The North Pacific. Willis Boyd Allen
moment over the group.
"If I could I would tell you, without reserve, where we are bound; but I do not know myself," added Rexdale. "There are new complications in the far East – that is all I know. We sail under sealed orders, to be opened at sea, twenty-four hours out."
He rose from his chair, to signify that the interview was ended. As the officers filed out to their respective quarters, the pantry door, which, though no one noticed it, had been slightly ajar, closed noiselessly. Behind it were two Japanese, grasping each other's hands and looking into each other's eyes. Their breath came quickly; their eyes glowed.
"Banzai!" they whispered. "Teikoku banzai! Long live the Empire!"
CHAPTER IV.
UNCLE SAM'S PACKING
When the family of a citizen in private life makes up its mind to a long journey to foreign shores, great is the confusion, and multitudinous the errands and minor purchases for the trip; trunks, half-packed, block the sitting-room and hall-ways; Polly flies up-stairs and down distractedly, Molly spends hours uncounted (but not uncharged-for) at the dressmaker's, Dick burns midnight oil over guide-books and itineraries, and even paterfamilias feels the restlessness and turmoil of the times, and declaims against extravagance as the final packing discloses the calls that are to be made upon his bank account.
If a vacation trip for a single family is productive of such a month of busy preparation, what must be the commotion on a war-ship starting for the Far East, with a crew of one or two hundred men and only a week allowed for packing!
The officers and enlisted men of the Osprey had their hands full in the days that followed the banquet.
In ordinary times it takes one hundred skilled men a full week to stow away provisions, supplies, ammunition, coal, and the thousand and one minor articles that are needed on board one of the larger war-ships. The ship's crew lend a hand, but they operate only under the direction of the staff of trained stevedores which is kept on duty at the Navy Yard.
Everything must be put away "snug and shipshape"; and goods are "stowed snug" where they occupy the least possible space, for every inch counts in the narrow limits of a ship. Then, too, they must be so stevedored that they will keep their original positions during the rolling and pitching of the vessel in a seaway.
More than this is required. There must be perfect order with the greatest degree of safety attainable. Inflammable or explosive substances must not be stowed together, and the arrangement must be such that any article needed can be reached on the instant. Emergencies often arise in which the safety of the ship itself is dependent on having needed appliances or material in the hands of certain officers without a moment's delay. It may be nothing more than a case of oil, or it may be the duplicate of some broken rod, bolt, or plate of the delicate mechanism of the great propelling engine or of the dynamo, which is the very life centre of the modern war-ship.
Paterfamilias, grumbling at the shopping memorandum of his wife and daughters on the eve of their Mediterranean vacation trip, would gasp at the list which Uncle Sam must fill, for a long cruise of one of his naval vessels. Here is a single order sent to one wholesale house on the Osprey's account, that week in June: Loaf sugar, brown sugar, powdered sugar, fair molasses, Ceylon tea, Hyson tea, Java coffee, Rio coffee, smoked ham, American rice, breakfast bacon, lambs' tongues, pigs' feet, corned beef, corned pork, leaf lard, dried peas, dried beans, coffee extract, chiccory, chocolate, Swiss cheese, English cheese, New York dairy cheese, canned tomatoes, canned peaches, canned onions, canned asparagus, canned peas, canned corn, canned beets, olives and olive oil, sauces and catsups, oatmeal and flour, limes and lemons, fruit jellies, condensed meats, beef extracts, Jamaica ginger, mustard and spices, cigars and tobacco, corn-meal and hominy, sago and tapioca, crackers and biscuits, lime juice, fresh and limed eggs, baking powder, canned cherries, canned plums, canned pears, canned rhubarb, dried apples, canned salmon, canned oysters, canned clams, sardines, canned lobster, canned mackerel, canned codfish, kippered herring, Yarmouth bloaters, canned ox tongues, canned tripe, canned mutton, canned chicken, canned turkey, canned soups, condensed milk, canned pickles, vinegar, salt, pepper, canned mushrooms, macaroni, vermicelli, laundry soap, toilet soap, sapolio, starch and blue, insect powder, candles, safety matches, stationery, rope and twine, smoking pipes, tubs and washboards, chloride of lime, ammonia, alcohol and paints, shoe blacking, sewing machines.
From this partial list an idea may be formed of the extent and variety of the supplies that go to a modern war-ship. The clothing, medical and mechanical departments of the Osprey's outfit are not included, and each in itself would make a long roll. Of course the delicacies mentioned above are for the officers' use alone. When in port or on a short cruise the sailors get fresh meat, bread, fruit, vegetables and milk. On a long voyage their staple is "salt horse, hard tack, and boot-leg," which, being translated, is corned beef or pork, with crackers and black coffee. They receive frequently, too, oatmeal and rice, hot rolls and tea.
It will be noted that the important items of ice and fresh water do not appear in the list of supplies. Neither is taken aboard from the outside. The ship condenses fresh water pumped in from the sea by ingenious machinery contrived for the purpose, and the supply is limitless. From this fresh water ice is manufactured in any quantity desired, and no properly appointed modern war-ship is now without its ice-plant. It is for the manufacture of ice that ammonia is so largely shipped.
In the general disposition of the stores and supplies the articles likely to be needed for immediate use are usually stored forward under the berth deck. Such stores as cloth and made-up wearing apparel go in the lower hold, and there are also nearly all the magazines, guncotton, and torpedo-heads, if the ship carries them.
The coal bunkers on the Osprey were located between the engines and boilers and the hull of the vessel, at a point a little abaft of midship. Thus the coal afforded protection to the machinery from projectiles aimed at the most vital part of the ship. Such inflammable liquids as oil and alcohol are never stowed below.
Allusion has been made to the "life centre" of the vessel. This has been well described as the throbbing heart of every war-ship in the navy; the wires radiating from it like veins and arteries through which flow the life and intelligence which direct the movements of ship and crew.
Innumerable electric lamps light the cabins, engine-rooms, magazines, conning towers and decks, while a finger's pressure on a knob, or the turn of a tiny handle, throws a flood of radiance streaming out into the black night, disclosing the enemy and rendering futile his attack or escape as the case may be. Other wires operate telegraph, telephone, and signal from the bridge, or move compartment doors, massive guns, and, on a battle-ship the huge turrets themselves.
With a ship elaborately wired one chance shot of the enemy may thus prove fatal. If a shell should happen to force its terrible way into the dynamo room and explode there, the guns would cease firing, every light would be extinguished, every officer cut off from rapid communication with his men; and the delay consequent on this derangement would give the enemy, quivering with light and life, time to pour her tons of steel projectiles into the helpless, groping victim until she foundered.
At the end of the sixth day, the Osprey was ready for sea. Her men, her stores, supplies, coal and ammunition were on board, well stowed. Rexdale drew a long breath of relief, and Paymaster Ross another, as the last account was filed that night. The commander wrote a long letter to his wife, Hallie, before retiring. She was visiting friends in the West, and he had no opportunity to see her before starting on what was doubtless to be a cruise to the other side of the world. This is a part of a naval officer's life. "Detached," from this place to that, from one ship, or one duty, to another, says the brief naval report. The officer receives his written orders, and if his heart aches a little, under his blue uniform, no one knows it but the one who receives the good-bye letter, hurriedly sent by the despatch-boat or the orderly; and he is ready for the new post.
Paymaster Ross, meanwhile, is busy with half a hundred lists and receipts and accounts. He it is who knows accurately the pay of every man on board. Look over his shoulder and read in his "Register" of current date the salaries that our National Uncle pays to his nephews for naval services:
It