DICK SCUPP'S ADVENTURE.
"_Osprey, ordered to Chemulpo._" Hallie Rexdale read the brief
announcement in the list of "navy orders, Asiatic fleet," and wondered
if her Dave were summoned to new dangers. While his ship was stationed
at Chefoo she felt comparatively easy about him; but Chemulpo, the port
of Seoul, Korea, was almost on the firing line. To be sure, the United
States was as yet in no way involved in the conflict, but suppose the
Vladivostock fleet should happen to descend upon Chemulpo? Shells would
fly, and the _Osprey_ could not. The obscure half-line in the newspaper
recording naval movements, and overlooked by all but one in a thousand
readers, carries joy or dismay to many a wife and sweetheart, for whom
the interest in the whole paper centres in that one announcement. Hallie
tore up the envelope she had already addressed, and added a few lines to
her letter, tearfully bidding--bless her heart!--her gallant commander
to "be careful."
The officers and crew of the gunboat were glad to receive the order,
when it reached them late in May. They were heartily tired of Chefoo,
and any change was hailed with delight. They foresaw, moreover, that
before long the _Osprey_ would be ordered to Cavite, there to dock for
repairs and the cleaning up her weedy hull needed.
From Chefoo to Chemulpo the distance is about four hundred miles.
Rexdale consulted his charts and reckoned that thirty-six hours would be
needed for the trip. Word was passed that all liberty on shore was at an
end, and every man was supposed to be on board before four bells that
same evening. "Supposed to be"--but the commander knew that his crew had
recently been diminished, and he felt sore on that particular subject.
Three men, during the preceding fortnight, had deserted, presumably to
join the Russian navy, which was offering generous inducements to new
recruits. It is reckoned, at the present day, that nearly ten per cent.
of men--not all "enlisted"--in the United States Navy sooner or later
desert.
At Morning Quarters, on the day when the _Osprey_ was to weigh anchor
and sail for Chemulpo, one more man was missing--no other than our old
friend Dick Scupp. He had been one of the shore party of the preceding
day, and in some way his absence from mess had been overlooked at night.
One of his mates remembered seeing him enter a saloon in Chefoo, kept
by a Chinaman of more than doubtful reputation; nothing further could be
ascertained concerning the seaman's movements. Dave knew that sailors
are loath to betray one of their number, and questioned them sharply, as
Dick was too valuable a man to lose without an effort for his recovery.
He even delayed sailing while "Jimmy Legs" spent a couple of hours
searching for the delinquent in the lower quarters of the town; but no
light was thrown on his disappearance. The Chinese saloon-keeper, Ah
Fong, declared that a sailor-man answering to Scupp's description had
become partly intoxicated on the premises and had been summarily
ejected. That was the last seen of him. Lieut.-Commander Rexdale could
wait no longer and put to sea, logging the incident as "Dick Scupp,
Ordinary Seaman, disappeared in Chefoo. Probably deserted."
At a little before noon the _Osprey_ was under way. There was no local
pilot on the bridge, for each of the officers was supposed to be
perfectly capable of taking the ship out and conning her across the gulf
to the port of destination. During the long stay at Chefoo Rexdale, in
particular, had improved the time by as careful a study of the currents,
channels, tides, and beacons on the Chinese coast as if he were to pass
an examination in seamanship at short notice.
The gunboat was about five miles out when the attention of Staples, the
executive, was called to a large junk crossing her bow about a mile
ahead.
"There's some sort of a row on board," said the lieutenant, as he eyed
the lumbering craft through his glasses. "It looks like a free fight
among the pigtails."
Rexdale and Liddon, the officer of the deck, joined him in scrutinising
the stranger, whose decks seemed to be crowded with men, among whom a
struggle was evidently taking place.
Suddenly the commander exclaimed: "There goes a man overboard, and the
scoundrels don't mean to stop for him!"
"He may be dead," suggested Staples coolly. "He seemed to be muffled in
black, which isn't the fashionable costume for a Chinese coolie."
"We must pick him up," said Dave with energy. "He's alive and
struggling. I can see his head now--I believe it's a negro. Port your
helm a little, Mr. Staples. Head for the man and get your lifeboat
ready!"
"Port, Quartermaster!" commanded the executive. Then, raising his
trumpet to his lips, he shouted, "Man the lifeboat!"
It should be understood that the _Osprey_, like most gunboats of her
class, carried two large "whaleboats." These were kept ready for
lowering quickly, when the ship was at sea. The one which happened to
be on the lee side at any given time was the "lifeboat." There is always
a "lifeboat's crew" on watch, while at sea, permanently detailed, all
fully drilled in their duties.
Staples's voice rang like a bugle-call throughout the ship and in an
instant every man in the lifeboat crew was on his feet and racing for
his station.
"Steady, Quartermaster," commanded Rexdale. "Keep her as she is. You're
heading straight for him."
"Aye, aye, sir! East-north-east, sir!" responded the quartermaster.
"I'll relieve you, Mr. Liddon," said Staples. "You go down and look out
for the boat!"
By this time the boat-crew were clambering into the lee whaleboat, led
by Midshipman Starr, who had cleared the wardroom ladder in a flying
leap at the first order from the bridge. Within sixty seconds from the
call "Man the lifeboat!" the boat was ready for lowering. In the
stern-sheets stood the coxswain, steering oar in hand, with every nerve
alert and tense; the bow oarsman had cast off the end of the "sea
painter," but kept a turn with it around the forward thwart. The other
men were seated on the thwarts, two of them with boat-hooks, with which
they were prepared to push the boat off from the ship's side while being
lowered, as the _Osprey_ was rolling a little in a cross swell. Bob
Starr was beside the coxswain, and awaited the command for lowering, as
he tried to catch a glimpse of the drowning man in the sea far ahead.
When the alarm was first given the _Osprey_ was making about ten knots
an hour, which would call for six minutes to cover the intervening mile.
Rexdale knew better than to slow up and lower his boat at once, thus
increasing this time and the risk of losing the man.
"Port a little more, Quartermaster!" ordered the captain. "Mr. Staples,"
he added, "whistle down to the engine-room and tell them to give us all
the speed they can."
After a brief colloquy through the tube the executive reported: "They
can do a little better, sir, but not much. They were just starting to
clean fires."
Liddon, on the quarter-deck, now called out, "All ready the lifeboat,
sir!"
"Very well, Mr. Liddon," returned Staples. "Hold on all till I give you
the order to lower."
Four minutes went by, with only an occasional growl from Dave: "Port a
little! steady, now! Starboard a little! Steer a steady course there at
the wheel--you're yawing all round the compass! There you are! See if
you can hold her steady at that!"
The man in the water was now about two hundred yards away.
"Stop both engines, Mr. Staples!"
The executive, who was already standing with his hand on the lever of
the port indicator, swung it sharply to "_Stop_," while the
quartermaster, at the starboard indicator, did the same.
"Half speed astern with both engines!" commanded the captain. "Stand by
to lower, Mr. Staples!"
Again the signal levers swung, and the executive called out, "Stand by
to lower, Mr. Liddon, as soon as we stop backing!"
The ship slowed down, trembling under the reversed strokes of the
powerful screw and rolling sheets of white foam from beneath each
quarter.
"Stop both engines!" ordered Dave.
"Stop, sir!"
"Lower away, Mr. Staples!"
"Lower away, sir!" and an instant later the boat sank to the water, was
detached, and was pulling rapidly toward the swimmer, who, when first
abandoned by the junk, had paddled about irresolutely, but was now
making his way steadily toward the boat.
"It's a negro, fast enough," observed Staples, gazing through his
binoculars. "He's as black as the ace of spades."
"Give her half-speed, Mr. Staples," directed Rexdale, whose whole mind
was now on the management of his ship, "and come round to pick them up!"
Again the signal jingled in the engine-room, and the ship, with helm
a-starboard, circled round the lifeboat.
"Up oars! Shove off!" commanded Starr in low tones, as soon as the boat
had detached itself from the patent hooks. "Let fall!"
The orders were repeated sharply by the coxswain, the oars dropped into
the rowlocks, and were brought level with the rail, with blades
horizontal.
"Give way together!" and away went the boat on its errand of mercy,
foaming over the choppy sea, toward the struggling swimmer.
"Way enough!" ordered the midshipman, as they approached the black,
woolly head bobbing about in the water.
Bob stood up in the stern-sheets, as the boat lost its headway. Suddenly
a look of wonder came into his face, succeeded by a suppressed chuckle,
to the amazement of the men, no one of whom, however, broke discipline
by turning his head.
"In bows!" called the coxswain, in response to Starr's order. "Stand by
there, to pull the man in! Hold water! Stern all!"
Again a ripple of amusement shot over the midshipman's jolly face,
which grew red in his attempts to suppress his emotions.
The next moment the bow oarsman reached down and with a great effort
pulled the dripping castaway in over the side.
A roar of laughter rang out from the boat's crew.
"A dog! A big Newfoundland!" exclaimed the coxswain, as the animal,
sinking down in the bottom of the boat with a low whine, gave himself a
shake that sent the water flying over the men. "Shall we throw him over
again, sir?"
"No, no," laughed Bob, resuming his seat. "He's too fine an animal to
drown. Get back to the ship. That's enough, men! Silence!"
Rexdale, Staples, and Liddon had already made out the character of the
supposed "man overboard," and were shaking with laughter when Bob
returned. The duty remained, however, of hoisting the boat and resuming
the course to Chemulpo.
"Lead along and man the lifeboat's falls!" shouted the executive.
The boat pulled up to the leeward side of the ship--the engines having
been stopped--and a line was thrown to her. This was deftly caught by
the bow oarsman and a turn taken around the forward thwart. The boat, by
means of this line and skilful management of the steering oar in the
hands of the coxswain, was sheered in under her falls, which had
already been overhauled down so that the lower blocks were within easy
reach of the men in the boat. The ship in the meantime was forging
slowly ahead. A line was thrown from her stern to a man in the stern of
the boat, who took a turn and held on, to keep the boat from swinging
violently forward when she should leave the water.
The falls were now hooked on, having been previously manned on deck by a
long row of men reaching half the length of the ship, ready to run the
boat up quickly, at the order.
"Haul taut!" commanded Liddon, who was standing on the ship's rail,
watching affairs. "Hoist away!"
Up came the boat, crew and all, to the davits. The men clambered out
and, with some difficulty, passed down the dog, who seemed disinclined
for further adventures.
"Full speed ahead!" jingled the engine-room bell, at Staples's command,
and the _Osprey_, brought to her old course, once more started for
Chemulpo.
The dog, a big, shaggy Newfoundland, soon regained his composure, and
wagged his way along the deck with the greatest good-humour.
"He's a fine fellow, anyway," said Dave, patting the broad head. "I'm
glad we hove to for him."
"What's this written on his collar," queried Liddon, taking the wet
leather band in his hands and turning it, so as to read some rude
characters apparently scratched with the point of a knife.
Dave glanced down carelessly, then sprang up the steps to the bridge.
"Starboard, Quartermaster," he ordered in sharp, quick tones. "Mr.
Staples, head her dead for that junk!"
Liddon was already by his side. After the first instant he did not
wonder at the commander's sudden change of course. He, too, had read the
two words, scrawled on the dripping leather collar.
"_Shanghaied--Scupp._"
Both officers understood in a moment the whole story of the seaman's
mysterious disappearance. They reasoned with the quickness of
sailors--and correctly, as it afterwards appeared--that Scupp had
yielded to his one unfortunate weakness, a fondness for liquor, during
his liberty on shore. Once inside the rum shop he had been plied with
spirits, probably drugged--for the Chinese are experts in the use of
opium--and while insensible carried on board the junk, to be shipped on
board a Russian man-of-war. So many men had deserted for that purpose
that there was little likelihood of the man's objecting when he found
himself actually pressed (or "shanghaied," to use an old sailor's term
for this sort of forcible enlistment), and offered wages double those he
had been earning. While the Russian navy would not instigate such a
daring breach of the law of nations it was highly improbable that they
would reject a good seaman, trained to his work by the United States.
In kidnapping Master Richard Scupp, however, the Chinese made a bad
mistake. Now that he was sober Dick had no idea of deserting his colours
or taking service under a foreign flag. He came to his senses just as
the junk cleared the chops of the harbour of Chefoo, and within five
minutes he had laid out three of his captors and was himself knocked
down. He found himself lying beside a big dog, who licked his face and
expressed his willingness to aid his new friend, so far as he was able,
to escape. Without definite purpose Dick scratched the two words on the
dog's collar with the point of his sheath knife. This act was detected
by the observant Chinese, but they could see no harm in his amusing
himself in that way and were rather glad for the dog to keep him out of
mischief.
About half an hour later there was a commotion and a jabbering of
tongues among the pig-tailed crew. Dick stood up and caught sight of the
_Osprey_ heading toward the junk at full speed. This drove him wild
again. Bowling over the nearest Chinaman he sprang for a spare spar,
intending to jump overboard and take his chances of being picked up. The
crew crowded him back, and the dog, putting his forepaws on the rail,
barked joyously at the gunboat which poor Dick vainly longed to reach.
A thought struck the kidnapped sailor as he watched the dog. Before any
one could stop him he leaped to the side of the junk and tossed the
animal overboard. He knew the Newfoundland could swim like a fish, and,
providing a shark did not drag him under, there was just a chance that
the officers of the _Osprey_ might see the dog and, picking him up, read
the message on his collar. The plan, as we have seen, succeeded
admirably.
Dick had the satisfaction of watching the gunboat as it slowed down and
sent a boat to his four-footed messenger struggling in the sea. The
Chinese, as he had expected, were angry at the loss of the dog, but did
not dare risking a visit from the United States war-ship by throwing
their boat up into the wind and rescuing the black swimmer.
"They'll know where I am, anyhow, if they only read that collar," said
poor Dick to himself, as the junk rapidly drew away.
He was now forced down on the deck behind the rail lest he should be
made out through the glasses of his officers, which the Chinese knew
must be scrutinising the craft which had left behind such a peculiar bit
of jetsam.
The _Osprey_ quivered from stem to stern, under the pressure upon her
engines. The firemen guessed that something unusual was in the wind,
and, stripped to the waist, kept the furnace doors clanging and the
fires roaring under her boilers.
"We're walking right up on her!" said Staples excitedly, as he and Dave
watched the chase. "Is it any use to signal to them to stop? Do they
understand the signals?"
"We'll signal in a way they _will_ understand," exclaimed Rexdale, "if
they don't obey the flags. Call the signal-men!"
In response to a shrill whistle two men came clambering up to the bridge
and stood ready to execute orders.
"Set 'Stop at once,'" commanded Dave, "General Merchant Code."
A string of gay little flags mounted to the signal yard. They produced
not the slightest effect on the flying junk, which was plunging its nose
into the waves and scurrying eastward before the wind at not less than
nine or ten knots an hour.
"Pass the word for the crew of the forward port three-pounder, Mr.
Staples! Stations! Cast loose and provide!"
The orders were repeated, and four gunners sprang to their places. In a
twinkling the captain of the crew had removed the gun-cover and tompion
and cast adrift the gun-lashings; Number Two had gone over all the
mechanism of the mount and provided revolvers and ammunition for all
four; Numbers Three and Four brought cartridges and swabs, and took
positions in rear of the breech of the gun.
"Load!"
The breech was opened, a cartridge inserted, and the block swung back
into place and clamped. The junk was now only about one thousand yards
distant. The _Osprey_, closing up from the south, held a course at an
acute angle with that of the fugitive, to head her off.
The best marksman of the gun-crew now stood at the breech, and, with his
shoulder against the padded crutch, slowly and carefully brought the
Chinaman within the sighting line.
"Drop a shot across her forefoot," ordered the commander.
"Commence firing!"
The gun roared, and a big splash just in front of the junk testified to
the correct aim of the pointer, and at the same time spoke in a language
that could not be misunderstood. The vessel veered round, spilling the
wind out of her great, oddly-shaped sail, which hung flapping from its
huge yard.
The _Osprey_ had now forged up within a few times her own length and
slowed down.
"Mr. Liddon," said Dave with energy, "you will take the starboard
quarter-boat and board that vessel. Arm your crew with cutlasses and
revolvers, and if her captain can understand English, tell him I'll blow
him out of the water if he doesn't hand over my man."
"Ay, ay, sir!" returned Liddon, delighted with his commission.
For the second time within an hour the boat glided down from the davits,
and went tossing over the waves, driven by eight pairs of brawny arms.
Before they could reach the side of the junk, a chorus of shouts came
from the gunboat they had just left.
"Man overboard! Man overboard! Stand by to pick him up!"
The fact was that when the Chinamen saw that the formidable war-ship was
really in earnest, a panic seized them. They all shrieked and jabbered
together, as their vessel hove to, and Dick Scupp plainly saw that more
trouble was coming for him. There seemed to be a dispute between two
factions on the junk, one of which screamed and pointed first to Dick
and then to the _Osprey_, and the other pointed as furiously to the hold
of the junk. Comprehending that they were discussing whether to restore
him to his own ship, or to hide him below decks--possibly with a knife
in his heart--and declare innocence, the sailor made ready for action.
The party demanding his concealment seemed to have carried their point,
for a number of them now made a rush for Dick, with fierce eyes and with
daggers drawn. The seaman sprang to his feet, catching one of his guards
with a blow under the ear and tripping the other to the deck. Before a
hand could be laid upon him he bounded over the rail into the sea, and
began to swim vigorously toward the approaching boat.
All efforts of the crew of the latter were now directed to saving the
life of their comrade. Liddon steered skilfully up to him and a moment
later he was dragged in over the gunwale, gasping and sputtering. The
junk, meanwhile, caught the wind over her bows and filled away again
toward the north-east. The _Osprey_ waited to pick up her boat, as the
Chinamen thought she would, and another chase was in prospect.
"Stave her to bits! It's an insult to the United States! We can catch up
with her in five minutes!" urged the junior officers of the gunboat,
gathering around their commander, forgetful of discipline.
Rexdale shook his head, though his teeth were set and his face red with
suppressed anger. "We can prove nothing," he said. "They'll swear he was
a deserter and concealed himself on board. Uncle Sam doesn't want to
take on China or anybody else in this scrappy country just now. We'd be
blamed and court-martialled if we should sink a junkful of Chinamen for
no better reason than the one we have."
He turned to the pilot. "Full speed ahead, on her course for Chemulpo."
Then, calling down to the gun-captain, "Unload and secure!"
Dick was duly disciplined for absenting himself beyond leave, but,
considering the hard experience he had undergone, his punishment was
made nominal, with a not very severe reprimand from the commander. The
dog was named "Junk" and became the rival of the black kitten--though
very friendly with her--as the mascot of the _Osprey_.