Dead Reckoning (14 page)

The best plan beyond question was to intercept the
Subtile
at the river-mouth, and Delancey plotted his course accordingly,
sighting the coast just before sunset on June 10th. There was a faint sea-breeze and the
Laura
came slowly into the anchorage and finally dropped anchor in eight fathoms. There was a period of minutes during which the jungle trees were lit for a moment by the purple sunset, and then, quite suddenly, it was dark. There was nothing to be seen on that moonless night and nothing to be heard except the murmur of fresh water against the ship's side. Delancey gave orders to clear for action and beat to quarters. After going the round of the gun-deck he had a final word with his lieutenants.

“I have reason to believe, gentlemen, that the French privateer
Subtile
will soon try to enter the Kapuas River. All lights, including battle lanterns, are to be extinguished. We must maintain complete silence, every man at his post. We shall then be in position to engage her should she make the attempt.”

“But will Chatelard try to enter the river at
night?
” Fitzgerald clearly thought the idea absurd.

“I don't know, Mr Fitzgerald,” but I think it possible. Chatelard knows this river very well. His preference, no doubt, would be to enter in daylight but what if he knows that the
Laura
is on his tail? In that event he would want to enter unseen and therefore after dark.”

“But can he be aware, sir, that we know about his base?”

“Yes, Mr Fitzgerald, he can. His Malay friends, who are in touch with him, may have taken our men prisoners and learnt something from them.”

“But our boat's crew were all killed, sir.”

“We have only Ellis's word for that and I don't believe a word he says.”

“So you think, sir, that
the
Subtile
may be approaching the river-mouth now.”

“I don't think it probable. But we should look very foolish if Chatelard were to make the attempt and we were all in our hammocks. I have told Mr Stock to have the flares ready to ignite at a moment's notice. Our first broadside should follow five seconds later. Our object must be to cripple the
Subtile
at the outset.”

Removing his shoes so as to step silently, Delancey prowled the decks, ready to reprove anyone who coughed or shuffled. The silence, however, was very well observed and he finally returned to the quarter-deck and took post near where young Stock had his well-shrouded lantern. Hours passed and it was nearly four o'clock when Burnet whispered, “Look, sir—there.”

The boy pointed but Delancey could see nothing at all. “A sail, sir.”

Could the lad be imagining things? “How distant?”

“A half-mile, sir.”

If there was anything there, it had to be the
Subtile.
No other ship in the world would attempt the Kapuas River in darkness. Some tense minutes passed, Delancey worried to think that his eyesight was failing, and finally young Stock whispered, “I see her now!” and pointed in a slightly different direction. The bearing had changed with the enemy's approach. Delancey sent Fitzgerald to alert the gun-captains and repeat the order for silence. Then he strained his eyes until, finally, he glimpsed the enemy and heard the leadsman singing out after each cast. He now saw with surprise that there were dimmed lights aboard the privateer. In the still night he could hear men at work or in conversation, having no thought of imminent action. The
Subtile
must now be within four hundred yards, the range diminishing . . . Then there was a shout from the other ship and Delancey knew that the
Laura
had been seen. “Flare—
Now!
” he said to Stock, and the whole scene was suddenly illuminated, showing the
Subtile
on course to pass the
Laura.
In that split second Delancey could see that she was a beautiful ship in immaculate order, commanded by an artist in his profession. “Fire!” said Delancey to the gun-captain of the aftermost quarter-deck carronade, and “Flare!” to David Stock. The whole broadside followed, making the frigate shudder and reel. The effect of surprise could not have been more complete.

Delancey was to say afterwards that the recovery of the
Subtile
did Chatelard infinite credit. He was in battle before he had even cleared for action. Many a commander would have hauled down his colours to avert the impending massacre. Far from surrendering, Chatelard drove his men to their guns and made some sort of reply to the
Laura
's second broadside. The scene on board the privateer must have been one of indescribable confusion and bloodshed. After receiving the third broadside the
Subtile
slid past her stationary opponent and was soon outside the
Laura
's arc of fire. “All hands make sail!” shouted Delancey but the order was obeyed too slowly. Some minutes passed before the pursuit began and the
Subtile
was still the swifter ship of the two.

Three more broadsides were fired at the retreating enemy, whose stern-chasers replied, but the range was lengthening and little damage was done. Ten minutes later the action ended abruptly as the frigate gently ran aground. The depth of water on the bar of the river was sufficient for the privateer but not for her antagonist. By the time the
Laura
had been refloated, not without difficulty, the morning light silhouetted the jungle trees and the
Subtile
had vanished from sight.

Delancey anchored the frigate in deeper water and called for casualty and damage reports. There were seven killed and eighteen wounded, four of them unlikely to recover. There was some damage to the rigging and to the bowsprit and five shot holes
to plug, all above the waterline. The frigate was little the worse for the encounter but the privateer, it could be assumed, was little better than a wreck.

After making his report, Fitzgerald offered to complete the
Subtile
's destruction.

“Let me take the boats in, sir, and finish her off while the French morale is low.”

“Thank you for that offer, Mr Fitzgerald. I shall be glad to see you perform that service but not immediately. I shall make the attack in a week's time.”

“But the French will have recovered by then. They will have strengthened their stockade, sir, and mounted their cannon ashore.”

“That is true, Mr Fitzgerald. You are forgetting, however, that we have the Malays to deal with. Their morale is unaffected because they have not even been in action. The sound of firing will have brought them to the scene in force. After a week during which nothing has happened, they will begin to drift away again. They never have provisions for more than a few days. Then I shall try again to achieve surprise.”

Soon after daybreak the
Laura
was under sail, presently dropping anchor again off Djawi. Once more a sampan came off from the shore, this time with just the one passenger: the Chinese from whom Delancey had gained the vital information. Although Djawi was nearly forty miles from the Kapuas River, the Chinese already knew about the skirmish at the river-mouth. Wasting no time, Delancey came straight to the point. Would his Chinese friend like to earn another five hundred dollars? He would indeed. Would he then make it widely known that the
Laura
was now on her way back to Malacca and Penang?

Assuming that the
Subtile
had been put out of action, and
being short of supplies, Delancey had decided to quit the neighbourhood and go north. He had called at Djawi for poultry and fruit but had to leave again almost immediately. So far as the Malays were concerned, the coast would be clear from tomorrow. Could the Chinese ensure that this news would reach Kertamulia? There was no difficulty about that, it seemed, the Chinese having business contacts all along the coast. He had no love, Delancey thought, for the Malays of the Kapuas River and had already guessed what Delancey meant to do. It would be a pleasure, the Chinese said, to see that Delancey's plans became generally known. There followed some everyday transactions, enough to explain the
Laura
's presence at Djawi, and the Chinese went happily ashore.

Sailing before sunset, Delancey dropped anchor next morning at the mouth of the Nuri River. Sending for Topley, he told him that he was to take a written message to Mr Michael Delancey. He was to command the cutter but Mr Burnet would be his pilot, having been up the river before, and his coxswain would also have had that experience. The object of the expedition was to persuade the Dyaks to attack the Kapuas Malays in one week from today. Topley was to be back at a rendezvous in four days and should be able to report that the Dyaks were on their way.

As soon as the cutter had been lowered and had rowed off, Delancey plotted a course for the island of Pedjantan. He had watered there before and thought the place suitable for a landing exercise and for rehearsing the attack on a stockade. Fitzgerald was brave enough but did he know how to deal with a boom so placed as to block a river? He might not have known the secret before the exercises began. He certainly knew all about it before they came to an end.

The
Laura
was back on the Borneo coast in time to rendezvous at nightfall with Topley's cutter at an unfrequented bay on the north side of the Nuri estuary. Three of the cutter's crew were sick but Topley was able to report on a successful mission. He also brought with him two Dyaks, one of them a minor chief and the other a young man who was to act as the chief's runner. He had seen the Dyaks begin their overland march and reported that Michael Delancey had gone with them and knew the exact day on which their attack was to be staged.

“But why did you bring these Dyaks with you?”

“I thought that they might serve a useful purpose and Mr Delancey agreed with me. The elder Dyak is called Tedong and he knows the Kapuas River, having formerly lived on its banks. The younger man, Sochon, is a good hunter and able to travel quickly through the jungle. You will notice, sir, that he wears the head-hunter's sword with a staghorn hilt. When the attack is launched Tedong may act as guide and Sochon might try to make contact with the Dyak force under Kanyan.”

“A very good idea, Mr Topley. And you think that Kanyan will be with us when the day comes?”

“Yes, sir. He and others seem to be bitter against the Malay pirates.”

“And is my brother in good health?”

Topley hesitated over his choice of words, anxious to tell the truth without giving offence.

“He is not very strong, sir, but he wants his Dyaks to regain their territory. I think he will keep going until the campaign is over. He might fall sick again afterwards.”

“Thank you, Mr Topley. You have done very well, using your brains and showing a readiness to take responsibility.”

Two more days were spent in training and in drawing up a
detailed plan. The central problem was the removal of the boom, without which the boats could not attack the
Subtile.
Delancey decided to storm the stockade in three stages. There would be, to begin with, a feint on the left. Then the real attack, on the right, would be directed against the end of the boom on that side and would culminate in the ropes being cut and the timber parts set adrift. In the final stages the boats would pass through and form line abreast for the assault on the privateer.

For the main attack Delancey detailed four groups, all under the direction of Mr Fitzgerald. One group would give covering fire with musketry. Two groups, left and right, would place scaling ladders against the stockade, climb them, and deal with the defenders by means of hand grenades. The last group would also have scaling ladders, would pass between the other groups and, crossing the stockade, would cut the boom adrift with their axes. This last group must be led by an officer, inevitably Mr Green-well, and the two grenade parties would be led, respectively, by Topley and Stock. The gunner, Mr Woodley, would lead the feint attack, assisted by Midshipman Burnet. The boats, each commanded by a midshipman, would finally go though—led by whom? There must be one officer left in command of the ship and this would normally be the captain, but Delancey decided to direct the whole operation and lead the boats himself, ordering Northmore to stay on board the frigate. This was a difficult decision to make but he realized that the assault on the privateer would have to be planned on the spot. He could not know, to begin with, whether the French would be on the stockade or on board their ship. He supposed that Chatelard would have to divide them, but in what proportion? The Malays again were an unknown quantity. As pirates they would know little about fighting but they might be numerous. Of their strength he could
make no estimate at all. Nor could he assume that the Dyaks would intervene effectively. They might, but his plan could not be based upon them. Supposing they did not appear and supposing that half his men were lost in storming the barricade, which was then found to be manned only by Malays, all further operations would have to be cancelled, at least for the time being. Who but he could take that responsibility? No, he must direct the operation as a whole and lead the final advance in person.

Delancey explained his plan of attack at a final conference attended by all officers down to the rank of midshipman. He had a large diagram pinned to the cabin bulkhead and drew arrows to show what had to be done by whom. When all questions had been resolved the officers withdrew but Fitzgerald returned at once to say that Mr Northmore wished for an interview with the captain. Delancey agreed to see him, knowing perfectly well what the young man was going to say. Some protest was inevitable and Northmore, white-faced and trembling, made a passionate plea to be allowed to take part in the operation. He felt disgraced, he said, to be left out of it.

“Mr Northmore,” Delancey replied, “I should have been disappointed in you had you failed to protest at this moment. We are on the eve of an enterprise which should reflect credit on all who take part in it. In all I said just now, with the others present, I assumed that our efforts would succeed. But now, with none present except Mr Fitzgerald and yourself, I want you to consider the possibility of failure. I should not ordinarily talk about that but I am paid to think about it and about every other possibility. Assume now that we attacked at daybreak and found that stockade impregnable, defended by numerous cannon and by a thousand resolute opponents. By midday our losses include all officers and over a hundred men. The survivors make their
way back to the frigate, many of them wounded and all exhausted. It then becomes the duty of the officer who was left on board to sail the ship back to Prince of Wales Island with only half a crew. Nor should you forget that the
Laura
may be attacked by the pirates while most of the crew are out of the ship. After the boats have gone up the river you will have more to do than bite your nails and wait for them to return. You have made your protest and I have rejected it. You need now to work and plan, listing the men you have and assigning them to the work they will have to do.”