Chapter 11
THE CAMPAIGN
So the undiscoverable commander had reappeared upon the territory ofthe United States! He had never shown himself in Europe either on theroads or in the seas. He had not crossed the Atlantic, whichapparently he could have traversed in three days. Did he then intendto make only America the scene of his exploits? Ought we to concludefrom this that he was an American?
Let me insist upon this point. It seemed clear that the submarinemight easily have crossed the vast sea which separates the New andthe Old World. Not only would its amazing speed have made its voyageshort, in comparison to that of the swiftest steamship, but also itwould have escaped all the storms that make the voyage dangerous.Tempests did not exist for it. It had but to abandon the surface ofthe waves, and it could find absolute calm a few score feet beneath.
But the inventor had not crossed the Atlantic, and if he were to becaptured now, it would probably be in Ohio, since Toledo is a city ofthat state.
This time the fact of the machine's appearance had been kept secret,between the police and the agent who had warned them, and whom I washurrying to meet. No journal--and many would have paid high for thechance--was printing this news. We had decided that nothing shouldbe revealed until our effort was at an end. No indiscretion would becommitted by either my comrades or myself.
The man to whom I was sent with an order from Mr. Ward was namedArthur Wells. He awaited us at Toledo. The city of Toledo stands atthe western end of Lake Erie. Our train sped during the night acrossWest Virginia and Ohio. There was no delay; and before noon the nextday the locomotive stopped in the Toledo depot.
John Hart, Nab Walker and I stepped out with traveling bags in ourhands, and revolvers in our pockets. Perhaps we should need weaponsfor an attack, or even to defend ourselves. Scarcely had I steppedfrom the train when I picked out the man who awaited us. He wasscanning the arriving passengers impatiently, evidently as eager andfull of haste as I.
I approached him. "Mr. Wells?" said I.
"Mr. Strock?" asked he.
"Yes."
"I am at your command," said Mr. Wells.
"Are we to stop any time in Toledo?" I asked.
"No; with your permission, Mr. Strock. A carriage with two goodhorses is waiting outside the station; and we must leave at once toreach our destination as soon as possible."
"We will go at once," I answered, signing to my two men to follow us."Is it far?"
"Twenty miles."
"And the place is called?"
"Black Rock Creek."
Having left our bags at a hotel, we started on our drive. Much to mysurprise I found there were provisions sufficient for several dayspacked beneath the seat of the carriage. Mr. Wells told me that theregion around Black Rock Creek was among the wildest in the state.There was nothing there to attract either farmers or fishermen. Wewould find not an inn for our meals nor a room in which to sleep.Fortunately, during the July heat there would be no hardship even ifwe had to lie one or two nights under the stars.
More probably, however, if we were successful, the matter would notoccupy us many hours. Either the commander of the "Terror" would besurprised before he had a chance to escape, or he would take toflight and we must give up all hope of arresting him.
I found Arthur Wells to be a man of about forty, large and powerful.I knew him by reputation to be one of the best of our local policeagents. Cool in danger and enterprising always, he had proven hisdaring on more than one occasion at the peril of his life. He hadbeen in Toledo on a wholly different mission, when chance had thrownhim on the track of the "Terror."
We drove rapidly along the shore of Lake Erie, toward the southwest.This inland sea of water is on the northern boundary of the UnitedStates, lying between Canada on one side and the States of Ohio,Pennsylvania and New York on the other. If I stop to mention thegeographical position of this lake, its depth, its extent, and thewaters nearest around, it is because the knowledge is necessary forthe understanding of the events which were about to happen.
The surface of Lake Erie covers about ten thousand square miles. Itis nearly six hundred feet above sea level. It is joined on thenorthwest, by means of the Detroit River, with the still greaterlakes to the westward, and receives their waters. It has also riversof its own though of less importance, such as the Rocky, theCuyahoga, and the Black. The lake empties at its northeastern endinto Lake Ontario by means of Niagara River and its celebrated falls.
The greatest known depth of Lake Erie is over one hundred and thirtyfeet. Hence it will be seen that the mass of its waters isconsiderable. In short, this is a region of most magnificent lakes.The land, though not situated far northward, is exposed to the fullsweep of the Arctic cold. The region to the northward is low, and thewinds of winter rush down with extreme violence. Hence Lake Erie issometimes frozen over from shore to shore.
The principal cities on the borders of this great lake are Buffalo atthe east, which belongs to New York State, and Toledo in Ohio, at thewest, with Cleveland and Sandusky, both Ohio cities, at the south.Smaller towns and villages are numerous along the shore. The trafficis naturally large, its annual value being estimated at considerablyover two million dollars.
Our carriage followed a rough and little used road along the bordersof the lake; and as we toiled along, Arthur Wells told me, what hehad learned.
Less than two days before, on the afternoon of July twenty-seventhWells had been riding on horseback toward the town of Herly. Fivemiles outside the town, he was riding through a little wood, when hesaw, far up across the lake, a submarine which rose suddenly abovethe waves. He stopped, tied his horse, and stole on foot to the edgeof the lake. There, from behind a tree he had seen with his own eyesseen this submarine advance toward him, and stop at the mouth ofBlack Rock Creek. Was it the famous machine for which the whole worldwas seeking, which thus came directly to his feet?
When the submarine was close to the rocks, two men climbed out uponits deck and stepped ashore. Was one of them this Master of theWorld, who had not been seen since he was reported from LakeSuperior? Was this the mysterious "Terror" which had thus risen fromthe depths of Lake Erie?
"I was alone," said Wells. "Alone on the edge of the Creek. If youand your assistants, Mr. Strock had been there, we four against two,we would have been able to reach these men and seize them before theycould have regained their boat and fled."
"Probably," I answered. "But were there no others on the boat withthem? Still, if we had seized the two, we could at least have learnedwho they were."
"And above all," added Wells, "if one of them turned out to be thecaptain of the 'Terror!'"
"I have only one fear, Wells; this submarine, whether it is the onewe seek or another, may have left the creek since your departure."
"We shall know about that in a few hours, now. Pray Heaven they arestill there! Then when night comes?"
"But," I asked, "did you remain watching in the wood until night?"
"No; I left after an hour's watching, and rode straight for thetelegraph station at Toledo. I reached there late at night and sentimmediate word to Washington."
"That was night before last. Did you return yesterday to Black RockCreek?"
"Yes."
"The submarine was still there?"
"In the same spot."
"And the two men?"
"The same two men. I judge that some accident had happened, and theycame to this lonely spot to repair it."
"Probably so," said I. "Some damage which made it impossible for themto regain their usual hiding-place. If only they are still here!"
"I have reason to believe they will be, for quite a lot of stuff wastaken out of the boat, and laid about upon the shore; and as well asI could discern from a distance they seemed to be working on board."
"Only the two men?"
"Only the two."
"But," protested I, "can two be sufficient to handle an apparatus ofsuch speed, and of such intricacy, as to be at once automobile, boatand su
bmarine?"
"I think not, Mr. Strock; but I only saw the same two. Several timesthey came to the edge of the little wood where I was hidden, andgathered sticks for a fire which they made upon the beach. The regionis so uninhabited and the creek so hidden from the lake that they ranlittle danger of discovery. They seemed to know this."
"You would recognize them both again?"
"Perfectly. One was of middle size, vigorous, and quick of movement,heavily bearded. The other was smaller, but stocky and strong.Yesterday, as before, I left the wood about five o'clock and hurriedback to Toledo. There I found a telegram from Mr. Ward, notifying meof your coming; and I awaited you at the station."
Summed up, then, the news amounted to this: For forty hours past asubmarine, presumably the one we sought, had been hidden in BlackRock Creek, engaged in repairs. Probably these were absolutelynecessary, and we should find the boat still there. As to how the"Terror" came to be in Lake Erie, Arthur Wells and I discussed that,and agreed that it was a very probable place for her. The last timeshe had been seen was on Lake Superior. From there to Lake Erie themachine could have come by the roads of Michigan, but since no onehad remarked its passage and as both the police and the people werespecially aroused and active in that portion of the country, itseemed more probable, that the "Terror" had come by water. There wasa clear route through the chain of the Great Lakes and their rivers,by which in her character of a submarine she could easily proceedundiscovered.
And now, if the "Terror" had already left the creek, or if sheescaped when we attempted to seize her, in what direction would sheturn? In any case, there was little chance o following her. Therewere two torpedo-destroyers at the port of Buffalo, at the otherextremity of Lake Erie. By treaty between the United States andCanada, there are no vessels of war whatever on the Great Lakes.These might, however, have been little launches belonging to thecustoms service. Before I left Washington Mr. Ward had informed meof their presence; and a telegram to their commanders would, if therewere need, start them in pursuit of the "Terror." But despite theirsplendid speed, how could they vie with her! And if she plungedbeneath the waters, they would be helpless. Moreover Arthur Wellsaverred that in case of a battle, the advantage would not be with thedestroyers, despite their large crews, and many guns. Hence, if wedid not succeed this night, the campaign would end in failure.
Arthur Wells knew Black Rock Creek thoroughly, having hunted theremore than once. It was bordered in most places with sharp rocksagainst which the waters of the lake beat heavily. Its channel wassome thirty feet deep, so that the "Terror" could take shelter eitherupon the surface or under water. In two or three places the steepbanks gave way to sand beaches which led to little gorges reaching uptoward the woods, two or three hundred feet.
It was seven in the evening when our carriage reached these woods.There was still daylight enough for us to see easily, even in theshade of the trees. To have crossed openly to the edge of the creekwould have exposed us to the view of the men of the "Terror," if shewere still there, and thus give her warning to escape.
"Had we better stop here?" I asked Wells, as our rig drew up to theedge of the woods.
"No, Mr. Strock," said he. "We had better leave the carriage deeperin the woods, where there will be no chance whatever of our beingseen."
"Can the carriage drive under these trees?"
"It can," declared Wells. "I have already explored these woodsthoroughly. Five or six hundred feet from here, there is a littleclearing, where we will be completely hidden, and where our horsesmay find pasture. Then, as soon as it is dark, we will go down to thebeach, at the edge of the rocks which shut in the mouth of the creek.Thus if the 'Terror' is still there, we shall stand between her andescape."
Eager as we all were for action, it was evidently best to do as Wellssuggested and wait for night. The intervening time could well beoccupied as he said. Leading the horses by the bridle, while theydragged the empty carriage, we proceeded through the heavy woods. Thetall pines, the stalwart oaks, the cypress scattered here and there,made the evening darker overhead. Beneath our feet spread a carpet ofscattered herbs, pine needles and dead leaves. Such was the thicknessof the upper foliage that the last rays of the setting sun could nolonger penetrate here. We had to feel our way; and it was not withoutsome knocks that the carriage reached the clearing ten minutes later.
This clearing, surrounded by great trees, formed a sort of oval,covered with rich grass. Here it was still daylight, and the darknesswould scarcely deepen for over an hour. There was thus time toarrange an encampment and to rest awhile after our hard trip over therough and rocky roads.
Of course, we were intensely eager to approach the Creek and see ifthe "Terror" was still there. But prudence restrained us. A littlepatience, and the night-would enable us to reach a commandingposition unsuspected. Wells urged this strongly; and despite myeagerness, I felt that he was right.
The horses were unharnessed, and left to browse under the care of thecoachman who had driven us. The provisions were unpacked, and JohnHart and Nab Walker spread out a meal on the grass at the foot of asuperb cypress which recalled to me the forest odors of Morganton andPleasant Garden. We were hungry and thirsty; and food and drink werenot lacking. Then our pipes were lighted to calm the anxious momentsof waiting that remained.
Silence reigned within the wood. The last song of the birds hadceased. With the coming of night the breeze fell little by little,and the leaves scarcely quivered even at the tops of the highestbranches. The sky darkened rapidly after sundown and twilightdeepened into obscurity.
I looked at my watch, it was half-past eight. "It is time, Wells."
"When you will, Mr. Strock."
"Then let us start."
We cautioned the coachman not to let the horses stray beyond theclearing. Then we started. Wells went in advance, I followed him, andJohn Hart and Nab Walker came behind. In the darkness, we three wouldhave been helpless without the guidance of Wells. Soon we reached thefarther border of the woods; and before us stretched the banks ofBlack Rock Creek.
All was silent; all seemed deserted. We could advance without risk.If the "Terror" was there, she had cast anchor behind the rocks. Butwas she there? That was the momentous question! As we approached thedenouement of this exciting affair, my heart was in my throat.
Wells motioned to us to advance. The sand of the shore crunchedbeneath our steps. The two hundred feet between us and the mouth ofthe Creek were crossed softly, and a few minutes sufficed to bring usto the rocks at the edge of the lake.
There was nothing! Nothing!
The spot where Wells had left the "Terror" twenty-four hours beforewas empty. The "Master of the World" was no longer at Black RockCreek.