REËNFORCEMENTS
All eyes were now intent on the American war-ship. The guns in the
forts had become silent, as if startled at the sudden appearance of an
enemy worthy of their metal. The monitor, apparently unconscious of the
danger into which it had run, steamed proudly onward. The search-light
of the fort lighted up every detail of the formidable vessel; the
heavy turret guns were lowered, pointing inoffensively away from the
inquisitive search-light.
“They won’t dare fire again at her!” Sydney exclaimed. “See, she has
shown her colors!”
As the midshipman spoke a large American flag rose proudly aloft to
the truck of the “Monterey,” where it fluttered defiantly, as if to
say: “Now if you fire, knowing who I am, you declare war on the country
which I represent.”
Then the Chinese threw down the gauntlet; a flash of flame darted from
the dark fort, licking the heels of a great shell, and a high splash of
foam sprang up in the glare of the search-light not more than a half
hundred yards from the bow of the silent monitor.
Again, like huge fireflies on a summer night, the hill forts flashed
fire, while still the monitor steamed boldly onward, closer and closer
to the hostile guns.
“Why doesn’t she return it?” Sydney exclaimed excitedly. “A few shots
from her guns will startle the soldiers in those forts.”
As the lads watched the one-sided contest, two shafts of light darted
from the monitor; the search-light from the fort from its size and
greater illuminating power concealed the commencement of the war-ship’s
less powerful lights, but upon the forts two round white spots traveled
slowly along, and where they rested the midshipmen could see distinctly
the gun emplacements and the great gun tubes protruding from the
protecting rock and earth.
In a terrible suspense those on the launch held their breath, while
the heavy turrets, plainly visible in the light from the forts, swung
around slowly; then the gun muzzles were raised and pointed steadily at
the two white spots, the end of the search-light rays. After a terrible
suspense, two great tongues of flame leaped far out over the river and
a dull boom shook the air.
“Fine shots!” Phil exclaimed joyfully as he saw the earth on two of the
emplacements rise in the air as if a magazine had exploded underneath
it.
Again the monitor spoke angrily with her great twelve-inch guns,
and again within the illumination the eager watchers saw masses of
earth fly high in the air as the half ton shells exploded on the very
parapets of the Chinese forts.
“She’s turning!” Sydney exclaimed.
Sure enough, the “Monterey” was swinging her bow away from the enemy.
Not understanding the meaning of this treatment, the war-ship was
circling to return down the river, out of range of the formidable forts.
The search-light of the fort held steadily upon the retreating
war-ship, but those of the “Monterey” had been extinguished. The fort
guns, for the time silenced by the straight shooting of their enemy,
now reopened with renewed energy. But the monitor, as if unconscious of
the rain of shell about her, turned in silence, her flag waving proudly
at the mast-head, and started down river.
“Head over for her!” Phil ordered.
With relief and satisfaction, the Americans saw that now after the
monitor had turned, the Chinese gunners were shooting wildly. All the
shots were falling aimlessly short of the retreating war-ship. But
still the search-light ray clung tenaciously, as if it feared the
monitor once out of the vision of its bright eye would take wings and
fly away.
Suddenly from the monitor’s after turret belched forth a single flash.
Those on the launch watched in excited admiration to see the burst of
flame on the ramparts of the fort, but instead, high above the guns,
above even the search-light mounted at the very top of the hill, a jet
of flame, a living ball of fire, cleft the darkness; a second later and
the monitor had faded from sight.
“Shrapnel,” Phil exclaimed intensely, as the sound of the explosion
reached his ears; “that search-light is out of business for the
present.” Then he realized that the launch and the “Monterey” were
rapidly approaching each other on converging courses.
“Light the side lights,” he cried to Emmons, at his side, spellbound
and silent. “We can’t take the risk of having her shoot at us. She
might hit us.”
Emmons obeyed the order by giving a few harsh commands to his reassured
Chinese boatmen and soon the red and green lights were burning on
the launch’s sides. The forts were now silent, their target having
dissolved into the night, but Langdon had taken her bearing and the
launch’s bow was held in the direction which he knew would bring them
close to the monitor.
After many long minutes of anxious search a dark smudge appeared almost
directly in the path of the launch. Then suddenly a flash sprang from
the dark smudge, and a shell shrieked across the bow of the approaching
boat.
“Stop her!” Phil cried in alarm, while he ran quickly forward. Standing
at the bow of the launch, he cleared his voice and raised his hands to
his mouth, ready to answer the hail from the war-ship.
“Boat ahoy!” came distinctly across the water. “Stop where you are, or
we’ll sink you.”
“Aye, aye, sir,” Phil hailed back. “We’re friends--American naval
officers.”
“All right, don’t come any closer and we’ll send a boat,” came the
answer in clear, decided tones.
Those on the launch noted the creak of blocks as a boat shot down from
its davits into the water, and a few minutes afterward they heard the
regular dip of the oars and their rhythmical thud in their sockets.
Then a long, slim whale-boat, propelled by six stalwart sailors, shot
out of the gloom and came quietly alongside the motionless launch.
An officer scrambled nimbly on board.
“What’s the meaning of this?” he exclaimed in astonishment. For in the
ray of the solitary lantern held in the hands of a Chinese boatman, he
saw that he was in the presence of Chinamen. He stopped precipitously,
sliding his hand cautiously to his revolver holster while he eyed
suspiciously the men before him.
Phil was about to answer the officer’s question, never realizing the
cause of the speaker’s abrupt silence, when his eye caught sight of a
familiar face peering in over the launch’s rail. Forgetful of all else,
the lad hastened excitedly forward. Reaching down he grasped the owner
of the face in a strong grip.
“O’Neil!” he exclaimed delightedly. “Well, if this isn’t luck!”
While Sydney in his turn shook hands warmly with their old friend the
boatswain’s mate, who had served with them through many a difficult
position during a South American revolution, when they were together
on the battle-ship “Connecticut,” Phil explained the situation to the
mystified officer.
The lad for the moment had not fully appreciated the dumbfounded
astonishment of the naval man, Lieutenant Washburn of the “Monterey,”
upon finding himself among Chinamen, after he had heard the answer from
the “Monterey’s” hail that American naval officers were on board the
launch.
“We’ve just escaped from prison,” Phil explained, “and your ship
arrived in time to save us from those guns. Their shots were beginning
to come pretty near, I can tell you.”
“Escaped from prison,” Lieutenant Washburn exclaimed, still mystified.
“Where then is the ‘Phœnix’? She hasn’t been sunk, I hope,” he added
hastily in sudden alarm.
Phil quickly set his mind at rest on that point. “She’s at Lien-Chow,
in the To-Yan Lake, and we are on our way there now.
“Commander Hughes will be mighty relieved to see the ‘Monterey’!” he
exclaimed joyfully. “With her the forts have no perils--she can run by
whenever she wishes.”
“I am sorry for him,” Lieutenant Washburn answered, his voice betraying
a note of bitterness, “for I am a great admirer of your captain. He’s
the kind of man we need in command of our ships. There’s a rumor afloat
that he’s in disgrace and will be put under arrest. I hope it’s not
true, but the rumor was persistent in the fleet when we left. If it’s
true I suppose our captain has the order.”
Phil pretended to be greatly surprised and unconsciously raised his
hand to make sure the telegram was safe in his pocket.
“The ‘Monadnock’ is on her way up the river. She’s slower than we are,
and as our captain is senior he pressed ahead.
“Nice surprise they gave us,” he added laughingly, pointing to the now
quiet forts. “We thought they were only having target practice and
supposed of course they’d stop to let us pass. But when they opened
on us, although our captain had sounded to ‘general quarters’ as a
precaution, you could have knocked us all down with a feather.”
“I am happy to say their target practice upon us was not good,” Phil
returned in high humor; “but if you’ll excuse me, I’ll shed these gay
clothes. Mine are pretty seedy after three days in a Chinese prison,
but I’d appear to better advantage when we go aboard the ‘Monterey.’”
The war-ship, by signal-lights, informed her lieutenant that she
was about to anchor, directing the launch to follow and then come
alongside.
Before the rattle of chain announced that the anchor was holding the
steel fortress stationary against the swift current, the midshipmen
recited to Lieutenant Washburn the story of their adventures. O’Neil
listened eagerly, grunting with glee when they told of the triumph over
Ta-Ling and Commander Ignacio.
After a short delay the launch was steered alongside the anchored
war-ship, and the Americans, now in their own clothes, quickly
scrambled over the low side.
Commander Barnes, the monitor’s captain, ranking junior to Commander
Hughes, immediately summoned the midshipmen and Langdon to his cabin.
Phil as spokesman gave the surprised captain a detailed account of
the happenings since the attempt to blow in the gates of the American
mission. Commander Barnes’ eyes opened wider and wider in astonishment
as the lad proceeded.
“It’s all very terrible,” he exclaimed after Phil had finished. “The
admiral knows nothing of this. Why has not Hughes wired the situation?”
“He has sent telegrams,” Phil declared, “but the viceroy will not
forward them.”
“That’s strange,” the captain said in a low voice. “The admiral led
me to suppose that I would be in command of the three ships, and that
Hughes would be relieved of his command. Yet I have no orders to that
effect.”
Phil trembled with joy at overhearing these words, not intended for
his ears. The “Monterey” brought no orders. He held the only order in
his pocket, and the fatal telegram would remain there until Commander
Hughes had won his fight and relieved the situation.
But time was pressing. The fleet must run the batteries to-night. The
arrival of the monitors would make the passage of the secret channel
even more secure by hotly engaging the forts if necessary. In order to
make success sure the midshipman knew that they should proceed at once
upon the remainder of their journey.