CHAPTER X.
It was nearly four years since our landing at Honolulu, or Jefferson as we more usually called it, thus lovingly preserving the memory of our former home. During this period our little world had prospered, some of our number had died, more had come to fill their places, boys had grown to young men, little maids to handsome young women, and our life in the old continent of the West seemed to have receded so far into the past as to be like one of those strange dreams wherein we seemed to be carried back to a previous yet recognisable state of existence. Of the more prominent members of our community Gell, though still under thirty, wore the grave aspect of a man of middle age. His strong faithful character had been deepened and softened by his sorrow, and his life was devoted to the service of his fellow creatures. To his proper function of teaching the young and of ministering to the religious needs of the community he added the self-imposed task of tending the sick, comforting the afflicted, helping the poor and feeble with his own hands, and all with a perfect simplicity and absence of self-seeking that endeared him to all. To him I looked, and looked with confidence, as my successor in the duties of Chief Magistrate, whenever age or death should remove me from that post.
Dana had grown into a splendid fellow, the admiration of all the girls of the state, and the hero of all the lads. He carried on the medical studies into which I had initiated him with perseverance if without enthusiasm, but in fact he was a born seaman, if ever there was such a being; never so happy as on board his beloved ships, which he kept in scrupulous order, unless it might be when I allowed him to take one or other of them on a cruise among the neighbouring islands. Our friend the boatswain who administered such a drubbing to the President was his right hand man, and as keen a sailor as Dana himself; while the President still strutted and crowed for the amusement of the community, or for their more amusement cringed and quailed when any one thought it worth while to take him down a peg. For myself, the lines of my face were grown a trifle deeper and my hair a thought greyer than at the time of our landing, but otherwise I still enjoyed all the vigour and freshness of healthy manhood.
And in this uneventful but not unhappy existence, unbroken by the scramble of the market or fever of money-getting, in all the quiet and more than the quiet of some remote parish in old England before the age of steam, it seemed likely that we should pass the remainder of our lives.
What was it that whispered to me, contrary to all reasonable probabilities, that we were not yet at the end of our period of Sturm und Drang—that we were merely in an epoch of expectation and waiting, and that more dangers and surprises were in store for us yet? Was it the natural revulsion of an active spirit from the quiet and confinement to which it was now subjected? Perhaps. Yet, maybe from mere coincidence, the whispering voice proved to jump with the facts. Whatever the cause, the events came to pass as follows. Dana had been absent for some weeks on a cruise and was expected to return in the course of a few days, when I was rather surprised by the news, brought by one of the old sailors who formed what Dana called his coast-guard, that his vessel was in sight far down on the Eastern horizon. What should have taken him so far in that direction I could not guess, nor why he should be concluding his cruise before the allotted time, which was by no means his habit. An hour later the same messenger came with the news, that the vessel was approaching, but that Mr. Dana had rigged up some very queer gear on board; and soon after came the further intelligence that the vessel in sight was not the "Hope," and that the smoke of a second steamer was just visible toward the same point of the compass.
What did this mean? As I hastened to the nearest look-out place I found the whole population, as it appeared, hurrying in anxious silence, broken only by confused murmurs, to the same spot. Arrived I took the glass from the old sailor and gazed long at the distant vessel. No, it was not the Hope. And sure enough, on the horizon was plainly seen the smoke of a second vessel; and as I thought, of a third. Had Europe then escaped the ruin of America, and was this some squadron of her many fleets exploring the seas in search of the remnant of the American people? Or was it rather a detachment sent by our relentless foes, who would not suffer even these poor relics of the human race to occupy a remote corner of the globe? If so, with Dana and his sailors absent, and the Roanoke and America practically unusable till their return, God help the poor Jeffersonians! We must fly to the mountains, and see our beautiful towns and gardens and farms laid waste once more; and if the monsters of the deep had brought with them land monsters to harry us, who could say that we should be safe even there?
I looked through the glass again. The first vessel had grown more distinct; the second was beginning to exhibit its outline; the faint streak indicating the third had become a dark thick line; and on the horizon was now to be seen a fourth,—yes and a fifth streak marking where the distant ships were pouring clouds of coal smoke into the sky. Five ships, if these were indeed the enemy, to combat our poor two! And our seamen, officers, engineers, gunners,—all absent. What could be done?
Nevertheless what I could do I did. Collecting the old coast-guardsmen—only nine or ten in all—I sent them on board the ships, with orders to put them in condition so far as they were able, to load the guns, and clear the decks as for an engagement. I also got together a few engineers and a posse of fellows to act as stokers, and instructed them to light the engine fires and get up steam with all speed. I supplemented my scratch crews with a number of young men and lads whom I placed under the orders of the old sailors, with instructions to do exactly what they were bidden, and nothing else. With all this I could not but look on the prospect of a battle with the gravest fears. Ought I not rather to abandon all resistance, which must almost certainly result in disaster, and take to flight with the whole populace? But then I was not yet certain that these vessels did belong to the enemy,—and again there was a chance, however poor, that Dana might return from his cruise before we were destroyed. So with the feeling that I had to make a choice of evils I proceeded with my preparations. Slight as they were, and inevitable as was the ruin if we should engage with a superior force of the enemy, these preparations saved the state. From which I draw the moral that even in desperate cases it is always wiser to carry out the best measures that the circumstances will admit, rather than to let things slide because you may fancy that nothing can be of any avail.
The foremost vessel having arrived at a distance of perhaps seven miles from us, slowed down, while her consorts rapidly overhauled her. It was not long before they had all come into line and anxiously we awaited their next move. Meantime I was in complete doubt what to do. If these were European vessels, or cruisers escaped from our country, it was my duty to hoist flags, fire guns, and do all in my power to attract their attention. If on the other hand they were the mis-begotten offspring of our American ports it was a matter of importance by every means to conceal our whereabouts. While in this undecided frame of mind I saw them change their course and bear away to the South. They were evidently leaving us. When the crowd observed that they were getting farther away a long low groan told us that our people looked upon them as saviours, not enemies; and struck with the idea that I might be casting away our one chance of communication with the outer world, I gave orders to hoist the United States ensign and the Union Jack of the Britannic Confederation on a conspicuous palm-tree. This signal produced no effect, the squadron still bearing farther away to the Southward. The groans and murmurings of the crowd grew louder, and against my better judgment I caught the infection of curiosity—the desire to know the best or the worst—and gave orders for one of the ships guns to be fired. As the echoes died away among the distant cliffs I perceived that they had not passed unheard by our visitors. The five vessels, now more distinct, checked their rapid course, wore round, and presently began to approach us in a direct line. Soon they had regained their lost ground, and ever as they approached the anxious desire of the populace to see them nearer gave place to a rising dread, lest we should have called down upon ourselves foes instead of friends, destruction in lieu of salvation.
And how they are scarcely four miles distant, well within the range of our heavy artillery; and as I watched their evolutions with my glass the dread uncertainty grew into a terrible conviction. There were no sailors on board this ghastly fleet: no kindly human beings come to rescue and restore us to the living world again; but instead of them I could now discern those hateful automatic appliances that had brought us into such danger in our former encounter. And now the great guns began to boom, and the heavy shot and shell to fly over our heads, no longer aimlessly scattered abroad as at our former encounter, but evidently directed by some unknown power towards the points whence our unlucky signal-shot had indicated our position. And the fickle mob once more lost its nerve, and groaned and murmured loudly against me for having drawn upon them death and destruction. I felt they were right. I had no business to have surrendered my judgment to their unreasoning complaints.
I dared not go on board the ships myself, lest in the only too probable event of a disaster I should leave my poor flock without a head. Nor did I think right to send Gell, whom I felt I could not afford to lose, and who besides seemed to be less suited for warlike exploits than he had been four years previously. His quiet life, peaceful avocations, and settled melancholy would not I thought qualify him for the energetic duties required of a naval commander going into action. So leaving my old coast-guardsmen in charge, I gave them the signal to weigh anchor and engage the enemy, feeling that I was ordering the poor fellows and the dear raw lads under their command to certain destruction. Although I would give no sign of fear in the presence of the people I felt convinced that the last act in the drama of the Extinction of Man was now come.
But even as the heavy chain cables were being dragged up by the steam-winches, and my forlorn hope was actually moving to its doom, there shot round the point not a mile to our right the gallant Hope—well named assuredly, for she bore on her decks the men who alone could save us from utter despair. Her appearance seemed to be observed by the enemy, for they once more slowed down, and advanced with extreme deliberation.
And how came Dana to return so opportunely? We learnt afterwards that while cruising off the Southern islands he too had seen the faint streaks of smoke darkening the Eastern sky. Full of anxiety he had coasted round, keeping carefully under the shadow of the cliffs and palm-trees to avoid discovery, in hopes to join us before the enemy could do us any damage. He well knew the hopelessness of any resistance we could offer, and was prepared to engage the whole of the hostile squadron single handed, and either defeat it or perish in the attempt.
The hesitation of the enemy gave us breathing-space. I saw the pressing need for haste, and signalled to Dana, "America and Roanoke have steam up. Send officers and men aboard;" and within five minutes was delighted to see two boats set off and pull hard for these vessels. It was only just in time.
For the enemy was again steaming onwards; the firing, intermitted for a time, had burst forth anew, and we saw some of the shell fall among our shanties and barns and set them afire. Fortunately the whole population except the few sick was out of doors.
There had been no time to arrange the plan of action, but by means of signals Dana made his design clear to the other vessels. Presently we saw them separate, the Hope bearing Southward, the other two Northward, so as to fetch a compass round the enemy's line. We observed that though four of the hostile squadron kept together in line the fifth remained behind, and took no part in the bombardment. Dana's manœuvre was made in order to avoid the heavy fire, which he rightly judged was being directed at our settlement rather than our ships.
The smoke concealed the contest from our view, till presently a tremendous explosion took place, and the shock to the atmosphere cleared the scene around. When we saw that one of the enemy had blown up, the excitement on shore knew no bounds. A few minutes later we saw the Roanoke bearing down upon another of the foe, with intent to ram her, but before the issue of the collision could be seen the pall of smoke again fell and concealed all from our gaze. The firing slackened. What would we not have given to know the fortunes of the fight?
So the battle continued for above half an hour, the smoke cloud drifting slowly northward or southward with the motions of the contending squadrons. At last the firing nearly ceased, the smoke began to thin, and we saw the last scene of the engagement. Our three vessels, thank God, were still afloat, while of the enemy's line only one was still showing fight, and the fifth or remaining ship hovered on the outskirts of the battle like a neutral spectator or newspaper reporter in a general engagement. And now the Roanoke and America ranged up on either side of the last fighting foe, and poured shot after shot into her bowels, till at last finding this method too slow, the latter drew away to some distance, and then rammed her with such force that she sank in five minutes. A rousing cheer from every throat proclaimed us once more the victors.
But Dana in the Hope now turned towards the cowardly foe that had kept a whole skin during the battle, while the America and Roanoke stood for the harbour, and were welcomed with cheer upon cheer as they steamed victoriously in. We had proved once more that man was lord of the world, and that neither brute-beasts nor monsters of iron and steel could dispute the mastery with him, save when he was already conquered by his own cowardice.
Having welcomed our sailors in hearty fashion we again turned our attention to Dana and his antagonist. The latter still showed no stomach for fighting, but fled, hotly pursued by the Hope. Both were miles away before the vessels met. We anxiously looked to see the expected firing, followed by the inevitable ramming; but to our surprise, neither took place. Instead of this the two vessels turned their heads and proceeded homeward in company. It seemed that Dana must have taken her prisoner, and put a prize crew on board, but why had he not rather sunk the hated monster in the depths of the Pacific? We needed no such captives in our peaceful isles.
However we should soon know all. Half an hour's steaming brought the two ships into harbour, the anchors were dropped, a boat put off from the Hope's side, and as we gathered to welcome the gallant admiral of our victorious fleet, what was my amazement—my rapture—my stupefaction, to see him hand on shore My Daughter Aurelia!