Chapter Seven.

A Night-Attack.

The day following the joint adventure of Douglas and Montt in Antofagasta a telegram arrived for the skipper of the Covadonga, ordering him to leave the place immediately, and rejoin the flag at Valparaiso without delay. All shore leave was accordingly stopped, and that same evening the gunboat raised her anchor and steamed out of Chimba Bay, on her way to the headquarters port. The telegram had also contained a warning that the Peruvian warships Huascar and Union were prowling up and down the coast, and, as each one separately was a good deal more than a match for the little Covadonga, it behoved her captain to keep a very sharp look-out for any sign of the enemy, especially as the gunboat was not fast enough to enable her to rely upon her speed for safety.

Men were, consequently, posted at the mastheads, with orders to report directly any sign of a strange ship was seen, and the ship slid slowly along under the stars, keeping as close in to the land as possible. As soon as his watch was at an end that night, Douglas, feeling rather tired after his experience of the previous evening, went down below and turned into his bunk; and it was not very long before he was in the land of dreams.

It seemed to him that he had only just fallen asleep when he was rudely awakened by a commotion up on deck. He lay half awake in his bunk for a minute or two, and heard men running about overhead, the sound of excited voices shouting, and then, loud and clear above the uproar, rang out Carlos Condell’s voice giving orders for the men to be called to quarters and the guns to be cast loose. Evidently, thought Jim, there was more fighting in the wind. He quickly tumbled into his clothes, slung his uniform ulster over his shoulders, for the night was cold, and stumbled up on deck, every pulse in him throbbing with excitement at the anticipation of another encounter with the enemy.

As he dashed up through the hatchway he cannoned into, and almost knocked down, his friend Montt, who was rushing forward with orders from the skipper.

“Hallo, Montt!” Jim ejaculated, “what’s the matter this time?”

“Two steamers have just been sighted coming out of ChaÑeral Bay, and heading this way,” returned the Chilian, breathlessly. “They are believed to be the Huascar and the corvette Union, and it looks as though they had been up to some mischief in there, for there is a big glare away to the south-east—there, you can see it for yourself!—which seems to point to their having set something on fire. But you mustn’t keep me now, my friend, for it is ‘all hands to quarters and prepare for action’; and, if it should prove to be as we believe, we shall have a tough fight to get clear of these two fellows.” And the gallant first lieutenant bustled away to carry out his orders.

Looking in the direction indicated by Montt, Jim could plainly see the dull, lurid glare of a large fire away to the south-east; and, outlined sharply against the glow, he could also make out, even from the level of the deck, a brig-rigged steamer, which could be none other than the Peruvian monitor; and she was accompanied by a large, three-masted, ship-rigged steamer which was undoubtedly the corvette Union. Whether the enemy had yet sighted the Covadonga was still doubtful, for the gunboat was close in under the high cliffs which formed the coastline at that point, and they would hardly be on the look-out for a vessel so near in to the land. But when they got nearer to her they could hardly help sighting her; and her only hope of ultimate escape was to avoid detection, if possible, until she was nearly abreast of the Peruvians, and then to make a running fight of it, trusting more to her heels than to her fighting powers to enable her to get away.

But the Covadonga could scarcely hope to avoid a fight of some sort; and her gallant skipper, Condell, was not at all the sort of man to wish to do so. He would at any time much rather stay and fight than run, even though hopelessly outmatched; but orders were orders, and he was wanted at Valparaiso, so for once he was forced to acknowledge discretion as the better part of valour.

At this moment, the “word” having been quietly passed, the men came tumbling up on deck, and Jim was obliged to abandon his survey of the Peruvians and attend to his duty of getting his own particular battery of guns ready for the coming encounter. In about ten minutes everything was prepared, and Montt, the first lieutenant, marched into the tiny conning-tower and reported to Condell, “Ship cleared for action, sir.” Jim was then free, for a short time at any rate, to turn his attention once more to the swiftly approaching steamers, which were travelling so fast as to give the impression that they feared pursuit.

“If,” mused Jim, “the Almirante Cochrane or some other of our ships are really after these fellows it will probably mean the saving of us, for the Huascar and the Union will in that case hardly dare to remain and fight against us.

“Ah!—” he continued, as he saw a rocket stream up into the air from the Huascar, “they have sighted us, that is clear, and we shall have to fight after all. Yes; here they come! They are both altering their course now, and heading directly for us. I was afraid we should not escape detection.”

The Peruvians, which had been heading off the land, had now turned slightly, and were pointing about north-north-west, directly for the spot where the Covadonga was creeping along under the land, and Jim could see the dull red glare above their funnels which showed that the stokers were coaling up vigorously.

Condell now shouted down the voice-tube to the engine-room, ordering the staff to let him have as much steam as the boilers would carry, and rang for full speed at the same time. The little gunboat began to quiver from stem to stern, from truck to keel, under the increased pulsations of the throbbing screw, while the curl of white water at her bows gradually crept higher and still higher up her stem as her speed increased, until she swept along at her best pace of about nine knots in the hour.

As she ran down the coast the Huascar and the Union both pointed their bows more and more shoreward, as if to cut off the gunboat; and it began to look very much as though there was no hope for the Covadonga, when suddenly another rocket, blue this time, soared up from the monitor, and she described a wide circle seaward once more, her consort following her example. Jim immediately guessed that Admiral Grau had, like a prudent man, had a leadsman at work on board his ship, and that the Peruvian skipper had suddenly found himself in danger of running aground through standing so close inshore.

The two hostile warships then eased down to half-speed, and kept on a course parallel with the shore, and at a distance of about a mile away from it. As the Covadonga herself was obliged, by reason of shoals and sunken reefs, to keep at a distance of quite half a mile from the beach, this left her an avenue of escape just about half a mile in width. But although the Huascar and the Union could not approach closer than eight or nine hundred yards from the gunboat, she would still have to run the gauntlet of their fire, and they could easily destroy her, by gun-fire alone, at six times that distance. There did not appear to be very much hope for the Covadonga, thought Jim, unless she could somehow manage to disable her antagonists—a very unlikely contingency, owing to the smallness of her guns, or unless a Chilian ship should happen to be in the neighbourhood and be attracted to the spot by the sound of the firing which was bound to open in a few minutes.

When the Covadonga had approached to within about a mile of the Peruvian ironclads, Jim saw the Huascar go about and heave-to, with her bows pointing to the south, while the Union came foaming along on her original course, which was parallel to that of the gunboat, and about half a mile distant from it to seaward.

“Aha!” thought he to himself, “so that is the manoeuvre, is it? Grau is going to get us between two fires if he can. As soon as the corvette is past us she too will swing round and attack us with her bow-guns while the Huascar rakes us with her stern weapons. It looks as though the Covadonga were in for a hot time!”

The young Englishman’s surmise soon proved correct; for directly the Union had passed out of the line of fire the Huascar opened with one of her turret 300-pounder guns. The first shell passed close ahead of the gunboat, but it was aimed much too high, and struck the cliffs on the Covadonga’s port beam, exploding with a brilliant flash of light and a roaring concussion that sent ton after ton of rock hurtling down into the sea. The corvette was now abreast of the Chilian ship, and as she drew level she let fly her whole broadside, consisting of one 100-pounder, one 70-pounder, and six 40-pounders, at the devoted gunboat.

The effect was as though a hurricane of fire and steel had broken loose aboard the Covadonga. Three of her smaller machine-guns, together with their crews, were blown to atoms, while her bulwarks were levelled with the decks in several places. The execution on board was terrible; and Jim had an exceedingly narrow escape, for at the moment when the Union fired he was just entering the little conning-tower with a communication for Captain Condell, and a 100-pounder shell struck full upon one of the Covadonga’s 70-pounder gun-shields, tearing a portion of it away. It then burst into a thousand fragments, one of which whizzed past Jim’s head and struck the conning-tower beside him with such force that the piece of metal weighing several pounds was firmly embedded in the soft steel of which the tower was constructed, while Jim was dazed with the shock and half blinded by the flying iron dust and grains of powder.

He managed to stagger inside the citadel just as the Huascar let fly with one of her 40-pounder guns, the shell from which struck full upon the very spot on the deck where he had been standing ten seconds previously, ripping a huge hole in the iron sheathing with which it was covered, and then exploding right over the engine-room hatch, which luckily was protected by a bomb-proof grating.

When Jim had at length cleared his eyes of dust and powder he delivered his message to the captain and was about to leave, but Condell requested him to remain, saying that he might want to make use of him. Montt was in the conning-tower, carrying out Condell’s orders as to the working of the engines, while the skipper himself watched carefully through the narrow observation-slit in the citadel, waiting for the moment when he might begin to open an effectual fire upon the enemy.

At length the moment arrived. The Covadonga had come up level with the Peruvian monitor, and the Union, being obliged to circle to seaward as she found herself in shoal water, was about three-quarters of a mile astern, although still firing incessantly. Condell gave one last look round and then shouted “Fire!” through the voice-tube which led to the gunboat’s little turret. Immediately there came a deafening roar and a tremendous concussion, as the two 70-pounders hurled forth their shells at the Huascar, and a dense cloud of white smoke drifted down upon the conning-tower, filling it with acrid fumes and momentarily blotting out the view.

When it cleared away it was seen that it had been a most lucky discharge, for one shell had struck full upon the monitor’s military mast, causing it to fall lengthwise along the ship, partly wrecking the funnel and a number of ventilators, while the other had apparently penetrated an open gun-port and thus reached some part of the ship’s boiler-room, for columns of steam were seen issuing from every available opening on the monitor’s midship section.

“Load again, men; load again!” cried Douglas, quite forgetting himself in the excitement of the moment.

“Another discharge like that, and we shall have the fellow completely crippled. Hurrah for the gallant little Covadonga!”

He was recalled to his senses by a short, sharp laugh from Condell, who remarked, with a grim smile: “Surely, SeÑor Douglas, you are not going to take away the command of my ship from me, are you?”

Jim, of course, promptly apologised, explaining that it was owing to the excitement that he had forgotten himself, but Condell told him to think no more of it, as it was the sort of spirit that he liked to see a young man display. There was little time for conversation, however, for the Huascar, as though in revenge for the damage inflicted by her puny enemy, again discharged her whole broadside—or at least so much of it as was still capable of being fired; and the marksmanship was so excellent that every missile again struck the Covadonga, while at the same moment the Union again started firing with her bow-guns, and a 100-pounder shell struck the gunboat full upon the stern, blowing a huge hole in it, killing four men, and shooting away the ensign-staff and flag.

When the smoke cleared away Douglas saw that their flag was gone, and at the same time heard the sound of cheering coming across the water from the Huascar—the Peruvians were under the impression that the gunboat had struck! But they were soon to be undeceived, for Jim rushed out of the conning-tower and down below, presently reappearing with another ensign under his arm. He then ran aft and proceeded to fix the spare staff, under a perfect hail of rifle-bullets from the monitor and corvette, and, having done so, ran up the flag amid cheers from the Covadonga. Then he went forward once more to his place in the conning-tower, which he reached just as Condell gave orders for the battery of 70-pounders to be fired again.

“Bravely done, gallantly done, my young friend,” said the skipper, as Jim made his appearance; “I won’t forget that action of yours if we come through all right.”

Both of the Covadonga’s shells at this moment burst on board the monitor, one of them blowing her short squat funnel clean over the side, while the other, by one of the strange happenings of war, entered her hull through the same gun-port as the previous shell, working still further havoc in the Huascar’s engine-room.

The gunboat had by this time drawn considerably ahead of the monitor, and Condell soon saw that the latter was too seriously crippled in her engines to pursue. Yet she still continued firing with deadly effect, and the Union was slowly but surely creeping up astern. The skipper therefore ordered his men to turn their whole attention to the corvette and try to disable her also, since they would soon be beyond the range of the Huascar’s guns. Every weapon was thereupon trained astern, and the accuracy of the little gunboat’s fire was soon apparent, for on board the corvette one of the forward 100-pounders was dismounted and silenced, several Nordenfeldts were damaged and put out of action, and a luckily placed solid shot struck the Union’s foremast full upon the cap, wrecking it and bringing the upper spars down, with disastrous effect to the men on deck below.

Indeed it began to look as though the plucky little ship would escape after all, for she was now beyond range of all but the Huascar’s heaviest guns, while the Union had been obliged to slacken speed considerably in order to enable her to get her wreckage cleared away. But Condell surmised that the Peruvians must have shrewdly guessed at his destination, and he knew that they would not give up the chase so long as there was a chance of getting him again under their guns. Moreover, he had still nearly three hundred and fifty miles to go before he could reach safety,—more than a day and a half’s steaming!

The Covadonga very soon ran the Huascar hull-down, and had left the corvette about five miles astern before the latter got the wreckage of her foremast cleared away and resumed her pursuit at full speed; but Condell had improved the shining hour by putting his own little ship to rights, and getting up more powder and shell in readiness for the renewed attack which he knew must come.

Day had just begun to dawn when the Union again opened fire, and her first shell unluckily cut the tiller-chains on board the gunboat, so that the Covadonga very nearly ran up on the beach before the chain could be repaired and the ship again got under control; indeed, Jim distinctly felt her keel scrape as she ran over a shoal which stretched out about half a mile into the sea. By the greatest good fortune, however, she got clear, and again resumed her attempt at escape. But the Peruvian ship had by this time lessened her distance to about two miles, and was firing so accurately that nearly every shot came aboard Condell’s little ship, which, however, still continued to reply pluckily, and with such precision that she did a considerable amount of damage to the Union.

Then suddenly it seemed as though the end had come, for a particularly well-aimed shell came hurtling into the Covadonga, close to her rudder-post, almost entirely destroying the rudder, and smashing one of the blades clean off the propeller. As a consequence, her speed immediately dropped to about five knots, and Condell ground his teeth with rage. If they could but have held out a little longer all might have been well, and he might have escaped into one of the shallow bays abounding on the coast where there was too little water for his heavily armed enemy to follow. He felt that it was cruelly hard. But the brave skipper was not yet beaten; far from it. He was determined to fight to the bitter end and, if need be, go down with his colours flying and guns firing, as did his friend and brother officer, Arturo Prat, on board the Huascar at the battle of Iquique Bay, in which he, Condell, also took part. Surrender? No; perish the thought!

“Two columns of smoke approaching from the southwest, sir,” suddenly reported Douglas, who had been attentively gazing southward through the slit in the conning-tower, “and we are raising them so fast that they must be steaming hard, whoever they may be. Is it possible, I wonder, that they are two of our ships brought up by the firing?”

“Where, SeÑor Douglas? Allow me to look!” ejaculated Condell excitedly. “By all that’s wonderful, if you are right it means that we are saved! Be so good as to bring me my glass, young man, as quickly as possible. Every moment is now very precious.”

Douglas was back in less than a minute, carrying the telescope, by the aid of which it was presently seen that the approaching steamers were undoubtedly warships; one of them having very much the appearance of the Magellanes, while the other, a corvette, might be either the O’Higgins or the Chacabuco.

Condell looked long at the approaching ships, and then turned to look at the Union. The Peruvian was fast coming up astern, and could not now be more than a mile away. She was still firing remorselessly into the gunboat, and apparently had not noticed the smoke columns.

“Now,” shouted Condell to his men, “there is the Union, and yonder are two of our ships coming up. We will stand and fight where we are, for we can no longer run; and we must endeavour to disable the Peruvian so effectually that she will fall an easy prey to the Chilian ships. When once we get to close grips we must keep her so busy that she will not have time to look round her until our friends are close aboard, when we will hand her over to their tender mercies! To quarters again, my brave hearts, and may God defend the right!”

A rousing cheer answered his words, and the men returned to their guns full of hope and with renewed energy. They opened such a furious fire upon the Peruvian that she fairly reeled under the impact of that storm of missiles. But she nevertheless came on, unchecked, and a few minutes later ranged up, broadside on to the Covadonga, at a distance of about seven hundred yards, when the action at once became close and fierce.

In less than a minute the Chilian gunboat had her mizzen-mast shot away close to the deck, her funnel riddled by machine-gun bullets, and every man not under cover killed. But the survivors sheltered themselves behind the gun-shields, and manfully replied with every weapon still capable of firing. The Union lost her captain and first lieutenant during the first few minutes of the renewed encounter, her mainmast came down by the board, having been struck, fair and square, by one of the Covadonga’s 70-pounder shells, and all her small boats were in a few minutes utterly destroyed by the storm of shot from the gunboat’s gatling-guns.

Then, suddenly, the Covadonga observed a wild commotion on board the Union, and her screw begin to revolve once more, while columns of black smoke pouring out of her shot-torn funnel showed that there was a considerable amount of activity in her engine-room. Then she began to forge ahead and, turning slowly to starboard, headed away to the north. She had caught sight of the approaching Chilian craft, and meant to effect her escape while the way still lay open to her.

Jim saw a man run aft and dip the Peruvian ensign three times in a mock farewell salute, while the white water began to boil out from under the Union’s stern. She was in full retreat, firing with her stern guns as she went. But Condell had no intention of permitting her to escape so easily. His ship would still steer, after a fashion, if she was not driven too hard, and he immediately took up a slow pursuit, hoping against hope that he might still be able to plump a lucky shell into her which should destroy either rudder or propeller, and so leave her at the mercy of the new arrivals, which were rapidly coming up, and which could now be plainly made out as being the Magellanes, gunboat, and the Chacabuco, corvette.

The Peruvian was going away fast enough, however, to take her soon out of range of the Covadonga. But the Magellanes and Chacabuco, as they rushed past the gunboat cheering, now began to fire at the flying ship, and several of their shells burst aboard her. As the Chacabuco passed she made the signal “Proceed forthwith to Valparaiso, and report that I am chasing to the northward. Good luck and congratulations.” The two ships swept rapidly away in chase of the Peruvian, and the Covadonga, obeying orders and resuming her voyage, made the best of her way to Valparaiso, which she reached the following evening, dropping her anchor in the middle of the assembled Chilian fleet, to the accompaniment of rousing cheers for her gallant conduct at Iquique Bay and Punto Gruesos.

Jim then bade good-bye to Captain Condell and returned to his own ship, the Blanco Encalada, where he was most enthusiastically received by all his friends, an especially warm welcome being extended to him by his chum Terry O’Meara.

Chapter Eight.

Mine and Countermine.

Jim found, upon rejoining the Blanco Encalada, that there was great excitement prevailing aboard that ship; for the fleet had received orders to sail, that very day, for the port of Arica, and the squadron was only waiting for Commodore Riveros, who had superseded Rebolledo Williams, to come aboard to start.

There were numerous rumours flying about the Blanco as to the object of the cruise northward; but the one which obtained most credence was to the effect that the Chilian fleet had been instructed to find and destroy the Huascar, Union, and Pilcomayo, which were waging a destructive war against the Chilian commerce, and which, it was very strongly suspected, had been guilty of certain acts against Chilian and other craft which more nearly resembled piracy than civilised warfare. So much damage, indeed, had been wrought by them that the Chilian Government had decided to hunt down the obnoxious craft; and for this purpose there were now assembled in Valparaiso harbour the Almirante Cochrane and Blanco Encalada, both battleships, the corvette O’Higgins, and the armed merchant-steamers Loa and Mathias Cousino. The little gunboat Covadonga had also been intended to sail with the squadron, but, as has been seen, she had been too badly damaged in her gallant fight with the Peruvian vessels to permit of her doing so.

Mid-day came, but it brought no sign of the commodore; and it was three o’clock in the afternoon before his launch was seen to steam away from the naval steps at the jetty. The side was then piped, and Riveros came on board, to the accompaniment of the flagship’s band and a crashing salute from the other vessels in the harbour. Upon his arrival on board he immediately went below to his cabin and sent for his captain, with whom he was in close conference for about an hour. Apparently he informed him as to the plan of campaign, for soon after Captain Castello came on deck it became known, all over the ship, that a telegram had been received from a Chilian spy in Arica to the effect that the Huascar and the Union were to call in at that port in about three days’ time, and that they would be detained there for about a week in order to effect certain repairs. Therefore, should the Chilians sail immediately, suggested the telegram, they would be almost certain to catch their prey without difficulty. It was also within the bounds of possibility that the Pilcomayo and Manco Capac might likewise be there; and in that case, since the opposing forces would be pretty evenly matched, there was every prospect of a general engagement being fought, a prospect which aroused the keenest enthusiasm of every man in the fleet, and more especially that of such young hot-bloods as Jim and his friend O’Meara, to say nothing of Lieutenant Montt, who was being transferred, to his great gratification, from the Covadonga to the Blanco Encalada.

A few minutes after Captain Castello had come on deck the bugles shrilled out, “Clear lower deck. Hands up anchor!” and the seamen came tumbling up from below, happy and eager as a parcel of schoolboys off for a holiday. A string of signal-flags soared aloft to the Blanco’s mainyard-arm, and half an hour later her screw began to revolve as she led the way out of the harbour, with the other ships following, in column of line ahead.

It was five o’clock in the afternoon of October 1, 1879, and the cruise had begun which was to prove so eventful for at least two of the ships comprising the squadron. As they passed out to sea with ever-increasing speed the forts on either side of the bay fired a farewell salute; and the spectacle of the sun sinking over Monte Bajo and the Centinela Alto, coupled with the lurid flashes of flame and clouds of white smoke from Forts San Antonio, Bueras, Valdivia, and the Citadel, constituted a picture the grandeur of which Jim never forgot.

A very careful look-out was maintained during the progress of the fleet up the coast, and Commodore Riveros took the precaution to look into ChaÑeral Bay, Cobija, and Iquique, to make quite sure that the Peruvians—who might possibly have got wind of the expedition—should have no chance of escaping by lying hidden until the Chilians were past, and then making a sudden dash southward upon the comparatively defenceless ports of the lower coast.

There was, however, no sign of the enemy anywhere in any of these places, and all the news that Riveros was able to pick up tended to confirm the telegram which he had received at Valparaiso, to the effect that the Peruvians would certainly be found at Arica. Having, therefore, made certain that they had left no enemy in their rear, the Chilians steamed away from Iquique on the 3rd of October, and arrived at a point ten miles to the south of Arica at three o’clock the next morning, where the fleet hove to, in order to allow of a council of war being held by the commodore and captains in the cabin of the Blanco Encalada.

The captains of the Cochrane and the O’Higgins were in favour of an attack by the whole squadron upon the Peruvian fleet supposed to be lying in the harbour, but the commodore, with the captains of the Loa and Mathias Cousino, opposed that plan, on the grounds that the harbour was very strongly defended by forts; consequently, if such an attack were carried out the Chilians would be obliged to silence the batteries before they could turn their attention to the Peruvian ironclads. The scheme favoured by Riveros, and which was ultimately carried out, was to send in a number of steam-launches from the ships, each armed with a couple of spar-torpedoes, and try to blow up the Peruvian ships. The commodore’s argument was that they would almost certainly be successful, if the attack were properly made; while, if it were to fail, the Peruvians would be certain to come out of port in pursuit of the torpedo-boats, and find themselves face to face with the Chilian fleet, and beyond the protection of the shore batteries.

This having been decided upon, the captains returned to their ships, and the squadron once more headed northward, at a speed of about five knots, finally coming to an anchor some four miles away from Arica, but completely hidden from it by the headland of Santa Catharina, which forms the southern extremity of the bay. The steam-launches of the Almirante Cochrane and the Blanco Encalada were then lowered into the water, together with a small Hereschoff torpedo-boat which the O’Higgins had brought up on her deck. These little craft all rendezvoused at the flagship, and spar-torpedoes were hastily fitted to all three, one projecting from the bow of each boat. As the expedition was likely to be an extremely hazardous one, Commodore Riveros decided to call for volunteers to man the torpedo-boats; and Jim Douglas and Jorge Montt were the first two officers who presented themselves for the service, while Terry O’Meara asked to be allowed to accompany his chum, should the latter be accepted, to take charge of the engines of the boat in which Jim was to go.

At length the commodore decided to send Jim in charge of the Blanco’s torpedo-boat, with Terry O’Meara in charge of the engines. Montt was to take command of the Cochrane’s launch; and a man named Juarez was given the command of the Hereschoff torpedo-boat, which was a craft of about sixteen tons displacement. Jim, as being second lieutenant of the flagship, was given the command of the little squadron; and, after half an hour’s interview with the commodore, during which he received the most minute instructions as to how he was to proceed, he went over the Blanco Encalada’s side into her steam-launch, and gave the signal to start.

There was no cheering at their departure, for all those who were left behind felt that they might never see their comrades again; moreover, it was necessary to maintain the strictest silence, since, the night being very still, sounds would carry to an immense distance over the water. If suspicion were once aroused on shore, it would mean the absolute annihilation of the brave fellows who had started on their desperate errand. The fleet, of course, showed no lights, and neither did the three torpedo—boats; consequently, within a minute after the latter had started the darkness swallowed them up completely, and there was no telling whereabout they were, or what progress they were making.

Jim had, however, most carefully taken his bearings before leaving the flagship, and, by the help of the chart and compass, knew exactly where to find the fleet again when his perilous mission had been accomplished. He steamed along northward over the three or four miles which separated him from Arica in extended column of line abreast, so that the chances of detection should be as much reduced as possible, and so that they could pick up any small craft which might perchance be cruising about in the neighbourhood; and he had already arranged a simple code of signals, whereby the three small steamers might communicate with one another without attracting undue attention to themselves.

Half an hour after pushing off from the Blanco Encalada, the flotilla came abreast of the southern extremity of Santa Catharina island, and Jim knew that in another five minutes he would obtain a full view of the harbour, when he would also know whether his intended prey lay in the roads or not. The heart of every man in the little flotilla beat fast, and his breath came thickly under the stress of the intense excitement of the moment; and Jim, from his position in the stern of the Blanco’s launch, tried to pierce the darkness with his eyes to get the first glimpse of the Peruvian vessels.

A moment later the three boats, closer together now, swept round the northern end of the island, and Arica roadstead lay in full view before them.

It was now the hour before the dawn, and consequently the night was at its darkest, but Jim could hardly repress a cry of delight as he caught sight of four indistinct, dark masses, looming up on the surface of the bay. There were no lights showing anywhere, save in one or two isolated houses on shore, where sickness probably kept the inmates awake; but he had not expected to find any lights showing among the Peruvian fleet, since they would naturally desire to keep their whereabouts hidden from chance Chilian prowlers. But in Jim’s mind there was no doubt that the four shapeless blurs lying close together, about half a mile away, were the vessels of which he had come in search; and he passed the word to the other launches to select each her own particular vessel, torpedo her, and then steam away back to the Chilian fleet. He himself intended to be responsible for two of the Peruvians, while his consorts were instructed to take one a-piece. No conditions, he thought to himself, could have been more favourable to the enterprise. So far as he could make out, no suspicion had been aroused that the Chilians were in the vicinity; the night was dark, and the town seemed to be asleep. In fact, their enemies appeared to be indulging in a feeling of security from which they would awake—too late!

The order was now passed for the launches to ease down to half-speed, so that the sound of the churning propellers might be less perceptible, and the three boats crept forward almost in complete silence upon their prey. Jim could now plainly make out the brig-rig of the monitor Huascar, and the three masts and single funnel of the corvette Union, and these two ships he intended to account for with his own torpedo-boat. Away to the right, close under the forts, and about four hundred yards from the Huascar, lay what looked like a couple of other monitors. He had quite expected, or at least hoped, to find one other monitor there, the Manco Capac, but not a third; for, according to the information received, the fourth ship should have been the Pilcomayo gunboat. But, no matter; it would be as easy to blow up an ironclad monitor as a gunboat; and Jim ordered each of the other two torpedo-boats to select one of the monitors lying under the forts, while he himself steamed toward the vessels which he took to be the Huascar and the Union.

After waiting about five minutes, to allow of the other two launches getting close to their objectives, Jim inquired in a low tone if all was in readiness; and upon being informed that everything was prepared, called in a whisper to Terry O’Meara, “Full speed ahead, and give her every ounce of steam she can carry!”

In response to this command the little steamer’s propeller suddenly started to revolve at a tremendous rate under the pressure of steam which Terry let into the cylinders; her stern dipped several inches deeper into the water, and with a rippling noise like that of tearing silk at her bows, she darted toward the nearest ship, which Douglas took to be the Huascar, and which could not have been more than five hundred yards away.

Nearer and nearer they rushed, the men in the bows craning their necks eagerly forward to see where the torpedo would strike, and Jim, in the stern, crouching over the tiller and holding his boat’s bows fair and square for the middle of his prey. It occurred to him, for a moment, as being rather curious that even now he could detect no signs of life aboard either of the Peruvian ships, for he had fully calculated on the launches being seen and an alarm raised ere he had approached so close. But no suspicion entered his mind, and he thanked his lucky stars that he had been fortunate enough to catch the enemy totally unprepared. It would make his task so much the easier.

Now the little steamer was quite close to the Peruvian monitor, and in a few seconds more the blow would be struck which would send a warship and her entire crew to the bottom. Oh, the fools! he thought to himself, not to take more care of their ship. They were doomed; nothing could now save them; success was within his grasp. Five seconds more—then three—then two. Now the spar with its deadly torpedo was almost touching the Huascar’s side—

Crash!

A rending sound of ripping and tearing timber and another awful crash came immediately afterward, and every man in the Blanco Encalada’s launch was hurled off his feet, and thrown either into the bottom of the boat or overboard, while the little steamer’s bows rose bodily out of the water until her keel reached an angle of almost forty-five degrees, and there she stuck, still quivering in every timber from the shock.

In a second Jim realised the terrible truth. By some means or other the Peruvians had got wind of the intended attack, and had placed a stout boom of timber all round the ship, and it was upon this obstacle that the Chilian launch had charged at full speed, running right up on to it with the force of the blow, and remaining there immovable and almost a wreck.

Jim’s first thought was of how to warn the people in the other two launches, for if the enemy had been prepared for attack in one quarter, he would certainly have taken the same precautions in the other. Ah, yes! There were several blue rockets in a locker in the stern-sheets; these would serve to show that something had gone wrong, and might perhaps save the others from a similar mishap.

Jim scrambled out of his seat and was just raising the locker lid when a long streak of flame burst from the Huascar’s side. There was a deafening, thudding roar, and a stream of machine-gun bullets screeched and hummed over their heads. They had indeed walked right into a cunningly contrived trap, and the Peruvians had been on the watch for them the whole time.

The next minute there was a dull roar away to starboard, and Jim saw, out of the corner of his eye, a huge column of water leap up, with something dark poised upon the top of it. In a second he realised that one at least of his consorts had been successful and had torpedoed her prey; but even before the column of water had subsided, there broke out a crash of musketry aboard the second monitor, and sparks of fire sprang up in different parts of her, which quickly brightened into a lurid glare and showed that her people were lighting beacon-fires, the better to see who their attackers might be and their whereabouts.

Truly it was the Chilians who had been taken by surprise, not their enemies! And what a mess they had made of it all, too!

But there was no time now to think about the other launches; they would have to look after themselves; for Jim’s whole energies were now directed toward the saving of his own boat’s crew. After the first volley of machine-gun fire from the ship which he had attacked, the Peruvians got their aim right, and sent a perfect hail of Gatling, Nordenfeldt, and rifle-bullets hurtling into the wrecked launch, so that her men began to fall in all directions. Beacon-fires were also lighted in bow and stern and at amidships, so that the vivid red glare shed a lurid radiance over everything within a hundred yards. And by their light Douglas saw that the ship which he had attacked was not the Huascar at all; neither was the craft lying close to her the Union! They were a pair of old hulks, roughly metamorphosed so as to resemble the warships, and heavy barriers of floating timber had been thrown out all round them, while they had been armed with machine-guns and crowds of riflemen. The monitor and the corvette had escaped out of Arica harbour to continue their depredations elsewhere, and the Pilcomayo had probably gone with them. The Chilians had walked into a cleverly set trap and were paying dearly for their mistake.

Jim quickly recovered his presence of mind, and springing out of the launch while the bullets whistled about his ears, started to examine the boat in order to ascertain whether she were still seaworthy. He soon discovered that although there were numerous holes in her planking, they were all above the water-line, as luck would have it, and although a long piece of her keel was gone, it had not started the boat’s timbers so far as he could see.

“Now, boys,” he shouted, “if we can get the launch back into the water we may escape after all. Who will lend me a hand?”

The men needed no second bidding, but sprang to their young leader’s assistance, and worked with all the energy of despair. Man after man fell under the deadly hail of fire from the hulk, but as fast as they fell others took their places, until at last, under their furious exertions, the little steamer began to quiver, and then moved slightly backward off the boom. There was an ominous cracking of timber for a few seconds, as some part of her splintered planking caught in the obstruction, and then, with a rending, tearing noise, it gave way, and the launch slid into the water of the bay, shipping a ton or two of it over her stern as she splashed in. But she was afloat once more, and could she only come unscathed through that inferno of bullets, the few remaining members of her crew might, even yet, hope to escape at last.

“Into the boat with you,” cried Jim; “into the boat, all but four men. You, Terry, get to your engines, and give me all the steam you can, while the others bale the boat clear of all that water. Now, you four men,” he went on, “I am going to ask you to help me in a very dangerous task. I am not going to leave this ship with my duty unfinished. I intend to torpedo her, at all hazards! Cut loose that spar at once, and we will place it along the boom in such a way that the torpedo touches this ship’s side. I will then cut a short length of fuse, and attach it to the explosive, so that it will burn for about a minute. That will just give us time to get out of reach before the powder blows up, and will not leave the Peruvians sufficient to displace the torpedo. Now then, grapple hold of the spar, you four men, and stand by to push all together when I give the word. Be ready, Terry, my boy, to go ahead with your engines directly we scramble on board, for a second’s delay may mean that we shall all be blown to smithereens. Give me that piece of fuse, Carlos. There, that has fixed that up,” continued Douglas, as he cut and placed the slow match in the opening provided for it. “Now then, all together—lift!”

As Jim gave the word the men gripped the spar, lifted it, and pushed it forward until the pointed barrel-like apparatus at its further extremity touched the ship’s side. The Peruvians up above were by this time aware of what the Chilians contemplated, and turned all their attention to the men engaged upon the dangerous task of fixing the spar, thus giving those in the launch a welcome respite.

But owing to the hulk’s high bulwarks and her great amount of “sheer,” they could not fire directly into Jim’s party, and the bullets plugged harmlessly into the boom about a yard behind the Chilians. Jim then ordered the men to place all their weight upon the spar, and this having been done, he clambered nimbly along it until he came to the torpedo. Then he rearranged the fuse, struck a match and applied it.

There immediately began a violent splutter of sparks, accompanied by a fizzing noise, and Jim knew that no power on earth could now avert the imminent explosion. Like a cat he worked his way backwards along the spar, which bent and heaved under his weight, until presently he stood once more upon the beam.

“Now, there’s no time to waste,” gasped Douglas, as the five men stood in the shelter of the hulk’s tall sides. “We must make a rush all together, and trust to getting aboard the launch unhit. But if any of us are wounded, the wounded must remain where they are; for any attempt at rescue will mean the death of us all. Now then—go!”

As one man the five brave fellows sprang forward, hoping to reach the launch before the Peruvians were ready for them. But the latter were on the look-out, and as the men left their shelter, rifles and machine-guns cracked and roared once more. Two men fell, literally riddled with shot, but the others scrambled aboard the launch, and Jim gasped out, “Go ahead, Terry!” not a moment too soon.

The launch had not got more than fifty yards away when there was an appalling explosion, and the whole side of the hulk seemed to fall bodily inward. She heeled over, and almost instantly plunged into the depths of the bay, the waters of which at once closed over her, dragging down the living and the dead, in the fearful vortex which she created.

Jim then sent up a blue rocket to call the other boats away, for it was hopeless to attempt anything farther that night, and half an hour later he was rejoined, just as day was dawning, by the Almirante Cochrane launch, which was almost in a worse state than his own. She brought word that the two monitors had been the Manco Capac and Atahualpa, and that the Hereschoff torpedo-boat, under Juarez, had blown up the latter, but had herself been destroyed by the Manco Capac. Three men only had been rescued from her crew, and these were on board the Cochrane’s boat, which had herself lost nearly three-quarters of her men. Taking it all round, however, the attacking force had not done so badly, having destroyed a two thousand-ton ironclad and sunk a hulk full of men and guns, with a loss of one small torpedo-boat, and seventeen men killed.

Jim then gave orders for the wounded to be made as comfortable as possible under the circumstances, and the two launches continued their journey back to the fleet, which was reached about eight o’clock. The young man immediately made his report to the commodore, and the latter, who seemed to have no mind of his own, then called another council of officers to decide whether they should enter the bay and destroy the Manco Capac and the forts, or whether they should take up the pursuit of the other three Peruvian warships which had eluded them in so mysterious a way.

It was unanimously decided to pursue, so as to prevent them from doing any further damage; and Riveros therefore divided his squadron into two parts, consisting of the Almirante Cochrane and Blanco Encalada in one division; and the O’Higgins, Loa, and Mathias Cousino in the other. One column, consisting of the three latter vessels, was to steam a hundred miles due westward, and then head south, while the admiral would proceed in the same direction, but would keep close in along the coast.

These arrangements having been made, the captains returned to their respective ships, the anchors were raised, and the fleet separated into two divisions—one going south direct, and the other going west in the first instance.

Chapter Ten.

The Gun-Runners.

The ovation accorded to the victorious Chilians upon their return to Valparaiso was enthusiastic in the extreme; the officers were everywhere fÊted and made much of; and Jim Douglas and Terry O’Meara came in for a very large share of attention owing to the fact that they were British. The sympathies of Great Britain had been decidedly turned in favour of Chili by the atrocities which had been committed by the Peruvian fleet in its war against commerce, and by which English ships had suffered to a very serious extent.

After the battle of Angamos Commodore—or rather Admiral as he was now—Riveros had been greatly exercised in his mind as to what course he should pursue with regard to the corvette Union. She had effected her escape before the battle commenced, and when last seen was steaming in the direction of Arica, the most southerly port which the Peruvians possessed. She was a very heavily armed ship, and was nearly, if not quite, as formidable as the Huascar had been, and thus still constituted a standing menace to the unfortified ports of Chili. Riveros was in a quandary, for he already had more work on his hands than he knew how to deal with; yet the Chilians resident in the coast ports were clamouring for him to proceed to sea again and hunt down the cruiser. But he did not in the least know where to look for her; nor could he, by the most diligent inquiry, gain any intelligence of her. She might be at any one of the numerous Peruvian ports; and were he to go in search of her she would quite probably slip past him again in the night, as she and the monitor had once before done.

The fleet had been lying at Valparaiso for nearly a month undergoing the repairs and refit of which they so sorely stood in need, when one morning Jim, from his station on the Blanco Encalada’s bridge, where he was on duty, observed a signal flying from the official residence of the Secretary for War. In a moment he had his glass to his eye, and began to spell out the signal, which, when completed, ran as follows: “Blanco Encalada. Admiral Riveros to call here without delay. I have important orders for him.”

“Hallo!” thought Jim, “what’s in the wind now? More work for somebody, I’ll be bound. I wonder whether the Union has been up to any fresh tricks? She has kept remarkably—suspiciously—quiet for some time now.”

Then the young man made his way down to the admiral’s cabin and delivered the message, with the result that the admiral’s barge was piped away, and five minutes later Riveros was being pulled across the sparkling blue waters of the bay, to learn what it was that SeÑor Baquedano wanted to communicate to him.

Several hours elapsed before the gallant Chilian returned aboard, and when he finally did so his first action was to send for Jim Douglas and request him to accompany him to his cabin. Arrived there, the admiral closed the door, locked it, and then leaning across the table toward Douglas, remarked in a low tone:

“SeÑor Douglas, I am paying you no empty compliment, when I say that I consider you a remarkably efficient and promising young officer. You have carried out, with the utmost credit to yourself, several exceedingly difficult pieces of work, and for that reason I am going to detail you for a service which I suspect will prove even more difficult than any which you have yet been called upon to perform.”

Jim bowed, and did his best not to look too pleased.

“As you, of course, are aware,” continued the admiral, smiling, “we lost sight of the Union corvette before the battle of Angamos, and as we had more important business on hand at the moment, we were not able to pursue her; consequently she got clear away. The Chilians in the coast towns have for some time been living in mortal dread of her appearing, some fine day, off one or another of their ports, and bombarding it; and for some weeks past I have been daily expecting orders to sail in pursuit of her and to hunt her down. We have, however, until to-day had no definite news of her whereabouts upon which we could work. But this afternoon I was summoned ashore and informed by his Excellency, General Baquedano, that the Peruvians are expecting several cargoes of arms from Europe, and he has been informed by one of our spies that the Union has been dispatched to the mouth of the Straits of Magellan to convoy those vessels to Callao, or whatever Peruvian port they are bound for. If, then, we dispatch a vessel down to the Straits we are almost certain to fall in with the corvette and bring her to action; and if we are lucky we may also secure the arms-carrying vessels. That would of course be in itself a service of inestimable value to our government, since if our enemies cannot obtain arms and ammunition they will soon be obliged to give up the struggle. To make a long story short, you, SeÑor Douglas, are the man whom I have selected to perform this difficult, arduous, and decidedly dangerous task. We have recently purchased a steamer, which we have armed so powerfully that she is to all intents and purposes a cruiser, and you will be given the command of her. Your task is, as I have just explained, to hunt down and destroy the Union, and if possible to capture the gun-running steamers which she has been sent to convoy. This new cruiser of ours has been named the Angamos, in honour of our recent victory; and I shall look confidently to you to uphold the honour of her name. She is quite ready to sail, and you must commission her to-morrow, and sail the same day. It is a very important service for so young a man as yourself, but from what I have already seen of you I am confident of your ability to bring your task to a successful termination. That is all, I think, that I have to say to you, SeÑor Douglas, except that, should you wish to do so, you have my permission to number your friend, the young engineer, among your crew. Now, good day, young sir, and the best of good luck to you.”

Jim saluted in silence, feeling rather at a loss to know what to say by way of thanks, and marched out of the cabin, “as proud as a dog with two tails.” He had never anticipated anything like this when he entered the Chilian service, and the news seemed almost too good to be true. Yet he speedily pulled himself together and hurried off to find his friend O’Meara, whom he came across in his cabin, smoking, and to whom he promptly imparted the joyful news. And half an hour later the two lads had packed up their slender stock of baggage and were quite ready for their new adventure. Bearing in mind the admiral’s order that he should lose no time in getting his new command ready for sea Jim, accompanied by his chum, went the rounds of the flagship, saying good-bye to their numerous friends, who betrayed no little curiosity as to the reason of the Englishmen’s somewhat sudden departure. But Jim thought it best to keep his own counsel, and only enlightened the Chilians so far as to say that his friend and he had been selected for a special service, the nature of which he was not at liberty to disclose.

A shore-boat was then signalled for, and upon her arrival alongside the two lads got into her and had themselves and their baggage conveyed ashore, where they chartered another boat in which they were rowed out to the Angamos. The object of the double journey was to keep, as far as possible, their movements secret.

Having arrived on board, Jim found that everything was in readiness for a start, except for the fact that certain stores had not yet come off from the shore. He mustered his crew aft, however, and proceeded to read his commission to them. His appointment to the command was received with cheers of delight, for the crew was made up, for the most part, of men drafted from the other ships of the squadron, consequently they either knew Jim personally or had heard something of his exploits. They therefore knew what sort of commander they were sailing under, and looked forward to a lively and adventurous cruise. Douglas then sent the purser and a few men ashore to hurry up the belated stores; and by midnight everything and everybody was on board—and the ship ready. But remembering Admiral Riveros’ orders as to sailing on the morrow, he waited until daybreak, and then signalled that everything was in readiness for his departure, and inquired whether it was the admiral’s pleasure that he should sail at once. The answer promptly came back that the sooner he sailed the better; and Jim, ordering the saluting guns to be manned and loaded, made his way with a proud step to the navigating bridge, and rang his engines to half-speed ahead, the anchor having already been got up.

There was a responsive tinkle from the bridge-telegraph, at which the young commander smiled, for he recognised, in the long-continued response, the hand of Mr Terence O’Meara. A slight tremor thrilled through the hull as the screw began to revolve, and the shipping in the harbour drifted slowly astern as the fine 1180-ton cruiser gathered way and threaded her path out of the anchorage. Then, as she passed the Blanco Encalada, the guns roared out their salute, and a tempest of cheers burst out on board the flagship as her crew recognised who it was that was standing on the cruiser’s bridge; and Jim could see the glances of astonishment and the questioning looks writ large upon the faces of his recent companions. But the Angamos was past the flagship in about half a minute, and Jim then put his engines at full speed. The cruiser, which had only very recently been built, was capable of steaming at the rate of fourteen knots, consequently she was at least two knots faster than the Union, the ship she was being sent to hunt down. She very soon covered the length of the harbour and vanished from the sight of the fleet beyond Punta Angeles.

Although from the information in Jim’s possession it was to be supposed that the Union was by this time several days’ steam ahead of him, it was yet by no means certain where she really was; and it was quite within the bounds of possibility that they might sight her at any moment. Douglas therefore took the precaution to have a man in the fore-topmast crosstrees, with instructions to keep his eyes wide open, and to report any three-masted, one-funnelled steamer that might happen to put in an appearance. A fresh man was sent aloft every two hours, since the weather was hot, and it was distinctly irksome to be obliged to remain aloft, exposed to the full glare of the sun for any length of time; moreover, Jim kept a man at the masthead day and night. There was therefore absolutely no chance of the Union being missed should she come within twenty miles from the Angamos, for a man with a powerful telescope would be able to cover at least that distance from the cruiser’s fore-topmast head.

But despite the strict look-out maintained aboard the Angamos, the days passed without any sign of the Union making her appearance. The gun-running vessels Jim did not expect to meet until several days after his arrival off the Straits of Magellan; but he could not quite understand not having yet sighted the Peruvian corvette. Past Concepcion they swept, on the afternoon of the second day out from Valparaiso; then past Valdivia, and still there was no sign of the enemy; then Childe Island was dropped astern, and on the fifth day out at about two o’clock in the afternoon Cape Pillar, at the north end of Desolation Island and the entrance to the Straits, was sighted, but the sea was still bare of the ship of which they had come in search.

Still, as Jim remembered, the Union was a very fast boat, only two knots slower than the Angamos herself, and he thought it not improbable that she might be found lurking somewhere among the numerous islands which make the navigation of Magellan Straits so difficult and dangerous. The young skipper therefore took his cruiser into every little creek and inlet that he came to, in the hope of finding his quarry there; or, if the water was too shoal, sent away boat expeditions to explore. But still there was no sign of the Union, and a week after leaving Valparaiso the Angamos dropped her anchor off Punta Arenas, and Jim went ashore to interview the governor of that port, in the forlorn hope that he might have seen the Peruvian pass, or have heard something of her whereabouts.

Then Douglas received a surprise which he little expected. He found SeÑor Morales, the Governor, in a state of great perturbation. That worthy man had a body of only forty men under his command to garrison the place; and he gave Jim the astonishing news that the Union, with brazen effrontery, had called in at Punta Arenas that very morning, and that her skipper, taking an armed force ashore with him, had seized Morales, and placed the town under contribution for a supply of coal and a quantity of provisions which he needed.

There was no resisting him, averred the unhappy governor, for the Peruvians numbered quite eighty men and were all fully armed, while the corvette’s guns were trained on the town, so that, in the event of resistance being offered, she could have brought the place about their ears.

To make a long story short, said the governor, the Union had coaled and taken in a supply of provisions—neither of which had been paid for, by the way—and had steamed off down the Straits to the eastward not three hours before the Chilian cruiser had hove in sight. He was quite sure that el SeÑor Capitan would catch the scoundrel if he sailed at once. And, moreover, the carnicero had had the audacity to boast that he was going to convoy two cargoes of arms, which were coming from Europe, back to Peru; that he should return through the Straits; and that he should knock the town to pieces as he went past, as payment for the articles that he had received.

Jim ground his teeth with anger upon hearing the recital of this insolence, and he vowed that, could he but find the Union, he would make Captain Villavicencio eat his words. But unfortunately the Angamos was herself short of coal and fresh water, and several hours—very precious hours—were spent in getting these necessaries on board; so that it was already dark before Douglas finally got away, having promised the Governor that he would do all in his power to prevent the Peruvian from carrying out his threat. But the Union was by this time a good many miles ahead, and the navigation of the tortuous and intricate channel, with its furious currents, was not a thing to be undertaken at any great speed at night. Consequently Douglas was obliged to crawl slowly along at about five knots an hour, with two leadsmen in the fore chains, at the very time when he wanted to be steaming fourteen; and he feared that the Union would have got such a lengthy start, while daylight lasted, that it would be a very difficult matter indeed to overhaul her. But there was just one hope for him; he reflected that she would almost certainly wait at the eastern entrance of the Straits for her convoy, and, if she were there, he would find her, and bring her to action.

The moment that daylight dawned, Jim, whose nerves were by this time torn to fiddle-strings by frequent necessary stoppages during the night, put his vessel at full speed again, and, still with two leadsmen sounding the whole time, the Angamos swept along the narrow waters, finally emerging at the Argentine end of the Straits. A fresh disappointment was, however, in store for the young Englishman; for still there was no sign of the corvette; and now he did not in the least know in what direction to look for her. Finally, after cruising to and fro off the entrance for some hours, in the hope of sighting the chase, he determined to reach over toward the Falkland Islands, in the hope that the Union might have gone there to meet the convoy.

The Angamos had, by about midnight on the next night, traversed close upon half the distance to the Islands, and Jim was almost beginning to despair of ever catching the elusive corvette, when a hail came down from one of the men who were still stationed at the masthead: “Light ahead! bearing about a point on our port bow!”

Douglas’s heart jumped. Here, surely, must be the craft of which he was in search. He had to wait a few seconds to control his excitement, and then he replied: “How far distant is the light, and what does it look like?”

“It’s about eight miles distant,” replied the seaman, “and looks like the light at a ship’s masthead; but I can now see two red lights, one over the other, arranged just below the white one; and I should say that the three of them, shown together as they are, mean a signal of some sort; for I can see neither port nor starboard lights showing in their usual places.”

“Aha!” thought Jim, “this is not so bad, after all; this approaching craft can hardly be our friend the Union, I should think; it is more likely that she will prove to be one of the gun-running steamers, and if so—well, her career as a gun-runner will close somewhat abruptly, I think.—Masthead ahoy, what is it now?” he continued aloud, as the seaman aloft gave an excited yell, which he immediately suppressed.

“Why, sir,” the fellow answered, “I have just sighted a second set of lights, almost dead astern of the first lot; we have just this moment opened them. There are certainly two steamers approaching, sir; and—ah! one of them has just sent up a rocket—I expect it is because she has sighted us.”

“Then, by jingo!” soliloquised the Englishman, “they will be the gun-runners, and no mistake about it. How I wish I knew what lights it has been arranged for the Union to show as a signal to them. However, I don’t; so that cannot be helped.” Aloud, he went on, addressing the excited Chilian at the masthead, “Keep your eye on those ships, Pedro; and report any change to me at once.”

“Ay, ay, sir!” replied the man, “they are still coming this way.” Then Jim called up his lieutenant, a young fellow named Manuel, and instructed him to get the ship immediately cleared for action, and to douse every single one of the lights on board at once. He then went back to the bridge, and, as soon as every light on board had been extinguished, ordered the quartermaster at the wheel to turn the ship’s head eight points to starboard; thus, a few minutes later, the Angamos was running at full speed, on a course at right angles to her previous one, and was leaving the gun-runners on her port quarter.

Douglas still continued to watch their lights intently, and soon perceived that his failure to give them a signal of some sort had occasioned quick suspicion to their skippers, for they gradually slowed up; and presently the lights drew close together, by which Jim could guess that the steamers had run alongside each other to permit of a conference between the two captains.

A few minutes later Jim turned the Angamos eight points to port, bringing her back to her old course, but at a distance of about four miles from the supposed gun-runners. He held on in this direction until he was well astern of them, and then circled right round and headed straight after them, immediately in their wake, at full speed. After a pause of about a quarter of an hour the Peruvian skippers again went ahead on their old course, doubtless much perturbed in their minds at the sudden and extraordinary disappearance of the craft which, a short time before, had seemed to be coming directly toward them. And so simple were they that they did not suspect Jim’s subsequent move, but went straight ahead, keeping all their lights burning as before; thus he was able to keep them in full view, although they could not see him. Probably it never occurred to either of them to cast a single glance astern!

Jim had reckoned on the suspected steamers being slower than his own cruiser, and he soon saw that he was steaming about three knots to their two, and overhauling them fast. The lieutenant had some time ago reported the ship as cleared for action; and the look-out aloft stated that there was no other sail in sight; consequently, Jim reckoned on bringing the enemy to book in about half an hour’s time, and dealing summarily with him before the Union could complicate matters by putting in an appearance; a prospect which caused him no little satisfaction, as he felt that he might have had all his work cut out to deal effectively with the three, had the corvette been opposed to him at the same time.

The Angamos, vibrating from stem to stern under the rapid revolutions of her screw, plunged along through the black night, while, three miles ahead, the guiding-lights shone out clearer and clearer every moment. Half an hour passed and the cruiser was very, very near; so near, indeed, that Jim could plainly hear the throbbing of the gun-runner’s machinery; and they must also have caught the sound of his, for he suddenly saw another rocket rush up into the still night air, and directly afterwards a red glow began to hover over the tops of their funnels, showing that they were trying to increase their speed by coaling up furiously.

But it was of no use. The gun-runners only gained a very few minutes’ grace. The Angamos was much too fast a ship for them; and a few minutes later she ranged up on the starboard side of the sternmost steamer, while Jim, seizing a speaking-trumpet, hailed at the top of his voice: “What ship is that? Heave-to! I wish to speak to you!”

Chapter Eleven.

Captain Villavicencio catches a Tartar.

For the space of quite half a minute there was no reply; and then, in response to Jim’s repeated summons, both steamers, as if by previous arrangement, began to send blue rockets flying into the air; while both set up a most unearthly shrieking on their steam-whistles. They had by this time recognised that the suspicious stranger was not the Union; but, knowing that she must be somewhere in the vicinity, they determined to attract her attention by some means or other, should she be anywhere within sight or hearing.

But Jim smiled grimly to himself as he saw and heard their despairing efforts, for he had kept a man at the masthead for the express purpose of ascertaining whether the Peruvian corvette was anywhere in the vicinity, and the last report, received less than five minutes before, assured him that she was nowhere to be seen.

He waited patiently, therefore, until the discordant blasts on the sirens had ceased, and then hailed again for the skipper to heave-to, vowing that he would fire into him if he did not do so. The young Englishman had imagined that he saw, by the light of the rockets, a number of men scampering about the decks, but he concluded that it was merely the effect of terror and astonishment, and he was totally unprepared for the gun-runner’s next move. The fellow had, when he saw that there was no hope of escape, hastily prepared his ship for action; and the last words were hardly out of Jim’s mouth when a perfect storm of machine-gun fire broke out aboard the flying steamer, and the bullets whistled round Douglas like hail, killing the quartermaster at the wheel, and several other seamen who were not under shelter.

The cruiser immediately yawed wildly, and in another minute would have crashed into the gun-runner, probably sending both craft to the bottom, had not Jim seized the wheel, as it spun out of the dead man’s fingers, and brought the Angamos back to her course just in the nick of time. At the same moment he saw the leading steamer circle round in a wide curve and head directly for him, evidently with the idea of helping her consort in the fight against the Chilian.

There was no time for any more palaver, thought Jim; the fellows meant to fight, and to disable him if they could, and he must be ready for them. In a voice hoarse with anger at the useless slaughter of five of his men, he gave the order to fire; and immediately the guns of the Angamos began to speak.

She was armed with several Gatling and Nordenfeldt guns, three 12-pounder breech-loaders, six 3-pounders, and one 8-inch breech-loading Armstrong gun, throwing a projectile weighing 170 pounds, which was mounted forward; and, immediately upon Jim’s command her whole broadside crashed out, raking the foolhardy steamer from end to end, and making her fairly reel under the impact of the iron shower. Away forward, Manuel, the first lieutenant, had observed the approach of the second steamer; and he now laid the big 8-inch gun directly for her bows, firing when she had approached to within about four hundred yards of the cruiser. The gun’s deep roar rang out loud above the din of the smaller weapons, and a brilliant flash of white light leaped out on board the steamer, the missile blowing a huge hole in her starboard bow, and setting her on fire forward; as was seen by the blaze which at once sprang up on board her.

At the same time the Angamos passed ahead of the first steamer, which, by the light of the beacon-fires now lighted aboard all three vessels, was seen to be named the Miraflores; and, running alongside the second, the Huemul, she delivered every gun of her starboard broadside, bringing down the steel foremast, riddling the funnel with rifle and machine-gun bullets, and killing every man on deck who was not under cover. At the same time a 12-pounder shell, which struck a heap of ammunition which had been placed on the Huemul’s deck to feed a 32-pounder breech-loader, blew up the whole lot, killing the unfortunate gun’s crew, and lifting the gun itself bodily over the side into the sea. The Angamos then slowed down a little, and a few seconds later the Miraflores overtook her and discharged every available gun into the cruiser, killing several more men, and dismounting one 32-pounder and two 3-pounder quick-firing guns.

But the cruiser’s people had meanwhile again loaded their guns on the port broadside, and were not slow in avenging the death of their comrades. They did not require the stimulus which Jim sought to impart to them, by urging them in his excitement to “slap it into the beggars!” for they worked their guns like demons, and, notwithstanding their rage and fury, made such excellent practice that the Miraflores began to look more and more like a wreck every minute. At last, in desperation, her captain actually tried to run his ship aboard the Angamos, with the idea of boarding her; but the cruiser was several knots faster than the gun-runner, and Jim, perceiving the fellow’s intention, turned the Angamos to starboard and so avoided the collision, at the same time pouring in another broadside with all his undamaged guns.

Instantly there arose a dense cloud of steam on board the Miraflores, accompanied by a loud hissing noise; her speed suddenly slackened; and Douglas knew that one of the cruiser’s shells had penetrated a boiler; and he shuddered in spite of himself at the thought of the scene which was now probably enacting down in the gun-runner’s engine-room. But, just as he was looking at the stricken ship through his glass, to see whether she had surrendered, he was deafened and well-nigh stunned by an appalling explosion which came from somewhere astern of the Angamos; and pieces of wood and iron, fragments of charred human bodies, exploding cartridges, and wreckage of all descriptions began to hurtle round his ears; while, from the shelter of the chart-house, to which he precipitately retreated, he saw an enormous column of black smoke hanging over the place near which he had last seen the Huemul; and he had little difficulty in accounting to himself for the disaster.

The steamer had been set on fire forward by one of the cruiser’s shells, which had exploded a quantity of ammunition on her deck; and this fire rapidly spreading, had communicated itself to some of the powder and cartridges which formed the greater part of her cargo. This had forthwith exploded, and, in its turn, blown up the remainder, causing a most terrible catastrophe; for, when the smoke of the explosion cleared away, there was not a trace of the Huemul left upon the surface of the water. She and her gallant crew had been blown, literally, to atoms.

Appalled by the suddenness and extent of the disaster, both the Miraflores and the Angamos ceased firing for several minutes; and, by the light of the fires which were still burning on board both vessels, Jim could see the gun-runner’s crew dashing wildly about, as though in the last extremity of terror, while the ship herself was almost shrouded from view by the dense clouds of steam, coloured ruddy yellow in the light of the braziers, which still gushed in volumes from her pierced boilers.

The cruiser’s men quickly recovered their equanimity, however; and, running to their guns, poured in another broadside upon the demoralised crew of the Miraflores. This was more, apparently, than flesh and blood could endure; for Douglas saw several men immediately rush upon the captain, who was still inciting them to continue the fight, and cut the unfortunate man down. The crew then rushed aft in a body, hauled down the Peruvian flag, under which both ships had been sailing, hailed at the same time that they surrendered, and begged for quarter. The men frantically waved handkerchiefs, towels, in fact anything white that they could lay their hands upon, to emphasise the fact that they had struck.

“I detest being obliged to give quarter to mutineers,” said Douglas to his young first lieutenant; “and these fellows undoubtedly are such, for they murdered their captain, and surrendered against his wishes; but I must accept their surrender, I suppose, as it would simply be murder to continue firing into them now; they are all half crazy with fright. Have the port and starboard quarter-boats manned and lowered, SeÑor Manuel, if you please, and bring off the crew of that ship; but take the precaution of first putting them all in irons. After you have transferred them to the Angamos I will put a prize-crew aboard, under your command; and you shall keep me company until we return to Valparaiso. I have a little plan at the back of my mind which I hope to be able to put into execution and I will tell you what it is before you finally go aboard the Miraflores. Now, be as quick as you can, for there has been a good deal of firing during this action, and the Union may put in an appearance at any moment; and I do not wish to see her—just yet.”

Manuel saluted, and ran away aft to give orders about the boats, and, five minutes later, they were being pulled across the water toward the now motionless gun-runner. Jim saw Manuel climb up her tall sides; and then he went into his chart-house to await the lieutenant’s return, and to think out the details of the plan about which he had spoken to Manuel. However, he first sent a man into the fore-topmast crosstrees, and one into the main, with orders to keep a bright look-out for the appearance of the Peruvian corvette.

Some two hours later Manuel returned, bringing with him the whole of the Peruvian ship’s crew, most of whom consisted of ne’er-do-wells of almost every nationality under the sun: and a choice-looking lot of rascals they were. Jim wisely refused to accept the parole of any of them, placed them, still in irons, in the cruiser’s punishment cells, and took the precaution to post a strong guard over them. He then received the report of his lieutenant, which was to the effect that the damage on board the Miraflores was, with the exception of the shell in her boiler-room, mostly superficial, and could soon be repaired by the prize-crew. Several of her guns had been badly damaged; but the young man suggested that they could be replaced, together with the damaged weapons belonging to the Angamos, from the gun-runner’s cargo, which consisted, in part, of a number of similar pieces.

Jim carefully digested the report, and then unfolded his latest plan to Manuel, which was to the effect that the Miraflores, with a prize-crew aboard, and the Angamos, should impersonate the two Peruvian gun-runners expected by the Union; and that they should hoist the enemy’s flag and go in search of him; thus getting close enough to bring the elusive corvette to action. The lieutenant was therefore ordered to get aboard at once, with his prize-crew, execute the necessary repairs, re-arm the ship out of the cargo she carried, and, as the boiler was too badly damaged to admit of repair at sea, to cut off steam from it altogether, and fire up under the remaining three, which could, even then, give the Miraflores a speed of about nine knots.

Manuel accordingly selected his crew, and again went aboard the gun-runner; where he and his men worked with such a will that by mid-day the repairs were complete enough to allow of a start being made. The remaining repairs were of such a nature that it was possible to execute them while the ship was under way. Steam was then raised in the three sound boilers, and, the water being quite smooth, the Miraflores was brought alongside the cruiser, which then replaced her damaged guns, and hoisted fresh ones out of the gun-runner’s hold with her own derricks.

At length, by five o’clock in the afternoon of the day after the battle, both ships were in a condition to proceed; and, much to Jim’s satisfaction, there had been no sign of the Union to disturb them. They were now ready to go in search of her; and, with two well-armed ships under his command, Douglas swore that he would pay Captain Villavicencio in full for all the injury that he had done in the past to Chilian commerce. The Peruvian flag was then hoisted aboard both ships, and each also arranged three lanterns upon her foremast, for use after dark, in the same manner as they had been previously arranged, as a signal, on board the gun-runners. Before starting Jim also questioned the captured crew as to what they knew of the plans of their skipper, and where he had expected to meet the Union. The men refused information at first, but, upon being told that they would be kept upon half-rations until they chose to speak, they said that they had expected to meet the corvette almost midway between the Falkland Islands and Cape Virzins, at the eastern mouth of the Straits; also that both captains had mistaken the Angamos for the Union when they first sighted her. Jim could not understand how it was that in that case there were no signs of the corvette, but he determined not to leave the locality until he had found her and brought her to action.

With the Miraflores steaming along in his wake, in the same formation as that adopted by the gun-running steamers, Jim started off on his search for the Union, heading west-south-west for the mouth of the Straits of Magellan, with a man at either masthead of each of the two vessels, and a prize of fifty pÉsos to the seaman who should first sight her. He did not feel altogether happy at the idea of sailing under the Peruvian flag and adopting such a ruse, even for a short period; but his orders to capture or sink the Union were precise and imperative, and he considered that, in this case at least, the end justified the means employed, for he knew that he would never succeed in getting alongside the corvette if her captain were once allowed to entertain the slightest suspicion that the two ships were Chilians. True, the Angamos was a faster ship; but the Union drew far less water; and, since she would probably be found—if found at all—somewhere among the shoal waters of the Straits, she might be able to get away by dodging into shallow water among the numerous islands, where the Angamos, with her deeper draught, would be unable to follow.

Darkness fell very shortly after the two ships had started on their run toward the Straits; and the lanterns on their foremasts were lighted after the same manner as on the previous night; while they surged along over the indigo-coloured water at the rate of about nine knots an hour, a sharp look-out being maintained meanwhile for the appearance of the Union. But to the great disappointment of everybody, that craft most persistently refused to put in an appearance; and when the next morning dawned the high, rocky cliffs of Tierra del Fuego and the Patagonian coast lay before them, and it became evident that the Peruvian had either retreated up the Straits, or that she was still behind them.

About nine o’clock the two ships, still flying the Peruvian colours, entered the Straits, and immediately slowed down to half-speed, not only on account of the intricate navigation, but also to give the Union a better chance of overtaking them if it should happen that she really was still astern. Catharine Point was passed and left behind, and the two steamers crossed Lomas Bay into the “First Narrows,” where Jim thought it possible that the Union might be waiting; but she was not there. They were steaming slowly across Elizabeth Bay, and Douglas was beginning to fear that the corvette had eluded him, after all, when a voice, hoarse with excitement, hailed from aloft:—

“On deck there! I can see three mastheads showing above that hummock of rock at the entrance to the ‘Second Narrows’; and there is a column of smoke visible, too, so the craft must be a steamer. We shall open her out in a few minutes now, and I think she must be that detestable corsair we are looking for.”

Jim was, as usual, on the navigating bridge when the hail floated down; and his first act was to seize a speaking-trumpet and shout the news to Manuel on the bridge of the Miraflores. His second was to spring up the ratlines, seat himself alongside the seaman in the crosstrees, and take a good look at what he could see of the stranger from that elevation. A prolonged scrutiny convinced him that the craft could be none other than the Union; and he hurried down to give his final orders, both ships having been kept practically prepared for action ever since the moment on the evening before when they started in company to look for the corvette. There was consequently very little to do in the way of preparation; and a quarter of an hour after sighting the Peruvian’s mastheads both Chilian ships were ready for the fray.

They had not steamed another cable’s-length when it became evident that a sharp look-out must also have been kept aboard the corvette; for her masts began to slide along the top of the ridge of rock, showing that she was under way; and a few minutes later the entire ship swept into view, flying the Peruvian ensign, and so leaving no room to doubt that she was the long-sought-for Union.

Directly she hove in sight Jim signalled to the Miraflores to close up and come alongside him, at a distance of half a cable’s-length away, and both ships quickened up their speed, by such small degrees as to be imperceptible, to nine knots, which was as fast as the cruiser’s consort could steam. Presently a long, dismal wail came floating across the water from the Union, and Douglas saw that she wished to attract his attention to a signal which she had just hoisted.

He at once dived into the chart-house for the signal-book, and presently he and his second lieutenant were poring over it in an effort to read the communication. But, to Jim’s intense annoyance, the signal, when translated, seemed to have no meaning, and he realised that the corvette was making a private and pre-arranged signal, which he was, of course, unable to read.

“Confound it, Aranjuez!” he exclaimed, angrily, to his second lieutenant, “what are we to do now? I did not anticipate this; and if we are not careful he will take alarm and sheer off. I wish I had thought of looking among the papers of the Miraflores’ captain; they might have contained the key to this private signal.”

“Well, seÑor,” replied the lieutenant, “we must delay making a signal of any sort until the very last moment. Then, when he shows signs of becoming suspicious and sheering off, we will hoist, very slowly, a string of flags meaning nothing in particular. It will take him some little time to decipher the flags; and we shall gain a few minutes while he tries to fathom their meaning from his own private signal-book. We ought, by that time, to be close enough to him for you to be able to open fire effectively if the men will only keep calm and shoot straight. Should we fail to disable him with the first few shots, however, he will be off and we may be unable to catch him again.”

“Precisely! This is the best—the only thing we can do, Aranjuez,” replied Jim, gazing steadily through his telescope at the Union. “I am not afraid of being unable to catch him if he will stick to deep water; but I feel convinced that if he takes the alarm he will be certain to run for shoal water at once. Have you got that bunting ready?” he continued, “for, if so, we had better run up a string of flags; he seems to be slowing down, as though he didn’t altogether like our looks. Quick! bend on and send them up. There, that’s it—not too fast now; not too fast. Ah, he has begun to move again, Aranjuez. Don’t hoist that signal any farther; if he only keeps as he is going for another ten minutes he will be under our guns. Oh, good luck, good luck! he’s coming along at full speed, or I’m a Dutchman!”

Jim was right; the Union was coming along at full speed; yet her captain was not quite such a fool as the young man took him to be. He had seen the two Chilians from his mastheads before they had seen him; and he had been watching them closely ever since; with the result that he had arrived at the conclusion that some trick was being played on him. But he fell into the error of mistaking the cruiser for the Huemul, and of believing that the crews of both vessels, corrupted by Chilian gold, had seized the ships, after murdering their officers. Villavicencio, therefore, promptly made up his mind to retake the gun-runners, which he felt certain were no longer in Peruvian hands, since his signals remained unanswered; and when he had approached to within a mile and a half of the two Chilian craft, he very much astonished Jim Douglas by opening fire upon him with his heavy 8-inch bow-guns.

Although he could not account for this sudden commencement of hostilities on the part of the Union, Jim on his own part had only been waiting for the proper moment to open fire himself, and now he, in turn, gave Villavicencio a most unpleasant surprise by returning his fire with a very much larger gun than the Peruvian imagined that the Huemul carried. For a few seconds the skipper of the Union hesitated as to whether he should not, even now, turn and run; for, taken altogether, matters seemed to be rather in the nature of an elaborately-laid trap.

But Villavicencio, now that Admiral Grau was dead, was the bravest man in the naval service of Peru; and his hesitation was but momentary. He continued to steam ahead at full speed, but put his helm over to starboard, causing the corvette to swerve slightly to port, and thus presented her whole starboard broadside to the approaching Chilians, who now hauled down the Peruvian flag and hoisted their own ensign. Then, as soon as his broadside guns bore on the enemy, Villavicencio fired, and a storm of shot and shell came flying round the Angamos and her consort, hulling the latter badly, and dismounting two of the recently replaced 12-pounder breech-loaders.

Jim ground his teeth as he saw the terrible execution wrought by the Union’s broadside; and, exhorting his men to keep cool, ordered them to load and fire as fast as they could. Once more the cruiser’s 8-inch gun roared out, sending its vengeful messenger shrieking toward the corvette. The shell struck right at the base of that ship’s foremast, and there exploded, scattering death and destruction all round it. The huge spar remained upright for a second or two, then it swayed slightly forward and to one side; the rigging, which had been badly cut up by fragments of flying shell, suddenly parted; and the mast went over the side with a crash that was plainly audible aboard the Chilian ships; and high above the crash of rending wood rang, loud and painfully clear, the agonised shrieks of the poor maimed wretches who had been crushed by its fall.

“Now’s your time,” shouted Jim, “they are lumbered up with the wreck of the foremast, and will not be able to fire their big gun until they have cleared it away. Fire into her now with every gun that will bear, and keep at it until she strikes. Miraflores ahoy! pass under my stern and take up a position on the Union’s port side when we come level with her; I will engage her to starboard. That’s the style, lads,” he continued enthusiastically, as a couple of 12-pounder shells exploded, one on the corvette’s navigating bridge and the other at the base of her conning-tower,—“that’s the style! Keep it up, and show them how the Chilians fight.”

The Peruvian skipper, however, was quicker in getting his wreckage cleared away than Jim had anticipated, and the Angamos had not fired many rounds before the cumbersome spar was cut adrift and went floating astern, and Villavicencio got his guns to work again. Their recent disaster, moreover, had not disturbed their aim; for the next 8-inch shell fired by the Union blew away the Miraflores’ funnel, and killed her helmsman, with the result that she turned sharply to port, with smoke and flame sweeping along her deck from the cavity which the shell had blown in it, and very narrowly escaped ramming the Angamos. The latter had by this time approached to within half a mile of the Union, and now got her machine-guns to work, mowing down the Peruvians who were not under cover as with a scythe, for the deck of the corvette was crowded with men.

After ten minutes of furious bombardment, and with the Miraflores crawling slowly up to take part again in the encounter, Villavicencio, brave as he was, realised that he had walked into a trap and had caught a Tartar; for he now recognised the Angamos for what she really was—a cruiser. Something had happened to the Huemul, that was perfectly clear, and the Miraflores was also in Chilian hands; he therefore considered that he was not justified in risking the Union any longer in an engagement which could have but one ending, considering the fact that the corvette was now the only effective ship which the Peruvians possessed in their sadly depleted navy. He consequently put up his helm and, describing a wide sweep to port, made off toward the entrance to the “Second Narrows,” maintaining, however, a well-directed fire as he went with his 8-inch stern gun, which weapon dropped shell with remarkable precision aboard the cruiser and her consort.

Jim had just signalled the Miraflores that he was going to chase the Union, and that the prize was to rendezvous at Punta Arenas, when an event occurred which made a rendezvous as unnecessary as it was impossible for the second gun-runner.

For, as though determined to do all the damage he possibly could before slipping away, Villavicencio had ordered a number of his broadside guns to be shifted aft, to enable him to maintain as heavy a fire as possible from that part of the ship; and so rapidly did he now fire from his stern ports that the series of explosions looked almost like a continuous sheet of flame, while the solid shot and shell fell round the Chilian ships like hail. The Miraflores had by this time dropped about a quarter of a mile astern of the Angamos, and the latter was gaining rapidly on the corvette, when the Union fired what was intended to be her last shot, a shell from an 8-inch gun. But that shell was the saving of her for, having pierced the unarmoured sides of the Miraflores as though they had been paper, the explosion took effect right among the tightly packed ammunition-cases which constituted her cargo, and the next second she went into the air, as the Huemul had done, with an appalling roar, followed by a tremendous shower of all kinds of dÉbris.

From the very nature of the explosion Jim felt practically certain that no one could possibly be left alive out of her whole company, yet there was nevertheless just one chance in a thousand that there might be; and with a groan of disappointment at being obliged to abandon the chase of the Union, he turned his ship round and began to search for possible survivors.

But he found none. A few poor unrecognisable human remnants were all that rewarded him for his attempt at rescue; and after a precious hour lost in this way, he once more turned his ship’s head and went off at full speed after the Union.

But that hour’s start had been sufficient for the corvette, and had enabled her to evade pursuit among the numerous islands which dot the Straits. Douglas haunted the Straits for a whole week, searching every nook and corner of them for the Peruvian; but the Union’s captain had done his work well, and the fugitive was nowhere to be found. And at length, unwilling though he was to give up his search, but anxious not to lose time when the Angamos might be required for other and more important work, he started back for headquarters, arriving at Valparaiso just a month after he had left it. He had carried out one part of his task, which was to prevent the two cargoes of arms from falling into the hands of the Peruvians; but the Union still remained at large, and was destined to give the Chilians a great deal more trouble before they finally closed her brilliant and adventurous career.

Chapter Thirteen.

Jim is taken Prisoner.

Douglas’s plan was, indeed, a sufficiently daring one; for he had resolved upon the accomplishment of no less a task than that of blowing into the air every ship in the Peruvian fleet then lying at Callao; and to do this he had been obliged to set to work on quite a new system. The Janequeo was constructed to carry only two spar-torpedoes, and these, of themselves, were quite insufficient for Jim’s purpose. For the ships would almost certainly be protected by booms to ward off possible attacks by torpedo-boats; and, should he manage to approach near enough, the young Englishman would need one torpedo to destroy the boom, leaving him but one more with which to destroy the ship it had protected.

But the destruction of a single ship was not sufficient; for to ensure the subsequent success of the Chilian fleet it was imperative that all should be destroyed. The young man had therefore brought along his spar-torpedoes for use if necessary; but he had also manufactured a dozen large bombs which he meant to attach to the ships themselves, afterwards exploding them by means of a time fuse. By doing this he hoped to be able to destroy the whole fleet practically simultaneously; whereas by the spar method, even had he been able to carry a sufficient number of torpedoes, he would have been obliged to destroy them one after another; and of course, after the first explosion, the crews of all the rest would be prepared for him. He also had it in his mind to use the two spars themselves as a bridge, should he find that the vessels were protected by booms. Thus, if he could but attach the bombs undetected, he ought to be able to ensure the annihilation of the entire Peruvian squadron.

But it was a terribly dangerous service that he had undertaken, for he had on board the Janequeo enough explosive to destroy twelve ships, and if but one searching little machine-gun bullet were to strike her cargo—well, there would be an end of Douglas, his crew, and the torpedo-boat together. However, neither he nor the brave fellows with him gave much thought to the danger which they were themselves incurring; their country needed them, and if it must be so, she should have them.

Jim had calculated to the utmost nicety the time which he would probably need in getting through his business, and he had cut each of his fuses to such a length that the bombs should explode, as nearly as possible, at the same instant. If he received no check, and remained undiscovered, well and good; but if he were delayed at all after lighting the fuse, it would be very bad indeed for the Janequeo and her crew.

The wheel was in charge of an old quartermaster who knew Callao Bay as intimately as he did Valparaiso harbour; and as Jim stood beside him in the tiny shelter, watching him peer through the darkness and ever and anon give the wheel a slight turn this way or that, he realised that he had on board most of the elements which go to make up success. Luck was all that was wanting; and, as fortune is supposed to favour the brave, Jim had high hopes of bringing his expedition to a successful issue.

Away through the blackness swept the little torpedo-boat, with not a light showing anywhere on board her. The men had even been forbidden to smoke; and the stokers down below put coal on as carefully as though the furnaces were a lady’s drawing-room fire, so that there might be no flicker of flame hovering over the top of the funnel, or even so much as a spark to betray their whereabouts. In a little less than half an hour after leaving the Blanco Encalada the Janequeo sneaked round the south-east corner of San Lorenzo Island, being very careful not to collide with the big buoys which marked each Chilian vessel’s moorings. These passed, she slid in between San Lorenzo and Fronton, and entered the Boqueron Passage, coming in sight of the small lighthouse which was, strangely enough, still allowed to show its light at the back of the Dos de Mayo battery. Luckily for the daring little vessel searchlights had not yet come into vogue, or she could scarcely have hoped to escape discovery, for when she crossed the Camotal Bank, previous to turning to starboard in order to run up Callao Bay, she was so close inshore that her crew could plainly hear the shouts of the Peruvian soldiers who occupied the Mayo battery, and who were evidently holding a high carousal. For this circumstance Jim thanked his lucky stars, for there was the less likelihood of any men being on watch; while the noise they were making would prevent them from hearing, as a careful listener might have done, the throbbing of the Janequeo’s engines and the churning of her propeller.

Just as they had rounded the point, however, and the boat had turned her nose north-east, the bacchanalian sounds from the battery suddenly ceased, and lights began to flicker among the earthworks. Jim felt his heart stand still, for discovery now would mean the utter ruin of his project, to say nothing of the death of all of them; for a shot from one of those enormous 20-inch guns would send the frail Janequeo to the bottom like a stone, if it chanced to hit her. And evidently the Peruvians in that particular battery had taken alarm at something; for a tiny point of light appeared on the ramparts, and then quickly flared up into a bright blaze. A beacon-fire had been lighted, and at any moment now its glare might reveal the presence of the torpedo-boat to the Peruvians.

Jim immediately passed the word down to the engine-room for all the steam she could carry, and the little vessel’s speed at once increased by a knot or two. They were nearly in safety now, being about five hundred yards beyond the point, and a few minutes more would take them under the shadow of the higher ground upon which the Pierola battery was placed, when the glare from the beacon would be unable to reach them. But Jim’s great fear now was lest the other batteries also might take the alarm and light their beacons; in which case he could not possibly escape discovery.

By a happy chance, however, the Janequeo glided into the deep shadow, unobserved; and Jim now ordered the speed to be reduced so that the boat should not make so much “fuss” in going through the water, when she stole along at a speed of about ten knots, fifteen being her maximum, of which she was quite capable, as she was a perfectly new boat. The men in Pierola, being half a mile away from the Mayo battery, had evidently not noticed the beacon light, nor were their suspicions aroused, for all was perfectly quiet as the Janequeo crept safely past, with not a light gleaming anywhere in the battery to show that anybody was awake. This battery and the two lying next to it, to the north, had, as it happened, borne the brunt of the fighting that day, and presumably the men were overcome by fatigue. Next, the Torre del Merced and Fort Santa Rosa were safely passed, and the lights of Callao itself swung in sight; the railway station, which lay close to the waterside, was particularly brilliantly lighted, while the sounds proceeding therefrom seemed to indicate that troops were either arriving at, or were being dispatched from, the place.

They were now only about a quarter of a mile from the southern end of the mole, and Douglas passed the word round for his crew to hold themselves in readiness, although the entrance to the harbour where the ships were lying was still half a mile distant, the mole being nearly five hundred yards in length. The queer-shaped bombs were then got up on deck, and Jim busied himself upon the task of attaching the fuses to them. He was obliged to work by the sense of touch alone, as he dared not, of course, use a light of any description. By the time that he had finished his preparations the Janequeo had almost reached the northern end of the mole, and the moment was at hand for the great attempt to be made. Douglas now lessened speed still further, for he did not quite know what shape the defences to the harbour would take. He anticipated that there would almost certainly be a number of floating mines to pass through; and it was more than likely that a patrol of the place might be maintained by launches steaming with their lights out.

A few minutes later the adventurers arrived abreast the northern end of the mole, and were made aware of the fact by a slight diminution of the pitchy blackness caused by the wall of the mole being left on their starboard quarter. The light on the pierhead was, of course, extinguished while hostilities were in progress; for the Peruvians were much too sensible to leave any beacon by which an enemy might easily make the mouth of the harbour. Jim could now see the forest of spars belonging to the ships which he had come to destroy outlined against the luminous haze formed by the lights of the town, although his own little craft was shrouded in dense blackness; and he ordered the man at the wheel to port his helm a few spokes, upon which the Janequeo turned gradually to starboard until she came abreast of the harbour entrance, which was only about two hundred feet in width. He then stopped his engines altogether, and, when the torpedo-boat had come to a standstill, he proceeded to listen with all intentness for suspicious sounds. But everything was as still as the grave, and Douglas began to hug to himself the conviction that events seemed to be turning out fortunately. He could hear no sounds aboard the Peruvian warships; and there was no sign of any patrol launches being about. Having, therefore, taken all the precautions in his power, he started his engines once more and went ahead, dead slow, turning to starboard until the Janequeo’s bows pointed straight for the harbour entrance. Nearer and nearer she stole, while her crew waited in readiness for action, every muscle tense and quivering with anticipation and excitement. The bombs had been ranged in two lines of six each, one on the port and one on the starboard side, so that there would be no need to carry them far, whichever side the torpedo-boat presented to the enemy.

She was gliding through the water at a speed of about five knots when, suddenly, there was a slight grating sound, the Janequeo’s bows lifted out of the water, and the boat came to a dead stop, with her screw still slowly churning up the water astern. The shock caused some of the men on deck to lose their footing, and the whole row of bombs on the port side splashed overboard as the Janequeo heeled in that direction. In a second Jim was on his feet and, rushing to the engine-room, bade the man in charge to stop his engines. Then he dashed on deck again, half expecting to hear the crash of guns opening fire upon him, while he listened intently in order to ascertain whether his presence had been betrayed by the disturbance.

There was no sound of alarm, however; and Douglas presently realised that, strange as it appeared, the Janequeo was still undiscovered. Then, silently, he and his men set about the task of discovering what had caused the obstruction, and they were not long in finding that a stout chain had been stretched across the entrance evidently to prevent just such an attack as this, and that the Janequeo had run in upon this chain where it “sagged” in the middle, her momentum carrying her right up on to it, for her fore-foot was nearly out of the water. Thus they were in a particularly perilous predicament, for if they were discovered now no power on earth could save them; but Jim was thankful beyond measure that he had not been running in at full speed, otherwise the Janequeo would most certainly have broken her back and sunk on the instant. The loss of half the bombs was very serious too, but he still had six of them left, and if he could sink a ship with each he would not have done so badly on the whole.

The question now, however, was, how were they going to get clear of the chain, and, once clear, how were they going to surmount the obstacle and get into the harbour? But, “one thing at a time,” thought Douglas. Let them get off the chain first of all; and that without breaking the torpedo-boat in half or alarming the enemy. He listened again intently for any sound which would indicate that the Peruvians were stirring, and then, hearing nothing, he sent his engines astern at full speed, with the concentrated energy of a quarter of an hour’s pent-up steam. The water frothed and boiled under the boat’s counter, making, in the intense stillness of the night, such a disturbance that Jim thought it must be heard all over the town; but, although the boat rocked from side to side under the strain, grinding her keel and bilges against the chain, she remained immovably fixed; and Jim ordered the engines to be stopped, feeling that so violent a disturbance of the water must speedily lead to their detection.

Douglas’s face became drawn, and his eyes took on a very strained look, as he realised what it would mean if he could not get the Janequeo off; the Peruvians would give very short shrift to a body of men who had been caught in the attempt to torpedo their fleet. Moreover, he had heard certain gruesome stories from the Chilian seamen to the effect that some of the half-caste troops which the Peruvians had with them were rather addicted to the pastime of torturing any prisoners who might be unlucky enough to fall into their hands—a relic, undoubtedly, of the customs of their Indian ancestors.

After the engines had been stopped, Jim called a hasty council of the crew, consulting with them as to what was best to be done. They could not possibly force the boat over the chain, because, even were the engines powerful enough, the Janequeo would break her back in the process.

“If only we had a couple of good strong files we might manage even yet,” whispered Douglas, leaning over the side and feeling at the chain. “The links are not more than half an inch thick, and we could soon cut them. Does anybody know whether there are any good stout files aboard?”

As he ceased speaking a man dived down through the tiny engine-room hatch, and presently reappeared, bearing in his hands two large files.

“We have these, seÑor,” he whispered excitedly to Jim; “they were brought on board this morning from the Blanco, when I was doing some repairs to the engines, and I forgot to take them back before we started. How will they do?”

Douglas eagerly seized the tools and ran his thumb along the edges. They were very rough and coarse, being hardly worn at all, and were just what was wanted for the purpose. Given sufficient time, and immunity from detection, the work of getting clear of the chain by filing it through would be easy.

“That’s the very thing, El Lobo,” ejaculated Douglas in a low voice. “Now, start on the job at once. Let one man cut the upper side of the link, and one the lower, and we shall be free in next to no time. Who will take first spell with me?”

Every man silently held out his hand for the other file, and Jim selected a fellow of herculean proportions to take first turn with him. In a few seconds the low rasping sound of the rapidly moving files broke the stillness of the night, and seemed preternaturally loud by comparison with that stillness. The remaining members of the crew concentrated all their powers in the act of listening, so that they might give instant warning to the workers, should the noise appear to attract any attention from the shore.

Jim and his fellow-labourer were soon bathed in sweat, while Douglas’s hands, unaccustomed to such toil, grew red and raw and blistered under the friction; for the files, as is quite usual in engineering departments, were unprovided with wooden handles over the rat-tail shank. Moreover, the task threatened to be long and difficult, in consequence of the awkwardness of the conditions. Jim’s spell of work came to an end after a quarter of an hour, however, and another couple of men took their places at the chain. But they had not been working more than five minutes when there was a heavy splash, followed by a cry of disappointment from both men.

It appeared that, while working, the two files had suddenly met in the middle of a stroke, with the result that one of them had been knocked out of its user’s hand and had gone overboard. This was a serious loss, indeed, and one that might cost the whole of them their lives; but, as Jim said, it was no use crying over spilt milk, the file was gone, and there was an end of it. The other man must work doubly hard, that was all. Meanwhile, he went down into the engine-room and prowled round to see whether, by some lucky chance, there might not be another file lying about. He was successful in finding a small one, but it was very much worn, and not likely to be of much use; nevertheless, in the hands of a strong man it might still be made to cut a little. He immediately took it up on deck and gave it to one of the crew. To his great relief, he found that one part of the chain was nearly severed. By the time that it was entirely cut through, the lower part of the link was half-severed; and then it was but a short job to completely cut it with the large file.

At length it was done. There was a final rasp of the file, a little snapping noise, a sudden splash as the chain fell into two halves and disappeared below the surface, and the Janequeo dropped back in the water with a loud “squelching” noise.

But they were free! Free at last; though every man on board was trembling like a leaf in the wind under the stress that they had undergone. There was no time for delay, however. Many precious minutes had been lost, and there were all too few left in which to complete the work that had to be done. Jim passed the word once more for steam for five knots, the screw began to revolve, and the Janequeo stole forward again on her errand of destruction. Jim feared that there might be a second chain across the harbour, a little higher up, but the Peruvians had evidently considered the single barrier sufficient, for there were no more booms.

Now he could see the towering spars of two school hulks, and in a few minutes he passed slowly and silently by them, but without stopping. They were old and practically worthless hulks; he would destroy them after he had annihilated the ironclad monsters which were capable of doing efficient work.

With carelessness that amounted to fatuity there seemed to be no watch kept on board the ships, and there were no lights visible. All was as still and silent as the grave. The Union was the next craft in line; she was a gunboat, and had already shewn herself capable of stinging pretty severely, but he promised himself to attend to her on the return journey, and pushed on still farther up the harbour. The ships were apparently all lying on the Janequeo’s port side, so it became necessary to shift the bombs over. By the time that this was done Jim saw a dark, shapeless mass looming up in front of him, crowned by one short, squat funnel and one mast; and he knew that he was approaching either the Atahualpa or the Manco Capac, the two monitors which had done so much damage to the Chilian fleet.

Here at last was a foe worthy of attention, and Jim stopped his engines altogether, allowing the Janequeo to slide along through the water by her own momentum. It was a fortunate thing that he did so, for when the torpedo-boat was within twenty feet of the monitor she suddenly collided with a floating wooden boom which had been placed round the ironclad. The impact was very slight, however, and Jim presently had his little craft securely moored alongside. He then got overboard on to the boom, with half a dozen men, and, carrying the bomb gingerly in his arms, and followed by his men bearing one of the torpedo-spars, made his way round to that portion of the timber which floated opposite the ironclad’s stern. Jim meant to affix his torpedo to the ship’s stern-post, so that, if it did not actually sink her, it might at least blow away both rudder and propeller, and so render the ship useless.

Arrived at the stern, he saw that she was his old enemy, the Manco Capac, and he at once set to work. The men laid the spar down on the boom and pushed it out until one end was touching the Manco Capac’s stern-post, the other remaining on the boom. They then lashed the boom-end securely, and Jim, having slung the bomb round his shoulders, started to crawl out along the spar, while the Chilians sat on the other end to make it still more steady.

It would have been a perilous enough journey at any time, but in the dark and with a heavy weight slung round the shoulders it was trebly difficult. Furthermore, the place fairly swarmed with sharks, and Douglas knew what his fate would be should he lose his hold and fall into the water, even if he did not happen to be dragged to the bottom at once by the weight round his neck. Several times his knees or his hands slipped, making the spar quiver ominously, but, fortunately, he retained his hold on the pole, and at last, after many a narrow escape, arrived under the ironclad’s overhanging counter.

Here the worst part of his task was over, for he could now support himself by clinging to the rudder, and he soon found a large nut, close to the water’s edge, from which he could suspend the deadly torpedo. He quickly unslung it from round his shoulders, and presently had it lashed firmly in position against the curve of the Manco Capac’s counter, the lower edge of the bomb being just about a couple of inches clear of the water. He then fixed the fuse alongside the rudder-post, and after listening to hear whether any one was about, he struck a match and applied it to the loose end.

This being the first torpedo, he had cut a length of fuse to burn for two hours, so that he would have time to do all his work and get away before the first explosion occurred, but when the fuse was lighted it seemed to fizz away with alarming rapidity, and Jim was so startled that he nearly fell into the water.

“That fuse will never burn for two hours,” he told himself; “there must be something wrong with it, for at that rate it will not last thirty minutes.” He therefore made his second journey along the pole at the best speed of which he was capable, and in a couple of minutes was standing on the boom once more. The seven of them made short work of unlashing the spar and getting it back to the torpedo-boat, and the Janequeo was soon under way again and stealing up the harbour once more.

The Atahualpa was the next ship they came to, and to their unbounded satisfaction they found that she was unprotected by a boom. The Peruvians probably thought that a hostile craft would never get so far without being discovered. The Janequeo was therefore run right under her stem, and the torpedo was affixed without any difficulty, a fuse timed for an hour and a half being lighted. This fuse, too, Jim noticed, seemed to be burning away much faster than it ought, but there was no time to watch it, and the torpedo-boat swung off once more on her mission of destruction.

These two craft were, with the exception, perhaps, of the Union, which was a fast ship, the most formidable in the Peruvian fleet, and Jim experienced a thrill of satisfaction at the thought that the Manco Capac and Atahualpa would, at any rate, not trouble the Chilians again. There was another ship lying close at hand, which Douglas judged to be the fast transport Oroya, because of her paddle wheels, and he made up his mind to attend to her before running back to blow up the Union. He selected her paddle-box as the best place to which to attach the torpedo, and as she, too, was unprotected by any boom, he soon had the bomb fixed in position and the fuse lighted.

“Now, men,” he whispered excitedly to his delighted crew, “we will run down and attend to the only other ship of theirs which is of any use—the Union. Hard over with your helm, quartermaster, and we will get down the harbour again.”

The wheel spun round in Pedro’s sinewy grasp, and the Janequeo’s nose was presently pointing down the harbour.

“Full speed ahead,” Douglas whispered down the tube, “we haven’t much time to lose.” And the little engines began to throb more rapidly, while the screw thrashed the water up astern. They soon passed the Atahualpa again, and Jim could plainly make out the jumping sparks which came from the fuse and hissed into the water, but the sight was hidden from any one up above by the overhang of the ship’s counter, and he felt fairly certain that it could not possibly be discovered before the bomb had exploded and done its deadly work. As they slipped past the doomed monitor Douglas’s eye suddenly caught sight of a dark figure with a rifle over its shoulder silhouetted against the luminous haze thrown off by the lights of Callao, and his heart gave a great bound, for the figure had not been there when the torpedo-boat passed up, and she could now hardly hope to avoid detection.

Jim’s fears were only too well founded, for the sentry saw the Janequeo as quickly as Jim saw the sentry, and in a second the fellow roared a hoarse challenge across the water, discharging his rifle at the boat as she swept past, without waiting for any reply. And indeed there was no need for him to expect an answer to his hail, for he knew that no boat ought to be cruising about there if she were a Peruvian; while, if she were a Chilian—

The rifle-shot was the signal for an immediate uproar; it seemed as though every man must have been asleep at his post, for the Atahualpa’s decks suddenly became literally alive with figures, and rifles began to flash about her in scores, while the bullets pattered round and into the torpedo-boat with most unpleasant accuracy of aim.

“There is no time to destroy the Union now,” hissed Douglas between his teeth; “we shall have to be satisfied with what we have already done, and, caramba! we shall be fortunate if we get away with whole skins. Look out, all people with thin skulls; the Manco’s people are training her big guns on us! Full speed ahead, below there,” he roared, there being no more need now for secrecy; “give her all the steam she can carry, or they will have us for certain.”

The screw was already turning at its utmost speed, however, and not another knot could be got out of the flying little steamer; indeed, she was already doing sixteen, or one knot more than they had any right to expect. Just as Jim spoke, a red rocket leaped up into the still night air with a whistling roar, bursting high up in the sky with a shower of brilliant red stars.

“A signal to the patrols in the bay!” cried Jim; and at the same moment the huge 15-inch gun on board the Manco Capac roared out its vengeful message. “We shall have to hurry to get clear now, and no mistake.”

The flash of the great gun, fired at such close quarters, nearly blinded the Janequeo’s crew, while they were dazed by the hurtling roar of the shell as it sped past, a few feet only above their heads. But the torpedo-boat was now moving very rapidly, and the Manco’s crew would not be able to load and fire their stern gun again before she was out of its range; but there was still her bow gun to be feared, and the gauntlet of the Union and the two school hulks had to be run before they could get clear. It looked as if the Janequeo was in for a bad ten minutes; for, after the alarm had been given, it seemed as though every ship in the harbour had lighted her beacon-fire; and Jim could see, by the glare of those which had sprung up aboard the Union and her consorts, that guns, both big and small, had been run out ready to fire into the intruder as she passed; while every vessel’s side was literally black with riflemen, all waiting to pour a volley into the daring Janequeo.

Douglas had almost forgotten, in the prevailing excitement, the fact that torpedoes had been attached to three Peruvian vessels, and, in any case, he did not expect them to explode for at least an hour; when, just as the Janequeo had got about fifty yards past the Manco Capac, there was a most appalling explosion from the stern of the latter craft; and Jim, turning round, saw that the air was full of blazing fragments of wreckage, and that, even as he gazed, the great monitor was beginning to settle by the stern. At the moment when the mine exploded, the monitor was just about to fire her 15-inch bow gun; but the catastrophe of course threw everything into confusion, and the weapon, flung from its trunnions in the very act of firing, discharged its deadly missile high into the air, where it exploded, sending out a blaze of flame like a miniature firework display.

“One of them done for, at any rate!” soliloquised Jim through his set teeth, as he bent over the deck-telegraph of the flying boat to ring for yet more speed. “But now they will surely find the other torpedoes and cut them adrift before they have time to explode. Confound those fuses! The wretched things must have perished badly, or perhaps they have been wrongly timed in the manufactory.”

The young man had no opportunity, however, for further reflection, for they were now dashing along toward the Union and the other two ships; and after the first shock of terror at the destruction of the monitor, the Peruvians had returned to the guns, and were quite ready to send the Janequeo to the bottom.

“God help us!” murmured the young Englishman; “we shall never get through that tempest of fire; but I am going to try!”

Nearer and nearer they swept, until the torpedo-boat was only a hundred yards away, and then the Union fired her first gun, a large 8-inch rifled weapon, loaded with a shell which screamed horridly as it swept past and plunged into the water just astern. The riflemen raised their pieces, levelled them over the corvette’s high sides, and, at the word of command, which all aboard the torpedo-boat could hear, they sent their volleys hurtling aboard that devoted craft. Jim felt a sharp twinge in his left shoulder, and knew that he was hit; two other men fell to the deck, limp as empty suits of clothes. The Janequeo was now abreast the Union, and, as she drew level, the latter ship discharged every gun that she could bring to bear.

It was simply impossible that she could miss. There was a ripping and tearing of iron as the shower of steel struck the torpedo-boat. Both her funnels were blown completely out of her, and the hissing roar of escaping steam, followed by the screams of the scalded stokers down below, told all too plainly that a boiler had been pierced. The quartermaster at the wheel let go the spokes and collapsed on deck, and Jim staggered to the helm just in time to prevent the Janequeo from crashing into the mole. Then, still floating, and with smoke, steam, and flame billowing along her decks and blinding her gallant skipper, the maimed little vessel staggered forward. But escape was not for her. The Union had a smart man for captain, and he did not intend the little Chilian hornet to go clear. The forward 8-inch gun bellowed out, and its shell struck the Chilian fair and square on her stern, exploding as it passed into her hull, and literally blowing the after-part of her away.

Her stern plunged downward; she rolled heavily once or twice, and then turned right over, throwing Jim, in a state of semi-unconsciousness, into the water of the harbour. Then she sank, and the bottom blew out of her as she plunged beneath the surface. At this precise moment, to Jim’s fast-failing senses there came the roar of a terrific explosion, followed almost instantly by a second, and he knew that, though his own ship was lost, he had done his duty and succeeded in destroying three of the enemy.

Just as he was on the point of sinking, however, for the last time, a hand shot out, grasped his collar, and hauled him roughly into a boat, while a voice growled out in Spanish, “This is the only one afloat, seÑor; the rest are down among the sharks, who will not go hungry to-night.” Then darkness closed down over Jim’s senses, though not before he had realised that he was a prisoner in the hands of his enemies, the Peruvians.

Chapter Fifteen.

On the Road to Sorata.

It is small wonder that Douglas felt so unnerved by the ordeal through which he had just passed that his brain seemed numbed to such an extent that he scarcely realised what was going on around him. Villavicencio’s taunts passed him by almost unheeded, and Jim most certainly did not realise that he was only exchanging a sudden for a lingering death. He was conscious only of the fact that his life had been spared; and he walked to his cell, between the guards, like a man in a dream. It was not until the heavy prison door banged to after him that he really awoke once more to a sense of the reality of things; and, although he speedily realised all that was meant by his being condemned to the silver mines for life, hope sprang up again in his breast. While there was life there was hope; and he would be a poor sort of man, he reflected, if he could not somehow contrive to escape, and that soon, from the terrible captivity to which Villavicencio had consigned him. And further than that, he determined that, once free, he would make the brutal Peruvian skipper pay, and that heavily, for the mental torment to which he had put his prisoner.

To occupy his mind, Jim then began to examine his prison, so far as his bonds would permit him to do so, with the view of ascertaining whether there was any possibility of escape for him; and he came to the conclusion that, though he might possibly manage to break out, if he were given time enough, he would need a very much longer time for the accomplishment of such a task than the few hours which were to elapse before he was to be taken out of the cell and placed among the chain-gang which was to march to the silver mines. No; escape, if escape was to be compassed, would have to be effected while on the march; and Douglas fell to wondering who his companions in misfortune would prove to be, and whether they would be likely to be prevailed upon to join him in a dash for liberty. At any rate, he decided, as he fell asleep, nothing could be done, no arrangements could be made, until he saw the men who were to be his fellow-prisoners. Then, and then only, would he be able to judge whether an escape while on the march would be practicable. Jim sincerely hoped that the captives would prove to be “game” men, for once they had arrived at their destination, the silver mines, there would be very little chance of escape. Their freedom would have to be won while on the march, or not at all.

Thus musing, Jim, overcome by the many and varied emotions of the morning, at length fell asleep; and he continued to slumber peacefully and almost continuously until he was wakened, on the following morning, by the sounds of the clashing of arms and the tramp of heavy footsteps outside his cell door. The young man sat up quickly, feeling much refreshed after his long sleep; and a second later the cell door swung open, a file of Peruvian marines entered the prison, and he was ordered to rise to his feet. His manacles were then unlocked, and, between his two guards, he walked out of his cell for the last time and proceeded on deck. There was nobody there when he arrived, and he was ordered to sit down under the port bulwarks, which he did, with the marines mounting guard over him. But a few minutes later Lieutenant Rodriguez appeared on deck, followed by a miserable-looking squad of half a dozen Chilian officers, among whom Jim recognised one or two whom he knew. They were guarded by a score of Peruvian seamen armed with drawn cutlasses. Jim was then roughly hauled to his feet and pushed into the midst of the new arrivals, who, recognising his uniform, tattered and torn though it was, hailed him as a comrade, and received him with, figuratively, open arms. The seven men were then formed up in line, and their names called out by Rodriguez. When they had answered the roll the Peruvian lieutenant called the sergeant in charge of the guard aside and gave him certain instructions; after which the Chilians were once more formed up in the middle of their escort, and the whole body, prisoners and guards, marched down the sloping gangway which led from the Union’s deck to the wharf, and Jim found himself once more, after many weary months, on terra firma.

Still surrounded by their guards, the Chilians marched away along the stone quay wall, and presently, having left the precincts of the harbour, they arrived in the town proper of Callao. There, as soon as they made their appearance, a crowd of roughs surrounded the prisoners and began to deride them and pelt them with such filth and garbage as came to hand. Their destination, Jim discovered, was the Plaza, or great square, of the city, where they were to join the main body of prisoners destined for the mines. For the whole of the way the unfortunate men were in peril of their lives from the ferocity of the mob; indeed, in one instance the crowd made such an ugly rush in its attempt to get at the Chilians, to tear them to pieces, that their guards were obliged to halt, form a hollow square, with their captives in the middle, and repel the attack with their fixed bayonets.

At the moment when the danger was at its worst Jim seized the opportunity to observe the faces of his companions in misfortune, and on only two of them did he perceive any signs of terror; he therefore decided that when making his plans for escape he would take especial care that those two officers were not made acquainted with them, as they would be not unlikely to disclose the plot, hoping that by so doing they might procure their own freedom without the danger involved in fighting for it. The remaining four held their heads high, and looked as though, if only they possessed weapons, they would have been more than glad to take a share in the fight. These were the sort of fellows, Douglas decided, with whom to discuss plans for escape, and he made up his mind that as soon as he could do so without being observed by the guards, he would take them aside with a view to the arranging of a plan of escape to be put into effect before the prison-gang should arrive at the mines.

At length the crowd, finding that the military guard round the prisoners was too strong for it, abandoned its attempt to wreak its vengeance on the Chilians, and finally dispersed. The procession then resumed its march, and a quarter of an hour later arrived at the gran Plaza de Callao, where another depressing sight met Jim’s eyes. Round the Plaza now ranged rank upon rank of armed Peruvian soldiers, who were mounting guard over a hundred or more disconsolate-looking Chilian prisoners, who were nearly all manacled, some singly and some in groups. There were present representatives of nearly every regiment of the Chilian army, and naval men of all ratings; and, since the poor fellows had had no change of clothing during their captivity, most of their uniforms were almost unrecognisable. But Jim distinguished among them officers who belonged to the Constitucion and Valparaiso regiments, the Guias, and Grenaderos, together with Carabineros, Lancers, and Rifleros. Most of the naval prisoners were, however, officers; and Jim was overjoyed to see that among these were several men whom he knew, and to whom he determined to make his presence known at the first possible opportunity. The Englishman was at first a little surprised at the preponderance of military over naval captives, until he recollected that some months before, the Union, in command of the redoubtable Villavicencio, had captured the transport Rimac, which was on her way to Arica with troops. These unfortunate men had been subjected to a rigorous captivity in Callao for some months, and had only been taken from prison that very morning in order to march to the still worse fate of captivity in the mines. Altogether there were, with the new arrivals, about a hundred and fifty Chilian prisoners present on the Plaza; and Jim speedily made up his mind that it would be very curious if they could not by some means or other manage to effect their escape while on the road.

The appearance of the naval prisoners from the Union was the signal for cheers from their companions in misfortune, and Jim was speedily recognised by some of the officers near him. The Peruvian soldiers, however, did not seem to relish this manifestation on the part of their prisoners, and several of them ordered the Chilians to keep silent, enforcing the command with savage blows from the butt-ends of their muskets. But at this moment a gorgeously uniformed official rode up on horseback and spoke to the captain in charge of the guard. Jim could not hear what was said, but the official handed the captain a paper, appeared to give him certain instructions, and then galloped off. Captain Veragua—for that, Jim afterwards learned, was the soldier’s name—glanced through the paper, and then began to call the roll of the prisoners. Most of them were present; but a hiatus now and again occurred, which was filled in by a voice responding, “Dead, captain!”

This ceremony having been finished, several armourers made their appearance, with hammers and cold chisels, and proceeded to knock off the prisoners’ leg-irons, so that they would be able to march. Then the unhappy men were manacled together in groups of a dozen by means of a long chain to which their right wrists were fastened. Jim, seeing that this process was in progress, unostentatiously moved from where he was standing and took up a position in the midst of a number of naval officers whom he knew, and who had already been making covert signs for him to do so. It thus fell out, as he had hoped, that he was manacled to a group of men whom he already knew, and he determined to lose no time in discussing with them plans for a possible escape.

There was no opportunity for that just at present, however; for his group was practically the last to be attended to; and, directly their chains had been riveted on, the whole body was formed up in a solid square. They were then surrounded by the troops, the order to march was given, and the entire company wheeled to the right off the Plaza into the Calle de los Angeles, down which they proceeded at a rapid pace.

The low hum of conversation immediately broke out among the Chilians, and it was not checked by their guards; therefore, although it was impossible at present to discuss anything of a private nature, Jim took the opportunity to ask his friends if they had any information as to the fate in store for them, beyond the fact that they were destined for the mines. He found, however, that the latter fact was practically all that was known. They were to be taken, in the first place, he learned, to the recently erected station at Callao, and then put in the train for Lima. There they were to be imprisoned in the castle for one or two nights, until a second detachment of Chilian prisoners should have arrived from the south, and then the whole body was, as far as could be ascertained, to be marched direct to Sorata by way of Yanyos, Huancavelica, Guantanga, Cuzco, and Santa Rosa. This constituted a journey of some six hundred miles, the whole of which was to be accomplished on foot! Truly a pleasant prospect! But Jim vowed to himself that it would not be his fault if he did even as much as a sixth of that distance before he escaped. He therefore caused the word to be passed round among his fellow-officers, to whom he was manacled, that he wished to have a private talk with them upon the first occasion that offered; and their nods of comprehension assured him that they pretty clearly understood for what purpose the conversation was to be held.

But they had, by this time, arrived at the railway station, and the detachment was halted in the goods-yard just outside. Although regular passenger communication had not yet been established between Callao and the capital, there had been for some time a line of railway for the purpose of carrying merchandise from the coast to Lima; and when the war began this line was seized upon by the military authorities for the purpose of transporting stores and soldiers. A huge, gloomy barrack of a station had been built, together with a number of auxiliary goods-sheds for the purpose of holding the war material; and it was among these sheds that the Chilians found themselves halted. The tedious process of calling the roll was then again gone through, and by the time that that was finished a shrill whistle, accompanied by much blowing-off of steam, and the clank of coupling-chains, announced that the train was being drawn up.

Presently it came in sight round a curve, bumping and jolting over the points, and Jim saw that it was made up of a number of goods-trucks, to which no covering whatever had been attached, so that the unhappy prisoners would be exposed, during the whole of their journey, to the fierce rays of an almost vertical sun, and, as some of the men had already been without water for twelve hours, and there seemed to be no prospect of getting any before their arrival at Lima, it looked as though their journey, short as it was to be, would prove a never-to-be-forgotten one.

The Chilians were now formed up in two long lines, one on each side of the set of metals on which the train was approaching; and, as soon as it steamed into its place, they were ordered to get on board. Manacled as they were in groups of twelve, this was necessarily a very tedious process, and two hours elapsed before the prisoners were all stowed away. It was then found that too few wagons had been provided, and, as there were no more procurable, the consequent crushing was terrible. But it had one advantage, which was, that the Peruvians were obliged to send a much smaller guard of soldiers than they would otherwise have done, for the simple reason that there was no room for more; and, as all the Chilians had now stowed themselves away and it would have taken too long a time to rearrange them, all the guards had to go in the last truck, instead of being distributed all over the train. This gave the prisoners the opportunity that some of them were looking for to have a little private conversation; but there was no present chance of escape; for the Peruvians with their rifles could fire from one end of the train to the other, and thus speedily put an end to any attempts of the sort.

The train was on the point of starting when one poor thirsty wretch began to cry out most piteously for a drink of water; and in a second all the others were also clamouring for some. But the Peruvians merely laughed at their entreaties, telling them that it would do them good to be without for a while, and that they would appreciate their drink all the more when they got to Lima. The signal was then given, the whistle blew, and the melancholy procession moved out of Callao station, to the accompaniment of ironical cheers and wishes for a safe and happy journey from the soldiery and such of the townspeople as had come to witness the departure.

The pace of the train was positively snail-like, and, as the engine had no tender attached, and burned wood instead of coal, the stoppages in order to replenish with fuel were very numerous. At the same time, it being now high noon, the vertical sun streamed down upon the uncovered trucks until they resembled so many ovens. The intense heat, coupled with the inordinate length of time occupied by the journey, reduced some of the prisoners, especially those who had been without water for many hours, to the verge of frenzy. Their supplications for water would have moved the hearts of any but the brutal Peruvian guards, whose canteens were full of spirit and water, and who constantly refreshed themselves therefrom, tortured the thirsty prisoners by holding the water-bottles up to their gaze, and then pouring the contents down their own throats. Gradually a low moan of pain and misery made itself heard in one of the trucks, which soon spread to the others as the miserable men became unable to bear their tortures any longer in silence.

“By Jove!” exclaimed Jim, “this is awful; what fiends these Peruvians are! We have never treated our prisoners of war as these fellows are doing; I wish I had some water to give them, but unfortunately I have none; moreover, I am nearly perishing with thirst myself. Dozens of these men are wounded, you know, Carlos,” he continued, to a brother officer who was sitting next to him, “and their sufferings must be awful; some of them will go mad before we get to Lima. Hallo! quick there, stop that man!” he yelled, as a haggard-looking Chilian soldier staggered to his feet, his eyes blazing with insanity.

But Douglas’s warning came too late. The Englishman had understood instinctively what the maddened wretch was about to do, and shouted his warning, but the men were packed so closely that there was no opportunity to save him. Before a single individual could rise to his feet the Chilian, manacled by one wrist as he was, had flung himself over the end of the truck and, falling between the metals, was now being dragged along by the train, his shrieks of agony filling all who heard them with horror. The soldier happened to be the end man of his group, and his length of chain was rather longer than that connecting the other members of that particular party; but he had nearly dragged the man next to him to a similar fearful death, for the poor fellow, half crazed with terror, was hanging over the end of the truck with his arm nearly torn from its socket by the corpse trailing on the line. His companions, however, seized him by the body, while several strove to disconnect the chain which fettered him to the awful object trailing beneath the train.

Jim and several others had staggered to their feet and were shouting to the driver to stop the train, but the man was too far away to comprehend what was said. The Peruvians in the last truck, feigning to believe there was a mutiny of the prisoners, and glad of any excuse for cruelty, began to fire into the huddled mass of Chilians, the bullets doing fearful execution at such short range. The officer next in line to Jim fell dead with a bullet through his heart, and pulled Douglas down with him, thereby saving the Englishman’s life, for a perfect hail of bullets whizzed into the truck the moment after he fell.

At this moment there was a fearful shriek from the front end of the truck. The body of the man who had committed suicide had by this time been cut to pieces by the wheels, and the loose end of chain had consequently been relieved of the drag upon it and was now lashing about among the wheels. Before the soldier who had been nearly dragged over could realise this and haul up the chain, the swaying end had got entangled among the spokes of a wheel. It was quickly coiled up and broken, of course, but before this happened it had actually torn the unhappy Chilian’s hand completely off, and his shrieks would have convinced the Peruvian guards that something was wrong had they been willing to be convinced, and not been too busily occupied in firing into their helpless prisoners.

The maimed soldier had, however, fainted, and he now fell senseless upon the floor of the car, while his companions, unable to assist him, followed his example by lying down, to be out of the line of fire. The Peruvians, however, fired a few more shots into the truck; but since they could no longer see anybody at whom to shoot, they presently tired of their pastime, and laid down their rifles, laughing heartily among themselves at the sport they had enjoyed. Douglas and his fellow-officers heard the raucous sounds of merriment, and each in his heart vowed that, if they lived, they would exact a fearful retribution for the inhuman treatment which they had that day received from their captors.

At four o’clock that afternoon the train crawled and jolted into Lima; the trucks were at once surrounded by soldiery who were waiting for their arrival, and the unhappy prisoners were roughly hauled out and formed up in a square as before. The weary, hungry and thirsty prisoners were hurried off to the castle of Lima, where, in the courtyard, they were given the first food and water that many of them had received for nearly thirty-six hours.

While the starving wretches were refreshing themselves, the gates opened to admit another body of about fifty Chilians surrounded by guards. These were herded in among those who had arrived by the train, and likewise were given food and water, upon which they fell like ravenous wild beasts. After having satisfied his hunger, Jim seized the opportunity to look round him a little. There were now about two hundred Chilians present, and it was evident, from the preparations that were being made, that they were all to be taken to the mines. Even as he looked about him the new force of guards began to form up. There were quite a hundred of them, Jim noticed, or about one to every two prisoners. But the Peruvians were all armed with rifle and bayonet, whereas the Chilians were not; moreover, the guards were free, while the Chilian prisoners were manacled together in groups of a dozen.

Douglas had been led to expect that they would be kept a day or two at Lima, but he now saw that he had been mistaken in his surmise. Apparently the second body of prisoners had arrived sooner than they were expected, and consequently the authorities had decided that all the Chilians should commence their march without delay. The captives were now ordered to stand up, and were formed into one company of five men deep. After this was done a number of Peruvians brought in a couple of wagons, which they at once began to unload, taking therefrom a number of pickaxes and shovels, which were then served out among the prisoners, and each man was given one of each tool. The reason for this, Jim discovered, was that there were not sufficient implements at Sorata to supply the new labourers, so the prisoners were compelled to carry with them the tools wherewith they were to do their work when they reached their destination.

“Carrajo!” exclaimed Douglas under his breath, as he watched his fellow-prisoners shoulder the pickaxes and shovels. “Do those fools of Peruvians know what they are doing? Why, they are absolutely delivering themselves into our hands! I was wondering by what means we should be able to overcome a hundred armed soldiers while on the march, but now that we have got these things it will be easy.”

He was aroused from his reverie by receiving a heavy blow on the shoulder and hearing a rough voice exclaim: “Now then, wake up; don’t stand there dreaming all day. What are you thinking about? Here, catch hold of this spade and pickaxe; that’s your share. Ha, ha! it’s a good idea and an excellent joke to make you rascals carry the tools with which we are going to make you work when you reach the mines. That’s it; now get into your place, and look sharp; we shall be on the march in a few minutes. I hope your honour won’t find the weight too heavy, for you will come off rather badly if you do!”

Jim clutched his tools with the grasp of a drowning man, and there was joy in his heart as he shouldered them, for he did not regard them as tools, but rather as the precious means by which to regain his liberty. Find them too heavy! Well, he rather thought not; he would not part with them, now that they were his, on any account, for a scheme of escape had come into his mind which he believed he could easily put into practice, if he could but secure the co-operation of his fellow-prisoners.

But there was no more time at present for thought; the column was on the point of departure. A bugle rang out shrilly from somewhere in the courtyard; a stentorian voice barked out certain orders, and the Peruvian guards closed up round their captives. Then, just as dusk was falling, the gates were thrown open, and the column of three hundred men marched out of Lima castle into the broad streets, on the road to Sorata.

Nothing could be done that night, Jim decided; and a week elapsed before he could even speak to his companions upon the subject which was uppermost in his mind. Then, one evening, shortly before midnight, when the vigilance of the guards had somewhat relaxed, Jim found his opportunity. He softly wakened the man next to him, and whispered earnestly to him for about ten minutes. The Chilian officer listened intently, and then awoke his companion in turn and passed the idea on to him. Thus the “word” percolated through the sleeping camp, and before morning every one of the Chilians who could be trusted had been informed of Jim’s plan, and had agreed to be on the watch for the signal which the young Englishman had promised to give them upon the very first opportunity which presented itself as being likely to promise success.

Chapter Sixteen.

The Red Day of Cuzco.

A fortnight had passed since that memorable night upon which Jim communicated his plan of escape to his fellow-prisoners, and still no opportunity had come for the Chilians to make a bid for freedom. For some days after Douglas had communicated with them the weary men had brightened up considerably. The spark of hope which glimmered in the midst of their darkness gave them strength to bear up under their many misfortunes. But as day after day came and went without the signal being given, a dull despair had taken the place of hope, and many a worn-out and soul-sick man fell down in the dusty road, never to rise again. Belonging, as the bulk of the prisoners did, to a southern race, they were very easily cheered up or cast down, and their despair was all the deeper for the short interval of hope which had been given them. The majority of them seemed to have almost resigned themselves to fate, and were looking forward to nothing better than a lifelong captivity in the mines of Sorata. To such an extent, indeed, was this the case that Jim realised that, unless an opportunity should very shortly occur whereby he could put his scheme into execution, his companions would be too profoundly dispirited to attempt to make use of the chance of escape when it should actually arrive. He had told them, however, at the outset that it would be folly to make the attempt while crossing the mountains; for, even should they contrive to get away, they would be in the heart of a hostile country, where they might easily be recaptured. The young Englishman’s plan had been to wait until they got farther south, when they would again be comparatively close to the coast, so that they might escape thither and trust to being able to get away in boats. But the long-protracted waiting, coupled with the intense cold which they experienced up among the mountains, was fast taking all the heart out of the prisoners, and Jim saw that unless the attempt were made almost at once everything would be lost.

They were now nearing Cuzco, having travelled nearly half the distance to Sorata, and the weary men hoped to sleep that very night in the ancient capital of the Incas. Jim had managed to interchange a few hasty words about mid-day with the officers of his own group, all men of high courage and of advanced rank, and they and he had come to the conclusion that the escape should be attempted that very night, should they fail to reach Cuzco, or the night after leaving that city, should they happen to arrive there that day. These few were the only men who had retained their courage unimpaired, and Jim felt that he could rely upon them. It would not do, they all decided, to wait any longer; and although Cuzco itself lay among the mountains, it would be better to make the attempt there, and trust to being able to get away to the sea-coast, than be obliged to defer it indefinitely.

The word to be on the watch and ready was therefore passed round immediately after the mid-day halt; and it was astonishing to see how the news brightened up the weary men and made new beings of them. Indeed, Jim almost felt sorry that he had not delayed the message until the evening, for he felt alarmed lest the guards should observe the change and guess at its cause. They seemed, however, to take no notice of it, and the forlorn procession moved forward slowly along the great, dusty road, which had not been repaired since the time of Pizarro’s conquest. Hour after hour went by and there was still no sign of the City of the Sun; so that, by the time that four o’clock arrived, Douglas decided that the escape would have to be attempted that very night. Just before dusk the clouds, which had been covering the heavens all day long, broke; the glorious setting sun shone out in all his majesty; and there before them in the distance, some fifteen miles away, his beams fell on the city of Cuzco, gilding and glorifying it until it actually did present the appearance of a city of gold. It was a magnificent sight, and drew an exclamation of admiration and delight from the Chilians, weary as they all were; but they hoped that the view which they had just obtained of the place was all that they would ever see of it—as it would be, if fortune would but favour them that night.

It was now perfectly evident that they would not be able to reach Cuzco that evening, and as the darkness was fast coming on the Peruvians began to look about them for a suitable place in which to camp for the night. About half a mile farther on could be seen, through the gathering gloom, a small hillock, crowned with great rocks and boulders, apparently the remains of some ancient Inca fortification. This struck Douglas as a place that might have been made on purpose for their attempt, could the guards but be induced to pitch the camp there. He was casting about in his mind for some scheme by which they might be induced to select the spot as a halting-place, when the officer in command of the troop rose in his stirrups and, pointing to the hillock with his sword, exclaimed:

“There, over yonder, is the place for us, mi hijos; we will encamp among those boulders. We shall be as comfortable there as in the city of Cuzco itself. Forward, guerreros; we shall soon be there; and we will have a good long rest to-night.”

“Ay, that you will, you inhuman scoundrel,” muttered Jim; “but it will not be the sort of sleep of which you are thinking!” However, the prisoners and their guards pushed forward, and in about ten minutes’ time the group arrived at the foot of the little hill, which they at once began to climb.

“Now I wonder,” thought Jim, “whether the next time we tread this road it will be as free men once more. God grant us success this night, for if we fail there will be no second chance for us!”

The other officers seemed to be occupied with similar thoughts, for they examined the whole place and its surroundings very carefully as they ascended; evidently in order that, should the attempt be successful, they might be able to find their way down in the darkness. At last the summit was reached; but before the weary men could enjoy the rest of which they stood in such great need, they were obliged to unload the tents and provisions from the pack mules, the Peruvians being much to lazy to do anything for themselves. It was therefore about eight o’clock by the time that the tents were pitched and the evening meal prepared; and when the food was ready the prisoners ate as much as they could, for they did not in the least know where they would obtain their next meal. This having been done, the pots and pans had to be cleaned and put away; so that it was a tolerably weary company which at last sought its tents to lie down and rest.

But not to slumber. There was not a single Chilian among those to whom the plan had been revealed who closed his eyes, lest he should fall asleep and thus not be ready when the momentous signal should be given. Long before this it had been ascertained that there were but four keys for the purpose of locking and unlocking the prisoners’ manacles; one being held by the captain, while the other three were distributed in turn among the soldiers, being given to three different men every day, for the better security of the prisoners, and to make sure that there could be no tampering with the guards. Jim had been keeping his eyes very wide open all through the day, and he had noticed which of the Peruvians were the men who had the keys in their possession that night, while he had also carefully marked the positions where they had thrown themselves down to sleep. Two of the soldiers had retired to a tent, but the third had fortunately elected to sleep in the open, as the night was very warm.

The plan arranged was for Jim and his group of manacled fellow-officers to crawl forward, and either kill or stun one of the gaolers—it would be too risky to tackle more than one—secure his key, unlock their own fetters, and then to go silently the rounds, setting free their companions. When all were at liberty they were to seize their shovels and pickaxes and with them attack the slumbering soldiery, killing as many as possible before they were fully awake and could seize their rifles. Should they be discovered before the work was complete, those who were free were to keep off the Peruvians while the remainder were set at liberty.

It sounded rather a barbarous scheme, but Jim could think of no other which would be at all likely to be successful; and he was by this time rendered altogether too hardened by privation and ill-treatment to feel very much pity for the callously brutal Peruvian guards. Besides, it was his life or theirs, and he had no difficulty in choosing.

The young Englishman waited until midnight, in order to allow the soldiers to get well asleep, and then he silently nudged his companions to make sure that all were awake. They all were,—very wide awake, too,—and, after a few low-voiced instructions from Douglas, the little body of men began to crawl away through the darkness, taking the utmost care that there should be no clanking of chains to betray their movements. Forward on hands and knees they went, all moving together; and they soon passed through the ranks of their comrades, who did not make a single movement while the gallant little band crawled past.

Soon they had left the Chilian part of the encampment behind; and a few minutes later, Jim, who was the leading man of the party, came abreast of the first Peruvian tent. The night was pitchy dark, although there was a young moon, for the sky was covered with dark, low-lying clouds. This was all the better, for it lessened the probability of their being seen by the sentries; but they had to exercise a great deal of caution to avoid colliding with and so disturbing any soldiers who had elected to sleep out in the open.

“Now,” whispered Jim, as they came abreast of a certain tent, looming up dim and ghostly in the darkness; “Pedrillo is sleeping just outside this tent. Forward, men; but carefully, for your lives. One false step now, and all will be lost. Come along, and remember—we must be quick and silent at—at the work which we have to do. There must not be so much as a single struggle.”

His companions now came up abreast of Douglas, instead of following in single file; and, still abreast, they crawled toward the slumbering custodian of the key. Nearer and nearer they drew, until only a few yards separated them from their prey, then only a few feet. They were almost within arm’s length of him now; silently they crept forward again, then they paused. The only sound was that caused by the heavy breathing of the victim and the soft, hissing breaths of his executioners. Now they crept forward again until they were close to the man; Jim plucked the sleeve of the Chilian nearest to him, and together they leaned over the gaoler.

“Now!” hissed Jim, and four men flung themselves upon the fellow’s body at the same moment that Douglas’s hands clutched his throat. There was a short quick scuffle, and it was all over.

In a second he had snatched the key from the dead man’s girdle and was feverishly unlocking his comrades’ fetters. Then they, in turn, unlocked his, and in less than five minutes the twelve men were all free. Back they sped to their own portion of the camp, and were soon unlocking their friends’ manacles, with the result that in less than twenty minutes at least half the Chilians were free, and stood, grasping their pickaxes and shovels, ready for the fight which was inevitable before they could get away.

Then a horrible thing happened.

Among the Chilians was a naval petty officer, a surly, cunning—faced creature whom nobody trusted, and from whom, therefore, all particulars of the plot had been kept secret. Jim had just inserted the key in his manacles, when this traitor shrieked at the top of his voice:

“Help! help! the Chilians are escaping!”

Why the fellow did it nobody ever knew, but it was surmised that, being too much of a craven himself to attempt to escape, he had hoped to purchase his own freedom by betraying his comrades. But he must have been mad to do such a thing, surrounded as he was by Chilians, for he might have felt certain that before assistance could reach him he would be dead.

The mischief, however, was done, and the slumbering camp was effectually alarmed. The sentries squibbed off their rifles, and then, reloading, began to blaze away into the Chilian encampment. The captain’s harsh voice was heard giving orders, and in a few seconds the Peruvian soldiers had formed up in line, fixed their bayonets, and were prepared to charge.

“Quick,” exclaimed Jim; “seize your shovels and pickaxes and repel their attack. I will help you. You, Manuel, take the key and free the others while we who are already free keep the Peruvians at bay. But be cool—keep calm, and all will be well; we will defend you.”

Tossing the key to Manuel, Jim seized a shovel, and put himself at the head of his men. “Charge! charge!” he roared, and the fifty free Chilians charged straight at the place where the Peruvians were known to be.

The next second a sanguinary and ferocious struggle had commenced in the darkness. The Peruvians, hearing the Chilians approach, had levelled their rifles, and poured a withering volley into the charging men, with murderous effect. But, their rifles once emptied, conditions were somewhat more equal, and for a quarter of an hour the combat raged furiously. But such an unequal contest could not last very long; the soldiers were able, during pauses in the struggle, to reload their rifles; and this being done, they mowed the Chilians down by dozens. Manuel did his work well, but the liberated men who straggled up, by twos and threes, did not prove a very valuable reinforcement for the prisoners.

Then, to crown all their misfortunes, the moon came out and flooded the battle-ground with light; and light was all that the Peruvians needed to enable them to turn a one-sided combat into a massacre. The Chilians, mowed down by the score, at last threw down their primitive weapons and called for quarter; but the soldiers, rendered still more ferocious by the sight and smell of blood, continued to fire into the defenceless prisoners until they were sated with slaughter. Then the hapless band was surrounded once more, and the unhurt and least seriously wounded men were manacled afresh. The mortally wounded were simply bayoneted as they lay, their friends being unable to stay the murderers’ hands.

At last it was all over; the casualties were counted up and the roll called. The Peruvians had lost but eleven men, all killed, whereas the Chilians were reduced to forty, all told, scarcely one of whom did not bear a more or less serious wound on his person. But the Peruvian captain was furious at what he called the “dastardly attack” of the Chilians on his men, and he swore to take a full and complete revenge when the next morning should arrive. The wretched men were then allowed to lie down once more and sleep—if they could; and thus the remaining hours of that ghastly night passed slowly away.

The next morning, as soon as day dawned, Captain Garcia-y-Garcia, having appointed a sergeant and a corporal to assist him, constituted himself and his two assistants into what he called a “court-martial,” and then proceeded to try the prisoners.

Jim he promptly pounced upon as the ringleader, and subjected the young Englishman to a short examination, which, however, was the merest farce, for the captain had already determined upon his fate. After a trial lasting, perhaps, five minutes, therefore, Jim was condemned to be shot before mid-day, as were nine more of his unfortunate companions. The remaining thirty Chilians were each sentenced to receive a flogging of a hundred lashes as soon as they arrived at the mines; and Captain Garcia-y-Garcia promised himself that he would be the man to supervise the punishment.

The ten men who were condemned to death were then separated from the rest of the troop, and were told to seat themselves on the ground at some little distance away, where they were at once surrounded by guards. Garcia-y-Garcia then selected a squad of twenty Peruvian soldiers, and told them off for the firing-party. They were then formed up in a single line and ordered to load their rifles with ball cartridge.

When everything was in readiness, the ten unfortunate prisoners were brought forward and made to stand, also in line, with their backs against a huge rock which was to serve as a background; and Jim found himself, for the second time in his life, facing a firing-party and condemned to death. But this time there seemed to be no hope or possibility of reprieve. He was surrounded by cruel men who had no feelings save those of a brutal nature, and it seemed as though no power on earth could save him.

Jim was very thankful that no attempt was made to blindfold them, for he had had a bandage round his eyes on a previous occasion, and knew from experience that the suspense of waiting for the squad to fire, not knowing what they were doing meanwhile, was worse than death itself could possibly be.

At last the fatal moment came, and the unlucky men shook hands with one another in sad farewell. The doomed men then stood to attention, and the soldiers examined the breeches of their rifles to make sure that they were properly loaded.

Then came the word “Ready!” and the twenty rifles came up to the soldiers’ hips as though by machinery. At the second word of command the barrels glinted in the sun as the men planted the rifle-butts in the hollow of their shoulders. Jim involuntarily cast his eyes skyward as he waited for the final word, and his lips were seen to move slightly.

A painful pause—and then Garcia-y-Garcia’s voice rang out, loud, clear, and triumphant: “Fire!”

There was a simultaneous crash as the rifles were discharged, and Jim felt a sharp, stinging sensation in his left side and in his arm as he fell back upon the ground. A body fell a second after his own and lay right across his face, and Jim had actually put up his hand to push away the corpse before he realised that he was not at all severely hurt. He was recalled to his senses by hearing the captain’s voice commanding his men to reload and fire again into the heap of corpses, to “make assurance doubly sure,” as he put it, and Jim had presence of mind enough to abstain from making any further movement, though he suffered agonies of suspense while waiting for the second discharge.

It came at last, and Douglas escaped yet a second time, although the body lying above his own was riddled with bullets. The Englishman could feel now that the bullet which struck him had passed between his left side and his left arm, grazing both, but inflicting no injury worth speaking of. But would he escape after all, or would he have his brains blown out as he lay? The question was soon answered, for even as he was thinking about it, the body was hauled off his face and a soldier shouted: “Why, captain, here is a man who is still alive.”

Garcia-y-Garcia ran up and stood over Jim, looking down at him with eyes that glittered with savage menace. He half turned away to give the order for Jim’s death, when he checked himself. His expression gradually changed, and presently he spoke:

“No; I don’t think I’ll shoot you to-day, SeÑor ChileÑo, although I don’t know that I may not change my mind later. However, I will spare you this once, for you deserve to escape death after having been shot at twice. Get up!”

Hardly able to believe his ears, Jim rose to his feet, and was immediately secured to the chain once more. Then, still in a dream, he heard the command given to march, and the sadly depleted company moved down the side of the knoll, leaving nearly seventy unburied corpses lying on its summit. How very differently things had looked yesterday at this hour, thought Jim: how sadly everything had changed! Between now and yesterday lay this blood-red day of Cuzco—a day which Jim knew he would never forget so long as he lived.

Chapter Eighteen.

Escaped!

This was indeed a sorry trick that fortune, that perverse jade, had played him, meditated Jim. The chances were, too, that the fugitive would take the same direction as Douglas himself, in which case they would probably both be captured. This thought gave wings to the young Englishman’s feet, and he went bounding away down the hill like a startled deer, thinking of nothing but getting to cover as quickly as possible. But the unfortunate fact was that there was no place within at least a mile where a man could be concealed, and Jim knew well that long ere he could reach the strip of forest on which he was keeping his eye, he would be in full view of the pursuers should they happen to come that way, which was more than probable.

Stay, though; were both fugitives taking the same direction? There was not so much clamour perceptible now, and Jim pulled up suddenly to listen, at the same time looking back along the way by which he had come. For a few seconds dead silence reigned, and Jim was beginning to congratulate himself that the Chilian had taken another course, when round the corner of the hill he saw a figure emerge, flying along at a tremendous pace, and leaping every obstacle that came in its way; a moment later he heard a renewed uproar of shouts and curses, and he observed that the other fugitive was heading directly for him, doubtless with the pursuers hard on his track.

Then, at this critical moment, an idea flashed through Jim’s brain. He did not believe that the fugitive had yet caught sight of him, while the soldiers would not reach the corner for a few seconds, he hoped. Like a man shot, Jim flung himself prone on the ground, and commenced to crawl toward a large boulder which he had just caught sight of, and in less than half a minute he was ensconced behind a rock which was just big enough to afford concealment to one man, if that man had the sense to remain perfectly motionless. Then, stretching himself flat upon the ground, Jim cautiously peered round the edge of the boulder, in order to keep an eye upon the escaping prisoner, for a plan had come into his head which he thought might possibly be successful, and which was certainly the only one which offered any hope of his being able finally to get clear away.

Douglas had suddenly remembered that he was wearing a Peruvian soldier’s uniform; and his idea was to allow the fugitive to pass him and then join in the chase, trusting to luck that the pursuers would mistake him for one of themselves. He would, of course, take care not to overtake the Chilian,—let the poor man get away if he could, by all means,—but he thought that if he could himself lead the pursuit, so to speak, he might be able gradually to out-distance the rest of the soldiers, and thus finally get clear away by allowing the Peruvians to imagine that he was still keeping up the pursuit. Should the man be caught, however, Jim trusted to being able to slip away unseen amid the excitement, especially if the capture should happen to take place anywhere near that strip of forest country a mile or so ahead.

A very few seconds sufficed to show Jim that he had not been seen by the Chilian, and that the latter did not intend to avail himself of such an insecure hiding-place as the rock afforded, for he went dashing past at full speed, leaving Jim about a hundred yards to the left.

Just as the man fled by, his heavy gasps for breath sounding marvellously loud in the still air, the first of his pursuers put in an appearance round the corner of the hill, a quarter of a mile away, carrying his carbine at the trail; and he was immediately followed by about a score more soldiers, who began to shout themselves hoarse as they came in sight of their quarry. Then several of the Peruvians pulled up, and, dropping on their knees, levelled their carbines and began to blaze away at the running man. Douglas prayed that the unhappy creature might not be hit, for if he were, it would bring the pursuit to an end in the precise spot where Jim could not possibly avoid being discovered; but he need not have been alarmed; the shooting was execrable, and the bullets flew everywhere but near the fugitive. Several of them flattened themselves against the face of the boulder behind which Douglas was lying, and one nearly blinded him with the dust which it threw up as it plugged into the earth just in front of his face.

The Peruvians did not keep up their target practice very long, for they found it impossible to hit the runner, and realised that he gained a lot of ground when they pulled up to fire. They therefore rose to their feet and dashed along in pursuit once more, only occasionally discharging their weapons pistol-wise in the hope of a lucky bullet finding its billet.

And now they were approaching the rock where Jim was concealed; in a very few seconds he must be prepared to act, and to act quickly too. They evidently had no idea that a second prisoner was so close to them, for, to the young man’s great relief, they were aiming to pass the rock at a distance of quite eighty yards. Closer and closer they came, and as they did so Jim gradually edged his way round the rock in such a manner as to keep out of their sight as far as was possible. Another moment’s suspense and the leading soldier had passed the rock without giving it so much as a glance. Then another and another man panted past, until presently the rearmost Peruvian went grunting and gasping by.

In a second Jim had sprung to his feet and was scudding along in the wake of the rearmost soldier, at the same time edging away to the right of the rock in such a manner as to bring him directly behind the group of Peruvians. Then he put on the pace a little, and found that he could easily outrun any of the soldiers, since he himself was quite fresh while they were already somewhat winded. He soon overtook the last soldier, and began to pass him, his heart in his throat with apprehension lest the fellow should recognise him as one of the Chilian officers, and shout his discovery to the rest. But the fellow, although somewhat astonished to find that there had been a comrade behind while he thought that he himself was the rearmost man, paid little attention to his supposed comrade, being too much out of breath to do much thinking. Douglas passed him, unsuspected, and meanwhile kept his eye on the Chilian, who, although obviously failing in speed, was rapidly nearing the belt of forest.

Jim then put on another spurt, and passed a second soldier, then another, and still another, without attracting any particular attention to himself; and a few minutes later he found that he was leading the entire party of pursuers. So far so good; his back was now presented to them all, and they had therefore no opportunity to recognise his features; yet while he ran he had a very unpleasant feeling that he might expect a bullet to strike him between his shoulder-blades at any moment. But the bullet did not come; and he could tell, by the diminishing sounds of trampling feet that he was still steadily drawing ahead of the rest of the soldiers. At this moment the Chilian plunged into the thick brushwood, and was, in a few seconds, lost to sight, while a yell of angry disappointment and execration went up from the pursuing soldiery.

“Now,” muttered Douglas to himself, “if that fellow only knows what he is about, and keeps cool, he should be able to make his escape without much difficulty.” And he too plunged forward at top speed, in order that he also might get into the wood well in advance of the soldiers; for his own chance of escape depended upon his being able to give his “comrades” the slip. A few seconds more, and Jim saw a small opening among the brushwood disclosing an Indian “bush-path”; it was along this that the Chilian had gone, and Douglas now himself dashed into the wood, tearing his hands, face, and clothes on the sharp thorns with which the path was bordered.

Once inside the wood he was out of sight of the Peruvians; and hope lent wings to his feet. He fairly flew along the narrow pathway until he felt he must soon catch up the Chilian, if the fellow were still ahead; but, even when Jim came to a comparatively long length of straight path, he was unable to see any one, and he soon came to the conclusion that the man had, very wisely, slipped away into the thick undergrowth to wait until the pursuit had gone past and darkness should come on. Douglas resolved that he would do likewise, and increased his pace still more, so that he might be out of sight before the soldiers should enter the straight length of path, where, of course, they would be able to see some distance ahead. The Englishman was lucky in finding an opening in the thick wall of brushwood, and he plunged into the brake just a second before the pursuing soldiery came in sight, making a tremendous noise as he broke a way for himself, which he fervently trusted would not be heard amid the uproar that the Peruvians themselves were creating.

As soon as he had got about ten yards from the path he flung himself down at full length upon the ground, in a little open space which was clear of thorns, to recover his breath and listen to the sounds of the pursuit. At the same time he examined the breach of his carbine and, finding it empty, loaded it, wondering at the carelessness of the guard from whom he had so recently taken it. For a second or two the noise of the runners came nearer and nearer; and then, suddenly, there was a loud cry of “Halt!” followed by a terrific shouting and hubbub, the snapping of small branches, the crackling of undergrowth trodden down, and then—the report of a carbine.

“Carrajo!” muttered Jim, “they have sighted that unfortunate Chilian, then! I wonder how it was that I passed without seeing him? Poor beggar! I am afraid that they won’t show him much mercy—nor me, either—if they catch me,” he added.

But there was no more shooting, and from various parts of the wood men were heard calling to each other; so Jim surmised that it must have been a false alarm, and that the Chilian was still undiscovered. The soldiers were yet rather too far distant for Jim to hear what they were shouting to one another, but presently they approached near enough for him to catch the words, and he found that they were inquiring of one another whether there were any signs of the fugitive, and whether “any one had seen that swift-running man who entered the wood first.” The replies were to the effect that the ChileÑo had not yet been sighted, and that the “runner”—that was, of course, Jim himself—had also mysteriously vanished, but that the latter must be somewhere about, and that they would soon come across him.

Douglas was beginning to fear that the last part of the remark might very soon prove only too true, for it was evident that the Peruvians were slowly but surely working their way through the wood toward the place where he was concealed. Observing, therefore, that the undergrowth was fairly thin ahead of him, he started to crawl along so as, if possible, to get out of the course of the beaters before they should arrive on the spot. Grasping his carbine so that his hand covered the trigger-guard—in order to avoid any accidental discharge in consequence of the trigger becoming caught in some trailing twig—he began to creep forward, making as little noise as possible, and being particularly careful to avoid disturbing the bushes any more than he could help. The soldiers, luckily for him, kept up an incessant shouting, so that he was able to guess pretty well their relative positions; and, after about five minutes’ slow progress through the brushwood, he came to the conclusion that he had at last got out of their way. There was, too, a nice little open space wherein he could lie hidden without being in momentary fear of being bitten by a snake, a particularly deadly species of which was known to swarm in that locality.

By this time Jim had recovered his breath, and was eagerly awaiting the moment when it would be safe to move, wondering whether or not he had better remain where he was until darkness set in, when he was dumbfounded to hear some one come crashing through the brake, apparently quite close by, and making straight toward him. It could not be the Chilian, for he would never be making all that disturbance—unless indeed he had gone mad under the stress of being hunted—so it must necessarily be a stray Peruvian soldier. Jim at once sprang to his feet and began to poke about among the bushes with the muzzle of his carbine, as though searching for somebody who might possibly be hidden among them, at the same time turning his back on the approaching man, who was still pushing his way through the bush and singing softly to himself as he came.

Presently the noise sounded very close indeed, then still closer, when suddenly it stopped altogether. Jim knew that the other had seen him, and was doubtless wondering what he was doing there; but he dared not turn round for fear of being recognised; so he continued to poke about among the bushes, as though unaware that any one was present. Then a rough voice, which Jim at once recognised as that of his old enemy, Captain Garcia-y-Garcia, broke the silence with an explosion of Spanish profanity and a desire to be informed why this particular unit of the forces should be thus wasting his time instead of joining in the pursuit of the fugitive.

Douglas at once realised that the captain must have come along some time after his men, and that he had probably only just entered the wood. He also realised that, directly he turned round, Garcia-y-Garcia would infallibly recognise him, in spite of the Peruvian private’s uniform which he was wearing. He could also see, out of the tail of his eye, the glitter of a drawn sword which the man carried in his hand. But it was necessary to act at once, for at any moment the fellow’s suspicions might be aroused, or the soldiers might come back, or—

Like a flash Douglas wheeled round, bringing the carbine up to his hip as he did so, and looked the officer full in the face; while his forefinger curled caressingly round the trigger. The captain’s life hung by a thread, and he knew it, for he had recognised Jim as an escaped prisoner the moment that the latter showed his face.

“Ah!” gasped Garcia, his face turning ghastly white, “it is that scoundrel of an Englishman! From whom have you stolen these clothes, seÑor?” he went on, at the same time taking a fresh grip of his sword-hilt and moving slightly nearer to Douglas.

It was a lucky thing for Jim that he had never removed his eyes from those of Garcia, for he saw the murder that was lurking in them. Garcia was but trying to put him off his guard by asking that question, and Jim saw it. He had barely time to raise his carbine when the officer’s sword flashed in the air and the next second would have smote full upon Douglas’s head. But the young man caught the blow on the barrel of his weapon, turning the blade aside, and at the same instant he pushed the muzzle of the carbine into Garcia’s face and pulled the trigger!

There was a sharp, ringing report, and the Peruvian fell backward among the bushes, with his head blown to pieces. Jim hastily pushed the corpse out of sight, reloaded his rifle, and then started to run as hard as he could; for he knew that the explosion could not possibly pass unnoticed in that echoing wood; and, indeed, he immediately heard a chorus of excited shouting coming from somewhere away on his left. He therefore picked up his heels and ran for his life. Luckily he came upon another path, running at right angles to the main path, and into this he plunged, stripping off his long military overcoat as he ran. After running for about ten minutes, and getting thoroughly out of breath, he stopped to listen; and, to his great relief, found that all sounds had died away, and that the part of the wood where he found himself was as still as the grave.

He therefore pressed on again, but not so fast as before, and in half an hour’s time he fancied that the wood was beginning to grow less dense, and that he was therefore coming to its boundary; but it proved to be only a large wind-gap in the forest, across which he made his way as quickly as possible, striking into a still denser part of the wood on the other side. It was by this time beginning to grow dark, and Jim was considering ruefully the prospect of having to spend the night in the forest when he thought he heard a slight noise somewhere among the trees near him. He at once brought his rifle to the “ready,” and glared about him, searching the wood with his glances to see who or what the intruder might be. The next moment he sprang behind a tree; for it was certain that there was somebody close at hand. It could hardly be a Peruvian soldier so far away from his friends, thought Jim; moreover, the individual was treading stealthily, as though in fear of being heard. The next moment the fugitive Chilian pushed his way cautiously into the path, looking warily to right and left as he did so. Douglas immediately sprang out from his hiding-place, nearly scaring the man to death for a moment. The Chilian proved to be an officer who had formerly been on board the O’Higgins, and he and Douglas recognised each other instantly.

They at once sat down to talk matters over, and Jim soon found that his friend knew this part of the country very well, having been there before; and that he had decided to make for Arica, which was at this time in Chilian hands. Jim readily fell in with the plan, and after a good long rest the two men started away upon their arduous journey. They camped for the night on the outskirts of the wood, which they reached about midnight, and there made a meal off the provisions which each had been thoughtful enough to bring. These provisions lasted them a week, by which time they were approaching the region where they might hope to find the Chilian outposts. But they had either miscalculated the distance, or the Chilians had retreated, for it was another week before they finally came into contact with a Chilian force at Tacna; and, meanwhile, they had had to procure food at the muzzle of Jim’s carbine, for the country-folk soon perceived that the two fugitives were escaped Chilian prisoners.

As soon, however, as they fell in with Colonel Barros, in command of the first company of the Taltal regiment, stationed at Tacna, their troubles were over. He at once provided them with mules and a small escort, at the same time lending them as much money as he could spare. And after a stay of three days with this hospitable and kindly man they took their departure, arriving at Arica two days later; and there, before their eyes as they came in sight of the harbour, lay the Blanco Encalada, the Chilian flagship, a sight which Jim thought the finest that he had ever seen. The O’Higgins was there also, together with three other ships; and the two scarecrows lost no time in repairing on board their respective vessels.

Jim Douglas’s reception on board was one which he will remember all his life. He was instantly shouldered by his brother officers and carried off to the ward-room, where he was made to detail all his adventures, the captain and admiral being at the moment ashore. It was nearly midnight before Jim had finished; and, the admiral being still ashore, he retired to his bunk and slept the sleep of the utterly weary.

The next thing he knew was that he was being violently shaken, while a voice cried, “Rouse up, amigo; rouse up! The admiral has just come on board; and, having been informed of your return, desires to see you immediately. Hurry up! for I believe, from the look of the old gentleman, that he has something good in store for you. It’s just nine o’clock, and he breakfasts in ten minutes; so look sharp.”

Jim did “look sharp.” He dragged a uniform out of his chest, slipped it on, and in less than ten minutes was standing shaking hands with Admiral Riveros.

Chapter Nineteen.

A Guerilla Stronghold.

“Buenas dias, SeÑor Douglas,” said the old gentleman heartily; “sit down and tell me all about yourself and your doings since the memorable night when you left the Blanco Encalada. I feared that you, with all the rest of the crew of the Janequeo, had perished in Callao harbour, or fallen into the hands of the Peruvians—which is even worse, so they tell me. I am indeed glad to see you back again, my young friend. Now proceed with your report, seÑor, if you please.”

Thus commanded, Jim plunged into a fairly full and detailed recital of all that had befallen him since he had left the flagship, only pausing in his narrative when Riveros wished to be enlightened upon some point or other. The admiral continually nodded approbation of what Douglas had done; and the lad noticed that he paid particular attention to the account of the silver mine at Sorata, and Jim’s description of the country thereabout. When the young Englishman had finished his report, which he did in the course of about an hour, Riveros suddenly said:

“Then I may take it, SeÑor el Teniente, that you are pretty well acquainted with the country about Sorata? Did you, by any chance, see or hear anything of a village called Coroico during your captivity, or while you were escaping?”

“Coroico?” mused Jim; “let me see—yes, sir; I seem to remember hearing the place spoken of by a warder with whom I contrived to become friendly—the man whose uniform I took the small liberty of appropriating, you will remember. He said that a Bolivian force was collecting near there, for the purpose, I believe, of making raids into the newly acquired Chilian territory.”

“Exactly! Just so,” replied Riveros; “that is the matter in a nutshell. Now listen to me for a few moments, please. As you are aware, we have practically destroyed the naval power of Peru; and we have also made short work of her armies wherever we have come into contact with them. In a word, Peru is almost at the end of her resources; and the Government is ready to come to terms, allowing us to keep the territory we have newly acquired along the sea-coast, namely, that strip of land reaching, roughly, from Papos to Arica. So far, so good. A small portion of that territory, however, belonged to Bolivia, which is, as you know, the ally of Peru. Now, the Bolivian Government is also ready to surrender that land; but a large portion of the population will not hear of it being given up, since their only port, Antofagasta, is situated upon it. These—rebels, I suppose I may call them, are trying to displace the president of Bolivia in order to put in power a man who will not accede to the Chilian demands; but Dr Ladislao Cabrera is too strong for the rebels, and still retains his office.

“Having therefore been foiled in that direction, a force of Bolivians has been collected by a noted guerilla leader named Bajos; and this force, amounting to about a couple of thousand men, has entrenched itself in a strong position near Coroico, whence frequent destructive raids are being made into our newly won territory. They burn and slay wherever they go; in fact they leave a trail of blood and ashes behind them plain enough for anybody to follow. Mercy seems a thing absolutely unknown among these desperadoes; and instead of carrying on their warfare in a civilised manner, they are committing the most dreadful atrocities on all Chilians, both civil and military, who fall into their hands. Now, these men are a menace which we cannot tolerate; for, unless the band is rooted out and utterly destroyed, there will never be peace or safety in the northern part of Chili. This has been a somewhat long introduction to what I have to say, teniente, but it was necessary, in view of the remarks which I am about to make.

“As I say, the work of the navy is practically finished; but we are very short of men in the army; for the army has to cover a large extent of country. I have therefore decided to transfer you from the navy to the army, and to send you, at the head of five hundred men, against these outlaws. You are acquainted with the country; and you have always carried out most satisfactorily such work as I have given you to do. More than that number of men cannot, as I understand, be spared. Five hundred against two thousand is heavy odds, I admit; but much will depend upon the man who is in charge of the smaller force; and I have no hesitation in saying that I do not think I could have chosen a better man for the purpose than yourself.”

Jim bowed and murmured his thanks. “Now,” resumed Riveros, “the force is actually ready, and is waiting to start on its march. If you had not turned up in the nick of time I should have been obliged to send another man; for this is a matter that cannot wait. Since you are here, however, I shall be glad if you will start for Coroico at once. I am sorry to be obliged to send you away so soon, for you deserve a long rest after all that you have gone through; but perhaps this commission as captain in the army which I have procured for you may be some slight recompense for what you have been obliged to endure. Should you bring this expedition to a satisfactory issue, I think I can promise that you will be raised to the rank of major. That is all, I think. And now, SeÑor Douglas, the sooner you get away the better. Dios guarde al Usted! Any further particulars which you may desire to know will be given you by Captain Simpson; you will find him in his cabin. A Dios, seÑor, À mas ver!”

The kindly but extremely busy old gentleman pushed Jim out of the cabin without giving him an opportunity to express the gratitude he felt for the promotion and the trust reposed in him, and he made his way at once to Simpson’s cabin, in order to get all the information possible relative to the forthcoming expedition. When he emerged, an hour or so later, he was beaming with joy and pleasureable anticipation; for he found that the task was likely to be a very difficult one; in consequence of which he had been provided with a squadron of the Guias cavalry, together with a couple of field-pieces, which Simpson had told him he would find very necessary. He quickly packed up his slender baggage, and, after saying good-bye to his comrades, had himself rowed ashore. There his first move was made to the establishment of a military tailor, where he procured his new uniform and weapons; then he paid a visit to the cavalry barracks, selected a charger for himself, inspected his troop, and gave orders for them to be ready for an early start on the morrow. They were a fine-looking lot of men, and Jim felt that they were just the sort of fellows for an expedition of this kind.

The following morning at seven o’clock Douglas rode into the parade ground, and found his men already drawn up, together with the two field-pieces; and half an hour later the little army clattered out of the barrack-yard into the streets, past the plaza, out of the north gate, and swung into the road which led north-eastward toward Lake Titicaca, reaching La Paz four days after leaving Arica. They stayed here one day, leaving on the following morning, and by nightfall the force was at the foot of the mountains which they would have to traverse before reaching Sorata. Here they camped for the night, pushing forward the next day right into the heart of the mountains, which, at this altitude, were clothed with thick pine forests, and cut up by mountain torrents spanned by narrow and frail bridges, across which it was a very difficult and supremely dangerous task to transport the horses and the guns.

They had been among the mountains a week, and were approaching fairly close to Coroico; Jim therefore took the precaution to throw out scouts in all directions round his little force, in order to prevent surprise; and one evening, just before darkness began to settle down, one of the men came riding in to say that he had caught sight of a small body of Bolivians hovering among the hills about a mile to the right of the main body. “Evidently,” thought the young commander, “the guerillas are expecting some such expedition as this, and have thrown out their outposts; there will therefore be little hope of taking them by surprise.” However, as there was no further alarm, and as darkness was fast closing down, orders were given for the camp to be pitched for the night; and very soon the horses were picketed and the men were under canvas, sentries were posted, and everything was made snug and comfortable for the night.

About nine o’clock, feeling greatly fatigued, Jim turned into his tent, and, wrapping himself in his heavy overcoat, threw himself down on the ground, determined to get to sleep early that he might feel fresh and fit for the next morning, when they might reasonably expect to get into touch with the enemy. But try as he might, and tired as he was, sleep refused to visit him, and the harder he tried the wider awake did he become. He also found that he was rapidly becoming obsessed by a horrible feeling that all was not right, that there was some unknown but terrible danger hovering over the sleeping camp. He strove to dispossess his mind of such fancies by assuring himself that sentries were posted everywhere, and that therefore the camp would be early alarmed in the event of an attack being made; but it was all to no purpose; the presentiment only held him the more firmly in its embrace. He had just looked at his watch and discovered that it was midnight, and that he had been tossing and tumbling for three hours, when his ears caught a very faint sound, coming apparently from some distance away.

Douglas sprang to his feet in a moment, and striding to the flap of his tent, bent all his energies to the task of listening intently. Yes, there it was again! It was coming from the direction of a wooden suspension bridge which spanned a broad ravine, and which the force had crossed about a quarter of an hour before camping down; and it took the form of heavy, muffled blows of iron against wood.

“Hallo!” exclaimed Douglas, “there is something wrong here! but what are the sentries doing?”

In a second he had belted on his sword and revolver, and plunged out of the tent in the direction from which the sound was coming, and a few minutes later arrived at the place where the sentry should have been standing; but there was no sign of the man—he was nowhere to be seen.

“Caramba!” exclaimed Jim, “I believe there has been foul play here!” and he began to hunt about among the undergrowth for some sign of the missing man. The next moment he stumbled over something soft, and fell upon his knees, putting out his hands to save himself. They came in contact with a rough overcoat, and in an instant Jim knew it for that of the sentry. Somewhat incautiously Jim struck a match, and saw at once what had happened to the poor fellow; he had been murdered by having a dagger driven between his shoulders!

“By Jove!” gasped the Englishman, “there has been foul treachery here. Aha!” he continued, starting to his feet, “what is that?”

His exclamation was occasioned by a sudden booming crash coming from the direction of the suspension bridge over which his force had passed before camping, and, with a sense of imminent disaster clutching at his heart, he dashed forward in the direction of the chasm, leaving the sentry to the tender mercies of the vultures. Jim came in sight of the bridge—or, rather, its remains—a few seconds later, and saw at once what had happened. The dull, chopping noise which had first attracted his attention had been caused by axe-strokes, and the bridge had been cut through from the farther side, allowing it to fall into the ravine. In a moment the significance of the occurrence flashed into Douglas’s mind. What if the place whereon they were camped should prove to be a sort of island between the ravines? And suppose the farther bridge, their only way of escape, should also have been destroyed?

Like a hare Jim doubled on his tracks and fled back to the camp, which he found already alarmed by the noise of the falling bridge, and a few seconds sufficed to warn the men of what had occurred, and to arouse in them a sense of imminent peril. Horses were saddled, bugles rang out, tents were struck, the guns limbered up, and in ten minutes the force was dashing along at top speed toward the next bridge, which they now realised could not be very far away.

As they galloped, Jim suddenly caught the sound of chopping in the distance ahead, and he urged his men to greater speed, the column sweeping along over the rough ground like a whirlwind. And they were only just in time! Round a bend in the road Douglas caught sight of a score of flickering lights, and saw another ravine looming dim and black in the semi-darkness. Were they in time? Was the bridge still intact? wondered the Englishman.

“Halt! Halt!” he yelled; “halt, for your lives!”

With a clatter and scraping of hoofs, a chorus of hoarse shouts, and a terrific whirl of dust, the troopers pulled up, and Jim saw on the opposite edge of the cleft a party of Bolivian guerillas hacking furiously away with axes at the bridge.

“Forward with the guns!” was now the word, and a few seconds later the two field-pieces were dragged to the front and fire opened on the outlaws, to which they replied with a furious fusillade of rifle-bullets, several of the Chilian cavalry falling under that murderous fire. But Jim now ordered the guns to be loaded with canister shot instead of solid, and the guerillas were unable to face that storm of missiles. The men with the axes dropped their tools and took to their heels into the forest—those of them who were unwounded, that is to say—while the greater part fell dead and dying into the ravine. Then gradually the riflemen themselves retreated, keeping up a galling fire the whole time; and, from their evident reluctance to retire, Douglas guessed that they must have a strong reinforcement somewhere close at hand.

There was therefore no time to be lost if they were to get across unmolested, and Jim was himself the first to go over to the other side and examine the bridge, to see whether it was still in a condition to bear the passage of the horses and guns. Luckily, the guerillas had only just begun operations upon the structure, and it was hardly weakened at all; he therefore gave the signal to his men on the opposite side, and in half an hour the whole force was safely across. But it was quite evident that they were in a very perilous situation and completely surrounded by Bolivians. Jim therefore called a council of war, composed of his officers, the result of which was a unanimous decision to press forward at all hazards and strike a paralysing blow at the guerillas before they were fully prepared for it, if possible. Jim’s force could not be very far away now from the Bolivian stronghold; indeed, they might come upon it at any moment, for the gigantic peak of Sorata was well in sight, and Jim took his bearings from that.

Forward they pressed, therefore, going as fast as their horses could carry them over the rough, rock-encumbered ground, and taking care to keep scouts thrown out all round the main body. But, strangely enough, they saw no further signs of the outlaws, and Jim was beginning to wonder where the force that was trying to destroy the bridge could have hidden itself, when, away in the distance ahead, he heard a piercing shriek of intense agony. There was then a pause of a few seconds, but immediately afterwards scream after scream went wailing up into the air! Jim clenched his teeth and drove the spurs into his horse, crying, as he did so: “Follow me, half a dozen of you; there is some more foul work going on ahead of us!”

Six men immediately spurred their horses out of the press and followed Jim at full speed, the little squad of men experiencing no difficulty in finding the direction in which to go, for the piercing shrieks were now becoming incessant. After five minutes or so of hard riding, Jim came within sight of a ruddy glare of light shining ahead among the trees, and he at once guessed what was going forward. Almost directly afterwards the seven horsemen burst into an open glade, at the far end of which was gathered a group of men, who immediately fled into the thick brushwood at the approach of the cavalry; not, however, before Jim had caught sight of their uniforms, which were those worn by the Bolivian guerillas. At the end of the clearing a large fire had been built in the form of a circle, in the centre of which stood a stout wooden stake driven into the earth, and to this stake was lashed an Indian who, poor creature, was being slowly roasted to death.

Jim and his men threw themselves from their horses, and, drawing their swords, promptly began to clear away the burning wood with their blades; and the moment that the circle was broken, Jim dashed through the opening, cut the ropes which bound the wretched Indian to the stake, and carried him out into the open, where the poor creature was laid down on the ground and given a canteen of water, which he drained eagerly, immediately begging for more. This was given him, and Douglas proceeded to examine his injuries just as the Chilian main body rode up. To his satisfaction, Jim found that the man was suffering from nothing more serious than a severe scorching, and he guessed that it must have been the anticipation of torture which had made the Indian send up those heartrending screams. As soon as the poor wretch had recovered from the shock which he had sustained, Jim questioned him as to how he came to be in such a situation, and was told that the man, whose name, by the way, was JosÉ, had been a guide in the guerilla service. The Bolivians believed that it was impossible for anybody to find the way to their stronghold unassisted, and therefore, as soon as the Chilian cavalry appeared, they had suspected treachery on the part of somebody, their suspicion focussing itself in this case upon the unfortunate JosÉ. They had therefore put him to the torture, partly as punishment, and partly to make him disclose the strength of the attacking force, which the guerillas averred he must certainly know, since there was no doubt that he had been in communication with it. It was useless, said the Indian, for him to assert his innocence and his inability to supply the information required; he was simply not believed, or perhaps it was that the Bolivians were glad of an excuse for exercising their cruel instincts. The latter, thought Jim, was the more likely cause. JosÉ, having finished the recital of his adventure, now flung himself at Douglas’s feet, praying that el seÑor capitan would not abandon him in this place, where he would certainly be again captured, but that “His Excellency” would take him into his service. If he would but do that, JosÉ averred he would be a faithful and true servant to his rescuer for the remainder of his life: he would ask no reward for his services; he would only ask to be allowed to be near Jim—to be his own private bodyguard, and, in short, to do everything that he possibly could to show his gratitude for his timely deliverance.

Jim listened in silence to this outburst, and then somewhat inconsequently inquired: “Do you know whereabout this guerilla fort is situated, JosÉ?”

“Yes, seÑor, I do,” replied the man; “it is not more than a mile away from here, and I can lead you to the place by way of a road which the Bolivians would never suspect you of knowing.”

“Then,” said Jim, “I will take you into the Chilian service as a guide, and you can be my own personal servant as well, if you choose. Only be careful that you play no tricks with me, or I will hang you from the nearest tree. Now, I think you are well enough to walk, are you not? Yes; very well, then; lead the way, JosÉ, to this road of which you speak; the sooner we root out this nest of rebels and outlaws the better!”

JosÉ did not, as Jim had expected, burst into a torrent of protestations of fidelity; he simply bowed his head and placed the young Englishman’s hand upon it, in token of submission, and then said quietly:

“If, Excellency, you will follow me, and also give orders for your men to ride as silently as possible, I will lead you, undiscovered, to the fort in less than half an hour. The road is not very good, it is true; but everything has been prepared for your reception at the other approach, and I can tell you that you would never have stormed the stronghold had you gone by that route.”

All being now in readiness, the men again mounted, and, with the Indian walking in front, swung away to the right, finding themselves in a few minutes upon a rough but wide road traversing the edge of a ravine, the inner side of the path being bounded by a high cliff which leaned outward until its top edge actually overhung the chasm, so that it was impossible for any one at the top to molest a force passing along the road by hurling rocks down upon it. As the Indian had remarked, the road was undoubtedly rough; they could not therefore get along very rapidly; but the half-hour had not quite expired when JosÉ laid his finger on his lips and held up his hand as a sign for the troop to halt.

“Now, mi libertador,” said the man, “we have managed to make the journey undetected. The fort is round the bend which you see in the road, and lies among the brushwood a little to the left of it. There is a broad slope leading up from the road to a gate in the fort which is small and very seldom used. The guerillas will not expect an attack from that quarter, for they are looking for you to approach from the opposite direction. Horses will be of little or no use for the attack; but if you can run up your guns, you will be able to blow in the small gate and rush into the fort over its ruins before the Bolivianos can offer any resistance.”

Jim accordingly dismounted his men, telling them, however, to take their carbines with them; and the horses were hobbled. The guns were then unlimbered and loaded, when the pieces were dragged quietly along the road by the men; and presently the whole force drew up, just out of sight of the fort, ready to make their rush as soon as Douglas gave the signal. This he did by waving his sword, so as to obviate the necessity for shouting a command, and then swiftly the men swept out beyond the concealment of the cliff into the open space fronting the fort, dragging the field-pieces with them, which were immediately levelled at the gate and fired.

When the Chilians dashed into view, there was a sentry on the roof of the fort, and he immediately squibbed off his rifle; but the alarm was given too late; the report of his rifle was drowned in the roar of the guns, and the splintering and rending of the fort gate was the first intimation afforded the guerillas that the enemy was upon them—from a different quarter from that whence he was expected. Over the ruined gates dashed the Chilians, discharging their carbines as they went, and as they entered the fort they threw down their rifles and drew their sabres.

Then began a fight most grim and terrible. The Bolivians outnumbered their assailants by about four to one, but the latter had the advantage of a complete surprise, and they mowed down the savage guerillas by the score. There was a passage leading from the gate to the interior of the fort, but this was soon very nearly choked with dead and wounded. Jim therefore rallied his men for another charge before the way should be quite closed, and, with a cheer, his brave fellows forced a passage through for themselves, cutting down all who opposed them. So completely were the outlaws taken by surprise that many of them had not found time to arm themselves, and were therefore slaughtered like so many sheep. The promise of success, on the other hand, spurred the Chilians on to still further effort, and in another ten minutes they had struck such terror into the hearts of the defenders of the stronghold that the guerillas flung down their arms and cried for quarter; and thus at last the tide of death was stopped.

The guerillas were then disarmed and imprisoned in batches in the prison cells which they had so carefully prepared for others, while their arms were collected and destroyed, and the fort was in the hands of the Chilians. The terror of the surrounding country had been brought to nothing at last, and there would be no more savage raids and midnight massacres.

A messenger was at once dispatched to La Paz to acquaint the Government with the fact of the capture and downfall of the guerilla band, with a request that a body of Bolivian troops might be dispatched to take charge of the prisoners. Jim determined, however, not to hand over the fort, although it was situated in Bolivian territory, until he should receive definite instructions so to do from headquarters; for he did not know what new boundaries Chili proposed to arrange as the limits to the country which she had acquired by conquest from the two republics; and he thought it more than probable that his Government would decide to retain the fort, since it occupied such a very commanding position.

He therefore in due time handed over the eight hundred prisoners—the rest of the band having been killed—to the Bolivian troops; who immediately returned with them to La Paz. Meanwhile Jim repaired the fort sufficiently to provide accommodation for his own troops, with whom he temporarily garrisoned the place. Then he sent a messenger on horseback to Arica to report the success which had been obtained, and to ask for instructions as to what he was to do with the fort.

Meanwhile the young Englishman made up his mind that he was in for at least a fortnight’s sojourn in the fort, or until such time as his messenger should return from Arica; and he began to cast about for some means by which to while the time away.