lurching onwards, clinging with numbed hands to the rail as a green sea swept about their legs, wiping the halffrOzen spray from their eyes to search the darkness ahead with night-glasses. Then one pointed away on the bow. "How's that?" he bawled. A point on the bow something dark tumbled amid the waves and flying spindrift. The other stared a moment, shouted an order to the invisible helmsman through a voice pipe, and the wind that had hitherto Deen m their streaming eyes smote and buffeted them on the left cheek. A scurry of sleet whirled momentarily about them, blotting ou1» the half -glimpsed buoy ; the -taller of the two figures put out an armband smote his companion on the back. They had made that buoy at dawn the previous day, and then, according to the custom of British submarines m enemy waters, submerged till nightfall. Notv, despite the set of the tides and currents and the darkness, they had found it again, and with it their bearings for the journey that lay ahead. Fbr two hours they groped their way onwards through what Would have been -unfathomable mysteries to a landsman. Compass, chart and leadline played their part; but not even these, coupled with the stoutest heart that ever beat, avail against unknown minefields and watchful patrols. Thrice tho two alert, oil-skin-clothed figures dived through the hatchway into the interior of the submarine, and the platform on which they had been standing vanished eerily beneath the surface as a string of long dark shapes went by with a throb of unseen propellers. Once when thus submerged an unkonwn object ' grated past the thin shell with a harsh metallic jar, and passed astern m silence. Then I it was that the captain of the submarine removed his cap, passing his sleeve quickly across his damp forehead, and the gesture was doubtless accepted where all prayers of gratitude find their way. The first gleam of g dawn, however, found no submarine ori the surface. It showed a business-like flotilla of destroyers on their beat, and a long line of net-drifters at anchor m the far distance amid sandbanks. An armed trawler with rust&streaked sides and a gun forward was making her way through tlie cold grey seas m the direction of tbe drifters ; a hoist of gaycnlored signal flags flew from her stump of a mastj and at- the peak a tattered German ensign. Tht crew were cluster- ; ed for warmth m the lee of the engine- . room casing, their collars turned np | above their ears, and their bands deep . m their pockets. They were staring ahead intently at the line of nets guarding the entrance to the harbor they were about to enter. None noticed a black speck that peeped intermittently out of their tumbling wake thirty yards astern, and followed them up the channel. Three or four fathoms beneath^ that questioning speck, m an electric-lit glittering steel cylinder, a. young man stood peering into the lens of a high-power periscope, his right hand resting on a lever. He spoke m a dull monotone, with long intervals of silence, and throughout the length of that cylinder, beside valve and dial and lever, a score of pair of eyes watched him. "She's given her funnel a coat of paint since last month . . . port ten — steady ! steady ! . . . There's the gate vessel moving . - . The skipper is waving to hurry him up .. . Wants bis breakfast, I suppose. . . That must be the big crane m the dockyard. . . There are flags hung about everywhere. . Starboard a touch. . . It's getting devilish light. . . There's something that looks like a battle-cruiser alongside." There was a long silence^ then the figure manipulating the periscope suddenly stood upright. "We're through," he said .quietly. "And that's their new battle-cruiser." In the smoking room of a British ■Submarine depot a group of officers sat •round the fire. / Now and again one or other made a trival observation from behind \his newspaper; occasionally one would glance Bwiftly . at the clock and back to his paper as if half afraid the glance would be intercepted. The hands of the clock crept slowly round to noon ; the clock"gave a little preliminary whirr and then struck the hour. "Eight bells," said the youngest of tbe group m a tone of detaohment, asv if the hour had no special significance. A grave-faced Lieutenant-Commander seated nearest the door rose slowly to his feet and buttoned uj> his monkey jacket. "You goiii' Bill?" asked his neighbor m a low voice. The upright figure nodded. "He'd have done as much for me," he replied, and walked quickly out of the room. * * * ' . * mi. No one spoke for some minutes. Then the youngest member lowered the magazine he was holding m front of him. "Do they cry?" he asked. "No," Baid two voices simultaneously. "Least," added one, "not at the time." The silence settled down again like dust that had been disturbed ; then the first speaker leaned forward and tapped the ashes out of his pipe.. "Well," he observed "they didn't get him cheap, at all events. I'm open to a bet that he sent a Boche or two ahead of bim to pipe tbe eide." Tbe group nodded a grim assent. "Yes," said one who had not hitherto spoken. "I reckon you're right. But we shan't hear till the war's over. They know bow to keep their own secrets. He puffed at his pipe reflectively. "Anyhow, thank God I'm a bachelor, be concluded. He lifted a fox terriers bead between bis bands and shook it