CHAPTER IV
LOOKING DEATH IN THE FACE
We left Dan curled up in a bunk, wondering how long it would be beforethe schooner would go to the bottom.
"What's that?" exclaimed Dan, starting up from the narrow berth onwhich he was sitting.
He had heard a crash and felt a jar that was different from the shockshe had been experiencing for the last half hour.
Suddenly the Battleship Boy leaped from the berth, splashing into thewater knee deep, as another shock, more violent than the other, set thedoomed schooner trembling from stem to stern.
"Another mast has gone by the board," he groaned.
"Bang!"
The sound was accompanied by a ripping and rending of woodwork as ifthe vessel were being torn apart by some strange, wonderful power.
"I can't stand this any longer. I've got to go on deck and find outwhat is occurring, even if I am swept overboard. I'm not going to diedown in this hole anyway. It's no way for a jackie in Uncle Sam's Navyto end his life. Tommy, you'll have to get along the best way you can.Good-bye if I do not see you again."
There was a note of regret in the Battleship Boy's tone, as his glancelingered half regretfully on the ugly face of the parrot.
"Lubber!" retorted the indignant parrot.
"I guess I am all you accuse me of being," answered Dan with amirthless laugh.
Running up the companionway he crouched under the hatchway, listeningin order to determine whether a wave were washing over the ship or justleaving the stern. Having decided on this, the lad quickly threw openthe hatch and sprang out on deck.
A cold blast of salt spray smote him full in the face. Dan cleared hiseyes and glanced about him inquiringly. He was able to see but littleof deck or mast, but he felt quite sure that only one of the latter hadbeen left standing.
There was a sudden angry flash off to port.
"Lightning," muttered Dan. "We're going to have a thunderstorm to addto my other troubles."
No sooner were the words out of his mouth than the ship received ashock so sudden and violent as to throw the boy flat on his face on thedeck.
"That's the time we were struck," he cried, springing up.
Indeed the "Oriole" had been struck, but not in the way that Dan Davisthought. Instead of being struck by lightning another projectile fromthe seven-inch gun had torn its way through the stricken schooner.
Dan never had been under fire; in fact, he never had taken part intarget practice, so he knew little of what big-gun fire was like.
A beam from a searchlight smote his face.
"The 'Long Island'!" he fairly shouted. "They're coming back for me.Tom," he yelled, poking his head in through the hatchway, "they'recoming after us. We shall yet be saved."
"Get out!" answered the parrot in a shrill screaming voice.
Dan dropped the hatchway, straightened up and shading his eyes as hegazed off across the waste of waters. Just then he caught sight ofanother of those sharp flashes that he had taken for lightning. Thistime he saw that the flash had come directly from the battleshipitself. At the same instant he experienced another of those terrificshocks, this one sending him staggering to the rail.
The truth suddenly dawned upon him.
"They are shooting at me!" he gasped. "But why are they doing thatterrible thing?"
Dan pondered over this for a full moment.
"I know," he cried. "They are trying to sink the schooner, to get herout of the way, so that no other ship will run into her in thedarkness. Well, I certainly am in a fine fix. Not being able to drownmyself in a respectable way, the ship has come to my help by shootingat me. I wonder what gun they are doing it with? It must be thetwelve-inch, judging----"
"Bang! Crash!"
"There she goes again."
The schooner heeled until the lad was sure that she was going to turnturtle. The Battleship Boy felt a shiver running up and down his spine.
"If I had a light I might signal them and attract their attention. Idon't believe they are able to pick me up with the searchlight. Ifthey saw me they surely would not keep on shooting at me."
Dan hastened to the cabin below. There was not a lantern to be foundso he grabbed up the cuddy lamp and ran to the deck with it. Theinstant he reached the deck the wind blew the light out.
The boy put the lamp down on the deck and crept over to the port railwhich was the side nearest to the distant battleship.
Once more the seven-inch gun let go, the projectile going just a littlehigh and cutting a gash in the deck as it went screaming over, losingitself in the sea off to starboard somewhere.
"About six feet nearer, and my name would have been Dennis," mutteredthe lad.
He remembered, afterwards, that he had not experienced any feeling offear. The sensation of being under fire, and that with the knowledgethat a battleship was trying to sink the vessel under him, filled himwith awe and curiosity. Dan found himself wondering just how long itwould take for the guns of the warship to put the schooner under. Hadshe not been loaded with lumber the schooner no doubt would have gonedown under the first projectile that struck her.
"My, but those boys can shoot," he muttered with a feeling of pride."Ah, that one went too high. Lower, lower!" fairly screamed the boy.
"Crash!"
"That's the time you did it," he shouted exultantly, picking himself upfrom the deck, his clothing torn, his body scratched from the splintersthat the projectile had rained over him in a perfect shower. "A fewmore shots like that and you'll have her. But I'm glad there isn't anyflag flying here. I'd have to take it down. I couldn't stand it tosee them shooting at the Stars and Stripes."
The next shot tore away a large section of the rail on the port side,and seemed at the same time to have twisted the ship about.
But Dan was clinging to a stanchion, which fact saved him from beingagain thrown to the deck.
"I guess they must have decided to cease firing," he said. "I hopethey haven't given it up. I know I shall be disappointed. How I wishI were at that gun! Wouldn't it be fun! I believe I could shoot asstraight as they do. But----"
Dan did not finish the sentence. There came a report more terrificthan those that had preceded it. The stanchion to which the lad badbeen clinging suddenly doubled over, striking him on the head, fellinghim to the deck. The schooner lurched heavily, and, settling over onher starboard side, slipped slowly down a great sloping hill of waterinto a deep hollow of the sea. But Dan Davis lay still. The blow onhis head had been a cruel one, the iron stanchion having been struck bya projectile from one of the seven-inch guns and bent double.
The first gray streaks of the dawn were shooting up from the angry seawhen Dan opened his eyes again. His first sensation was that ofchoking. He was, indeed, choking, for the deck on which he lay was ariver of salt water. The lad, in falling, had become wedged betweenthe rails, this being the only thing that had kept him from beingwashed overboard.
The lad's first thought was that he was drowning. Soon, however, hemanaged to get his eyes open sufficiently to examine his surroundings.
There was gray, turbulent water wherever the eye roamed, a waste offoaming sea, here and there heaping itself into great dark piles thatseemed to tower higher than the masts of a ship.
"It's a wonder I'm alive," exclaimed the Battleship Boy, as he beganextricating himself from his uncomfortable position. "The sea is notnearly so high as it was last night, and this old craft is still on itslegs. That is the most surprising thing about the whole business."
Dan got to his feet, but he was very unsteady. His first business wasto look over the ship and make up his mind how badly she had been hurtby the fire of the battleship. Wreck and ruin greeted him on everyhand. The decks were a mass of tangled wreckage, broken masts, twistedstanchions and knotted ropes. In several places the decks were rippedwide open, the lumber beneath them split and torn into shreds.
Peering over the side, the lad discovered a jagged hole in
the hull,through which the water rushed with every roll of the ship.
The "Oriole" was lying well over on her side, threatening every instantto complete the job by turning over entirely. Dan surveyed the shipwith critical eyes.
"I see now what has saved me. It is the lumber. The schooner was sofar down in the sea, too, that the shots from the battleship could doher little serious damage. I wonder why they ceased firing. They musthave thought we were sinking. Well, anyway, I'm still afloat, I wish Icould see the sun so I could guess where I am."
Dan consulted the compass critically, learning that the battered hulkwas headed southeast. He tried the steering wheel, making thediscovery that the ship's rudder had not been torn off. He uttered anexclamation.
"I wonder if I could do it?" he muttered. "The land lies somewhere tothe southwest. I know we are not far from the coast, for we sighted alighthouse yesterday afternoon."
The stump of a mast was still standing, the stick having broken offabout thirty feet from the deck.
Dan, after a moment's reflection, ran below. Wading about in the cuddyand storeroom in water up to his armpits, he found that of which he wasin search. He staggered to the deck, dragging a jib sail after him.It was no slight effort to carry the heavy canvas, but the ladaccomplished it.
Now his purpose became evident. After great exertion he managed toclimb the slippery mast, carrying a block and tackle with him. Theroll of the ship made his task doubly difficult, but Dan pluckily heldon, weak and lame as he was. He knew no such word as "fail." When heset about a certain task he did so with perfect confidence in himself.He knew he should succeed.
"There. I'm not a half-bad sailor, after all," he cried, dropping tothe deck.
His next duty was to carry a rope from the sail that he had fastened tothe stump of the mast, back to the steering wheel, first having passedthe rope through tackle that he had made secure to a stanchion. Takingit all in all, he had accomplished something that would have been acredit to a much more experienced seaman.
But Dan had not quite finished with his preparations. He was eyeingthe heavy mast that lay lengthwise of the deck, amidst a tangled massof ropes and stays.
Procuring an axe from the deck house he cut the mast free; then,rigging some tackle, he worked with the stick until at last he haddumped it over the stern into the sea. Before doing so, however, hehad made fast a line to it, securing the line at the stern of theschooner before launching the spar. The "Oriole" steadied considerablyunder the influence of the dragging spar.
"Now, for the experiment!" cried Dan almost joyously. "I don't know,but perhaps the minute I get some wind in the sail the whole outfitwill turn turtle. At least, that will be better than waiting for theship to do so of her own accord."
He drew the sail taut, after a long, comprehensive glance over thedeck, at the same time crowding the wheel over to port. Then followeda minute of anxious suspense. The sail slowly filled, the shatteredbow gradually swung about. With a "splash, splash, splash!" thebattered hulk of the wrecked, shot-riddled "Oriole" began to move.
"Hip, hip, hurrah!" shouted Dan Davis. "Right side up with care! Now,if we don't get any worse weather, we'll land somewhere, even if it'son the rocks."
Dan decided upon the course that he would follow if he could, and,watching the compass, held the "Oriole" to that course as closely aspossible.
All during that day the sea continued gray and angry, the clouds hunglow and the sea gulls swept screaming by him, bound for still water.Dan remained steadfast to his vigil, watching sea and sky and sail withkeen, observant eyes. He could not tell how fast he was traveling, butso long as the schooner was under motion he did not care particularly.There was no sight of land, but still he might be within three or fourmiles of the coast and yet be unable to sight it, for the "Oriole" waslow in the water.
Now and then, as the schooner rose on a swell, he would catch sight ofa wisp of smoke on the far-off horizon, showing that steamers wereworking their way up or down the coast.
Dan began to feel faint and hungry. He decided to look for food.Lashing the wheel he went below and began his search in the dark,water-logged interior of the ship.
"Git out!" shrieked the parrot.
"I'm going to, just as soon as I find a cracker."
The parrot shrieked with rage, which caused the Battleship Boy to laughalmost happily.
After some searching about the lad came upon a tin case of hard tackthat had not been water-soaked. A piece of this he gave to the parrot,the rest being stuffed into his own pockets. Then Dan returned to hiswheel.
It was late that afternoon when the lad caught sight of something aheadin the distance that attracted his attention instantly. He sprang upto the broken rail, and, supporting himself by a twisted stanchion,peered into the midst of the spray.
"Land ho!" he shouted. "I think I see a light house."
Dan danced about the deck gleefully, for a moment, then grabbed thewheel.
"Gid-dap! You're a slow old poke," he jeered.
After a time he was able to make out the beacon more clearly.
"Somehow, that light house looks familiar to me," he muttered. "I knowI have seen it before. Why, of course; I know where I am now. Hurrah!We're headed for the Delaware Breakwater. If I keep on in this wayI'll be in Philadelphia--in the course of time," he added with a broadgrin.
As Dan Davis and his derelict craft drew nearer and nearer hediscovered something else that caused him to gaze fixedly. What he sawwas the towering cage masts of a battleship.
"Saved!" cried the Battleship Boy. "And it's the 'Long Island.' Iknow it is. Won't they be surprised to see me, though? They must havegone in there to get out of the gale."
The lad was swelling with pride. He had accomplished a great feat, andhe knew it.
By this time glasses from the warship were being leveled at the strangecraft that was to be seen floundering through the sea, headed for theharbor where the battleship was at anchor. The officer of the decksent word to the captain, who was below, and the captain, after onelook at the wreck approaching, sent for the executive officer.
"What do you make of her, Mr. Coates?" he questioned.
The executive officer took a long, searching look at the schooner, thenturned wonderingly toward his superior.
"It's our schooner 'Oriole,' unless I am greatly mistaken, sir."
"You don't mean it?"
"I may be mistaken, but it looks very much like her."
"But we smashed the hulk of the 'Oriole,' Mr. Coates. We saw her gounder."
"If we did she has pulled herself together and come back from DavyJones's Locker to a certainty. There's a man at the wheel, sir. Ibelieve that is Seaman Davis."
"Send a boat's crew out to meet her at once."
A cutter was quickly launched. By this time the rails of thebattleship were crowded with jackies. The word had been passed aroundthat the strange craft was none other than the schooner that officersand crew supposed they had broken to pieces in the gale the nightbefore.
Officers, through their glasses, saw the cutter run alongside theschooner. Then, with the lone mariner on board, they began the returntrip to the battleship. The cutter came alongside, a few minuteslater, and Seaman Daniel Davis ran up the sea ladder, leaped throughthe rope railing and came to attention before the commander of thebattleship.
The instant his salute was returned, Dan ran to the port side of theafter deck, where stood a child, clinging to its mother's hand.
"Young lady," he said, "I've brought your parrot to you. But I mustsay he has about the worst disposition of any parrot that I ever knew."
Dan handed the parrot over to the eager hands of the child.
"Lubber!" shrieked the parrot, making a vicious grab for the BattleshipBoy's hand.
The jackies of the "Long Island" set up a mighty cheer that was heardfar off on the mainland, wafted there by the quarter gale that wasstill blowing. At the same time one by one the officers strodefo
rward, grasping the hand of the plucky lad, showering him withcongratulations. Dan Davis had performed a feat that would be talkedof on shore as well as on the high seas for a long time to come.
"Ord'ly," called the captain sharply.
"Aye, aye, sir."
"Tell the master-at-arms to see to it that Seaman Davis gets a warmmeal, the best that the ship affords, and at once. Davis, you willdraw a suit of clothes from the canteen at my expense. Yours areruined. After that you will turn in and stay there till to-morrowmorning."
Dan saluted gravely.
As the hulk of the "Oriole" would be dangerous to navigation, she wastowed within the Delaware Breakwater and delivered to the properauthorities, and the passengers and crew of the ill-starred schoonerwent ashore.