Nor were they disappointed. Into the launch, with several other boats alongside, tumbled forty sailors and twelve marines, armed, and with rapid-fire guns and ammunition. In one of the other boats were additional cases of ammunition; in others were commissary supplies.
Dave received his orders from Executive Officer Warden.
“You will go ashore, Ensign Darrin, and at all hazards reach our fellow Americans. What you shall do on reaching them will depend upon circumstances and upon instructions signaled to you from this ship. Ensign Dalzell will accompany you as next in command. On board we shall keep vigilant watch, and you may rely upon such backing as our guns can give you in any emergency that may come up.”
Dave saluted, with a hearty “Very good, sir,” but asked no questions. None were necessary.
In another moment the landing party had been reinforced by a petty officer and three men who were to bring the boats back to the “Castoga.”
Casting off, the launch headed shoreward, towing the boats astern.
Within three minutes, landing had been made at one of the smaller docks.
“I don’t see any reception committee here to welcome us,” muttered Ensign Dalzell.
“Probably all of the natives, who are curious by nature, are watching the burning of the buildings that our shells set on fire,” returned Ensign Darrin. “But I’m glad there’s no reception party here, for undoubtedly it would be an armed committee.”
As soon as landing had been effected, however, a petty officer, who was sent forward with three men, succeeded in routing out a number of sturdy, sullen coolies, who had been hiding in a near-by warehouse. These yellow men the petty officer marched back briskly, the coolies being forced to pick up and carry the ammunition and food supplies.