IN WHICH LARRY AND STRIKER ARE ADDED TO THE “OLYMPIA’S” MUSTER-ROLL
“Now tell me your tale, but you must be brief,” said the commodore,
after surveying the pair critically, to see if his order to fit them
out properly had been obeyed.
The cabin table before him was piled high with charts, over which he
and the other officers that had just left had been poring, and as Larry
and Striker told their story, Commodore Dewey continued to examine the
big sheets and make notes on a pad at hand. It was one of the Yankee
“knacks” of the commander to be able to do several things at the same
time. Larry was at first afraid that he was not listening, but he soon
found out his mistake, as the officer asked him several questions
bearing on points he had omitted or not made sufficiently plain.
“You have both had a hard time of it, no doubt,” said Commodore Dewey,
when the recital was brought to a close. “I should like to aid you in
getting back to your ship if she has managed to reach Hong Kong,
which seems doubtful, but I don’t see what I can do unless we speak
some vessel bound for that port. Do you know our mission in these
waters?”
“Yes, commodore, we jest larned it,” answered Striker, with a knowing
nod of his lean head. “And, commodore, it’s jest come into my mind to
ask ye a favor,” he went on, earnestly.
[Illustration: COMMODORE, IT’S JEST COME INTO MY MIND TO ASK YE A FAVOR]
“Well?”
“Ye know how I stood in the rank o’ gunners――leas’wise ye can soon find
out by the record. Let me stay aboard this ship with ye an’ help wipe
them Spanish garlic-eaters off the face of the earth! Maybe ye ain’t
got no opening aboard now, but I reckon there will be openings enough
after the fightin’ begins.”
At this earnest and original speech the commodore smiled. “You can stay
if you wish, Striker, and I was going to offer you the chance, seeing
that we are short a few men. I remember you were among the gunners,
and it is such a position you shall fill, if you can arrange it with
Captain Gridley. But what of you, my lad?” and the commander of the
squadron turned to Larry.
For the past half hour the boy’s thoughts had been similar to those of
his down-east friend. Everything about the warship pleased him, and to
behold the glorious stars and stripes floating over such a well-trained
body of American tars filled his heart with patriotism. Then, too,
he remembered what his brothers had written, that if war came, one
intended to enter the navy and the other the army. Here was his chance
to jump into active duty for his beloved country. Should he let such a
chance slip by?
“I, too, will remain on board, if you will have me,” he said, his clear
eyes gazing fully into those which were turned upon him as if to read
his very thoughts. “I have two brothers in the States who said they
would go into service if there was a call to arms. I have never been on
a man-o’-war before, but I am willing to learn my duty, and I’ll fight
for all I am worth, if I’m called on to do it.”
“Good! That’s the kind of talk I like to hear, Russell. The man who is
willing to do his whole duty――to do exactly as he is told to do――is the
man we are after. To be sure, you are rather young for regular service,
but, considering the manner in which you came on board, we’ll not
let that count against you. I suppose you would like to remain with
Striker.”
“Yes, sir――everybody else on board being a stranger.”
“We’ll try to fix it up. And that being settled, we’ll not be on the
lookout for any ship to take you to Hong Kong for the present.” The
commodore raised his voice and called the guard at the companionway.
“Ask Captain Gridley to step in,” he continued.
The word was passed, and soon the captain of the _Olympia_ appeared,
and the situation was explained to him. Being short of a few men, as
Commodore Dewey had said, he gladly accepted Larry and Striker, and
added their names to the muster-roll, to serve until discharged or
until the end of the trip. This finished, the pair were turned over to
the officer of the deck, who in his turn passed them to the chief of
the gunners.
“Well, you’re a full-fledged son o’ Uncle Sam now, Larry,” remarked
Striker, after the pair had been assigned to their positions at one
of the side guns, and been put through a strict drill lasting over an
hour. “How do you feel?”
“I feel a good deal like the cat that strayed in a strange garret,”
laughed the boy, just a bit nervously, for the sight of such big guns,
and so much powder and shell awed him. “Not much woodwork around here.”
“Woodwork wouldn’t do, if it came to a real battle,” answered the
Yankee, “for a good shot would fill every man around with splinters.
When we clear the ship for action, you’ll see ’most everything that’s
made of wood and movable heaved overboard. Even the men’s ditty boxes
will have to go, and then they’ll be no richer than we are,” he added;
the ditty boxes being, let me add, the chests in which the tars keep
their odds-and-ends of belongings.
Larry was tired, but scarcely hungry again when the call sounded for
supper. Yet he and Striker joined the gunners’ mess, to which they
received a warm welcome, for Uncle Sam’s Jack Tars are at all times a
“hail-and-well-met” sort of men.
Even “mess gear,” as it is termed, was a good deal of a revelation to
Larry, so different was it from the eating hour on a merchantman. He
learned that all the meals from that of the commodore down were cooked
in the one big galley, presided over by a dozen or more cooks, but that
separate messes were numerous, the commodore and the captain being
entitled by rule to dine alone, and the senior and junior officers
also dining separately, in the ward-room. Of the others on the warship,
the boatswain, gunners, carpenters, and sail-makers had an apartment to
themselves, and so had the marines and the firemen and engineers.
The queerest part of the proceedings, to the boy, was the fact that
the jackies furnished most of their own eatables and chose their own
cook, sometimes one of their own number. Uncle Sam allowed them the sum
of thirty cents per day for food, and this amount had been put to the
best possible use through money advanced before leaving port. In the
American navy even an admiral pays for his own meals, although, to be
sure, his salary is such that he can well afford to do so.
Larry found his mess-room on the _Olympia_ a long, narrow place,
ventilated as freely as the construction of the warship allowed. The
table had been swung to the ceiling, but was now let down, and a
“striker,” that is, a cook’s helper, attached the benches. The boy was
furnished with a porcelain plate and cup, and an iron fork, knife, and
spoon. For supper that evening the bill of fare was coffee, bread and
butter, stewed fruit, and a bit of fresh meat.
“It’s a mistake to think the jackies don’t live well,” observed
Striker, when they were finishing up and some of the men had already
drawn their pipes, for the hour after the last meal of the day was
“smoking lamp” time. “The lads know how to make their allowance go as
far as anybody, and they make the cooks do the best possible with all
victuals as comes aboard. To be sure, on a long trip we’ll git salt
hoss and pilot crackers putty often, but that can’t be helped on any
ship, as ye know.”
The “smoking lamp” just mentioned is a peculiarity of the navy. On
account of the explosives aboard it is strictly prohibited to carry
matches. So to light their pipes during the time they are allowed to
smoke the men have a covered lamp lit for them, the cover having a
small hole in it through which pipes can be lit.
Usually, the time after supper belongs to the men, to do with as they
please. Some read, if they are fortunate enough to have any literature
with them, others play banjos and accordions, some dance jigs, and
not a few gather in groups to talk and spin yarns. At half-past seven
“hammocks” is sounded, and then the men can retire if they desire. If
they wish to remain up, they can do so for two hours longer, when
“pipe down” echoes through the warship, all the lights excepting those
which must be kept lit are turned off, and the official day comes to an
end.
But this night was Thursday, and the _Olympia_ was the flagship of the
fleet, carrying the marine band of about twenty pieces. Thursday had
always been concert night, and now, to put his men in good spirits,
Commodore Dewey ordered the bandmaster to give them nothing but
patriotic airs, and this Bandmaster Valifuoco did, starting with those
songs which were particularly popular during the Civil War, and ending
up with Yankee Doodle and the Star-Spangled Banner. As the latter song
rolled out upon the balmy evening air, the men could not resist the
temptation to join in with their lusty and deep voices, and the sound
wafted across the sea to the other ships, until the sailors everywhere
were singing as never before.
“That’s the song of all songs,” cried Larry, when it was all over. “I
never heard anything so grand before. Why, that ought to make a brave
man of the worst coward on board! Hurrah for Old Glory!”
Utterly worn out with all that had occurred, Larry and Striker sought
the hammocks assigned to them immediately after the concert was over
and slept “like logs,” to use the lad’s way of expressing it. So tired
was the boy that he did not even dream, nor hear the many noises around
him, such as the pounding of the water against the warship’s prow as
she kept steadily on her course, or the rattle of the heavy chains as
the _Olympia_ rose and fell on the long swells.
On deck there was a busy time among the petty officers, for a
signal-light and a search-light drill were in progress. The great
search-light flashed hither and thither over the dark green waters and
over the other ships of the squadron. A sharp lookout was kept for the
possible appearance of the enemy, the men in the tops having their
night glasses continually in use. But the Spanish fleet did not show
itself, and for the time being all went well.