The Land That Time Forgot

By Edgar Rice Burroughs

Page 26

and made for the bow compartment where
the torpedo-tubes are built into the boat; here, too, were the
torpedoes. The girl accompanied us, and when she saw the thing I had
in mind, she stepped forward and lent a hand to the swinging of the
great cylinder of death and destruction into the mouth of its tube.
With oil and main strength we shoved the torpedo home and shut the
tube; then I ran back to the conning-tower, praying in my heart of
hearts that the U-33 had not swung her bow away from the prey. No,
thank God!

Never could aim have been truer. I signaled back to Olson: "Let 'er
go!" The U-33 trembled from stem to stern as the torpedo shot from its
tube. I saw the white wake leap from her bow straight toward the enemy
cruiser. A chorus of hoarse yells arose from the deck of our own
craft: I saw the officers stand suddenly erect in the boat that was
approaching us, and I heard loud cries and curses from the raider.
Then I turned my attention to my own business. Most of the men on the
submarine's deck were standing in paralyzed fascination, staring at the
torpedo. Bradley happened to be looking toward the conning-tower and
saw me. I sprang on deck and ran toward him. "Quick!" I whispered.
"While they are stunned, we must overcome them."

A German was standing near Bradley--just in front of him. The
Englishman struck the fellow a frantic blow upon the neck and at the
same time snatched his pistol from its holster. Von Schoenvorts had
recovered from his first surprise quickly and had turned toward the
main hatch to investigate. I covered him with my revolver, and at the
same instant the torpedo struck the raider, the terrific explosion
drowning the German's command to his men.

Bradley was now running from one to another of our men, and though some
of the Germans saw and heard him, they seemed too stunned for action.

Olson was below, so that there were only nine of us against eight
Germans, for the man Bradley had struck still lay upon the deck. Only
two of us were armed; but the heart seemed to have gone out of the
boches, and they put up but half-hearted resistance. Von Schoenvorts
was the worst--he was fairly frenzied with rage and chagrin, and he
came charging for me like a mad bull, and as he came he discharged his
pistol. If he'd stopped long enough to take

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