"I will find my way to it," he said in his heart; "or at least find out where it is. I will uncover the secret power that works this destruction, or find out the monster's weak points and give knowledge of it to the Commodore."

He had now reached the Ram. He swept above the prow. No opening there!

He hovered over the deck. All hard and smooth there! He skimmed along the sides. No port-holes, no seams, no sign of break or opening there.

He flew past the side, and hung in the air above the vessel's stern. A dart whistled by his face. He felt the vibrations of the air on his cheek.

"Hah! There is an opening then in your solid sh.e.l.l? That dart came from some vent. Let us see!"

He pressed his gallant nag closer to the Ram. His keen eye caught the varnished curtain that hung across the stern. He saw one side of it tremble and lift a little as he circled about it. The weak point in the sea monster was exposed! Hurrah! He would try the metal of a Brownie cutla.s.s against that varnished curtain! If he could cut that open, the waves would rush into the hull, and the Ram would sink into the lake with the n.o.ble barks that it had destroyed.

Lawe tightened his bridle reins as he thus meditated, and drew his cutla.s.s. He dropped a little astern of the Ram, but well to the port side, so that he might sweep straight across the stern. He poised himself firmly, bent over in the saddle, and cried, "Go, my good nag!"

Golden Rule, as his pony was named, sprang to the voice of his master as though conscious of what depended upon him. He pa.s.sed across the stern of the Ram so closely that his wings almost touched it.

Whi--rr--rr!

The Ensign's sword ripped through the curtain, and Golden Rule shot by like an arrow.

Quickly Lawe turned and swept back again on the same track. Again the blade cut through the curtain, with a downward stroke this time that laid open a vertical seam.

"Once more, my brave Golden!" said the Ensign, patting his pony, and he swept the third time across the face of the curtained door. The top and both edges were now severed from the sides of the sh.e.l.l. The curtain dropped over so that one corner dragged in the water. The hollow hull of the sh.e.l.l ship was exposed, and within it the angry faces of a group of Pixies.

The work wanted yet the finishing stroke. One side of the curtain was slit down to the water line. The waves were already washing in thereat; but the other side was only partly severed. It needed one stroke more--just one! That would lay the curtain level with the lake; then the billows would roll in, and claim the Pixies and their infernal machine for their own.

A fourth time Lawe swept across the stern of the Ram. A fourth time his good sword did its work without fail. The true eye and steady hand of the Ensign sent it home to the mark. The curtain trembled a moment in the breeze, fell backward with flap and splash upon the surface of the lake, and dragged behind, checking the Ram's motion as though it were a heavy anchor, and then weighed the stern downward to the surface. The waves broke in with a roar that echoed through the hollow hull. The groans and yells of the Pixie crew answered back the voice of the waters.

Lawe cast one exulting glance within as he rode by. But he was doomed to a more terrible trial than he had yet endured. As he sped across the opening on his fourth trip, a dark form leaped upon him from the hold.

He was in a Pixie's clutch! One claw grasped the Ensign's foot, the other was buried deep in Golden Rule's breast. The pony, frantic with terror and pain, plunged and shook his wings. But the Pixie kept his hold. Lawe looked downward into his face. He saw the black visage, and sneaking eyes of Lieutenant Hide!

"Ha, ha," laughed the Pixie. "You know me, do you? Well, you've done a fine thing to-day, no doubt! Your name shall go down to posterity, of course. But I think I shall stop _you_ from going down any further in that line. We shall try another sort of going down. There's nothing like pleasant company, even when one's making a voyage to the bottom of the lake! Ha, ha!"

The malignant creature spoke truly. They were sinking slowly together, horse, rider and Pixie into the lake. The weight of Hide's body might have been overcome, but the motion of the pony's wings was much hindered. Golden Rule struggled n.o.bly, but fell steadily toward the water. Ensign Lawe had by this time recovered from the shock of the unexpected a.s.sault.

"Grammercy, for thy courteous invitation," he said, coolly. "I choose to decline thy bidding and thy presence. In sooth, we shall part company now."

[Ill.u.s.tration: ((hand printed) Hide, falls into the water.)

THE BOY'S ILl.u.s.tRATION.

FIG. 92.--The Sinking of the Pixie Ram.]

Once, twice, and again the faithful cutla.s.s glanced in the sunlight. The first stroke cut loose the Pixie's claw from the pony's breast; the second divided the arm by which his own foot was held; the third, following quickly, smote upon the head of the wretched creature as he tumbled, like Lucifer of old, into the bosom of the lake.

There was a ripple upon the water; a faint pool of blood tinged the face of Lake Katrine, and the waves closed forever above the dead body of Hide, the son of Shame. Golden Rule, released from his burden, shook his wings gladly and mounted aloft. Lawe cast his eyes downward just as the Pixie Ram settled, surged, and plunged stern foremost into the lake.

Thus perished at the hands of Ensign Lawe, the famous sea ghost, the Pixie sh.e.l.l-clad Ram. The machine was a brilliant thought, the conception of Hide himself. It was just what it seemed to be, the sh.e.l.l of a water snail. Entering this empty sh.e.l.l, Hide and his engineers had closed the opening with a web or curtain of varnished silk, which kept the water out.[AP] Then paddles were fitted up in the stern, revolved by hand cranks within, and thus the vessel was directed by those inside. To ordinary a.s.sault it was invulnerable at every part except the curtain which covered the opening, and thereat had the keen blade of Ensign Lawe found entrance, and so the way to victory.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote AP: It is not uncommon for certain tubeweaving spiders to avail themselves of the friendly openings of land sh.e.l.ls and spin their web therein. The Editor must confess that he has never seen any of his spider friends whose habits resemble that here attributed to Pixie Hide.

But the Author is not without authority for the use made thereof; for Jones, in his "Animal Life," a well-known and excellent book on Natural History, relates an incident upon which the story of the Pixie Ram may have been founded.--F. M.]

CHAPTER XXII.

"HAIR-BREADTH 'SCAPES BY FLOOD AND FIELD."

The gallant exploit of Ensign Lawe had been wrought while the two fleets were under full headway up the channel. After the first outbreak of anxiety, amazement and mockery, but little attention had been paid the Quixotic affair, as all voted it. Both fleets were intent upon the management of their ships. Pursuers and pursued crowded on all sail, and as a strong wind blew from the west they were a long way from the Ram at the moment of its destruction. A shout from Lawe's soldiers, who had hovered near during the strange duel, drew attention to the Brownie troopers.

"What is that?" asked Rodney of the lookout.

"I don't see yet. Yes, I make it out now; Lawe is struggling in the air with a Pixie who must have leaped from the Ram upon his pony. The Ensign is falling into the water. No! he has cut himself loose! The troopers wave their swords and shout like mad men."

"What of the Ram? How do the lads manage to escape the darts from the--?"

"See! See!" cried the lookout excitedly. "The Ram is settling into the water. The stern has been laid open from deck to keel. The waves rush in. She is sinking! Hurrah, hurrah!" The national standard was run up upon the flag-ship, and as the Natties uncovered and saluted the colors, cheer after cheer made the welkin ring. The Brownie bugles struck up one of their favorite national airs, "The Bonnie White Flag," which begins,

The Natties over the blue waves sail, The Troopers cleave the air, The Footmen tramp o'er hill and vale, But one is the Flag we bear!

CHORUS:

Huzza for the Flag we bear!

Huzza for the Name we wear!

We are one, we three, Over sh.o.r.e and sea, In the honors and toils we share For the Flag and the Name we bear.

Ho--e--yo! Tu--loo--ra--lay The bonny white Flag for aye!

[Ill.u.s.tration: FIG. 93.--Saluting the Colors.]

The n.o.ble character of the Brownies was well shown by the absence of jealousy on this occasion. Although the navy had run from the Ram, the sailors cheered the good trooper who had conquered. However, the Ensign took no time to indulge in hurrahs and congratulations. He pushed to the sh.o.r.e, exchanged his injured pony for a fresh nag, and rode off to join MacWhirlie.

The Stygians at first could not credit the destruction of their naval machine, least of all that it had been wrought by a dragoon! Few of them had seen the combat. They had left the Ram, as they supposed, to follow and destroy the Ken, and had themselves pursued the fleeing Natties at full speed. Many of them had just seen the vessel as she went down. For the rest the vacant water was the proof. The Ram was gone! Their hopes had now also gone. With one half of the fleet on the other side of the channel, they deemed discretion the better part of valor, and slowly fell back toward their harbor again.

Rodney longed to follow them, but for several good reasons kept on his course up the channel. He had lost two of his best ships, with Pipe, Fluke, True, Blythe, Help, and many other brave men. In the hurly-burly no one had observed the escape of Help and his boat crew; they, as well as the crews of the Praise and the Hope, were thought to be lost.

Moreover, he knew not but another Ram might be sent against him. Finally he feared that if he did stop to attack the Stygians in the harbor, the other squadron would sail around the island, and he would thus be caught between the two divisions. Much to his regret, therefore, he gave up the plan to join with the army in attacking Big Cave camp, and sailed up the channel to meet and engage the second Pixie squadron.

In the meantime MacWhirlie had fallen with his usual vigor upon the enemy's camp. The pickets had been driven in, and the outer line of works captured. The portable davids of the cavalry carried upon the backs of their bee ponies, a sort of flying artillery, were turned upon the tents and inner works, and the shot played merrily.

But as fortune would have it, Bruce failed to get up at the appointed time, and could not support his lieutenant by attacking on the other side of the camp. During the delay thus caused the incidents above related occurred; the Pixies rallied, and reinforced by Stygians from the returned ships, drove MacWhirlie back to the outer line of entrenchment. Here he put up breastworks, placed sentinels and picket lines, sent out scouts, and waited for his captain.

Bruce soon appeared and the line was completed around the Pixie camp, stretching in a half circle from sh.o.r.e to sh.o.r.e. The great drawback was the absence of the fleet. The Brownie commanders were concerned about the safety of their position. Could they hold it until Governor Wille came to their help? Or, would anything interfere to hinder him from keeping his promise? If he failed again, what should they do?

"However," said Bruce, "it is well not to cross a river until we come to it. Ensign Lawe, take a troop and ride over to the mansion. Get news of the Governor's purpose. Remind him of his promise. If there is any danger of another delay, come back post haste with the news. And now, my men, let us to breakfast, take a little rest and get ready for hard service. There's plenty of it before us."

Soon after the bugle had sounded the sick call, one of the sentinels on the picket line saw some one rapidly approaching from the direction of the Pixie camp.

"Halt! Who goes there?" he cried.