Although we maintained a very slow speed, it was not long before we nosed our way into the bay. Here the walls of the fiord retreated far enough to form a considerable body of water; nevertheless, it was plain we would have close work turning the _Nippon_ in such a space. It would be necessary to steam well over against the north bank, where there no longer was any moonlight and the shore line was swallowed up in inky blackness.
Redoubling the vigilance of our lookout, we began the maneuver. Slowly, Ensign Hallock swung the huge ship around. Twice it was necessary to stop and reverse the engines, accomplishing part of the turn by backing. In doing so, we had a narrow escape from running into a rocky promontory in the dark.
But at last the liner’s head was fairly about and the way seemed clear for our dash down the channel past the _Albatross_. As the officer signaled for more speed, all of us unconsciously steeled ourselves for the climax of our adventure.
But at that instant a deep-toned bell, sounding like the tocsin upon the Temple of the Moon God, began tolling in the distance. This was followed almost immediately by a series of sharp blasts from the whistle of the destroyer.
Now that we had completed the dangerous turn, my duties in the stern were finished, so I ran forward, joining Dr. Gresham, and together we climbed to the bridge.
“The Chinks must have discovered that their ship is gone!” was the greeting the young officer gave us.
He was hardly able to restrain his excitement; the prospect of a brush with the sorcerers seemed to give him great joy.
The steam chant and the tolling of the bell continued, as if intended for a general alarm.
“Must be getting their gang together!” the ensign remarked. “They’ll be laying for us now, but we’ll give them a run for their money!”
The liner now was beginning to get under considerable headway.
“We’re in dangerous quarters until we get out of this stretch of darkness!” the officer announced. “Here—you fellows each take a pair of glasses! You, doctor, keep watch from the starboard end of the bridge! You”—indicating myself—“go to the port side! Watch like hawks!”
We started, but—the command had come too late!
With a dull, long-drawn ripping sound from her interior, the great liner suddenly staggered and listed heavily to port! We were thrown off our feet.
“_Struck a rock!_” Ensign Hallock shouted, as he leaped up. And instantly he began signaling frantically to stop the engines. Almost in the same breath he yelled: “Go below—both of you—quick! See what damage has been done!”
As we rushed down from the bridge we could tell from the _feel_ of things that the vessel’s progress had come to a stop: the _Nippon_ was stuck fast!
At the head of the stairs leading to the boiler room we met the seamen, who had been doing stoker duty, rushing up.
“You can’t go down there!” they shouted. “The whole bottom’s torn out!”
Nevertheless, we leaped past them and continued below. But near the bottom of the stairs we were brought up short. A few lights still were burning, and in their feeble rays we could see huge foaming torrents pouring into the place. Already the floor was awash to a depth of two or three feet, and before we could take our eyes from the sight the flood seemed to rise several inches! Any moment the boilers might explode!
Up the steps we dashed madly.
As we reached the deck everyone was hurrying aft. We joined in the rush.
The tolling of the temple bell and the shrieking of the destroyer’s whistle continued in the distance: the Seuen-H’sin was preparing to take up our pursuit!
Then, before we could make another move, the vessel suddenly lurched backward and listed heavily to starboard, with her stern rising high out of the water. Then she began to nose forward under the waves.
_The Nippon was sinking!_
_CHAPTER XI_
A WILD NIGHT’S WORK
“Lower the boats!” yelled Ensign Hallock.
The coolness, readiness and energy of this young man in any emergency were an inspiration.
All of us flew to obey the command, our number dividing between the two boats nearest the stern. The liner was sinking so fast that in a few moments the boats would be afloat, anyway; nevertheless, we soon had our craft in the water.
“Take that canvas covering!” bawled the ensign. “We may need it for a sail!”
A sailor dragged the canvas into the boat, and we pushed off from the vessel.
The other party had encountered trouble with the davit-blocks, which occasioned a slight delay, and Hallock was just getting his boat into the water when—
With a terrific crash, the _Nippon’s_ boilers burst!
The huge craft broke in two amidship, the central portion of her decks leaping out of the water. The force of the explosion hurled Ensign Hallock and his men—lifeboat and all—over the stern amid a hurricane of débris, while our own craft was flung bottom-up with great violence, scattering us all about in the water.
In an incredibly brief time the _Nippon_ slipped from view under the waves, the swiftness of her sinking causing a violent suction that swept us into a whirlpool filled with timbers, broken boats and wreckage of all sorts.
Something heavy struck me on the head and knocked me almost senseless, but I clutched a floating object and hung on in a daze. Presently I heard voices calling not far away and, swimming toward them, I found a couple of men clinging to the life-boat. Others quickly began to join us—among them Dr. Gresham. Soon we had the boat righted and found it undamaged. Someone picked up some oars.
Then we began rowing about the scene of the wreck, shouting and keeping a lookout for other survivors. In this way we rescued seven more men—one of the last of these being Ensign Hallock, who was dazed from a bad cut on the head.
After a time, believing further search to be futile, we made our way to the north bank of the fiord.
There now were only fifteen of us left—twelve men having perished in the explosion. While we were roughly dressing the wounds of the injured, we began to hear excited shouts in Chinese from the other side of the water, but the width of the fiord here was such as to make the cries indistinct. As the voices did not draw nearer, we began to believe that the sorcerers possessed no small boats in which to cross to the scene of the wreck. This gave us a greater feeling of safety, since the only way the sorcerers could get at us for the present was by swimming; and not enough of them were likely to try to constitute a serious menace.
In the distance the whistling and bell-ringing had now died out.
Hastily conferring upon what should be done, we decided to stick to the lifeboat and drop down the channel, hoping to get out of the country of the Seuen-H’sin before daylight. This course seemed feasible, since the whole north bank of the fiord—the side opposite the village—was now in shadow.
We started at once, rowing along silently, close to the shore. Occasionally we heard voices on the south bank, but we made no closer acquaintance with the Chinese.
As we drew near the _Albatross_, we muffled our oarlocks with bits of cloth torn from our clothing, and took every precaution against making a sound.
A few lights were burning upon the destroyer’s deck, but otherwise she seemed deserted; possibly the Seuen-H’sin believed we had perished in the blowing up of the _Nippon_, and that they had nothing more to fear from intruders.
All at once, as we began to drop below the vessel, Ensign Hallock gave an order to cease rowing. Drawing us close together so we could hear his whispered words, he announced:
“Boys, let’s try to recapture the _Albatross_!”
Then, with repressed excitement, he unfolded a plan.
To our ears the ensign’s words sounded like a proposal of suicide; but the situation was appallingly desperate, and the upshot of the matter was that we decided to make the attempt.
“Who is to go with you?” I asked Hallock.
Several of the men promptly volunteered, and the ensign selected a muscular seaman named Jim Burns.
Agreeing upon a signal that should inform us when to follow them, the officer and his partner slipped off most of their clothing and, arming themselves only with knives, swam away. In a few seconds they were lost from sight.
From Hallock himself, afterward, I learned the story of their daring undertaking—although I am certain he greatly minimized the dangers they ran.
Reaching the deep shadows beside the destroyer, Hallock and Burns swam forward to the anchor chain hanging from the bow. There they waited a time, but, hearing not a sound from above, the officer climbed up the chain and looked over the edge of the deck. No one was in sight.
He signaled Burns to come after him. Then, clinging to the edge of the deck, with their bodies dangling down the side of the hull, out of sight of anyone above, they worked their way, hand-over-hand, back to a point opposite the after companionway. Still none of the Chinamen was in evidence.
The deck was lighted at this point and the rays of other electric lamps poured out of the open companionway; nevertheless, the men swung themselves up, climbed the rail, and darted to the side of the deck house. Leaving Burns here, Hallock crept alone around the corner to the companionway.