CHAPTER VIII
THE RAIDER
TWO days later, in sight of Mariguana Island, they found the Chilian bark San Felipe, or what was left of her. She had a cargo of rough lumber aboard and although little remained above-deck the hulk was still afloat. Shell fire had carried away masts and deck houses and left gaping wounds in the hull. The Gyandotte sent an officer aboard and the latter speedily returned with the word that the attack, from the evidence found, had taken place not over twenty-four hours before. The ship was deserted and all valuables had been removed. That the deed had been done by the German raider previously reported was the belief of officers and men, and what had looked before like a wild-goose chase suddenly assumed importance. Spirits arose on the cruiser and for the rest of that day, while she ran southward, every man off duty elected himself lookout. But finding the raider, about whom little was known, was a difficult task. They passed a British gunboat just before evening and exchanged signals, with the result that the Gyandotte turned groaningly back and steamed northward again. Several times smoke was sighted, but each chase only raised a friendly ship. The next morning the Gyandotte was out of sight of anything that even suggested land and doing her best clip, which proved to be nineteen and a half knots. At noon that day the radio man picked up cheering news which was posted on the bulletin:
"United States torpedo boat Benton sighted a ship believed to be an enemy raider at five-thirty o'clock yesterday evening and fired eight shots but was unable to hit owing to extreme range. The enemy refused battle and made her escape at about eighteen knots."
"They might tell us where," grumbled a young gunner's mate of Nelson's watch. "For all that says it might have been up around Newfoundland!"
But there was a general feeling throughout the ship that the Benton's encounter with the raider had been rather nearer at hand than that and that somewhere this side of Bermuda, toward which the cruiser was scouting, there would be something doing. Foretop and maintop lookout kept a sharp watch that day, but night closed down over a tumbling sea without reward. In the wireless house the blue sparks sizzled and spat busily, and rumors flew about above deck and below incessantly. But Nelson, like many others, turned in that night a prey to disappointment.
It was shortly before six bells the next forenoon that the welcome, long-deferred and exciting news went the rounds that the foretop lookout had sighted smoke. All hands who might crowded forward, but from the deck nothing was as yet to be seen. It was well over an hour later when the quarry raised above the horizon sufficiently to be visible to the crew. Then began a long, hard chase. The Gyandotte's boilers roared as never before in that ship's sixteen years of existence and black smoke belched from her two high funnels and poured off to port. But after a short while it became evident that the enemy, if she was the enemy, which there was no reason to doubt, was making nearly if not quite as good speed. By the middle of the afternoon it was apparent that there was no hope of overtaking the raider before dark, if ever, for the Gyandotte's best effort had gained only a few miles in the six hours that had elapsed since sighting the quarry. There were grumbles and mutters uncomplimentary to the Gyandotte amongst the men, and it is not to be doubted that the officers, too, sighed for something speedier underfoot than the little cruiser. Night came down quickly, far too quickly to please those on the pursuer, and the distant shape of the raider faded from vision. That, since she was plainly refusing battle, she would seek to escape under cover of darkness by altering her course was a foregone conclusion, and it is fair to assume that there were many anxious discussions in the ward room that evening.
All night the Gyandotte plunged ahead at nearly twenty-one miles an hour. The noise of the engines and the plunging of the ship made sleep more than difficult for Nelson. Then, too, he was in a condition of excitement and suspense that sent his thoughts racing toward the morrow and kept his brain hard at work. And yet he did sleep, just as, if one was to judge from certain sounds that came from nearby hammocks, did others, and didn't awake until reveille sent him tumbling out to restore his canvas couch to its lashings and make his hasty toilet. He didn't have to ask any questions, for the news was hurrying from man to man that the German was still in sight and that the cruiser had cut down the lead considerably. If the Gyandotte had felt hurt the day before by the aspersions cast on her she must have been almost if not quite placated this morning, for they called her "some little hiker" and "a bulldog for grit" and approved her heartily.
It was ten when they got their first good look at the enemy. She was then some ten miles distant, presenting only a stern view, but with glasses it was possible to form some idea of her. She appeared slightly larger than the Gyandotte, with a good deal to be seen above-deck, the latter fact suggesting that she was a converted craft of some sort, possibly a small, fast merchantman. At two bells in the afternoon watch, just after mess, the shrill sound of the boatswain's pipe was heard commanding "Clear ship for action!" and all hands sprang to the work of stowing loose gear, connecting fire hose, rigging life lines and performing the almost numberless duties called for. Galley fires were hauled, lunch served out, ammunition supplied, dressing stations rigged, circuits tested and blast screens rigged. In a short time the cruiser was in fighting trim, the men had washed and shifted into clean underclothes and the battle ensigns were flying at the mastheads. The crew of Number Four gun hovered impatiently about the platform, one of them at least suffering inconvenience with his heart which showed an annoying disposition to travel back and forth between its usual location and his throat, or to seem to!
Shortly after two o'clock the enemy began the action at a hopeless range. The shell fell far short of its mark, although the direction was good. The challenge was answered on the Gyandotte by the bugle call of General Quarters and the men hurried to stations. A second shell from the German raider fell short and was followed quickly by a third which flung up the water close aboard. Not until then did the Gyandotte reply. Her bow guns spoke, but there were no hits. The enemy was evidently more desirous of running away than giving battle, for her firing was desultory and inaccurate for the succeeding quarter of an hour during which the pursuer fired seldom and with no effect. At about eight thousand yards the real music began. It was then about two-thirty-five and the cruiser was approximately one hundred and twenty miles southwest of Bermuda. To the enemy went first blood, for a shell burst on deck forward of the bridge, carrying away part of that structure and damaging the foremast range finder. But after that it was the Gyandotte's battle. The enemy's after deck was raked clean five minutes after the main action started and she was repeatedly hulled during the ensuing fifty minutes.
There was a crash as the shell sped from the gun.
Number Four gun played its part in the game, and Nelson, passing fifty-pound shells till the perspiration rolled from his face and trickled down his bare arms, experienced a savage exaltation as word came of hits. It was hard, fast work. There was a crash as the shell sped from the gun. Then the plugman opened the breech, wiped and inserted the primer. "Bore clear!" cried the first shellman, shoved a shell into the breech and shut off the air valve. A powderman inserted a charge in its silk bag and with it rammed home the shell. The plugman closed the breech and shouted "Ready!" Another roar burst forth. And so it went. There was no time to wonder or speculate on what was going on in other parts of the ship. One’s duty was before one and required every instant of time. Number Four barked with scarcely a let-up for most of the fifty-odd minutes that the engagement lasted and there were times toward the end of that period when Nelson found himself working without conscious effort, mechanically lifting and handing the heavy shells as though he were only a cog in a machine. His arms and back and legs ached, but he didn't know it then. His thoughts went back often to that midnight of the fourteenth of last October and when they did the lines of his face set more grimly.
The Gyandotte didn't escape unscathed, for the enemy scored seven hits during the battle. One of the cruiser's guns was early put out of action and a shell bored its way into a coal bunker and caused devastation below decks. That the Gyandotte presented only her bow to the enemy saved her from worse treatment. Less than an hour after the action had begun, the enemy ship signaled surrender. She was then in a sinking condition, with her starboard rail well under water. Firing ceased at three minutes past four and the Gyandotte, her men waving and cheering, steamed slowly toward the defeated enemy and began to lower her boats.