Part 25 (1/2)
”Now signal the fleet to prepare for action.”
”Aye, aye, Sir. That is done too.”
”Good. Now set the order to come to close quarters.”
”Close quarters it is, Sir,” soon responded the prompt mate.
The Nattie s.h.i.+ps were bearing down upon the mouth of Big Cave Harbor, arranged in the form of a half moon, the Emma in the centre of the line.
Pipe led one wing in the Ken, Commander Coral led the other in the Perseverance. Already the cavalry battalion had made the crossing, and was well up to the Pixie camp, close along sh.o.r.e, and almost within hailing distance of the fleet. A squad under command of Ensign Lawe was left to guard the sh.o.r.e road and make telegraphic signals to the fleet with the wigwag flags. Lieutenant MacWhirlie with the bulk of the troops pushed on and to the rear, with the purpose of falling upon the Pixie camp while the fleet attacked in front. The odd looking craft which had puzzled the lookout, had been towed off sh.o.r.e, and was now slowly gliding out of the harbor. The Stygians were seen from the Brownie s.h.i.+ps hanging in the rigging, manning the tops, swarming at their quarters upon deck, evidently ready for action.
[Ill.u.s.tration: FIG. 86.--”The Conning Tower of Pixie Thaddeus.”]
But not an anchor was raised, not a vessel stirred. The crews stood dumb and motionless, with eyes turned toward that strange craft bearing down steadily upon the Brownie vessels.
”What can it be?” queried the Brownies.
n.o.body knew. No sail, nor mast, nor spar, nor rigging of any kind was to be seen upon it. Not a sailor showed himself anywhere. It had no visible motive power, and went through the water as though driven by an unseen spirit hand.
”What can it be?” exclaimed Pipe, whose command lay nearest the strange vessel.
[Ill.u.s.tration: Telegraphic Signal Flags: 87, Black with White Centre; 88, White and Black; 89, Red and White; 90, White and Red.]
”I believe it is the new ram the Pixies have been talking so much about lately,” answered Sergeant True. ”They have been trying to keep it a secret, but the thing has leaked out. It looks like an ugly affair.”
”Ugly? I should say so!” said the old salt warmly. ”It is nothing but the cast off sh.e.l.l of a water snail. Call that seamans.h.i.+p? n.o.body but a lubber or a Pixie would be willing to sail or fight in such a tub as that.”
”Well, I'm only a lubber, you know,” answered True, ”and have but a landsman's notion of things. But to my mind that ram, or sh.e.l.l, or tub or whatever it may be, will turn the tide of battle against us if we don't look out. See! the davids are playing on it from all parts of our fleet. The shot bounds off its sides like thistle-down. It keeps straight on its way, like grim Fate, turning neither to the right hand nor the left. Do you see, Boatswain? the creature is making straight for us!”
”Aye, aye! let it come on. I say pooh! to all your croaking. Stand by, now, and see how a genuine sailor can knock the bottom out of all the floating bra.s.s, iron, or snail-sh.e.l.l pots that ever went to sea. Launch the boats, lads! We'll pull up to this Stygian kettle and see if we can't find some hole in it through which our cutla.s.ses will make way.”
Next to the Ken was the captured Pixie s.h.i.+p Tattle, which had been turned into the Brownie navy with the new name Praise, and Clearview, as a reward for his service in saving Rodney's life, had been promoted to command her. Next to the Praise was the Hope, Commander Fluke. As the Pixie ram neared the left wing, composed of the three vessels just named, it suddenly s.h.i.+fted its course and bore straight down upon the Praise.
”Fire!” cried Clearview. A harmless broadside was poured upon the Ram.
”Again,” shouted Clearview. ”Aim below the water line; I see an opening there.”
Another broadside was delivered with no better effect. On, on the weird monster moved, straight toward the s.h.i.+p. Every eye in both fleets was fixed upon the Praise. Every heart throbbed with anxiety.
Cras.h.!.+
A groan of dismay ran along the line of the Brownie squadron. A wild yell of joy rose from the Pixie s.h.i.+ps. The solid prow of the ram had crushed through the leafy side of the Praise, as an iron steams.h.i.+p would run through a fis.h.i.+ng schooner. She sank in a moment leaving her crew struggling in the waves.
More quickly than one would have thought so clumsy a craft could move, the Ram turned and bore down upon the Hope. The Natties aboard this s.h.i.+p were dismayed at the fate of their comrades, but not a man swerved from his post.
”Boarders, ahoy!” shouted Fluke.
”Aye, aye, Sir!”
”Prepare to board the enemy. Drop from the cross-trees. Spring from the deck. Heave the grapnels if you can.”
Brave but hopeless struggle! The Ram crushed into the Hope as into the Praise. A few of the Natties succeeded in leaping upon the smooth round turret of the enemy, only to roll off again into the lake, and be engulfed in the vortex of their sinking s.h.i.+p.