Read In the Track of the Troops Page 8


  CHAPTER EIGHT.

  TREATS OF TORPEDOES, TERRIBLE CATASTROPHE, UNEXPECTED MEETINGS, AND SUCHLIKE.

  To return to my personal experiences. It now became a matter of thedeepest importance that we should get out of the river before theRussian army reached its banks and stopped the navigation. The weather,however, was against us. It rained a great deal, and the nights werevery dark. The swollen current, it is true, was in our favour;nevertheless, as we had already spent several weeks in ascending theriver, it was clear that we should have to race against time inretracing our course.

  One dark night about the end of May, as we were approaching the LowerDanube, and speculating on the probability of our getting out in time, Igave orders to run into a creek and cast anchor, intending to land andprocure a supply of fresh meat, of which we had run short.

  "Better wait for daylight, sir," suggested my skipper. "It's notunlikely, in these days of torpedoes, that the entrance to places may beguarded by them."

  The skipper was so far right. The entrance to unimportant creeks,indeed, had not been guarded, but the Russians had already laid downmany torpedoes in the river to protect them from Turkish ironclads whileengaged in constructing their pontoon bridges. He had scarcely made theremark, when I was half stunned by a shock under my feet, which seemedto rend the yacht asunder. There followed a terrific report, and thedeck was instantly deluged with water. There could be no doubt what hadoccurred. We had touched a torpedo, and the yacht was already sinking.We rushed to our little boat in consternation, but before we could lowerit, our trim little vessel went down, stern foremost.

  For a few moments there was a horrible rushing sound in my ears, and Ifelt that I could hold my breath no longer when my head rose above thesurface. I struck out with a gasp of relief, which was, as it were,echoed close to me. I looked round, as well as darkness and water wouldallow, and observed an object floating near me. I pushed towards it,and just as I caught hold, I heard a panting voice exclaim--

  "'Eaven be praised!"

  "Amen," said I; "is that you, Lancey?"

  "It is, sir, an' I'm right glad to 'ear your voice. Cetch a tight 'old,sir; it's big enough for two."

  "What is it?" I asked.

  "One of the 'en-coops," said Lancey.

  "It's too small for two, I fear," said I, seizing hold of it.

  "Hall right, sir; it'll 'old us both. I can swim."

  Clinging to our frail support we were hurried by the rapid current weknew not whither, for, although the moon was in the sky, it was socovered with black clouds that we could not see whether we were beingswept towards the shore or into the middle of the stream. Besides this,the wind was driving the rain and dashing the water into our eyescontinuously.

  "Lancey," I gasped, "it is u-useless to let ourselves be--swe--sweptabout at the will of chance currents. The river is very wi-wide. Letus place ourselves side by side--and--strike--out--in--the--same--d'rection. Uniformity of action--necessary--in desp'r't situations!"

  Lancey at once acted on my suggestion, gasping that, "Haction of--of--hany kind would tend to--to--k-p limbs warm."

  We proceeded in silence for some minutes, when I observed the masts andrigging of several vessels drawn faintly against the dark sky. Theywere considerably to our right, and the current was evidently bearing usaway from them.

  "A strong effort now, Lancey," said I, "and we may reach them."

  I could feel, as well as see, that my faithful servant exerted himselfto the utmost.

  As we approached the vessels, their huge black hulls loomed up out ofthe dark surroundings, and were pictured against the sky, which, darkthough it was, had not the intense blackness of the vessels themselves.

  We passed the nearest one within twenty yards.

  "Let go, sir, and swim for it," cried Lancey.

  "No, no!" I cried earnestly, "never let go your--"

  I stopped, for Lancey had already let go, and made a dash for thenearest ship. I heard him hail, and saw the flashing of lights for amoment, then all was dark again and silent, as I was hurried onward.The feeling of certainty that he could not have been saved with so rapida current sweeping him past, filled my mind with intense anxiety. Justthen I felt a shock. The hen-coop had been driven against anothervessel, which I had not observed.

  I tried to grasp her, but failed. I uttered a loud cry, not with theexpectation that the crew of the vessel could save me,--that I knew tobe impossible,--but in the hope that they might be ready for Lanceyshould he be carried close to them.

  Then I was dragged onward by the powerful current, and tossed like acork on the river. I had observed in passing that the vessel was aTurkish ironclad, and came to the conclusion that I had passed theTurkish flotilla, which I knew was at that time lying near the fortressof Matchin.

  At the very time that I was being thus driven about by the wild waters,and praying to God for the deliverance of my comrades and myself--sometimes audibly, more frequently in spirit--another and a verydifferent scene was taking place, not far off, on the Roumanian shore.

  The wind had fallen; the clouds that covered the moon had just thinnedenough to render darkness visible, and nothing was to be heard save thecontinual croaking of the frogs, which are very large and numerous inthe marshes of the Danube, when four boats pushed off and proceededquickly, yet quietly, up the river.

  No men were visible in these boats, no sails, no oars. They were "steamlaunches," and were destined for a night attack on the flotilla which Ihad just passed. Their crews were covered nearly from stem to stern byiron bullet-proof awnings, which, as well as the boats, were paintedblack. The engines were so constructed as to make the least possibleamount of noise, and when speed was reduced no sound was heard save adull throbbing that was almost drowned by the croaking frogs.

  It was a little after midnight when these boats set out--two being meantto attack, and two to remain in support. They had seven miles of riverto traverse before reaching the enemy, and it was while they were in themidst of their voyage that I chanced to meet them, clinging to myhen-coop. They came so straight at me that I was on the point of beingrun down by the leading boat, when I gave a sharp "halloo!"

  It was replied to by one that indicated surprise, and was decidedlyEnglish in tone. Next moment the launch scraped violently against myraft, and I saw a hand extended. Grasping it, I was drawn quickly intothe boat. Another hand instantly covered my mouth, and I was thrustdown into the bottom of the boat with considerable violence. Beingallowed to raise myself a little, the chink of a dark lantern wasopened, and the light streamed full upon me. It at the same timelighted up several faces, the inquiring eyes of which gazed at meintently. A stern voice demanded who I was.

  Just then a gleam of light fell on a countenance which gazed at me withopen-mouthed and open-eyed amazement. It was that of NicholasNaranovitsch! I was just going to answer, when the sight of him struckme dumb.

  Nicholas touched the officer who had questioned me on the shoulder, andwhispered in his ear. He at once closed the lantern, leaving us all intotal darkness, while Nicholas caught me by the arm, and, making me sitdown on a box of some kind beside him, gave vent to his surprise inhurried, broken whispers.

  A short time sufficed to explain how it was that I came to be there.Then he began to tell me about his being sent on a secret expedition,and his having obtained leave to join in this midnight attack bytorpedo-boats, when a low stern order to be silent compelled him tostop.

  From that moment he and I remained perfectly quiet and observant.

  After an hour's steaming the Russian launches came to the immediateneighbourhood of the enemy's flotilla, and the engines were slowed.

  Each boat was armed with two torpedoes attached to the end of two longspars, which moved on pivots, and could also be dipped so that thetorpedoes should be sunk ten feet under water at any moment. Thesetorpedoes--each being about twenty inches long, by about fifteen indiameter--had a double action. They could be fired by "contact,
" or, inthe event of that failing, by electricity. The latter mode could beaccomplished by an electric battery in a little box in the stern of eachboat, with which a long cable, a quarter of an inch thick, of fine wirestwisted together, connected each torpedo.

  All this, of course, I learned afterwards. At the time, sitting inalmost total darkness, I knew nothing more than that we were bound on atorpedo expedition. I could scarcely persuade myself that it was not adream, but my numbed frame and drenched garments were too real to bedoubted, and then I fancied it must be a special judgment to punish mefor the part I had taken in the improvement of these terrible implementsof war.

  Despite the slowing of the engines, and the dead silence that prevailed,the boats were observed by the Turkish sentinels as we approached.

  "Who goes there?" was demanded in the Turkish language.

  The launch in which I sat was the first to approach, but the officer incommand took no notice and made no reply.

  Again the sentinel challenged--perhaps doubting whether in the darknesshis eyes had not deceived him as well as his ears. Still no answer wasgiven.

  The darkness was not now quite so intense, and it was evident thatlonger concealment was impossible; when, therefore, the challenge wasgiven a third time, our Russian commander replied, and I thought Iobserved a grim smile on his countenance as he said in Turkish,"Friends!"

  The sentinel, however, seeing that we continued to advance, expressedhis disbelief in our friendship by firing at us.

  Then there began an uproar the like of which I had never beforeconceived. Being very near the Turkish monitor at the time, wedistinctly heard the clattering of feet, the shout and rush of sailors,and the hurried commands to prepare for action. There was no lack ofpromptitude or energy on board the vessel. There was some lack of careor discipline, however, for I heard the order for the bow gun to befired given three times, and heard the click of the answering hammerthree times in little more than as many seconds, betokening a determinedmiss-fire. But if the bow gun _had_ gone off, and sent one of us to thebottom, there would still have been three boats left to seal thevessel's fate.

  At the fourth order a globe of flame leaped from the iron side of themonitor and a heavy shot went harmlessly over our heads. Shouts andlights in the other vessels showed that the entire flotilla was aroused.

  I observed that the launch next to ours drew off and we advanced alone,while the other two remained well behind, ready to support. A sharpfusillade had now been opened on us, and we heard the bullets patteringon our iron screen like unearthly hail, but in spite of this the launchdarted like a wasp under the monitor's bow. The torpedoes were arrangedso as to be detached from their spars at any moment and affixed by longlight chains to any part of an attacked ship. Round a rope hanging fromthe bow of the vessel one of these chains was flung, and the torpedo wasdropped from the end of the spar, while the launch shot away, paying outthe electric cable as she went. But this latter was not required. Thetorpedo swung round by the current and hit the ship with sufficientviolence. It exploded, and the column of water that instantly burstfrom under the monitor half filled and nearly swamped us as we spedaway. The noise was so great that it nearly drowned for an instant theshouts, cries, and firing of the Turks. The whole flotilla now began inalarm to fire at random on their unseen foes, and sometimes into eachother.

  Meanwhile the launches, like vicious mosquitoes, kept dodging about,struck often, though harmlessly, by small shot, but missed by the largeguns.

  Our commander now perceived that the monitor he had hit was sinking,though slowly, at the bows. He shouted, therefore, to the second launchto go at her. She did so at once; slipped in, under the fire and smokethat belched from her side, and fixed another torpedo to her stern inthe same manner as the former. The officer in charge perceived,however, that the current would not drive it against the ship. Hetherefore shot away for a hundred yards,--the extent of his electriccable,--and then fired the charge. A terrible explosion took place.Parts of the ship were blown into the air, and a huge plank came down onthe Russian launch, like an avenging thunderbolt, pierced the ironscreen, which had so effectually resisted the bullets, and passedbetween two sailors without injuring either. It did no further damage,however, and when the crew turned to look at their enemy, they saw thegreat ironclad in the act of sinking. In a few minutes nothing of herwas left above water except her masts. The crew were drowned, with theexception of a few who escaped by swimming.

  By this time it was daybreak, and our danger, within near range of theother monitors, of course became very great. Just then an incidentoccurred which might have proved fatal to us. Our screw fouled, and theboat became unmanageable. Observing this, a Turkish launch from one ofthe monitors bore down upon us. One of our sailors, who chanced to be agood diver, jumped over the side and cleared the screw. Meanwhile themen opened so heavy fire on the enemy's launch that she veered off, anda few minutes later we were steaming down the Danube towards the placefrom which the boats had set forth on their deadly mission.

  "That was gloriously done, wasn't it?" said Nicholas to me withenthusiasm, after the first blaze of excitement began to abate;--"one ofthe enemy's biggest ironclads sent to the bottom, with all her crew, atthe trifling expense of two or three hundred pounds' weight of powder,and not a man injured on our side!"

  I looked earnestly in my friend's handsome face for a few seconds.

  "Yes," said I, slowly; "many thousands of pounds' worth of humanproperty destroyed, months of human labour and ingenuity wasted, andhundreds of young lives sacrificed, to say nothing of relatives bereavedand souls sent into eternity before their time--truly, if _that_ isglory, it has been gloriously done!"

  "Bah! Jeff," returned Nicholas, with a smile; "you're not fit to livein this world, you should have had a special one created for yourself.But come, let me hear how you came to be voyaging _a la Boyton_ on theDanube."

  We at once began a rapid fire of question and reply. Among otherthings, Nicholas informed me that the two boats which had accomplishedthis daring feat were commanded by Lieutenants Dubasoff and Thestakoff,one with a crew of fourteen, the other of nine, men.

  "The world is changing, Nicholas," said I, as we landed. "That thewooden walls of Old England have passed away has long been acknowledgedby every one, but it seems to me now that her iron walls are doomed toextinction, and that ere long the world's war-navies will consist ofnothing but torpedo-boats, and her wars will become simply tournamentstherewith."

  "It may be so," said Nicholas gaily, as he led the way to his quarters."It may be that extremes shall meet at last, and we shall be reduced bysheer necessity to universal peace."

  "That would be glorious indeed," said I, "though it would have theuncomfortable effect of leaving you without employment."

  "Well, in the meantime," he rejoined, "as you are without employmentjust now, you must consider yourself my prisoner, for of course youcannot remain among us without passport, profession, purpose, orbusiness of any kind. To be shot for a spy is your legitimate due justnow. But we shall want surgeons soon, and newspaper correspondence isnot a bad business in these times; come, I'll see what can be done foryou."