“And then, gin that and ma half-broken back werna enough for ony mon, Ah hear some ane shoutit that they thocht that last rammin’ had done in the auld Seagull, and that the time wad soon come to ’bandon ship.
“‘Seagull!’ says Ah; ‘dinna ye ken this ship is the Bow?’ Ah kind o’ went groggy after that, and Ah have a sort o’ dim remembrance that some ane flashit an ’lectric torch in ma face and said that Ah must have been pitchit ower whan the Bow rammed the Seagull, and that Ah prob’ly hadna shaken doon to ma new surroundin’s. Ah tried hard to speir what kind o’ a shakin’ doon they meant gin this hadna been ane. But Ah didna seem to have the power to mak’ ma words come straicht, and they said, ‘He’s gane a bit off his chuck,’ and ca’d some ane to carry me below.
“The pains runnin’ up and doon ma spine when Ah was lowered doon the ladder were ower much for me, and Ah passed off for a bit. Whan Ah cam roun’ Ah was bein’ shoved along the ward-room table—whaur Ah had been lyin’—to mak’ room for
a lad wi’ bandages roun’ his head and a’ drippin’ wi’ salt water. His ship had gone doon twa hours syne, and maist o’ the time he had been in the water or roostin’ on a Carley Float. That lad’s name was Gains, noo the gun-layer o’ the fo’most gun o’ the Spark—him Ah saw ye talkin’ wi’ just noo. He was strong and cheery himsel’, but fower o’ his mates were chilled to the bane, and Ah wacht ’em shiver to death richt afore ma een.
“It was aboot daylicht when we pickit up a’ that was left o’ the crew o’ the Killarney, and aboot an hour efter we fell in wi’ the Sportsman, wha passed us a hawser and tried to tow, stern-first, what was left o’ the Seagull. Ah didna see what was wrang, but they tellt me that the wreck o’ the stern and the helm bein’ jammed hard a-sta’bo’d made sae much drag that the cable partit. Then there was naithing else to do—sin’ the Seagull cudna steam—but to sink her wi’ gun-fire. The captain askit permission for this by W.T., and when it came they ditched the books and signals, transferred abody to the Sportsman, and then gae her a roun’ or twa at the water-line wi’ the Sportsman’s guns. Doon she gaed, and that,” he concluded with a grin, “is the true yarn o’ the sinkin’ o’ the Seagull. If only o’ ma mates try to mak’ ye b’lieve that she foundert ’count o’ bein’ hit and holed by a ‘human proj’ kent as Jock Campbell, I’m hopin’ ye’ll no listen to ’em.”
CHAPTER II
“FIREBRAND”
It was a little incident which occurred one night when the Grand Fleet was returning to Base from one of its periodical sweeps through the North Sea that set Able-seaman Melton talking of the things he had seen and felt and heard the time he was standing anti-submarine watch in the Firebrand, when her flotilla of destroyers mixed itself up with a squadron of German cruisers in the course of the “dog-fight” which concluded the battle of Jutland.