He sent for the two mates to whom, in a few curt sentences, he outlined his plan of action. It was simple in the extreme, and, by reason of its amazing boldness, might even be successful. The Germans, he argued, though regarding the vessel with suspicion, would hardly anticipate the landing of an armed party, which was what he contemplated. The brief twilight would soon descend, and, the _Hawk_ being safely bottled up in the harbour, the enemy would probably not worry much about her till the morning; therefore the attack was to be carried out as soon as darkness fell.
When this had been explained Calamity and his officers set about making preparations for the landing. A party consisting of as many men as could be packed into the ship's boats was to effect a landing under cover of the darkness, while those left on board were to open fire on the fort with the machine-guns directly the enemy discovered the attack. By this means it was hoped to cover the landing operations and prevent the defenders turning their heavier guns on the storming party. To this end Mr. Dykes was placed in temporary command of the _Hawk_, Calamity himself undertaking to lead the attack from the shore.
In a remarkably short space of time the preparations were complete, and the only thing they waited for now was darkness--the swift, enveloping darkness of the tropics.
At last night came. Calamity gave the word and the men streamed out of the foc'sle, some rushing to the falls ready to lower the boats from the davits, others stowing arms and ammunition under the thwarts. Every man had his own particular duty to discharge; there was no confusion, no shouting of orders, no wild and objectless rushing about--everything was done quietly and systematically.
The Captain's voice was low but penetrating. Everyone stood still at his post.
The boats dropped from the davits, the falls were cast off, the oars flung out, and the bowmen stood up, ready to push off at the order. Quickly, and with scarce a sound, the landing party swarmed down the rope-ladders and took their places in the boats.
As one man, the rowers bent to their oars, the boats shot out into the darkness, and were lost to view by those left on board. The oars had been muffled, so that the only sounds which could be heard were the soft plash of the blades as they dipped into the water and the creaking of the thwarts and stretchers. But soon these noises died away in the distance, and then all seemed perfectly still to the dark figures crouching beside the guns on the _Hawk's_ decks.