The Boy Allies at Jutland; Or, The Greatest Naval Battle of HistoryHayes, Clair W. (Clair Wallace)
General
The Boy Allies at Jutland; Or, The Greatest Naval Battle of History
Hayes, Clair W. (Clair Wallace)
Jutland, Battle of, 1916 -- Juvenile fiction; World War, 1914-1918 -- Naval operations -- Juvenile fiction
Then he got to his feet and put his watch in his pocket.
"Guess that settles it," he said. "Now I'll look around for a boat. I
didn't know it was going to be as easy as all that. If I had I would
have had the others wait for me."
He moved toward the companionway, and as he did so, a bullet whistled
by his ear. Harris stepped back in surprise; and in that moment the
solution came to him.
"By Jove! They've fooled me," he muttered. "They poked their caps up
and I shot them full of holes. However, they don't know yet that I'm
out of bullets."
A few moments later a cap again appeared in the opening. Harris had no
bullets to fire at it.
"They'll discover my predicament in a moment or so, though," he told
himself.
He pulled his watch from his pocket and glanced at it.
"An hour," he said. "They have had time enough. However, I'll just see
the thing through."
As he spoke it grew light. Harris looked off across the sea. There, so
far away that it appeared but a speck upon the water, he saw what he
took to be the motor boat bearing his friends to safety. He waved his
cap.
"Good luck!" he said quietly.
Now a German head appeared in the door of the companionway. It was not
a cap this time. Harris saw it, and drawing back his arm, hurled one of
his revolvers swiftly. His aim was true and the weapon struck the
German squarely in the face. With a scream of pain the man fell back
into the arms of his companions.
But Harris' action had told his enemies that he had no more bullets,
and seeing that they had but one man to contend with, the Germans
sprang from their shelter and leaped for him.
Harris clubbed his remaining revolver, and with his back to the pilot
house, where he had retreated, awaited the approach of the four foes.
"You're going to have the fight of your lives," he said grimly.
A German sprang. Harris' arm rose and fell and there was one German
less to contend with. But before Harris could raise his arm again, the
other three had closed in upon him. Harris felt himself borne back.
The former pugilistic champion of the British navy cast all ring ethics
to the winds. He struck, kicked and clawed and sought to wreak what
damage he could upon his enemies without regard for the niceties of
fighting. He knew that they would do the same to him.
So great had been the force of the shock of the three Germans--all that
were now left of the original twelve--that Harris was borne to the
deck. His revolver hand struck the floor with great force and the
weapon was sent spinning from his grasp.
With a mighty effort, he hurled the three men from him and leaped to
his feet. The Germans also arose. Harris did not wait for them to
resume the offensive. With head lowered he charged.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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