Part 26 (1/2)
Black had not noticed me during the episode of the torpedo, but he turned round now, and, seeing that I stood near him, he beckoned me into the conning-tower with him. It was a chamber lined with steel with a small gla.s.s for the look-out, and electric k.n.o.bs which allowed communication with the engine-rooms, the wheel, the turrets, and the magazines. From that pinnacle of metal you could navigate the s.h.i.+p, and there Black fought the battle of that night and of the days following.
And as I stood at his side I learned from his running comments much of the course of the fight.
”Boy,” he said, ”what I'm worth I'm going to show this night; and, as your eyes are younger than mine, I'm going to borrow the loan of them.
That hen-coop yonder with the Government flag on her isn't far from company, you may be pretty sure. She's help near, and from that help I'm going to cut her off, and quick. Take your stand here by me, and watch the seas while I manage the light.”
He had his hand upon a little tap which enabled him to throw the arc upon every point of the horizon, and, as the light travelled, he asked me--
”Do you make out anything? Is there more of 'em at her heels?”
”Nothing that I can see; she seems alone.”
”Then G.o.d help her, though we're only running two engines. Now watch the shot.”
The focus was then upon the cruiser, whose own light kept playing upon the horizon as though searching for a convoy she awaited. But when the conning-tower shook with the thunder of our fore gun, the other reeled, and her arc light went out with a great flash.
”That's a hit,” I exclaimed with ridiculous want of control; ”I believe you've hit her abaft the funnel. Yes, I can see the list on her; you've hit her clean.”
His face never moved at the intelligence, but he rang the order ”Hard to port!” and we weathered round, showing our aft turret to the enemy, whose bark for the moment was stilled.
”Watch again,” said Black, as he rang to the turret chamber, and the aft gun roared; but I could not see that the shot struck, and I told him so.
”I'll give that parson a dozen if he does that again,” he remarked, unmoved by the crash of a shot which struck us right under our turret.
Then he took a cigar and spoke between his teeth when he had lighted it--
”There's twelve inches of steel there,” he said with a laugh; ”let 'em knock on it and welcome. Don't you smoke?--I always do; it keeps my head clear.”
Two more shots, one right above the engine-room and the second at the ram, answered his levity.
”Come on, you devils!” he blurted out with glee. ”Come in and dance, by thunder, while I play ye the tune! Now hearken to it.”
We came up again, and fired at the cruiser, hitting her right under the funnel, and a second time near her fore gun, so that you could see her reel and s.h.i.+ver even under the rays of the search-light. Nor did she answer our firing, but rolled to the swell apparently out of action.
All this I could see, and I answered the skipper's hurried and anxious questions as every fresh movement was visible.
”What's she doing, eh?” he asked. ”Did that stop her? Is she coaling up, or does she signal? Lord, if I had the oil I'd sweep the sea from New York to Queenstown. What is it, boy?--why don't you answer me?”
”You don't give me time; but I can see now. She's coaling up, and there are men forward working with oars.”
”Do you say that?” he said, pus.h.i.+ng me away from the gla.s.s. ”Do you say that she's coaling? By thunder, you're right! We'll have her oil yet; and then let them as come after me look to themselves!”
As he said the last word he stepped from the conning-tower on to the bridge, and I followed him.
There, at the distance of a third of a mile away on the starboard bow, was the crippled cruiser, helpless by her look; and our light fell full upon her, showing men in great activity upon her decks, and others running forward as though there were danger also in the fo'castle. The night around us was very dark, and the huge, heaving swell shone black as pitch in mountains and cavities below the gallery. We two were alone there upon the ocean, finis.h.i.+ng that terrible duel--if, indeed, the end had not come, as I thought from the silence of the other.
”Skipper, are you going aboard her now?” asked the man ”Roaring John,”
who came to us on the bridge. ”She's done by her looks, and you'll get no oil if ye delay. Karl there, he ain't as comfortable as if he were in his bed.”
The little German was very far from it. He was almost desperate when minute by minute his stock of oil grew less; and he ran from one to the other, as though we had grease in our pockets, and could give it to him.