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Updated: June 14, 2025
And she was herself strangely bewildered and excited. The transport's huge whistle blew a deafening blast, and the flower-crowned multitude surged closer to the side of the dock. Dorothy Sambrooke's fingers were pressed to her ears; and as she made a moue of distaste at the outrage of sound, she noticed again the imperious, yearning blaze in Steve's eyes.
The average length of a transport's voyage from the United Kingdom to Cape Town, as determined from 162 records, was 22-1/6 days. With them, and their one predecessor, 6,000 additional troops were at the latter date five weeks after the Boers' ultimatum became operative landed at the far base of operations, yet 500 miles by railroad from the front.
Meadville got to his feet and went unsteadily to the rail, keeping, as he threaded his way through the groups that covered the transport's after deck, a little of his cowboy's bow- legged stride. "I know what it is that makes men's eyes blink when they go down to that putrid mess," came a nasal voice. Fuselli turned round. Eisenstein was sitting in the place Meadville had just left.
There was a change in the sound of the motors. Joe followed the co-pilot's eyes. The jet fighter was coming up astern, dive brakes extended to reduce its speed. It overhauled the transport very slowly. And then the transport's pilot touched one of the separate prop-controls gently, and again, and again. Joe, looking at the jet, saw it through the whirling blades.
As Frank spoke, he swam down the river with swift, noiseless strokes, anxious to get as far as possible from the boat before the fire, which now began to make rapid headway, should light up the river and discover them to the rebels. The latter had ceased firing, and were scattered along the bank, making prisoners of the transport's crew as fast as they touched the shore.
The transport's fuel-tanks were topped. The remaining two children struggled into flying garments. The boy Hod took down the small tripod with its spinning thing on top. Instantly the area about the base main building became bitter cold. The children climbed into the transport after Gail. Soames, swearing, climbed in after a still expostulating Captain Moggs.
The Tricolor fluttered slowly down through the damp, still evening air from the transport's main truck, and almost at the same moment a fussy little steam pinnace which had been keeping itself snugly out of harm's way since the first French cruiser had gone down puffed busily out of the harbour, and the proudest midshipman in the British Navy for the time being, at least ran from transport to transport, crowded with furious and despairing Frenchmen, and told them, individually and collectively, the course to steer if they wanted to get safely into Folkestone harbour and be properly taken care of.
The hospital steward touched the Lieutenant lightly on the shoulder. "We are going North, sir," he said. "The transport's ordered North to New York, with these volunteers and the sick and wounded. Do you hear me, sir?" The Lieutenant opened his eyes. "Has she come?" he asked. "Gee!" exclaimed the hospital steward.
The hospital steward touched the Lieutenant lightly on the shoulder. "We are going North, sir," he said. "The transport's ordered North to New York, with these volunteers and the sick and wounded. Do you hear me, sir?" The Lieutenant opened his eyes. "Has she come?" he asked. "Gee!" exclaimed the hospital steward.
Soldiers gathered under the roof of the nearest watch-tower to observe our entrance into the harbour, while still others, unmindful of the blazing sun, perched on the top of the wall and swung their feet over the side, doubtless making numerous wagers as to the transport's name and its business in so out of the way a place as Misamis.
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