BLOCKADE OF CALLAO HARBOR.
Louis Dartmoor and Carl Saunders were early astir at the home of the
latter’s parents in La Punta the next morning. The Peruvian residence of
the American captain was a suite of rooms in a large, rambling hotel,
situated at the extreme tip of the narrow peninsula that juts into the
Pacific west of Callao, and forms, with San Lorenzo Island, three miles
distant, a shelter for the bay.
It was only a stone’s throw from the hotel to the beach, and as was
their frequent practice, the boys donned their bathing suits in the
bedrooms, and running down the rear stairs, took a dip in the ocean
before breakfast, diving through the inrushing breakers and swimming out
some distance from the shore. They were in the water about a half hour
and had returned to the rooms by half-past six. Faustina, Mrs.
Saunders’s cook,—the suite occupied by the Americans resembled in many
respects the apartment house of the United States, inasmuch as they had
their independent kitchen and dining room,—had just arrived from Callao,
and had put the water for the coffee over to boil. So the boys, having
plenty of time on their hands before breakfast could be ready, dressed
at their leisure, after a brisk rub-down with coarse towels, then went
out on the broad veranda, where Louis told Carl of some of his
experiences while on his one voyage as purser’s clerk; then they began
discussing the return of Harvey.
The veranda was unusually wide, even for a South American country, and
ran the entire length of the hotel. From the north end it commanded a
view of the bay and also of the entrance to the harbor, which was past
the north end of San Lorenzo. The channel between that island and La
Punta was so strewn with reefs as to be dangerous for any except very
light-draught vessels. When they had reached the end of the veranda, a
light mist had obscured most of the bay, and it was quite dense to
seaward; but while they were talking this mist gradually disappeared
under the influence of the sun’s rays, and a breeze had commenced
blowing from the south, so that within a quarter of an hour the waves
had turned from a dull gray to bright indigo, except close in shore,
where they broke in white foam before dashing on the stony beach.
Louis, happening to glance toward the end of San Lorenzo soon after this
transformation was wrought, seized Carl’s arm and gave a yell as he
pointed in the direction where ships round the headland to enter port.
“Look! Look!” he said.
Carl did so, then gasped, “The Chileans!”
“Yes, the Chileans! The blockading fleet! One, two, three, four, five
ships!”
“Oh, Louis!”
“Yes, Carl!”
“Isn’t that the _Huascar_?”
“Great Scott! I believe it is! Our little _Huascar_, with the lone star
flag at her gaff! Isn’t that terrible!”
“And there’s the _Pilcomayo_ too. Think of it. The gunboat that Captain
Matajente once commanded; and now he is perhaps asleep in our guest
room. We must tell him and also tell father.”
“Wait a minute, Carl. That’s one of the big ironclads, I guess; that one
to the right of the _Huascar_, Wonder whether it’s the _Blanco_ or the
_Cochrane_?”
“I don’t suppose anybody can tell at this distance. They are sister
ships, you know, and I heard father say they differed only in their
superstructure. Whichever she is, she is the flagship, for I can make
out the admiral’s pennant at the fore truck. And look, a steam launch is
putting off from her side and making for shore! Perhaps they are sending
notice of a bombardment!”
The boys then hurriedly left the end of the veranda and ran into the
little parlor, then into the first bedroom, where they found Captain
Saunders shaving. Both were too excited to say anything for a full
minute, and the American, somewhat vexed at the intrusion, exclaimed:—
“Carl, you should not bring your friend in here, for I am not yet
dressed.”
“But father—the Chileans—the Chileans—are—in the offing.”
“The Chileans! Who said so? It must be a bola!”[2]
Footnote 2:
Many false rumors and many grossly exaggerated reports were current up
and down the coast during the Chile-Peruvian war, and these were
designated by the term “bola.”
“But it’s not a bola, father. We have seen them ourselves. There are
five ships—one of the big ironclads, the _Huascar_, the _Pilcomayo_, and
two other vessels; all are steaming up and down.”
Captain Saunders placed the razor on the dresser, hurriedly washed his
face, and went with the boys to the point from where they had viewed the
fleet. They had no more than reached the end of the veranda than they
heard the pattering of bare feet on the wood floor, and turning, saw
General Matajente running toward them, exclaiming at the top of his
voice: “What’s that I heard? The Chileños? Did any one say the Chileños
were in sight?”
It was well for the boys that they had frequently been impressed with
the little general’s prowess, else they might not have restrained their
laughter at the sight which he had presented. Hearing their report of
the enemy, he had jumped from his bed and had run without stopping to
dress. The evening before, Captain Saunders had given him a pair of his
pyjamas, and these the little general had been compelled to turn up both
at the legs and arms, until the fold of the former reached to his knees
and of the latter to his elbows. He was evidently accustomed to wearing
a nightcap when at home, and such an article not being in the American’s
wardrobe, the Peruvian had tied his handkerchief over his head. Beneath
this band of white his long, black mustachios stood out straight and his
shaggy eyebrows protruded.
In his haste and excitement he pushed Carl and Louis one side, and to
see the better, when he reached the place that commanded a view of the
harbor entrance, he stood up on the foot-board of the rail. Then he
broke out into violent exclamations.
“C-a-r-a-m-ba!” he hissed, “the audacity of them! To bring the _Huascar_
here with their abominable flag flying! And my little _Pilcomayo_! My
pride! My treasure! With dirty Chileños on her decks! C-a-r-a-m-b-a! It
is too much! It is too much!”
Tears commenced to roll down his face, and he became almost hysterical.
The man who, during his lifetime, had faced death perhaps a hundred
times without flinching, the man who, in the streets of Lima, had led a
cavalry squadron right into the very centre of a battery, was sobbing
like a child. But they understood those tears and also the convulsive
chokings. They knew that not only sorrow, but anger, was struggling for
utterance, and in addition to all was humiliation.
“They are coming ashore, coming to give notice!” he explained, noticing
for the first time the little steam launch that was now some distance
from the largest ship. “I hope that notice will be of a bombardment;
that they will engage the forts like men, and not skulk in the offing
and destroy ships that cannot fight. O for one shot at them with the
castle guns!”
He darted away from the railing and started for the stairs that led from
the veranda to the main floor beneath.
“Where are you going, general?” asked Captain Saunders, catching the
little officer by the sleeve of his pyjamas.
“To the castles,” he replied.
“But you cannot go in this attire. Remember, you are not yet dressed.”
The Peruvian officer then realized for the first time that he had
appeared in his night clothes, and his one fault being his vanity, he
became as humble as a reprimanded child when he appreciated what a sorry
figure he had cut. To add to his confusion, Mrs. Saunders came from her
rooms at that moment, and before her husband could reach her side and
ask her to withdraw, she had taken a dozen steps in their direction. In
his anxiety not to be seen, the general had stepped behind Carl, and had
whispered to the boy: “Shield me! Shield me, I beg you!”
That was easy to do, for the youth was much taller than the officer, and
considerably broader, so that, standing still, he completely hid the
diminutive general, who remained quiet until Mrs. Saunders had left the
balcony. Then, darting from behind his human barrier, he made haste by a
side door to the room where he had passed the night.
A few minutes later Faustina announced that breakfast was on the table,
and Carl and Louis at once sat down with Captain and Mrs. Saunders.
Although the latter was much interested in the news of the advent of the
Chilean fleet, she asked if General Matajente had been awakened, and
suggested that they await his arrival. But Captain Saunders understood
the officer so well that he knew he would not wish to present himself
before the boys after his peculiar appearance, and he also realized that
the Peruvian wished to reach Callao with all haste; so he made excuses
for him, and with his own hands carried a tray laden with edibles to his
room.
“I shall go to Callao with our friend,” he said, on his return. “It is
necessary that I know at once what course the Chileans have decided to
take.”
“May we go with you?” Carl asked.
“Yes, if you hurry, for I shall not detain the general. The next dummy
leaves in ten minutes. If you can catch that, you may go. But not so
fast with your coffee, Carl. You will choke.”
“What do you think they will do?” asked Mrs. Saunders.
“I hardly think they will bombard,” he replied, “for they know the range
of the guns in Callao, and they could not approach near enough to do any
damage without exposing themselves to the Peruvians’ fire. So I expect
they will send notice of a blockade. However, it may be of a
bombardment, and in that event, Louise, we shall have to move to Lima
to-night. So immediately after breakfast, you had better call in
Faustina and pack the trunks; then we shall be ready for any emergency.”
“What if they declare a blockade?” his wife asked.
“Then our future actions will depend greatly upon its nature. If a close
blockade be declared, one that will prevent the entry of any vessels
until the war is ended, I believe it would be wise for you to leave at
once for the States with the children.”
“Oh, father, please don’t send me. Let me remain with you.”
“Would you not wish to go with your mother, Carl?”
“Yes, of course, but——”
“If I should have to go, let him stay with you,” Mrs. Saunders said. “I
can understand exactly how he feels about leaving now. He would be a
companion for you, dear; and besides, the experience would be valuable.”
“Well, well, we shall see about it later. Matters may not come to such a
pass that it will be necessary for anybody to go. Are you ready, boys?
Then join me at the dummy, and I will walk over with the general. Pardon
him, Louise, if he does not come in to say good-by; he is quite put out
by the course of events.”
A half hour later the four had reached Callao, and Captain Saunders,
with Carl and Louis, went direct to the editorial rooms of the _South
Pacific Times_, knowing that there they would hear the first reliable
news; and General Matajente went to the office of the captain of the
port. In Mr. Lawton’s apartments they found Mr. Dartmoor and Harvey, and
several other American and English residents of Callao, all assembled
for the same purpose. Harvey at once joined his brother and their chum.
“Where are Hope-Jones and Ferguson?” asked Louis.
“They left early this morning for Lima, by the first train, I believe;
before we knew the Chileans had been sighted. And I want to know, Louis,
why you didn’t tell me last night that the _Huascar_ and the _Pilcomayo_
had been captured while I was in the interior? It came as a great shock
this morning.”
“That’s so, Harvey. I confess I had completely forgotten that you were
not as well posted as we. But tell me, does father think that this will
make any difference with your mine?”
“Don’t call it _my_ mine, Louis. It belongs to us all; or rather, it is
father’s, and that is just the same thing.”
“Well, does he think the arrival will interfere much with your plans?”
“No. He is rather glad than otherwise that the fleet has come, for he
believes it will hasten the end. Of course, it will be impossible for us
to do anything until peace shall be declared, that is, to commence any
mining; so the sooner Peru yields the better.”
“In the meantime, what are you going to do?” asked Carl.
“Señor Cisneros will return to the interior this week with a surveyor
and a deputy from the mining bureau, so as to comply with the law and
perfect our claim, and some one will go to either New York or London and
interest capital, in order that we may have the ready money with which
to secure machinery and bring the ore to the coast. In the meantime, we
shall be able to borrow sufficient from one of the banks here to pay all
preliminary expenses.”
“Who will go to New York?”
“That I don’t know. We have arranged to hold another meeting to-night at
Chucuito and decide.”
Their attention was attracted by the entrance of an officer in the
service of the Pacific Steam Navigation Company, who had come from the
office of the captain of the port.
“Has the Chilean launch arrived at the mole?” asked Don Isaac, eagerly;
and the others pressed near.
“It has. And the admiral has served notice on all interests that he
intends maintaining a close blockade. Non-combatants will be allowed
forty-eight hours in which to leave; after that no vessel, sail or
steam, will be permitted to enter port or depart. So my ship, gentlemen,
will be the last to leave.”
Hearing this, Captain Saunders jumped to his feet, and beckoning Carl to
his side, bade him come, and the two hurriedly left the room.
“What’s the matter, father?” the boy asked, as they walked rapidly
across the plaza.
“Didn’t you hear Captain Brown say that his ship would be the last to
leave Callao?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then I have no time to lose in securing a passage for your mother,
Harold, and yourself. The boat will be crowded; hundreds will apply who
will not even be able to get berths. By going to the office at once, I
can perhaps reserve a stateroom.”
“Father, I wish you would let me remain with you.”
“Do you know what it means, Carl, to be in a blockaded city with all
supplies cut off?”
“I can imagine, father; but I should like very much to stay with you.
Besides, I am some little help in the office, am I not?”
“Yes. But with a blockade established, no ships will come in, and I
shall have nothing to do.”
“Then, isn’t that a reason for my remaining? You will be very lonely,
and should have one of your sons by your side.”
Captain Saunders smiled. “Very well put, Carl,” he said, “but I wonder
how much Louis and Harvey have to do with your anxiety to remain? But
you may do as you wish, and I shall reserve a stateroom for your mother
and Harold. Now that this is settled, I wish you to take the next dummy
back to La Punta, and tell your mother what has occurred; then help her
all you can with the packing. I shall be home early this afternoon,” and
he turned in the direction of the Pacific Steam Navigation Company’s
offices, while his son kept on to the railroad station.
As Captain Saunders was leaving, after having secured the quarters on
the Panama steamer, he met John Dartmoor and Señor Cisneros.
“Are you going to send Mrs. Dartmoor to the States?” he asked.
“No. I should like to, but she and Rosita would prefer to remain and
move to Lima in the event of open hostilities. The señor and I are about
to engage a berth for some one who must go to the States and arrange to
secure working capital for our mine. Saturday’s boat will be the last
out, you know.”
“Yes, so I heard Captain Brown say, and I came here at once to engage
passage for Mrs. Saunders.”
“I am very sorry to learn that she is going, but I think you are wise.
We may see some pretty tight times here.”
“There’s little doubt of it.”
“Are both boys going?”
“No, Carl remains with me.”
“That will delight Louis and Harvey. And by the way, Saunders, I am
going to move back to my old home in Chucuito this week. Suppose you and
Carl come and live with us after Mrs. Saunders and Harold leave; or at
least make us a visit.”
“I should be very pleased, Dartmoor; that is, to visit until I can find
suitable quarters.”
“Do so, then.”
That evening a meeting was held of those interested in the Bella
mine—for so Captain Cisneros had insisted upon naming the property after
he had learned the true story of the pincushion in Harvey’s pocket. It
was decided that both Hope-Jones and Ferguson should go to New York, for
the purpose of interesting capitalists; that Señor Cisneros should
return to the interior, and that Mr. Dartmoor should attend to the
company’s interests in Callao and Lima.
So it happened that when the last steamship sailed from Callao before
the blockade commenced, Harvey waved an adieu from a small boat to the
two young men with whom he had passed such adventurous times in the
interior; and from another boat Captain Saunders and Carl fluttered
handkerchiefs and were answered with love signals waved by Mrs. Saunders
and Harold.