CHAPTER IX The First Day on the Island

"No agents' fees," continued Captain Davis. "Situation pleasant, healthy locality, standing on high ground, &c., &c. Frequent trams to the City—I don't think."

Burgoyne regarded the collection of huts without enthusiasm. Some were already rotting. The galvanized iron roofs were rusting through in several places, while attempts had been made to repair the damage by means of powdered coral worked into a kind of cement. Hibiscus plants flourished between the buildings, tough-tendrilled creepers clung tenaciously to the woodwork, as if endeavouring to cloak the defects with verdure.

"We'll soon get the show shipshape," remarked the purser. "I've seen worse cribs in the slums of Southampton."

"Then the sooner the better, Mr. Holmes," added Alwyn briskly. "Coming along, Captain Davis?"

The ex-skipper of the Kittiwake shook his head.

"Sorry," he replied. "I'm deputy chief cook for our crowd. They'd raise Cain, even though I'm their Old Man, if their grub wasn't ready. See you at 'stand easy'."

"One moment, Captain," said Burgoyne. "Before you sheer off I want to thank you. Also I want to ask a question: have any of you a razor to lend?"

Captain Davis laughed heartily.

"Bless me!" he exclaimed. "I hope you don't count on keeping up appearances, young man. If you do you'll be disappointed. None of us have seen a razor, let along handled one, for close on five weeks. Don't worry, beards grow quick enough in this climate, and you won't be long in the bristling stage."

"How about hair-cutting?" asked Burgoyne hopefully, with a view to ulterior motives.

"That was a proposition that worried us," admitted the skipper. "We didn't object very much to have to grow whiskers, but we drew the line at getting a mop like a bobbed schoolgirl. Take my tip. When your hair gets too long use a chisel, or rather get a chum to use one on your thatch. You'll find plenty of cutting tools in the carpenters' shop over yonder, but for Heaven's sake don't bring one into the compound, or Black Strogoff will give you a week in the 'Glory Hole'."

Half an hour later the passengers and crew of the Donibristle were in possession of their new quarters. One of the largest huts was set aside for a hospital, and into this Captain Blair, Mostyn, and the wounded seamen were carried. The steward and a deckhand named Twill (who had served an apprenticeship with an Edinburgh chemist, but, failing to pass the pharmaceutical examination, had forsaken the pestle and mortar for a life afloat) were told off to act as hospital attendants. This reduced the number of "hands" allotted to the cook-house to two: Colonel Vivian and "Young Bill".

The colonel was appointed to the post of head cook because it was a fairly "soft" job, and did not require much manual work. "Young Bill" was chosen to be his assistant because "Young Bill" was his daughter. In her new capacity Hilda Vivian would stand less chance of detection than if she had been compelled to work with the men outside the compound. It was at Holmes's suggestion that Miss Vivian had been sent to the cook-house. She rather resented it, and would have preferred a more strenuous, out-door occupation, but Burgoyne, in his official position as senior executive officer, clenched the arrangement, at the same time thanking the purser for his well-thought-out suggestion.

Ramon Porfirio had plenty of work on hand. He knew that the armed rabble that formed the crew of the Malfilio, and the garrison of the secret base, would not follow industrial pursuits. They were "gentlemen-in-arms", whether they were white, black, brown, or yellow, and when not engaged afloat or on guard duties they took care to live a life of ease.

The menial and industrial work fell to the pirates' captives. They were made to toil; but Porfirio was intelligent enough to realize that no man can perform a good day's work if he is half-starved. There was plenty of food on the island, so the prisoners had enough to keep them in working trim.

Amongst the pirates there was one hard-and-fast regulation that occasioned considerable discontent, but Porfirio showed unrelenting sternness with regard to it. He absolutely barred the use or possession of intoxicating spirits; not because he was an adherent to the tenets of Pussyfoot, but because he knew the dire results of plying Malays and Chinese with strong drink. Although he, his lieutenants, and the South American section of his band were hard drinkers, they voluntarily agreed to desist from the use of alcohol, so that the Asiatics would have no cause for jealousy.

Within the two hours allowed by Black Strogoff the Donibristle's men, marshalled into working-gangs, went to their stated tasks. The pick of the engine-room staff, under the supervision of Angus and Withers (the latter had resumed his official status), marched off to join the other forcibly-recruited workmen in the blacksmiths' and machinists' shops. The deck-hands and the remainder of the firemen were divided into two parties. One, under Branscombe, was to proceed on board the Donibristle and unload her cargo; the other, under Burgoyne, was told off to haul the booty to the top of the cliff and carry it into the store-houses.

Although the work of despoiling his own ship was an irksome and depressing task, Burgoyne felt glad to a certain extent that it fell to his lot. It gave him an opportunity to study the lay of the land, which, had he been sent to toil in the workshops, would have been denied him.

Escorted by two Peruvian half-castes, armed with automatic pistols and long, heavy knives, the Third Officer's men were taken to the edge of the cliffs surrounding the spacious landlocked harbour. From this point of vantage Burgoyne could observe not only the greater part of the anchorage, but a considerable portion of the island as well.

At one time there had been a powerful electric crane built on the edge of the cliff, its longer arm projecting well beyond the almost vertical wall of rock. The electric plant had given out, but the crane still remained, rusty, but to a certain degree serviceable. It had to be worked and trained by manual power, the hauling-up gear consisting of a large winch bolted to the bed of the former electric capstan.

It took the party the best part of two hours to overhaul and prepare the flexible steel ropes and treble-sheaved blocks, while Burgoyne, keenly on the alert lest any of the men should incautiously run needless risks, kept all his attention upon the movements of the active fellows swarming on the latticed steelwork. But when all preparations were completed, and the hard-worked men had to await the first consignment of cargo from the Donibristle, Alwyn found an opportunity to survey his surroundings.

Except for the conical hill that he had noted on his way from the tunnel to the compound, Burgoyne found that the crane was situated on the highest part of the island, although, when not in use, it could be run back on four parallel lines until it was invisible from seaward.

He judged the island to be in the form of an irregular oblong, three miles from north to south, and two miles from east to west. On the east side lay the landlocked harbour with its outer barrier of detached granite cliffs. Judging by the colour of the water the harbour was almost uniformly deep, with the exception of a rocky patch immediately inside the entrance on the port hand, and another about a cable's length from the extreme southernmost part of the curve of the shore. A mile beyond the entrance was coral reef, but how far it extended, and in what position was the entrance to the lagoon, Burgoyne had at that time no means of ascertaining, as both on the right hand and on the left the edge of the cliff cut the skyline.

Directing his attention inland, Alwyn saw little to be of assistance to him. The barracks, workshops, stores, and a building which he concluded was a magazine all lay on a lower level than that of the top of the cliffs. He had no chance of seeing what the southern and western sides of the island were like, except that he knew they must be precipitous. Whether coral reef completely encircled the secret base remained as yet a matter for speculation.

Towards the horns of the landlocked harbour, he could make out at least half a dozen gun emplacements, constructed for weapons with disappearing mountings.

"I must make a closer acquaintance of those gentlemen," he decided. "4.7's, or 6-inchers at the very outside. Even then it must have taken the Huns a deuce of a swot to get the guns up the cliff. Hello! There's the first boatload coming ashore. I guess Branscombe's jolly sick over his job."

The Donibristle had been moved a hundred yards closer inshore, and was lying between the Kittiwake and the Alvarado. The Malfilio had left, probably in pursuit of another prey.

It somewhat puzzled Burgoyne to know why the pirates had decided to take the Donibristle's cargo ashore. Cases of hardware and machinery would be of little use to them on the island; but, disposed of in Vladivostok or Petropavlovsk, where they might be sent into Soviet Russia, their contents would be of almost priceless value. But, Alwyn remarked, life just now was full of surprises, most of them being very disagreeable ones, and for the time being it was best for him to knuckle under and look small until the opportunity arose to be up and doing.

Steam had just been raised on board the Donibristle to enable her to use her derricks, but the work of loading up the boats proceeded slowly. For one thing, the men under Branscombe's orders showed no enthusiasm for their task. Neither did Branscombe for that matter. It was quite a different proposition having to work with forced labour. The men just kept going and no more, so that they would not incur the wrath of the pirates by obviously "hanging on the slack".

It was six o'clock by the time the first boatload of cargo had been hoisted up the cliff and placed in one of the stores. The crane was run back out of sight. The various small craft used in connection with the operation were hauled up and secured by stout padlocks to a heavy chain; the oars and gear removed and placed under lock and key. This task completed, the working-parties were to a limited extent free until the following morning.

On the return journey to the compound, Burgoyne and Branscombe were able to compare notes. Neither was enthusiastic over his share in the operations, but each had made good use of his eyes with a view to subsequent events. Presently they were joined by Withers and Angus, who had finished their daily task in the shops. All were agreed that the pirates, although unspeakably lazy, were smart at their unholy trade, and left nothing undone to safeguard the secrets of the island.

"It will take some doing to get clear of this show," remarked Phil Branscombe. "You couldn't see from up there, Burgoyne, old man, but the beach is bristling with machine-guns. They've mounted a couple on the Kittiwake."

"And what do they propose doing with the old Donibristle?" asked Alwyn. "Did you find out anything?"

"A couple of greasy, gold-laced blighters came on board," replied the Fourth Officer. "Apparently they didn't think much of things, 'cause they shook their heads and jabbered rather dolefully when they examined the results of their own gun-fire."

"It seems to me that our one chance is to cut out the old ship while she has steam up," said Burgoyne. "She's sound enough below the water-line, and her engines are all right, aren't they, Angus?"

The Chief grunted in assent.

"Oh aye," he replied without enthusiasm. "But I'll tak the liberty tae inquire what ye just propose to do?"

"The Malfilio is away cruising," observed Burgoyne tentatively.

"Yes," agreed Branscombe, "but there are at least fifty armed ruffians left behind, to say nothing of the quick-firers and machine-guns. We'd be a scrap heap before we cleared the entrance. Hello! Stand by! We're nearly there."

The four officer's separated to rejoin their respective parties. Other batches of men, crews of the Kittiwake and Alvarado, were held up outside the compound gate, while the guards from the two block-houses counted them and compared the numbers with those who had passed out earlier in the day.

It was now night, but two powerful acetylene lamps aided the guards in their task. Nevertheless it was more than a quarter of an hour later before the Donibristle's men were able to be dismissed to their huts.

From each building one man was told off to fetch the evening meal from the galley. Considering the limited supplies and utensils at his command, Colonel Vivian had risen to the occasion. No doubt Hilda had been in a great measure responsible for the success of the cooking, for each man received a pint of soup, in which floated minute pieces of mutton, and a small loaf made of wheat flour and taro. This they ate in their various quarters by the dim light of a small candle in each room.

"How do you like your new job, Young Bill?" inquired Alwyn, after he had complimented her father upon the cooking arrangements.

"I rather like it," she admitted. "It's a novelty; but I don't think I'd care to be a professional cook."

"You did jolly well," said the Third Officer admiringly.

"Wait until you've eaten yours," cautioned Hilda. "Then you might have cause to regret your hasty opinion."

Burgoyne stepped back and altered the position of the candle until the light shone on the girl's face. She returned the steady gaze unmoved.

"I suppose you know," he remarked slowly, "that I am responsible, as senior executive officer, for the passengers and crew of the Donibristle? You do? That's good. Then I'm going to reprimand you. Why have you washed your face?"

Hilda looked astonished.

"Washed my face! Of course I had to wash, especially as I'm a cook. You wouldn't like your meals prepared with dirty hands."

"No, I wouldn't," admitted Alwyn. "But I might point out that it is not customary to touch food with one's face. Now look here—I'm serious. In future rub your cheeks and chin over with ashes, or you'll be spotted for an absolute cert. Right-o! I'm glad you see my point."

Burgoyne's next step was to visit the wounded men. He found Captain Blair considerably better. The steward reported that the skipper's temperature had fallen, and was now only one degree above normal, while his wounds showed no sign of complications. Mostyn was not so well. He recognized Burgoyne and greeted him with a faint smile.

"I'm just slacking," he remarked feebly, "but you won't want me for a while, I guess. An operator without his 'set' is like Hamlet without the Prince of Denmark. But we had a run for our money, hadn't we?"

With one exception the men appeared to be doing well; but, as the steward was cautious enough to remark, it was too early to tell how things would pan out.

"Considering the limited appliances at your disposal, Barnes, you've done toppingly," declared Burgoyne.

"Glad to hear it, sir," replied the steward, but he omitted to mention that a great share of the credit was due to Twill, his assistant, whose medical knowledge gained in his student days was being put to good use.

His round completed, Burgoyne returned to the quarters allotted to the ship's officers, where he found his belated meal cold but none the less acceptable.

By that time the huts were invaded by the crews of the other captured ships. Keen to know the latest possible news of the outside world, they were anxious to fraternize.

Amongst the visitors to the officers' room was Captain Davis.

"All shipshape an' Bristol fashion, I see," he remarked cheerily. "Nothing like making the best of things. I'd like to have your cook. He must be a gem. The whiff of your grub drifted over our way and nearly drove the boys frantic with envy. Well, it's close on time to douse lights, so we won't stay."

"Douse lights?" repeated Burgoyne. "Is there any rule about that?"

"There is and there isn't," replied the skipper of the Kittiwake, with a grin. "If you put 'em out at nine, well and good. If you don't, often as not old Strogoff will beat up a party to hoist up ashes or some such job. So we've learnt a trick and out go the lights. Cheerio, everybody."

Ten minutes later Alwyn Burgoyne was in a deep, dreamless slumber.