CHAPTER XXIX.

LIKE A BATTLE OF OLDEN TIMES.

The fight between those two splendid battle-ships Ting-Yuen of 7430 tons and the Matsushima of 4300 tons, was a combat that puts us in mind of some of the battles of olden days, when chiefs met single-handed, and before their assembled armies decided the fate of the day.

It will be observed that the Chinese ship was fully three thousand tons heavier than the Japanese, and she carried more heavy guns too.

But the admiral of the latter had skill and daring and his vessel had far greater speed, for, while the Chinaman could only steam fourteen knots, the Jap could do over seventeen. She had also more quick-firing guns, and no living thing can stand a moment before these terrible weapons of modern naval warfare.

Creggan was stationed in one barbette—the port—and his friend in another, while Goodwin worked a gun not far from our hero.

I have never had a chance of interviewing my friend the Ugly Duckling as to his feelings during their terrible ship-to-ship engagement, but it is not long since I talked with Creggan himself. He describes the battle as a fearful tempest of fire and blood.

"What were your feelings, Creggan?" I asked.

"You mean," he answered, "when we ranged up to fight the Chinese flag-ship?"

"Yes," I said.

"Well," he replied, "I cannot very well tell you. For to begin with, the Matsushima had already received her baptism of blood, and I had shuddered to see men mangled out of all shape of humanity by bursting shells, and others borne below, leaving here a limb and there a ghastly arm behind, the blood spurting fountain-like over the faces and clothes of the bearers.

"It might be my turn next, and that of the brave men who crowded the barbette.

"Was I afraid?" he continued. "I confess I was. It was something more than fear that took possession of my soul. I felt a cold terror creeping round my heart, for I had no hopes of life. Such terror as this it must be that a doomed man experiences when walking towards the scaffold with trembling limbs and cold perspiring knees. But I had prayer to support me. I do not know if you will quite understand me, when I say that I could see far beyond the awful din and roar and smoke of battle, see an eye above bidding me be of good cheer, whether death should come or not.

"Every bullet has it billet. Yes, but a bursting projectile in modern warfare has not one billet, but a hundred. The destruction some of these shells cause cannot be grasped by anyone who has not seen it.

"But here is a curious thing. No sooner did the first great boom of one of our guns take place, and our huge shell go roaring away on its mission of destruction, than all fear and terror passed away. I was as exalted now, although calm, as if I had taken a great dose of morphia, such as Dr. Grant once gave me.

"The first shot came from the foe—I mean the first that told. We could see from where I stood the quick, spiteful puff of white smoke and its awful tongue of red fire, and almost at the same time nearly every man around me had fallen to the deck with the fearful concussion as the Chinese projectile struck us almost amidships.

"But now the battle raged fast and furious. Small though we were in comparison with the Chinaman, we circled around, and hardly did we fire a shot which did not tell.

"We soon had the intense satisfaction of seeing the Ting-Yuen in flames. A few more of our shots and a torpedo would have sunk her, had not her sister ship, the Chen-Yuen, come to her and stood by her.

"The Chinese flag-ship was now unable to work her guns, but if," said Creggan, "my memory serves me right, it was the last shell she fired which worked such fearful havoc on board our poor ship.

"This shell was not only terrible in itself, but, bursting near to a large heap of ammunition, it exploded it, tearing our decks almost to pieces, and killing or wounding about eighty of our crew.

"I myself escaped that time," he continued.

"Yes," I said, "but you have an empty sleeve."

"True, but it was a shell from another vessel that tore away my forearm after this.

"But poor honest Goodwin was rent in pieces. I marked his brave looks but a minute or two before this, next when I saw him he formed one in that awful heap of carnage, when arms, limbs, heads, and bodies were huddled together, with stanchions, broken pieces of conning-tower, all torn up like pasteboard, and the smoke of warfare rising slowly from the bleeding mass.

"Ah, well! so quick was the death, that honest Goodwin couldn't have known what hit him.

"Meanwhile the battle raged on, and it was just an hour after this when I had my own disaster. I felt no pain. There was a bright flash of light across my eyes, that was all; and I was advancing to assist in training my gun, when a comrade flung himself towards me. I was for the moment unaware that I was wounded, but fell fainting to the deck.

"When I recovered my senses, I was lying in the battery with a tourniquet around my arm. I was shortly after removed below, and saw no more of the fearful fight. But I was told that at half-past three we sank the King-Yuen, and after this our fleet, which in its two divisions, had circled right round the Chinese, causing them great confusion, hemmed them in.

"The flying squadron passed the Chih-Yuen, giving her fits, turned, swept back again, and finally under its terrible fire she heeled over and sank with all hands.

"I may say that the carnage in our tops was fearful. Blood spurting from the dead and dying, and rushing in a red stream adown the masts.

"Owing to their wonderful strength and fourteen-inch armour belts, the Chinese flag-ship and her sister, though utterly wrecked and riddled as to their upper works, continued to float and fight to the end.

"The Chinamen had certainly fought well, but shortly before sunset thought they had had enough of it and fled. Our flying squadron followed, peppering them as they went, but just as gloaming was descending on the now gray sea they were recalled, and thus ended the ever-memorable naval battle of the Yalu river."

* * * * * * * * * * *

This brilliant Japanese victory, reader, had a great effect on the campaign on land.

"Even without it," says the historian, "Japan's military superiority was so overwhelming and China's collapse so complete, that no single event could have altered the fortunes of the war. But the crushing defeat of the Chinese fleet, and the consequent command of the sea held by the Japanese, facilitated all their operations, and enabled them to land their armies when and where they chose, and to conceive bold plans of campaign, which would have been too hazardous without such a naval supremacy."

I must refer the reader who is interested in the subsequent triumphs of Japanese soldiers to books on history. And these are plentiful enough.

* * * * * * * * * * *

One day about six weeks after the fearful fight in which Creggan had lost his forearm, the British paddle-frigate Osprey hove in sight, and both our chief hero and the Duckling, who, by the way, had come through the fiery ordeal all safe and unscathed, were transferred once more to their floating home.

They were both very sorry indeed to bid adieu to the brave Japs. Every officer was a gentleman, and had treated them with the greatest kindness.

CHAPTER XXX.

COURT-MARTIALED.

It would be difficult indeed to say which of the animals was most glad to welcome our heroes on their return.

Hurricane Bob, after a rough canine salute, must go dashing round and round the deck, to the danger of the limbs if not the lives of the honest sailors, flashing his white teeth and his red flag of a tongue in a vain effort to allay his feelings.

Oscar was different, he had so much to say to his master, who was once again soothing and petting him, that he got great-hearted, and whined and scolded and cried by turns. Just like a dog, you know.

But Admiral Jacko confined his attentions almost solely to his master, and his joy was one of fondness, if not effusion. He crept into the Ugly Duckling's arms, and it was said that he really shed tears. But I do not quite believe that, for I am of opinion that man is, after all, the only animal who weeps, or rather woman is. Yes, I have often heard of crocodiles' tears, and what is better still, I have more than once examined the face of one of these saurian monsters who dwell in the marshy interior of Africa, and I have never seen the vestige of a tear about the ugly beast's cheeks.

Perhaps you may say I didn't go near enough.

No, catch me doing anything of the sort, because the crocodile would have played the game of "catch me quick". But I have stood at a respectful distance, and made my inspection through the telescope.

Well, I have never seen a monkey weep.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Having done her duty in Chinese waters, and heard that the Foo-kies had been well thrashed, as indeed they deserved to be, the good ship Osprey sailed once more for Bombay.

Thence she was sent down to Zanzibar with dispatches, and from that place to the Cape of Good Hope again.

On boarding the flag-ship in company with poor one-armed Creggan, his junior lieutenant, Captain Leeward was not sorry to find that at long, long last the "Ordered home" had arrived.

It was time; the commission had been a long one, and the sanitary condition of the ship was not everything that could be desired. This was principally owing to the millions of gigantic cockroaches that swarmed everywhere.

There were very many other creepie-creepies on board the Osprey as well as cockroaches. Of these latter there were two species, one the little sort, about three-quarters of an inch in length, the other, the true Blatta orientalis, two inches and a half from stem to stern, with feelers three inches long, of immense breadth of beam, spiked legs, and an outspread of wing when they flew of about three inches.

Well, there were many kinds of spiders, scorpions, earwigs, an occasional tarantula, whose bite may produce delirium and death, and whole colonies of little ants. But now and then a gigantic centiped would appear, and these are dreaded even more than are snakes.

So on the whole, the Osprey at the tail end of the commission offered a fine field for the study of natural history.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Homeward-bound! What joy it spreads over every heart on board a ship, from that of the boy who helps the cook, feeds the pets, and gets kicked about by all hands, to the captain himself, who, if he does not say much, cannot hide the pleasure that beams in his face and eyes.

There is a commander in the Royal Navy (retired), still alive while I write, who was present at the funeral of Britain's greatest hero, Admiral Nelson. This officer might well be called the father of the navy, for he is now in his hundredth year.

Well, had he come on board on Saturday night while the Osprey was making her long homeward-bound passage from the Cape to England, he would certainly have considered himself back once more in the dear days of old.

There certainly was not the same amount of tossing of cans, but the main-brace was spliced by the captain's orders, and away forward down below, around the galley and at the fo'c's'le head, many a song was heard, many a yarn spun, and many a heart beat high and warm with the thoughts of home and Merrie England.

It really appeared that the Osprey herself knew she was homeward bound.

She was the sauciest of the saucy, "for an old un", as Jack phrased it.

"The old jade!" someone would remark, as she curtseyed to a wave, flinging the spray far over the bows; "the old jade! I believe she is doing it on purpose. Whoa, lass, whoa!"

And some of the songs sung on that Saturday night were perhaps homely enough, but every one of them breathed of the brine and the billows. Two verses, for example—they were trolled by Chips the carpenter, the hoarse old bo's'n putting in a good bass, and some of Mother Carey's chickens piping a tenor as they dashed from blue wave to blue wave after itinerant white-bait—I give below:

JACK AND HIS NANCY.

"Scarce the foul hurricane was cleared,
    Scarce winds and waves had ceased to rattle,
Ere a bold enemy appeared,
    And, dauntless, we prepared for battle.
And now while some lov'd friend or wife
    Like lightning rush'd on ev'ry fancy,
To Providence I trusted life,
    Put up a prayer—and thought of Nancy.

"At last—'twas in the month of May,
    The crew, it being lovely weather,
At three A.M. discovered day
    And England's chalky cliffs together;
At seven up Channel how we bore!
    While hopes and fears rush'd on my fancy;
At twelve I gaily jumped on shore,
    And to my throbbing heart press'd Nancy."

* * * * * * * * * * *

Well, that is all very well in song, but nowadays at all events Jack doesn't get leave to jump on shore at twelve if his ship comes in at seven. Nor for a day or two, or even three. There is a clean bill of health to be got first, and any amount of little matters and morsels of red tape to be seen to.

But Nancy may come on board, and Jack isn't a bit shy at such times. Oh no, I never met a true sailor who was.

* * * * * * * * * * *

I have now to relate a very strange experience that befell Creggan and his friend the Ugly Duckling.

The ship had not long lain at anchor off the Hoe, when, after a deal of signalling from the admiral's office, Captain Leeward, with a strange smile on his face, came up to the place where the two young officers stood looking over the bulwarks at the crowd of shore-boats, and passing many a quaint and humorous remark.

Seeing the captain, they turned and saluted at once.

"I regret to inform you, gentlemen," said Captain Leeward, "that you are both prisoners. Don't be afraid; it will be a mere formality, I am sure. Meanwhile, I must do my duty. You are on parole, if you give me your word you will make no attempt to leave the ship."

"Oh, certainly, sir. But—may—may I ask you what we shall be tried for?"

The captain laughed now.

"Why," he answered, "only for assisting the Japs against an enemy with whom we are at peace. Keep up your hearts, boys. I sha'n't put a sentry over you, but just give up your sword, Lieutenant Creggan Ogg M'Vayne, and you, young sir, your dirk, to the officer of the watch."

I have no desire at this end of my story to describe the formalities—solemn enough in all conscience—of the court of inquiry.

That sword of Creggan's and the Ugly Duckling's dirk lay side by side on the green-baize-covered table, surrounded by officers in fullest uniform, and the two prisoners stood between marines with fixed bayonets, near one end of the table.

Neither of the young officers denied anything, and when asked what he had to say in his defence, Creggan replied:

"Nothing at all, except that I wear an empty sleeve in commemoration of the grandest naval battle of modern times. But I must add that I would do the same again, for it isn't in British human nature to stand by with finger in mouth while battle is raging round."

There was much grave conversation after the prisoners had been withdrawn, and finally they were ordered in.

"I dare say," whispered the Duckling to Creggan a minute before this, "it will be a shooting case. Heigh-ho! what will become of poor Jacko, and I'm sure my sister will break her heart!"

But to their joy, when they returned looking pale and anxious, the sword and dirk were handed back, and they were told that they left the court without a stain on their character.

There were positively tears in the eyes of both young fellows as the officers shook hands with them.

The admiral of the port invited both to dinner that evening. He was as anxious as anybody could be to hear a personal narrative of the great sea-fight.

I may mention here as well as elsewhere, that before Creggan went back to his mother's house at Torquay he received the Victoria Cross from the hands of Her Majesty herself, and for such an honour as this I believe the bold young fellow would have been content to go through far more than he had done.

CHAPTER XXXI.

SAFELY HOME AT LAST.

Yes, after all their tales and adventures, our heroes are once more safe on British ground. What says Dibdin?

"No more of winds and waves the sport,
Our vessel is arrived in port;
At anchor, see, she safely rides,
And gay red ropes adorn her sides.
The sails are furl'd, the sheets belay'd;
The flag that floats astern display'd,
Deserted are the useless shrouds,
The lasses row aboard by crowds.
Then come, my lads, let joy abound,
We're safely moor'd on English ground!"

* * * * * * * * * * *

It only remains for me to "muster by open list", as we say in the Royal Navy.

Let me say a word or two, then, about my dramatis personæ, and so clue up.

There are always a few surprises awaiting the sailor when he returns home after a long cruise. Jack looks forward to these with some anxiety, as the ship is getting nearer and still more near to the chalky cliffs of Old England. He thinks himself a very happy man indeed if these surprises turn out to be pleasant ones; which, alas! they are not always. Some dear one,—father, mother, wife, sister, or sweetheart, who ought to have come out in a shore-boat to meet him, is missing.

But there are friends alongside to bear him the sad tidings.

She is dead! He is dead!

And poor Jack had been so expectantly happy for days and weeks before this! He had entirely forgotten that there was any such thing as death in the world.

Look at his sadly bewildered face now.

"Courage, Jack, courage!" says some brave mess-mate with a tear in his eye. Jack returns the pressure of the hard yet friendly hand, but—goes down below to weep.

* * * * * * * * * * *

As soon as the Osprey was paid off, and he had bade farewell to his mess-mates, Creggan, accompanied by his dearest friend the Ugly Duckling, took train for Torquay.

He did not even telegraph to say he was coming. The two arm in arm, after paying off the hansom they had chartered, sauntered up the terraced garden and rang the great hall bell.

Ah! but Matty herself had been watching. A lovely girl she was now of sweet seventeen.

The meeting of the lovers, for lovers I now may call them, was heartfelt and cordial; but Creggan did not venture to kiss her.

Then she spied the empty sleeve, and, girl-like, burst into tears.

"Ah, never mind, dear!" said Creggan soothingly. "See what it has brought me—honour and glory, and the Victoria Cross."

"Oh, Creggan, Creggan," cried Matty, "the poor arm was worth a thousand Victoria Crosses!"

"Oh, it wasn't for that I got the Cross! But how do you come to be here, Matty?"

"Oh, I've been living here for months. Just keeping your dear mother company."

"And where is mother?"

"She has gone into the town. She will be home soon. You will have time to tell me quite a deal before she comes."

The Ugly Duckling, with Admiral Jacko in full uniform, had been standing at some little distance, but now Creggan beckoned him forward and introduced him.

"My dearest friend and shipmate, Matty."

The Duckling bowed, ship-shape and sailor-fashion; so did the Admiral.

Matty was laughing now right merrily.

"I'm sure," said his master, "Admiral Jacko would make a speech if he could. I must make one in his stead. Well, Miss Matty, I can't help saying what I think, you're just about the sweetest, all-tautest little craft I've seen since I left Venezuela, and if I were not engaged to be married, why—I'd—I'd run my friend aboard, cut him out, and marry you myself."

Matty bent down over Oscar to caress him, but at the same time to hide her blushes.

"Well, I'm going to take Jacko inside," said the Duckling. "I'm sure I shall find something for him to eat, and something to drink."

And away he marched, which was really very kind and thoughtful of him.

Then hand in hand down through the shrubbery and rose lawns went Creggan and Matty. Ah!—

"There's nothing half so sweet in life
    As love's young dream".

Creggan felt almost too happy to speak. But he did speak at last, and from all I know he told the old, old, but ever new tale.

"Now tell me, Matty," he said after this, "how your father is. You have said my mother is well."

"Yes, and dear old father too. But he is much in London now."

"And Willie?"

"Oh, that is why Daddy is in London. Willie, you know, stood for the borough of Blankham, and was duly elected. Weren't we all so happy just? And I've been to the strangers' gallery myself, and saw Willie in his place. And really he looked by far the nicest there. I only wonder that—"

She paused.

"That what, Matty?"

"That when he rose to make a speech they coughed him down."

"Exceedingly rude!"

"Yes, but they did; and Willie got so red in the face, and I thought he was going to cry. But he just took up his hat and was going to leave, when a kind-faced gentleman with long white hair put a hand on his shoulder. I don't know what he said, but Willie went straight back to his seat and sat down again."

* * * * * * * * * * *

"But you haven't said a word about my Daddy the hermit, and I hope he lives."

"Not only does he live, Creggan, but he has left Skye and his lonely island, and has come to settle down close beside us here. He dines with us every night."

"How delightful!"

"The minister says he is clothed and in his right mind."

"Poor old Daddy, he always was in his right mind."

"Ah! but you should see how nicely he dresses now. You would take him for some reverend old professor. You will see him to-night."

"And Archie M'Lean?"

"Still in America, and I think will remain there for years. They say he is making money, and that he means to come back and marry Maggie."

"What, Maggie M'Ian?"

"Yes."

"Heigh-ho!" sighed Creggan. "I feel getting very old."

Matty laughed right merrily. "Poor old sailor!" she said roguishly. "But, oh, look, here comes Daddy himself!" And so it was.

Matty might well have said he looked like an old professor. His hair was long and gray, and he was dressed in broadcloth. Yet there was no sign of age about him as the glad smile of surprise brightened his face, and he hurried up with both hands extended to greet and welcome Creggan home.

"My own dear sailor boy!"

He could say no more just then, and like Matty took refuge in the caresses he bestowed on Oscar.

Yes, Oscar knew him well after all these years, for dogs never, never do forget the dear ones they love.

Need I add that the meeting betwixt Creggan and his mother was a happy one? Surely that is unnecessary.

The Ugly Duckling and Admiral Jacko were declared to be prisoners for three weeks.

"But my sister, madam!" was all the former urged against his imprisonment.

That objection was quickly set aside, for Creggan's mother sent for her, and she joined the jolly party at "The Pines".

* * * * * * * * * * *

Years have gone since then.

Creggan has retired, of course. One-armed sailors are not considered available for active service.

But it is only a few months since our hero led Matty to the altar, a bonnie, bonnie young bride indeed.

And the Ugly Duckling, who has also retired, having come into some money, is now master of a beautiful barque (clipper), and she is all his own.

He took the newly-wedded couple down the Mediterranean on a long honeymoon. This was all the more jolly because the hermit himself, with Oscar and Admiral Jacko, were of the party.

And so the story ends.

Oh no, not quite; I must let the Ugly Duckling have the very last word.

He and Creggan were sitting together on the quarter-deck while sailing down the blue Levant, and while the stars, so lustreful, shone above them and were reflected from the sea, it was in answer to a remark of Creggan's that he spoke.

"Yes, dear boy," he said, "I'm going out to Venezuela soon, and if Natina still loves me, she shall be my bride. For who but romantic Natina could think of giving her heart and hand to so ugly a duckling as poor me?"

THE BOYS' LIBRARY

Uniform with this Volume

Silas Verney.     Edgar Pickering.
The Missing Merchantman.     Harry Collingwood.
Brothers in Arms.     F. Bayford Harrison.
The Lost Explorers.     Alex. Macdonald.
The Great White Chief.     R. M. Macdonald.
Brownsmith's Boy.     G. Manville Fenn.
Nat the Naturalist.     G. Manville Fenn.
Bunyip Land.     G. Manville Fenn.
The Pirate Island.     Harry Collingwood.
Dick o' the Fens.     G. Manville Fenn.
Devon Boys.     G. Manville Fenn.
In the King's Name.     G. Manville Fenn.
The Golden Magnet.     G. Manville Fenn.
The Log of the "Flying Fish".     Harry Collingwood.
Across the Spanish Main.     Harry Collingwood.
The Pilots of Pomona.     Robert Leighton.
The Golden Galleon.     Robert Leighton.
The Naval Cadet.     Dr. Gordon Stables.
Grit Will Tell.     R. Stead.

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