The Marines Have Landed

by L. T. Meade

  CHAPTER II

  "THE OLDEST BRANCH OF THE SERVICE"

  When Dick ran down the wharf the next morning he found Gordon andseveral other boys there already. He was later than he had intended;unless an early start was made their sport would be spoiled. Black-fishbite well only on the flood tide, and the row to Black Ledge, situatedat the mouth of the broad river, near the entrance to the spaciousharbor, was a distance of at least four miles.

  In order to better their time Dick and Gordon invited Donald Barry andRobert Meade, two boys of their own age, to join them and help man theoars, while Tommy Turner, a freshman at Bankley, was impressed ascoxswain of the crew.

  Lusty strokes soon carried them away from the landing out into thesparkling waters of the river. Tommy Turner, though not a "big boy,"knew his duties as coxswain, so he set his course diagonally for theopposite bank. Already the tide had turned, and to go directlydown-stream would have meant loss of more time, while under the shelterof the left bank of the river the current and wind were not so strong asout in mid-channel.

  With expertness born of much experience he guided the littleround-bottomed craft in and out amidst the river traffic. The swellfrom an outward-bound excursion steamer caused the rowboat to rock andtoss, but not a single "crab" or unnecessary splash did the rowers makeas they bent their backs gladly to their task.

  "Those farmers from up state on board the _Sunshine_ thought we wouldall be swamped sure," remarked Tommy, laughingly. "I'd like to bet thathalf of them never saw blue water before in their lives."

  Dick, stroking the crew, only grinned appreciatively at Tommy's sally,but Donald Barry called out from his place as bow oar:

  "Don't get too cocky, Tommy, for if they knew you had never learned toswim, they might well have felt uneasy about you."

  "I'll learn some day, fast enough," answered Tommy, slightly chagrinedat Donald's remark, "but in the meantime, Don, if you would feather youroar better maybe the wind against it wouldn't be holding us back somuch."

  Tommy Turner was always ready with a "come back," as the boys expressedit, and for a while nothing more was said. Suddenly the coxswain, whohad been gazing fixedly ahead for some time, gave a loud shout.

  "Say, fellows, the fleet is coming in! I thought I couldn't be mistakenwhen I saw all that smoke way out there, and now it's a sure thing."

  By common consent the rowers ceased their exertions and looked in thedirection indicated by Tommy. Far out over the white-capped waves ofthe Sound could be seen against the deep blue sky, dark, low-lyingclouds of black smoke, while just becoming distinguishable to the nakedeye the huge hulks of several battleships could be discerned.

  "This sure is luck," exclaimed Robert Meade. "I've often wanted to see alot of battleships come to anchor together, but never have been on thespot at the right moment."

  "Let's call off the fishing and row out to their anchorage; it's only alittle over a mile farther out. What do you all say?" asked Donald,appealing to the others.

  "Yes,--let's!" spoke up the ubiquitous Tommy. "We can go after the fishlater if we like."

  "You would not be so much in favor of that extra mile or two if you werepulling on an oar, kid," vouchsafed Gordon rather grimly, for the sightof the ships brought to his mind that sooner or later he might bepassing his days on one of those very vessels.

  "Right you are, sir, Admiral Graham, sir," quickly retorted thecoxswain, and even Dick joined in the laughter now turned on Gordon.

  How differently he gazed at the ships to-day from what he would havedone a few days since. Then they would have meant so much to him, whilenow he seemed to resent their very presence in the harbor.

  The rowers had resumed their work and without further words Tommychanged the boat's course.

  By the time the five boys in their tiny craft reached the vicinity thegreat vessels were steaming in column towards the harbor entrance. Onthe fresh morning breeze was borne the sound of many bugles, the shrillnotes of the boatswain's pipes calling the crew on deck, and thecrashings of many bands.

  The boys resting on their oars drank in the beauty and majesty of thescene with sighs of complete satisfaction while they interestedlywatched every maneuver of the approaching ships. The powerfuldreadnaught in the lead flew the blue flag with two white stars of arear admiral. From the caged mainmast and from the signal yard on theforemast strings of gaily-colored flags were continually being run up ordown, and sailors standing in the rigging were waving small hand flagsto and fro with lightning rapidity.

  "Those colored and fancy flags make the outfit look like a circusparade," remarked Tommy, lolling back in the stern sheets with thetiller ropes lying idly in his hands.

  "That's the way the Admiral gives his orders to the other ships,"volunteered Dick. "You'll notice they run up every set of flags firston the flagship, then the ships behind follow suit, finally when theorder is understood by them all and it comes time to do that which theAdmiral wants done, down they all go together."

  "Jinks! I'd think it a pretty tedious way of sending messages,"remarked Donald Barry, watching the gay flags go fluttering upwards inthe breeze; "just imagine spelling out all those words. I'd think thatsometimes they'd all go ashore or run into each other or somethingbefore they half finished what they wanted to say."

  Dick, having spent considerable of his spare moments in reading up aboutnaval matters, smiled at Donald and continued his explanation.

  "It isn't necessary to spell out the words. Each group of flags meanssome special command, and all you have to do is to look it up in thesignal book as you would a word in the dictionary. Most of the commonersignals become so well known after a little experience that it is only amatter of seconds to catch the meaning."

  "I wish we could go on board one of the ships, don't you, fellows?"mused Robert rather irrelevantly. He was generally the silent one ofthe party, but the lads agreed with him that his wish was a good one.Yet such luck was hardly to be expected.

  The flagship was passing but a few yards away, and the watchers couldreadily see the sailors on her decks all dressed in white workingclothes, while on the broad quarter-deck a line of men, uniformed inkhaki and armed with rifles, were drawn up in two straight militaryrows. Near these men glistened the instruments of the ship's band asthey stood playing a lively march.

  Suddenly the boys heard a sharp command wafted to them over the water."Haul down!" were the words, and simultaneously from every ship in thecolumn the lines of flags were hauled down to the signal bridges. Thencame the splash of anchors, the churning of reversed propellers, thesmoke and dust of anchor chains paying out through hawse pipes, and thefleet had come to anchor. Hardly had the great anchors touched thewater when long booms swung out from the ships' sides, gangways werelowered, and from their cradles swift launches with steam already upwere dropped into the water by huge electric cranes.

  "What is the blue flag with all the stars they hoisted at their bowswhen they stopped?" questioned Donald, turning to Dick as being the bestinformed member of the party.

  "That is the Union Jack," Dick replied, "and they fly that from the jackstaff only when a ship is in dock, tied up to a wharf or at anchor; andalso, if you noticed, they pulled down the National Ensign from the gaffon the mainmast and hauled another up on the flagstaff astern at thesame time. When the flag flies from the gaff it means the ship is underway."

  "It certainly is a shame, Dick, you cannot go to Annapolis in my place,"remarked Gordon, regretfully; "you already know more than all of uscombined about the Navy. But do you know, seeing these ships to-day andthe businesslike way they do things has stirred my blood. It is justwonderful! But for the life of me I cannot see how a chap can learn allthere is to know about them in only four years. I rather think I shallhave to do some pretty hard digging if I ever expect to be a navalofficer."

  "Keep your ship afloat, Admiral Graham, and hard digging won't benecessary," interposed Tommy, and a roar of laughter
followed his quip,as was usually the case.

  The boys now began rowing towards the flagship, which in anchoring hadgone several hundred yards beyond them. Nearing her, the strains of alively march were heard, and an officer in cocked hat, gold lace andepaulettes, went down the gangway into a waiting motor boat. No soonerhad the officer stepped into the boat than she scurried away for theshore landing. Again the boys stopped to watch proceedings. When themotor boat started from the gangway one of the sailors on deck blew ashrill call on a pipe and the khaki-clad line of men, who had beenstanding immovably with their rifles at the position of "present arms,"brought them to the deck as if actuated by a single lever, and a momentlater they were marched away.

  "Those soldiers are marines, aren't they?" asked Robert. "Anyway, theyare dressed the same as the marines up at the Navy Yard."

  "Sure they are marines," answered Tommy; "I know all about 'em, for myUncle Fred was a marine officer once. He swears by 'em, and says theyare the best fighters in the world."

  This was Robert Meade's first year at Bankley High School, having spentall his life previously in an up-state town, and the soldier element onboard ship was not clear in his mind.

  "I always used to think that the marine was a sailor," said he. "Atleast, most of the papers half the time must be wrong, for you seepictures supposed to be marines landing at this or that place and theyare almost always dressed as sailors."

  "That's because the papers don't know anything," commented Tommyindignantly. "Why, the marines are the oldest branch of the service;older than the Navy or the Army. Aren't they, Dick?"

  "Well, to tell the truth," Dick answered, "I'm a bit hazy about marinesmyself. Of course I've seen them around town and on the ships all mylife, off and on, but I've been so much more interested in the work of asailor that I haven't paid much attention to the military end of it."

  "The marine is 'soldier and sailor too,'" said Tommy, sententiously."That English poet, Kipling, says he can do any darned thing under thesun; and if all my uncle tells me is true, it must be so. He was avolunteer officer of marines in the war with Spain and fought in Cubawith them."

  "Well, if they are soldiers also, why don't they stay ashore with thearmy?" persevered Robert, wishing to understand more about the men whohad excited his interest.

  "It's a pretty long story to tell you in a minute," answered Tommy;"besides, I may not get it all straight."

  "That will be all right, Tommy," Gordon called out. "I do not knowanything about them, either, and I suppose I had better learn everythingI can about the Navy now. I've made up my mind, boys, that I do want tobe an officer on one of these ships, and I am going to tell my father soto-night, as I know it will please him. So, Tommy, I propose that whenwe start for the boat-house, as you will have nothing else to do butsteer, you tell us all you know about these 'Sea Soldiers.' Is mymotion seconded?"

  As Gordon finished speaking they were lying a little off the starboardquarter of the flagship, idly tossing in the short choppy sea that thebreeze from the Sound had stirred up. A whistle from the deck nowattracting their attention, the boys looked up in time to see a smallmarine with a bugle in his hand run along the deck and, after salutingthe naval officer who had summoned him by the shrill blast, receive someinstructions from the officer. After giving another salute to theofficer, a second or two later the little trumpeter blew a call, themeaning of which was unknown to the silently attentive lads in therowboat.

  All the boys had some remark to make at this.

  "Hello, look at Tom Thumb blowing the bugle," called Tommy, and headded, "If all the marines are his size, I should think someone had beenrobbing a nursery."

  "Wonder what all the excitement means, anyway?" inquired Donald, as hesaw various persons on the ship running about, evidently in answer tothe summons of the bugle.

  "You know all the bugle calls, Dick, because you were the best bugler inthe Boy Scouts when we belonged; what was the call?" Gordon asked.

  "You've sure got me buffaloed," answered Dick. "I learned every call inthe Instruction Book for Boy Scouts, and I know every army call, butthat one wasn't among them."

  During this time their little boat was drifting slowly astern again whensuddenly a long heavy motor boat rounded the battleship, just clearingher, and at terrific speed bore down on the drifting rowboat.

  Instinctively the occupants of the rowboat sprang into action.

  A warning cry was shouted to them through a megaphone from the deck ofthe battleship, the coxswain of the fast flying motor boat sounded twoshort blasts on his whistle, threw his helm hard over, and the crewshouted loudly. Tommy Turner in the excitement of the moment mixed histiller ropes and sent his frail craft directly across the sharp bow ofthe approaching vessel.

  With a smashing and crashing of wood the heavy motor boat practicallycut the rowboat in two, forcing it beneath the surface and passing overit, and more quickly than it has taken to relate it the five boys werethrown into the sea.

  * * * * * * * * *

  How the accident occurred]

  How the accident occurred

  1. B is the position of the rowboat when the motor boat A came underthe stern along dotted line, heading directly at rowboat. Tommy pulledon wrong rope and sent his boat in direction of B'. It can be seen thecoxswain steered in the same direction and the boats smashed at thepoint B'. The motor boat stopped about A'.

  2. The diagram illustrates also the manner of designating thedirections of objects from the ship by lookouts. Example: A sailboat at"C." The lookout would call out "Sailboat, Broad on Port Bow" or hemight say "Four Points on Port Bow."

  * * * * * * * * *

  Dick Comstock, coming first to the surface, looked about him for hiscompanions. The motor boat was now about fifty yards away; her enginehad stopped and her crew were looking anxiously towards the spot wherethe accident had taken place.

  As Dick shook the water from his eyes and ears, he heard the voice ofthe coxswain answering a question apparently addressed him by someonefrom the deck of the flagship.

  "I can't reverse my engines, sir. Something fouling the propellor," hecalled out.

  By this time Dick saw the bobbing heads of Robert, Donald and Gordon notfar from him.

  "Where's Tommy?" called Dick, anxiously, trying to rise from the wateras far as possible in his endeavor to sight the missing boy.

  To these four lads the choppy sea meant nothing, in spite of the factthey were fully clothed when so suddenly upset. But in Tommy's case itwas a far different matter, for, as has been stated, Tommy, though aplucky little fellow, was unable to swim.

  The wrecked rowboat had floated some distance away and with one accordthe four boys swam rapidly towards it in the hope that Tommy might befound clinging to the debris.

  Meanwhile on the deck of the battleship there was great excitement. Alife-boat was being quickly lowered from its davits and active sailorswere piling into it. The starboard life-lines of the quarter-deck werelined with men in white uniforms and dungarees, for many of the engineroom force had been attracted to the deck to witness the episode thoughthey were not allowed there on ordinary occasions in that attire, andalso there was a sprinkling of marines in khaki. Shouts, signals anddirections were coming from all sides, while two of the motor boat'screw were already in the water swimming back towards the boys to lendthem aid if necessary.

  On reaching the wreck, Dick, who was first to arrive, half pulledhimself out on the upturned bottom in order to search to betteradvantage. Discovering with sinking heart that Tommy was not there,without a moment's hesitation he disappeared beneath the boat searchingwith wide open eyes for his little friend, nor was he alone in hisquest, for each of the boys in turn dove under the boat on arrival.Staying as long under water as he possibly could Dick came to thesurface to free his lungs of the foul air with which they were nowfilled. Again his anxious eyes swept the
roughened water in eagersurvey and then with a loud cry of gladness he was going hand over handin the famous Australian crawl, but this time away from the boat andtowards the ship.

  In that momentary glance he saw an arm and hand emerge from the waves,the clenched fist still holding fast to a piece of tiller rope. It hadshown but an instant above the surface and then disappeared. Could hereach the spot in time? Could he? He would--he must, and with head andface down his arms flew like flails beating the water past him as hesurged forward.

  On board the flagship, Sergeant Michael Dorlan, of the Marines, had beenan eye-witness of the whole occurrence. For some time previous he hadbeen watching the boys in the boat. The manner in which they handledtheir oars showed him they were no novices. He noted also that therewere five occupants in the unlucky craft when she was struck. Calmly hecounted the heads appearing in the water beneath.

  "One," counted Dorlan aloud to himself as Dick's drenched head almostinstantaneously bobbed up, "two, three," he continued in rapidsuccession, "four----," and then he waited, holding his breath, whilehis honest Irish heart beat faster beneath his woolen shirt.

  "They kin all shwim," he muttered aloud as the four lads struck outvigorously in the water, "but, bedad, the fifth kid ain't up yet."

  During all this time Dorlan was unlacing his shoes with rapidly movingfingers. His coat he unconsciously took off and threw to the deck andthen he climbed to the top rail of the life-lines, steadying himself byholding to an awning stanchion. Never once did his sharp, gray-blueeyes leave the surface of the water. As Dick cried out and dashedthrough the waves towards the spot where he momentarily glimpsed thetightly clenched hand of Tom Turner, a brown streak appeared to shootfrom the rail of the dreadnaught and with hardly a splash was lost andswallowed up in the sea.

  Sergeant Michael Dorlan had also seen that for which he was looking andlike a flash he had gone to the rescue. From the height of over twentyfeet his body shot like a meteor in the direction of the drowning boy.To the officers and crew on board the flagship it seemed an eternitybefore a commotion below them and a spurning and churning of the waterannounced his reappearance. And Dorlan did not come to the surfacealone, for it was seen that he was supporting the form of the boy he hadgone to rescue.

  A great cheer filled the air as the crew of the ship spontaneously gavevent to their relief, and a few seconds later the unconscious lad washurried up the gangway by willing hands, followed unassisted by his fourdrenched and solicitous comrades.