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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78934 ***
+
+
+
+
+                       EDWARD STRATEMEYER’S BOOKS
+
+
+                            Old Glory Series
+
+            _Cloth   Illustrated   Price per volume $1.25._
+
+UNDER DEWEY AT MANILA Or the War Fortunes of a Castaway.
+
+A YOUNG VOLUNTEER IN CUBA Or Fighting for the Single Star.
+
+FIGHTING IN CUBAN WATERS Or Under Schley on the Brooklyn.
+
+UNDER OTIS IN THE PHILIPPINES Or A Young Officer in the Tropics. (_In
+Press._)
+
+
+                      The Bound to Succeed Series
+
+    _Three volumes   Cloth   Illustrated   Price per volume $1.00._
+
+RICHARD DARE’S VENTURE Or Striking Out for Himself.
+
+OLIVER BRIGHT’S SEARCH Or The Mystery of a Mine.
+
+TO ALASKA FOR GOLD Or The Fortune Hunters of the Yukon.
+
+
+                       The Ship and Shore Series
+
+    _Three volumes   Cloth   Illustrated   Price per volume $1.00._
+
+THE LAST CRUISE OF THE SPITFIRE Or Larry Foster’s Strange Voyage.
+
+REUBEN STONE’S DISCOVERY Or The Young Miller of Torrent Bend.
+
+TRUE TO HIMSELF Or Roger Strong’s Struggle for Place. (_In Press._)
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: OH, LUKE! SEE THE STARS AND STRIPES!]
+
+
+
+
+                            Old Glory Series
+
+
+                         UNDER DEWEY AT MANILA
+
+                                   OR
+
+                     THE WAR FORTUNES OF A CASTAWAY
+
+
+                                   BY
+
+                           EDWARD STRATEMEYER
+
+        AUTHOR OF “A YOUNG VOLUNTEER IN CUBA” “FIGHTING IN CUBAN
+           WATERS” “RICHARD DARE’S VENTURE” “OLIVER BRIGHT’S
+                   SEARCH” “TO ALASKA FOR GOLD” ETC.
+
+
+                            _ILLUSTRATED BY_
+
+                              A. B. SHUTE
+
+
+                                 BOSTON
+                       LEE AND SHEPARD PUBLISHERS
+                                  1899
+
+
+
+
+                  COPYRIGHT, 1898, BY LEE AND SHEPARD.
+
+                         _All Rights Reserved._
+
+                         UNDER DEWEY AT MANILA.
+
+
+                             Norwood Press
+                  J. S. Cushing & Co.――Berwick & Smith
+                          Norwood Mass. U.S.A.
+
+
+
+
+                                PREFACE
+
+
+“Under Dewey at Manila,” the first of the “Old Glory Series,” was
+written with a twofold object. The first was, to present to young
+readers a simple and straightforward statement concerning the several
+causes leading up to the war with Spain; to give a brief view of
+the conditions prevailing in the ill-fated islands of Cuba and the
+Philippines; and to trace, incident by incident, just as they actually
+occurred, the progress of that wonderful battle of Manila Bay, which
+has no parallel in either ancient or modern history, from the fact that
+complete defeat upon one side was entirely outbalanced by almost total
+exemption from harm upon the other. In this battle Commodore Dewey,
+since made Admiral, and his gallant officers and men, fought a fight
+ever to be remembered with pride by the American people, for it placed
+the United States Navy in its proper place, among the leading navies of
+the world.
+
+The other object of the story was to tell, in as interesting a fashion
+as the writer could command, the haps and mishaps of a sturdy,
+conscientious American lad, of good moral character and honest
+Christian aim, who, compelled through the force of circumstances to
+make his own way in the world, becomes a sailor boy, a castaway, and
+then a gunner’s assistant on the flagship _Olympia_. While it is true
+that Larry Russell has some hazardous adventures, the author believes
+that they are no more hazardous than might fall to the lot of another
+situated as Larry was; and if at times the boy escapes some grave
+perils, it must be borne in mind that “the Lord helps those who help
+themselves,” and that he had an abiding trust in an all-wise and
+all-powerful Providence.
+
+The author cannot refrain from saying a word regarding the historical
+portions of this work. What has been said concerning Cuba and the
+Philippines are simply matters of fact, known to all students of
+history. The sketch of Admiral Dewey is drawn from the narratives of
+several people who knew him well at his home in Montpelier, Vermont, at
+the Annapolis Naval Academy, and in the Navy itself. The record of the
+battle of Manila Bay has been furnished by over fifty officers and men
+who took part in the contest and wrote the details, for publication,
+and in private letters to relatives at home, and this record has been
+supplemented by Admiral Dewey’s own reports to the authorities at
+Washington.
+
+                                                   EDWARD STRATEMEYER.
+
+ NEWARK, N.J., August 1, 1898.
+
+
+
+
+                             CONTENTS
+
+
+ CHAPTER                                                     PAGE
+
+      I. LARRY AND HIS TRIALS                                   1
+
+     II. AN ADVENTURE ON PALI                                  11
+
+    III. A FRUITLESS CHASE                                     23
+
+     IV. LARRY RECEIVES TWO INTERESTING LETTERS                33
+
+      V. SOMETHING ABOUT THE DESTRUCTION OF THE “MAINE”        44
+
+     VI. A BRUSH WITH TWO KANAKAS                              52
+
+    VII. GOOD-BY TO HONOLULU                                   63
+
+   VIII. AN UNWELCOME SHIPMATE                                 73
+
+     IX. A TALK ABOUT THE TROUBLES IN CUBA                     81
+
+      X. ATTACKED IN A STORM                                   92
+
+     XI. A RACE AND AN INTERRUPTION                           102
+
+    XII. THE CAPTURE OF A SAWFISH                             112
+
+   XIII. AN ISLAND NOT ALTOGETHER DESERTED                    123
+
+    XIV. THE PHILIPPINE ISLANDS AND THE REBELS                133
+
+     XV. ALONE ON THE CHINA SEA                               145
+
+    XVI. CAST ASHORE ON AN ISLAND                             154
+
+   XVII. THE STORY OF A LONG TRAMP                            164
+
+  XVIII. THE ASIATIC SQUADRON TO THE RESCUE                   174
+
+    XIX. THE MISSION OF THE SQUADRON                          184
+
+     XX. ON BOARD THE FLAGSHIP “OLYMPIA”                      195
+
+    XXI. SOMETHING ABOUT COMMODORE DEWEY                      204
+
+   XXII. IN WHICH LARRY AND STRIKER ARE ADDED TO THE
+         “OLYMPIA’S” MUSTER-ROLL                              214
+
+  XXIII. GUN DRILLS AND LIFE ON A MAN-O’-WAR                  223
+
+   XXIV. “CLEAR SHIP FOR ACTION!”                             232
+
+    XXV. THE SPANISH FLEET IS DISCOVERED OFF FORT CAVITE      243
+
+   XXVI. THE BATTLE OF MANILA BAY                             252
+
+  XXVII. ADDITIONAL INCIDENTS OF THE GREAT BATTLE             262
+
+ XXVIII. ON TO HONG KONG――CONCLUSION                          271
+
+
+
+
+                         LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
+
+
+ “‘Oh, Luke! See the Stars and Stripes!’”                 _Frontispiece_
+
+                                                                   PAGE
+
+ “‘It ain’t the Cubans I’m talking about now’”                       44
+
+ “‘Don’t!’ gasped the boy. ‘Oh, you villain! Don’t!’”                95
+
+ “The boatswain opened fire with the shotgun”                       130
+
+ “The life-preserver floated but a short distance away”             152
+
+ “The boat lay on her side, half in and half out of the water”      174
+
+ “‘Commodore, it’s jest come into my mind to ask ye a favor’”       215
+
+ “‘Don’t fire! Don’t fire!’”                                        263
+
+
+
+
+                         UNDER DEWEY AT MANILA
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER I
+
+                          LARRY AND HIS TRIALS
+
+
+“Well, my boy, what is it?”
+
+“I stopped in to see if there was any opening, sir, that I might fill.
+I’m willing to work hard for small wages.”
+
+The man addressed shook his head slowly. “There is no opening. Times
+are bad, and it is all I can do to keep my regular help employed.
+Better try your luck down in Honolulu.”
+
+“I’ve been through the city from end to end. It’s the same story
+everywhere,” answered the youth, soberly. “I thought there might be a
+chance up here at the Pali; so many carriages coming and going. I’m
+used to horses, too.”
+
+“Do you belong in Honolulu?”
+
+“Hardly; although I’ve been there for nearly a month now. I came in on
+the bark _Rescue_, Captain Morgan, from San Francisco.”
+
+“As a passenger?”
+
+“Oh, no; as a foremast hand. Didn’t have money to pay my passage.”
+
+“Why didn’t you stay on the bark?”
+
+“She has been condemned and is laid up for repairs. She’ll not be able
+to go to sea for two or three months.”
+
+“And you’ve got to hustle in the mean time, eh? It’s hard luck for a
+boy of your age, sure enough. Can’t you get another berth?”
+
+“I haven’t tried yet. Captain Morgan was a very nice man to sail under,
+and I’ll stick to him if I can. Besides, I thought I should like to
+stay in the Hawaiian Islands for a bit and look around. They tell me
+there is nothing like looking around.”
+
+“That’s true; although it’s also true that a rover never gets a pocket
+full of money.” The man hesitated and glanced sharply at the boy, who
+looked hot and tired. “Did you tramp from down in town?”
+
+“Yes, sir.”
+
+“It’s a good six miles, and all up hill at that. Come in and have a
+bit to eat. It won’t cost you anything.”
+
+The invitation was well meant, but the boy shook his curly head
+decidedly. “I’m not that kind――thank you just the same. If you’ve got
+any work――”
+
+“I’ll let you work it out. Come.”
+
+The boy and the man had been standing in front of a long, low one-story
+building, set close to a broad highway, and surrounded by tall palm and
+other tropical trees. On one side of the structure were accommodations
+for a dozen or more horses, and on the other a small restaurant where
+light refreshments of various kinds were to be had.
+
+The spot was an ideal one, near the brow of a lofty precipice standing
+out twelve hundred feet above sea-level, and overlooking a vast expanse
+of the mighty Pacific Ocean. Here the island of Oahu, upon which
+Honolulu, the principal city of the Hawaiian Islands, is situated,
+seemed to split in two, and the sun, glaring down upon that afternoon,
+lit up one side and cast the other into the deepest of shades.
+
+“You’ve been in Honolulu a month, eh?” went on the man, as he motioned
+the lad to a seat by a side-table, and brought him several dishes which
+were already prepared. “Then you’ve been up here before?”
+
+“No, sir, I haven’t been anywhere but to Hilo and to the great volcano.
+I had a chance to take the trip to Hilo on a lumber boat, and I took
+it, just to take a run up to Kilauea. My, but that volcano is a grand
+sight!” and the boy shook his head enthusiastically.
+
+“It’s the greatest volcano in the world. Evidently you like to travel
+around.”
+
+“I do.”
+
+“You’re an American, I take it?”
+
+“Yes, sir, and I guess you are, too.”
+
+“Yes, but I’m not from the States. I came from Canada. I’ve been in
+the Sandwich Islands eight years now, doing one thing and another. I
+used to have a restaurant down in Honolulu, but the Chinese cut me out
+of my trade, and so I thought I’d try my luck up here. But business is
+awfully dull. Everybody said it would be better after the monarchy was
+overthrown and we had set up our own republic, but I don’t find it so.”
+
+“I guess they are going to annex Hawaii to the United States――at least,
+I heard them talk about it in San Francisco, and down in Honolulu.”
+
+“I shouldn’t be surprised. I don’t care, one way or the other, if only
+times pick up. I’m alone in the world, but I want to make my living and
+a little besides, if I can. Last month we had quite a few excursion
+parties up here,――folks from the Australian steamers and others,――but
+this month there hasn’t been anybody but city folks, and they either
+don’t want anything or else bring it along.”
+
+“The Pali ought to be a big attraction, to my notion,” answered the
+boy, as he fell to eating, with more good manners than the average ship
+hand, as Ralph Harmon noticed. “Captain Morgan was telling me about
+it――how King Kamehameha the First gathered his fellow-tribesmen around
+him in the valley and fought the savage hosts of the mighty Oahu and
+literally drove them over the edge of the precipice. That must have
+been a battle worth looking at.”
+
+“There was nobody here to look at it but those that took part――and it
+happened a good many years ago. Here, have another cup of coffee; it
+will do you good.” The coffee was served; Ralph Harmon looked out of
+the doorway, to find the broad highway still deserted, and dropped into
+a nearby rustic chair. “So you’re from San Francisco?” he continued.
+
+“I shipped from San Francisco, but I’m not from there originally. I
+came from Buffalo, New York.”
+
+“You’re a good distance from home.”
+
+“I haven’t any home there, any more.” The boy stopped eating and drew
+a deep breath. “No, I haven’t any home anywhere,” he added, in a lower
+tone. “I’m what they call a rolling stone.”
+
+“What is your name? Mine is Ralph Harmon, as you probably know by the
+sign over the door.”
+
+“My name is Lawrence Russell――although everyone that knows me calls me
+Larry. I used to have as nice a home as anybody in Buffalo, but that’s
+some years ago.”
+
+“I’ll wager you have quite a story to tell――if you’ve a mind to spin
+the yarn, as you sailors call it.”
+
+“Yes, I have a story; but whether it would interest a stranger or not I
+don’t know, Mr. Harmon. I ran away from home, or rather, from what was
+supposed to be my home, after my mother died.”
+
+“Running away isn’t, generally speaking, a good business, Larry.”
+
+“I know it, and I wouldn’t have gone only I was forced to it. You see,
+I never knew what it was to have a father. My father died when I was a
+baby, and I lived with my mother until I was thirteen years old, when
+she was killed in a railroad accident, and then I was turned over to
+my uncle, Job Dowling, my mother’s half-brother. He was a very queer
+man,――the neighbors called him a crank,――and he was so miserly that
+living with him was entirely out of the question.”
+
+“So you cut sticks, to use another of your sailor sayings.”
+
+“Yes, I cut sticks, and so did my two brothers, Ben and Walter. None of
+us could stand his――his infernal meanness――I can’t find any other word
+to describe it. We had money coming to us, but he didn’t half clothe
+us, nor feed us; and whenever the least thing went wrong he had his
+cane ready, and would strike at one or the other with all his might.
+Once he hit Ben in the arm and nearly broke it. But I went for him
+then, and threw him down, and Ben got away. That capped the climax, and
+he was in for having us all arrested, but before he could do it, Ben
+and Walter ran away, and I left about three months later.”
+
+“And where are your brothers?”
+
+“I don’t know exactly, excepting that Ben said he was going to try his
+luck in New York, and Walter said he was going to Boston. I wanted to
+follow Ben to New York, but when I ran away, my uncle came after me,
+and I hid in a freight car partly filled with boxes of mineral water,
+and before I knew it I was locked in and rolling westward at the rate
+of thirty miles an hour. Try my best, I couldn’t get out nor make
+anybody hear me, and I should have starved to death if it hadn’t been
+for the mineral water and a lot of eating that I had along, for I had
+expected to tramp to New York.”
+
+“And when you reached San Francisco, you shipped on the _Rescue_?”
+
+“Not right away. I worked at several odd jobs, hoping to earn enough to
+pay my way to New York. Then one day I fell in with Captain Morgan, and
+took the notion to ship to Honolulu and back, and here I am――and likely
+to stay for a while,” concluded Larry.
+
+“How did you like the water?”
+
+“First rate. You see, I was rather used to it――for I was around the
+lake at home a good deal. But I should like to hear from my brothers.”
+
+“Have you tried to reach them by letters?”
+
+“Yes; I wrote to New York and Boston from San Francisco, and also from
+Honolulu, as soon as I arrived. Before they left we arranged between
+us to write. I wish we had all remained together.” The youth finished
+his meal, then arose, and began to gather up the dishes. “I’m much
+obliged, Mr. Harmon. Now I’ll wash the things up, and then you can let
+me do that work we spoke of.”
+
+“There isn’t much to do. I was going to split up some of the logs in
+the back for firewood. You might do a little of that.” The proprietor
+of the wayside resort arose and stretched himself. “To tell the truth,
+I never supposed it could get so dull. If it keeps so――Hullo, here
+comes a carriage-load of folks now! By George, look!”
+
+He ran to the doorway and pointed with his finger. Larry Russell
+followed, and through the dust saw a large carriage containing three
+men approaching at a breakneck speed. It was moving to one side of the
+highway, and two of the wheels were constantly bumping over the rocks
+in a fashion calculated to overturn the vehicle.
+
+“Those horses are running away!” gasped the boy. “See, the reins are
+dangling on the ground!” And he ran out into the road in front of the
+building.
+
+“Help! stop the hosses!” sang out a voice full of terror from the
+carriage. “Whoa, there, whoa, consarn ye! Whoa!”
+
+“They are making for yonder gully!” burst out the keeper of the resort.
+“If the carriage goes into that, they’ll all be smashed up! The gully
+is fifty feet deep!”
+
+“I’ll stop them if I can!” came from Larry Russell’s lips, and with a
+sudden determination he bounded off in the direction of the runaway
+team.
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER II
+
+                          AN ADVENTURE ON PALI
+
+
+Larry Russell was a youth of sixteen, tall, broad-shouldered, and of
+good weight. His curly hair was of deep brown, as was also the color
+of his eyes, and his handsome, manly face was thoroughly tanned by
+constant exposure to the sun.
+
+As the youth had said, he was one of three brothers, of whom Ben was
+the oldest and Walter next. The boys had never known what it was to
+have a sister, and now they were entirely alone in the world, saving
+for the step-uncle Larry had mentioned.
+
+The boys had been brought up in a home which was comfortable if not
+elegant, and during her life Mrs. Russell had been all that a devoted
+mother can be, giving the lads a good education and a strict moral and
+religious training as well. Taking after their father, who had been a
+great traveller, the boys were inclined to be of a roving nature, but
+this spirit had been constantly curbed by the mother, who dreaded to
+think of having any one of them leave her.
+
+At Mrs. Russell’s untimely death, life had changed for her sons as a
+summer sky changes when a cold and wild thunder storm rushes on. The
+pleasant home had been broken up by the harsh and dictatorial Job
+Dowling, a man who thought of nothing but to make money and save it.
+He took charge of everything, sold off the household treasures at the
+highest possible prices, placed the cash in the best of the Buffalo
+banks, and took the boys to live with him in a tumble-down cottage on
+a side street, presided over by an old Irishwoman, for Dowling was a
+bachelor.
+
+The first strife had arisen from the selling of some little articles
+which had belonged to Mrs. Russell’s personal effects, and which the
+boys wished to save as keepsakes. “It’s all foolishness, a-keepin’ of
+’em,” Job Dowling had cried. “I won’t cater to no such softheartedness.
+I’ll sell the things and put the money in the bank, where it will be
+a-drawin’ interest;” and this he did with the majority of the articles.
+A few the boys hid, and these were all that were left to them when the
+final break-up came.
+
+Larry had told but a small portion of the particulars concerning that
+quarrel――leaving out how Job Dowling had struck him senseless with his
+cane, and how he had recovered to find himself a prisoner in the garret
+of the cottage, with his step-uncle gone off to swear out a warrant for
+his arrest. It had been an easy matter for the lad to escape from the
+garret by dropping from the window to the roof of the kitchen addition,
+and with the housekeeper also gone, to the market, the boy had had
+matters his own way in supplying himself with food. The chase to the
+freight yard had been a close one, and he had been all but exhausted
+when the door was shut and locked and the long train rolled on its way.
+
+The train had taken him only as far as Oakland, and there he had
+remained for several days, with not enough money to take him across the
+bay to the metropolis of the Golden Gate. Hard times had followed,――for
+runaways do not always fare so well as boys imagine they do,――and more
+than once Larry had crept away to some secluded corner, to go to sleep
+whenever the pangs of hunger would allow. It was hunger as much as
+anything else which had driven him to accept the offer to ship with
+Captain Morgan, and the first square meal he had had for ten days had
+been eaten in the dingy forecastle of the _Rescue_.
+
+Yet life on shipboard had pleased him greatly, and with the knowledge
+derived from days spent upon Lake Erie he had soon learned to do his
+full duty as a foremast hand, and as he was both strong and fearless,
+the climbing of the shrouds and the taking in of sail in the teeth of a
+storm had no terrors for him.
+
+The calculation had been that the _Rescue_ would not remain at Honolulu
+more than two weeks, before starting on the return to San Francisco,
+but a fierce gale had opened some of her seams, and after unloading,
+an inspection had showed that she must undergo a thorough overhauling
+before putting to sea again, or else run the risk of sinking in mid
+ocean. Upon learning this, Captain Morgan had put her into the basin
+at the ship-yard, and told the crew that they could either wait until
+repairs were finished or ship elsewhere, just as they chose.
+
+The first few days spent in and around the capital city of the
+Hawaiian, or Sandwich, Islands had pleased Larry greatly, for there
+was so much to see that was new and strange. In San Francisco he had
+met many Chinese and Japanese, but here in addition were the Kanakas,
+the natives of the Islands, a race quite distinct in itself, although
+allied to the Maoris of New Zealand. He had seen them first in the
+bay, hundreds of them swimming about,――for the native Hawaiian takes
+to the sea like a fish,――their heads bobbing up and down like so many
+cocoanuts.
+
+The city itself was also of interest, with its broad, smooth streets,
+lined with stately palms, and dotted everywhere with broad, low villas
+and huts, each in a veritable bower of green. Down in the business
+portion the stores were very much like those in a small American
+city, excepting that they were kept by all sorts of people,――Kanakas,
+Americans, Germans, Frenchmen, and numerous Chinese and Japanese. It
+was not an uncommon thing to hear two men talking, each in a different
+language, yet each understanding the other. On his first trips around
+he had visited the Royal Palace, now the abode of royalty no longer,
+the Government Buildings on Palace Square and King Street, and also
+the quaint Kawhaiahoa church, a structure composed entirely of coral,
+and erected by the natives shortly after the missionaries arrived and
+prevailed upon them to give up idolatry.
+
+Then had come the chance to sail to Hilo, a town situated upon the
+eastern coast of Hawaii, the largest of the group of islands. Arriving
+there, he had had time enough to travel on horseback with a small party
+to the great volcano. It was a two days’ journey, and at night the
+party slept in a native hut, under _kapas_, or bark cloths, and in the
+morning Larry had his first taste of the great national dish, _poi_,
+which did not suit him at all, although the natives and some others eat
+it with great relish.
+
+The journey to the volcano was a hard one, but once arriving at the
+top, the youth felt himself well repaid for his trouble. He was nearly
+forty-five hundred feet above sea-level, and before him was stretched
+the grand crater of Kilauea, nine miles in diameter, with the active
+portion, called Hale-mau-mau, or House of Everlasting Fire, occupying
+one portion of it. Nearly a day was spent here, and Larry went down
+into the silent depths of the crater, approaching so closely to the
+terrible fires that his shoes were burnt from the heat of the lava beds
+upon which he trod.
+
+The youth had sought to obtain work at the Volcano House, a hostelry
+situated upon the brink of the volcano, but here it was the same tale
+that was told to him at Pali――the season was dull and no extra help was
+wanted. So he went back to Hilo, a little place set in a wilderness of
+tropical growth, and returned to Honolulu on the lumber boat.
+
+The trip to Hilo had brought him in nothing in cash, for he had offered
+his services in return for the passage, and when he reached Honolulu
+again he found that all he had left out of his ship’s wages was six
+dollars and a half. “I’ll have to economize,” he thought, and sought
+out the cheapest boarding-house he could find. The place was full of
+sailors, and the next morning he awoke to find that he had been robbed
+and that his room-mate, a burly foreigner, was missing. He had at once
+reported his loss, but it did no good; and he found himself out in the
+streets penniless.
+
+Larry might have applied to Captain Morgan for a loan, but such was
+not his habit, and he set to work manfully to make the best of the
+situation. For several days he tramped here, there, and everywhere,
+doing what he could to pick up a living, until at last he came to the
+resort kept by Ralph Harmon, as already described. And here we will
+rejoin him, at the moment he resolved to stop the runaway horses, did
+it lie in his power.
+
+“Look out for yourself,” cried Ralph Harmon, as he came after Larry.
+“If you don’t, those beasts will trample you under foot.”
+
+“Whoa! whoa!” went on the excited man on the front seat of the
+carriage. “Consarn ye, whoa!”
+
+He was evidently a nautical fellow, for he was dressed like a son of
+the sea. He was standing up, waving his hands frantically. On the rear
+seat of the carriage crouched his two companions, evidently too scared
+to speak or move.
+
+To Ralph Harmon’s words, and to the yells from the turnout, Larry
+answered not a word, knowing that it would be a sheer waste of breath.
+But he continued to cover the ground at a lively gait, and as he ran he
+pulled off his coat.
+
+“You’ll be killed!” screamed Harmon, as the boy stepped almost directly
+in front of the team. Then the man saw the coat sail up in the air and
+land over the head of the nearest horse. As the animal paused at having
+the light so suddenly shut from his view, Larry leaped upon his back.
+
+“Good for you, boy! Now stop ’em!” shouted the nautical fellow on the
+front seat. “Stop ’em, and I’ll give you a five-dollar gold piece, as
+sure as my name is Captain Nat Ponsberry!”
+
+“I’ll stop them if there is any stop to them!” panted Larry, for the
+run and the leap had somewhat winded him. “Whoa, now, my beauties,
+whoa!” he went on, soothingly, at the same time reaching for the reins.
+
+“We’re going into yonder gully!” suddenly shouted one of the men on the
+back seat. “We must jump, or we will be killed!”
+
+“No, no, don’t jump,” answered his companion, a man dressed in clerical
+black. “The boy will stop the horses; see, he has the reins already;”
+and he added a half-audible prayer for their safe deliverance.
+
+It was true that Larry had the lines, but the coat had fallen to the
+ground, the horses still held their bits between their teeth, and it
+looked as if they did not intend to give in just then. The brink of the
+gully swept closer and closer. Now it was a hundred feet away――now but
+fifty――and now twenty-five. The boy’s face paled, and he gave an extra
+pull upon the reins of one horse, and the carriage swerved just a bit
+to the left, but not enough――and they swept nearer.
+
+“Get over there!” he yelled, and hit the horse on the side of the
+head with all the force of his naked fist. It was a cruel blow, and
+it skinned his knuckles, while the animal staggered as though struck
+with a club. But the blow told, the team turned,――the punished beast
+dragging his mate,――and the turnout swept past the edge of the gully
+with less than two feet to spare! A hundred feet further on the
+runaways came to a standstill, and Larry slid to the ground.
+
+“Young man, you have saved our lives,” cried the nautical fellow, as
+soon as he could speak, and lumbering out of the carriage he ran up
+and assisted Larry in holding the team, which were all a-quiver with
+excitement, and covered with foam.
+
+“I reckon they are about run out, sir,” answered the youth, as coolly
+as he could. “How did they happen to break away?”
+
+“I guess it was my fault,” answered Captain Nat Ponsberry, somewhat
+sheepishly. “You see, I ain’t much used to hosses, and the steerin’
+of ’em rather bothered me, and I worried ’em until they jest wouldn’t
+stand it no longer. Parson, I ought to have let you drive, or Tom
+Grandon,” he continued to the others, who had also alighted.
+
+“I don’t know any more about horses than you do, Nat,” said the man
+addressed as Grandon, also a sailor, by his general appearance. “Don’t
+catch me riding out behind such a mettlesome team again! What do you
+think, Mr. Wells?”
+
+“I think the boy has done us all a great service,” answered the Rev.
+Martin Wells, soberly. “Were it not for his bravery, and the kindness
+of an all-wise Providence, we should at this moment be lying at the
+bottom of yonder gully suffering severe injuries, if not lifeless. I
+for one thank you from the bottom of my heart for what you have done,”
+he added, taking Larry’s hand warmly. “I shall remember you as long as
+I live.”
+
+He was so earnest that Larry blushed, although he knew not exactly why.
+The others also took him by the hand, while Ralph Harmon came forward,
+and, directed by Captain Ponsberry, turned the team and carriage into
+his stables.
+
+A few minutes later found the party inside the little wayside resort,
+where for some time they discussed the adventure and the part each one
+had played in it. They had come up to look over the precipice, but a
+good deal of their interest in sight-seeing was now gone.
+
+“I don’t know as I care to drive those horses back to Honolulu,”
+remarked Captain Ponsberry, after he had insisted upon rewarding Larry
+by literally jamming a five-dollar gold piece down in his trousers
+pocket. “Have you got a man around here as can do it for us?” he asked
+of Ralph Harmon.
+
+“I will drive them down, if you’ll allow me,” put in Larry. “I am going
+down, and I’ll be glad of the ride. I’ll give you my word they won’t
+get away from me,” he added confidently.
+
+“There is no one around here now,” answered Harmon. “I have a native
+driver somewhere, but I am sorry to say he drinks and is not reliable.”
+
+“I shall feel safe with the boy,” put in the Rev. Martin Wells. “Don’t
+you say the same, Grandon?”
+
+“Why not, seeing how well he handled them before? Give the lad the job,
+Nat, and let us have the best to eat that the house affords;” the last
+words to the keeper of the resort, who at once bustled off to stir up
+his fire and his sleepy native cook at the same time.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER III
+
+                           A FRUITLESS CHASE
+
+
+While the party of three ate the meal prepared for them, Larry worked
+at the rear of the wayside resort, chopping the wood Harmon had pointed
+out.
+
+With five dollars in his pocket the youth felt easy again. In Honolulu,
+where accommodations were cheap, five dollars would last a long while,
+and he felt that his luck was bound to change before the money was
+entirely gone.
+
+Close to where he worked was an open window, and from the conversation
+of the three he learned that Captain Nat Ponsberry was the commander
+and part owner of the _Columbia_, a three-masted schooner, which had
+just come into Honolulu from Panama, and was to leave the following
+week for Hong Kong, China. Tom Grandon was first mate of the schooner,
+and evidently he and the captain were old friends, both hailing from
+Gloucester, the original home of the schooner build of sea-going
+vessels. The Rev. Martin Wells was to be a passenger, bound also
+for Hong Kong. He had been picked up in Honolulu, where he had been
+attached to the English missions. He was in no hurry to get to Hong
+Kong and had chosen the sailing-vessel because it was cheaper than the
+regular steamer, although, of course, not nearly so fast.
+
+The three made a pleasant party, both the captain and Tom Grandon being
+full of fun, and the clergyman not being above a joke himself, although
+never forgetting his cloth. More than once Larry found himself laughing
+at what was said, as each quizzed the others about being scared to
+death.
+
+“I’ll wager life on the _Columbia_ isn’t as dull as it is on some
+vessels,” thought Larry, as he finished cutting the wood and hung up
+the axe. “I wish she was bound for San Francisco――I’d give the _Rescue_
+the go-by and strike Captain Ponsberry for a position. Even as it is
+I may strike him, if nothing better turns up, although I’ve no great
+hankering to visit the land of the heathen Chinee.”
+
+“Well, Larry Russell, if that’s your name, I reckon as how it’s
+about time we boarded ship and sailed for Honolulu!” cried Captain
+Ponsberry, after he and his companions had made a brief tour of the
+Pali. “I promised to be back to the _Columbia_ by seven o’clock, and
+I’m a man as never breaks my word.”
+
+“I’ll have the team out in a jiffy,” answered the youth, and rushed
+around to the stable. The horses had been left in harness, and it was
+an easy task to hook them up. He drove around to the front of the
+resort, the three clambered in, and with a farewell to Ralph Harmon,
+and a rather unnecessary crack of the whip upon Larry’s part, they
+bowled off down the sweep of the road across which the stately palms
+were now casting long, wavering shadows.
+
+It was a beautiful drive, that down the Nuuanu Valley and into Nuuanu
+avenue, past lovely homes that have a perpetual summer, homes hedged in
+by palms and cacti, and here and there a field of bamboo, with vines
+clustering everywhere. In two places they passed large cemeteries,
+surrounded by tall, gray walls, overgrown with moss and guarded by long
+rows of solemn-looking cypresses; and then they came whirling down
+into the town proper, now silent and almost deserted, for the time for
+business was over, and the workers had hied themselves to their homes,
+to the bathing-beach at Waikiki, or to some other place of amusement.
+
+    “Oh, had we some bright little isle of our own,
+     In the blue summer ocean, far off and alone,”
+
+quoted the Rev. Martin Wells, and then, as if fearing he was getting
+too sentimental, he quickly changed the subject. “Larry, you drive like
+a veteran. Do you own a horse?”
+
+“A horse? I? Hardly. Why, I’m――I’m――that is, I don’t own much of
+anything in this world――just now,” stammered the youth. “Steady, boys,
+steady; you’ve behaved well so far; don’t spoil your record,” he went
+on, to the team.
+
+“Do your family live here?” went on the inquisitive man in black.
+
+“No, sir, I have no family, only two brothers, who are miles and miles
+away from here. I am a sailor boy, but my boat is laid up for repairs,
+and so I’m knocking about earning a living as best I can.”
+
+“A sailor boy, eh?” put in Captain Ponsberry. “Why didn’t you say so
+afore, youngster? A sailor boy, and stopped those hosses that way!
+Well, I never! Reckon you’re a putty good hand afore the mast. What
+ship did you sail in?”
+
+“The _Rescue_――Captain Morgan.”
+
+“Oh, yes, I heard tell she was laid up here――got knocked out in a
+southeaster――they’re putty bad around these parts, though they be wuss
+off the coast of Chili. So you’re one of his boys? Well, if you ain’t
+got much to do, come down and see me. We’re loading and unloading, you
+know.”
+
+“If you can give me work at that, I’ll jump at the job,” answered
+Larry, quickly. “I’d like to work out that five dollars, if nothing
+else.”
+
+“Now jess you stow it about the gold, lad; ye earned that fair and
+square, an’ more, too――eh, Parson? eh, Tom? Don’t you think our lives
+was worth――let me see――less’n two dollars each?”
+
+This was said so drolly Larry was compelled to laugh. “I wasn’t looking
+at it that way――it was a big price for stopping a team――I’d like to
+stop ’em every day in the week at that figure.”
+
+“God forbid!” murmured Mr. Wells. “You might slip down, and then――” he
+shook his head seriously. “Yes, yes, Captain Ponsberry, give him work
+by all means, if he wants it, and you have room for an extra hand.”
+
+“We’ll make room,” put in the mate of the _Columbia_. “There is one
+Kanaka in the gang isn’t worth his salt. I’ll discharge him and Larry
+can come on first thing in the morning.”
+
+So it was arranged; and at the livery stable where the turnout had been
+hired the boy left the three men, feeling lighter in heart than he had
+for a long while. A week’s work would mean at least six to nine dollars
+in addition to the five given him, and who knew but that his newly
+made friends would put in a good word for him elsewhere, or Captain
+Ponsberry might even ask him to go on the Hong Kong trip. The more he
+thought of the trip, the more strongly did it appeal to him.
+
+“I might just as well see all of the world I can while I am at it,” he
+argued mentally. “It won’t do me much good to go back to San Francisco
+right away; for I can’t help Ben or Walter, and none of us can bring
+Uncle Job to terms until we are of age and can apply for a legal
+settlement of mother’s estate. If I went to Hong Kong with Captain
+Ponsberry, and he promised to bring me back here or to San Francisco, I
+know he would do it.”
+
+As I have mentioned, the business streets of the thriving seaport
+city were practically deserted, but up at Emma Square, a few blocks
+off, the native brass band was giving its weekly evening concert.
+Although not a musician himself, Larry loved to hear a band play, and
+he wandered off in the direction, to join the crowd that stood close
+to the performers. They were playing a popular air, which had drifted
+hither from London by way of New York, Chicago, and San Francisco, as
+such airs are bound to do. Larry had heard the same tune in Buffalo,
+ground out on a mechanical piano, and for a brief instant a spasm of
+homesickness passed over him.
+
+“Music seems to be the same, no matter where a fellow goes,” he
+thought. “What a conglomeration of people and what a lot of native
+children! The Kanakas must love music. Well, it’s nice enough for
+most――ha!”
+
+Larry broke off short, and pushed his way through the crowd to the
+other side of the bandstand. He had seen a face that he recognized
+only too well. It was the face of the foreign sailor who had been his
+room-mate on the night he had been robbed.
+
+“See here, I want to talk to you,” he said, catching the fellow by the
+sleeve of his pea-jacket.
+
+The man turned and cast a heavy pair of eyes upon him, eyes which
+peered from under bushy eyebrows. He was a Norwegian, Olan Oleson by
+name, and his reputation well fitted that which Larry had given him.
+
+“What you want?” asked Olan Oleson, grimly, evidently well understanding
+what was coming.
+
+“I want my money, that’s what I want,” demanded the youth, firmly.
+
+“Your money? I know notank about your money,” and the Norwegian
+shrugged his huge shoulders and attempted to turn away.
+
+“I say you do know,” cried Larry. “You just give it back to me, or I’ll
+have you locked up.”
+
+At this Olan Oleson scowled darkly. “You mak one mistak; I no tak your
+money,” he growled. “Let go!”
+
+He jerked himself free, and slipped through the crowd. But Larry was
+not to be shaken off thus easily, and he quickly followed, to catch the
+Norwegian again by the jacket just as the crowd was cleared.
+
+“You’ve got over six dollars belonging to me, and I’m bound to have it,
+you rascal,” he said. “Come, now, no more fooling. I’m not in the humor
+for it.”
+
+“You go way, boy, or maybe you get hurt,” returned the Norwegian. “You
+mak big mistak――I never see you before.”
+
+“That isn’t true. You slept in the same room with me,――down to the
+Traveller’s Rest,――and you went through my clothes while I was asleep,
+and then got out. I’m going to have my money, or have the first
+policeman we meet lock you up.”
+
+The last words had scarcely left Larry’s lips when Olan Oleson drew
+back, at the same time putting forth one of his broad feet behind the
+youth. Then came a sudden and heavy shove, and Larry tripped over
+backwards, to fall with great force at full length.
+
+As the youth went down, his head struck the ground, and for a few
+seconds he was stunned and bewildered. Then he leaped up and gazed
+around him. The Norwegian was running down the highway as rapidly as
+his heavy weight and natural awkwardness would permit. He was off in
+the direction of the shipping.
+
+“He’s going to get aboard of his boat and hide, if he can,” thought
+Larry, and made after the man.
+
+Several squares were passed, and Larry was slowly gaining in his
+pursuit, when Olan Oleson turned and darted into a side street which
+was but little better than an alleyway. In a few seconds more the boy
+reached the spot, to find the fellow had disappeared as completely as
+though the earth had swallowed him up.
+
+The side street was filled with little shops, kept by Chinese and
+the poorer class of Kanakas. It was a foul-smelling and vile-looking
+district, and Larry went in but the distance of a block.
+
+“I’ll not run any more risks,” he reasoned, as he retraced his steps.
+“Some of those chaps look evil enough to knock a fellow down on the
+slightest provocation. I might be robbed again, and that wouldn’t pay.”
+
+Nevertheless, as he walked away, and sought a respectable lodging-house
+in another part of the city, he determined to keep his eyes open for
+the Norwegian so long as he should remain in Honolulu. But never once
+did Larry dream of the important part Olan Oleson was to play in his
+future life, causing him some amazing adventures, and placing him in
+a position to take part in one of the greatest naval engagements of
+modern history.
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER IV
+
+                 LARRY RECEIVES TWO INTERESTING LETTERS
+
+
+“Hurrah! Here’s luck at last! Two letters, and from Ben and Walter, by
+the handwriting!”
+
+Larry was standing in the handsome structure occupied by the Honolulu
+post-office department. He had just asked for letters, and the
+gentlemanly clerk had handed him two, each of goodly thickness, one
+marked New York and the other Boston. Both had come in on the mail
+steamer from San Francisco, which had arrived the evening previous.
+
+Hurrying to a secluded corner of the building, he tore open the letter
+from his oldest brother Ben; for both Larry and Walter had looked up to
+Ben ever since they could remember. The letter ran as follows:――
+
+    “MY DEAR BROTHER LARRY: After what seemed a long wait, I
+    received your letter from San Francisco, telling how you had
+    run away, and what trials and troubles you were having. I
+    guess we are all having our hands full. I know I am.
+
+    “Getting to New York was no picnic. I tramped as far as
+    Middletown, where I found work in an auction store, working
+    four days and earning my fare to the metropolis and a dollar
+    over. When I reached New York I tramped around for three days
+    without so much as a smell of an opening. By that time I was
+    out of money, and I can tell you I was pretty well discouraged,
+    too, when who should I meet on Broadway but Mr. Snodgrass, the
+    man who used to have the hardware store in Buffalo. He asked me
+    what I was doing in New York, and I told him I had come to seek
+    my luck, but didn’t tell him how badly off I was. He told me he
+    was in the wholesale hardware business, on Canal Street, and
+    I could come and see him. I went, and am now working for him
+    for six dollars per week, with some chance of a rise sooner or
+    later. My boarding-house address is at the foot of this letter.
+    The lady is very nice, and she cooks a good deal better than
+    Mrs. Rafferty did.
+
+    “I haven’t heard from Uncle Job since I left, and don’t want
+    to at present. But some day I’ll go back and tell him what I
+    think of him for treating us like so many dogs.
+
+    “I suppose this letter will find you in Honolulu, or some other
+    out-of-the-way place. What possessed you to turn sailor? In a
+    letter I received from Walter he seems to have pretty much the
+    same fever.
+
+    “I see by the papers here that Hawaii may be annexed shortly to
+    the United States, so if it is, you’ll still be somewhere in
+    the Union, won’t you? The papers are also full of our trouble
+    with Spain. Wouldn’t it be queer if the two nations should go
+    to war? If they did, I think I’d drop my job and turn soldier.
+
+    “I don’t know when we three will ever get together again, but
+    I trust it will not be long, and in the mean time I intend to
+    write to you often, and I want you to write also, both to me
+    and to Walter. Write again as soon as you get this.
+
+                                         Your loving brother BEN.”
+
+Larry drew a long sigh when he had finished the letter. It was written
+just as Ben usually talked, and in his mind’s eye he could imagine his
+elder brother standing before him. So Ben was settled in the great
+metropolis, with no notion of a change, excepting he might be called
+upon to turn soldier. Well, there was small fear of there being any war
+with Spain, or any other country. So thought Larry, and his thoughts
+were not much different from those of many others until the thunderbolt
+broke.
+
+The letter from Walter took longer to peruse, for Walter always had so
+much to say, and wrote such a twisted hand, and Larry was compelled to
+laugh outright ere he was done. Certainly Walter had had his full share
+of adventures.
+
+    “What in creation made you ship to Honolulu?” he wrote. “Why,
+    it’s almost half around the world, and you’ll make me a beggar
+    with buying such high-priced postage stamps when I’m writing
+    to you. I shouldn’t know where Honolulu was, only we’re all
+    reading so much about the Hawaiian Islands these days. Why
+    didn’t you ship to Alaska, or the North Pole, while you were at
+    it? Better strike Peary for an opening on his next expedition
+    to the land of ice.
+
+    “Perhaps I didn’t have it as hard as you, or Ben? After I left
+    Ben,――I got a ride on the train from Middletown to Albany,――I
+    just struck the worst luck a boy could imagine. My hat was the
+    first thing that went――the wind blew it from the train――and on
+    the outskirts of Albany I encountered a bull-dog that tore my
+    clothing nearly to bits. A tramp saved me from the bull-dog,
+    and I travelled with the tramp two days, when he obligingly
+    walked off with my coat and all my money――forty-seven cents.
+
+    “How I got to Boston at last would fill a volume. I have been a
+    farmhand, a glazier (put in two panes of glass for an old lady,
+    who had the glass, but not the skill), a blacksmith (helped at
+    a country smithy two days, when the regular helper came back),
+    a florist (worked three days in a greenhouse, and got no pay,
+    because I knocked a lot of pots down with a step-ladder), and
+    a deckhand on a river steamboat. Now, at last, I am here in
+    Boston, helping an old sailor, with one leg, that has a large
+    news-stand (the sailor, not the leg). The sailor’s name is
+    Phil Newell, and he was all through the Civil War. You just
+    ought to hear him tell about fighting and narrow escapes from
+    the enemy! He knows all about the war between Spain and the
+    Cuban insurgents, and he’s certain the United States will get
+    mixed up in the row sooner or later. If we do, he says I ought
+    to go as a sailor on a man-o’-war, and I don’t know but that I
+    will; for, according to Newell, it’s the most glorious life on
+    the face of the earth. Who knows but that I might come out a
+    captain or a commodore, eh?
+
+    “I know there is no use in speaking of Uncle Job, for Ben will
+    write about that, and I can’t think of the mean old fellow
+    without getting mad clear to my finger-tips. Perhaps that isn’t
+    just Christian-like; but really, isn’t he the worst that ever
+    was? And to think he was going to have you arrested! He ought
+    to be arrested himself――for breaking up our home, putting all
+    the money in the bank, and making us live as though we were
+    next door to beggars. But never mind; a day of reckoning will
+    come.
+
+    “But I must close up now,――the stand, I mean,――and I’ll close
+    up the letter, too. Good-by, and take care of yourself, and
+    write often, above all things, for it’s mighty lonely being by
+    one’s self, isn’t it?”
+
+“Dear old Walter, that sounds like him,” murmured Larry, as he stuck
+the epistle back into its envelope. There was something very much like
+a tear in his brown eyes. “It would be awfully nice if we were together
+again, and mother was alive!”
+
+Larry had stopped at the post-office as soon as it was open in the
+morning, just as he had stopped every morning since he had been in
+Honolulu. Now, putting his letters away, he hurried on, bound for the
+dock at which the _Columbia_ lay.
+
+“Well, I see you’re on hand,” was Tom Grandon’s greeting when he
+appeared. “You can get right to work, if you will. I’ve sent that
+good-for-nothing Kanaka about his business.”
+
+“Me take Kuola’s place,” said a thick voice at Grandon’s elbow, and
+both Larry and the mate of the _Columbia_ turned, to find a dusky, fat,
+and ill-smelling native standing before them.
+
+“What’s that, man?”
+
+“You send Kuola away――me take his place.”
+
+“I don’t want you. I’ve hired this lad to fill Kuola’s place.”
+
+“Dat boy?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“He no strong as Wakari――Wakari werry strong. You try um.”
+
+“I told you I didn’t want you,” answered Tom Grandon, half angrily,
+for the foul-smelling native had come up closer, and caught him by the
+shoulder. “You go and look for work elsewhere.”
+
+The face of the native fell, and he muttered something under his breath
+in his own language. He still wanted to argue; but Grandon threw his
+hand off and turned him around, and then he glided away, noiselessly,
+like some beast of the forest.
+
+“You’ll get into trouble with those boys, Tom,” laughed Captain
+Ponsberry, who stood near. “Consarn ’em! Give me a white man for
+stevedore work, every time. The wust of ’em are wuth three niggers! How
+are you to-day?” the last to Larry.
+
+“Very well, sir, and ready to pitch in,” was the answer. “I should have
+been here earlier, only I received two letters,――one from each of my
+brothers,――and I couldn’t help stopping to read them.”
+
+“Don’t blame you for that, for letters are scarce when you get away
+as far as this. I was looking for letters and papers myself; but Jack
+Dodger, who went after ’em, ain’t back yet.”
+
+The captain turned to another part of the dock, and Larry followed
+Tom Grandon on board of the _Columbia_. Although he had been a sailor
+but a short time, the youth knew how to take in many of the good
+points of a vessel, and his quick eye told him that the _Columbia_
+was in every respect an A 1 schooner, to use the Lloyds’ method of
+classification, and that all on board was in perfect order and as clean
+as a boatswain’s whistle.
+
+“She’s a good one,” he observed, as he saw Tom Grandon look at him
+questioningly.
+
+“None better, lad,” responded the mate, “and I expected you to say
+it. Now come up to the forward hatch. Do you think you could manage
+yonder block and fall without getting a finger taken off or dropping a
+valuable case of goods?”
+
+“I think I can. I did just such work on the _Rescue_ about a month ago.”
+
+“Then pitch in, and if you do a man’s work it’s a man’s wages that will
+be coming to you when the job’s at an end. Come, Hobson, Striker, bend
+to it now and no fooling, or the _Columbia_ will never be unloaded, to
+say nothing of getting our Hong Kong cargo aboard. Where is Oleson,
+that new fellow that shipped day before yesterday?”
+
+“He hasn’t shown up this morning, sir,” answered the man addressed as
+Hobson, a ruddy faced Englishman. “Was he to work with us?”
+
+“We didn’t hire him for it, but still he might take a hand――the sooner
+we’re unloaded and loaded again, the better. There you are, boy,
+steady now and let her go! Up, up! a leetle more! That will do. It’s
+all right――couldn’t have done it better myself. Hobson, this is Larry
+Russell, the brave lad that stopped the team yesterday. He’ll help here
+as long as there is anything to do,” and with a cheerful wave of his
+hand Tom Grandon moved to another part of the schooner, leaving Larry
+to continue the task which had been assigned to him.
+
+It is needless to say that the youth went to work with a will, not only
+because that was his usual way of doing things, but because he wanted
+to show Captain Ponsberry and the mate that he was capable of taking a
+man’s place, should it come to a question of shipping for the cruise to
+Hong Kong――something that was more in his mind than ever before, now
+that he had seen what a good craft the _Columbia_ was.
+
+As Larry worked, the eyes of two natives secreted behind a high pile of
+lumber on the dock beyond were riveted upon him. One of the natives was
+Kuola, the fellow who had been discharged, the other was Wakari, the
+foul-smelling chap who had come to take his place. Both were dissolute,
+only working in order to obtain a little cash with which to buy liquor.
+They watched Larry for a long time, then both shook their clenched
+fists at the boy and sneaked off.
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER V
+
+             SOMETHING ABOUT THE DESTRUCTION OF THE “MAINE”
+
+
+About an hour had been passed by Larry in steady work, when, on looking
+towards the companionway of the _Columbia_, he saw Captain Ponsberry
+rush up, newspaper in hand, and so excited that he could scarcely speak.
+
+“Tom Grandon, look here!” he cried. “Consarn the Spaniards, anyhow!
+Here’s news for all to listen to, and news that ought to set the
+whole United States on fire with indignation. We ought to drown every
+mother’s son of ’em at the bottom of the sea.”
+
+“What is it, Nat?” returned Grandon, rushing forward, while Larry and
+the others paused in their work. “What have the Spaniards been doing to
+the poor Cubans now?”
+
+“Cubans!” fairly roared the master of the _Columbia_. “It ain’t the
+Cubans I’m talking about now. It’s the teetotal busting up of the
+battleship _Maine_ and the killing of I don’t know how many of our
+gallant jack-tars! See here, the newspaper from San Francisco is full
+of it, with type six inches long!”
+
+[Illustration: IT AIN’T THE CUBANS I’M TALKING ABOUT NOW]
+
+And Captain Ponsberry held up the sheet in question, so that not only
+Grandon but all the others might see the flaring head-lines.
+
+                          THE MAINE BLOWN UP!
+
+               Total Destruction of Our Battleship in the
+                           Harbor of Havana!
+
+                  OVER TWO HUNDRED AND FIFTY OFFICERS
+                          AND SAILORS KILLED!
+
+         The Shock Comes at Night, and Without Warning. Captain
+          Sigsbee Safe, but Several Officers Known to be Lost.
+               A Partial List of the Saved Ones――How the
+                    News Was Received at Washington.
+
+                   THOUGHT TO BE THE WORK OF SPANISH
+                                AGENTS.
+
+       Captain Sigsbee Telegraphs to Withhold Judgment――He Says,
+             “It is best not to think, it is best to know.”
+
+A whole page of reading followed, in smaller type, which Larry could
+not catch. The youth stared at the head-lines, with mouth agape, and
+instantly he thought of Ben and Walter, and what they had said about
+going to war. If this awful news was true, and the Spaniards were
+guilty, would war follow?
+
+There was a second of silence, as the sailors read the lines, a silence
+broken by Tom Grandon. “Tell you what, this is awful, simply awful,
+Nat! And they say the Spaniards did it? If that’s so, there will be war
+in a jiffy, and don’t you forget it――and Cuba will be free.”
+
+“Yes, Cuba will be free, and Spain will get knocked into six million
+pieces,” blazed away Captain Ponsberry, who was wont to talk very
+extravagantly when warmed up. “The cowards! to blow ’em up when they
+were sleeping.”
+
+“Does it say that?” questioned Hobson. “No fair-minded nation would do
+such a dastardly bit o’ work, cap’n.”
+
+“I don’t say the nation did it,――as a nation,――but their officers did
+it, and that’s the same thing――the sneaks! I see some think it was an
+explosion from the inside, but I know that couldn’t happen in our navy;
+the rules aboard a warship are too strict.”
+
+“That’s right,” piped up a thin, nasal voice,――that belonged to
+Luke Striker, a sailor who had been working beside Larry. “Didn’t
+I put in five years aboard a warship, cruising the Atlantic? There
+couldn’t be no explosion from inside, not with the daily inspections
+of the magazines, and the wetting of the guncotton, and the keys and
+electrical connections in the captain’s cabin; no, sir. That explosion
+came from the outside, and――and――but, captain, won’t you read the full
+account?”
+
+“Yes, Nat, read it out; all of the boys will want to hear it, especially
+those who claim the stars and stripes as their flag,” added Tom Grandon.
+
+And so the captain of the _Columbia_ read the account which, stripped
+of its newspaper sensationalism, was as follows; the special report
+being dated at Havana, Cuba, Feb. 16, 1898.
+
+    “At quarter to ten o’clock last evening a terrible explosion
+    occurred on board or under the United States battleship
+    _Maine_, lying in the harbor of Havana. The battleship has been
+    completely destroyed, and over two hundred and fifty sailors
+    and two officers have lost their lives.
+
+    “The explosion was so heavy that many of the houses in Havana
+    were shaken, and people ran outside, thinking it was an
+    earthquake shock. It was soon learned that the great battleship
+    had gone up, and the docks were lined with people, while
+    rescue boats put out from all directions.
+
+    “The shock came without an instant’s warning. Captain Sigsbee
+    was seated in his cabin, writing a letter to his wife, while
+    many of the officers and sailors had retired for the night,
+    when there came a deafening report, followed by thick volumes
+    of smoke and a shower of iron piping and splinters, and then
+    the vessel began to sink, her heavy structure and armor plate
+    twisted, bent, and broken like a battered wash-boiler.
+
+    “The officers who were below, and who had escaped serious
+    injury, rushed or rather swam on deck, only to find themselves
+    in a mass of wreckage from which it was almost impossible to
+    extricate themselves. The explosion occurred close to the men’s
+    quarters, and but few of the gallant jackies got out alive. One
+    ladder leading from the rear torpedo compartment was literally
+    jammed with men struggling for life.
+
+    “Fortunately the _Alfonso XII._ was lying close by, and a
+    powerful searchlight was speedily turned upon the scene. The
+    steamer _City of Washington_, also close at hand, sent out
+    all her boats and brought in a great number of those swimming
+    about, many of whom were wounded and on the point of drowning.
+
+    “So far but few of the dead bodies have been recovered,
+    everybody being on the lookout for the injured. Many have been
+    taken to the hospitals in Havana, while some are lying at
+    death’s door on the steamships which were in the vicinity of
+    the explosion.
+
+    “A dozen theories have started up as to the cause of the
+    explosion. One is that the guncotton on board went off by
+    spontaneous combustion; another is that the plating between
+    the engine rooms and one of the magazines became too hot
+    and ignited the powder; and still another that the electric
+    lighting system is responsible. The general opinion among those
+    on board, however, is that the _Maine_ was blown up from the
+    outside, either by a torpedo or by a sunken mine, most likely
+    the latter.
+
+    “There is fearful though suppressed excitement in Havana, and
+    the Americans here look blackly at the Spanish soldiers as
+    they move from place to place. Spanish officers declare the
+    explosion must have come from the interior of the ship, and
+    profess to be deeply concerned over the disaster. Certainly
+    a majority of them are sincere in their condolence. But in
+    the back quarters of the town the Spanish sympathizers do not
+    hesitate to declare that it serves the Yankees right, that they
+    had no right to send a big warship here at this time, and that
+    they hope every warship that may come from the United States
+    will be served the same way.”
+
+“Is that all?” queried the mate of the _Columbia_, as Captain Ponsberry
+paused in his reading of the newspaper account.
+
+“That’s all the news there is of the explosion. I reckon everything was
+upset, and they couldn’t get details,” answered the captain.
+
+“The _Maine_ must have been a big boat,” said Hobson.
+
+“She was a big boat,” answered Luke Striker. “I know something about
+her. She was what they call a battleship of the second class――although
+I allow as how she was fust class all over. She came out of the
+Brooklyn Navy Yard and she was over three hundred feet long, nearly
+sixty feet broad and drew about twenty-seven feet of water. Her hull
+was of steel, and she was put down as about sixty-seven hundred tons’
+displacement.”
+
+“Who is this Captain Sigsbee?” asked Larry.
+
+“I don’t know much about him, exceptin’ that he came from the Naval
+Academy, and he used to be in charge of the Hydrographic Office, and
+I’ve heard he made a big thing of that.”
+
+“I see in another part of this paper that there were three hundred and
+fifty men on the pay-roll,” said Captain Ponsberry. “If that’s so, then
+only about a hundred of ’em escaped. It’s the wust accident I’ve heard
+of since the sinking of that British warship the _Victoria_, which went
+down by being struck by one of her own fleet while off the coast of
+Tripoli. She carried about four hundred poor sailors down with her, and
+Vice-Admiral Tryon in the bargain.”
+
+A lively discussion lasting several minutes followed. The news was such
+that it would furnish talk, especially for sailors, for a long time to
+come.
+
+But the work aboard the _Columbia_ was not to be forgotten, and soon
+Larry was back at his post, trying to make up for lost time.
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER VI
+
+                        A BRUSH WITH TWO KANAKAS
+
+
+Larry went back to his work with his head filled with what he had
+heard. The news was truly terrible. To think of those poor jackies who
+had been summoned before their Maker without an instant’s warning made
+him shudder, and half unconsciously he breathed a prayer that such a
+fate might never overtake himself.
+
+“None of the navy for me,” remarked Hobson, as he, too, resumed his
+labor. “I’ve sailed upon merchantmen going on twenty-six years, and
+they are good enough for me.”
+
+“I can’t say as much,” put in Luke Striker, who, as Larry soon
+discovered, was a typical Yankee, hailing from Bangor, Maine. “O’
+course the rules are strict, and you have to pay strict attention to
+all commands; but the jackies are a jolly crowd with it all, and then,
+if war comes, think of all the glory to be won!”
+
+“If a shell or a shot don’t finish you,” interrupted Hobson. “No,” he
+added, as Striker muttered something about being afraid, “I’m as brave,
+I think, as most men, but I’m peaceably inclined, and I say, let them
+as makes the quarrel go and fight it out.”
+
+“But the poor lads at the bottom of Havana harbor can’t fight any more,
+matey,” said Striker.
+
+“No, they can’t, an’ more the pity. But then they didn’t make the fight
+at the start. It’s those in high authority do that.” And Hobson turned
+to shore with a case of goods he was trucking; and the discussion, for
+the time being, came to an end.
+
+Although it was still early in the year, it was hot in these latitudes,
+and when the noonday whistles blew, Larry was glad enough to knock
+off for his dinner and a rest. He was about to go ashore when Grandon
+hailed him.
+
+“Have you paid for your dinner in advance?” he asked.
+
+“Why, what do you mean?” returned Larry, somewhat mystified.
+
+“I mean have you a regular boarding-place to go to for dinner? If not,
+you can have your dinner with the crew, and welcome.”
+
+“Thank you; that will just suit me, sir.”
+
+“You seem to be a good lad, and I like to see such get along. We had
+one young fellow on our last trip, but he wasn’t worth his salt. Tell
+Jeff I said you could mess with the rest.”
+
+Larry soon learned that Jeff was the ship’s cook,――a tall, fat mulatto,
+much given to singing and dancing whenever the occasion allowed. Jeff
+smiled broadly when the boy told him what Grandon had said.
+
+“All right, sah, jess git Hobson or one ob de rest to make room fo’
+yo’, an’ yo’ kin hab’ all yo’ wants, includin’ plum duff an’ a slice o’
+mutton. We is livin’ high in dis port.”
+
+“Mutton and plum duff will just strike me right,” smiled Larry. “When I
+was on the bark _Rescue_, it was salt horse almost every day.”
+
+“Well, I ain’t sayin’ wot de boys gits on a long trip,” answered the
+cook. “We runs putty close to de wind sometimes.”
+
+“Avast there, Jeff!” cried Luke Striker. “Don’t give the captain
+a black eye when he don’t deserve it. The eatin’ on board of the
+_Columbia_ is all it should be, an’ more, without thanking the cook,
+either. Ain’t that so, Hobson?”
+
+“You’ve spoken the truth, Striker,” rejoined the Englishman. “A man as
+would go thin on such grub has no right to live. If you want to ship,
+lad, just you strike Captain Nat Ponsberry for a berth, and you’ll be
+safe.”
+
+“Do you think he would take me?” questioned Larry, not stopping to
+think twice.
+
+“Hullo, do you want to go to Hong Kong?” put in Luke Striker. “I
+thought you said something this forenoon about getting back to the
+States.”
+
+“I do think of going back, but I might take this trip first. I haven’t
+seen much of the vessel, but what I have seen has pleased me, and
+I took to Captain Ponsberry and Mr. Grandon the very hour I became
+acquainted with them.”
+
+“Which was nateral lad, quite nateral,” said Striker. “I did the
+same――and I’ve never regretted it. But about taking you――that’s another
+question. Do you know the ropes?”
+
+“I think I do.”
+
+“How about doing your duty aloft when there’s a storm on and the ship
+is pitching an’ creakin’ an’ groanin’ like she was going to Davy Jones’
+locker? Would you pull in and clew up for all you was worth then?”
+
+“I’d try to do my duty.”
+
+“Douse my toplights if I don’t think you would; eh, Hobson?”
+
+“I should hope so. But there’s no telling what’s in man or boy until
+he’s put to the test. However, if the lad thinks to ship on the
+_Columbia_, it would do no harm to broach the subject to the captain,”
+concluded the English sailor.
+
+Once having spoken of the matter on his mind, Larry was now quite
+anxious to speak to the master of the _Columbia_ concerning the trip.
+But during the afternoon neither Captain Ponsberry nor the mate showed
+themselves, having gone up to the Custom House to see about clearance
+papers.
+
+“He can use one more hand,” said Hobson. “But I heard Grandon speak of
+a German who wanted to go, a fellow who used to be a sailor but is now
+working on one of the Oahu sugar plantations. If he’s shipped him, I
+don’t see how they will be room for another.”
+
+At this Larry’s hopes fell somewhat, but they rose again when Luke
+Striker said he would speak to the captain as soon as he came back.
+With this he had to be content, and at the end of the day’s work he
+bade the others good-night, picked up his coat, and left the vessel.
+
+His boarding-house was quite a distance from the shipping, and Larry
+had not covered many squares before he noticed that he was being
+followed. The persons after him were the two natives who had watched
+him, and each was armed with a stout club.
+
+“It’s queer that they should follow me,” thought Larry. “What can they
+be up to?”
+
+The youth was not kept long in doubt. Having passed from the main
+street into one of less pretensions, he was on the point of entering
+the shady grounds surrounding the new boarding-house he had selected,
+when both natives ran up, each catching him by an arm.
+
+“Want to speak to American boy,” said the one named Wakari.
+
+“Well, what do you want?” demanded Larry, at the same time trying in
+vain to pull himself free.
+
+“American boy take work away from Kuola,” answered the second native.
+“Must pay for doing dat.”
+
+“Took work away from you? What do you mean?”
+
+“Kuola work down at dock, on boat _Columbia_. American boy get captain
+to send Kuola off, and American boy take Kuola’s place.”
+
+“I didn’t get them to send you off,” returned Larry, a light dawning
+upon him. “He sent you off because you drink.” He mentioned the last
+fact for Kuola’s breath smelt strongly of rum, as did also the breath
+of Wakari.
+
+Both of the natives scowled until their faces assumed a most ferocious
+appearance.
+
+“American boy pay Kuola for loss of work――must pay,” insisted the
+discharged one.
+
+“What do you want?” asked Larry, not that he intended to pay anything,
+but in order to gain time to think over what was best to be done. The
+boarding-house stood fifty feet back among the trees; it was dark at
+the entrance to the grounds, and the road was practically deserted.
+
+“Pay Kuola and Wakari each two dollars,” came the quick reply.
+
+“And will you let me go unharmed if I do that?”
+
+“Yes,” and the natives’ eyes gleamed, for they felt certain by the
+worried look upon Larry’s face that their demand would be satisfied.
+
+“Let me see what money I have in my pockets,” went on the youth,
+and shook Kuola off, at the same time putting one hand down into his
+trousers pocket.
+
+Satisfied that all was going well for them, Wakari also released his
+hold. Hardly had he done so than Larry snatched the club from his hand
+and sprang into the gateway.
+
+“Now clear out, both of you!” he cried sternly. “If you don’t, one or
+the other will get a cracked head. You can’t play any such game as this
+on an American boy!”
+
+The natives were dumbfounded at the sudden turn of affairs. Unarmed,
+Wakari lost no time in retreating, for he had no taste for a blow from
+the weapon he had carried, while Kuola stood still, not knowing what to
+do.
+
+“Skip!” went on Larry, advancing upon Kuola. “Help, somebody! Thieves!”
+
+“Be still!” fairly hissed the native, and now his club was raised.
+He aimed a savage crack at Larry’s head, but the boy was alert, and
+quick at dodging, and the weapon merely struck resoundingly upon the
+gate-post.
+
+Footsteps were now heard approaching, and once again Larry raised his
+cry for help, at the same time making a pass at Kuola, striking him
+a glancing blow upon the bare shoulder. Then Wakari gave a cry of
+warning. “Somebody comes; we must run,” he said, in his native tongue.
+
+“What is the matter here?” came in a voice which sounded familiar to
+Larry, and in a second more the Rev. Martin Wells appeared from out of
+the darkness.
+
+“Help! they want to rob me!” answered the boy. “Oh, Mr. Wells, is that
+you?”
+
+“Lawrence Russell!” came from the missionary. He turned to the natives.
+“So you would rob this lad? Are you not ashamed of yourselves? Begone!”
+
+But his words were not heard; for seeing the newcomer was a man, and
+one carrying a heavy cane, the pair of rascals turned, uttered a few
+words under their breath, and sped away in the darkness. At first Larry
+was for following them, but he quickly gave up the thought.
+
+“I’m glad you came,” he said, as soon as the excitement was over. “I
+don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t chanced along.”
+
+“‘One good turn deserves another,’ Lawrence,” quoted Mr. Wells. “You
+saved me from one peril, and now I’ve saved you from another, so we
+are quits――not but that I shall remember your brave deed,” he added
+hastily. “But it is odd they singled you out for an attack.”
+
+In a few words the state of the situation was explained, the missionary
+listening with much interest. “The savage blood is in them,” he said,
+with a grave shake of his head. “There is still much church work to do
+here. I would remain in this field of labor were it not that I have
+explicit orders from our home board to go to Hong Kong.”
+
+“I understand that you are to be a passenger on the _Columbia_,” said
+Larry, hastily, struck with a sudden idea.
+
+“Yes, my lad, I have picked out that vessel, for it seems to be a good
+one, and Captain Ponsberry is very much to my liking, too.”
+
+“Then perhaps you wouldn’t mind putting in a good word for me, sir. I
+want to ship in her for the Hong Kong trip.”
+
+“I’ll willingly speak to the captain about it, if you desire it,”
+returned the missionary.
+
+A few words more followed, Larry explaining the situation, and the
+Rev. Mr. Wells promising to do all he could towards securing the boy
+the desired berth; and then the two parted, the best of friends.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER VII
+
+                          GOOD-BY TO HONOLULU
+
+
+“So you want to ship on board of the _Columbia_, lad? Well, I don’t
+know. I’ve never had quite such a young hand as you, and the trip to
+Hong Kong is a long one, and, at this time of the year, it may be
+mighty rough.”
+
+“I am willing to take what comes,” answered Larry. “I think I am nearly
+as strong as the average man.”
+
+Larry and Captain Ponsberry were standing near the companionway of
+the schooner. Luke Striker had just spoken to the captain of Larry’s
+desire, and Hobson had put in a good word, and the skipper had called
+the youth from his labors.
+
+“He works as good as any of us, cap’n,” said Striker. “He’s a likely
+lad, an’――excuse me for a-sayin’ of it――but I don’t think you can do
+better.”
+
+At this instant the Rev. Martin Wells joined the group, having come
+aboard to see that proper care was taken of a box of books he desired
+shipped.
+
+“Captain Ponsberry, this young man would like to ship with you, and I
+promised to say a good word in his favor. If you――”
+
+“No use to say more, parson,” was the good-natured interruption. “All
+seem to be in favor of it, and the lad can go if he’s set on it. But,
+Russell, remember what I told you about its being a rough trip, and
+remember, too, you ship as a regular foremast hand, working as they
+work and living as they live.”
+
+“I understand it all, sir,” answered Larry, with a happy smile,
+which was increased when he beheld a good-natured twinkle in Captain
+Ponsberry’s eye. He knew he was making no mistake, and that the captain
+would prove as good a man to sail under as there was to be found. “I’ll
+do my level best, and you won’t find me skulking when I’m wanted.”
+
+“If I do, I’ll rope-end you,” was the answer, but the threat only made
+Striker and Hobson laugh. “I never seen the old man with a rope-end
+yet,” whispered the Yankee into Larry’s ear.
+
+So it was all settled, and that noon Larry signed articles to sail
+under Captain Ponsberry in an immediate trip to Hong Kong, China, and
+back, said round trip to last not longer than seven months, barring
+accident, the lad to receive twelve dollars per month and found.
+
+“And now I’m booked to visit the heathen Chinee, after all,” murmured
+the youth, as he turned away to continue his work on the cargo; but
+never for an instant did he dream of all that was to happen before his
+eyes beheld the coast of China.
+
+Larry had told his newly made friends all about Kuola and Wakari, and
+they, especially Striker and Hobson, had promised to keep a weather
+eye open for the two rascals. “I’ll pitch into ’em fust sight, douse
+my toplight if I don’t,” was the manner in which the Yankee expressed
+himself. “Ain’t nothin’ so healthy fur these furiners as to teach ’em a
+wholesome lesson.”
+
+But keeping a “weather eye open” was quite useless; not but that
+Kuola and Wakari would have been only too glad to visit harm upon
+Larry’s head. The fact of the matter was, after beating a retreat upon
+the appearance of the Rev. Martin Wells, the two rascals had sought
+consolation in drink, with the result that both had swallowed more than
+was good for them, engaged in a free fight with others in the resort
+they visited, and Kuola was now laid up in bed with a broken head,
+while Wakari was in the local jail, serving out a sentence of sixty
+days.
+
+Larry was looking out not merely for the natives. He had the Norwegian
+who had robbed him still in mind, and several idle hours in the evening
+were spent in trying to hunt this fellow down, but without result. He
+had told Striker, Hobson, and the others of the affair, and they were
+justly indignant.
+
+“Such a fellow is no better nor them Kanakas,” growled Luke Striker.
+“It’s a pity they couldn’t ship in some craft as was bound for Davy
+Jones’ locker. Now the cap’n’s took one furiner aboard as I don’t like
+the looks of, but he’s signed, an’ that’s an end on it, I reckon.
+Hobson, have you heard anything of this Oleson?”
+
+“Tom Grandon said he wasn’t coming aboard till the day we sailed,”
+responded the English sailor. “No, I didn’t like his looks either. Wish
+the captain had taken an Englishman or an American instead. I can’t
+bear those Norwegians nor Poles nor Russians.”
+
+In another day the cargo was entirely removed, and then the _Columbia_
+lost no time in taking on her new load for Hong Kong,――a miscellaneous
+collection of articles, some of them rather heavy. This work was very
+laborious, and Larry and the other workers perspired freely under the
+tropical sun.
+
+“Oh! but it’s hot!” he said once, as he stopped to run the perspiration
+from his forehead with the side of his finger. “We don’t catch anything
+like this in the States, at least not up North.”
+
+“This is nothing,” answered Hobson. “Wait till we get down just to the
+north of the Philippine Islands, right in the China Sea; you’ll find it
+hot enough to boil eggs in a dipper on deck, and you won’t dare to go
+barefooted, for fear the hot tar will burn you up.”
+
+“I’ll agree with Hobson on that,” answered Luke Striker. “I once
+shipped to the Philippines, and we spent four weeks at Aparri, on the
+northeast coast of Luzon, the main island, and in Manila Bay, on the
+southwest coast, and, phew! but wasn’t it a corker! We were in Manila
+Bay right in August, and a man didn’t hardly dare to walk across the
+deck at midday for fear of getting sunstruck.”
+
+“If that’s true, then I don’t want much of Manila Bay,” laughed Larry;
+and then they resumed their work with all the energy that was left in
+them, for Captain Ponsberry had promised them a holiday at his expense
+if they finished up one day before the time set for sailing.
+
+On a Tuesday night the work came to an end, and hatches were closed
+with a will. The _Columbia_ was to sail at nine o’clock Thursday
+morning, so the crew would have all day Wednesday to themselves. What
+to do was solved by Captain Ponsberry, who hired a big stage and took
+all hands down to the dazzling white beach at Waikiki, but a few miles
+outside of Honolulu. Here there is the best of surf bathing, just
+inside of the reefs, with all the proper accommodations, and there is
+likewise a beautiful park, where the society of the seaport city takes
+its afternoon drives. Larry enjoyed a dip in the surf very much, having
+Striker with him, and the bath gave both a tremendous appetite for the
+seashore dinner, which Captain Ponsberry kind-heartedly provided at the
+casino nearby.
+
+“Good-by to Honolulu,” cried Larry, as the party started on its return.
+“Take it all in all, it’s a pretty place, and one might do much worse
+than to settle here for the remainder of one’s life. It won’t be a bad
+job done if the United States annexes the islands.”
+
+“Just what I say,” said Tom Grandon, who sat beside the boy. “Folks
+talk about the place being half-civilized and all that sort of thing,
+but they seem to forget that it’s more civilized than Texas and New
+Mexico were when we took hold of them, or Alaska.”
+
+That night was the first Larry spent on board of the _Columbia_, for
+he had removed his chest to the craft before starting on the day’s
+outing. To be sure, the forecastle of the schooner was dark and dingy,
+as forecastles usually are, but the apartment was clean and in order,
+and did not smell half so strongly of tar and oakum, tobacco and
+bilge-water, as other places like it of which he knew. Moreover, his
+berth was near to the door, so he was likely to get the full benefit of
+all cool and fresh air which was stirring.
+
+Hobson’s berth was next to Larry’s, with Luke Striker’s just opposite.
+Then came the berths of Cal Vincent, Maurice Roddmann, and several
+other sailors, for the _Columbia_ carried all the men she required. In
+the rear was the berth of the Norwegian, who was not to come on board
+until the last moment, on account of the sickness of one of his former
+messmates, so he had explained.
+
+Thursday dawned clear and bright, with a stiff breeze blowing from
+just the quarter Captain Ponsberry wanted it. The Rev. Martin Wells and
+two other passengers came aboard directly after breakfast, a score of
+friends with them to see them off. Larry had already informed Captain
+Morgan of the change he had made and bidden his former sailing-master
+good-by, and there was no one else to see.
+
+At nine o’clock sharp the lines were unloosed and Larry flew with the
+rest to set first one sail and then another. Everything was, of course,
+strange to the boy, for ships are not built alike, and he paid strict
+attention to business, feeling that the eyes of Captain Ponsberry and
+Tom Grandon must be on him. He heard Grandon speak to a newcomer, and
+knew it must be the belated Norwegian sailor, but did not just then
+catch sight of the man. If he had, there might have been a row then and
+there, and Larry’s future adventures would have had a vastly different
+cast.
+
+Only the jib and mainsail were set as the _Columbia_ crept down through
+the coral channel leading from Honolulu harbor to the mighty ocean
+beyond. The lighthouse was soon passed, and then the schooner pointed
+almost westward, passing Barber’s Point on her starboard, the last
+point of land to be sighted for many days to come. Once clear of the
+reefs, top and foresail went up, along with every other available
+stitch of canvas, and the _Columbia_ bowled along gayly, sending the
+spray flying in every direction.
+
+Previous to sailing, every rope and every inch of canvas had been
+thoroughly overhauled, while the _Columbia_ had been cleaned as neat
+as “my lady’s parlor,” to use Hobson’s words, so now there was little
+to do but to arrange matters in the forecastle, and once the Point had
+faded away in the blue-gray haze, Larry turned to what was to be his
+“house” during the voyage.
+
+Yet even here there was very little to occupy his mind. He had arranged
+his berth the night before. He pulled out his chest, unlocked it, and
+began to sort over and shake out his clothing, hanging on a nearby hook
+those for which he might have an early call.
+
+He was thus engaged when a shadow fell beside him, and a bulky form
+in the doorway shut out much of the light entering the forecastle. He
+looked up, expecting to see Striker or some one of the other sailors
+with whom he had become acquainted. But the newcomer was a stranger, a
+sour-looking, clean-shaven man of foreign birth.
+
+“Ah!” came in a rough voice, and Larry leaped to his feet. Then, as the
+newcomer came closer, the boy recognized him, in spite of the fact that
+he had shaved off his beard. It was Olan Oleson, the man who had robbed
+him.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER VIII
+
+                         AN UNWELCOME SHIPMATE
+
+
+“You!” gasped Larry. For the moment he could scarcely speak.
+
+For reply Olan Oleson stared at him in what was meant to be total
+surprise. But the Norwegian had seen and recognized Larry before, and
+now he was merely acting a part previously determined upon.
+
+“What are you doing here?” continued the youth, slamming the chest shut
+and shoving it out of sight.
+
+“I am a sailor here,” answered Oleson. “You sailor, too?” The last
+words with great innocence.
+
+“You’re a sailor here! Do you belong on the _Columbia_? I didn’t see
+you here before.”
+
+“I just come before we sail. My name Olan Oleson. What your name?”
+
+And the Norwegian held out his brown and dirty hand.
+
+“Why, you――you rascal!” burst from Larry’s lips. “You want me to shake
+hands? Don’t you think I know you, even if you have cut off your
+beard? You’re the man who robbed me. You think you got away from me
+mighty slick, the other night, don’t you? Well, I guess we’ll settle
+accounts now.”
+
+Olan Oleson drew a deep breath and stared hard at the boy. “What you
+talk about me robbin’ you?” he said. “I know notank about you. You say
+I rob you, I knock you down!” and he doubled up his big fists.
+
+His attitude was so fierce and menacing that he thought Larry would
+cower before him. But he was mistaken. The American lad was not thus
+easily daunted. Instead of taking a step backward, Larry took two
+forward.
+
+“This buncombe won’t work with me,” he said as coolly as he could,
+although he was much excited. “You are the thief, and I intend to
+expose you and get my money back.”
+
+“I no thief――I honest man. You say me a thief, I――I throw you into the
+sea. Boy, you tak a care, you hear? tak a care!” and Oleson grabbed
+Larry by the shoulder.
+
+At this juncture Luke Striker entered the forecastle, to stare in
+astonishment at the pair, for Oleson continued to hold Larry, while
+the latter sought to push his antagonist away.
+
+“Hullo, what’s the row?” queried Striker. “’Pears to me you two are
+gettin’ at it early-like.”
+
+“This man is the thief who robbed me at the Travellers’ Rest in
+Honolulu.”
+
+“The boy lie――I nefer see him before,” came from the Norwegian, and now
+he hurled Larry from him. “You speak lie of me again, I show you what I
+do!” and again his clenched fist came up.
+
+“He has shaved off his beard, but he is the man; I can swear to it,
+Striker. I wish I had seen him before we left Honolulu. I could bring
+witnesses and have him arrested.”
+
+“Wish you _had_ seen him in Honolulu, if your story is true,” returned
+the Yankee, who had taken to Larry and felt bound to side with him.
+“Captain Ponsberry won’t want no thief aboard this craft, not by a
+jugful!”
+
+“We go to de captain,” growled Olan Oleson. “The boy mak a mistak. I am
+honest man――maybe he a thief,” and he shook his head to emphasize his
+words.
+
+By this time Hobson and several others had entered behind Luke Striker,
+and a hubbub arose, as one and another began to question first Larry
+and then the Norwegian. Most of the sailors had heard the tale of the
+missing money before, and as between Larry’s open, honest face and
+Oleson’s sullen, crafty visage, it was plain to see whom they were
+inclined to believe.
+
+The discussion waxed so warm that Tom Grandon’s attention was
+attracted. He listened to both sides patiently, then brought the
+matter to a close by demanding that Larry and Oleson follow him to the
+Captain’s cabin.
+
+Captain Ponsberry was found in conversation with Rev. Martin Wells and
+his other passengers. He looked up in surprise at seeing his mate enter
+with two of the foremast hands.
+
+“This is a serious matter,” he said, after Grandon had explained the
+situation, while the missionary shook his head sorrowfully. “Russell,
+how do you know this is the man who robbed you?”
+
+“I know him by his voice and by his looks. He has shaved off his beard,
+but that doesn’t count with me.”
+
+“You saw him before you retired that night――I mean you talked to him?”
+
+“Yes, sir; for ten or fifteen minutes. He asked me about the _Rescue_
+and Captain Morgan, and if I knew where he might get a chance to
+ship――and he asked me if I had got my pay, too.”
+
+“And he is the man that you met at the band concert in Honolulu?”
+
+“Yes, sir, I am willing to take my affidavit on it.”
+
+“You had a quarrel there?”
+
+“We did. He knocked me down and ran away.”
+
+Olan Oleson had listened patiently. Now he raised both hands in
+protestation. “The boy tell a lie. I no the man――I an honest man,
+captain.” He touched his forelock. “If we no be on de ship, I knock him
+down for what he say. But I good sailor; I know sailor’s place.”
+
+“Yes, I won’t allow any fighting on board ship,” responded Captain
+Ponsberry, firmly. Then he rubbed his chin in perplexity. “But I hardly
+know what to say to this. It’s one man’s word against another’s, and
+there you are. Parson, what do you think in a case like this?”
+
+“Let us pray there is some mistake,” were the missionary’s words,
+although he, too, was inclined to side with Larry. “You know,” he added
+to the youth, “there are many cases on record of mistaken identity.”
+
+“How much he say he lose?” questioned Oleson.
+
+“I lost six dollars and a few cents,” returned Larry.
+
+The big Norwegian shrugged his shoulders. “I no be thief for seex
+dollars,” he murmured. “If de boy want money so much, he can have out
+of my wages when trip is done,” and he put on a look of disdain.
+
+“I only want my own,” cried Larry, the hot blood rushing into his face.
+“I’d not touch a cent of your dirty cash, you――you――” he broke off as
+the Rev. Martin Wells caught him gently by the arm. “I don’t care――he
+has no right to talk to me in that fashion,” he finished, in a lower
+tone.
+
+“The only thing to do is to let the matter drop right where it is,”
+said Captain Ponsberry, and spoke so decidedly that all felt he was
+laying down the law. “I am sorry that you lost your money, Russell,
+but you can see yourself you have no clear case against Oleson. Now,
+I won’t have any quarrelling on the _Columbia_, mind that, both of
+you. You can each think as you please, but don’t go for to put it into
+words. And remember, too, I expect each of you to do his full duty――not
+one to hold back, expecting the other to do the work. I’m tremendously
+sorry that there is any ill-feeling on this craft, especially so early
+in a long voyage, but it can’t be helped, and we’ll have to make the
+best of it. Now forward, both of you, and hearken well to what I have
+told you. Tom, tell the other hands how matters stand, and warn ’em
+against siding one way or the other in this little unpleasantness.”
+
+And so Larry and Oleson were dismissed, while the mate went forward
+with them to do as the captain had ordered. What Grandon had to say was
+listened to silently and with great interest, for a sailor thinks theft
+one of the greatest crimes in the calendar, as it really is.
+
+At first Larry was inclined to rebel at Captain Ponsberry’s decision,
+especially as he had counted upon the captain’s friendship. But when
+he cooled off and reviewed the situation carefully, he saw that the
+captain had done no more than what could be considered fair under the
+circumstances. “He is right; in the absence of other evidence, one
+man’s word is as good as another’s,” thought the boy. “I may as well
+let the matter drop,――it was only six dollars, after all. But I shall
+keep my eyes open for Olan Oleson in the future!”
+
+At first the others of the crew heeded Grandon’s warning not to take
+sides in the matter, but this rule was broken that night by Luke
+Striker as he and Larry were turning in, having been on the same watch
+together.
+
+“It ain’t for me to say much, Larry,” said the Yankee sailor. “But I
+like your way,――took to you when fust I clapped eyes on you,――and I’ll
+back your word up against that furiner every clip. If he tries any
+underhanded game on you, jest don’t hesitate to let Luke Striker know,
+and we’ll send him on the rocks in a jiffy. Now, promise me, will you?”
+
+And Larry promised with all his heart. He felt he had a true friend in
+the whole-souled Yankee sailor, but how much of a friend time was still
+to show.
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER IX
+
+                   A TALK ABOUT THE TROUBLES IN CUBA
+
+
+Hong Kong is due west from Honolulu, and the distance, in round
+figures, is five thousand miles, so it was quite true that Larry had a
+long voyage before him.
+
+Captain Ponsberry did not calculate to make the entire trip without
+stopping. In his almost direct course westward were to be found Wake
+Island and the Farallon de Pajaros, dividing the trip into fairly
+equal thirds, and it was calculated that the _Columbia_ would put into
+both places for fresh water, and possibly a bit of fresh meat and
+vegetables, for the kind-hearted captain saw no need of going without
+these comforts when they might be had with but little trouble.
+
+For over a week the weather proved all that could be desired. It was
+true that it was hot, but the stiff breeze was comforting, while it
+made the gallant _Columbia_ fully represent her name so far as build
+was concerned, for she readily “scooned” over the long swells of the
+rolling Pacific.
+
+There had been no occasion for Larry and Oleson to speak to one
+another, and thus far neither had uttered a word. As the days went by,
+Larry, naturally light-hearted, was inclined to forgive his enemy. But
+not so the burly Norwegian. Whenever the eyes of the two met, Oleson
+scowled ominously, and more than once Larry found himself shivering
+from some nameless dread, he could not tell what.
+
+“I’d give half a month’s salary if he wasn’t on board,” he said to Luke
+Striker, his one confidant. “If he keeps on looking at me like that,
+he’ll give me the nightmare.”
+
+“You look out for yourself whenever you’re on night watch with the
+furiner,” answered the Yankee tar. “If you don’t watch out――maybe an
+accident might happen, see?” and he closed one eye suggestively, and
+then Larry had another shiver.
+
+The looks finally became so threatening that Striker spoke to Oleson
+about them. “The boy is treating you square enough,” he said. “You just
+leave him alone, and we won’t have no trouble.”
+
+“I no touch the boy――no spak to him,” growled the Norwegian. “You let
+me alone, like captain say you should.”
+
+There the talk ended, and instead of anything being gained by it,
+matters were made worse, for Oleson became an enemy of Striker as well
+as of Larry. He no longer looked at either when their eyes were turned
+in his direction, yet they felt intuitively that he had them constantly
+in his mind.
+
+Taken at its best, life on a sailing-vessel on an extended trip is
+bound to grow more or less monotonous, and were it not for a number of
+reasons Larry would have found time growing dull on his hands, during
+the hours when there was absolutely nothing to do, and when he was too
+wide-awake to think of going to sleep, as many of his messmates did.
+
+But besides Striker, he had made a good friend of the Rev. Martin
+Wells, and the missionary was not above coming forward to chat with
+Larry and the others, and in addition to this he loaned the youth
+several books, which Larry devoured with keen relish,――histories and
+biographies, books which were rather dry when compared with what the
+boy had read when at home, but which did him far more good.
+
+As we know, Larry had been very much interested in the blowing up of
+the _Maine_. Before leaving Honolulu he had heard a later report than
+the first from the United States, by which it was stated that the
+Spanish authorities denied any knowledge of the explosion, and that
+the United States naval authorities were going to take matters in hand
+immediately by appointing a Board of Inquiry to fix the responsibility.
+
+“This Cuban matter is something of a mystery to me,” he said to the
+missionary one day, after the blowing up of the battleship had been
+discussed. “What is the real trouble down there; can you tell me?”
+
+“I can tell you something, Lawrence, if not everything,” replied Mr.
+Wells; “but in order to get at a proper understanding of the case I’ll
+have to go pretty well back into history.”
+
+“I won’t mind that, sir, so long as I’ve got the time to listen.”
+
+The two were seated under the shadow of one of the small boats, and
+after a second of thought the missionary began:――
+
+“The story of Cuba from the very start has been one of persecution
+and intense suffering――persecution so terrible that it can hardly be
+believed, and suffering in many cases beyond endurance.
+
+“When Columbus discovered the New World, there were but two powers,
+Spain and Portugal, that disputed for the possession of the new
+territories, which embraced not only the West Indies, but also a large
+portion of the southern part of North America, and the northern and
+eastern portions of South America. The dispute was referred to the
+Pope, as head of the states, and he granted to Portugal that part of
+South America which is now Brazil and gave to Spain all the rest.
+
+“Such a vast and valuable possession could not be left alone long,
+especially as it was known to be inhabited only by savages, and was
+suspected to be rich in minerals, and before long Spain sent out
+numerous colonies, commanded by her own noblemen, to conquer the whole
+of the West Indies, including Hayti, San Domingo, Jamaica, and Porto
+Rico, as well as Cuba, the largest of all the islands, and the richest.
+
+“When the Spanish colonists arrived they found the islands settled by
+peaceful Indians and Caribs. Without delay they set about conquering
+these people, and this done, they made slaves of the Caribs and also
+of the Indians, when they could catch them, which was not often, for
+the Indians would take to the water rather than risk capture. To the
+Caribs were added slaves from Africa, and all these poor people were
+treated so shamefully that the Caribs died off like sheep, and even
+the Africans could not stand it. The one thought of the Spaniards was
+to make money, and they cared nothing for their slaves’ bodies though
+professing a desire to save their souls.”
+
+“It’s a wonder they didn’t rebel?”
+
+“They did rebel, but they had no arms and were unskilled in warfare,
+and each time they were put down with greater cruelty. Old writers have
+left us many accounts of those fearful times,――accounts the reading of
+which makes one’s heart ache.”
+
+“But now Spain doesn’t own all of the islands, nor any of North
+America?”
+
+“She owns nothing now but Cuba and Porto Rico, and a few small places
+of no importance. Her cruelty and rapacity has had its reward. The
+gold and silver and other riches sent by noblemen from the islands to
+Spain lured the buccaneers of the world to that locality, and many were
+the ships which were taken and plundered. Then other nations heard of
+the wealth which was there, and of the great cruelty, and took upon
+themselves the task of setting matters right. The least interference
+enraged the Spaniards, and numerous fights followed, and in the end,
+as I have stated, Spain was stripped of nearly everything. And she has
+lost more than I spoke of before, too, for she once controlled Mexico,
+Texas, and what is now New Mexico, California, and Nevada.”
+
+“But what has brought about this present trouble?”
+
+“I am coming to that. As years went by, the colonists in Cuba and other
+islands increased, until the home government had a new element to deal
+with, for slavery was now a thing of the past. These colonists became
+tired of paying their heavy taxes to the mother country, especially
+as they derived no benefits, and so other rebellions broke out, until
+Cuba was in a state of perpetual war. The hand of Spain was an iron
+one, however, and could not be shaken off. The colonists were allowed
+nothing, not even to run their own internal affairs, for every office
+was filled from Spain, and the taxes became heavier and heavier.
+
+“At last, about three years ago, the Cubans, or a large portion of
+them, resolved to stand it no longer. They withdrew from Havana and
+some of the other large cities, and set about establishing a government
+of their own. They formed an army, the watchword of which was ‘Cuba
+Libre!’ meaning Free Cuba, and swore to hold no communication with the
+Spanish authorities until their freedom was acknowledged.”
+
+“Yes, I’ve heard of that, and how they have been fighting the Spanish
+soldiery ever since. But still I don’t see where _we_ come in,” said
+Larry, earnestly.
+
+“Don’t be impatient, Lawrence, and you will see. Yes, the Cubans have
+been fighting for three years with varying success. They were poorly
+equipped and scarcely organized, and the most they could do was to
+stick to the forests and mountains, and wage a sort of guerilla warfare
+against the trained regiments from Spain sent over to annihilate them.
+As the situation now stands, the Spanish hold all of the large towns
+and the seacoast, while the insurgents, as they are called, hold the
+interior and many small villages.
+
+“Of course such a condition of affairs so close to the United States
+could not help but arouse sympathy for those who had been so illy
+treated, and expeditions were sent out secretly to help the rebels;
+but this was against international law, and Spain promptly called
+upon the United States government to put down the practice. Then the
+insurgents, through their Junta, or representatives in our country,
+asked for recognition before the world, so that they might be free
+to use the ports of the United States and do many other things they
+otherwise could not do, but recognition has not yet been obtained,
+although it is being considered by Congress.
+
+“But now comes another view of the present situation, and this is
+worse than the fighting that is going on. Under the guise of wishing
+to protect the weak and helpless in the country and in villages,
+the Spanish authorities in Cuba have been driving all of the women,
+children, and old men into the big cities and holding them there. The
+young and middle-aged men, of course, cannot be thus driven, for they
+are in the ranks of the insurgents. But when the women and children and
+old men get into the cities there is nothing for them to do, and, as
+most of them are poor, they are actually compelled to starve, unless
+some kind-hearted soul will feed them.”
+
+“If that’s the case, we ought to help the poor people, war or no war!”
+cried Larry, heartily.
+
+“That thought is exactly the thought of those who have lately taken
+hold, to send supplies to Cuba and to aid in every way possible the
+poor, sick, and dying. Up to date several hundreds of thousands of the
+poor people have died from exposure and the want of nourishment, and
+the whole Christian nation is crying out that such inhumanity must
+cease. But Spain wants no one to interfere, stating that to give succor
+to the rebels will only prolong the disturbance which she will soon
+end.”
+
+“Never mind; we ought to help, whether Spain likes it or not, that is
+my idea of it, Mr. Wells.”
+
+“The efforts of the Americans in Havana and elsewhere have stirred up
+much bad blood, and it was to protect those Americans that the _Maine_
+was sent into Havana harbor. Now that the _Maine_ has met with such
+a sad fate I presume the feeling upon both sides is more bitter than
+ever. I should not be surprised to hear of a riot in Havana, in which
+many Americans might be slain.”
+
+“But if that court of inquiry finds that the _Maine_ was blown up by
+some Spanish agents, won’t that mean war?” concluded Larry, as a
+shrill pipe from the boatswain’s whistle caused him to arise.
+
+“It will mean another step in the direction of war,” was the grave
+response.
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER X
+
+                          ATTACKED IN A STORM
+
+
+“Come, boys, tumble up lively now, unless you want to spend the
+next week in sail-sewing!” cried Cal Vincent, the boatswain of the
+_Columbia_. “There’s a storm a-brewing, and the old man reckons as how
+it will be best to take in a little sail to onct!”
+
+While listening to the interesting talk of the missionary, Larry had
+noticed the sky growing darker, and he leaped up with alacrity, for he
+remembered that it was the neglect to shorten sail in time on board of
+the _Rescue_ which had caused the bark to strain and open some of her
+seams. Besides, if there was one thing he detested on shipboard, it was
+to sit down with a heavy sailor’s needle and assist at sail-mending.
+
+“I don’t reckon it’s going to be much, but still one can’t allers
+tell,” remarked Luke Striker, as he came tumbling out of his berth,
+where he had been dozing upon that hot afternoon and dreaming of his
+far-away down-east home. He had spent many years on the ocean, yet that
+spot of his boyhood was as dear to him as ever.
+
+Captain Ponsberry himself was on deck, giving orders at the top of
+his voice, and everybody was scurrying here and there, for orders to
+shorten sail are always obeyed quicker than any others on shipboard,
+the reason for which is obvious.
+
+“Lay aloft there now, men, and don’t stop to think about it,” cried the
+captain. “Come now, Hobson, show your heels up those ratlines, and,
+Oleson, don’t move as though you had chunks of lead in your boots.
+See, Russell is ahead of all of you, and he’s but a boy. Now then, all
+ready?”
+
+“All ready, sir,” came from various quarters.
+
+And then came a rapid succession of orders, each followed by a creaking
+of halyard blocks, as the topsails came down, followed by the jib and
+flying-jib. The fore-course, main-course, and mizzen-course were left
+standing, but the men were kept on deck, to reef or take in entirely,
+should it become necessary to do so.
+
+Oleson had followed Larry up to the foretop, with an extra sour look
+upon his swarthy face, for he did not like the remark the captain had
+cast at him, nor the compliment paid to the boy. “Get ofer dare!” he
+growled, pushing up against Larry. “You want all de room to yourself.
+How I tak in sail if you under my feet?”
+
+“You’ve got as much room as I have,” answered Larry, firmly. “Keep your
+distance,” he added, as Oleson continued to crowd him. “Mind now what I
+say!”
+
+To this the Norwegian made some uncomplimentary answer, which was,
+however, swallowed up in the noise of the flapping sail as it came down
+on the run.
+
+The _Columbia_ was rolling and pitching upon the heavy swells under
+her, and Larry found it no easy task to keep his balance as he helped
+furl and fasten. It was blowing lively, too, and the wind whistled
+almost a gale into his ears.
+
+Again Olan Oleson crowded him, until there was but little left to
+stand upon. The boy shouted another warning, but the Norwegian paid no
+attention.
+
+Suddenly a fearful dread took possession of the lad. Olan Oleson meant
+to shove him over into the sea.
+
+“Keep your distance!” he cried, at the top of his lungs. “Keep your
+distance. Below there! help!”
+
+“You be still!” growled the Norwegian. “I no hurt you. You go――”
+
+A gust of wind swallowed up the words which followed. Again the
+_Columbia_ went over, caught short in the swell under her. The topmast
+dipped thirty feet or more to leeward, and Larry made a tight clutch on
+the cross-tree, only to find himself shoved rudely off.
+
+His right hand held the gasket he had been tying up, and that was all.
+Over rolled the ship again, and now his body swung clear into the air,
+supported only by that slender, plaited rope, which was old and not
+above snapping without warning. Beneath him was the churning sea, above
+him the slender topmast and the dark and angry sky. He shuddered and
+was tempted to close his eyes, but could not.
+
+“You let go!” came from Olan Oleson, and he caught hold of the gasket
+as if to shake Larry from it.
+
+“Don’t!” gasped the boy. “Oh, you villain! don’t!”
+
+[Illustration: DON’T! GASPED THE BOY. OH, YOU VILLAIN! DON’T!]
+
+He continued to cling fast despite the fact that Olan Oleson’s hand
+was over his own, pressing the knuckles to make the fingers relax and
+slip. But now the _Columbia_ swung over to the other side, and he felt
+his feet touch the rigging below. The gasket slipped; but legs and
+arms were on the alert, and in a second more he found himself safe,
+on a level with Olan Oleson’s feet. Fearing a kick, he lost no time
+in descending still further, until, finding himself at Luke Striker’s
+side, he deemed himself comparatively safe.
+
+The storm had evidently reached its height, and as the _Columbia_
+carried her lower sails well, there was nothing for the sailors to do
+but to stand around and wait until the wind should either increase or
+decrease. The spray was flying everywhere, and Larry followed Striker
+into the forecastle for his oilskin coat.
+
+“’Pears to me I heard somebody cry for help when I was aloft,” remarked
+the Yankee sailor. “Must have been the wind, but it did sound very much
+like a human voice.”
+
+“It was a human voice,” answered Larry. “I yelled just as loud as I
+could.”
+
+“And what for? Were you afraid of falling?”
+
+“I was afraid of being pushed off.”
+
+“Gee shoo!” Striker stared at the lad a second. “Say, that furiner was
+up there with ye? Did he try――”
+
+“Yes, he did. If I hadn’t clung fast for all I was worth, and dropped
+to the lower cross-tree when I got the chance, I would at this minute
+be out on the ocean a mile astern,” and Larry shuddered.
+
+“The Norwegian ought to be put into irons! Why don’t you go to the old
+man and report?”
+
+“What good would it do? It would only be another case of my word
+against Oleson’s, for of course the fellow would deny everything.”
+
+“Yes, but have you got to stand this a-havin’ a chap around as is
+achin’ to do sech a dirty trick as that? I don’t think you have, not by
+a jugful!”
+
+“I certainly wish Oleson hadn’t shipped on the _Columbia_. If it wasn’t
+for him, this trip would just suit me, for every one of the others is a
+good messmate,” responded Larry.
+
+He had procured his oilskin and was putting it on, when there was a
+heavy tramping near the doorway, and Olan Oleson came in. He was about
+to withdraw upon seeing the boy and his companion, but with a quick
+leap, Luke Striker caught him by the arm and pulled him inside.
+
+“You good-fer-nuthin’ rascal!” he cried, catching the Norwegian by the
+collar and running him up against a back berth. “What right have you
+to attack this boy up in the top, eh? You jess let that lad alone or
+I’ll――I’ll wipe up the deck with ye, by the jumpin’ Christopher I will!”
+
+And he shook the burly sailor until the man’s teeth fairly rattled.
+Striker was not as tall as Oleson by several inches, and his weight
+was considerably less, but his muscles were tough and his bravery
+unequalled, and there was nothing he would not tackle when aroused. In
+vain the Norwegian struggled; that grip could not be broken.
+
+“You let go me!” spluttered the swarthy fellow. “You let go! I no mak
+quarrel with you. Let go, or I tell captain.”
+
+“Tell the captain, and that’s all the good it will do you. He won’t
+allow sech a rascal as you aboard one minit longer nor he can help, and
+I know it. Tell him, and take that! and that! and that!”
+
+Each “that” was followed by a bump of Oleson’s head upon the edge of
+the berth, blows hard enough to crack an ordinary man’s skull. After
+the last bump Striker threw the man to one side, motioned to Larry, and
+both walked outside.
+
+“Maybe that will teach him a lesson,” muttered the Yankee sailor. “Hang
+those furiners, anyhow!”
+
+“You have made an enemy of him for life, Luke,” returned the boy.
+“Hereafter he’ll try to do as bad by you as he has tried to do by me.”
+
+“Let him; we’ll both be on our guard. But don’t you go aloft with him
+again.”
+
+“I won’t.”
+
+“And on second thought I don’t know but what it will be jest as well
+not to speak to Captain Ponsberry about it. Let Oleson see that we can
+take care of ourselves, and he’ll have more respect for us.”
+
+They were now called upon to shorten sail still more, and consequently
+the conversation had to come to an end. While taking in the fore-course
+and the mizzen-course Oleson came out to assist, but did not look at
+either of them.
+
+Although it blew strongly all night, the storm was but an ordinary one,
+and by sunrise the next day the wind had fallen sufficiently to allow
+the _Columbia_ to proceed upon her way again under full sail. Olan
+Oleson kept his distance, nor did he even look at Larry or Striker.
+“He’s learned his lesson,” said the Yankee tar, but how grievously he
+was mistaken the chapters which follow will show.
+
+They were now reaching the vicinity of Wake Island, and a constant
+lookout was kept, that they might not pass the spot, which is
+low-lying, rather barren, and of small territory. Larry was up in the
+cross-trees one afternoon, when he saw the island far to the north of
+the _Columbia_.
+
+“Land O!” he sang out, and the cry soon rang through the ship, speedily
+bringing the captain, Mr. Wells, and everybody else on deck.
+
+“Where away?”
+
+“On our starboard quarter, captain. I can just see a bit of rocks and
+trees.”
+
+A marine glass was brought into use, and after a brief survey Captain
+Ponsberry decided that it was Wake Island. The course of the _Columbia_
+was immediately changed, and an hour later they were moving slowly into
+a small but safe harbor, surrounded by coral reefs upon which the sea
+pounded incessantly.
+
+Larry had expected Wake Island to be a spot where a fine run ashore
+might be indulged in, and was somewhat surprised and disappointed to
+find the place so barren. However, there was a good spring close at
+hand, and as they wanted fresh water more than anything else there was
+little over which to grumble. A whole day was spent in filling the
+_Columbia’s_ water-casks, and then off they sailed again, bound as
+before, due west.
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER XI
+
+                       A RACE AND AN INTERRUPTION
+
+
+The days and the weeks passed, and the gallant _Columbia_ kept steadily
+upon her course. They had now passed longitude 150° east of Greenwich,
+and were but a short distance north of the Ladrones, while the Farallon
+de Pajaros, Captain Ponsberry calculated, would be sighted within the
+next forty-eight hours, providing the wind did not fall.
+
+The _Columbia_, up to this time, had been making a quick passage, but
+now, with the going down of that heavy and hot sun, the wind died out
+utterly, and on the following day the sails flapped idly against the
+masts, and everything came to a standstill.
+
+“We are in for a calm now,” remarked Striker. “I knowed we was bound to
+come next to it sooner or later.”
+
+“Never mind,” replied Larry, ever ready to look upon the cheerful side.
+“When it does blow, it will come so much the stronger.”
+
+“Yes, and then we’ll run the risk of having a mast taken out,” grumbled
+Hobson, who could endure almost anything but standing still. “Give me a
+good steady breeze every trip.”
+
+The men hung around here and there, or lay in the coolest spots they
+could find, dozing or sleeping. The only sound that broke the stillness
+was the voice of Jeff, as he prepared meals and sang his plantation
+melodies. He had one song in particular, relating the mishaps of “My
+Gal Susannah!” which he seemed to be never weary of repeating. The
+darky was the only one satisfied to let the calm take care of itself.
+
+Olan Oleson had kept his distance, and it really began to look as
+though the lesson Striker had given the fellow had done some good. But
+the burly Norwegian had not forgotten, for such was not his nature.
+Secretly he was plotting to strike both Larry and his Yankee friend a
+most dastardly blow.
+
+Striker sat in front of the forecastle, his legs under him, in the
+fashion of a tailor. He had a score of bits of wood about him, and
+was engaged in whittling out the model of a boat with his jack-knife.
+Not far away rested Larry, a big book on his lap, which the boy was
+reading with great eagerness. The book was entitled “Naval Heroes of
+History,” and contained accounts of the stirring battles fought by
+Nelson, Perry, Jones, and other celebrities. The Rev. Martin Wells had
+loaned him the volume, and he was reading aloud to Striker.
+
+“My, but I wish I had been there!” he cried, as he finished the account
+of the famous fight between the _Serapis_ and the _Bonhomme Richard_.
+“How proud Paul Jones must have felt at that victory. And at such close
+quarters!”
+
+“We’ll have no such fighting any more,” answered Luke Striker. “The old
+wooden vessels are gone, and with ships built of steel, and armed with
+guns that can hit the enemy six or seven miles off, it’s not likely
+there will be any hand-to-hand, rough and tumble work. It’s reduced to
+a science, as the parson would call it.”
+
+“Nelson’s victory at Trafalgar was the greatest victory known to naval
+history,” put in Hobson, who had come up in time to hear the talk. “No,
+I don’t say it because I’m an Englishman, but because it’s a fact. He
+had a splendid fleet of ships, it is true, but he had the combined
+fleets of France and Spain against him, and the way he went at them
+and smashed them up from the very start of the fight is something for
+every sailor to remember as long as the world goes round. The only bad
+thing about it was that he was shot down in the very thick of it and
+killed.”
+
+“Yes, this book tells about that, and how England has honored Nelson,
+too,” said Larry. “And such a man deserves to be honored.”
+
+“There ain’t no telling how our modern battleships are going to pull
+through in a fight,” said Striker. “Although England and America and
+France and Germany and Spain and some of the other countries have ’em,
+they ain’t been put into active use. I’ve been told the Chinese and
+Japanese used some of ’em during their late war, but them heathens
+don’t count――not alongside o’ Anglo-Saxon blood; eh, Hobson?”
+
+“I grant you that, every time, Striker,――Anglo-Saxon blood every
+trip,――against the world,” cried the Englishman, heartily. “Now you
+take it among ourselves,” he went on, after a pause. “The Americans and
+English and Germans, and even the French, can get along together; but
+put a Spaniard or a Portuguese or an Italian, or one of that kind of
+fellows aboard and there’s trouble right away――I’ve seen it a hundred
+times.”
+
+“You might add the Norwegians to the off crowd,” put in Larry, glancing
+to where Olan Oleson sat sullenly chewing his quid of plug-cut.
+
+Hobson laughed and tossed his head. “I would willingly if they were all
+like yonder chap. But they are not――I’ve known Norwegians as fair and
+square as any of us.”
+
+“We’ll let him alone, so long as he lets us alone,” rejoined Striker.
+“What’s up, Cal?” he added, as the boatswain approached.
+
+“The captain says as how if any of you want to take a swim now is your
+chance,” said the boatswain of the _Columbia_. “We’ll put the jollyboat
+out and lower the sails, and them as wants to can stay out till
+sundown.”
+
+“Hurrah!” cried Larry, closing his book and springing up. “A swim will
+just suit me. Come on, Striker, and let’s get at the sails at once.”
+
+The majority of the crew were willing to do anything to break the
+monotony, and soon the sails were furled and the yawl swung over and
+allowed to drift astern, with a couple of pairs of oars placed athwart
+the seats, in case it should prove necessary to row out to anybody
+seized with a cramp. There were a number of old bathing-suits aboard,
+and soon Larry had donned one of these.
+
+“Here goes!” he cried, rushing to the rail. For a moment he stood
+erect, his hands over his head. Then with a graceful curve he went
+down, cutting the water like a knife, and disappearing with hardly
+a splash beneath the bluish-green surface. A few seconds later Luke
+Striker followed, and then came half a dozen others in a bunch,
+shrieking, laughing and sporting like so many overgrown boys; for when
+your true sailor is out for a lark, he never thinks of his age, no
+matter how old he may be.
+
+The water was warm and refreshing, and never had Larry enjoyed a swim
+more. He dived half a dozen times, from the yawl, and then challenged
+Striker to a race around the _Columbia_, which lay nearly stationary in
+the swells of the ocean.
+
+“All right, I’ll beat ye out of your butes!” cried the Yankee, and
+splash! splash! both left the yawl at the same instant, and the race
+began. Captain Ponsberry, standing at the stern, saw what was going on
+and shouted in approval.
+
+“Go on, both of ye!” he cried. “A prize to the fellow as wins! Striker,
+the boy will beat ye unless you use your long arms better than that.
+Now then, both do your level best, and remember to swim clear o’ the
+bow!”
+
+“It’s Striker’s race,” cried the boatswain, who was also in the water.
+“It stands to reason the man will win.”
+
+“I’ll wager you a plug of tobacco the boy comes out ahead,” answered
+Hobson. “See what a splendid stroke he’s making――I never saw a better,
+even on the Thames!”
+
+“Let us follow!” cried another, and this all did, but keeping at a safe
+distance, so as not to interfere with the racers. Mr. Wells had come
+upon deck and was as much interested as anybody. He shouted loudly to
+Larry, and the boy heard him, looked up a brief instant, and smiled.
+
+For the first quarter of the distance Larry took the lead and kept it.
+His stroke was not so long as that of Striker, but it was quicker, and
+he was, moreover, using his feet to the best possible advantage. But
+now, as the pair neared the bow of the _Columbia_, the Yankee sailor
+began to pull up.
+
+“I’m a-comin’, lad!” he puffed. “It’s a pity I’ve got to beat ye, but
+it can’t be helped――I can’t afford to lose my reputation as a swimmer
+among the boys.”
+
+“I’m not beaten yet, and I don’t mean to be,” laughed Larry, “and I’m
+not going to lose my wind talking,” he added, and became silent.
+
+On and on they went, each riding lightly over swell after swell, until
+the bow was gained. Heeding the captain’s warning, Larry gave it a
+berth of several feet, and Striker did the same. But the man was now
+close at hand, and a few additional strokes put him several feet in
+advance.
+
+“Striker’s ahead!”
+
+“Go it, Larry; don’t let him beat you!”
+
+“The best man wins, and it’s a new pair of pants he gets as a reward!”
+cried Captain Ponsberry, and held up the garment mentioned――a pair
+picked up on the ship many months before with no owner coming forward
+to claim them. “I think they’ll most fit ye, Larry, so put in your best
+licks for ’em!”
+
+“Stretch ’em out to fit me, cap’n!” cried Striker, “for they’ll be mine
+when this race is over; stretch ’em out!” And a laugh went up at the
+Yankee’s words.
+
+The lank sailor was now two yards ahead, and the yawl was less than
+thirty yards off. In vain Larry tried to increase his stroke, the
+distance between him and his opponent remained the same.
+
+“Go it, Larry, go!” cried Hobson. “Give me your foot, and I’ll give you
+a shove!”
+
+“Hi! hi! no foul play back there!” roared Striker. “This race is to
+be won on its merits. Now, then, for the wind up!” and he renewed his
+efforts.
+
+But he was almost winded, for the race had been a stiff one from the
+start, and he was not used to exerting himself in the water. On the
+other hand, Larry was still fresh, and had taken part in several
+swimming matches before. The boy renewed his efforts to overtake his
+opponent, and now, as the yawl drew closer, he slowly but surely crept
+up.
+
+“See, see! Russell is gaining!” cried Tom Grandon, from the taffrail.
+
+“He’ll win out, after all!” echoed the Rev. Martin Wells, who was quite
+excited. The race made him think of his college days, ten years gone by.
+
+On and on the pair in the water continued to go, until the yawl, rising
+and falling with the swell, was less than fifteen feet away. Striker
+was still a yard ahead and pushing forward like a blown porpoise. Larry
+continued to diminish the distance between them.
+
+“Hurry up, Larry, and you’ll make it yet!” cried Grandon.
+
+And Larry did hurry, putting forth every ounce of muscle that remained.
+His head was now up to Striker’s knees, and now he made a last
+desperate plunge and drew up alongside of the Yankee. A yell arose on
+every side.
+
+“They are even!”
+
+“Go it, both of you!”
+
+And go it they did; but Striker was doing his best, and Larry also, and
+neither could increase his speed. Up they shot to the yawl, and two
+hands went up to the gunwale simultaneously.
+
+“It’s a tie!”
+
+“Both have won!”
+
+“That’s the best race I’ve seen in a good――”
+
+Bang! crash! the words of the last speaker were drowned in a noise as
+unexpected as it was dismaying. The yawl was seen to rise in the air,
+which was instantly filled with flying splinters, and Larry and Striker
+disappeared like a flash from view.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER XII
+
+                        THE CAPTURE OF A SAWFISH
+
+
+“A sawfish, sure as you’re born!”
+
+It was Tom Grandon who uttered the cry, and as the words left his lips,
+he pointed excitedly to the rear of the yawl, through which was thrust
+a dark, bony substance very much resembling the blade of a double
+whip-saw. Back of the yawl a big fish was floundering,――the sawfish
+itself,――churning the water into a white foam.
+
+“Russell! Striker! where are they?” shouted Captain Ponsberry, and then
+turning, he darted towards his cabin, to bring up a harpoon hanging
+upon the hooks below.
+
+“A sawfish! A shark!” yelled those who had been following the racers;
+and at once there was a wild scramble to gain the side of the
+_Columbia_. Ropes were thrown over by Tom Grandon and several others,
+and the men lost no time in clambering up to the deck. Then came a rush
+to the taffrail.
+
+All this while the sawfish was doing its best to extricate its saw from
+the wreck of the boat. This was not easy, and the splinters continued
+to fly in all directions, while the flying spray reached even to those
+who watched the struggle. The fish was at least eight feet long, while
+the saw was a yard more, and it looked as if the yawl would be pounded
+and cut into bits before the conflict came to an end.
+
+“Where in the world are Larry and Striker?” cried Hobson. “They can’t
+be tangled up under that fish, can they?”
+
+“God forbid!” murmured the Rev. Martin Wells. “Yet I see nothing of
+them,” he added sorrowfully.
+
+Captain Ponsberry now reappeared, harpoon in hand. In years gone by the
+captain had been a whaler, and the harpoon was one with which he had
+struck many a monster of the deep. A light line was attached to it,
+which he rapidly uncoiled.
+
+“Now, then, make room, and I’ll give the rascal a taste of this!” cried
+the master of the _Columbia_; and standing on the taffrail, he took
+careful aim and let drive. There was a short whiz; the harpoon was seen
+to pierce the sawfish’s side, and instantly the struggles grew more
+violent, while the sea was dyed a deep crimson.
+
+“Good! he’s struck!” cried several of the crew. “Shall we haul him in,
+captain?”
+
+“No; hold the line, that’s enough――he’s not dead yet, and we don’t want
+him to smash anything more,” was the answer. “Ah, he’s free of the yawl
+now! There he goes! Hold hard, all of you, or he’ll pull you overboard!”
+
+The men held “hard” as ordered, and the sawfish left the stern of the
+_Columbia_ only to dart forward towards the bow. Then it went back and
+forth, hitting the line with its saw, but failing to break it. But the
+movements grew weaker and weaker, and at last ceased utterly, and then
+the great fish turned over on its back, and the fight was over.
+
+“He’s dead,” muttered Tom Grandon. “But where are Russell and Striker?”
+
+“Perhaps the sawfish struck ’em and killed ’em,” suggested the
+boatswain.
+
+As he spoke he caught sight of Olan Oleson, who had not gone swimming,
+but had continued to chew his quid in sullen silence. An evil smile
+of satisfaction lit up the Norwegian’s face, much to Cal Vincent’s
+disgust. “He wouldn’t like anything better than to see poor Striker
+and the boy sent to Davy Jones’ locker,” he muttered.
+
+And now let us find out what really had become of Larry and his friend.
+As has been told, the hands of both went up to the gunwale of the yawl
+simultaneously; then came the shock and the flying splinters, and Larry
+felt himself drawn under, his feet caught in the curl of something cold
+and slippery.
+
+“A shark――I am lost!” was his agonizing thought, and he bumped up
+against Striker. The tail of the sawfish slapped first one and then the
+other, and it was a fortunate thing that the creature had its saw fast
+in the boat, otherwise one of them might have been killed.
+
+Larry was now out of breath, yet he kept his mouth closed, knowing
+that if he swallowed any of the ocean’s brine his senses would surely
+forsake him and he would be drowned. He felt for Striker, who also felt
+for the lad, and each clutched the other by the arm.
+
+It was at this juncture that Captain Ponsberry came on the scene with
+the harpoon, and the sawfish was struck just as Larry and Striker
+managed to get their feet against the yawl’s bottom and send themselves
+several yards off, although deeper below the surface than ever.
+Instinctively both struck out, and a distance equal to that already
+from the enemy was covered ere either dared to come up, to get a breath
+of much-needed air.
+
+“Are you safe?” was Striker’s first question, and seeing that Larry
+was, he continued, “What was it?”
+
+“I――I――don’t know!” gasped the boy. “It’s pretty big, whatever it is.
+Oh, see, they have a line attached to it and are hauling it round to
+the starboard!”
+
+They had floated to the port side of the _Columbia_, and now swam as
+rapidly for the ship as their exhausted condition would permit.
+
+“On deck there! Throw us a line, if ye want us aboard!” piped up
+Striker.
+
+“Gee shoo! it’s the boys!” ejaculated Tom Grandon, and a rush was made
+by those who were not holding the sawfish. Several lines were cast
+overboard, and in a twinkle Larry and the tall Yankee were once more
+safe on board.
+
+“God be praised for His mercies!” murmured Mr. Wells, as he helped
+Larry over the rail and noticed how weak the lad was. “You have had a
+narrow escape, Lawrence, and you, too, Striker.”
+
+“I guess it was narrow!” returned the boy, as he wiped the water from
+his eyes. “But what is it?”
+
+“A sawfish, and a big one, too, according to Captain Ponsberry.”
+
+“I was afraid it was a shark,” put in Striker. “Phew! the way he hit
+the jolly-boat was a caution! I’m afraid the boat is about done for.”
+
+But he was mistaken. During the week following, the boatswain, who was
+also the ship’s carpenter, put several new planks and ribs into the
+yawl, as well as tarred and calked her, and then the small craft was as
+good as ever.
+
+It was no small task to get the sawfish on board, yet by means of loops
+around the head and tail, made of strong ropes, it was accomplished,
+and the creature was laid out on the deck for the inspection of
+passengers and crew alike. The body was long and thin, and of a gray
+and white color, ending in a double fan-shaped tail. The saw, so
+styled, was a horny protrusion extending from the snout of the fish,
+several inches in diameter, and furnished along its length with long
+but somewhat blunt teeth, the teeth being quite close together near the
+point. It was not a fierce fish to look at, neither was it a handsome
+creature.
+
+“He goes pretty well armed,” remarked the missionary, as he looked the
+fish over with much interest.
+
+“You’d think so if you’d see him attack a whale, as I’ve seen,” replied
+Captain Ponsberry. “He makes a dive and a swish! and the first thing
+the whale knows he’s got that saw right through his belly, and then
+the chances are he’ll lose all interest in living; for if the first
+strike don’t kill, the sawfish will be off before the whale can strike
+back, and he’ll come on again, and there will be another ripping time.
+He’s a fearful fighter, for all of his meek looks. When he gets into a
+school of small fish, he strikes out right and left with that saw, and
+after it’s all over there will be dead fish everywhere. I once heard
+a learned professor say he was first cousin to the shark, and second
+cousin to the skate, a kind o’ binding link betwixt the two.”
+
+“Is he good to eat?” questioned another of the passengers.
+
+“Every fish is good to eat――if you like the taste of the meat,”
+returned the captain, sagely. “As for me, I don’t want any sawfish
+steaks, although I have tried ’em.”
+
+“I’m sure I don’t want anything to eat from him,” half whispered Larry,
+at which Striker laughed.
+
+“Won’t you now, Larry? Now that ain’t me―― I’d much rather eat my enemy
+nor have my enemy eat me; hang me if I wouldn’t!”
+
+Yet, later on, when Jeff came along to get some of the sawfish’s meat
+to bake over the galley fire, he was told nobody wanted any, and after
+preserving the saw, Captain Ponsberry had the body hove overboard.
+
+Larry was tired out by the swimming race and by the adventure with
+the sawfish, and he was glad enough, after examining the fish, to lie
+down in his berth and take a rest and, later on, a good night’s sleep.
+Striker also slept soundly, and when early in the morning a breeze
+sprang up and the sails were hoisted, Captain Ponsberry gave orders not
+to disturb them, but to let the others do the necessary work.
+
+“They’ve earned the rest, poor chaps,” he said, “so let ’em have it.”
+
+The prediction that an island of the Farallon de Pajaros group would
+be sighted inside of two days was fulfilled. At noon on the second day
+Captain Ponsberry, sweeping the northwestern horizon with his glass,
+sighted a long, low shore backed up by a hill of rocks, and at once had
+the course of the _Columbia_ changed to that direction. The island
+kept growing larger and larger, and before sunset they came close up to
+it, and the yawl put out to find a safe entrance to what looked like
+a secure harbor. The coral reefs were numerous, but after an hour’s
+soundings Tom Grandon found a safe channel, and the _Columbia_ swept in
+and came to an anchor.
+
+“What a sweet smell!” were Larry’s first words, as he stood at the
+rail, gazing at the shore, overgrown with brush, with here and there a
+stately cocoanut or other palm tree. “I wonder what it is.”
+
+“That is cinnamon you smell,” answered Mr. Wells. “You must know that
+we are now approaching those islands which grow the larger part of
+the spices which are used throughout the world. Oceanica, as these
+islands are termed taken together, produces cinnamon, pepper, nutmeg,
+and numerous other spices. As a rule the cinnamon comes from Ceylon,
+but single trees of that variety are to be found elsewhere, as in the
+present case.”
+
+“I trust we get a chance to run ashore,” said the boy, eagerly. “That
+looks like quite a large island. I wonder if it is inhabited?”
+
+“That is hard to say. Certainly there are no evidences in sight to
+prove there are inhabitants, yet there may be some natives on the
+northern shore. There are many thousands of islands situated in this
+portion of the Pacific and Indian oceans, and the population is
+constantly shifting. You may visit an island one year and find there
+a considerable settlement; go there the next year and you will find
+not a soul. An earthquake has come, or a dreadful storm, or an enemy,
+or, mayhap, the inhabitants have heard of a better place and become
+emigrants.”
+
+“And what are the natives――Kanakas, like those at Honolulu?”
+
+“Hardly, although you will find Maoris here, similar to the people of
+New Zealand, from whom the Kanakas are supposed to be descendants. The
+majority of the natives are Malays, but there are also millions of
+black, woolly-headed people, known as Papuan negroes, and, of course,
+there are on the larger islands many whites, from Europe principally,
+as well as Chinese and Japanese.”
+
+“It’s a strange land.”
+
+“Taken as a whole it is fairly well known, but there are many islands
+that have never been explored, and there are many spots that no
+sea-captain would care to visit, for fear his ship would fall into
+the hands of pirates. But, thanks be to God, who watches over us all,
+this great, unknown world is slowly but surely giving itself over to
+Christianity, and with Christianity will come civilization in its best
+form. I do not fear for the future, although at present the horizon is
+sometimes dark,” concluded the missionary, reverently.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER XIII
+
+                   AN ISLAND NOT ALTOGETHER DESERTED
+
+
+“Hurrah! here we are on land once more! How good it feels to put one’s
+foot on old Mother Earth after being on shipboard so long!”
+
+It was Larry who uttered the words. He and a number of others had
+received permission to go ashore, to take a tramp around previous to
+filling the water-casks. In the party were Tom Grandon and Cal Vincent,
+and both were armed, the one with a rifle, and the other with a
+shotgun, ready to bring down anything in the shape of game which might
+appear.
+
+“I enjoy the shore myself, Larry,” answered Luke Striker, who was
+trudging along beside the boy, up the beach strewn high with shells and
+bits of broken coral. “But the cap’n says as how we must keep our eyes
+peeled for natives. Some of ’em ain’t none too friendly in these parts.”
+
+“It looks as if there wasn’t a human soul in sight or hearing outside
+of our own party, Luke. Just listen; there is nothing to be heard but
+the booming of the surf and the cries of the tropical birds.”
+
+“You don’t reckon that a native who was an enemy would come on to you
+blowing a fish-horn, do you?” answered the Yankee sailor, disdainfully.
+“No, sirree; he would come as sly as a cat figurin’ on catchin’ a
+mouse. It’s their way, so I’ve heard, although I allow as I never yet
+met an enemy out in these parts, and I spent several years here.”
+
+The sun had come out strong and hot, and the whole party were glad
+enough to avail themselves of the shade that the tall bushes and
+stately palms afforded. Soon the strip of beach came to an end. Beyond
+was a series of rocks, one apparently toppled upon another, and all
+thickly overgrown with trailing vines. The boatswain, who was in front,
+came to a halt.
+
+“This channel ends here,” he said. “I don’t know about cuttin’ through
+yonder reefs!” and he pointed to the rising rocks.
+
+“Oh, let us go ahead,” cried Larry. “See, the rocks seem to lead to the
+top of the island. If we once get up there, we’ll be able to look all
+around and down on the other side. Come on.”
+
+The boatswain demurred, but Striker, Vincent, and the others were with
+Larry, and so they began to mount the rocks,――a difficult undertaking,
+as they realized long before the top of the elevation was gained. One
+had to push the other, holding on to the vines in the mean time, and
+Hobson suffered a slip and a tumble which for several minutes deprived
+him of his breath. His clothing was much torn, especially his trousers,
+and at this the Englishman grumbled not a little.
+
+“It’s just my luck!” he said. “If I had a wife to sew ’em up, it would
+not be so bad, but when we get back to the _Columbia_, it will be
+myself who can set down with the wearisome needle, and nobody else.”
+
+“Never mind, Hobson,” laughed Larry. “I won half of those trousers at
+the swimming match, and I’ll give you my leg if Striker will give you
+his.”
+
+“Since one leg will do me small good, seeing I’m not stumping on a cork
+yet, he can have the leg,” answered the Yankee. “It’s a heap sight
+better nor cuttin’ ’em in half with the shears, as Captain Ponsberry
+suggested, when the parson wanted to know who was to get the prize.”
+
+At the remembrance of this bit of pleasantry on Captain Ponsberry’s
+part, the whole party laughed, and on they went again in improved
+humor. Larry and Striker were slightly in advance, and seeing the end
+of the elevation just ahead, the boy made a dash to reach it first.
+
+“Here we are, and well worth the climb!” he exclaimed, as he gazed
+around. “What a beautiful view! I wish one of us had borrowed the
+captain’s spyglass.”
+
+A grand panorama was spread before and around them. On the opposite
+side of the elevation the slope was more gradual, and here tall grass,
+wild flowers, and shrubs grew in endless profusion, the flowers in all
+the gorgeous colors of the rainbow, and giving forth such a rich scent
+that it was almost sickening. Half way down the hill a large spring
+gushed from under a heavy rock, forming a tiny stream leading into the
+ocean beyond. On the left and the right were thick forests, principally
+of teak wood, ending in a series of coral reefs stretching forth from
+the island proper for the distance of quarter of a mile.
+
+“Don’t see any natives,” remarked Vincent, who had followed Larry and
+Striker. “Do you?”
+
+Striker was staring at a small clearing to the northwest. “Am I
+mistaken or is that a hut over there?” he questioned, pointing with his
+long forefinger in the direction.
+
+All of the party took a long look. Larry and Striker were of the
+opinion that it was a hut, while the others thought it must be nothing
+but a peculiar formation of brush.
+
+“Certainly there are no natives in sight,” said Hobson. “Now we have
+come so far we might as well go down, and sample that spring as we
+pass.”
+
+This was agreed to, and after a brief breathing spell they set off,
+Larry and Striker again in the front. Going down had looked easy, but
+they got many a tumble and were glad enough to rest again when the
+spring was gained.
+
+“It’s mighty good water, but we can’t bring the casks up here,”
+remarked Vincent, as he swallowed a goodly portion of the cooling
+liquid. “The cap’n or some one of us will have to locate another spring
+nearer the ship.”
+
+In a few minutes they resumed the journey. The object Striker had
+pointed out was now in plain view, and they saw that it was indeed a
+hut, and no small one either. The shelter was at least eight feet
+wide by fifteen feet long, and seven feet high at its lowest end. It
+contained a window on the side towards them, and beneath this was a
+rude bench made of a tree slab set upon flat stones. More than this,
+as they came closer, they discovered a stone fireplace in front of the
+hut, upon which rested an iron pot and several very rusty tin dishes.
+
+“Somebody’s camp!” cried Striker. “And a white man’s――I’ll wager a
+month’s pay. But he ain’t been here for a long while, not by the
+general look of things.”
+
+“No, I don’t believe a soul has been near this place in a year,” said
+Hobson. “Why, look at the spider webs; they tell the tale without
+anything else. Hullo, look there!”
+
+He pointed to the side of the hut, where, on a projection, hung a
+dilapidated sailor’s jacket, much the worse for exposure to the wind
+and weather. Beneath the jacket, half buried in the mud, rested a
+sailor’s hat.
+
+“That settles it,” muttered Striker. “Whoever lived here is either
+dead, or else some friendly ship chanced along and took him off.”
+
+“I wonder if he left anything behind him?” put in Larry, after a
+pause. “Let us take a look into the hut.”
+
+“Beware of spiders and centipedes,” said Vincent, warningly. “Those
+creatures in these parts are not to be trifled with.” And he broke off
+a bush branch with which to clear the doorway.
+
+“Oh! Look out!”
+
+Several uttered the words simultaneously, and on the instant there was
+a wild scattering in every direction. Bang! went Tom Grandon’s rifle,
+but the shot failed to hit its mark. The weapon was hurled to the
+ground, and the mate of the _Columbia_ did not stop running until he
+was knee-deep in the surf before the hut――to which all of the others
+had led the way.
+
+For from the interior of the shelter had glided a huge snake, brown
+in color, with black spots and yellow rings, and a long oval head, in
+which were set a pair of beady, angry eyes. The reptile was all of
+twelve feet in length, and thicker than a man’s arm, and it came forth
+so rapidly and unexpectedly that for the moment every one in the party
+was paralyzed with fear. It reached to within a yard of Larry before
+the lad saw it, and the backward leap the youth made would have done
+credit to a skilled acrobat.
+
+“That must be a boa constrictor!” cried Striker, who had been the first
+to lead the way into the water.
+
+“I wonder if he can swim?” queried another of the sailors. “If he can,
+we aren’t safe here.”
+
+“Of course he can swim,” answered Grandon. “I tried my best to hit him,
+but I guess I didn’t make it. Cal, why don’t you go at him?”
+
+The last words had scarcely left the mate’s mouth when the boatswain
+opened fire with the shotgun, aiming directly at the upraised head
+of the snake, that had paused on the rim of the sea, as if undecided
+whether or not to undertake an aquatic pursuit. Vincent was very
+nervous, and the shot, instead of hitting its object, scattered on the
+sands a yard away.
+
+[Illustration: THE BOATSWAIN OPENED FIRE WITH THE SHOTGUN]
+
+“Missed!” grunted Hobson. “Reckon, Cal, you couldn’t hit the broad side
+of a house with a Gatling gun.”
+
+“He is moving away, anyhow,” returned Vincent, as the great snake
+turned and slowly glided towards the brush behind the hut.
+
+“Give him another shot!” cried Striker. “Load up and let me do the
+trick. Tom, where’s your rifle?”
+
+“I――I let it fall,” answered the mate of the _Columbia_, sheepishly.
+“There it is near the fireplace.”
+
+“Better go in and get it,” went on the Yankee sailor, facetiously.
+
+“Well――I――I’ll wait a bit. I don’t want to be bit or hugged to death.
+Give him a dose of shot, if you can hit him.”
+
+By this time the shotgun was loaded again, and now Striker took it.
+The great snake had reached the bushes and was lying with its head
+concealed, but the lower half of its shiny body exposed. Taking careful
+aim, the Yankee sailor fired, and an instant later the reptile was seen
+to turn and twist in every direction, slashing the bushes as with a
+flail. It had been struck fairly, but the shot was by no means a fatal
+one. It remained in view fully half a minute, then crawled further into
+the brush, where they heard it continue its thrashing.
+
+“There, I don’t think he’ll bother us much more,” remarked Striker, as
+he handed the shotgun back to Vincent. “Tom, you can get your rifle
+now, if you want it.”
+
+The mate hated very much to make the move, but not willing to show
+too much cowardice, he waded ashore slowly and with extreme caution.
+Securing the weapon, he rushed back to the others, but the snake did
+not show itself again.
+
+“Well, this looks as if we were in a pickle,” remarked Larry, who, it
+must be said, was as cool as any of them――although this is not saying a
+great deal. “Here we are, and our ship on the other side of the island,
+and nothing to do but to tramp through that brush and over those rocks,
+and perhaps stir up another of those snakes. I’ve heard they often
+travel in pairs.”
+
+“No! no! you don’t catch me cutting through the brush again!”
+ejaculated Hobson. “That bloody reptile was too much for me. Ugh! my
+blood is running cold yet. If I was to meet him in the bushes, I’d die,
+I know I should, and I’m no more of a coward than most men at that.”
+
+At these words each of the little party looked at the others. It was
+truly an uncomfortable situation in which to be placed. What was best
+to be done?
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER XIV
+
+                 THE PHILIPPINE ISLANDS AND THE REBELS
+
+
+“Well, there are only two ways of getting back,” remarked the mate of
+the _Columbia_, after a long pause. “One is to climb the hill, and the
+other is to skirt either the east or the west shore. It’s a close mile
+across, and I reckon it’s three miles around, one way or the other.”
+
+“Yes, I reckon it is three miles by way of the shore,” answered Hobson.
+“But there is a beach most of the way, if not all of the way, and it
+will be easier walking on that than it will be a-climbing the rocks.”
+
+“I say let us try the shore,” put in Vincent, who was as scared as any
+one. “We won’t be worried about snakes, and we’ll see more than if we
+went back by the way we came. The question is, which shore, east or
+west?”
+
+The question was debated for a few minutes, and it was decided that,
+according to the view from the top of the hill, the eastern shore
+route must be the shorter, and would, consequently, be the best to
+take, for all felt that they must now be getting back to the ship. Both
+the rifle and shotgun were loaded, and off they started, the two armed
+men in advance, on the alert to fire at the first enemy which might
+appear.
+
+For the first mile nothing came to view but the ocean upon one side,
+and a stretch of beach and brush upon the other, backed up by the
+forests previously mentioned. In the brush and trees could be heard
+great numbers of birds, and both Grandon and Vincent would have gone in
+for game had it not been that the remembrance of the snake held them
+back. Yet they managed, by keeping wide awake, to bring down several
+cockatoos and a species of wild turkey, and of these they were very
+proud.
+
+After the turkey was killed and slung over the mate’s shoulder, another
+mile was covered, and then they came to a small bay, or inlet, on the
+other side of which was a hump of rocks, hiding the south shore, where
+they knew the _Columbia_ must be at anchor. Striker was now again in
+advance, with Larry beside him.
+
+“Avast!” cried the Yankee sailor, suddenly plucking the boy by the
+sleeve. “Get back there, out of sight, all of you, and I’ll capture a
+prize wuth havin’!”
+
+He motioned to the others, who came to an immediate halt. Looking
+ahead, they saw at the back of the sunny inlet several large turtles
+basking on the beach, their necks and legs stretched out to the fullest
+extent.
+
+“Can you do the trick?” whispered Hobson. “I’ve heard tell it’s got to
+be managed cleverly or the turtle will get away.”
+
+“Trust me――I’ve done it before――when I was ashore on Luzon!” answered
+the Yankee sailor. “Watch me, Larry; it’s a trick worth knowing――in
+case ye are cast ashore some day with no food and no gun to bring it
+down with.”
+
+While the rest of the party retreated to the shelter of some nearby
+bushes, having by this time gotten over the greater part of the fright
+occasioned by the snake, Luke Striker crawled stealthily along the
+beach and entered the shallow waters of the inlet, pursuing a course
+which presently brought him up directly in front of the turtles, who
+still lay unconscious of their danger.
+
+In a few minutes Striker had gained the edge of the beach, and here he
+paused, to decide the question of which turtle to attack first. There
+were three in a bunch, two nearly side by side and the third a few
+yards to the rear, while a fourth turtle lay still further back, but
+somewhat to the left of its mates.
+
+Having fixed his plan of attack, the Yankee rushed forward as nimbly as
+his long legs would carry him, and, catching the nearest turtle by the
+side edge of the shell gave it a scoop which immediately placed it upon
+its back, with its legs squirming harmlessly in the air.
+
+Instantly there was a commotion, and with a great flapping the
+remaining turtles started up, and, seeing their enemy, made a rush
+towards the nearest water, that beside the one turned over uttering a
+savage hiss at Striker as it darted by, just escaping his reach.
+
+With the next nearest turtle gone, the Yankee leaped for the one behind
+the pair, which started for the water, then on seeing the sailor
+directly in the way, turned to move to one side. Another dexterous
+scoop, and this one was also helpless, and away went Striker for the
+fourth, now ten yards off and making for the water at the height of
+its clumsy speed. It was a nip-and-tuck race, in more ways than one;
+for as the sailor reached the turtle, it suddenly turned, gave him a
+vicious nip in the leg, and before Striker could recover tumbled into
+the water and was gone.
+
+“Wuow!” came from the Yankee, and for the time being his captures were
+forgotten, as he danced around in pain. Soon the wound was uncovered,
+and was found to be not unlike what an angry cat might have made.
+Striker lost no time in bathing it with salt water, and then with some
+brandy Grandon carried in a flask, doing this to avoid the possibility
+of blood poisoning.
+
+The two turtles lying upon their backs were each over a foot and a
+half in diameter, with shells of unusual beauty, as Larry could see at
+a glance. They were soon put to death, and turned over, and the boy
+examined them with interest.
+
+“They are hawk’s-bill turtles,” said Vincent. “A good catch. Do you
+know what this shell is used for?” he went on, to Larry.
+
+“It looks a little like tortoise-shell.”
+
+“It is tortoise-shell, although it will need a deal of polishing
+before it will show up as beautiful as it does in combs and ladies’
+pocket-knives, and the like. The natives take the shell off by turning
+the poor creatures over and making a fire under ’em while they are
+still alive; but that is the wust kind of cruelty.”
+
+No time was lost, after Striker’s wound had been dressed, in fastening
+several bits of cord to the two turtles, and while Larry and the
+Yankee carried one between them, the others of the party took care
+of the second. Crossing the hump of rocks, they came in sight of the
+_Columbia_ as anticipated, and soon after entered the yawl and rowed
+out to the schooner.
+
+“I was calculating you had got lost,” cried Captain Ponsberry, when
+they appeared. “Humph! A couple o’ good hawk’s-bills, but not much to
+eat.”
+
+“Aren’t the turtles good eating?” asked Larry.
+
+“About as good as that sawfish, lad. Green turtles are the thing; these
+are poor stuff, although we might try one, just for a change.”
+
+The story they had to tell about the snake was listened to with much
+interest. “I do not blame you for trying to keep out of the reach of
+those reptiles,” said Mr. Wells. “If one of them caught any of the
+party, the unfortunate would be crushed to a jelly and then slowly
+devoured. Perhaps that is what happened to the former inhabitant of the
+solitary hut you visited.”
+
+In coming over the hump of rocks near Turtle Cove, as Larry named the
+spot, they had located another spring, less than a hundred yards from
+shore. Upon learning of this, the schooner was towed around to the
+inlet, and the task of filling the water-casks began that afternoon and
+was completed the next day. Then up went the anchor once more, every
+sail was set, and the trip to Hong Kong was resumed.
+
+Again the days lengthened into weeks, and as nothing occurred in the
+way of storms the voyage became as monotonous as before. The only
+break was on Sunday, when the Rev. Martin Wells held a regular church
+service, morning and evening, which all were glad to attend, some,
+among whom was Larry, because they thought it the proper thing to do,
+and the others because the missionary was a good speaker and it helped
+to pass the time. Even Olan Oleson attended, but it is doubtful if
+the sermons and prayers affected the wicked-minded Norwegian, who was
+plotting continually to revenge himself upon Larry and Striker.
+
+Mr. Wells was much pleased to see what an interest Larry took in his
+work, and how ready the lad was to lead in the singing of the hymns,
+and the two became better friends than ever. The missionary had long
+since heard the story of the boy’s trouble at home, and while he did
+not exactly approve of what had been done, yet he felt it a hard task
+to offer any censure, considering how Larry and his brothers must have
+suffered through the loss of their mother and the breaking up of the
+home. He advised Larry to write a plain straightforward letter to Job
+Dowling from Hong Kong, telling of what he had done, and then to hope
+for the best.
+
+“You’ll feel better for having written, mark my words,” he concluded.
+“And your uncle ought to know where you are, in case anything happens
+to you.” And Larry promised that the letter should be written.
+
+As the time sped by, the vast Pacific Ocean was left behind, and they
+began to crawl slowly but surely into the South China Sea, at a point
+directly below the most southerly extremity of the island of Formosa.
+
+“It won’t be many days now before our trip comes to an end,” remarked
+the missionary to Larry, one hot, starlit evening, as the two lounged
+along the starboard rail, wondering when the coast of Formosa would be
+sighted. “The distance from South Point on Formosa to Hong Kong is not
+much over four hundred miles.”
+
+“This is the island from which the famous Formosa teas come, I
+suppose?” said Larry.
+
+“Yes, the island is famous for its teas, and tea-growing is its main
+industry, although, I believe, rice is also raised to some extent.”
+
+“Striker was telling me that the Philippines are directly south of us,”
+went on the boy. “He has visited Luzon, which he says is the largest of
+the group.”
+
+“Yes, Luzon is the largest island, and upon that is situated Manila,
+the principal city. There are a great number of islands, some
+navigators placing the figure at thirteen hundred, but many of these
+are mere bits of coral formation and uninhabited. The islands of any
+consequence, and which are peopled, number in the neighborhood of four
+hundred.”
+
+“Four hundred! Well, that is enough, I’m sure.”
+
+The missionary smiled. “Yes, that is enough, yet you must remember that
+the Philippines are only one group of islands out of many in Oceanica.
+How many islands there really are will, perhaps, never be known; for
+many of them are of volcanic origin, and rise and sink as volcanoes
+burst forth or earthquakes occur.”
+
+“That wouldn’t be very nice, if a fellow should happen to be around at
+the time.”
+
+“Thousands of the natives have lost their lives through the actions
+of the volcanoes and the earthquakes, as well as by the tidal waves
+which very often accompany such phenomena. But there are millions more
+to take the places of the lost ones, and so, poor creatures, they are
+never missed. I presume the Philippines will be of unusual interest to
+the Americans in case the blowing up of the _Maine_ should lead to a
+war with Spain.”
+
+“Why should they be?”
+
+“Outside of Cuba and Porto Rico, the Philippines are Spain’s only
+colonial possessions of value, and I have heard it stated that the
+Philippines are among the richest islands in the world, being, on
+account of their volcanic origin, full of precious minerals. Besides
+this, large quantities of hemp are grown here, out of which manila rope
+and manila paper are made.”
+
+“And does Spain rule the natives here as badly as she rules the Cubans?”
+
+“Yes, every bit, if not worse. Uprisings are frequent, and Spain has
+a regular standing army quartered in and around Manila, Bulacano, and
+other cities. Even now the natives are in a state of revolt, under the
+leadership of a General Aguinaldo. The natives have put up with the
+iron hand of tyranny for years, and should they ever win what they
+are fighting for, it is likely every Spaniard on the islands will be
+butchered.”
+
+Larry shuddered. “Coming from the States, one would scarcely dream of
+such horrors, Mr. Wells.”
+
+“That is true, Lawrence; but, as I told you in a previous talk, Spain
+has only herself to blame for all this. She has misused these people
+for centuries, and now must take the consequence. I can scarcely
+believe it, yet only a short while ago I received several letters from
+Manila and Hong Kong giving the details of a fearful slaughter of
+rebels whom the Spanish troops in Luzon had captured. There were over
+a hundred of them, and the poor fellows were taken to the Lunetta,
+a favorite concourse outside of Manila, where in the presence of
+thousands of people, including women,――I cannot call such immodest
+creatures ladies,――the victims were bound, drawn up in a long line with
+the Spanish details behind them, and, at a given signal, were shot
+down like so many dogs. Our missionary at Manila mentioned one of the
+number in particular, a young fellow not over eighteen years of age,
+in whom he had become greatly interested. The poor boy was drawn up in
+line with the rest, but was not killed at the first volley, nor at the
+second, and at last a Spanish surgeon who was on duty there ordered one
+of the soldiers to come up close with his gun and finish the poor lad,
+and this was done in a manner I would not care to put into words. When
+such things occur, is it any wonder that those who are oppressed rise
+up determined to either throw off the yoke of tyranny or give up their
+lives in the effort?”
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER XV
+
+                         ALONE ON THE CHINA SEA
+
+
+South Point, the lowest extremity of Formosa, was passed on the
+following day, a mere speck upon the horizon, and then the bow of the
+gallant _Columbia_ was turned directly for Hong Kong.
+
+As one day after another went by, the weather, which had heretofore
+been nearly all that could be desired, changed with great suddenness.
+One day it would be blazing hot, so hot that no one could stand it on
+the deck during midday; the next it would be cold, with high winds and
+a driving rain from the northward, which sent the schooner scudding
+southward under bare poles, and caused every stick of timber to creak
+and groan in a manner new to Larry’s ears.
+
+“I knowed we would pay up for all that niceness,” grumbled Luke
+Striker, as he came into the forecastle one afternoon drenched to the
+skin. “We’re going to have a spell of the dirtiest weather you ever
+saw; mark my words.”
+
+“It can’t be any worse than it is just now,” answered Larry, who was
+holding on to the edge of his berth to keep himself from sliding to
+the floor. “My gracious! I thought a while ago the _Columbia_ would go
+clean over! It wouldn’t take much sail to pull a stick out of her just
+now.”
+
+“We won’t fly a rag for forty-eight hours,” put in Hobson, who had
+followed Striker in. “It’s a regular hurricane, and we can be thankful
+if we keep right side up.”
+
+At that moment Olan Oleson approached the doorway from outside. The big
+Norwegian was as wet as any of them and in a worse humor than usual. In
+his arms he carried his great-coat, which for some reason he had just
+taken off. As Larry looked up at him, he swung the dripping garment
+around and hit the boy fairly across the face with it.
+
+“You tak dat!” he cried. “You no laugh at me for nothank!”
+
+“What do you mean by that, Oleson?” spluttered Larry, as soon as he
+could speak. “I wasn’t laughing at you. I just looked up to see who was
+coming in.”
+
+“I know better――you shut your mouth,” blustered Oleson, and then out
+of pure ugliness of temper he attempted to hit Larry again.
+
+But now the boy was on his guard and dodged. Then he caught hold of the
+great-coat and attempted to pull it from Oleson’s grasp. The Norwegian
+held fast, and a sharp but short tug-of-war ensued, coming to a sudden
+termination when a ripping sound was heard and the coat began to tear
+up the back.
+
+“Now see what you do!” fumed Oleson, as Larry released his hold. “You
+spoil dat coat. I mak you pay for him!”
+
+“It’s your own fault,” was the quick answer, as Larry wiped the water
+from his face. “You had no business to hit me.”
+
+“That’s right, Oleson; it wasn’t fair,” broke in Striker.
+
+“You kap out of dis, or I mak you!” shouted the Norwegian, almost
+beside himself with rage. “He tear de coat and he pay for him. I show
+you!”
+
+He dashed the garment on his berth and leaped upon Larry. The boy tried
+to escape, but there was no room in the narrow forecastle, and down he
+went over a stool, with Oleson on top of him. The fall was a bad one,
+and Larry’s back might have been broken had not both Striker and Hobson
+interfered and hauled Oleson off.
+
+“Lat go me!” screamed the Norwegian. “Lat go!”
+
+“I will――when you promise to behave yourself,” returned Striker.
+“You’re a nice brute to tackle a mere boy like Larry.”
+
+“Lat go! I report you to de captain.”
+
+“Do it, and welcome,” were Striker’s words, and giving a sudden twist,
+he threw Oleson down and sat upon him. The Norwegian squirmed and
+fumed, but all to no purpose.
+
+How far the quarrel might have gone there is no telling. But now an
+interruption came――an interruption so terrible that for the time being
+all else was forgotten.
+
+As I have mentioned, the rain and wind were both high, but up to
+this time the electrical disturbances in the sky――so common to this
+locality――had been comparatively insignificant. Now, however, there
+came without an instant’s warning a blinding flash of lightning which
+blazed upon every part of the _Columbia_, followed instantly by a crack
+of thunder which to Larry sounded like the crack of doom.
+
+“Oh!” cried the boy, and fell back a few paces into the arms of Hobson.
+He could say no more, nor could any of the rest. Silently Striker
+leaped from Oleson, who scrambled to his feet, and then came another
+crash, which set Larry’s every nerve into a quiver.
+
+“We’re struck!” screamed a voice from outside. “On deck, men! on deck!”
+
+“Struck!” gasped Larry. “Oh, I hope not!”
+
+“Gosh, but that was a corker!” burst out Striker, regaining his breath.
+“Never heard quite sech a hard crack afore.”
+
+He darted out of the forecastle, and the others followed him. The
+lightning had left all behind it almost as dark as pitch, and no one
+could see where to go.
+
+“Hold tight, or you’ll be blowed overboard!” came from Hobson. “Where
+are we struck?” he yelled as hard as he could, in order to make himself
+heard above the whistling of the wind.
+
+“The foremast is hit, and the bow’s afire!” came in Tom Grandon’s
+voice. “Quick, boys, out with the fire-hose and start up the pump.
+Remember, the oil pantry is close to the blaze!”
+
+“The oil pantry! God be with us!” The words came from the Rev. Martin
+Wells. “Let me help at the work, mate; the sooner we put the fire out,
+the better.”
+
+“All right, sir,” answered Grandon. “But have a care, or you’ll roll
+overboard. See, men,” he went on, “the mast is afire; that is, what
+is left of it. Hobson, Roddy, get the axes and chop it away. Striker,
+bring the hose around the mizzenmast and over to larboard. It’s a
+wonder some of you men forward weren’t knocked out. The poor captain’s
+senseless. Oleson, help Striker with that hose, and you, too, Larry.
+Vincent, cut the ropes with a knife, or an axe, if you’ve got one. The
+rest of you screw the hose to the pump and turn on the water. I’ll chop
+this woodwork away so you can get at the fire below.” And crash! crash!
+went Tom Grandon’s axe, as he worked away manfully, while the crew
+scurried off in all directions, to do as ordered.
+
+Striker had already run for the hose, and soon several lengths were
+unreeled, and not only Larry and Oleson, but also the missionary, took
+hold to drag it forward. The larboard rail was just gained when the
+_Columbia_ gave a sharp lurch, and down went the three men and the
+boy in the scupper-hole. Oleson came on top of Larry, and took grim
+delight in planting the heel of his rough boot on the lad’s neck.
+
+“Get off of my neck, Oleson!” cried Larry, and then Striker hurled the
+Norwegian back and scrambled up. He had just reached for the rail,
+when, muttering some fierce imprecation in his native tongue, Oleson
+caught Striker by the leg and flung him over the side! For one second
+the Yankee sailor seemed to hang in mid-air, then with a wild cry he
+disappeared into the boiling waters beside the vessel.
+
+“Striker!” gasped Larry. “He will be drowned! Hobson! Vincent! Mr.
+Grandon! Come here! Oleson has thrown――”
+
+He was permitted to go no further, for the Norwegian had now turned and
+caught him by the throat. “You can a-go wid him!” hissed the infuriated
+rascal, and forced the alarmed boy over the rail. In vain Larry tried
+to cling fast; Oleson beat off his hold, and down he went into that
+same tempest-tossed element, out of sight and hearing of those who were
+hurrying to answer his call.
+
+How far down into the depths of the China Sea Larry descended he never
+knew, but it was to him a long distance. Instinctively he closed his
+mouth and held his breath as he felt the warm currents shift and swirl
+around him. Was he being drawn down under the _Columbia_? Fervently he
+prayed not.
+
+When he did come up, to puff and blow like a porpoise, all was dark
+around him. He was on the top of a huge wave; a second later he went
+down into a great hollow, the waves before and behind him seeming like
+hills ready to tumble in and plunge him out of existence. Again he
+prayed a silent prayer――yet none the less heard――that his life might be
+spared to him.
+
+A minute later came another flash of lightning, revealing two things
+apart from the waste of water around him. One was the _Columbia_
+fast receding in the distance; the second was a life-preserver some
+thoughtful friend had thrown overboard after him.
+
+“Gone!” he murmured, with a sinking heart. “Will they come back? Oh,
+they must come back! They won’t desert Striker and me like this!”
+
+The life-preserver floated but a short distance away, yet it was
+no easy task to secure it amid those mountainous waves. He struck out
+valiantly, guided by the flashes of lightning which followed. He was
+all but exhausted when he finally gained the article and adjusted it
+under his arms. With the preserver, floating was easy.
+
+[Illustration: THE LIFE-PRESERVER FLOATED BUT A SHORT DISTANCE AWAY]
+
+The seconds lengthened into minutes after that, and the minutes into
+hours, and still he floated aimlessly about, the sport of the wind and
+the waves. Sometimes a wave would break over his head, almost knocking
+out of him the little breath that remained. The rain came down as
+hard as ever, but the lightning and thunder became less frequent, and
+finally died away altogether, leaving him to the utter blackness of the
+night.
+
+It was a time never to be forgotten, a time stamped indelibly upon
+Larry Russell’s memory, that lonely night on the China Sea, floating
+he knew not where, fearing that even if he kept afloat until daybreak
+no one would come to his rescue, but that he should continue to drift
+until hunger and thirst should claim him as their own. “Oh, God, help
+me!” he cried, not once but many times; yet only the whistling wind
+seemed to answer in mockery.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER XVI
+
+                        CAST ASHORE ON AN ISLAND
+
+
+“Not a bit of land nor a sail in sight!”
+
+Such were the disheartening words which escaped Larry’s lips when the
+morning had dawned, and he had taken a long and careful look around,
+as one wave and another lifted him up to the level of the dark green
+mountains shifting around him.
+
+The long stretches of the night, coupled with the fury of the elements,
+had thoroughly exhausted him, and it took all the little will-power
+left to keep from dropping over into a sleep which would surely have
+ended in death.
+
+The morning sun glinted over the waves, flashing and flaring in his
+eyes, and then began to mount the skies and pour down those scorching
+rays upon his uncovered head. Soon this brought to him the first of the
+added perils of which he had thought――that of thirst. Never was he so
+dry before――with millions of tons of water around him! He was almost
+tempted to drink of the salty water, but resisted, knowing full well
+that if he did so, his thirst would be tenfold increased.
+
+Where would it end?
+
+Over and over again he asked himself that question without being able
+to devise an answer. Would not some friendly sail appear, or some tiny
+coral island――one of those many of which the missionary had spoken?
+Thinking of Mr. Wells made him think of the _Columbia_. Surely, surely,
+his friends on board of her would not desert him. But then his cheeks
+blanched as he thought of the storm and the fire. Had the gallant craft
+fallen a prey to one or the other, after all? It might be, for ships
+had been struck by lightning and gone down before.
+
+Towards noon, with the fierce sun directly overhead, he felt that the
+end must be near. His mind was in a whirl, and fearful visions came to
+him: now he was battling with the sawfish, then the great snake was
+coming through the water after him, and anon Oleson had him by the
+throat and was choking him. The last vision seemed so real that he
+cried out as loudly as his parched throat would permit, “Help! help!
+somebody help me!”
+
+What was that? an answering call? No, no, it must be another
+hallucination. Yet he strained his ears eagerly, and screamed again.
+No, it was no deception; the call was returned, and the voice sounded
+sweetly familiar. He was down in a hollow, and waited eagerly to mount
+the coming wave. Up he went, and still up, to come in contact with a
+bit of wreckage――the fore-topmast of the _Columbia_, with its trailing
+ropes. As he caught the end of the mast, he saw that the centre
+supported a sailor’s body.
+
+“Luke Striker!”
+
+“Larry Russell! Is it possible!” came from the Yankee tar. For the
+moment he could scarcely believe his eyesight. “How did this happen?
+Did the _Columbia_ go down?”
+
+“I don’t know about that,” answered Larry, moving closer to his friend.
+“Oh, how glad I am that we have come together!” he exclaimed, his wet
+face beaming with pleasure. “It’s awful to be alone.”
+
+“So it is, Larry, and I was thinking just that same when I heard your
+call. But how is it you are here if you don’t know about the fate of
+the _Columbia_?”
+
+“Oleson pitched me overboard. When you went over, I started to call for
+help, and he turned on me like a flash; and here I am.”
+
+“And you don’t know about the craft――if she is O. K. or not?”
+
+“I am afraid something must have happened, for Captain Ponsberry
+wouldn’t desert us like this, would he?”
+
+“Cap’n Ponsberry was knocked out by the lightning――don’t you remember
+Tom Grandon sayin’ so? But Tom wouldn’t desert us; I know him too well.
+Yes, I’m afraid the ship has had a tough time of it, and maybe she’s at
+the bottom of the China Sea this minit.” Striker drew a deep breath.
+“We’re in a pickle, lad, jest about as deep as we can git!”
+
+“I know I am dying for a drink. Oh, if only we could sight land
+somewhere! Are we far from Formosa?”
+
+“Formosa? Why, lad, we’ve been driving south’ard as fast as we could
+for forty-eight hours. We are closer to some o’ the Philippines nor
+anything――though I allow as they must be miles an’ miles away. Yet I’m
+prayin’ myself we may strike some land afore we see Davy Jones’ locker.”
+
+With some of the dangling ropes Striker had made himself a sort of seat
+beside the mast, and now Larry went to work, on the opposite side,
+to do the same for himself. This accomplished, he rested far more
+comfortably than before. While he was at work, the Yankee sailor took
+another rope which was slender, and began to twist and braid it into
+a shell-like head covering, similar to one he had already made for
+himself. The dampness and shade of the improvised hat made Larry’s head
+feel much better.
+
+Slowly the afternoon wore away. Towards evening the sun went behind a
+dense mass of angry clouds, and it began to rain as before, while the
+distant rumble of thunder crept closer and closer. An hour later the
+storm was on them in all of its fury, and they found themselves driving
+to the southwestward, over and through the boiling and lashing waves
+which threatened to engulf them forever.
+
+“I can’t stand much of this!” panted poor Larry, at about midnight. “My
+chest is pounded so sore I can hardly breathe. Every time a wave breaks
+over me I―― Oh, Luke, look!”
+
+A broad spread of lightning had lit up the scene around them, causing
+Larry to suddenly change his talk.
+
+“What is it, Larry?”
+
+“Land! just ahead of us! We are getting into the breakers already!”
+
+He spoke the truth, and a second later another flash of lightning gave
+Striker an opportunity to take in the situation.
+
+“You’re right, my lad. Quick! unfasten yourself from that rope and
+hold ready to let go, or you may be smashed to jelly between the mast
+and the rocks. See, we are already passing over an outer reef. Look
+out, and if your feet touch the beach run as hard as you can from the
+undertow!”
+
+Striker fairly screamed the last words, in order to make himself
+heard, for the pounding of the surf was like the booming of cannons
+around them. Up they went to the top of the last wave, and then down
+and down until the feet of both touched some hard substance. The spray
+was flying in every direction, while the brine was lashed into a thick
+foam. Larry tried to keep his feet, but failed utterly, and rolled over
+and over, he knew not whither. The mast, which had slipped from him,
+bumped his arm, and, without thinking of what he was doing, he clutched
+the tangled-up ropes. Then came a second rise, and he was swept in
+closer than before. The receding waves left him but knee-deep in the
+element. A flash of lightning showed him in what direction safety lay,
+and he ran with all the power left to his legs. Once he went down on
+his hands, and the next wave nearly caught him, but he was up again
+in a trice, and in a moment more was safe on the rocks which arose
+directly behind the storm-beaten beach.
+
+“Luke! are you safe?” were the first words he uttered, as soon as he
+could catch his breath.
+
+“I am, and thank God for it!” came from the Yankee sailor, and
+presently he appeared out of the darkness. “That was a close shave,
+lad, wasn’t it? I came near to striking on my head.”
+
+“It was a close shave,” answered Larry, and added reverently: “We have
+much to thank Heaven for, haven’t we?” Somehow, that time of extreme
+peril was deeply impressed upon his youthful mind.
+
+“Yes, lad, God has been with us this night, no doubt of it. We couldn’t
+have stood it much longer drifting in that sea. Let us get a little
+further back, under the shelter of yonder overhanging cliff; and there
+we can take it easy until morning.”
+
+Both had dropped upon the rocks, too exhausted to stand, but now they
+managed to reach the base of the cliff Striker had mentioned, and here
+they found a sheltered nook. Close at hand was a pool of rain-water,
+of which both partook eagerly.
+
+Half an hour later found the pair asleep――sleeping the heavy sleep of
+the over-tired,――undisturbed by the thunder in the skies or on the
+beach. They knew not where they had landed, nor did they care. It was
+enough to know they had struck land, and an island that was not barren,
+but covered with tropical growth, as the flashes of lightning had
+revealed.
+
+Striker was the first to awaken in the morning. He opened his eyes to
+find the storm cleared away and the sun shining brightly. Larry lay at
+his side, the boy’s curly head resting upon his wet arm, slumbering as
+soundly as ever.
+
+“I’ll let him sleep until he wakes up――no use to ’rouse him,” thought
+the Yankee sailor, and got up himself. He was stiff and sore, and it
+was several seconds before he felt in the humor to set off on a tour
+of inspection. Before going, he brought from one of his pockets a
+water-proof match-safe, and was delighted to find therein eight matches
+all in perfect condition.
+
+A short walk along the cliff, below and above,――for the rocky shelf
+was irregular, and not over twenty feet high,――convinced Striker that
+no human beings were in the vicinity, to become their friends or their
+enemies; and then the sailor set about obtaining some food, for he was
+now nearly starved.
+
+He felt certain that the storm had cast up upon the irregular beach
+more or less fish, and in this he was not mistaken, for hardly had he
+covered a distance of half a dozen rods than he heard a flapping, and
+saw a winged coryphene trying vainly to reach the ocean, from which it
+had been hurled.
+
+“A dolphin!” he cried, making a mistake common to many sailors, who do
+not distinguish the difference between the two creatures. In a second
+he had the coryphene by the tail, and a blow upon the rocks ended the
+wounded one’s misery and made the prize his own. The fish was over two
+feet long, and weighed all of seven pounds. It was at first black and
+brown, but its colors soon changed to olive and azure,――a peculiarity
+which it shares with the true dolphin of other waters.
+
+Fish in hand, Striker returned to where he had left Larry, and
+commenced to gather such brush as he could find which was dry or
+drying. It was no easy matter to discover wood dry enough to burn at
+once; but the shelter under the cliff afforded a little, and with this
+he started a blaze, and soon had a roaring fire, upon one edge of which
+he erected a flat stone, which soon became hot enough to use for a rude
+pan for his fish.
+
+It was the welcome smell of something to eat which aroused Larry quite
+as much as anything else. He sat up, rubbed his eyes in astonishment,
+and leaped to his feet.
+
+“A fire, and a fish frying!” he cried. “That is a welcome sight to a
+fellow as hungry as I am! How did you catch him, Luke?”
+
+“It was pure luck, Larry,” answered the sailor, and told his story.
+“The fish will be done to a turn in a few minutes, and then we can
+eat our fill; and I’ll warrant you’ll find it fine eating, and not
+altogether because you’re so hungry, either.”
+
+“I could eat anything,” was the reply. And when they sat down in the
+shade,――for the sun was growing hot,――Larry declared he had never
+tasted anything better. The flesh of the coryphene was as sweet as a
+nut, and they ate and ate, until little more than the bones was left.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER XVII
+
+                       THE STORY OF A LONG TRAMP
+
+
+They had hung their jackets by the fire to dry, and by the time
+breakfast was finished――a breakfast that Larry declared was breakfast,
+dinner, supper, and lunch all rolled into one――the garments were ready
+to put on again. Their improvised hats were gone, but seaweed was
+plentiful along the beach, and soon they had fixed up a pair of rude
+head coverings which gave them ample protection from the tropical sun,
+even if they were far from handsome in appearance.
+
+“We ain’t travellin’ on looks, lad,” said Striker, when Larry poked fun
+at the bonnets, as he dubbed them. “I’d rather wear this contrivance
+than be sunstruck.”
+
+“Of course, Luke――I was only fooling. The question is, now we are ready
+to move, where are we to go to?”
+
+“I’ve thought that over, lad, and I don’t know as we can do better nor
+to climb up to the highest top of this place and git our bearings, so
+to speak, same as we did at that other island we were on.”
+
+“And supposing we strike another snake?” and Larry could scarcely
+repress a shiver.
+
+“We’ll have to chance it. But I don’t believe we will. Come, we’ll cut
+ourselves a couple of good clubs, and then mount the cliff and the hill
+back of it. What I am worried about more than snakes is our chance of
+picking up the next meal. Fish ain’t layin’ around all over, ye see.”
+
+“Let us run along shore then and pick up what we can,” answered Larry,
+“or I can do so while you are cutting the clubs;” and so it was
+arranged.
+
+The beach was strewn with seaweed and shells, but, as Striker had
+intimated, fish were scarce, and Larry picked up but one small creature
+of an unknown variety, and not weighing over a pound and a half. It was
+full of spines which stuck his fingers until they bled, and he carried
+the fish back very gingerly.
+
+“Humph, not much, but better nor nuthin’,” was Striker’s comment. “I’ll
+wrap it in wet seaweed and sling it over my back. Here is your club,
+lad, and use it as best you can, if anything attacks you, be it snake,
+wild animal, or a blood-thirsty savage.”
+
+“Do you think this island inhabited?”
+
+“That depends a good deal on the size. If it’s large, yes; if it’s
+small, no.”
+
+“Is it one of the Philippines?”
+
+“I reckon it is; some small place directly to the north of Luzon. But
+come on; we want to make the most of the forenoon, because by eleven
+o’clock it will be too hot to travel.”
+
+In a moment more they were on the way, climbing the cliff and pushing
+up a gradual slope covered with rank tropical growth, steaming from the
+rain which had fallen upon it. For the greater part, the growth was of
+coarse grass, knee-high and more, but here and there were thick clumps
+of bushes, gorgeous with colored flowers and odd-looking berries, not a
+few of a poisonous nature. Still farther on was a heavy belt of stunted
+palms, with vines training in every direction, and here flitted, in
+surprise and terror at their appearance, wild pigeons, hornbills, as
+well as parrakeets, cockatoos, and other varieties of parrots.
+
+“My, but it’s hot!” murmured Larry, as they came to a rest under the
+palms. “And how everything does grow in these hot places!”
+
+“Yes, it grows, but a good bit of it is mighty coarse,” responded
+Striker. “Take that grass we’ve just come through, for instance. I
+don’t believe a horse or a cow would touch it any more than it would a
+lot of old chair canings.”
+
+“And just look at the bugs, and beetles, and ants, and lizards!” went
+on the boy, pointing to the ground and the rocks about them. “I don’t
+believe a fellow could pass a night here very comfortably.”
+
+“Not unless he slept in a tree, Larry――although I allow as it wouldn’t
+be no wuss nor some sailors’ boarding-houses I have put up at,” and
+Striker laughed heartily. “Come.” And on they went again.
+
+Before the top of the hill was gained they had to pass over a rocky
+stretch of lava formation. Here Striker pointed out the different
+strata of the flow.
+
+“This island is of volcanic origin, as the parson would put it,” he
+said, “but I reckon the last eruption was a long while ago, judgin’ by
+the trees. Perhaps we’ll run across the volcano crater somewhere up
+there at the top.”
+
+The top of the hill was not as regular as that upon the other island
+visited, and in order to get a view of their surroundings they were
+compelled to climb a palm tree. From here they could get a fair
+view of the ocean, and saw that the island was about three miles in
+diameter. The crater of the volcano lay just in front of them,――a
+ragged depression, its centre depths covered with thickly matted vines.
+
+“Looks like a big, round cake that went away up in the baking and then
+split just one side of the middle,” remarked Larry. “Do you suppose
+there is any bottom to that crater?”
+
+“To be sure, though there’s no telling how far down it is. I ain’t
+calkerlatin’ to investigate――not jest yet. Do you see anything of a hut
+or a village?”
+
+“Not a sign of any habitation.”
+
+“Neither do I.” The face of the sailor fell. “We might as well go round
+the crater and down behind it, and then, if we want to, we can walk
+along the shore.”
+
+The walk down the hill was easy, and they continued their progress even
+during the midday hour, although stopping numerous times to rest. They
+had almost gained the water’s edge again when Striker pulled Larry by
+the arm to attract his attention.
+
+“We’ll want something to eat soon, and I’m goin’ to have something
+besides fish if I can get it. Yonder is a flock of wild pigeons. We
+might take a shy at them with our clubs. Come on, as quietly as you
+can, and when I whistle let drive.”
+
+They crept forward side by side, to the spot the Yankee tar had pointed
+out. When within fifty feet of the birds Striker uttered a low whistle,
+at the same time letting his club whiz through the air. Both sticks
+flew true to the mark, and a tremendous fluttering followed. One of the
+pigeons was knocked dead and three others injured. Of the three, two
+were readily caught; the third got away among the trees.
+
+“Three birds; not half so bad,” cried Striker. The prizes were slung on
+a string over Larry’s back, and on they went again.
+
+Evening found the pair down at the seashore. They had skirted one half
+of the island without seeing the first sign of a human being. They
+were utterly worn out, and were only too glad to take it easy, kindle
+a fire, and cook the fish and the pigeons. The latter proved of rather
+a rank flavor, judged by the flesh of those eaten at home, yet neither
+complained.
+
+“I’ll have to be careful of my matches,” observed Striker, as they
+proceeded to make themselves comfortable for the night. “The six I
+have left won’t last forever. Let us see if we can’t keep the fire;”
+and he banked it up with some thick brushwood in such a fashion that it
+might burn slowly.
+
+The night was spent under the shelter of several dwarf palms which
+grew close to a rocky elevation overlooking the sea. All went well
+until nearly dawn, when Larry was suddenly awakened by the movement of
+something around him.
+
+“Hullo, Luke, what’s up?” he cried, when he caught sight of something
+between himself and the Yankee sailor. He made a savage kick, hitting
+some small animal in the side, and a shrill squeak followed. Striker
+was by this time awake, and both leaped to their feet.
+
+“A monkey, that’s all!” cried the tar. “Get out of here!” and he made
+a useless pass with his foot, for the monkey was already hopping off
+as fast as he was able. In the dim light they made out a score of the
+animals sitting around them in a circle. With a wild chatter the whole
+tribe rushed into the trees of the forest behind them and were lost to
+view, although their chatterings could be heard for a long while after.
+
+“They’ll come back sooner or later; their curiosity won’t let them
+keep away,” said Striker, after the excitement was over. “Reckon he
+scared you a bit, didn’t he?”
+
+“He did,” answered Larry. “I wonder if there are any very dangerous
+animals round?” he continued anxiously.
+
+“It’s not likely, on an island of this size. But you’ll find plenty of
+wildcats in the Philippines, and wild boars and buffalo――a different
+sort from those in our Western States. And then there are civets, an
+animal something like a cat, that some of the natives domesticate, and
+the wild parts are full of jackals, so I’ve heard, though I never seen
+none of ’em.”
+
+What to do was the next question. They had explored the island as
+thoroughly as they cared to do it, with but scant satisfaction. Not a
+single trace of human beings had come to light. They looked at each
+other soberly.
+
+“We are Crusoes, Luke,” said Larry, soberly, “and I don’t like it.”
+
+“Neither do I like it, lad. But what can we do? If we had tools, I
+might go in for rigging up a boat, or a raft, and setting some sort of
+sail for Luzon, but one can’t do much with a jack-knife.”
+
+Larry heaved a long sigh. “If only we could climb the tallest tree on
+the island and hang up a flag of distress,” he ventured. “I’d hang up
+the very shirt I’m wearing if I thought it would do any good.”
+
+“So would I, lad, but it’s only one chance in a thousand that any one
+would come along to see it. Let us look at it in a business light, as
+shore folks call it. Here we are and likely to stay for a good bit.
+Let us fix us up a shelter and fill our larder, if we can, and talk of
+what’s best to do afterwards.”
+
+So it was arranged, and the next morning they set to work to build a
+hut in the best spot to be found. Of course they could cut down no
+trees, so they built the hut among a clump of five palms, making the
+sides and top of brushwood, bound together with strong vines which grew
+in profusion close at hand.
+
+The finishing up of this place was entrusted to Larry, while Striker
+went off a whole day to “fill up the larder,” as he had expressed it.
+The Yankee tar was very successful, having brought down several birds
+with his club and caught a dozen fish with a line made of a string he
+was fortunate enough to find in his pocket. For a hook for this line
+he had used a sharp thorn tied, end up, to a tough twig, baiting the
+whole with a dazzling blue and yellow butterfly, butterflies being as
+numerous as were the ants and fireflies in the woods. In addition to
+this he had turned over one immense turtle he had found in the sun, not
+a tortoise-shell this time, but a more common looking creature which
+was, however, of good eating flavor.
+
+“The turtle I’ll put in a mud-hole somewhere,” he said. “And as long as
+we have him there will be no danger of our starving. I’d put some of
+the fish into another hole, only they are all dead. However, I’m sure
+we can get fish at any time.”
+
+
+
+
+                             CHAPTER XVIII
+
+                   THE ASIATIC SQUADRON TO THE RESCUE
+
+
+Two days had passed, and they had made themselves fairly comfortable
+on the island, when, on chancing to walk some distance up the shore in
+search of dry driftwood, Larry saw a sight that fairly made his heart
+stop beating.
+
+“Luke! Luke! come here, quick!” he cried, as soon as he could catch his
+breath. “Oh, what a find!”
+
+“What is it, Larry?” called back the Yankee sailor, and came running
+from the hut on the double-quick. “A boat, as sure as you’re born! Now
+ain’t we the lucky ones, though!”
+
+He was right; Larry had discovered a boat,――a heavy, cumbersome craft,
+such as old-time merchantmen were in the habit of carrying for trading
+purposes among the natives. The boat lay on her side, half in and half
+out of the water, and had evidently washed up on the beach the night
+before.
+
+[Illustration: THE BOAT LAY ON HER SIDE, HALF IN AND HALF OUT OF THE
+WATER]
+
+“It’s a godsend to us, lad,” went on Striker. “Come, let us pull her
+high and dry, before the waves have a chance to send her adrift. Why,
+look, she’s got a small mast, and hang me if the sail ain’t set! I
+reckon if she could spin her yarn it would be an interesting one.
+More than likely the men who manned her went down in one of those
+hurricanes, although she looks as if she’s been water-logged this many
+a day.”
+
+It was no easy matter to pull the boat in, but the find had raised
+their spirits wonderfully, and they worked with a will, and once the
+_Treasure_, as Larry christened her, was clear of the waves, Striker
+took the extra precaution to tie her soaked painter to the nearest palm.
+
+“We can’t afford to lose her nohow,” he said. “See, the sail seems to
+be in good condition, so is the stumpy mast, and I don’t believe she
+leaks in the least. With a stock of eatables on board we can sail in
+her to Luzon without half trying.”
+
+“Yes, but the eatables, Luke; how can we get them? Fish and birds won’t
+keep, and we’ll have to take some water along, and――”
+
+“You leave that to me, Larry. We know we can get all the fish and birds
+we want, and we can salt ’em, and cook ’em, and perhaps we can take
+some of the fish along alive, by putting them in some water in the
+bottom of the boat. As for the other eatables, we’ll skirmish around
+the island for cocoanuts,――which will give us eating and drinking,――and
+I think I saw a banana tree yesterday, and some wild onions; while as
+for water, I saw some bamboo on the hill, which is big and hollow, and
+one piece will hold at least half a pint of water, and can easily be
+corked up.”
+
+Larry could not help but gaze in admiration at the fellow, whose head
+was so full of resources. “You’re a real Yankee, and no mistake, Luke,”
+he laughed. “I believe if nothing but a plank had drifted in, you would
+have had a boat out of it by sundown. All right; I’m with you, and the
+sooner we are ready to set sail, the better it will suit me; for even
+if we have the luck to reach Luzon, we’ll still have the job of getting
+to Manila or some other big town and finding a ship to take us to Hong
+Kong.”
+
+From that moment on work went forward briskly, and while Larry spent
+his time in fishing and in hunting turtles, Striker hunted up the
+cocoanuts and other eatables he had mentioned. Yet the preparations
+for the trip took some time, and it was not until several days later
+that they were ready to embark.
+
+“Good-by to Lonely Island!” cried Larry, taking off the seaweed cap he
+still wore. “It served us well, yet I can’t say that I care to see its
+shores again.”
+
+“You’re right, lad; a Robinson Crusoe life is all well enough in books.
+Give me the deck of a stanch vessel, every time.”
+
+The _Treasure_ was run out across the reefs without great difficulty,
+and as soon as the single sail was hoisted, Striker set the course as
+he thought due south, although in reality, as it afterwards proved, his
+course was to the southwest, just a variation sufficient for him to
+miss the northwest extremity of Luzon.
+
+Two days and a night were passed upon the somewhat clumsy craft without
+anything of special interest happening. The weather and wind remained
+fair, and the only thing which bothered them was the fierce sun, which
+beat down as pitilessly as ever. Striker had thoughtfully thrown into
+the boat a number of broad palm leaves, and during the middle of the
+day they were glad enough to wet these and throw themselves under the
+shade to be had by setting the leaves up in the form of an inverted
+letter V――thus Λ――in the stern.
+
+As the sun went down upon the second day, Larry noticed Striker looking
+anxiously to the eastward. “Yes, I’m afraid we’re in for another
+storm,” said the Yankee, in reply to a question on that point. “How
+soon it will come there’s no telling. But it ain’t far off, and we’ll
+have to make the best of it.”
+
+The hurricane――for it was nothing less――came upon them at midnight,
+striking the _Treasure_ heavily and sending her prow into a very
+torrent of water. A large amount of the water was shipped, and both
+fell to bailing vigorously, knowing their very lives depended upon it.
+
+The storm lasted until daybreak, then cleared off as rapidly as it had
+come. But, alas! that storm had been the unmaking of the _Treasure_.
+The sail with its half-rotted ropes was gone, the boat had sprung a bad
+if not dangerous leak, and more than half of the drinking-water and
+eatables were gone.
+
+“It’s a sorry pickle, truly, Larry,” said Striker, soberly, as he
+surveyed the mischief, “and I don’t know which is the wust,――the leak
+or the loss of the provender,――but both are bad enough.”
+
+“The loss of the sail is the worst, I imagine,” answered the boy. “How
+are we to keep sailing without a sheet?”
+
+“That’s true; we’ll have to see what we can do with our shirts. But
+first let us go to work on that leak,” concluded Striker, and they
+started in before either had a mouthful of breakfast.
+
+Quarter of an hour later found them thoroughly alarmed. The leak was
+growing worse. In vain they tried to mend it. The _Treasure_ had been
+so strained by the storm she was scarcely able to hold together.
+Suddenly there was a cracking, and out went a plank of the bottom, and
+Larry found himself dropping down into the ocean. Then the clumsy craft
+turned over, carrying Striker with it.
+
+For several minutes there was a splutter and a struggle upon the part
+of man and boy to save themselves. At length Larry caught hold of the
+keel of the upturned boat and drew himself up. Soon Striker followed.
+
+“We’re in for it now, lad,” cried the Yankee, dolefully. “We made a
+bad miss when we left that island and trusted to such a rotten craft as
+this.”
+
+“I’d like to know how far we are from shore now,” said Larry. “All of
+our provisions have gone to the bottom.”
+
+“All but these,” answered the tar, holding up half a dozen of the
+bamboo stems filled with fresh water. “It’s not much to save, but a
+single drink of water may save our lives before we are done with this
+adventure.”
+
+There was but little to add in the way of talk after this. Both were
+too down-hearted to say much, and clung on in silence as the upturned
+boat drifted onward, and the rising sun mounted higher and higher in
+the tropical sky. Larry’s head was entirely unprotected, and by noon
+the sun’s rays seemed unbearable.
+
+“I must have a bit of water,” he said. “My tongue is like cotton, and
+my head feels as if it was ready to split open.”
+
+“We’ll divide the water in one of the sticks between us,” answered
+Striker; and this was done, and once again they relapsed into a moody,
+distressing silence. The glare of the sun on the water nearly blinded
+Larry, and often he closed his eyes.
+
+It was getting towards sundown when Striker uttered a sudden shout.
+
+“A boat! a steamship!”
+
+“Where?” ejaculated Larry, rousing up. “I can’t see anything,” he went
+on, as Striker pointed with his finger. “I see a bit of smoke, though.”
+
+“She is well down in the water and painted dark. I can see her quite
+plainly.”
+
+“Oh, yes, I see her now. Do you think she is coming this way?” was the
+boy’s next anxious question; then, before Striker could answer, he
+continued: “There is another steamer, over to the left! And there is
+another――or am I dreaming?”
+
+He pointed this way and that, and the Yankee sailor followed the
+indications eagerly.
+
+“There ain’t no mistake, Larry, they’re all there; and see, there’s
+another bit of smoke off to the north’ard. We must be right in the
+track o’ some reg’lar line, though what line I can’t imagine, nor
+why so many of the steamships should be out here at one time,” added
+Striker, in much perplexity.
+
+“I don’t care about that, if only one of them will come this way and
+pick us up.”
+
+“They are coming this way――as straight as a string,” cried Striker,
+after five minutes of painful suspense. “I can see all four of the
+vessels as plain as day, and――yes, there’s another! What in the world
+can this mean? Larry, if I was a drinking man, I would say I had ’em
+bad,” concluded the Yankee sailor, as he raised himself up as high as
+possible, his eyes meanwhile almost starting from his head.
+
+Another five minutes passed, and the vessels came closer, until they
+could readily see the black smoke pouring from their funnels. The five
+vessels were sweeping along in almost a semicircle, and now Striker
+declared he could see more smoke to the rear.
+
+“If only they see us!” cried Larry, in almost a pleading tone. “Can’t
+we wave something? I’ll try my jacket.” And he slipped the garment
+off, and proceeded to bestride the keel of the upturned _Treasure_. In
+a moment more Striker was beside him, and both waved their hands like
+demons.
+
+Boom! loud and clear over the sea sounded the dull discharge of a
+ship’s gun, and they saw the smoke float away from the nearest of the
+oncoming vessels.
+
+“It’s a man-o’-war, that’s what it is!” burst from Striker’s lips. “And
+it’s a whole fleet of ’em!”
+
+“Yes! yes! and we are saved!” cried Larry, hysterically. “That gun
+was surely meant for us.” They watched on for a few more minutes in
+silence. “Oh, Luke! see the stars and stripes! They are United States
+vessels, every one of them!”
+
+“You’re right, lad; they are our own Yankee ships, and we have fallen
+among friends. See, that big fellow is heading directly for us and
+intends to pick us up. This must be Commodore Dewey’s Asiatic Squadron.
+Hurrah for Uncle Sam! Hurrah!” And Striker cheered so lustily that the
+men on the approaching cruiser heard him quite plainly.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER XIX
+
+                      THE MISSION OF THE SQUADRON
+
+
+Striker was right; the war vessels approaching were the Asiatic
+Squadron of the United States Navy, and while the vessels are drawing
+closer to Larry and the Yankee tar, we will take a brief look at the
+noble craft which were so soon to engage in a battle to become world
+famous in history.
+
+The fighting ships were seven in number, consisting of four cruisers,
+the _Olympia_, _Baltimore_, _Boston_, and _Raleigh_, and three
+gunboats, the _Concord_, _Petrel_, and _McCulloch_. Added to these were
+two large vessels, the _Nanshan_ and the _Zafiro_, carrying between
+them 10,000 tons of coal for the fleet’s use.
+
+The largest of the ships was the _Olympia_, which was also the
+flagship. She was a fine specimen of the protected cruiser, of 5800
+tons, and carrying twenty-eight guns of good size. Her commander was
+Captain C. V. Gridley, and her executive officer Lieutenant C. P.
+Rees. It may be worth remembering that the _Olympia_ was the only ship
+which was protected by armor, and that armor was merely a band of
+four-inch steel around her turret guns――quite in contrast to numerous
+other armored vessels that carry steel plates about them from twelve to
+twenty inches thick.
+
+Next in size to the flagship came the cruiser _Baltimore_, of 4400
+tons, and carrying fourteen guns. She was commanded by Captain M. N.
+Dyer, with Lieutenant-Commander J. B. Biggs as executive officer.
+
+The third on the list of cruisers was the long and low-lying _Boston_,
+of 3000 tons, and ready to fight with ten splendid guns. Captain Frank
+Wildes was her commander, and Lieutenant J. A. Norris her executive
+officer.
+
+The quartette of cruisers came to an end with the _Raleigh_, of about
+the same tonnage as the _Boston_, and mounting eleven guns, only one of
+large size. The _Raleigh_ had just come all the way from New York to
+join the squadron, and was commanded by Captain J. B. Coughlan, with
+Lieutenant Frederic Singer as executive officer.
+
+Of the gunboats, the _Concord_ took the lead. She was a stanch
+three-master of 1700 tons, carrying eight guns and rifles, and was
+commanded by Captain Asa Walker.
+
+Next to the _Concord_ came the tiny but sprightly _Petrel_, of only
+900 tons, and carrying but four guns. Her commander was Captain E. P.
+Wood. The _Petrel_ looked almost too small to take part in a great
+battle, yet later on we will see her giving the best possible account
+of herself.
+
+The last on the list of the fleet was the gunboat _McCulloch_, which
+was not, strictly speaking, a fighting craft, but a revenue cutter,
+used for carrying despatches from one boat to another and to shore. The
+_McCulloch_ carried four light pieces, principally for defence, and was
+commanded by Captain Hobson, of the Revenue Marine Service.
+
+And now what had brought this squadron out in the middle of the
+South China Sea, to the great wonder and astonishment――not to say
+thankfulness――of Larry and his down-east friend? In order to answer
+that question we shall have to take a dip into history――a brief dip,
+and one that I trust will not tire even such of my boy readers as
+desire a story to move along “lively like.”
+
+We have already learned how the battleship _Maine_ was blown up in the
+harbor of Havana, Cuba, and also something of the condition of affairs
+in that ill-fated isle at that time: how the Spanish authorities had
+tried in vain for three years to put down the rebellion which was
+raging in every quarter, and how many American citizens were suffering
+because of this conflict. American capital amounting to millions of
+dollars was invested in Cuba, and this was rapidly being lost through
+the confiscation and destruction of property.
+
+Yet the American nation could stand the loss of property without waging
+war, hopeful that in the end Spain would make matters right. What
+worried the people was the cruelty practised by the Spanish authorities
+against the insurgents, and when in the halls of Congress it was openly
+declared that through Spanish misrule tens of thousands of Cuban
+men, women, and children were actually starving to death, the people
+everywhere cried out that this must stop, and if no other civilized
+nation would take a hand, the United States must step in alone and do
+the work.
+
+The climax of resentment against Spain came when the _Maine_ went
+down carrying two hundred and fifty-three of our gallant officers and
+sailors with her. The harbor of Havana was still supposed to be a
+friendly one, yet the vessel had gone to her total destruction there,
+although Spain denied that she was in any way to blame. I may as well
+add here that the _Maine_ and her equipment cost the nation four
+millions of dollars.
+
+The cry for war against Spain came from every quarter, yet the wiser
+heads said that we must go slowly, must be perfectly sure of what we
+were doing, so that other nations might have no cause to find fault
+with us when the opening blow was struck. A court of inquiry was
+organized to learn the absolute truth concerning the _Maine_, and at
+the same time Congress took up the question of assisting the Cubans by
+sending them relief ships loaded with food and clothing.
+
+While Larry was sailing the dreary wastes of the mighty Pacific, the
+climax was reached. The court of inquiry found that the _Maine_ had
+been blown up from the outside, probably by some sunken mine, fired by
+electricity. As the battleship had been given her place in the harbor
+by the Spanish harbor-master, the fact was evident that this official
+had placed her directly over the mine in question; so that Spain was
+responsible for the loss of our ship and our sailors, no matter if the
+mine had been fired without direct orders from headquarters.
+
+The way was now clear for what was to follow. Directly after the
+findings of the court of inquiry had been made public, President
+McKinley sent an address to Congress citing the condition of affairs in
+Cuba, adding that Spain had lost control, and that not even the ships
+of a friendly nation were safe in her harbors, and recommending that
+immediate action be taken.
+
+Action was taken by our Congress declaring that the people of Cuba
+were, and of a right ought to be, free and independent, and Spain was
+given a certain length of time in which to withdraw all her military
+and other forces from the island. At the same time it was avowed that
+the United States had no thought of taking Cuba for her own, but
+that she would protect the Cubans until they were capable of doing
+for themselves. Spain was given a set time in which to answer our
+ultimatum, as it was called, but instead of sending an answer she gave
+to our minister his passport, a virtual order to leave her domains, and
+this was equivalent to a declaration of war.
+
+In the mean time, in anticipation of a conflict, the navy had been
+active, adding a number of vessels to the list, and getting everything
+in readiness for a struggle, which people felt must take place largely
+upon the water. On April 21, when negotiations were broken off,
+the first of our fleets sailed for Cuba, and Havana was blockaded,
+the first aggressive movement of the war. Following this came the
+President’s call for 125,000 men to serve as volunteers in the United
+States Army, and later still, another call for 75,000 additional
+soldiers. All became bustle and excitement at once, and from every
+city, town, and village the brave soldier lads marched away, to gather
+at their respective State camps until mustered into the regular service
+of Uncle Sam.
+
+When the news of the destruction of the _Maine_ was flashed around the
+world by cable and telegraph, Commodore George Dewey, commanding the
+Asiatic Squadron, felt that war was close at hand, and to be prepared
+for whatever might come he began to gather around him in the bay of
+Hong Kong all his available vessels, and have them put in proper
+fighting trim. The men under him numbered not quite 1700, all brave and
+hardy to the core, as representative a lot of fighting seamen as could
+be found anywhere, as later events proved.
+
+Immediately after the war broke out the squadron was asked to leave
+Hong Kong, that being a neutral port, and took its way to Mirs
+Bay, some thirty miles away. At this place word was received by
+the commodore that he must find a Spanish fleet which was located
+somewhere in the Philippines and engage it. This meant a big battle,
+providing the Spanish ships could be found, not an easy task when it is
+considered that the islands number over a thousand, and that sheltered
+harbors are even more numerous. To find the fleet, and to be fully
+prepared to give it battle wherever and whenever found, was a task
+requiring a large amount of sagacity and wisdom.
+
+The ships left Mirs Bay on the afternoon of Wednesday, the 27th day of
+April, the _Olympia_ leading the van, with Commodore Dewey and Captain
+Gridley upon the bridge, the former viewing with a pleased eye his
+small but solid-looking squadron, every vessel of which shone forth
+stern and threatening in her war-paint of dark color.
+
+“They ought to win out in a battle, captain,” remarked the commodore,
+quietly. He was not a man of many words.
+
+“They will win out, commodore,” answered the captain of the _Olympia_,
+emphatically, “if only we can catch sight of Admiral Montojo and his
+ships. It’s my opinion the Spaniards will keep out of sight if it’s
+possible for them to do so. Montojo will live in hope that matters will
+be squared up at home before we have a chance to smash him.”
+
+“Don’t be too sure of it, Gridley; Montojo is as honest a fighter as
+the Spanish navy possesses. If we do come to an engagement, make up
+your mind that he will fight to the last deck.”
+
+The destination of the fleet was the island of Luzon, that being the
+most important of the Spanish holdings in the Philippines. It was the
+commodore’s determination to search all the bays and harbors of this
+island first, and if the Spanish warships were not found, to then
+proceed to the next territory.
+
+Once out into the China Sea, the squadron proceeded slowly; for while
+the larger ships could breast the waves with impunity, the tiny
+_Petrel_ was nearly engulfed, and the two coal-boats labored along
+under a strain that was actually perilous.
+
+Ever since the ships had been called together, gun and other drills had
+kept the men in perfect condition, but now, on the first night out, the
+commodore resolved to put his command to another test. The majority of
+the hands had retired for the night when the flagship signalled forth
+the command, “Prepare for action!”
+
+What a hurry and bustle ensued! Men came rolling from their hammocks
+and ran, but partly dressed, to their stations, bugles sounded over
+the waters, there came the rattle of chains and the rumble of heavy
+machinery, and in two minutes could be seen the dancing red and white
+light signals from this and that boat: “We are ready for action.”
+
+“That is as it should be,” said the commodore. He was greatly pleased,
+and felt more confident than ever of the men under him.
+
+It was on the day following that the lookout in the foretop announced a
+strange object in sight.
+
+“It looks like an upturned boat with two men clinging to it,” he called
+down to the officer of the deck. “It’s almost dead ahead.”
+
+Powerful glasses were turned upon the object, and Larry and Striker
+were made out long before they themselves knew that they were seen.
+
+As the _Olympia_ was steaming for the unfortunates there was no need to
+give directions to change her course. When it was seen that they were
+waving frantically with their hands and with a jacket, the commodore
+turned to the captain and ordered that a small gun be fired, “Just to
+let the poor chaps know we intend to pick them up,” he said.
+
+And that is how Larry Russell chanced to fall in with the Asiatic
+Squadron of the United States Navy, just previous to the wonderful
+engagement of which I am about to relate.
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER XX
+
+                    ON BOARD THE FLAGSHIP “OLYMPIA”
+
+
+It was not long before the great engines of the _Olympia_ came to a
+stop, the flagship slowed up, and from the starboard side a small boat
+was lowered, manned by a petty officer and a dozen bronzed jackies, as
+man-o’-war men are familiarly termed. The oars were straight up in the
+air, but at the word of command they fell into the ocean’s brine, and
+the boat set off for the unfortunates.
+
+“Boat ahoy!” shouted Striker, feebly, for previous cries had exhausted
+his wind. “You jest about come in the nick o’ time. We was thinkin’
+very seriously o’ engagin’ rooms in Davy Jones’ locker afore ye hove in
+sight.”
+
+A smile went the rounds of the sailors, but not a word was said, as
+it would have been against the rule. “Steady, men! a stroke more,”
+commanded the petty officer, and the small boat slowed up and sheered
+alongside of the upturned _Treasure_. “Are you two able to climb in?”
+he went on.
+
+“I reckon I am,” answered the Yankee sailor. “Larry, how is it?”
+
+For answer the youth slid from the keel of the _Treasure_, and grasped
+the gunwale of the _Olympia’s_ small boat. Willing hands helped him on
+board, and Striker followed.
+
+“You have done us a great service,” murmured Larry. “I was afraid we
+were gone.”
+
+“You look played out,” smiled the officer detailed to bring the pair
+in. “How did you chance to be wrecked?”
+
+“It’s a long story, sir. We were on board of the _Columbia_, a
+three-master bound from Honolulu to Hong Kong, and went overboard
+during a storm. We struck an island first and found that boat, and then
+set out to make Luzon――”
+
+“And the plagued craft went to pieces on us,” finished up Striker. “Am
+I right? is that the Asiatic Squadron under Commodore Dewey?”
+
+“It is.”
+
+“Then I reckon as two Americans, born and bred, we’ve fallen into jest
+about the right hands. It was a welcome sight to see the glorious
+stars and stripes, I can tell you that, sir. When I made you out to be
+warships, I was afraid we had run next to a lot of Chinese or Japanese
+craft. I ain’t got no use for thet sort o’ critter, sir.”
+
+“You might have done worse, man, than to fall in with the Chinese or
+Japanese,” laughed the petty officer, after he had given the necessary
+orders to take the small boat back to the warship. “Supposing you had
+fallen in with Admiral Montojo’s fleet?”
+
+“Montojo? Who is he?”
+
+“The Spanish admiral, in command of their men-o’-war in these waters.”
+
+Both Striker and Larry looked puzzled for a moment, then a quick flash
+lit up the boy’s dark eyes.
+
+“Has war been declared between the United States and Spain, sir?” he
+ejaculated.
+
+“It has.”
+
+“By the jumpin’ Christopher, ye don’t tell me!” roared Striker, his
+mouth open in amazement. “Real, genuine, live war?”
+
+“Well, we calculate to make it real, genuine, live war, if we can find
+Montojo’s fleet,” laughed the officer, much amused by the tall Yankee’s
+manner.
+
+“And are ye on his trail?”
+
+“I presume that is what you would call it, my man. And I don’t know but
+that you’ll have to go with us, under the circumstances,” went on the
+officer.
+
+There was no time to say more, for the small boat was now once more
+beside the flagship. The craft was attached to the davit-ropes and
+swung up and in, and a moment later Larry and Striker stood upon the
+main deck, confronted by Commodore Dewey and Captain Gridley. Finding
+themselves in the presence of the two commanders, Striker immediately
+saluted in true naval style, and Larry followed suit, not a little awed
+by finding himself confronted by so much marine pomp, for the commodore
+believed in thoroughness in naval appearance as well as in efficacy. On
+looking at the Yankee, the commodore’s face showed a slight trace of
+surprise.
+
+“Hullo, my man! I think I’ve seen you before,” he said.
+
+“That you have, commodore,” replied the Yankee tar, much pleased at
+even a partial recognition. “I was sayin’ to myself, in coming over in
+the gig, that if this was Commodore Dewey’s squadron, an’ the commodore
+himself was with the fleet, he wouldn’t forget Luke Striker, as served
+under him on board of the _Pensacola_, in European waters, about twelve
+years ago. I was gunner’s mate at that time, and when coal bunker No. 3
+took fire――” Striker paused.
+
+“Yes, yes, I remember you now, Striker. You took the place of the
+hoseman who was off duty, and crawled into the bunker at the risk of
+your life. I haven’t forgotten that brave deed, and I’m glad, at this
+late day, to do you a service,” and the commodore took the tar’s hand
+and shook it heartily. “So you’ve been wrecked, and this lad with you?
+You both look worn, and those wet clothes are not as comfortable as dry
+ones will be.” The commodore turned to Captain Gridley: “Captain, will
+you have them taken care of? and then I’ll talk to them in my cabin. We
+will resume our course,” and the commodore turned away.
+
+In a minute more Larry and Striker had been turned over to a sergeant
+of marines, who took them below to the clothing lockers, and managed to
+fit them out in the uniforms of ordinary seamen. While this was going
+on, word was passed to the big galley, and by the time the pair were
+ready for it a steaming dinner awaited them in the mess-room. It is
+doubtless unnecessary to say that to the repast thus afforded, the boy
+and his down-east friend did ample justice. Indeed, Striker declared
+that never had victuals tasted better, and ate so much of the rice
+pudding and drank such a quantity of the black coffee that he found it
+necessary to let out one catch in the belt about his waist.
+
+The officer of marines detailed to look after them was a whole-souled
+fellow, and as they ate, he readily gave them all the information at
+his command respecting the cruiser and her destination. Both Larry and
+Striker listened with keen interest.
+
+“You see,” went on the sergeant, in the course of his talk, “we are
+really going to do more than smash the Spanish fleet, or take a try at
+it. Spain owns the Philippines, and as she has chosen to go to war,
+why, it’s no more than right that we should endeavor to capture the
+islands.”
+
+“But will that be fair?” questioned Larry. “I thought the trouble was
+all on account of Cuba.”
+
+“So it is; but in war one side lays hands on everything it can find
+belonging to the other,” laughed the sergeant, who rejoiced in the
+peculiar name of Joe Joster. “If we can do the trick, we’ll bottle up
+that Spanish fleet first, then capture the Philippines, and then go for
+the Caroline Islands.”
+
+“Bottling up that fleet may not be sech an easy task,” observed
+Striker, helping himself to another bowl of coffee, the fourth. “How
+many ships do ye calculate this here Admiral What’s-his-name has?”
+
+“Montojo has not less than eight or ten.”
+
+“And we have how many?”
+
+“Seven, all told.”
+
+Striker shook his head. “That don’t figure right――exceptin’ our ships
+outclass ’em. Everything else being ekel, it stands to reason the side
+with the most ships has got the best show. Ain’t that accordin’ to
+’rithmetic, Larry?”
+
+“I suppose it is, Luke; but then our brave American tars――”
+
+“Will do the trick,” finished Sergeant Joster. “That is what we are
+playing on. Roughly estimated, I think the two fleets carry about the
+same number of guns and the same number of men, although some think
+the Dons have more men than we have. But if we Americans keep up our
+reputation, we have nothing to fear, though, of course, the scrap won’t
+be exactly a picnic.”
+
+“That officer in the small boat said we might have to remain on board
+of the _Olympia_,” said Larry. “If that is so, we are bound to take
+part in whatever occurs, whether we want to or not.”
+
+“I should think any American lad would be glad to take part,” rejoined
+the sergeant, quickly. “If we defeat that fleet, it will be a great
+glory to us, and if we don’t――well, a man can die but once, you know.”
+
+“I am willing enough to stay,” answered the boy. “But I should like
+to know what has become of the _Columbia_,” he added soberly, as he
+thought of the sturdy schooner staggering under the hurricane and
+struck by lightning, with Captain Ponsberry, Grandon, Mr. Wells, and
+his other friends aboard.
+
+“Yes, lad, I’d like to know that myself,” put in Striker. “And I should
+like to meet that furiner again. It’s a pity he ain’t a Spaniard, and
+on board one of them ships we’re after.”
+
+Sergeant Joster was curious to hear their story, and as they had been
+treated so well by the marine, they did not hesitate to tell him.
+
+“You are lucky dogs to escape being drowned,” he said, when they had
+concluded. “Ninety-nine men out of a hundred would have gone down. That
+Olan Oleson ought to be strung up on a yard-arm, and he would be on
+most vessels. In the navy a man would be shot for a good deal less than
+he’s done.”
+
+“The _Columbia_ is going to remain in Hong Kong for several weeks――that
+is, if she got there at all,” said Larry. “Perhaps the fleet will go
+back before that time.”
+
+“There is no telling where we are to go to, lad. The Spaniards may lead
+us a long chase, and the commodore is not one to give up until he has
+accomplished his mission.”
+
+“You are right there,” said Striker, nodding vigorously, as he
+swallowed his last mouthful of pudding. “I knowed him as a captain
+before he came out here, and he is just the commander for the work they
+cut out for him in these parts.” He turned to Larry. “How is it――full?”
+
+“Yes, and waiting for you.”
+
+“Then we won’t keep the commodore waitin’――’tain’t manners nohow. Jest
+show the way, sergeant, and we’ll be on your heels.”
+
+In a few minutes more they were at the after-cabin of the _Olympia_.
+Here they had to wait a quarter of an hour, for Commodore Dewey was in
+consultation with several other officers. At length the officers took
+their departure, and they were told to go in.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER XXI
+
+                    SOMETHING ABOUT COMMODORE DEWEY
+
+
+Larry found Commodore Dewey a well-built and well-preserved man of
+sixty, with black, piercing eyes, and hair and mustache which had once
+been dark but which were now tinged with gray. The face was a stern but
+kind one, and the boy had not been in the commander’s presence more
+than a few minutes before he felt at home in spite of the difference in
+their respective positions.
+
+As the commodore, afterwards admiral, is to play such an important part
+in the future course of our story, it will not be amiss to ascertain a
+few facts concerning his past career,――a career full of dash, fire, “I
+will,” and patriotism.
+
+The future commander of the seas was born in the town of Montpelier,
+Vermont, on December 26, 1837. He was the son of Doctor Julius Dewey, a
+man who fought his own way into the world, first by teaching school to
+earn enough to take a course in medicine, and then by earnest efforts
+to help not only himself but those around him. The doctor was the
+founder of the Christ Episcopal Church of Montpelier, and a man of deep
+religious convictions.
+
+When George Dewey was but five years old he lost his mother, as tender
+and true a parent as ever boy had, and henceforth his companions of
+the household were his sister Mary, two years his junior, and his
+father. He lived in a modest cottage on a side street, and the Onion
+River swept through the fields in the back. It is on record that George
+Dewey, barefooted and ofttimes hatless, loved to play in and around
+that stream, and who knows but that there his first naval battles were
+fought, with rude wooden boats of his own jack-knife designing?
+
+When the proper time came the boy was sent to the village school, a
+bare enough place, with stiff wooden benches and rough desks, upon
+more than one of which he surreptitiously carved the initials G. D.,
+and received for this what was considered, in those days of the
+ever-present birch rod, his just reward.
+
+Whether it be a good or bad trait, it is said that the schoolboy
+was of rather a quick temper, and if anything went wrong he was for
+settling the dispute with his fists, and it is further related that he
+was generally victorious in his battles. Thus was the man’s natural
+fighting nature shown from the start, but lest some of my young
+readers take this as a justification to “pitch in” at the slightest
+provocation, let me add that George Dewey was never known to fight
+unless he was positive in his own mind that he was in the right.
+
+From his home school, the lad was sent, at the age of fifteen, to a
+Military Academy at Norwich, in his native State. Here he was for the
+first time brought into contact with things military, and he had not
+been at the Academy long before he wrote home that he should like to
+go to either West Point or Annapolis, with a preference for Annapolis.
+This communication caused his father much worry, for the doctor had
+hoped that the boy would take up the study of either medicine, the law,
+or the ministry. But the parent believed in letting his son choose his
+own future, and so he consented to George’s wishes.
+
+To get into either West Point or Annapolis is, as most boys must know,
+no easy matter, appointments being made either by United States
+senators or by the President. For a long while the lad tried in vain,
+but at last he was chosen as alternate to another boy. The other boy,
+when the time came, failed to appear for examination, and George Dewey
+was duly appointed.
+
+At the Naval Academy it was found that the boy made a bright student,
+but that he had brought his old-time quickness of temper with him.
+There was a line drawn between the boys from the South and those from
+the North, and George was singled out as a butt for the Southern boys’
+jokes. It can be imagined that he stood this only for a short while.
+The battles that followed were short, sharp, and decisive, and after
+that the newcomer was left alone, although before the class graduated
+many of those who had been his enemies became Dewey’s warmest friends.
+
+The graduation at the Naval Academy was a trying affair, how trying my
+young readers will understand when I state that only fourteen out of a
+class of over sixty received their diplomas. Of those who passed George
+Dewey stood fifth――showing that he could do something else besides
+taking his own part.
+
+As a midshipman the young man was assigned to the _Wabash_, and spent
+two years cruising in the Mediterranean, visiting at the same time many
+places of interest, including the Holy Land. He returned to Annapolis,
+to receive his final examination, in which he won third place, and then
+returned to his native home.
+
+When Dewey was twenty-three years old the great Civil War broke
+out, and he was assigned a lieutenancy on board of the steam sloop
+_Mississippi_, of the West Gulf Squadron, a noble fleet of vessels
+commanded by Admiral Farragut. The first work of the fleet was to
+attempt to reach New Orleans by running past the formidable batteries
+near the entrance to the Mississippi River, and then by engaging the
+fleet beyond. This was a tremendous task, and for seven days our young
+lieutenant was subjected to the hottest kind of fire, which, as it was
+afterwards stated, he endured like a veteran. He himself is reported
+to have told a fellow-officer that he never enjoyed anything so much
+in his life. It was during this engagement that, as executive officer,
+he gave the quick commands which enabled the _Mississippi_ to fire a
+broadside into the ram _Manassas_ and sink her. A year later found
+Dewey again on the great river, and this time his craft ran aground
+directly in front of the Port Hudson battery and had to be abandoned.
+The task of getting the sailors off in safety under a galling fire was
+a perilous one, but the brave lieutenant commander remained aboard
+until no one but his captain and himself were left.
+
+After the loss of the _Mississippi_, the future admiral was assigned
+to one of Farragut’s gunboats, and fought at Donaldsonville, and
+from there he took part in the bombardment of Fort Fisher, acting
+as lieutenant on the _Colorado_, and it was here that he aided so
+vigorously in a rush in shore to silence a part of the enemy’s works
+that he gained a special mention for bravery.
+
+It was in 1870 that he received his first command as captain of the
+_Narragansett_. He was now a married man, having one son; and two years
+later the one great cloud of his life came, in the loss of his beloved
+wife. From the _Narragansett_ the captain was transferred to serve on
+the United States Lighthouse Board, an exacting office which he filled
+to the satisfaction of all. From here he went to the Asiatic Squadron,
+and received full command of the _Dolphin_, one of the first vessels
+belonging to what has since been known as the famous White Squadron,
+because during the times of peace these great ships are all painted
+pure white. When war is declared, every warship is painted some dark
+color, usually a brown-green or gray or black.
+
+Leaving the _Dolphin_, the energetic captain next took charge of the
+_Pensacola_, the flagship of the European Squadron, and it was on this
+vessel that Striker served under him. Never was a captain more beloved
+by his men than was Dewey, although he was strict and made every one
+under him “toe the mark.” One thing he could not abide, and that was
+sullenness. An anecdote which is vouched for will not come amiss,
+to show the character of the commander as well as to illustrate the
+strictness of discipline on board of a man-o’-war.
+
+While in command of the _Dolphin_, the lieutenant came to Dewey and
+told him that there was a paymaster’s assistant on board who had
+refused to obey a certain order given to him, his reason being that
+it was outside of his line of duty. The black eyes of the commander
+snapped fire.
+
+“Where is he?” he asked.
+
+“On the main-deck, sir.”
+
+“Have you tried argument with him?”
+
+“I have, sir, for ten minutes.”
+
+The commander said no more, but stalked to the quarter mentioned, where
+he found the man sulking against the mast. Going up quietly, he caught
+the fellow by the shoulder.
+
+“You have refused to obey such-and-such an order,” he said, mentioning
+the order in question.
+
+“It ain’t in my line of duty,” grumbled the paymaster’s assistant.
+
+Again the eyes of the commander flashed fire, but he kept his temper.
+“I have been in the navy for twenty-six years, and have made naval
+affairs the study of my life. I tell you that it is the duty of every
+man to obey the orders of his superior officers. Do you intend to obey?”
+
+The eyes of the man dropped, and he shifted his feet uneasily. “It
+ain’t in the line of my duty――I didn’t enlist for it,” he muttered
+doggedly.
+
+Without waiting a moment, Captain Dewey turned to the corporal standing
+by.
+
+“Call the guard,” he said briefly. “Order them to load with ball.”
+
+The necessary orders were given, there was a scurry of feet and a
+clicking of rifles, and a line of marines were drawn up on one side of
+the deck, while the man who would not obey orders was marched to the
+other.
+
+“In refusing to obey orders you are guilty of mutiny,” said the
+commander, sternly. “The penalty of mutiny on the high seas is death.
+If that order is not obeyed inside of five minutes, I will order the
+marines to fire upon you.”
+
+The man turned white and began to tremble. Dewey calmly took out his
+watch and counted off the minutes, “One――two――three――four――”
+
+“Stop――don’t shoot――I’ll obey!” cried the sullen one, and rushed off to
+do as bidden. It took him a week to get over his fright, but in the end
+there was no better hand on board of that ship, nor one that thought
+any more of the “old man,” as a commander is familiarly termed.
+
+After a term upon the _Dolphin_, Dewey returned to the Lighthouse Board
+and was connected with the Pacific Coast Survey. It was at this time
+that he was promoted to be a commodore. On the first of the year which
+was to see the breaking out of our war with Spain, the commodore was
+assigned once more to the Asiatic Squadron, and he made, as my readers
+already know, the _Olympia_ his flagship.
+
+And now, with this rather long, but, I trust, interesting introduction,
+we will join him in his cabin, where he is interviewing Larry and our
+down-east friend, Striker.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER XXII
+
+  IN WHICH LARRY AND STRIKER ARE ADDED TO THE “OLYMPIA’S” MUSTER-ROLL
+
+
+“Now tell me your tale, but you must be brief,” said the commodore,
+after surveying the pair critically, to see if his order to fit them
+out properly had been obeyed.
+
+The cabin table before him was piled high with charts, over which he
+and the other officers that had just left had been poring, and as Larry
+and Striker told their story, Commodore Dewey continued to examine the
+big sheets and make notes on a pad at hand. It was one of the Yankee
+“knacks” of the commander to be able to do several things at the same
+time. Larry was at first afraid that he was not listening, but he soon
+found out his mistake, as the officer asked him several questions
+bearing on points he had omitted or not made sufficiently plain.
+
+“You have both had a hard time of it, no doubt,” said Commodore Dewey,
+when the recital was brought to a close. “I should like to aid you in
+getting back to your ship if she has managed to reach Hong Kong,
+which seems doubtful, but I don’t see what I can do unless we speak
+some vessel bound for that port. Do you know our mission in these
+waters?”
+
+“Yes, commodore, we jest larned it,” answered Striker, with a knowing
+nod of his lean head. “And, commodore, it’s jest come into my mind to
+ask ye a favor,” he went on, earnestly.
+
+[Illustration: COMMODORE, IT’S JEST COME INTO MY MIND TO ASK YE A FAVOR]
+
+“Well?”
+
+“Ye know how I stood in the rank o’ gunners――leas’wise ye can soon find
+out by the record. Let me stay aboard this ship with ye an’ help wipe
+them Spanish garlic-eaters off the face of the earth! Maybe ye ain’t
+got no opening aboard now, but I reckon there will be openings enough
+after the fightin’ begins.”
+
+At this earnest and original speech the commodore smiled. “You can stay
+if you wish, Striker, and I was going to offer you the chance, seeing
+that we are short a few men. I remember you were among the gunners,
+and it is such a position you shall fill, if you can arrange it with
+Captain Gridley. But what of you, my lad?” and the commander of the
+squadron turned to Larry.
+
+For the past half hour the boy’s thoughts had been similar to those of
+his down-east friend. Everything about the warship pleased him, and to
+behold the glorious stars and stripes floating over such a well-trained
+body of American tars filled his heart with patriotism. Then, too,
+he remembered what his brothers had written, that if war came, one
+intended to enter the navy and the other the army. Here was his chance
+to jump into active duty for his beloved country. Should he let such a
+chance slip by?
+
+“I, too, will remain on board, if you will have me,” he said, his clear
+eyes gazing fully into those which were turned upon him as if to read
+his very thoughts. “I have two brothers in the States who said they
+would go into service if there was a call to arms. I have never been on
+a man-o’-war before, but I am willing to learn my duty, and I’ll fight
+for all I am worth, if I’m called on to do it.”
+
+“Good! That’s the kind of talk I like to hear, Russell. The man who is
+willing to do his whole duty――to do exactly as he is told to do――is the
+man we are after. To be sure, you are rather young for regular service,
+but, considering the manner in which you came on board, we’ll not
+let that count against you. I suppose you would like to remain with
+Striker.”
+
+“Yes, sir――everybody else on board being a stranger.”
+
+“We’ll try to fix it up. And that being settled, we’ll not be on the
+lookout for any ship to take you to Hong Kong for the present.” The
+commodore raised his voice and called the guard at the companionway.
+“Ask Captain Gridley to step in,” he continued.
+
+The word was passed, and soon the captain of the _Olympia_ appeared,
+and the situation was explained to him. Being short of a few men, as
+Commodore Dewey had said, he gladly accepted Larry and Striker, and
+added their names to the muster-roll, to serve until discharged or
+until the end of the trip. This finished, the pair were turned over to
+the officer of the deck, who in his turn passed them to the chief of
+the gunners.
+
+“Well, you’re a full-fledged son o’ Uncle Sam now, Larry,” remarked
+Striker, after the pair had been assigned to their positions at one
+of the side guns, and been put through a strict drill lasting over an
+hour. “How do you feel?”
+
+“I feel a good deal like the cat that strayed in a strange garret,”
+laughed the boy, just a bit nervously, for the sight of such big guns,
+and so much powder and shell awed him. “Not much woodwork around here.”
+
+“Woodwork wouldn’t do, if it came to a real battle,” answered the
+Yankee, “for a good shot would fill every man around with splinters.
+When we clear the ship for action, you’ll see ’most everything that’s
+made of wood and movable heaved overboard. Even the men’s ditty boxes
+will have to go, and then they’ll be no richer than we are,” he added;
+the ditty boxes being, let me add, the chests in which the tars keep
+their odds-and-ends of belongings.
+
+Larry was tired, but scarcely hungry again when the call sounded for
+supper. Yet he and Striker joined the gunners’ mess, to which they
+received a warm welcome, for Uncle Sam’s Jack Tars are at all times a
+“hail-and-well-met” sort of men.
+
+Even “mess gear,” as it is termed, was a good deal of a revelation to
+Larry, so different was it from the eating hour on a merchantman. He
+learned that all the meals from that of the commodore down were cooked
+in the one big galley, presided over by a dozen or more cooks, but that
+separate messes were numerous, the commodore and the captain being
+entitled by rule to dine alone, and the senior and junior officers
+also dining separately, in the ward-room. Of the others on the warship,
+the boatswain, gunners, carpenters, and sail-makers had an apartment to
+themselves, and so had the marines and the firemen and engineers.
+
+The queerest part of the proceedings, to the boy, was the fact that
+the jackies furnished most of their own eatables and chose their own
+cook, sometimes one of their own number. Uncle Sam allowed them the sum
+of thirty cents per day for food, and this amount had been put to the
+best possible use through money advanced before leaving port. In the
+American navy even an admiral pays for his own meals, although, to be
+sure, his salary is such that he can well afford to do so.
+
+Larry found his mess-room on the _Olympia_ a long, narrow place,
+ventilated as freely as the construction of the warship allowed. The
+table had been swung to the ceiling, but was now let down, and a
+“striker,” that is, a cook’s helper, attached the benches. The boy was
+furnished with a porcelain plate and cup, and an iron fork, knife, and
+spoon. For supper that evening the bill of fare was coffee, bread and
+butter, stewed fruit, and a bit of fresh meat.
+
+“It’s a mistake to think the jackies don’t live well,” observed
+Striker, when they were finishing up and some of the men had already
+drawn their pipes, for the hour after the last meal of the day was
+“smoking lamp” time. “The lads know how to make their allowance go as
+far as anybody, and they make the cooks do the best possible with all
+victuals as comes aboard. To be sure, on a long trip we’ll git salt
+hoss and pilot crackers putty often, but that can’t be helped on any
+ship, as ye know.”
+
+The “smoking lamp” just mentioned is a peculiarity of the navy. On
+account of the explosives aboard it is strictly prohibited to carry
+matches. So to light their pipes during the time they are allowed to
+smoke the men have a covered lamp lit for them, the cover having a
+small hole in it through which pipes can be lit.
+
+Usually, the time after supper belongs to the men, to do with as they
+please. Some read, if they are fortunate enough to have any literature
+with them, others play banjos and accordions, some dance jigs, and
+not a few gather in groups to talk and spin yarns. At half-past seven
+“hammocks” is sounded, and then the men can retire if they desire. If
+they wish to remain up, they can do so for two hours longer, when
+“pipe down” echoes through the warship, all the lights excepting those
+which must be kept lit are turned off, and the official day comes to an
+end.
+
+But this night was Thursday, and the _Olympia_ was the flagship of the
+fleet, carrying the marine band of about twenty pieces. Thursday had
+always been concert night, and now, to put his men in good spirits,
+Commodore Dewey ordered the bandmaster to give them nothing but
+patriotic airs, and this Bandmaster Valifuoco did, starting with those
+songs which were particularly popular during the Civil War, and ending
+up with Yankee Doodle and the Star-Spangled Banner. As the latter song
+rolled out upon the balmy evening air, the men could not resist the
+temptation to join in with their lusty and deep voices, and the sound
+wafted across the sea to the other ships, until the sailors everywhere
+were singing as never before.
+
+“That’s the song of all songs,” cried Larry, when it was all over. “I
+never heard anything so grand before. Why, that ought to make a brave
+man of the worst coward on board! Hurrah for Old Glory!”
+
+Utterly worn out with all that had occurred, Larry and Striker sought
+the hammocks assigned to them immediately after the concert was over
+and slept “like logs,” to use the lad’s way of expressing it. So tired
+was the boy that he did not even dream, nor hear the many noises around
+him, such as the pounding of the water against the warship’s prow as
+she kept steadily on her course, or the rattle of the heavy chains as
+the _Olympia_ rose and fell on the long swells.
+
+On deck there was a busy time among the petty officers, for a
+signal-light and a search-light drill were in progress. The great
+search-light flashed hither and thither over the dark green waters and
+over the other ships of the squadron. A sharp lookout was kept for the
+possible appearance of the enemy, the men in the tops having their
+night glasses continually in use. But the Spanish fleet did not show
+itself, and for the time being all went well.
+
+
+
+
+                             CHAPTER XXIII
+
+                  GUN DRILLS AND LIFE ON A MAN-O’-WAR
+
+
+Toot, toot! Toot, toot! Toot, toot-a-root toot!
+
+It was the loud blare of a bugle which aroused Larry at exactly five
+o’clock on the following morning. For the moment on awakening he
+opened his eyes and stared around him. Where was he? Surely not on the
+deserted island, nor even in the dingy forecastle of the _Columbia_.
+
+“Lively, lad!” shouted Striker, leaping from his hammock. “Lively,
+I say, or you’ll hear from the master-at-arms! You’ve got jest six
+minutes in which to dress yourself, roll up your hammock, and stow it
+away in the netting.”
+
+“All right, Luke, I’m with you!” answered the youth, now wide awake.
+With a turn he was out on the floor. “Dressing won’t take me long, with
+nothing but a shirt and a pair of trousers to take care of. My, but I
+feel quite like myself again, don’t you?”
+
+“Aye, aye, Larry; the sleep did us both a power of good, I guess.
+Watch me put my hammock up, and you’ll have the trick in a jiffy. Now,
+then, there you are. Now roll up your trousers, for washing down decks
+on a man-o’-war is no play-work.”
+
+The officer of the deck was on hand, himself in bare feet like the men,
+and now the word was passed to the boatswain’s mate that all was ready.
+The word travelled to the engineer below, and presently the pumps
+began to work, sending heavy streams of sea-water through the various
+stretches of hose lying about, and then commenced the daily task of
+washing down.
+
+Had it not been for Striker, Larry would have been bewildered, but the
+tall Yankee knew exactly where to take hold, and made Larry go with
+him. “Everything is divided up,” said Striker. “We’ll have to attend
+to our corner of the ship and nothing else. It’s jest like you had an
+apartment in one of them big flat houses ashore. Don’t bother your
+neighbor, an’ don’t let him bother you, and you’ll get along fust-rate.”
+
+The washing-down process lasted an hour, and by that time the _Olympia_
+was as clean as a whistle from stem to stern. After this, half an hour
+was allowed in which to prepare for breakfast.
+
+“You can spruce up now, or after you have had your grub,” said Striker.
+“I’d rather spruce up afterwards, for you might have an accident at the
+table if the _Olympia_ should happen to give an extra heavy roll, and
+you want to keep that new suit mighty clean, or the division officer
+will be after you, especially on a ship that is carryin’ Commodore
+Dewey. You can go it a bit slack on some other craft, but it won’t do
+on a flagship――which is the model for all.”
+
+It was nearly nine o’clock when quarters sounded throughout the big
+ship. Again Larry looked at Striker inquiringly.
+
+“Roll call, my lad――what I told you to spruce up for. Come ahead,” and
+with this reply Striker led the way to the main deck, where sailors,
+gunners, marines, and others were arranging themselves in long lines,
+to answer to their names, and to pass inspection by their captain,
+while Commodore Dewey stood on the bridge above, looking on.
+
+After quarters had reached an end, and while Larry was wondering what
+would come next, it was announced that a gun drill would be had, and
+for nearly two hours they were kept at it below decks, working the
+monster to which they had been attached, going through the motions of
+loading, sighting, and firing. Larry went through all these movements
+with the rest; for although it was not likely that he would be called
+on to sight the piece, a delicate operation, or to fire it, yet it was
+deemed necessary that he should know something of how these things were
+done, in case those on the gun who were his superiors should be killed
+or disabled.
+
+“Gracious, but it’s hot work!” exclaimed Larry, when the arduous drill
+had come to an end. “It seems to me the gunners get the worst of it.”
+
+“We don’t get any more of a dose than do the other men, lad,” returned
+Striker. “Away down under us, where it’s hotter twice over nor here,
+the engineers are a-workin’ over their boilers to keep up steam, and
+the firemen and coal-heavers are workin’ harder than ever you dreamed
+on, shovellin’ coal and rakin’ down the fires, and if you’ll take a
+peep on deck you’ll find the marines hard at it, with their monkey
+drill, or sword exercise, or something like that. It’s one of the
+rules aboard a warship to keep Jack a-going, and the rule gets broken
+precious seldom.”
+
+“But how can they keep us going all the time, if there is no fight on?”
+persisted Larry.
+
+“You’re green, lad, even if ye have sailed in a merchantman and know
+all the ropes from the fore-royal-stay to the topping-lift,” answered
+the down-east sailor, with a good-natured laugh, for with the deck
+of a warship once more beneath him he was in his element. “There are
+drills enough alone to keep a man hustling from sunrise to sunset, as
+you’ll find out if you remain on the _Olympia_ long enough. Fust comes
+the drills on the guns, big and little――one of which we have just had.
+Then comes the sinking ship drill, with closing up the water-tight
+compartments, and afterwards provisioning the small boats and leaving
+the ship in a big haste but in perfect order. Another drill is the fire
+drill, with the hose and the hooked poles and sech; and another the
+‘repel boarders,’ though they don’t have boarders to repel like they
+use to; and another is the target practice with pistols and rifles; and
+then there is hospital work, and learning how to tie knots as they are
+tied in the navy, and a lot more which I can’t remember jest now, but
+which will drift along some day or another when you least expect it.”
+
+“Well, it’s certainly a wonderful life,――a good deal different from
+what I expected, Luke. The _Olympia_ doesn’t seem like a ship to me;
+she is more of a floating fort.”
+
+“And that is what all naval vessels are now, lad――floating forts, or
+fighting machines, as some call ’em. They don’t float because they have
+the wood to keep ’em up, but because their metal sides keep out jest so
+much water. Make a good hole in a warship’s side, and she’ll drop to
+Davy Jones’ locker as quick as a lump o’ lead――that is, unless some of
+the water-tight compartments that are closed keep her afloat.”
+
+Striker was right; there was plenty to do, even with no enemy in sight,
+and as the fleet swept on straight for the island of Luzon, Larry found
+the time passing swiftly. He was one, as we know, to make friends
+quickly, and soon he was on the best of terms with half a dozen members
+of the gun crews.
+
+“You’ll get into it, my boy, and make a good one,” said Barrow, the
+head gunner of the piece to which he and Striker had been assigned. “I
+can see it by the cut of your jib. You’re no land-lubber, even if you
+are a bit green around here.” And he willingly gave both Striker and
+Larry “points” about the gun, which was as new to the down-east tar
+as it was to the boy, for guns are being improved constantly, and the
+present piece was of a different pattern from that which Striker had
+helped to manage on the _Pensacola_.
+
+By the talk of several petty officers Larry learned that it was
+expected they would sight the western coast of Luzon inside of the next
+twenty-four hours, and one of the officers added, that, if the Spanish
+fleet was where it was supposed to be, there would be hot fighting
+before the week was out.
+
+“I imagine it will be rather hot fighting,” said the boy to Striker.
+“Phew! the thermometer must be over a hundred in the shade, already!”
+
+“We’ve struck a calm, and that is what makes it so uncomfortable,”
+answered the down-easter. “We’re sure to have smooth weather after sech
+a lot o’ hurricanes as we had afore we were picked up.”
+
+It was indeed hot, and during the middle of the day the men were
+permitted to take it rather more easily than usual. After the drill at
+the guns Larry took the chance to bathe and felt much better for it.
+
+The remainder of the day passed without special incident, although it
+was easy to observe as the warship drew closer to the land under the
+flag of the enemy that the officers and some of the men were under a
+strong mental tension. Heretofore the vessels had been sailing somewhat
+far apart, but as night came on they bunched up, and a closer watch
+than ever was kept.
+
+“You see,” explained Striker, when he and Larry were discussing the
+closing up of the squadron, “we haven’t but one small boat――the
+_Petrel_――to do the scouting for us, and it may be the Spaniards are on
+the watch for us, and if they catch sight of us, they may send out a
+torpedo boat after dark to blow one of our vessels sky-high. A torpedo
+boat is a pesky little thing that is hard to spot in the dark and still
+harder to get out of the way of. The only thing to do is to spot it in
+time and give it a few good, heavy shots.”
+
+It was on Saturday morning that land was sighted dead ahead――a long,
+low coast line, backed up by an indefinite series of hills. At once the
+fleet was signalled to halt, and each vessel began the preparations for
+that battle which every man felt was bound to come sooner or later.
+
+To a landsman the preparations would have looked very much like
+the frantic efforts of a lot of crazy men. Everything in the way
+of a possible detriment during a battle was pitched overboard. The
+articles thus disposed of consisted of mess tables and benches, wooden
+partitions and rails, heavy chests and ditty boxes, and a hundred and
+one other things of value――all went sailing upon the rolling waters of
+the China Sea.
+
+“It’s like cleaning out a house on fire,” remarked Larry. “By the time
+the sailors get done throwing their things away I reckon we’ll be as
+rich as any of them and no mistake.”
+
+“Well, they can’t be too careful,” answered Striker. “Splinters are
+awful things. I’ve heard tell that during the times they used to fight
+in nothing but wooden ships the men were worse wounded by flying bits
+of woodwork than they were by the shots themselves. If this stuff
+floats ashore, what a harvest them natives will reap!”
+
+The woodwork disposed of, strong nettings of rope were stretched under
+the small boats on deck, also to keep possible splinters off, and then
+the deck was cleared of everything movable. The heavy chain cables were
+likewise coiled around the ammunition hoists, to give them additional
+protection, for a coiled chain cable will ward off a shot or shell just
+as well as will a moderately thick sheet of armor plate.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER XXIV
+
+                        “CLEAR SHIP FOR ACTION!”
+
+
+“Do you know much about this island of Luzon?” asked Larry of Striker,
+after the two had been at the gun again, seeing that everything was
+oiled and in perfect order, and after Larry had taken an additional
+lesson in handling the stout canvas bags containing fifty and a hundred
+pounds of brown prismatic powder.
+
+“Well, I know a little,” answered the tall down-easter, as he took a
+long look ashore, for now the coast line loomed up quite plainly to
+his trained eye. “The island is by far the largest of the Philippines,
+and is one of the most northern. Away to the south of the group is
+Mindanao, and, as you know, there are any quantity of islands, big an’
+little, betwixt the two. I once heard say that Luzon was about the size
+of all of our down-east states combined.”
+
+“It’s larger then than I thought it was,” cried Larry, somewhat
+astonished. “And what about the cities?”
+
+“The biggest city is Manila, on the east shore of Manila Bay, a big
+harbor shaped like a camel’s head, with the opening at the neck of the
+animal, and Manila sittin’ like a wart on the critter’s nose. Years an’
+years ago the city was only a Spanish military post, but it grew an’
+grew, until I reckon there are several hundred thousand folks――Chinese
+and Japanese and all――in and around Manila. A good many of the people
+are what they call Tagals, a branch of the Malay race――a good enough
+set if the Spanish would only treat ’em half decently.”
+
+“Something was said about their being in rebellion,” went on the boy.
+“I wonder if they are fighting now.”
+
+“To be sure they are fighting,” put in Barrow, the gunner. “I heard
+the lieutenant say, and I guess he got it straight from headquarters,
+that there are between thirty and forty thousand Tagals and others in
+revolt, under General Emilio Aguinaldo and other leaders. Oh, they’ll
+make it as hot on land in these quarters as we’ll make it on the sea,
+if we can catch sight of those will-o-the-wisp Dons.”
+
+There had been a vigorous signalling going on between the vessels of
+the squadron, and now all but the _Concord_ and the _Boston_ slowed up.
+The two craft mentioned put on extra steam, and in a short while were
+lost to sight in the distance.
+
+“They are out on a scout,” announced Striker. “Nothing like being
+careful, you know. There’s a bay ahead, and they are no doubt under
+orders to search it.”
+
+Striker’s surmise was correct. The opening ahead was that of Subic Bay,
+a number of miles west of the bay of Manila. The _Boston_ and _Concord_
+were to examine every corner and shelter of it carefully, and hurry
+back at the first sign of the enemy. Later on the _Baltimore_ joined
+her two sister ships.
+
+“If the Spanish fleet is in Subic Bay, we’ll have some fun getting at
+them,” Larry heard one of the sailors say. “The water there is mighty
+shallow in spots, and rocks are there a-plenty.”
+
+“Yes, and it’s likely if the Dons are there they’ll plant some shore
+batteries, and give us the hottest kind of a plunging fire,” added
+another. “Splice the anchor chain, but I hate a plunging fire,” was
+added with a growl. All sailors hate such a fire, coming from an
+elevated battery capable of throwing shot and shell directly down upon
+a vessel’s deck.
+
+The hours passed slowly, until, towards evening, the three warships
+sent out on the scout were seen coming back “empty handed,” as Striker
+expressed it. No vessels but a few fishing and merchant craft had been
+seen.
+
+The warships were now called closer together, and the various
+commanders were summoned by Commodore Dewey to the flagship, to hold a
+council of war. The coming of so many small boats to the _Olympia_ was
+an event of interest to Larry, and he viewed each captain with combined
+curiosity and respect. The council of war was held in the after-cabin
+of the flagship, and, of course, the sailors heard nothing of what was
+going on. But we will take a peep behind the curtain.
+
+Having satisfied himself that Admiral Montojo’s ships were not in Subic
+Bay, Commodore Dewey was strongly of the impression that the Spanish
+officer had taken his fleet into Manila Bay. There were a number of
+reasons for this, the principal one of which was that it seemed likely
+that the admiral would think it his duty to remain close to Manila, to
+protect it both from American attack and from the fiercer and fiercer
+attacks of the insurgents.
+
+The whole question was, then, Should the American warships risk a run
+into Manila Bay? That was a question to be carefully considered, and
+why my young readers will soon learn.
+
+As Striker had mentioned, the bay was shaped somewhat like the head
+of a camel, with the neck of the animal forming the entrance to the
+waters. Manila was situated twenty-nine miles from this entrance, and
+eight miles out from the city was a long, low neck of land, at the
+extremity of which stood Fort Cavite, an old but massive stronghold,
+mounting sufficient pieces to cover the shipping in front of Manila
+proper.
+
+Almost in the centre of the entrance to Manila Bay lay Corregidor
+Island, with a smaller island beside it. Corregidor Island was also
+fortified, with guns well able to sweep the channels on both sides.
+More than this, it was reported that the entrance to the bay was
+strongly mined by what are known as contact mines; that is, mines which
+will explode the moment a ship comes into contact with them. What a
+marine mine can do has already been only too well illustrated in the
+case of the ill-fated _Maine_.
+
+The question then was, Should the squadron risk an attempt to slip into
+the bay, past Corregidor Island, and past the hidden mines? It took
+brave men to decide to do this, but the commodore and his captains
+voted to a man that this should be done, and furthermore, that the
+attempt should be made that very night.
+
+In less than half an hour after the council of war broke up, what was
+proposed to be done under cover of darkness was known to every one on
+the warships. Perhaps some of the jackies turned pale at the news,
+but if so they were lost among the numbers of those who gave their
+commodore and their captains “three times three” with a will. Your true
+American man-o’-war’s man would rather fight than cruise around, any
+day.
+
+In order not to appear off the entrance to Manila Bay while it was
+yet light, the squadron steamed slowly southeastward, keeping a good
+distance from shore. The extreme heat almost made eating out of the
+question, yet supper was served at the usual time,――the last meal to be
+had for some hours to come.
+
+The sun went down as in a veritable sea of molten lead, and as the
+night drew on, the pale southern moon came up, accompanied by hundreds
+of twinkling stars. Perhaps those in command would have preferred
+greater darkness, yet it was necessary to have some light, that the
+channel might be seen without the aid of search or other lights.
+
+As it grew darker each warship put out a single hooded light, showing
+from behind only; this precaution being taken to keep one vessel from
+running up into that before her. All the other exposed lights were cut
+off, and officers and men were alike warned that no noise that was not
+absolutely necessary should be made. If it was possible, Commodore
+Dewey intended to run by the batteries on Corregidor Island, and any
+other batteries in the vicinity, without being discovered. In naval
+warfare, and in military warfare, too, for the matter of that, to come
+upon the enemy when he least expects it, and thus throw him into more
+or less confusion, often constitutes a large element of success.
+
+On and on went the squadron, looking like dim phantoms of the night,
+moving in an irregular line, the _Olympia_ in the lead, and the tiny
+_Petrel_ and despatch boat _McCulloch_ bringing up together in the
+rear. Corregidor Island was not yet visible, yet the men knew it might
+appear in the dim distance at any moment.
+
+“Clear ship for action!”
+
+The command was given quietly, and instead of blowing their bugles
+and whistles, and ringing their bells, the under-officers passed the
+commands along by word of mouth. Silently the men obeyed, but what a
+rushing around ensued! To an outsider the men might have appeared in
+helpless confusion, yet nothing could have been more orderly.
+
+As mentioned before, all unnecessary woodwork had already been disposed
+of, but now the decks were cleared of even the ventilator pipes
+wherever they interfered with the range of the big guns, and chains
+were run out, to help work guns from the outside as well as from the
+inside. Added to this, a gangway that had been kept until the last
+minute was slid into the sea, and then the various hatchways were
+fitted with steel covers, to protect those below from the explosion of
+a stray shell or the plunging fire of small arms.
+
+In the bowels of the warships the engineers and others had also been
+busy, coupling the various engines so that they might work one for
+another, attaching the power to the machinery that worked the big guns
+and to the electric circuit, for my young readers must remember that
+many modern guns are fired by electricity. The pumping-engines were
+also connected with the fire-hose, which was laid in every part of the
+ship, and final tests were made of the appliances designed to flood
+with water any magazine that was in danger of explosion.
+
+Firemen and stokers were at the fires, bringing the heat up to the
+highest possible point, and putting tons and tons of coal where it
+would be handiest, and also testing the forced draughts and blowers.
+They knew only too well that while in action a modern battleship must
+keep moving lively, or the enemy will blow her up as soon as guns can
+be properly pointed. And they knew, too, that if the battle went the
+wrong way, it would be steam alone that might save them from capture.
+
+And while this was going on, Larry, Striker, and those working with
+them had not been idle. The magazines had been opened and the work
+of delivering powder and projectiles to the various guns started.
+Ammunition, too, had been sent to the men in the fighting tops. Each
+gun was carefully swabbed out and loaded, and the range-finders tested
+by the head gunners. The actual loading of the big gun to which he
+had been assigned filled Larry with interest. He wondered how it would
+sound when the charge went off, and if they would hit anything on the
+first trial.
+
+In the conning tower, a round, steel structure, stood Captain Gridley,
+ready to do or die, as the occasion might require. The captain was not
+well, but had begged to be allowed to take charge of his vessel upon
+this trip, confident that he should come out of any contest with colors
+flying. Close behind the captain was the man at the wheel, and half a
+dozen others, on duty at the speaking-tubes and ready to carry commands
+to any portion of the warship.
+
+The commodore was on the bridge, that curious structure set sidewise
+above the deck of every modern battleship. With him, too, were petty
+officers, to carry his commands or send them to the other vessels by
+the use of night signals. And all was as silent as death, even the big
+engines doing their work with nothing more than an indefinite rumble,
+and the big fires blazing away without a spark soaring skyward.
+
+A bit of land came out of the distance. Slowly but surely the _Olympia_
+crept closer to it, keeping it upon the port side. It was Corregidor
+Island. Soon appeared the small island of Pulo Caballo. They were
+approaching the entrance to the harbor at last. Would they be able to
+pass into the waters beyond in safety?
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER XXV
+
+            THE SPANISH FLEET IS DISCOVERED OFF FORT CAVITE
+
+
+“We’re off the island!” whispered Striker to Larry, as both peered
+through the opening beside their gun.
+
+“It’s as dark on the island as it is on the ships,” returned the boy.
+His heart was thumping so violently that he could scarcely speak.
+
+“Silence, men!” came the low command from out of the semi-darkness of
+the gun-deck. And then, for the time being, nothing more was said.
+
+On swept the flagship at a speed of eight knots an hour. Corregidor
+Island was now directly abeam, and every glass on the big warship was
+trained on those dark and frowning works, while a sharp lookout was
+kept ahead and the “mine catchers” were out in force. In a minute more
+the _Olympia_ would sweep into Boca Grande, the main channel, supposed
+to be fairly thick with hidden mines. What if their ship should strike?
+The thought sent a cold shiver down Larry’s back. All in an instant
+he thought of his former home, of his two brothers, perhaps already in
+Uncle Sam’s service, of the _Columbia_, of Olan Oleson, and a score of
+other persons and things. He had turned away from the opening, but now,
+as Striker caught his arm, he turned back once more.
+
+The _Olympia_ had passed the fort on the island, and still no alarm
+had sounded forth. Next came the _Baltimore_, and still the silence
+remained unbroken. The men on both warships almost felt like giving a
+cheer.
+
+Suddenly all was changed. Sizz! a colored rocket went sailing up into
+the darkness of the night, fired from Corregidor Island. Immediately an
+answering rocket came from the distant shore. The American ships had
+been discovered!
+
+“The game is up!” cried Striker, and the hum of a dozen voices broke
+the stillness as the men began again to talk in whispers. “There, they
+have opened the ball! Now may the best men win, an’ thet means us
+Yankees, every trip!”
+
+While Striker was speaking, a dull boom had sounded over the night
+waters, and now an eight-inch shell whistled over the deck of the
+_Raleigh_, the third ship in the line. The shell had scarcely struck
+the sea beyond when it exploded with a loud noise, scattering the
+spray in all directions.
+
+“I wonder if we have got to take this in silence,” muttered Barrow,
+when a boom from the _Raleigh_ told that she had answered the enemy’s
+fire. Soon came a shot from the _Boston_, as that ship passed close to
+the fort. In the mean time the other vessels were out of range. Not to
+be outdone by her companions, the _Concord_ sent a six-inch shell into
+a shore battery that began firing. At that time the damage done was
+not known, but later on it was ascertained that the shell had landed
+directly in the battery, and one Spanish soldier was killed and several
+gunners injured; and thus was the first blood of the war spilt in this
+part of the world.
+
+But the Americans had suffered a loss too, although not through the
+illy aimed shots of their enemy. Signalled to run alongside of the
+big _Olympia_ for protection, the _McCulloch_ reported the death of
+her chief engineer, a highly esteemed man named Randall, who had been
+overcome by the terrific heat in the despatch boat’s engine-room. This
+was the first, and, in fact, the only life lost by our side during the
+world-famous battle now so close at hand.
+
+“We’re out of that,” said the chief of the gunners, when Corregidor
+Island had been left in the distance. “And I don’t believe they even
+touched us.”
+
+“We’re not over the mines yet,” said Barrow. “I take it we’ve got good
+cause to remember the _Maine_ just now. If we strike anything like
+that――”
+
+“Don’t go for to speak of it!” cried Striker. “It’s bad enough to have
+your nerves up like the string o’ a bow, without spittin’ out your
+tongue about it.” And several nodded so vigorously at this that the
+word “mine” was not mentioned again. The lazy ones stretched themselves
+beside their “big brothers,” as they called their guns, but the
+majority were in no humor to do aught but peer through the portholes,
+trying vainly to pierce the darkness of the night as the moon scurried
+beneath some fleeting clouds.
+
+“Four hundred pairs of eyes on the watch and nothing to see but water
+and sky,” mused Striker. “I hope we don’t feel anything more either,”
+he added, and that was the last reference the down-easter made to the
+mines.
+
+However, by one o’clock in the morning the bugbear was a thing of the
+past, for all the warships were standing out into the middle of Manila
+Bay, where it was not likely a mine would be encountered. That they
+had actually passed through a field of mines, though, is a matter of
+history, and this being so, their complete escape from injury seems
+little short of a miracle. Some naval experts have said that running
+the mines was as much to the Americans’ credit as what came after.
+
+There now remained nothing to do but to wait for daylight, since
+Commodore Dewey did not deem it advisable to go in shore in the
+darkness. The vessels consequently sailed on slowly towards the outer
+anchorage off Manila. A great many more men turned in to snatch a nap
+previous to engaging in a battle that was likely to be not far off.
+From what they had seen off Corregidor Island, those in command felt
+almost certain that Admiral Montojo’s fleet must be in the vicinity.
+
+“It will either be a case of meeting that fleet or bombarding Manila,
+see if it ain’t,” remarked Striker, as he and Larry turned in near the
+gun. Getting into one’s hammock under the circumstances was out of the
+question.
+
+At four o’clock, just as the first streaks of dawn were beginning
+to show over the distant mountains of Luzon, there was a call for
+something with which to arouse the men, and strong coffee was served,
+to which were added hardtack for any one who cared for them. As Larry
+sipped his steaming coffee and munched a soaked-up hardtack, he looked
+occasionally through the port and over the distant waters, and beheld
+what looked like a mass of shipping backed up by a solidly built-up
+town. This was Manila itself.
+
+“It looks exactly as it did when I was here years ago,” remarked
+Striker. “That part over to the right is old Manila, where the military
+post used to be. The main shipping is dead ahead of us, in the new
+territory. There is a river running between the two portions.”
+
+“I don’t see anything like a warship,” said Larry, “though, to be sure,
+it’s too dark yet to see much.”
+
+“They’ll see all they want to see when the sun is a bit higher, lad,
+and they get out their best glasses. But I don’t think the Spaniards
+would put their battleships in the midst o’ that shipping――it wouldn’t
+be fair, if they were expecting us.”
+
+The squadron now began to move along the front of Manila harbor, with
+glasses trained on the shipping, from which, as the sun came up, could
+be seen floating the flags of various nations. Some of the flags were
+Spanish, but these were on merchantmen and fishing craft.
+
+“We haven’t catched the Spanish admiral yet,” sighed the tall
+down-easter, as word drifted below that Manila harbor did not hold the
+fleet they were after. “I wonder what the commodore will do now?”
+
+No one on the _Olympia_ was kept long in suspense over this point. The
+squadron was moving southward, in the direction of the long neck of
+land upon which was located, as previously mentioned, Fort Cavite, or,
+as it is locally termed, the Cavite Arsenal.
+
+“They have found the Spanish fleet!” The cry ran from one ship to
+another, and soon it was on the lips of everybody, from the men in the
+tops to the stokers in the depths of the coal bunkers. The warships
+of the enemy had been discovered lying in the little bay formed by
+the curving shore of old Manila and the neck of land supporting Fort
+Cavite. The distance from Fort Cavite to Manila is almost eight miles
+in a straight line. Along such an imaginary line, and back of it,
+was Admiral Montojo’s fleet, flanked on the right by Manila’s shore
+batteries, and on the left by the powerful guns of the fort.
+
+The Spanish fleet was a formidable one. If their individual ships were
+not the equal of the American vessels, they had more of them, and they
+had, moreover, the assistance of the shore batteries and the powerful
+fort. A glance at their vessels will not come amiss to the reader who
+wishes to know some of the particulars of this stirring encounter.
+
+The real flagship of the Spanish fleet was the cruiser _Reina
+Cristina_, of 3100 tons, carrying twenty guns of small and large
+caliber, including six rapid-firing guns supposed to be of first-class
+pattern and efficacy. Like the _Olympia_, she carried about four
+hundred officers and men.
+
+Next in size to the flagship came the cruiser _Castilla_, the temporary
+flagship, of 3300 tons, carrying a mixed battery of eighteen guns, and
+manned by three hundred well-trained Spanish tars. Two other cruisers
+were the _Don Antonio de Ulloa_ and the _Don Juan de Austria_, of about
+1100 tons burden each, and each carrying nine guns and manned by a crew
+of one hundred and seventy-three. There was another cruiser at hand,
+the _Velasco_, but she was out of repair, and her best guns had been
+placed near the fort, for use from shore.
+
+Of the gunboats, of which there were quite a number, the principal ones
+were the _Isla de Luzon_ and the _Isla de Cuba_, each of a thousand
+tons, carrying a mixed battery of ten guns, and manned by a hundred and
+sixty officers and men. There were also the _General Lezo_, mounting
+half a dozen guns, the _Del Dueroe_, and also the Spanish mail steamer,
+_Mindanao_, which had been hastily pressed into service as an auxiliary
+cruiser, with a battery of no mean proportions. Added to these vessels
+were four torpedo boats and the transport _Manila_. The total number
+of officers and men on the various vessels was estimated to be between
+eighteen and nineteen hundred――about a hundred more than in the
+American forces.
+
+A word may be added concerning Admiral Patricio Montojo y Pasaron. He
+was not only the commander of the fleet, but also the commander at
+Cavite. He was an old and trained naval officer, known to be brave to
+the degree of rashness, and even by Americans it was felt that he was
+a foe fully worthy of Commodore Dewey’s steel. The men beneath the
+Spanish admiral were as bold and hard fighters as himself. All in all,
+the coming contest was to be a battle of giants, and what the outcome
+of that mighty contest was to be no person at the outset could tell.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER XXVI
+
+                        THE BATTLE OF MANILA BAY
+
+
+Boom! bang! crack! boom! boom! boom!
+
+Loud and clear came the reports over the waters of the inner bay, and
+over and around the American warships whistled and screamed a dozen
+balls and shells ere they plunged into the briny element. The shore
+battery near old Manila had “opened the ball,” as Striker declared,
+and, though not a shot took effect, the firing thoroughly aroused Uncle
+Sam’s jackies to the fact that “the real thing” was on them.
+
+“Now, boys, roll up your sleeves and be prepared to pitch in!”
+exclaimed Barrow. “It’s no loafing allowed for the next few hours, I’ll
+warrant you! Larry, you must do the double-quick now if you never did
+it before.”
+
+“I’m more than willing to pitch in,” answered the youth, with a nervous
+little laugh. “Anything is better than this waiting around.”
+
+“That’s true,” put in Striker. “I know I won’t get my nerves settled
+until we’re in the thick on it――kind o’ like your second wind in a fist
+fight, you know.”
+
+The men were crowded together at the ports, watching eagerly whatever
+might be seen, which just then was not much, for they were getting
+away from the shore batteries, and the first of the battleships of
+the enemy was still some distance off. Barrow’s reference to shirt
+sleeves was entirely superfluous, since the shirts worn were altogether
+of the short-sleeved variety, revealing full many a tough and brawny
+arm, ready to do battle as long as the breath of life remained in its
+owner’s body.
+
+“We’re getting closer to ’em,” said Striker, a few minutes later. “If
+only the commodore――”
+
+The tall Yankee did not finish, but stared before him in open-mouthed
+amazement. About a thousand yards away the waters of the bay had
+suddenly gone up into a gigantic fountain. A rumble followed, felt
+quite distinctly by all on board.
+
+“Gracious, what’s that, an earthquake?” ejaculated Larry.
+
+“Sort of one, lad,” answered Barrow. “That was a connection mine going
+up. They’ve got ’em out here, it would seem, but they made a bad miss
+of it that trip――about half a mile, I calculate. It’s lucky we weren’t
+sailing closer in, eh?”
+
+“I should say so.” Larry drew a long breath. “I think I’d rather fight
+with the guns, any day.”
+
+“So would all of us, lad; but we have to take what comes, and so does
+the enemy. We’ve got a whole lot of warships against us, but the
+_Olympia’s_ all right, and so are the others, and we’ll knock the spots
+off those Spaniards. Hurrah for Uncle Sam and remember the _Maine_!” he
+added loudly.
+
+“Remember the _Maine_!” came back from a hundred voices, in heavy
+unison. That was the battle-cry, uttered thousands of times during
+those trying hours, just as during the Mexican War the cry was,
+“Remember the Alamo!” and during the Revolutionary War, “Remember
+Concord and Lexington!” Soldiers and sailors must have some cry to
+stir up their blood, and what cry was better for that purpose than
+one calling upon them to remember the martyrdom of two hundred and
+fifty-three of their comrades in arms?
+
+The signal was now displayed from the American flagship to close up and
+prepare for general action, and the vessels fell into a single column,
+four hundred yards apart, and went ahead at a speed of six knots an
+hour. The _Olympia_, as usual, led, and from each masthead and gaff
+floated Old Glory, whipping out a breezy defiance to the enemy as the
+line swept on.
+
+Commodore Dewey’s plan of battle was exceedingly simple. Unless
+something unusual occurred, the ships were to make a number of courses
+in front of the enemy’s line, the vessels taking part to be the six
+cruisers and gunboats. The despatch boat and the boats with coal and
+stores were to lie just out of range of the Spanish guns. The first
+course was to be at forty-five hundred yards, and each circuit was to
+come in a little closer, the tide of battle permitting. It was Dewey’s
+plan, just as it was Nelson’s plan at the famous battle of Trafalgar,
+to give the enemy no rest, but to go at him with all vigor from the
+start.
+
+The commodore was on the bridge of the _Olympia_ with his powerful
+field-glasses in his hand. When about five thousand yards away from the
+_Castilla_, which was seen to be flying the Spanish admiral’s pennant
+for the time being, he turned to Captain Gridley, who stood watching
+him eagerly.
+
+“You can open up as soon as you please, Gridley,” he said. “And give it
+to them good and strong.”
+
+“I’ll train the forward turret gun myself,” Captain Gridley is reported
+to have answered, as he made off, to later on command his ship from the
+conning tower.
+
+“Ready there!” the cry running along the larboard guns made everybody
+jump. “Prepare to fire.”
+
+“Don’t hold your ears shut!” screamed Striker at Larry. “They are
+better off open, and throw your arms out like this, and open your
+mouth,” he went through the motions himself. “Now, then!”
+
+Larry had scarcely time to follow directions than the final signal was
+given, and with what seemed little short of a thunderclap to the youth,
+the _Olympia_ let drive with her four eight-inch turret guns. The aim
+was directed at the _Castilla_, and when the smoke cleared away the
+Spanish flagship was seen to be struck in one, if not two, places.
+
+“Come, lad, pick yourself up and hustle!” cried Barrow, for Larry had
+gone down with the unusual roll caused by the discharge. “Lively now,
+for there’s no time to waste before the next shot.”
+
+The man at the breech, a good-natured chap named Castleton, was already
+opening the gun. As the breech fell back a cloud of smoke and soot
+entered the gun-room, nearly choking Larry. When the boy had cleared
+his eyes and throat he saw to his astonishment that all the highly
+polished brass-work on the cannon had turned a sickly green.
+
+The soot cleared away, Striker began to swab out the gun, which
+contained a quantity of matter looking like red chalk. This was what
+was left of the burnt powder. Barrow felt of the piece, to find it cool
+enough to do without a washing with cold water, and then the process of
+reloading began.
+
+During this time the other ships in the line began to fire at the
+enemy, and now the Spanish warships fired in return. The noise was
+something fearful, and in a short while every ship in the harbor was
+enveloped in a dense cloud of smoke.
+
+As was natural, the opening fire on the American side was directed
+principally to the ship flying the Spanish admiral’s colors, and by the
+time one course had been taken down the line, and the _Olympia_ was
+sweeping closer to try it again, the _Castilla_, as well as the _Reina
+Cristina_, was seen to be struck in a dozen places, and on fire.
+
+“It’s first blood for us!” yelled Striker, enthusiastically. “I don’t
+believe we’ve been struck once.”
+
+He had hardly spoken when the whining shriek of a hundred and fifty
+pound shell was heard, coming straight at the _Olympia_. “We’re struck
+now!” cried Barrow, when, as shells sometimes do, the unwelcome missile
+took a turn in the air and went sailing through the flagship’s upper
+works, doing damage that was but trifling.
+
+In less than half an hour Larry felt at home at his work. He now knew
+what real fighting meant, and was getting used to the noise and smoke.
+Strange to say, he did not feel in the least alarmed. Perhaps this
+was because some awful shot had not yet brought home to him the true
+horrors of the dreadful combat. He was working like a Trojan, with the
+perspiration pouring from his whole body, and the smoke and soot had
+made him the color of a true African.
+
+The _Olympia’s_ gunners had now obtained the correct range of the
+Spanish ships, and in addition to the smaller shots were pouring in a
+number of two hundred and fifty pound shells. As the flagship came down
+the second course, these shells struck fairly and squarely upon the
+deck of the _Castilla_, doing fearful damage.
+
+“She’ll be out of it in a few minutes more!” cried Striker. “See,
+she is burning in two places. Her crew had better leave before the
+magazines blow up, if they want to save their lives.”
+
+“Their other ships are catching it, too,” said Barrow, as a sudden
+breeze sent the smoke flying. “I wonder how the rest of our squadron
+are making it?”
+
+That was a question which could not be answered just then, but, later
+on, word drifted into the gun-room that the _Baltimore_ had been hit
+rather heavily and some of the men injured. The _Raleigh_ had had her
+largest whaleboat smashed, and the splinters had caught some of the men
+on deck, but the injuries were trifling.
+
+As the smoke went up, the _Castilla_ was seen to be turning, as if
+to retire to a small inlet partly behind Fort Cavite. She was now in
+flames in every part. Quick orders were given, and just as the Spanish
+flagship showed her stern fully, a big shot from the _Olympia_ went
+crashing straight through her. It is said this shot killed over fifty
+of her crew, and exploded one of her boilers. However that was, it is
+a fact that she sank immediately afterwards, the majority of her crew
+going with her.
+
+“The game is up with ’em!” cried Striker. “I reckon the Dons will give
+it up now!”
+
+But the tall Yankee was mistaken, not knowing the stern fighting
+qualities of Admiral Montojo. Scarcely had the _Castilla_ gone down
+when the admiral’s flag was hoisted on the _Reina Cristina_, and the
+fire on board of that boat was put out.
+
+“Their flag is up again!” said Barrow. “Now to give the new flagship
+the same dose that we gave the other! Come, Castleton, clean out the
+gun good.”
+
+Castleton, very much exhausted, staggered forward and did as bidden.
+The terrible heat was beginning to tell upon all sides. Larry brought
+some powder, and then turned to get a drink from the hose pipe, his
+mouth feeling as though it was filled with cotton. Striker had obtained
+permission to take a peep on deck, and the other men were working along
+as well as the smoke and exhaustion would permit.
+
+How it all happened it was impossible, afterward, for Larry to tell.
+He had obtained all the powder necessary and was getting his drink
+as before mentioned. A fall beside him made him turn, and through the
+smoke he saw Castleton lying beside him. The gunner’s mate had been
+overcome by the heat.
+
+“Poor chap!” thought the boy, and turned the hose upon the prostrate
+man’s head, as the best available means of restoring him to
+consciousness.
+
+Then, while still working over Castleton, Larry happened to glance
+towards the gun, which Barrow was on the point of firing. A sight
+met his gaze which nearly paralyzed him. The gun breech was closed
+but still unlocked! Should Barrow discharge the gun while in that
+condition, every one of them would be blown to atoms!
+
+
+
+
+                             CHAPTER XXVII
+
+                ADDITIONAL INCIDENTS OF THE GREAT BATTLE
+
+
+As he made his awful discovery, Larry dropped the hose pipe and fell
+back a few steps. To get out of danger is, instinctively, the first
+thought of every one, and in a vague way it flashed over his mind that
+he must flee or be annihilated.
+
+Then another thought came, swift on the track of the first. If the
+gun was discharged with the breech unlocked, all his companions, and
+perhaps many others, would be killed, while there was no telling how
+much the _Olympia_ would suffer.
+
+All this passed through his mind with the rapidity of a lightning
+flash. As he thought, he tried to yell to Barrow, but the words would
+not come. His very jaws were set in horror, while his eyes bulged from
+their sockets. His hands went up, and he shook them appealingly at the
+head gunner.
+
+But Barrow was looking another way, as was natural when the piece was
+to be discharged. Larry felt it was all over. In that moment he
+virtually suffered the pang of being killed.
+
+But now came a chance to stop the impending catastrophe. Prompted by
+curiosity, Barrow turned, to take another squint at the enemy before
+letting drive. But his hand still retained its hold on the connection
+used for firing purposes.
+
+“Oh, God, help me!” was the thought which forced its way to Larry’s
+lips, and he made one wild, agonizing leap to the head gunner’s side.
+“Don’t fire! don’t fire!”
+
+[Illustration: DON’T FIRE! DON’T FIRE!]
+
+“What’s that?” asked Barrow, coolly, as he turned. Then as he caught
+sight of the boy’s set face and staring eyes, he added, “Why, lad, what
+ails you? Got a fit?”
+
+“Don’t fire! don’t fire!” repeated Larry, and with rigid finger pointed
+to the unlocked breech.
+
+It was now Barrow’s turn to be struck dumb. He still held the
+connection, and threatened in his consternation to set off the gun
+anyway. But suddenly he realized the situation more fully, and dropped
+the connection as though it were a coal of fire.
+
+“Where is Castleton?” he thundered. “Does he want to blow us all to
+kingdom come?”
+
+For answer, Larry pointed to the prostrate man. “He’s knocked out by
+the heat,” he answered, in a voice that did not sound in the least like
+his own.
+
+“Humph! he ought to have given us some warning!” grumbled Barrow, doing
+what he could to steady his own tones. “Why, if the gun had gone off
+standing like that, the whole gun-room would have been knocked out of
+sight, to say nothing of the rest of the ship.”
+
+He began to lock up the breech, and Larry turned again to poor
+Castleton. The fellow soon regained his consciousness, but could not
+continue his work, and was sent to the hospital quarters, while an
+extra man from another gun came to take his place.
+
+“I must give you credit for what you did, Larry,” said Barrow, when the
+excitement was over. “Many a boy, and man, too, for that matter, would
+have thought of nothing but getting away. You saved us all, and I, for
+one, sha’n’t forget it,” and he cracked the youth good-naturedly upon
+the shoulder.
+
+Striker now came back, but the work was getting so vigorous that he
+was not told of the incident until some time after. From the bridge,
+the commodore had discovered a torpedo boat sneaking out from below
+the fort, with the evident intention of making a circuit and coming up
+back of the American ships. Captain Gridley was ordered to train the
+guns of the _Olympia_ upon this craft, and the gunners went at it with
+a will, each vying with the others in making the best shot. The gun
+our friends were at hit the torpedo boat on the stern, disabling her
+steering gear, and two other shots sent her scurrying for land. When
+close to shore a final shot fairly lifted her out of the water and cast
+her on the sands, a total wreck.
+
+By the time the _Olympia_ was coming along on her third course before
+the line of the enemy, it was found that the new flagship, the _Reina
+Cristina_, was again in flames, while the other ships were suffering
+more or less in the same way. The new flagship fought desperately, and
+two shots whizzed through the _Olympia’s_ upper rigging again, while
+a third fairly clipped the American flagship’s stern. But the _Reina
+Cristina_ could not hold out, and retired in a thick cloud of smoke,
+burning fiercely.
+
+In the mean time, however, the _Don Antonio de Ulloa_ came to the
+front with a heavy fire, directed principally at the _Olympia_ and
+the _Baltimore_. Her captain, E. Robino, was known to be one of the
+greatest fighters in the Spanish navy, and he kept his guns at it so
+long as it was possible for him to do so.
+
+“He is hot as pepper,” said Striker, as they drew closer to the
+_Ulloa_. “But we’ll down him, see if we don’t.” And Striker was right,
+for it was not long after this that the _Ulloa_ went down, many of her
+men with her, but with her colors nailed to her mast. It was now seen
+that nearly all the other ships were burning. A few more shots from
+the _Olympia_ were delivered, and the flagship drew off, signalling
+the others to follow. To go close in shore after the enemy was an
+impossibility for the large members of the squadron, the water being
+too shallow.
+
+The terrific heat of the day, and the forced fighting, had almost
+exhausted every man on the ships, and seeing the fight was his own,
+Commodore Dewey wisely decided to give his men a breathing spell and
+something to eat. Accordingly, as soon as they were out of range,
+orders came to quit the guns and get breakfast. The battle had now
+raged for about three hours.
+
+“We’ve got ’em on the run!” shouted Striker, enthusiastically. “I hope
+the commodore sends us back to finish ’em up.”
+
+“He’ll do that all right enough,” replied a brawny marine standing by.
+“You never saw Commodore Dewey doing things by halves.”
+
+“Three cheers for our commodore!” suddenly shouted somebody, and the
+cheers were given with a will.
+
+“Three cheers for Captain Gridley and our other officers!” was added.
+
+“What’s the matter with three cheers for the _Olympia_ and the other
+ships of this squadron?” asked Larry, half laughing, and up went the
+cheers as loudly as the rest. No one on board had been injured, the
+enemy was all but defeated, and it was a joyous if a tired time all
+around.
+
+“We’ve got five shots in the upper works, that’s all,” was the report
+which went around. “The only man injured is Casey. Hautermann stepped
+on his toe-corn, and they had a set-to.” And a roar went up; for Casey
+was known as a pugnacious Irishman, and Hautermann as an equally
+belligerent German, and the two were continually at swords’ points.
+
+Breakfast and a well-earned rest put every man again on his feet, and
+Castleton came back to his gun. “I remember the breech,” he said. “I
+was just starting to lock it when I went down as if a weight had hit me
+on the head. I couldn’t have helped it if I was to hang for it.”
+
+“I believe you,” growled Barrow. “But after this I reckon I’ll take a
+squint at the breech myself before I touch her off.”
+
+During the time that the men were having breakfast a council of war was
+held by the commodore and his captains, and it was decided to run in
+as close as possible to Fort Cavite and silence it, as well as to go
+at what was left of the Spanish fleet. The order to return to battle
+sounded at a little before eleven, and this time the _Baltimore_ was
+allowed to lead, the _Olympia_ and others following.
+
+Again the storm of shot and shell broke forth, fiercely upon the
+American side, and but feebly upon the part of their enemy. All the big
+ships of the Spaniards were now either burnt or sunk, and the little
+craft were fast getting into the same condition.
+
+“The _Raleigh_, _Concord_, and _Petrel_ will go inside and destroy
+shipping,” was the next order signalled from the flagship, and those
+warships hastened to obey. But the _Raleigh_ drew too much water, and
+after getting aground twice was forced to give up the task assigned to
+her. The _Concord_ and _Petrel_, however, crossed the shoals in safety,
+and began a fierce bombardment from the rear, while the big ships
+shelled the Arsenal from the front. In the mean time, the batteries
+near Manila had been silenced by Commodore Dewey, who sent word that
+the city’s guns must cease firing or he would shell the town.
+
+The tide of battle had swept along into the afternoon when suddenly a
+loud hurrahing was heard, coming from where the _Concord_ and _Petrel_
+lay. A minute later, as the smoke lifted, a flag of truce could be seen
+flying from the Arsenal. Then the _Petrel_ signalled:――
+
+“The enemy has surrendered!”
+
+What a storm of cheers went up. It was as if pandemonium had suddenly
+broken loose upon all sides. Officers joined the men in shouting,
+and the deck and rigging swarmed with jackies waving their caps and
+handkerchiefs. Larry shouted as loudly as the rest, and it must be
+acknowledged that the plucky boy thought it the proudest moment of his
+life.
+
+It was a victory without a parallel in history. Six American fighting
+ships had attacked eight large Spanish vessels, besides a number of
+small craft, a shore battery, and a fairly-well equipped fort. The
+Spanish had had all their ships either sunk, blown up, or burnt, the
+battery had been shattered to pieces and the fort silenced. The Spanish
+had lost in killed and wounded over five hundred men, and those that
+were able, were fleeing to Manila by the inland roads, and with them
+Admiral Montojo, who was slightly wounded.
+
+And the loss to the Americans? Strange, nay, astonishing as it may
+appear, there was none worth mentioning, if we except the death of the
+engineer overcome by the heat. On the _Baltimore_ six men had been
+wounded by the bursting of a shell, but the surgeons said all would
+speedily recover. The _Olympia_ had received five shots in her upper
+works, of no consequence, as viewed from the standpoint of war, and the
+_Raleigh’s_ whaleboat would need the services of the ship’s carpenter.
+Three shots in her upper works was the damage on the _Baltimore_, and
+the _Boston_, _Concord_, and _Petrel_ had escaped with practically no
+injury at all.
+
+Small wonder, then, that the officers and men of the squadron were
+the happiest set on the face of the earth, and small wonder that they
+thought their gallant commodore the greatest naval hero living. As for
+Commodore Dewey, he was equally happy. That day’s work had placed his
+name high up on the brightest page in American history.
+
+
+
+
+                             CHAPTER XXVIII
+
+                      ON TO HONG KONG――CONCLUSION
+
+
+“I feel like a fellow who has been rolling in a coal hole,” remarked
+Larry, when the excitement had somewhat subsided. “And my ears are in a
+regular buzz.”
+
+“That buzzing will go away by morning,” said Striker. “Ah, lad, but it
+was a great victory, wasn’t it now?” and he slapped Larry heartily on
+the back. When the news of the surrender came in, Striker had insisted
+upon dancing an impromptu jig, and several had joined in. There was
+likely to be a “high time” on the _Olympia_ for some days to come, now
+that the terrible strain under which the men had been laboring had been
+removed.
+
+For it is no easy thing to face death, even at something of a distance.
+Everybody knew that only the wretched aiming of the Spanish gunners
+had saved them from shots of a more or less serious nature. Had those
+five balls which had struck in the upper works been aimed lower, there
+would, without question, have been great havoc.
+
+It was drawing towards Sunday evening, and the _Olympia_ had taken up
+a position outside of Manila, leaving several of the other vessels to
+guard around Fort Cavite. At this place, the Spaniards were engaged in
+carrying off their dead and wounded and were not molested. Commodore
+Dewey might have taken a large number of prisoners, had he forced a
+fight on land, but he had no accommodations for such a purpose. He had
+been sent out to find the Spanish fleet and “engage” it, and he had
+engaged it most effectually. He must now await additional orders from
+Washington.
+
+It was some little time before Larry himself felt like quieting down,
+but a good washing up and changing of garments made him feel more like
+himself.
+
+“This isn’t much of a Sunday,” he observed to Barrow, when they were
+eating supper. “The chaplain hasn’t had a chance to say a word.”
+
+Nevertheless, the chaplain did hold a brief “church,” although the
+sailors prepared no “rig” for it. This was during the smoking hour, and
+men attended or not, just as they pleased. Larry felt it his duty to
+go, and took Striker with him.
+
+Utterly worn out, the boy slept soundly that night, although once or
+twice some ugly dreams chased each other across his mind――cannon shots
+aimed directly for his head and that unlocked breech, which he never
+would forget.
+
+The following day was a busy one for the separate vessels of the
+Asiatic Squadron. While the _Concord_ and _Petrel_ received the
+surrender of the fort and arsenal at Cavite, and also took possession
+of the navy yard, the _Raleigh_ and _Baltimore_ were sent down to
+Corregidor Island to silence all the batteries at the entrance of
+Manila Bay. A flag of truce was sent in to the commandant at the
+island, and, on learning the truth of what had occurred, he agreed to
+surrender if the men should be allowed their liberty. As no prisoners
+were desired, this was satisfactory, and the men were placed under
+parole not to take up arms against the Americans nor to allow a gun to
+be fired at any American ship going in or out of the harbor.
+
+Although the majority of the Spanish vessels had been destroyed, three
+steam tugs had been captured, along with the _Manila_, the ship fitted
+up for fighting purposes. During the three days following, a number
+of other vessels were taken, and, later still, a large Spanish war
+vessel, the _Callao_. The taking of the _Callao_ was full of the grim
+humor that all sailors enjoy. She had been among the southern islands
+for many months, and knew nothing of any war having been declared. She
+steamed straight for Cavite, expecting to meet sister ships there,
+when, without warning, the _Olympia_ fired upon her. The Spanish
+commander thought the American ship was indulging in target practice,
+and turned to steam out of range, when several other vessels came to
+the _Olympia’s_ aid, and then the Spaniard saw that the whole matter
+was no joke, counted the American vessels through his glass, caught
+sight of the wrecks in Cavite harbor, and lost no time in surrendering.
+The _Callao_ was a gunboat of two hundred tons, carrying four modern
+guns and a crew of forty. Sailors were speedily sent to take charge of
+the prize; the commander and his crew were sent ashore, and an hour
+later the stars and stripes floating above the _Callao_ indicated that
+she had been added to the American squadron.
+
+It was, of course, desirable that news of the victory should be sent
+to the United States by way of cable and telegraph without delay. But
+the only cable from Manila was that to Hong Kong, and that the Spanish
+held. As he could not send his own messages, Commodore Dewey promptly
+resolved that the Spanish should not send theirs, and he had one of
+his ships pick up the cable lying on the bottom of the bay and cut it.
+Then he prepared his despatches, and sent them to Hong Kong on the
+_McCulloch_.
+
+Larry felt that the despatch boat would soon leave, and anxious,
+now that the big battle was over, to learn something concerning the
+_Columbia_, he asked for permission to take the trip across the China
+Sea.
+
+“You can go, my lad,” said Commodore Dewey, for the boy had gone
+directly to him. “I understand you did very well at the gun to which
+you were assigned. When you get to Hong Kong you can then make up your
+mind as to whether or not you care to return. If not, you may consider
+yourself as honorably discharged from the service,” and then he shook
+hands and smiled.
+
+Larry had expected that Striker would accompany him on the trip, but
+the tall down-easter declined. “This jest suits me to death, Larry,”
+he said. “I wouldn’t miss a day of it for a fortune. Don’t you forget
+to come back; I’ll be a-watchin’ for you.” And an affectionate parting
+followed, for both had grown to think a great deal of each other.
+
+The trip on the _McCulloch_ to Hong Kong occupied several days, but
+with nothing happening out of the ordinary. As the stanch despatch boat
+came in sight of the numerous shipping at the Chinese-English port,
+Larry kept his eyes wide open for a possible sight of the _Columbia_.
+He had just about given up hope, when he caught a glimpse of a hull
+which looked strangely familiar.
+
+“Will you lend me your glass for just a moment?” he asked of a news
+correspondent standing by. “I think that’s my ship over to our port.”
+
+The glasses were cheerfully loaned, and one look convinced Larry that
+he was right. There was the _Columbia_, somewhat battered around the
+bow and with her foremast still missing, and there, yes, there were
+Captain Ponsberry and Tom Grandon on her deck!
+
+“_Columbia_, ahoy!” he yelled at the top of his lungs, but he was too
+far off to be heard, and had to content himself with locating the craft
+as best he could, while the despatch boat steamed up to the regular
+landing.
+
+“What’s the news?” was the first question asked by a hundred throats,
+for the vessel had been seen from afar.
+
+“Complete victory for the Americans――Spanish fleet utterly wiped out!”
+was the answer that started a rapid flow of conversation upon every
+hand. Soon the news was known everywhere, and scores of telegrams were
+speeding in every direction. When the news reached the United States,
+everybody was jubilant, and Congress voted thanks to the men who had
+taken part in the glorious contest, while Commodore Dewey was made Rear
+Admiral.
+
+Once on shore, Larry lost no time in making his way along the busy
+street skirting the harbor, until he came to the quay at which the
+_Columbia_ was tied up. A rope ladder was out, and soon he was climbing
+on board.
+
+“Bless my soul! Is it really Larry Russell?” ejaculated Captain
+Ponsberry, when confronted. “Why, I thought you were at the bottom of
+the China Sea!” And he caught the boy by both hands.
+
+“Larry Russell, as sure as fate!” cried Grandon, rushing forward.
+“Well, this is the most wonderful thing I ever heard of. How on earth
+did you escape drowning and get here?” And he, too, nearly wrung
+Larry’s hand off.
+
+“It’s a long story,” was the boy’s answer to both. “I and Luke Striker
+floated about until we struck an island, and――”
+
+“Then Luke is safe, too!” broke in Captain Ponsberry. “The Lord be
+praised, as the parson would say. It’s wonderful! simply wonderful! So
+ye got on an island, and some ship picked ye off, I calkerlate?”
+
+“No, we found an old boat, and set sail in it. But the boat went to
+pieces, and we floundered around until the Asiatic Squadron came along
+and Commodore Dewey picked us up, and――”
+
+“The fleet that set sail to fight the Spaniards?” interrupted Grandon.
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Then the fleet’s come back here?”
+
+“No, only the despatch boat. The warships are at Manila. I was with
+them up to a few days ago, and we sunk or burned every one of the Dons’
+vessels,” added Larry, proudly.
+
+Taken together, the news was so marvellous that Captain Ponsberry
+could scarcely believe it, and soon he was asking Larry for all the
+particulars, which the boy was only too willing to give.
+
+“I reckon you would like to know what has become of Olan Oleson,”
+remarked Grandon, during a brief pause.
+
+“I would. He pushed Luke and myself overboard.”
+
+“The parson thought he did, and we put him in irons for the rest of
+the trip. When we got here we were on the point of making a complaint
+to the authorities against him, when the captain of another vessel had
+him locked up for atrocious assault. He is in prison now, and likely to
+stay there for some time to come.”
+
+“He deserves it,” was Larry’s reply. “I intended to make some charge
+against him, if I could locate him. I hope his term in prison does him
+good. I never want to see him again.”
+
+Hobson and several others now came forward, and were equally glad
+to find that the lad was safe. During the talk which followed Larry
+learned that the _Columbia_ had had a good deal of trouble during the
+hurricanes, but had finally reached Hong Kong with only the loss of
+the foremast and a battered bow, due to the falling of the heavy stick.
+She had sprung several small leaks, but her pumps had easily kept her
+free of water.
+
+“And the parson――where is he?” asked Larry of the captain.
+
+“He is still in Hong Kong,” was the reply, and, receiving the Rev.
+Martin Wells’ address, the boy took the privilege of calling upon the
+missionary, and was very warmly received.
+
+“Truly you have had some wonderful adventures,” said Mr. Wells, after
+listening to the youth’s recital. “But I take it you are rather proud
+of them――especially of your work on the _Olympia_ at Manila.”
+
+And Larry, frank to the last, admitted that this was so.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+Here properly ends the tale of Larry Russell’s adventures “Under
+Dewey at Manila.” We have seen how fortune, by a curious combination
+of circumstances, threw him in with the Asiatic Squadron, and how
+gallantly he fought during that battle which, with the exception of our
+second great naval victory near Santiago Bay, has no equal in history.
+That Larry was proud at having participated in the glorious conquest
+was but natural. What American boy would not have been proud?
+
+The _McCulloch_ was to return to Manila Bay with despatches almost
+immediately, and the boy was strongly tempted to go back in her. But he
+wished first to hear from his brothers, and so resolved to stay in Hong
+Kong until the despatch boat might make a second trip to that port. Of
+his future adventures we shall hear later on.
+
+In the mean time, however, I would ask my young readers who have
+followed me through the foregoing pages, to transfer their attention
+for a while to Ben Russell, Larry’s oldest brother. As Ben had written
+in his letter, he had preferred the soldiery, and on the President’s
+first call for 125,000 volunteers, he had given up his position in New
+York, and joined the army. The haps and mishaps of the youth will be
+related in another volume, to be entitled “A Young Volunteer in Cuba;
+or, Fighting for the Single Star.” In this book we shall not only
+become intimately acquainted with Ben, but we shall also catch glimpses
+of Larry and of the other brother, Walter, who had gone into the navy
+stationed in Atlantic waters. We shall likewise learn something more
+of Job Dowling, and of what was done by the boys toward getting that
+which was justly due them from their miserly step-uncle.
+
+And now, for the time being, good-by to Larry Russell, the American
+sailor boy who served so gallantly “Under Dewey at Manila.”
+
+
+
+
+                         THE OLD GLORY SERIES.
+
+                         By EDWARD STRATEMEYER,
+
+               _Author of “The Bound to Succeed Series,”
+                   “The Ship and Shore Series,” etc._
+
+      Three Volumes. Cloth. Illustrated. Price per volume, $1.25.
+
+UNDER DEWEY AT MANILA Or the War Fortunes of a Castaway.
+
+A YOUNG VOLUNTEER IN CUBA Or Fighting for the Single Star.
+
+FIGHTING IN CUBAN WATERS Or Under Schley on the Brooklyn.
+
+
+                             PRESS NOTICES.
+
+“‘Under Dewey at Manila’ is a thoroughly timely book, in perfect
+sympathy with the patriotism of the day. Its title is conducive to
+its perusing, and its reading to anticipation. For the volume is but
+the first of the Old Glory Series, and the imprint is that of the
+famed firm of Lee and Shepard, whose name has been for so many years
+linked with the publications of Oliver Optic. As a matter of fact,
+the story is right in line with the productions of that gifted and
+most fascinating of authors, and certainly there is every cause for
+congratulation that the stirring events of our recent war are not to
+lose their value for instruction through that valuable school which the
+late William T. Adams made so individually distinctive.
+
+“Edward Stratemeyer, who is the author of the present work, has proved
+an extraordinarily apt scholar, and had the book appeared anonymously
+there could hardly have failed of a unanimous opinion that a miracle
+had enabled the writer of the famous Army and Navy and other series to
+resume his pen for the volume in hand. Mr. Stratemeyer has acquired in
+a wonderfully successful degree the knack of writing an interesting
+educational story which will appeal to the young people, and the plan
+of his trio of books as outlined cannot fail to prove both interesting
+and valuable.”――_Boston Ideas._
+
+
+“Stratemeyer’s style suits the boys.”――JOHN TERHUNE, _Supt. of Public
+Instruction, Bergen Co., New Jersey_.
+
+
+“‘The Young Volunteer in Cuba,’ the second of the Old Glory Series,
+is better than the first; perhaps it traverses more familiar ground.
+Ben Russell, the brother of Larry, who was ‘with Dewey,’ enlists with
+the volunteers and goes to Cuba, where he shares in the abundance
+of adventure and has a chance to show his courage and honesty and
+manliness, which win their reward. A good book for boys, giving a good
+deal of information in a most attractive form.”――_Universalist Leader._
+
+
+_For sale by all booksellers, or sent, postpaid, on receipt of price by_
+
+                       LEE & SHEPARD, Publishers,
+                                BOSTON.
+
+
+
+
+                       THE SHIP AND SHORE SERIES
+
+                         By EDWARD STRATEMEYER.
+
+      Three Volumes. Cloth. Illustrated. Price per volume, $1.00.
+
+THE LAST CRUISE OF THE SPITFIRE Or Luke Foster’s Strange Voyage.
+
+REUBEN STONE’S DISCOVERY Or The Young Miller of Torrent Bend.
+
+TRUE TO HIMSELF Or Roger Strong’s Struggle for Place. (_In press._)
+
+
+     PRESS OPINIONS OF EDWARD STRATEMEYER’S BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE.
+
+“Mr. Edward Stratemeyer is in danger of becoming very popular among the
+young people of the country.”――_Burlington_ (Iowa) _Hawk-eye_.
+
+
+“‘The Last Cruise of the Spitfire’ is of deep interest to the bounding
+heart of an enthusiastic boy. The book leaves a good impression on
+a boy’s mind, as it teaches the triumph of noble deeds and true
+heroism.”――_Kansas City_ (Mo.) _Times_.
+
+
+“Let us mention in passing two admirable books for boys, ‘Reuben Stone’s
+Discovery’ and ‘Oliver Bright’s Search,’ by Edward Stratemeyer, with
+whom we are all acquainted. This last bit of his work is especially
+good, and the boy who gets one of these volumes will become very popular
+among his fellows until the book is worn threadbare.”――_N. Y. Herald._
+
+
+“A good sea-tale for boys is ‘The Last Cruise of the Spitfire,’ by
+Edward Stratemeyer. There is plenty of adventure in it, a shipwreck, a
+cruise on a raft, and other stirring perils of the deep.”――_Detroit_
+(Mich.) _Journal_.
+
+
+“In a simple, plain, straightforward manner, Mr. Edward Stratemeyer
+endeavors to show his boy readers what persistency, honesty, and
+willingness to work have accomplished for his young hero, and his
+moral is evident. Mr. Stratemeyer is very earnest and sincere in his
+portraiture of young character beginning to shape itself to weather
+against the future. A book of this sort is calculated to interest boys,
+to feed their ambition with hope, and to indicate how they must fortify
+themselves against the wiles of vice.”――_Boston Herald._
+
+
+_For sale by all booksellers, or sent, postpaid, on receipt of price by_
+
+                       LEE & SHEPARD, Publishers,
+                                BOSTON.
+
+
+
+
+ Transcriber’s Notes:
+
+ ――Text in italics is enclosed by underscores (_italics_).
+
+ ――Punctuation and spelling inaccuracies were silently corrected.
+
+ ――Archaic and variable spelling has been preserved.
+
+ ――Variations in hyphenation and compound words have been preserved.
+
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78934 ***
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+}
+
+/* Poetry indents */
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+.poetry .indent1 {padding-left: 3.5em;}
+
+/* Transcriber's notes */
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+    background-color: #E6E6FA;
+    margin-left: 10%;
+    margin-right: 10%;
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+
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+
+    </style>
+</head>
+
+
+<body>
+<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78934 ***</div>
+
+
+
+<figure class="figcenter x-ebookmaker-drop" id="cover_sm">
+  <img class="x-ebookmaker-drop" src="images/cover_sm.jpg" alt="book cover" title="book cover">
+</figure>
+
+
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p class="noi adfrntbl">EDWARD STRATEMEYER’S BOOKS</p>
+
+<p class="noi adseries oldenglish">Old Glory Series</p>
+
+<p class="noic"><i>Cloth &#160;&#160; Illustrated &#160;&#160; Price per volume $1.25.</i></p>
+
+<ul>
+<li class="hang2">UNDER DEWEY AT MANILA Or the War Fortunes of a Castaway.</li>
+<li class="hang2">A YOUNG VOLUNTEER IN CUBA Or Fighting for the Single Star.</li>
+<li class="hang2">FIGHTING IN CUBAN WATERS Or Under Schley on the Brooklyn.</li>
+<li class="hang2">UNDER OTIS IN THE PHILIPPINES Or A Young Officer in the Tropics.
+(<i>In Press.</i>)</li>
+</ul>
+
+
+<p class="noi adseries oldenglish">The Bound to Succeed Series</p>
+
+<p class="noic"><i>Three volumes &#160;&#160; Cloth &#160;&#160; Illustrated &#160;&#160; Price per volume $1.00.</i></p>
+
+<ul>
+<li class="hang2">RICHARD DARE’S VENTURE Or Striking Out for Himself.</li>
+<li class="hang2">OLIVER BRIGHT’S SEARCH Or The Mystery of a Mine.</li>
+<li class="hang2">TO ALASKA FOR GOLD Or The Fortune Hunters of the Yukon.</li>
+</ul>
+
+
+<p class="noi adseries oldenglish">The Ship and Shore Series</p>
+
+<p class="noic"><i>Three volumes &#160;&#160; Cloth &#160;&#160; Illustrated &#160;&#160; Price per volume $1.00.</i></p>
+
+<ul>
+<li class="hang2">THE LAST CRUISE OF THE SPITFIRE Or Larry Foster’s Strange Voyage.</li>
+<li class="hang2">REUBEN STONE’S DISCOVERY Or The Young Miller of Torrent Bend.</li>
+<li class="hang2">TRUE TO HIMSELF Or Roger Strong’s Struggle for Place. (<i>In Press.</i>)</li>
+</ul>
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<figure class="figcenter" id="i_frontispiece">
+  <img src="images/i_frontispiece.jpg" alt="" title="">
+  <figcaption>
+    <p class="noic smcap"><a href="#Page_183">Oh, Luke! See the Stars and Stripes!</a></p>
+  </figcaption>
+</figure>
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+<p class="noi series oldenglish">Old Glory Series</p>
+
+<hr class="r30">
+
+<h1 class="nobreak">UNDER DEWEY AT MANILA</h1>
+
+<p class="noic">OR</p>
+
+<p class="noi subtitle smcap">The War Fortunes of a Castaway</p>
+
+<p class="p2 noic">BY</p>
+
+<p class="noi author">EDWARD STRATEMEYER</p>
+
+<p class="noic works">AUTHOR OF “A YOUNG VOLUNTEER IN CUBA” “FIGHTING IN CUBAN<br>
+WATERS” “RICHARD DARE’S VENTURE” “OLIVER BRIGHT’S<br>
+SEARCH” “TO ALASKA FOR GOLD” ETC.</p>
+
+<p class="p2 noic"><i>ILLUSTRATED BY</i></p>
+
+<p class="noic">A. B. SHUTE</p>
+
+<p class="p4 noic">BOSTON<br>
+LEE AND SHEPARD PUBLISHERS<br>
+1899</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p class="noic"><span class="smcap">Copyright, 1898, by Lee and Shepard.</span></p>
+
+<p class="noic"><i>All Rights Reserved.</i></p>
+
+<p class="noic"><span class="smcap">Under Dewey at Manila.</span></p>
+
+
+<p class="p6 noic"><span class="oldenglish">Norwood Press</span><br>
+J. S. Cushing &amp; Co.—Berwick &amp; Smith<br>
+Norwood Mass. U.S.A.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_iii">[iii]</span></p>
+
+  <h2 class="nobreak" id="PREFACE">
+    PREFACE
+  </h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>“Under Dewey at Manila,” the first of the
+“Old Glory Series,” was written with a twofold
+object. The first was, to present to young readers
+a simple and straightforward statement concerning
+the several causes leading up to the war with
+Spain; to give a brief view of the conditions prevailing
+in the ill-fated islands of Cuba and the
+Philippines; and to trace, incident by incident, just
+as they actually occurred, the progress of that wonderful
+battle of Manila Bay, which has no parallel
+in either ancient or modern history, from the fact
+that complete defeat upon one side was entirely outbalanced
+by almost total exemption from harm upon
+the other. In this battle Commodore Dewey, since
+made Admiral, and his gallant officers and men,
+fought a fight ever to be remembered with pride by
+the American people, for it placed the United States
+Navy in its proper place, among the leading navies
+of the world.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_iv">[iv]</span></p>
+
+<p>The other object of the story was to tell, in as
+interesting a fashion as the writer could command,
+the haps and mishaps of a sturdy, conscientious
+American lad, of good moral character and honest
+Christian aim, who, compelled through the force of
+circumstances to make his own way in the world,
+becomes a sailor boy, a castaway, and then a gunner’s
+assistant on the flagship <i>Olympia</i>. While it is true
+that Larry Russell has some hazardous adventures,
+the author believes that they are no more hazardous
+than might fall to the lot of another situated as
+Larry was; and if at times the boy escapes some
+grave perils, it must be borne in mind that “the
+Lord helps those who help themselves,” and that he
+had an abiding trust in an all-wise and all-powerful
+Providence.</p>
+
+<p>The author cannot refrain from saying a word
+regarding the historical portions of this work. What
+has been said concerning Cuba and the Philippines
+are simply matters of fact, known to all students of
+history. The sketch of Admiral Dewey is drawn
+from the narratives of several people who knew him
+well at his home in Montpelier, Vermont, at the
+Annapolis Naval Academy, and in the Navy itself.
+The record of the battle of Manila Bay has been
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_v">[v]</span>furnished by over fifty officers and men who took
+part in the contest and wrote the details, for publication,
+and in private letters to relatives at home,
+and this record has been supplemented by Admiral
+Dewey’s own reports to the authorities at Washington.</p>
+
+<p class="right">EDWARD STRATEMEYER.</p>
+
+<p class="works"><span class="smcap">Newark, N.J.</span>, August 1, 1898.</p>
+
+
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_vi"></a><a id="Page_vii"></a>[vii]</span></p>
+
+  <h2 class="nobreak" id="CONTENTS">
+    CONTENTS
+  </h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<table>
+<col style="width: 20%;">
+<col style="width: 70%;">
+<col style="width: 10%;">
+<tr>
+  <th class="pr smfontr">CHAPTER</th>
+  <th class="tdl"></th>
+  <th class="smfontr">PAGE</th>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="tdrt">I.</td>
+  <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_I">Larry and his Trials</a></td>
+  <td class="tdrb">1</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="tdrt">II.</td>
+  <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">An Adventure on Pali</a></td>
+  <td class="tdrb">11</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="tdrt">III.</td>
+  <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_III">A Fruitless Chase</a></td>
+  <td class="tdrb">23</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="tdrt">IV.</td>
+  <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">Larry receives Two Interesting Letters</a></td>
+  <td class="tdrb">33</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="tdrt">V.</td>
+  <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_V">Something about the Destruction of the “Maine”</a></td>
+  <td class="tdrb">44</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="tdrt">VI.</td>
+  <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">A Brush with Two Kanakas</a></td>
+  <td class="tdrb">52</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="tdrt">VII.</td>
+  <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">Good-by to Honolulu</a></td>
+  <td class="tdrb">63</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="tdrt">VIII.</td>
+  <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">An Unwelcome Shipmate</a></td>
+  <td class="tdrb">73</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="tdrt">IX.</td>
+  <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">A Talk about the Troubles in Cuba</a></td>
+  <td class="tdrb">81</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="tdrt">X.</td>
+  <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_X">Attacked in a Storm</a></td>
+  <td class="tdrb">92</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="tdrt">XI.</td>
+  <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">A Race and an Interruption</a></td>
+  <td class="tdrb">102</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="tdrt">XII.</td>
+  <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">The Capture of a Sawfish</a></td>
+  <td class="tdrb">112</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="tdrt">XIII.</td>
+  <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">An Island not altogether Deserted</a></td>
+  <td class="tdrb">123</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="tdrt">XIV.</td>
+  <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">The Philippine Islands and the Rebels</a></td>
+  <td class="tdrb">133</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="tdrt">XV.</td>
+  <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XV">Alone on the China Sea</a></td>
+  <td class="tdrb">145</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="tdrt">XVI.</td>
+  <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">Cast Ashore on an Island</a></td>
+  <td class="tdrb">154</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="tdrt">XVII.</td>
+  <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">The Story of a Long Tramp</a></td>
+  <td class="tdrb">164</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="tdrt">XVIII.</td>
+  <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">The Asiatic Squadron to the Rescue</a></td>
+  <td class="tdrb">174</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="tdrt">XIX.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_viii">[viii]</span></td>
+  <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIX">The Mission of the Squadron</a></td>
+  <td class="tdrb">184</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="tdrt">XX.</td>
+  <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XX">On Board the Flagship “Olympia”</a></td>
+  <td class="tdrb">195</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="tdrt">XXI.</td>
+  <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXI">Something about Commodore Dewey</a></td>
+  <td class="tdrb">204</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="tdrt">XXII.</td>
+  <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXII">In which Larry and Striker are added to the
+“Olympia’s” Muster-roll</a></td>
+  <td class="tdrb">214</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="tdrt">XXIII.</td>
+  <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIII">Gun Drills and Life on a Man-o’-war</a></td>
+  <td class="tdrb">223</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="tdrt">XXIV.</td>
+  <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIV">“Clear Ship for Action!”</a></td>
+  <td class="tdrb">232</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="tdrt">XXV.</td>
+  <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXV">The Spanish Fleet is discovered off Fort Cavite</a></td>
+  <td class="tdrb">243</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="tdrt">XXVI.</td>
+  <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXVI">The Battle of Manila Bay</a></td>
+  <td class="tdrb">252</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="tdrt">XXVII.</td>
+  <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXVII">Additional Incidents of the Great Battle</a></td>
+  <td class="tdrb">262</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="tdrt">XXVIII.</td>
+  <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXVIII">On to Hong Kong—Conclusion</a></td>
+  <td class="tdrb">271</td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+
+
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_ix">[ix]</span></p>
+
+  <h2 class="nobreak" id="ILLUSTRATIONS">
+    LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
+  </h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<table>
+<colgroup>
+<col style="width: 90%;">
+<col style="width: 10%;">
+</colgroup>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl hang"><a href="#i_frontispiece">“‘Oh, Luke! See the Stars and Stripes!’”</a></td>
+<td class="tdrb"><i>Frontispiece</i></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<th>&#160;</th>
+<th class="smfontr">PAGE</th>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl hang"><a href="#i_fp044">“‘It ain’t the Cubans I’m talking about now’”</a></td>
+<td class="tdrb">44</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl hang"><a href="#i_fp095">“‘Don’t!’ gasped the boy. ‘Oh, you villain! Don’t!’”</a></td>
+<td class="tdrb">95</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl hang"><a href="#i_fp130">“The boatswain opened fire with the shotgun”</a></td>
+<td class="tdrb">130</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl hang"><a href="#i_fp152">“The life-preserver floated but a short distance away”</a></td>
+<td class="tdrb">152</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl hang"><a href="#i_fp174">“The boat lay on her side, half in and half out of
+the water”</a></td>
+<td class="tdrb">174</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl hang"><a href="#i_fp215">“‘Commodore, it’s jest come into my mind to ask ye
+a favor’”</a></td>
+<td class="tdrb">215</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl hang"><a href="#i_fp263">“‘Don’t fire! Don’t fire!’”</a></td>
+<td class="tdrb">263</td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+
+
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_1">[1]</span></p>
+
+<p class="noi title">UNDER DEWEY AT MANILA</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter" id="i_chdeco">
+  <img class="illowe10" src="images/i_chdeco.jpg"
+       alt="chap decor" title="chap decor">
+</figure>
+
+  <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_I">
+    CHAPTER I
+    <br>
+    <small>LARRY AND HIS TRIALS</small>
+  </h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>“Well, my boy, what is it?”</p>
+
+<p>“I stopped in to see if there was any opening, sir,
+that I might fill. I’m willing to work hard for small
+wages.”</p>
+
+<p>The man addressed shook his head slowly. “There
+is no opening. Times are bad, and it is all I can do
+to keep my regular help employed. Better try your
+luck down in Honolulu.”</p>
+
+<p>“I’ve been through the city from end to end. It’s
+the same story everywhere,” answered the youth,
+soberly. “I thought there might be a chance up
+here at the Pali; so many carriages coming and
+going. I’m used to horses, too.”</p>
+
+<p>“Do you belong in Honolulu?”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_2">[2]</span></p>
+
+<p>“Hardly; although I’ve been there for nearly a
+month now. I came in on the bark <i>Rescue</i>, Captain
+Morgan, from San Francisco.”</p>
+
+<p>“As a passenger?”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, no; as a foremast hand. Didn’t have money
+to pay my passage.”</p>
+
+<p>“Why didn’t you stay on the bark?”</p>
+
+<p>“She has been condemned and is laid up for
+repairs. She’ll not be able to go to sea for two or
+three months.”</p>
+
+<p>“And you’ve got to hustle in the mean time, eh?
+It’s hard luck for a boy of your age, sure enough.
+Can’t you get another berth?”</p>
+
+<p>“I haven’t tried yet. Captain Morgan was a very
+nice man to sail under, and I’ll stick to him if I
+can. Besides, I thought I should like to stay in the
+Hawaiian Islands for a bit and look around. They
+tell me there is nothing like looking around.”</p>
+
+<p>“That’s true; although it’s also true that a rover
+never gets a pocket full of money.” The man hesitated
+and glanced sharply at the boy, who looked
+hot and tired. “Did you tramp from down in
+town?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, sir.”</p>
+
+<p>“It’s a good six miles, and all up hill at that.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_3">[3]</span>Come in and have a bit to eat. It won’t cost you
+anything.”</p>
+
+<p>The invitation was well meant, but the boy shook
+his curly head decidedly. “I’m not that kind—thank
+you just the same. If you’ve got any work—”</p>
+
+<p>“I’ll let you work it out. Come.”</p>
+
+<p>The boy and the man had been standing in front
+of a long, low one-story building, set close to a broad
+highway, and surrounded by tall palm and other
+tropical trees. On one side of the structure were
+accommodations for a dozen or more horses, and on
+the other a small restaurant where light refreshments
+of various kinds were to be had.</p>
+
+<p>The spot was an ideal one, near the brow of a
+lofty precipice standing out twelve hundred feet
+above sea-level, and overlooking a vast expanse of
+the mighty Pacific Ocean. Here the island of Oahu,
+upon which Honolulu, the principal city of the Hawaiian
+Islands, is situated, seemed to split in two,
+and the sun, glaring down upon that afternoon, lit
+up one side and cast the other into the deepest of
+shades.</p>
+
+<p>“You’ve been in Honolulu a month, eh?” went
+on the man, as he motioned the lad to a seat by a
+side-table, and brought him several dishes which
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_4">[4]</span>were already prepared. “Then you’ve been up
+here before?”</p>
+
+<p>“No, sir, I haven’t been anywhere but to Hilo
+and to the great volcano. I had a chance to take
+the trip to Hilo on a lumber boat, and I took it,
+just to take a run up to Kilauea. My, but that
+volcano is a grand sight!” and the boy shook
+his head enthusiastically.</p>
+
+<p>“It’s the greatest volcano in the world. Evidently
+you like to travel around.”</p>
+
+<p>“I do.”</p>
+
+<p>“You’re an American, I take it?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, sir, and I guess you are, too.”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, but I’m not from the States. I came from
+Canada. I’ve been in the Sandwich Islands eight
+years now, doing one thing and another. I used to
+have a restaurant down in Honolulu, but the Chinese
+cut me out of my trade, and so I thought I’d try my
+luck up here. But business is awfully dull. Everybody
+said it would be better after the monarchy
+was overthrown and we had set up our own republic,
+but I don’t find it so.”</p>
+
+<p>“I guess they are going to annex Hawaii to the
+United States—at least, I heard them talk about
+it in San Francisco, and down in Honolulu.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_5">[5]</span></p>
+
+<p>“I shouldn’t be surprised. I don’t care, one way
+or the other, if only times pick up. I’m alone in
+the world, but I want to make my living and a little
+besides, if I can. Last month we had quite a few
+excursion parties up here,—folks from the Australian
+steamers and others,—but this month there
+hasn’t been anybody but city folks, and they either
+don’t want anything or else bring it along.”</p>
+
+<p>“The Pali ought to be a big attraction, to my
+notion,” answered the boy, as he fell to eating, with
+more good manners than the average ship hand, as
+Ralph Harmon noticed. “Captain Morgan was telling
+me about it—how King Kamehameha the First
+gathered his fellow-tribesmen around him in the valley
+and fought the savage hosts of the mighty Oahu and
+literally drove them over the edge of the precipice.
+That must have been a battle worth looking at.”</p>
+
+<p>“There was nobody here to look at it but those
+that took part—and it happened a good many years
+ago. Here, have another cup of coffee; it will do
+you good.” The coffee was served; Ralph Harmon
+looked out of the doorway, to find the broad highway
+still deserted, and dropped into a nearby
+rustic chair. “So you’re from San Francisco?” he
+continued.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_6">[6]</span></p>
+
+<p>“I shipped from San Francisco, but I’m not from
+there originally. I came from Buffalo, New York.”</p>
+
+<p>“You’re a good distance from home.”</p>
+
+<p>“I haven’t any home there, any more.” The boy
+stopped eating and drew a deep breath. “No, I
+haven’t any home anywhere,” he added, in a lower
+tone. “I’m what they call a rolling stone.”</p>
+
+<p>“What is your name? Mine is Ralph Harmon,
+as you probably know by the sign over the door.”</p>
+
+<p>“My name is Lawrence Russell—although everyone
+that knows me calls me Larry. I used to have
+as nice a home as anybody in Buffalo, but that’s
+some years ago.”</p>
+
+<p>“I’ll wager you have quite a story to tell—if
+you’ve a mind to spin the yarn, as you sailors
+call it.”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, I have a story; but whether it would interest
+a stranger or not I don’t know, Mr. Harmon. I
+ran away from home, or rather, from what was supposed
+to be my home, after my mother died.”</p>
+
+<p>“Running away isn’t, generally speaking, a good
+business, Larry.”</p>
+
+<p>“I know it, and I wouldn’t have gone only I was
+forced to it. You see, I never knew what it was to
+have a father. My father died when I was a baby,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_7">[7]</span>and I lived with my mother until I was thirteen
+years old, when she was killed in a railroad accident,
+and then I was turned over to my uncle, Job
+Dowling, my mother’s half-brother. He was a very
+queer man,—the neighbors called him a crank,—and
+he was so miserly that living with him was
+entirely out of the question.”</p>
+
+<p>“So you cut sticks, to use another of your sailor
+sayings.”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, I cut sticks, and so did my two brothers,
+Ben and Walter. None of us could stand his—his
+infernal meanness—I can’t find any other word to
+describe it. We had money coming to us, but he
+didn’t half clothe us, nor feed us; and whenever the
+least thing went wrong he had his cane ready, and
+would strike at one or the other with all his might.
+Once he hit Ben in the arm and nearly broke it.
+But I went for him then, and threw him down, and
+Ben got away. That capped the climax, and he was
+in for having us all arrested, but before he could do
+it, Ben and Walter ran away, and I left about three
+months later.”</p>
+
+<p>“And where are your brothers?”</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t know exactly, excepting that Ben said
+he was going to try his luck in New York, and
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_8">[8]</span>Walter said he was going to Boston. I wanted to
+follow Ben to New York, but when I ran away, my
+uncle came after me, and I hid in a freight car partly
+filled with boxes of mineral water, and before I knew
+it I was locked in and rolling westward at the rate
+of thirty miles an hour. Try my best, I couldn’t get
+out nor make anybody hear me, and I should have
+starved to death if it hadn’t been for the mineral
+water and a lot of eating that I had along, for I had
+expected to tramp to New York.”</p>
+
+<p>“And when you reached San Francisco, you
+shipped on the <i>Rescue</i>?”</p>
+
+<p>“Not right away. I worked at several odd jobs,
+hoping to earn enough to pay my way to New York.
+Then one day I fell in with Captain Morgan, and
+took the notion to ship to Honolulu and back, and
+here I am—and likely to stay for a while,” concluded
+Larry.</p>
+
+<p>“How did you like the water?”</p>
+
+<p>“First rate. You see, I was rather used to it—for
+I was around the lake at home a good deal. But
+I should like to hear from my brothers.”</p>
+
+<p>“Have you tried to reach them by letters?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes; I wrote to New York and Boston from San
+Francisco, and also from Honolulu, as soon as I
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_9">[9]</span>arrived. Before they left we arranged between us to
+write. I wish we had all remained together.” The
+youth finished his meal, then arose, and began to
+gather up the dishes. “I’m much obliged, Mr.
+Harmon. Now I’ll wash the things up, and then
+you can let me do that work we spoke of.”</p>
+
+<p>“There isn’t much to do. I was going to split up
+some of the logs in the back for firewood. You
+might do a little of that.” The proprietor of the
+wayside resort arose and stretched himself. “To
+tell the truth, I never supposed it could get so dull.
+If it keeps so—Hullo, here comes a carriage-load
+of folks now! By George, look!”</p>
+
+<p>He ran to the doorway and pointed with his finger.
+Larry Russell followed, and through the dust saw a
+large carriage containing three men approaching at a
+breakneck speed. It was moving to one side of the
+highway, and two of the wheels were constantly
+bumping over the rocks in a fashion calculated to
+overturn the vehicle.</p>
+
+<p>“Those horses are running away!” gasped the
+boy. “See, the reins are dangling on the ground!”
+And he ran out into the road in front of the building.</p>
+
+<p>“Help! stop the hosses!” sang out a voice full
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_10">[10]</span>of terror from the carriage. “Whoa, there, whoa,
+consarn ye! Whoa!”</p>
+
+<p>“They are making for yonder gully!” burst out
+the keeper of the resort. “If the carriage goes into
+that, they’ll all be smashed up! The gully is fifty
+feet deep!”</p>
+
+<p>“I’ll stop them if I can!” came from Larry
+Russell’s lips, and with a sudden determination he
+bounded off in the direction of the runaway team.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_11">[11]</span></p>
+
+  <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_II">
+    CHAPTER II
+    <br>
+    <small>AN ADVENTURE ON PALI</small>
+  </h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>Larry Russell was a youth of sixteen, tall,
+broad-shouldered, and of good weight. His curly
+hair was of deep brown, as was also the color of his
+eyes, and his handsome, manly face was thoroughly
+tanned by constant exposure to the sun.</p>
+
+<p>As the youth had said, he was one of three
+brothers, of whom Ben was the oldest and Walter
+next. The boys had never known what it was to
+have a sister, and now they were entirely alone in
+the world, saving for the step-uncle Larry had
+mentioned.</p>
+
+<p>The boys had been brought up in a home which
+was comfortable if not elegant, and during her life
+Mrs. Russell had been all that a devoted mother can
+be, giving the lads a good education and a strict
+moral and religious training as well. Taking after
+their father, who had been a great traveller, the
+boys were inclined to be of a roving nature, but this
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_12">[12]</span>spirit had been constantly curbed by the mother,
+who dreaded to think of having any one of them
+leave her.</p>
+
+<p>At Mrs. Russell’s untimely death, life had
+changed for her sons as a summer sky changes
+when a cold and wild thunder storm rushes on.
+The pleasant home had been broken up by the harsh
+and dictatorial Job Dowling, a man who thought
+of nothing but to make money and save it. He
+took charge of everything, sold off the household
+treasures at the highest possible prices, placed the
+cash in the best of the Buffalo banks, and took the
+boys to live with him in a tumble-down cottage
+on a side street, presided over by an old Irishwoman,
+for Dowling was a bachelor.</p>
+
+<p>The first strife had arisen from the selling of
+some little articles which had belonged to Mrs. Russell’s
+personal effects, and which the boys wished to
+save as keepsakes. “It’s all foolishness, a-keepin’
+of ’em,” Job Dowling had cried. “I won’t cater to
+no such softheartedness. I’ll sell the things and put
+the money in the bank, where it will be a-drawin’
+interest;” and this he did with the majority of the
+articles. A few the boys hid, and these were all that
+were left to them when the final break-up came.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_13">[13]</span></p>
+
+<p>Larry had told but a small portion of the particulars
+concerning that quarrel—leaving out how
+Job Dowling had struck him senseless with his cane,
+and how he had recovered to find himself a prisoner
+in the garret of the cottage, with his step-uncle
+gone off to swear out a warrant for his arrest. It
+had been an easy matter for the lad to escape from
+the garret by dropping from the window to the
+roof of the kitchen addition, and with the housekeeper
+also gone, to the market, the boy had had
+matters his own way in supplying himself with food.
+The chase to the freight yard had been a close one,
+and he had been all but exhausted when the door
+was shut and locked and the long train rolled on
+its way.</p>
+
+<p>The train had taken him only as far as Oakland,
+and there he had remained for several days, with
+not enough money to take him across the bay to
+the metropolis of the Golden Gate. Hard times
+had followed,—for runaways do not always fare so
+well as boys imagine they do,—and more than once
+Larry had crept away to some secluded corner, to
+go to sleep whenever the pangs of hunger would
+allow. It was hunger as much as anything else
+which had driven him to accept the offer to ship
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_14">[14]</span>with Captain Morgan, and the first square meal
+he had had for ten days had been eaten in the
+dingy forecastle of the <i>Rescue</i>.</p>
+
+<p>Yet life on shipboard had pleased him greatly,
+and with the knowledge derived from days spent
+upon Lake Erie he had soon learned to do his full
+duty as a foremast hand, and as he was both strong
+and fearless, the climbing of the shrouds and the
+taking in of sail in the teeth of a storm had no
+terrors for him.</p>
+
+<p>The calculation had been that the <i>Rescue</i> would
+not remain at Honolulu more than two weeks, before
+starting on the return to San Francisco, but
+a fierce gale had opened some of her seams, and
+after unloading, an inspection had showed that she
+must undergo a thorough overhauling before putting
+to sea again, or else run the risk of sinking
+in mid ocean. Upon learning this, Captain Morgan
+had put her into the basin at the ship-yard, and
+told the crew that they could either wait until
+repairs were finished or ship elsewhere, just as
+they chose.</p>
+
+<p>The first few days spent in and around the
+capital city of the Hawaiian, or Sandwich, Islands
+had pleased Larry greatly, for there was so much
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_15">[15]</span>to see that was new and strange. In San Francisco
+he had met many Chinese and Japanese, but here
+in addition were the Kanakas, the natives of the
+Islands, a race quite distinct in itself, although
+allied to the Maoris of New Zealand. He had seen
+them first in the bay, hundreds of them swimming
+about,—for the native Hawaiian takes to the sea
+like a fish,—their heads bobbing up and down like
+so many cocoanuts.</p>
+
+<p>The city itself was also of interest, with its
+broad, smooth streets, lined with stately palms, and
+dotted everywhere with broad, low villas and huts,
+each in a veritable bower of green. Down in the
+business portion the stores were very much like
+those in a small American city, excepting that
+they were kept by all sorts of people,—Kanakas,
+Americans, Germans, Frenchmen, and numerous
+Chinese and Japanese. It was not an uncommon
+thing to hear two men talking, each in a different
+language, yet each understanding the other. On
+his first trips around he had visited the Royal
+Palace, now the abode of royalty no longer, the
+Government Buildings on Palace Square and King
+Street, and also the quaint Kawhaiahoa church, a
+structure composed entirely of coral, and erected
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_16">[16]</span>by the natives shortly after the missionaries arrived
+and prevailed upon them to give up idolatry.</p>
+
+<p>Then had come the chance to sail to Hilo, a
+town situated upon the eastern coast of Hawaii, the
+largest of the group of islands. Arriving there,
+he had had time enough to travel on horseback
+with a small party to the great volcano. It was
+a two days’ journey, and at night the party slept
+in a native hut, under <i>kapas</i>, or bark cloths, and
+in the morning Larry had his first taste of the great
+national dish, <i>poi</i>, which did not suit him at all,
+although the natives and some others eat it with
+great relish.</p>
+
+<p>The journey to the volcano was a hard one, but
+once arriving at the top, the youth felt himself well
+repaid for his trouble. He was nearly forty-five
+hundred feet above sea-level, and before him was
+stretched the grand crater of Kilauea, nine miles
+in diameter, with the active portion, called Hale-mau-mau,
+or House of Everlasting Fire, occupying
+one portion of it. Nearly a day was spent here,
+and Larry went down into the silent depths of the
+crater, approaching so closely to the terrible fires
+that his shoes were burnt from the heat of the
+lava beds upon which he trod.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_17">[17]</span></p>
+
+<p>The youth had sought to obtain work at the
+Volcano House, a hostelry situated upon the brink
+of the volcano, but here it was the same tale that
+was told to him at Pali—the season was dull and
+no extra help was wanted. So he went back to
+Hilo, a little place set in a wilderness of tropical
+growth, and returned to Honolulu on the lumber
+boat.</p>
+
+<p>The trip to Hilo had brought him in nothing in
+cash, for he had offered his services in return for
+the passage, and when he reached Honolulu again
+he found that all he had left out of his ship’s
+wages was six dollars and a half. “I’ll have to
+economize,” he thought, and sought out the cheapest
+boarding-house he could find. The place was
+full of sailors, and the next morning he awoke to
+find that he had been robbed and that his room-mate,
+a burly foreigner, was missing. He had at
+once reported his loss, but it did no good; and
+he found himself out in the streets penniless.</p>
+
+<p>Larry might have applied to Captain Morgan
+for a loan, but such was not his habit, and he set
+to work manfully to make the best of the situation.
+For several days he tramped here, there, and everywhere,
+doing what he could to pick up a living,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_18">[18]</span>until at last he came to the resort kept by Ralph
+Harmon, as already described. And here we will
+rejoin him, at the moment he resolved to stop the
+runaway horses, did it lie in his power.</p>
+
+<p>“Look out for yourself,” cried Ralph Harmon,
+as he came after Larry. “If you don’t, those
+beasts will trample you under foot.”</p>
+
+<p>“Whoa! whoa!” went on the excited man on the
+front seat of the carriage. “Consarn ye, whoa!”</p>
+
+<p>He was evidently a nautical fellow, for he was
+dressed like a son of the sea. He was standing up,
+waving his hands frantically. On the rear seat of
+the carriage crouched his two companions, evidently
+too scared to speak or move.</p>
+
+<p>To Ralph Harmon’s words, and to the yells from
+the turnout, Larry answered not a word, knowing
+that it would be a sheer waste of breath. But he
+continued to cover the ground at a lively gait, and
+as he ran he pulled off his coat.</p>
+
+<p>“You’ll be killed!” screamed Harmon, as the
+boy stepped almost directly in front of the team.
+Then the man saw the coat sail up in the air and
+land over the head of the nearest horse. As the
+animal paused at having the light so suddenly shut
+from his view, Larry leaped upon his back.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_19">[19]</span></p>
+
+<p>“Good for you, boy! Now stop ’em!” shouted
+the nautical fellow on the front seat. “Stop ’em,
+and I’ll give you a five-dollar gold piece, as sure as
+my name is Captain Nat Ponsberry!”</p>
+
+<p>“I’ll stop them if there is any stop to them!”
+panted Larry, for the run and the leap had somewhat
+winded him. “Whoa, now, my beauties,
+whoa!” he went on, soothingly, at the same time
+reaching for the reins.</p>
+
+<p>“We’re going into yonder gully!” suddenly
+shouted one of the men on the back seat. “We
+must jump, or we will be killed!”</p>
+
+<p>“No, no, don’t jump,” answered his companion,
+a man dressed in clerical black. “The boy will
+stop the horses; see, he has the reins already;” and
+he added a half-audible prayer for their safe deliverance.</p>
+
+<p>It was true that Larry had the lines, but the
+coat had fallen to the ground, the horses still held
+their bits between their teeth, and it looked as if
+they did not intend to give in just then. The
+brink of the gully swept closer and closer. Now
+it was a hundred feet away—now but fifty—and
+now twenty-five. The boy’s face paled, and he
+gave an extra pull upon the reins of one horse, and
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_20">[20]</span>the carriage swerved just a bit to the left, but not
+enough—and they swept nearer.</p>
+
+<p>“Get over there!” he yelled, and hit the horse
+on the side of the head with all the force of his
+naked fist. It was a cruel blow, and it skinned
+his knuckles, while the animal staggered as though
+struck with a club. But the blow told, the team
+turned,—the punished beast dragging his mate,—and
+the turnout swept past the edge of the gully
+with less than two feet to spare! A hundred feet
+further on the runaways came to a standstill, and
+Larry slid to the ground.</p>
+
+<p>“Young man, you have saved our lives,” cried
+the nautical fellow, as soon as he could speak, and
+lumbering out of the carriage he ran up and
+assisted Larry in holding the team, which were all
+a-quiver with excitement, and covered with foam.</p>
+
+<p>“I reckon they are about run out, sir,” answered
+the youth, as coolly as he could. “How did they
+happen to break away?”</p>
+
+<p>“I guess it was my fault,” answered Captain Nat
+Ponsberry, somewhat sheepishly. “You see, I ain’t
+much used to hosses, and the steerin’ of ’em rather
+bothered me, and I worried ’em until they jest
+wouldn’t stand it no longer. Parson, I ought to
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_21">[21]</span>have let you drive, or Tom Grandon,” he continued
+to the others, who had also alighted.</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t know any more about horses than you
+do, Nat,” said the man addressed as Grandon,
+also a sailor, by his general appearance. “Don’t
+catch me riding out behind such a mettlesome team
+again! What do you think, Mr. Wells?”</p>
+
+<p>“I think the boy has done us all a great service,”
+answered the Rev. Martin Wells, soberly. “Were
+it not for his bravery, and the kindness of an
+all-wise Providence, we should at this moment be
+lying at the bottom of yonder gully suffering
+severe injuries, if not lifeless. I for one thank
+you from the bottom of my heart for what you
+have done,” he added, taking Larry’s hand warmly.
+“I shall remember you as long as I live.”</p>
+
+<p>He was so earnest that Larry blushed, although
+he knew not exactly why. The others also took
+him by the hand, while Ralph Harmon came forward,
+and, directed by Captain Ponsberry, turned
+the team and carriage into his stables.</p>
+
+<p>A few minutes later found the party inside the
+little wayside resort, where for some time they discussed
+the adventure and the part each one had
+played in it. They had come up to look over the
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_22">[22]</span>precipice, but a good deal of their interest in sight-seeing
+was now gone.</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t know as I care to drive those horses
+back to Honolulu,” remarked Captain Ponsberry,
+after he had insisted upon rewarding Larry by
+literally jamming a five-dollar gold piece down in
+his trousers pocket. “Have you got a man around
+here as can do it for us?” he asked of Ralph
+Harmon.</p>
+
+<p>“I will drive them down, if you’ll allow me,”
+put in Larry. “I am going down, and I’ll be glad
+of the ride. I’ll give you my word they won’t
+get away from me,” he added confidently.</p>
+
+<p>“There is no one around here now,” answered
+Harmon. “I have a native driver somewhere, but
+I am sorry to say he drinks and is not reliable.”</p>
+
+<p>“I shall feel safe with the boy,” put in the
+Rev. Martin Wells. “Don’t you say the same,
+Grandon?”</p>
+
+<p>“Why not, seeing how well he handled them
+before? Give the lad the job, Nat, and let us
+have the best to eat that the house affords;” the
+last words to the keeper of the resort, who at once
+bustled off to stir up his fire and his sleepy native
+cook at the same time.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_23">[23]</span></p>
+
+  <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_III">
+    CHAPTER III
+    <br>
+    <small>A FRUITLESS CHASE</small>
+  </h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>While the party of three ate the meal prepared
+for them, Larry worked at the rear of the
+wayside resort, chopping the wood Harmon had
+pointed out.</p>
+
+<p>With five dollars in his pocket the youth felt
+easy again. In Honolulu, where accommodations
+were cheap, five dollars would last a long while,
+and he felt that his luck was bound to change
+before the money was entirely gone.</p>
+
+<p>Close to where he worked was an open window,
+and from the conversation of the three he learned
+that Captain Nat Ponsberry was the commander
+and part owner of the <i>Columbia</i>, a three-masted
+schooner, which had just come into Honolulu from
+Panama, and was to leave the following week for
+Hong Kong, China. Tom Grandon was first mate
+of the schooner, and evidently he and the captain
+were old friends, both hailing from Gloucester, the
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_24">[24]</span>original home of the schooner build of sea-going
+vessels. The Rev. Martin Wells was to be a
+passenger, bound also for Hong Kong. He had
+been picked up in Honolulu, where he had been
+attached to the English missions. He was in no
+hurry to get to Hong Kong and had chosen the
+sailing-vessel because it was cheaper than the regular
+steamer, although, of course, not nearly so
+fast.</p>
+
+<p>The three made a pleasant party, both the captain
+and Tom Grandon being full of fun, and the
+clergyman not being above a joke himself, although
+never forgetting his cloth. More than once Larry
+found himself laughing at what was said, as each
+quizzed the others about being scared to death.</p>
+
+<p>“I’ll wager life on the <i>Columbia</i> isn’t as dull
+as it is on some vessels,” thought Larry, as he finished
+cutting the wood and hung up the axe. “I
+wish she was bound for San Francisco—I’d give
+the <i>Rescue</i> the go-by and strike Captain Ponsberry
+for a position. Even as it is I may strike him, if
+nothing better turns up, although I’ve no great
+hankering to visit the land of the heathen Chinee.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, Larry Russell, if that’s your name, I
+reckon as how it’s about time we boarded ship and
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_25">[25]</span>sailed for Honolulu!” cried Captain Ponsberry,
+after he and his companions had made a brief tour
+of the Pali. “I promised to be back to the <i>Columbia</i>
+by seven o’clock, and I’m a man as never
+breaks my word.”</p>
+
+<p>“I’ll have the team out in a jiffy,” answered
+the youth, and rushed around to the stable. The
+horses had been left in harness, and it was an easy
+task to hook them up. He drove around to the
+front of the resort, the three clambered in, and
+with a farewell to Ralph Harmon, and a rather
+unnecessary crack of the whip upon Larry’s part,
+they bowled off down the sweep of the road across
+which the stately palms were now casting long,
+wavering shadows.</p>
+
+<p>It was a beautiful drive, that down the Nuuanu
+Valley and into Nuuanu avenue, past lovely homes
+that have a perpetual summer, homes hedged in
+by palms and cacti, and here and there a field of
+bamboo, with vines clustering everywhere. In two
+places they passed large cemeteries, surrounded by
+tall, gray walls, overgrown with moss and guarded
+by long rows of solemn-looking cypresses; and then
+they came whirling down into the town proper, now
+silent and almost deserted, for the time for business
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_26">[26]</span>was over, and the workers had hied themselves to
+their homes, to the bathing-beach at Waikiki, or to
+some other place of amusement.</p>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">“Oh, had we some bright little isle of our own,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent1">In the blue summer ocean, far off and alone,”</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class="noi">quoted the Rev. Martin Wells, and then, as if fearing
+he was getting too sentimental, he quickly changed
+the subject. “Larry, you drive like a
+veteran. Do you own a horse?”</p>
+
+<p>“A horse? I? Hardly. Why, I’m—I’m—that
+is, I don’t own much of anything in this world—just
+now,” stammered the youth. “Steady, boys,
+steady; you’ve behaved well so far; don’t spoil your
+record,” he went on, to the team.</p>
+
+<p>“Do your family live here?” went on the inquisitive
+man in black.</p>
+
+<p>“No, sir, I have no family, only two brothers, who
+are miles and miles away from here. I am a sailor
+boy, but my boat is laid up for repairs, and so I’m
+knocking about earning a living as best I can.”</p>
+
+<p>“A sailor boy, eh?” put in Captain Ponsberry.
+“Why didn’t you say so afore, youngster? A
+sailor boy, and stopped those hosses that way!
+Well, I never! Reckon you’re a putty good hand
+afore the mast. What ship did you sail in?”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_27">[27]</span></p>
+
+<p>“The <i>Rescue</i>—Captain Morgan.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, yes, I heard tell she was laid up here—got
+knocked out in a southeaster—they’re putty bad
+around these parts, though they be wuss off the
+coast of Chili. So you’re one of his boys? Well,
+if you ain’t got much to do, come down and see me.
+We’re loading and unloading, you know.”</p>
+
+<p>“If you can give me work at that, I’ll jump at
+the job,” answered Larry, quickly. “I’d like to
+work out that five dollars, if nothing else.”</p>
+
+<p>“Now jess you stow it about the gold, lad; ye
+earned that fair and square, an’ more, too—eh, Parson?
+eh, Tom? Don’t you think our lives was
+worth—let me see—less’n two dollars each?”</p>
+
+<p>This was said so drolly Larry was compelled to
+laugh. “I wasn’t looking at it that way—it was a
+big price for stopping a team—I’d like to stop ’em
+every day in the week at that figure.”</p>
+
+<p>“God forbid!” murmured Mr. Wells. “You
+might slip down, and then—” he shook his head
+seriously. “Yes, yes, Captain Ponsberry, give him
+work by all means, if he wants it, and you have
+room for an extra hand.”</p>
+
+<p>“We’ll make room,” put in the mate of the
+<i>Columbia</i>. “There is one Kanaka in the gang isn’t
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_28">[28]</span>worth his salt. I’ll discharge him and Larry can
+come on first thing in the morning.”</p>
+
+<p>So it was arranged; and at the livery stable where
+the turnout had been hired the boy left the three
+men, feeling lighter in heart than he had for a long
+while. A week’s work would mean at least six to
+nine dollars in addition to the five given him, and
+who knew but that his newly made friends would
+put in a good word for him elsewhere, or Captain
+Ponsberry might even ask him to go on the Hong
+Kong trip. The more he thought of the trip, the
+more strongly did it appeal to him.</p>
+
+<p>“I might just as well see all of the world I can
+while I am at it,” he argued mentally. “It won’t
+do me much good to go back to San Francisco right
+away; for I can’t help Ben or Walter, and none of
+us can bring Uncle Job to terms until we are of age
+and can apply for a legal settlement of mother’s
+estate. If I went to Hong Kong with Captain
+Ponsberry, and he promised to bring me back here
+or to San Francisco, I know he would do it.”</p>
+
+<p>As I have mentioned, the business streets of the
+thriving seaport city were practically deserted, but
+up at Emma Square, a few blocks off, the native
+brass band was giving its weekly evening concert.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_29">[29]</span>Although not a musician himself, Larry loved to
+hear a band play, and he wandered off in the direction,
+to join the crowd that stood close to the performers.
+They were playing a popular air, which
+had drifted hither from London by way of New
+York, Chicago, and San Francisco, as such airs are
+bound to do. Larry had heard the same tune in
+Buffalo, ground out on a mechanical piano, and for
+a brief instant a spasm of homesickness passed over
+him.</p>
+
+<p>“Music seems to be the same, no matter where a
+fellow goes,” he thought. “What a conglomeration
+of people and what a lot of native children! The
+Kanakas must love music. Well, it’s nice enough
+for most—ha!”</p>
+
+<p>Larry broke off short, and pushed his way
+through the crowd to the other side of the bandstand.
+He had seen a face that he recognized only
+too well. It was the face of the foreign sailor who
+had been his room-mate on the night he had been
+robbed.</p>
+
+<p>“See here, I want to talk to you,” he said, catching
+the fellow by the sleeve of his pea-jacket.</p>
+
+<p>The man turned and cast a heavy pair of eyes
+upon him, eyes which peered from under bushy eyebrows.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_30">[30]</span>He was a Norwegian, Olan Oleson by name,
+and his reputation well fitted that which Larry had
+given him.</p>
+
+<p>“What you want?” asked Olan Oleson, grimly,
+evidently well understanding what was coming.</p>
+
+<p>“I want my money, that’s what I want,” demanded
+the youth, firmly.</p>
+
+<p>“Your money? I know notank about your
+money,” and the Norwegian shrugged his huge
+shoulders and attempted to turn away.</p>
+
+<p>“I say you do know,” cried Larry. “You just
+give it back to me, or I’ll have you locked up.”</p>
+
+<p>At this Olan Oleson scowled darkly. “You mak
+one mistak; I no tak your money,” he growled.
+“Let go!”</p>
+
+<p>He jerked himself free, and slipped through the
+crowd. But Larry was not to be shaken off thus
+easily, and he quickly followed, to catch the Norwegian
+again by the jacket just as the crowd was
+cleared.</p>
+
+<p>“You’ve got over six dollars belonging to me, and
+I’m bound to have it, you rascal,” he said. “Come,
+now, no more fooling. I’m not in the humor for
+it.”</p>
+
+<p>“You go way, boy, or maybe you get hurt,” returned
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_31">[31]</span>the Norwegian. “You mak big mistak—I
+never see you before.”</p>
+
+<p>“That isn’t true. You slept in the same room
+with me,—down to the Traveller’s Rest,—and you
+went through my clothes while I was asleep, and
+then got out. I’m going to have my money, or
+have the first policeman we meet lock you up.”</p>
+
+<p>The last words had scarcely left Larry’s lips
+when Olan Oleson drew back, at the same time
+putting forth one of his broad feet behind the
+youth. Then came a sudden and heavy shove,
+and Larry tripped over backwards, to fall with
+great force at full length.</p>
+
+<p>As the youth went down, his head struck the
+ground, and for a few seconds he was stunned and
+bewildered. Then he leaped up and gazed around
+him. The Norwegian was running down the
+highway as rapidly as his heavy weight and natural
+awkwardness would permit. He was off in
+the direction of the shipping.</p>
+
+<p>“He’s going to get aboard of his boat and hide,
+if he can,” thought Larry, and made after the
+man.</p>
+
+<p>Several squares were passed, and Larry was
+slowly gaining in his pursuit, when Olan Oleson
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_32">[32]</span>turned and darted into a side street which was
+but little better than an alleyway. In a few seconds
+more the boy reached the spot, to find the
+fellow had disappeared as completely as though
+the earth had swallowed him up.</p>
+
+<p>The side street was filled with little shops, kept
+by Chinese and the poorer class of Kanakas. It
+was a foul-smelling and vile-looking district, and
+Larry went in but the distance of a block.</p>
+
+<p>“I’ll not run any more risks,” he reasoned, as
+he retraced his steps. “Some of those chaps look
+evil enough to knock a fellow down on the slightest
+provocation. I might be robbed again, and
+that wouldn’t pay.”</p>
+
+<p>Nevertheless, as he walked away, and sought a
+respectable lodging-house in another part of the
+city, he determined to keep his eyes open for the
+Norwegian so long as he should remain in Honolulu.
+But never once did Larry dream of the
+important part Olan Oleson was to play in his
+future life, causing him some amazing adventures,
+and placing him in a position to take part in one
+of the greatest naval engagements of modern history.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_33">[33]</span></p>
+
+  <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_IV">
+    CHAPTER IV
+    <br>
+    <small>LARRY RECEIVES TWO INTERESTING LETTERS</small>
+  </h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>“Hurrah! Here’s luck at last! Two letters,
+and from Ben and Walter, by the handwriting!”</p>
+
+<p>Larry was standing in the handsome structure
+occupied by the Honolulu post-office department.
+He had just asked for letters, and the gentlemanly
+clerk had handed him two, each of goodly thickness,
+one marked New York and the other Boston.
+Both had come in on the mail steamer from San
+Francisco, which had arrived the evening previous.</p>
+
+<p>Hurrying to a secluded corner of the building,
+he tore open the letter from his oldest brother
+Ben; for both Larry and Walter had looked up
+to Ben ever since they could remember. The letter
+ran as follows:—</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>“<span class="smcap">My dear brother Larry</span>: After what
+seemed a long wait, I received your letter from
+San Francisco, telling how you had run away,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_34">[34]</span>and what trials and troubles you were having. I
+guess we are all having our hands full. I know
+I am.</p>
+
+<p>“Getting to New York was no picnic. I
+tramped as far as Middletown, where I found
+work in an auction store, working four days and
+earning my fare to the metropolis and a dollar
+over. When I reached New York I tramped
+around for three days without so much as a smell
+of an opening. By that time I was out of money,
+and I can tell you I was pretty well discouraged,
+too, when who should I meet on Broadway but
+Mr. Snodgrass, the man who used to have the
+hardware store in Buffalo. He asked me what I
+was doing in New York, and I told him I had
+come to seek my luck, but didn’t tell him how
+badly off I was. He told me he was in the wholesale
+hardware business, on Canal Street, and I
+could come and see him. I went, and am now
+working for him for six dollars per week, with
+some chance of a rise sooner or later. My boarding-house
+address is at the foot of this letter.
+The lady is very nice, and she cooks a good deal
+better than Mrs. Rafferty did.</p>
+
+<p>“I haven’t heard from Uncle Job since I left,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_35">[35]</span>and don’t want to at present. But some day I’ll
+go back and tell him what I think of him for
+treating us like so many dogs.</p>
+
+<p>“I suppose this letter will find you in Honolulu,
+or some other out-of-the-way place. What possessed
+you to turn sailor? In a letter I received
+from Walter he seems to have pretty much the
+same fever.</p>
+
+<p>“I see by the papers here that Hawaii may be
+annexed shortly to the United States, so if it is,
+you’ll still be somewhere in the Union, won’t you?
+The papers are also full of our trouble with Spain.
+Wouldn’t it be queer if the two nations should go
+to war? If they did, I think I’d drop my job and
+turn soldier.</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t know when we three will ever get together
+again, but I trust it will not be long, and
+in the mean time I intend to write to you often,
+and I want you to write also, both to me and
+to Walter. Write again as soon as you get this.</p>
+
+<p class="right">  Your loving brother <span class="smcap">Ben</span>.”</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>Larry drew a long sigh when he had finished
+the letter. It was written just as Ben usually
+talked, and in his mind’s eye he could imagine his
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_36">[36]</span>elder brother standing before him. So Ben was
+settled in the great metropolis, with no notion of
+a change, excepting he might be called upon to
+turn soldier. Well, there was small fear of there
+being any war with Spain, or any other country.
+So thought Larry, and his thoughts were not
+much different from those of many others until
+the thunderbolt broke.</p>
+
+<p>The letter from Walter took longer to peruse,
+for Walter always had so much to say, and wrote
+such a twisted hand, and Larry was compelled to
+laugh outright ere he was done. Certainly Walter
+had had his full share of adventures.</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>“What in creation made you ship to Honolulu?”
+he wrote. “Why, it’s almost half around
+the world, and you’ll make me a beggar with
+buying such high-priced postage stamps when I’m
+writing to you. I shouldn’t know where Honolulu
+was, only we’re all reading so much about
+the Hawaiian Islands these days. Why didn’t
+you ship to Alaska, or the North Pole, while you
+were at it? Better strike Peary for an opening
+on his next expedition to the land of ice.</p>
+
+<p>“Perhaps I didn’t have it as hard as you, or
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_37">[37]</span>Ben? After I left Ben,—I got a ride on the train
+from Middletown to Albany,—I just struck the
+worst luck a boy could imagine. My hat was
+the first thing that went—the wind blew it from
+the train—and on the outskirts of Albany I
+encountered a bull-dog that tore my clothing
+nearly to bits. A tramp saved me from the bull-dog,
+and I travelled with the tramp two days,
+when he obligingly walked off with my coat and
+all my money—forty-seven cents.</p>
+
+<p>“How I got to Boston at last would fill a volume.
+I have been a farmhand, a glazier (put in
+two panes of glass for an old lady, who had the
+glass, but not the skill), a blacksmith (helped at
+a country smithy two days, when the regular
+helper came back), a florist (worked three days
+in a greenhouse, and got no pay, because I knocked
+a lot of pots down with a step-ladder), and a deckhand
+on a river steamboat. Now, at last, I am
+here in Boston, helping an old sailor, with one leg,
+that has a large news-stand (the sailor, not the leg).
+The sailor’s name is Phil Newell, and he was all
+through the Civil War. You just ought to hear
+him tell about fighting and narrow escapes from
+the enemy! He knows all about the war between
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_38">[38]</span>Spain and the Cuban insurgents, and he’s certain
+the United States will get mixed up in the row
+sooner or later. If we do, he says I ought to go
+as a sailor on a man-o’-war, and I don’t know but
+that I will; for, according to Newell, it’s the most
+glorious life on the face of the earth. Who knows
+but that I might come out a captain or a commodore,
+eh?</p>
+
+<p>“I know there is no use in speaking of Uncle Job,
+for Ben will write about that, and I can’t think of
+the mean old fellow without getting mad clear to
+my finger-tips. Perhaps that isn’t just Christian-like;
+but really, isn’t he the worst that ever was?
+And to think he was going to have you arrested!
+He ought to be arrested himself—for breaking up
+our home, putting all the money in the bank, and
+making us live as though we were next door to
+beggars. But never mind; a day of reckoning will
+come.</p>
+
+<p>“But I must close up now,—the stand, I mean,—and
+I’ll close up the letter, too. Good-by, and take
+care of yourself, and write often, above all things,
+for it’s mighty lonely being by one’s self, isn’t it?”</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>“Dear old Walter, that sounds like him,” murmured
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_39">[39]</span>Larry, as he stuck the epistle back into its
+envelope. There was something very much like a
+tear in his brown eyes. “It would be awfully nice
+if we were together again, and mother was alive!”</p>
+
+<p>Larry had stopped at the post-office as soon as
+it was open in the morning, just as he had stopped
+every morning since he had been in Honolulu.
+Now, putting his letters away, he hurried on, bound
+for the dock at which the <i>Columbia</i> lay.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, I see you’re on hand,” was Tom Grandon’s
+greeting when he appeared. “You can get right
+to work, if you will. I’ve sent that good-for-nothing
+Kanaka about his business.”</p>
+
+<p>“Me take Kuola’s place,” said a thick voice at
+Grandon’s elbow, and both Larry and the mate of
+the <i>Columbia</i> turned, to find a dusky, fat, and ill-smelling
+native standing before them.</p>
+
+<p>“What’s that, man?”</p>
+
+<p>“You send Kuola away—me take his place.”</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t want you. I’ve hired this lad to fill
+Kuola’s place.”</p>
+
+<p>“Dat boy?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes.”</p>
+
+<p>“He no strong as Wakari—Wakari werry strong.
+You try um.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_40">[40]</span></p>
+
+<p>“I told you I didn’t want you,” answered Tom
+Grandon, half angrily, for the foul-smelling native
+had come up closer, and caught him by the
+shoulder. “You go and look for work elsewhere.”</p>
+
+<p>The face of the native fell, and he muttered
+something under his breath in his own language.
+He still wanted to argue; but Grandon threw his
+hand off and turned him around, and then he glided
+away, noiselessly, like some beast of the forest.</p>
+
+<p>“You’ll get into trouble with those boys, Tom,”
+laughed Captain Ponsberry, who stood near. “Consarn
+’em! Give me a white man for stevedore work,
+every time. The wust of ’em are wuth three niggers!
+How are you to-day?” the last to Larry.</p>
+
+<p>“Very well, sir, and ready to pitch in,” was the
+answer. “I should have been here earlier, only I received
+two letters,—one from each of my brothers,—and
+I couldn’t help stopping to read them.”</p>
+
+<p>“Don’t blame you for that, for letters are scarce
+when you get away as far as this. I was looking
+for letters and papers myself; but Jack Dodger,
+who went after ’em, ain’t back yet.”</p>
+
+<p>The captain turned to another part of the dock,
+and Larry followed Tom Grandon on board of the
+<i>Columbia</i>. Although he had been a sailor but a
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_41">[41]</span>short time, the youth knew how to take in many
+of the good points of a vessel, and his quick eye
+told him that the <i>Columbia</i> was in every respect an
+A 1 schooner, to use the Lloyds’ method of classification,
+and that all on board was in perfect order
+and as clean as a boatswain’s whistle.</p>
+
+<p>“She’s a good one,” he observed, as he saw Tom
+Grandon look at him questioningly.</p>
+
+<p>“None better, lad,” responded the mate, “and
+I expected you to say it. Now come up to the
+forward hatch. Do you think you could manage
+yonder block and fall without getting a finger
+taken off or dropping a valuable case of goods?”</p>
+
+<p>“I think I can. I did just such work on the
+<i>Rescue</i> about a month ago.”</p>
+
+<p>“Then pitch in, and if you do a man’s work
+it’s a man’s wages that will be coming to you
+when the job’s at an end. Come, Hobson, Striker,
+bend to it now and no fooling, or the <i>Columbia</i>
+will never be unloaded, to say nothing of getting
+our Hong Kong cargo aboard. Where is Oleson,
+that new fellow that shipped day before yesterday?”</p>
+
+<p>“He hasn’t shown up this morning, sir,” answered
+the man addressed as Hobson, a ruddy
+faced Englishman. “Was he to work with us?”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_42">[42]</span></p>
+
+<p>“We didn’t hire him for it, but still he might
+take a hand—the sooner we’re unloaded and
+loaded again, the better. There you are, boy,
+steady now and let her go! Up, up! a leetle
+more! That will do. It’s all right—couldn’t
+have done it better myself. Hobson, this is Larry
+Russell, the brave lad that stopped the team yesterday.
+He’ll help here as long as there is anything
+to do,” and with a cheerful wave of his
+hand Tom Grandon moved to another part of the
+schooner, leaving Larry to continue the task which
+had been assigned to him.</p>
+
+<p>It is needless to say that the youth went to
+work with a will, not only because that was his
+usual way of doing things, but because he wanted
+to show Captain Ponsberry and the mate that he
+was capable of taking a man’s place, should it
+come to a question of shipping for the cruise to
+Hong Kong—something that was more in his
+mind than ever before, now that he had seen
+what a good craft the <i>Columbia</i> was.</p>
+
+<p>As Larry worked, the eyes of two natives
+secreted behind a high pile of lumber on the
+dock beyond were riveted upon him. One of the
+natives was Kuola, the fellow who had been discharged,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_43">[43]</span>the other was Wakari, the foul-smelling
+chap who had come to take his place. Both were
+dissolute, only working in order to obtain a little
+cash with which to buy liquor. They watched
+Larry for a long time, then both shook their
+clenched fists at the boy and sneaked off.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_44">[44]</span></p>
+
+  <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_V">
+    CHAPTER V
+    <br>
+    <small>SOMETHING ABOUT THE DESTRUCTION OF THE “MAINE”</small>
+  </h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>About an hour had been passed by Larry in
+steady work, when, on looking towards the companionway
+of the <i>Columbia</i>, he saw Captain Ponsberry
+rush up, newspaper in hand, and so excited
+that he could scarcely speak.</p>
+
+<p>“Tom Grandon, look here!” he cried. “Consarn
+the Spaniards, anyhow! Here’s news for all
+to listen to, and news that ought to set the whole
+United States on fire with indignation. We ought
+to drown every mother’s son of ’em at the bottom
+of the sea.”</p>
+
+<p>“What is it, Nat?” returned Grandon, rushing
+forward, while Larry and the others paused in
+their work. “What have the Spaniards been
+doing to the poor Cubans now?”</p>
+
+<p>“Cubans!” fairly roared the master of the
+<i>Columbia</i>. “<a href="#i_fp044">It ain’t the Cubans I’m
+talking </a><span class="pagenum" id="Page_45">[45]</span><a href="#i_fp044">about now.</a> It’s the teetotal busting up of the
+battleship <i>Maine</i> and the killing of I don’t know
+how many of our gallant jack-tars! See here,
+the newspaper from San Francisco is full of it,
+with type six inches long!”</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter" id="i_fp044">
+  <img src="images/i_fp044.jpg" alt="" title="">
+  <figcaption>
+    <p class="noic smcap"><a href="#Page_44">It ain’t the Cubans I’m talking about now</a></p>
+  </figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>And Captain Ponsberry held up the sheet in
+question, so that not only Grandon but all the
+others might see the flaring head-lines.</p>
+
+<p class="p2 noic">THE MAINE BLOWN UP!<br>
+Total Destruction of Our Battleship in the<br>
+Harbor of Havana!<br>
+OVER TWO HUNDRED AND FIFTY OFFICERS<br>
+AND SAILORS KILLED!<br>
+The Shock Comes at Night, and Without Warning. Captain<br>
+Sigsbee Safe, but Several Officers Known to be Lost.<br>
+A Partial List of the Saved Ones—How the<br>
+News Was Received at Washington.<br>
+THOUGHT TO BE THE WORK OF SPANISH<br>
+AGENTS.<br>
+Captain Sigsbee Telegraphs to Withhold Judgment—He Says,<br>
+“It is best not to think, it is best to know.”</p>
+
+<p class="p2">A whole page of reading followed, in smaller
+type, which Larry could not catch. The youth
+stared at the head-lines, with mouth agape, and
+instantly he thought of Ben and Walter, and
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_46">[46]</span>what they had said about going to war. If this
+awful news was true, and the Spaniards were guilty,
+would war follow?</p>
+
+<p>There was a second of silence, as the sailors
+read the lines, a silence broken by Tom Grandon.
+“Tell you what, this is awful, simply awful, Nat!
+And they say the Spaniards did it? If that’s so,
+there will be war in a jiffy, and don’t you forget
+it—and Cuba will be free.”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, Cuba will be free, and Spain will get
+knocked into six million pieces,” blazed away Captain
+Ponsberry, who was wont to talk very extravagantly
+when warmed up. “The cowards!
+to blow ’em up when they were sleeping.”</p>
+
+<p>“Does it say that?” questioned Hobson. “No
+fair-minded nation would do such a dastardly bit
+o’ work, cap’n.”</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t say the nation did it,—as a nation,—but
+their officers did it, and that’s the same thing—the
+sneaks! I see some think it was an explosion
+from the inside, but I know that couldn’t happen
+in our navy; the rules aboard a warship are
+too strict.”</p>
+
+<p>“That’s right,” piped up a thin, nasal voice,—that
+belonged to Luke Striker, a sailor who had been
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_47">[47]</span>working beside Larry. “Didn’t I put in five years
+aboard a warship, cruising the Atlantic? There
+couldn’t be no explosion from inside, not with the
+daily inspections of the magazines, and the wetting
+of the guncotton, and the keys and electrical connections
+in the captain’s cabin; no, sir. That explosion
+came from the outside, and—and—but,
+captain, won’t you read the full account?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, Nat, read it out; all of the boys will want
+to hear it, especially those who claim the stars and
+stripes as their flag,” added Tom Grandon.</p>
+
+<p>And so the captain of the <i>Columbia</i> read the
+account which, stripped of its newspaper sensationalism,
+was as follows; the special report being dated
+at Havana, Cuba, Feb. 16, 1898.</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>“At quarter to ten o’clock last evening a terrible
+explosion occurred on board or under the United
+States battleship <i>Maine</i>, lying in the harbor of
+Havana. The battleship has been completely destroyed,
+and over two hundred and fifty sailors and
+two officers have lost their lives.</p>
+
+<p>“The explosion was so heavy that many of the
+houses in Havana were shaken, and people ran
+outside, thinking it was an earthquake shock. It
+was soon learned that the great battleship had gone
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_48">[48]</span>up, and the docks were lined with people, while
+rescue boats put out from all directions.</p>
+
+<p>“The shock came without an instant’s warning.
+Captain Sigsbee was seated in his cabin, writing a
+letter to his wife, while many of the officers and
+sailors had retired for the night, when there came
+a deafening report, followed by thick volumes of
+smoke and a shower of iron piping and splinters,
+and then the vessel began to sink, her heavy structure
+and armor plate twisted, bent, and broken like
+a battered wash-boiler.</p>
+
+<p>“The officers who were below, and who had escaped
+serious injury, rushed or rather swam on
+deck, only to find themselves in a mass of wreckage
+from which it was almost impossible to extricate
+themselves. The explosion occurred close to the
+men’s quarters, and but few of the gallant jackies
+got out alive. One ladder leading from the rear
+torpedo compartment was literally jammed with
+men struggling for life.</p>
+
+<p>“Fortunately the <i>Alfonso XII.</i> was lying close
+by, and a powerful searchlight was speedily turned
+upon the scene. The steamer <i>City of Washington</i>,
+also close at hand, sent out all her boats and
+brought in a great number of those swimming about,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_49">[49]</span>many of whom were wounded and on the point
+of drowning.</p>
+
+<p>“So far but few of the dead bodies have been
+recovered, everybody being on the lookout for the
+injured. Many have been taken to the hospitals
+in Havana, while some are lying at death’s door on
+the steamships which were in the vicinity of the
+explosion.</p>
+
+<p>“A dozen theories have started up as to the cause
+of the explosion. One is that the guncotton on
+board went off by spontaneous combustion; another
+is that the plating between the engine rooms and
+one of the magazines became too hot and ignited
+the powder; and still another that the electric lighting
+system is responsible. The general opinion
+among those on board, however, is that the <i>Maine</i>
+was blown up from the outside, either by a torpedo
+or by a sunken mine, most likely the latter.</p>
+
+<p>“There is fearful though suppressed excitement
+in Havana, and the Americans here look blackly
+at the Spanish soldiers as they move from place
+to place. Spanish officers declare the explosion
+must have come from the interior of the ship, and
+profess to be deeply concerned over the disaster.
+Certainly a majority of them are sincere in their
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_50">[50]</span>condolence. But in the back quarters of the town
+the Spanish sympathizers do not hesitate to declare
+that it serves the Yankees right, that they had no
+right to send a big warship here at this time, and
+that they hope every warship that may come from
+the United States will be served the same way.”</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>“Is that all?” queried the mate of the <i>Columbia</i>,
+as Captain Ponsberry paused in his reading of the
+newspaper account.</p>
+
+<p>“That’s all the news there is of the explosion.
+I reckon everything was upset, and they couldn’t
+get details,” answered the captain.</p>
+
+<p>“The <i>Maine</i> must have been a big boat,” said
+Hobson.</p>
+
+<p>“She was a big boat,” answered Luke Striker.
+“I know something about her. She was what they
+call a battleship of the second class—although I
+allow as how she was fust class all over. She came
+out of the Brooklyn Navy Yard and she was over
+three hundred feet long, nearly sixty feet broad
+and drew about twenty-seven feet of water. Her
+hull was of steel, and she was put down as about
+sixty-seven hundred tons’ displacement.”</p>
+
+<p>“Who is this Captain Sigsbee?” asked Larry.</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t know much about him, exceptin’ that he
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_51">[51]</span>came from the Naval Academy, and he used to be
+in charge of the Hydrographic Office, and I’ve heard
+he made a big thing of that.”</p>
+
+<p>“I see in another part of this paper that there
+were three hundred and fifty men on the pay-roll,”
+said Captain Ponsberry. “If that’s so, then only
+about a hundred of ’em escaped. It’s the wust
+accident I’ve heard of since the sinking of that
+British warship the <i>Victoria</i>, which went down by
+being struck by one of her own fleet while off the
+coast of Tripoli. She carried about four hundred
+poor sailors down with her, and Vice-Admiral Tryon
+in the bargain.”</p>
+
+<p>A lively discussion lasting several minutes followed.
+The news was such that it would furnish
+talk, especially for sailors, for a long time to come.</p>
+
+<p>But the work aboard the <i>Columbia</i> was not to be
+forgotten, and soon Larry was back at his post,
+trying to make up for lost time.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_52">[52]</span></p>
+
+  <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VI">
+    CHAPTER VI
+    <br>
+    <small>A BRUSH WITH TWO KANAKAS</small>
+  </h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>Larry went back to his work with his head
+filled with what he had heard. The news was
+truly terrible. To think of those poor jackies who
+had been summoned before their Maker without
+an instant’s warning made him shudder, and half
+unconsciously he breathed a prayer that such a
+fate might never overtake himself.</p>
+
+<p>“None of the navy for me,” remarked Hobson,
+as he, too, resumed his labor. “I’ve sailed upon
+merchantmen going on twenty-six years, and they
+are good enough for me.”</p>
+
+<p>“I can’t say as much,” put in Luke Striker,
+who, as Larry soon discovered, was a typical
+Yankee, hailing from Bangor, Maine. “O’ course
+the rules are strict, and you have to pay strict
+attention to all commands; but the jackies are a
+jolly crowd with it all, and then, if war comes,
+think of all the glory to be won!”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_53">[53]</span></p>
+
+<p>“If a shell or a shot don’t finish you,” interrupted
+Hobson. “No,” he added, as Striker muttered
+something about being afraid, “I’m as brave,
+I think, as most men, but I’m peaceably inclined,
+and I say, let them as makes the quarrel go and
+fight it out.”</p>
+
+<p>“But the poor lads at the bottom of Havana
+harbor can’t fight any more, matey,” said Striker.</p>
+
+<p>“No, they can’t, an’ more the pity. But then
+they didn’t make the fight at the start. It’s those
+in high authority do that.” And Hobson turned to
+shore with a case of goods he was trucking; and
+the discussion, for the time being, came to an end.</p>
+
+<p>Although it was still early in the year, it was
+hot in these latitudes, and when the noonday
+whistles blew, Larry was glad enough to knock off
+for his dinner and a rest. He was about to go
+ashore when Grandon hailed him.</p>
+
+<p>“Have you paid for your dinner in advance?”
+he asked.</p>
+
+<p>“Why, what do you mean?” returned Larry,
+somewhat mystified.</p>
+
+<p>“I mean have you a regular boarding-place to
+go to for dinner? If not, you can have your
+dinner with the crew, and welcome.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_54">[54]</span></p>
+
+<p>“Thank you; that will just suit me, sir.”</p>
+
+<p>“You seem to be a good lad, and I like to see
+such get along. We had one young fellow on our
+last trip, but he wasn’t worth his salt. Tell Jeff
+I said you could mess with the rest.”</p>
+
+<p>Larry soon learned that Jeff was the ship’s
+cook,—a tall, fat mulatto, much given to singing
+and dancing whenever the occasion allowed. Jeff
+smiled broadly when the boy told him what Grandon
+had said.</p>
+
+<p>“All right, sah, jess git Hobson or one ob de
+rest to make room fo’ yo’, an’ yo’ kin hab’ all yo’
+wants, includin’ plum duff an’ a slice o’ mutton.
+We is livin’ high in dis port.”</p>
+
+<p>“Mutton and plum duff will just strike me
+right,” smiled Larry. “When I was on the bark
+<i>Rescue</i>, it was salt horse almost every day.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, I ain’t sayin’ wot de boys gits on a
+long trip,” answered the cook. “We runs putty
+close to de wind sometimes.”</p>
+
+<p>“Avast there, Jeff!” cried Luke Striker. “Don’t
+give the captain a black eye when he don’t deserve
+it. The eatin’ on board of the <i>Columbia</i> is all it
+should be, an’ more, without thanking the cook,
+either. Ain’t that so, Hobson?”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_55">[55]</span></p>
+
+<p>“You’ve spoken the truth, Striker,” rejoined the
+Englishman. “A man as would go thin on such
+grub has no right to live. If you want to ship,
+lad, just you strike Captain Nat Ponsberry for a
+berth, and you’ll be safe.”</p>
+
+<p>“Do you think he would take me?” questioned
+Larry, not stopping to think twice.</p>
+
+<p>“Hullo, do you want to go to Hong Kong?”
+put in Luke Striker. “I thought you said something
+this forenoon about getting back to the States.”</p>
+
+<p>“I do think of going back, but I might take
+this trip first. I haven’t seen much of the vessel,
+but what I have seen has pleased me, and I took
+to Captain Ponsberry and Mr. Grandon the very
+hour I became acquainted with them.”</p>
+
+<p>“Which was nateral lad, quite nateral,” said
+Striker. “I did the same—and I’ve never regretted
+it. But about taking you—that’s another
+question. Do you know the ropes?”</p>
+
+<p>“I think I do.”</p>
+
+<p>“How about doing your duty aloft when there’s
+a storm on and the ship is pitching an’ creakin’
+an’ groanin’ like she was going to Davy Jones’
+locker? Would you pull in and clew up for all
+you was worth then?”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_56">[56]</span></p>
+
+<p>“I’d try to do my duty.”</p>
+
+<p>“Douse my toplights if I don’t think you would;
+eh, Hobson?”</p>
+
+<p>“I should hope so. But there’s no telling what’s
+in man or boy until he’s put to the test. However,
+if the lad thinks to ship on the <i>Columbia</i>, it
+would do no harm to broach the subject to the
+captain,” concluded the English sailor.</p>
+
+<p>Once having spoken of the matter on his mind,
+Larry was now quite anxious to speak to the master
+of the <i>Columbia</i> concerning the trip. But during
+the afternoon neither Captain Ponsberry nor
+the mate showed themselves, having gone up to
+the Custom House to see about clearance papers.</p>
+
+<p>“He can use one more hand,” said Hobson.
+“But I heard Grandon speak of a German who
+wanted to go, a fellow who used to be a sailor
+but is now working on one of the Oahu sugar
+plantations. If he’s shipped him, I don’t see how
+they will be room for another.”</p>
+
+<p>At this Larry’s hopes fell somewhat, but they
+rose again when Luke Striker said he would speak
+to the captain as soon as he came back. With
+this he had to be content, and at the end of the
+day’s work he bade the others good-night, picked
+up his coat, and left the vessel.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_57">[57]</span></p>
+
+<p>His boarding-house was quite a distance from
+the shipping, and Larry had not covered many
+squares before he noticed that he was being followed.
+The persons after him were the two natives
+who had watched him, and each was armed with
+a stout club.</p>
+
+<p>“It’s queer that they should follow me,” thought
+Larry. “What can they be up to?”</p>
+
+<p>The youth was not kept long in doubt. Having
+passed from the main street into one of less pretensions,
+he was on the point of entering the shady
+grounds surrounding the new boarding-house he
+had selected, when both natives ran up, each catching
+him by an arm.</p>
+
+<p>“Want to speak to American boy,” said the one
+named Wakari.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, what do you want?” demanded Larry,
+at the same time trying in vain to pull himself
+free.</p>
+
+<p>“American boy take work away from Kuola,”
+answered the second native. “Must pay for doing
+dat.”</p>
+
+<p>“Took work away from you? What do you
+mean?”</p>
+
+<p>“Kuola work down at dock, on boat <i>Columbia</i>.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_58">[58]</span>American boy get captain to send Kuola off, and
+American boy take Kuola’s place.”</p>
+
+<p>“I didn’t get them to send you off,” returned
+Larry, a light dawning upon him. “He sent you
+off because you drink.” He mentioned the last
+fact for Kuola’s breath smelt strongly of rum, as
+did also the breath of Wakari.</p>
+
+<p>Both of the natives scowled until their faces
+assumed a most ferocious appearance.</p>
+
+<p>“American boy pay Kuola for loss of work—must
+pay,” insisted the discharged one.</p>
+
+<p>“What do you want?” asked Larry, not that he
+intended to pay anything, but in order to gain
+time to think over what was best to be done. The
+boarding-house stood fifty feet back among the
+trees; it was dark at the entrance to the grounds,
+and the road was practically deserted.</p>
+
+<p>“Pay Kuola and Wakari each two dollars,” came
+the quick reply.</p>
+
+<p>“And will you let me go unharmed if I do
+that?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes,” and the natives’ eyes gleamed, for they
+felt certain by the worried look upon Larry’s face
+that their demand would be satisfied.</p>
+
+<p>“Let me see what money I have in my pockets,”
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_59">[59]</span>went on the youth, and shook Kuola off, at the
+same time putting one hand down into his trousers
+pocket.</p>
+
+<p>Satisfied that all was going well for them, Wakari
+also released his hold. Hardly had he done
+so than Larry snatched the club from his hand
+and sprang into the gateway.</p>
+
+<p>“Now clear out, both of you!” he cried sternly.
+“If you don’t, one or the other will get a cracked
+head. You can’t play any such game as this on
+an American boy!”</p>
+
+<p>The natives were dumbfounded at the sudden
+turn of affairs. Unarmed, Wakari lost no time in
+retreating, for he had no taste for a blow from the
+weapon he had carried, while Kuola stood still, not
+knowing what to do.</p>
+
+<p>“Skip!” went on Larry, advancing upon Kuola.
+“Help, somebody! Thieves!”</p>
+
+<p>“Be still!” fairly hissed the native, and now
+his club was raised. He aimed a savage crack at
+Larry’s head, but the boy was alert, and quick at
+dodging, and the weapon merely struck resoundingly
+upon the gate-post.</p>
+
+<p>Footsteps were now heard approaching, and once
+again Larry raised his cry for help, at the same
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_60">[60]</span>time making a pass at Kuola, striking him a
+glancing blow upon the bare shoulder. Then
+Wakari gave a cry of warning. “Somebody
+comes; we must run,” he said, in his native
+tongue.</p>
+
+<p>“What is the matter here?” came in a voice
+which sounded familiar to Larry, and in a second
+more the Rev. Martin Wells appeared from out
+of the darkness.</p>
+
+<p>“Help! they want to rob me!” answered the
+boy. “Oh, Mr. Wells, is that you?”</p>
+
+<p>“Lawrence Russell!” came from the missionary.
+He turned to the natives. “So you would rob
+this lad? Are you not ashamed of yourselves?
+Begone!”</p>
+
+<p>But his words were not heard; for seeing the
+newcomer was a man, and one carrying a heavy
+cane, the pair of rascals turned, uttered a few
+words under their breath, and sped away in the
+darkness. At first Larry was for following them,
+but he quickly gave up the thought.</p>
+
+<p>“I’m glad you came,” he said, as soon as the
+excitement was over. “I don’t know what would
+have happened if you hadn’t chanced along.”</p>
+
+<p>“‘One good turn deserves another,’ Lawrence,”
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_61">[61]</span>quoted Mr. Wells. “You saved me from one peril,
+and now I’ve saved you from another, so we are
+quits—not but that I shall remember your brave
+deed,” he added hastily. “But it is odd they
+singled you out for an attack.”</p>
+
+<p>In a few words the state of the situation was
+explained, the missionary listening with much interest.
+“The savage blood is in them,” he said,
+with a grave shake of his head. “There is still
+much church work to do here. I would remain
+in this field of labor were it not that I have explicit
+orders from our home board to go to Hong
+Kong.”</p>
+
+<p>“I understand that you are to be a passenger
+on the <i>Columbia</i>,” said Larry, hastily, struck with
+a sudden idea.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, my lad, I have picked out that vessel, for
+it seems to be a good one, and Captain Ponsberry
+is very much to my liking, too.”</p>
+
+<p>“Then perhaps you wouldn’t mind putting in a
+good word for me, sir. I want to ship in her for
+the Hong Kong trip.”</p>
+
+<p>“I’ll willingly speak to the captain about it, if
+you desire it,” returned the missionary.</p>
+
+<p>A few words more followed, Larry explaining
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_62">[62]</span>the situation, and the Rev. Mr. Wells promising
+to do all he could towards securing the boy the
+desired berth; and then the two parted, the best
+of friends.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_63">[63]</span></p>
+
+  <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VII">
+    CHAPTER VII
+    <br>
+    <small>GOOD-BY TO HONOLULU</small>
+  </h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>“So you want to ship on board of the <i>Columbia</i>,
+lad? Well, I don’t know. I’ve never had quite
+such a young hand as you, and the trip to Hong
+Kong is a long one, and, at this time of the year,
+it may be mighty rough.”</p>
+
+<p>“I am willing to take what comes,” answered
+Larry. “I think I am nearly as strong as the
+average man.”</p>
+
+<p>Larry and Captain Ponsberry were standing near
+the companionway of the schooner. Luke Striker
+had just spoken to the captain of Larry’s desire, and
+Hobson had put in a good word, and the skipper
+had called the youth from his labors.</p>
+
+<p>“He works as good as any of us, cap’n,” said
+Striker. “He’s a likely lad, an’—excuse me for
+a-sayin’ of it—but I don’t think you can do
+better.”</p>
+
+<p>At this instant the Rev. Martin Wells joined the
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_64">[64]</span>group, having come aboard to see that proper care
+was taken of a box of books he desired shipped.</p>
+
+<p>“Captain Ponsberry, this young man would like
+to ship with you, and I promised to say a good word
+in his favor. If you—”</p>
+
+<p>“No use to say more, parson,” was the good-natured
+interruption. “All seem to be in favor of
+it, and the lad can go if he’s set on it. But, Russell,
+remember what I told you about its being a rough
+trip, and remember, too, you ship as a regular foremast
+hand, working as they work and living as they
+live.”</p>
+
+<p>“I understand it all, sir,” answered Larry, with a
+happy smile, which was increased when he beheld a
+good-natured twinkle in Captain Ponsberry’s eye.
+He knew he was making no mistake, and that the
+captain would prove as good a man to sail under as
+there was to be found. “I’ll do my level best, and
+you won’t find me skulking when I’m wanted.”</p>
+
+<p>“If I do, I’ll rope-end you,” was the answer, but
+the threat only made Striker and Hobson laugh.
+“I never seen the old man with a rope-end yet,”
+whispered the Yankee into Larry’s ear.</p>
+
+<p>So it was all settled, and that noon Larry signed
+articles to sail under Captain Ponsberry in an immediate
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_65">[65]</span>trip to Hong Kong, China, and back, said
+round trip to last not longer than seven months,
+barring accident, the lad to receive twelve dollars
+per month and found.</p>
+
+<p>“And now I’m booked to visit the heathen
+Chinee, after all,” murmured the youth, as he turned
+away to continue his work on the cargo; but never
+for an instant did he dream of all that was to happen
+before his eyes beheld the coast of China.</p>
+
+<p>Larry had told his newly made friends all about
+Kuola and Wakari, and they, especially Striker and
+Hobson, had promised to keep a weather eye open
+for the two rascals. “I’ll pitch into ’em fust sight,
+douse my toplight if I don’t,” was the manner in
+which the Yankee expressed himself. “Ain’t nothin’
+so healthy fur these furiners as to teach ’em a wholesome
+lesson.”</p>
+
+<p>But keeping a “weather eye open” was quite useless;
+not but that Kuola and Wakari would have been
+only too glad to visit harm upon Larry’s head. The
+fact of the matter was, after beating a retreat upon
+the appearance of the Rev. Martin Wells, the two
+rascals had sought consolation in drink, with the
+result that both had swallowed more than was good
+for them, engaged in a free fight with others in the
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_66">[66]</span>resort they visited, and Kuola was now laid up in
+bed with a broken head, while Wakari was in the
+local jail, serving out a sentence of sixty days.</p>
+
+<p>Larry was looking out not merely for the natives.
+He had the Norwegian who had robbed him still in
+mind, and several idle hours in the evening were
+spent in trying to hunt this fellow down, but without
+result. He had told Striker, Hobson, and the
+others of the affair, and they were justly indignant.</p>
+
+<p>“Such a fellow is no better nor them Kanakas,”
+growled Luke Striker. “It’s a pity they couldn’t
+ship in some craft as was bound for Davy Jones’
+locker. Now the cap’n’s took one furiner aboard as
+I don’t like the looks of, but he’s signed, an’ that’s
+an end on it, I reckon. Hobson, have you heard
+anything of this Oleson?”</p>
+
+<p>“Tom Grandon said he wasn’t coming aboard till
+the day we sailed,” responded the English sailor.
+“No, I didn’t like his looks either. Wish the captain
+had taken an Englishman or an American instead.
+I can’t bear those Norwegians nor Poles
+nor Russians.”</p>
+
+<p>In another day the cargo was entirely removed, and
+then the <i>Columbia</i> lost no time in taking on her new
+load for Hong Kong,—a miscellaneous collection
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_67">[67]</span>of articles, some of them rather heavy. This work
+was very laborious, and Larry and the other workers
+perspired freely under the tropical sun.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh! but it’s hot!” he said once, as he stopped
+to run the perspiration from his forehead with the
+side of his finger. “We don’t catch anything like
+this in the States, at least not up North.”</p>
+
+<p>“This is nothing,” answered Hobson. “Wait till
+we get down just to the north of the Philippine
+Islands, right in the China Sea; you’ll find it hot
+enough to boil eggs in a dipper on deck, and you
+won’t dare to go barefooted, for fear the hot tar will
+burn you up.”</p>
+
+<p>“I’ll agree with Hobson on that,” answered Luke
+Striker. “I once shipped to the Philippines, and we
+spent four weeks at Aparri, on the northeast coast
+of Luzon, the main island, and in Manila Bay, on the
+southwest coast, and, phew! but wasn’t it a corker!
+We were in Manila Bay right in August, and a man
+didn’t hardly dare to walk across the deck at midday
+for fear of getting sunstruck.”</p>
+
+<p>“If that’s true, then I don’t want much of Manila
+Bay,” laughed Larry; and then they resumed their
+work with all the energy that was left in them, for
+Captain Ponsberry had promised them a holiday at
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_68">[68]</span>his expense if they finished up one day before the
+time set for sailing.</p>
+
+<p>On a Tuesday night the work came to an end, and
+hatches were closed with a will. The <i>Columbia</i> was
+to sail at nine o’clock Thursday morning, so the
+crew would have all day Wednesday to themselves.
+What to do was solved by Captain Ponsberry, who
+hired a big stage and took all hands down to the dazzling
+white beach at Waikiki, but a few miles outside
+of Honolulu. Here there is the best of surf
+bathing, just inside of the reefs, with all the proper
+accommodations, and there is likewise a beautiful
+park, where the society of the seaport city takes its
+afternoon drives. Larry enjoyed a dip in the surf
+very much, having Striker with him, and the bath
+gave both a tremendous appetite for the seashore
+dinner, which Captain Ponsberry kind-heartedly
+provided at the casino nearby.</p>
+
+<p>“Good-by to Honolulu,” cried Larry, as the
+party started on its return. “Take it all in all, it’s
+a pretty place, and one might do much worse than
+to settle here for the remainder of one’s life. It
+won’t be a bad job done if the United States annexes
+the islands.”</p>
+
+<p>“Just what I say,” said Tom Grandon, who sat
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_69">[69]</span>beside the boy. “Folks talk about the place being
+half-civilized and all that sort of thing, but they
+seem to forget that it’s more civilized than Texas
+and New Mexico were when we took hold of them,
+or Alaska.”</p>
+
+<p>That night was the first Larry spent on board of
+the <i>Columbia</i>, for he had removed his chest to the
+craft before starting on the day’s outing. To be
+sure, the forecastle of the schooner was dark and
+dingy, as forecastles usually are, but the apartment
+was clean and in order, and did not smell half so
+strongly of tar and oakum, tobacco and bilge-water,
+as other places like it of which he knew. Moreover,
+his berth was near to the door, so he was likely to
+get the full benefit of all cool and fresh air which
+was stirring.</p>
+
+<p>Hobson’s berth was next to Larry’s, with Luke
+Striker’s just opposite. Then came the berths of
+Cal Vincent, Maurice Roddmann, and several other
+sailors, for the <i>Columbia</i> carried all the men she
+required. In the rear was the berth of the Norwegian,
+who was not to come on board until the last
+moment, on account of the sickness of one of his
+former messmates, so he had explained.</p>
+
+<p>Thursday dawned clear and bright, with a stiff
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_70">[70]</span>breeze blowing from just the quarter Captain Ponsberry
+wanted it. The Rev. Martin Wells and two
+other passengers came aboard directly after breakfast,
+a score of friends with them to see them off.
+Larry had already informed Captain Morgan of the
+change he had made and bidden his former sailing-master
+good-by, and there was no one else to
+see.</p>
+
+<p>At nine o’clock sharp the lines were unloosed and
+Larry flew with the rest to set first one sail and then
+another. Everything was, of course, strange to the
+boy, for ships are not built alike, and he paid strict
+attention to business, feeling that the eyes of Captain
+Ponsberry and Tom Grandon must be on him.
+He heard Grandon speak to a newcomer, and knew
+it must be the belated Norwegian sailor, but did not
+just then catch sight of the man. If he had, there
+might have been a row then and there, and Larry’s
+future adventures would have had a vastly different
+cast.</p>
+
+<p>Only the jib and mainsail were set as the <i>Columbia</i>
+crept down through the coral channel leading
+from Honolulu harbor to the mighty ocean beyond.
+The lighthouse was soon passed, and then the
+schooner pointed almost westward, passing Barber’s
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_71">[71]</span>Point on her starboard, the last point of land to be
+sighted for many days to come. Once clear of the
+reefs, top and foresail went up, along with every
+other available stitch of canvas, and the <i>Columbia</i>
+bowled along gayly, sending the spray flying in every
+direction.</p>
+
+<p>Previous to sailing, every rope and every inch of
+canvas had been thoroughly overhauled, while the
+<i>Columbia</i> had been cleaned as neat as “my lady’s
+parlor,” to use Hobson’s words, so now there was
+little to do but to arrange matters in the forecastle,
+and once the Point had faded away in the blue-gray
+haze, Larry turned to what was to be his “house”
+during the voyage.</p>
+
+<p>Yet even here there was very little to occupy his
+mind. He had arranged his berth the night before.
+He pulled out his chest, unlocked it, and began to
+sort over and shake out his clothing, hanging on
+a nearby hook those for which he might have an
+early call.</p>
+
+<p>He was thus engaged when a shadow fell beside
+him, and a bulky form in the doorway shut out much
+of the light entering the forecastle. He looked up,
+expecting to see Striker or some one of the other
+sailors with whom he had become acquainted. But
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_72">[72]</span>the newcomer was a stranger, a sour-looking, clean-shaven
+man of foreign birth.</p>
+
+<p>“Ah!” came in a rough voice, and Larry leaped
+to his feet. Then, as the newcomer came closer, the
+boy recognized him, in spite of the fact that he had
+shaved off his beard. It was Olan Oleson, the man
+who had robbed him.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_73">[73]</span></p>
+
+  <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VIII">
+    CHAPTER VIII
+    <br>
+    <small>AN UNWELCOME SHIPMATE</small>
+  </h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>“You!” gasped Larry. For the moment he could
+scarcely speak.</p>
+
+<p>For reply Olan Oleson stared at him in what was
+meant to be total surprise. But the Norwegian had
+seen and recognized Larry before, and now he was
+merely acting a part previously determined upon.</p>
+
+<p>“What are you doing here?” continued the
+youth, slamming the chest shut and shoving it out
+of sight.</p>
+
+<p>“I am a sailor here,” answered Oleson. “You
+sailor, too?” The last words with great innocence.</p>
+
+<p>“You’re a sailor here! Do you belong on the
+<i>Columbia</i>? I didn’t see you here before.”</p>
+
+<p>“I just come before we sail. My name Olan Oleson.
+What your name?”</p>
+
+<p>And the Norwegian held out his brown and dirty
+hand.</p>
+
+<p>“Why, you—you rascal!” burst from Larry’s
+lips. “You want me to shake hands? Don’t you
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_74">[74]</span>think I know you, even if you have cut off your
+beard? You’re the man who robbed me. You
+think you got away from me mighty slick, the
+other night, don’t you? Well, I guess we’ll settle
+accounts now.”</p>
+
+<p>Olan Oleson drew a deep breath and stared hard
+at the boy. “What you talk about me robbin’ you?”
+he said. “I know notank about you. You say I
+rob you, I knock you down!” and he doubled up
+his big fists.</p>
+
+<p>His attitude was so fierce and menacing that he
+thought Larry would cower before him. But he was
+mistaken. The American lad was not thus easily
+daunted. Instead of taking a step backward, Larry
+took two forward.</p>
+
+<p>“This buncombe won’t work with me,” he said as
+coolly as he could, although he was much excited.
+“You are the thief, and I intend to expose you and
+get my money back.”</p>
+
+<p>“I no thief—I honest man. You say me a thief,
+I—I throw you into the sea. Boy, you tak a care,
+you hear? tak a care!” and Oleson grabbed Larry
+by the shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>At this juncture Luke Striker entered the forecastle,
+to stare in astonishment at the pair, for Oleson
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_75">[75]</span>continued to hold Larry, while the latter sought
+to push his antagonist away.</p>
+
+<p>“Hullo, what’s the row?” queried Striker.
+“’Pears to me you two are gettin’ at it early-like.”</p>
+
+<p>“This man is the thief who robbed me at the
+Travellers’ Rest in Honolulu.”</p>
+
+<p>“The boy lie—I nefer see him before,” came from
+the Norwegian, and now he hurled Larry from him.
+“You speak lie of me again, I show you what I do!”
+and again his clenched fist came up.</p>
+
+<p>“He has shaved off his beard, but he is the man; I
+can swear to it, Striker. I wish I had seen him before
+we left Honolulu. I could bring witnesses and
+have him arrested.”</p>
+
+<p>“Wish you <em>had</em> seen him in Honolulu, if your story
+is true,” returned the Yankee, who had taken to
+Larry and felt bound to side with him. “Captain
+Ponsberry won’t want no thief aboard this craft, not
+by a jugful!”</p>
+
+<p>“We go to de captain,” growled Olan Oleson.
+“The boy mak a mistak. I am honest man—maybe
+he a thief,” and he shook his head to emphasize his
+words.</p>
+
+<p>By this time Hobson and several others had entered
+behind Luke Striker, and a hubbub arose, as
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_76">[76]</span>one and another began to question first Larry and
+then the Norwegian. Most of the sailors had heard
+the tale of the missing money before, and as between
+Larry’s open, honest face and Oleson’s sullen, crafty
+visage, it was plain to see whom they were inclined
+to believe.</p>
+
+<p>The discussion waxed so warm that Tom Grandon’s
+attention was attracted. He listened to both
+sides patiently, then brought the matter to a close by
+demanding that Larry and Oleson follow him to the
+Captain’s cabin.</p>
+
+<p>Captain Ponsberry was found in conversation with
+Rev. Martin Wells and his other passengers. He
+looked up in surprise at seeing his mate enter with
+two of the foremast hands.</p>
+
+<p>“This is a serious matter,” he said, after Grandon
+had explained the situation, while the missionary
+shook his head sorrowfully. “Russell, how do you
+know this is the man who robbed you?”</p>
+
+<p>“I know him by his voice and by his looks. He
+has shaved off his beard, but that doesn’t count with
+me.”</p>
+
+<p>“You saw him before you retired that night—I
+mean you talked to him?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, sir; for ten or fifteen minutes. He asked
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_77">[77]</span>me about the <i>Rescue</i> and Captain Morgan, and if I
+knew where he might get a chance to ship—and he
+asked me if I had got my pay, too.”</p>
+
+<p>“And he is the man that you met at the band
+concert in Honolulu?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, sir, I am willing to take my affidavit on it.”</p>
+
+<p>“You had a quarrel there?”</p>
+
+<p>“We did. He knocked me down and ran away.”</p>
+
+<p>Olan Oleson had listened patiently. Now he
+raised both hands in protestation. “The boy tell
+a lie. I no the man—I an honest man, captain.”
+He touched his forelock. “If we no be on de ship,
+I knock him down for what he say. But I good
+sailor; I know sailor’s place.”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, I won’t allow any fighting on board ship,”
+responded Captain Ponsberry, firmly. Then he
+rubbed his chin in perplexity. “But I hardly know
+what to say to this. It’s one man’s word against
+another’s, and there you are. Parson, what do you
+think in a case like this?”</p>
+
+<p>“Let us pray there is some mistake,” were the
+missionary’s words, although he, too, was inclined
+to side with Larry. “You know,” he added to
+the youth, “there are many cases on record of
+mistaken identity.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_78">[78]</span></p>
+
+<p>“How much he say he lose?” questioned Oleson.</p>
+
+<p>“I lost six dollars and a few cents,” returned
+Larry.</p>
+
+<p>The big Norwegian shrugged his shoulders. “I
+no be thief for seex dollars,” he murmured. “If de
+boy want money so much, he can have out of my
+wages when trip is done,” and he put on a look
+of disdain.</p>
+
+<p>“I only want my own,” cried Larry, the hot
+blood rushing into his face. “I’d not touch a
+cent of your dirty cash, you—you—” he broke
+off as the Rev. Martin Wells caught him gently
+by the arm. “I don’t care—he has no right to talk
+to me in that fashion,” he finished, in a lower tone.</p>
+
+<p>“The only thing to do is to let the matter
+drop right where it is,” said Captain Ponsberry,
+and spoke so decidedly that all felt he was laying
+down the law. “I am sorry that you lost your
+money, Russell, but you can see yourself you have
+no clear case against Oleson. Now, I won’t have
+any quarrelling on the <i>Columbia</i>, mind that, both
+of you. You can each think as you please, but
+don’t go for to put it into words. And remember,
+too, I expect each of you to do his full duty—not
+one to hold back, expecting the other to do
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_79">[79]</span>the work. I’m tremendously sorry that there is
+any ill-feeling on this craft, especially so early in
+a long voyage, but it can’t be helped, and we’ll
+have to make the best of it. Now forward, both
+of you, and hearken well to what I have told you.
+Tom, tell the other hands how matters stand, and
+warn ’em against siding one way or the other in
+this little unpleasantness.”</p>
+
+<p>And so Larry and Oleson were dismissed, while
+the mate went forward with them to do as the
+captain had ordered. What Grandon had to say
+was listened to silently and with great interest,
+for a sailor thinks theft one of the greatest crimes
+in the calendar, as it really is.</p>
+
+<p>At first Larry was inclined to rebel at Captain
+Ponsberry’s decision, especially as he had counted
+upon the captain’s friendship. But when he
+cooled off and reviewed the situation carefully, he
+saw that the captain had done no more than what
+could be considered fair under the circumstances.
+“He is right; in the absence of other evidence,
+one man’s word is as good as another’s,” thought
+the boy. “I may as well let the matter drop,—it
+was only six dollars, after all. But I shall keep
+my eyes open for Olan Oleson in the future!”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_80">[80]</span></p>
+
+<p>At first the others of the crew heeded Grandon’s
+warning not to take sides in the matter,
+but this rule was broken that night by Luke
+Striker as he and Larry were turning in, having
+been on the same watch together.</p>
+
+<p>“It ain’t for me to say much, Larry,” said the
+Yankee sailor. “But I like your way,—took to
+you when fust I clapped eyes on you,—and I’ll
+back your word up against that furiner every clip.
+If he tries any underhanded game on you, jest
+don’t hesitate to let Luke Striker know, and we’ll
+send him on the rocks in a jiffy. Now, promise
+me, will you?”</p>
+
+<p>And Larry promised with all his heart. He
+felt he had a true friend in the whole-souled
+Yankee sailor, but how much of a friend time
+was still to show.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_81">[81]</span></p>
+
+  <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_IX">
+    CHAPTER IX
+    <br>
+    <small>A TALK ABOUT THE TROUBLES IN CUBA</small>
+  </h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>Hong Kong is due west from Honolulu, and
+the distance, in round figures, is five thousand
+miles, so it was quite true that Larry had a long
+voyage before him.</p>
+
+<p>Captain Ponsberry did not calculate to make
+the entire trip without stopping. In his almost
+direct course westward were to be found Wake
+Island and the Farallon de Pajaros, dividing the
+trip into fairly equal thirds, and it was calculated
+that the <i>Columbia</i> would put into both places
+for fresh water, and possibly a bit of fresh meat
+and vegetables, for the kind-hearted captain saw
+no need of going without these comforts when
+they might be had with but little trouble.</p>
+
+<p>For over a week the weather proved all that
+could be desired. It was true that it was hot,
+but the stiff breeze was comforting, while it made
+the gallant <i>Columbia</i> fully represent her name so far
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_82">[82]</span>as build was concerned, for she readily “scooned”
+over the long swells of the rolling Pacific.</p>
+
+<p>There had been no occasion for Larry and Oleson
+to speak to one another, and thus far neither
+had uttered a word. As the days went by, Larry,
+naturally light-hearted, was inclined to forgive
+his enemy. But not so the burly Norwegian.
+Whenever the eyes of the two met, Oleson scowled
+ominously, and more than once Larry found himself
+shivering from some nameless dread, he could
+not tell what.</p>
+
+<p>“I’d give half a month’s salary if he wasn’t on
+board,” he said to Luke Striker, his one confidant.
+“If he keeps on looking at me like that, he’ll
+give me the nightmare.”</p>
+
+<p>“You look out for yourself whenever you’re
+on night watch with the furiner,” answered the
+Yankee tar. “If you don’t watch out—maybe an
+accident might happen, see?” and he closed one eye
+suggestively, and then Larry had another shiver.</p>
+
+<p>The looks finally became so threatening that
+Striker spoke to Oleson about them. “The boy is
+treating you square enough,” he said. “You just
+leave him alone, and we won’t have no trouble.”</p>
+
+<p>“I no touch the boy—no spak to him,” growled
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_83">[83]</span>the Norwegian. “You let me alone, like captain
+say you should.”</p>
+
+<p>There the talk ended, and instead of anything
+being gained by it, matters were made worse, for
+Oleson became an enemy of Striker as well as of
+Larry. He no longer looked at either when their
+eyes were turned in his direction, yet they felt
+intuitively that he had them constantly in his mind.</p>
+
+<p>Taken at its best, life on a sailing-vessel on an
+extended trip is bound to grow more or less monotonous,
+and were it not for a number of reasons
+Larry would have found time growing dull on
+his hands, during the hours when there was absolutely
+nothing to do, and when he was too wide-awake
+to think of going to sleep, as many of his
+messmates did.</p>
+
+<p>But besides Striker, he had made a good friend of
+the Rev. Martin Wells, and the missionary was not
+above coming forward to chat with Larry and the
+others, and in addition to this he loaned the youth
+several books, which Larry devoured with keen relish,—histories
+and biographies, books which were
+rather dry when compared with what the boy had
+read when at home, but which did him far more
+good.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_84">[84]</span></p>
+
+<p>As we know, Larry had been very much interested
+in the blowing up of the <i>Maine</i>. Before leaving
+Honolulu he had heard a later report than the first
+from the United States, by which it was stated that
+the Spanish authorities denied any knowledge of the
+explosion, and that the United States naval authorities
+were going to take matters in hand immediately
+by appointing a Board of Inquiry to fix the responsibility.</p>
+
+<p>“This Cuban matter is something of a mystery to
+me,” he said to the missionary one day, after the
+blowing up of the battleship had been discussed.
+“What is the real trouble down there; can you tell
+me?”</p>
+
+<p>“I can tell you something, Lawrence, if not everything,”
+replied Mr. Wells; “but in order to get at
+a proper understanding of the case I’ll have to go
+pretty well back into history.”</p>
+
+<p>“I won’t mind that, sir, so long as I’ve got the
+time to listen.”</p>
+
+<p>The two were seated under the shadow of one of
+the small boats, and after a second of thought the
+missionary began:—</p>
+
+<p>“The story of Cuba from the very start has been
+one of persecution and intense suffering—persecution
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_85">[85]</span>so terrible that it can hardly be believed, and
+suffering in many cases beyond endurance.</p>
+
+<p>“When Columbus discovered the New World, there
+were but two powers, Spain and Portugal, that disputed
+for the possession of the new territories, which
+embraced not only the West Indies, but also a large
+portion of the southern part of North America,
+and the northern and eastern portions of South
+America. The dispute was referred to the Pope,
+as head of the states, and he granted to Portugal
+that part of South America which is now Brazil and
+gave to Spain all the rest.</p>
+
+<p>“Such a vast and valuable possession could not be
+left alone long, especially as it was known to be
+inhabited only by savages, and was suspected to
+be rich in minerals, and before long Spain sent out
+numerous colonies, commanded by her own noblemen,
+to conquer the whole of the West Indies, including
+Hayti, San Domingo, Jamaica, and Porto
+Rico, as well as Cuba, the largest of all the islands,
+and the richest.</p>
+
+<p>“When the Spanish colonists arrived they found
+the islands settled by peaceful Indians and Caribs.
+Without delay they set about conquering these
+people, and this done, they made slaves of the Caribs
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_86">[86]</span>and also of the Indians, when they could catch them,
+which was not often, for the Indians would take to
+the water rather than risk capture. To the Caribs
+were added slaves from Africa, and all these poor
+people were treated so shamefully that the Caribs
+died off like sheep, and even the Africans could not
+stand it. The one thought of the Spaniards was to
+make money, and they cared nothing for their slaves’
+bodies though professing a desire to save their souls.”</p>
+
+<p>“It’s a wonder they didn’t rebel?”</p>
+
+<p>“They did rebel, but they had no arms and were
+unskilled in warfare, and each time they were put
+down with greater cruelty. Old writers have left
+us many accounts of those fearful times,—accounts
+the reading of which makes one’s heart ache.”</p>
+
+<p>“But now Spain doesn’t own all of the islands,
+nor any of North America?”</p>
+
+<p>“She owns nothing now but Cuba and Porto Rico,
+and a few small places of no importance. Her
+cruelty and rapacity has had its reward. The gold
+and silver and other riches sent by noblemen from
+the islands to Spain lured the buccaneers of the
+world to that locality, and many were the ships
+which were taken and plundered. Then other nations
+heard of the wealth which was there, and of
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_87">[87]</span>the great cruelty, and took upon themselves the task
+of setting matters right. The least interference enraged
+the Spaniards, and numerous fights followed,
+and in the end, as I have stated, Spain was stripped
+of nearly everything. And she has lost more than
+I spoke of before, too, for she once controlled Mexico,
+Texas, and what is now New Mexico, California, and
+Nevada.”</p>
+
+<p>“But what has brought about this present
+trouble?”</p>
+
+<p>“I am coming to that. As years went by, the
+colonists in Cuba and other islands increased, until
+the home government had a new element to deal
+with, for slavery was now a thing of the past. These
+colonists became tired of paying their heavy taxes
+to the mother country, especially as they derived
+no benefits, and so other rebellions broke out, until
+Cuba was in a state of perpetual war. The hand of
+Spain was an iron one, however, and could not be
+shaken off. The colonists were allowed nothing,
+not even to run their own internal affairs, for every
+office was filled from Spain, and the taxes became
+heavier and heavier.</p>
+
+<p>“At last, about three years ago, the Cubans, or a
+large portion of them, resolved to stand it no longer.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_88">[88]</span>They withdrew from Havana and some of the other
+large cities, and set about establishing a government
+of their own. They formed an army, the watchword
+of which was ‘Cuba Libre!’ meaning Free Cuba,
+and swore to hold no communication with the Spanish
+authorities until their freedom was acknowledged.”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, I’ve heard of that, and how they have been
+fighting the Spanish soldiery ever since. But still
+I don’t see where <em>we</em> come in,” said Larry, earnestly.</p>
+
+<p>“Don’t be impatient, Lawrence, and you will see.
+Yes, the Cubans have been fighting for three years
+with varying success. They were poorly equipped
+and scarcely organized, and the most they could do
+was to stick to the forests and mountains, and wage
+a sort of guerilla warfare against the trained regiments
+from Spain sent over to annihilate them. As
+the situation now stands, the Spanish hold all of the
+large towns and the seacoast, while the insurgents,
+as they are called, hold the interior and many small
+villages.</p>
+
+<p>“Of course such a condition of affairs so close to
+the United States could not help but arouse sympathy
+for those who had been so illy treated, and
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_89">[89]</span>expeditions were sent out secretly to help the rebels;
+but this was against international law, and Spain
+promptly called upon the United States government
+to put down the practice. Then the insurgents,
+through their Junta, or representatives in our
+country, asked for recognition before the world, so
+that they might be free to use the ports of the
+United States and do many other things they otherwise
+could not do, but recognition has not yet been
+obtained, although it is being considered by Congress.</p>
+
+<p>“But now comes another view of the present situation,
+and this is worse than the fighting that is
+going on. Under the guise of wishing to protect
+the weak and helpless in the country and in villages,
+the Spanish authorities in Cuba have been
+driving all of the women, children, and old men into
+the big cities and holding them there. The young
+and middle-aged men, of course, cannot be thus
+driven, for they are in the ranks of the insurgents.
+But when the women and children and old men get
+into the cities there is nothing for them to do, and,
+as most of them are poor, they are actually compelled
+to starve, unless some kind-hearted soul will
+feed them.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_90">[90]</span></p>
+
+<p>“If that’s the case, we ought to help the poor
+people, war or no war!” cried Larry, heartily.</p>
+
+<p>“That thought is exactly the thought of those
+who have lately taken hold, to send supplies to Cuba
+and to aid in every way possible the poor, sick, and
+dying. Up to date several hundreds of thousands
+of the poor people have died from exposure and the
+want of nourishment, and the whole Christian nation
+is crying out that such inhumanity must cease.
+But Spain wants no one to interfere, stating that to
+give succor to the rebels will only prolong the disturbance
+which she will soon end.”</p>
+
+<p>“Never mind; we ought to help, whether Spain
+likes it or not, that is my idea of it, Mr. Wells.”</p>
+
+<p>“The efforts of the Americans in Havana and
+elsewhere have stirred up much bad blood, and it
+was to protect those Americans that the <i>Maine</i>
+was sent into Havana harbor. Now that the
+<i>Maine</i> has met with such a sad fate I presume
+the feeling upon both sides is more bitter than
+ever. I should not be surprised to hear of a
+riot in Havana, in which many Americans might
+be slain.”</p>
+
+<p>“But if that court of inquiry finds that the <i>Maine</i>
+was blown up by some Spanish agents, won’t that
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_91">[91]</span>mean war?” concluded Larry, as a shrill pipe from
+the boatswain’s whistle caused him to arise.</p>
+
+<p>“It will mean another step in the direction of
+war,” was the grave response.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_92">[92]</span></p>
+
+  <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_X">
+    CHAPTER X
+    <br>
+    <small>ATTACKED IN A STORM</small>
+  </h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>“Come, boys, tumble up lively now, unless you
+want to spend the next week in sail-sewing!”
+cried Cal Vincent, the boatswain of the <i>Columbia</i>.
+“There’s a storm a-brewing, and the old man reckons
+as how it will be best to take in a little sail to
+onct!”</p>
+
+<p>While listening to the interesting talk of the missionary,
+Larry had noticed the sky growing darker,
+and he leaped up with alacrity, for he remembered
+that it was the neglect to shorten sail in time on
+board of the <i>Rescue</i> which had caused the bark to
+strain and open some of her seams. Besides, if
+there was one thing he detested on shipboard, it
+was to sit down with a heavy sailor’s needle and
+assist at sail-mending.</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t reckon it’s going to be much, but still
+one can’t allers tell,” remarked Luke Striker, as he
+came tumbling out of his berth, where he had been
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_93">[93]</span>dozing upon that hot afternoon and dreaming of
+his far-away down-east home. He had spent many
+years on the ocean, yet that spot of his boyhood
+was as dear to him as ever.</p>
+
+<p>Captain Ponsberry himself was on deck, giving
+orders at the top of his voice, and everybody was
+scurrying here and there, for orders to shorten sail
+are always obeyed quicker than any others on shipboard,
+the reason for which is obvious.</p>
+
+<p>“Lay aloft there now, men, and don’t stop to
+think about it,” cried the captain. “Come now,
+Hobson, show your heels up those ratlines, and,
+Oleson, don’t move as though you had chunks of
+lead in your boots. See, Russell is ahead of all of
+you, and he’s but a boy. Now then, all ready?”</p>
+
+<p>“All ready, sir,” came from various quarters.</p>
+
+<p>And then came a rapid succession of orders, each
+followed by a creaking of halyard blocks, as the
+topsails came down, followed by the jib and flying-jib.
+The fore-course, main-course, and mizzen-course
+were left standing, but the men were kept on deck,
+to reef or take in entirely, should it become necessary
+to do so.</p>
+
+<p>Oleson had followed Larry up to the foretop, with
+an extra sour look upon his swarthy face, for he
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_94">[94]</span>did not like the remark the captain had cast at
+him, nor the compliment paid to the boy. “Get
+ofer dare!” he growled, pushing up against Larry.
+“You want all de room to yourself. How I tak
+in sail if you under my feet?”</p>
+
+<p>“You’ve got as much room as I have,” answered
+Larry, firmly. “Keep your distance,” he added, as
+Oleson continued to crowd him. “Mind now what
+I say!”</p>
+
+<p>To this the Norwegian made some uncomplimentary
+answer, which was, however, swallowed up in
+the noise of the flapping sail as it came down on
+the run.</p>
+
+<p>The <i>Columbia</i> was rolling and pitching upon the
+heavy swells under her, and Larry found it no easy
+task to keep his balance as he helped furl and fasten.
+It was blowing lively, too, and the wind whistled
+almost a gale into his ears.</p>
+
+<p>Again Olan Oleson crowded him, until there was
+but little left to stand upon. The boy shouted
+another warning, but the Norwegian paid no attention.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly a fearful dread took possession of the
+lad. Olan Oleson meant to shove him over into
+the sea.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_95">[95]</span></p>
+
+<p>“Keep your distance!” he cried, at the top of
+his lungs. “Keep your distance. Below there!
+help!”</p>
+
+<p>“You be still!” growled the Norwegian. “I no
+hurt you. You go—”</p>
+
+<p>A gust of wind swallowed up the words which
+followed. Again the <i>Columbia</i> went over, caught
+short in the swell under her. The topmast dipped
+thirty feet or more to leeward, and Larry made a
+tight clutch on the cross-tree, only to find himself
+shoved rudely off.</p>
+
+<p>His right hand held the gasket he had been tying
+up, and that was all. Over rolled the ship again,
+and now his body swung clear into the air, supported
+only by that slender, plaited rope, which was
+old and not above snapping without warning. Beneath
+him was the churning sea, above him the
+slender topmast and the dark and angry sky. He
+shuddered and was tempted to close his eyes, but
+could not.</p>
+
+<p>“You let go!” came from Olan Oleson, and he
+caught hold of the gasket as if to shake Larry
+from it.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#i_fp095">“Don’t!” gasped the boy. “Oh, you villain!
+don’t!”</a></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter" id="i_fp095">
+  <img src="images/i_fp095.jpg" alt="" title="">
+  <figcaption>
+    <p class="noic smcap"><a href="#Page_95">Don’t! Gasped The Boy. Oh, You Villain! Don’t!</a></p>
+  </figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_96">[96]</span></p>
+
+<p>He continued to cling fast despite the fact that
+Olan Oleson’s hand was over his own, pressing the
+knuckles to make the fingers relax and slip. But
+now the <i>Columbia</i> swung over to the other side, and
+he felt his feet touch the rigging below. The gasket
+slipped; but legs and arms were on the alert,
+and in a second more he found himself safe, on a
+level with Olan Oleson’s feet. Fearing a kick, he
+lost no time in descending still further, until, finding
+himself at Luke Striker’s side, he deemed himself
+comparatively safe.</p>
+
+<p>The storm had evidently reached its height, and
+as the <i>Columbia</i> carried her lower sails well, there
+was nothing for the sailors to do but to stand
+around and wait until the wind should either
+increase or decrease. The spray was flying everywhere,
+and Larry followed Striker into the forecastle
+for his oilskin coat.</p>
+
+<p>“’Pears to me I heard somebody cry for help
+when I was aloft,” remarked the Yankee sailor.
+“Must have been the wind, but it did sound very
+much like a human voice.”</p>
+
+<p>“It was a human voice,” answered Larry. “I
+yelled just as loud as I could.”</p>
+
+<p>“And what for? Were you afraid of falling?”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_97">[97]</span></p>
+
+<p>“I was afraid of being pushed off.”</p>
+
+<p>“Gee shoo!” Striker stared at the lad a second.
+“Say, that furiner was up there with ye? Did
+he try—”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, he did. If I hadn’t clung fast for all I
+was worth, and dropped to the lower cross-tree
+when I got the chance, I would at this minute be
+out on the ocean a mile astern,” and Larry shuddered.</p>
+
+<p>“The Norwegian ought to be put into irons!
+Why don’t you go to the old man and report?”</p>
+
+<p>“What good would it do? It would only be
+another case of my word against Oleson’s, for of
+course the fellow would deny everything.”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, but have you got to stand this a-havin’ a
+chap around as is achin’ to do sech a dirty trick as
+that? I don’t think you have, not by a jugful!”</p>
+
+<p>“I certainly wish Oleson hadn’t shipped on the
+<i>Columbia</i>. If it wasn’t for him, this trip would just
+suit me, for every one of the others is a good messmate,”
+responded Larry.</p>
+
+<p>He had procured his oilskin and was putting it
+on, when there was a heavy tramping near the doorway,
+and Olan Oleson came in. He was about to
+withdraw upon seeing the boy and his companion,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_98">[98]</span>but with a quick leap, Luke Striker caught him by
+the arm and pulled him inside.</p>
+
+<p>“You good-fer-nuthin’ rascal!” he cried, catching
+the Norwegian by the collar and running him
+up against a back berth. “What right have you to
+attack this boy up in the top, eh? You jess let
+that lad alone or I’ll—I’ll wipe up the deck with
+ye, by the jumpin’ Christopher I will!”</p>
+
+<p>And he shook the burly sailor until the man’s
+teeth fairly rattled. Striker was not as tall as
+Oleson by several inches, and his weight was considerably
+less, but his muscles were tough and his
+bravery unequalled, and there was nothing he would
+not tackle when aroused. In vain the Norwegian
+struggled; that grip could not be broken.</p>
+
+<p>“You let go me!” spluttered the swarthy fellow.
+“You let go! I no mak quarrel with you. Let go,
+or I tell captain.”</p>
+
+<p>“Tell the captain, and that’s all the good it will
+do you. He won’t allow sech a rascal as you
+aboard one minit longer nor he can help, and I
+know it. Tell him, and take that! and that! and
+that!”</p>
+
+<p>Each “that” was followed by a bump of Oleson’s
+head upon the edge of the berth, blows hard enough
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_99">[99]</span>to crack an ordinary man’s skull. After the last
+bump Striker threw the man to one side, motioned
+to Larry, and both walked outside.</p>
+
+<p>“Maybe that will teach him a lesson,” muttered
+the Yankee sailor. “Hang those furiners, anyhow!”</p>
+
+<p>“You have made an enemy of him for life,
+Luke,” returned the boy. “Hereafter he’ll try to
+do as bad by you as he has tried to do by me.”</p>
+
+<p>“Let him; we’ll both be on our guard. But
+don’t you go aloft with him again.”</p>
+
+<p>“I won’t.”</p>
+
+<p>“And on second thought I don’t know but what
+it will be jest as well not to speak to Captain Ponsberry
+about it. Let Oleson see that we can take
+care of ourselves, and he’ll have more respect for
+us.”</p>
+
+<p>They were now called upon to shorten sail still
+more, and consequently the conversation had to
+come to an end. While taking in the fore-course
+and the mizzen-course Oleson came out to assist,
+but did not look at either of them.</p>
+
+<p>Although it blew strongly all night, the storm
+was but an ordinary one, and by sunrise the next
+day the wind had fallen sufficiently to allow the
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_100">[100]</span><i>Columbia</i> to proceed upon her way again under full
+sail. Olan Oleson kept his distance, nor did he
+even look at Larry or Striker. “He’s learned his
+lesson,” said the Yankee tar, but how grievously
+he was mistaken the chapters which follow will
+show.</p>
+
+<p>They were now reaching the vicinity of Wake
+Island, and a constant lookout was kept, that they
+might not pass the spot, which is low-lying, rather
+barren, and of small territory. Larry was up in
+the cross-trees one afternoon, when he saw the
+island far to the north of the <i>Columbia</i>.</p>
+
+<p>“Land O!” he sang out, and the cry soon rang
+through the ship, speedily bringing the captain, Mr.
+Wells, and everybody else on deck.</p>
+
+<p>“Where away?”</p>
+
+<p>“On our starboard quarter, captain. I can just
+see a bit of rocks and trees.”</p>
+
+<p>A marine glass was brought into use, and after
+a brief survey Captain Ponsberry decided that it
+was Wake Island. The course of the <i>Columbia</i> was
+immediately changed, and an hour later they were
+moving slowly into a small but safe harbor, surrounded
+by coral reefs upon which the sea pounded
+incessantly.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_101">[101]</span></p>
+
+<p>Larry had expected Wake Island to be a spot
+where a fine run ashore might be indulged in, and
+was somewhat surprised and disappointed to find
+the place so barren. However, there was a good
+spring close at hand, and as they wanted fresh
+water more than anything else there was little over
+which to grumble. A whole day was spent in filling
+the <i>Columbia’s</i> water-casks, and then off they sailed
+again, bound as before, due west.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_102">[102]</span></p>
+
+  <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XI">
+    CHAPTER XI
+    <br>
+    <small>A RACE AND AN INTERRUPTION</small>
+  </h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>The days and the weeks passed, and the gallant
+<i>Columbia</i> kept steadily upon her course. They had
+now passed longitude 150° east of Greenwich, and
+were but a short distance north of the Ladrones,
+while the Farallon de Pajaros, Captain Ponsberry
+calculated, would be sighted within the next forty-eight
+hours, providing the wind did not fall.</p>
+
+<p>The <i>Columbia</i>, up to this time, had been making
+a quick passage, but now, with the going down of
+that heavy and hot sun, the wind died out utterly, and
+on the following day the sails flapped idly against
+the masts, and everything came to a standstill.</p>
+
+<p>“We are in for a calm now,” remarked Striker.
+“I knowed we was bound to come next to it sooner
+or later.”</p>
+
+<p>“Never mind,” replied Larry, ever ready to look
+upon the cheerful side. “When it does blow, it
+will come so much the stronger.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_103">[103]</span></p>
+
+<p>“Yes, and then we’ll run the risk of having a
+mast taken out,” grumbled Hobson, who could endure
+almost anything but standing still. “Give me
+a good steady breeze every trip.”</p>
+
+<p>The men hung around here and there, or lay in
+the coolest spots they could find, dozing or sleeping.
+The only sound that broke the stillness was the
+voice of Jeff, as he prepared meals and sang his
+plantation melodies. He had one song in particular,
+relating the mishaps of “My Gal Susannah!” which
+he seemed to be never weary of repeating. The
+darky was the only one satisfied to let the calm
+take care of itself.</p>
+
+<p>Olan Oleson had kept his distance, and it really
+began to look as though the lesson Striker had
+given the fellow had done some good. But the
+burly Norwegian had not forgotten, for such was
+not his nature. Secretly he was plotting to strike
+both Larry and his Yankee friend a most dastardly
+blow.</p>
+
+<p>Striker sat in front of the forecastle, his legs
+under him, in the fashion of a tailor. He had a
+score of bits of wood about him, and was engaged
+in whittling out the model of a boat with his jack-knife.
+Not far away rested Larry, a big book on
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_104">[104]</span>his lap, which the boy was reading with great
+eagerness. The book was entitled “Naval Heroes
+of History,” and contained accounts of the stirring
+battles fought by Nelson, Perry, Jones, and other
+celebrities. The Rev. Martin Wells had loaned
+him the volume, and he was reading aloud to
+Striker.</p>
+
+<p>“My, but I wish I had been there!” he cried, as
+he finished the account of the famous fight between
+the <i>Serapis</i> and the <i>Bonhomme Richard</i>. “How
+proud Paul Jones must have felt at that victory.
+And at such close quarters!”</p>
+
+<p>“We’ll have no such fighting any more,” answered
+Luke Striker. “The old wooden vessels are gone,
+and with ships built of steel, and armed with guns
+that can hit the enemy six or seven miles off, it’s
+not likely there will be any hand-to-hand, rough and
+tumble work. It’s reduced to a science, as the
+parson would call it.”</p>
+
+<p>“Nelson’s victory at Trafalgar was the greatest
+victory known to naval history,” put in Hobson,
+who had come up in time to hear the talk. “No, I
+don’t say it because I’m an Englishman, but because
+it’s a fact. He had a splendid fleet of ships, it is
+true, but he had the combined fleets of France and
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_105">[105]</span>Spain against him, and the way he went at them
+and smashed them up from the very start of the
+fight is something for every sailor to remember as
+long as the world goes round. The only bad thing
+about it was that he was shot down in the very
+thick of it and killed.”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, this book tells about that, and how England
+has honored Nelson, too,” said Larry. “And
+such a man deserves to be honored.”</p>
+
+<p>“There ain’t no telling how our modern battleships
+are going to pull through in a fight,” said
+Striker. “Although England and America and
+France and Germany and Spain and some of the
+other countries have ’em, they ain’t been put into
+active use. I’ve been told the Chinese and Japanese
+used some of ’em during their late war, but them
+heathens don’t count—not alongside o’ Anglo-Saxon
+blood; eh, Hobson?”</p>
+
+<p>“I grant you that, every time, Striker,—Anglo-Saxon
+blood every trip,—against the world,” cried
+the Englishman, heartily. “Now you take it among
+ourselves,” he went on, after a pause. “The
+Americans and English and Germans, and even
+the French, can get along together; but put a Spaniard
+or a Portuguese or an Italian, or one of that
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_106">[106]</span>kind of fellows aboard and there’s trouble right
+away—I’ve seen it a hundred times.”</p>
+
+<p>“You might add the Norwegians to the off
+crowd,” put in Larry, glancing to where Olan
+Oleson sat sullenly chewing his quid of plug-cut.</p>
+
+<p>Hobson laughed and tossed his head. “I would
+willingly if they were all like yonder chap. But
+they are not—I’ve known Norwegians as fair and
+square as any of us.”</p>
+
+<p>“We’ll let him alone, so long as he lets us alone,”
+rejoined Striker. “What’s up, Cal?” he added, as
+the boatswain approached.</p>
+
+<p>“The captain says as how if any of you want to
+take a swim now is your chance,” said the boatswain
+of the <i>Columbia</i>. “We’ll put the jollyboat out and
+lower the sails, and them as wants to can stay out
+till sundown.”</p>
+
+<p>“Hurrah!” cried Larry, closing his book and
+springing up. “A swim will just suit me. Come
+on, Striker, and let’s get at the sails at once.”</p>
+
+<p>The majority of the crew were willing to do anything
+to break the monotony, and soon the sails
+were furled and the yawl swung over and allowed
+to drift astern, with a couple of pairs of oars placed
+athwart the seats, in case it should prove necessary
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_107">[107]</span>to row out to anybody seized with a cramp. There
+were a number of old bathing-suits aboard, and soon
+Larry had donned one of these.</p>
+
+<p>“Here goes!” he cried, rushing to the rail. For
+a moment he stood erect, his hands over his head.
+Then with a graceful curve he went down, cutting
+the water like a knife, and disappearing with hardly
+a splash beneath the bluish-green surface. A few
+seconds later Luke Striker followed, and then came
+half a dozen others in a bunch, shrieking, laughing
+and sporting like so many overgrown boys; for when
+your true sailor is out for a lark, he never thinks of
+his age, no matter how old he may be.</p>
+
+<p>The water was warm and refreshing, and never
+had Larry enjoyed a swim more. He dived half a
+dozen times, from the yawl, and then challenged
+Striker to a race around the <i>Columbia</i>, which lay
+nearly stationary in the swells of the ocean.</p>
+
+<p>“All right, I’ll beat ye out of your butes!” cried
+the Yankee, and splash! splash! both left the yawl
+at the same instant, and the race began. Captain
+Ponsberry, standing at the stern, saw what was
+going on and shouted in approval.</p>
+
+<p>“Go on, both of ye!” he cried. “A prize to the
+fellow as wins! Striker, the boy will beat ye unless
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_108">[108]</span>you use your long arms better than that. Now
+then, both do your level best, and remember to
+swim clear o’ the bow!”</p>
+
+<p>“It’s Striker’s race,” cried the boatswain, who
+was also in the water. “It stands to reason the
+man will win.”</p>
+
+<p>“I’ll wager you a plug of tobacco the boy comes
+out ahead,” answered Hobson. “See what a splendid
+stroke he’s making—I never saw a better,
+even on the Thames!”</p>
+
+<p>“Let us follow!” cried another, and this all did,
+but keeping at a safe distance, so as not to interfere
+with the racers. Mr. Wells had come upon
+deck and was as much interested as anybody. He
+shouted loudly to Larry, and the boy heard him,
+looked up a brief instant, and smiled.</p>
+
+<p>For the first quarter of the distance Larry took
+the lead and kept it. His stroke was not so long as
+that of Striker, but it was quicker, and he was,
+moreover, using his feet to the best possible advantage.
+But now, as the pair neared the bow of
+the <i>Columbia</i>, the Yankee sailor began to pull up.</p>
+
+<p>“I’m a-comin’, lad!” he puffed. “It’s a pity I’ve
+got to beat ye, but it can’t be helped—I can’t afford
+to lose my reputation as a swimmer among the boys.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_109">[109]</span></p>
+
+<p>“I’m not beaten yet, and I don’t mean to be,”
+laughed Larry, “and I’m not going to lose my wind
+talking,” he added, and became silent.</p>
+
+<p>On and on they went, each riding lightly over
+swell after swell, until the bow was gained. Heeding
+the captain’s warning, Larry gave it a berth of
+several feet, and Striker did the same. But the
+man was now close at hand, and a few additional
+strokes put him several feet in advance.</p>
+
+<p>“Striker’s ahead!”</p>
+
+<p>“Go it, Larry; don’t let him beat you!”</p>
+
+<p>“The best man wins, and it’s a new pair of pants
+he gets as a reward!” cried Captain Ponsberry, and
+held up the garment mentioned—a pair picked up on
+the ship many months before with no owner coming
+forward to claim them. “I think they’ll most fit
+ye, Larry, so put in your best licks for ’em!”</p>
+
+<p>“Stretch ’em out to fit me, cap’n!” cried Striker,
+“for they’ll be mine when this race is over; stretch
+’em out!” And a laugh went up at the Yankee’s
+words.</p>
+
+<p>The lank sailor was now two yards ahead, and
+the yawl was less than thirty yards off. In vain
+Larry tried to increase his stroke, the distance
+between him and his opponent remained the same.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_110">[110]</span></p>
+
+<p>“Go it, Larry, go!” cried Hobson. “Give me
+your foot, and I’ll give you a shove!”</p>
+
+<p>“Hi! hi! no foul play back there!” roared
+Striker. “This race is to be won on its merits. Now,
+then, for the wind up!” and he renewed his efforts.</p>
+
+<p>But he was almost winded, for the race had been
+a stiff one from the start, and he was not used to
+exerting himself in the water. On the other hand,
+Larry was still fresh, and had taken part in several
+swimming matches before. The boy renewed his
+efforts to overtake his opponent, and now, as the
+yawl drew closer, he slowly but surely crept up.</p>
+
+<p>“See, see! Russell is gaining!” cried Tom Grandon,
+from the taffrail.</p>
+
+<p>“He’ll win out, after all!” echoed the Rev. Martin
+Wells, who was quite excited. The race made
+him think of his college days, ten years gone by.</p>
+
+<p>On and on the pair in the water continued to
+go, until the yawl, rising and falling with the swell,
+was less than fifteen feet away. Striker was still
+a yard ahead and pushing forward like a blown
+porpoise. Larry continued to diminish the distance
+between them.</p>
+
+<p>“Hurry up, Larry, and you’ll make it yet!” cried
+Grandon.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_111">[111]</span></p>
+
+<p>And Larry did hurry, putting forth every ounce
+of muscle that remained. His head was now up to
+Striker’s knees, and now he made a last desperate
+plunge and drew up alongside of the Yankee. A
+yell arose on every side.</p>
+
+<p>“They are even!”</p>
+
+<p>“Go it, both of you!”</p>
+
+<p>And go it they did; but Striker was doing his
+best, and Larry also, and neither could increase his
+speed. Up they shot to the yawl, and two hands
+went up to the gunwale simultaneously.</p>
+
+<p>“It’s a tie!”</p>
+
+<p>“Both have won!”</p>
+
+<p>“That’s the best race I’ve seen in a good—”</p>
+
+<p>Bang! crash! the words of the last speaker were
+drowned in a noise as unexpected as it was dismaying.
+The yawl was seen to rise in the air,
+which was instantly filled with flying splinters, and
+Larry and Striker disappeared like a flash from
+view.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_112">[112]</span></p>
+
+  <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XII">
+    CHAPTER XII
+    <br>
+    <small>THE CAPTURE OF A SAWFISH</small>
+  </h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>“A sawfish, sure as you’re born!”</p>
+
+<p>It was Tom Grandon who uttered the cry, and
+as the words left his lips, he pointed excitedly to
+the rear of the yawl, through which was thrust a
+dark, bony substance very much resembling the
+blade of a double whip-saw. Back of the yawl a
+big fish was floundering,—the sawfish itself,—churning
+the water into a white foam.</p>
+
+<p>“Russell! Striker! where are they?” shouted
+Captain Ponsberry, and then turning, he darted
+towards his cabin, to bring up a harpoon hanging
+upon the hooks below.</p>
+
+<p>“A sawfish! A shark!” yelled those who had
+been following the racers; and at once there was
+a wild scramble to gain the side of the <i>Columbia</i>.
+Ropes were thrown over by Tom Grandon and
+several others, and the men lost no time in clambering
+up to the deck. Then came a rush to the taffrail.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_113">[113]</span></p>
+
+<p>All this while the sawfish was doing its best to
+extricate its saw from the wreck of the boat. This
+was not easy, and the splinters continued to fly in
+all directions, while the flying spray reached even
+to those who watched the struggle. The fish
+was at least eight feet long, while the saw was a
+yard more, and it looked as if the yawl would be
+pounded and cut into bits before the conflict came
+to an end.</p>
+
+<p>“Where in the world are Larry and Striker?”
+cried Hobson. “They can’t be tangled up under
+that fish, can they?”</p>
+
+<p>“God forbid!” murmured the Rev. Martin Wells.
+“Yet I see nothing of them,” he added sorrowfully.</p>
+
+<p>Captain Ponsberry now reappeared, harpoon in
+hand. In years gone by the captain had been a
+whaler, and the harpoon was one with which he
+had struck many a monster of the deep. A light
+line was attached to it, which he rapidly uncoiled.</p>
+
+<p>“Now, then, make room, and I’ll give the rascal
+a taste of this!” cried the master of the <i>Columbia</i>;
+and standing on the taffrail, he took careful aim
+and let drive. There was a short whiz; the harpoon
+was seen to pierce the sawfish’s side, and instantly
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_114">[114]</span>the struggles grew more violent, while the
+sea was dyed a deep crimson.</p>
+
+<p>“Good! he’s struck!” cried several of the crew.
+“Shall we haul him in, captain?”</p>
+
+<p>“No; hold the line, that’s enough—he’s not dead
+yet, and we don’t want him to smash anything
+more,” was the answer. “Ah, he’s free of the
+yawl now! There he goes! Hold hard, all of
+you, or he’ll pull you overboard!”</p>
+
+<p>The men held “hard” as ordered, and the sawfish
+left the stern of the <i>Columbia</i> only to dart
+forward towards the bow. Then it went back and
+forth, hitting the line with its saw, but failing to
+break it. But the movements grew weaker and
+weaker, and at last ceased utterly, and then the great
+fish turned over on its back, and the fight was over.</p>
+
+<p>“He’s dead,” muttered Tom Grandon. “But
+where are Russell and Striker?”</p>
+
+<p>“Perhaps the sawfish struck ’em and killed ’em,”
+suggested the boatswain.</p>
+
+<p>As he spoke he caught sight of Olan Oleson, who
+had not gone swimming, but had continued to chew
+his quid in sullen silence. An evil smile of satisfaction
+lit up the Norwegian’s face, much to Cal Vincent’s
+disgust. “He wouldn’t like anything better
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_115">[115]</span>than to see poor Striker and the boy sent to Davy
+Jones’ locker,” he muttered.</p>
+
+<p>And now let us find out what really had become
+of Larry and his friend. As has been told, the hands
+of both went up to the gunwale of the yawl simultaneously;
+then came the shock and the flying
+splinters, and Larry felt himself drawn under, his
+feet caught in the curl of something cold and slippery.</p>
+
+<p>“A shark—I am lost!” was his agonizing thought,
+and he bumped up against Striker. The tail of the
+sawfish slapped first one and then the other, and it
+was a fortunate thing that the creature had its saw
+fast in the boat, otherwise one of them might have
+been killed.</p>
+
+<p>Larry was now out of breath, yet he kept his
+mouth closed, knowing that if he swallowed any of
+the ocean’s brine his senses would surely forsake
+him and he would be drowned. He felt for Striker,
+who also felt for the lad, and each clutched the other
+by the arm.</p>
+
+<p>It was at this juncture that Captain Ponsberry
+came on the scene with the harpoon, and the sawfish
+was struck just as Larry and Striker managed to get
+their feet against the yawl’s bottom and send themselves
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_116">[116]</span>several yards off, although deeper below the
+surface than ever. Instinctively both struck out,
+and a distance equal to that already from the enemy
+was covered ere either dared to come up, to get a
+breath of much-needed air.</p>
+
+<p>“Are you safe?” was Striker’s first question, and
+seeing that Larry was, he continued, “What was it?”</p>
+
+<p>“I—I—don’t know!” gasped the boy. “It’s
+pretty big, whatever it is. Oh, see, they have a line
+attached to it and are hauling it round to the starboard!”</p>
+
+<p>They had floated to the port side of the <i>Columbia</i>,
+and now swam as rapidly for the ship as their exhausted
+condition would permit.</p>
+
+<p>“On deck there! Throw us a line, if ye want us
+aboard!” piped up Striker.</p>
+
+<p>“Gee shoo! it’s the boys!” ejaculated Tom Grandon,
+and a rush was made by those who were not
+holding the sawfish. Several lines were cast overboard,
+and in a twinkle Larry and the tall Yankee
+were once more safe on board.</p>
+
+<p>“God be praised for His mercies!” murmured
+Mr. Wells, as he helped Larry over the rail and
+noticed how weak the lad was. “You have had a
+narrow escape, Lawrence, and you, too, Striker.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_117">[117]</span></p>
+
+<p>“I guess it was narrow!” returned the boy, as he
+wiped the water from his eyes. “But what is it?”</p>
+
+<p>“A sawfish, and a big one, too, according to
+Captain Ponsberry.”</p>
+
+<p>“I was afraid it was a shark,” put in Striker.
+“Phew! the way he hit the jolly-boat was a caution!
+I’m afraid the boat is about done for.”</p>
+
+<p>But he was mistaken. During the week following,
+the boatswain, who was also the ship’s carpenter,
+put several new planks and ribs into the yawl, as
+well as tarred and calked her, and then the small
+craft was as good as ever.</p>
+
+<p>It was no small task to get the sawfish on board,
+yet by means of loops around the head and tail, made
+of strong ropes, it was accomplished, and the creature
+was laid out on the deck for the inspection of
+passengers and crew alike. The body was long and
+thin, and of a gray and white color, ending in a
+double fan-shaped tail. The saw, so styled, was a
+horny protrusion extending from the snout of the
+fish, several inches in diameter, and furnished along
+its length with long but somewhat blunt teeth, the
+teeth being quite close together near the point. It
+was not a fierce fish to look at, neither was it a
+handsome creature.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_118">[118]</span></p>
+
+<p>“He goes pretty well armed,” remarked the missionary,
+as he looked the fish over with much interest.</p>
+
+<p>“You’d think so if you’d see him attack a whale,
+as I’ve seen,” replied Captain Ponsberry. “He
+makes a dive and a swish! and the first thing the
+whale knows he’s got that saw right through his belly,
+and then the chances are he’ll lose all interest in
+living; for if the first strike don’t kill, the sawfish will
+be off before the whale can strike back, and he’ll come
+on again, and there will be another ripping time.
+He’s a fearful fighter, for all of his meek looks.
+When he gets into a school of small fish, he strikes
+out right and left with that saw, and after it’s all
+over there will be dead fish everywhere. I once
+heard a learned professor say he was first cousin to
+the shark, and second cousin to the skate, a kind o’
+binding link betwixt the two.”</p>
+
+<p>“Is he good to eat?” questioned another of the
+passengers.</p>
+
+<p>“Every fish is good to eat—if you like the taste
+of the meat,” returned the captain, sagely. “As for
+me, I don’t want any sawfish steaks, although I have
+tried ’em.”</p>
+
+<p>“I’m sure I don’t want anything to eat from him,”
+half whispered Larry, at which Striker laughed.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_119">[119]</span></p>
+
+<p>“Won’t you now, Larry? Now that ain’t me—
+I’d much rather eat my enemy nor have my enemy
+eat me; hang me if I wouldn’t!”</p>
+
+<p>Yet, later on, when Jeff came along to get some of
+the sawfish’s meat to bake over the galley fire, he
+was told nobody wanted any, and after preserving
+the saw, Captain Ponsberry had the body hove overboard.</p>
+
+<p>Larry was tired out by the swimming race and by
+the adventure with the sawfish, and he was glad
+enough, after examining the fish, to lie down in his
+berth and take a rest and, later on, a good night’s
+sleep. Striker also slept soundly, and when early in
+the morning a breeze sprang up and the sails were
+hoisted, Captain Ponsberry gave orders not to disturb
+them, but to let the others do the necessary
+work.</p>
+
+<p>“They’ve earned the rest, poor chaps,” he said,
+“so let ’em have it.”</p>
+
+<p>The prediction that an island of the Farallon de
+Pajaros group would be sighted inside of two
+days was fulfilled. At noon on the second day
+Captain Ponsberry, sweeping the northwestern
+horizon with his glass, sighted a long, low shore
+backed up by a hill of rocks, and at once had the
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_120">[120]</span>course of the <i>Columbia</i> changed to that direction.
+The island kept growing larger and larger, and
+before sunset they came close up to it, and the
+yawl put out to find a safe entrance to what
+looked like a secure harbor. The coral reefs were
+numerous, but after an hour’s soundings Tom
+Grandon found a safe channel, and the <i>Columbia</i>
+swept in and came to an anchor.</p>
+
+<p>“What a sweet smell!” were Larry’s first words,
+as he stood at the rail, gazing at the shore, overgrown
+with brush, with here and there a stately
+cocoanut or other palm tree. “I wonder what it
+is.”</p>
+
+<p>“That is cinnamon you smell,” answered Mr.
+Wells. “You must know that we are now approaching
+those islands which grow the larger
+part of the spices which are used throughout the
+world. Oceanica, as these islands are termed taken
+together, produces cinnamon, pepper, nutmeg, and
+numerous other spices. As a rule the cinnamon
+comes from Ceylon, but single trees of that variety
+are to be found elsewhere, as in the present case.”</p>
+
+<p>“I trust we get a chance to run ashore,” said
+the boy, eagerly. “That looks like quite a large
+island. I wonder if it is inhabited?”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_121">[121]</span></p>
+
+<p>“That is hard to say. Certainly there are no
+evidences in sight to prove there are inhabitants,
+yet there may be some natives on the northern
+shore. There are many thousands of islands situated
+in this portion of the Pacific and Indian oceans,
+and the population is constantly shifting. You may
+visit an island one year and find there a considerable
+settlement; go there the next year and you will
+find not a soul. An earthquake has come, or a
+dreadful storm, or an enemy, or, mayhap, the inhabitants
+have heard of a better place and become
+emigrants.”</p>
+
+<p>“And what are the natives—Kanakas, like those
+at Honolulu?”</p>
+
+<p>“Hardly, although you will find Maoris here,
+similar to the people of New Zealand, from whom
+the Kanakas are supposed to be descendants. The
+majority of the natives are Malays, but there are
+also millions of black, woolly-headed people, known
+as Papuan negroes, and, of course, there are on
+the larger islands many whites, from Europe principally,
+as well as Chinese and Japanese.”</p>
+
+<p>“It’s a strange land.”</p>
+
+<p>“Taken as a whole it is fairly well known, but
+there are many islands that have never been explored,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_122">[122]</span>and there are many spots that no sea-captain
+would care to visit, for fear his ship would
+fall into the hands of pirates. But, thanks be to
+God, who watches over us all, this great, unknown
+world is slowly but surely giving itself over to
+Christianity, and with Christianity will come civilization
+in its best form. I do not fear for the future,
+although at present the horizon is sometimes
+dark,” concluded the missionary, reverently.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_123">[123]</span></p>
+
+  <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XIII">
+    CHAPTER XIII
+    <br>
+    <small>AN ISLAND NOT ALTOGETHER DESERTED</small>
+  </h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>“Hurrah! here we are on land once more!
+How good it feels to put one’s foot on old Mother
+Earth after being on shipboard so long!”</p>
+
+<p>It was Larry who uttered the words. He and
+a number of others had received permission to go
+ashore, to take a tramp around previous to filling
+the water-casks. In the party were Tom Grandon
+and Cal Vincent, and both were armed, the
+one with a rifle, and the other with a shotgun,
+ready to bring down anything in the shape of
+game which might appear.</p>
+
+<p>“I enjoy the shore myself, Larry,” answered
+Luke Striker, who was trudging along beside the
+boy, up the beach strewn high with shells and bits
+of broken coral. “But the cap’n says as how we
+must keep our eyes peeled for natives. Some of
+’em ain’t none too friendly in these parts.”</p>
+
+<p>“It looks as if there wasn’t a human soul in
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_124">[124]</span>sight or hearing outside of our own party, Luke.
+Just listen; there is nothing to be heard but the
+booming of the surf and the cries of the tropical birds.”</p>
+
+<p>“You don’t reckon that a native who was an
+enemy would come on to you blowing a fish-horn,
+do you?” answered the Yankee sailor, disdainfully.
+“No, sirree; he would come as sly as a cat figurin’
+on catchin’ a mouse. It’s their way, so I’ve heard,
+although I allow as I never yet met an enemy out
+in these parts, and I spent several years here.”</p>
+
+<p>The sun had come out strong and hot, and the
+whole party were glad enough to avail themselves
+of the shade that the tall bushes and stately palms
+afforded. Soon the strip of beach came to an end.
+Beyond was a series of rocks, one apparently toppled
+upon another, and all thickly overgrown with
+trailing vines. The boatswain, who was in front,
+came to a halt.</p>
+
+<p>“This channel ends here,” he said. “I don’t
+know about cuttin’ through yonder reefs!” and
+he pointed to the rising rocks.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, let us go ahead,” cried Larry. “See, the
+rocks seem to lead to the top of the island. If
+we once get up there, we’ll be able to look all
+around and down on the other side. Come on.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_125">[125]</span></p>
+
+<p>The boatswain demurred, but Striker, Vincent,
+and the others were with Larry, and so they began
+to mount the rocks,—a difficult undertaking, as they
+realized long before the top of the elevation was
+gained. One had to push the other, holding on to
+the vines in the mean time, and Hobson suffered a
+slip and a tumble which for several minutes deprived
+him of his breath. His clothing was much
+torn, especially his trousers, and at this the Englishman
+grumbled not a little.</p>
+
+<p>“It’s just my luck!” he said. “If I had a wife
+to sew ’em up, it would not be so bad, but when
+we get back to the <i>Columbia</i>, it will be myself
+who can set down with the wearisome needle,
+and nobody else.”</p>
+
+<p>“Never mind, Hobson,” laughed Larry. “I won
+half of those trousers at the swimming match, and
+I’ll give you my leg if Striker will give you his.”</p>
+
+<p>“Since one leg will do me small good, seeing I’m
+not stumping on a cork yet, he can have the leg,”
+answered the Yankee. “It’s a heap sight better nor
+cuttin’ ’em in half with the shears, as Captain Ponsberry
+suggested, when the parson wanted to know
+who was to get the prize.”</p>
+
+<p>At the remembrance of this bit of pleasantry on
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_126">[126]</span>Captain Ponsberry’s part, the whole party laughed,
+and on they went again in improved humor. Larry
+and Striker were slightly in advance, and seeing the
+end of the elevation just ahead, the boy made a dash
+to reach it first.</p>
+
+<p>“Here we are, and well worth the climb!” he
+exclaimed, as he gazed around. “What a beautiful
+view! I wish one of us had borrowed the
+captain’s spyglass.”</p>
+
+<p>A grand panorama was spread before and around
+them. On the opposite side of the elevation the
+slope was more gradual, and here tall grass, wild
+flowers, and shrubs grew in endless profusion, the
+flowers in all the gorgeous colors of the rainbow,
+and giving forth such a rich scent that it was
+almost sickening. Half way down the hill a large
+spring gushed from under a heavy rock, forming a
+tiny stream leading into the ocean beyond. On
+the left and the right were thick forests, principally
+of teak wood, ending in a series of coral reefs
+stretching forth from the island proper for the distance
+of quarter of a mile.</p>
+
+<p>“Don’t see any natives,” remarked Vincent, who
+had followed Larry and Striker. “Do you?”</p>
+
+<p>Striker was staring at a small clearing to the
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_127">[127]</span>northwest. “Am I mistaken or is that a hut over
+there?” he questioned, pointing with his long forefinger
+in the direction.</p>
+
+<p>All of the party took a long look. Larry and
+Striker were of the opinion that it was a hut, while
+the others thought it must be nothing but a peculiar
+formation of brush.</p>
+
+<p>“Certainly there are no natives in sight,” said
+Hobson. “Now we have come so far we might
+as well go down, and sample that spring as we
+pass.”</p>
+
+<p>This was agreed to, and after a brief breathing
+spell they set off, Larry and Striker again in the
+front. Going down had looked easy, but they got
+many a tumble and were glad enough to rest again
+when the spring was gained.</p>
+
+<p>“It’s mighty good water, but we can’t bring the
+casks up here,” remarked Vincent, as he swallowed
+a goodly portion of the cooling liquid. “The cap’n
+or some one of us will have to locate another spring
+nearer the ship.”</p>
+
+<p>In a few minutes they resumed the journey. The
+object Striker had pointed out was now in plain
+view, and they saw that it was indeed a hut, and
+no small one either. The shelter was at least
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_128">[128]</span>eight feet wide by fifteen feet long, and seven feet
+high at its lowest end. It contained a window on
+the side towards them, and beneath this was a rude
+bench made of a tree slab set upon flat stones.
+More than this, as they came closer, they discovered
+a stone fireplace in front of the hut,
+upon which rested an iron pot and several very
+rusty tin dishes.</p>
+
+<p>“Somebody’s camp!” cried Striker. “And a
+white man’s—I’ll wager a month’s pay. But he
+ain’t been here for a long while, not by the general
+look of things.”</p>
+
+<p>“No, I don’t believe a soul has been near this
+place in a year,” said Hobson. “Why, look at the
+spider webs; they tell the tale without anything
+else. Hullo, look there!”</p>
+
+<p>He pointed to the side of the hut, where, on a
+projection, hung a dilapidated sailor’s jacket, much
+the worse for exposure to the wind and weather.
+Beneath the jacket, half buried in the mud, rested
+a sailor’s hat.</p>
+
+<p>“That settles it,” muttered Striker. “Whoever
+lived here is either dead, or else some friendly ship
+chanced along and took him off.”</p>
+
+<p>“I wonder if he left anything behind him?” put
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_129">[129]</span>in Larry, after a pause. “Let us take a look into
+the hut.”</p>
+
+<p>“Beware of spiders and centipedes,” said Vincent,
+warningly. “Those creatures in these parts
+are not to be trifled with.” And he broke off a
+bush branch with which to clear the doorway.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh! Look out!”</p>
+
+<p>Several uttered the words simultaneously, and
+on the instant there was a wild scattering in every
+direction. Bang! went Tom Grandon’s rifle, but
+the shot failed to hit its mark. The weapon was
+hurled to the ground, and the mate of the <i>Columbia</i>
+did not stop running until he was knee-deep in the
+surf before the hut—to which all of the others
+had led the way.</p>
+
+<p>For from the interior of the shelter had glided a
+huge snake, brown in color, with black spots and
+yellow rings, and a long oval head, in which were
+set a pair of beady, angry eyes. The reptile was
+all of twelve feet in length, and thicker than a
+man’s arm, and it came forth so rapidly and unexpectedly
+that for the moment every one in the party
+was paralyzed with fear. It reached to within a
+yard of Larry before the lad saw it, and the backward
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_130">[130]</span>leap the youth made would have done credit
+to a skilled acrobat.</p>
+
+<p>“That must be a boa constrictor!” cried Striker,
+who had been the first to lead the way into the
+water.</p>
+
+<p>“I wonder if he can swim?” queried another of
+the sailors. “If he can, we aren’t safe here.”</p>
+
+<p>“Of course he can swim,” answered Grandon.
+“I tried my best to hit him, but I guess I didn’t
+make it. Cal, why don’t you go at him?”</p>
+
+<p>The last words had scarcely left the mate’s
+mouth when <a href="#i_fp130">the boatswain opened fire with the
+shotgun</a>, aiming directly at the upraised head of
+the snake, that had paused on the rim of the sea,
+as if undecided whether or not to undertake an
+aquatic pursuit. Vincent was very nervous, and
+the shot, instead of hitting its object, scattered on
+the sands a yard away.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter" id="i_fp130">
+  <img src="images/i_fp130.jpg" alt="" title="">
+  <figcaption>
+    <p class="noic smcap"><a href="#Page_130">The Boatswain Opened Fire with the Shotgun</a></p>
+  </figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>“Missed!” grunted Hobson. “Reckon, Cal, you
+couldn’t hit the broad side of a house with a Gatling
+gun.”</p>
+
+<p>“He is moving away, anyhow,” returned Vincent,
+as the great snake turned and slowly glided
+towards the brush behind the hut.</p>
+
+<p>“Give him another shot!” cried Striker. “Load
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_131">[131]</span>up and let me do the trick. Tom, where’s your
+rifle?”</p>
+
+<p>“I—I let it fall,” answered the mate of the
+<i>Columbia</i>, sheepishly. “There it is near the fireplace.”</p>
+
+<p>“Better go in and get it,” went on the Yankee
+sailor, facetiously.</p>
+
+<p>“Well—I—I’ll wait a bit. I don’t want to
+be bit or hugged to death. Give him a dose of
+shot, if you can hit him.”</p>
+
+<p>By this time the shotgun was loaded again, and
+now Striker took it. The great snake had reached
+the bushes and was lying with its head concealed,
+but the lower half of its shiny body exposed. Taking
+careful aim, the Yankee sailor fired, and an
+instant later the reptile was seen to turn and twist
+in every direction, slashing the bushes as with a
+flail. It had been struck fairly, but the shot was
+by no means a fatal one. It remained in view fully
+half a minute, then crawled further into the brush,
+where they heard it continue its thrashing.</p>
+
+<p>“There, I don’t think he’ll bother us much more,”
+remarked Striker, as he handed the shotgun back
+to Vincent. “Tom, you can get your rifle now,
+if you want it.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_132">[132]</span></p>
+
+<p>The mate hated very much to make the move,
+but not willing to show too much cowardice, he
+waded ashore slowly and with extreme caution.
+Securing the weapon, he rushed back to the others,
+but the snake did not show itself again.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, this looks as if we were in a pickle,”
+remarked Larry, who, it must be said, was as cool
+as any of them—although this is not saying a great
+deal. “Here we are, and our ship on the other side
+of the island, and nothing to do but to tramp
+through that brush and over those rocks, and
+perhaps stir up another of those snakes. I’ve
+heard they often travel in pairs.”</p>
+
+<p>“No! no! you don’t catch me cutting through
+the brush again!” ejaculated Hobson. “That
+bloody reptile was too much for me. Ugh! my
+blood is running cold yet. If I was to meet him
+in the bushes, I’d die, I know I should, and I’m no
+more of a coward than most men at that.”</p>
+
+<p>At these words each of the little party looked
+at the others. It was truly an uncomfortable situation
+in which to be placed. What was best to be
+done?</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_133">[133]</span></p>
+
+  <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XIV">
+    CHAPTER XIV
+    <br>
+    <small>THE PHILIPPINE ISLANDS AND THE REBELS</small>
+  </h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>“Well, there are only two ways of getting
+back,” remarked the mate of the <i>Columbia</i>, after
+a long pause. “One is to climb the hill, and the
+other is to skirt either the east or the west shore.
+It’s a close mile across, and I reckon it’s three
+miles around, one way or the other.”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, I reckon it is three miles by way of the
+shore,” answered Hobson. “But there is a beach
+most of the way, if not all of the way, and it will
+be easier walking on that than it will be a-climbing
+the rocks.”</p>
+
+<p>“I say let us try the shore,” put in Vincent, who
+was as scared as any one. “We won’t be worried
+about snakes, and we’ll see more than if we went
+back by the way we came. The question is, which
+shore, east or west?”</p>
+
+<p>The question was debated for a few minutes,
+and it was decided that, according to the view
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_134">[134]</span>from the top of the hill, the eastern shore route
+must be the shorter, and would, consequently, be
+the best to take, for all felt that they must now
+be getting back to the ship. Both the rifle and
+shotgun were loaded, and off they started, the
+two armed men in advance, on the alert to fire at
+the first enemy which might appear.</p>
+
+<p>For the first mile nothing came to view but the
+ocean upon one side, and a stretch of beach and
+brush upon the other, backed up by the forests
+previously mentioned. In the brush and trees
+could be heard great numbers of birds, and both
+Grandon and Vincent would have gone in for game
+had it not been that the remembrance of the snake
+held them back. Yet they managed, by keeping
+wide awake, to bring down several cockatoos and
+a species of wild turkey, and of these they were
+very proud.</p>
+
+<p>After the turkey was killed and slung over the
+mate’s shoulder, another mile was covered, and
+then they came to a small bay, or inlet, on the
+other side of which was a hump of rocks, hiding
+the south shore, where they knew the <i>Columbia</i>
+must be at anchor. Striker was now again in
+advance, with Larry beside him.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_135">[135]</span></p>
+
+<p>“Avast!” cried the Yankee sailor, suddenly
+plucking the boy by the sleeve. “Get back there,
+out of sight, all of you, and I’ll capture a prize
+wuth havin’!”</p>
+
+<p>He motioned to the others, who came to an
+immediate halt. Looking ahead, they saw at the
+back of the sunny inlet several large turtles basking
+on the beach, their necks and legs stretched
+out to the fullest extent.</p>
+
+<p>“Can you do the trick?” whispered Hobson.
+“I’ve heard tell it’s got to be managed cleverly
+or the turtle will get away.”</p>
+
+<p>“Trust me—I’ve done it before—when I was
+ashore on Luzon!” answered the Yankee sailor.
+“Watch me, Larry; it’s a trick worth knowing—in
+case ye are cast ashore some day with no
+food and no gun to bring it down with.”</p>
+
+<p>While the rest of the party retreated to the
+shelter of some nearby bushes, having by this
+time gotten over the greater part of the fright
+occasioned by the snake, Luke Striker crawled
+stealthily along the beach and entered the shallow
+waters of the inlet, pursuing a course which presently
+brought him up directly in front of the
+turtles, who still lay unconscious of their danger.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_136">[136]</span></p>
+
+<p>In a few minutes Striker had gained the edge
+of the beach, and here he paused, to decide the
+question of which turtle to attack first. There
+were three in a bunch, two nearly side by side and
+the third a few yards to the rear, while a fourth
+turtle lay still further back, but somewhat to the
+left of its mates.</p>
+
+<p>Having fixed his plan of attack, the Yankee
+rushed forward as nimbly as his long legs would
+carry him, and, catching the nearest turtle by the
+side edge of the shell gave it a scoop which immediately
+placed it upon its back, with its legs
+squirming harmlessly in the air.</p>
+
+<p>Instantly there was a commotion, and with a
+great flapping the remaining turtles started up,
+and, seeing their enemy, made a rush towards the
+nearest water, that beside the one turned over
+uttering a savage hiss at Striker as it darted by,
+just escaping his reach.</p>
+
+<p>With the next nearest turtle gone, the Yankee
+leaped for the one behind the pair, which started
+for the water, then on seeing the sailor directly
+in the way, turned to move to one side. Another
+dexterous scoop, and this one was also helpless,
+and away went Striker for the fourth, now ten
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_137">[137]</span>yards off and making for the water at the height
+of its clumsy speed. It was a nip-and-tuck race,
+in more ways than one; for as the sailor reached
+the turtle, it suddenly turned, gave him a vicious
+nip in the leg, and before Striker could recover
+tumbled into the water and was gone.</p>
+
+<p>“Wuow!” came from the Yankee, and for the
+time being his captures were forgotten, as he
+danced around in pain. Soon the wound was uncovered,
+and was found to be not unlike what an
+angry cat might have made. Striker lost no time
+in bathing it with salt water, and then with some
+brandy Grandon carried in a flask, doing this to
+avoid the possibility of blood poisoning.</p>
+
+<p>The two turtles lying upon their backs were
+each over a foot and a half in diameter, with
+shells of unusual beauty, as Larry could see at a
+glance. They were soon put to death, and turned
+over, and the boy examined them with interest.</p>
+
+<p>“They are hawk’s-bill turtles,” said Vincent. “A
+good catch. Do you know what this shell is used
+for?” he went on, to Larry.</p>
+
+<p>“It looks a little like tortoise-shell.”</p>
+
+<p>“It is tortoise-shell, although it will need a deal
+of polishing before it will show up as beautiful as
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_138">[138]</span>it does in combs and ladies’ pocket-knives, and the
+like. The natives take the shell off by turning
+the poor creatures over and making a fire under
+’em while they are still alive; but that is the wust
+kind of cruelty.”</p>
+
+<p>No time was lost, after Striker’s wound had
+been dressed, in fastening several bits of cord to
+the two turtles, and while Larry and the Yankee
+carried one between them, the others of the party
+took care of the second. Crossing the hump of
+rocks, they came in sight of the <i>Columbia</i> as anticipated,
+and soon after entered the yawl and rowed
+out to the schooner.</p>
+
+<p>“I was calculating you had got lost,” cried Captain
+Ponsberry, when they appeared. “Humph!
+A couple o’ good hawk’s-bills, but not much to eat.”</p>
+
+<p>“Aren’t the turtles good eating?” asked Larry.</p>
+
+<p>“About as good as that sawfish, lad. Green
+turtles are the thing; these are poor stuff, although
+we might try one, just for a change.”</p>
+
+<p>The story they had to tell about the snake was
+listened to with much interest. “I do not blame
+you for trying to keep out of the reach of those
+reptiles,” said Mr. Wells. “If one of them caught
+any of the party, the unfortunate would be crushed
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_139">[139]</span>to a jelly and then slowly devoured. Perhaps that
+is what happened to the former inhabitant of the
+solitary hut you visited.”</p>
+
+<p>In coming over the hump of rocks near Turtle
+Cove, as Larry named the spot, they had located
+another spring, less than a hundred yards from
+shore. Upon learning of this, the schooner was
+towed around to the inlet, and the task of filling
+the water-casks began that afternoon and was completed
+the next day. Then up went the anchor
+once more, every sail was set, and the trip to
+Hong Kong was resumed.</p>
+
+<p>Again the days lengthened into weeks, and as
+nothing occurred in the way of storms the voyage
+became as monotonous as before. The only break
+was on Sunday, when the Rev. Martin Wells held
+a regular church service, morning and evening,
+which all were glad to attend, some, among whom
+was Larry, because they thought it the proper
+thing to do, and the others because the missionary
+was a good speaker and it helped to pass the
+time. Even Olan Oleson attended, but it is doubtful
+if the sermons and prayers affected the wicked-minded
+Norwegian, who was plotting continually
+to revenge himself upon Larry and Striker.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_140">[140]</span></p>
+
+<p>Mr. Wells was much pleased to see what an
+interest Larry took in his work, and how ready
+the lad was to lead in the singing of the hymns,
+and the two became better friends than ever. The
+missionary had long since heard the story of the
+boy’s trouble at home, and while he did not exactly
+approve of what had been done, yet he felt it a
+hard task to offer any censure, considering how
+Larry and his brothers must have suffered through
+the loss of their mother and the breaking up of
+the home. He advised Larry to write a plain
+straightforward letter to Job Dowling from Hong
+Kong, telling of what he had done, and then to
+hope for the best.</p>
+
+<p>“You’ll feel better for having written, mark my
+words,” he concluded. “And your uncle ought to
+know where you are, in case anything happens to
+you.” And Larry promised that the letter should
+be written.</p>
+
+<p>As the time sped by, the vast Pacific Ocean was
+left behind, and they began to crawl slowly but
+surely into the South China Sea, at a point
+directly below the most southerly extremity of the
+island of Formosa.</p>
+
+<p>“It won’t be many days now before our trip comes
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_141">[141]</span>to an end,” remarked the missionary to Larry, one
+hot, starlit evening, as the two lounged along the
+starboard rail, wondering when the coast of Formosa
+would be sighted. “The distance from South Point
+on Formosa to Hong Kong is not much over four
+hundred miles.”</p>
+
+<p>“This is the island from which the famous Formosa
+teas come, I suppose?” said Larry.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, the island is famous for its teas, and tea-growing
+is its main industry, although, I believe,
+rice is also raised to some extent.”</p>
+
+<p>“Striker was telling me that the Philippines are
+directly south of us,” went on the boy. “He has
+visited Luzon, which he says is the largest of the
+group.”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, Luzon is the largest island, and upon that
+is situated Manila, the principal city. There are a
+great number of islands, some navigators placing the
+figure at thirteen hundred, but many of these are
+mere bits of coral formation and uninhabited. The
+islands of any consequence, and which are peopled,
+number in the neighborhood of four hundred.”</p>
+
+<p>“Four hundred! Well, that is enough, I’m sure.”</p>
+
+<p>The missionary smiled. “Yes, that is enough, yet
+you must remember that the Philippines are only
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_142">[142]</span>one group of islands out of many in Oceanica. How
+many islands there really are will, perhaps, never be
+known; for many of them are of volcanic origin, and
+rise and sink as volcanoes burst forth or earthquakes
+occur.”</p>
+
+<p>“That wouldn’t be very nice, if a fellow should
+happen to be around at the time.”</p>
+
+<p>“Thousands of the natives have lost their lives
+through the actions of the volcanoes and the earthquakes,
+as well as by the tidal waves which very
+often accompany such phenomena. But there are
+millions more to take the places of the lost ones, and
+so, poor creatures, they are never missed. I presume
+the Philippines will be of unusual interest to the
+Americans in case the blowing up of the <i>Maine</i>
+should lead to a war with Spain.”</p>
+
+<p>“Why should they be?”</p>
+
+<p>“Outside of Cuba and Porto Rico, the Philippines
+are Spain’s only colonial possessions of value, and I
+have heard it stated that the Philippines are among
+the richest islands in the world, being, on account of
+their volcanic origin, full of precious minerals. Besides
+this, large quantities of hemp are grown here,
+out of which manila rope and manila paper are
+made.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_143">[143]</span></p>
+
+<p>“And does Spain rule the natives here as badly as
+she rules the Cubans?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, every bit, if not worse. Uprisings are frequent,
+and Spain has a regular standing army quartered
+in and around Manila, Bulacano, and other
+cities. Even now the natives are in a state of
+revolt, under the leadership of a General Aguinaldo.
+The natives have put up with the iron hand of
+tyranny for years, and should they ever win what
+they are fighting for, it is likely every Spaniard on
+the islands will be butchered.”</p>
+
+<p>Larry shuddered. “Coming from the States, one
+would scarcely dream of such horrors, Mr. Wells.”</p>
+
+<p>“That is true, Lawrence; but, as I told you in a
+previous talk, Spain has only herself to blame for all
+this. She has misused these people for centuries,
+and now must take the consequence. I can scarcely
+believe it, yet only a short while ago I received several
+letters from Manila and Hong Kong giving the
+details of a fearful slaughter of rebels whom the
+Spanish troops in Luzon had captured. There were
+over a hundred of them, and the poor fellows were
+taken to the Lunetta, a favorite concourse outside
+of Manila, where in the presence of thousands
+of people, including women,—I cannot call such
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_144">[144]</span>immodest creatures ladies,—the victims were bound,
+drawn up in a long line with the Spanish details
+behind them, and, at a given signal, were shot down
+like so many dogs. Our missionary at Manila mentioned
+one of the number in particular, a young
+fellow not over eighteen years of age, in whom he
+had become greatly interested. The poor boy was
+drawn up in line with the rest, but was not killed at
+the first volley, nor at the second, and at last a
+Spanish surgeon who was on duty there ordered one
+of the soldiers to come up close with his gun and
+finish the poor lad, and this was done in a manner I
+would not care to put into words. When such
+things occur, is it any wonder that those who are
+oppressed rise up determined to either throw off the
+yoke of tyranny or give up their lives in the effort?”</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_145">[145]</span></p>
+
+  <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XV">
+    CHAPTER XV
+    <br>
+    <small>ALONE ON THE CHINA SEA</small>
+  </h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>South Point, the lowest extremity of Formosa,
+was passed on the following day, a mere speck
+upon the horizon, and then the bow of the gallant
+<i>Columbia</i> was turned directly for Hong Kong.</p>
+
+<p>As one day after another went by, the weather,
+which had heretofore been nearly all that could be
+desired, changed with great suddenness. One day
+it would be blazing hot, so hot that no one could
+stand it on the deck during midday; the next
+it would be cold, with high winds and a driving
+rain from the northward, which sent the schooner
+scudding southward under bare poles, and caused
+every stick of timber to creak and groan in a
+manner new to Larry’s ears.</p>
+
+<p>“I knowed we would pay up for all that niceness,”
+grumbled Luke Striker, as he came into
+the forecastle one afternoon drenched to the skin.
+“We’re going to have a spell of the dirtiest
+weather you ever saw; mark my words.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_146">[146]</span></p>
+
+<p>“It can’t be any worse than it is just now,”
+answered Larry, who was holding on to the edge
+of his berth to keep himself from sliding to the
+floor. “My gracious! I thought a while ago the
+<i>Columbia</i> would go clean over! It wouldn’t take
+much sail to pull a stick out of her just now.”</p>
+
+<p>“We won’t fly a rag for forty-eight hours,” put
+in Hobson, who had followed Striker in. “It’s a
+regular hurricane, and we can be thankful if we
+keep right side up.”</p>
+
+<p>At that moment Olan Oleson approached the
+doorway from outside. The big Norwegian was
+as wet as any of them and in a worse humor than
+usual. In his arms he carried his great-coat, which
+for some reason he had just taken off. As Larry
+looked up at him, he swung the dripping garment
+around and hit the boy fairly across the face with
+it.</p>
+
+<p>“You tak dat!” he cried. “You no laugh at
+me for nothank!”</p>
+
+<p>“What do you mean by that, Oleson?” spluttered
+Larry, as soon as he could speak. “I wasn’t
+laughing at you. I just looked up to see who was
+coming in.”</p>
+
+<p>“I know better—you shut your mouth,” blustered
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_147">[147]</span>Oleson, and then out of pure ugliness of
+temper he attempted to hit Larry again.</p>
+
+<p>But now the boy was on his guard and dodged.
+Then he caught hold of the great-coat and attempted
+to pull it from Oleson’s grasp. The Norwegian
+held fast, and a sharp but short tug-of-war
+ensued, coming to a sudden termination when a
+ripping sound was heard and the coat began to
+tear up the back.</p>
+
+<p>“Now see what you do!” fumed Oleson, as
+Larry released his hold. “You spoil dat coat. I
+mak you pay for him!”</p>
+
+<p>“It’s your own fault,” was the quick answer, as
+Larry wiped the water from his face. “You had
+no business to hit me.”</p>
+
+<p>“That’s right, Oleson; it wasn’t fair,” broke in
+Striker.</p>
+
+<p>“You kap out of dis, or I mak you!” shouted
+the Norwegian, almost beside himself with rage.
+“He tear de coat and he pay for him. I show
+you!”</p>
+
+<p>He dashed the garment on his berth and leaped
+upon Larry. The boy tried to escape, but there
+was no room in the narrow forecastle, and down
+he went over a stool, with Oleson on top of him.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_148">[148]</span>The fall was a bad one, and Larry’s back might
+have been broken had not both Striker and Hobson
+interfered and hauled Oleson off.</p>
+
+<p>“Lat go me!” screamed the Norwegian. “Lat go!”</p>
+
+<p>“I will—when you promise to behave yourself,”
+returned Striker. “You’re a nice brute to tackle
+a mere boy like Larry.”</p>
+
+<p>“Lat go! I report you to de captain.”</p>
+
+<p>“Do it, and welcome,” were Striker’s words, and
+giving a sudden twist, he threw Oleson down and
+sat upon him. The Norwegian squirmed and fumed,
+but all to no purpose.</p>
+
+<p>How far the quarrel might have gone there is
+no telling. But now an interruption came—an
+interruption so terrible that for the time being all
+else was forgotten.</p>
+
+<p>As I have mentioned, the rain and wind were
+both high, but up to this time the electrical disturbances
+in the sky—so common to this locality—had
+been comparatively insignificant. Now,
+however, there came without an instant’s warning
+a blinding flash of lightning which blazed upon
+every part of the <i>Columbia</i>, followed instantly by
+a crack of thunder which to Larry sounded like
+the crack of doom.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_149">[149]</span></p>
+
+<p>“Oh!” cried the boy, and fell back a few paces
+into the arms of Hobson. He could say no more,
+nor could any of the rest. Silently Striker leaped
+from Oleson, who scrambled to his feet, and then
+came another crash, which set Larry’s every nerve
+into a quiver.</p>
+
+<p>“We’re struck!” screamed a voice from outside.
+“On deck, men! on deck!”</p>
+
+<p>“Struck!” gasped Larry. “Oh, I hope not!”</p>
+
+<p>“Gosh, but that was a corker!” burst out Striker,
+regaining his breath. “Never heard quite sech a
+hard crack afore.”</p>
+
+<p>He darted out of the forecastle, and the others
+followed him. The lightning had left all behind
+it almost as dark as pitch, and no one could see
+where to go.</p>
+
+<p>“Hold tight, or you’ll be blowed overboard!”
+came from Hobson. “Where are we struck?” he
+yelled as hard as he could, in order to make himself
+heard above the whistling of the wind.</p>
+
+<p>“The foremast is hit, and the bow’s afire!” came
+in Tom Grandon’s voice. “Quick, boys, out with
+the fire-hose and start up the pump. Remember,
+the oil pantry is close to the blaze!”</p>
+
+<p>“The oil pantry! God be with us!” The words
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_150">[150]</span>came from the Rev. Martin Wells. “Let me help
+at the work, mate; the sooner we put the fire out,
+the better.”</p>
+
+<p>“All right, sir,” answered Grandon. “But have
+a care, or you’ll roll overboard. See, men,” he
+went on, “the mast is afire; that is, what is left of
+it. Hobson, Roddy, get the axes and chop it away.
+Striker, bring the hose around the mizzenmast and
+over to larboard. It’s a wonder some of you men
+forward weren’t knocked out. The poor captain’s
+senseless. Oleson, help Striker with that hose, and
+you, too, Larry. Vincent, cut the ropes with a
+knife, or an axe, if you’ve got one. The rest of
+you screw the hose to the pump and turn on the
+water. I’ll chop this woodwork away so you can
+get at the fire below.” And crash! crash! went
+Tom Grandon’s axe, as he worked away manfully,
+while the crew scurried off in all directions, to do
+as ordered.</p>
+
+<p>Striker had already run for the hose, and soon
+several lengths were unreeled, and not only Larry
+and Oleson, but also the missionary, took hold to
+drag it forward. The larboard rail was just gained
+when the <i>Columbia</i> gave a sharp lurch, and down
+went the three men and the boy in the scupper-hole.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_151">[151]</span>Oleson came on top of Larry, and took
+grim delight in planting the heel of his rough boot
+on the lad’s neck.</p>
+
+<p>“Get off of my neck, Oleson!” cried Larry,
+and then Striker hurled the Norwegian back and
+scrambled up. He had just reached for the rail,
+when, muttering some fierce imprecation in his
+native tongue, Oleson caught Striker by the leg
+and flung him over the side! For one second the
+Yankee sailor seemed to hang in mid-air, then with
+a wild cry he disappeared into the boiling waters
+beside the vessel.</p>
+
+<p>“Striker!” gasped Larry. “He will be drowned!
+Hobson! Vincent! Mr. Grandon! Come here!
+Oleson has thrown—”</p>
+
+<p>He was permitted to go no further, for the
+Norwegian had now turned and caught him by
+the throat. “You can a-go wid him!” hissed the
+infuriated rascal, and forced the alarmed boy over
+the rail. In vain Larry tried to cling fast; Oleson
+beat off his hold, and down he went into that
+same tempest-tossed element, out of sight and hearing
+of those who were hurrying to answer his
+call.</p>
+
+<p>How far down into the depths of the China Sea
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_152">[152]</span>Larry descended he never knew, but it was to him
+a long distance. Instinctively he closed his mouth
+and held his breath as he felt the warm currents
+shift and swirl around him. Was he being drawn
+down under the <i>Columbia</i>? Fervently he prayed
+not.</p>
+
+<p>When he did come up, to puff and blow like a
+porpoise, all was dark around him. He was on
+the top of a huge wave; a second later he went
+down into a great hollow, the waves before and
+behind him seeming like hills ready to tumble in
+and plunge him out of existence. Again he prayed
+a silent prayer—yet none the less heard—that his
+life might be spared to him.</p>
+
+<p>A minute later came another flash of lightning,
+revealing two things apart from the waste of water
+around him. One was the <i>Columbia</i> fast receding
+in the distance; the second was a life-preserver
+some thoughtful friend had thrown overboard after
+him.</p>
+
+<p>“Gone!” he murmured, with a sinking heart.
+“Will they come back? Oh, they must come
+back! They won’t desert Striker and me like
+this!”</p>
+
+<p><a href="#i_fp152">The life-preserver floated but a short
+distance </a><span class="pagenum" id="Page_153">[153]</span><a href="#i_fp152">away</a>, yet it was no easy task to secure it amid
+those mountainous waves. He struck out valiantly,
+guided by the flashes of lightning which followed.
+He was all but exhausted when he finally gained
+the article and adjusted it under his arms. With
+the preserver, floating was easy.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter" id="i_fp152">
+  <img src="images/i_fp152.jpg" alt="" title="">
+  <figcaption>
+    <p class="noic smcap"><a href="#Page_152">The Life-preserver floated but a Short Distance away</a></p>
+  </figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>The seconds lengthened into minutes after that,
+and the minutes into hours, and still he floated
+aimlessly about, the sport of the wind and the
+waves. Sometimes a wave would break over his
+head, almost knocking out of him the little breath
+that remained. The rain came down as hard as
+ever, but the lightning and thunder became less
+frequent, and finally died away altogether, leaving
+him to the utter blackness of the night.</p>
+
+<p>It was a time never to be forgotten, a time
+stamped indelibly upon Larry Russell’s memory,
+that lonely night on the China Sea, floating he
+knew not where, fearing that even if he kept
+afloat until daybreak no one would come to his
+rescue, but that he should continue to drift until
+hunger and thirst should claim him as their own.
+“Oh, God, help me!” he cried, not once but many
+times; yet only the whistling wind seemed to answer
+in mockery.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_154">[154]</span></p>
+
+  <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XVI">
+    CHAPTER XVI
+    <br>
+    <small>CAST ASHORE ON AN ISLAND</small>
+  </h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>“Not a bit of land nor a sail in sight!”</p>
+
+<p>Such were the disheartening words which escaped
+Larry’s lips when the morning had dawned, and he
+had taken a long and careful look around, as one
+wave and another lifted him up to the level of the
+dark green mountains shifting around him.</p>
+
+<p>The long stretches of the night, coupled with the
+fury of the elements, had thoroughly exhausted him,
+and it took all the little will-power left to keep from
+dropping over into a sleep which would surely have
+ended in death.</p>
+
+<p>The morning sun glinted over the waves, flashing
+and flaring in his eyes, and then began to mount the
+skies and pour down those scorching rays upon his
+uncovered head. Soon this brought to him the first
+of the added perils of which he had thought—that
+of thirst. Never was he so dry before—with millions
+of tons of water around him! He was almost
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_155">[155]</span>tempted to drink of the salty water, but resisted,
+knowing full well that if he did so, his thirst would
+be tenfold increased.</p>
+
+<p>Where would it end?</p>
+
+<p>Over and over again he asked himself that question
+without being able to devise an answer. Would
+not some friendly sail appear, or some tiny coral
+island—one of those many of which the missionary
+had spoken? Thinking of Mr. Wells made him
+think of the <i>Columbia</i>. Surely, surely, his friends on
+board of her would not desert him. But then his
+cheeks blanched as he thought of the storm and the
+fire. Had the gallant craft fallen a prey to one or
+the other, after all? It might be, for ships had been
+struck by lightning and gone down before.</p>
+
+<p>Towards noon, with the fierce sun directly overhead,
+he felt that the end must be near. His mind
+was in a whirl, and fearful visions came to him:
+now he was battling with the sawfish, then the
+great snake was coming through the water after
+him, and anon Oleson had him by the throat and
+was choking him. The last vision seemed so real
+that he cried out as loudly as his parched throat
+would permit, “Help! help! somebody help me!”</p>
+
+<p>What was that? an answering call? No, no, it
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_156">[156]</span>must be another hallucination. Yet he strained his
+ears eagerly, and screamed again. No, it was no
+deception; the call was returned, and the voice
+sounded sweetly familiar. He was down in a hollow,
+and waited eagerly to mount the coming wave.
+Up he went, and still up, to come in contact with
+a bit of wreckage—the fore-topmast of the <i>Columbia</i>,
+with its trailing ropes. As he caught the
+end of the mast, he saw that the centre supported
+a sailor’s body.</p>
+
+<p>“Luke Striker!”</p>
+
+<p>“Larry Russell! Is it possible!” came from the
+Yankee tar. For the moment he could scarcely
+believe his eyesight. “How did this happen? Did
+the <i>Columbia</i> go down?”</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t know about that,” answered Larry, moving
+closer to his friend. “Oh, how glad I am that
+we have come together!” he exclaimed, his wet face
+beaming with pleasure. “It’s awful to be alone.”</p>
+
+<p>“So it is, Larry, and I was thinking just that same
+when I heard your call. But how is it you are here if
+you don’t know about the fate of the <i>Columbia</i>?”</p>
+
+<p>“Oleson pitched me overboard. When you went
+over, I started to call for help, and he turned on me
+like a flash; and here I am.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_157">[157]</span></p>
+
+<p>“And you don’t know about the craft—if she
+is O. K. or not?”</p>
+
+<p>“I am afraid something must have happened, for
+Captain Ponsberry wouldn’t desert us like this,
+would he?”</p>
+
+<p>“Cap’n Ponsberry was knocked out by the lightning—don’t
+you remember Tom Grandon sayin’
+so? But Tom wouldn’t desert us; I know him
+too well. Yes, I’m afraid the ship has had a tough
+time of it, and maybe she’s at the bottom of the
+China Sea this minit.” Striker drew a deep breath.
+“We’re in a pickle, lad, jest about as deep as we can
+git!”</p>
+
+<p>“I know I am dying for a drink. Oh, if only we
+could sight land somewhere! Are we far from
+Formosa?”</p>
+
+<p>“Formosa? Why, lad, we’ve been driving south’ard
+as fast as we could for forty-eight hours. We
+are closer to some o’ the Philippines nor anything—though
+I allow as they must be miles an’ miles away.
+Yet I’m prayin’ myself we may strike some land
+afore we see Davy Jones’ locker.”</p>
+
+<p>With some of the dangling ropes Striker had
+made himself a sort of seat beside the mast, and now
+Larry went to work, on the opposite side, to do the
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_158">[158]</span>same for himself. This accomplished, he rested far
+more comfortably than before. While he was at
+work, the Yankee sailor took another rope which was
+slender, and began to twist and braid it into a shell-like
+head covering, similar to one he had already
+made for himself. The dampness and shade of the
+improvised hat made Larry’s head feel much better.</p>
+
+<p>Slowly the afternoon wore away. Towards evening
+the sun went behind a dense mass of angry
+clouds, and it began to rain as before, while the distant
+rumble of thunder crept closer and closer. An
+hour later the storm was on them in all of its fury,
+and they found themselves driving to the southwestward,
+over and through the boiling and lashing
+waves which threatened to engulf them forever.</p>
+
+<p>“I can’t stand much of this!” panted poor Larry,
+at about midnight. “My chest is pounded so sore
+I can hardly breathe. Every time a wave breaks
+over me I— Oh, Luke, look!”</p>
+
+<p>A broad spread of lightning had lit up the scene
+around them, causing Larry to suddenly change his
+talk.</p>
+
+<p>“What is it, Larry?”</p>
+
+<p>“Land! just ahead of us! We are getting into
+the breakers already!”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_159">[159]</span></p>
+
+<p>He spoke the truth, and a second later another
+flash of lightning gave Striker an opportunity to
+take in the situation.</p>
+
+<p>“You’re right, my lad. Quick! unfasten yourself
+from that rope and hold ready to let go, or you
+may be smashed to jelly between the mast and the
+rocks. See, we are already passing over an outer
+reef. Look out, and if your feet touch the beach
+run as hard as you can from the undertow!”</p>
+
+<p>Striker fairly screamed the last words, in order
+to make himself heard, for the pounding of the
+surf was like the booming of cannons around them.
+Up they went to the top of the last wave, and then
+down and down until the feet of both touched some
+hard substance. The spray was flying in every direction,
+while the brine was lashed into a thick
+foam. Larry tried to keep his feet, but failed
+utterly, and rolled over and over, he knew not
+whither. The mast, which had slipped from him,
+bumped his arm, and, without thinking of what he
+was doing, he clutched the tangled-up ropes. Then
+came a second rise, and he was swept in closer
+than before. The receding waves left him but
+knee-deep in the element. A flash of lightning
+showed him in what direction safety lay, and he
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_160">[160]</span>ran with all the power left to his legs. Once he
+went down on his hands, and the next wave nearly
+caught him, but he was up again in a trice, and in
+a moment more was safe on the rocks which arose
+directly behind the storm-beaten beach.</p>
+
+<p>“Luke! are you safe?” were the first words he
+uttered, as soon as he could catch his breath.</p>
+
+<p>“I am, and thank God for it!” came from the
+Yankee sailor, and presently he appeared out of
+the darkness. “That was a close shave, lad, wasn’t
+it? I came near to striking on my head.”</p>
+
+<p>“It was a close shave,” answered Larry, and
+added reverently: “We have much to thank
+Heaven for, haven’t we?” Somehow, that time of
+extreme peril was deeply impressed upon his youthful
+mind.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, lad, God has been with us this night, no
+doubt of it. We couldn’t have stood it much
+longer drifting in that sea. Let us get a little
+further back, under the shelter of yonder overhanging
+cliff; and there we can take it easy until
+morning.”</p>
+
+<p>Both had dropped upon the rocks, too exhausted
+to stand, but now they managed to reach the base
+of the cliff Striker had mentioned, and here they
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_161">[161]</span>found a sheltered nook. Close at hand was a pool
+of rain-water, of which both partook eagerly.</p>
+
+<p>Half an hour later found the pair asleep—sleeping
+the heavy sleep of the over-tired,—undisturbed
+by the thunder in the skies or on the beach. They
+knew not where they had landed, nor did they care.
+It was enough to know they had struck land, and
+an island that was not barren, but covered with
+tropical growth, as the flashes of lightning had
+revealed.</p>
+
+<p>Striker was the first to awaken in the morning.
+He opened his eyes to find the storm cleared away
+and the sun shining brightly. Larry lay at his
+side, the boy’s curly head resting upon his wet
+arm, slumbering as soundly as ever.</p>
+
+<p>“I’ll let him sleep until he wakes up—no use
+to ’rouse him,” thought the Yankee sailor, and got
+up himself. He was stiff and sore, and it was several
+seconds before he felt in the humor to set off
+on a tour of inspection. Before going, he brought
+from one of his pockets a water-proof match-safe,
+and was delighted to find therein eight matches
+all in perfect condition.</p>
+
+<p>A short walk along the cliff, below and above,—for
+the rocky shelf was irregular, and not over
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_162">[162]</span>twenty feet high,—convinced Striker that no human
+beings were in the vicinity, to become their
+friends or their enemies; and then the sailor set
+about obtaining some food, for he was now nearly
+starved.</p>
+
+<p>He felt certain that the storm had cast up upon
+the irregular beach more or less fish, and in this
+he was not mistaken, for hardly had he covered a
+distance of half a dozen rods than he heard a flapping,
+and saw a winged coryphene trying vainly to
+reach the ocean, from which it had been hurled.</p>
+
+<p>“A dolphin!” he cried, making a mistake common
+to many sailors, who do not distinguish the
+difference between the two creatures. In a second
+he had the coryphene by the tail, and a blow upon
+the rocks ended the wounded one’s misery and made
+the prize his own. The fish was over two feet long,
+and weighed all of seven pounds. It was at first
+black and brown, but its colors soon changed to
+olive and azure,—a peculiarity which it shares with
+the true dolphin of other waters.</p>
+
+<p>Fish in hand, Striker returned to where he had
+left Larry, and commenced to gather such brush as
+he could find which was dry or drying. It was no
+easy matter to discover wood dry enough to burn
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_163">[163]</span>at once; but the shelter under the cliff afforded a
+little, and with this he started a blaze, and soon
+had a roaring fire, upon one edge of which he
+erected a flat stone, which soon became hot enough
+to use for a rude pan for his fish.</p>
+
+<p>It was the welcome smell of something to eat
+which aroused Larry quite as much as anything
+else. He sat up, rubbed his eyes in astonishment,
+and leaped to his feet.</p>
+
+<p>“A fire, and a fish frying!” he cried. “That
+is a welcome sight to a fellow as hungry as I am!
+How did you catch him, Luke?”</p>
+
+<p>“It was pure luck, Larry,” answered the sailor,
+and told his story. “The fish will be done to a
+turn in a few minutes, and then we can eat our
+fill; and I’ll warrant you’ll find it fine eating, and
+not altogether because you’re so hungry, either.”</p>
+
+<p>“I could eat anything,” was the reply. And
+when they sat down in the shade,—for the sun
+was growing hot,—Larry declared he had never
+tasted anything better. The flesh of the coryphene
+was as sweet as a nut, and they ate and ate, until
+little more than the bones was left.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_164">[164]</span></p>
+
+  <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XVII">
+    CHAPTER XVII
+    <br>
+    <small>THE STORY OF A LONG TRAMP</small>
+  </h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>They had hung their jackets by the fire to dry,
+and by the time breakfast was finished—a breakfast
+that Larry declared was breakfast, dinner, supper,
+and lunch all rolled into one—the garments were
+ready to put on again. Their improvised hats were
+gone, but seaweed was plentiful along the beach,
+and soon they had fixed up a pair of rude head
+coverings which gave them ample protection from
+the tropical sun, even if they were far from handsome
+in appearance.</p>
+
+<p>“We ain’t travellin’ on looks, lad,” said Striker,
+when Larry poked fun at the bonnets, as he dubbed
+them. “I’d rather wear this contrivance than be
+sunstruck.”</p>
+
+<p>“Of course, Luke—I was only fooling. The
+question is, now we are ready to move, where are
+we to go to?”</p>
+
+<p>“I’ve thought that over, lad, and I don’t know
+as we can do better nor to climb up to the highest
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_165">[165]</span>top of this place and git our bearings, so to speak,
+same as we did at that other island we were on.”</p>
+
+<p>“And supposing we strike another snake?” and
+Larry could scarcely repress a shiver.</p>
+
+<p>“We’ll have to chance it. But I don’t believe we
+will. Come, we’ll cut ourselves a couple of good
+clubs, and then mount the cliff and the hill back of
+it. What I am worried about more than snakes is
+our chance of picking up the next meal. Fish ain’t
+layin’ around all over, ye see.”</p>
+
+<p>“Let us run along shore then and pick up what
+we can,” answered Larry, “or I can do so while you
+are cutting the clubs;” and so it was arranged.</p>
+
+<p>The beach was strewn with seaweed and shells,
+but, as Striker had intimated, fish were scarce, and
+Larry picked up but one small creature of an unknown
+variety, and not weighing over a pound and
+a half. It was full of spines which stuck his fingers
+until they bled, and he carried the fish back very
+gingerly.</p>
+
+<p>“Humph, not much, but better nor nuthin’,” was
+Striker’s comment. “I’ll wrap it in wet seaweed
+and sling it over my back. Here is your club, lad,
+and use it as best you can, if anything attacks you,
+be it snake, wild animal, or a blood-thirsty savage.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_166">[166]</span></p>
+
+<p>“Do you think this island inhabited?”</p>
+
+<p>“That depends a good deal on the size. If it’s
+large, yes; if it’s small, no.”</p>
+
+<p>“Is it one of the Philippines?”</p>
+
+<p>“I reckon it is; some small place directly to the
+north of Luzon. But come on; we want to make
+the most of the forenoon, because by eleven o’clock
+it will be too hot to travel.”</p>
+
+<p>In a moment more they were on the way, climbing
+the cliff and pushing up a gradual slope covered
+with rank tropical growth, steaming from the rain
+which had fallen upon it. For the greater part, the
+growth was of coarse grass, knee-high and more,
+but here and there were thick clumps of bushes,
+gorgeous with colored flowers and odd-looking berries,
+not a few of a poisonous nature. Still farther
+on was a heavy belt of stunted palms, with vines
+training in every direction, and here flitted, in surprise
+and terror at their appearance, wild pigeons,
+hornbills, as well as parrakeets, cockatoos, and other
+varieties of parrots.</p>
+
+<p>“My, but it’s hot!” murmured Larry, as they
+came to a rest under the palms. “And how everything
+does grow in these hot places!”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, it grows, but a good bit of it is mighty
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_167">[167]</span>coarse,” responded Striker. “Take that grass we’ve
+just come through, for instance. I don’t believe a
+horse or a cow would touch it any more than it
+would a lot of old chair canings.”</p>
+
+<p>“And just look at the bugs, and beetles, and ants,
+and lizards!” went on the boy, pointing to the
+ground and the rocks about them. “I don’t believe
+a fellow could pass a night here very comfortably.”</p>
+
+<p>“Not unless he slept in a tree, Larry—although
+I allow as it wouldn’t be no wuss nor some sailors’
+boarding-houses I have put up at,” and Striker
+laughed heartily. “Come.” And on they went
+again.</p>
+
+<p>Before the top of the hill was gained they had to
+pass over a rocky stretch of lava formation. Here
+Striker pointed out the different strata of the flow.</p>
+
+<p>“This island is of volcanic origin, as the parson
+would put it,” he said, “but I reckon the last eruption
+was a long while ago, judgin’ by the trees.
+Perhaps we’ll run across the volcano crater somewhere
+up there at the top.”</p>
+
+<p>The top of the hill was not as regular as that
+upon the other island visited, and in order to get a
+view of their surroundings they were compelled to
+climb a palm tree. From here they could get a fair
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_168">[168]</span>view of the ocean, and saw that the island was about
+three miles in diameter. The crater of the volcano
+lay just in front of them,—a ragged depression, its
+centre depths covered with thickly matted vines.</p>
+
+<p>“Looks like a big, round cake that went away up
+in the baking and then split just one side of the
+middle,” remarked Larry. “Do you suppose there
+is any bottom to that crater?”</p>
+
+<p>“To be sure, though there’s no telling how far
+down it is. I ain’t calkerlatin’ to investigate—not
+jest yet. Do you see anything of a hut or a
+village?”</p>
+
+<p>“Not a sign of any habitation.”</p>
+
+<p>“Neither do I.” The face of the sailor fell.
+“We might as well go round the crater and down
+behind it, and then, if we want to, we can walk
+along the shore.”</p>
+
+<p>The walk down the hill was easy, and they continued
+their progress even during the midday hour,
+although stopping numerous times to rest. They
+had almost gained the water’s edge again when
+Striker pulled Larry by the arm to attract his
+attention.</p>
+
+<p>“We’ll want something to eat soon, and I’m goin’
+to have something besides fish if I can get it.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_169">[169]</span>Yonder is a flock of wild pigeons. We might take
+a shy at them with our clubs. Come on, as quietly
+as you can, and when I whistle let drive.”</p>
+
+<p>They crept forward side by side, to the spot the
+Yankee tar had pointed out. When within fifty
+feet of the birds Striker uttered a low whistle, at
+the same time letting his club whiz through the
+air. Both sticks flew true to the mark, and a tremendous
+fluttering followed. One of the pigeons
+was knocked dead and three others injured. Of
+the three, two were readily caught; the third got
+away among the trees.</p>
+
+<p>“Three birds; not half so bad,” cried Striker.
+The prizes were slung on a string over Larry’s back,
+and on they went again.</p>
+
+<p>Evening found the pair down at the seashore.
+They had skirted one half of the island without seeing
+the first sign of a human being. They were
+utterly worn out, and were only too glad to take it
+easy, kindle a fire, and cook the fish and the pigeons.
+The latter proved of rather a rank flavor, judged by
+the flesh of those eaten at home, yet neither complained.</p>
+
+<p>“I’ll have to be careful of my matches,” observed
+Striker, as they proceeded to make themselves comfortable
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_170">[170]</span>for the night. “The six I have left won’t
+last forever. Let us see if we can’t keep the fire;”
+and he banked it up with some thick brushwood in
+such a fashion that it might burn slowly.</p>
+
+<p>The night was spent under the shelter of several
+dwarf palms which grew close to a rocky elevation
+overlooking the sea. All went well until nearly
+dawn, when Larry was suddenly awakened by the
+movement of something around him.</p>
+
+<p>“Hullo, Luke, what’s up?” he cried, when he
+caught sight of something between himself and the
+Yankee sailor. He made a savage kick, hitting
+some small animal in the side, and a shrill squeak
+followed. Striker was by this time awake, and both
+leaped to their feet.</p>
+
+<p>“A monkey, that’s all!” cried the tar. “Get out
+of here!” and he made a useless pass with his foot,
+for the monkey was already hopping off as fast as he
+was able. In the dim light they made out a score
+of the animals sitting around them in a circle. With
+a wild chatter the whole tribe rushed into the trees
+of the forest behind them and were lost to view,
+although their chatterings could be heard for a long
+while after.</p>
+
+<p>“They’ll come back sooner or later; their curiosity
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_171">[171]</span>won’t let them keep away,” said Striker, after
+the excitement was over. “Reckon he scared you a
+bit, didn’t he?”</p>
+
+<p>“He did,” answered Larry. “I wonder if there
+are any very dangerous animals round?” he continued
+anxiously.</p>
+
+<p>“It’s not likely, on an island of this size. But
+you’ll find plenty of wildcats in the Philippines,
+and wild boars and buffalo—a different sort from
+those in our Western States. And then there are
+civets, an animal something like a cat, that some of
+the natives domesticate, and the wild parts are full
+of jackals, so I’ve heard, though I never seen none
+of ’em.”</p>
+
+<p>What to do was the next question. They had
+explored the island as thoroughly as they cared to
+do it, with but scant satisfaction. Not a single
+trace of human beings had come to light. They
+looked at each other soberly.</p>
+
+<p>“We are Crusoes, Luke,” said Larry, soberly,
+“and I don’t like it.”</p>
+
+<p>“Neither do I like it, lad. But what can we
+do? If we had tools, I might go in for rigging up a
+boat, or a raft, and setting some sort of sail for
+Luzon, but one can’t do much with a jack-knife.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_172">[172]</span></p>
+
+<p>Larry heaved a long sigh. “If only we could
+climb the tallest tree on the island and hang up a
+flag of distress,” he ventured. “I’d hang up the
+very shirt I’m wearing if I thought it would do any
+good.”</p>
+
+<p>“So would I, lad, but it’s only one chance in a
+thousand that any one would come along to see it.
+Let us look at it in a business light, as shore folks
+call it. Here we are and likely to stay for a good
+bit. Let us fix us up a shelter and fill our larder, if
+we can, and talk of what’s best to do afterwards.”</p>
+
+<p>So it was arranged, and the next morning they set
+to work to build a hut in the best spot to be found.
+Of course they could cut down no trees, so they
+built the hut among a clump of five palms, making
+the sides and top of brushwood, bound together
+with strong vines which grew in profusion close at
+hand.</p>
+
+<p>The finishing up of this place was entrusted to
+Larry, while Striker went off a whole day to “fill up
+the larder,” as he had expressed it. The Yankee tar
+was very successful, having brought down several
+birds with his club and caught a dozen fish with a
+line made of a string he was fortunate enough to
+find in his pocket. For a hook for this line he had
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_173">[173]</span>used a sharp thorn tied, end up, to a tough twig,
+baiting the whole with a dazzling blue and yellow
+butterfly, butterflies being as numerous as were the
+ants and fireflies in the woods. In addition to this
+he had turned over one immense turtle he had found
+in the sun, not a tortoise-shell this time, but a more
+common looking creature which was, however, of
+good eating flavor.</p>
+
+<p>“The turtle I’ll put in a mud-hole somewhere,” he
+said. “And as long as we have him there will be
+no danger of our starving. I’d put some of the fish
+into another hole, only they are all dead. However,
+I’m sure we can get fish at any time.”</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_174">[174]</span></p>
+
+  <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XVIII">
+    CHAPTER XVIII
+    <br>
+    <small>THE ASIATIC SQUADRON TO THE RESCUE</small>
+  </h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>Two days had passed, and they had made themselves
+fairly comfortable on the island, when, on
+chancing to walk some distance up the shore in
+search of dry driftwood, Larry saw a sight that
+fairly made his heart stop beating.</p>
+
+<p>“Luke! Luke! come here, quick!” he cried,
+as soon as he could catch his breath. “Oh, what
+a find!”</p>
+
+<p>“What is it, Larry?” called back the Yankee
+sailor, and came running from the hut on the
+double-quick. “A boat, as sure as you’re born!
+Now ain’t we the lucky ones, though!”</p>
+
+<p>He was right; Larry had discovered a boat,—a
+heavy, cumbersome craft, such as old-time merchantmen
+were in the habit of carrying for trading
+purposes among the natives. <a href="#i_fp174">The boat lay on
+her side, half in and half out of the water</a>, and
+had evidently washed up on the beach the night
+before.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter" id="i_fp174">
+  <img src="images/i_fp174.jpg" alt="" title="">
+  <figcaption>
+    <p class="noic smcap"><a href="#Page_174">The Boat lay on her Side, half in and half out of the Water</a></p>
+  </figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_175">[175]</span></p>
+
+<p>“It’s a godsend to us, lad,” went on Striker.
+“Come, let us pull her high and dry, before the
+waves have a chance to send her adrift. Why,
+look, she’s got a small mast, and hang me if the
+sail ain’t set! I reckon if she could spin her yarn
+it would be an interesting one. More than likely
+the men who manned her went down in one of
+those hurricanes, although she looks as if she’s
+been water-logged this many a day.”</p>
+
+<p>It was no easy matter to pull the boat in, but
+the find had raised their spirits wonderfully, and
+they worked with a will, and once the <i>Treasure</i>,
+as Larry christened her, was clear of the waves,
+Striker took the extra precaution to tie her soaked
+painter to the nearest palm.</p>
+
+<p>“We can’t afford to lose her nohow,” he said.
+“See, the sail seems to be in good condition, so is
+the stumpy mast, and I don’t believe she leaks in
+the least. With a stock of eatables on board we
+can sail in her to Luzon without half trying.”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, but the eatables, Luke; how can we get
+them? Fish and birds won’t keep, and we’ll have
+to take some water along, and—”</p>
+
+<p>“You leave that to me, Larry. We know we
+can get all the fish and birds we want, and we can
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_176">[176]</span>salt ’em, and cook ’em, and perhaps we can take
+some of the fish along alive, by putting them in
+some water in the bottom of the boat. As for the
+other eatables, we’ll skirmish around the island for
+cocoanuts,—which will give us eating and drinking,—and
+I think I saw a banana tree yesterday, and
+some wild onions; while as for water, I saw some
+bamboo on the hill, which is big and hollow, and
+one piece will hold at least half a pint of water,
+and can easily be corked up.”</p>
+
+<p>Larry could not help but gaze in admiration at
+the fellow, whose head was so full of resources.
+“You’re a real Yankee, and no mistake, Luke,” he
+laughed. “I believe if nothing but a plank had
+drifted in, you would have had a boat out of it by
+sundown. All right; I’m with you, and the sooner
+we are ready to set sail, the better it will suit me;
+for even if we have the luck to reach Luzon, we’ll
+still have the job of getting to Manila or some
+other big town and finding a ship to take us to
+Hong Kong.”</p>
+
+<p>From that moment on work went forward briskly,
+and while Larry spent his time in fishing and in
+hunting turtles, Striker hunted up the cocoanuts
+and other eatables he had mentioned. Yet the
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_177">[177]</span>preparations for the trip took some time, and it
+was not until several days later that they were
+ready to embark.</p>
+
+<p>“Good-by to Lonely Island!” cried Larry, taking
+off the seaweed cap he still wore. “It served
+us well, yet I can’t say that I care to see its shores
+again.”</p>
+
+<p>“You’re right, lad; a Robinson Crusoe life is all
+well enough in books. Give me the deck of a
+stanch vessel, every time.”</p>
+
+<p>The <i>Treasure</i> was run out across the reefs without
+great difficulty, and as soon as the single sail
+was hoisted, Striker set the course as he thought
+due south, although in reality, as it afterwards
+proved, his course was to the southwest, just a
+variation sufficient for him to miss the northwest
+extremity of Luzon.</p>
+
+<p>Two days and a night were passed upon the
+somewhat clumsy craft without anything of special
+interest happening. The weather and wind
+remained fair, and the only thing which bothered
+them was the fierce sun, which beat down as pitilessly
+as ever. Striker had thoughtfully thrown
+into the boat a number of broad palm leaves, and
+during the middle of the day they were glad
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_178">[178]</span>enough to wet these and throw themselves under
+the shade to be had by setting the leaves up in the
+form of an inverted letter V—thus Λ—in the
+stern.</p>
+
+<p>As the sun went down upon the second day,
+Larry noticed Striker looking anxiously to the
+eastward. “Yes, I’m afraid we’re in for another
+storm,” said the Yankee, in reply to a question on
+that point. “How soon it will come there’s no
+telling. But it ain’t far off, and we’ll have to
+make the best of it.”</p>
+
+<p>The hurricane—for it was nothing less—came
+upon them at midnight, striking the <i>Treasure</i>
+heavily and sending her prow into a very torrent
+of water. A large amount of the water was shipped,
+and both fell to bailing vigorously, knowing their
+very lives depended upon it.</p>
+
+<p>The storm lasted until daybreak, then cleared
+off as rapidly as it had come. But, alas! that
+storm had been the unmaking of the <i>Treasure</i>.
+The sail with its half-rotted ropes was gone, the
+boat had sprung a bad if not dangerous leak, and
+more than half of the drinking-water and eatables
+were gone.</p>
+
+<p>“It’s a sorry pickle, truly, Larry,” said Striker,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_179">[179]</span>soberly, as he surveyed the mischief, “and I don’t
+know which is the wust,—the leak or the loss of
+the provender,—but both are bad enough.”</p>
+
+<p>“The loss of the sail is the worst, I imagine,”
+answered the boy. “How are we to keep sailing
+without a sheet?”</p>
+
+<p>“That’s true; we’ll have to see what we can do
+with our shirts. But first let us go to work on
+that leak,” concluded Striker, and they started in
+before either had a mouthful of breakfast.</p>
+
+<p>Quarter of an hour later found them thoroughly
+alarmed. The leak was growing worse. In vain
+they tried to mend it. The <i>Treasure</i> had been so
+strained by the storm she was scarcely able to hold
+together. Suddenly there was a cracking, and out
+went a plank of the bottom, and Larry found himself
+dropping down into the ocean. Then the
+clumsy craft turned over, carrying Striker with
+it.</p>
+
+<p>For several minutes there was a splutter and a
+struggle upon the part of man and boy to save
+themselves. At length Larry caught hold of the
+keel of the upturned boat and drew himself up.
+Soon Striker followed.</p>
+
+<p>“We’re in for it now, lad,” cried the Yankee,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_180">[180]</span>dolefully. “We made a bad miss when we left
+that island and trusted to such a rotten craft as this.”</p>
+
+<p>“I’d like to know how far we are from shore
+now,” said Larry. “All of our provisions have
+gone to the bottom.”</p>
+
+<p>“All but these,” answered the tar, holding up
+half a dozen of the bamboo stems filled with fresh
+water. “It’s not much to save, but a single drink
+of water may save our lives before we are done
+with this adventure.”</p>
+
+<p>There was but little to add in the way of talk
+after this. Both were too down-hearted to say
+much, and clung on in silence as the upturned boat
+drifted onward, and the rising sun mounted higher
+and higher in the tropical sky. Larry’s head was
+entirely unprotected, and by noon the sun’s rays
+seemed unbearable.</p>
+
+<p>“I must have a bit of water,” he said. “My
+tongue is like cotton, and my head feels as if it was
+ready to split open.”</p>
+
+<p>“We’ll divide the water in one of the sticks between
+us,” answered Striker; and this was done, and
+once again they relapsed into a moody, distressing
+silence. The glare of the sun on the water nearly
+blinded Larry, and often he closed his eyes.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_181">[181]</span></p>
+
+<p>It was getting towards sundown when Striker
+uttered a sudden shout.</p>
+
+<p>“A boat! a steamship!”</p>
+
+<p>“Where?” ejaculated Larry, rousing up. “I
+can’t see anything,” he went on, as Striker pointed
+with his finger. “I see a bit of smoke, though.”</p>
+
+<p>“She is well down in the water and painted dark.
+I can see her quite plainly.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, yes, I see her now. Do you think she is
+coming this way?” was the boy’s next anxious question;
+then, before Striker could answer, he continued:
+“There is another steamer, over to the left!
+And there is another—or am I dreaming?”</p>
+
+<p>He pointed this way and that, and the Yankee
+sailor followed the indications eagerly.</p>
+
+<p>“There ain’t no mistake, Larry, they’re all there;
+and see, there’s another bit of smoke off to the
+north’ard. We must be right in the track o’ some
+reg’lar line, though what line I can’t imagine, nor
+why so many of the steamships should be out here
+at one time,” added Striker, in much perplexity.</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t care about that, if only one of them will
+come this way and pick us up.”</p>
+
+<p>“They are coming this way—as straight as a
+string,” cried Striker, after five minutes of painful
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_182">[182]</span>suspense. “I can see all four of the vessels as plain
+as day, and—yes, there’s another! What in the
+world can this mean? Larry, if I was a drinking
+man, I would say I had ’em bad,” concluded the
+Yankee sailor, as he raised himself up as high as
+possible, his eyes meanwhile almost starting from
+his head.</p>
+
+<p>Another five minutes passed, and the vessels came
+closer, until they could readily see the black smoke
+pouring from their funnels. The five vessels were
+sweeping along in almost a semicircle, and now
+Striker declared he could see more smoke to the
+rear.</p>
+
+<p>“If only they see us!” cried Larry, in almost
+a pleading tone. “Can’t we wave something?
+I’ll try my jacket.” And he slipped the garment
+off, and proceeded to bestride the keel of the upturned
+<i>Treasure</i>. In a moment more Striker was
+beside him, and both waved their hands like demons.</p>
+
+<p>Boom! loud and clear over the sea sounded the
+dull discharge of a ship’s gun, and they saw the
+smoke float away from the nearest of the oncoming
+vessels.</p>
+
+<p>“It’s a man-o’-war, that’s what it is!” burst from
+Striker’s lips. “And it’s a whole fleet of ’em!”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_183">[183]</span></p>
+
+<p>“Yes! yes! and we are saved!” cried Larry,
+hysterically. “That gun was surely meant for us.”
+They watched on for a few more minutes in silence.
+“<a href="#i_frontispiece">Oh, Luke! see the stars and stripes!</a> They are
+United States vessels, every one of them!”</p>
+
+<p>“You’re right, lad; they are our own Yankee
+ships, and we have fallen among friends. See, that
+big fellow is heading directly for us and intends to
+pick us up. This must be Commodore Dewey’s
+Asiatic Squadron. Hurrah for Uncle Sam! Hurrah!”
+And Striker cheered so lustily that the
+men on the approaching cruiser heard him quite
+plainly.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_184">[184]</span></p>
+
+  <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XIX">
+    CHAPTER XIX
+    <br>
+    <small>THE MISSION OF THE SQUADRON</small>
+  </h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>Striker was right; the war vessels approaching
+were the Asiatic Squadron of the United States
+Navy, and while the vessels are drawing closer to
+Larry and the Yankee tar, we will take a brief
+look at the noble craft which were so soon to engage
+in a battle to become world famous in history.</p>
+
+<p>The fighting ships were seven in number, consisting
+of four cruisers, the <i>Olympia</i>, <i>Baltimore</i>, <i>Boston</i>,
+and <i>Raleigh</i>, and three gunboats, the <i>Concord</i>, <i>Petrel</i>,
+and <i>McCulloch</i>. Added to these were two large
+vessels, the <i>Nanshan</i> and the <i>Zafiro</i>, carrying between
+them 10,000 tons of coal for the fleet’s
+use.</p>
+
+<p>The largest of the ships was the <i>Olympia</i>, which
+was also the flagship. She was a fine specimen of
+the protected cruiser, of 5800 tons, and carrying
+twenty-eight guns of good size. Her commander
+was Captain C. V. Gridley, and her executive officer
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_185">[185]</span>Lieutenant C. P. Rees. It may be worth remembering
+that the <i>Olympia</i> was the only ship which
+was protected by armor, and that armor was merely
+a band of four-inch steel around her turret guns—quite
+in contrast to numerous other armored vessels
+that carry steel plates about them from twelve to
+twenty inches thick.</p>
+
+<p>Next in size to the flagship came the cruiser <i>Baltimore</i>,
+of 4400 tons, and carrying fourteen guns.
+She was commanded by Captain M. N. Dyer, with
+Lieutenant-Commander J. B. Biggs as executive
+officer.</p>
+
+<p>The third on the list of cruisers was the long and
+low-lying <i>Boston</i>, of 3000 tons, and ready to fight
+with ten splendid guns. Captain Frank Wildes was
+her commander, and Lieutenant J. A. Norris her
+executive officer.</p>
+
+<p>The quartette of cruisers came to an end with the
+<i>Raleigh</i>, of about the same tonnage as the <i>Boston</i>,
+and mounting eleven guns, only one of large size.
+The <i>Raleigh</i> had just come all the way from New
+York to join the squadron, and was commanded by
+Captain J. B. Coughlan, with Lieutenant Frederic
+Singer as executive officer.</p>
+
+<p>Of the gunboats, the <i>Concord</i> took the lead. She
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_186">[186]</span>was a stanch three-master of 1700 tons, carrying
+eight guns and rifles, and was commanded by Captain
+Asa Walker.</p>
+
+<p>Next to the <i>Concord</i> came the tiny but sprightly
+<i>Petrel</i>, of only 900 tons, and carrying but four
+guns. Her commander was Captain E. P. Wood.
+The <i>Petrel</i> looked almost too small to take part in a
+great battle, yet later on we will see her giving the
+best possible account of herself.</p>
+
+<p>The last on the list of the fleet was the gunboat
+<i>McCulloch</i>, which was not, strictly speaking, a fighting
+craft, but a revenue cutter, used for carrying
+despatches from one boat to another and to shore.
+The <i>McCulloch</i> carried four light pieces, principally
+for defence, and was commanded by Captain Hobson,
+of the Revenue Marine Service.</p>
+
+<p>And now what had brought this squadron out in
+the middle of the South China Sea, to the great
+wonder and astonishment—not to say thankfulness—of
+Larry and his down-east friend? In order to
+answer that question we shall have to take a dip
+into history—a brief dip, and one that I trust will
+not tire even such of my boy readers as desire a
+story to move along “lively like.”</p>
+
+<p>We have already learned how the battleship
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_187">[187]</span><i>Maine</i> was blown up in the harbor of Havana,
+Cuba, and also something of the condition of affairs
+in that ill-fated isle at that time: how the Spanish
+authorities had tried in vain for three years to put
+down the rebellion which was raging in every quarter,
+and how many American citizens were suffering
+because of this conflict. American capital amounting
+to millions of dollars was invested in Cuba, and
+this was rapidly being lost through the confiscation
+and destruction of property.</p>
+
+<p>Yet the American nation could stand the loss of
+property without waging war, hopeful that in the
+end Spain would make matters right. What worried
+the people was the cruelty practised by the
+Spanish authorities against the insurgents, and
+when in the halls of Congress it was openly declared
+that through Spanish misrule tens of thousands
+of Cuban men, women, and children were
+actually starving to death, the people everywhere
+cried out that this must stop, and if no other civilized
+nation would take a hand, the United States
+must step in alone and do the work.</p>
+
+<p>The climax of resentment against Spain came
+when the <i>Maine</i> went down carrying two hundred
+and fifty-three of our gallant officers and
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_188">[188]</span>sailors with her. The harbor of Havana was still
+supposed to be a friendly one, yet the vessel had
+gone to her total destruction there, although Spain
+denied that she was in any way to blame. I may as
+well add here that the <i>Maine</i> and her equipment
+cost the nation four millions of dollars.</p>
+
+<p>The cry for war against Spain came from every
+quarter, yet the wiser heads said that we must go
+slowly, must be perfectly sure of what we were doing,
+so that other nations might have no cause to
+find fault with us when the opening blow was
+struck. A court of inquiry was organized to learn
+the absolute truth concerning the <i>Maine</i>, and at the
+same time Congress took up the question of assisting
+the Cubans by sending them relief ships loaded with
+food and clothing.</p>
+
+<p>While Larry was sailing the dreary wastes of the
+mighty Pacific, the climax was reached. The court
+of inquiry found that the <i>Maine</i> had been blown up
+from the outside, probably by some sunken mine,
+fired by electricity. As the battleship had been
+given her place in the harbor by the Spanish harbor-master,
+the fact was evident that this official had
+placed her directly over the mine in question; so
+that Spain was responsible for the loss of our ship
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_189">[189]</span>and our sailors, no matter if the mine had been fired
+without direct orders from headquarters.</p>
+
+<p>The way was now clear for what was to follow.
+Directly after the findings of the court of inquiry
+had been made public, President McKinley sent an
+address to Congress citing the condition of affairs in
+Cuba, adding that Spain had lost control, and that
+not even the ships of a friendly nation were safe
+in her harbors, and recommending that immediate
+action be taken.</p>
+
+<p>Action was taken by our Congress declaring that
+the people of Cuba were, and of a right ought to be,
+free and independent, and Spain was given a certain
+length of time in which to withdraw all her military
+and other forces from the island. At the same
+time it was avowed that the United States had no
+thought of taking Cuba for her own, but that she
+would protect the Cubans until they were capable of
+doing for themselves. Spain was given a set time
+in which to answer our ultimatum, as it was called,
+but instead of sending an answer she gave to our
+minister his passport, a virtual order to leave her
+domains, and this was equivalent to a declaration of
+war.</p>
+
+<p>In the mean time, in anticipation of a conflict, the
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_190">[190]</span>navy had been active, adding a number of vessels to
+the list, and getting everything in readiness for a
+struggle, which people felt must take place largely
+upon the water. On April 21, when negotiations
+were broken off, the first of our fleets sailed for Cuba,
+and Havana was blockaded, the first aggressive movement
+of the war. Following this came the President’s
+call for 125,000 men to serve as volunteers in the
+United States Army, and later still, another call for
+75,000 additional soldiers. All became bustle and
+excitement at once, and from every city, town, and
+village the brave soldier lads marched away, to
+gather at their respective State camps until mustered
+into the regular service of Uncle Sam.</p>
+
+<p>When the news of the destruction of the <i>Maine</i>
+was flashed around the world by cable and telegraph,
+Commodore George Dewey, commanding the Asiatic
+Squadron, felt that war was close at hand, and to
+be prepared for whatever might come he began to
+gather around him in the bay of Hong Kong all his
+available vessels, and have them put in proper fighting
+trim. The men under him numbered not quite
+1700, all brave and hardy to the core, as representative
+a lot of fighting seamen as could be found anywhere,
+as later events proved.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_191">[191]</span></p>
+
+<p>Immediately after the war broke out the squadron
+was asked to leave Hong Kong, that being a neutral
+port, and took its way to Mirs Bay, some thirty miles
+away. At this place word was received by the commodore
+that he must find a Spanish fleet which was
+located somewhere in the Philippines and engage it.
+This meant a big battle, providing the Spanish ships
+could be found, not an easy task when it is considered
+that the islands number over a thousand, and that
+sheltered harbors are even more numerous. To find
+the fleet, and to be fully prepared to give it battle
+wherever and whenever found, was a task requiring
+a large amount of sagacity and wisdom.</p>
+
+<p>The ships left Mirs Bay on the afternoon of
+Wednesday, the 27th day of April, the <i>Olympia</i>
+leading the van, with Commodore Dewey and Captain
+Gridley upon the bridge, the former viewing
+with a pleased eye his small but solid-looking squadron,
+every vessel of which shone forth stern and
+threatening in her war-paint of dark color.</p>
+
+<p>“They ought to win out in a battle, captain,” remarked
+the commodore, quietly. He was not a man
+of many words.</p>
+
+<p>“They will win out, commodore,” answered the
+captain of the <i>Olympia</i>, emphatically, “if only we
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_192">[192]</span>can catch sight of Admiral Montojo and his ships.
+It’s my opinion the Spaniards will keep out of sight if
+it’s possible for them to do so. Montojo will live in
+hope that matters will be squared up at home before
+we have a chance to smash him.”</p>
+
+<p>“Don’t be too sure of it, Gridley; Montojo is as
+honest a fighter as the Spanish navy possesses. If
+we do come to an engagement, make up your mind
+that he will fight to the last deck.”</p>
+
+<p>The destination of the fleet was the island of Luzon,
+that being the most important of the Spanish holdings
+in the Philippines. It was the commodore’s
+determination to search all the bays and harbors of
+this island first, and if the Spanish warships were not
+found, to then proceed to the next territory.</p>
+
+<p>Once out into the China Sea, the squadron proceeded
+slowly; for while the larger ships could breast
+the waves with impunity, the tiny <i>Petrel</i> was nearly
+engulfed, and the two coal-boats labored along under
+a strain that was actually perilous.</p>
+
+<p>Ever since the ships had been called together, gun
+and other drills had kept the men in perfect condition,
+but now, on the first night out, the commodore resolved
+to put his command to another test. The majority
+of the hands had retired for the night when the flagship
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_193">[193]</span>signalled forth the command, “Prepare for
+action!”</p>
+
+<p>What a hurry and bustle ensued! Men came
+rolling from their hammocks and ran, but partly
+dressed, to their stations, bugles sounded over the
+waters, there came the rattle of chains and the
+rumble of heavy machinery, and in two minutes
+could be seen the dancing red and white light
+signals from this and that boat: “We are ready for
+action.”</p>
+
+<p>“That is as it should be,” said the commodore.
+He was greatly pleased, and felt more confident than
+ever of the men under him.</p>
+
+<p>It was on the day following that the lookout in the
+foretop announced a strange object in sight.</p>
+
+<p>“It looks like an upturned boat with two men
+clinging to it,” he called down to the officer of the
+deck. “It’s almost dead ahead.”</p>
+
+<p>Powerful glasses were turned upon the object, and
+Larry and Striker were made out long before they
+themselves knew that they were seen.</p>
+
+<p>As the <i>Olympia</i> was steaming for the unfortunates
+there was no need to give directions to change her
+course. When it was seen that they were waving
+frantically with their hands and with a jacket, the
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_194">[194]</span>commodore turned to the captain and ordered that
+a small gun be fired, “Just to let the poor chaps
+know we intend to pick them up,” he said.</p>
+
+<p>And that is how Larry Russell chanced to fall in
+with the Asiatic Squadron of the United States Navy,
+just previous to the wonderful engagement of which
+I am about to relate.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_195">[195]</span></p>
+
+  <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XX">
+    CHAPTER XX
+    <br>
+    <small>ON BOARD THE FLAGSHIP “OLYMPIA”</small>
+  </h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>It was not long before the great engines of the
+<i>Olympia</i> came to a stop, the flagship slowed up,
+and from the starboard side a small boat was lowered,
+manned by a petty officer and a dozen bronzed
+jackies, as man-o’-war men are familiarly termed.
+The oars were straight up in the air, but at the word
+of command they fell into the ocean’s brine, and
+the boat set off for the unfortunates.</p>
+
+<p>“Boat ahoy!” shouted Striker, feebly, for previous
+cries had exhausted his wind. “You jest about
+come in the nick o’ time. We was thinkin’ very
+seriously o’ engagin’ rooms in Davy Jones’ locker
+afore ye hove in sight.”</p>
+
+<p>A smile went the rounds of the sailors, but not a
+word was said, as it would have been against the rule.
+“Steady, men! a stroke more,” commanded the
+petty officer, and the small boat slowed up and
+sheered alongside of the upturned <i>Treasure</i>. “Are
+you two able to climb in?” he went on.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_196">[196]</span></p>
+
+<p>“I reckon I am,” answered the Yankee sailor.
+“Larry, how is it?”</p>
+
+<p>For answer the youth slid from the keel of the
+<i>Treasure</i>, and grasped the gunwale of the <i>Olympia’s</i>
+small boat. Willing hands helped him on board,
+and Striker followed.</p>
+
+<p>“You have done us a great service,” murmured
+Larry. “I was afraid we were gone.”</p>
+
+<p>“You look played out,” smiled the officer detailed
+to bring the pair in. “How did you chance to be
+wrecked?”</p>
+
+<p>“It’s a long story, sir. We were on board of the
+<i>Columbia</i>, a three-master bound from Honolulu to
+Hong Kong, and went overboard during a storm.
+We struck an island first and found that boat, and
+then set out to make Luzon—”</p>
+
+<p>“And the plagued craft went to pieces on us,”
+finished up Striker. “Am I right? is that the Asiatic
+Squadron under Commodore Dewey?”</p>
+
+<p>“It is.”</p>
+
+<p>“Then I reckon as two Americans, born and bred,
+we’ve fallen into jest about the right hands. It was
+a welcome sight to see the glorious stars and stripes,
+I can tell you that, sir. When I made you out to
+be warships, I was afraid we had run next to a lot of
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_197">[197]</span>Chinese or Japanese craft. I ain’t got no use for
+thet sort o’ critter, sir.”</p>
+
+<p>“You might have done worse, man, than to fall in
+with the Chinese or Japanese,” laughed the petty
+officer, after he had given the necessary orders to
+take the small boat back to the warship. “Supposing
+you had fallen in with Admiral Montojo’s fleet?”</p>
+
+<p>“Montojo? Who is he?”</p>
+
+<p>“The Spanish admiral, in command of their men-o’-war
+in these waters.”</p>
+
+<p>Both Striker and Larry looked puzzled for a
+moment, then a quick flash lit up the boy’s dark eyes.</p>
+
+<p>“Has war been declared between the United
+States and Spain, sir?” he ejaculated.</p>
+
+<p>“It has.”</p>
+
+<p>“By the jumpin’ Christopher, ye don’t tell me!”
+roared Striker, his mouth open in amazement. “Real,
+genuine, live war?”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, we calculate to make it real, genuine, live
+war, if we can find Montojo’s fleet,” laughed the
+officer, much amused by the tall Yankee’s manner.</p>
+
+<p>“And are ye on his trail?”</p>
+
+<p>“I presume that is what you would call it, my
+man. And I don’t know but that you’ll have to go
+with us, under the circumstances,” went on the officer.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_198">[198]</span></p>
+
+<p>There was no time to say more, for the small boat
+was now once more beside the flagship. The craft
+was attached to the davit-ropes and swung up and in,
+and a moment later Larry and Striker stood upon
+the main deck, confronted by Commodore Dewey
+and Captain Gridley. Finding themselves in the
+presence of the two commanders, Striker immediately
+saluted in true naval style, and Larry followed
+suit, not a little awed by finding himself confronted
+by so much marine pomp, for the commodore believed
+in thoroughness in naval appearance as well as in
+efficacy. On looking at the Yankee, the commodore’s
+face showed a slight trace of surprise.</p>
+
+<p>“Hullo, my man! I think I’ve seen you before,”
+he said.</p>
+
+<p>“That you have, commodore,” replied the Yankee
+tar, much pleased at even a partial recognition.
+“I was sayin’ to myself, in coming over in the gig,
+that if this was Commodore Dewey’s squadron, an’
+the commodore himself was with the fleet, he wouldn’t
+forget Luke Striker, as served under him on board
+of the <i>Pensacola</i>, in European waters, about twelve
+years ago. I was gunner’s mate at that time,
+and when coal bunker No. 3 took fire—” Striker
+paused.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_199">[199]</span></p>
+
+<p>“Yes, yes, I remember you now, Striker. You
+took the place of the hoseman who was off duty, and
+crawled into the bunker at the risk of your life. I
+haven’t forgotten that brave deed, and I’m glad, at
+this late day, to do you a service,” and the commodore
+took the tar’s hand and shook it heartily. “So
+you’ve been wrecked, and this lad with you? You
+both look worn, and those wet clothes are not as
+comfortable as dry ones will be.” The commodore
+turned to Captain Gridley: “Captain, will you have
+them taken care of? and then I’ll talk to them in my
+cabin. We will resume our course,” and the commodore
+turned away.</p>
+
+<p>In a minute more Larry and Striker had been
+turned over to a sergeant of marines, who took them
+below to the clothing lockers, and managed to fit them
+out in the uniforms of ordinary seamen. While this
+was going on, word was passed to the big galley, and
+by the time the pair were ready for it a steaming
+dinner awaited them in the mess-room. It is doubtless
+unnecessary to say that to the repast thus
+afforded, the boy and his down-east friend did ample
+justice. Indeed, Striker declared that never had
+victuals tasted better, and ate so much of the rice
+pudding and drank such a quantity of the black
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_200">[200]</span>coffee that he found it necessary to let out one catch
+in the belt about his waist.</p>
+
+<p>The officer of marines detailed to look after them
+was a whole-souled fellow, and as they ate, he readily
+gave them all the information at his command
+respecting the cruiser and her destination. Both
+Larry and Striker listened with keen interest.</p>
+
+<p>“You see,” went on the sergeant, in the course of
+his talk, “we are really going to do more than
+smash the Spanish fleet, or take a try at it. Spain
+owns the Philippines, and as she has chosen to go to
+war, why, it’s no more than right that we should
+endeavor to capture the islands.”</p>
+
+<p>“But will that be fair?” questioned Larry. “I
+thought the trouble was all on account of Cuba.”</p>
+
+<p>“So it is; but in war one side lays hands on everything
+it can find belonging to the other,” laughed the
+sergeant, who rejoiced in the peculiar name of Joe
+Joster. “If we can do the trick, we’ll bottle up that
+Spanish fleet first, then capture the Philippines, and
+then go for the Caroline Islands.”</p>
+
+<p>“Bottling up that fleet may not be sech an easy
+task,” observed Striker, helping himself to another
+bowl of coffee, the fourth. “How many ships do ye
+calculate this here Admiral What’s-his-name has?”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_201">[201]</span></p>
+
+<p>“Montojo has not less than eight or ten.”</p>
+
+<p>“And we have how many?”</p>
+
+<p>“Seven, all told.”</p>
+
+<p>Striker shook his head. “That don’t figure right—exceptin’
+our ships outclass ’em. Everything else
+being ekel, it stands to reason the side with the most
+ships has got the best show. Ain’t that accordin’ to
+’rithmetic, Larry?”</p>
+
+<p>“I suppose it is, Luke; but then our brave American
+tars—”</p>
+
+<p>“Will do the trick,” finished Sergeant Joster.
+“That is what we are playing on. Roughly estimated,
+I think the two fleets carry about the same
+number of guns and the same number of men,
+although some think the Dons have more men than
+we have. But if we Americans keep up our reputation,
+we have nothing to fear, though, of course,
+the scrap won’t be exactly a picnic.”</p>
+
+<p>“That officer in the small boat said we might have
+to remain on board of the <i>Olympia</i>,” said Larry.
+“If that is so, we are bound to take part in whatever
+occurs, whether we want to or not.”</p>
+
+<p>“I should think any American lad would be glad
+to take part,” rejoined the sergeant, quickly. “If we
+defeat that fleet, it will be a great glory to us, and
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_202">[202]</span>if we don’t—well, a man can die but once, you
+know.”</p>
+
+<p>“I am willing enough to stay,” answered the boy.
+“But I should like to know what has become of the
+<i>Columbia</i>,” he added soberly, as he thought of the
+sturdy schooner staggering under the hurricane and
+struck by lightning, with Captain Ponsberry, Grandon,
+Mr. Wells, and his other friends aboard.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, lad, I’d like to know that myself,” put in
+Striker. “And I should like to meet that furiner
+again. It’s a pity he ain’t a Spaniard, and on board
+one of them ships we’re after.”</p>
+
+<p>Sergeant Joster was curious to hear their story,
+and as they had been treated so well by the marine,
+they did not hesitate to tell him.</p>
+
+<p>“You are lucky dogs to escape being drowned,” he
+said, when they had concluded. “Ninety-nine men
+out of a hundred would have gone down. That Olan
+Oleson ought to be strung up on a yard-arm, and he
+would be on most vessels. In the navy a man would
+be shot for a good deal less than he’s done.”</p>
+
+<p>“The <i>Columbia</i> is going to remain in Hong Kong
+for several weeks—that is, if she got there at all,”
+said Larry. “Perhaps the fleet will go back before
+that time.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_203">[203]</span></p>
+
+<p>“There is no telling where we are to go to, lad.
+The Spaniards may lead us a long chase, and the
+commodore is not one to give up until he has accomplished
+his mission.”</p>
+
+<p>“You are right there,” said Striker, nodding vigorously,
+as he swallowed his last mouthful of pudding.
+“I knowed him as a captain before he came
+out here, and he is just the commander for the work
+they cut out for him in these parts.” He turned
+to Larry. “How is it—full?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, and waiting for you.”</p>
+
+<p>“Then we won’t keep the commodore waitin’—’tain’t
+manners nohow. Jest show the way, sergeant,
+and we’ll be on your heels.”</p>
+
+<p>In a few minutes more they were at the after-cabin
+of the <i>Olympia</i>. Here they had to wait a
+quarter of an hour, for Commodore Dewey was in
+consultation with several other officers. At length
+the officers took their departure, and they were told
+to go in.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_204">[204]</span></p>
+
+  <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXI">
+    CHAPTER XXI
+    <br>
+    <small>SOMETHING ABOUT COMMODORE DEWEY</small>
+  </h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>Larry found Commodore Dewey a well-built
+and well-preserved man of sixty, with black, piercing
+eyes, and hair and mustache which had once been
+dark but which were now tinged with gray. The
+face was a stern but kind one, and the boy had not
+been in the commander’s presence more than a few
+minutes before he felt at home in spite of the difference
+in their respective positions.</p>
+
+<p>As the commodore, afterwards admiral, is to play
+such an important part in the future course of
+our story, it will not be amiss to ascertain a few
+facts concerning his past career,—a career full
+of dash, fire, “I will,” and patriotism.</p>
+
+<p>The future commander of the seas was born in
+the town of Montpelier, Vermont, on December 26,
+1837. He was the son of Doctor Julius Dewey,
+a man who fought his own way into the world, first
+by teaching school to earn enough to take a course
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_205">[205]</span>in medicine, and then by earnest efforts to help
+not only himself but those around him. The
+doctor was the founder of the Christ Episcopal
+Church of Montpelier, and a man of deep religious
+convictions.</p>
+
+<p>When George Dewey was but five years old he
+lost his mother, as tender and true a parent as ever
+boy had, and henceforth his companions of the
+household were his sister Mary, two years his
+junior, and his father. He lived in a modest cottage
+on a side street, and the Onion River swept
+through the fields in the back. It is on record that
+George Dewey, barefooted and ofttimes hatless,
+loved to play in and around that stream, and who
+knows but that there his first naval battles were
+fought, with rude wooden boats of his own jack-knife
+designing?</p>
+
+<p>When the proper time came the boy was sent
+to the village school, a bare enough place, with stiff
+wooden benches and rough desks, upon more than
+one of which he surreptitiously carved the initials
+G. D., and received for this what was considered, in
+those days of the ever-present birch rod, his just
+reward.</p>
+
+<p>Whether it be a good or bad trait, it is said that
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_206">[206]</span>the schoolboy was of rather a quick temper, and
+if anything went wrong he was for settling the
+dispute with his fists, and it is further related that
+he was generally victorious in his battles. Thus
+was the man’s natural fighting nature shown from
+the start, but lest some of my young readers take
+this as a justification to “pitch in” at the slightest
+provocation, let me add that George Dewey was
+never known to fight unless he was positive in his
+own mind that he was in the right.</p>
+
+<p>From his home school, the lad was sent, at the
+age of fifteen, to a Military Academy at Norwich,
+in his native State. Here he was for the first time
+brought into contact with things military, and he
+had not been at the Academy long before he wrote
+home that he should like to go to either West Point
+or Annapolis, with a preference for Annapolis.
+This communication caused his father much worry,
+for the doctor had hoped that the boy would take
+up the study of either medicine, the law, or the
+ministry. But the parent believed in letting his son
+choose his own future, and so he consented to
+George’s wishes.</p>
+
+<p>To get into either West Point or Annapolis is,
+as most boys must know, no easy matter, appointments
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_207">[207]</span>being made either by United States senators
+or by the President. For a long while the lad
+tried in vain, but at last he was chosen as alternate
+to another boy. The other boy, when the time came,
+failed to appear for examination, and George Dewey
+was duly appointed.</p>
+
+<p>At the Naval Academy it was found that the boy
+made a bright student, but that he had brought his
+old-time quickness of temper with him. There was
+a line drawn between the boys from the South and
+those from the North, and George was singled out
+as a butt for the Southern boys’ jokes. It can be
+imagined that he stood this only for a short while.
+The battles that followed were short, sharp, and
+decisive, and after that the newcomer was left
+alone, although before the class graduated many
+of those who had been his enemies became Dewey’s
+warmest friends.</p>
+
+<p>The graduation at the Naval Academy was a trying
+affair, how trying my young readers will understand
+when I state that only fourteen out of a class
+of over sixty received their diplomas. Of those
+who passed George Dewey stood fifth—showing
+that he could do something else besides taking his
+own part.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_208">[208]</span></p>
+
+<p>As a midshipman the young man was assigned
+to the <i>Wabash</i>, and spent two years cruising in the
+Mediterranean, visiting at the same time many
+places of interest, including the Holy Land. He
+returned to Annapolis, to receive his final examination,
+in which he won third place, and then returned
+to his native home.</p>
+
+<p>When Dewey was twenty-three years old the
+great Civil War broke out, and he was assigned a
+lieutenancy on board of the steam sloop <i>Mississippi</i>,
+of the West Gulf Squadron, a noble fleet of vessels
+commanded by Admiral Farragut. The first work
+of the fleet was to attempt to reach New Orleans
+by running past the formidable batteries near the
+entrance to the Mississippi River, and then by
+engaging the fleet beyond. This was a tremendous
+task, and for seven days our young lieutenant was
+subjected to the hottest kind of fire, which, as it was
+afterwards stated, he endured like a veteran. He
+himself is reported to have told a fellow-officer that
+he never enjoyed anything so much in his life. It
+was during this engagement that, as executive
+officer, he gave the quick commands which enabled
+the <i>Mississippi</i> to fire a broadside into the ram
+<i>Manassas</i> and sink her. A year later found
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_209">[209]</span>Dewey again on the great river, and this time his
+craft ran aground directly in front of the Port
+Hudson battery and had to be abandoned. The
+task of getting the sailors off in safety under a
+galling fire was a perilous one, but the brave lieutenant
+commander remained aboard until no one
+but his captain and himself were left.</p>
+
+<p>After the loss of the <i>Mississippi</i>, the future
+admiral was assigned to one of Farragut’s gunboats,
+and fought at Donaldsonville, and from
+there he took part in the bombardment of Fort
+Fisher, acting as lieutenant on the <i>Colorado</i>, and
+it was here that he aided so vigorously in a rush
+in shore to silence a part of the enemy’s works that
+he gained a special mention for bravery.</p>
+
+<p>It was in 1870 that he received his first command
+as captain of the <i>Narragansett</i>. He was now
+a married man, having one son; and two years later
+the one great cloud of his life came, in the loss of
+his beloved wife. From the <i>Narragansett</i> the
+captain was transferred to serve on the United
+States Lighthouse Board, an exacting office which
+he filled to the satisfaction of all. From here he
+went to the Asiatic Squadron, and received full
+command of the <i>Dolphin</i>, one of the first vessels
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_210">[210]</span>belonging to what has since been known as the
+famous White Squadron, because during the times
+of peace these great ships are all painted pure white.
+When war is declared, every warship is painted some
+dark color, usually a brown-green or gray or black.</p>
+
+<p>Leaving the <i>Dolphin</i>, the energetic captain next
+took charge of the <i>Pensacola</i>, the flagship of the
+European Squadron, and it was on this vessel that
+Striker served under him. Never was a captain
+more beloved by his men than was Dewey, although
+he was strict and made every one under him “toe
+the mark.” One thing he could not abide, and that
+was sullenness. An anecdote which is vouched
+for will not come amiss, to show the character of
+the commander as well as to illustrate the strictness
+of discipline on board of a man-o’-war.</p>
+
+<p>While in command of the <i>Dolphin</i>, the lieutenant
+came to Dewey and told him that there was a paymaster’s
+assistant on board who had refused to obey
+a certain order given to him, his reason being that it
+was outside of his line of duty. The black eyes
+of the commander snapped fire.</p>
+
+<p>“Where is he?” he asked.</p>
+
+<p>“On the main-deck, sir.”</p>
+
+<p>“Have you tried argument with him?”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_211">[211]</span></p>
+
+<p>“I have, sir, for ten minutes.”</p>
+
+<p>The commander said no more, but stalked to the
+quarter mentioned, where he found the man sulking
+against the mast. Going up quietly, he caught the
+fellow by the shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>“You have refused to obey such-and-such an
+order,” he said, mentioning the order in question.</p>
+
+<p>“It ain’t in my line of duty,” grumbled the paymaster’s
+assistant.</p>
+
+<p>Again the eyes of the commander flashed fire,
+but he kept his temper. “I have been in the navy
+for twenty-six years, and have made naval affairs
+the study of my life. I tell you that it is the duty
+of every man to obey the orders of his superior
+officers. Do you intend to obey?”</p>
+
+<p>The eyes of the man dropped, and he shifted his
+feet uneasily. “It ain’t in the line of my duty—I
+didn’t enlist for it,” he muttered doggedly.</p>
+
+<p>Without waiting a moment, Captain Dewey
+turned to the corporal standing by.</p>
+
+<p>“Call the guard,” he said briefly. “Order them
+to load with ball.”</p>
+
+<p>The necessary orders were given, there was a
+scurry of feet and a clicking of rifles, and a line of
+marines were drawn up on one side of the deck,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_212">[212]</span>while the man who would not obey orders was
+marched to the other.</p>
+
+<p>“In refusing to obey orders you are guilty of
+mutiny,” said the commander, sternly. “The
+penalty of mutiny on the high seas is death. If
+that order is not obeyed inside of five minutes, I
+will order the marines to fire upon you.”</p>
+
+<p>The man turned white and began to tremble.
+Dewey calmly took out his watch and counted off
+the minutes, “One—two—three—four—”</p>
+
+<p>“Stop—don’t shoot—I’ll obey!” cried the sullen
+one, and rushed off to do as bidden. It took
+him a week to get over his fright, but in the end
+there was no better hand on board of that ship,
+nor one that thought any more of the “old man,”
+as a commander is familiarly termed.</p>
+
+<p>After a term upon the <i>Dolphin</i>, Dewey returned
+to the Lighthouse Board and was connected with
+the Pacific Coast Survey. It was at this time that
+he was promoted to be a commodore. On the first
+of the year which was to see the breaking out of
+our war with Spain, the commodore was assigned
+once more to the Asiatic Squadron, and he made,
+as my readers already know, the <i>Olympia</i> his
+flagship.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_213">[213]</span></p>
+
+<p>And now, with this rather long, but, I trust,
+interesting introduction, we will join him in his
+cabin, where he is interviewing Larry and our down-east
+friend, Striker.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_214">[214]</span></p>
+
+  <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXII">
+    CHAPTER XXII
+    <br>
+    <small>IN WHICH LARRY AND STRIKER ARE ADDED TO
+    THE “OLYMPIA’S” MUSTER-ROLL</small>
+  </h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>“Now tell me your tale, but you must be brief,”
+said the commodore, after surveying the pair critically,
+to see if his order to fit them out properly had
+been obeyed.</p>
+
+<p>The cabin table before him was piled high with
+charts, over which he and the other officers that had
+just left had been poring, and as Larry and Striker
+told their story, Commodore Dewey continued to
+examine the big sheets and make notes on a pad at
+hand. It was one of the Yankee “knacks” of the
+commander to be able to do several things at the
+same time. Larry was at first afraid that he was not
+listening, but he soon found out his mistake, as the
+officer asked him several questions bearing on points
+he had omitted or not made sufficiently plain.</p>
+
+<p>“You have both had a hard time of it, no doubt,”
+said Commodore Dewey, when the recital was
+brought to a close. “I should like to aid you in
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_215">[215]</span>getting back to your ship if she has managed to
+reach Hong Kong, which seems doubtful, but I
+don’t see what I can do unless we speak some vessel
+bound for that port. Do you know our mission in
+these waters?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, commodore, we jest larned it,” answered
+Striker, with a knowing nod of his lean head.
+“And, <a href="#i_fp215">commodore, it’s jest come into my mind to
+ask ye a favor</a>,” he went on, earnestly.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter" id="i_fp215">
+  <img src="images/i_fp215.jpg" alt="" title="">
+  <figcaption>
+    <p class="noic smcap"><a href="#Page_215">Commodore, it’s jest come into my Mind to ask ye a Favor</a></p>
+  </figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>“Well?”</p>
+
+<p>“Ye know how I stood in the rank o’ gunners—leas’wise
+ye can soon find out by the record. Let
+me stay aboard this ship with ye an’ help wipe
+them Spanish garlic-eaters off the face of the earth!
+Maybe ye ain’t got no opening aboard now, but I
+reckon there will be openings enough after the
+fightin’ begins.”</p>
+
+<p>At this earnest and original speech the commodore
+smiled. “You can stay if you wish, Striker, and I
+was going to offer you the chance, seeing that we
+are short a few men. I remember you were among
+the gunners, and it is such a position you shall fill,
+if you can arrange it with Captain Gridley. But
+what of you, my lad?” and the commander of the
+squadron turned to Larry.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_216">[216]</span></p>
+
+<p>For the past half hour the boy’s thoughts had
+been similar to those of his down-east friend. Everything
+about the warship pleased him, and to behold
+the glorious stars and stripes floating over such a
+well-trained body of American tars filled his heart
+with patriotism. Then, too, he remembered what
+his brothers had written, that if war came, one
+intended to enter the navy and the other the army.
+Here was his chance to jump into active duty for
+his beloved country. Should he let such a chance
+slip by?</p>
+
+<p>“I, too, will remain on board, if you will have
+me,” he said, his clear eyes gazing fully into those
+which were turned upon him as if to read his very
+thoughts. “I have two brothers in the States who
+said they would go into service if there was a call to
+arms. I have never been on a man-o’-war before,
+but I am willing to learn my duty, and I’ll fight for
+all I am worth, if I’m called on to do it.”</p>
+
+<p>“Good! That’s the kind of talk I like to hear,
+Russell. The man who is willing to do his whole
+duty—to do exactly as he is told to do—is the
+man we are after. To be sure, you are rather young
+for regular service, but, considering the manner in
+which you came on board, we’ll not let that count
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_217">[217]</span>against you. I suppose you would like to remain
+with Striker.”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, sir—everybody else on board being a
+stranger.”</p>
+
+<p>“We’ll try to fix it up. And that being settled,
+we’ll not be on the lookout for any ship to take you to
+Hong Kong for the present.” The commodore raised
+his voice and called the guard at the companionway.
+“Ask Captain Gridley to step in,” he continued.</p>
+
+<p>The word was passed, and soon the captain of the
+<i>Olympia</i> appeared, and the situation was explained
+to him. Being short of a few men, as Commodore
+Dewey had said, he gladly accepted Larry and
+Striker, and added their names to the muster-roll,
+to serve until discharged or until the end of the trip.
+This finished, the pair were turned over to the
+officer of the deck, who in his turn passed them to
+the chief of the gunners.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, you’re a full-fledged son o’ Uncle Sam
+now, Larry,” remarked Striker, after the pair had
+been assigned to their positions at one of the side
+guns, and been put through a strict drill lasting over
+an hour. “How do you feel?”</p>
+
+<p>“I feel a good deal like the cat that strayed in a
+strange garret,” laughed the boy, just a bit nervously,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_218">[218]</span>for the sight of such big guns, and so much
+powder and shell awed him. “Not much woodwork
+around here.”</p>
+
+<p>“Woodwork wouldn’t do, if it came to a real
+battle,” answered the Yankee, “for a good shot would
+fill every man around with splinters. When we
+clear the ship for action, you’ll see ’most everything
+that’s made of wood and movable heaved overboard.
+Even the men’s ditty boxes will have to go, and then
+they’ll be no richer than we are,” he added; the ditty
+boxes being, let me add, the chests in which the tars
+keep their odds-and-ends of belongings.</p>
+
+<p>Larry was tired, but scarcely hungry again when
+the call sounded for supper. Yet he and Striker
+joined the gunners’ mess, to which they received a
+warm welcome, for Uncle Sam’s Jack Tars are at all
+times a “hail-and-well-met” sort of men.</p>
+
+<p>Even “mess gear,” as it is termed, was a good deal
+of a revelation to Larry, so different was it from the
+eating hour on a merchantman. He learned that
+all the meals from that of the commodore down
+were cooked in the one big galley, presided over
+by a dozen or more cooks, but that separate messes
+were numerous, the commodore and the captain
+being entitled by rule to dine alone, and the senior
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_219">[219]</span>and junior officers also dining separately, in the
+ward-room. Of the others on the warship, the boatswain,
+gunners, carpenters, and sail-makers had an
+apartment to themselves, and so had the marines
+and the firemen and engineers.</p>
+
+<p>The queerest part of the proceedings, to the boy,
+was the fact that the jackies furnished most of their
+own eatables and chose their own cook, sometimes
+one of their own number. Uncle Sam allowed them
+the sum of thirty cents per day for food, and this
+amount had been put to the best possible use through
+money advanced before leaving port. In the American
+navy even an admiral pays for his own meals,
+although, to be sure, his salary is such that he can
+well afford to do so.</p>
+
+<p>Larry found his mess-room on the <i>Olympia</i> a long,
+narrow place, ventilated as freely as the construction
+of the warship allowed. The table had been
+swung to the ceiling, but was now let down, and a
+“striker,” that is, a cook’s helper, attached the
+benches. The boy was furnished with a porcelain
+plate and cup, and an iron fork, knife, and spoon.
+For supper that evening the bill of fare was coffee,
+bread and butter, stewed fruit, and a bit of fresh
+meat.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_220">[220]</span></p>
+
+<p>“It’s a mistake to think the jackies don’t live
+well,” observed Striker, when they were finishing
+up and some of the men had already drawn their
+pipes, for the hour after the last meal of the day
+was “smoking lamp” time. “The lads know how
+to make their allowance go as far as anybody, and
+they make the cooks do the best possible with all
+victuals as comes aboard. To be sure, on a long trip
+we’ll git salt hoss and pilot crackers putty often, but
+that can’t be helped on any ship, as ye know.”</p>
+
+<p>The “smoking lamp” just mentioned is a peculiarity
+of the navy. On account of the explosives
+aboard it is strictly prohibited to carry matches.
+So to light their pipes during the time they are
+allowed to smoke the men have a covered lamp lit
+for them, the cover having a small hole in it through
+which pipes can be lit.</p>
+
+<p>Usually, the time after supper belongs to the men,
+to do with as they please. Some read, if they are
+fortunate enough to have any literature with them,
+others play banjos and accordions, some dance jigs,
+and not a few gather in groups to talk and spin
+yarns. At half-past seven “hammocks” is sounded,
+and then the men can retire if they desire. If they
+wish to remain up, they can do so for two hours longer,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_221">[221]</span>when “pipe down” echoes through the warship, all
+the lights excepting those which must be kept lit
+are turned off, and the official day comes to an end.</p>
+
+<p>But this night was Thursday, and the <i>Olympia</i>
+was the flagship of the fleet, carrying the marine
+band of about twenty pieces. Thursday had always
+been concert night, and now, to put his men in good
+spirits, Commodore Dewey ordered the bandmaster to
+give them nothing but patriotic airs, and this Bandmaster
+Valifuoco did, starting with those songs which
+were particularly popular during the Civil War, and
+ending up with Yankee Doodle and the Star-Spangled
+Banner. As the latter song rolled out upon the balmy
+evening air, the men could not resist the temptation
+to join in with their lusty and deep voices, and the
+sound wafted across the sea to the other ships, until
+the sailors everywhere were singing as never before.</p>
+
+<p>“That’s the song of all songs,” cried Larry, when
+it was all over. “I never heard anything so grand
+before. Why, that ought to make a brave man of the
+worst coward on board! Hurrah for Old Glory!”</p>
+
+<p>Utterly worn out with all that had occurred, Larry
+and Striker sought the hammocks assigned to them
+immediately after the concert was over and slept
+“like logs,” to use the lad’s way of expressing it.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_222">[222]</span>So tired was the boy that he did not even dream,
+nor hear the many noises around him, such as the
+pounding of the water against the warship’s prow as
+she kept steadily on her course, or the rattle of the
+heavy chains as the <i>Olympia</i> rose and fell on the long
+swells.</p>
+
+<p>On deck there was a busy time among the petty
+officers, for a signal-light and a search-light drill were
+in progress. The great search-light flashed hither
+and thither over the dark green waters and over the
+other ships of the squadron. A sharp lookout was
+kept for the possible appearance of the enemy, the
+men in the tops having their night glasses continually
+in use. But the Spanish fleet did not show
+itself, and for the time being all went well.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_223">[223]</span></p>
+
+  <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXIII">
+    CHAPTER XXIII
+    <br>
+    <small>GUN DRILLS AND LIFE ON A MAN-O’-WAR</small>
+  </h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>Toot, toot! Toot, toot! Toot, toot-a-root toot!</p>
+
+<p>It was the loud blare of a bugle which aroused
+Larry at exactly five o’clock on the following morning.
+For the moment on awakening he opened his
+eyes and stared around him. Where was he?
+Surely not on the deserted island, nor even in the
+dingy forecastle of the <i>Columbia</i>.</p>
+
+<p>“Lively, lad!” shouted Striker, leaping from his
+hammock. “Lively, I say, or you’ll hear from the
+master-at-arms! You’ve got jest six minutes in
+which to dress yourself, roll up your hammock, and
+stow it away in the netting.”</p>
+
+<p>“All right, Luke, I’m with you!” answered the
+youth, now wide awake. With a turn he was out
+on the floor. “Dressing won’t take me long, with
+nothing but a shirt and a pair of trousers to take care
+of. My, but I feel quite like myself again, don’t
+you?”</p>
+
+<p>“Aye, aye, Larry; the sleep did us both a power
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_224">[224]</span>of good, I guess. Watch me put my hammock up,
+and you’ll have the trick in a jiffy. Now, then,
+there you are. Now roll up your trousers, for washing
+down decks on a man-o’-war is no play-work.”</p>
+
+<p>The officer of the deck was on hand, himself in
+bare feet like the men, and now the word was passed
+to the boatswain’s mate that all was ready. The
+word travelled to the engineer below, and presently
+the pumps began to work, sending heavy streams of
+sea-water through the various stretches of hose lying
+about, and then commenced the daily task of washing
+down.</p>
+
+<p>Had it not been for Striker, Larry would have
+been bewildered, but the tall Yankee knew exactly
+where to take hold, and made Larry go with him.
+“Everything is divided up,” said Striker. “We’ll
+have to attend to our corner of the ship and nothing
+else. It’s jest like you had an apartment in one of
+them big flat houses ashore. Don’t bother your
+neighbor, an’ don’t let him bother you, and you’ll get
+along fust-rate.”</p>
+
+<p>The washing-down process lasted an hour, and by
+that time the <i>Olympia</i> was as clean as a whistle from
+stem to stern. After this, half an hour was allowed
+in which to prepare for breakfast.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_225">[225]</span></p>
+
+<p>“You can spruce up now, or after you have had
+your grub,” said Striker. “I’d rather spruce up
+afterwards, for you might have an accident at the
+table if the <i>Olympia</i> should happen to give an extra
+heavy roll, and you want to keep that new suit
+mighty clean, or the division officer will be after
+you, especially on a ship that is carryin’ Commodore
+Dewey. You can go it a bit slack on some other
+craft, but it won’t do on a flagship—which is the
+model for all.”</p>
+
+<p>It was nearly nine o’clock when quarters sounded
+throughout the big ship. Again Larry looked at
+Striker inquiringly.</p>
+
+<p>“Roll call, my lad—what I told you to spruce up
+for. Come ahead,” and with this reply Striker led
+the way to the main deck, where sailors, gunners,
+marines, and others were arranging themselves in
+long lines, to answer to their names, and to pass
+inspection by their captain, while Commodore Dewey
+stood on the bridge above, looking on.</p>
+
+<p>After quarters had reached an end, and while
+Larry was wondering what would come next, it was
+announced that a gun drill would be had, and for
+nearly two hours they were kept at it below decks,
+working the monster to which they had been
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_226">[226]</span>attached, going through the motions of loading,
+sighting, and firing. Larry went through all these
+movements with the rest; for although it was not
+likely that he would be called on to sight the piece,
+a delicate operation, or to fire it, yet it was deemed
+necessary that he should know something of how
+these things were done, in case those on the gun who
+were his superiors should be killed or disabled.</p>
+
+<p>“Gracious, but it’s hot work!” exclaimed Larry,
+when the arduous drill had come to an end. “It
+seems to me the gunners get the worst of it.”</p>
+
+<p>“We don’t get any more of a dose than do the
+other men, lad,” returned Striker. “Away down
+under us, where it’s hotter twice over nor here, the
+engineers are a-workin’ over their boilers to keep up
+steam, and the firemen and coal-heavers are workin’
+harder than ever you dreamed on, shovellin’ coal and
+rakin’ down the fires, and if you’ll take a peep on
+deck you’ll find the marines hard at it, with their monkey
+drill, or sword exercise, or something like that.
+It’s one of the rules aboard a warship to keep Jack
+a-going, and the rule gets broken precious seldom.”</p>
+
+<p>“But how can they keep us going all the time, if
+there is no fight on?” persisted Larry.</p>
+
+<p>“You’re green, lad, even if ye have sailed in a
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_227">[227]</span>merchantman and know all the ropes from the fore-royal-stay
+to the topping-lift,” answered the down-east
+sailor, with a good-natured laugh, for with the
+deck of a warship once more beneath him he was in
+his element. “There are drills enough alone to keep
+a man hustling from sunrise to sunset, as you’ll find
+out if you remain on the <i>Olympia</i> long enough.
+Fust comes the drills on the guns, big and little—one
+of which we have just had. Then comes the
+sinking ship drill, with closing up the water-tight
+compartments, and afterwards provisioning the small
+boats and leaving the ship in a big haste but in perfect
+order. Another drill is the fire drill, with the
+hose and the hooked poles and sech; and another the
+‘repel boarders,’ though they don’t have boarders to
+repel like they use to; and another is the target
+practice with pistols and rifles; and then there is
+hospital work, and learning how to tie knots as they
+are tied in the navy, and a lot more which I can’t
+remember jest now, but which will drift along some
+day or another when you least expect it.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, it’s certainly a wonderful life,—a good
+deal different from what I expected, Luke. The
+<i>Olympia</i> doesn’t seem like a ship to me; she is more
+of a floating fort.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_228">[228]</span></p>
+
+<p>“And that is what all naval vessels are now, lad—floating
+forts, or fighting machines, as some call ’em.
+They don’t float because they have the wood to keep
+’em up, but because their metal sides keep out jest so
+much water. Make a good hole in a warship’s side,
+and she’ll drop to Davy Jones’ locker as quick as a
+lump o’ lead—that is, unless some of the water-tight
+compartments that are closed keep her afloat.”</p>
+
+<p>Striker was right; there was plenty to do, even
+with no enemy in sight, and as the fleet swept on
+straight for the island of Luzon, Larry found the
+time passing swiftly. He was one, as we know, to
+make friends quickly, and soon he was on the best of
+terms with half a dozen members of the gun crews.</p>
+
+<p>“You’ll get into it, my boy, and make a good one,”
+said Barrow, the head gunner of the piece to which
+he and Striker had been assigned. “I can see it by
+the cut of your jib. You’re no land-lubber, even if
+you are a bit green around here.” And he willingly
+gave both Striker and Larry “points” about the
+gun, which was as new to the down-east tar as it
+was to the boy, for guns are being improved constantly,
+and the present piece was of a different
+pattern from that which Striker had helped to manage
+on the <i>Pensacola</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_229">[229]</span></p>
+
+<p>By the talk of several petty officers Larry learned
+that it was expected they would sight the western
+coast of Luzon inside of the next twenty-four hours,
+and one of the officers added, that, if the Spanish
+fleet was where it was supposed to be, there would
+be hot fighting before the week was out.</p>
+
+<p>“I imagine it will be rather hot fighting,” said the
+boy to Striker. “Phew! the thermometer must be
+over a hundred in the shade, already!”</p>
+
+<p>“We’ve struck a calm, and that is what makes it
+so uncomfortable,” answered the down-easter. “We’re
+sure to have smooth weather after sech a lot o’ hurricanes
+as we had afore we were picked up.”</p>
+
+<p>It was indeed hot, and during the middle of the
+day the men were permitted to take it rather more
+easily than usual. After the drill at the guns Larry
+took the chance to bathe and felt much better for it.</p>
+
+<p>The remainder of the day passed without special
+incident, although it was easy to observe as the warship
+drew closer to the land under the flag of the
+enemy that the officers and some of the men were
+under a strong mental tension. Heretofore the vessels
+had been sailing somewhat far apart, but as night
+came on they bunched up, and a closer watch than
+ever was kept.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_230">[230]</span></p>
+
+<p>“You see,” explained Striker, when he and Larry
+were discussing the closing up of the squadron,
+“we haven’t but one small boat—the <i>Petrel</i>—to
+do the scouting for us, and it may be the Spaniards
+are on the watch for us, and if they catch sight of us,
+they may send out a torpedo boat after dark to blow
+one of our vessels sky-high. A torpedo boat is a
+pesky little thing that is hard to spot in the dark
+and still harder to get out of the way of. The only
+thing to do is to spot it in time and give it a few
+good, heavy shots.”</p>
+
+<p>It was on Saturday morning that land was sighted
+dead ahead—a long, low coast line, backed up by an
+indefinite series of hills. At once the fleet was signalled
+to halt, and each vessel began the preparations
+for that battle which every man felt was bound to
+come sooner or later.</p>
+
+<p>To a landsman the preparations would have looked
+very much like the frantic efforts of a lot of crazy
+men. Everything in the way of a possible detriment
+during a battle was pitched overboard. The articles
+thus disposed of consisted of mess tables and benches,
+wooden partitions and rails, heavy chests and ditty
+boxes, and a hundred and one other things of value—all
+went sailing upon the rolling waters of the
+China Sea.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_231">[231]</span></p>
+
+<p>“It’s like cleaning out a house on fire,” remarked
+Larry. “By the time the sailors get done throwing
+their things away I reckon we’ll be as rich as any of
+them and no mistake.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, they can’t be too careful,” answered
+Striker. “Splinters are awful things. I’ve heard
+tell that during the times they used to fight in nothing
+but wooden ships the men were worse wounded
+by flying bits of woodwork than they were by the
+shots themselves. If this stuff floats ashore, what a
+harvest them natives will reap!”</p>
+
+<p>The woodwork disposed of, strong nettings of rope
+were stretched under the small boats on deck, also to
+keep possible splinters off, and then the deck was
+cleared of everything movable. The heavy chain
+cables were likewise coiled around the ammunition
+hoists, to give them additional protection, for a
+coiled chain cable will ward off a shot or shell just as
+well as will a moderately thick sheet of armor plate.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_232">[232]</span></p>
+
+  <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXIV">
+    CHAPTER XXIV
+    <br>
+    <small>“CLEAR SHIP FOR ACTION!”</small>
+  </h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>“Do you know much about this island of Luzon?”
+asked Larry of Striker, after the two had been at the
+gun again, seeing that everything was oiled and in
+perfect order, and after Larry had taken an additional
+lesson in handling the stout canvas bags
+containing fifty and a hundred pounds of brown
+prismatic powder.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, I know a little,” answered the tall down-easter,
+as he took a long look ashore, for now the
+coast line loomed up quite plainly to his trained eye.
+“The island is by far the largest of the Philippines,
+and is one of the most northern. Away to the south
+of the group is Mindanao, and, as you know, there
+are any quantity of islands, big an’ little, betwixt
+the two. I once heard say that Luzon was about the
+size of all of our down-east states combined.”</p>
+
+<p>“It’s larger then than I thought it was,” cried
+Larry, somewhat astonished. “And what about the
+cities?”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_233">[233]</span></p>
+
+<p>“The biggest city is Manila, on the east shore of
+Manila Bay, a big harbor shaped like a camel’s head,
+with the opening at the neck of the animal, and
+Manila sittin’ like a wart on the critter’s nose.
+Years an’ years ago the city was only a Spanish
+military post, but it grew an’ grew, until I reckon
+there are several hundred thousand folks—Chinese
+and Japanese and all—in and around Manila. A
+good many of the people are what they call Tagals,
+a branch of the Malay race—a good enough set if
+the Spanish would only treat ’em half decently.”</p>
+
+<p>“Something was said about their being in rebellion,”
+went on the boy. “I wonder if they are fighting
+now.”</p>
+
+<p>“To be sure they are fighting,” put in Barrow, the
+gunner. “I heard the lieutenant say, and I guess
+he got it straight from headquarters, that there are
+between thirty and forty thousand Tagals and others
+in revolt, under General Emilio Aguinaldo and other
+leaders. Oh, they’ll make it as hot on land in these
+quarters as we’ll make it on the sea, if we can catch
+sight of those will-o-the-wisp Dons.”</p>
+
+<p>There had been a vigorous signalling going on between
+the vessels of the squadron, and now all but
+the <i>Concord</i> and the <i>Boston</i> slowed up. The two
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_234">[234]</span>craft mentioned put on extra steam, and in a short
+while were lost to sight in the distance.</p>
+
+<p>“They are out on a scout,” announced Striker.
+“Nothing like being careful, you know. There’s a
+bay ahead, and they are no doubt under orders to
+search it.”</p>
+
+<p>Striker’s surmise was correct. The opening ahead
+was that of Subic Bay, a number of miles west of the
+bay of Manila. The <i>Boston</i> and <i>Concord</i> were to
+examine every corner and shelter of it carefully, and
+hurry back at the first sign of the enemy. Later on
+the <i>Baltimore</i> joined her two sister ships.</p>
+
+<p>“If the Spanish fleet is in Subic Bay, we’ll have
+some fun getting at them,” Larry heard one of the
+sailors say. “The water there is mighty shallow in
+spots, and rocks are there a-plenty.”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, and it’s likely if the Dons are there they’ll
+plant some shore batteries, and give us the hottest
+kind of a plunging fire,” added another. “Splice
+the anchor chain, but I hate a plunging fire,” was
+added with a growl. All sailors hate such a fire,
+coming from an elevated battery capable of throwing
+shot and shell directly down upon a vessel’s
+deck.</p>
+
+<p>The hours passed slowly, until, towards evening,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_235">[235]</span>the three warships sent out on the scout were seen
+coming back “empty handed,” as Striker expressed
+it. No vessels but a few fishing and merchant craft
+had been seen.</p>
+
+<p>The warships were now called closer together, and
+the various commanders were summoned by Commodore
+Dewey to the flagship, to hold a council of war.
+The coming of so many small boats to the <i>Olympia</i>
+was an event of interest to Larry, and he viewed
+each captain with combined curiosity and respect.
+The council of war was held in the after-cabin of the
+flagship, and, of course, the sailors heard nothing of
+what was going on. But we will take a peep behind
+the curtain.</p>
+
+<p>Having satisfied himself that Admiral Montojo’s
+ships were not in Subic Bay, Commodore Dewey was
+strongly of the impression that the Spanish officer
+had taken his fleet into Manila Bay. There were a
+number of reasons for this, the principal one of
+which was that it seemed likely that the admiral
+would think it his duty to remain close to Manila, to
+protect it both from American attack and from the
+fiercer and fiercer attacks of the insurgents.</p>
+
+<p>The whole question was, then, Should the American
+warships risk a run into Manila Bay? That
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_236">[236]</span>was a question to be carefully considered, and why
+my young readers will soon learn.</p>
+
+<p>As Striker had mentioned, the bay was shaped
+somewhat like the head of a camel, with the neck
+of the animal forming the entrance to the waters.
+Manila was situated twenty-nine miles from this
+entrance, and eight miles out from the city was a
+long, low neck of land, at the extremity of which
+stood Fort Cavite, an old but massive stronghold,
+mounting sufficient pieces to cover the shipping in
+front of Manila proper.</p>
+
+<p>Almost in the centre of the entrance to Manila
+Bay lay Corregidor Island, with a smaller island
+beside it. Corregidor Island was also fortified, with
+guns well able to sweep the channels on both sides.
+More than this, it was reported that the entrance to
+the bay was strongly mined by what are known as
+contact mines; that is, mines which will explode
+the moment a ship comes into contact with them.
+What a marine mine can do has already been only
+too well illustrated in the case of the ill-fated <i>Maine</i>.</p>
+
+<p>The question then was, Should the squadron risk
+an attempt to slip into the bay, past Corregidor
+Island, and past the hidden mines? It took brave
+men to decide to do this, but the commodore and his
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_237">[237]</span>captains voted to a man that this should be done, and
+furthermore, that the attempt should be made that
+very night.</p>
+
+<p>In less than half an hour after the council of
+war broke up, what was proposed to be done
+under cover of darkness was known to every one
+on the warships. Perhaps some of the jackies
+turned pale at the news, but if so they were lost
+among the numbers of those who gave their commodore
+and their captains “three times three”
+with a will. Your true American man-o’-war’s
+man would rather fight than cruise around, any
+day.</p>
+
+<p>In order not to appear off the entrance to
+Manila Bay while it was yet light, the squadron
+steamed slowly southeastward, keeping a good
+distance from shore. The extreme heat almost
+made eating out of the question, yet supper was
+served at the usual time,—the last meal to be
+had for some hours to come.</p>
+
+<p>The sun went down as in a veritable sea of
+molten lead, and as the night drew on, the pale
+southern moon came up, accompanied by hundreds
+of twinkling stars. Perhaps those in command
+would have preferred greater darkness, yet
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_238">[238]</span>it was necessary to have some light, that the channel
+might be seen without the aid of search or
+other lights.</p>
+
+<p>As it grew darker each warship put out a single
+hooded light, showing from behind only; this precaution
+being taken to keep one vessel from running
+up into that before her. All the other exposed
+lights were cut off, and officers and men
+were alike warned that no noise that was not
+absolutely necessary should be made. If it was
+possible, Commodore Dewey intended to run by
+the batteries on Corregidor Island, and any other
+batteries in the vicinity, without being discovered.
+In naval warfare, and in military warfare, too, for
+the matter of that, to come upon the enemy when
+he least expects it, and thus throw him into more
+or less confusion, often constitutes a large element
+of success.</p>
+
+<p>On and on went the squadron, looking like dim
+phantoms of the night, moving in an irregular
+line, the <i>Olympia</i> in the lead, and the tiny <i>Petrel</i>
+and despatch boat <i>McCulloch</i> bringing up together
+in the rear. Corregidor Island was not yet visible,
+yet the men knew it might appear in the dim
+distance at any moment.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_239">[239]</span></p>
+
+<p>“Clear ship for action!”</p>
+
+<p>The command was given quietly, and instead of
+blowing their bugles and whistles, and ringing
+their bells, the under-officers passed the commands
+along by word of mouth. Silently the men obeyed,
+but what a rushing around ensued! To an outsider
+the men might have appeared in helpless
+confusion, yet nothing could have been more
+orderly.</p>
+
+<p>As mentioned before, all unnecessary woodwork
+had already been disposed of, but now the decks
+were cleared of even the ventilator pipes wherever
+they interfered with the range of the big
+guns, and chains were run out, to help work guns
+from the outside as well as from the inside. Added
+to this, a gangway that had been kept until the
+last minute was slid into the sea, and then the
+various hatchways were fitted with steel covers, to
+protect those below from the explosion of a stray
+shell or the plunging fire of small arms.</p>
+
+<p>In the bowels of the warships the engineers and
+others had also been busy, coupling the various
+engines so that they might work one for another,
+attaching the power to the machinery that worked
+the big guns and to the electric circuit, for my
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_240">[240]</span>young readers must remember that many modern
+guns are fired by electricity. The pumping-engines
+were also connected with the fire-hose, which was
+laid in every part of the ship, and final tests were
+made of the appliances designed to flood with
+water any magazine that was in danger of explosion.</p>
+
+<p>Firemen and stokers were at the fires, bringing
+the heat up to the highest possible point, and putting
+tons and tons of coal where it would be
+handiest, and also testing the forced draughts and
+blowers. They knew only too well that while in
+action a modern battleship must keep moving lively,
+or the enemy will blow her up as soon as guns can
+be properly pointed. And they knew, too, that if
+the battle went the wrong way, it would be steam
+alone that might save them from capture.</p>
+
+<p>And while this was going on, Larry, Striker,
+and those working with them had not been idle.
+The magazines had been opened and the work of
+delivering powder and projectiles to the various
+guns started. Ammunition, too, had been sent to
+the men in the fighting tops. Each gun was carefully
+swabbed out and loaded, and the range-finders
+tested by the head gunners. The actual loading
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_241">[241]</span>of the big gun to which he had been assigned filled
+Larry with interest. He wondered how it would
+sound when the charge went off, and if they would
+hit anything on the first trial.</p>
+
+<p>In the conning tower, a round, steel structure,
+stood Captain Gridley, ready to do or die, as the
+occasion might require. The captain was not well,
+but had begged to be allowed to take charge of
+his vessel upon this trip, confident that he should
+come out of any contest with colors flying. Close
+behind the captain was the man at the wheel, and
+half a dozen others, on duty at the speaking-tubes
+and ready to carry commands to any portion of
+the warship.</p>
+
+<p>The commodore was on the bridge, that curious
+structure set sidewise above the deck of every
+modern battleship. With him, too, were petty
+officers, to carry his commands or send them to
+the other vessels by the use of night signals.
+And all was as silent as death, even the big engines
+doing their work with nothing more than an
+indefinite rumble, and the big fires blazing away
+without a spark soaring skyward.</p>
+
+<p>A bit of land came out of the distance. Slowly
+but surely the <i>Olympia</i> crept closer to it, keeping
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_242">[242]</span>it upon the port side. It was Corregidor Island.
+Soon appeared the small island of Pulo Caballo.
+They were approaching the entrance to the harbor
+at last. Would they be able to pass into the waters
+beyond in safety?</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_243">[243]</span></p>
+
+  <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXV">
+    CHAPTER XXV
+    <br>
+    <small>THE SPANISH FLEET IS DISCOVERED OFF FORT CAVITE</small>
+  </h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>“We’re off the island!” whispered Striker to Larry,
+as both peered through the opening beside their gun.</p>
+
+<p>“It’s as dark on the island as it is on the ships,”
+returned the boy. His heart was thumping so violently
+that he could scarcely speak.</p>
+
+<p>“Silence, men!” came the low command from out
+of the semi-darkness of the gun-deck. And then, for
+the time being, nothing more was said.</p>
+
+<p>On swept the flagship at a speed of eight knots an
+hour. Corregidor Island was now directly abeam,
+and every glass on the big warship was trained on
+those dark and frowning works, while a sharp lookout
+was kept ahead and the “mine catchers” were
+out in force. In a minute more the <i>Olympia</i> would
+sweep into Boca Grande, the main channel, supposed
+to be fairly thick with hidden mines. What if their
+ship should strike? The thought sent a cold shiver
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_244">[244]</span>down Larry’s back. All in an instant he thought of
+his former home, of his two brothers, perhaps already
+in Uncle Sam’s service, of the <i>Columbia</i>, of Olan Oleson,
+and a score of other persons and things. He
+had turned away from the opening, but now, as
+Striker caught his arm, he turned back once more.</p>
+
+<p>The <i>Olympia</i> had passed the fort on the island, and
+still no alarm had sounded forth. Next came the
+<i>Baltimore</i>, and still the silence remained unbroken.
+The men on both warships almost felt like giving a
+cheer.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly all was changed. Sizz! a colored rocket
+went sailing up into the darkness of the night, fired
+from Corregidor Island. Immediately an answering
+rocket came from the distant shore. The American
+ships had been discovered!</p>
+
+<p>“The game is up!” cried Striker, and the hum of
+a dozen voices broke the stillness as the men began
+again to talk in whispers. “There, they have opened
+the ball! Now may the best men win, an’ thet means
+us Yankees, every trip!”</p>
+
+<p>While Striker was speaking, a dull boom had
+sounded over the night waters, and now an eight-inch
+shell whistled over the deck of the <i>Raleigh</i>, the
+third ship in the line. The shell had scarcely struck
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_245">[245]</span>the sea beyond when it exploded with a loud noise,
+scattering the spray in all directions.</p>
+
+<p>“I wonder if we have got to take this in silence,”
+muttered Barrow, when a boom from the <i>Raleigh</i> told
+that she had answered the enemy’s fire. Soon came a
+shot from the <i>Boston</i>, as that ship passed close to the
+fort. In the mean time the other vessels were out
+of range. Not to be outdone by her companions, the
+<i>Concord</i> sent a six-inch shell into a shore battery that
+began firing. At that time the damage done was not
+known, but later on it was ascertained that the shell
+had landed directly in the battery, and one Spanish
+soldier was killed and several gunners injured; and
+thus was the first blood of the war spilt in this part
+of the world.</p>
+
+<p>But the Americans had suffered a loss too, although
+not through the illy aimed shots of their
+enemy. Signalled to run alongside of the big <i>Olympia</i>
+for protection, the <i>McCulloch</i> reported the death
+of her chief engineer, a highly esteemed man named
+Randall, who had been overcome by the terrific heat
+in the despatch boat’s engine-room. This was the
+first, and, in fact, the only life lost by our side during
+the world-famous battle now so close at hand.</p>
+
+<p>“We’re out of that,” said the chief of the gunners,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_246">[246]</span>when Corregidor Island had been left in the distance.
+“And I don’t believe they even touched us.”</p>
+
+<p>“We’re not over the mines yet,” said Barrow. “I
+take it we’ve got good cause to remember the <i>Maine</i>
+just now. If we strike anything like that—”</p>
+
+<p>“Don’t go for to speak of it!” cried Striker. “It’s
+bad enough to have your nerves up like the string o’
+a bow, without spittin’ out your tongue about it.”
+And several nodded so vigorously at this that the
+word “mine” was not mentioned again. The lazy
+ones stretched themselves beside their “big brothers,”
+as they called their guns, but the majority were in no
+humor to do aught but peer through the portholes,
+trying vainly to pierce the darkness of the night as
+the moon scurried beneath some fleeting clouds.</p>
+
+<p>“Four hundred pairs of eyes on the watch and
+nothing to see but water and sky,” mused Striker.
+“I hope we don’t feel anything more either,” he added,
+and that was the last reference the down-easter made
+to the mines.</p>
+
+<p>However, by one o’clock in the morning the bugbear
+was a thing of the past, for all the warships were
+standing out into the middle of Manila Bay, where
+it was not likely a mine would be encountered. That
+they had actually passed through a field of mines,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_247">[247]</span>though, is a matter of history, and this being so, their
+complete escape from injury seems little short of a
+miracle. Some naval experts have said that running
+the mines was as much to the Americans’ credit as
+what came after.</p>
+
+<p>There now remained nothing to do but to wait for
+daylight, since Commodore Dewey did not deem it
+advisable to go in shore in the darkness. The vessels
+consequently sailed on slowly towards the outer anchorage
+off Manila. A great many more men turned
+in to snatch a nap previous to engaging in a battle
+that was likely to be not far off. From what they
+had seen off Corregidor Island, those in command
+felt almost certain that Admiral Montojo’s fleet must
+be in the vicinity.</p>
+
+<p>“It will either be a case of meeting that fleet or
+bombarding Manila, see if it ain’t,” remarked Striker,
+as he and Larry turned in near the gun. Getting
+into one’s hammock under the circumstances was out
+of the question.</p>
+
+<p>At four o’clock, just as the first streaks of dawn
+were beginning to show over the distant mountains
+of Luzon, there was a call for something with which
+to arouse the men, and strong coffee was served, to
+which were added hardtack for any one who cared for
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_248">[248]</span>them. As Larry sipped his steaming coffee and
+munched a soaked-up hardtack, he looked occasionally
+through the port and over the distant waters, and
+beheld what looked like a mass of shipping backed
+up by a solidly built-up town. This was Manila
+itself.</p>
+
+<p>“It looks exactly as it did when I was here years
+ago,” remarked Striker. “That part over to the
+right is old Manila, where the military post used to
+be. The main shipping is dead ahead of us, in the
+new territory. There is a river running between the
+two portions.”</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t see anything like a warship,” said Larry,
+“though, to be sure, it’s too dark yet to see much.”</p>
+
+<p>“They’ll see all they want to see when the sun is
+a bit higher, lad, and they get out their best glasses.
+But I don’t think the Spaniards would put their
+battleships in the midst o’ that shipping—it
+wouldn’t be fair, if they were expecting us.”</p>
+
+<p>The squadron now began to move along the front
+of Manila harbor, with glasses trained on the shipping,
+from which, as the sun came up, could be seen
+floating the flags of various nations. Some of the
+flags were Spanish, but these were on merchantmen
+and fishing craft.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_249">[249]</span></p>
+
+<p>“We haven’t catched the Spanish admiral yet,”
+sighed the tall down-easter, as word drifted below
+that Manila harbor did not hold the fleet they were
+after. “I wonder what the commodore will do
+now?”</p>
+
+<p>No one on the <i>Olympia</i> was kept long in suspense
+over this point. The squadron was moving southward,
+in the direction of the long neck of land upon
+which was located, as previously mentioned, Fort
+Cavite, or, as it is locally termed, the Cavite
+Arsenal.</p>
+
+<p>“They have found the Spanish fleet!” The cry
+ran from one ship to another, and soon it was on
+the lips of everybody, from the men in the tops
+to the stokers in the depths of the coal bunkers.
+The warships of the enemy had been discovered
+lying in the little bay formed by the curving shore
+of old Manila and the neck of land supporting Fort
+Cavite. The distance from Fort Cavite to Manila
+is almost eight miles in a straight line. Along such
+an imaginary line, and back of it, was Admiral
+Montojo’s fleet, flanked on the right by Manila’s
+shore batteries, and on the left by the powerful guns
+of the fort.</p>
+
+<p>The Spanish fleet was a formidable one. If their
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_250">[250]</span>individual ships were not the equal of the American
+vessels, they had more of them, and they had, moreover,
+the assistance of the shore batteries and the
+powerful fort. A glance at their vessels will not
+come amiss to the reader who wishes to know some
+of the particulars of this stirring encounter.</p>
+
+<p>The real flagship of the Spanish fleet was the
+cruiser <i>Reina Cristina</i>, of 3100 tons, carrying twenty
+guns of small and large caliber, including six rapid-firing
+guns supposed to be of first-class pattern and
+efficacy. Like the <i>Olympia</i>, she carried about four
+hundred officers and men.</p>
+
+<p>Next in size to the flagship came the cruiser <i>Castilla</i>,
+the temporary flagship, of 3300 tons, carrying
+a mixed battery of eighteen guns, and manned by
+three hundred well-trained Spanish tars. Two other
+cruisers were the <i>Don Antonio de Ulloa</i> and the <i>Don
+Juan de Austria</i>, of about 1100 tons burden each,
+and each carrying nine guns and manned by a
+crew of one hundred and seventy-three. There was
+another cruiser at hand, the <i>Velasco</i>, but she was
+out of repair, and her best guns had been placed
+near the fort, for use from shore.</p>
+
+<p>Of the gunboats, of which there were quite a
+number, the principal ones were the <i>Isla de Luzon</i>
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_251">[251]</span>and the <i>Isla de Cuba</i>, each of a thousand tons, carrying
+a mixed battery of ten guns, and manned by a
+hundred and sixty officers and men. There were
+also the <i>General Lezo</i>, mounting half a dozen guns,
+the <i>Del Dueroe</i>, and also the Spanish mail steamer,
+<i>Mindanao</i>, which had been hastily pressed into service
+as an auxiliary cruiser, with a battery of no
+mean proportions. Added to these vessels were four
+torpedo boats and the transport <i>Manila</i>. The total
+number of officers and men on the various vessels
+was estimated to be between eighteen and nineteen
+hundred—about a hundred more than in the American
+forces.</p>
+
+<p>A word may be added concerning Admiral Patricio
+Montojo y Pasaron. He was not only the commander
+of the fleet, but also the commander at
+Cavite. He was an old and trained naval officer,
+known to be brave to the degree of rashness, and
+even by Americans it was felt that he was a foe
+fully worthy of Commodore Dewey’s steel. The
+men beneath the Spanish admiral were as bold and
+hard fighters as himself. All in all, the coming contest
+was to be a battle of giants, and what the outcome
+of that mighty contest was to be no person at
+the outset could tell.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_252">[252]</span></p>
+
+  <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXVI">
+    CHAPTER XXVI
+    <br>
+    <small>THE BATTLE OF MANILA BAY</small>
+  </h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>Boom! bang! crack! boom! boom! boom!</p>
+
+<p>Loud and clear came the reports over the waters
+of the inner bay, and over and around the American
+warships whistled and screamed a dozen balls
+and shells ere they plunged into the briny element.
+The shore battery near old Manila had
+“opened the ball,” as Striker declared, and, though
+not a shot took effect, the firing thoroughly aroused
+Uncle Sam’s jackies to the fact that “the real
+thing” was on them.</p>
+
+<p>“Now, boys, roll up your sleeves and be prepared
+to pitch in!” exclaimed Barrow. “It’s no
+loafing allowed for the next few hours, I’ll warrant
+you! Larry, you must do the double-quick now
+if you never did it before.”</p>
+
+<p>“I’m more than willing to pitch in,” answered
+the youth, with a nervous little laugh. “Anything
+is better than this waiting around.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_253">[253]</span></p>
+
+<p>“That’s true,” put in Striker. “I know I won’t
+get my nerves settled until we’re in the thick on
+it—kind o’ like your second wind in a fist fight,
+you know.”</p>
+
+<p>The men were crowded together at the ports,
+watching eagerly whatever might be seen, which
+just then was not much, for they were getting away
+from the shore batteries, and the first of the battleships
+of the enemy was still some distance off.
+Barrow’s reference to shirt sleeves was entirely
+superfluous, since the shirts worn were altogether
+of the short-sleeved variety, revealing full many a
+tough and brawny arm, ready to do battle as long
+as the breath of life remained in its owner’s body.</p>
+
+<p>“We’re getting closer to ’em,” said Striker, a
+few minutes later. “If only the commodore—”</p>
+
+<p>The tall Yankee did not finish, but stared before
+him in open-mouthed amazement. About a
+thousand yards away the waters of the bay had
+suddenly gone up into a gigantic fountain. A
+rumble followed, felt quite distinctly by all on
+board.</p>
+
+<p>“Gracious, what’s that, an earthquake?” ejaculated
+Larry.</p>
+
+<p>“Sort of one, lad,” answered Barrow. “That
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_254">[254]</span>was a connection mine going up. They’ve got ’em
+out here, it would seem, but they made a bad miss
+of it that trip—about half a mile, I calculate. It’s
+lucky we weren’t sailing closer in, eh?”</p>
+
+<p>“I should say so.” Larry drew a long breath.
+“I think I’d rather fight with the guns, any day.”</p>
+
+<p>“So would all of us, lad; but we have to take
+what comes, and so does the enemy. We’ve got
+a whole lot of warships against us, but the <i>Olympia’s</i>
+all right, and so are the others, and we’ll knock
+the spots off those Spaniards. Hurrah for Uncle
+Sam and remember the <i>Maine</i>!” he added loudly.</p>
+
+<p>“Remember the <i>Maine</i>!” came back from a hundred
+voices, in heavy unison. That was the battle-cry,
+uttered thousands of times during those trying
+hours, just as during the Mexican War the cry
+was, “Remember the Alamo!” and during the
+Revolutionary War, “Remember Concord and Lexington!”
+Soldiers and sailors must have some cry
+to stir up their blood, and what cry was better for
+that purpose than one calling upon them to remember
+the martyrdom of two hundred and fifty-three
+of their comrades in arms?</p>
+
+<p>The signal was now displayed from the American
+flagship to close up and prepare for general action,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_255">[255]</span>and the vessels fell into a single column, four hundred
+yards apart, and went ahead at a speed of
+six knots an hour. The <i>Olympia</i>, as usual, led, and
+from each masthead and gaff floated Old Glory,
+whipping out a breezy defiance to the enemy as
+the line swept on.</p>
+
+<p>Commodore Dewey’s plan of battle was exceedingly
+simple. Unless something unusual occurred,
+the ships were to make a number of courses in
+front of the enemy’s line, the vessels taking part
+to be the six cruisers and gunboats. The despatch
+boat and the boats with coal and stores were to
+lie just out of range of the Spanish guns. The
+first course was to be at forty-five hundred yards,
+and each circuit was to come in a little closer, the
+tide of battle permitting. It was Dewey’s plan,
+just as it was Nelson’s plan at the famous battle
+of Trafalgar, to give the enemy no rest, but to go
+at him with all vigor from the start.</p>
+
+<p>The commodore was on the bridge of the <i>Olympia</i>
+with his powerful field-glasses in his hand. When
+about five thousand yards away from the <i>Castilla</i>,
+which was seen to be flying the Spanish admiral’s
+pennant for the time being, he turned to Captain
+Gridley, who stood watching him eagerly.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_256">[256]</span></p>
+
+<p>“You can open up as soon as you please, Gridley,”
+he said. “And give it to them good and
+strong.”</p>
+
+<p>“I’ll train the forward turret gun myself,” Captain
+Gridley is reported to have answered, as he
+made off, to later on command his ship from the
+conning tower.</p>
+
+<p>“Ready there!” the cry running along the larboard
+guns made everybody jump. “Prepare to
+fire.”</p>
+
+<p>“Don’t hold your ears shut!” screamed Striker
+at Larry. “They are better off open, and throw
+your arms out like this, and open your mouth,” he
+went through the motions himself. “Now, then!”</p>
+
+<p>Larry had scarcely time to follow directions than
+the final signal was given, and with what seemed
+little short of a thunderclap to the youth, the <i>Olympia</i>
+let drive with her four eight-inch turret guns.
+The aim was directed at the <i>Castilla</i>, and when
+the smoke cleared away the Spanish flagship was
+seen to be struck in one, if not two, places.</p>
+
+<p>“Come, lad, pick yourself up and hustle!” cried
+Barrow, for Larry had gone down with the unusual
+roll caused by the discharge. “Lively now, for
+there’s no time to waste before the next shot.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_257">[257]</span></p>
+
+<p>The man at the breech, a good-natured chap
+named Castleton, was already opening the gun. As
+the breech fell back a cloud of smoke and soot
+entered the gun-room, nearly choking Larry. When
+the boy had cleared his eyes and throat he saw to
+his astonishment that all the highly polished brass-work
+on the cannon had turned a sickly green.</p>
+
+<p>The soot cleared away, Striker began to swab
+out the gun, which contained a quantity of matter
+looking like red chalk. This was what was left of
+the burnt powder. Barrow felt of the piece, to
+find it cool enough to do without a washing with
+cold water, and then the process of reloading began.</p>
+
+<p>During this time the other ships in the line
+began to fire at the enemy, and now the Spanish
+warships fired in return. The noise was something
+fearful, and in a short while every ship in the
+harbor was enveloped in a dense cloud of smoke.</p>
+
+<p>As was natural, the opening fire on the American
+side was directed principally to the ship flying the
+Spanish admiral’s colors, and by the time one
+course had been taken down the line, and the
+<i>Olympia</i> was sweeping closer to try it again, the
+<i>Castilla</i>, as well as the <i>Reina Cristina</i>, was seen
+to be struck in a dozen places, and on fire.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_258">[258]</span></p>
+
+<p>“It’s first blood for us!” yelled Striker, enthusiastically.
+“I don’t believe we’ve been struck
+once.”</p>
+
+<p>He had hardly spoken when the whining shriek
+of a hundred and fifty pound shell was heard, coming
+straight at the <i>Olympia</i>. “We’re struck now!”
+cried Barrow, when, as shells sometimes do, the
+unwelcome missile took a turn in the air and went
+sailing through the flagship’s upper works, doing
+damage that was but trifling.</p>
+
+<p>In less than half an hour Larry felt at home at
+his work. He now knew what real fighting meant,
+and was getting used to the noise and smoke.
+Strange to say, he did not feel in the least alarmed.
+Perhaps this was because some awful shot had not
+yet brought home to him the true horrors of the
+dreadful combat. He was working like a Trojan,
+with the perspiration pouring from his whole body,
+and the smoke and soot had made him the color
+of a true African.</p>
+
+<p>The <i>Olympia’s</i> gunners had now obtained the
+correct range of the Spanish ships, and in addition
+to the smaller shots were pouring in a number of
+two hundred and fifty pound shells. As the flagship
+came down the second course, these shells
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_259">[259]</span>struck fairly and squarely upon the deck of the
+<i>Castilla</i>, doing fearful damage.</p>
+
+<p>“She’ll be out of it in a few minutes more!”
+cried Striker. “See, she is burning in two places.
+Her crew had better leave before the magazines
+blow up, if they want to save their lives.”</p>
+
+<p>“Their other ships are catching it, too,” said
+Barrow, as a sudden breeze sent the smoke flying.
+“I wonder how the rest of our squadron are making
+it?”</p>
+
+<p>That was a question which could not be answered
+just then, but, later on, word drifted into the gun-room
+that the <i>Baltimore</i> had been hit rather heavily
+and some of the men injured. The <i>Raleigh</i> had
+had her largest whaleboat smashed, and the splinters
+had caught some of the men on deck, but the injuries
+were trifling.</p>
+
+<p>As the smoke went up, the <i>Castilla</i> was seen to
+be turning, as if to retire to a small inlet partly
+behind Fort Cavite. She was now in flames in
+every part. Quick orders were given, and just as
+the Spanish flagship showed her stern fully, a big
+shot from the <i>Olympia</i> went crashing straight
+through her. It is said this shot killed over fifty
+of her crew, and exploded one of her boilers.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_260">[260]</span>However that was, it is a fact that she sank immediately
+afterwards, the majority of her crew
+going with her.</p>
+
+<p>“The game is up with ’em!” cried Striker. “I
+reckon the Dons will give it up now!”</p>
+
+<p>But the tall Yankee was mistaken, not knowing
+the stern fighting qualities of Admiral Montojo.
+Scarcely had the <i>Castilla</i> gone down when the
+admiral’s flag was hoisted on the <i>Reina Cristina</i>,
+and the fire on board of that boat was put out.</p>
+
+<p>“Their flag is up again!” said Barrow. “Now
+to give the new flagship the same dose that we
+gave the other! Come, Castleton, clean out the
+gun good.”</p>
+
+<p>Castleton, very much exhausted, staggered forward
+and did as bidden. The terrible heat was
+beginning to tell upon all sides. Larry brought
+some powder, and then turned to get a drink from
+the hose pipe, his mouth feeling as though it was
+filled with cotton. Striker had obtained permission
+to take a peep on deck, and the other men were
+working along as well as the smoke and exhaustion
+would permit.</p>
+
+<p>How it all happened it was impossible, afterward,
+for Larry to tell. He had obtained all the powder
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_261">[261]</span>necessary and was getting his drink as before mentioned.
+A fall beside him made him turn, and
+through the smoke he saw Castleton lying beside
+him. The gunner’s mate had been overcome by
+the heat.</p>
+
+<p>“Poor chap!” thought the boy, and turned the
+hose upon the prostrate man’s head, as the best
+available means of restoring him to consciousness.</p>
+
+<p>Then, while still working over Castleton, Larry
+happened to glance towards the gun, which Barrow
+was on the point of firing. A sight met his gaze
+which nearly paralyzed him. The gun breech was
+closed but still unlocked! Should Barrow discharge
+the gun while in that condition, every one
+of them would be blown to atoms!</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_262">[262]</span></p>
+
+  <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXVII">
+    CHAPTER XXVII
+    <br>
+    <small>ADDITIONAL INCIDENTS OF THE GREAT BATTLE</small>
+  </h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>As he made his awful discovery, Larry dropped the
+hose pipe and fell back a few steps. To get out of
+danger is, instinctively, the first thought of every
+one, and in a vague way it flashed over his mind that
+he must flee or be annihilated.</p>
+
+<p>Then another thought came, swift on the track of
+the first. If the gun was discharged with the breech
+unlocked, all his companions, and perhaps many
+others, would be killed, while there was no telling
+how much the <i>Olympia</i> would suffer.</p>
+
+<p>All this passed through his mind with the rapidity
+of a lightning flash. As he thought, he tried to yell
+to Barrow, but the words would not come. His very
+jaws were set in horror, while his eyes bulged from
+their sockets. His hands went up, and he shook
+them appealingly at the head gunner.</p>
+
+<p>But Barrow was looking another way, as was
+natural when the piece was to be discharged. Larry
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_263">[263]</span>felt it was all over. In that moment he virtually
+suffered the pang of being killed.</p>
+
+<p>But now came a chance to stop the impending
+catastrophe. Prompted by curiosity, Barrow turned,
+to take another squint at the enemy before letting
+drive. But his hand still retained its hold on the
+connection used for firing purposes.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, God, help me!” was the thought which
+forced its way to Larry’s lips, and he made one wild,
+agonizing leap to the head gunner’s side. <a href="#i_fp263">“Don’t
+fire! don’t fire!”</a></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter" id="i_fp263">
+  <img src="images/i_fp263.jpg" alt="" title="">
+  <figcaption>
+    <p class="noic smcap"><a href="#Page_263">Don’t fire! Don’t fire!</a></p>
+  </figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>“What’s that?” asked Barrow, coolly, as he
+turned. Then as he caught sight of the boy’s set
+face and staring eyes, he added, “Why, lad, what
+ails you? Got a fit?”</p>
+
+<p>“Don’t fire! don’t fire!” repeated Larry, and with
+rigid finger pointed to the unlocked breech.</p>
+
+<p>It was now Barrow’s turn to be struck dumb. He
+still held the connection, and threatened in his consternation
+to set off the gun anyway. But suddenly
+he realized the situation more fully, and dropped the
+connection as though it were a coal of fire.</p>
+
+<p>“Where is Castleton?” he thundered. “Does he
+want to blow us all to kingdom come?”</p>
+
+<p>For answer, Larry pointed to the prostrate man.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_264">[264]</span>“He’s knocked out by the heat,” he answered, in a
+voice that did not sound in the least like his own.</p>
+
+<p>“Humph! he ought to have given us some warning!”
+grumbled Barrow, doing what he could to
+steady his own tones. “Why, if the gun had gone
+off standing like that, the whole gun-room would
+have been knocked out of sight, to say nothing of
+the rest of the ship.”</p>
+
+<p>He began to lock up the breech, and Larry turned
+again to poor Castleton. The fellow soon regained
+his consciousness, but could not continue his work,
+and was sent to the hospital quarters, while an extra
+man from another gun came to take his place.</p>
+
+<p>“I must give you credit for what you did, Larry,”
+said Barrow, when the excitement was over. “Many
+a boy, and man, too, for that matter, would have
+thought of nothing but getting away. You saved us
+all, and I, for one, sha’n’t forget it,” and he cracked
+the youth good-naturedly upon the shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>Striker now came back, but the work was getting
+so vigorous that he was not told of the incident until
+some time after. From the bridge, the commodore
+had discovered a torpedo boat sneaking out from below
+the fort, with the evident intention of making a
+circuit and coming up back of the American ships.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_265">[265]</span>Captain Gridley was ordered to train the guns of the
+<i>Olympia</i> upon this craft, and the gunners went at it
+with a will, each vying with the others in making
+the best shot. The gun our friends were at hit the
+torpedo boat on the stern, disabling her steering gear,
+and two other shots sent her scurrying for land.
+When close to shore a final shot fairly lifted her out
+of the water and cast her on the sands, a total wreck.</p>
+
+<p>By the time the <i>Olympia</i> was coming along on her
+third course before the line of the enemy, it was
+found that the new flagship, the <i>Reina Cristina</i>, was
+again in flames, while the other ships were suffering
+more or less in the same way. The new flagship
+fought desperately, and two shots whizzed through
+the <i>Olympia’s</i> upper rigging again, while a third
+fairly clipped the American flagship’s stern. But the
+<i>Reina Cristina</i> could not hold out, and retired in a
+thick cloud of smoke, burning fiercely.</p>
+
+<p>In the mean time, however, the <i>Don Antonio de
+Ulloa</i> came to the front with a heavy fire, directed
+principally at the <i>Olympia</i> and the <i>Baltimore</i>. Her
+captain, E. Robino, was known to be one of the
+greatest fighters in the Spanish navy, and he kept his
+guns at it so long as it was possible for him to do so.</p>
+
+<p>“He is hot as pepper,” said Striker, as they drew
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_266">[266]</span>closer to the <i>Ulloa</i>. “But we’ll down him, see if we
+don’t.” And Striker was right, for it was not long
+after this that the <i>Ulloa</i> went down, many of her men
+with her, but with her colors nailed to her mast. It
+was now seen that nearly all the other ships were
+burning. A few more shots from the <i>Olympia</i> were
+delivered, and the flagship drew off, signalling the
+others to follow. To go close in shore after the
+enemy was an impossibility for the large members
+of the squadron, the water being too shallow.</p>
+
+<p>The terrific heat of the day, and the forced fighting,
+had almost exhausted every man on the ships,
+and seeing the fight was his own, Commodore Dewey
+wisely decided to give his men a breathing spell and
+something to eat. Accordingly, as soon as they were
+out of range, orders came to quit the guns and get
+breakfast. The battle had now raged for about three
+hours.</p>
+
+<p>“We’ve got ’em on the run!” shouted Striker,
+enthusiastically. “I hope the commodore sends us
+back to finish ’em up.”</p>
+
+<p>“He’ll do that all right enough,” replied a brawny
+marine standing by. “You never saw Commodore
+Dewey doing things by halves.”</p>
+
+<p>“Three cheers for our commodore!” suddenly
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_267">[267]</span>shouted somebody, and the cheers were given with a
+will.</p>
+
+<p>“Three cheers for Captain Gridley and our other
+officers!” was added.</p>
+
+<p>“What’s the matter with three cheers for the
+<i>Olympia</i> and the other ships of this squadron?”
+asked Larry, half laughing, and up went the cheers
+as loudly as the rest. No one on board had been
+injured, the enemy was all but defeated, and it was a
+joyous if a tired time all around.</p>
+
+<p>“We’ve got five shots in the upper works, that’s
+all,” was the report which went around. “The only
+man injured is Casey. Hautermann stepped on his
+toe-corn, and they had a set-to.” And a roar went up;
+for Casey was known as a pugnacious Irishman, and
+Hautermann as an equally belligerent German, and
+the two were continually at swords’ points.</p>
+
+<p>Breakfast and a well-earned rest put every man
+again on his feet, and Castleton came back to his
+gun. “I remember the breech,” he said. “I was
+just starting to lock it when I went down as if a
+weight had hit me on the head. I couldn’t have
+helped it if I was to hang for it.”</p>
+
+<p>“I believe you,” growled Barrow. “But after
+this I reckon I’ll take a squint at the breech myself
+before I touch her off.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_268">[268]</span></p>
+
+<p>During the time that the men were having breakfast
+a council of war was held by the commodore and his
+captains, and it was decided to run in as close as
+possible to Fort Cavite and silence it, as well as to
+go at what was left of the Spanish fleet. The order
+to return to battle sounded at a little before eleven,
+and this time the <i>Baltimore</i> was allowed to lead, the
+<i>Olympia</i> and others following.</p>
+
+<p>Again the storm of shot and shell broke forth,
+fiercely upon the American side, and but feebly upon
+the part of their enemy. All the big ships of the
+Spaniards were now either burnt or sunk, and the
+little craft were fast getting into the same condition.</p>
+
+<p>“The <i>Raleigh</i>, <i>Concord</i>, and <i>Petrel</i> will go inside
+and destroy shipping,” was the next order signalled
+from the flagship, and those warships hastened to obey.
+But the <i>Raleigh</i> drew too much water, and after
+getting aground twice was forced to give up the task
+assigned to her. The <i>Concord</i> and <i>Petrel</i>, however,
+crossed the shoals in safety, and began a fierce bombardment
+from the rear, while the big ships shelled
+the Arsenal from the front. In the mean time, the
+batteries near Manila had been silenced by Commodore
+Dewey, who sent word that the city’s guns
+must cease firing or he would shell the town.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_269">[269]</span></p>
+
+<p>The tide of battle had swept along into the afternoon
+when suddenly a loud hurrahing was heard,
+coming from where the <i>Concord</i> and <i>Petrel</i> lay. A
+minute later, as the smoke lifted, a flag of truce
+could be seen flying from the Arsenal. Then the
+<i>Petrel</i> signalled:—</p>
+
+<p>“The enemy has surrendered!”</p>
+
+<p>What a storm of cheers went up. It was as if
+pandemonium had suddenly broken loose upon all
+sides. Officers joined the men in shouting, and the
+deck and rigging swarmed with jackies waving their
+caps and handkerchiefs. Larry shouted as loudly as
+the rest, and it must be acknowledged that the plucky
+boy thought it the proudest moment of his life.</p>
+
+<p>It was a victory without a parallel in history.
+Six American fighting ships had attacked eight
+large Spanish vessels, besides a number of small
+craft, a shore battery, and a fairly-well equipped
+fort. The Spanish had had all their ships either
+sunk, blown up, or burnt, the battery had been
+shattered to pieces and the fort silenced. The
+Spanish had lost in killed and wounded over five
+hundred men, and those that were able, were fleeing
+to Manila by the inland roads, and with
+them Admiral Montojo, who was slightly wounded.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_270">[270]</span></p>
+
+<p>And the loss to the Americans? Strange, nay,
+astonishing as it may appear, there was none worth
+mentioning, if we except the death of the engineer
+overcome by the heat. On the <i>Baltimore</i> six men
+had been wounded by the bursting of a shell, but
+the surgeons said all would speedily recover. The
+<i>Olympia</i> had received five shots in her upper
+works, of no consequence, as viewed from the
+standpoint of war, and the <i>Raleigh’s</i> whaleboat
+would need the services of the ship’s carpenter.
+Three shots in her upper works was the damage on
+the <i>Baltimore</i>, and the <i>Boston</i>, <i>Concord</i>, and <i>Petrel</i>
+had escaped with practically no injury at all.</p>
+
+<p>Small wonder, then, that the officers and men of
+the squadron were the happiest set on the face of
+the earth, and small wonder that they thought
+their gallant commodore the greatest naval hero
+living. As for Commodore Dewey, he was equally
+happy. That day’s work had placed his name high
+up on the brightest page in American history.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_271">[271]</span></p>
+
+  <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXVIII">
+    CHAPTER XXVIII
+    <br>
+    <small>ON TO HONG KONG—CONCLUSION</small>
+  </h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>“I feel like a fellow who has been rolling in a
+coal hole,” remarked Larry, when the excitement
+had somewhat subsided. “And my ears are in a
+regular buzz.”</p>
+
+<p>“That buzzing will go away by morning,” said
+Striker. “Ah, lad, but it was a great victory,
+wasn’t it now?” and he slapped Larry heartily on
+the back. When the news of the surrender came
+in, Striker had insisted upon dancing an impromptu
+jig, and several had joined in. There
+was likely to be a “high time” on the <i>Olympia</i>
+for some days to come, now that the terrible strain
+under which the men had been laboring had been
+removed.</p>
+
+<p>For it is no easy thing to face death, even at
+something of a distance. Everybody knew that
+only the wretched aiming of the Spanish gunners
+had saved them from shots of a more or less serious
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_272">[272]</span>nature. Had those five balls which had struck
+in the upper works been aimed lower, there would,
+without question, have been great havoc.</p>
+
+<p>It was drawing towards Sunday evening, and the
+<i>Olympia</i> had taken up a position outside of Manila,
+leaving several of the other vessels to guard around
+Fort Cavite. At this place, the Spaniards were
+engaged in carrying off their dead and wounded
+and were not molested. Commodore Dewey might
+have taken a large number of prisoners, had he
+forced a fight on land, but he had no accommodations
+for such a purpose. He had been sent out
+to find the Spanish fleet and “engage” it, and he
+had engaged it most effectually. He must now
+await additional orders from Washington.</p>
+
+<p>It was some little time before Larry himself felt
+like quieting down, but a good washing up and
+changing of garments made him feel more like
+himself.</p>
+
+<p>“This isn’t much of a Sunday,” he observed to
+Barrow, when they were eating supper. “The
+chaplain hasn’t had a chance to say a word.”</p>
+
+<p>Nevertheless, the chaplain did hold a brief
+“church,” although the sailors prepared no “rig”
+for it. This was during the smoking hour, and
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_273">[273]</span>men attended or not, just as they pleased. Larry
+felt it his duty to go, and took Striker with
+him.</p>
+
+<p>Utterly worn out, the boy slept soundly that
+night, although once or twice some ugly dreams
+chased each other across his mind—cannon shots
+aimed directly for his head and that unlocked
+breech, which he never would forget.</p>
+
+<p>The following day was a busy one for the separate
+vessels of the Asiatic Squadron. While the <i>Concord</i>
+and <i>Petrel</i> received the surrender of the fort
+and arsenal at Cavite, and also took possession of
+the navy yard, the <i>Raleigh</i> and <i>Baltimore</i> were
+sent down to Corregidor Island to silence all the
+batteries at the entrance of Manila Bay. A flag
+of truce was sent in to the commandant at the
+island, and, on learning the truth of what had
+occurred, he agreed to surrender if the men should
+be allowed their liberty. As no prisoners were
+desired, this was satisfactory, and the men were
+placed under parole not to take up arms against
+the Americans nor to allow a gun to be fired at
+any American ship going in or out of the harbor.</p>
+
+<p>Although the majority of the Spanish vessels had
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_274">[274]</span>been destroyed, three steam tugs had been captured,
+along with the <i>Manila</i>, the ship fitted up for fighting
+purposes. During the three days following, a number
+of other vessels were taken, and, later still, a large
+Spanish war vessel, the <i>Callao</i>. The taking of the
+<i>Callao</i> was full of the grim humor that all sailors
+enjoy. She had been among the southern islands for
+many months, and knew nothing of any war having
+been declared. She steamed straight for Cavite,
+expecting to meet sister ships there, when, without
+warning, the <i>Olympia</i> fired upon her. The
+Spanish commander thought the American ship was
+indulging in target practice, and turned to steam out
+of range, when several other vessels came to the
+<i>Olympia’s</i> aid, and then the Spaniard saw that the
+whole matter was no joke, counted the American
+vessels through his glass, caught sight of the wrecks
+in Cavite harbor, and lost no time in surrendering.
+The <i>Callao</i> was a gunboat of two hundred tons,
+carrying four modern guns and a crew of forty.
+Sailors were speedily sent to take charge of the
+prize; the commander and his crew were sent ashore,
+and an hour later the stars and stripes floating above
+the <i>Callao</i> indicated that she had been added to the
+American squadron.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_275">[275]</span></p>
+
+<p>It was, of course, desirable that news of the victory
+should be sent to the United States by way of
+cable and telegraph without delay. But the only
+cable from Manila was that to Hong Kong, and that
+the Spanish held. As he could not send his own
+messages, Commodore Dewey promptly resolved that
+the Spanish should not send theirs, and he had one
+of his ships pick up the cable lying on the bottom
+of the bay and cut it. Then he prepared his
+despatches, and sent them to Hong Kong on the
+<i>McCulloch</i>.</p>
+
+<p>Larry felt that the despatch boat would soon
+leave, and anxious, now that the big battle was
+over, to learn something concerning the <i>Columbia</i>,
+he asked for permission to take the trip across the
+China Sea.</p>
+
+<p>“You can go, my lad,” said Commodore Dewey,
+for the boy had gone directly to him. “I understand
+you did very well at the gun to which you
+were assigned. When you get to Hong Kong you
+can then make up your mind as to whether or not
+you care to return. If not, you may consider
+yourself as honorably discharged from the service,”
+and then he shook hands and smiled.</p>
+
+<p>Larry had expected that Striker would accompany
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_276">[276]</span>him on the trip, but the tall down-easter declined.
+“This jest suits me to death, Larry,” he
+said. “I wouldn’t miss a day of it for a fortune.
+Don’t you forget to come back; I’ll be a-watchin’
+for you.” And an affectionate parting followed,
+for both had grown to think a great deal of each
+other.</p>
+
+<p>The trip on the <i>McCulloch</i> to Hong Kong occupied
+several days, but with nothing happening out
+of the ordinary. As the stanch despatch boat came
+in sight of the numerous shipping at the Chinese-English
+port, Larry kept his eyes wide open for a
+possible sight of the <i>Columbia</i>. He had just about
+given up hope, when he caught a glimpse of a
+hull which looked strangely familiar.</p>
+
+<p>“Will you lend me your glass for just a moment?”
+he asked of a news correspondent standing
+by. “I think that’s my ship over to our port.”</p>
+
+<p>The glasses were cheerfully loaned, and one look
+convinced Larry that he was right. There was the
+<i>Columbia</i>, somewhat battered around the bow and
+with her foremast still missing, and there, yes, there
+were Captain Ponsberry and Tom Grandon on her
+deck!</p>
+
+<p>“<i>Columbia</i>, ahoy!” he yelled at the top of his
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_277">[277]</span>lungs, but he was too far off to be heard, and had to
+content himself with locating the craft as best he
+could, while the despatch boat steamed up to the
+regular landing.</p>
+
+<p>“What’s the news?” was the first question asked
+by a hundred throats, for the vessel had been seen
+from afar.</p>
+
+<p>“Complete victory for the Americans—Spanish
+fleet utterly wiped out!” was the answer that started
+a rapid flow of conversation upon every hand. Soon
+the news was known everywhere, and scores of telegrams
+were speeding in every direction. When the
+news reached the United States, everybody was jubilant,
+and Congress voted thanks to the men who had
+taken part in the glorious contest, while Commodore
+Dewey was made Rear Admiral.</p>
+
+<p>Once on shore, Larry lost no time in making his
+way along the busy street skirting the harbor, until
+he came to the quay at which the <i>Columbia</i> was tied
+up. A rope ladder was out, and soon he was climbing
+on board.</p>
+
+<p>“Bless my soul! Is it really Larry Russell?”
+ejaculated Captain Ponsberry, when confronted.
+“Why, I thought you were at the bottom of the
+China Sea!” And he caught the boy by both hands.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_278">[278]</span></p>
+
+<p>“Larry Russell, as sure as fate!” cried Grandon,
+rushing forward. “Well, this is the most wonderful
+thing I ever heard of. How on earth did you escape
+drowning and get here?” And he, too, nearly
+wrung Larry’s hand off.</p>
+
+<p>“It’s a long story,” was the boy’s answer to both.
+“I and Luke Striker floated about until we struck
+an island, and—”</p>
+
+<p>“Then Luke is safe, too!” broke in Captain Ponsberry.
+“The Lord be praised, as the parson would
+say. It’s wonderful! simply wonderful! So ye got
+on an island, and some ship picked ye off, I calkerlate?”</p>
+
+<p>“No, we found an old boat, and set sail in it.
+But the boat went to pieces, and we floundered
+around until the Asiatic Squadron came along and
+Commodore Dewey picked us up, and—”</p>
+
+<p>“The fleet that set sail to fight the Spaniards?”
+interrupted Grandon.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes.”</p>
+
+<p>“Then the fleet’s come back here?”</p>
+
+<p>“No, only the despatch boat. The warships are
+at Manila. I was with them up to a few days ago,
+and we sunk or burned every one of the Dons’ vessels,”
+added Larry, proudly.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_279">[279]</span></p>
+
+<p>Taken together, the news was so marvellous that
+Captain Ponsberry could scarcely believe it, and
+soon he was asking Larry for all the particulars,
+which the boy was only too willing to give.</p>
+
+<p>“I reckon you would like to know what has become
+of Olan Oleson,” remarked Grandon, during a
+brief pause.</p>
+
+<p>“I would. He pushed Luke and myself overboard.”</p>
+
+<p>“The parson thought he did, and we put him in
+irons for the rest of the trip. When we got here we
+were on the point of making a complaint to the
+authorities against him, when the captain of another
+vessel had him locked up for atrocious assault. He
+is in prison now, and likely to stay there for some
+time to come.”</p>
+
+<p>“He deserves it,” was Larry’s reply. “I intended
+to make some charge against him, if I could locate
+him. I hope his term in prison does him good. I
+never want to see him again.”</p>
+
+<p>Hobson and several others now came forward, and
+were equally glad to find that the lad was safe.
+During the talk which followed Larry learned that
+the <i>Columbia</i> had had a good deal of trouble during
+the hurricanes, but had finally reached Hong Kong
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_280">[280]</span>with only the loss of the foremast and a battered
+bow, due to the falling of the heavy stick. She had
+sprung several small leaks, but her pumps had easily
+kept her free of water.</p>
+
+<p>“And the parson—where is he?” asked Larry of
+the captain.</p>
+
+<p>“He is still in Hong Kong,” was the reply, and,
+receiving the Rev. Martin Wells’ address, the boy
+took the privilege of calling upon the missionary,
+and was very warmly received.</p>
+
+<p>“Truly you have had some wonderful adventures,”
+said Mr. Wells, after listening to the youth’s
+recital. “But I take it you are rather proud of
+them—especially of your work on the <i>Olympia</i> at
+Manila.”</p>
+
+<p>And Larry, frank to the last, admitted that this
+was so.</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+
+<p>Here properly ends the tale of Larry Russell’s
+adventures “Under Dewey at Manila.” We have
+seen how fortune, by a curious combination of circumstances,
+threw him in with the Asiatic Squadron,
+and how gallantly he fought during that battle
+which, with the exception of our second great naval
+victory near Santiago Bay, has no equal in history.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_281">[281]</span>That Larry was proud at having participated in the
+glorious conquest was but natural. What American
+boy would not have been proud?</p>
+
+<p>The <i>McCulloch</i> was to return to Manila Bay with
+despatches almost immediately, and the boy was
+strongly tempted to go back in her. But he wished
+first to hear from his brothers, and so resolved to
+stay in Hong Kong until the despatch boat might
+make a second trip to that port. Of his future adventures
+we shall hear later on.</p>
+
+<p>In the mean time, however, I would ask my young
+readers who have followed me through the foregoing
+pages, to transfer their attention for a while to Ben
+Russell, Larry’s oldest brother. As Ben had written
+in his letter, he had preferred the soldiery, and on
+the President’s first call for 125,000 volunteers, he
+had given up his position in New York, and joined
+the army. The haps and mishaps of the youth will
+be related in another volume, to be entitled “A
+Young Volunteer in Cuba; or, Fighting for the
+Single Star.” In this book we shall not only
+become intimately acquainted with Ben, but we
+shall also catch glimpses of Larry and of the other
+brother, Walter, who had gone into the navy stationed
+in Atlantic waters. We shall likewise learn
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_282">[282]</span>something more of Job Dowling, and of what was
+done by the boys toward getting that which was
+justly due them from their miserly step-uncle.</p>
+
+<p>And now, for the time being, good-by to Larry
+Russell, the American sailor boy who served so gallantly
+“Under Dewey at Manila.”</p>
+
+
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p class="noi adseries2">THE OLD GLORY SERIES.</p>
+
+<p class="noi author">By EDWARD STRATEMEYER,</p>
+
+<p class="noic works"><i>Author of “The Bound to Succeed Series,” “The Ship and Shore Series,” etc.</i></p>
+
+<p class="noic smfont">Three Volumes. Cloth. Illustrated. Price per volume, $1.25.</p>
+
+<ul>
+<li class="hang2">UNDER DEWEY AT MANILA Or the War Fortunes of
+a Castaway.</li>
+
+<li class="hang2">A YOUNG VOLUNTEER IN CUBA Or Fighting for the
+Single Star.</li>
+
+<li class="hang2">FIGHTING IN CUBAN WATERS Or Under Schley on
+the Brooklyn.</li>
+</ul>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="r30">
+
+<div class="citefont">
+<p class="noic">PRESS NOTICES.</p>
+
+<p>“‘Under Dewey at Manila’ is a thoroughly timely book, in perfect sympathy with
+the patriotism of the day. Its title is conducive to its perusing, and its reading to
+anticipation. For the volume is but the first of the Old Glory Series, and the imprint
+is that of the famed firm of Lee and Shepard, whose name has been for so many
+years linked with the publications of Oliver Optic. As a matter of fact, the story is
+right in line with the productions of that gifted and most fascinating of authors, and
+certainly there is every cause for congratulation that the stirring events of our recent
+war are not to lose their value for instruction through that valuable school which the
+late William T. Adams made so individually distinctive.</p>
+
+<p>“Edward Stratemeyer, who is the author of the present work, has proved an extraordinarily
+apt scholar, and had the book appeared anonymously there could hardly
+have failed of a unanimous opinion that a miracle had enabled the writer of the
+famous Army and Navy and other series to resume his pen for the volume in hand.
+Mr. Stratemeyer has acquired in a wonderfully successful degree the knack of writing
+an interesting educational story which will appeal to the young people, and the
+plan of his trio of books as outlined cannot fail to prove both interesting and valuable.”—<cite>Boston Ideas.</cite></p>
+
+
+<p class="p2">“Stratemeyer’s style suits the boys.”—<span class="smcap">John Terhune</span>, <i>Supt. of Public Instruction,
+Bergen Co., New Jersey</i>.</p>
+
+
+<p class="p2">“‘The Young Volunteer in Cuba,’ the second of the Old Glory Series, is better
+than the first; perhaps it traverses more familiar ground. Ben Russell, the brother
+of Larry, who was ‘with Dewey,’ enlists with the volunteers and goes to Cuba,
+where he shares in the abundance of adventure and has a chance to show his courage
+and honesty and manliness, which win their reward. A good book for boys, giving
+a good deal of information in a most attractive form.”—<cite>Universalist Leader.</cite></p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="r30">
+
+<p class="noic smfont"><i>For sale by all booksellers, or sent, postpaid, on receipt of price by</i></p>
+
+<p class="noic"><span class="adauthor">LEE &amp; SHEPARD, Publishers,</span><br>
+BOSTON.</p>
+
+
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p class="noi adseries2">THE SHIP AND SHORE SERIES</p>
+
+<p class="noi author">By EDWARD STRATEMEYER.</p>
+
+<p class="noic smfont">Three Volumes. Cloth. Illustrated. Price per volume, $1.00.</p>
+
+
+<ul>
+<li class="hang2">THE LAST CRUISE OF THE SPITFIRE Or Luke
+Foster’s Strange Voyage.</li>
+
+<li class="hang2">REUBEN STONE’S DISCOVERY Or The Young
+Miller of Torrent Bend.</li>
+
+<li class="hang2">TRUE TO HIMSELF Or Roger Strong’s Struggle
+for Place. (<i>In press.</i>)</li>
+</ul>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="r30">
+
+<div class="citefont">
+
+<p class="noic">PRESS OPINIONS OF EDWARD STRATEMEYER’S BOOKS FOR YOUNG
+PEOPLE.</p>
+
+
+<p>“Mr. Edward Stratemeyer is in danger of becoming very popular among the
+young people of the country.”—<cite>Burlington</cite> (Iowa) <cite>Hawk-eye</cite>.</p>
+
+
+<p class="p2">“‘The Last Cruise of the Spitfire’ is of deep interest to the bounding heart of an
+enthusiastic boy. The book leaves a good impression on a boy’s mind, as it teaches
+the triumph of noble deeds and true heroism.”—<cite>Kansas City</cite> (Mo.) <cite>Times</cite>.</p>
+
+
+<p class="p2">“Let us mention in passing two admirable books for boys, ‘Reuben Stone’s Discovery’
+and ‘Oliver Bright’s Search,’ by Edward Stratemeyer, with whom we are
+all acquainted. This last bit of his work is especially good, and the boy who gets
+one of these volumes will become very popular among his fellows until the book is
+worn threadbare.”—<cite>N. Y. Herald.</cite></p>
+
+
+<p class="p2">“A good sea-tale for boys is ‘The Last Cruise of the Spitfire,’ by Edward Stratemeyer.
+There is plenty of adventure in it, a shipwreck, a cruise on a raft, and other
+stirring perils of the deep.”—<cite>Detroit</cite> (Mich.) <cite>Journal</cite>.</p>
+
+
+<p class="p2">“In a simple, plain, straightforward manner, Mr. Edward Stratemeyer endeavors
+to show his boy readers what persistency, honesty, and willingness to work have
+accomplished for his young hero, and his moral is evident. Mr. Stratemeyer is very
+earnest and sincere in his portraiture of young character beginning to shape itself to
+weather against the future. A book of this sort is calculated to interest boys, to feed
+their ambition with hope, and to indicate how they must fortify themselves against
+the wiles of vice.”—<cite>Boston Herald.</cite></p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="r30">
+
+<p class="noic smfont"><i>For sale by all booksellers, or sent, postpaid, on receipt of price by</i></p>
+
+<p class="noic"><span class="adauthor">LEE &amp; SHEPARD, Publishers,</span><br>
+BOSTON.</p>
+
+
+
+
+<hr class="chap">
+<div class="tnote">
+<p class="noi tntitle">Transcriber’s Notes:</p>
+
+<p class="smfont">Punctuation and spelling inaccuracies were silently corrected.</p>
+
+<p class="smfont">Archaic and variable spelling has been preserved.</p>
+
+<p class="smfont">Variations in hyphenation and compound words have been preserved.</p>
+</div>
+<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78934 ***</div>
+</body>
+</html>
+
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+This book, including all associated images, markup, improvements,
+metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be
+in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES.
+
+Procedures for determining public domain status are described in
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+
+No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in
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+[Project Gutenberg](https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for eBook [#78934](https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/78934)