The Battleship Boys' First Step Upward Part 1

The Battleship Boys' First Step Upward.

by Frank Gee Patchin.

CHAPTER I

SIGHTING THE SHOOTING STAR

"Green light off the starboard bow, sir."

The voice came from the black void far above the navigating bridge of the battleship "Long Island."

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

"Two points off starboard bow, sir."

"What do you make her out?"

"Don't make her out, sir," answered the red-haired Sam Hickey, who was doing lookout duty on the platform beside the number one searchlight.

"Do you still see her!"

"No, sir."

The watch officer gazed through his night gla.s.s in the direction indicated, but was unable to pick up a light of any sort. The "Long Island" was plunging through a great gale, which she was taking head on. White-tipped seas, backed by solid walls of water were sweeping the bridge more than forty feet above the level of the sea. Even the red-haired boy clinging to the rail far above the bridge was now and again nearly swept from his feet by the rush of water that enveloped him.

A sixty-mile gale was sweeping the Atlantic seaboard, with the wind shrieking weirdly through the huge cage masts, whose tops were lost in the darkness above the ship itself. Every man on deck was clinging to stanchion and rail in momentary danger of being swept overboard.

"You must have been mistaken," shouted the watch officer.

"No, sir. It was a light all right, sir," shouted Sam Hickey in a confident tone.

"What did it look like?"

"It looked like a shooting star, sir."

"What was it?"

"It was a shooting star, sir."

A half articulated exclamation of disgust from the officer on the bridge reached the ears of the lookout.

"It shot right up from the sea, sir."

"What's that?"

The question was hurled up at Sam with almost explosive force.

"The star shot right up from the sea, sir."

Now, the watch officer on the bridge of the battleship knew full well that shooting stars shoot downward, not upward. He knew also that with a sky overcast as was this one, with the clouds hanging low, no shooting star could be made out, even granting that one had fallen.

"Boatswain's mate!" roared the officer.

"Aye, aye, sir," answered a hoa.r.s.e voice somewhere from the depths below.

"Turn out the top watches. Man the tops on the jump!"

"Aye, aye, sir."

Loud words of command floated up from below and a moment later a group of sailors dashed up to the bridge, rubbing their eyes sleepily.

Without awaiting a word of instruction, they began running up the iron ladders of the cage masts and were quickly lost to view.

The watch officer raised his megaphone, pointing it up into the air.

"Look sharp two points to starboard. See if you can pick up a light.

Keep your eyes open. Boatswain's mate!"

"Aye, aye, sir."

"Station men all the way up the mast to pa.s.s the word down in case any lights are made out. I'll never hear the word shouted from up there in this howling gale."

"Aye, aye, sir."

"Green light four points off the starboard bow," howled Sam Hickey.

"Green-light-off-the-starboard-bow," sang a chorus of voices from somewhere far up in the steel mast.

"Man in the top says it's a rocket, sir," was pa.s.sed down from mouth to mouth.

"Aye, aye, I saw it," answered the watch officer. "Pa.s.s the word up to hold the watch. Messenger!"

"Aye, aye, sir."

"Run for the captain's quarters. Tell his orderly we have sighted green rockets off the starboard bow. We have made out no other lights, but there is a ship in trouble off there."

The messenger saluted and was away in a twinkling, racing along the slippery superstructure, guided only by his knowledge of the ship, for he could not see a half dozen feet ahead of him.

The word was pa.s.sed to the commanding officer by the latter's orderly, and in an incredibly short time the captain emerged from his cabin, fully clothed, his uniform covered by shining black rainclothes.

He quickly made his way to the navigator's bridge, arriving there only a few minutes behind the messenger.

"What's this, Mr. Brant?" he demanded sharply in the ear of the watch officer.

"Signal rockets, sir."

"You are sure of this!"

"Yes, sir. Half a dozen men aloft have sighted them. I saw one flash myself."