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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9f57f44 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,13 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text +*.htm text +*.html text +*.png binary +*.jpg binary +*.svg text +*.pdf binary +*.bmp binary +*.zip binary +*.midi binary +*.mp3 binary diff --git a/78934-0.txt b/78934-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..4ce9f62 --- /dev/null +++ b/78934-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,6595 @@ +*** 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 *** diff --git a/78934-h/78934-h.htm b/78934-h/78934-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..77b8f8a --- /dev/null +++ b/78934-h/78934-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,9200 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html lang="en"> +<head> + <meta charset="UTF-8"> + <meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width, initial-scale=1"> + <meta name="format-detection" content="telephone=no,date=no,address=no,email=no,url=no"> + + <title> + Under Dewey at Manila | Project Gutenberg + </title> + + <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> + + <style> + +/* DACSoft styles */ + +body { + margin-left: 10%; 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+} + +.adseries { + font-size: 1.25em; + text-align: center; + clear: both; +} + +.adseries2 { + font-size: 1.5em; + text-align: center; + clear: both; +} + +.adauthor { + font-size: 1.25em; + text-align: center; + clear: both; +} + +/* Hanging indent. */ +.hang { + text-indent: -2em; + padding-left: 3em; +} + +.hang2 { + text-indent: -2em; + padding-left: 1em; +} + + </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    Illustrated    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    Cloth    Illustrated    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    Cloth    Illustrated    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 & Co.—Berwick & 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> </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 & 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 & 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> + diff --git a/78934-h/images/cover.jpg b/78934-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b675147 --- /dev/null +++ b/78934-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/78934-h/images/cover_sm.jpg b/78934-h/images/cover_sm.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..e16c9d6 --- /dev/null +++ b/78934-h/images/cover_sm.jpg diff --git a/78934-h/images/i_chdeco.jpg b/78934-h/images/i_chdeco.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..1aa60dc --- /dev/null +++ b/78934-h/images/i_chdeco.jpg diff --git a/78934-h/images/i_fp044.jpg b/78934-h/images/i_fp044.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..281ccf4 --- /dev/null +++ b/78934-h/images/i_fp044.jpg diff --git a/78934-h/images/i_fp095.jpg b/78934-h/images/i_fp095.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ce15cb5 --- /dev/null +++ b/78934-h/images/i_fp095.jpg diff --git a/78934-h/images/i_fp130.jpg b/78934-h/images/i_fp130.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ceb14b3 --- /dev/null +++ b/78934-h/images/i_fp130.jpg diff --git a/78934-h/images/i_fp152.jpg b/78934-h/images/i_fp152.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..00f1590 --- /dev/null +++ b/78934-h/images/i_fp152.jpg diff --git a/78934-h/images/i_fp174.jpg b/78934-h/images/i_fp174.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..1ffa06a --- /dev/null +++ b/78934-h/images/i_fp174.jpg diff --git a/78934-h/images/i_fp215.jpg b/78934-h/images/i_fp215.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..23ad411 --- /dev/null +++ b/78934-h/images/i_fp215.jpg diff --git a/78934-h/images/i_fp263.jpg b/78934-h/images/i_fp263.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..cb1d143 --- /dev/null +++ b/78934-h/images/i_fp263.jpg diff --git a/78934-h/images/i_frontispiece.jpg b/78934-h/images/i_frontispiece.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..3095f6b --- /dev/null +++ b/78934-h/images/i_frontispiece.jpg diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6c72794 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +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 +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ef8d5f4 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1 @@ +[Project Gutenberg](https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for eBook [#78934](https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/78934) |
