THE NEW ENGINEER OF THE PRIZE STEAMER
While enthusiastically pursuing his studies as an engineer, Christy
had visited a great many steamers with Paul Vapoor for the purpose of
examining the engines, so that he could hardly expect to find one with
whose construction he was not familiar, whether it was an American or a
foreign built machine. At the first glance after he entered the engine
room of the Havana, he knew the engine, and was ready to run it without
spending any time in studying it. He had brought the pilot with him in
order to come to an understanding in regard to the bells, for in the
navy the signals differ from those in the commercial marine.
"This steamer is provided with a gong and a jingling bell," said
Christy, as he pointed them out to his companion.
"My little steamer on this coast was run with just such bells," replied
Mr. Amblen.
"And so was the Bellevite, so that I am quite accustomed to the system
of signals; but it is well to be sure that we understand each other
perfectly if we expect to get this vessel out of the bay after we go
up to the port," added Christy.
"I agree with you entirely, sir. A single strong stroke on the gong is
to start or to stop her according to the circumstances," said the pilot.
"Precisely so; and two strokes are to back her," continued Christy.
"Going at full speed, the jingler brings the engine down to half speed,
or at half speed carries it up to full speed."
"That is my understanding of the matter," replied Mr. Amblen.
"Then we understand each other to a charm," continued the temporary
engineer. "Report to Mr. Flint that we are ready to go ahead."
Christy found a colored man who was on duty as an oiler, and four others
in the fire room, who seemed to be engaged in an earnest discussion of
the situation, for the capture of the Havana was a momentous event to
all of them. The oiler was at work, and had thoroughly lubricated the
machinery, as though he intended that any failure of the steamer should
not be from any fault on his part.
The new official set two of the firemen at work, though the boilers had
a good head of steam. The gong bell gave one sharp stroke, and Christy
started the engine.
The Havana was headed out to sea when she was captured, and in the slack
water she had not drifted at all. He went ahead slowly, and soon had the
bell to stop her; but he expected this, for the channel was narrow, and
it required considerable manoeuvring to get the steamer about. Then he
happened to think of the guns on the Seahorse Key, and through the
speaking tube he passed the word to Mr. Flint to have him land there
in order to take the guns and ammunition on board.
After a great deal of backing and going ahead, the Havana was headed
for the key, where she was stopped as near to it as the depth of water
would permit. The guns and other material were brought off, two of the
firemen, the oiler, and other colored men of the crew of the Havana
assisting in the work. The two guns that were provided with carriages
were mounted, and placed on the forecastle. They were loaded and
prepared for service by the trained gunners of the crew. Christy had
directed all this to be done on account of the delay which had attended
the good fortune of the expedition, for he might not get out of the bay
before the daylight came to reveal the presence of the force he
commanded to the people on the shore.
The gong rang again when all these preparations had been made, and the
Havana steamed slowly up the channel towards the bay. The oiler appeared
to have finished his work for the present. He was a more intelligent man
than the others of his color on board, and seemed to understand his
duties. Christy spoke to him, for he said nothing unless he was spoken
to, and he had learned that the commander of the expedition was doing
duty as engineer in the absence of any other competent person.
"How many schooners are there at the landing place at the keys?" asked
Christy.
"Only two schooners, sir," replied the man very respectfully.
"Are they loaded, --what is your name?" asked the engineer.
"My name is Dolly, sir."
"Dolly? That is a girl's name."
"My whole name is Adolphus, sir; but everybody calls me Dolly, and
I can't help myself," replied the oiler soberly, as though he had a
real grievance on account of the femininity of his nickname. "The two
schooners are not quite loaded, sir, but they are very nearly full. They
had some trouble here, among the hands."
"Had some trouble, did they? I should think there were soldiers enough
here to keep everything straight. How many artillerists or soldiers do
they keep here?" added Christy.
"They had about forty, but they don't have half that number now."
"What has become of them?"
"They were sent away to look for the hands that took to the woods. One
of the officers and about half of the men were sent off yesterday,"
replied Dolly, who seemed willing to tell all he knew.
"Why did the men run off?" asked Christy curiously.
"They brought about fifty hands, all slaves, down here to load the
steamer and the schooners. They set them at work yesterday morning, and
they had nearly put all the cotton into the schooners at dinner time.
To make the niggers work harder, they gave them apple jack."
"What is that?" asked the engineer, who never heard the name before.
"It is liquor made out of apples, and it is very strong," answered
Dolly; and he might have added that it was the vilest intoxicant to
be found in the whole world, not even excepting Russian vodka.
"And this liquor made the hands drunk, I suppose."
"They did not give them enough for that, sir; but it made them kind of
crazy, and they wanted more of it. That made the trouble; the hands
struck for liquor before dinner, and when they didn't get it, they took
to the woods, about fifty of them. The soldiers had to get their dinner
before they would start out after them; and that is the reason the
schooners are not full now, sir, and not a bale had been put into this
steamer."
"But she seems to be fully loaded now."
"Yes, sir; Captain Lonley paid the soldiers that were left to load the
Havana. They worked till eleven in the evening; they were not used to
that kind of work, and they got mighty tired, I can tell you," said
Dolly, with the first smile Christy had seen on his yellow face, for he
appeared to enjoy the idea of a squad of white men doing niggers' work.
"That was what made them sleep so soundly, and leave the battery on the
point to take care of itself," said Christy. "Where were the officers?"
"Two of them have gone on the hunt for the hands, and I reckon the
captain is on a visit to a planter who has a daughter, about forty miles
from here."
"The soldiers were sleeping very soundly in the barrack about two this
morning; and perhaps they were also stimulated with apple jack," added
Christy. "Did you drink any of it, Dolly?"
"No, sir, I never drink any liquor, for I am a preacher," replied the
oiler, with a very serious and solemn expression on his face.
"How do you happen to be a greaser on a steamer if you are a preacher?"
"I worked on a steamer on the Alabama River before I became a preacher,
and I took it up again. I was raised in a preacher's family, and worked
in the house."
He talked as though he had been educated, but he could neither read nor
write, and had picked up all his learning by the assistance of his ears
alone. But Christy had ascertained all he wished to know in regard to
the schooners, and he was prepared to carry out his mission in the bay.
At the fort it appeared that all the commissioned officers were absent
from the post, and the men, after exhausting themselves at work to which
they were unaccustomed, had taken to their bunks and were sleeping off
the fatigue, and perhaps the effects of the apple jack. While he was
thinking of the matter, the gong struck, and Christy stopped the engine.
"Do you know anything about an engine, Dolly?" he asked, turning to the
oiler.
"Yes, sir; I run the engine of the Havana over here from Mobile,"
replied Dolly. "I can do it as well as any one, if they will only trust
me."
"Then stand by the machine, and obey the bells if they are struck,"
added Christy, as he went on deck.
He found the second and third lieutenants standing on the rail engaged
in examining the surroundings. The day was just beginning to show itself
in the east, though it was not yet light enough to enable them to see
clearly on shore. By the side of the railroad building was a pier, at
which the two schooners lay. They could hear the sounds of some kind of
a stir on shore, but were unable to make out what it meant.
"We are losing time," said Christy, as he took in at a glance all he
deemed it necessary to know in regard to the situation.
"I was about to report to you, Mr. Passford; but Mr. Amblen wished to
ascertain whether or not there is a battery on this side of the point,"
said Flint.
"Do you find anything, Mr. Amblen?"
"No, sir; I can see nothing that looks like a battery," replied the
pilot.
"Then run in, and we will make fast to these schooners and haul them
out," added Christy in hurried tones.
The pilot went to the wheel, and rang one bell on the gong. Dolly
started the engine before Christy could reach the machine. He said
nothing to the oiler, but seated himself on the sofa, and observed his
movements. A few minutes later came the bell to stop her, and then two
bells to back her. Dolly managed the machine properly and promptly, and
seemed to be at home in the engine room. The color of his skin was a
sufficient guaranty of his loyalty, but Christy remained below long
enough to satisfy himself that Dolly knew what he was about, and then
went on deck.
By this time the noise on shore had become more pronounced, and he saw
the dark forms of several persons on the wharf. Flint and Amblen were
making fast to the nearest schooner, and a couple of seamen had been
sent on shore to cast off the fasts which held her to the wharf. This
was the work of but a moment, and the two men returned to the steamer;
but they were closely followed by two men, one of whom stepped on the
deck of the schooner.
"What are you about here?" demanded the foremost of the men, in a rude
and impertinent manner.
"About our business," replied Christy, with cool indifference.
"Who are you, young man?" demanded the one on the deck.
"I am yours truly; who are you?"
"None of your business who I am! I asked you a question, and you will
answer it if you know when you are well off," blustered the man, who was
rather too fat to be dangerous; and by this time, Christy discovered
that he wore something like a uniform.
"I will try to find out when I am well off, and then I will answer you,"
replied Christy.
"All fast, sir," reported Flint.
The commander of the expedition, turning his back to the fat man, went
forward to the pilot house.