Without pausing to learn the effect of the first shot, Captain Nicholson sent the submarine below with a lurch, ordered the helm hard a-starboard and made for mid-channel, where he knew the second first-class cruiser lay at anchor, stern to and nosing the strong ebb-tide.
All members of the crew, as well as Frank and Jack, were jubilant. The men insisted that they had heard a roar that meant the explosion of the cruiser, though this was highly improbable. Jack and Frank had heard nothing, and they turned to Captain Nicholson.
"Did you hit her, sir?" asked Jack eagerly.
"Sure," was the reply. "The shot couldn't have failed to go home."
But the work was only one-third done, even less than that, when the fact that the submarine had to get out of the harbor again is considered.
The submarine, well down, now ran across the harbor at an angle, aiming to come up to the starboard of the second cruiser. Captain Nicholson explained his reason for doing this:
"I figure they will expect us on the side nearest the first cruiser," he said. "Therefore, I believe we stand a fair chance of surprising them by attacking on the starboard. At the same time, we will have our movements masked from the third and smaller cruiser by our second victim itself."
This sounded reasonable to the two lads, but they made no comment.
To foster an appearance of an attack off the second cruiser's port side, Captain Nicholson let go a decoy periscope to float with the tide's decided sweep to the left shore and draw the fire of the enemy in that direction.
Slowly the submarine advanced, and presently those on board could hear the unmistakable boom of heavy guns. The ruse had succeeded, and the cruisers and guns of the fort were aiming at the spot in the water where the decoy periscope led them to believe the submarine was floating.
The submarine rose so that the periscope took in the scene above the water. Captain Nicholson, glancing through the instrument, saw that he was at least 500 yards to the starboard of the second cruiser. Under full speed, the Y-3 ran straight up to her enemy's bow.
The periscope, protruding above the water, was quickly sighted by the cruiser, but before the vessel's guns could be brought to bear, Captain Nicholson released the second torpedo. Immediately the Y-3 dived again.
But before the submarine had entirely disappeared under the water, there came a loud roaring boom. The second torpedo had gone home.
"Magazine must have gone too," said Captain Nicholson briefly.
Frank and Jack glanced curiously at the members of the crew. Not at all nervous themselves, they were nevertheless surprised at the apparent coolness of the British sailors.
Captain Nicholson noticed the expression on their faces, and took time to remark:
"I suppose we should all be thinking with pity of the dead and dying above us, but when you're a hundred feet or so below, the shots and cries of battle are neither exciting nor gruesome."
The gallant commander was now steering a course for the third of the Turkish cruisers.
"Guess I won't go so close this time," he remarked. "I'll fire at longer range, so we won't have so far to go among the wreckage of all three when we leave."
Ten minutes, later the submarine came within the desired range, unobserved by the cruiser, which was lowering her boats to go to the help of the others. Captain Nicholson stood with his hand on the toggle of the firing valve, reading the range scale.
Suddenly there was a terrific shock. Every man on board the submarine was knocked off his feet, and the submarine went rapidly to the bottom. Jack was knocked unconscious by the suddenness and force of the shock.
When he opened his eyes again, Frank was bending over him.
"What's the matter?" he gasped.
"Shot hit us, I guess," was Frank's calm reply.
The lad was right. Two small Turkish gunboats, whose presence in the harbor was not known to Captain Nicholson, had approached the scene of battle, and making out the submarine's periscope, had opened on her with the big guns. One shot had gone true, and it was this that had sent the Y-3 careening to the bottom.
"Are we going to sink?" asked Jack.
"We've already sunk," replied Frank. "Whether we'll get to the surface again or not I don't know."
The lads heard the hiss of air through the vent in the manifold. Brown was letting water into the ballast tank to keep the submarine down. He turned as Captain Nicholson walked over to him.
"They got our periscopes, I think," he said coolly. "But our torpedo went just the same!"
Sure enough the tube was empty. The force of the shock had caused Captain Nicholson to launch the torpedo before he was ready, and there was no knowing whether it had been aimed true or not.
The commander now took account of the casualties. One of the men had an ugly gash across his forehead from being thrown against a stanchion, another had a bleeding and probably broken nose. Brown applied first aid to the injured, while Captain Nicholson got the submarine under way again and headed for the mouth of the harbor.
"I wonder if that last torpedo went home," said Frank. "Do you suppose it did, captain?"
"I don't know," was the reply. "We are blind now, our periscope having been shot away, and there is no way of telling without going to the surface and exposing ourselves to gunfire."
"Is there any danger of our being sunk?" asked Jack.
"Danger!" he repeated. "You bet there's danger. Still, thanks to a tight hull and a true compass, we have a fighting chance."
The Y-3 was now making ten knots, for, as Captain Nicholson said, "there was no use wasting time and giving the enemy time to plant a barrier."
Still five hundred yards from the sandbar which must be crossed, there was a jar, a moaning, grinding sound, and the motors went instantly dead. From the battery compartment there was a rush of water into the living quarters.
It was but the work of a moment for the crew to "dog down" the doors of that compartment to segregate the damage and prevent the flooding of other compartments. But even then, the Y-3 was in a bad way, and all on board realized it.
"I guess we are gone this time," said Frank quietly to Jack.
"Looks like it," was Jack's cool reply. "However, while there is life there is hope."
Captain Nicholson noticed the look of anxiety on the lads' faces.
"Don't you worry," he said cheerily. "We'll get out of here yet."
But now the deadliest foe of the submarine was at work—chlorine gas. The action of the salt water on the sulphuric acid of the battery cells was generating it with fatal quickness. Already the boys could feel a deadly burning sensation in their throats and noses.
Fifteen minutes of that atmosphere would have left all on board the submarine gasping and stifling sixty feet below the fresh air that meant life. There was but one thing to do—come to the surface and run for it in the face of the fort.
Captain Nicholson realized that it would be the end if the upper exhaust of No. 3 cylinder failed now, for with the electric engines gone, running on the surface with the Diesels was the only hope. He acted on the instant.
The submarine rose rapidly to the surface, and when well awash, the engines were started at full speed. The hatches were opened and the ventilating fans started, blowing out the gases and letting in the cold, damp air. All on board drew a breath of this invigorating air, and then Captain Nicholson turned his attention to escaping from beneath the big guns of the fort.
From his place in the conning tower he cold plainly see the activity of the fort when the lookout made out the submarine. Now the two lads, at a sign from the commander, joined him.
Glancing in the direction he pointed, they made out the fighting tops of the first two cruisers, victims of the submarine's daring raid, just reaching out of the water. The third cruiser was afloat, but from her heavy list to starboard, it was plain that she was badly damaged and sinking fast.
The fort was getting the range now, and shells fell all around the Y-3. One struck the water nearby, hurling water over the conning tower and drenching the three who stood there.
"Well," said Captain Nicholson, "they may get us, but we got three of them."
"And there is some satisfaction in that, anyhow," said Frank.
"You bet there is," Jack agreed.
The submarine was halfway across the bar, and had not been hit, and every instant meant that much more chance for life. The helmsman stuck nobly to his post, head down, and without a look at the fort. The submarine shook and trembled with the vibrations of the hard-pushed engines, straining to get the submarine to deep water.
The gallant lads in the engine-room were doing their best. A shell from long range, with most of its force expended, glanced off the port bow of the submarine, carrying away the towing pennant. The nose of the Y-3 ducked under a bit, but came up serenely in half a second.
The commander of the vessel, perceiving deep water ahead, encouraged the helmsman with a cry. Already the vessel was almost over the bar. The fire from the fort was decreasing. Only the longer range guns could come into play now.
Looking back, the lads saw two destroyers racing in the wake of the submarine, preceded by a small gunboat.
The first shells of the gunboat whizzed by the submarine.Captain Nicholson slammed down the hatch.
"Water armor for us!" he cried.
A moment later the submarine was on the safe haven of the bottom with 100 feet of solid protecting water between it and hostile shells.
"That was pretty ticklish," said Frank, drawing a breath when they were out of reach of the gunboat's fire.
"It was," was the commander's response, "and we are not safe yet by any means."
"Why—?" began Frank.
"We can't go up again now, can we?" demanded Captain Nicholson. "We shall have to stay down here until they believe we have escaped. Then we will rise and try to sneak out."
"But surely we are safe enough down here."
"Don't you believe it. They'll trawl for us all day; but luckily for us they don't know we have lost our batteries, so they'll probably search over a wide area, and we run that much more chance of not being discovered."
"But surely no shell would reach us here," said Frank.
"No," replied the commander grimly, "but if they discover us, they are likely to dump a few barge loads of pig iron or something down on us and crush our steel plating."
But the submarine was not discovered by the enemy and remained below the water all the rest of the day "went to sleep on the bottom," as the phrase goes. And that is what literally was done, for all on board were tired out.
An hour after sunset, the Y-3 came once more to the surface. There was no sign of an enemy. The sky was still banked with heavy clouds, and there was a choppy sea running.
Captain Nicholson started to run for safety at full speed ahead. Having no batteries for submerged running now, the Y-3 had to remain on top of the water, or else sink to the bottom and lie still; and for this reason Captain Nicholson kept prepared for a quick submersion.
Mines were the worst dangers the Y-3 bad to encounter now, and a careful watch was kept and the speed of the vessel reduced. Twice the vessel was picked up by the searchlight on the fort, and each time submerged.
But the engines stood up well, and at last Captain Nicholson said quietly to the two lads:
"Well, we're safe at last."
"Good," said Frank, "but I wouldn't have missed this experience for a fortune."
"Nor I," declared Frank.
"You take my advice," said Captain Nicholson, as he headed the Y-3 for the spot where they had left the Sylph almost 40 hours before, "and stay on the top. Don't spend any more time on a submarine than you have to."
It seemed long hours to Frank and Jack before they once more made out the form of the Sylph, still cruising slowly to and fro close to where they had left her nearly two days before. The submarine drew up to her rapidly, and soon Captain Nicholson ordered a small boat launched.
Into this climbed first a seaman, then Captain Nicholson and Frank and, Jack. Lord Hastings greeted the boys warmly as they dropped over the rail of the Sylph.
"I was beginning to fear something bad gone wrong," he said. "I certainly am glad to see you back safe and sound. Was the raid a success?"
"It was indeed," replied Frank.
"Three Turkish cruisers sent to the bottom," said Jack briefly.
"Good!" cried Lord Hastings enthusiastically. "And the submarine wasn't damaged, eh?"
"Oh, yes, it was," broke in Captain Nicholson, and proceeded to relate the details of the encounter.
"And how did the two lads behave themselves?" questioned LordHastings.
"Admirably," was Captain Nicholson's reply. "We were in a pretty ticklish situation for a moment, but they never lost their nerve."
The lads blushed at this praise.
"Well," said Captain Nicholson, after some further talk, "I guessI shall have to say good-bye."
He shook hands all around, and was soon on his way back to his own vessel. Immediately the Sylph was got under way, and proceeded on her course westward. But she had gone hardly a mile when the wireless operator rushed up to Lord Hastings, and handed him a message.
"Relayed by the Gloucester and Terror, Sir," he said.
Lord Hastings read the message:
"Strong German squadron somewhere off coast of South America.British fleet on watch. Get in touch."
The message was signed by Winston Spencer Churchill, first Lord of the Admiralty.
Lord Hastings pursed his lips and whistled expressively.
"Another long cruise," he said briefly.
Soon the Sylph's head was turned toward the South, and for several days thereafter she pursued her uneventful way down the coast of South Africa. Rounding the Cape of Good Hope, she steamed straight for the distant coast of South America.
Lord Hastings stopped to coal once or twice, and so it was some days before the lookout picked up, land ahead.
"Should be the Argentine coast, if we have not drifted off our course," Lord Hastings informed the two lads.
He was right, and the following day the Sylph put in at one of the small South American ports for coal.
"We'll have the ship looked over a bit," said Lord Hastings. "We are permitted to stay in this, port 24 hours, and at the expiration of that time we must leave or be interned."
It was in this place that Lord Hastings and the members of the Sylph's crew learned of the disaster that had overtaken several British cruisers in those parts. Here, for the first time, they heard of the defeat of a small British squadron by the Germans, and of the death of Admiral Sir Christopher Craddock, who had gone down fighting to the last.
"Never fear," said Lord Hastings, "Sir Christopher's loss shall be avenged, and that shortly, or I am badly mistaken."
The following day the Sylph put to sea again, and headed down theArgentine coast.
It was late the next afternoon, when the wireless operator aboard the Sylph picked up a message.
"German squadron some place near, sir," he said laconically, as he handed a message to Lord Hastings.
The commander of the Sylph glanced at the message. In regular maritime code, it read:
"Close in."
"I haven't been able to pick up the position of the ship that sent that, sir," the operator volunteered.
"If you can do so," said Lord Hastings, "let me know immediately."
"Do you know what German ships are supposed to be in these waters?" Jack asked of Lord Hastings.
"Why, yes," was the latter's reply. "The armored cruisersScharnhorst and Gneisenau, the former the flagship of AdmiralCount von Spee, and the protected cruisers Leipzig, Dresden andNurnberg. Why?"
"Well," Jack explained, "judging by the message just picked up, they must be separated. Couldn't we, by representing ourselves as one of these vessels, possibly pick up a little useful information?"
"By Jove!" said Lord Hastings. "We could."
"But how are we to know which ship sent that message?" asked Frank. "We wouldn't want to make a mistake, and we might try to pass ourselves off as the very cruiser that flashed that message."
"The message was undoubtedly sent from the flagship," said LordHastings, "so we are safe enough there. Come with me."
He led the way to the wireless room, where the operator was making unsuccessful efforts to pick up more messages from the air.
Now, at Lord Hastings' direction, he tapped his key.
"Scharnhorst! Scharnhorst!" the instrument called through the air.
There was no reply, and the call was repeated.
"Scharnhorst! Scharnhorst!"
A moment later and there was a faint clicking of the Sylph's apparatus. The call was being answered. The operator wrote it off.
"What ship is that? Admiral von Spee orders all to close in," and the exact position of the German flagship was given.
"'Dresden!" flashed back Lord Hastings. "Signed, Koehler."
"I happen to know Captain Koehler commands the Dresden," LordHastings confided to the boys.
He sent another message to the German admiral:
"Where are you headed?"
"Falkland Islands," came back the answer.
"To attack the British?" was the message Lord Hastings sent through the air.
"Will sink one British ship in harbor and destroy Wireless plant," was the answer to this query.
"Good!" said Lord Hastings to the lads. "We now know his objective point, and if we could pick up the English fleet we would be prepared to receive them."
"Is there a British fleet in these waters?" asked Jack, in some surprise.
"Yes," replied the commander of the Sylph. "Vice Admiral Sir Frederick Sturdee, chief of the war staff, is hereabouts with a powerful fleet. The fact has been generally kept a secret, but I am in possession of that much information."
"Do you make the Germans' position closer to the Falkland Islands than ours?" asked Frank.
"No," replied Lord Hastings. "Judging by the action of the wireless, I should say we are fifty miles closer."
"Then," said Frank, "why cannot we make a dash for the Islands? We can put in there and give warning. Besides, it may be that some of the British fleet is near there."
"A good idea," replied Lord Hastings. "It shall be acted upon at once."
Under full speed the Sylph dashed forward toward the Islands.
"I don't expect we shall pick up the Falklands before morning," said Lord Hastings, "and we shall have to keep a sharp lookout tonight, for we are likely to bump into a German cruiser prowling about here some place."
"Scharnhorst trying to raise the Dresden again," said the wireless operator to Lord Hastings, with a grin.
"Let her try," replied Lord Hastings. "Guess Admiral von Spee will think it funny he gets no reply, but he'll think it funnier still when he finally does raise the Dresden and learns that it was not she who answered his other call."
And it was not long until the real Dresden did reply. TheSylph's operator picked up the messages that were exchanged.
"Dresden, Koehler!" came the response to one of the flagship's calls.
"What is the matter?" came the query. "Why did you cease communicating?"
"Don't understand," was the reply. "Have not communicated with you before."
"Didn't you acknowledge my call fifteen minutes ago?"
"No!"
Even the ticking of the wireless instrument now grew nervous, and it was plain that the sender was laboring under stress.
"Received message signed 'Dresden, Koehler, fifteen minutes ago," came from the flagship. "Did you send it?"
"No," was the reply flashed back. "Picked you up now for the first time."
"Enemy must have picked up call and answered then," flashed the flagship. "Heed only code messages in future, and answer in kind."
Thereafter, although the operator picked up the messages passing between the two ships, they were only a jumble. In spite of all attempts of Lord Hastings and the two lads to decipher the code, they remained in ignorance of further communication between the enemy's ships.
"Well," said Lord Hastings. "We have scared them up a little bit, anyhow."
"I should say we have," replied Jack. "They don't know whether we are one or a dozen."
"But," said Frank, "they probably will make for the Falklands now faster than ever."
"Right," replied Lord Hastings, "and it's up to us to get there well ahead of them."
"Other cruisers coming within zone, sir," reported the wireless operator.
"Can you make out their conversation?" inquired Lord Hastings.
"No, sir," was the reply. "They have reported to the flagship, and after being warned, have continued in code."
"Did you pick up their identities?"
"Yes, sir. Besides the Dresden, the Gneisenau, Leipzig andNurnberg have reported."
"That's all of 'em," said Lord Hastings dryly, "and they make a pretty powerful squadron. Here's where we have to begin to hustle."
The Sylph seemed to go forward even faster than before.
"Land ahead!" came the cry of the lookout.
It was now early morning, and Lord Hastings, Jack and Frank stood on the bridge taking a breath of the fresh, invigorating air.
Glasses were quickly leveled, and soon the distant shore was made out.
"What port are we making for, sir?" asked Jack.
"Port Stanley," was Lord Hastings' reply.
Rapidly the Sylph steamed on, and finally, rounding into the little harbor, they made out a welcome and unexpected sight. Frank and Jack cried out in surprise, and even Lord Hastings was moved to an expression of wonder.
In the little harbor, screened from the sea, riding gently on the swell of the tide, were eight British ships of war!
"Oh, my!" exclaimed Frank joyfully, doing a little clog dance on the bridge, "won't we give it to the Germans now!"
Jack was equally as enthusiastic, though he was not given to such outbursts of emotion, being naturally more quiet.
"It looks like the end of the German squadron to me," he said simply.
As the Sylph steamed into the little harbor, one of the British war vessels turned slightly, and a shell screamed over the Sylph's bow.
"Want to know who we are," explained Lord Hastings.
The British ensign was quickly run up, and there followed a loud, cheer from the sailors of the fleet.
On the ship closest to shore flew the flag of Vice AdmiralSturdee.
"I guess I had better pay my respects to the admiral at once," said, Lord Hastings. "Would you boys care to come with me?"
"Nothing would please us more," replied Frank, speaking for both.
The Sylph steamed close to the British fleet, and then the three put off for the flagship in a small boat. Aboard, they were shown immediately to the admiral's cabin, where the nearness of the German squadron was rapidly related.
"Fortunate!" cried Admiral Sturdee. "I feared I would have to chase them all over the sea. I didn't expect them to come to me. Have you a plan to suggest, Lord Hastings?"
"I fear, Sir Frederick," replied Lord Hastings, "that if you put to sea to give battle, the Germans will turn and flee upon recognizing the power of the British fleet."
"True," mused the admiral.
"May I offer a suggestion, Sir Frederick?" asked Jack.
The admiral glanced at the lad sharply, but Jack bore up bravely under the close scrutiny.
"Speak, sir," ordered the admiral.
"Then I would suggest, sir," said Jack, "that one of your cruisers be sent out so the enemy may be able to get a bare glimpse of her. Believing that she is alone, they undoubtedly will approach to attack. Let the cruiser, retiring slowly, give battle. When she has drawn the enemy close enough, the remainder of the fleet can make a dash and nab the Germans before they have time to flee."
"An excellent plan!" cried the admiral, springing to his feet."It shall be put into execution."
With a wave of his hand he signified that the interview was over, and Frank, Jack and Lord Hastings made their way back to the Sylph.
That Admiral Sturdee was a man of action became apparent in a few moments. Unaware just how far off the German squadron was, Sir Frederick took the necessary steps immediately.
Less than an hour after Lord Hastings and the two lads had returned aboard the Sylph, the British battleship Canopus got under way, and steaming away from her sister ships, made for the entrance to the little harbor, going slowly.
Here she took up her position, steaming slowly back and forth. As yet, however, there was no sign of the enemy. Meantime, other vessels in the fleet continued to coal swiftly. Steam was gotten up and every ship prepared for action.
Against the German fleet of five ships—the armored cruisers Scharnhorst and Gneisenau and the protected cruisers Leipzig, Dresden and Nurnberg, accompanied by two colliers—the British admiral, besides the Sylph, would go into battle with eight ships of war—the battle cruisers Invincible and Inflexible, the former Admiral Sturdee's flagship, the cruisers Kent, Cornwall, Carnarvon, Bristol and Glasgow, and the battleship Canopus.
At Sir Frederick's command, every sailor in the English fleet was given a light meal, and then each man took a cold bath. Following this, those who were not on watch, turned in for a brief rest. And to show the hardihood and bravery of the British tar, there was not a man who showed signs of nervousness or fear.
There was a signal from the Canopus—a signal by flags, for the British did not wish to betray their presence by the use of the wireless, which could be as easily picked up by the enemy.
"Enemy approaching," read the signal.
Admiral Sturdee signaled back.
"Engage him when he has approached so close that he believes you are unable to get away."
The commander of the Canopus signified his understanding of this command, and continued steaming to and fro, ostensibly guarding the harbor.
At last the first gray form of a German cruiser came within sight of those on the Sylph. It was steaming slowly forward, apparently in no hurry and secure in its belief that there was no enemy near to be feared.
The Sylph had been stripped for action with the rest of the British fleet, for Lord Hastings had no mind to keep out of the battle.
"We've come a long ways to see an engagement," he told the lads, "and I think we are entitled to a hand in the affair."
"Hurrah!" shouted Frank.
"Good!" said Jack, quietly. "I was afraid we would have to stand off and look on."
"That's what I was afraid of, too," declared Frank.
"Well, we won't," said Lord Hastings. "Not this time, at any rate. I guess you will see all the fighting you wish presently."
Still the German squadron came on, apparently unconscious of the presence of the British battleship Canopus, the only English vessel that could be seen from the open sea. All seven ships—five vessels of war and the two colliers—could be plainly discerned now.
"What's the matter with 'em?" demanded Frank. "Surely they can see the Canopus."
"I guess they are figuring she hasn't spotted them yet," said Jack. "Believing he has only one enemy to contend with, Admiral von Spee evidently is trying to get as close as possible without being seen."
Indeed, this seemed a plausible explanation. At any rate, in lieu of a more reasonable one, it answered. Men on the Canopus now rushed hurriedly to and fro, officers darted hither and thither. The Canopus was ready for instant battle.
All the other ships of the British fleet also had come to life. Men who had been sleeping hurried to their posts. The gun crews stood at their places, the range finders were at their posts, and the officers stood ready to repeat the signal for advance as soon as Admiral Sturdee should give it.
Stripped to the waists, in spite of the chilly atmosphere outside, the crew of the Sylph also was ready. There was grim determination written plainly on the face of every man. In spite of the apparent superiority of the British fleet, each man realized that the battle would be to the death.
They knew that, although surprised, the Germans would not give up without a struggle—that they would battle desperately for supremacy although outnumbered. Confident of their own prowess and marksmanship, they nevertheless did not discount the ability of the foe.
"It will be a furious battle," said Lord Hastings to the lads, who stood beside him.
"I have an idea," said Frank, "that when the enemy finds he is outnumbered, he will not engage all his ships, but will try to protect the flight of most of them with one or two."
"By love!" said Lord Hastings. "I hadn't considered such a contingency. I wouldn't be surprised if you have hit it."
"I believe he has," said Jack.
"Well," said Lord Hastings grimly, "we will make that our business. Admiral Sturdee can take care of the fighting part of the fleet, and we will try to intercept any vessel that tries to escape."
"But do you suppose we can?" asked Frank.
"We can try," replied the commander of the Sylph, with slightly compressed lips. "As soon as the Germans engage the Canopus, we will try to get out ahead of the rest of the fleet and, keeping out of the thick of battle, steam to sea. Then if any of the enemy try to get away, with our superior speed we can at least head them off and engage them until help arrives."
"A first-class plan," Jack agreed. "However, I shouldn't be surprised if Admiral Sturdee had anticipated such a maneuver by the enemy."
"Even if he has," said Lord Hastings, "we probably wouldn't be selected to accomplish the work, and that's what we want to do. Therefore, we will act without being ordered."
"Good," said Jack.
In the meantime the German fleet had been approaching steadily.It was apparent that the presence of the British battleshipCanopus, in the entrance to the harbor, had at last beendiscovered. A wireless message flashed through the air.
"Surrender or I shall sink you!" it read.
"An Englishman never surrenders!" was the reply flashed back by the commander of the Canopus.
The German admiral tried again.
"I would avoid all unnecessary loss of life," he signaled.
"Thanks," was the laconic response of the Canopus. "We are able to take care of ourselves."
To this there was no reply, and still the German squadron came on without firing a shot.
"Wonder why they don't shoot?" asked Jack.
"Guess they want to get as close as possible first," repliedFrank. "Remember, they believe they have only one to deal with."
"True," said Jack. "But why doesn't the Canopus fire?"
"I suppose," replied Frank, "it's because the commander wishes to draw the enemy so close that escape will be impossible."
And the lad had hit upon the exact reason. Mindful of his instructions to draw the enemy in as close as possible before engaging him, the commander of the Canopus had no mind to open the battle.
And ever the German squadron was steaming closer and closer to destruction. But there is an end to everything, and so there finally came an end to this inaction.
"Boom!"
A single German gun had opened the battle.
There was no reply from the Canopus.
"Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!"
Two of the enemy's ships cut loose at the Canopus.
Still the British battleship did not reply.
But the Germans had not yet found the range, and the Canopus was untouched, although several shells struck near her.
Then: "Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!"
The Canopus had at last opened fire on her foes. And, even as the first British shell sped across the water, the Canopus turned and began to retreat.
Fearful of losing their prey, the German vessels increased their speed and steamed rapidly after her, their big guns continuing to hurl shells across the water.
The Canopus was replying gun for gun, now, and with each moment the roar of battle increased.
And then, suddenly, in perfect battle formation, imposing and majestic in their advance, out of the little harbor steamed proudly the battle fleet of Great Britain, moving swiftly forward to engage the enemy!
The enemy perceived the advance of this formidable squadron in an instant, and there was a lull in the fire of the German ships. Then the guns opened with redoubled vigor, and the entire German fleet turned to flee.
Not unwilling to take advantage of the apparent fact that they had but one enemy to encounter—the Canopus—now that the odds were somewhat against them there was a different story. Evidently the German admiral held five German ships against one British vessel fair odds, but he was not minded to have the odds eight to five against him.
But the German fleet, secure in the belief that it had but one enemy to contend with, had advanced too far. Escape now was impossible. The greater speed of the British ships became apparent as the chase continued, the English ever gaining.
At last, realizing that there was no hope of escape, Admiral vonSpee turned to give battle. The Scharnhorst, Gneisenau andLeipzig immediately formed in battle line.
Immediately the British ships slowed up. The Nurnberg and Dresden, the two smaller German cruisers, did not join the other three German ships in battle formation, but continued their flight.
This was what those on board the Sylph had expected, and the little scout cruiser, making a slight detour, to avoid, as far as possible, shells from the three German cruisers, started in pursuit, full speed ahead. The German vessels, however, had considerable of a start, and it was plain that the Sylph would not overhaul them for hours.
In the meantime the battle was raging fiercely. From the first the British concentrated their fire on the German flagship. The huge thirty-four centimeter guns of the British fleet, as against the twenty-one centimeter guns of the enemy, made the outcome of the engagement certain from the first. All that remained was to see how well the Germans could fight, and what damage they could inflict on Admiral Sturdee's fleet before being sent to the bottom.
A huge shell from the British flagship dropped squarely aboard the Scharnhorst and exploded with a deafening detonation. Metal and bodies flew high in the air, shattered, and dropped into the sea for yards around. But the Scharnhorst had not been hit in a vital spot, and she continued to fight back desperately.
Now a shell from the Canopus struck the Scharnhorst amidships; a second from the Inflexible and a third from the Invincible followed in quick succession, and every one went home. The marksmanship of the British gunners was remarkable.
But the British were not escaping unscathed. A shell from the Leipzig struck the Cornwall just below the waterline and pierced her armor, and then exploded. Two men were killed by flying pieces of steel, and several others were wounded. So far this was the only loss sustained by the English.
As the battle progressed the fire of the British became more and more deadly. Hardly a shot was wasted now. The Scharnhorst, wounded unto death, fought back with the courage born of desperation.
A well-directed shell burst aboard the Invincible, killing three men outright and maiming practically every member of a gun crew near which it struck. But new men were in their places in a second, and the gun did not even pause in its fire.
Gradually the fire of the Scharnhorst became slower and slower, as one after another her guns were silenced by the accurate fire of the British gunners.
Then came the sound of a terrific explosion aboard the German flagship, and she staggered perceptibly. There was a lull in the British fire, as a demand was made for the Scharnhorst to surrender.
The German admiral hurled back a message of defiance to his foes, and the few remaining guns on his flagship continued to spout fire and smoke. He had determined to fight to the last, and go down with his ship, if need be.
The fire from the British ships, the demand for surrender having been refused, broke out afresh, and finally, struck in a vital part, the Scharnhorst burst into flames, at the same time beginning to settle in the water.
Admiral Sturdee could not but admire the way in which the German sailors stuck to their posts in the face of certain death, and he ordered the fire against the Scharnhorst to cease, that those on board might have a chance for life.
But of this chance neither the German admiral nor his men would take advantage. There were still several guns fit for action, and these continued to rain shells at the British. And, as the ship burned like a raging furnace, at the same time settling lower and lower in the water, these brave men continued to fire their guns.
Now the last gun had either been silenced or had disappeared below the water. Admiral von Spee appeared upon deck, in full view of his enemies. His officers and surviving members of the crew gathered about him. The sweet music of a band carried across the water. The Germans stood erect about their commander, as the flames crept close and the ship settled.
Suddenly it was all over. With a startling movement the Scharnhorst disappeared beneath the waters of the Atlantic Ocean. Her commander and crew had stood with bared heads to the last, and had gone to death, standing as though drawn up for inspection. There was a faint cheer from them as the ship disappeared beneath the waves.
The sinking of the German flagship Scharnhorst had required just a few minutes less than an hour.
Now the entire British fleet concentrated its fire upon the Gneisenau. In spite of the loss of the flagship and their admiral, the Germans would not give up; in fact, they seemed determined to rejoin their companions in the world beyond a watery grave.
The fire from both German cruisers became fiercer. Shells played a merry tattoo on the armored sides of the Canopus, upon which the two German cruisers were concentrating their fire, but the shells rattled harmlessly off the well-protected sides, and the Canopus was not damaged.
Gradually now the British squadron closed in on the Gneisenau and Leipzig, spreading out in a half circle as they advanced. Both German ships had been vitally wounded, but they continued to fight back gamely. Shell after shell burst on their decks, pierced them below the waterline, or carried away their fighting tops or superstructure.
Battered almost to pieces, and their decks strewn with dead and dying, they nevertheless fought on.
There would be no surrender. This fact was apparent to the British, and they directed their fire so as to end the battle as quickly as possible.
The Gneisenau staggered, and seemed about to go under. She recovered her equilibrium in an instant, however, and renewed the battle with even greater vigor than before.
Now the two German cruisers, crippled and battered as they were, steamed as rapidly they could right toward the British fleet, making a final effort to inflict a serious blow upon the British before themselves going to the bottom.
Closer and closer they came, their guns hurling shells at all the British vessels without favor. A shell struck squarely upon the bridge of the Canopus, killing an officer; and the splintering wood that flew about accounted for two more, making the British death list now eight.
And still the German cruisers came on; and then the Gneisenau wavered, halted and staggered back. A shell had pierced through to her boilers. There was an explosion, followed by a great hissing sound.
Without steam the Gneisenau could steam neither forward nor backward. Stationary, rising and falling on the swell of the waves, she continued to pour in her fire, even as the Leipzig continued on alone.
A British shell struck the Leipzig's steering gear, rendering it useless, and the German cruiser staggered about at the mercy of the sea. Still the gunners continued to hurl shells at the British whenever the guns could be brought to bear.
But this was not often, for the fact that she could not be steered properly rendered the work of the British much easier.
Admiral Sturdee, greatly impressed with the bravery of the Germans, decided to give them one more chance for life. He ordered a cessation of firing and called upon the two cruisers to surrender.
The merciful offer was met with a cry of defiance, and a shell burst over the admiral's flagship, dropping half a score of men, two of whom never arose.
Now the British ships closed in on the two German cruisers, and poured broadside after broadside into the almost defenseless hulls.
Suddenly the Gneisenau disappeared beneath the waves, with all on board, the last that was heard of her being a cheer from her crew.
The Leipzig lasted but a moment longer. She was listing badly, and now, suddenly rising on her beam's end, she dived beneath the water.
The battle of the Falkland Islands, the greatest British sea victory since the battle off Heligoland, was over.
Boats were quickly lowered from the British ships to rescue, if possible, survivors of the German ships. A few were picked up, but not many. Of the more than 1,800 men aboard the three German cruisers, at least 1,700 had gone to the bottom.
The Scharnhorst and the Gneisenau were the largest cruisers of the German fleet. They were sister ships, of 11,600 tons' displacement, 450 feet on the waterline, and were rated at a speed of 22 1/2 knots. Each carried a complement of 765 men, and was armed with eight 8.2-inch guns, six 6-inch guns, twenty 24-Pounders, four machine-guns and four torpedo tubes.
The Leipzig had a displacement of 3,250 tons and carried 286 men. She was 341 feet long on the waterline, had a beam of 43 1/2 feet, and was rated at 23 knots. Her largest guns, of which she carried ten, were 4-inch. She had also ten 1-pounders, four machine-guns and two torpedo tubes.
And these were the three mighty vessels of the battle fleet ofthe Emperor of Germany which, after having preyed for months uponBritish shipping, had finally been sent to the bottom of theAtlantic by Admiral Sir Frederick Sturdee, chief of the BritishWar Staff.