In the Track of the Troops by Robert Michael Ballantyne (fantasy books to read TXT) 📖

I remained perfectly quiet and observant.

After an hour's steaming the Russian launches came to the immediate neighbourhood of the enemy's flotilla, and the engines were slowed.

Each boat was armed with two torpedoes attached to the end of two long spars, which moved on pivots, and could also be dipped so that the torpedoes should be sunk ten feet under water at any moment. These torpedoes--each being about twenty inches long, by about fifteen in diameter--had a double action. They could be fired by "contact," or, in the event of that failing, by electricity. The latter mode could be accomplished by an electric battery in a little box in the stern of each boat, with which a long cable, a quarter of an inch thick, of fine wires twisted together, connected each torpedo.

All this, of course, I learned afterwards. At the time, sitting in almost total darkness, I knew nothing more than that we were bound on a torpedo expedition. I could scarcely persuade myself that it was not a dream, but my numbed frame and drenched garments were too real to be doubted, and then I fancied it must be a special judgment to punish me for the part I had taken in the improvement of these terrible implements of war.

Despite the slowing of the engines, and the dead silence that prevailed, the boats were observed by the Turkish sentinels as we approached.

"Who goes there?" was demanded in the Turkish language.

The launch in which I sat was the first to approach, but the officer in command took no notice and made no reply.

Again the sentinel challenged--perhaps doubting whether in the darkness his eyes had not deceived him as well as his ears. Still no answer was given.

The darkness was not now quite so intense, and it was evident that longer concealment was impossible; when, therefore, the challenge was given a third time, our Russian commander replied, and I thought I observed a grim smile on his countenance as he said in Turkish, "Friends!"

The sentinel, however, seeing that we continued to advance, expressed his disbelief in our friendship by firing at us.

Then there began an uproar the like of which I had never before conceived. Being very near the Turkish monitor at the time, we distinctly heard the clattering of feet, the shout and rush of sailors, and the hurried commands to prepare for action. There was no lack of promptitude or energy on board the vessel. There was some lack of care or discipline, however, for I heard the order for the bow gun to be fired given three times, and heard the click of the answering hammer three times in little more than as many seconds, betokening a determined miss-fire. But if the bow gun _had_ gone off, and sent one of us to the bottom, there would still have been three boats left to seal the vessel's fate.

At the fourth order a globe of flame leaped from the iron side of the monitor and a heavy shot went harmlessly over our heads. Shouts and lights in the other vessels showed that the entire flotilla was aroused.

I observed that the launch next to ours drew off and we advanced alone, while the other two remained well behind, ready to support. A sharp fusillade had now been opened on us, and we heard the bullets pattering on our iron screen like unearthly hail, but in spite of this the launch darted like a wasp under the monitor's bow. The torpedoes were arranged so as to be detached from their spars at any moment and affixed by long light chains to any part of an attacked ship. Round a rope hanging from the bow of the vessel one of these chains was flung, and the torpedo was dropped from the end of the spar, while the launch shot away, paying out the electric cable as she went. But this latter was not required. The torpedo swung round by the current and hit the ship with sufficient violence. It exploded, and the column of water that instantly burst from under the monitor half filled and nearly swamped us as we sped away. The noise was so great that it nearly drowned for an instant the shouts, cries, and firing of the Turks. The whole flotilla now began in alarm to fire at random on their unseen foes, and sometimes into each other.

Meanwhile the launches, like vicious mosquitoes, kept dodging about, struck often, though harmlessly, by small shot, but missed by the large guns.

Our commander now perceived that the monitor he had hit was sinking, though slowly, at the bows. He shouted, therefore, to the second launch to go at her. She did so at once; slipped in, under the fire and smoke that belched from her side, and fixed another torpedo to her stern in the same manner as the former. The officer in charge perceived, however, that the current would not drive it against the ship. He therefore shot away for a hundred yards,--the extent of his electric cable,--and then fired the charge. A terrible explosion took place. Parts of the ship were blown into the air, and a huge plank came down on the Russian launch, like an avenging thunderbolt, pierced the iron screen, which had so effectually resisted the bullets, and passed between two sailors without injuring either. It did no further damage, however, and when the crew turned to look at their enemy, they saw the great ironclad in the act of sinking. In a few minutes nothing of her was left above water except her masts. The crew were drowned, with the exception of a few who escaped by swimming.

By this time it was daybreak, and our danger, within near range of the other monitors, of course became very great. Just then an incident occurred which might have proved fatal to us. Our screw fouled, and the boat became unmanageable. Observing this, a Turkish launch from one of the monitors bore down upon us. One of our sailors, who chanced to be a good diver, jumped over the side and cleared the screw. Meanwhile the men opened so heavy fire on the enemy's launch that she veered off, and a few minutes later we were steaming down the Danube towards the place from which the boats had set forth on their deadly mission.

"That was gloriously done, wasn't it?" said Nicholas to me with enthusiasm, after the first blaze of excitement began to abate;--"one of the enemy's biggest ironclads sent to the bottom, with all her crew, at the trifling expense of two or three hundred pounds' weight of powder, and not a man injured on our side!"

I looked earnestly in my friend's handsome face for a few seconds.

"Yes," said I, slowly; "many thousands of pounds' worth of human property destroyed, months of human labour and ingenuity wasted, and hundreds of young lives sacrificed, to say nothing of relatives bereaved and souls sent into eternity before their time--truly, if _that_ is glory, it has been gloriously done!"

"Bah! Jeff," returned Nicholas, with a smile; "you're not fit to live in this world, you should have had a special one created for yourself. But come, let me hear how you came to be voyaging _a la Boyton_ on the Danube."

We at once began a rapid fire of question and reply. Among other things, Nicholas informed me that the two boats which had accomplished this daring feat were commanded by Lieutenants Dubasoff and Thestakoff, one with a crew of fourteen, the other of nine, men.

"The world is changing, Nicholas," said I, as we landed. "That the wooden walls of Old England have passed away has long been acknowledged by every one, but it seems to me now that her iron walls are doomed to extinction, and that ere long the world's war-navies will consist of nothing but torpedo-boats, and her wars will become simply tournaments therewith."

"It may be so," said Nicholas gaily, as he led the way to his quarters. "It may be that extremes shall meet at last, and we shall be reduced by sheer necessity to universal peace."

"That would be glorious indeed," said I, "though it would have the uncomfortable effect of leaving you without employment."

"Well, in the meantime," he rejoined, "as you are without employment just now, you must consider yourself my prisoner, for of course you cannot remain among us without passport, profession, purpose, or business of any kind. To be shot for a spy is your legitimate due just now. But we shall want surgeons soon, and newspaper correspondence is not a bad business in these times; come, I'll see what can be done for you."


CHAPTER NINE.


IN WHICH LANCEY IS TRIED, SUSPECTED, BLOWN UP, CAPTURED, HALF-HANGED, DELIVERED, AND ASTONISHED.

We must turn now to poor Lancey, from whom I parted in the waters of the Danube, but with whose fate and doings I did not become acquainted until long afterwards.

As I had anticipated, he missed the vessel of the Turkish flotilla towards which he had struck out, but fortunately succeeded in grappling the chain cable of that which lay next to it, and the crew of which, as the reader will recollect, I had roused by a shout in passing.

Lancey soon let the Turks know where he was. A boat being lowered, he was taken on board, but it was clear to him that he was regarded with much suspicion. They hurried him before the officer in charge of the deck, who questioned him closely. The poor fellow now found that his knowledge of the Turkish language was much slighter than, in the pride of his heart, while studying with me, he had imagined. Not only did he fail to understand what was said to him, but the dropping of h's and the introduction of r's in wrong places rendered his own efforts at reply abortive. In these circumstances one of the sailors who professed to talk English was sent for.

This man, a fine stalwart Turk, with a bushy black beard, began his duties as interpreter with the question--

"Hoosyoo?"

"Eh? say that again," said Lancey, with a perplexed look.

"Hoosyoo?" repeated the Moslem, with emphasis.

"Hoosyoo," repeated Lancey slowly. "Oh, I see," (with a smile of sudden intelligence,) "who's you? Just so. I'm Jacob Lancey, groom in the family of Mrs Jeff Childers, of Fagend, in the county of Devonshire, England."

This having been outrageously misunderstood by the Turk, and misinterpreted to the officer, the next question was--

"Wessyoocumfro?"

"Wessyoocumfro?"

Again Lancey repeated the word, and once more, with a smile of sudden intelligence, exclaimed, "Ah, I see: w'ere's you come from? Well, I last come from the water, 'avin' previously got into it through the hupsettin' of our boat."

Lancey hereupon detailed the incident which had left him and me struggling in the water, but the little that was understood by the Turks was evidently not believed; and no wonder, for by that time the Russians had been laying down torpedoes in all directions about the Danube, to prevent the enemy from interfering with their labours at the pontoon bridges. The Turkish sailors were thus rendered suspicious of every unusual circumstance that came under their notice. When, therefore, a big, powerful, and rather odd-looking man was found clinging to one of their cables, they at