THE "TINSARDINES."

SUBMARINE ATTACKS. THE "DARK GREY POLE." [Baron von Dewitz a Danish subject with evident pro-German sym- | pathies has written in tie subjoined article a vivid description of an imaginary attack of a submarine upon a warship. By a tratnsposition in the imagination by which the Cunard liner Lusitania, is substituted for the fictitious man-o'-war, one get a guccint idiea of the submarine's part in the tragedy off the., coast of Ireland.]

The haze of early dawn broods over . the bight of Heligoland. A pale and chilly sunrise pecks cautiously over the Friesian dunes outlining the crags of ■the island fortress crested with cannon. Slowly the pale beams filter through the curtain lifting a cover in places like a "hausfrau" making up her bed. The sea sleeps calm and frigid like a great undulating jelly sealed under a blanket of haze. The stillness is oppressive, ominous. It is broken at intervals but not re lieved, by gruff, muffled, thuds from the inner harbour — from the dim, hidden distance, of warlike mystery and menace. Were it not for the portly, rubicund buoys that gasp and cough their warning notes, swaying lazily in the tide, one would fancy a school of sea lions barking a salute to the sun. Beyond the cordon of buoys a row of painted poles sail in the inlet, marking the channel that is loaded with anchor mines. The poles are bobbing gently up and down like floats in some gian fishing tackle. One of the poles seems to be drifting away from the line-. It is of a dark grey colour. Curiously enough, it moves against the tide, leaving a thin, keen wake of froth and is lost to view in the haze. Faster and faster the pole travels sharper and sharper waxes the wake. Under the runaway pole,, hidden sufely below the sleeping surface, stands a man in a conning' tower his eye is glued to a periscope. To the right and the are speaking tubes, dials, guages, and levers. H is the commander of that I most dreaded of. all nav«£ craft, the submarine, the stiletto of the Jiigk seas. Except for the intense drone of the electric motor there is no sound within the steel skin of the great mechanical fish. There is no splashing of water against the sides, no wave motion, only the tremendous pressure of the ocean depths, and the "crusher" guugfe shows it. Inside the Steel Fish. The chief gunner stands in the torpedo breech, in the prow, clasping the central hand wheel. A fling of this wheel and all the torpedoes dart away simultaneously. Other men stand by other wheels commanding pert and star board torpedoes for single shots. The quartemaster is posted at the wheel control of the horizontal rudders in'ont on guages showing the inclination degree and depth level of the craft. His movements are curbed to the fractionof an inch; he works as carefully and minutely as a jeweller — an awkward move cf the wheel means disaster to all hands. Shoulder to shoulder with the commander is the helmsman, his eye on the compass, his hand on the wheel steering the vertical rudder. Back in the stern is the chief engineer with his assistants standing by switches and levers, cocks, and valves. This is a "split second" crew, ready on the instant to stop or reverse the motors, to disconnect them altogether or start the gasoline engines in place of them, to blow cut or force water into the ballast tanks, to draw oxygen and expel carbonic gases, to load storage batteries, to tend compressors, to watch pressures in pistons and chambers, to make quick repairs when necessary — to do more engineering and do it efficiently, in the smallest and compactest engine room ever devised, than was ever done before. Conversation is forbidden. Martial discipline governs every action. Speech is reduced to words spoken in the performance of duty. The electric lights ure £<> arranged that the tools and upplinaces needed are distinctly visible. Everything is in its proper place.: from the potash cartridge chamber that absorbs the foul air to the refuse ejector thsu tlow? fuste out into the wate~. At the arm of every man is a speaking tnbe. I: tm the officer in *h» turret comes an occasional command — a wheel is- turned, a lever is moved, a switch is thrown — and the big mechanical fish continues its daring course, gliding through hostile depths dotted with floating mines and ploughed by the swift forefoot of a. hundred cruisers whose smallest gun could send the dauntless diver to the bottom with a single shot. Running Awash. Availing itself of the haze, the submarine ventures to the surface and runs awash at its cruising speed of sixteen knots until the British coast heaves in sight, when the course is laid N.E. At Aj ujx bells in the afternoon the lookcut at thp pmniscope signals a fleet of fishing smacks on the port bow. The helm is laid down and the beg mechanical fish bears down upon the dowsed smacks. The haze has cleared. On the fringe of the horizon is a spot, a dark spot getting ever darker and bigger. With Ms binoculars fixed in the periscope the officer gleans the blurred outline of. three large funnels belching black smoke. There is a sharp command. The gas engine stops. The speaking tubes commence to rattle with words of command — sharp, precise, staccato — answered by the quick, "Aye, aye, sir," of the crew. The commander takes an observation, the distance betwen the enemy is measured mathematically, the course is laid by compass, the rate of speed is timed to the distance-, there is a rapid inspection of all gears — and the final dive is ordered. The engine tube speaks. At once the electric motors strike up, sending the craft on its course. The trimming tank tube speaks, and hand' wheels are

set spinning as the forward tanks blow their ballast. The quartermaster has already clasped his wheel. The tube talks and he digs in with a gleam in his eye. The dial of the inclinometer shows how. smartly he is pointing the craft on its downward dive. The chief gunner it at his post in the torpedo breech. , Presently his tube speaks. He spins a small wheel, a piston snaps with a hollow thud, and the war head of the torpedo chamber clicks into fighting trim, pointing three savage looking missiles at the enemy. And thus to the hum of : throbbing motors, punctuated by snapping pistons speaking tubes croaking with commands, the war head gleaming with torpedoes at the ready, the mechanical fish plunges through the foaming brine downward to its fighting level of twenty feet below the surface, bearing clown upon an enemy it cannot see with uncanny precision — relentless, irresistible Availing itself of the fishing fleet as a screen, the submarine is able to take one more peak over the surface without being detected by the enemy, which develops to be a super-dreadnought. Port Torpedb, — Ready!" The experienced eye of the commander observes at a glance that he shall miss the target unless— the emergncy command rings out: "Starboard helm! Forward trim!" The submarine destroyer swerves from its course, rising at the same time to a somewhat higher level. By this manoeuvre the commander hopes to cut the course of the immeasurably swifter dreadnought and intercept* her before she can pass — "Port torpedc — read}'!" rings the tube. A great monstrous shadow comes bearing down upon the little craft. . With incredible ; swiftness it approaches, seeming almost to draw the craft toward it with suction of its menacing bottom. The plunging bilge keels are visibly new. A collision means death not only to the dreadnought but to the destroyer as well. Just as the great armoured ram of the ponderous hull, ripping through' the foam, gaunt and grim with barnacles, seems to aim a death blow at the .little craft, the main tube in the torpedo breech screams, "F-e-u-rrr!" A hand wheel spins, pistons click in the war head, there is a hollow pop as of »a huge ccrk being pulled, and a glittering torpedo, charged with superheated energy, darts out, cutting the brime at. a mile a minute clip. Submarine distance 'is always deceptive ; the dreadnought is fully a cable length away. "Starboard . torpodc— ready — Pi re !'* follows the command. But before the second missle can cut the water there is a thunderous explosion. The whele forefoot of the huge warship is lifted clean out of the water. ; Before its yawning freebcard is buried in the swirling foam the second torpedo knocks a, hole amidships, exploding her magazines with the roar of an erupting vdcano. ' i The huge leviathan of armour plate and giant gun, fleet as a scout, strong as a fort, representing 12,000,000 dollars in the mint of the realm, and 900 lives in human flesh and bone, has been scrambled into a hcrrible, tottering wreck — steam whistles screaming for help, boilers exploding like a field of mines, flumes bursting from hatches, masts snapping in two, monster cannon rousing their turrets overboard, the crew jammed like squealing rats in a hundred trap lashed by jets of scalding ste-im, the scruppers oo::ing blood like the nostrils of a wounded bull. In short a capital ship, the pride of the proudest navy, has been vanquished by a small marauding craft, looking very like a mechanical fish ; a little mariner toy, a poor skate of a. craft, engineered by a boat's load of daredevils, the jcke of naval messrooms, and sometimes derisively reefrred to as the "tin sardine."