Chapter XV

THE CRUISER IN DANGER--A PRICE ON YOUNG GLORY'S HEAD.

The ship was saved.

Thanks to Young Glory, the plot of the Spanish officers was defeated.

It may be imagined how heartily Lieutenant Tyler thanked the young hero, and also how grateful Young Glory was to Dan Daly for the shot that disposed of Manuel.

Henceforth, the Spanish officers were treated the same as the men. They had shown that they were not to be trusted, and for security's sake they were held as prisoners.

"So you didn't know me, Dan?"

"Faith, no, why it's a great detective ye'd be afther making."

"It was easy work, Dan. Well, we've had a hot time of it lately. I suppose we'll run now to Key West without a hitch."

"Shure, an' I hope not. It's the beautiful ship we have now. If we're afther meetin' a Spaniard it's a great time we'll be havin'."

"You'll be disappointed, Dan. Spanish ships are tired of showing themselves in these waters."

It seemed as if Young Glory was right.

The time passed, and though a good lookout was kept, not one of the enemy's fleet hove in sight.

The Cristobal Colon was running along the northern coast of Cuba now. Since she had parted with the gun-boat she had seen nothing of the latter. No doubt the Nashville was on its way to Key West.

The third day from Porto Rico found the cruiser lying off Mulas. The island jutted out prominently here, and the water being deep, the prize steamed along close in to shore.

"What's that?" asked Dan.

"A town, to be sure."

"An' it's a quare flag that's flying!"

"It's the Cuban flag. All this coast is in the hands of the insurgents."

"More power to them!"

"So say I, but what are we doing?"

"Running in to shore, Young Glory, though it's meself can't say why."

"It's water we want," said Lieutenant Tyler. "There's a good landing place here, deep water, and water, too, and as the town is in the hands of the insurgents, it's too good a chance to lose. Put her right in," he cried. "We run no risk."

The seamen were delighted at the prospect. Very few of them had stepped on dry land for many weeks, and it seemed certain that they would have a few hours ashore at any rate.

"The patriots will be delighted when they find we've taken the Spanish cruiser, sir."

"I expect they know it. This boat's a different build to anything in our navy."

Boom! At this point a gun was fired from shore.

"Giving us a salute!" cried a young officer.

"Of a kind I don't like," answered the lieutenant in a sharp tone. "Salutes are all very well, but not when given in the form of a shell."

The cruiser replied by firing one of its saluting guns.

"No doubt a mistake," was the lieutenant's comment, "but very careless not to know that the gun was shotted."

Boom!

There was a furious shout on the cruiser now. For another gun was fired, and this time a great shell passed over the deck, landing in the water about three hundred yards away.

"No mistake this time!" cried Young Glory, savagely.

"Must be. Up with our colors. Show them another American flag. Then there can't be any excuse."

Up went the Stars and Stripes, amid the cheers of the sailors.

The instant it did the firing on shore began in real earnest.

A number of masked batteries opened fire on the cruiser, and shot and shell flew to the right and left of it.

Lieutenant Tyler was beside himself with rage.

What did it mean?

"It's a trap, sir, and we've fallen into it," said Young Glory. "That town is in Spanish hands, and the Cuban flag was run up to deceive us."

"Open fire, lads!" cried Mr. Tyler. "We'll show them that two can play at that game."

Crash!

"The ship's aground!"

This was the cry now, and it turned out to be true.

The Cristobal Colon was on a shoal.

Boom! Boom!

Her guns were being fired furiously, but Lieutenant Tyler saw with a face of concern that the shore batteries were situated at such a height, that it was quite impossible for him to train his guns on them.

Meanwhile, there the cruiser stuck, a target for the enemy to practice upon.

The engines were reversed. It was no good. The bottom of the cruiser was embedded in a bank of sand, and it was quite immovable.

The men were aghast.

"They'll come out and board us!" said one.

"Shure, it's not such fools they'll be."

"Why not, Dan?"

"Because they've all day to fire at us. Begorra, it's sunk we'll be."

"We can't get off, Young Glory," said Mr. Tyler to the young sailor.

"So I see, sir. But we shall."

"Not for two hours."

"Two hours, sir?"

"Yes, the tide's flowing now. I estimate in two hours' time there'll be enough depth of water to float us off that bank."

"If we're here to be floated," answered Young Glory, gloomily.

"That is so. A shot may send us to the bottom at any time."

"It's a case for desperate measures, sir."

"Desperate! I see nothing."

"Sir, let us land and storm the batteries."

"What! with our small force?"

"Enough, sir, if we take them all."

"And the ship, Young Glory?"

"The men are not wanted here, sir. It's useless working the guns, because we can't do any damage with them, and the Spaniards won't attempt to board us."

"It must be done. There's nothing else left."

Mr. Tyler shouted forth his orders. All was excitement now. When the men knew what decision had been come to they were delighted, for desperate though the undertaking appeared to be, it was better than staying on the ship to be sunk with it.

On the weather side of the ship the boats were manned.

Lieut. Tyler, in person, led the attack, and his forces counted, all told, about one hundred and fifty men.

"A handful," said Young Glory.

"Maybe," said Dan, laughing, "but, begorra! the hand isn't made that'll squeeze us."

The Spaniards, strangely enough, made no effort to oppose the landing. Probably they thought the prey so easy of capture that they wished to tackle them at close quarters. Not a shot was fired as the boats rowed towards the shore.

"This means an ambush," said Young Glory.

Mr. Tyler thought the same, and he was actively on the alert.

The boats were drawn up on the beach, and the men were so eager to get to close quarters with the enemy that they dashed at a furious pace towards the steep and rugged path that led to the batteries.

Young Glory was at their head. Dan was a few paces behind him.

Suddenly, from a wood to the left dashed a body of Spanish soldiers, over a hundred strong, and at the same time nearly two hundred of the enemy came rushing down the hill to the right.

"Between two fires!" cried Young Glory.

Round he glanced quickly, and as he did so, he saw not far away a number of great rocks, forming almost a semi-circle, with the sea in the rear.

"Forward, lads!" he shouted loudly.

The men dashed after him, Mr. Tyler in vain trying to check them.

It looked as if Young Glory was about to charge the great force that was rushing down the hill, but such was not Young Glory's intention. The Spaniards speedily discovered what his plan was. Then a mad race took place to see which party should first arrive at the group of rocks.

"We are safe, sir!" cried Young Glory breathlessly, as he and his comrades reached the haven.

"Yes, it's a natural fortress. We can hold out against five hundred men. Let them have it, lads!"

"It's hail Columbia we'll give them!"

Hurrah! Crack! Crack!

The sailors fired furiously now. The Spaniards fell at every shot. But they did not retreat. Instead of doing so the two forces joined, and together they came with a mad rush at the rocks, behind which stood the seamen, awaiting the enemy's attack.

"Don't waste a shot now!" cried Mr. Tyler, and his men waited till the enemy were quite near.

Then a terrific volley was poured forth. Not less than thirty men fell, but their comrades came on just the same. Crack! Crack!

Again the seamen fired, and then such of the Spaniards as survived bounded like deer at the rocks, trying to scale them.

It was a hand to hand fight now, in which the advantage lay almost entirely with the defenders.

The cutlass and pistol did great work at close quarters.

Not more than ten Spaniards got inside the inclosure, and they never got out again.

Dan was fighting furiously by Young Glory's side, and the two men seemed to bear charmed lives.

"Kill that yellow-haired dog!" cried a voice in the Spanish ranks; "it's Young Glory!"

Young Glory!

How savagely the Spaniards echoed the name.

"One thousand dollars to the man who kills him!" shouted the same voice.

And then a dozen men, burning to be able to claim the reward, sprang at the rock behind which Young Glory stood.