The Story of Paul Boyton - Part 27
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Part 27

Several days pa.s.sed while exploring the mysterious tombs in the daylight and watching for a chance to place a torpedo at night, when it was discovered that the cruiser they were after had hauled off; so the necessity of their staying there being removed, the sloop was headed for Chorrilos. From the latter city they made short runs among the islands in that neighborhood. While on those trips, they frequently pa.s.sed an island on one of the ledges of which, they often saw a monster sea lion--the largest among the thousands in that locality. One of his crew a.s.sured Paul that that lion was known to all the fisherman and was remarkably cunning. Boyton at once made up his mind to capture the brute. With that purpose in view, he ran the sloop for several days to a point behind the island near the big lion's resting place, in order to get him accustomed to their presence. He was always found occupying the same ledge of rock, surrounded by smaller lions. For the first two or three days, when the sloop approached, the monster would rise on his flippers, bellow and dive off into the sea. Following his plans, Boyton made no attempt to molest him; but brought the sloop close under the island where the men would either sleep or spend their time at fishing. In a few days the lion became so accustomed to the sloop, that instead of diving he would lay on the rock and watch curiously. If he did go off, he returned again after satisfying his hunger. When it was thought he had lost all fear of them, Paul gave orders to the men one morning to stand by with carbines ready to fire as soon as the word was given. Sail was lowered and the sloop allowed to drift in as close as the monster would permit. As soon as he raised his great head and showed signs of uneasiness, the man forward let go the anchor and the crew pretended to busy themselves about the deck without regarding his presence. For a few moments he hung his ponderous body from side to side and settled down to sleep again. He was not disturbed for an hour or more and then Paul ordered his men to get ready. Raising his carbine, he fired over the head of the lion. The shot had the desired effect, for the brute sprang, to his flippers, presenting his broad breast to the crew and at that moment the order was given to fire. The beast staggered and attempted to reach the sea; but fell over, while the smaller ones dropped off the rock in fright.

Convinced that the monster was dead, Boyton ordered the boat lowered; but strange to say not one of the crew would get into it with him, they were so terrified. Taking a knife, ax and revolver, he persuaded one of the men to back him to the rock along which the sea surged heavily and when near enough, made a spring for it. He managed to draw himself upon the ledge where the monster laid, though the sea caught him to the arm pits before he could do it, and found his prize to be fully fourteen feet long from snout to flukes. He plunged the knife into its throat to make sure of the work. Then he called to the crew to get ash.o.r.e as there was no danger; but the men were afraid to risk it, the other sea lions being greatly excited, and Boyton began to remove the skin as best he could without a.s.sistance. The only way to do it was to run the knife along the stomach and cut away the blubber, rolling the skin back as he did so. He took out the entrails and flesh, so that instead of removing the skin, he really hewed the body out of it, throwing the offal into the sea. While the cutting was going on all appeared to go well with the other sea lions that were swarming about in a great state of excitement; but when he chopped at the flippers or any bony obstruction with the hatchet, they leaped on to the rock in such numbers that he had to shoot into them to frighten them away. After two hours or so of hard work lie had the body with the exception of the head and flippers out of the skin. He ordered the crew to haul in close and throw him a line which he made fast to the skin and it was pulled aboard, while the small boat backed in and took the Captain off.

They sailed back to Chorrilos where some fishermen were engaged to trim the pelt and spread it on a roof in the sun to cure. It was the finest skin Paul had ever seen and he was very proud of it.

The next morning he was ordered to appear at the palace in Lima and was detained there for three days on business connected with a new submarine boat. When he returned to the sloop, he was surprised to see great flocks of galanasas (a species of buzzard) and condors hovering over the beach; but at the moment paid no attention to them any more than to think some dead body had been washed ash.o.r.e on which the scavengers were feeding. Hastily ascertaining that everything was in order on board the sloop, he went to the roof to see how the sea lion's skin was curing. To his intense disgust, he found nothing left but the polished skull of the monster. The birds had torn it to fragments and eaten it. The artistic expression of his overpowered feelings at the discovery, would have frightened every galanasa and condor from the coast had they been familiar with the English, French or Spanish languages.

Orders were received from Lima to sink torpedoes as far out in Chorrilos Bay as they could reach without being shot by the Chileans. As there was only a lot of old Russian torpedoes on hand and no dynamite to spare, Paul decided to set dummies, knowing they would have the same effect on the Chileans, who would watch the work through their powerful gla.s.ses, from San Lorenzo. He procured a lot of empty kegs and had them painted a bright red. With these aboard, he pushed out as far as safety permitted, and in an ostentatious manner placed them across the entrance to the bay, so they would float within three feet of the surface and were plainly visible through the transparent water. The approach of a steamer from the seaward when the work was about finished, caused them to hoist sail and stand in. The steamer opened fire on the retreating sloop, but the shots fell short and her guns were answered by those on El Punte. A few days after, they had the satisfaction of seeing two Chilean men-of-war expending thousands of dollars worth of ammunition at one of the empty kegs that had loosened from its anchorage and showed on the surface. From that time, the little sloop was frequently made a target by the enemy's long range guns. One day while Boyton was lying under the awning of the sloop, he heard a whizzing cannon ball strike the rocks above where they were anch.o.r.ed. He leaped to his feet and scanned the sea in every direction; but as the atmosphere was a little hazy, he could discover no vessel from which the missile could have been thrown. Thinking that it was possibly a chance shot from the fort, he paid no more attention to it, until he was aroused by another one shrieking overhead and striking the cliffs a few hundred yards below. Then by closer observation, he could see the dim outlines of a Chilean ship fully twelve miles away.

It proved to be the Huascar, that had received some new and powerful guns, practicing. The sloop was anch.o.r.ed in a less exposed place in a very few moments.

The next morning Boyton engaged in quite a lively adventure. He was about to dive over from the side of the sloop into the cool water for a bath, when he saw some dark object moving on the bottom and checked himself. It was well that he did so for the object proved to be an octopus, or devil fish, edging its way nearly under the sloop toward the sh.o.r.e. Its great tentacles stretched out nine or ten feet from its round body and a more repulsive or dangerous looking creature is hard to be imagined. One of the crew, who was an experienced fisherman, told them all to keep perfectly still as the fellow was going ash.o.r.e among the rocks, which those creatures sometimes do; but for what purpose is not known.

The fisherman was correct, for in a few moments they saw one of the powerful tentacles reach up and grasp a rock which was just bare at low water. A party of fishermen near by, were called to a.s.sist in the capture. They were armed with oars, spears, guns and boat hooks and formed in a circle outside the dangerous brute, where they began yelling and splashing the water with their weapons in order to prevent its returning to the sea and to drive it upon the sh.o.r.e. It moved toward the beach, only a few yards distant, and whenever it was submerged discolored the water almost to inky blackness. At last, harra.s.sed on all sides, it put its slimy tentacles on the gravelly beach. Its round, pudgy body was no sooner out of the water, than an expert, in the person of a half naked fisherman, rushed in and struck it a blow on the head with a heavy club dexterously leaping away in time to avoid the waving tentacles. At every blow, all the colors of the rainbow could be seen glowing through the body of the octopus. Once it lifted its powerful tentacles, clinging to the suckers of which were stones and gravel and either in pain or anger, hurled them in all directions.

Nearly every one in the party was. .h.i.t. At last, after an exciting battle, it was dispatched and cut up for division. According to the unwritten laws among those fishermen, one half of it belonged to the sloop, and Paul was just telling them he did not want it, when the landlord of a little hotel in town, who happened to be on the beach, made a proposition to give a supper that night if he was given Boyton's share. The unexpected offer was quickly accepted and sure enough, that night a magnificent spread was laid with the octopus served as the princ.i.p.al dish. It was sometime before Paul could be persuaded to taste it, and then he found it to be the most delightful fish he had ever eaten--delicate of flavor and flesh of a slightly viscous nature. The native fishermen look upon them as a rare luxury and always have a feast when one is caught.

Notwithstanding the very poor appliances possessed by Peru, two Chilean men-of-war were blown up during the struggle, by very clever tricks.

They were the Loa and the Covodonga. As has been previously stated, it was the custom of the Chilean blockaders to pick up anchor and cruise slowly up and down the coast during the night, to keep out of the way of torpedoes. One foggy morning as the Loa was crawling back to her moorings after her customary night's cruise, her lookout discovered a small sloop containing a crew of four men, who appeared to be in a great state of alarm. One was up on the mast endeavoring to repair the peak halyards that were hanging down as though having been disabled. A gun was immediately turned on the boat by the Chilean and a shot fired over it. At that the sailor hastily descended from the mast and the four men hurriedly jumped into a light gig and began pulling with powerful strokes for the mainland. A boat was also lowered from the man-of-war and chase given, while shot after shot was sent after the fugitives. The man-of-war's boat had no chance of overhauling the quicker and lighter Peruvian gig and when the Chileans reached the sloop, they abandoned the chase. On discovering the prize they had taken, cheer after cheer rang over the sea. The sloop was loaded down with baskets of fruit, crates of chickens, vegetables, in fact the very things the Chileans mostly needed. A line was quickly fastened to the prize and she was towed alongside the Loa, and the entire crew joined the captors in cheering when they saw the good things. All hands went to the side of the vessel to look at the lucky find. It was short work to begin sending the cargo up. Almost everything had been pa.s.sed aboard when the sailors took up what seemed to be a heavy crate of vegetables. The moment it was lifted clear of the deck, there was a terrific explosion-- a mighty upheaval of the sea. A mountain of water shooting skyward, mingled with fragments of the steamer and bodies of men. As the spars and timbers dropped back into the sea, there floated on the surface but splinters where a few seconds before the proud steamer had stood. The Loa and her crew had been swept into eternity. It was then a cheer rang out from the little gig far in under the sh.o.r.e. A bold, dangerous game had been played and won.

The most emphatic orders were issued after the destruction of the Loa, by the Chilean officers to their crews, to pick up nothing without the utmost care and the most rigid examination. On an afternoon several days after the above order had been issued, the Covodonga steamed slowly along in bright, calm weather, on a cruise to the southward of Callao.

One of the crew sighted a pleasure row boat. The man reported it and the Captain was about ordering the guns turned on it, when an officer approached him and said:

"Let us examine it. We may learn something."

The Captain consented to the officer going off to the little boat; but with repeated instructions to examine carefully before touching it. It proved to be a beautifully built lady's pleasure boat that had broken from its moorings and drifted seaward, a piece of frayed line still hanging from her bow. She was painted white and gilded, elegantly furnished with cushioned seats and handsomely ornamented. An open book was found on one seat and a single oar rested on the bottom. The officer carefully examined her, pa.s.sed a boat hook underneath her and concluded she was harmless. She was towed to the steamer and the Captain a.s.sured that there was nothing suspicious about her.

"She will make a beautiful present for your wife," said the officer. The Captain responded:

"If you are certain, send her aboard."

Lines were lowered and hooks fastened to the fairy craft. As they tightened on the polished bra.s.s rings in her bow and stern, a deafening roar told the fate of the Covodonga. She was cut completely in two and only sixty of her crew were picked up and saved.

The little boat had been made with a thin false bottom in which was placed a quant.i.ty of nitro-glycerine. The friction pins were connected with the bra.s.s rings and the moment her weight was on them the pins were pulled out and the explosive discharged.

It may be imagined that after such costly experiences, the Chileans redoubled their watchfulness. They would not approach anything seen floating on the water; but turned their guns on whatever they saw at long range. They were known to fire at a seal that had wandered away from its usual haunts. Paul and his crew were compelled to keep close under cover. The Chileans were daily drawing their lines closer to the doomed city of Lima. Boyton dispatched an officer to Don Nicholas with a request to be sent with his torpedo crew down to Pisco where he expected the Chileans would attempt to laud troops. The answer he received was "Impatience is a bad counselor. Wait for orders."

If Paul had followed his own instincts, he could have knocked two or three Chilean vessels out of the water, for they landed at Pisco a few days later and no very sharp lookout being kept, he might have put torpedoes under them at night.

As the enemy was gradually closing in by land and sea, Paul was ordered to Callao to take charge of a submarine boat that had been built by a Swiss engineer. The boat was to be run by compressed air under water and by steam on the surface. It was a complicated affair and Boyton had but little confidence in it and that confidence was considerably lessened when the inventor himself refused to go down in her. However, it was decided to try her. Having managed all the details of her construction, Boyton ordered her swung under a big pair of shears and from their support hung the boat on chains, so that in case she would not run to the surface by her own power, she could be hoisted by the machinery above. She was then lowered to the water. Paul and two of his crew entered, but before descending to the bottom, gave orders to those manning the shears, to hoist at the expiration of twenty minutes. After fastening the man-hole, the valves were closed. There was an ominous hissing of air that sounded peculiar; but when she got her weight of water, she slowly settled on the mud bottom in twenty-three feet of water.

"Now get at your compressed air and see how she will go on the bottom,"

said Paul to the engineer as soon as they felt they were down.

She wheezed and groaned and moved slightly on the mud; but she refused to rise. Groping about with his lantern, the engineer found something was the matter with the valves as lie could not get one of them to work and he grew excited. He was advised to keep cool as there was no danger but they would get out all right. For five or six minutes, which seemed an hour to the men thus caught in a trap, they tried every possible way to get the machinery to work; but it was useless. The boat refused to rise. The oxygen became rapidly exhausted and the lights grew dim. Even the valve supplying fresh air for the nostrils of the occupants of the boat would not work and the situation grew more desperate with the flight of every second. As the atmosphere became oppressively heavy, Boyton wanted to knock the valve off with a hammer; but the engineer showed him if that were done, they would be drowned.

It began to dawn on the minds of the three men that they were doomed.

They sat and looked into one another's pale faces. Paul consulted his watch and estimated that twelve more minutes must elapse before those above would haul up. He felt that it would be impossible for them to last so long for already they were beginning to gasp for lack of air.

They became weak; but again tried the valves to no purpose. The least exertion exhausted them. One of the lanterns flickered out and the other was very dim.

At last Paul seized a hammer and going up the little iron ladder, struck three or four blows on the cover of the man-hole, under the impression that those above might hear. The effort was too much for him and he fell to the floor where he laid in an almost unconscious condition. He dimly remembered hearing the straining of chains, then the man-hole was opened and a voice inquired: "How is it?"

There was no answer to the inquiry and the rescuers only found out how it was when they entered the boat and dragged the three unconscious men out to light and air where they quickly recovered. The inventor of the boat made an examination of her machinery and found that the valves had been tampered with and rendered useless. It was fortunate that Boyton had taken the precaution of swinging the boat to chains, for otherwise they would have died like rats in a trap and remained in their iron coffin at the bottom of the bay.

The inventor went to Lima to report the occurrence and that night Boyton received a message warning him to keep a sharp look out as there was a Chilean spy among the crew and it was he who had tampered with the valves. At midnight two officers arrived from the capitol and the crew was summoned before them. They had an accurate description of the spy and after close scrutiny, an officer placed his hand on the shoulder of one of the crew, saying: "This is the man." Then followed one of the quickest court martials on record. A small group of men walked a short distance out on the dock in the darkness. There was a click of a revolver and a dead Chilean.

The Peruvian troops were now marshaled at Chorrillos to repel the further advance of the Chilean army that had landed at Pisco. The flower of the Peruvian forces marched out of Lima in happy antic.i.p.ation of battle. The brilliant ranks were composed of young men in gorgeous uniforms, who sang gaily as they marched on to Chorrillos. The native troops were the Cholo Indians that who had been driven in from their homes back of the Cordilleras and almost forced to fight. They marched stolidly through the streets, turning their eyes neither to the right nor to the left, though hundreds of them had never seen a town before.

They were followed by a wild though picturesque rabble of rabona women, carrying great bundles tied on their heads or backs, shrieking and chattering in their native tongue like gariho monkeys. These women formed the commissary department of the native troops. Whenever there was a halt, the rabonas would quickly unlimber their bundles and in an incredibly short time be engaged in the preparation of some sort of soup which they sold to the Indians for one cent per bowl.

The Chileans had advanced beyond Pisco and the first battle near Lima, on the plains outside of Chorrillos, was imminent. Paul and his crew with several torpedoes, went down the coast in a boat in the hope of being able to get under a Chilean vessel; but those vessels fired on the boat and sunk her, while the Captain and his men hastily gained the sh.o.r.e and joined the army on the heights. On January fourteenth, 1881, the Chileans began the attack on Chorrillos, the fashionable watering place about three leagues from Lima. Colonel Yglesi with but a handful of troops made a brave defense and had reinforcements been sent him from Miraflores, where the main body of the Peruvian army was stationed, the tide of battle would have been turned. As it was, he held out as long as he could and then retreated to the main body, after killing three- thousand of the enemy, just double the number of his original command.

On his retreat, the Chileans swarmed into Chorrillos, more intent on plunder and wanton murder than honorable warfare, while the Chilean fleet continued to pour a storm of shot and sh.e.l.l after the retreating fragments of the little command. That night the Chileans broke into the liquor store-houses and soon drunkenness increased their natural blood thirstiness. Prisoners were murdered in cold blood and women were wantonly shot down. They even fought among themselves, many being killed in that way. Next morning the streets of Chorrillos presented a sad and b.l.o.o.d.y spectacle. Dead and dying were everywhere.

Even the poor rabona women had not been spared. Their bodies could be seen all over the place. Many dead were seen on the beach where they had fallen when cruelly bayoneted off the cliffs.

While Boyton and a brave Peruvian officer, Colonel Timoteo Smith, were hastily crossing a meadow, they saw a young Chilean officer fall from his horse, wounded. They noticed that he wore the iron cross of Germany on his breast and ran forward to save him. Before they could reach him, a Peruvian Indian, knife in hand, bounded to the spot, cut the young man's throat from ear to ear and tearing the decoration from his breast, quickly disappeared. On examining the body it proved to be that of a young captain or lieutenant. It was learned afterward that he was the nephew of the celebrated General Von Moltke, the German soldier and strategist. His death was outright murder.

After the retreat to Miraflores, a truce was declared and an effort made to arrange terms of peace. The foreign diplomats, among whom was United States Minister Christiancy, and high military officers were holding a conference, while the two armies faced each other. During the peace conference, a gun was fired. It was said at the time that a Peruvian soldier fired at a cow. At any rate, the Chileans began the attack at once. The crack of their guns along the line sounded like the running of a finger over the key board of a piano. The bullets began to shatter the house in which the diplomats were conferring. They suddenly became aware of their danger and fled in all directions.

Minister Christiancy was seen in his shirt sleeves valiantly running across the fields towards Lima along with many others. Not to speak flippantly, it was a genuine go-as-you-please hurdle race, for they had to jump the low, mud walls forming the fences. The Peruvians were utterly routed. When Don Nicholas saw the battle going against him, he gallantly mounted his charger and rode to the front; but it was too late. He turned in despair and fled to the mountains followed by a few of his immediate troops.

One of the leading causes of Peru's defeat, was the fact that her soldiers were armed with two makes of rifles of different caliber.

The cartridges became mixed and hundreds of soldiers were seen to throw down their guns and flee because their sh.e.l.ls would not fit.

The ammunition, too, was strapped on mules that scampered away out of reach after the first fire.

Paul with hundreds of others, fled to Lima. The city had been taken possession of by a mob of drunken sailors and soldiers, who went about in large bodies, robbing and killing indiscriminately. The streets were strewn with the dead. Next day the foreign residents banded themselves together to put down the mob. Boyton took command of a company of Americans and went through the streets shooting down the rioters wherever found. On a street at one side of the palace a row of little houses was occupied by Jewish money changers. This was an especial point of attack by the rioters on the first night. They were under the impression that loads of money would be found there. Next morning the narrow street was full of dead rioters, showing the desperate and successful defense made by the Jews, who shot the robbers through holes made in their doors and walls.

Hundreds of Chinamen were shot and their valuables taken. The foreign patrols soon beat the mob into submission, and then collecting silks and other goods that had been taken from the people, they placed them in a general repository where they could be claimed by the owners, if alive.

While the rioting was going on in Lima, the Peruvians set fire to all the shipping in the harbor at Callao, to keep it from falling into the hands of the conquerors. The patrols were kept busy until the twentieth of January, when the Chileans marched triumphantly into Lima. The city presented a queer sight. From almost every house the flag of some foreign nation was flying, to save it from pillage and destruction; but scowling faces appeared at the windows. The first act of the Chilean army was to break in and rob the custom house. An attempt was made to restrain the men, but some awful scenes were enacted before it was done.

During this time, Paul and some friends had a chance to visit the battle-fields of Miraflores and Chorrillos. And the sights they witnessed! The gallant, young soldiers who had left Lima in brilliant uniforms, with high hopes of success, and gay songs on their lips, lay a confused ma.s.s of bloated corpses. Four days of tropical sun had made them burst, and the stench was horrible. Dreading contagion, for the field of death lay near to Lima, the Chileans had forced the Chinamen of that city to gather the dead, cover them with kerosene and fire.

After nightfall, the blue glow rising from these awful funeral pyres, lit up the whole field. Bands of Chinamen leading mules who carried panniers containing vessels of kerosene, pa.s.sed around, and whenever they saw a corpse not burning, they struck a hole in it with a spade, poured in the oil and fired. At other points on the road, lay heaps of mangled dead, while the earth around was torn up in most unaccountable manner. This was caused by ground torpedoes placed in the road by some fertile genius, who thought that he could thus destroy the advancing Chileans.

After two or three of those hidden mines had exploded with dreadful effect on the Chilean soldiers, they compelled the Peruvian prisoners to march ahead, and when these were destroyed they set a drove or cattle ahead in self-defense. Chorrilos, where Paul's headquarters had been so long, lay a ma.s.s of ruins. Bodies in every fallen house gave forth the awful stench of human decay.

Paul stood on the cliffs overlooking the pleasant bay, in whose waters his little sloop had been anch.o.r.ed so many times, and beheld the result of a charge of the Chilean army. Bodies of the dead soldiers lay thick under the foot of the cliff, Chilean and Peruvian grasped in each other's arms as they had been hurled in the fury of battle to death below.

Along the beach from the cliffs to the ocean, lay numbers of the soldiers who had been wounded, and while endeavoring to reach the tempting waters and quench their thirst, had perished. Others, who in their delirium had drank its brine, died in more agony, and lay in strings along the side washed by the waves.

At the approach of a human being, flocks of hideous galanasas and great droves of condors would rise lazily, too heavy from their ghastly feast, to flap their monstrous wings.

It was a sight to sicken one forever of the vaunted glories of the battlefield.

Soon after the occupation, General Backadana issued a proclamation requiring all Peruvian officers to surrender. The Chileans knew that Boyton was in the country, and for what purpose, but he surrendered under his a.s.sumed name "Delaport," an engineer.

He was paroled, and went to Ancon, a village on the coast that had been deserted, and no Chilean guards had been placed there.

Plans were laid for his escape; but he found it impossible to get off to a steamer.

He procured a little boat and spent most of the time on the islands off the coast and among the caves, his American friends in Lima sending him provisions. For a companion he had a young Peruvian officer who also thought it well to keep under cover. For three weeks they amused themselves fishing, hunting, exploring, and several times they rowed far out to sea, in the hope of being picked up by some pa.s.sing steamer and taken north, but the hope was not realized.