CHAPTER XIX.

One day in October, while Paul was walking down Broadway, New York, a

gentleman tapped him on the shoulder, saying: "This is Captain Boyton, I

believe?" On being answered in the affirmative, he continued:

"I have just returned from Europe, where I was looking for you. I have a

message for you from Don Nicholas de Pierola, but as I am known as an

agent of the Peruvian government, it is hardly safe to talk to you here,

as there are Chilean spies in New York as well as Lima. Meet me to-

night at this address." He slipped a card into Boyton's hand and stepped

quickly away.

That night Paul entered a house in Thirty-fourth street where he met the

stranger, who immediately proceeded to business by stating that Don

Nicholas de Pierola wanted Boyton to start for Peru at once, with a full

equipment of dresses, torpedo cases, electrical appliances, and

everything necessary for the destruction of Chilean vessels. It did not

take Paul long to arrange the preliminaries and before he left, a

contract was made by which he was to enter the Peruvian torpedo service,

with a commision of Captain. He was to receive one-hundred-thousand

dollars for the first Chilean vessel destroyed; one-hundred-and-twenty-

five thousand dollars for the second and one-hundred-and-fifty thousand

dollars for the third. Three Chilean vessels that were desired most to

be destroyed were named. They were the Huascar, Blanco Encalado, and

Almirante Corcoran.

Next day Boyton was busy getting the necessary equipment together, happy

in the thought of more adventure and chances of big prize money. He

also received credentials as a newspaper correspondent under the name of

Pablo Delaport. He told his family he was going to take a little run

to Panama, but said nothing about Peru. On October 10th, 1880,

accompanied by his assistant, George Kiefer, he embarked on the steamer

Crescent City for Aspinwall, arriving at that port on the 19th, whence

they crossed to Panama and were compelled to wait there two days for the

Columbia to bear them south, to Peru. One of the passengers from New

York, was a curious and erratic character, who was the possessor of

a weighty secret. After much mystery, he decided to make Boyton his

confidant, and he solemnly revealed to him the matter that was bearing

on his brain. It was to the effect that a great treasure was buried on

a distant island and he was about fitting out an expedition to go in

search of it. A female relative, who was a clairvoyant, had located

the treasure and he was sure of finding it. He was anxious for Paul to

join him in the search, and displayed almost insane disappointment at

receiving a refusal. At Panama, the fortune hunter purchased an outfit

of arms, including a commander's sword which he strapped on and strutted

about with the air of a bold buccaneer. He chartered a vessel in which

he sailed for the treasure island; but, as Paul afterward learned,

returned after great suffering and loss, minus the treasure.

A Chilean man-of-war, the Amazonas, was anchored at Panama on the

lookout for a torpedo launch that was expected to arrive for the

Peruvian government from New York. In his capacity of a newspaper

correspondent, Boyton went on board the man-of-war to inspect her, with

an idea that he might have an opportunity sometime to feel her bottom

with a one-hundred-and-fifty pound torpedo. He was escorted through the

vessel by her Captain and took copious notes of her construction and

armament. As he was over-going the side into the boat to return to

shore, an English engineer spanned him carefully and remarked: "Your

face seems familiar to me. Where have I seen you before?"

Paul replied that he could not possibly tell as his duties led him to

all parts of the world, and he hurriedly entered the boat.

The next day they set sail and on the 24th, sighted Dead Man's Island at

the mouth of the Guayquil river. From a certain point the island bears a

startling resemblance to a gigantic man afloat on his back. Hence its

name. They steamed up the river about sixty miles to Guayquil. The

chattering of parrots and paroquettes along the shore was almost

deafening. Flocks of them would hover over the vessel for several

minutes at a time and fly back to the forest.

Guayquil is one of the hottest towns on earth, though not one of the

cleanest. The stenches arising from the filthy streets and byways

are overpowering, and fever flags fly from nearly every third or fourth

house. The steamer lay in the middle of the river while discharging

her cargo into lighters and the passengers took advantage of the wait

for a trip across into the city. From the landing place crowds of

boys followed them, offering monkeys and alligators for sale. The latter

were from six inches to three feet long, strapped on boards to keep

them from biting. They are much quicker and more savage than the North

American alligator.

After the cargo was discharged, the vessel was again put under way and

on the 26th they anchored off Paita, the first Peruvian port. Paul took

a long walk on the beach at that place, and for the first time saw the

curious, blood red crabs that dwell in myriads along the shore. At a

distance they look like a big red wave; but as they are approached,

quickly disappear into holes in the sand, and on looking back, they

are seen in countless thousands in the rear. Their habits are similar to

the hermit crab. They are small and not edible, quick as rats

and difficult to catch.

Chimbote was the next place in Peru at which the steamer anchored. That

port was then in the hands of the Chileans and the stop was only long

enough to take on the mail, when they headed for Callao, the principal

port of Peru. As the Chilean fleet then blockaded the port no steamers

were permitted to land there, but when off the city, the Columbia

steamed through the blockaders, much to Paul's anxiety, because of a man

on board who had been questioning him rather closely regarding his

intentions in visiting Peru and Boyton had every reason to believe him a

spy, and looked every moment for him to signal one of the blockading

vessels; but fortunately the Columbia was allowed to proceed on

her way unmolested to the port of Chilca where there are only a few

miserable houses. The steamer landed there at night and Paul with his

companion and five other passengers were put ashore in a small boat.

Accommodations for the entertainment of travelers were very poor, but

they made the best of it for the night, though they were nearly devoured

by fleas, which, combined with the fact that it was necessary to guard

closely their baggage, prevented the enjoyment of any repose. A train

of mules was chartered next morning to bear them across the pampas to

Lima. All day long they bestrode those razor backed mules, riding

through wild country, now over bleak and desolate hills, then across

barren plains. The absence of even a spear of grass bespoke the

unfruitfulness of the soil, while large condors and galanasas hovered

overhead, waiting for man or mule to fall, overcome by the heat; then

they would alight with exultant cries to a horrible feast. The water

of the caravan was rapidly exhausted and they suffered the pangs of

thirst. Toward evening, with parched throats and weary bodies they

reached an oasis in the shape of a poor village. There was water in

abundance however, and that was more precious to the wayfarers than

the sight of great palaces. Being refreshed, they proceeded to the

town of Lurin, where they arrived late at night and found the place

occupied by Peruvian troops. An ambitious officer of the company,

selected Paul for a victim and placed him under arrest as a Chilean spy.

The officer would listen to no explanations, but compelled his

prisoner to travel on that night, though he was so fatigued by the day's

journey that he could scarcely sit on his mule. There was no help

for it, so Kiefer was left with the baggage and Paul, closely guarded,

rode off into the sultry night During the small hours of the morning,

the troop arrived at Chorrillos, at which place, Boyton positively

refused to go further, being too nearly exhausted to proceed.

The officer decided to remain until daylight and go on to Lima by rail.

As tired as the prisoner was, he could not sleep on account of the

ravenous attacks of fleas which drove him almost mad. At daylight he was

taken by railway train to Lima and on arrival there was

immediately marched to the palace, where he was to be presented as a spy

to his friend, Don Nicholas de Pierola, the Dictator.

The impertinent officer arrived at the palace with his prisoner, under

the impression that he would receive a handsome reward for making such a

notable arrest. When Paul pulled out a packet, addressed to Don

Nicholas, the fellow was rather surprised; but continued to treat the

supposed spy with overbearing harshness, until Boyton was released from

his presence and taken before the Dictator, where he was cordially

received and many references made to their former pleasant meeting in

Paris.

"But how did you get here so soon?" inquired Don Nicholas, "other

passengers who were on board the Columbia have not yet arrived."

Paul related the story of his capture at Lurin and of his all night ride

on mule back. The Dictator sent for the officer, who, thinking he was

going to be rewarded for his cleverness, entered the reception room with

a peacock strut that was admirable. By the time Don Nicholas finished a

reprimand, he slunk away like a whipped cur and it is likely he was more

careful to investigate thereafter when making arrests.

The Dictator sent Paul to the Hotel Americano, where fine quarters were

prepared for him and he took a much needed rest, not waking until the

next day when a message was conveyed to him from Don Nicholas to the

effect that they were going to Ancon that day to try some

torpedo experiments. Much refreshed, he was quickly ready to accompany

them.

Ancon is a small seaside resort about fifteen miles from Lima. At that

time it was almost entirely deserted on account of the frequent

bombarding by the Chilean cruisers as they passed up and down the coast.

Whenever those aboard the cruisers wished amusement, they turned their

guns on Ancon and knocked over a few houses.

The party consisting of the Dictator, several high government officials,

Boyton and Major Rabauld, who had been transferred to him as an aid,

went down on a special car drawn by a little engine named the Favorita,

furnished by the railroad company, which was largely owned by

Americans.

The experiments took place between several rocky islands, that have

probably been detached from the mainland by volcanic action, and the

shore. The torpedoes were tried on dummy vessels, while a troop of

soldiers stood guard at all the approaches to the place in order

to prevent inquisitive individuals as well as Chilean spies, from

learning the nature of the work going on. Don Nicholas was highly

pleased and was in fine spirits at the thought of getting rid of some

of the powerful vessels that darkened his harbor with their frowning

ports. On their return trip, the Favorita had proceeded less than one

mile, when the little engine ran plump into a sand pile that had been

carried up by the wind, and was thrown from the track on to a plain

that had once been a burial place of the ancient Incas. All efforts to

put the engine and car back on the track were fruitless, and a

messenger was sent back to Ancon to telegraph to Lima for an extra

engine to assist in righting the little train. As the telegraph

service was extremely slow, the party was compelled to wait all day for

the relief engine. In the meantime, Don Nicholas and his staff,

went out on the pampas and stood about the sand hills talking over the

struggle they were having with their neighbors. During that time, a

Chilean cruiser passed about one mile off shore, and had the importance

of the little group been known to those on board, they could have

captured the Dictator without a great deal of trouble.

The soldiers gathered up the skulls and bones of Incas that were strewn

about and amused themselves by playing ten pins on the hard sand,

sticking the bones up and rolling the skulls at them. Don Nicholas paid

no attention to the gruesome sport; but stood calmly conversing with

the officers who surrounded him.

It was almost dark when the relief engine came puffing into sight; but a

short time sufficed to place the car on the track and the party

arrived safely at Lima.

On the following day, Paul went down to Callao, bearing a letter from

the Dictator to General Astate, commander of the fort, requesting him to

furnish Boyton with the best small vessel obtainable for torpedo work.

The General received Paul in the kindest possible manner, and took him

out to the Punta del Mar Bravo, where fortifications were located, and

calling his attention to some American parrot guns, patted one of them

and smilingly remarked:

"These are some compatriots of yours."

With that, the General gave orders to fire at the Chilean fleet which

was then laying near San Lorenzo, an island several miles out from

Callao and so high are its cliffs that they penetrate the clouds. Four

or five shots were fired at the blockading vessels; but they were too

far off, as the iron balls could be seen throwing spray in the air at

some distance to the landward of them. "That is a salute in your honor,"

remarked the General.

That evening, after having overhauled every available craft in the

harbor, General Astate gave Paul a little sloop, the only thing that

could possibly be used in torpedo attacks; but far from being the

powerful little steam launch that had been promised. The Peruvian

steamers at that time were all corralled in the harbor at Callao. They

were not strong enough to grapple with the powerful men-of-war of the

Chileans that so saucily watched the port, hence they remained inside

under the protection of the guns at the fort and at the point, while

great piles of sand bags were erected to the seaward of the docks as a

shield against Chilean cannon balls.

Paul was therefore compelled to enter upon his torpedo work, terribly

handicapped by the poor equipment of the Peruvians; but determined to

make the best use of the means at hand. The little sloop was called the

Alicran. She was quickly provisioned and a crew shipped. Before

embarking on her, Don Nicholas sent for Boyton and commissioned him as

Captain in the Peruvian Navy. She was then sailed around to Chorrilos,

as Paul considered that the best point from which to begin operations on

the Chilean fleet. There he made his headquarters at a hacienda which a

wealthy Peruvian turned over to him and anchored the sloop close in

shore under the shelter of the cliffs, and began the manufacture of

torpedoes. One thousand pounds of dynamite had been sent down to him in

wagons from Lima, and under his directions, the crew was soon engaged

in stowing it away in the rubber cases.

When the torpedoes were ready, he began cruising to the seaward in order

to reconnoiter the movements of the blockading squadron, which every

night would trip anchor and stand off to sea. The Chilean's fear of

torpedoes deterred them from laying in to shore at night. Paul drilled

the officers that were placed under him in the use of the rubber dress

and in handling torpedoes; but he did not find them overly energetic

in their work. They spent most of their time among the islands, that

were formed by great rocks which had been cast from the mainland

by earthquake or volcanic action, watching the movements of the

Chileans. All day long the blockading vessels would lay in sight; but

at night they would steam further out to sea and stand slowly up and

down the coast. Night after night Paul and his crew watched for an

opportunity to place one of their torpedoes under the dark hull of a

Chilano; but the latter were on the alert for them, having been informed

that Boyton had been engaged by Peru. The phosphorescence of the water

at night was also against them. The least disturbance on its surface

would cause a glow of silver to flash in the darkness that could be

seen for quite a distance.

One night as they were watching from Chorrillos, a cruiser was sighted

steaming slowly up the coast and Paul determined to test her alertness

at all hazards. He put on his dress and taking a one hundred pound

torpedo in tow, paddled out as carefully as possible until he saw her

head toward him. Then he set the fly torpedo across what he thought

would be her track and pulled in shore. Had the cruiser picked the line

up with her bow, it would have thrown the torpedo along her side,

setting an automatic wheel in motion that would explode it. When he had

reached a safe distance, he turned to see the vessel blown up and to

his intense disappointment, the cruiser turned a gatling gun on the

torpedo. The Chileans were more watchful than he had given them credit

for.

After the Chilean had discovered the torpedo, the little sloop barely

escaped by putting out her sweeps and drawing close up under the land,

by that means reaching Chorrillos next morning in safety. A party of

marines from the cruiser were landed on an island near where they

had discovered the torpedo, next day, to hunt out those who had placed

it. Fortunately for Paul and his crew they had eluded the cruiser

under cover of the night. For some two months after the above adventure,

the torpedo men laid under the shelter of the batteries on the top of

Moro, a high bluff. They made sorties every night; but the Chileans were

on the watch for them, besides the sloop was so slow as to be

almost useless, and Paul's Peruvians had a wholesome dread of the

enemies' guns which could be turned with great rapidity in any

direction. Daily they sailed to some barren, desolate island, hoping for

a chance to blow one of the Chilean's vessels out of the water. The

Huascar stood up and down the coast at times, almost within range of

the Peruvian guns. As she was one of the vessels Paul wanted to get, he

determined to lay in her track and risk an attempt to destroy her.

With such intention, he ran the sloop out as far as he could, one night,

and went overboard in his dress, with a screw torpedo, that would

have blown the Huascar as high as the topmost peaks of San Lorenzo. It

was a favorable night--dark, with a choppy sea that turned the

phosphorescent lights up, all over the surface, so that no single object

could be distinguished in it. He sighted the Huascar crawling slowly

along the coast, with not a light to be seen aboard of her. Being short

of coal, her fires were banked and she was carried forward by her own

momentum. When there was danger of her losing steerage way, her engines

would be started again and then shut down as before. Thus she was slowly

creeping along the coast line.

Her bow glided by Paul not more than twenty feet away. He moved

cautiously to her side expecting to catch hold of her rudder chain. He

saw one-hundred-thousand dollars in his grasp. Now, he thought, "one of

the most powerful enemies of Peru will be put beyond doing damage." When

he was about midship and was preparing to reach for her chain, the

steersman's bell rang a signal to the engineer, her wheel began to

revolve and she slipped by him out of danger, of which those on board

were unconscious. Paul was terribly discomfited at the result of that

attempt which was so near being successful. He left the torpedo

floating on the sea and struck out to reach shore before daylight

discovered him, knowing that it would be impossible to gain the sloop.

The next move of the torpedo men was to sail to all the outside islands,

which are literally alive with seals and sea lions. So thick were

those mammals, that the guns were frequently turned on them. Their

numbers so emboldened them that unless frightened away, they would

attack the intruders on their territory. From those islands Paul took

observations of the movements of the Chileans and came to the

conclusion that they were running so short of coal that all of their

vessels did not steam out to sea at night; but some of them anchored

back of San Lorenzo. He made up his mind to visit that island some

night to assure himself that his idea was correct. One end of it is

detached from the main body as though split off by an earthquake, and

is called Fronton. Both Fronton and San Lorenzo are honeycombed by

numberless caves, cut out by the continual beating of the sea forced

by the two trade winds against the rocks; so too, is the entire coast of

Peru sieved by caves whose length or depth have never been explored.

Paul decided to make the reconnoiter of San Lorenzo by running the sloop

to Frouton, then paddle himself across to the main island and make his

way over it as far as he could until he discovered whether or not the

Chilean soldiers guarded the approaches to the night anchorage of their

vessels. He waited for a dark night and then put his scheme into

operation. He placed two one hundred pound torpedoes aboard the sloop

and stood away for Pronto. The crew displayed signs of nervousness at

running so close to the dreaded torpedo boats of the enemy, and it was

with some difficulty he kept them close at work. They glided along in a

heavy fog; but having dead bearing for compass and allowance for

currents all made, the fog did not bother the Captain in the least. The

crew was armed with carbines and ordered to make no noise as the sloop,

with a light wind, nosed in through the fog. Suddenly, as if coming

from the thick mist high above them, the sound of approaching oars was

heard. The men were ordered to get ready and hold their carbines at

ease; but to Paul's consternation, he observed they were ready to give

up even before they saw an enemy. They said the Chileans were sure to

hang them for being in the torpedo service even if they were not shot

down in fight and it mattered little which way they went so long as

there was no chance for escape.

Knowing that prompt and harsh measures would be the only means of

handling the quaking cowards, Boyton seized a carbine and in a

determined manner told them that the first man who refused to fire when

the order was given, would receive a bullet through his head.

"Now stand by and await orders, no matter who or what is coming," he

thundered.

A moment later, the strokes of the sweeps were almost under them.

"Que venga," hailed the Captain.

The oars were immediately stopped and a trembling voice answered in

Spanish:

"Fishermen, fishermen; don't shoot."

Seeing nothing more formidable than a couple of poor fishermen who were

willing to brave the vigilance of the Chileans for the sake of a catch,

the crew at once became very brave and bustled about as though they were

willing to sail right into the entire fleet of the enemy.

In a short time the breakers were heard booming in on the rocks of

Frouton and the sloop was run to a safe anchorage under the cliffs,

in smooth water. Paul prepared for the trip to San Lorenzo and ordered

the crew to remain by the sloop until three o'clock in the morning as

that would give them ample time to reach the mainland before the

Chileans could sight them. Launching the two torpedoes, he paddled

across the narrow but rough channel, intending to plant the torpedoes

for future use. He struck under the towering cliffs of the island and

pursued his way along them looking for a safe landing place. At times

he passed great openings in the cliffs, into which huge waves rolled and

sounded back as though dashing against some obstruction far away in the

bowels of the island, and the heavy, saline smell of seals and sea

lions escaped through the openings. At length he came to a place where

he could land without being flung against the rocks. He hauled the

torpedoes up on a smooth beach, placed them carefully under a shelf of

rock, removed the rubber dress and in his stocking feet began to climb

the steep side of the island with the intention of discovering how far

the Chilean outposts extended in his direction. It was a tiresome climb.

Up over guano beds and broken rock, and as the wind was off shore,

scarcely a breath of air came to cool the heated atmosphere and as he

toiled on, the perspiration fairly streamed from his pores. When he

reached the top, a cool land breeze fanned his perspiring face and with

an exclamation of pleasure, he seated himself on a rock to rest and

cool off. At the same moment, a dark figure started up, not thirty yards

away. There was a flash of fire, a report and a bullet passed close

to Paul's head. He drew his revolver with the intention of shooting at

the figure which was retreating; but not knowing how many soldiers

there might be around, he refrained. There was a lapse of but a few

seconds, when gun after gun was heard cracking in nearly every quarter

and that was proof to him that sentries were stationed all over the

island. Knowing that a general alarm had been given, he began a rapid

descent of the cliffs, well aware of the fatal consequences if the

Chileans captured him. Every moment he expected a company of soldiers

to pounce upon him, or that their torpedo boats would capture him at the

foot of the cliff. Shot after shot followed him as he made for the

place at which he had concealed his dress, with all the speed with which

he was possessed. Being less cautious in the descent than he had been

in going up, he loosened great masses of guano and rock that rolled down

ahead of him. When he reached the breakers again, an avalanche of

guano had covered his dress. He hurriedly searched up and down the beach

until he discovered one foot of the rubber pantaloons sticking out

from under the guano. He pulled it out and was soon paddling across the

gut again. As he ran under the cliff where the sloop had been

anchored, he could not see her; but as he rose on the waves he

discovered her nearly out of sight, standing away for the mainland,

with all canvas spread. The crew had heard the firing, had weighed

anchor and sailed for the protection of their own guns, under the

impression that their Captain had been killed; in fact, such was the

report they made on their arrival at Lima.

Appreciating the fact that he would surely be discovered by the enemy if

he attempted to paddle to the mainland in the dress; if not during the

night, certainly in the morning, for he could not hope to reach safely

before daylight revealed him. What should he do? He now knew that San

Lorenzo was heavily guarded and there was no hope of shelter on Frouton.

It were better to challenge the mercy of the monsters of the deep than

that of his human foes, so he quickly made up his mind to return and

conceal himself under the crags of San Lorenzo in one of the caverns

which he had passed. He paddled back through the heavily rolling waves

and got under the cliffs of the island, looking every moment to be run

down by a torpedo boat; but fortunately his pursuers missed him and he

felt a wave of hot air, impregnated with that saline smell which

betokened the entrance to a cave. Then he could see a blacker spot than

the darkness that surrounded him, which he knew was the entrance. He

unhesitatingly struck for it, the mountain seeming to close over and

swallow him as he entered the mysterious chamber of the sea. Cautiously

he made his way back, not knowing what creatures he might encounter.

Slowly and with straining eyes he advanced through the thick blackness,

until he could hear the breathing and stirring of what he rightly

conjectured to be seals. He sounded with his paddle and found it to

be of insufficient length to show him the depth of water. Reaching a

ledge of rock which had been rendered slippery by the constant sliding

of slimy seals over it, he drew himself up, having to use great care

not to cut the dress on the sharp edges of numberless shells which he

found everywhere wedged in the interstices of the rock. When he reached

a place against the back wall where he thought he could keep himself

from sliding into the water, there was an ominous growl, one or two

splashes below, then for a moment all was quiet again except the

mournful washing of the waves far back in the mysterious depths and

the heavy breathing of the sea animals about him; but what they were he

was not sure, whether they would attack him or not, he could not tell,

and could only trust in Providence to keep him safe. The noise of

snapping, snarling and growling was kept up and through the watches

of that dreadful night, he never closed an eye.

As the rays of the tropical morning sun began to penetrate the gloom,

Paul looked around him. Everywhere along the sides of the cavern were

ledges and shelves of rock; covering these was an army of seals and sea

lions waking from their night's rest. They would raise their bodies

half upright from their stony beds, stretch their flippers and yawn,

much after the manner of a human being, then drop into the water and

make off toward the open sea in search of their breakfast. Stretched on

his ledge, in the black rubber dress, Paul was probably taken for one

of their own species, for hundreds of them passed without noticing him.

Some of them, however, did discover him to be a strange intruder in

their lodging house. These would turn their great, round eyes on him,

circle off from the ledge, then with a quick flip of their flukes dart

toward the opening, gracefully cutting the water as they steered for

their fishing grounds. Some returned with a fish in their mouths,

shining like silver, and all day he had a chance to watch their

movements.

He was greatly interested in the peculiar manner in which they climbed

upon the ledges. They would raise their bodies almost out of the water,

place their flippers on the edge of the rock and with a quick flirt of

their flukes, project themselves to the shelf in the most graceful

manner. Later in the morning, Paul noticed one enormous brute on a ledge

opposite him and about fifty feet below. It appeared to be heavy and

sleepy. Around it were clustered several smaller ones, seeming to be its

immediate retainers or most intimate friends. The big fellow was

uneasy. Several times he lifted his head, looked about with his blood

shot eyes and then dropped back again as though to finish a nap. Paul

expected an attack and braced himself for it. The monster finally edged

slowly over and plunged into the water. He did not appear again until

he had passed Boyton's ledge, then he came to the surface, gave a loud

snort, either of defiance, fear or astonishment, sank again and went out

to join his comrades.

Paul dare not venture out of the cave in the daylight. He sat there in

his dress and dozens of baby seals crawled up on the ledge beside him,

playing all over and around him, some of them sucking the fingers of his

gloves with mouths like red coral. Sometimes the anxious mothers swam

in and bellowed at their young; but as they grew accustomed to the

stranger and saw no injury came to the little fellows, they became

quiet.

At sundown, the seals began pouring in again and climbed to their

respective couches, uttering the most weird cries, snarling and

bellowing as though quarreling about their beds. Paul had had nothing

to eat or drink all day; but owing to the dampness of the cavern, he

felt no thirst. Twilights are short in that latitude and nightfall

followed fast in the wake of sundown; so he quietly unlimbered himself,

slipped off the rock so as not to disturb the seals and dipping his

paddle gently in the phosphorescent water, slid out of the gloomy jaws

of the cave into the starlit night. He made a wide sweep against the

tide around Frouton and by steady, cautious pulling all night,

was close under the fortifications of Callao by morning.

Not wishing to land until daylight for fear of being shot by some of the

sentinels, he laid off and then came very near getting what he had

waited to escape, for in the grey light of the morning, he discovered a

sentinel with a gun aimed at him. He shouted "Peru, Peru," several

times before the guard would understand and lower the rifle.

Landing safely at last, he immediately proceeded to Lima to report to

the Dictator, and hurried back to take command of the sloop again.

The reconnoiter of San Lorenzo had convinced Paul that the island was

watched from end to end in the closest manner and it was useless to

attempt to work from there with the means at hand. He determined to lead

out in a different direction to accomplish his designs, and his next

move was a cruise due southward to the island off Pachacamac and

generally called by that name. The little sloop wound her way in and out

among the numerous rocky islets off the coast. Under their close shelter

she picked her way hidden from the Chilean cruisers that turned their

guns on everything not of their own kind, on the sea. The coast is

extremely wild and utterly deserted, formed of lofty ledges of rock,

hollowed into caverns underneath, by the insidious beating of the trade

wind waves. The chiseled doorways to those caves are rare specimens of

Nature's mysterious work; some large, some small and of queer, fantastic

shapes; that black-mouthed gape at chance passers, while towering high

above, a roof of table land--arid, scorching pampas, is just as

uninviting as the water way below. So desolate is that part of the coast

that it is but little known. Don Nicholas and a group of Peruvian

officers to whom Paul described the caves, expressed the utmost

astonishment, though born and bred within twenty five miles of their

mysterious recesses. The desert above is traversed only by a narrow

trail and is seldom used, while even the fishermen give the caverns

below a wide berth, being superstitious and fearful of the strange cries

that are heard echoing from their depths. That is why they are so

little known and never explored.

During the day, when a Chilean cruiser nosed around uncomfortably close,

the little sloop would be hugged under the lee of one of the islands,

sail lowered and anchor dropped. Paul was thus given an opportunity of

exploring the caves. Sometimes he paddled into them encased in his

rubber dress; but generally he used a little gig, carrying an ax, knife,

carbine and a few biscuits, spending whole days in those lonely places

whenever the sea permitted. Once while exploring along the coast, he

observed a great table rock that had been washed down until it rested

upon two natural pillars, forming the capstone of the entrance to a

great cave. The sea was rolling heavily at the time, but by cautiously

backing the gig, he succeeded in entering. A scene of marvelous beauty

met his wondering eyes. High above, the rays of the tropical sun

pierced the numerous cracks and crevices in the arched roof of the

cavern, illuminating with gorgeous coloring the submarine vegetation

which hung like long snakes from roof and walls. Here the curling

vines and tendrils glowed a deep purple; there, owing to changing

light, a dark green; everywhere, light greens, dark reds, pinks,

crimsons, yellows, greys, bright reds and every conceivable color. Sea

fans and, sea plumes there were in endless variety, while outside, in

the scorching heat, no sign of vegetation relieved the eye, inside was

cool and beautiful with the luxuriance of the flora of the sea. The

sides of the cavern were filled with molusca--radiantly colored shells,

sea urchins and innumerable specimens of marine life. Along the pale

green surfaces of shelving rocks, sea foxes, a fur bearing animal on

that coast; bright, wicked little fellows, darted about, uttering shrill

cries at the intrusion of the stranger as he drifted slowly back into

their fairylike abode. Paul felt as though he would like to have one

of the little fellows and raised his carbine to shoot; but it seemed

profanation to disturb the grand serenity and beauty of the scene.

The weapon was lowered and the animals allowed to play undisturbed.

The gig was backed slowly through the brilliant arches until the light

became dim and the darkening recesses wore a gruesome look. Thinking it

unsafe to penetrate further the vast, unknown aisles, Paul rowed out of

the yawning mouth after picking up many shells of every hue.

Next evening anchor was weighed and the sloop headed for Pachacamac. It

was beautiful moonlight. About midnight, sailing close in shore, they

were passing a white, sandy beach when one of the crew asked Boyton if

he would like some turtles, as the place they were then passing, swarmed

with them. An affirmative answer being given, the sloop was hove to,

while Paul and the sailor entered the gig and pulled ashore. Under

the strong rays of the moon, the turtles on the white sand appeared to

be as thick as ants. Selecting two or three of the smaller size for

their game, hundreds of them being too large to be turned over by their

united efforts, they quickly threw them on their backs while the others

ran into the sea with astonishing celerity considering their very poor

reputation for speed. Paul and the sailor transferred their capture to

the boat and in a short time the ugly animals were turned over to the

scientific ministrations of the cook. About ten o'clock next morning

they put into a little bay, bound in by rocks and well hidden, on the

shore side of the island of Pachacamac. There they passed several days,

and many fruitless attempts were made with floating torpedoes to

destroy the steamer Pilcamo. They worked only at night time and laid

under the friendly shelter of the rocks during the day.

It was their custom during the daytime to explore the ruins of the

ancient Inca buildings, the island having been the site of their temple

and used also as a place of burial; for their strange tombs are numerous

there. One of the crew was an expert in locating those Inca tombs.

By sinking a pointed rod in the sand he could easily tell when a grave

was below and after some laborious digging, the oven shaped top of the

tomb was exposed. With a heavy pick an opening would be made through the

sun burnt brick, and instantly a rush of foul air assailed the

nostrils, though the bodies had been buried there for perhaps thousands

of years.

When a hole large enough was made, Paul and the expert sailor would drop

through it into the oval space below. There they invariably found

several mummies seated in a circle, with their heads on the knees around

which their arms were clasped. Some of them were encased in wicker

work, others in cloth made of alpaca wool in brilliant colors and

gorgeous with curious designs. The bodies were wonderfully preserved. In

the center of these weird circles were found earthenware vessels

containing petrified corn. As the sun streamed in lighting up the awe

inspiring groups, whose history runs beyond all knowledge of the present

day, one could but think of the deep and wonderful secrets which the

grave conceals.

Paul gathered many curious things of prehistoric workmanship and only

regretted that the limited quarters of the sloop prevented his taking

all he desired. He was so deeply interested in excavating the tombs,

however, that regardless of his inability to carry more relics, he

prosecuted the search in the hope that he might discover something that

would throw mote light on the habits, customs and peculiarities of the

strange race. It struck him, however, that laborious digging through the

hot sand was not the best method of reaching the mummies, and he

overcame the difficulty by dropping a charge of dynamite which blew an

opening with sufficient force to have given the dried up Incas a

headache had they been sensible of feeling. He found many stone idols,

specimens of pottery, bracelets, anklets, chains and other ornaments

fashioned out of gold and silver and of strange designs.

Several days passed while exploring the mysterious tombs in the daylight

and watching for a chance to place a torpedo at night, when it was

discovered that the cruiser they were after had hauled off; so the

necessity of their staying there being removed, the sloop was headed

for Chorrilos. From the latter city they made short runs among the

islands in that neighborhood. While on those trips, they frequently

passed an island on one of the ledges of which, they often saw a

monster sea lion--the largest among the thousands in that locality. One

of his crew assured Paul that that lion was known to all the fisherman

and was remarkably cunning. Boyton at once made up his mind to capture

the brute. With that purpose in view, he ran the sloop for several days

to a point behind the island near the big lion's resting place, in

order to get him accustomed to their presence. He was always found

occupying the same ledge of rock, surrounded by smaller lions. For the

first two or three days, when the sloop approached, the monster would

rise on his flippers, bellow and dive off into the sea. Following his

plans, Boyton made no attempt to molest him; but brought the sloop

close under the island where the men would either sleep or spend their

time at fishing. In a few days the lion became so accustomed to the

sloop, that instead of diving he would lay on the rock and watch

curiously. If he did go off, he returned again after satisfying his

hunger. When it was thought he had lost all fear of them, Paul gave

orders to the men one morning to stand by with carbines ready to fire

as soon as the word was given. Sail was lowered and the sloop allowed to

drift in as close as the monster would permit. As soon as he raised his

great head and showed signs of uneasiness, the man forward let go the

anchor and the crew pretended to busy themselves about the deck

without regarding his presence. For a few moments he hung his ponderous

body from side to side and settled down to sleep again. He was not

disturbed for an hour or more and then Paul ordered his men to get

ready. Raising his carbine, he fired over the head of the lion. The

shot had the desired effect, for the brute sprang, to his flippers,

presenting his broad breast to the crew and at that moment the order was

given to fire. The beast staggered and attempted to reach the sea; but

fell over, while the smaller ones dropped off the rock in fright.

Convinced that the monster was dead, Boyton ordered the boat lowered;

but strange to say not one of the crew would get into it with him,

they were so terrified. Taking a knife, ax and revolver, he persuaded

one of the men to back him to the rock along which the sea surged

heavily and when near enough, made a spring for it. He managed to draw

himself upon the ledge where the monster laid, though the sea caught him

to the arm pits before he could do it, and found his prize to be fully

fourteen feet long from snout to flukes. He plunged the knife into its

throat to make sure of the work. Then he called to the crew to get

ashore as there was no danger; but the men were afraid to risk it, the

other sea lions being greatly excited, and Boyton began to remove the

skin as best he could without assistance. The only way to do it was to

run the knife along the stomach and cut away the blubber, rolling the

skin back as he did so. He took out the entrails and flesh, so that

instead of removing the skin, he really hewed the body out of it,

throwing the offal into the sea. While the cutting was going on all

appeared to go well with the other sea lions that were swarming about

in a great state of excitement; but when he chopped at the flippers or

any bony obstruction with the hatchet, they leaped on to the rock in

such numbers that he had to shoot into them to frighten them away. After

two hours or so of hard work lie had the body with the exception of

the head and flippers out of the skin. He ordered the crew to haul in

close and throw him a line which he made fast to the skin and it was

pulled aboard, while the small boat backed in and took the Captain off.

They sailed back to Chorrilos where some fishermen were engaged to

trim the pelt and spread it on a roof in the sun to cure. It was the

finest skin Paul had ever seen and he was very proud of it.

The next morning he was ordered to appear at the palace in Lima and was

detained there for three days on business connected with a new

submarine boat. When he returned to the sloop, he was surprised to see

great flocks of galanasas (a species of buzzard) and condors hovering

over the beach; but at the moment paid no attention to them any more

than to think some dead body had been washed ashore on which

the scavengers were feeding. Hastily ascertaining that everything was in

order on board the sloop, he went to the roof to see how the sea

lion's skin was curing. To his intense disgust, he found nothing left

but the polished skull of the monster. The birds had torn it to

fragments and eaten it. The artistic expression of his overpowered

feelings at the discovery, would have frightened every galanasa and

condor from the coast had they been familiar with the English, French

or Spanish languages.

Orders were received from Lima to sink torpedoes as far out in Chorrilos

Bay as they could reach without being shot by the Chileans. As there

was only a lot of old Russian torpedoes on hand and no dynamite to

spare, Paul decided to set dummies, knowing they would have the same

effect on the Chileans, who would watch the work through their powerful

glasses, from San Lorenzo. He procured a lot of empty kegs and had

them painted a bright red. With these aboard, he pushed out as far as

safety permitted, and in an ostentatious manner placed them across

the entrance to the bay, so they would float within three feet of the

surface and were plainly visible through the transparent water. The

approach of a steamer from the seaward when the work was about finished,

caused them to hoist sail and stand in. The steamer opened fire

on the retreating sloop, but the shots fell short and her guns were

answered by those on El Punte. A few days after, they had the

satisfaction of seeing two Chilean men-of-war expending thousands of

dollars worth of ammunition at one of the empty kegs that had loosened

from its anchorage and showed on the surface. From that time, the

little sloop was frequently made a target by the enemy's long range

guns. One day while Boyton was lying under the awning of the sloop, he

heard a whizzing cannon ball strike the rocks above where they were

anchored. He leaped to his feet and scanned the sea in every direction;

but as the atmosphere was a little hazy, he could discover no vessel

from which the missile could have been thrown. Thinking that it was

possibly a chance shot from the fort, he paid no more attention to it,

until he was aroused by another one shrieking overhead and striking

the cliffs a few hundred yards below. Then by closer observation, he

could see the dim outlines of a Chilean ship fully twelve miles away.

It proved to be the Huascar, that had received some new and powerful

guns, practicing. The sloop was anchored in a less exposed place in a

very few moments.

The next morning Boyton engaged in quite a lively adventure. He was

about to dive over from the side of the sloop into the cool water for

a bath, when he saw some dark object moving on the bottom and checked

himself. It was well that he did so for the object proved to be an

octopus, or devil fish, edging its way nearly under the sloop toward the

shore. Its great tentacles stretched out nine or ten feet from its round

body and a more repulsive or dangerous looking creature is hard to be

imagined. One of the crew, who was an experienced fisherman, told them

all to keep perfectly still as the fellow was going ashore among the

rocks, which those creatures sometimes do; but for what purpose is not

known.

The fisherman was correct, for in a few moments they saw one of the

powerful tentacles reach up and grasp a rock which was just bare at

low water. A party of fishermen near by, were called to assist in the

capture. They were armed with oars, spears, guns and boat hooks and

formed in a circle outside the dangerous brute, where they began yelling

and splashing the water with their weapons in order to prevent its

returning to the sea and to drive it upon the shore. It moved toward

the beach, only a few yards distant, and whenever it was submerged

discolored the water almost to inky blackness. At last, harrassed on all

sides, it put its slimy tentacles on the gravelly beach. Its round,

pudgy body was no sooner out of the water, than an expert, in the

person of a half naked fisherman, rushed in and struck it a blow on the

head with a heavy club dexterously leaping away in time to avoid the

waving tentacles. At every blow, all the colors of the rainbow could be

seen glowing through the body of the octopus. Once it lifted its

powerful tentacles, clinging to the suckers of which were stones and

gravel and either in pain or anger, hurled them in all directions.

Nearly every one in the party was hit. At last, after an exciting

battle, it was dispatched and cut up for division. According to the

unwritten laws among those fishermen, one half of it belonged to the

sloop, and Paul was just telling them he did not want it, when the

landlord of a little hotel in town, who happened to be on the beach,

made a proposition to give a supper that night if he was given

Boyton's share. The unexpected offer was quickly accepted and sure

enough, that night a magnificent spread was laid with the octopus

served as the principal dish. It was sometime before Paul could be

persuaded to taste it, and then he found it to be the most

delightful fish he had ever eaten--delicate of flavor and flesh of a

slightly viscous nature. The native fishermen look upon them as a

rare luxury and always have a feast when one is caught.

Notwithstanding the very poor appliances possessed by Peru, two Chilean

men-of-war were blown up during the struggle, by very clever tricks.

They were the Loa and the Covodonga. As has been previously stated, it

was the custom of the Chilean blockaders to pick up anchor and cruise

slowly up and down the coast during the night, to keep out of the way of

torpedoes. One foggy morning as the Loa was crawling back to her

moorings after her customary night's cruise, her lookout discovered a

small sloop containing a crew of four men, who appeared to be in a great

state of alarm. One was up on the mast endeavoring to repair the peak

halyards that were hanging down as though having been disabled. A gun

was immediately turned on the boat by the Chilean and a shot fired over

it. At that the sailor hastily descended from the mast and the four

men hurriedly jumped into a light gig and began pulling with powerful

strokes for the mainland. A boat was also lowered from the man-of-war

and chase given, while shot after shot was sent after the fugitives. The

man-of-war's boat had no chance of overhauling the quicker and

lighter Peruvian gig and when the Chileans reached the sloop, they

abandoned the chase. On discovering the prize they had taken, cheer

after cheer rang over the sea. The sloop was loaded down with baskets of

fruit, crates of chickens, vegetables, in fact the very things the

Chileans mostly needed. A line was quickly fastened to the prize and

she was towed alongside the Loa, and the entire crew joined the captors

in cheering when they saw the good things. All hands went to the side

of the vessel to look at the lucky find. It was short work to begin

sending the cargo up. Almost everything had been passed aboard when the

sailors took up what seemed to be a heavy crate of vegetables. The

moment it was lifted clear of the deck, there was a terrific explosion--

a mighty upheaval of the sea. A mountain of water shooting skyward,

mingled with fragments of the steamer and bodies of men. As the spars

and timbers dropped back into the sea, there floated on the surface but

splinters where a few seconds before the proud steamer had stood. The

Loa and her crew had been swept into eternity. It was then a cheer rang

out from the little gig far in under the shore. A bold, dangerous game

had been played and won.

The most emphatic orders were issued after the destruction of the Loa,

by the Chilean officers to their crews, to pick up nothing without the

utmost care and the most rigid examination. On an afternoon several days

after the above order had been issued, the Covodonga steamed slowly

along in bright, calm weather, on a cruise to the southward of Callao.

One of the crew sighted a pleasure row boat. The man reported it and the

Captain was about ordering the guns turned on it, when an officer

approached him and said:

"Let us examine it. We may learn something."

The Captain consented to the officer going off to the little boat; but

with repeated instructions to examine carefully before touching it. It

proved to be a beautifully built lady's pleasure boat that had broken

from its moorings and drifted seaward, a piece of frayed line still

hanging from her bow. She was painted white and gilded, elegantly

furnished with cushioned seats and handsomely ornamented. An open book

was found on one seat and a single oar rested on the bottom. The officer

carefully examined her, passed a boat hook underneath her and

concluded she was harmless. She was towed to the steamer and the Captain

assured that there was nothing suspicious about her.

"She will make a beautiful present for your wife," said the officer. The

Captain responded:

"If you are certain, send her aboard."

Lines were lowered and hooks fastened to the fairy craft. As they

tightened on the polished brass rings in her bow and stern, a deafening

roar told the fate of the Covodonga. She was cut completely in two and

only sixty of her crew were picked up and saved.

The little boat had been made with a thin false bottom in which was

placed a quantity of nitro-glycerine. The friction pins were connected

with the brass rings and the moment her weight was on them the pins were

pulled out and the explosive discharged.

It may be imagined that after such costly experiences, the Chileans

redoubled their watchfulness. They would not approach anything

seen floating on the water; but turned their guns on whatever they saw

at long range. They were known to fire at a seal that had wandered away

from its usual haunts. Paul and his crew were compelled to keep close

under cover. The Chileans were daily drawing their lines closer to the

doomed city of Lima. Boyton dispatched an officer to Don Nicholas with a

request to be sent with his torpedo crew down to Pisco where he expected

the Chileans would attempt to laud troops. The answer he received was

"Impatience is a bad counselor. Wait for orders."

If Paul had followed his own instincts, he could have knocked two or

three Chilean vessels out of the water, for they landed at Pisco a

few days later and no very sharp lookout being kept, he might have put

torpedoes under them at night.

As the enemy was gradually closing in by land and sea, Paul was ordered

to Callao to take charge of a submarine boat that had been built by a

Swiss engineer. The boat was to be run by compressed air under water and

by steam on the surface. It was a complicated affair and Boyton had

but little confidence in it and that confidence was considerably

lessened when the inventor himself refused to go down in her. However,

it was decided to try her. Having managed all the details of her

construction, Boyton ordered her swung under a big pair of shears and

from their support hung the boat on chains, so that in case she would

not run to the surface by her own power, she could be hoisted by the

machinery above. She was then lowered to the water. Paul and two of his

crew entered, but before descending to the bottom, gave orders to those

manning the shears, to hoist at the expiration of twenty minutes. After

fastening the man-hole, the valves were closed. There was an ominous

hissing of air that sounded peculiar; but when she got her weight of

water, she slowly settled on the mud bottom in twenty-three feet of

water.

"Now get at your compressed air and see how she will go on the bottom,"

said Paul to the engineer as soon as they felt they were down.

She wheezed and groaned and moved slightly on the mud; but she refused

to rise. Groping about with his lantern, the engineer found something

was the matter with the valves as lie could not get one of them to work

and he grew excited. He was advised to keep cool as there was no danger

but they would get out all right. For five or six minutes, which seemed

an hour to the men thus caught in a trap, they tried every possible way

to get the machinery to work; but it was useless. The boat refused to

rise. The oxygen became rapidly exhausted and the lights grew dim. Even

the valve supplying fresh air for the nostrils of the occupants of the

boat would not work and the situation grew more desperate with the

flight of every second. As the atmosphere became oppressively heavy,

Boyton wanted to knock the valve off with a hammer; but the engineer

showed him if that were done, they would be drowned.

It began to dawn on the minds of the three men that they were doomed.

They sat and looked into one another's pale faces. Paul consulted his

watch and estimated that twelve more minutes must elapse before those

above would haul up. He felt that it would be impossible for them to

last so long for already they were beginning to gasp for lack of air.

They became weak; but again tried the valves to no purpose. The least

exertion exhausted them. One of the lanterns flickered out and the other

was very dim.

At last Paul seized a hammer and going up the little iron ladder, struck

three or four blows on the cover of the man-hole, under the impression

that those above might hear. The effort was too much for him and he fell

to the floor where he laid in an almost unconscious condition. He

dimly remembered hearing the straining of chains, then the man-hole was

opened and a voice inquired: "How is it?"

There was no answer to the inquiry and the rescuers only found out how

it was when they entered the boat and dragged the three unconscious men

out to light and air where they quickly recovered. The inventor of the

boat made an examination of her machinery and found that the valves had

been tampered with and rendered useless. It was fortunate that Boyton

had taken the precaution of swinging the boat to chains, for otherwise

they would have died like rats in a trap and remained in their iron

coffin at the bottom of the bay.

The inventor went to Lima to report the occurrence and that night Boyton

received a message warning him to keep a sharp look out as there was a

Chilean spy among the crew and it was he who had tampered with the

valves. At midnight two officers arrived from the capitol and the crew

was summoned before them. They had an accurate description of the spy

and after close scrutiny, an officer placed his hand on the shoulder of

one of the crew, saying: "This is the man." Then followed one of the

quickest court martials on record. A small group of men walked a

short distance out on the dock in the darkness. There was a click of a

revolver and a dead Chilean.

The Peruvian troops were now marshaled at Chorrillos to repel the

further advance of the Chilean army that had landed at Pisco. The flower

of the Peruvian forces marched out of Lima in happy anticipation of

battle. The brilliant ranks were composed of young men in gorgeous

uniforms, who sang gaily as they marched on to Chorrillos. The native

troops were the Cholo Indians that who had been driven in from their

homes back of the Cordilleras and almost forced to fight. They marched

stolidly through the streets, turning their eyes neither to the right

nor to the left, though hundreds of them had never seen a town before.

They were followed by a wild though picturesque rabble of rabona women,

carrying great bundles tied on their heads or backs, shrieking and

chattering in their native tongue like gariho monkeys. These women

formed the commissary department of the native troops. Whenever there

was a halt, the rabonas would quickly unlimber their bundles and in an

incredibly short time be engaged in the preparation of some sort of soup

which they sold to the Indians for one cent per bowl.

The Chileans had advanced beyond Pisco and the first battle near Lima,

on the plains outside of Chorrillos, was imminent. Paul and his crew

with several torpedoes, went down the coast in a boat in the hope of

being able to get under a Chilean vessel; but those vessels fired on

the boat and sunk her, while the Captain and his men hastily gained the

shore and joined the army on the heights. On January fourteenth, 1881,

the Chileans began the attack on Chorrillos, the fashionable watering

place about three leagues from Lima. Colonel Yglesi with but a handful

of troops made a brave defense and had reinforcements been sent him from

Miraflores, where the main body of the Peruvian army was stationed, the

tide of battle would have been turned. As it was, he held out as long as

he could and then retreated to the main body, after killing three-

thousand of the enemy, just double the number of his original command.

On his retreat, the Chileans swarmed into Chorrillos, more intent on

plunder and wanton murder than honorable warfare, while the Chilean

fleet continued to pour a storm of shot and shell after the

retreating fragments of the little command. That night the Chileans

broke into the liquor store-houses and soon drunkenness increased their

natural blood thirstiness. Prisoners were murdered in cold blood and

women were wantonly shot down. They even fought among themselves, many

being killed in that way. Next morning the streets of Chorrillos

presented a sad and bloody spectacle. Dead and dying were everywhere.

Even the poor rabona women had not been spared. Their bodies could be

seen all over the place. Many dead were seen on the beach where they had

fallen when cruelly bayoneted off the cliffs.

While Boyton and a brave Peruvian officer, Colonel Timoteo Smith, were

hastily crossing a meadow, they saw a young Chilean officer fall from

his horse, wounded. They noticed that he wore the iron cross of Germany

on his breast and ran forward to save him. Before they could reach him,

a Peruvian Indian, knife in hand, bounded to the spot, cut the young

man's throat from ear to ear and tearing the decoration from his

breast, quickly disappeared. On examining the body it proved to be that

of a young captain or lieutenant. It was learned afterward that he

was the nephew of the celebrated General Von Moltke, the German soldier

and strategist. His death was outright murder.

After the retreat to Miraflores, a truce was declared and an effort made

to arrange terms of peace. The foreign diplomats, among whom was

United States Minister Christiancy, and high military officers were

holding a conference, while the two armies faced each other. During

the peace conference, a gun was fired. It was said at the time that a

Peruvian soldier fired at a cow. At any rate, the Chileans began the

attack at once. The crack of their guns along the line sounded like the

running of a finger over the key board of a piano. The bullets

began to shatter the house in which the diplomats were conferring. They

suddenly became aware of their danger and fled in all directions.

Minister Christiancy was seen in his shirt sleeves valiantly running

across the fields towards Lima along with many others. Not to speak

flippantly, it was a genuine go-as-you-please hurdle race, for they had

to jump the low, mud walls forming the fences. The Peruvians were

utterly routed. When Don Nicholas saw the battle going against him, he

gallantly mounted his charger and rode to the front; but it was too

late. He turned in despair and fled to the mountains followed by a

few of his immediate troops.

One of the leading causes of Peru's defeat, was the fact that her

soldiers were armed with two makes of rifles of different caliber.

The cartridges became mixed and hundreds of soldiers were seen to throw

down their guns and flee because their shells would not fit.

The ammunition, too, was strapped on mules that scampered away out of

reach after the first fire.

Paul with hundreds of others, fled to Lima. The city had been taken

possession of by a mob of drunken sailors and soldiers, who went about

in large bodies, robbing and killing indiscriminately. The streets were

strewn with the dead. Next day the foreign residents banded

themselves together to put down the mob. Boyton took command of a

company of Americans and went through the streets shooting down the

rioters wherever found. On a street at one side of the palace a row of

little houses was occupied by Jewish money changers. This was an

especial point of attack by the rioters on the first night. They were

under the impression that loads of money would be found there. Next

morning the narrow street was full of dead rioters, showing the

desperate and successful defense made by the Jews, who shot the robbers

through holes made in their doors and walls.

Hundreds of Chinamen were shot and their valuables taken. The foreign

patrols soon beat the mob into submission, and then collecting silks and

other goods that had been taken from the people, they placed them in a

general repository where they could be claimed by the owners, if alive.

While the rioting was going on in Lima, the Peruvians set fire to all

the shipping in the harbor at Callao, to keep it from falling into the

hands of the conquerors. The patrols were kept busy until the twentieth

of January, when the Chileans marched triumphantly into Lima. The city

presented a queer sight. From almost every house the flag of some

foreign nation was flying, to save it from pillage and destruction;

but scowling faces appeared at the windows. The first act of the Chilean

army was to break in and rob the custom house. An attempt was made

to restrain the men, but some awful scenes were enacted before it was

done.

During this time, Paul and some friends had a chance to visit the

battle-fields of Miraflores and Chorrillos. And the sights they

witnessed! The gallant, young soldiers who had left Lima in brilliant

uniforms, with high hopes of success, and gay songs on their lips, lay

a confused mass of bloated corpses. Four days of tropical sun had made

them burst, and the stench was horrible. Dreading contagion, for the

field of death lay near to Lima, the Chileans had forced the Chinamen of

that city to gather the dead, cover them with kerosene and fire.

After nightfall, the blue glow rising from these awful funeral pyres,

lit up the whole field. Bands of Chinamen leading mules who carried

panniers containing vessels of kerosene, passed around, and whenever

they saw a corpse not burning, they struck a hole in it with a

spade, poured in the oil and fired. At other points on the road, lay

heaps of mangled dead, while the earth around was torn up in most

unaccountable manner. This was caused by ground torpedoes placed in the

road by some fertile genius, who thought that he could thus destroy

the advancing Chileans.

After two or three of those hidden mines had exploded with dreadful

effect on the Chilean soldiers, they compelled the Peruvian prisoners

to march ahead, and when these were destroyed they set a drove or cattle

ahead in self-defense. Chorrilos, where Paul's headquarters had been so

long, lay a mass of ruins. Bodies in every fallen house gave forth the

awful stench of human decay.

Paul stood on the cliffs overlooking the pleasant bay, in whose waters

his little sloop had been anchored so many times, and beheld the result

of a charge of the Chilean army. Bodies of the dead soldiers lay thick

under the foot of the cliff, Chilean and Peruvian grasped in each

other's arms as they had been hurled in the fury of battle to death

below.

Along the beach from the cliffs to the ocean, lay numbers of the

soldiers who had been wounded, and while endeavoring to reach the

tempting waters and quench their thirst, had perished. Others, who in

their delirium had drank its brine, died in more agony, and lay in

strings along the side washed by the waves.

At the approach of a human being, flocks of hideous galanasas and great

droves of condors would rise lazily, too heavy from their ghastly

feast, to flap their monstrous wings.

It was a sight to sicken one forever of the vaunted glories of the

battlefield.

Soon after the occupation, General Backadana issued a proclamation

requiring all Peruvian officers to surrender. The Chileans knew that

Boyton was in the country, and for what purpose, but he surrendered

under his assumed name "Delaport," an engineer.

He was paroled, and went to Ancon, a village on the coast that had been

deserted, and no Chilean guards had been placed there.

Plans were laid for his escape; but he found it impossible to get off to

a steamer.

He procured a little boat and spent most of the time on the islands off

the coast and among the caves, his American friends in Lima sending him

provisions. For a companion he had a young Peruvian officer who also

thought it well to keep under cover. For three weeks they

amused themselves fishing, hunting, exploring, and several times they

rowed far out to sea, in the hope of being picked up by some passing

steamer and taken north, but the hope was not realized.

From almost any other country in the world escape would be easy. But

north and south of Peru lay thousands of miles of sun-parched pampa,

on the west lay the rolling Pacific patrolled by the enemy's ships,

eastward lay the Cordilleras soaring into the clouds--the only passage

through them held by Chilean soldiers.

One morning while they were cruising among the outer group of islands,

Paul noticed a cave opening into one of them, the entrance to which was

far above the water and so peculiar in its appearance that he determined

to explore it. Backing the boat in and taking a shot gun, he jumped

ashore, while his companion pulled quickly away to keep the boat from

being dashed against the island which was formed of an almost

perpendicular rock. Boyton climbed to the entrance of the cave and found

it ran like a slanting shaft through the island. Far below he could

see the green, surging water lashing the adamantine walls. Picking his

way down over the slippery rocks which almost choked up the passage, he

had proceeded about half way down the incline, when his attention was

attracted by a strange cry. Turning, he saw something that appeared to

be neither bird, animal nor fish; but partaking something of the

character of all three. He had often heard of the existence of such

creatures in the remote caverns, but had scarcely credited it.

Fishermen had spoken of them though few claimed to have ever seen one.

They are called ninas del maris-children of the sea. He had heard they

were gentle and affectionate in captivity but savage in their wild

state.

He raised his gun to shoot; but on second thought concluded to try and

capture it alive. He made his way down the incline as rapidly as

possible in order to cut the nina off from the water, knowing that it

would not make its exit from the cave by the upper opening. When he

reached the bottom, a wonderful scene unfolded. He could easily imagine

that he had unconsciously stumbled into the playhouse of Neptune's

rollicking subjects. The water formed a great pool surrounded by an

amphitheatre of towering crags of most fantastic shapes, which reached

far up toward the sky, there being no roof to its vast extent. The waves

beat in from the sea; but as no opening was visible, a

subterranean passage surely formed the entrance. Hundreds of grey ducks

were startled and circled around him or flew back and forth to their

nests as if fearful the intruder intended to do them damage. These

nests were built unlike those of any other duck he had ever seen, or in

fact, those of any aquatic fowl, being hung in the cracks and crevices

of the rocks precisely like the nests of the common barn swallow. The

sight was so strange and unexpected, that for a time he forgot all

about the nina; but recovering himself, he started back, watching

closely to prevent the queer creature from slipping past-him. With all

his care he could discover no trace of it and had made up his mind it

had escaped through some hidden passage, when he heard the cry again.

By close examination in the direction of the sound he found a little

pocket in the rocks and instead of one, two children of the sea were

hiding in it. He was so anxious to capture them, that without thinking

of the consequences, he ran his hand into the pocket and caught one by

the neck. After a struggle he got it out and threw his arms around it,

holding it to his breast. With one vicious kick of its claws and

flippers, it stripped his clothes off almost from chin to waist and

scratched his body considerably. He soon learned that though small, it

was very powerful. Having secured it, however, he left his gun and

carried it to the mouth of the cavern and called for the Peruvian to

throw him a line. With the line he tied the nina's mouth, lashed its

legs securely and as the boat was backed under, dropped it in the stern.

He returned for his gun and was surprised to see the other nina sitting

stupidly where he had left it, having made no attempt to escape. He

captured it easily, but took the precaution to put his soft felt hat

over his hand before seizing it. The second prize was landed safely

in the boat and the two explorers pulled back to Ancon. As there were

only two or three fishermen in the entire village beside

themselves, there were plenty of vacant houses in which to put the new

pets, but Paul put them into a room in which he had previously placed

a young condor. When the lashings where taken off the ninas, they

waddled to a corner and sat there.

The children of the sea are a species of penguin. Their bodies are

furnished with a downy covering which is neither hair nor feather.

They stand about two feet eight inches high and have very short, but

very strong legs terminating in web feet. They are of a grey color with

white breast. Their necks are short surmounted by a bird shaped head

with a powerful but stumpy bill, the lower part is V shaped into which

the upper snugly fits. They are also armed with a pair of minute

flippers much of the same conformation as those of a seal and their

eyes are large, round and soft, surrounded by a black circle. They

walk, or rather waddle much after the manner of an over fat man. When

resting, their bodies never touch the ground; but bend over to within

an inch of it, giving them the appearance of doing a very difficult

balancing act, though as a general thing they sit upright.

Paul's prizes were very sullen and refused to take the fish offered

them, so the door was shut and they were left alone with the condor.

That night the Captain and the Peruvian, who slept next door, were

awakened by an awful uproar in the room where the pets were confined.

"Ah," exclaimed Paul, "do you hear that? The condor is killing the

children of the sea."

They were too tired and sleepy to investigate, however, and in a little

while the noises ceased. At daybreak, after their usual plunge in the

surf, they went to ascertain the condition of their pets. To their

amazement they found the condor gasping its last breath, while the

ninas were comfortably pluming themselves in their corner. Two or three

days passed before the ninas could be induced to take food; but they

would snap viciously when approached. At last the male took a small fish

from Paul's hand, and then he knew they were conquered. Both began to

feed and in a few days became the most affectionate pets, following him

around like dogs. They would swim into the breakers with him without

showing the least inclination to escape to their former haunts.

Paul seeing no hope of escape from Ancon, returned to Lima to consult

with some American friends. These informed him that there was little

chance of escape from there.

Paul then formed a resolution to wait on General Patricio Lynch, who was

in charge of Callao, six miles away.

From his name, Boyton judged he was some good natured soldier of fortune

who would be only too happy to aid a brother in distress.

With this intention he called at the headquarters at Callao, and

informed the aid-de-camp that he desired an interview with the General.

That officer told him to wait a few hours, which he did. Waiting there,

Paul planned the interview to suit himself. He intended to say:

"General, my name is Boyton; down here just like yourself, from the

States, etc." He pictured to himself how cordially the General

would receive him, give him his passport, perhaps, invite him to dine.

Paul regretted that his clothes were dusty and torn.

Eventually the aid-de-camp approached and said: "You may now see the

General."

Paul was ushered into a large room and the officer retired. Paul looked

around, and saw no one but a white-haired, mahogany-faced old man who

sat writing at a table. Advancing, Paul stood silently waiting to be

noticed. At last a pair of cold steel gray eyes were turned up to

him which confused him so that he stammered in English:

"Is this General Lynch?"

"Si," was the sharp reply.

In English, Paul continued: "General, I am a patrolled prisoner who came

down to see if--"

At this moment he was shocked by a heavy hand crashing on the table and

a stentorian voice rang out in Spanish:

"Speak you Spanish, speak you Spanish. Muerte Dios, I understand not

much English."

Paul mumbled a request in Spanish to have his parole transferred to

Callao. "No, No, Anda!" pointing to the door, Paul retired and soon

after rejoined his companion at Ancon.

Three days after this he received a message from his friends at Lima

which caused him considerable alarm. It was to the effect that

the Chileans were making a diligent search for him and to be very

careful as there was yet no chance to get on a north bound

vessel, every passenger being closely scrutinized and it would be

impossible to cross the mountains.

Late one night, shortly after receiving the above message, he was

awakened by a hammering at the door, he leaped out of bed to find the

house surrounded by a squad of Chilean cavalry. The officer in command

told him he was wanted at Lima and to prepare to accompany the squad at

once. He was taken to the capitol and ushered into the presence of

General Backadona.

"What is your name?" thundered the General, striking the table with his

fist.

"I surrendered to you General," replied Boyton, "my name is Delaport."

"You were in the torpedo service?"

"Possibly; I held a commission from Don Nicholas de Pierola."

"But your name is Boyton and no one by that name held a commission."

Boyton neither affirmed or denied the charge, and the General ordered

him to be confined in the quartelle with the other prisoners, where he

was kept for some weeks while the victors were awaiting dispatches from

Chile that would decide his fate and he could readily surmise what that

would be.

Almost daily during his imprisonment he could hear the barbaric blare of

the Chilean bugles outside the quartelle, the gates swing open and a

party of Chilean soldiers enter. An officer would call the names of the

prisoners wanted and surrounded by a firing party, the unfortunate

wretches were marched out, followed by white robed priests who walked by

their side administering words of consolation. With gay music, the

prisoners were escorted to a convenient place for the execution, which

was usually the back of some store or the front of a public building.

The condemned were strapped on a plank, their feet resting on a step two

feet from the ground. This was placed against a wall. Then followed a

sharp order, a bright flash, the crack of rifles and the poor fellows

were sent to their long home. After the execution the planks with the

bodies on were placed on the death wagon to be unstrapped at the grave.

Paul expected every morning to hear his name called. Every time that

fatal gate opened he thought it meant his farewell to earth, but

strange to say, he became hardened and did not dread the summons. His

friends on the outside worked like beavers for his release or

escape. His belongings had been placed in the care of the railroad

company and were safe; even the "children of the sea" having been

brought up from Ancon.

For several days he noticed a Chilean who seemed to be some sort of an

official within the prison, watching him. One day this officer

carelessly passed near him and in a low voice asked if his name was

Delaport. Paul said "yes" and the official walked away.

Next day four officers who looked like the bearers of dispatches rode in

at the gate. The prisoners looked significantly at one another,

remarking:

"There's news from Chile."

"Yes," replied Boyton to one of them, "I guess my death warrant is

there."

The officers leaped from their horses, allowing them to stand unhitched

in the quartelle and entered the palace through a side door. As Paul

was patting and caressing one of the foam flecked steeds, the officer

who had before noticed him, touched him on the shoulder and whispered

the one word:

"Venga," --come.

Without hesitation, he followed the Chilean, who opened the same door

into which the dispatch bearers had disappeared. Once inside, his

conductor turned with a finger to his lip and silently passed on. They

descended several steps into what appeared to be a basement, where they

groped among pillars and underground apartments until they came to a

heavy door, through the chinks of which a little sunshine was

streaming. Boyton's conductor drew the bait and with a gentle push

shoved him out, whispering:

"Anda,"--go.

The Captain found himself in a street as the door softly closed, and at

that moment a party of Chilean soldiers rode by. He dropped his hat and

stooped to pick it up, keeping his face toward the ground until they had

passed. He then started in the direction of the railroad, in the

neighborhood of which he expected to find some friends. When he reached

a bridge over the track, he saw a train dispatcher of the road, whose

name was Campbell, of Alleghany City, Pennsylvania, standing below. He

made a sign to Paul, who quickly descended and entered an old warehouse.

He was followed by Campbell who handed him a paper, saying:

"Here is safe conduct through the lines. You are a submarine telegraph

man going down to the coast to repair the cable. Outside is a mule

equipped and ready for you. In one side of its saddle bags is one of

your rubber suits and a jointed paddle, covered with coils of wire. In

the other side are coils of wire, telegraph instruments and some

provisions. To all inquiries, you must answer: 'Comision especial

telegrafos del sue marina.' There's an English steamer going north to-

morrow, the Captain of which is fixed all right. Your baggage and all

your traps will be aboard of her. Go to Ancon and get to the furthest

island out and stand boldly off; the Captain of the steamer will pick

you up. Your greatest danger will be in leaving the city and passing

the lines. You must depend on your own resources to get through them."

Campbell then placed a purse of money in Boyton's hand bade him God

speed and disappeared. The Captain unhitched the mule, mounted, and

started across the Pizzaro bridge over the Rimac. At the other end of

the bridge, he noticed a Chilean soldier eyeing him intently. He

thought the fellow was one of the guard who might recognize him; but

knowing that any quick or startled movement would instantly excite

suspicion, he leisurely rode the mule up to a cigar stand, dismounted

and purchased some cigars. This move seemed to allay the suspicions of

the guard and he walked away. Lighting a cigar, Paul remounted and kept

on to the outskirts of the city. Night was falling when he reached the

first line of sentinels and he heard that sound which made his blood

surge:

"Halta, cavagna," shouted by the sentry.

"Comision especial telegrafos del sue marina," he answered, displaying

his forged pass. The officer scanned the paper and gave him permission

to pass on. At the second outpost, which was quite a distance from the

city, the same program was enacted; but at the third or outer line of

sentries, that occurred which caused cold beads of perspiration to start

on Boyton's forehead. A young officer was in command who posed as a

strict disciplinarian and acted up to his idea that there was very

little else in the world for him to learn. He critically examined the

paper and then looked into the saddle bags that were swung over the

mule's back. Then strutting haughtily about, said:

"The pass is not correct, you will have to go back to Lima."

It was a terrible blow to Paul's chances for escape and though his heart

was in his mouth, he kept as cool as possible and assumed a careless

air. He presented the officer with a cigar, talked about the weather and

other interesting subjects, while a guard was being formed to escort

him back to the city.

"I hope," said he, "that you will be pleased to command the guard that

escorts me back. I assure you that the society of the beautiful

senoritas at the capital is far preferable to me than to proceed with

the wet, cold work I have been sent to do."

The officer was polite enough to regret that he could not accompany the

guard.

"I would be sorry to see a brave officer like yourself get into any

trouble over this," continued Paul. "You know how anxious your

superiors are to have the wires repaired in order to re-establish

communication with Chile, though I am sure I do not fancy the work

and am well satisfied to have my journey interrupted."

The officer took the pass again and carefully ran his eyes over it, as

Boyton, apparently in the most happy humor, puffed away at his cigar.

"I think you are all right," said the officer at last, returning the

paper, "you can go on."

Paul's heart gave such a thump of joy that he was afraid the Chilean

would hear or see it; but the latter observed nothing. With

assumed reluctance, he bade the officer good night, mounted his mule and

rode slowly away. As soon as he was out of sight and hearing, he dug his

heels into the mule's sides and was galloping swiftly across the pampas

toward the coast. He could detect no signs of pursuit and in about an

hour he heard the sweetest music that had ever soothed his ears.

It was the booming of the breakers near Ancon.

Riding close to the edge of the cliff, he stripped everything off of the

mules and with a "good bye, old fellow, you have served me well," and a

gentle pat on the neck, he turned its head toward the pampas and it

scampered away. The next work was to fling all the wire and telegraph

instruments into the sea. He then donned the dress, and with his paddle

firmly jointed, began descending the cliff. Reaching the water in

safety, he plunged right into the breakers and paddled with all his

strength from the shore. Island after island was left behind and

at daybreak he was to the seaward of most of them. He selected the one

that stood furthest out and steered for it. It appeared like a huge

rock standing straight up out of the water; but he found a narrow strip

of sandy beach on which to land, being escorted by a whole troop of

seals which offered him no harm, however. Climbing to a high ledge, he

removed his suit and found that from his perch he commanded a good

view and could see the smoke of the steamer as soon as it left the

harbor of Callao.

The sun came up with a dull, red color promising a hot day. By nine

o'clock, the heat was so intense that he began to suffer from thirst

and then discovered that he had made one grievous mistake. He had

neglected to supply himself with fresh water. After partaking of a

little breakfast, he began a tour of exploration in the hope of finding

some cave in which he would be sheltered from the rays of the sun; but

none was to be found and he only kept cool by wading into the sea at

intervals, yet such immersions increased his thirst. All day long he

scanned the horizon in the direction of Callao, looking in vain for the

black smoke of the steamer; but hour after hour passed and there was no

sign of it.

During the afternoon he found a shelf of rock under which there was some

shelter from the heat. He sat under its shade suffering terribly from

the intensity of thirst. Then his mind was somewhat disturbed by seeing

a tremendous cloud of pelicans headed for the island. They circled

round arid round and lit in a confused mass on the narrow beach. There

were several thousand of them and he gazed at them with interest. They

went through a regular drill, in squads, which is the habit of those

queer but unclean birds. The smell from them was almost overpowering.

They would stand straight up in long rows, looking wise and solemn,

while two very dignified birds marched up and down in front of the lines

for all the world like military grandees reviewing a dress parade. Their

drill must have occupied at least two hours, then the ranks were broken

and they went into the sea in search of fish.

Paul's suffering from thirst became almost intolerable, his tongue was

swollen and his mind was being affected. At last he saw the smoke of the

steamer as the sun was going down. He was seized with an idea that she

would miss him in the darkness and he decided to return and give himself

up if she did, preferring to be shot rather than to die of thirst on

that desolate island. He put on his dress and paddled out until he

could see by the steamer's mast that she was head on, then he laid still

and awaited her coming. Close and closer she approached until he could

see the lookout. He waved his paddle vigorously and they saw him. To his

intense joy, she slowed down, a boat dropped from her side and he was

soon on board and hurried below much to the amazement of the passengers.

He was received kindly by the Captain and made comfortable. Everything

had been attended to by his friends, all his luggage, even to the pets

were aboard.

The steamer only touched at one more Peruvian port, Paita, and while

they stopped there, Paul went below and turned coal heaver; but on

account of the wires being destroyed no news of his escape had reached

that port and no search was made. Next morning they steamed up the

river to Guayquil and he felt himself free.

To Panama was but a short run and the twenty-five dollars in gold that

he had to pay for his trip across the isthmus from there to Aspinwall,

left him almost penniless. At Aspinwall he found the same steamer on

which he had sailed from New York, the Crescent City, and he put up

his baggage for a passage home on her. No trouble was experienced in

making such an arrangement for the trip north, for as soon as the

Captain learned who he was and the straits he was in, he was received

with open arms and every attention paid him.

Eight days after, Paul stood in Broadway, New York, without a cent in

his pocket, instead of the hundreds of thousands he had anticipated

earning when he cast his fortunes with Peru. But he felt rich in the joy

of his mother and family, who welcomed him as it were from the grave.

Kiefer, who had gone south with him, succeeded in making his escape for

the mountains where he remained several years, collecting antiquities

and shipping them north. He died of consumption soon after his return to

the United States in 1889.