A TRIANGULAR ACTION WITH GREAT GUNS
When Mr. Baskirk went on deck to take his watch at midnight, the fog
had disappeared, and a fresh breeze was blowing from the westward. This
change was reported to the captain, and he went on deck. No sail had
been seen since the fog cleared off, and Christy returned to his state
room, where he was soon asleep again. He was called, as he had directed,
at four in the morning, but no change in the weather was reported, and
no sail had been seen.
At four bells in the morning watch two sails were reported to him, one
dead ahead, and the other on the port beam. He hastened to the deck, and
found Mr. Amblen using his spyglass, and trying to make out the distant
sails. The one at the northeast of the Bronx was making a long streak of
black smoke on the sky, and there was no such appearance over the other.
Both were steamers.
"The one ahead of us is the Ocklockonee," said Captain Passford, after
he had used the spyglass. "I have no doubt the other is the Arran.
Probably she has a new name by this time, but I have not heard it yet.
Pass the word for Mr. Ambleton."
This was the gunner, and he was directed to fire a single shot, blank,
from the midship gun. This was immediately done, and was the signal
agreed upon with Flint if either discovered the Arran. It was promptly
answered by a similar discharge on board of the Ocklockonee, indicating
that she had seen the steamer in question.
"Now, make her course southeast, Mr. Amblen," said Christy, after the
two signals had been made.
"Southeast, sir," responded the second lieutenant, giving the course to
the quartermaster at the wheel.
The commander of the Ocklockonee changed his course as soon as the Bronx
had done so. Both steamers were headed directly towards the sail in the
southeast, and both were running for the apex of the triangle where the
third steamer was located.
The captain visited every part of the vessel, and gave orders to have
breakfast served at once, for he expected there would be lively times
before many hours. Everything was overhauled, and put in order. At eight
bells, when Mr. Baskirk took the deck, the captain did not care how soon
the battle began. Everything was ready and waiting, and he went below
for his breakfast.
From delicacy or some other motive Captain Dinsmore spent most of
his time in the ward room; but he was called to breakfast with the
commander. Both captains were as polite to each other as they had been
the evening before, but it was evident to Christy that his guest was
quite uneasy, as though he had discovered what had transpired on deck;
and the movements there were quite enough to inform him without a word
from any one. He had not asked a question of any person on board; and it
was impossible for him to know that a sail supposed to be the Arran was
in sight.
"I have heard some firing this morning, Captain Passford," said he as he
seated himself at the table, and watched the expression of his host's
countenance.
"Merely a couple of signals; the distant shot came from the
Ocklockonee," replied Christy lightly.
"I thought it possible that you had fallen in with another steamer,"
added the guest.
"I have considered it more than possible, and within the limits of
probability, that we should fall in with another steamer ever since we
ran so opportunely upon the Scotian, as she was formerly called."
"Opportunely for you, but very inopportunely for me," added Captain
Dinsmore with a faint smile.
"I am happy to inform you that we have passed beyond both possibility
and probability, and come into the region of fact," continued Christy.
"Then you have made out a sail?" asked the guest anxiously.
"We have; a steamer on our port beam; and I am reasonably confident it
is the vessel you supposed was coming alongside the Ocklockonee last
evening."
"Indeed?" added the guest, as though he did not know just what to say,
and did not mean to commit himself.
"In other words, I am almost sure this steamer is the Arran, though
doubtless you have changed her name," said Christy, as he helped the
other from the choicest dish on the table.
"The Arran?" repeated Captain Dinsmore, manifesting but not expressing
his surprise that his companion in a different service from his own knew
this name.
"Perhaps you can give me her later name, as I have no doubt she is or
will be called after some southern river, which is quite proper, and
entirely patriotic. Perhaps she is called the Perdido, which is not
very far from Perdition, where I shall do my best to send her unless she
surrenders within a reasonable time, or runs away from me," said Captain
Passford lightly. "Is your coffee quite right, Captain Dinsmore?"
"It is very good indeed, captain, thank you."
"Perhaps it is too strong for you, like the United States Navy, and you
would prefer it weaker," suggested Christy.
"It is quite right as it is, and, like the United States Navy of which
you speak, it will be used up in a short time," replied the guest as
pleasantly as the captain of the Bronx.
"That is yet to be settled," laughed Christy.
"Well, captain, the coffee is settled, and that is more than can be said
of our navy, which will be as clear as this in due time."
"I thought it best to inform you that we might be in action in the
course of a couple of hours, and you were to notify me in case you
wished to change your status on board," added Christy more seriously.
"I am much obliged to you, Captain Passford, for your courtesy and
kindness, but I see no reason to change my position. I will still
confine myself to the cabin and ward room. I cannot wish you success in
the action in which you are about to engage, for it would break my heart
to have the Arran, as you call her, captured," added the guest.
"I think you may fairly count upon such a result," replied Christy
confidently.
"You must excuse me, Captain Passford, but I think you are reckoning
without your host, and therein your youth makes its only manifestation,"
said the guest, shaking his head. "I can only say that, when you are a
prisoner on board of the Escambia, I shall do my best to have you as
handsomely treated as I have been in your cabin."
"Thank you, captain; I assure you I shall appreciate any courtesy and
kindness extended to me. The Escambia is her name then. That is not so
near Perdition as the word I suggested, and I am glad it is not so long
as the name you gave the Scotian. I shall expect to come across an
Apalachicola in due time. They are all very good names, but we shall be
compelled to change them when they fall into our hands," said Christy.
"I have plenty of spare time on my hands just now, and perhaps I had
better think up a new name for the Bronx; and Apalachicola would be as
good as any other. I wonder you did not call her the Nutcracker, for her
present name rather suggests that idea."
"I have heard a similar remark before; but she is not big enough for
such a long name as the one you suggest, and you would have to begin
to pronounce it before breakfast in order to get it out before the dog
watches," said Christy, as he rose from the table and went on deck.
The first thing he noticed when he came on the bridge was that the
Ocklockonee was headed to intercept the Bronx. Captain Flint signalled
that he wished to speak to him, and he changed his course to comply with
the request. At the end of another hour they came together, the Arran
being still at least four miles distant, going very slowly if she was
moving at all.
Christy had written out his orders for Captain Flint in full. So far
as he had been able to judge of the speed of the other steamer, it
appeared to be about the same as that of the Bronx. He had directed the
Ocklockonee to get to the southward of the Arran. A boat was sent to her
with the orders, and Flint immediately proceeded to obey them. The Bronx
slowed down her engines to enable the other to gain her position; but
the Arran did not seem to be willing to permit her to do this, and gave
chase to her at once.
The commander of the Bronx met this change by one on his own part, and
went ahead with all the speed he could get out of her. The Confederate
steamer was farther to the eastward than either of the other two, and
after the changes of position which Christy had brought about in
speaking the Ocklockonee, the Arran was nearly southeast of both of the
others. Flint went directly to the south, and Christy ran for the enemy.
All hands had been beaten to quarters on board of the Bronx, and the
captain was on the bridge, watching with the most intense interest the
progress of the other two vessels. It was soon apparent to him that
the Ocklockonee could not get into the position to which she had been
ordered under present circumstances, for the enemy was giving his whole
attention to her.
"There goes a gun from the enemy!" exclaimed Mr. Amblen, as a puff of
smoke rose from the forward deck of the Arran.
"The shot struck in the water," added Christy a moment later; "but the
two vessels are within range. There is the first shot from the
Ocklockonee! Captain Flint is not asleep."
The firing was done on both vessels with the heavy midship guns, and
doubtless the calibre of the pieces was the same; but Flint was the more
fortunate of the two, for his shot struck the smokestack of the enemy,
or partly upset it. Christy thought it was time for him to take a hand
in the game, and he ordered the midship gun to be fired, charged as it
was with a solid shot. The gunner aimed the piece himself, and the shot
was seen to tear up the water alongside of the enemy. He discharged the
piece four times more with no better result. Evidently he had not got
the hang of the gun, though he was improving at every trial.
Three steamers were rushing towards each other with all the fury steam
could give them, for the overthrow of the funnel of the enemy did not
disable her, though it probably diminished the draught of her furnaces.
Through the glass it could be seen that they were making an effort to
restore the fallen smokestack to its position. All three of the steamers
were delivering the fire of their midship guns very regularly, though
with little effect, the distance was so great. The gunner of the Bronx
was evidently greatly nettled at the number of solid shots he had
wasted, though the gun of the Ocklockonee had done little better so far
as could be seen. The three vessels were not much more than half a mile
from each other, and the enemy had begun to use his broadside guns.
"Good!" shouted Mr. Amblen suddenly after the gunner had just let off
the great gun. "That shot overturned the midship piece of the Arran.
Ambleton has fully redeemed himself." The announcement of the effect of
this last shot sent up a volley of cheers from the crew.
The Bronx and her consort had set the American flag at the beginning of
the action, and the Confederate had promptly displayed her ensign, as
though she scorned to go into action without having it fully understood
what she was. She did not claim to be a blockade runner, and do her best
to escape, but "faced the music," even when she realized that she had
two enemies instead of one.
Christy had evidently inherited some of the naval blood on his mother's
side, and he was not satisfied with the slow progress of the action, for
the shots from the broadside guns of the enemy were beginning to tell
upon the Bronx, though she had received no serious injury. He caused the
signal to prepare to board to be set as agreed upon with Captain Flint.
The orders already given were to be carried out, and both vessels bore
down on the Arran with all speed.