CHAPTER V.
THE CHASE.
Bill Jones found time to change his opinion as to the speedytermination of the war after the _Merrimac_ had been sunk at theentrance of Santiago Bay.
Instead of displaying any anxiety to surrender, the Spaniards on theisland appeared to be making every preparation for a stubborn defence,and the fleet of war-vessels had little opportunity to do much morethan blockade duty.
Teddy Dunlap, looked upon by the crew of the _Texas_ as a lad who hadevery right to be among them, might have enjoyed this cruising to andfro, keeping watch over the entrance to the harbour, now and thenoverhauling a suspicious-looking vessel that ventured too near, and attimes throwing shells ashore from the big guns, but for the fact thathe burned with impatience to be with his father.
The _Brooklyn_ remained in view nearly all the time, now so close athand that it seemed as if the two ships must immediately come withinhailing distance, and again so far away that she appeared only as atiny speck against the white sky, yet the stowaway was as completelyseparated from his father as if they were thousands of miles apart.
"If only the captains couldn't talk with those little flags, it mightbe that the ships would come side by side!" he said, with a long-drawnsigh, to Bill Jones. "There'll never be any need for them to sailnearer than within sight, an' I won't get a chance to speak tofather,--perhaps not this year."
"The prospect don't look very encouragin' just at the present time,an' that's a fact," Bill said, thoughtfully, filling his pipe withunusual care. "Two or three days ago it seemed as if the war wasmighty nigh at an end; but now there 'pears to be a good deal of fightleft in the Dagoes."
"An' while we're loafin' 'round here, Captain Miller will come aboardsome fine day. Then where'll I be?"
"Right here, my lad, an' there's no use lookin' ahead. He won't comethe sooner, or stay away any longer, no matter how much you fuss, sowhy not save the wear an' tear of thinkin'?"
"See here," and Teddy leaned forward to look the little sailor full inthe eyes, "do you believe I'll ever have a chance of lettin' daddyknow where I am?"
"It stands to reason there must be a show for it in course of time."
"When?"
"Now you're askin' me a question I ain't in condition to answer. Itmay be two or three weeks, or, then again, the show might come sudden,within an hour. At sea you can't ever tell what's goin' to happen,Teddy Dunlap, an' there's nothin' for it but to keep your ears an'eyes open all the time, ready to jump on the first promisin' chancethat comes your way."
There is no good reason why such a conversation as this should be setdown, save that it is similar to a hundred others which were heldbetween the two comrades during the weeks which followed the sinkingof the _Merrimac_, when Teddy Dunlap, without effort on his part, wastransformed from a stowaway to a lad apparently in the employ of UncleSam.
Never for a single moment did he lose sight of the possible fact thateither the _Brooklyn_ or the _Texas_ might be ordered away from thisparticular station, in which case it was reasonable to suppose thatmany months must elapse before he could inform his father of hiswhereabouts.
There was grave danger the two might be separated so widely thatmonths, perhaps years, would elapse before they could meet again, andTeddy was never comfortable in mind, but, despite all the good advicegiven by Bill Jones, continued to look out into the future, searchingfor trouble.
Meanwhile both he and the little sailor were kept at work on board the_Texas_ exactly as if they had been regularly enlisted; but the dutieswere so light among such a large number, that he who complained of thework must indeed have been an indolent fellow.
And while Teddy worried over his own seeming troubles, the twonations continued at war, killing and wounding men at everyopportunity, and ever striving to strike some decisive blow.
As a matter of course Teddy and Bill Jones took their small part inthe bombardment of the batteries at the entrance to Santiago Harbourtwo days after the _Merrimac_ had been sunk.
The _Texas_ was the third vessel in the first column, headed by the_Brooklyn_, when, shortly after sunrise, the fleet steamed inshore andopened fire with the heavy guns.
It was to the boy as if he went into action almost by the side of hisfather, and he worked with a will at whatsoever was set him to do,although at times the terrific roar literally stunned him, while theheat was so great that it seemed as if he was on the verge ofsuffocation during every moment of the four hours the bombardmentcontinued.
Then the squadron steamed back to its blockading station, and at notime had the _Brooklyn_ and _Texas_ been so near each other as to haverendered it possible for Teddy to see his father, even though thelatter had stood on the battle-ship's deck every moment.
Again and again, as the days passed, did the _Texas_ go into action,and at no time were the little stowaway and his small comrade remissin their duties.
They did their full share of the work, despite Bill Jones's assertionthat he was only a "plain, every-day sailor with no fightin' timberabout him," and as the weeks wore on these two became more and moreclosely identified with the battle-ship to which chance had sent them.
When the ship was sent to bombard the works at Matamoras, and aSpanish shell struck near the stern on the port side, passing throughthe hull three feet below the main-deck line, and exploding on theberth-deck, killing one man and wounding eight, Teddy's search for hisfather nearly came to an end.
A fragment of the shell passed within ten inches of the boy's head,striking down a sailor just beyond him, and Teddy won the admirationof every man on board by springing to the relief of the poor fellowwhose leg had been shattered, instead of taking flight, as might quitenaturally have been expected.
Later, when the _Texas_ had withdrawn from the action, man after mancongratulated the lad upon his behaviour, predicting that he would intime prove himself worthy of serving under such a commander as CaptainPhilip, and otherwise bestowing so much praise that at the firstopportunity he said confidentially to Bill Jones:
"It makes me ashamed to have them say so much about how I acted. Itwasn't different from what any other feller would have done, becauseI forgot all about the danger when Baker fell."
"I'm thinkin' you're out of your reckonin' there, lad, for accordin'to my idee, there ain't a boy in a thousand who'd handled himself aswell as you did. Now I'm no fightin' man, as I've said before, butyour keepin' such a stiff upper lip, when there was precious goodchance of bein' killed, did me solid good. I knew you had sand, fromthe first minute of settin' eyes on you, but never suspected there wasso much of it."
"You're talkin' worse than the others, even when I'm tellin' the truthabout not knowin' there was any danger. I only saw poor Baker, an'thought I might help him."
"It ain't what you thought, lad, but what you did, that counts, an'now if Captain Miller comes aboard I'm willin' to guarantee he won'tbe allowed to kick up any row because of your stowin' away on the_Merrimac_. The crew wouldn't allow any funny business with you, afterthis day's work. Don't you see how much nearer your father we are thanwe were this mornin'?"
"What do you mean?"
"Just what I say, lad. You've made for yourself a standin' on boardthis ship, an' now when the time comes right I'm goin' to tell yourstory to one of the petty officers, askin' him to see it reachesCaptain Philip's ears. Once that's been done, Teddy Dunlap, we'll behailin' the _Brooklyn_ with signals flyin' to tell the coal-passersthat one of 'em has got a son on board this craft."
"Do you suppose any such plan might work?" Teddy asked, breathlessly.
"There ain't a shadow of doubt about it in my mind."
"Why don't you do it now? I've given up hopin' this war is pretty nearat an end, an' am hungry to see daddy."
"Better wait awhile longer, my boy. It's a little too soon to showourselves very big, 'cause it ain't no ways certain the captain hashad time to hear of what you did. We'll hold off a spell, an' then,when the signs come right, you'll see me put this b
usiness along ingreat shape."
Because of this promise, and also owing to the many words of praisewhich were showered upon him by the men, Teddy Dunlap believed, as hehad several times before, that the hour was very near at hand when hewould be with his father once more; but, as in the past, he was doomedto disappointment during more days than he cared to count.
The "signs" never came so nearly right as to give Bill Jones courageto take the responsibility of telling Teddy's story to those who wouldrepeat it to Captain Philip, and these two refugees from the_Merrimac_ remained aboard the _Texas_, much to the satisfaction ofthe crew.
It was known to them, as to every one on the warships, that hotfighting was going on ashore in the vicinity of Santiago, and atfrequent intervals the big vessels steamed toward the land, in thisdirection or that, to shell the Spanish camps; but they were at such adistance from the scene of action that such work had little theappearance of warfare.
In fact, the air of plain, every-day business about the operationsrendered it difficult to believe the huge shot and shell which werehurled landward carried in their wake death and destruction to many.
When one of the _Texas's_ big guns was discharged, Teddy could hearthe roar, and feel the concussion, as a matter of course; he couldalso see the missile as it sped through the air; but he had no meansof knowing where it struck, neither did he have a view of thedesolation and ruin it caused, therefore, like many another man aboardthe battle-ship, he came to look upon this work of war as nothing morethan harmless practice.
The day was near at hand, however, when the stowaway and his littlecomrade were to have all too good a view of the butchery andinhumanity of war.
It was on Sunday morning, the third day of July.
The crew of the _Texas_ had been mustered for religious services, andwhile Bill Jones and Teddy waited in their proper places for thecoming of the chaplain, the sailor whispered:
"To-morrow mornin' I'm goin' to start in on your business, lad. So faras I can see, the fleet is likely to be here a year or more before theSpaniards are ready to surrender Santiago, and if I don't bring you tothe captain's notice soon, all your good behaviour when the shot cameaboard will have been forgotten."
"I'm afraid we've waited too long already," the lad replied, with asigh, for the hope had been so long deferred that his "heart was sick"indeed for a sight of his father.
"I reckon not, Teddy; but if I've made a mistake in holdin' off, itwas done through fear I might speak too soon."
"Don't think I'm blamin' you," the boy replied, quickly, pressing hiscomrade's arm in a friendly fashion. "If you never did anything more,I'd feel as if you'd been mighty good to me, for I couldn't have runacross many sailors who'd lay themselves out to help a stowaway."
"That part of it is--"
Bill Jones was interrupted by a shout,--Teddy will never know whouttered it, or what the words were,--and instantly, without theslightest apparent cause, all was seeming confusion on board the ship.
It was to the lad as if the very air bristled with excitement; he sawmen darting here and there, heard sharp, quick words of command, andas if at the very same instant, the _Texas_ seemed to leap forwardwith a bound, huge clouds of black smoke suddenly pouring out of herstacks.
"The Spaniards! The Spaniards!" Bill Jones yelled in the lad's ear, atthe same time pointing toward the entrance to the harbour, from out ofwhich could be seen the dark hull of an enemy's ship.
It was as if in that small fraction of time very much took place.
Teddy saw long lines of signal-flags run up to the _Brooklyn's_masthead; he heard the roar of a 6-pounder as the _Iowa_ fired thefirst shot at the foe, and understood, rather than saw, that everyvessel in the squadron was under a full head of steam almostimmediately.
At one instant the blockading squadron lay motionless and apparentlylifeless off the harbour, rocking lazily on the long swell, and then,before one could speak, as it were, every listless hull was a warmachine, quivering with life, and pouring forth deadly shot and shell.
The transformation was so sudden and complete that it is little wonderTeddy and Bill Jones stood transfixed with astonishment until thechase was well under way.
One after another of the Spanish cruisers came at full speed out ofthe harbour which it had been believed was closed by the hull of the_Merrimac_, and as each ship rounded the point her guns weredischarged at the Yankee squadron. The dense smoke pouring out oftheir stacks; the clouds of spray from their bows, glistening likediamonds in the sunlight of that Sabbath morning as it was thrown aftby the fierce impetus of the huge vessels to mingle with the smokethat came from every gun; the roar and thunder of the discharges; theshrieking of the missiles, and the spouting of water as the metal fellshort, made up a scene of war in its most terrific phase.
On the other side, three battle-ships and an armoured cruiser dashingforward at the full speed of their engines; the heavy reverberationsof guns; black clouds and white of smoke from coal and from burningpowder; men stripped to the waist and working at the pieces with afury, haste, and energy that could not have been increased had eachindividual member of the crew been fighting against a personal foe,and words of command, encouragement, or hope, which were heard onevery hand, thrilled the boy who had trembled before the supposedwrath of a collier's captain, until each nerve was tingling withexcitement,--each pulse bounding with the hot blood that leaped infeverish throbs from artery to artery.
Teddy Dunlap was in the very midst of what but few had ever seen,--asea-battle with the mightiest ships in the world as combatants.
It was while the lad and his elderly comrade stood like statues,gazing at the wondrous, terrible sight around them, that the formersaw a huge shell leave the turret of the _Iowa_, rise on the arc of acircle in the air, cleaving its way directly toward the _Teresa_, theforemost of the fleeing ships.
Teddy was still following the missile with his eyes when it struck theSpaniard's hull, cutting its way through as if no resistance wasoffered, and it seemed that the huge mass had but just disappearedwhen great volumes of smoke and flame burst from the aperture made bythe shell, telling that the first of the enemy's fleet was alreadyvanquished.
Then came a mighty yell from every man aboard the _Texas_ as well asthe _Iowa_, for the gun had been aimed with a precision worthy aYankee gunner whose forefathers, perhaps, had been forced to shootaccurately in order to save their scalps from the lurking Indian.
This cry of satisfaction had not yet died away when the _Maria Teresa_was headed for the beach, with smoke and flame enveloping all herafter part,--a wreck before she had more than cleared the harbour'smouth.
"There's one of 'em done for, an' in short order!" Bill Jonesscreamed, dancing to and fro like a crazy person, and if he made anyfurther remark Teddy failed to hear it, because of the cheers oftriumph which came from every vessel in the American fleet.
The enemy had counted on cutting his way through the blockadingsquadron, but the first of his vessels had come to grief before thechase was fairly begun.
As the _Teresa_ swung round in order to gain shoal water before thefire should completely envelop her, Teddy saw two small, swift,low-lying steamers come out from behind her with a speed which seemedlike that of the wind, and the little sailor cried, in tones nearlyresembling fear:
"There are the destroyers! The _Pluton_ and _Furor_! Our ships are notspeedy enough to keep out of their way! Now is the Spaniard's chanceto pay for the loss of the _Teresa_!"
Teddy had heard of these torpedo-boats, and knew what it was possiblefor them to do unless, perchance, they might be checked at long range,and yet the commanders of the Yankee battle-ships apparently gave noheed to the dangerous enemies which had been designed for the solepurpose of destroying such as they.
Straight toward the _Brooklyn_ these formidable craft were headed, andthe stowaway involuntarily cried aloud in terror, for was not hisfather on board that vessel which appeared to be in such peril?
Then, coming up swiftly, as a hawk darts ou
t upon its prey, the ladsaw the little yacht _Gloucester_ swim directly inshore to meet thesemighty engines of destruction, when one well-directed shot from theirguns would have sent her to the bottom, crushed out of all semblanceof a vessel.
At that moment Teddy and Bill Jones saw what much resembled the attackof a fly upon two huge spiders.
The tiny _Gloucester_ steamed straight down upon the destroyers,cutting them off from their intended prey, and pelting them withshells from her small 6-pounders, but doing the work with suchaccuracy and precision of aim that it seemed as if the battle was nomore than begun before these two mighty machines turned toward theshore to follow the _Teresa_, but sinking even while one could saythey were beaten.
"Hurrah for Wainwright! Bully little _Gloucester_!"
Two hundred voices rose high with shouts of triumph and exultationthat the Yankee gunners had not only done their work well, but withbravery such as could not be excelled, and meanwhile the big shipswent tearing madly on lest the _Vizcaya_, the _Cristobal Colon_, andthe _Almirante Oquendo_, all that were left of the Spanish fleet,should escape them.
The _Iowa_ and the _Texas_ had selected the _Vizcaya_ as their prey,and while the remainder of the fleet stretched away in pursuit of theother ships, these two cut off the big Spaniard, forcing her to fightwhether she liked or not.
Teddy and Bill Jones stood on the port side of the _Texas_, allunconscious that they were exposed to any chance shot the Spaniardmight send aboard, and realising nothing save the fever of battle. Theodour of burning powder was in their nostrils, and life or death,danger or safety were alike the same.
The _Texas_ literally reeled under their feet as her big guns weredischarged full at the _Vizcaya_, which ship was hurling shot andshell with reckless rapidity and inaccuracy of aim.
The roar of the pieces was like the crashing of thunder; thevibrations of the air smote one like veritable blows, and enormoussmoke clouds rolled here and there, now shutting off all view, andagain lifting to reveal the enemy in his desperate but ill-directedflight.
"Can we sink her?" Teddy asked once, when the two comrades were soclosely enveloped by the pungent vapour that it was impossible todistinguish objects five feet away, and the little sailor cried, in adelirium of excitement:
"Sink her, lad? That's what we're bound to do!"
"She is workin' her guns for all they are worth, an' I've heard itsaid that even a ship like this would go down if a big shell struckfairly."
"Ay, lad, an' so she would, I reckon; but we'll have yonder Spaniardunder the water before her gunners can get the range. Every shot ofours is hittin' its mark, an' they're not comin' within half a mile ofus! Sink her! We'll--"
Even as Bill Jones spoke, the 12-inch gun in the _Texas's_ forwardturret was discharged. The smoke rolled aside at the same instant, andthe two watchers saw a huge shell dart forth, speeding directly towardthe ship that had so lately been a friendly visitor in the harbour ofNew York.
It struck its mark fairly, crashed through the iron plating as ifthrough paper, and then Teddy saw the mighty vessel reel under herdeath-stroke when the shell exploded.
Another howl of triumph; half naked men danced to and fro in theirexcitement; the gunners rushed out from the turrets gasping forbreath, but yelling with savage joy, and the _Vizcaya's_ bow washeaded toward the shore!
The fourth vessel of the enemy's fleet had been disabled, and thereonly remained the two mighty ships in the distance, from thesmoke-stacks of which poured forth long rolls of black smoke, fleckedwith sparks and burning brands, that told of the desperate effortsbeing made to escape.
CHAPTER VI.
TEDDY'S DADDY.
The _Maria Teresa_ and the _Vizcaya_ were in flames, heading for shoalwater that they might not carry down with their blackened hulks themen who had defended them, although feebly, and there was no longerany reason why the _Texas_ should remain in that vicinity.
The _Iowa_ swung inshore to make certain the ruin was as complete asit appeared from the distance, and when the royal ensign was hauleddown that a white flag might be hoisted on the _Vizcaya_, CaptainPhilip gave the word which sent the _Texas_ ahead in chase after thesurvivors of what had, less than half an hour previous, been a mightyfleet.
As one who witnessed the battle has already written concerning thisparticular time and the wonderfully one-sided engagement, his wordshad best be quoted:
"Huge volumes of black smoke, edged with red flame, rolled from everyport and shot-hole of the _Vizcaya_, as from the _Teresa_. They wereboth furnaces of glowing fire. Though they had come from the harbourto certain battle, not a wooden bulkhead, not a partition in thequarters either of officers or men had been taken out, nor had trunksand chests been sent ashore. Neither had the wooden decks or any otherwooden fixtures been prepared to resist fire. Apparently the crew hadnot even wet down the decks."
It was the experience of a full lifetime, to witness the destructionof these four fighting-machines, and yet Teddy Dunlap and his littlecomrade almost forgot what they had seen in the excitement of therace, as their ship leaped forward in that mad chase which was to endonly with the wrecking of all those vessels that had sailed out of theharbour to make their way past the Yankee fleet.
The two comrades were conscious of nothing save the throbbing andquivering of their own ship, as, under press of every ounce of steamthat could be raised, the _Texas_ dashed onward, overhauling firstthis Yankee vessel and then that, flinging the spray in showers overher deck, and rolling from side to side in the heavy swell as she toreonward at a rate of speed that probably she had never before equalled.
It was a race to the death; now and then the hatches were opened thatsome one of the engineer's crew, exhausted by almost superhumanefforts and the excessive heat, might be brought up from those fierydepths below, while others took the place of him who had fallen at thepost of duty, and the speed was never slackened.
On, on, over the long swell, every man aboard in the highest possiblestate of excitement, eager that the _Texas_ should be in at the death,and ahead, straining every nerve as it were, fled the Spaniards,knowing full well that there could be but one ending to such a race.
"It's Yankee grit an' Yankee skill that's winnin' this fight!" BillJones cried, excitedly, forgetting that he was only a "plain,every-day sailor, with no fightin' timber about him," and at everyonward leap of the ship his body swayed forward as if he was eager fora fray.
But neither Bill Jones nor any man aboard the _Texas_, save thosebrave souls in the very bowels of the gallant ship, had anyopportunity to display personal bravery.
The fight ended when the chase did, for then nothing was left of thosemighty Spanish ships save blackened hulks.
The _Oregon_ was sending 13-inch projectiles after the _Oquendo_ atevery fair opportunity, and the _Texas_, more than holding her ownwith the other vessels, was coming up astern with a speed thatthreatened to bring the long race to a speedy conclusion.
Then, suddenly, although all had been expecting it, the _AlmiranteOquendo's_ bow was headed toward the shore,--she saw the uselessnessof further flight,--and all the pursuers, save the _Texas_, hauled offin pursuit of the _Cristobal Colon_.
Standing with a group of _Texas_ men, Teddy and Bill Jones saw theSpaniard near the line of surf, and as their vessel's speed waschecked there came a roar mightier than when the battle was firstopened; the doomed ship rocked to and fro as if she had struck asunken reef, there was an uprending of the iron decks, and then came ashower of fragments that told of the tremendous explosion within thehull of the _Oquendo_.
Now it was the Yankee crew burst once more into shouts of triumph; butbefore the first cheer arose on the morning air Captain Philip cried:
"Don't cheer; the poor devils are dying!"
Then it was that every man realised what had, until this moment, beenabsolutely forgotten: the game in which they were such decided victorswas one of death! While they were triumphantly happy, scores uponscores of the enemy were dying,--mangled,
scalded, drowning,--and onthe instant, like a flash of light, came the terrible fact that whilethey rejoiced, others were suffering a last agony.
"Don't cheer; the poor devils are dying!"
At that instant Teddy Dunlap understood what might be the horror ofwar, and forgetting the joy and exultation which had been his aninstant previous, the lad covered his eyes with his hand,--sick atheart that he should have taken even a passive part in that game whichcould be ended only by suffering and death.
Later, after the men were sufficiently calm to be able to discussintelligently the doings of that day when the full Spanish fleet wasdestroyed by Yankee vessels who throughout all the action and chasesustained no injury whatsoever, it was learned that more than sixhundred human beings had been sent out of the world in less than fourhours, and nearly eighteen hundred men were taken prisoners by theAmerican vessels.
Teddy Dunlap was like one in a daze from the instant he realised whatall this thrilling excitement meant, until Bill Jones, who had beenordered to some duty below, came to his side in the greatestexcitement.
"What do you think of that, lad?" he cried, shaking the boy vigorouslyas he pointed seaward, and Teddy, looking in the direction indicatedby his outstretched finger, but without seeing anything, asked,hesitatingly:
"Is it the _Cristobal Colon_?"
"Of course it isn't, my lad! That vessel is a wreck off TarquinoPoint, so we heard half an hour ago. Don't you see the ship herealmost alongside?"
"Oh, yes, I see her," Teddy replied, with a sigh of relief. "There'sbeen so much that is terrible goin' on around us that it's like as ifI was dazed."
"An' that's what you must be, lad, not to see that here's the_Brooklyn_ nearer alongside than she's like to come again for a yearor more."
"The _Brooklyn_!" Teddy cried, now aroused from the stupefaction ofhorror which had come upon him with the knowledge of all the sufferingcaused that day. "The _Brooklyn_!"
"Ay, lad, an' her launch is alongside makin' ready to transfer some ofthe prisoners. Now's our chance, when such as we don't amount to astraw in view of the great things that have been done this day, toslip over on a little visit to your daddy!"
Probably at no other time could such a thing have been done by twomembers of the crew; but just now, when every man and officer wasoverwhelmed by the fever of victory, little heed was given to themovements of any particular person.
Therefore it was that Teddy Dunlap and the little sailor had nodifficulty in gaining the _Brooklyn's_ deck without question or check,and the first person they saw on clambering aboard was a coal-passer,stripped to the waist and grimy with dust and perspiration, who staredwith bulging eyes at the boy who followed close behind Bill Jones.
"Teddy!"
"Daddy!"
"I reckon this is no place for me," Bill Jones muttered as he made hisway forward, and if the "plain, every-day sailor with no fightin'timber about him" had sufficient delicacy to leave father and sonalone at such a time, surely we should show ourselves equallyconsiderate.
* * * * *
It is enough to say that Teddy's troubles were at an end after a shortvisit with his father, and that he did not leave the _Texas_immediately.
Captain Philip came to hear the boy's story, and an opportunity wasgiven him to enlist for so long a term as his father was bound to the_Brooklyn_.
Since the purpose of this little story was only to tell how thestowaway found his father, there is no excuse for continuing anaccount of Teddy's experience off Santiago with Sampson; but at somefuture time, if the reader so chooses, all that befell him beforereturning home shall be set down with careful fidelity to everydetail.
THE END.
Off Santiago with Sampson Page 6
