Amos was now glad that Jack had been so positive about making all their
arrangements beforehand. The dispatch boat would be in somewhat of a
hurry, as the commander doubtless had a regular schedule to be carried
out; and any unexpected delay was apt to disarrange this.
“I’m ready!” sang out Amos, almost before the marine who had aroused
them according to orders from the lieutenant, whose duty kept him on
deck at this hour, could have made his report.
“Same here,” came a voice from the darkness, “and the sooner we make
out to reach the deck the better. They may object to losing even a
minute of their precious time for a couple of Yankee boys.”
They knew their way perfectly, whether it were broad daylight or in the
inky darkness of night. Jack had looked out for that. It was a habit
born of his woodcraft education that when in strange quarters the first
thing to be done must be to impress every little thing on his mind--and
a very good idea for any boy to take as his motto.
So they came on deck without colliding with anything. The first thing
Jack did--and this also sprang from his two years’ experience out on
the plains--was to cast an eye aloft.
The stars shone brightly, even though the world below lay shrouded in
darkness. Those stars meant much more to Jack Maxfield than they might
to the ordinary careless, happy-go-lucky lad. He was so well acquainted
with the positions of the various planets that stood for the signs of
the zodiac that all he needed at any time was one good look around, and
he could tell pretty closely what the hour was.
Knowing this strong point on the part of his chum, Amos therefore was
not at all surprised to hear him immediately mutter:
“It’s a good deal later than I expected. They said the boat would come
any time after midnight; but right now it’s less than two hours to peep
of dawn.”
“Ginger! that may play the dickens with our plans for getting ashore,
Jack!” exclaimed Amos. It might be noticed that never for one instant
did he question the accuracy of his comrade’s statement; for in truth
he had seen the other prove his ability to tell time by the position of
the stars again and again.
“Oh, let’s hope not,” Jack went on to say with his customary assurance,
for he always saw the bright side of things. “They must know what they
are doing, and just how long it’s going to take them to run across to
Gallipoli.”
“Yes, and, Jack, you remember the commander assured you they would have
to send a boat in to shore, no matter what happened, for certain things
had to be delivered to the general in charge of the Territorials. I
guess it’s going to be all right.”
“There’s the dispatch boat coming up now, and with only one light
showing. All these movements look ghostly, let me tell you, Amos.”
“But there’s a good reason for every one of them,” remarked Amos, as
they watched the swift boat drawing close to the bulky battleship.
“You can be sure there is,” said Jack. “If ever there was a case where
constant vigilance is the price of safety, the British seamen know it
during these exciting days. They never can tell when, without warning,
a torpedo will smash against the side of their war vessel, sinking it
inside of five minutes.”
“Or an aeroplane come sailing along overhead, and try to drop bombs
down on the deck that might do a heap of damage. Whew! talk about
living under a strain, I bet there’ll be a lot of old-young men after
this war is over. Their hair will turn white in a year, from the
constant suspense and worry.”
“There, the dispatch boat has halted, and they are sending a boat over
to us, you can see. I make out the dip of the oars in the water, and
can just barely hear the same in the rowlocks. We’re expected to go
off in that same boat, Amos.”
Two minutes later and they saw someone come aboard. The lieutenant of
the big battleship met him and there ensued a short talk in low tones.
Doubtless he was first of all handing over something which was to be
taken ashore, possibly mail for the Territorials from their home ports.
Then Jack guessed he must be giving the Vice-Admiral’s orders that the
two American boys be landed at the camp, particular care being taken to
insure their safety.
Immediately afterwards the officer belonging to the _Thunderer_ turned
and made a gesture with his hand that Jack knew must be meant for them.
Accordingly he and his comrade drew forward.
“You are to be put in charge of this gentleman, who will see that you
are taken ashore. It is the admiral’s orders, and we hope you will meet
in your search with the success you certainly deserve.”
The British officer would not likely say as much as that to most
strangers, but somehow these two wide-awake lads had become favorites
in the mess-room during their brief stay aboard the grim war vessel.
Shaking hands with the lieutenant, after he had made the first move
himself, the boys managed to drop into the waiting boat with a fair
amount of agility. Although they may not have been born seamen, and
indeed, until lately, had had very little to do with boats of any size,
at the same time they were naturally nimble, and athletic as well.
The two sailors rowed them across to the destroyer which was acting as
a dispatch boat, awaited their coming, lying like a bird on the heaving
bosom of the sea. They lost no time in getting aboard, after which the
boat was hoisted with as little noise as possible.
Indeed, silence seemed to be at a premium in these exciting times.
Every block had apparently been well oiled so that when the ropes
pulled through there would be no squeaking to announce the fact.
Smaller things than this have betrayed the presence of a boat to
lurking foes; and evidently the order had gone forth that nothing
should be left undone to baffle those who would only too willingly open
a battery upon them.
Now they were off.
The boys first of all noticed the difference in motion when aboard the
speedy destroyer as compared with the bulky battleship.
“I guess the one might be called a bulldog and the other a greyhound,
so far as looks and speed go,” said Amos, speaking almost in a whisper,
for everything seemed to be done in such a ghostly fashion that he did
not dare talk out in his natural tones.
“But I like this much better than the other,” Jack told him. “It makes
you feel almost as if you were flying. We are cutting through the water
at a rate of twenty miles an hour right now, and yet you’d hardly
believe it.”
Another stop was made, and more mail collected or delivered. Evidently
then the dispatch boat was also being used for the mails. Amos began to
feel a little uneasy again.
“All I hope is that we don’t have to make many more stops like this,”
he muttered disconsolately, as they strained their eyes to make out the
shadowy shape of the big sea fighter close to which they had come to,
while the boat was again lowered and rowed away. “Ten precious minutes
each and every time would soon put us on the ragged edge.”
“Oh! they know what they are doing,” Jack assured him. “Right now I
bet you the commander of this little craft has the minutes figured up,
and understands just when he can get to where he expects to run his
boat ashore. And you’ll find that it isn’t going to be done in broad
daylight either.”
Jack absolutely refused to borrow trouble. He had perfect faith in
those keen-witted officers who had control of the war vessels. If they
were not fully competent he believed they would not be filling the
responsible positions they held in His Majesty’s service.
Presently the boat returned, and was once more hoisted aboard.
“This time let’s hope it’s come for good,” ventured Amos.
“They seem to be taking more pains at stowing it away than before,”
Jack informed him, “and from that fact I imagine it’s going to stay
aboard for a spell. Yes, and as we start off you may notice that
they’ve changed the course by several points.”
“Well, it’s little escapes you, Jack, I must say. Now that you mention
it I can see that we are running straight toward that bright star,
while before this it lay on our right. Do you think we’re pointing into
the east now?”
“Well, hardly that,” mused Jack; “rather something like east-by-north
would fit in better.”
At that Amos chuckled.
“Whew! what d’ye think of that now--my chum here beginning to talk like
an old salt, and able to box the compass like any Jack Tar. By the time
we get home you’ll be a regular walking encyclopedia of knowledge.”
“Perhaps I may,” replied the other quietly, “but one thing sure, if I
miss anything it isn’t going to be my fault. Now, as we’re spinning
along at such a fast clip we had better get out of the breeze, and stop
talking so much.”
Amos just gloried in the speed they were making. He mentally calculated
that it must assuredly be close on thirty miles an hour. Never in all
his life had he experienced anything like it when aboard a boat.
As the minutes crept on the boys continued to keep a bright lookout
ahead. They thought several times they could see shadowy objects on the
water, but were never quite sure whether these were boats belonging to
the fleet, or islands. Once or twice they watched the swinging around
the circle of a powerful searchlight, no doubt aboard a sentry vessel.
When it fell on the destroyer and rested there, they knew full well
signals were set to disclose their identity. Then the dazzling shaft
passed on as though the workers of the searchlight had become convinced
of their friendly mission.
An hour and more had gone. Amos was getting nervous.
“I’m sure it can’t be very far from peep of dawn, Jack,” he said,
crossly. “Still, we’re shooting along as if we had the whole night
ahead of us.”
“I wonder what those dim lights can be I make out dead ahead,” ventured
Jack, who himself knew that the dawn was really coming on, though he
did not wish to admit as much to Amos, for fear of increasing the
other’s unrest.
“Why, yes, there are a number of them, too. Try your glass on the same,
Jack. It does pretty good night work, as well as in the daytime.”
A minute later and Jack made an announcement.
“As near as I can make out they seem to be smouldering camp-fires,
Amos.”
“Oh! that must mean we are in sight of the camp of the
Territorials--those fellows from the other side of the world,
Australia, New Zealand and perhaps South Africa. Then it can’t be long
now before we get in close enough to launch a boat, and start for the
shore.”
The minutes passed. Jack saw the darkness was beginning to be
dissipated; already the gray of dawn had come. His flesh tingled with
eagerness to learn what difference that would make. Possibly the
enemy was kept at a sufficient distance from the landing place by the
presence of the troops ashore, so that it was really safe to use a
small boat without any great risk, even in the gray mists of early dawn.
“Oh! see what the sailors are pointing at over there, Jack!” suddenly
exclaimed Amos. “It looks like a pole sticking out of the water, only
it’s moving all the time. Jack, I wonder now can that be the periscope
of one of those terrible submarines?”
And Jack, fastening his eyes on the odd sight, hastened to add:
“It seems almost too strange to be true, Amos, but I do believe you’re
right!”