Part 9 (1/2)
[Illustration: FLIGHT OF THE TORPEDO BOAT (Page 158)]
XIX
DEATH shi+PS OF THE SEA
A thick fog rose from the sea, as we stole away in the darkness with the torpedo boat We had no distinguishi+ng lights and every sound was ainst the tell-tale sparks of soft coal The spume of the sea fell over our forward deck in flecks, and the waves splashed at our bow The harbor lights of Panalow of sickly yellow
An officer stood by the hooded binnacle, watching our course by the faint glow of a tiny la us at 17 knots an hour and ere headed for Mollendo
We had no arovernainst the Chilean cruiser was a clean pair of heels
Suddenly, the eye of a search-light opened, and sent a long glea around and rested for afroed its color from a black to a fiery red It rested there a moment, then closed and all was darkness The tu rush of projectiles, as they struck the water and exploded by impact, or shrieked in ricochet overhead
The brave officer at the binnacle fell to the deck, hish by a sharpened blade Fire darted up frounners the correctness of their ailare and showed the bodies of two others on the forward deck bathed in blood Another officer coolly took his place at the binnacle and directed a change in the course of the boat
The spurting jets of fire froht to those on board the gaunt blackon the black waves, we crowded on every ounce of stea ca off the sea and showed us the hull of the cruiser, loo up out of the purple er line By noon we had gained a little, and again, with the approach of night, the fog began to rise and soon enveloped us in its grey cloak But that beacon light fronals to the ene lifted again, there was the vampire even nearer than before
The nervous strain was telling on our crew The day before we joked and laughed--ould outrun hilare froht have stolen into some cove and let him pass us in the dark, but for that He did not waste shot any his way He could afford to wait The third day the creorn and silent They had the look of desperation in their faces, as they threw furtive glances back at the spectre, the shi+p of Death--The Black Coffin--we called hih noon, we met an Aave cheer after cheer in syreyhound of the sea was chasing the rabbit he had bitten and ht the nervous strain had become almost a frenzy Then to add to our peril, the coal in the bunkers was running low Sonal still flashed froht we called it our funeral candle The sky was clear now and the stars were shi+ning We could see lights flash now and then through the haze of the sea When , black, hideous--still in our wake
Coal for eightwould happen; help must come, out of the sea, out of the sky, out of somewhere, only it must come The sea was smooth; not a shi+p could be seen on the horizon All on board were in restless anxiety Only coal for three more hours
We were now off Ecuador The officer in command called the crew
”We shall have to surrender the boat,” he said
The assistant engineer, two stokers and myself, all of us British, shouted ”Never! We are not here to lay in a Chilean prison and perhaps be shot! We beach the boat!” Our emphasis was our drawn revolvers
Without a word, the officer headed the boat for the shore We gathered up a few edibles and e grounded the boat, swaered for some time after all were ashore, then hurried over her sides and ht sailors to each side of rowlocks, an ensign and a party of marines They rowed rapidly to the torpedo boat and half of them climbed on board, when her sides parted and a terrific fla the bodies of a dozen men The officer had lit the fuse that did the work
Ten days afterwards the two stokers, assistant engineer and ed, went on board the British ruff old captain
”Get below in the stoke-hole and black up,” he said, ”the Chilean government offers five thousand dollars reward for each of you If we are searched you are stokers”
Meanwhile, on board another shi+p far to the north were aching hearts
Hattie's aged mother fell ill when two days out from Panama and the next day she passed away Rules required that the body be buried at sea It was a solehile all that was ed mother rested on a plank, one end of which was held by a sailor Slowly the chaplain read the beautiful service The shi+p was stopped Not a sound was heard and the ht moon was hidden by clouds ”Therefore we commit this body to the deep,” was pronounced The plank was raised and the body ed up in the cavernous depths of the ocean
Hattie leaned upon the arm of Mr Robinson, who tenderly escorted her to the cabin when the rites were over To her the world was gloomy and desolate, her sister but recently buried in far away Arequipa and the mother now in the sea With a fortitude beyond her years the Christian girl bore bravely her deep sorrows, trusting in His well” When the shi+p reached the open roadstead of Port Harford, and she again landed on the shores of her native California, she went to her fore in San Louis Obispo
It was here I found her some weeks after I assumed the role of stoker on the British one to his former home in Missouri, but Hattie was protected by relatives We talked of our coe It was not possible at that tie froold of California, that I needed time to replenish my almost depleted purse