Chapter THIRTY-EIGHT

On the following morning when the sun burst over the eastern horizon with the sudden blaze of tropical brilliance the cruiser “New Orleans” was already within a few miles of Patrocinio’s southern shore. The landing party was standing by fully armed, ready to board the launches which were already in the water alongside the cruiser.

On the bridge Captain Moore and the navigating officer were scanning the island through their marine glasses for any sign of the pirates.

As soon as Redmond came up on the deck the order to move was given and the men filed down the accommodation ladder into the boats. When this task had been completed the boats cast off.

Each of the launches was equipped with a one pounder quick fire gun in its bows, each of these manned by a gunner. On the cruiser the guncrews were standing by the six inch rifles ready to shell the island in case an attack was made upon the boats during their passage to the landing place.

As the boats left the cruiser Lieutenant Lockwood, who had been placed in command of the landing party, turned to Redmond and said:

“Do you think that outfit is still on this side of the island?”

“Well, of course I can’t say,” replied Redmond, “but my guess is that they are not. I think they withdrew to the other side.”

“Well, we’ll soon find out,” said Lockwood with a laugh.

The run to the beach was quickly made, and a landing affected without any untoward event. Lockwood got his men lined up and was about to give the order to advance when a terrific explosion seaward halted him abruptly.

“My God what was that?” he exclaimed as he, in unison with the rest, turned and looked south. One quick glance revealed the cause.

Flying moderately low, the pirate airplane was sweeping around the cruiser in rapid vicious circles in a maneuvre of attack. The “New Orleans” was already under way, gathering headway very fast and zigzaging on her course.

As the men ashore watched with pent up excitement they saw a flash as the cruiser opened up with its anti-aircraft guns a vigorous cannonade upon the pirate. It was clear that the latter was maneuvring for the best position to bomb the cruiser, and the explosion which had been heard ashore was undoubtedly caused by the first bomb dropped to find the range. It had not apparently come close enough to do any damage.

The effect of the rapid fire from the “New Orleans” was quickly evidenced by the higher altitude which the pirate climbed to.

“Gee!” exclaimed Lockwood, “that’s great shooting. The higher they force him the less chance he has to hit ’em. Go to it boys!” he cried excitedly.

For the moment all caution and discipline disappeared, and the men crowded around their officer to watch the unusual skirmish, shouting unheard words of encouragement to their distant shipmates.

It was not long before the second bomb fell. It hit the water with a resounding explosion, sending up a mountainous wave which blotted out the cruiser from the watchers ashore who strained their utmost to follow the effect. By this time the cruiser was close to the horizon, and it was difficult indeed to see it.

“Good God! That was close,” exclaimed Lockwood anxiously. A few seconds later he sighed with relief as he saw the cruiser emerge from the obscuring but diminishing wave.

The whole thing had only occupied a few seconds but it seemed like an eternity to those ashore. Throughout the suspense there had been a ray of comfort for them in the continuous cracking reports which told them that the aerial guns of the war-vessel were still going.

Suddenly there was a lull in the sound of the firing. Instinctively all ashore looked up, and in the sky above the distant horizon they could dimly see a number of specks about the pirate aircraft which by this time was barely visible. Pretty soon there came to them the staccato roar of machine gun fire.

“Hurrah!” shouted the men in glee, while Lockwood added joyously: “There are the reinforcements. It’s a squadron of our airplanes. Captain Moore’s quit firing because he doesn’t want to hit any of our fellows. That’s it sure.”

Redmond was not so jubilant. In fact he was greatly worried because in his mind there surged the memory of the last aerial battle between the pirate and the government aircraft. He immediately realized that unless the latter were much better equipped now, they did not stand a chance, despite their superior numbers.

The battle was being fought at terrific speed, and Johnston was evidently using every maneuvre he could execute in fighting the squadron. The changing tactics brought the contending machine nearer to the island.

At this point Redmond observed that the government pilots were not flying in squadron formation. Instead they were spread out widely and were at different altitudes, with at least five hundred feet separating any two of them. He rightly guessed that this tactic was being followed as a result of the experience gained in the previous encounter with the pirate.

At every opportunity each of the government ships fired a burst of tracer bullets at the pirate, who was maneuvring his plane with great skill, but Redmond’s expert eye quickly saw that Johnston, good as he undoubtedly was, could not compare with Levanter, and he realized that in this equality alone lay the greatest opportunity for the government craft.

The pirate gunner was fighting back vigorously whenever a chance occurred. He too was using his machine gun for all it was worth. By this time the fight was directly over the beach on which the landing party was standing. Every man had his neck craned, watching intently, almost breathlessly.

Suddenly the leading government plane shot straight across the nose of the pirate machine, level with it, and released a burst of fire which raked the pirate at short range and apparently damaged his starboard propeller.

Undaunted the pirate let loose with his three inch gun, loaded with one of the deadly liquid oxygen shells. It caught the government ship squarely. A violent flash of flame broke out momentarily like a jewel in the daylight, and what was left of the government craft plunged like a plummet into the ocean, a hundred yards from the beach. The first blood was with the pirate.