“Lower the boats!” yelled Ensign Hallock.
The coolness, readiness and energy of this young man in any emergency
were an inspiration.
All of us flew to obey the command, our number dividing between the two
boats nearest the stern. The liner was sinking so fast that in a few
moments the boats would be afloat, anyway; nevertheless, we soon had our
craft in the water.
“Take that canvas covering!” bawled the ensign. “We may need it for a
sail!”
A sailor dragged the canvas into the boat, and we pushed off from the
vessel.
The other party had encountered trouble with the davit-blocks, which
occasioned a slight delay, and Hallock was just getting his boat into the
water when—
With a terrific crash, the _Nippon’s_ boilers burst!
The huge craft broke in two amidship, the central portion of her decks
leaping out of the water. The force of the explosion hurled Ensign
Hallock and his men—lifeboat and all—over the stern amid a hurricane of
débris, while our own craft was flung bottom-up with great violence,
scattering us all about in the water.
In an incredibly brief time the _Nippon_ slipped from view under the
waves, the swiftness of her sinking causing a violent suction that swept
us into a whirlpool filled with timbers, broken boats and wreckage of all
sorts.
Something heavy struck me on the head and knocked me almost senseless,
but I clutched a floating object and hung on in a daze. Presently I heard
voices calling not far away and, swimming toward them, I found a couple
of men clinging to the life-boat. Others quickly began to join us—among
them Dr. Gresham. Soon we had the boat righted and found it undamaged.
Someone picked up some oars.
Then we began rowing about the scene of the wreck, shouting and keeping a
lookout for other survivors. In this way we rescued seven more men—one of
the last of these being Ensign Hallock, who was dazed from a bad cut on
the head.
After a time, believing further search to be futile, we made our way to
the north bank of the fiord.
There now were only fifteen of us left—twelve men having perished in the
explosion. While we were roughly dressing the wounds of the injured,
we began to hear excited shouts in Chinese from the other side of the
water, but the width of the fiord here was such as to make the cries
indistinct. As the voices did not draw nearer, we began to believe that
the sorcerers possessed no small boats in which to cross to the scene of
the wreck. This gave us a greater feeling of safety, since the only way
the sorcerers could get at us for the present was by swimming; and not
enough of them were likely to try to constitute a serious menace.
In the distance the whistling and bell-ringing had now died out.
Hastily conferring upon what should be done, we decided to stick to the
lifeboat and drop down the channel, hoping to get out of the country of
the Seuen-H’sin before daylight. This course seemed feasible, since the
whole north bank of the fiord—the side opposite the village—was now in
shadow.
We started at once, rowing along silently, close to the shore.
Occasionally we heard voices on the south bank, but we made no closer
acquaintance with the Chinese.
As we drew near the _Albatross_, we muffled our oarlocks with bits of
cloth torn from our clothing, and took every precaution against making a
sound.
A few lights were burning upon the destroyer’s deck, but otherwise she
seemed deserted; possibly the Seuen-H’sin believed we had perished in the
blowing up of the _Nippon_, and that they had nothing more to fear from
intruders.
All at once, as we began to drop below the vessel, Ensign Hallock gave
an order to cease rowing. Drawing us close together so we could hear his
whispered words, he announced:
“Boys, let’s try to recapture the _Albatross_!”
Then, with repressed excitement, he unfolded a plan.
To our ears the ensign’s words sounded like a proposal of suicide; but
the situation was appallingly desperate, and the upshot of the matter
was that we decided to make the attempt.
“Who is to go with you?” I asked Hallock.
Several of the men promptly volunteered, and the ensign selected a
muscular seaman named Jim Burns.
Agreeing upon a signal that should inform us when to follow them, the
officer and his partner slipped off most of their clothing and, arming
themselves only with knives, swam away. In a few seconds they were lost
from sight.
From Hallock himself, afterward, I learned the story of their daring
undertaking—although I am certain he greatly minimized the dangers they
ran.
Reaching the deep shadows beside the destroyer, Hallock and Burns swam
forward to the anchor chain hanging from the bow. There they waited a
time, but, hearing not a sound from above, the officer climbed up the
chain and looked over the edge of the deck. No one was in sight.
He signaled Burns to come after him. Then, clinging to the edge of the
deck, with their bodies dangling down the side of the hull, out of sight
of anyone above, they worked their way, hand-over-hand, back to a point
opposite the after companionway. Still none of the Chinamen was in
evidence.
The deck was lighted at this point and the rays of other electric
lamps poured out of the open companionway; nevertheless, the men swung
themselves up, climbed the rail, and darted to the side of the deck
house. Leaving Burns here, Hallock crept alone around the corner to the
companionway.
Just as he reached the open door he almost collided with a Chinaman
coming up the stairs!
Both were taken completely by surprise, but the ensign recovered
quickest, and before there was time for an outcry he had the Mongolian by
the throat and was choking the life out of him.
Soon the fellow crumpled limply upon the deck. Hallock drew his knife to
finish the business—but at that instant there came the sound of voices
approaching along the deck.
Seizing the unconscious Chinaman by the arms, Hallock dragged him swiftly
around the corner of the deck house to where Burns was waiting.
Would the approaching men enter the companionway and go below, or come
on back to the stern? In the latter case they were bound to discover the
intruders.
With drawn knives, the two Americans stood ready; the success or failure
of their whole enterprise depended upon the next few seconds.
But the Chinamen turned down the steps, and their voices soon died out in
the interior of the vessel.
Thus assured of safety again for the moment, Ensign Hallock ended the
career of the Mongolian and dragged the body into the deeper shadows
in the stern. Then the two men advanced together to the companionway.
Everything appeared quiet below.
Down the stairs they noiselessly crept. At the bottom they could faintly
hear voices—seemingly many of them—somewhere forward, or else on the next
lower level. But they did not hesitate. The officer indicated the door of
a compartment only a dozen feet away. They reached it and got inside.
The room had been converted, during this voyage, into a storeroom.
Among its miscellaneous contents was a quantity of tear bombs—grenades
that discharge a gas which makes the victim’s eyes water until he is
temporarily blinded and helpless. To obtain all these missiles they could
carry was the work of but a few seconds, after which the Americans dashed
for the steps and started to the deck.
Just as they got halfway up, a couple of Chinamen appeared suddenly in
the passage below and caught sight of them. The Celestials uttered loud
warning cries and darted after the visitors.
Instantly Seaman Burns, who was behind, hurled one of the bombs to the
floor at the foot of the ladder—and then another and another.
The sorcerers halted a moment, surprised by the missiles—and before they
could resume their rush they were blinded by tears. Screaming in rage and
dismay, they retreated down the passage toward the other voices that were
beginning to respond to their cries.
With this, Burns ran on up to the deck.
“Stay here and hold this stairway!” ordered Hallock. “I’ll go forward to
the other ladder! Don’t let any of them reach the deck!”
And the officer ran off.
He reached the forward companionway just as half a dozen of the Chinamen
were crowding toward the foot of the stairs. A couple of the bombs hurled
among them drove them back. Two more missiles followed; then Hallock
slammed the door shut and fastened it.
Running to the rail, he signaled us to advance. In two or three minutes
our rowboat was alongside and we were scrambling up the anchor chain.
On the main deck, under the bridge, formerly had been stored a number of
rifles, and Hallock now ran to see if these were still there. Luckily
the Chinamen had not disturbed them, and the officer soon was back with a
loaded weapon for each man.
“The effect of the tear gas must be wearing off below,” he announced,
“so we can go down now and clean up those devils! But confine all your
shooting under decks, where it’s not so likely to be heard on shore!”
“And,” interposed Dr. Gresham, “don’t show a spark of mercy, or we will
be certain to pay dearly for it later!”
Leaving six men on deck to keep watch, the rest of us divided and went
down fore and aft. The gas still was strong, but no longer overpowering.
The Chinese, we found, had groped their way into the engine room. Here we
came upon them—forty-eight in all.
Upon the scene of slaughter that followed I will draw the veil. Thus the
Seuen-H’sin had slain our comrades—and we knew that, were our positions
now reversed, we would meet the same bloody end. Suffice it to say
that within fifteen minutes the last of the sorcerers’ bodies had been
disposed of overboard.
Once more we were masters of the _Albatross_!
Our first move, we decided, would be to steam down the channel a few
miles, where the Mongolians could not immediately get at us. Fortunately,
two of the apprentice engineers were among the survivors, and they
undertook to handle the machinery.
At the same time, Hallock and most of the crew went to work setting up
rapid fire guns in convenient places to repel invasion, and storing
ammunition and hand grenades on deck. A couple of the larger guns
likewise were unlimbered, ready for action.
By the time these tasks were completed, steam had been gotten up, and the
vessel began its retreat down the channel.
Meanwhile, Dr. Gresham and myself hastened to the radio room to summon
aid from the Mare Island navy yard at San Francisco.
But barely had the astronomer placed the receivers to his ears and
reached forward to adjust the apparatus, before a startling event
forestalled his call.
_CHAPTER XII_