Fighting in Cuban Waters Part 16

Walter was expected to go on duty again at four o'clock, but he was in no condition for service, and sent Caleb word to that effect. Paul took the message and soon returned with a reply.

"You're to take it easy until you're all right," said Paul. "Walton will fix it up so there will be no trouble."

"He's the best friend a fellow ever fell in with," sighed Walter. "If I hadn't met him I don't know what I should have done."

"Oh, you would have taken care of yourself," answered Paul, lightly. He had not yet forgotten the attack Haskett had sustained at Walter's hands.

Daybreak found the squadron running into the first of a series of fog-banks. At once the speed of each warship was reduced, and presently it became necessary to use the fog-horns and ship-bells. In the meantime all hands were put through several drills, "to get them into fighting trim," as the officer of the deck explained. The drills lasted until dinner time, and in some way they made Walter feel much better. As a matter of fact, his spell of seasickness was of short duration, and once gone, the malady never returned.

"I'm a fine specimen of a jackie, am I not?" he said to Caleb, with a faint smile, on first presenting himself. "Why, a Spaniard could knock me over with a feather."

"Don't you go for to find fault with yourself," was the old gunner's reply. "I've known men who have been on the ocean for years to get sick the first day out. It's something they can't overcome, try their best.

Why, I saw several officers of the marines as sick as so many dogs."

Mess over, Walter went on deck for a breath of fresh air. They had just left a fog-bank and were standing out boldly into the ocean. The youth sauntered slowly forward as far as the rules permitted.

"Sail O!" came suddenly from the military mast.

"Where away?" demanded the officer on the bridge.

"Dead ahead, sir."

"Is she flying any flag?"

"I think not, sir."

"What does she look like?"

"I can't make out very well, for she is running into the fog. I don't know but that she looks a bit like a warship," continued the lookout, after some hesitation.

Without delay Commodore Schley and Captain Cook were notified. A brief consultation took place, and it was decided to pursue the unknown craft and find out what she was and where she was going.

CHAPTER XII

AN ADVENTURE OFF CHARLESTON

The news that a strange vessel was in sight soon travelled throughout the ship, and all who could do so, crowded to the spar deck, while the officers stationed themselves on the forecastle, bridge and other points of vantage.

There was no necessity to give the order, "Clear ship for action!" for the _Brooklyn_ was already cleared. Moreover, all the big guns contained their charges of eight-inch and other sh.e.l.ls. The six-pounders and the Colts were now "provided," as it is termed, and then there was nothing to do but to lie by the guns and await further orders.

Immediately upon notification that a strange sail was in sight, the flagship had run up a signal to the _Scorpion_, "Follow the unknown ship to the southward," and away darted the little gunboat at a rate of speed which caused the mighty waves of the Atlantic to wash her decks from end to end. Presently the sea proved almost too heavy for her and she had to reduce her speed, and the _Brooklyn_ went ahead, her high freeboard sending the water to port and starboard with scarcely an effort. Once, however, she did get caught below an unusually high crest and all on the forward deck received a liberal drenching.

"Fire a shot across her bow!" was the order given, when the strange craft again emerged from a fog-bank, and boom! one of the smaller guns belched forth. The echoes of the shot had scarcely died away when the unknown ship was seen to hoist the British flag.

"Only a Britisher!" sighed Caleb, when the news came down to him. "And I thought we were going to have the profit of a nice Spanish prize."

Not caring to go entirely by the flag displayed, since the unknown ship had acted so strangely, the _Scorpion_ was again sent forward to make an investigation. In quarter of an hour she came up within hailing distance.

"What ship is that?" was bawled out through a megaphone.

"British steamer _Elsie_. What gunboat is that?"

"The _Scorpion_, of the United States navy. Where are you bound and what have you on board?"

"Bound for Norfolk, Virginia, with a cargo of phosphate rock."

"Why didn't you show your flag before?"

"Well, to tell the truth we were afraid we had run into some Spanish warships, and that England might be mixed up in this muss, in which case we didn't want to become a Spanish prize. How is it? are we in it yet?"

"No, Uncle Sam is running this war without outside help," was the concluding remark, and then the two vessels separated; and the Flying Squadron proceeded on its way.

Sat.u.r.day found the course of the _Brooklyn_ changed to southwest by south. "We are still hugging the coast," explained Si. "I shouldn't wonder if we are to make a stop somewhere, say at Charleston or Savannah."

"Perhaps the commodore has word that the Spanish ships are sailing for our south-east coast," suggested Walter. "My! what a nasty day it is going to be." He referred to the mist, which was so heavy that it felt almost like rain. For May, the weather was raw and cold, and all hands were glad to stay below decks as much as possible.

On this day another long exercise at the gun was had, and Walter learned more thoroughly than ever how the charge was raised from the ammunition hoists to the gun, pushed into place by the mechanical rammer, and how the gun was moved up, down, or sideways by merely touching this b.u.t.ton or that wheel or lever. "It's wonderful!" he observed. "I suppose it would be next to impossible to move such a big gun by hand."

"Oh, it can be done," answered Caleb. "In the old navy they used to do it by hand, and each gun had ten to sixteen men to man it. In those days they had no device to lessen the shock of the recoil as we have now.

Instead of having a water cushion for the gun to strike on, they used a heavy rope in the back, and sometimes the rope broke, and the gun did more damage flying backward than the charge did flying forward."

"They didn't have any breech-loaders in those days, did they?"

"They had some in the Civil War, but not many before that. Everything in the way of powder and ball had to be put into the muzzle, and was rammed home by hand. The first breech-loading guns were clumsy affairs, and not a few accidents were had by guns going off before the breeches were properly locked."

"And what about sighting the pieces?"

"Oh, they have had dozens of devices for getting a correct aim, some pretty good and some decidedly bad. In the old navy the guns didn't carry near so far as they do now, and your old-time gunner was just what his name calls for, for he sighted the piece and fired it himself. But the old times are gone, and I expect one of these days all the work still left will be done by machinery, and a dozen men sitting up in the conning tower will control the warship from stem to stern."

Walter laughed at this. "I reckon we're some time off from that yet, Walton. But it is wonderful how much the commander can control by using his bells, annunciators, speaking-tubes, and electrical indicators. I guess that is a great improvement on the old way of yelling orders through a speaking-trumpet and having a dozen middies rushing around telling this man and that what to do."

"No doubt of it, lad. But when it's all done and said, you must remember one thing--we have still to prove the worth of our floating forts in war times. Dewey did well at Manila, but it may be that the Spanish warships out there weren't in the best condition. Now this Admiral Cervera, whom we are after, has ships that are thoroughly up to date, and when his outfit meets ours, then--well, we'll see what we will see," concluded the old gunner.

That afternoon Walter took his first lesson in making knots. He had had some idea concerning a variety of knots which had been taught to him by Larry, when he and his younger brother were sailing about Lake Erie, but those which were now exhibited were truly bewildering.

"The single bend and figure of 8 are easy enough," he sighed. "But when you come to that sheep-shank and bowline upon the bight, as you term them, it grows confusing."

"This is only the beginning," answered Caleb. "After you know the knots, you'll want to learn the hitches--half-hitch, rolling-hitch, and so on,--and after that you'll want to take up the splices, and then the different kinds of tackle,--long-tackle, single-whip, and all that. I reckon those will keep your mind busy for a week or two. To be sure, those things belong more to a seaman than a gun-hand, but it's good to know how to do, in case you are called upon at some time."

The night came on with a storm in the air. As before, all the lights were extinguished, and the different watches took their turns at the guns. Walter had just turned in when a shout rang out. "Another vessel in sight!" As rapidly as possible the lad leaped up.

"Is it a Spanish warship?" he asked.

"Don't know," answered Caleb, laconically, but leaped to the gun, with Walter and the others following.