Another Account of Historic

Incident.

In a book recently published, en titled, “White Man —Brown Woman,” the author, Mr. Richards, who was a supercargo in those seas for many years, gives the following account of the “Seeadler,” from first-hand in formation: — Approaching the island of Belling hausen, in the Schilly Group, to take aboard a load of pearl shell, left there on a previous trip, we espied a large

three-masted barque, high and dry on the outer reef of Mopihaa—sometimes referred to as Mopelia. Coming nearer, we found her men camped in tents on the island and that the vessel had ap parently caught fire after going on the reef, as she was now a charred, rusty hulk.

We dropped anchor in the lagoon and prepared to launch our boat.

So busy were we that we did not notice a ship’s longboat approach from the starboard side. We heard a voice, in French, ordering us to surrender, and turning, beheld an officer in the uniform of the Imperial German Navy.

He pointed a Mauser at the skipper, who became beside himself with ex citement and fear. I was too amazed to say anything.

They boarded us so suddenly that they might have dropped from the sky. The officer was a good-looking German, but there was a nasty glint in his eye as he lined us up on the poop. At last Captain Drisson found his tongue: “Mon Dieu! Mon Dieu! Mon Dieu!” he repeated; “Les Allemands! Les Allemands!”

The German officer, Second-Lieuten ant Alfred Kling of the “Seeadler” was a thorough gentleman. He explained to the now-weeping skipper that as the two countries were at war, he claimed our ship, the “Lutece,” and intended to set sail immediately and maroon us on Mopihaa.

“Hélas,” wept the skipper. “I come in ’ere to look for ze sheepwreck sailor, and I find les Allemands. Zey take my sheep, ma petite Lutece.”

Lieutenant Kling smiled and winked at me. If he ever reads this book, it may surprise him to learn that the writer was the then boyish super cargo of the “Lutece,” renamed the “Fortuna,” and finally piled up on a reef off Easter Island.

Ashore, we discovered Kananas, and members of crews of other schooners which had been captured by the “Sea Devil.” They represented the full com plements of the Tjiordken the Second and the Farallone. Their respective skippers had been dropped on an island in the Paumotus. As a greater part of the “Seeadler’s” crew was ill, these Kanakas were kept aboard to work the raider.

Lieutenant Kling invited the skipper and me to take possession of his tent.

He spoke excellent English, and was quite garrulous: “You’re English, eh, sonny?” he in quired, with an ingratiating smile.

“Yes, and England is a country you’re not going to beat,” I replied, heatedly.

“I think you’re right,” he replied sadly. “You people have too much spirit.”

“This isn’t a bad little island,” he went on.

“Been here long?” I questioned.

“About two months. That damned skipper of the Tjiordken the Second, which we downed, told our commander that this island was well out of the way, and an ideal place to beach the ship for cleaning. That passage is full of sunken coral, and as we felt our way through, a patch caught the ‘Seeadler’ amidships. Just when we had her about clear, a northerly caught us and she went broadside on. That skipper offered to pilot von Luckner in here himself. He’s a pretty brave man, and lucky he wasn’t shot. We dropped him and another skipper on Anaa, in the Paumotus,” and he

laughed reminiscently. “He was a wild one, all right—offered to fight any one of us, bare fists, but he was a bit too dangerous looking, even for the Count. Our commander liked people like that.’' “Good old Alex Doom!” I inter rupted.

“Yes, his name is very appropriate,” retorted Kling. “We sent him to his doom and he sent us to ours.”

Captain Alexander Doom, master of the Tjiordken, a huge quarter-caste Austral islander, later skippered the schooner Tereora.

I questioned the naval officer about the commander and other members of the crew, and was informed that they had left in the "Seeadler’s” launch, in an attempt to capture another vessel.

If successful, they were to return and pick up the marooned crew. But two months had gone by and he feared his dare-devil commander had been cap tured.

That evening the “Lutece” sailed for an unknown destination, with a strange crew aboard. I cannot de scribe my feeling as I saw her dis appear into the cloud banks on the horizon.

We were left marooned on the tiny island of Mopihaa, far off the beaten track of any vessel. The provisions left behind by the Germans could not last more than a month, as Kling had given us all the schooner stores he could spare.

The crews of the Tjiordken and Farallone described how the “See adler” had met her fate, and how von Luckner had accepted it all with philo sophic calm, typical of the man. The “Seeadler's” top gear had come down with a run, killing two men.

How she caught fire was a mystery.

It happened during the night. Von Luckner himself was surprised, and I have an idea that one of the native sailors knew a great deal about that fire. He did a service to France, as Alex. Doom had done when he advised the raider that Mopihaa was an ex cellent ishland on which to beach the "Seeadler.”

The daring of the Germans in em barking in a small launch to capture a vessel must be recognised. The risk in a small boat during the hurricane season was great.

I discussed matters with the skipper, who had cooled down. One of the raider’s boats had been left on the beach, but it needed a good deal of repairing.

I was astonished when Captain Drisson suggested an open boat voyage to Bora Bora, the nearest habited island, some three hundred miles to the south-westward, and right in the hurricane belt. But I understood his anxiety to reach that island, when he explained he had a young wife there, and was filled with a gloomy fore boding that she would give him up for lost, and marry another. From his description, I concluded that she was a rare peach.

Next day I wandered over the island and through the dense scrub. Wild fruits grew in profusion, and there were evidences of pearl shell in the small lagoon. The Kanakas went out fishing and returned with two large howk-bill turtles, the shells of which Captain Drisson promptly comman deered. We had turtle steak that night, and turtle eggs for breakfast the following morning.