BETWEEN SKY AND SEA
"You got them all, did you?" questioned the captain.
"Yes, sir."
"Good work! Did you have any trouble?"
"Nothing very much, sir."
"You look it," the captain laughed. "You will appear at mast this
afternoon, at one o'clock, and give such evidence as you may have
obtained, relating to where you found the men, and who of them offered
resistance."
"Aye, aye, sir."
"Mr. Coates, are all our men accounted for?"
"I will ascertain, sir."
The executive officer returned a few minutes later and saluted.
"The master-at-arms reports that the ship's crew is on board."
"Very good; we will get under way at once. Davis, I take pleasure in
commending you for your excellent work. You have done much better than I
had any idea you could possibly do. That will be all. Your uniform needs
attention."
"Aye, aye, sir."
Dan seemed fated to lose his clothes. He was without a hat, his garments
were torn and soiled and his hair looked as if it had not felt the touch
of a comb in many days. His condition necessitated another visit to the
canteen for fresh supplies.
"If this keeps on I shall be spending all my wages for uniforms," said
the boy with a happy laugh, as he drew a cap, a new jacket, a blouse,
and a new rating badge.
The forecastle presented a scene of activity when finally Dan emerged
upon it from the forward companionway. Orders were being passed rapidly,
boatswain's mates were piping up their different watches and jackies
were making all snug about the decks.
"I think we are ready, Mr. Coates," announced the captain.
"Up anchor!" roared the executive through his megaphone.
Chains rattled and clanked as the powerful electric apparatus began
hauling in the heavy anchors.
"Anchors shipped, sir," sang a midshipman from the forecastle.
"Slow speed ahead, both engines," ordered the captain.
The ship swung slowly about, clouds of black smoke belching from her
funnels. Poking her nose out into the English Channel, the battleship
headed southward for a long cruise.
The band on the quarter-deck about this time struck up "The Red, White
and Blue," every jackie on the decks raising his voice in the words of
the song. It was an inspiring scene.
Dan Davis felt an unusual pride that afternoon. He had accomplished
something of which he was proud, and for which he had a right to be
proud.
Shortly after mess the mast court was called, at which all the
delinquents that the Battleship Boy and his squad had rounded up were
arraigned on deck. This was the part of his work that the boy did not
like. He was placed in a position where, if he should tell the truth, he
would be obliged to give information that would send some of his
shipmates to the ship's brig for many days. It was a foregone conclusion
that Dan would tell the truth, and he did. He related the story of the
arrest of each man, leaving out his own part in the affair as much as
possible. However, the facts were skilfully drawn out by the commanding
officer.
Most of the men who had overstayed their leave were remanded for trial
by summary court, and two days later, at muster, sentence was
pronounced.
The "Long Island" was now starting on a long cruise to southern waters.
The Battleship Boys were looking forward to new sights and new scenes,
as well as new experiences, of which they were to have a full measure.
The English Channel was left behind two days later, the battleship
beginning once more her strife with the broad Atlantic. The skies were
gray and the water of that dull leaden hue which to the experienced eyes
of the sailor means trouble.
Before that afternoon had come to a close huge seas were breaking over
the forecastle, sending the spray over the bridge and high up on the
military masts.
"The glass is falling, sir," announced the navigating officer.
"Yes; we are in for a rough night," answered the captain. "Is all
secure, Mr. Coates?" he asked, turning to the executive officer.
"All is secure, sir."
The quarter-deck, long since, had begun shipping seas, so that now it
was wholly awash, the deck being buried beneath tons of water, save now
and then when it would rise, dripping, from the sea, only to bury itself
again a few minutes later, the after flag staff disappearing beneath the
green seas that swept over it.
Sea after sea would rise over the forecastle, leap the forward turret,
striking the weather cloths of the bridge with a swish and a thud, then
go hissing past the officers on the bridge with terrific speed.
Watches had been set as if the hour were late, for it was becoming more
and more difficult to see ahead, in the blinding salt spray that hung
over the ship like a fog.
As far as the eye could reach the sea was a mass of angry, swirling
waters, here and there rising into great white-capped mountains.
All at once the voice of the lookout in the tops sang out a new call.
"Waterspout off the starboard bow!"
Instantly every man within sound of the lookout's voice sprang up to
view the sight.
"Pipe all hands up to see waterspout!" roared the executive officer.
It was dangerous business coming on deck in that sea, but the men knew
how to look out for themselves. They came piling from hatchway and
companionway like as many monkeys.
"Where away?" called one.
"Off the starboard bow," answered a voice from the bridge.
When the battleship rose on a great heaving billow a splendid sight was
obtained of the twister. The swirling pillar of water appeared to reach
high up into the skies. The column was traveling at tremendous speed.
"What would happen if the thing should hit us?" questioned Sam Hickey
apprehensively.
"It would rake your red hair and turn it green," jeered a companion.
"I'd hate to be on board a ship that it did hit," added a boatswain's
mate.
"I was on a barkentine, trading between New York and Brazil once, when
we got hit by a twister," said a machinist's mate.
"Do any harm?"
"Not much. Stripped her clean, washed seven sailors overboard and a few
other trifles."
"Do you mean it washed a few other trifles overboard?" questioned
Hickey.
"No; I don't mean anything of the sort. I mean that it cut up a few
other capers. We were picked up by a coasting steamer three days later,
half drowned."
"Any danger of her coming our way?" asked Sam a little apprehensively.
"I guess not. The officers will look out for that."
The officers on the bridge were looking after the waterspout, and very
carefully at that. An extra watch was posted in each of the military
tops, with instructions to keep a keen lookout. Hickey was one of these.
His station was on top of the forward cage mast, a hundred feet from
the deck.
The red-haired boy's head swam as he clung desperately to the rope
ladder in his perilous ascent. Now and then the battleship would heel
over until it seemed as if she never would come back.
When half way up he paused a few seconds, to turn his head aft and get a
free breath, for water was smiting him at every step. He saw a signal
wig-wagged to him from the after mast. It was from Dan Davis, who was
going up on the same duty.
"I'll race you to the top," signaled Davis.
"Go you!" answered Sam, starting up the ladder at a lively clip. Dan was
not caught napping. He was off with Sam. Every little distance up these
masts is a landing made of woven leather strands, and a person mounting
to the top has to cross each one of these, taking a ladder on the other
side.
The Battleship Boys barely struck the high places in crossing the
landings. It seemed as if they surely must fall.
"Look careful, aloft there!" roared a voice from the bridge.
"Aye, aye, sir," floated back the reply from Hickey.
They had reached next to the last landing, far up there in the
spray-laden air, when a shout attracted all eyes aft.
A man was seen hanging from the platform by his feet. With each roll of
the ship his body would swing far out from the mast, as he hung
suspended between sea and sky.
"Man the main mast!" thundered an officer, his voice being heard above
the roar of the storm.
Half a dozen jackies sprang for the mast.
"Who is the man aloft there?" demanded the captain.
"It's Gunner's Mate Davis, sir," answered the executive officer.
The captain groaned.
"He'll be lost. Look alive there, men! Quick! Quick!"
Sam had seen and understood, but he did not halt. He was under orders to
go to the top, and to the top he went as fast as his feet and hands
would carry him. Not until he had reached the swaying platform at the
top of the cage mast did he venture to look astern.
The lad's heart fairly leaped into his throat as he saw his companion's
terrible peril.
In running across the landing, Dan had been caught by a sudden violent
lurch of the ship and thrown forward. He felt his head and shoulders
going through between the braces of the mast. With quick instinct he
spread both legs, turning his toes outward.
Nothing else saved him from plunging a hundred feet into the sea. And
there he clung by his feet, every muscle in his body strained to its
utmost tension. With each roll of the ship he felt that he would be
unable to hold on through another.
"Hold fast!" shouted a voice far below him.
[Illustration: "Hold Fast!" Shouted a Voice Below.]
"Hold fast--they're coming!" howled Sam Hickey from his perch high in
the air. His voice was lost on the roar of the gale, but he did not know
it.
"Where's that confounded waterspout?" he muttered. "Oh, I see it. The
thing is going to come pretty close to the ship, I'm afraid. But I don't
care. I'm too high up to get hit by it."
His mind turning from the waterspout to Dan Davis, Sam wheeled,
steadying himself by holding tightly to the railing that extended around
the top. Every lurch of the ship was like "cracking-the-whip" at school.
It seemed to make every bone in one's body snap.
Sam groaned as he saw Dan swaying back and forth.
"Oh, why doesn't he grab the mast? Why doesn't he?"
Sam did not know that Dan was making desperate efforts to do this very
thing, but thus far had been unable to.
All at once the lad's feet slipped out of position.
"He's going! He's going overboard!" yelled Hickey in a voice that was
heard on the bridge and to the stern of the superstructure.
Sam shut his eyes and stood there trembling. He had forgotten
waterspout, raging sea and all--all save the fact that his companion was
falling.
A yell aroused him. The yell was different from the rest. It was a yell
of joy. Sam opened his eyes, blinked, rubbing the salt water out of
them, then gazed aft through the mist.