[Illustration: “YOU MUST BE MORE CAREFUL IN THE FUTURE,” SAID COMMODORE
DEWEY. “WE CAN’T AFFORD TO LOSE ANY MEN JUST NOW.”]
A SAILOR BOY
WITH DEWEY
OR
_AFLOAT IN THE PHILIPPINES_
BY
CAPTAIN RALPH BONEHILL
AUTHOR OF “WHEN SANTIAGO FELL,” “OFF FOR HAWAII,”
“GUN AND SLED,” “RIVAL BICYCLISTS,” “YOUNG
OARSMEN OF LAKEVIEW,” “LEO, THE
CIRCUS BOY,” ETC.
[Illustration]
CHATTERTON-PECK COMPANY
NEW YORK, N. Y.
BY THE SAME AUTHOR
WITH CUSTER IN THE BLACK HILLS;
Or, A Young Scout among the Indians.
BOYS OF THE FORT;
Or, A Young Captain’s Pluck.
THE YOUNG BANDMASTER;
Or, Concert Stage and Battlefield.
WHEN SANTIAGO FELL;
Or, The War Adventures of Two Chums.
A SAILOR BOY WITH DEWEY;
Or, Afloat in the Philippines.
OFF FOR HAWAII;
Or, The Mystery of a Great Volcano.
_12mo, finely illustrated and bound in cloth. Price, per volume, 60
cents._
NEW YORK
CHATTERTON-PECK COMPANY
1905
COPYRIGHT, 1899, BY
THE MERSHON COMPANY
PREFACE.
“A Sailor Boy with Dewey,” while a complete story in itself, forms the
second volume of a line of works issued under the general title of the
“Flag of Freedom Series.”
In writing this tale of adventure I had in mind to acquaint our boys
with something of the strange sights and scenes which come to light
daily in Uncle Sam’s new possessions in the far East, or far West, as
you will. The Philippines are but little understood by the average
reader, and if I have served to make the picture of them a little
clearer my object will have been accomplished.
Some may argue that the adventures introduced in the volume are
overdrawn, but I can assure all that the incidents are underdrawn
rather than otherwise. Many savage and barbarous natives still inhabit
the Philippines, and to bring these people to genuine civilization will
take many years of patient labor and encouragement. In the past Spain
had accomplished something, but not much; what our own nation will do
remains still to be seen. Let us hope for the best.
Again thanking my young friends for the kindness with which they have
perused my stories in the past, I place this book in their hands with
my best wishes for their future welfare.
CAPTAIN RALPH BONEHILL.
_April 15, 1899._
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER PAGE
I. OFF FOR MANILA BAY, 1
II. THE COLLISION IN THE HURRICANE, 10
III. IN WHICH DAN AND I BECOME SEPARATED, 19
IV. THE RESCUE OF THE UNWORTHY ONE, 27
V. CAST ASHORE ON LUZON, 34
VI. ADVENTURES IN THE FOREST, 43
VII. THE WRECK ON THE SHORE, 52
VIII. ATTACKED BY THE TAGALS, 59
IX. THE FLIGHT FROM BUMWOGA, 67
X. THE BATTLE AT A DISTANCE, 74
XI. OFF FOR SUBIG BAY, 82
XII. ATTACKED IN THE CANYON, 91
XIII. MY FIRST ADVENTURE IN MANILA, 99
XIV. THE ESCAPE FROM THE PRISON, 107
XV. BACK TO HONG KONG, 115
XVI. THE OPENING OF THE WAR, 123
XVII. I MEET COMMODORE DEWEY, 130
XVIII. THE FIGHTING ENGINEER, 139
XIX. “FIRE!” 147
XX. IN WHICH ONE SPANISH SHIP IS SUNK, 155
XXI. A NEVER-TO-BE-FORGOTTEN CONTEST, 162
XXII. BETWEEN TWO FIRES, 169
XXIII. THE ESCAPE FROM THE INN, 177
XXIV. ONE WAY OF ENTERING A FORTIFIED CITY, 184
XXV. FOUR WOULD-BE PLUNDERERS, 192
XXVI. THE FIGHT IN THE OFFICES, 200
XXVII. A LETTER OF GREAT IMPORTANCE, 208
XXVIII. TREED BY BUFFALO BULLS, 215
XXIX. CAPTAIN KENNY AGAIN, 223
XXX. A FIGHT AT LONG RANGE, 230
XXXI. THE WRECKING OF THE HOWITZER, 237
XXXII. GOOD-BY TO THE PHILIPPINES, 245
A SAILOR BOY WITH DEWEY
CHAPTER I.
OFF FOR MANILA BAY.
“What do you think of this storm, Oliver?”
“I think it is going to be a heavy one, Dan,” I answered. “Just look at
those black clouds rolling up from the southeast. We’ll catch it before
midnight.”
“Just what I think,” answered my chum, Dan Holbrook. “Where is Captain
Kenny?”
“Where he always is, in his cabin, more than half intoxicated. I tell
you, Dan, I would never have taken passage on the _Dart_ had I known
what sort of a man Captain Kenny was. Why, our lives are not safe in
his hands.”
“Humph! I don’t know as they are safe out of his hands, Oliver,”
returned Dan, with a toss of his handsome head. “Since we left China
we’ve struck two heavy hurricanes,--perhaps that coming on will finish
us.”
“Gracious! don’t say that!” I cried, with a shiver. “We don’t want to
be finished--at least, I don’t.”
“Neither do I. But when a storm comes, it comes, that is all there is
to it.”
“True, but we might do something toward meeting it,” I went on,
with a grave shake of my head, for I did not altogether like Dan’s
light-hearted way of looking at things. “In my opinion Captain Kenny
ought to be on deck this instant, watching this storm.”
“Supposing you tell him that?”
“I’ve a good mind to.”
“You’ll get a belaying pin over your head, as Dawson, the mate, got.
Captain Kenny is not a man to be talked to. He is bad enough when he is
sober, and when he isn’t he is simply terrible.”
“But he has no right to imperil the lives of twenty or more people by
his drunkenness,” I rejoined warmly. “If I had my way, I’d put the
captain in irons and place Dawson in command of the _Dart_. He knows
enough to keep sober, and----”
“Ye would do thet, would ye?” roared a hoarse voice at my shoulder, and
turning swiftly I found myself confronted by Captain Kenny. “I’ll teach
ye how to talk ag’in the master o’ this vessel, an’ don’t ye forgit
it!” And he grabbed me by the arm.
Captain Kenny’s face was as red as a beet. Usually it was far from
being handsome, now it was positively hideous. His breath was heavily
laden with the odor of rum, showing that he had been imbibing more than
usual.
* * * * *
I was a boy of sixteen, tall and strong for my age. I was not a poor,
down-trodden lad, knocking about from pillar to post, trying to earn
my living. My father, Samuel Raymond, was a rich merchant of San
Francisco, owning interests in several lines of trade, with offices at
San Francisco, Hong Kong, Manila in the Philippine Islands, and several
other points.
Just six months before I had graduated at a business college in
California. As I was to follow my father into trade, it was not thought
worth while to give me a term at the University, or any similar
institute of learning. Instead, my father called me into his library
and said to me:
“Oliver, I believe you understand that you are to go into business with
me.”
“I do, sir,” had been my reply. “I wish for nothing better.”
“Usually I do not believe in letting boys remain idle after their
school days are over, but in this case I think an exception should be
made. You have worked hard, and come out at the top of your class. You
deserve a good, long holiday. How will you take it?”
To answer this question puzzled me at first, for I knew I had the whole
world before me. I had been as far east as New York and as far south as
St. Louis, and had even taken a trip on Lake Michigan. I concluded that
I had gone eastward far enough.
“If it’s all the same, I’ll go to Hong Kong and get acquainted with
our branch out there,” was my answer, and the use of the words, “our
branch,” made my father laugh.
“That will suit me exactly,” was his return. “You shall go from San
Francisco direct to Hong Kong, and you can return by way of the
Philippines and see how our place of business is doing at Manila. The
place at Manila is running down--the Spaniards are doing their best
to drive us out altogether, and if you can see any way of improving
conditions, now or later on, so much the better.”
In less than two weeks I was ready to start, but I did not leave home
even then as quickly as did my father, who received word which took him
to the east and then to Cuba. What happened to my parent in Cuba has
been excellently told by my friend, Mark Carter, in his story which
has been printed under the title of “When Santiago Fell.” At that
time I did not know Mark at all, but since then we have become very
intimately acquainted, as my readers will soon learn.
The voyage from the Golden Gate to Hong Kong was made without anything
unusual happening. On landing at the Chinese-English port I was
immediately met by Dan Holbrook, whose father was one of my parent’s
partners. Dan had put in two years at Hong Kong and the vicinity, and
he took me around, and talked Chinese for me whenever it was required.
At last came the time when I thought I ought to think of returning
to San Francisco by way of Manila, or at least to run over to the
Philippines and back and then start for home. “If only you could go
to Manila with me!” had been my words to Dan, to whom I was warmly
attached.
“I will go,” had been the ready answer, which surprised me not a
little. Soon I learned that Dan had been talking the matter over with
his father and mother. Mr. Holbrook was as anxious as my father to have
the business connection at Manila improved, and he thought that both of
us ought to be able to do something, even though I was but a boy and
Dan was scarcely a young man.
Manila, the principal city of the Philippines, is located but four
or five days’ sail from Hong Kong and there is a regular service of
steamers between the two ports. But both Dan and I had seen a good deal
of ocean travel on steamers, and we decided to make the trip to Manila
Bay in a sailing craft, and, accordingly, took passage on the _Dart_,
a three-masted schooner, carrying a miscellaneous cargo for Manila,
Iloilo, and other points.
When we secured our berths we did not see Captain Kenny, only the
first and second mates of the vessel. Had we seen the captain with his
tough-looking and bloated face, it is quite likely that we would have
endeavored to secure passage to the Philippines elsewhere.
Yet for several days all went well. The weather was not all that it
should have been, for we were sailing in a portion of our globe where
hurricanes and earthquakes are of frequent occurrence. Our course had
been set directly for Corregidor Island at the entrance to Manila
Bay, but it had begun to blow harder and harder, we drove up in the
direction of Subig Bay.
The weather kept growing fouler and fouler, and with this Captain Kenny
gave himself over to liquor until he was totally unfit to command the
_Dart_. He was a man to allow sails to be set when they should have
been furled, and already had he lost one sheet through his foolishness.
The mate, Tom Dawson, was a first-rate fellow, as kind and considerate
as the captain was rough and brutal. How he had shipped with such a
beast was a mystery, but it did not concern me and I did not bother my
head about it. On three occasions I had seen the captain attack Dawson,
but each time the mate had escaped and refused to take up the quarrel.
In the meantime the second mate and the men grumbled a good deal, but
so far no open rupture had occurred among the forecastle hands.
* * * * *
“You let go of that arm,” I said, as I found Captain Kenny’s harsh face
poked out close to my cheek.
“I’ll let go when I’m done with you, not afore!” he went on, with
increasing wrath. “Call me a drunkard, will ye!” And he gave the arm a
savage twist that hurt not a little. “On board o’ my own ship, too!”
“If I did I only spoke the truth,” I said steadily. “You drink
altogether too much for the good of those on board. We are going to
have a big storm soon, and you ought to have your wits about you, if
you want to save the _Dart_ from going down.”
“I know my business, boy--ye can’t teach it me nohow! Take thet fer
talkin’ to me in this fashion!”
Releasing my arm, he aimed a heavy blow at my head. But I was on the
alert and dodged, and the blow nearly carried the irate skipper off his
feet. Then, as he came on again, I shoved him backward, and down he
went in a heap on the deck.
“By Jove, now you’ve done it!” whispered Dan.
“I don’t care, it serves him right,” I answered. “He had no right to
touch me.”
“That’s true. But you must remember that a captain is king on his own
deck, on the high seas.”
“A brute can never be a king--and make me submit, Dan.”
By this time Captain Kenny was scrambling up, his face full of rage.
Instantly he made for me again.
“I’ll teach ye!” he screamed. “You good-fer-nuthin landlubber! I’ve had
it in fer ye ever since ye took passage. Maybe my ship aint good enough
fer ye! If thet’s so, I’ll pitch ye overboard!” And he tried to grab me
once more.
But now Dan stepped between us. “Captain Kenny, you let Raymond alone,”
he ordered sternly.
“I won’t--he’s called me a drunkard, and--”
“He told the truth. You attend to your business and we’ll attend to
ours.”
“I’ll--I’ll put him in irons. He shan’t talk so afore my crew!” fumed
the captain.
“You shan’t touch him.”
“Shan’t I?” The half-drunken man glared at both of us. Then he backed
away, shaking his fist. “Just wait a minute and I’ll show you a trick
or two--just wait!” And still shaking his fist, he reeled off to the
companion way, almost fell down the stairs, and disappeared into the
cabin.