Wednesday, July 6th, we pa.s.sed Sandy Hook and entered New York harbor, just thirty-six days since we left it.

As we made our way up the channel, a pilot boat hailed us and told us of Sampson and Schley's glorious victory over Cervera.

Though our joy was great and our enthusiasm intense, we were greatly disappointed that we were not in at the death. We felt sure that if we had been there our skipper would have worked the old craft in near enough to have given us a shot.

We steamed on up the bay and through the Narrows, the happiest lot of Jackies afloat. The captain of every vessel we met pulled his whistle cord until the steam gave out, and the pa.s.sengers cheered and waved their handkerchiefs, or whatever came handy.

The health officer pa.s.sed us in a jiffy, and before eight bells struck we were safely at anchor off Tompkinsville.

It transpired that we had been sent North on account of a yellow fever scare. The health officer proved that the fear was groundless. Again we set to work cleaning, scrubbing, polishing, and painting, so by the time our friends came crowding aboard, the ship was as neat as a new pin.

The visitors--how glad we were to see them! Only one who has looked danger in the face and realized that there might never be a home-coming in this world, could understand our feelings as our relatives and friends--bless them--came aboard.

Fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, and other fellows' sisters crowded up the gangway to greet us.

And all were welcome.

The second day after we anch.o.r.ed, the port watch was given sh.o.r.e leave of twenty-four hours. So we donned our clean blues, and for the first time since May 9th, set foot on solid ground.

As the port watch came over the side the following day, after its liberty ash.o.r.e, they were met with the order "Shift into working clothes at once and get those sh.e.l.ls below." The red ammunition flag was flying at the foremast head, and all thoughts must be given up of the good times ash.o.r.e.

The starboard watch then went on liberty ash.o.r.e and the port watch tackled the ammunition.

From noon till after ten, we were kept busy storing thirteen-inch sh.e.l.ls for the biggest guns in the navy. They weigh 1,100 pounds apiece and are dangerous things to handle, not only on account of their weight, but because of the charge of powder each carries. We also loaded eight, six, and five-inch sh.e.l.ls into the after hold. We turned in at eleven o'clock, and were roused at 3:30 next morning to begin the same heavy work. When the starboard watch returned the following noon, we were still at it, and they, too, had to pitch in and help as soon as they could get into working clothes.

Sat.u.r.day, Sunday, and Monday were spent in the same way--stowing food for Uncle Sam's mighty guns.

The thirteen-inch sh.e.l.ls were crated in heavy planks, bound with iron; slings of rope were placed around them and they were lowered slowly into the hold. The eight, six, and five-inch sh.e.l.ls had a lashing of tarred rope and a loop by which they might be lifted and handled.

Charges of smokeless powder for thirteen, eight, and six-inch guns, in copper canisters, were also taken aboard.

When all was stowed, we carried enough explosives to blow the water out of the bay. At half-past two on July 12th, the anchor was raised, the cat falls manned, and we bade New York good-by once more. A brisk northeast breeze was blowing, kicking up an uncomfortable sea, and when Sandy Hook was pa.s.sed it became necessary to close all ports and batten down hatches.

The rolling and pitching of the ship soon began to make things interesting on the gun deck. Immense green seas, shipped at intervals on the upper deck, sent little streams of water trickling down through openings as yet unprotected.

At evening quarters it was all we could do to stand upright. A number of men left their stations suddenly without permission, and seemed to take great interest in the sea just over the rail.

As the sun sank, the wind rose, and with it came rain--rain in sheets--the "wettest" kind of rain.

When the port watch was relieved at eight o'clock, even the veriest landsman among us could tell that the situation was becoming serious. We turned in at once, determining to get all the sleep possible in that pandemonium of sound.

The value of hammocks in a heavy sea was proved beyond all peradventure, for once we got into them and closed our eyes, we hardly realized that the ship was almost on her beam ends much of the time.

From time to time we were wakened by the crash of a mess chest, as it broke from its lashings and careened around the deck. The mess pans and pots banged and thumped. At intervals the lurching of the vessel caused a mess table with the accompanying benches to slide to the deck with a crash.

At twelve, we of the port watch were wakened from our much-interrupted rest and ordered on deck for muster.

As we slid from our hammocks we realized for the first time the fury of the storm. It was impossible to stand upright.

The old hooker rolled so, that it was impossible to keep from sliding even when one lay p.r.o.ne on the deck. The men on lookout had all they could do to hang on. One moment the end of the bridge would rise high in air and the next almost bury itself in the seething waters.

The wind roared, the lightning flashed, and the thunder rolled.

The dense fog hung like a curtain round the ship, so the whistle was blown incessantly.

The boatswain's mate ordered me to go forward and stand an hour's watch on the bridge. I obeyed, creeping on all fours most of the time, till I reached the opening between the deck houses. I escaped, by a hair's breadth, a sea which came over the side like a solid green wall.

The man on the port end of the bridge whom I relieved, shouted in my ear--he could not be heard otherwise--"You want to get a good hold or you'll be fired overboard in a jiffy." Then he left me.

It was the kind of a night one felt the need of companionship. I spent a lonely hour on the bridge, eyes and ears strained for signs of other vessels, face and hands stung by the pelting rain. Underlying all other thoughts was the consciousness that we carried several hundred tons of deadly explosive that might shift any moment or be ignited by a spark from a lamp and explode.

The sandbags stored about the steering gear broke loose and were heaped in picturesque confusion. The scene aft was indescribable. A quant.i.ty of debris of varying nature slid across the smooth surface of the gun deck with a rush at every roll, making navigation a difficult, if not perilous, task. Later, to add to the tumult, one man's hammock was cut down by a falling mess table, but he escaped serious injury.

It was not until the following morning that the seas subsided, but the day proved pleasant, and the mishaps of the preceding afternoon were forgotten in the excitement of reaching Norfolk, which port was reached by the "Yankee" shortly before dark. Later in the evening the ship was taken to the navy yard.

"Which means that we are going to hustle more ammunition," observed Tommy, as we made fast to a dock.

"And more stores," added "Dye."

"And coal," chimed in "Stump," with a grimace. "I am glad of it, too."

"Glad of it?" echoed "Dye," in surprise. "That's queer."

"Not at all, dear boy," was the second loader's calm reply. "D'ye see, I am in training for the billet of chief deck hand on a tramp ca.n.a.l boat, and this experience is just in my line."

Four days later the mooring hawsers were cast off and the "Yankee"

steamed out between the capes en route to Santiago. From the hour we left Norfolk until the sighting of the Cuban coast, our time was taken up with drills of every description. The following extract from the log for July 18th, will suffice for an example:

"Cleared ship for action at three bells along with general quarters.

General quarters again half an hour after turn to at noon. Fire drill and abandon ship at three bells in the afternoon. General quarters again at two bells (9 p.m.)."

Under date of July 19th, one of the crew states in his private diary: "Clear ship for action again. This is a very pretty drill, and is much liked by the boys, as it includes sending all the mess gear and provisions below, where most of them are usually 'pinched.' Clear ship for action always means an exchange of undesirable mess gear, such as broken benches, tables, etc. General quarters at 1:30; fired two shots at an invisible target with smokeless powder. Great success, this new powder. If we had only been provided with it before, every living Spaniard would have trembled at the word 'Yankee'!"

"What are we doing all this clear ship, general quarters, fire drill, and such business for?" said a forecastle man to Craven, who, besides being on a deck gun, from which all that was occurring on the bridge could be seen, was a messenger.

"Why, don't you know?" said the latter. "We have a war artist aboard, and all this extra drilling is being done for his special benefit, so he can work it up for his paper, I suppose."

"Well, if we ever get that artist aboard the old 'New Hampshire' we will teach him a few things, so he can describe them from actual experience," said "Hod" the husky. "He'll be able to describe scrub and wash clothes, sweeping decks, washing dishes, and all the rest, most vividly," he continued, vindictively. "We'll show him how we get under the hose in the morning. Oh, we'll have a bully time with him, and I'll wager that when we're through the honors of naval battles will seem too trivial for him to draw!"

CHAPTER XVIII.

THE "YANKEE" ARRIVES OFF SANTIAGO

On the twenty-first of July the "Yankee" arrived off Santiago. The "Brooklyn" was the only warship on guard, and the absence of that grim line of drab-colored ships changed the whole appearance of the coast.

The "Brooklyn" seemed lonely, though she rode the seas proudly. "See,"

she seemed to say, "I am monarch of all I survey"; and she looked every inch a queen, as she swayed slowly in the long ground swell, her ensign snapping in the brisk breeze and Admiral Schley's flag standing out like a board. From our proximity to the sh.o.r.e we were enabled to obtain a better view than before. Old Morro Castle, perched above the mouth of the channel, seemed battered and forlorn. The Stars and Stripes floated on high exultingly from the very staff that formerly bore the Spanish colors, and we thrilled when we saw it. The wreck of the "Reina Mercedes" could be plainly made out, and beyond her could also be seen the masts and stack of the "Merrimac"--a monument to American heroism.