A Night-Attack.
The day following the joint adventure of Douglas and Montt in Antofagasta a telegram arrived for the skipper of the Covadonga, ordering him to leave the place immediately, and rejoin the flag at Valparaiso without delay. All shore leave was accordingly stopped, and that same evening the gunboat raised her anchor and steamed out of Chimba Bay, on her way to the headquarters port. The telegram had also contained a warning that the Peruvian warships Huascar and Union were prowling up and down the coast, and, as each one separately was a good deal more than a match for the little Covadonga, it behoved her captain to keep a very sharp look-out for any sign of the enemy, especially as the gunboat was not fast enough to enable her to rely upon her speed for safety.
Men were, consequently, posted at the mastheads, with orders to report directly any sign of a strange ship was seen, and the ship slid slowly along under the stars, keeping as close in to the land as possible. As soon as his watch was at an end that night, Douglas, feeling rather tired after his experience of the previous evening, went down below and turned into his bunk; and it was not very long before he was in the land of dreams.
It seemed to him that he had only just fallen asleep when he was rudely awakened by a commotion up on deck. He lay half awake in his bunk for a minute or two, and heard men running about overhead, the sound of excited voices shouting, and then, loud and clear above the uproar, rang out Carlos Condell’s voice giving orders for the men to be called to quarters and the guns to be cast loose. Evidently, thought Jim, there was more fighting in the wind. He quickly tumbled into his clothes, slung his uniform ulster over his shoulders, for the night was cold, and stumbled up on deck, every pulse in him throbbing with excitement at the anticipation of another encounter with the enemy.
As he dashed up through the hatchway he cannoned into, and almost knocked down, his friend Montt, who was rushing forward with orders from the skipper.
“Hallo, Montt!” Jim ejaculated, “what’s the matter this time?”
“Two steamers have just been sighted coming out of Chañeral Bay, and heading this way,” returned the Chilian, breathlessly. “They are believed to be the Huascar and the corvette Union, and it looks as though they had been up to some mischief in there, for there is a big glare away to the south-east—there, you can see it for yourself!—which seems to point to their having set something on fire. But you mustn’t keep me now, my friend, for it is ‘all hands to quarters and prepare for action’; and, if it should prove to be as we believe, we shall have a tough fight to get clear of these two fellows.” And the gallant first lieutenant bustled away to carry out his orders.
Looking in the direction indicated by Montt, Jim could plainly see the dull, lurid glare of a large fire away to the south-east; and, outlined sharply against the glow, he could also make out, even from the level of the deck, a brig-rigged steamer, which could be none other than the Peruvian monitor; and she was accompanied by a large, three-masted, ship-rigged steamer which was undoubtedly the corvette Union. Whether the enemy had yet sighted the Covadonga was still doubtful, for the gunboat was close in under the high cliffs which formed the coastline at that point, and they would hardly be on the look-out for a vessel so near in to the land. But when they got nearer to her they could hardly help sighting her; and her only hope of ultimate escape was to avoid detection, if possible, until she was nearly abreast of the Peruvians, and then to make a running fight of it, trusting more to her heels than to her fighting powers to enable her to get away.
But the Covadonga could scarcely hope to avoid a fight of some sort; and her gallant skipper, Condell, was not at all the sort of man to wish to do so. He would at any time much rather stay and fight than run, even though hopelessly outmatched; but orders were orders, and he was wanted at Valparaiso, so for once he was forced to acknowledge discretion as the better part of valour.
At this moment, the “word” having been quietly passed, the men came tumbling up on deck, and Jim was obliged to abandon his survey of the Peruvians and attend to his duty of getting his own particular battery of guns ready for the coming encounter. In about ten minutes everything was prepared, and Montt, the first lieutenant, marched into the tiny conning-tower and reported to Condell, “Ship cleared for action, sir.” Jim was then free, for a short time at any rate, to turn his attention once more to the swiftly approaching steamers, which were travelling so fast as to give the impression that they feared pursuit.