Dave Darrin on the Asiatic Station - Part 8
Library

Part 8

"The Lieutenant Commander's compliments, sir, and will the executive officer report to the Lieutenant Commander at once?"

"Immediately," replied Lieutenant Warden, returning the salute, taking his brief adieu by merely raising his uniform cap before he left the party.

Ten minutes later Lieutenant Warden stepped briskly on deck. He paused long enough to say something in an undertone to the officer of the deck, who smartly pa.s.sed the word for a messenger.

"I am sorry to announce," said the executive officer, approaching the group of officers who surrounded Miss Chapin, "that our pleasant days in Manila are ended for the present."

"I should say so," cried Captain Chapin. "There goes your recall flag to the mast-head."

"Right!" replied Mr. Warden crisply. "Our sailing orders have just been wirelessed from sh.o.r.e. We sail at seven this evening, if our few men on sh.o.r.e leave can be recalled in that time. Mr. Hale, you are to take the launch and go ash.o.r.e after the leave men."

"Very good, sir," replied that ensign, saluting, next raising his cap to Miss Chapin and hastening away.

"Leaving, are you?" asked Pembroke, in a tone of regret. "And what is your destination?"

"China," rejoined Lieutenant Warden tersely.

The Englishman's face changed expression.

"Not-" he stammered. "Not the-"

"For the Nung-kiang River," replied the executive officer.

Dave Darrin and Dan Dalzell were the only ones present who caught the strange, fleeting look that pa.s.sed over the face of Pembroke.

"Why can this Englishman object to our going to the Nung-kiang River?"

Ensign Darrin wondered. "What interest can he take in any mission of ours there?"

CHAPTER IV-THE LANDING PARTY AT NU-PING

"That ought to hold the pirates for a little while," declared Danny Grin, his good-natured face looking unusually grim.

"I think it will," replied Dave, halting before his cabin door. "Dan Dalzell, if my face is as dirty as yours I shouldn't care to walk up Main Street in my native town."

"Go in and look at _yourself_," scoffed Dalzell.

"It's fully as dirty," called Dave, from the interior of his cabin, surveying himself in the gla.s.s.

But it was as honorable dirt as any man may have on his face-the grime of powder-smoke as it blew back when the gunboat's five-inch guns had been swung open at the breech.

For the "Castoga," intercepted by wireless on the way to the Nung-kiang, had been sent to Hong Kong by an official order from Washington. The threatened troubles along the Nung-kiang had quieted down to such an extent that cautious officials in Washington dreaded lest Chinese sensibilities should be wounded by the sending of a gunboat up the river.

So, day after day, the "Castoga" had lain in the mountain-bordered harbor at Hong Kong.

Then came the word one day that the Chinese rebels in the district around the city of Nu-ping, on the Nung-kiang River, had again become troublesome, and that the American mission buildings at Nu-ping were threatened. The "Castoga" had been ordered to proceed at full speed, she being the nearest craft of a draft light enough to ascend the river.

During the last hours of darkness the gunboat had steamed up the river, all eyes on board turned toward the sinister red glow that lighted the sky above the Chinese city, capital of a province.

Just before daylight the gunboat dropped anchor with every man and officer at quarters.

From sh.o.r.e came the sound of rifle shots, a wild pandemonium of yells, as thousands of raging Chinese surged upon the mission buildings, to which fire had already been set, and from which the American missionaries and their families, aided by the white residents of Nu-ping, were making the only resistance that lay within their power.

The first note of cheer that came to the missionaries and their friends was the whistle of the gunboat, sounding clearly when still two miles distant. Then the lights of the fighting craft came into sight.

For a few minutes after coming to anchor, the commander of the "Castoga" was forced to wait for sufficient daylight to enable him to distinguish accurately between friend and foe.

At the side of the gunboat a launch and four cutters waited, to carry a landing party, if the sending ash.o.r.e of men should prove to be necessary. Anxiously, using his night gla.s.ses every minute, the American commander paced the deck and listened.

Then, when there was barely enough light, word was telephoned to the division officers to begin action.

Boom! spoke the first gun from the gunboat. Other shots followed rapidly.

In the compound before the burning mission buildings was a ma.s.s of yellow fiends, crowding, yelling and shooting. From the windows of such portions of the burning buildings as were still tenable American rifle fire was poured into the mob.

That first sh.e.l.l, landing among the yellow fiends, killed more than twenty Mongols, wounded others, and drove the attackers out of the compound.

Boom! Bang! Other sh.e.l.ls flew through the air, clearing away the rabble further back.

From the mission buildings, a quarter of a mile away, went up a wild cheer of hope.

But the attacking rabble, despite the first sh.e.l.l fire, came back, inviting further punishment.

Again the gunboat's five-inch guns roared out. There was now sufficient light to enable the American gunners to make out the locations of the mob.

At least thirty sh.e.l.ls were fired ere the rebels beat a retreat beyond the confines of Nu-ping.

It was time to stop firing, for some of the American sh.e.l.ls had set fire to Chinese dwellings and business buildings.

On a low hill, a quarter of a mile away from the burning mission buildings, flew the Chinese flag, flanked by the flag of the governor of the province.

Watching this yamen, or palace, the American officers saw a body of not more than a hundred soldiers issue suddenly from behind the walls.

Straight to the mission hurried these tardy fighting men. Though late in acting, the Chinese governor was sending an invitation to the endangered missionaries and their friends to share the hospitality and protection of his yamen.

"He might have done that before," muttered Dan Dalzell.

"If he has so few Chinese soldiers," Dave explained, "he never could have driven back the thousands of rebels. Our friend, the governor, is cautious, surely, but plainly he is no fool."

Once the bombardment had stopped, the various officers, except one division officer, had been ordered to their quarters to clean up and put on fresh uniforms, for the work of the day was by no means finished.

So back to their quarters hurried the released division officers.

Dave Darrin quickly divested himself of his dungaree working clothes, then stripped entirely, going under a shower bath. From this he emerged and rubbed down, drew on fresh underclothing, a clean shirt, and hastily completed his toilet.

At that instant there came a summons at the door, with an order for Ensign Darrin to attire himself in khaki uniform. The same order was delivered to Dan.