It had been decided, should Admiral Cervera's fleet be discovered in Santiago Bay, that Commodore Schley should unload the collier _Merrimac_ as quickly as possible, and then sink the craft directly across the channel at the narrow entrance. If this was accomplished, it would make it impossible for the Spanish warships to escape until the sunken wreck was blown up and cleared away, and in the meantime several other available American vessels could be hurried to the scene of action. A number of spies had been sent ash.o.r.e, and at last the commodore was positive that the enemy was just where he wanted him. "And now we'll sink the _Merrimac_ and bottle him up," he said.

The _Merrimac_ was an iron steamboat of five thousand tons' burden. She had previously been a "tramp" steamer; that is, one going from port to port, picking up any cargo that came to hand. She carried a large quant.i.ty of coal for the various ships, and, as we already know, had followed the Flying Squadron from Key West to Cienfuegos and the present ocean territory. She was a heavily built craft, carrying two masts, and just the right sort for the plan now at hand.

A heavy salute on the morning of June 1 announced the coming of Admiral Sampson with a number of additional warships,--the _New York_, _Oregon_, _Mayflower_, _Porter_, and others. The _New York_, it may be added here, was a cruiser, similar to the Brooklyn, only somewhat smaller. The _Oregon_ was a battleship of the first cla.s.s, of over ten thousand tons'

displacement, and carried four 13-inch, eight 8-inch, and four 6-inch guns in her main battery, over twenty guns in her secondary battery, besides several Gatling guns and three torpedo tubes. This n.o.ble vessel had just made a record for herself by steaming, at full speed, from San Francisco, around Cape Horn, to our eastern coast, without a break-down,--a journey without precedent for a heavy battleship, so far as our own navy was concerned. In the past, foreign critics had imagined that our vessels were not quite as good as theirs in thoroughness of build; now these critics were silenced, and they stood looking on, and wondering what those "clever Yankees" would do next.

The _Merrimac_ had been under the command of Captain James Miller, but now she was eased of a large quant.i.ty of her coal, and turned over to Lieutenant Richmond P. Hobson, an a.s.sistant naval constructor. Hobson had his plans arranged in detail for sinking the _Merrimac_, and all he asked for was a crew of six or seven men, to aid him in running the collier into the harbor channel. "I know it looks like certain death to go in," he said, "and therefore I want only volunteers with me."

"You can get them easily enough," said Rear-Admiral Sampson, with a smile. "I know a hundred men on the _New York_ who will be only too anxious to go, no matter how dangerous the mission." Volunteers were called for, and, to the credit of our navy, be it said, that the crews of the different ships offered themselves almost to a man.

"We can die only once," said one old gunner; "take me!"

"I'd like to go, captain," said Caleb, appealing to Captain Cook. "Can't you put me on the list somehow?"

"I'll go," said Walter, readily, and Si said the same. Paul was so young that he knew they would not take him.

Of course where only seven men were wanted and hundreds had begged to be allowed to go there were numerous disappointments. At last the list was made up of the following--names to be remembered by every patriotic young American: Lieutenant Hobson, in command; O. W. Deignan, helmsman; G. F. Phillips, engineer; F. Kelley, fireman; J. Murphy, c.o.xswain; G.

Charette, mine batteries; D. Montague, anchor hand; R. Clausen, extra wheelman. The men were all experienced sailors, and fully realized the extreme peril which awaited them, when they should run the _Merrimac_ in directly under the fire of Morro Castle and the La Zocapa battery.

A start was made late on Wednesday night, the _Merrimac_ cruising up and down before the harbor entrance, trying to gain a favorable opportunity for entering. But none showed itself, and by orders of the rear-admiral the attempt was postponed until the night following. In the meantime a catamaran was built and attached to the _Merrimac's_ side, to be used in getting away in case the small boats became disabled when the craft was wrecked.

CHAPTER XVII

IN WHICH THE "MERRIMAC" IS SUNK

"It's too bad we can't get places on the _Merrimac_," observed Walter to Si, as the two walked to their quarters after the selection of men had been made. "If Lieutenant Hobson succeeds in getting the collier up in the harbor entrance and sinking her, it will be a big feather in his cap."

"My idea is that the heavy guns of old Morro will blow the _Merrimac_ clean out of the water before she gets within quarter of a mile of where she is to be sunk," answered the Yankee lad. "Those on board are running the greatest risk of their lives."

"But the glory, Si!"

"No glory if you're killed."

"But you said you would go."

"So I would--but I wouldn't expect to come back alive. I'll wager we never see Hobson again, nor none of his men."

The fierce heat of the day had given Walter a headache. As evening came on it grew worse, and he was not able to sleep during the night.

"I hope I'm not getting the Cuban fever," he remarked to Caleb, who had offered several simple remedies ready at hand.

"Better report and go on the sick list," advised the old gunner. "If it's fever, the sooner you take it in hand the better."

At first Walter demurred, but finally, as the ache in his head began to creep all over him, he reported to one of the surgeons. "I don't want to go into the sick bay," he said, "but I wish you would give me something."

"Yes, you need something," was the answer. "We don't want any men to get down so soon. We may have to stay on the blockade here for some time, if Cervera refuses to come out and fight us."

"Or we block him in with the wreck of the _Merrimac_," said Walter, with a faint smile.

"Oh, that will be only a temporary check, to give Admiral Sampson time to get his fleet into shape and give the army authorities time to send on an army of invasion. The army is already gathering at Tampa," replied the surgeon.

The medicine was forthcoming, and Walter was at once given a big dose and told to repeat every two hours. "It has quinine in it and will make your ears ring and your head buzz, but that won't hurt you," said the surgeon. "If you feel worse by to-morrow morning, report to me again."

This was at eight o'clock. By noon Walter felt as if a buzz saw was in full operation in his head, while he could not hear at all. But he continued to take the medicine, and rested in a hammock slung up in the coolest spot to be found between decks.

"Oh dear!" he murmured, when left alone. "How my head does spin around!

If I get very sick, whatever will become of me?" And he buried his face in his jacket sleeve, to suppress a groan that was bound to come.

By nightfall he was worse, if anything, and both Caleb and Si advised him to go into the sick bay for further treatment. But he shook his head. "No, I reckon I can stand it till morning," he said. "There may be a turn for the better by that time."

Midnight found him on deck, under the impression that the fresh night air would do him some good. To tell the truth, he was hardly responsible for what he was doing, for his head was in a worse whirl than at any time previous. He staggered to the side and leaned over. The warship rose and fell on the bosom of the ocean, and the water danced and twinkled before his eyes. n.o.body was near him.

How it all happened he could never tell afterward. He must have leaned over too far, or slipped, for suddenly he seemed to awake as by a shock, and felt himself going down and down into the greenish element which washed up against the _Brooklyn's_ sides. He tried to scream, but his mouth filled with water and he could only splutter.

When at length he arose to the surface, the waves had carried him a hundred feet away from the ship. He tried to cry out, but he was too weak to utter more than a whisper. He threw out his hands and began to swim in a mechanical way. But instead of carrying him back whence he had come, the mighty waves lifted him closer and closer to sh.o.r.e.

Ten minutes had pa.s.sed, and Walter felt that he could keep up no longer, when he came into contact with a large box which had at one time been filled with naval stores, but which, on being emptied, had been thrown overboard from one of the warships. The box was over four feet in length and built of heavy slatting, and afforded a fair degree of buoyancy.

Lying across the top of the receptacle he floated on, wondering in a bewildered way how this strange adventure was going to end.

"If only I could get to one of our ships," he thought. "If I don't, I must either drown or else be cast up on the coast, in which case the Spaniards will most likely capture me. If I--Oh, there is a ship now!"

Walter was right; a two-masted vessel was bearing directly down upon him. The vessel carried no lights and moved along as silently as a ghost.

"I'll be run down!" was the boy's agonizing thought, when, on coming within a few hundred feet, the craft began to turn in a small circle.

Then, when halfway around, her engines came to a stop and she drifted idly on the waves.

A chain was dangling from the vessel's stern. It was but three yards away, and making a frantic leap Walter clutched it and hung fast.

Scarcely had this been accomplished than the steamer moved off again, dragging him behind her.

In his weak state it is a wonder that Walter was not compelled to relinquish his hold; but life is sweet to us all, and he hung on grimly, and setting his teeth, began to climb up the chain hand over hand. In a few minutes he reached the taffrail, fell, rather than climbed, over, and dropped unconscious on the deck.

How long he lay in this state Walter did not know. He came to his senses to find himself being shaken by somebody bending over him.

"What are you doing here?" was the rough demand. "Don't you know that all of the regular crew were ordered off at three o'clock?"

"I--I--where am I?" stammered Walter, sitting up.

"Where are you? Don't you know?"

"No, sir."

"You're on board of the _Merrimac_."

"The _Merrimac_!" echoed the boy, and attempted to rise to his feet. He was still very weak, but otherwise his involuntary bath had done him much good.