The North Pacific. Willis Boyd Allen
cabin of the Osprey was prettily decorated with ferns and flowers, and there was little to suggest warfare, the roar of cannon, the cries of the fierce combatants, in its dainty appointments. It fell about, however, that, as was natural, the conversation at length turned to the navies of the great nations, and, in comparison, that of the United States.
"Where do we stand, among the other Powers – in point of naval strength, I mean?" asked some one.
The commandant had excused himself on the plea of important duty, and had returned to his office on the Yard. Oddly enough, it was the civilian that answered the question, before any one else could recall the figures.
"We are fifth in rank," said Larkin, helping himself to a banana. "If we carry out our present rather indefinite plans we shall be, by 1908, the third in strength, possibly the second, with only England ahead of us."
"Do you happen to remember the approximate number of large ships in the English navy?" asked Dobson.
"I'm sorry to say I do not," replied the reporter.
"I do," put in Ensign Liddon, who had had time to collect his thoughts and statistics. "England has two hundred and one, not counting gunboats, torpedo-boats, and other small craft – "
"Small! Do you call this ship small?" cried Ethelwyn indignantly.
"She'd look like a kitten beside her mother if a first-class battleship ranged alongside," laughed Liddon. "Well, I was about to add that France has ninety-six big ships, Russia fifty-nine, and Germany seventy-three. The United States has only sixty-five."
"How many has Japan?" inquired Rexdale significantly. Just behind his shoulder a pair of dark, obliquely-set eyes flashed at the question.
"Forty-four, I believe. She would have a poor show at sea against Russia's fifty-nine."
"Oshima, there, doesn't seem to agree with you," said Dr. Cutler lightly, nodding in the direction of the steward.
All eyes were turned to the little Japanese, who drew back modestly.
"Well, boy, speak your mind for once," said Rexdale. "What do you think about the chances of Nippon against the Russian Bear?"
"I was t'inking," said Oshima, whose English was not quite as perfect as his comrade's, "of man behind gun."
The phrase was already a favourite in the navy, and a round of hearty applause followed the diminutive waiter as he retired in some confusion.
"Let's go on deck," suggested Starr. "It's getting pretty hot down here."
The commander set the example by rising, and the whole party adjourned to the quarter-deck, where chairs had been placed for them. The gentlemen lit their cigars, "not (Starr gravely remarked) because they wanted to, but purely to keep the mosquitoes away from the ladies."
Overhead the June stars were shining, lights flashed across the river, and distant shouts came softly over the water. The young people sprang to their feet and declared they must walk a bit. What they talked about as they paced to and fro – Bob Starr with Wynnie, Liddon with Edith, and Dobson with Mary – is of no consequence. It is probable that the two sisters explained to their respective escorts that in the early fall they expected to travel to India, China, and Japan, going via San Francisco, and returning through Europe. Whereupon it is more than likely that the young gentlemen in white duck expressed themselves as plunged in despair at the prospect of having to remain on the North Atlantic Station, with even a vague and disgusting possibility of "shore duty" for one or both!
Meanwhile the older members of the party renewed the conversation which had been broken off when the girls rose from table.
"If we are to keep up with foreign Powers," said Dr. Cutler, striking his hand upon his knee, "much more if we are to pass any of them in naval rank, we must hurry up our ship-builders. Germany expects her battleship in commission in three years and a half from the day when the keel is down. We have one under construction now that was begun over five years ago."
"What does a modern battleship cost?" asked the older lady, who was one of the quarter-deck group.
"About eight million dollars," replied Rexdale. "And a right lively war costs the country a million dollars a day, in round numbers."
"And all of it absolutely consumed, burnt up, eaten, thrown away," added the doctor. "It is not like expenses for construction; it is all for destruction."
"My idea of a good-sized navy's mission is to keep the peace, so that there'll be no war," put in Staples, who had been rather silent thus far.
"Staples was the only man in our Plebe class who actually fought a battle with a second-year man," laughed Dave. "I like to hear him preach peace!"
"Perhaps you remember," said the other grimly, "that no more fights were necessary. One good upper-cut on that fellow's jaw won peace for the whole crowd. If Dewey hadn't sunk the Spanish fleet at Manila we might have been fighting the Dons to this day."
"Will the Japs fight Russia, do you think?" asked Larkin. "If they do, that may mean a job for 'yours truly.'"
"Certainly it looks like trouble over there," said Rexdale soberly. "The Russians are steadily advancing to the Pacific – already they have one hand on Vladivostock and the other on Port Arthur. Japan, crowded in its little group of islands just out of sight of Korea, feels the danger and the menace. Both nations have been preparing for a big war for years, I am told."
"But Russia enormously outnumbers the Japanese," said Dr. Cutler. "She has an army, they say, of four and a half million men, against Japan's six hundred thousand – "
"Aye, but where are those four millions?" put in Rexdale warmly. "Separated from the fighting line, which we can call Korea and the coast of Manchuria, by six thousand miles, with only a single-track railroad between Moscow and Port Arthur. The Japs could handle them one at a time like the Spartans at – at – where was it?"
"Thermopylæ, sir," remarked Doc. Liddon, who had paused a moment in his walk, attracted by the commander's earnestness.
"Thanks – Greek history never was my strong point at school!" said Dave with a good-humoured laugh. Then, resuming: "As to the Russian navy, matters would be just as bad. Half her ships at least must be in the Baltic to protect her home ports – "
Before he could proceed further, an interruption occurred. An orderly mounted the steps to the quarter-deck and with the usual stiff salute handed Rexdale a letter, marked "Important and Immediate."
The commander broke open the envelope. He had no sooner read the few lines it contained than he sprang to his feet.
"Madam," he said abruptly but courteously, "and gentlemen, I am sorry to bring our pleasant party to an end, but my orders leave me no choice. Mr. Staples, I must see you and the rest of the officers at once in my cabin. Orderly, attend the ladies through the Yard. Good-night, all!"
Hurriedly the girls ran below for their wraps, wondering what the mysterious orders could be that compelled them to retire so early and brought that new ring to the commander's tones. They bade good-night to the young officers, who would fain have escorted them to their home, but Rexdale was obliged to refuse his permission.
"Good-night! good-night! We shall see you again soon!" called the girlish voices from the wharf, while their late companions swung their hats gallantly on the deck of the Osprey.
"Gentlemen," said Rexdale in grave, earnest tones, when they were all gathered once more in the cabin, "I have important news for you. We are ordered to coal and take on stores and ammunition for sea without delay, sailing one week from to-day, if possible. You will see that this is done promptly, and that every man reports for duty to-morrow, all shore leave being withdrawn."
Not a man there but longed to ask, "What is our port of destination?" but discipline prevailed. Their lips remained closed. They were no longer a party of young fellows chatting and laughing gaily as they performed their pleasant social duties and joked with their merry guests; they were officers in the United States Navy, ready for the duty at hand; willing to go to the ends of the earth, to encounter danger in its most appalling forms, to give their lives, if need be, for their country. Silence settled for