WIPED OUT
ALMOST without further incident the _Olive Branch_ arrived off the
coast of Chili. Hostilities had broken out between that State and her
old rival, Peru, but beyond a few encounters between outposts on the
frontier, no serious fighting had yet taken place. Both republics
were unwilling to undertake the risk of sending an army into hostile
territory until the safety of their respective seaboards was assured,
and every day news of a decisive engagement between the rival fleets
was expected.
Directly the _Olive Branch_ was in touch with Captain Brookes's agent
at Antofagasta a wireless message was despatched in the form of an
ultimatum to the Presidents of Chili and Peru, stating that unless
the two fleets returned to their respective ports and peace were
declared within three days, the _Olive Branch_ would be compelled to
intervene.
The ultimatum was duly presented, and a copy appeared in the leading
newspapers of the two republics. People began to ask, "What is the
_Olive Branch_? And what is her nationality?" Then someone suggested
that the message was the work of either a practical joker or a
lunatic, and the heads of the two republics treated the message with
contempt. Not for one moment did anyone connect the _Olive Branch_
with the ex-Brazilian cruiser that had committed an outrage upon the
German flag off the port of Pernambuco. The very idea of a vessel
being able to travel from that port to Valparaiso--a distance of
4,600 miles--in less than four days never entered into anyone's head,
and when the journal _El Mundo_ broadly hinted that it was a ruse on
the part of the Peruvians to frighten the antagonists, the Chilian
fleet immediately put to sea.
This news was communicated to the _Olive Branch_ from Antofagasta,
followed by the information that the Peruvian fleet had steamed out
of Callao, bound south.
"Now we'll have them!" exclaimed Captain Brookes. "We'll get in touch
with the Chilian vessels first, then pass them hull down so as to get
between the two fleets. This done I hold them in the hollow of my
hand." Unfortunately for Captain Brookes his plans were doomed to
failure. The fleet of the Southern Republic was sighted and passed as
arranged, but in the interval the Peruvian squadron had altered its
course and was steaming for Iquique.
"There they are," announced Captain Brookes, late one afternoon,
pointing to a dense haze that obscured the otherwise clear horizon.
"Not much mistake about that, sir," assented Tregarthen. "If those
vessels are not burning Lota coal, I'm a Dutchman!"
"It's too late to do anything much to-day," added the captain. "I'll
give them a dose of Z-rays, and during the night we'll slow down and
hang on their flanks. To-morrow we'll press the business."
Throughout the night the Peruvian fleet, unable to use searchlights
and night-sights, pounded along, keeping an erratic compassless
course towards Iquique. Unable to explain the cause of the sudden
failure of their electrical gear, the officers and men were in a
state of nervous tension, expecting every moment to find the Chilian
fleet at their heels.
Just before daybreak the _Olive Branch_, to avoid being influenced by
the Z-rays that permeated the fleet, put her helm hard over in order
to allow the fugitives to gain a few miles.
As she did so a violent explosion shook the ship from stem to stern,
and a huge column of water sprang up from alongside her starboard
quarter.
"A mine, by Jove!" exclaimed Gerald.
He was right. The Peruvians had strewn the sea with mines as they
fled for shelter, and, on turning, the _Olive Branch's_ starboard
propellers had struck the dangerous weapon.
There was no panic. Every man was at his post, cool and alert. The
carpenter came on deck with the reassuring statement that the vessel
was not making water, but on the other hand the engineer reported
that the three starboard propellers were useless, and that the motors
actuating them had to be shut off. Thus with only the three port
propellers working, the speed of the _Olive Branch_ was reduced to a
bare fifteen knots.
"I'll make them pay for this!" exclaimed Captain Brookes, coolly.
"Keep her as she is, and at daybreak I'll show them what the _Olive
Branch_ is capable of doing."
The short twilight changed into day, and the rising sun revealed the
presence of the Peruvian fleet barely seven miles to the eastward.
There were four armoured cruisers--the _Santa Rosa_, _Lima_,
_Independencia_, and _Restauracion_, the first three built at
Elswick, and the last-named having been constructed at Stettin--and
three gunboats. The latter were the lame ducks of the fleet, and in
order to protect them the speed of the cruisers had to be reduced
from twenty-three to fourteen knots.
But to the surprise of everyone on board the _Olive Branch_ the
_Independencia_ turned and steamed straight for the solitary and
apparently foolhardy pursuer, the _Restauracion_ supporting her at
three cables' length on her port quarter. Throughout the night the
_Olive Branch_ had been cleared for action, and all that was
necessary now was for the men to go to their stations.
"She's too near to use the ZZ-rays," observed Captain Brookes to
Gerald, who, at the former's request, had accompanied him to the
conning-tower. "I've given orders for independent firing the moment
she shows her teeth."
On came the _Independencia_, the foam flying from her bows, her
funnels emitting dense clouds of smoke, while no less than five red
and white national ensigns flew from her mast-heads and signal
yard-arms.
Suddenly her forward 4.7in. Canet gun opened fire, and a huge
45-pounder came hurtling through the air. Fascinated, Gerald watched
its approach, unable to tear himself away from the slit in the steel
walls, though the projectile was apparently making straight for the
conning-tower. Often from behind a gun had he watched the flight of a
shell, but now the conditions were reversed.
The next thing he was aware of was a tremendous crash overhead,
followed by the fall of splintered steel and a dense suffocating
smoke.
"That's settled the charthouse and bridge," remarked Captain Brookes
as calmly as if discussing some triviality, then, pressing an
electric push, he gave orders for the forward turret to open fire.
The two 6in. weapons were discharged simultaneously, their
noiselessness contrasting vividly with the rapid detonation of the
Peruvian gun.
The doomed vessel was instantly swept out of existence. The massive,
yet graceful, outlines of the cruiser seemed to melt into a hundred
thousand fragments, then as the smoke slowly drifted, no trace of the
_Independencia_ was visible, only an ominous swirl in the agitated
waters as the disintegrated hull plunged to its ocean grave.
Appalled by the fate of her consort, the _Restauracion_ turned tail
and fled, being joined in her flight by the remaining cruisers, the
gunboats being left to their fate. But, satisfied by the moral effect
of his victory, Captain Brookes desisted from the pursuit.
"We're in a pretty pickle," said Gerald as he joined his friend
Stockton. "Partially crippled, and every port closed to us."
"Can't they make good the damage afloat?" asked Jack. "Divers could
go down, couldn't they?"
"If it were merely a matter of replacing the propellers they might,
but it's the damaged shafting that will cause all the trouble."
"Depend upon it, Captain Brookes will find a way out of the mess,"
replied Stockton, reassuringly. "The only thing that puzzles me is
what he will do should we be overhauled by a British cruiser. If he
keeps to his word he won't open fire on her, and if he attempts to
run away he'll be overhauled. That's a moral certainty."
[Illustration: The doomed vessel was instantly swept out of
existence. The massive outlines of the cruiser seemed to melt into a
hundred thousand fragments.]
"Well, let's hope we shan't be put to the test," said Tregarthen.
"But, by George, didn't the shell which hit us knock up a dust? It
simply swept the charthouse and bridge away like brown paper. That
means that all the steering will have to be done from the
conning-tower until we find time to make good the damage. But stand
by--here comes the captain."
Captain Brookes, however, passed them without apparently noticing
their presence. He seemed intent upon some great problem, and, lost
in thought, he descended the companion ladder and entered his cabin.
"What's the course, Mr. Slade?" asked Gerald of the navigating
lieutenant.
"We're going to fall in with the Chilian fleet next," was the reply.
"More pulverising?"
"I cannot say; captain's orders," replied Lieutenant Slade,
laconically.
At two bells in the first dog-watch the Chilian fleet was sighted,
but the victory was an easy, bloodless one. By means of the Z-rays
the fleet was demoralised, and thereupon a signal was sent to Admiral
Zaetos's flagship, informing him of the fate of the _Independencia_.
On learning that the _Olive Branch_ was no myth, the Chilian admiral
consented to return to Iquique to await further instructions from the
President, and an hour later the _Olive Branch_ was alone on the vast
Pacific.
"Now to get the damage made good," remarked Captain Brookes,
cheerfully. "Have you ever put into Talcahuano, Mr. Tregarthen?"
"No, sir."
"Neither have any of my officers; nevertheless I must do so, for
there is a government dry dock there, the only one on the west coast
of South America capable of taking the _Olive Branch_. Whether they
like it or not, I mean to have the ship repaired there."
Early on the following morning the cruiser came in sight of the port
of Talcahuano. Captain Brookes did not mince matters when dealing
with the Chilian town; he promptly isolated it by interrupting
telegraphic communication by means of the Z-rays, then falling in
with a small trading brig he expressed his intention of compelling
the master to pilot the _Olive Branch_ into harbour.
"Mercy on me, señor, I dare not!" expostulated the terrified man.
"The channel is mined; that is why my vessel was hove-to."
"Are you certain of this?" demanded the captain, sternly.
"Yes, señor."
"Well, gentlemen, you hear what the man says," continued Captain
Brookes, turning to his officers. "What do you say?"
"We are willing to leave the matter entirely in your hands, sir,"
replied Lieutenant Sinclair, confidently.
"That's what I expected," continued Captain Brookes. "And now,
señor, go forward and take the helm, for be there one or fifty
mines, I mean to enter dry dock before sunset. Mr. Palmer, clear away
the submarine."
[Illustration: chapter XII]