Two Boys of the Battleship: or, For the Honor of Uncle Sam

CHAPTER XVI – HEAVY SEAS

Such eager hope shone on the faces of Frank and Ned Arden on hearing the news that the battleship was ordered to South America, that the sailor who had given them the information remarked:

“Say, you fellows must be glad of it!”

“We are!” declared Frank. “Why, aren’t you?”

“I should say not!” was the emphatic reply.

“You don’t mind because we may be mixed up in some fighting, do you?” asked Ned, in some surprise.

“Of course not! It’s the climate I object to. It’ll be hot down there – as hot as blazes, and if we have to go into action, and use the big guns, why being inside of the turrets will be worse than being in a teakettle.”

“Oh, I guess we can stand it,” returned Frank.

“Huh! Wait until you try it once,” went on the blue-jacket. “I was down in the tropics once when we had some evolutions, and say! I haven’t got rid of all the blisters yet. That’s what makes me wonder when I see you fellows showing all sorts of signs of joy!“

“Well, some of our money is invested down in that little republic, and we want a chance to see what it looks like,” Frank explained.

“Come off! What sort of talk are you giving me?” demanded the sailor. “Money invested, and you working for Uncle Sam? Tell me something easier to believe,” and he laughed in a good-natured way.

Frank and Ned exchanged meaning looks, and tacitly agreed that perhaps it would be better not to go into any explanation of the matter. It would be hard to convince the ordinary blue-jacket that the two battleship boys once possessed a considerable fortune that was now tied up because of political troubles in Uridio. It sounded more like a tale from a book, than the real thing, as Frank admitted to his brother later.

“So we’d just better keep still about it, I think,” he said. “Of course if we get a chance to do a good turn for Uncle Phil, and, incidentally ourselves, we will. We can speak to the captain or some of the officers about it, and we have papers that prove what we say is true. Only there is no use in going into all this to any of the sailors.”

“I guess you’re right,” admitted Ned. The two lads did have certain documents that would establish the truth of what they had said, namely, that their fortune, as well as that of their uncle, was tied up in investments in the “banana republic,” as the small countries of Central and South America are often called.

Matters regarding Mr. Arden’s affairs had not changed of late, according to the last advices received by the boys. They had not, as they had hoped, been able to visit him at Atlanta.

Their life at the naval training station had been more fully occupied than they had expected, and there was no time to take the trip to Georgia. They had regretted the matter very much at the time, and Mr. Arden was greatly disappointed at not seeing his nephews. But he knew it could not be helped. Now, however, there might be a chance to do him a much greater service than would have resulted from a mere visit.

“Heat isn’t the only thing that’s disagreeable down in the tropics,” went on the sailor the next time he saw Frank and Ned.

“No?” asked Ned.

“I should say not! There’s no telling what sort of disease you may catch.”

“Well, I’m not going to try and catch any,” laughed Frank. “If some disease wants to catch me I’ll do my best to get away, too.”

“And there’s all sorts of bugs and crawling things,” continued the blue-jacket, making a wry face.

“Oh, don’t listen to him!” exclaimed Hank Dell, who, of late, had become quite chummy with Frank and Ned. “He’s a regular calamity-howler, he is!”

“Yes, and you’ll be a howler, too, when some of those South American chiggers get after you and burrow under your skin,” predicted the other as he went below.

The news that the Georgetown had been ordered to South American waters where there was a prospect of some real fighting, soon spread all over the ship. As boat after boat returned from the drill, and was hoisted to the davits, the sailors discussed the wireless message that had been received. Of course the enlisted men did not know any of the particulars, merely being told that the rather aimless cruising about, which had thus far marked the voyage, was at an end, and that orders had come to start South.

Now the Georgetown had a definite object in view, and it was rumored throughout the ship that hereafter drills would be stricter and that drills with the big guns would be more frequent.

“Of course we won’t stop for any target practice, though,” reasoned Ned.

“Hardly,” agreed Frank. “I guess, too, they won’t fire away many of the big, expensive projectiles. We may need them for Uridio.”

“Yes, we may have a run-in with their navy,” his brother said.

“Navy!” laughed Hank. “Say, I don’t believe they have any more navy than Switzerland has, and all that country can put out is a motor boat on Lake Constance.”

“Well, I guess there won’t be any waste of ammunition if there’s a prospect of some real work,” another sailor remarked.

As has been said, the word for the Georgetown to proceed to Uridio had come by wireless, and later it was learned that the battleship was to stop at Havana for sealed orders, and also to take on board certain stores – ammunition and supplies that would be waiting for her.

“It means business all right,” said Frank to Ned, as they were talking the matter over before turning into their hammocks for the night. “I wonder if we shall be able to go ashore and get any sort of a line on that business of Uncle Phil’s?”

“We’ll make a good try, anyhow,” declared Ned. “I guess the captain or some of the executive officers will give us help and advice if we ask them.”

“That’s a good idea,” Frank added.

As soon as all the boats had returned, the course of the battleship was changed, and now, with black smoke pouring from her funnels, she was rushing away through the night toward Cuba, there to stop, and as soon as possible afterward to take up her journey again toward South America.

A totally different spirit and feeling was on board now, at least among the younger enlisted men. It was the nearest any of them had yet come to conditions of actual warfare, though probably the matter of proceeding to regulate matters in a small republic, such as Uridio was, and looking after the interests of United States’ citizens there, was really a small affair in the minds of the higher officers, some of whom had been with Dewey at Manila when the Spanish fleet was defeated.

A change was made the next day in the nature and manner of holding the drills. For some time the lighter forms of evolutions had been the order of the day. But after the wireless orders were received there was more big gun drill and more, too, of infantry and light artillery tactics insisted on.

The United States blue-jackets often have to perform the services of a soldier in time of war, and that they may be familiar with those duties special drills are devised. Often, when a ship is in port, the men will be landed and go through these drills on shore. But now, in the case of the Georgetown, they took place on the big decks.

The manual of arms was gone through with again and again, and the light artillery was brought up and put into action against an imaginary enemy, blank charges being fired. Frank, Ned and their chums greatly enjoyed this drill.

“If you do as well when you’re ordered ashore to proceed against a howling mob, you’ll be all right,” remarked one of the officers at the conclusion of some snappy work one day.

“Oh, we’ll do it!” said Ned, to his brother.

While it was not for a moment thought that the Georgetown would be endangered from the shots of any hostile ship, or from the guns of a fort on shore, still drills were held that would enable the men to repair any possible damage in such a contingency.

These drills were collision, fire-quarters, general-quarters, and clearing ship for action.

The signal for collision drill was unexpectedly sounded one day when they were but a short distance from Havana. At once all the water-tight doors in the battleship were closed by machinery, and Frank, Ned and the others rushed to the various stations that had previously been assigned to them.

It was the work of the squad, or division, that included Frank and Ned to put over the side a thick, heavy collision mat, which was lowered to cover an imaginary hole, supposed to have been blown in the ship below the water-line or near it by a torpedo or projectile. The object of the collision mat is to stop the inrush of water until the water-tight doors can be made fast, or dropped into place.

In order to give as many as possible practice at this drill it was gone through with a number of times, several collision mats being used. It was hard work, for the mats were heavy, and Frank and Ned were not sorry when it was over.

Havana was reached in due season, and shore liberty was allowed to all in turn, for the ship was to remain there two days. Frank and Ned greatly enjoyed the novel sights ashore, and were rather sorry when they were under way again. But they were also eager for the work ahead of them, and anxious about the prospect of aiding their uncle, and saving, if possible, their own fortunes.

The night after leaving Havana Frank was awakened by a violent pitching and tossing. He heard Ned, next to him, moving about restlessly, and asked:

“What’s up?”

“I don’t know, unless it’s a storm,” was the reply.

“That’s it, we’ve run into some heavy weather,” said an older sailor.

Though there was a violent pitching and tossing, which motion was imparted to the Georgetown in spite of her great size, still our two heroes were not made greatly uncomfortable. The swaying hammocks did not take all the motions through which the vessel went, though the “beds” did sway more than usual. But the recruits had gotten their sea-legs some time before, and none was made seasick. This malady had not bothered Ned and Frank at all, for they had gone through their initiation in that regard years before, on Great South Bay and the adjacent ocean.

In the morning the Georgetown was plowing her way through a stormy sea, a heavy gale was blowing and sending the salt spray across her decks.

“It’s like the time we were out in our motor boat,” remarked Ned.

“Yes,” agreed Frank, and he thought regretfully of the Ellen. “And maybe we’ll have the same pleasure some time later, if we get back the money from the revolutionists,” he added.

“Why, are you going to quit the battleship?” asked Ned.

“Oh, no, I haven’t any idea of that sort, but if we get back our money we might apply for a leave of absence. Or after our four years are up, we can take a furlough.”

CHAPTER XVII – A CHASE

Just what the orders were that the commander of the Georgetown had received at Havana was known only to himself and to his immediate official family. They were not made public, but the fact that the ship kept on down the South American coast in the direction of Uridio, was sufficient evidence that the trouble in the small republic was not yet over.

“We’ll see some sort of action all right,” predicted Hank, in talking the matter over with Ned and Frank, as the battleship labored on through the storm.

“Action! Say, if there’s any more action than we’re getting right now, I’d like to see it – or, rather, I wouldn’t,” cried Sam Bowler, the sailor who had found so much fault about the prospective heat.

“There you go again, old calamity-howler!” laughed Tom Dawson, who, with Hank, had become quite chummy with Ned and Frank.

Certainly the Georgetown was being rather ill-used by the elements. The storm increased, rather than diminished, and soon had attained the proportions of a hurricane. There was rain, too, but so heavy was the salt spray, whipped from the crests of the foaming billows, that out on deck one could not tell the fresh water from the briney. It all came down together.

Of course, in the storm everything was lashed fast, life lines were stretched about the decks, and only the necessary routine work and duties were performed. The battleship proved herself most seaworthy, and though she did roll and pitch and toss, still she remained as tight as a drum, even under the terrific strain.

To while away the time, which was monotonous because of enforced idleness, only the necessary men being allowed on deck, some amusements were permitted. Boxing contests were arranged, though it was no easy matter to keep one’s footing, and in several of the bouts the less skillful men managed to “knock-out” efficient boxers. This was because an unexpected roll of the ship would send the good boxer off his balance when he least expected it, and the other would have a chance to “land” one on him. But it was all in fun, and taken in good part.

Frank and Ned were good banjo players, and could also perform on the guitar. And as they had each purchased an instrument just before being assigned to the Georgetown, and as several other recruits had also displayed musical talents, they were able to give an impromptu concert below decks during the storm.

The officers encourage the blue-jackets to do this, and instruction in music is provided to those who are fitted for it. Life on a battleship or in the navy is not so dull as some people would have prospective recruits understand.

Gradually the storm blew itself out, or else the battleship ran out of the storm region, and after two days of inclement weather the wind died down, the sun came out, and the men were able to move about freely on the upper decks and go about their usual duties.

Shortly after sick-call one morning there came the rapid ringing of the ship’s big bell, and in different parts of the craft bugles were sounded. Then came a certain number of taps on the big bell.

“Fire quarters!” cried Ned, as he caught the signal. He jumped away from the work he was doing, polishing some brass, and ran for his designated station.

“Is it drill or real, I wonder?” asked Frank, as he, too, hurried along with his brother. All over the ship were seen signs of activity.

“Fire-quarters! Fire-quarters!” was called.

Again the bugles blew, and by the manner of the call the location of the “fire” was indicated.

“After magazine!” shouted Ned, as he listened to the call.

No one knew whether it was a call to fight a real fire, or whether it was simply a drill. For just as the fire signal is given in the public schools, to get the children used to answering it unexpectedly and without undue alarm, so on board the battleships these emergency drills are held at unexpected times.

In a few minutes after fire-quarters had sounded on the Georgetown every man was at the station which had been assigned to him some time previous, in other like drills. Then long lines of hose were manned, all converging toward the after magazine, which was the position indicated by the signals. At once all water-tight doors and hatches were closed, so that in case there was a fire it would be prevented from spreading to other parts of the ship.

But fortunately this was not a real blaze on the battleship. The drill was simply for practice, and when the hose had been unreeled, and all was in readiness for flooding the magazine, had such a course been necessary, and when all the doors and hatches had been closed, word was given to the men to resume the work at which they had been when the call came.

“Whew! That was hot work!” exclaimed Ned, wiping the perspiration from his face.

“I should say yes,” agreed his brother.

The storm had passed away, but as they were now in the tropics and would shortly cross the equator, the air was hot and moist. Orders had been given for a change of clothes, and the men and officers now wore as cool garments as possible, presenting a fine appearance in their white uniforms.

Down past Venezuela and the three Guianas steamed the mighty Georgetown. Then, a little later, the ship was off the mouth of the great Amazon, and the “line,” as the equator is called, was crossed.

Of course there was the usual horse-play and high jinks permitted by the officers. Neptune, in the person of one of the sailors, came aboard, with his trident, his crown and his wealth of hair, made from strands of oakum; and before Neptune and his court were brought those who had never yet crossed the equator. They were to be initiated.

Various feats were assigned to the luckless ones, not all of them mild, either. But everyone went through the fun with good spirits, though Hank Dell protested when he was told to thrust his head into a bucket of soapy water. He hesitated, but his mates forced him to take the ducking.

“Wough!” he spluttered, as his eyes and mouth were filled with the soapy mixture. Then he was doused with a pail of clean water, and his novitiate over.

Frank and Ned, with the others, had to submit to their share of the hazing, but finally it came to an end amid gales of laughter.

“Well, we won’t have to go through with that again,” Frank remarked to his brother when they were changing into clean and fresh garments.

“No, and I’m glad of it. There was a little too much rough stuff in it to suit me.”

“Oh, it’ll do us good, I guess,” laughed Frank.

In the days that followed other drills were held aboard the battleship, though they were made as light as possible on account of the hot weather in the tropics.

When the general-quarters call was sounded, all took their stations at the guns for fighting the ship. This was what would be done on going into action, and that drill was usually preceded by the “clearing ship for action” order. In this the upper decks were cleared of all unnecessary rigging, not actually required for fighting. In this drill it is sometimes customary to lower the boats, but as the Georgetown was speeding to accomplish a certain mission she was not stopped to permit the lowering of the small boats.

“Abandon ship” was another drill that interested Ned and Frank. This drill often came after collision drill, and was supposed to indicate that the ship had been so badly damaged in action that she was likely to sink. When the “abandon” signal was given each man rushed to his particular station at the small boats.

Each man had also to get a certain amount of food or supplies which was always his portion, and stow this in the boat. So proficient did the blue-jackets become that in a few minutes after the signal had been given to abandon ship the whole crew, officers and all, would be ready to take to the boats and pull away. And in the boats would be enough food for several days, as well as other comforts and necessities. Everything possible is thought of in advance, and preparations made for all emergencies, from fire or explosion on board, to an attack by an enemy.

Down past the shoulder of Brazil slipped the Georgetown, and as she was now leaving the equator and going south, the heat of the weather moderated a little. Still it was warm enough.

“It won’t be long before we shall be there,” remarked Frank to Ned one day, as they stood on the forward deck, looking across the sea.

“Yes, we ought to be there soon. I hope we’re in time.”

“In time? What do you mean?”

“I mean I hope the revolution isn’t all over.”

“Oh, I see,” laughed Frank.

Suddenly the lookout cried:

“Steamer ho!”

“Where away?” came the demand.

“Almost dead ahead. Looks like some sort of cruiser.”

Ned, Frank and several others, including a number of officers looked in the direction indicated. There, speeding away ahead of the Georgetown, was a craft that did look like a small fighting craft.

“Can you make out her flag?” asked one officer to another.

“No, not yet,” was the reply, as the one addressed peered through his glasses.

“Yes, I can, too!” he cried a moment later. “If those rascals of revolutionists of Uridio haven’t got a navy! Well, who would have thought it!”

“Let me see,” demanded the other. “Yes,” he continued a moment later, “it is a small cruiser, and she flies the hostile flag. They must have bought some old fighting craft that some nation considered out of date. The captain must be informed.”

A little later there sounded down in the engine room of the Georgetown the signal from the bridge of, “full speed ahead!”

“Are we going to chase her?” asked Ned.

“It looks that way,” said his brother.

From the funnels of the battleship belched clouds of black smoke.