Roses Without Chemicals Peter E. Kukielski Download PDF

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150 disease-free varieties
that will change the way you grow roses
without chemicals
“Peter’s ratings for fragrance,

flowers, and disease resistance
make it easy to choose the right
rose for your garden. I wish I
had this when I planted my rose
garden twenty-five years ago. I
am now about to plant another
Peter E.
garden, full of wonderful rose
varieties and I intend to follow
Kukielski
Peter’s advice wholeheartedly.”
Martha Stewart
Roses
without chemicals
R
Roses
150 disease-free varieties
that will change the way you grow roses
without chemicals
Peter E.
Kukielski
Timber Press
Portland London
Frontispiece: ‘Alexandra Princesse de Luxembourg’
Copyright © 2015 by Peter E. Kukielski. All rights reserved.

Published in 2015 by Timber Press, Inc.
Illustrations on pages 34-35 by Peter Kukielski, produced by David Jacobson.

Photo credits appear on page 258.
The Haseltine Building 6a Lonsdale Road

133 S.W. Second Avenue, Suite 450 London NW6 6RD
Portland, OR 97204-3527 timberpress.co.uk
timberpress.com
Printed in China
Text and cover design by David Jacobson, ORT
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Kukielski, Peter.
Roses without chemicals: 150 disease-free varieties that will change the way you grow
roses/Peter E. Kukielski.—1st edition.
pages cm
Other title: One hundred fifty disease free varieties that will change the way you grow roses
Includes index.
ISBN 978-1-60469-354-6
1. Roses—Varieties—North America. 2. Roses—Disease and pest resistance—North America.
I. Title. II. Title: One hundred fifty disease free varieties that will change the way you grow roses.
SB411.6.K85 2015
635.9′33734—dc23 2014020741
A catalog record for this book is also available from the British Library.
For Drew
Contents
Preface (It’s not your fault) 8
The new millennial rose garden 12

The Peggy Rockefeller Rose Garden 14
The evolution of roses 18
Rose growth habits 34
Roses in the garden 35
Regional rose growing 50
Rose trials 58
Growing roses sustainably 62
Buying roses 64
What do roses need? 64
Planting roses 68
Pruning roses 69
Rose care: feeding your soil 73
Rose care: diseases 74
Rose care: pests 76
The chemical-free rose directory: 88

150 disease-resistant roses
Roses by class, habit, and color 242

Roses by class and habit 244
Roses by color 249
Metric conversions 254 Acknowledgments 257
Resources 255 Photo credits 258
Suggestions for further reading 256 Index 259

Preface
(It’s not your fault)
Beautiful, healthy roses

like ‘PlumPerfect’ are
part of a new trend
toward sustainable rose
gardening.
Whether you are a home gardener or the steward of a public rose garden anywhere
in the world, I want you to have the confidence to grow roses, or to grow roses again,
without chemicals. That’s my dream and that’s why I wrote this book. By the time
you have finished reading, I hope you will feel free to grow a huge variety of these
spectacular plants.
Because nearly everyone has heard the phrase “Rose is a created with hardiness in mind, because the hybridizer
rose is a rose is a rose” I often quote it when talking with wants or needs the roses to survive harsh winters.
people in the Peggy Rockefeller Rose Garden at the New With thousands of roses now available on the
York Botanical Garden, where I was the curator for eight market, the choice to the home gardener can be daunting
growing seasons. These words come from the 1913 Ger- and confusing. In my quarter-century of purchasing and
trude Stein poem Sacred Emily, and people have taken growing roses, I have always desired to find a rose that
the line to mean something like “Things are what they is better than the one I am growing at the moment. I’m
are.” Ironically, the rose was a very bad example for Stein always on the lookout for the next best thing, the next
to use for her metaphor. Taken as commonly understood, best rose. Does this sound familiar? Some of my friends
the sentence would mean that all roses are basically the have a similar desire with fashion—always wanting the
same, and no matter which pretty picture you see in a next great trend or popular item. I used to think that
rose catalog, the plants are all going to grow the same, roses are similarly fashionable and that the rose industry
smell the same, and perform the same. Stein would have mirrored the fashion industry. In both these worlds, a
been more on target if she had written, “Rose is (not) color or style can be hot one year and out the next.
a rose is (not) a rose is (not) a rose.” That’s because all Yet too often, when I found a stunning image of
roses are not created equal. Or, more importantly, all a rose in a magazine and determined that I must have
roses are not created for the same purpose. that treasure, ordered it, put it in the ground, cultivated
The process of creating new rose varieties is called it, and loved it—it rewarded me with disappointment.
hybridization. Breeders cross one rose with another rose The leaves became diseased, its color or fragrance was
to create a new variety that has a different combination lackluster, or even worse, the entire rose bush died. Many
of genes than either of its parent plants. Almost all roses despondent and frustrated rose lovers have shared simi-
that you can buy today have been hybridized for one lar stories with me.
purpose or another. Sometimes that purpose is to empha- Perhaps this has also happened to you and if so here
size a gorgeous color that catches your eye. Maybe the is the central point I want to make in this book: it is not
hybridizer likes a certain cupped flower. Sometimes it is your fault. In the pages that follow I am going to explain
for a particular fragrance or growth habit. Some roses are to you why some roses fail to thrive, and how to choose
9
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and grow roses in an environmentally sensitive way for
your garden, in your part of the country. In the directory
you’ll find 150 of the best-performing and most disease-
resistant roses available on the market today. I have
grown every one of these roses myself and have chosen
them out of the many thousands of other roses that I have
grown and trialed over the years. I have included a rating
for each rose based on the qualities that matter most to
gardeners: disease-resistance, bloom, and fragrance. You
can rest assured that they are the very best choices for a
sustainable, chemical-free rose garden.
Roses without chemicals

10 Preface (It’s not your fault)
‘Autumn Damask’
The New
Millennial
Rose Garden
The new millennial

rose garden is
full of disease-free,
long-blooming plants.
A rose is hybridized for whatever pur- This book will help you learn about the specific hybrid-
ization efforts toward disease resistance and sustain-
pose or purposes its creator is seeking, ability in roses. Of the thousands of roses available on
those qualities the hybridizer wants to the market, I want you to know about roses that are right
for you and that you will be able to grow successfully,
maximize. But when a rose is hybridized disease-free and chemical-free. I also want you to know
to maximize any one quality, there is the about the best way to plant and care for these roses.
Right for you also means right for the area where
possibility that some other facet will be you garden. Understanding the effect of your local
compromised or sacrificed. Too often in climate on roses determines how successful you will be
in growing them. It’s unreasonable to assume that roses
today’s marketplace, roses are hybrid- that might be successful in Miami or England would also
ized for a narrow, superficial beauty that be successful in Maine or Norway. If together we can
identify roses that are good performers for your region
will attract the consumer in a catalog,
and climate, then I know you will have better, healthier
garden center, or florist shop. But just roses based on that factor alone.
like the fruit and vegetables that are bred I like to use the term “new millennial roses” for
those varieties that are fragrant, beautiful, disease-free,
to look perfect on supermarket shelves, chemical-free, relatively maintenance-free, and region-
these hybridized plants can go bad very ally appropriate. I believe that sustainable rose gardens
are available to every home gardener, and to large com-
quickly. Selecting roses because they mercial growers and public gardens everywhere.
have good looks may actually be counter- I chose the word millennial to reference the year
2000. It was around this time that we—growers, breed-
productive. That lovely rose may soon be ers, and curators—began to shift our way of thinking
riddled with leaf spot because the ability about roses. We started to move in the direction of more
“green” and sustainable roses. We began to look for roses
to resist disease has been bred out of it. that were hybridized specifically to be resistant to dis-
eases. These are the roses that you will find in this book.
13
The Peggy Rockefeller I left in 2013 it contained a significant living
Rose Garden display of more than 4000 roses and close to
Just as the millennial shift in roses was 700 different varieties.
happening, I became curator of the Peggy The rose garden covers just over an acre
Rockefeller Rose Garden, which is located and is triangular in shape, with a circular
in the New York Botanical Garden. First laid central area containing a focal gazebo. When
out in 1916 by the eminent American land- I took over, the rose garden had been sprayed
scape architect Beatrix Jones Farrand and with chemicals for twenty years. The col-
nestled among beautiful, established trees, lection had about 2000 roses in it, approxi-
the site offers some of the most breathtak- mately 234 varieties. Originally, the goal of
ing vistas available at the botanical gar- the renovation was to increase diversity and
den. Thanks to a generous gift from David make better use of the planting space. During
Rockefeller in honor of his wife, Peggy, the the initial renovation, I took out 400 roses
garden was completed and named for her and added 1700 new roses, almost doubling
in 1988. With continuing support from Mr. the size of the collection.
Rockefeller, I had the honor of renovating the As part of the renovation the beds were
garden through the winter of 2006 and 2007. redefined in order to diversify and reorganize
The garden was reopened in 2007, and when the rose classes in the existing collection.
The rose garden at

the New York
Botanical Garden has
impressed visitors since
its creation
a century ago.
14 The new millennial rose garden

On the southeast side, we created a heritage better represent the diversity of roses and
rose border that features a chronological also to display great garden plants for the
sampling of the history of roses, showing public to learn about and enjoy. As new
their lineage as they were hybridized over plants were being hybridized, trialed, and
the centuries. It begins with species roses introduced from around the world, I felt we
and their cultivars, wild plants that evolved should bring to the forefront those that are
through natural selection, and continues highly disease-resistant and easy to grow.
down the timeline of rose history from Gal- At the same time, we wanted to preserve
licas and Damasks to Albas, Centifolias, and important historical rose varieties of the past
China roses, from Spinosissima shrubs to for educational purposes.
Moss roses, Portlands, Bourbons, and finally As we went through the growing
Hybrid Perpetuals. Two other borders are seasons from 2009 to 2013, we looked for
planted with modern roses. Signage tells the ways to reflect these new millennial roses.
story of the development of the rose, from the With this in mind, we planted revised mod-
antique plants to the more recent varieties. ern collections that included more disease-
After the initial renovation, 2008 pre- resistant varieties such as those from the
sented the rose garden with a new mission. Texas Pioneer, Griffith Buck, and Easy
I wanted to modify the collection to even Elegance series, as well as those with the
Signs throughout the

garden tell the
history of roses from their
wild ancestors to the
present day.

Earth-Kind designation. We also put in
extensive plantings of roses that emerged
from the hybridization efforts from Kordes
of Germany, Meilland of France, and Will
Radler of the United States, along with sev-
Rose Stories eral of the winners from the ADR Rose Trials
in Germany, which include some of the best
A rose named Eva hybridization efforts in the world.
In the last eighty years, there has been
In June 2007, after the extensive Once satisfied, Eva (the human) a movement away from the use of roses as
renovation of the Peggy Rocke- proceeded back in my direction general garden plants. In part, this can be
feller Rose Garden was com- as quickly as she had left and said, attributed to the level of culture required to
pleted, we reopened the garden. “Thank you. She looks good! I’ll care for roses that were bred without regard
The spectacular first bloom was be back again next year—make for the health of the plants. But things are
under way. I was in the garden sure you take good care of her!”
changing with the new millennial roses.
talking with some visitors when a
young woman with an abrupt
“Oh, I will!” I said, almost fearing Consumers are willing to pay premium
manner approached me.
for my life while I pledged to prices for cultivars that are resistant to
protect her personal floral common diseases, easy to maintain, and ever
“Good afternoon!” I greeted her. symbol.
blooming. I can say with great enthusiasm
“Where is Eva?” she asked Having received direct orders that modern hybridizing efforts are really
impatiently, her foot tapping on from this dynamic young putting the rose back to its rightful place as a
the ground. woman, it became clear to me at great garden plant.
that moment that this was not
I was a little shocked at the stern In June 2010, the Great Rosarians of
only my garden to care for but it
expression on her face. But then I the World (GROW) presented the Peggy
was everyone else’s garden as
guessed why she was perturbed.
well. I watched visitor after visitor Rockefeller Rose Garden with the Interna-
“I bet your name is Eva,” I replied. come into the garden and stake tional Rose Garden Hall of Fame Award. The
their special claim to a favorite same year, the All American Rose Selections
“Yes,” she said, still waiting for an rose or two (or three or more), (AARS) declared the garden one of the best
answer. “Where is my rose?” and derive immense joy from this public rose garden displays in America,
Fortunately, I was able to direct public space that they saw as conferring this honor “in recognition of the
their own. ‘Eva’ and the other
her to the area of the garden Creation of a Sustainable Public Garden
where we grow Hybrid Musks. nearly 700 varieties must be well
Representing an Outstanding Collection
She walked briskly over to taken care of for the enjoyment of
one and all. of Historic Roses.” In the fall of 2012, The
the bed and was able to see
World Federation of Rose Societies pre-
that Rosa ‘Eva’ was blooming
beautifully, with endless clusters sented the Garden with the prestigious
of blended reds. Award of Excellence recognizing it as one of
the best rose gardens in the world.
The garden is under the watchful eye
and care of a team of horticultural profes-
sionals with many years of very specific rose
experience. It is with proactive, consistent
care—the use, for instance, of compost,
mulch, organic fertilizer, and sustainable
growing methods that I will be discussing in

Many of the roses in
the Peggy Rockefeller
garden have
demonstrated their
ability to resist disease.
this book—that the health of the garden can records from the Egyptians to the Greeks and
be kept at its highest. Romans, all the way to Europe in the 1700s,
I remember walking through the rose when growers started to develop official
garden with David Rockefeller on one of his classes of roses. Any rose that was hybridized
visits (he used to visit each year on his birth- before the year 1867 is considered a heritage
day). At one particular moment, this kind rose. Any rose after that date is considered a
and gentle man turned to me and whispered, modern rose. I have coined the phrase “new
“Peggy would have loved this.” Although this millennial” for those varieties post-2000
gave me a sense that our mission had been that are specifically hybridized for or have a
accomplished, I also realized that the garden proven propensity toward disease resistance.
must continue to evolve its mission. As with
all gardens, its caretakers must constantly Species roses
look for new ways to make this garden as The species roses (with some exceptions)
beautiful and sustainable as it can possibly have a “simple” flower form. The bloom
be, so that visitors have the same experience opens flat and has only five petals. The family
of loving it year after year. Rosaceae, which includes the species roses,
also includes other plants such as apples,
The Evolution of Roses cherries, and pears, as well as strawberries
I believe that you can’t have a book about and even ornamental shrubs like Kerria and
sustainable roses without mentioning those Spiraea. If you look at the blossoms of these
roses that have grown, survived, and proven species, they all have the simple flower form
themselves over time without chemicals. of five petals.
Many of these are heritage roses, also called
antique or old garden roses, and I urge you
to look further to explore the great diversity Some of my favorite species
among them. Here I want to give you a roses include
general sense of how the world of roses has Rosa blanda
expanded over the last few hundred years.
This includes how and why roses became the Rosa canina
chemically dependent plants that the mod- Rosa chinensis
ern gardener has known them to be over the
past few decades. In order to understand this Rosa gallica
better, it is helpful to look at the development
Rosa hugonis
of roses over the centuries.
Roses have grown wild on this earth for Rosa nutkana
millions of years. A fossil of a rose has been
Rosa roxburghii
found that dates back 34 million years. And
for 34 million years, these plants were not Rosa sericea
treated with any fungicides that I am aware
Rosa spinosissima
of. Just think about it: these tough plants
have been growing throughout the North- Rosa virginiana
ern Hemisphere, thriving on no mainte-
nance and no intervention from humans.
The history of the cultivated rose includes

Species roses bloom only once per year,
covering themselves with flowers in the late
spring and early summer. The flowers are
followed by colorful rose hips that provide
food for birds and winter interest in the land-
scape. Estimates vary, but there are probably
up to 150 different rose species.
If nature provided this many species
roses, what happens when one rose is
crossed with another? Simply speaking, a
hybrid cross is made—a rose with different
genes than both of its parents. This cross
may occur naturally when bees or other polli-
nating insects disperse pollen from bloom to
bloom, or they can be man-made by purpose-
fully taking pollen from the stamens of one
plant and applying it to the stigma of another
plant to create new seed, then growing plants
from that seed.
Any existing rose can be crossed with
any other existing rose to come up with a
new hybrid rose. If you cross a five-petaled
flower with another five-petaled form, you
might get five-petaled offspring or you might
get offspring that have flowers with more
petals. Now think about what might result
if you crossed this multi-petaled rose with
Rosa chinensis
Rosa canina Rosa gallica ‘Officinalis’

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‘Cardinal de Richelieu’
Some of my favorite Gallica

roses include
‘Burgundian Rose’
‘Cardinal de Richelieu’
Rosa virginiana
‘Charles de Mills’
a five-petaled rose. It might possibly be a ‘Elegant Gallica’
new form of many-petaled flowers that does
not look like the original species rose. This Rosa gallica ‘Officinalis’
is how a new class of roses is born. A broad
Rosa gallica ‘Versicolor’
definition of a class of roses is that they share
a common flower form. A class is considered
distinct because the blooms are different Gallica | Rosa gallica is a species rose that is
from those of the parent plants. native to southern and central Europe. The
oldest named form of this plant is R. gallica
Heritage roses
‘Officinalis’ (also known as the apothecary’s
Heritage, antique, or old garden roses are
rose, because it was thought to have medic-
the first roses that were brought into cultiva-
inal properties) and it dates from as early
tion. Their history is a journey through the
as the 14th century. Rosa gallica ‘Officinalis’
centuries, as gardeners and breeders sought
has multiple petals, as do other descendants
to select and then to hybridize new and
of R. gallica, sometimes up to 100 petals per
exotic types of rose.
flower. This class of roses became known as
the Gallicas.

Rosa gallica ‘Versicolor’
Damask | The next new class of roses were ‘Leda’

the Damask roses. The original Damask
rose was thought to be a cross between Rosa
gallica and another species of rose, but many
experts argue over this point. The Damask
roses do not have as many petals as the Gal-
licas before them, yet they have many more
petals than the earlier species. The Damasks
are most known for their fragrance and are a
main source for rose oil or “attar of roses” for
the perfume industry.
Some of my favorite Damask roses

include
‘Autumn Damask’
‘Ispahan’ ‘Ispahan’
‘Kazanlik’ Albas actually include roses that range from

white to pinks. They have a wider variety of
‘Leda’ flower forms and a lighter fragrance than the
‘Madame Hardy’ heavier Damask scent of their predecessor.
Another characteristic of this class is that
the foliage shares a glaucous (grayish-green
Alba | Next to be developed was the Alba or blue) coloring that differs from the
class of roses. Alba means white, but the brighter green foliage of earlier classes.

‘Alba Semiplena’
Early Alba roses are thought to be descen-

dants of the species Rosa canina crossed
with R. damascena.
Some of my favorite Alba

roses include
‘Alba Semiplena’
‘Félicité Parmentier’
‘Great Maiden’s Blush’

‘Königin von Dänemark’
‘Madame Plantier’
‘Pompon Blanc Parfait’ ‘Félicité Parmentier’
‘Sappho’ Centifolia | A simple qualifying

characteristic of Centifolia roses can be
gleaned from the name centi meaning

‘Dometil Beccard’
hundred. These blooms, which are quite

different from other classes of roses, are
generally very cupped or rounded in shape
and do indeed have about 100 petals.
Centifolia roses are said to have been the
first class developed as late as the 17th
century. Maybe because of this early date
of cultivation, I have found the number of
Centifolia roses in commerce to be fewer
than other classes. The ones I have grown
‘Fantin-Latour’
have been a wonderful addition to the
garden. Moss | Moss roses have bloom characteris-
tics similar to those of their predecessors,
and so they can be difficult to identify simply
Some of my favorite Centifolia roses by looking at the flower form. The obvious
include difference is the addition of “mossy” glands
‘Cristata’ to the buds, which changed this flower form
and so distinguished the class. The flower
‘Dometil Beccard’ buds are literally covered with glandular
‘Fantin-Latour’ tips that produce their own oily scent, which
can range anywhere from citrus and anise
‘Le Rire Niais’ to earthy notes, which make a wonderful
‘Rose de Meaux’ complement and contrast to the rose scent of
the flowers. The Moss roses are known to be
sport descendants of the Centifolias.

‘Comtesse de Murinais’ ‘Gloire des Mousseux’
Some of my favorite Moss roses include
‘Capitaine John Ingram’
‘Comtesse de Murinais’
‘General Kleber’
‘Gloire des Mousseux’
‘Jean Bodin’
‘La Diaphane’
‘Madame Louis Lévêque’
‘Salet’
‘William Lobb’ ‘La Diaphane’
also brought some pastel shades and some

China | Although there is much to say about darker reds, crimsons, and even purples to
China roses, the simple fact is that they come the world of roses. Any rose called a hybrid
from China and they were developed from China would be a cross between the China
the species Rosa chinensis. China roses are roses and other existing classes of roses. I
among the most floriferous of all roses and have included two China roses (‘Ducher’ and
are credited with having given most modern ‘Mutabilis’) in the directory because, like
roses their remontant qualities. They also several other heritage roses included there,
brought new flower forms and colors to cross they have proven their disease resistance and
with existing European roses. The China blooming capacity in gardens for many years.
roses include shades from white to pink, and

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have yelled, ‘There she blows!’ and got the double-eagle?”
“But you gave no alarm,” grinned Al. “Did he, Whistler?”
“I guess he did call the attention of an officer to it,” Whistler
responded, with great gravity. “Are you going right up to the
Commander with your claim, Ike?”
While the boys and the rest of the crew were joking about the
mysterious submarine, the officers of the Colodia were seriously
engaged in discussing the immediate course of the destroyer. They
were under orders to find the Sea Pigeon, a very fast raider; but
they could not refuse very well to try to pick up this big submersible,
if she could be overtaken.
The wireless messages from the Que Vida had ceased hours
before. That afternoon they sighted a regular flotilla of small boats
on the quiet sea and knew at once that the submarine had again
been at work. This time, however, the Germans had been more
merciful than usual to the crew of the sunken ship.
Nevertheless the two life crafts and four boats were a long way
from either Fayal or Funchal. The sea was quiet, but the German
submarine commander did not know it would remain so. He had
gone directly contrary to international law in deserting these people.
They proved to be the crew and passengers of the Que Vida, more
than twenty-four hours in the boats. The captain had been carried
away, a prisoner, by the huge submarine that had attacked the
steamship from Buenos Aires.
The story of the chief officer of the lost ship was illuminating. The
Que Vida might have escaped the Germans, being a fast vessel, had
it not been for the fact that the former appeared to be a merchant
ship, and flew a neutral flag, as did the Que Vida.
This enabled the submersible to get within gunfire range.
Suddenly she revealed her guns fore and aft and threw several shells
at the Argentine vessel. The latter was then so close that she was
obliged to capitulate immediately.
The German then ran down nearer and ordered her victims to
abandon ship within half an hour. She sent a boat for the captain of
the merchant vessel.
When the boats and rafts were afloat, a boatload of Germans on
their way to put bombs aboard the Que Vida stopped and pillaged
each boatload of victims, taking their money, jewelry, any other
valuables they fancied, and especially pilfering the woolen garments
of both men and women.
The Que Vida carried some coin and her captain was evidently
made to tell of this. The Germans searched the ship before putting
the time bombs in her hold.
“Then, Señores,” said the chief officer, in concluding his story,
“when the poor Que Vida was sunken, the great submarine steamed
away with Señor Capitan di Cos. Perhaps they have killed him.
“But we—Well, you see us. That gr-reat submarine is the most
wonderful ship. I would not myself have believed she could
submerge did I not see her go down with my own eyes not a mile
away from our flotilla.
“And three hundred feet long she is, I assure you! As long as this
destroyer, Señores. A so wonderful boat!”
“Once we drop a depth bomb over her, we’ll knock her into a
cocked hat, big as she is,” growled one of the Colodia’s petty officers
in Whistler’s hearing.
“And the captain of the Spanish ship—what of him?” murmured
the Seacove lad.
The taking aboard of the wrecked ship’s company caused
considerable excitement on the destroyer. These torpedo boat
destroyers do not have many comforts to offer passengers, women,
especially.
“Cracky, Whistler!” observed Al Torrance to his chum, “there are
girls come aboard the old destroyer. What do you know about that?”
“Well, the Old Man couldn’t very well leave them to drown, could
he?” responded Morgan gravely.
“Spanish girls, too. One is a beauty; but the other is too fat,” said
Frenchy who claimed to be a connoisseur regarding girls and their
looks.
“Hold him, fellows! Hold him!” advised Ikey, sepulchrally. “He’ll be
off again, look out!”
“Aw, you——”
“Don’t forget how he fell for that Flora girl when we were back
there in England.”
“Shucks!” said Belding laughing. “Flora was the goddess of
flowers.”
“Ah,” said Ikey, shaking his head, “you don’t know Mike Donahue.
He’ll call this Spanish girl a goddess, yet. You just see.”
The Colodia, however, was driven at top speed for the nearest
port, there to be relieved of the shipwrecked company from the
Argentine steamship. So the susceptible Frenchy was soon out of all
possible danger.
There was a keen desire, on the part of both the destroyer’s crew
and officers, to overtake the craft that had brought the Que Vida to
her tragic end.
It was well established now that the big submarine and the Sea
Pigeon were two different vessels, though they might be working in
conjunction. But either or both of the German craft would be
welcome prey to the United States destroyer. The latter continued
her tedious work of “combing the sea” for these despicable enemies.
CHAPTER XVI—STATIONS
Since sailing out of Brest and before receiving her special orders by
wireless telegraph, the Colodia had made no base port where the
crew could receive either mail or cablegrams. Two weeks and more
had passed. Philip Morgan and George Belding had no idea where
the Redbird was, or whether or not their relatives were safe.
“The fate of a ship at sea is an uncertain thing at best,” Phil
Morgan said seriously to his friend, “in spite of the old salt’s oft-
repeated prayer: ‘Heaven help the folks ashore on this stormy night,
Bill!’”
“Don’t joke about such serious matters,” Belding replied. “Wonder
how far the folks have got toward Bahia?”
“Well, you know where we stuck the pins in the chart to-day,
boy?”
“To be sure. But we don’t really know a thing about it.”
“Courage!” urged Whistler. “We are just as likely to be right in
doping out the Redbird’s course as not.”
“It’s the confounded uncertainty of it that gets me,” said Belding
bitterly, and then changed the subject.
Interest in the Colodia’s search for German raiders and submarines
did not flag even in the minds of these two members of her crew.
For several days, however, the destroyer plowed through the sea,
hither and yon, without picking out of the air a word regarding either
the Sea Pigeon or the huge submarine which some of the boys
believed they had surely seen in the mirage reflected against the
morning sky.
The detail work of a naval vessel at sea even in wartime, unless
something “breaks,” is really very monotonous. Drills, studies, watch
duties, clothes washing, deck scrubbing, brass polishing. All these
things go on with maddening regularity.
Every time the wireless chattered the watch on deck started to
keen attention. But hour after hour passed and no word either of the
German raider or the big submarine was caught by Sparks or his
assistants.
Yet there was a certain expectation of possible action all of the
time that kept up the spirits of the men and boys of the destroyer. At
any moment an S O S might come, or an order from the far distant
naval base for immediate and exciting work.
The Colodia and her crew were supposed to be ready for anything
—and she was and they were!
The daylight hours were so fully occupied with routine detail that
the boys made little complaint; but during the mid-watch and the
first half of the morning watch when the time drags so slowly, the
crew sometimes suffered from that nervous feeling which suggests
to the acute mind that “something is about to happen.”
On this particular night—it was mid-watch—things were going very
easily indeed on the Colodia. It was a beautiful tropical night, with a
sky of purple velvet in which sparkled more diamond-stars than
Whistler Morgan or George Belding seemed ever to have seen
before.
They were lying on the deck, these two, and gazing lazily
skyward, it not being their trick on lookout. The Colodia was running
as usual with few lights showing; but not because it was supposed
that there was any other craft, either friendly or of the enemy, within
miles and miles of her course.
They lay within full hearing of the radio room. Suddenly the
wireless began to chatter.
“Hold on!” exclaimed Whistler, seizing his friend’s sleeve. “That
isn’t a call for you, George.”
“I’ve got so I jump everytime I hear it,” admitted Belding, sinking
back to the deck.
The messenger soon darted for the commander’s cabin. It was no
immediate order or signal for help, or he would have first hailed the
bridge. But soon Mr. Lang’s orderly appeared with a message for the
officer of the watch.
There were a few whispered words at the break of the bridge.
Then the officer conning the ship gave swift directions for her course
to be changed and signaled the engine room as well. Almost
immediately the pace of the destroyer was increased.
“I wonder what’s in the wind?” murmured Whistler.
“I’m going to see if I can find out,” said Belding, rising again.
He went around to the door of the radio room. Sparks himself was
on duty. He sat on the bench with the helix strap and “eartabs”
adjusted. He had just taken another message, but it was nothing
meant for the commander of the Colodia.
“That’s the second time to-night, George,” he said, removing his
head-harness. “I don’t know what to make of it.”
“What’s the matter, sir?” asked the young fellow.
“Why, I guess it’s static. Nothing more, I suppose. Yet it is a
regular ‘ghost talk.’ I can almost make out words.”
“Goodness! What do you mean?” asked the young fellow, mightily
interested. “I never heard of ‘ghost talk’, though I know ‘static’
means atmospheric pressure.”
“Pah! It means electricity in the air that we can’t wholly account
for,” said Sparks. “But this——”
“What?”
“Why, I tell you, George; twice to-night I have almost caught
something that seemed to be a message in one of our codes and
tuned to this length of spark. But I can’t really make head nor tail of
it.”
“That wasn’t what you just sent aft to the Old Man?”
“Shucks! No! I’ll give you a tip on that, young fellow,” and the
radio man smiled. “We’ve been zigzagging across the steamship
routes, but now you will notice that we have an objective. That
message was from Teneriffe in the Canaries. That big sub has been
seen down that way.”
“Bully!” exclaimed Whistler, who had come to look into the room
over his friend’s shoulder.
“Oh, that you, Whistler? Well, there is nothing secret about it. But
this confounded ‘ghost talk’——”
“Sounds interesting,” Whistler said.
“I’m puzzled. I hope I’ll catch it again. It is just as though
somebody—a slow operator, regular ham—was trying to put
something over and couldn’t quite do it. Funny things we hear in the
air, anyway, at times.”
He went back to his machine, grumbling, and the boys came away
after a bit. The news that the super-submersible had been heard of
again was something to talk about, at least, and served to keep
them awake through the rest of the watch.
In the morning the news that the German submarine was again
active in a certain part of the ocean to the southward became
generally known. It was likely that the strange and threatening craft,
which plainly could make longer cruises than most submarines, had
been sent forth to prey upon food ships from South America.
She expected to lurk along steamship lanes, like a wolf crouched
in the underbrush beside a forest path; and like that wolf, too, she
was relentless. Yet, her treatment of captured ships thus far had
been more humane than most, as shown by her use of the Que
Vida’s crew and passengers.
“Still, she’s a regular pirate,” Whistler Morgan said in speaking of
this. “See how her men robbed those poor sailors, and even the
women.”
“Ah, you said something then, boy!” Al Torrance agreed.
“I wonder,” George Belding said reflectively, “if the war should end
suddenly, and some of these U-boats are out in the various seas, if
their commanders won’t become veritable pirates?”
“How’s that?” cried Frenchy Donahue. “It’s pirates they are
already!”
“But to go it on their own hook,” put in Ikey. “I see what Belding
means. Just think of a new race of buccaneers! Wow!”
“Begorra!” murmured the Irish lad, his eyes shining, “they might
infest certain seas like the old pirates of the Spanish Main.”
“I hope you see what you’ve started, George,” growled Whistler
with mock anger. “Those kids are off again.”
The friends from Seacove were not alone excited by the renewed
chase of the super-submersible. That day, too, there were two
messages about the German craft. She had sunk a small freight boat
and a fishing sloop. It was evident that she had run somewhere for
supplies, and had now come back to the island waters.
How many Canary fishermen’s sloops and turtle catchers she sank
during the next few days will never be known. Mark of such vessels
could not be taken until their crews rowed ashore—if they were
fortunate enough to get to shore. The tales the Colodia got by
wireless, however, showed that the Germans were robbing all crews,
as they had the people from the Argentine ship.
From these shore reports, it seemed that the huge submarine was
circling about the steamship lane again, boldly attacking everything
that came in her way; but it was not until next day that the
destroyer got out of the air a bona fide call for help. This was from
the radio of the British steamship Western Star bound up the Cape
of Good Hope.
She had merely time to repeat her S O S signal when her spark
was cut off. Doubtless the radio plant of the freighter was destroyed
by shellfire.
She had, however, given the Colodia clearly her situation, and the
United States destroyer started upon another of those remarkable
dashes for which she and her sister ships were originally built.
There was a chance that they might reach the spot where the
Western Star was being held up before the submarine could get
away; and the Colodia’s crew was at stations, ready for what was
coming.
CHAPTER XVII—THE SPITFIRE
That was a great race, as the boys declared. The engines of the
Colodia seemed to pick her right up and fling her onward over the
sea.
They passed no other ship, and after the breakdown of the
Western Star’s wireless, they got but vague whispers out of the air,
and nothing at all about the huge German submarine that was
attacking the British freighter.
The lookout tops were filled with excited men and boys; every
member of the crew was on the alert. Tearing on through the calm
sea, the destroyer reeled off the miles as fast as ever she had since
her launching.
Two hours passed. Keen ears distinguished intermittent explosions
from a southerly direction. Then a smudge of smoke appeared on
the horizon, as though a giant’s thumb had been smeared just above
the sea line.
“There she is!” went up the cry from the destroyer’s crew.
Their eagerness was increased, were that possible. As the cloud of
smoke grew, they were all aware that it was from a ship in flames.
For some reason the submarine had not torpedoed the freighter, but
had set her aflame with fire bombs.
Had the crew of the steamship been given a chance to escape?
That question was really the mainspring of the Americans’ desire to
reach in such a hurry the scene of the catastrophe.
There was the thought of vengeance, too. If they could but
overtake the German pirates and punish them as they deserved!
“It is all very well,” said Belding, “to put forth the excuse that
these Heinies only do what they are ordered to do. But how many of
us Yankees, for instance, would obey our officers if they ordered us
to commit such fiendish crimes as these submarine crews do, right
along?”
The chance that the German submarine would remain in the
vicinity of the freighter till she sank, was not overlooked by the
commander of the Colodia. All on board were urged to keep their
eyes open for the first sign of the enemy.
But it was the refugees from the Western Star that the destroyer
first raised—a flotilla of small boats being pulled steadily to the
eastward where lay the islands surrounding Teneriffe.
The Colodia kept away from the survivors, fearing that she might
draw the fire of the submarine and that thereby the safety of the
small boats would be endangered.
The Western Star was a roaring furnace, from stem to stern. The
smoke and flame billowed out from her sides, offering a picture of
devastation that was fairly awe-inspiring.
But the sea immediately about the burning ship, as far as the
Colodia’s crew could see, was quite empty. There was no sign of the
enemy submarine.
A signalman called to the bridge, flagged the survivors, and a man
arose in the leading boat to answer. The Americans made out that
the German submarine had been in the vicinity until within a very
few minutes. She had but recently disappeared beyond the burning
steamship, but had not at that time submerged.
Commander Lang gave orders for a dash around the stern of the
Western Star. It was hoped that the approach of the destroyer might
have escaped the notice of the submarine’s commander.
Suddenly there was heard an explosion of a shell in the hull of the
burning ship. A great balloon of smoke belched forth and the craft
shook from bow to stern. It was evident that the Germans were
getting impatient and wished the big freighter to sink.
The gunners of the destroyer were at their stations. There was a
chance that they would get a shot at the submarine before she could
submerge.
The Colodia roared on, rounding the stern of the doomed ship.
Another shell burst within her fire-racked hull; a second explosion
followed, and the hull fairly fell apart amidships!
Then the American destroyer dashed into view of the enemy. The
big submarine lay only two cable lengths from the sinking ship, all
her upper works visible to the excited Americans. Even her conning
tower was open.
She really did look like a small freighter, even at that distance. She
had collapsible masts and smokestacks, and there were more than a
dozen men on her deck. It would take some time to submerge such
a craft. Plainly the Germans had not apprehended the approach of
the American destroyer.
“Hurrah, boys!” yelled one of the petty officers, “we’re going to
take tea with Heinie!”
A roar of voices went up from the decks of the destroyer in reply
to this cheer. A gun fore and aft spoke; both crews had been
ordered to fire at the same object. That was the open conning tower
of the submarine.
If ever American shells fell true, those two did! Right at the start
the submarine’s chances for escape were made nil. The conning
tower was wrecked and the craft could not safely submerge.
But she could fight. Her gunners turned their weapons on the
destroyer, and the shells began to shriek through the upperworks of
the fast naval ship. There were several casualties aboard the Colodia
within the first few minutes.
But the submarine’s most dangerous projectiles, the auto-
torpedoes, could not be successfully used. As the destroyer swept
past, the Germans sent one of these sharklike things full at her. But
the Colodia darted between the submarine and the flaming ship, and
the projectile passed her stern, landing full against the side of the
Western Star.
The reverberating crash of the explosion was enough to wreck
one’s eardrums, so near was it. But all the time the destroyer was
giving the crippled submarine broadside after broadside of guns; the
upperworks of the German craft were fast becoming a twisted mass
of wreckage!
Again and again the Americans’ guns swept the fated submarine.
But the latter was a spitfire. Behind armored fortresses her men fired
her guns with a rapidity that could but arouse the admiration of the
boys on the Colodia.
“Got to hand it to the Heinies!” yelled somebody. “They have
bulldog pluck.”
“Put a shell where it will do some good, boys!” begged one of the
officers. “We haven’t landed a hit in her ‘innards’—and that is where
the shells tell.”
“My goodness!” gasped Whistler, working beside Al Torrance on
one of the forward guns, “that shell told something—believe me!”
The shot he meant seemed to have exploded under the deck of
the submarine. Yards upon yards of the armorplate was lifted and
splintered as a baseball might splinter a window.
The destroyer was rounding the submarine at top speed. Volley
after volley was poured into the rocking German craft. One shell
wiped out a deck gun and all the Germans manning it. The slaughter
was terrible.
And yet her remaining guns were worked with precision—with
desperate precision. She could not hold the range as the Americans
did, but her crew showed courage as well as perfect training. The
position of the submarine was hopeless, yet they fought on.
Sweat was pouring into Phil Morgan’s eyes as he worked with his
crew members over the hot gun. The sun was scorching, anyway; it
was the very hottest place he and Al Torrance had ever got into,
counting the big fight when they were with the Kennebunk, and all!
The destroyer received very little punishment. If the submarine did
fight like a spitfire, her shells accomplished little damage.
The Americans saw the big burning steamship fall apart in the
middle and sink after the torpedo struck her. Great waves lifted their
crests over the spot, and it was at this time the submarine was put
in the greatest danger.
The spreading billows caught the helpless submersible and tossed
her on their crests. Those on the Colodia saw the Germans running
about the deck like ants about a disturbed ant hill. Then a huge
wave topped the ship and broke over her!
A cheer started among the crew of the destroyer. But it was
quenched in a moment. When the great wave rolled past they saw
that the submarine had been flung upon its side and that it was
sinking.
“She’s going down, boys! She’s going down!” cried George
Belding. “Don’t cheer any more—now.”
Indeed the awful sight completely checked cheering. It is all right
to fight an enemy; it is another matter to see that enemy sink
beneath the waves.
And the strangeness of this incident impressed the lads seriously
as well. The submarine’s own act had sunk her. She had been
overborne by a wave from the sinking of the freighter.
“She brought about her own punishment,” remarked Whistler,
voicing the general opinion of the crew of the American destroyer.
“In other words, it was coming to them and they got it!”
CHAPTER XVIII—“GHOST TALK” AGAIN
The Colodia was put about, and at reduced speed approached the
spot where the submarine had gone down. There was very little
wreckage on the surface of the ocean; but several black spots seen
through the officers’ glasses caused two boats to be hastily launched
and both were driven swiftly to the rescue of the survivors of the
German craft.
Morgan was in one of these boats. All through the fight he had
thought of the Argentine skipper, Captain di Cos of the Que Vida.
The possibility of his still being aboard the submarine worried the
American lad. If there were prisoners, they had gone down with the
enemy craft.
These were the fortunes of war; nevertheless, that the
unfortunates should be lost with the members of the German crew,
was a hard matter. Only three survivors were picked up, and one of
them, with his arm torn off at the socket, died before the boats
could get back to the destroyer.
The two were Germans. Questioned about possible prisoners
aboard the submarine, they denied knowledge of them. Yet it was
positive that Captain di Cos, at least, had been carried away by the
German craft when the Que Vida was sunk.
Later some information was gleaned from the two prisoners
brought back to the Colodia. The super-submarine had been known
as the One Thousand and One. She was the first of a new type of
subsea craft that the Germans hoped to use as common carriers if
they won the war.
According to the story told by the prisoners—especially by one
who was more talkative than his fellow—the huge submarine had a
crew of sixty men, with a captain for commander, a full lieutenant
and a sub-lieutenant. She was fully provisioned and carried plenty of
shells. Her commander’s desire to save torpedoes, their supply of
which could not be renewed nearer than Zeebrugge or Kiel, was the
cause of the submarine being caught unaware by the destroyer.
Had the Western Star been sunk at once by the use of a torpedo,
the underseas boat would have been far away from the scene when
the American ship arrived. It was an oversight!
“And it is an oversight her commander can worry about all through
eternity,” Mr. MacMasters growled, in talking about it with the boys
he took into his confidence now and then. “It is my idea that that
big sub could get stores and oil without running home to her base;
but she could not get torpedoes.”
He did not explain further what Commander Lang and his officers
suspected. But the German prisoners had been interrogated very
carefully along certain lines, especially regarding that German raider
called the Sea Pigeon for which the Colodia had really been sent in
search.
The big submarine had taken considerable treasure and valuable
goods from the vessels she had sunk. Then, for a time, she had
disappeared from the steamship lanes. Where had she gone with the
stolen goods?
The prisoners hesitated to explain this. Indeed, one of them
became immediately dumb when he saw what the questioning was
leading to. From his companion, however, was obtained some
further information.
It was a fact that the submarine had left her base with the raider
known as the Sea Pigeon. The underseas boat convoyed the bigger
craft through the danger zone. It was not a difficult guess that when
the two German boats had separated arrangements had been made
for certain rendezvous at future dates—when and where? Besides,
both boats were furnished with wireless.
“I would make that Heinie tell the whole story,” Ensign MacMasters
said.
“He might not tell the truth, sir,” suggested Whistler Morgan.
“Then I’d hang him,” declared the officer. “A threat of that kind will
make these brave Heinies come to time. I know ’em!”
Commander Lang had his own way of going about this matter. He
used his own good judgment. Whether he believed he had obtained
the full truth from the prisoners or not about the Sea Pigeon, he
turned the destroyer’s prow toward the reaches of the western
Atlantic, leaving the eastern steamship lanes behind.
The crew only knew that the Colodia must be following at least
some faint trail of the raider. For the destroyer had been sent to get
the German ship, and Commander Lang was not the man to neglect
his work.
The radio men picked plenty of chatter out of the air; but, as far
as the Navy Boys knew, though they tried to find out, little of it
referred to the German raider.
One thing George Belding did learn from his friend, Sparks: The
“ghost talk” was rife in the static once more. This wireless spectre
had all the operators in a disturbed state of mind, to say the least.
“Sparks seems to have lost his common sense for fair, over it,” Al
Torrance observed. “You know more about this aero stuff than any
of us, George. What do you really think it is? Somebody trying to call
the Colodia?”
“That is exactly what Sparks doesn’t know. He admitted to me
that he caught the destroyer’s name, but not her number. It’s got so
now this ‘ghost’ breaks in at a certain time in the afternoon watch—
just about the same time each day. One of his assistants says he has
spelled out ‘Colodia,’ too. But it may be nothing but a game.”
“How ‘game’?” asked Ikey eagerly.
“Somebody fooling with a machine. Sparks says the sounds grate
just like ‘static!’”
“And that is as clear as mud,” complained Frenchy Donahue.
“Could this unexplained talk be some new German code?” Whistler
Morgan asked.
“All Sparks got is in English; but it doesn’t amount to any sense,
he says. If it is a code, he never heard the like before.”
“It might be a German code with English words,” put in Al. “One
word in code means a whole sentence.”
“I believe you! Wish Sparks would let me put on the harness and
listen in on it,” grumbled Belding. “I haven’t forgotten the wireless
Morse I learned back there before the war.”
“Go to it, George,” urged Al.
“I wish I knew Morse,” added Whistler. “Get into it, George. Get
Sparks to let you try a round with the ‘ghost talk.’ He is friendly to
you.”
Thus encouraged, Belding took a chance with the chief of the
radio during that very afternoon watch. It was during these hours, it
was reported, that the strange and mysterious sounds broke in upon
the receiving and sending of the operators aboard the Colodia.
“It is against the rules to let you into this room, boy,” Sparks told
him, smiling. “I can’t give up my bench to a ham.”
“I’m no ham, Mr. Sparks,” declared Belding. “I’ve shown you
already that I can read and send Morse.”
“I don’t know,” the radio man murmured, shaking his head.
But he was really fond of George Belding, and the latter had to
coax only a little more. This, as a rule, was not a busy hour.
He allowed the youth to slide in on the bench and handed him the
head harness. George slipped the hard rubber discs over his ears
and tapped the slide of the tuner with a professional finger.
“Plenty of static,” he observed, for it was trickling, exploding, and
hissing in the receivers.
“No induction,” Sparks suggested.
Belding slid up the starting handle. The white-hot spark exploded
in a train of brisk dots and dashes. Belding snapped up the aerial
switch and listened. The message he was catching from the air was
nothing to interest him or the Colodia.
He was sensitizing the detector and soon adjusted the tuning
handle for high waves. The chief watched him with a growing
appreciation of the boy’s knowledge of the instrument and its
government.
On these high planes the ether was almost soundless. Only a little
static, far-removed, trickled in. It was in the high waves that most of
the naval work is done and the sending of orders to distant ships is
keyed as fine as a violin string—and sounds as musical.
Sliding the tuning handle downward, Belding listened for
commercial wave-lengths. Something—something new and
unutterably harsh—stuttered in his ear.
He jerked back from the instrument and glanced suspiciously at
Sparks.
“Do you hear it?” the latter demanded.
“I hear something,” said the young fellow grimly. “It—beats—me
——”
Were these the sounds that had been disturbing the radio men,
off and on, for a week or more? Laboriously, falteringly, the rasping
sounds grated against Belding’s eardrums. It was actually torturing!
The atrocious sending began, in Belding’s ear, to be broken into
clumsy dots and dashes. The wave-lengths were not exactly
commercial; nor did the sending seem to be in the Continental code.
He listened and listened; he turned the tuner handle up and
down. He got the soundwaves short and got them long; high and
low as well. But one fact he was sure of: they were the same sounds
—the same series of clumsy dots and dashes—repeated over and
over again!
George Belding swung at last from the instrument and tore off the
receiving harness. Sparks was grinning broadly upon him.
“Ugh!” ejaculated the youth. “Is it a joke? I am almost deafened
by the old thing.”
“What do you make out the ghost talk to be, George?”
“Are you sure it isn’t a joke?”
“Not on my part, I do assure you,” declared the radio man.
“Then,” said Belding slowly, “I believe somebody is trying to
communicate a message and for some reason can’t quite put it
through.”
“Did you get the word ‘Colodia’?” Sparks asked quickly.
“No, sir. But one word I believe I did get,” said the young fellow
gravely.
“What’s that?”
“‘Help,’” Belding repeated. “‘H-e-l-p, Help.’ That’s what I got and
all I got. I do not think I am mistaken in that!”
CHAPTER XIX—A DIFFERENCE OF OPINION
Had George Belding not been such a stubborn fellow he never would
have stuck to his opinion about the strange call received by the
Colodia’s radio men, by wireless telegraph. For neither the chief,
called Sparks, nor his assistants or students (the latter scornfully
entitled “hams”) had spelled anything like “help” out of the strange
sounds to which Belding’s attention had been called.
“Don’t tell me such stuff,” insisted the chief. “That’s as old as the
hills, George. When I first went into wireless, it used to be the
standing joke to feed the student a ‘Help! We are lost’ call to steady
his nerves. It was called C D Q in those old times.”
“I am not kidding,” said George Belding rather sullenly, for he did
not like to be laughed at.
“No. And don’t try to make me believe that anybody is trying to
kid you with a ‘help’ call,” Sparks said, shaking his head.
But as we have said, George was stubborn. Sparks thought he had
spelled out the name of the destroyer in those grating sounds. If so,
why shouldn’t it be just as reasonable that Belding had heard the
dots and dashes spelling ‘h-e-l-p’?
Belding put this up to Whistler and Al when he had a chance to
tell them about it in the first dog watch. He was not excited at all.
He simply did not like to have his word doubted or be laughed at by
Sparks.
“As for being laughed at,” the very sensible Philip Morgan said, “it
strikes me that I wouldn’t be worried by that. Your opinion is just as
good as old Sparks’ or anybody else’s, for that matter. Eh, Al?”
“Why not?” returned the other Seacove boy. “It was George heard
the sounds, not Sparks. Get a chance to listen in again, George.”
“Can it be possible that there is somebody trying to send a
message for help to the Colodia?” Whistler went on slowly.
“Cracky!” ejaculated Al, “I didn’t think of that.”
“Sparks says that he thought he spelled out the destroyer’s name.
George has heard the word ‘help.’ Get after it, George!” he added,
earnestly. “Don’t let ’em put you down.”
“But who under the sun would be doing such a thing?” demanded
Al. “Is it a joke, after all?”
“It will be a sorry joke if our Government gets after the sender.
The law is mighty strict about private wireless plants, you know,”
said Phil Morgan.
“There is one sure thing,” declared Belding. “If anybody is trying
to call this ship, they don’t know much about the regulation codes
and sendings. They don’t know the destroyer’s number, and the way
they handle Morse is a caution to cats!”
“Stick to it,” advised Whistler.
But George did not really need to be urged in this direction. The
next afternoon watch he was back at the radio room begging to
“listen in” again. Because of the interest the radio men had begun to
feel in the “ghost talk” in the air at this time of day, both Sparks and
one of his assistants were on hand.
The regular radio men were listening for the peculiar voice in the
wireless, at all hours; but it seemed to be confined now to an hour
or two in mid-afternoon. One after the other the Colodia’s radio
force slipped on the receiving harness and listened to the mystery.
Belding got his chance, in spite of the fact that Sparks laughed at
him.
This time Belding kept the instrument tuned down to the
commercial waves on which it seemed the “ghost talk” was the more
easily transmitted. Now and then he got the spelling of a letter
clearly. But not a word in its entirety did he hear on this day—not
even “help.”
“I get ‘r’, ‘d’, and ‘b’ a lot,” he signed, turning the receiver over to
Sparks again. “They are in rotation—‘r’, ‘d’, ‘b’—and sometimes there
follows another ‘d’. There are letters missing between them,
excepting between the ‘b’ and the first ‘d’.”
“No ‘help’ stuff, eh?” queried Sparks.
“Nor any ‘Colodia’,” snorted Belding.
But he sat and watched the radio chief give his full attention to
the mystery, and after a minute or two saw that the man was
spelling something out carefully on the pad of scratch-paper under
his hand. Belding peered over his shoulder and saw Sparks set down
these letters as he heard them in the sound waves:
R DB
R DB R
R DB D
RE B D
R D RD
R DB
RE I
Sparks pulled off the harness and swung about to look at George
Belding.
“Is that about what you heard?” he demanded.
“Yes, sir. At least, in part.”
“Well, hang it all!” cried Sparks. “That’s a still newer combination.
It’s neither ‘Colodia’ nor ‘help.’ I tell you it beats me, George.”
When Belding left the wireless room he took with him the piece of
paper on which Sparks had written. The letters in combination
seemed to mean nothing; but he showed them to Whistler and Al
Torrance when he found those two chums together.
“Looks like one of those puzzles they have on the back page of
the papers at home,” said Al. “You know: The ones you are
supposed to fill in with other letters to make ’em read the same up
and down and across.”
“This is no acrostic,” said Belding firmly.
But Whistler stared steadily at the paper for some minutes without
saying a word. Only his lips slowly puckered, and Al nudged him to
break off the thoughtful whistle which he knew his chum was about
to vent.
“Huh? Oh! All right,” murmured Morgan, accepting Al’s admonition.
“What do you see?” asked Belding.
“I see that it is the same word each time, of course,” replied
Whistler. “But I don’t believe my eyes.”
“What’s that?” demanded the other two boys.
“If the ghost of the air,” said Whistler gravely, “did not spell out
the name of this destroyer this afternoon, it certainly did try to put
over the name of another ship.”
“Wow!” exclaimed Al. “Tell us.”
“What ship do you mean?” asked Belding, scowling thoughtfully at
the paper.
Quickly Whistler covered the letters on the sheet as, with his own
pencil, he filled in the gaps between them. When he flashed the
sheet before the eyes of his two friends each of the lines of letters
made the same word. And that word was:
“REDBIRD”
“My goodness! You have gone crazy, Phil Morgan!” almost shouted
Belding.
“Cracky! that’s the ship your sisters and Belding’s folks are aboard,
you know,” gasped Torry. “Why, Whistler, I believe with George that
you are crazy!”
“All I see,” said Morgan, quite unruffled, “is that George brought
us some letters that, very easily and sensibly, make the name of his
father’s ship now bound for Bahia.”
“Cracky!” exclaimed Al again.
“But—but do you suppose anything has happened to father,
mother and the girls? Do you really, Morgan?”
“Who said anything about ‘something happening’ to them?”
demanded his friend with some heat. “I am merely pointing out the
possibility that the name of that ship is in a wireless message that
somebody seems anxious to put over.”
“But who—what——”
“Exactly!” exclaimed Whistler, stopping Belding at that point. “We
don’t know. We have merely learned that the radio men first spelled
out the name of this destroyer. Now you and the chief have caught
the name of the Redbird. The two names seem to be in the
combination. Therefore, is it ‘crazy’, as you fellows say, for me to
suggest that perhaps the mysterious message deals with both of the
vessels named?”
“I begin to see your idea, Phil,” admitted Belding. “But it did shake
me. You know, I spelled out ‘help’ first of all.”
“But you did not get that to-day,” said Whistler quickly. Then he
added: “We know the Redbird is fitted with wireless.”
“Yes.”
“Perhaps somebody aboard is trying to send a message to us just
for fun.”
“For fun, indeed!” exclaimed Al Torrance. “People aren’t fooling
with the radio ‘for fun’ in these times.”
“I don’t know. You know how girls are,” drawled Whistler. “George,
does your sister Lilian know anything about Morse and the radio?”
“Oh, my prophetic soul!” gasped Belding, suddenly arousing to the
point Whistler made. “I should say she did! Lil got to be fairly good
at both sending and receiving when we had the plant on the roof of
our house.”
“Could this be Lilian trying to get a message over to us—just for
fun?”
“Cut out the ‘fun’ business,” implored Al. “That doesn’t sound
reasonable.” But that was the very idea that caught George Belding.
“She’s that kind of girl,” he declared. “Tell her she must not do a
thing, and she’s sure to try it. But I don’t understand——”
“Of course, it’s only a guess on my part,” Whistler said quickly.
“But can’t you think of some way to try her out—identify her, you
know? Tell Sparks what you think and get him to let you try to send
her a message.”
“Whew!” exclaimed Al. “So there’s nothing more than that in it?
Shucks! Another mystery gone fooey.”
“Phil’s idea does sound awfully reasonable,” added Belding,
evidently much relieved in his mind.
Phil Morgan’s countenance did not reveal his secret gravity. He still
remembered that the word “help” had been connected with the
names of the two craft—the destroyer and the merchant vessel—
which seemed to be a part of the strange message out of the air.
CHAPTER XX—TOO LATE AGAIN
If the Seacove boys, George Belding and the radio force, found an
interest aside from the general object of the Colodia’s cruise, the
bulk of the crew were not so fortunate. Their keen outlook for the
German raider the Sea Pigeon, began to be dulled as the tropical
days dragged by.
The destroyer was running down a westerly course near enough
to the equatorial regions to cause every one to feel the languor that
usually affects the northern-born in southern climes. The boys lolled
around the decks, and found drill and stations hard tasks indeed.
Everybody said: “Is it hot enough for you?” And with the
permission of the executive officer more than half the crew slept on
deck instead of below in their hammocks.
During a part of the afternoon watch the engines of the destroyer
were stopped, a life-raft was lowered on the shady side of the ship,
and the boys in squads were allowed to bathe, the quartermaster’s
boat with two sharpshooters in it, lying off a few yards on the watch
for sharks.
The Colodia had an objective point, however, toward which she
was heading without much loss of time. Hour after hour she
steamed at racing speed and through an ocean that seemed to be
utterly deserted by other craft.
In those wartimes the lanes of steam shipping, and sailing craft as
well, had been changed. Ships sometimes sailed far off their usual
course to reach in safety a port, the track to which was watched by
the German underseas boats. The Colodia would ordinarily have
passed half a hundred ships on this course which she followed
toward the American shores.
Cruising the seas, whether for pleasure, profit, or on war bent, is a
very different thing nowadays from formerly. Practically this change
has been brought about by a young Italian who had a vision.
No longer does a ship go blindly on her course, unable to learn
who may be her neighbor, deaf to what the world ashore is doing as
long as she remains out of port.
The wireless telegraph has made this change. The radio furnishes
all the gossip of sea and land. Even in wartime the news out of the
air puts those at sea in touch with their fellowmen.
All day long, and through the night as well, the radio force on the
Colodia might listen to the chatter of the operators on land and sea.
Unnecessary conversation between operators is frowned upon; but
who is going to “listen in” on a couple of thousand miles of wireless
and report private conversations between working radio men?
On the Colodia a man was at the instrument practically every
minute, day or night. Commercial messages, weather warnings, code
sendings of three or four Governments, the heavy soundwaves from
Nauem, the German naval headquarters, flashes from ship to ship—
all this grist passed through the wireless mill of the destroyer.
All the time, too, they were seeking news of the Sea Pigeon, the
German raider, which the Colodia had been sent out particularly to
find. Of course, the finish of the submarine One Thousand and One
had been reported to the naval base, and an emphatic, “Well done!”
had been returned. But the sinking of the submarine, after all, was
not the main issue.
As the destroyer had combed the sea for her prey, so she combed
the air by her wireless for news of the raider. And when the news
came it was as unexpected as it was welcome. The men were
offering wagers that the destroyer would end in seeing New York
again rather than sighting the Sea Pigeon, when just after the wheel
and lookout were relieved at four bells of the morning watch, the
radio began to show much activity.
Messengers passed, running to and fro from the station to the
officers’ quarters. There was not usually much radio work at this
hour, and the watch on deck began to take notice.
George Belding slid around to the radio room and showed a
questioning countenance to Sparks who was himself on duty.
“What’s doing, sir?” he asked the radio chief.
“Well, we haven’t picked up your particular S O S; but there is
trouble somewhere dead ahead.”
“I can feel that the engines are increasing speed, sir,” Belding said.
“Does it mean that we may have a scrap with a sure-enough Hun?”
“The message sounds like it,” admitted the radio man softly.
“There’ll be trouble, I reckon. You’ll hear all about it, soon enough.”
Commander Lang himself appeared on the bridge, and this was a
surprisingly early hour for him. Other officers gathered, and there
began a somewhat excited conference. The boatswain’s mates failed
to pipe the clothes lines triced up. Half an hour earlier than usual the
hammocks were ordered stowed. Ikey Rosenmeyer, who loved to
sleep till the last minute, was tumbled out unceremoniously and had
to stow his hammock in his shirt!
The hammock stowers likewise stopped down the hammock cloths
early, and the whole crew had their mess gear served out long
before the galley was ready to pipe breakfast. During the meal hour
word was passed to shift into uniform instead of work clothes.
“It’s extra drill, I bet,” declared one of the boys pessimistically.
“More work for the wicked.”
“There is something doing, sure enough,” Phil Morgan declared. “I
think we shall be piped to stations before long.”
He had not seen George Belding then. When the latter reported
what he had heard at the radio room Whistler was more than ever
confident that there was something of importance about to take
place. It was some time, however, before the real fact went abroad
among the members of the crew.
The radio had indeed brought news at last of the raider. She was
supposed to be lurking near a point not more than two hours’ run
ahead of the Colodia. A report from a cattleship had been caught,
stating that she was chased just at daybreak by a steamship that
was heavily armed with deck guns, and that she surely would have
been overtaken by the enemy had fog not shut down and given the
cattle boat a chance to zig-zag away on a new course.
The description of the attacking vessel fitted that of the raider, Sea
Pigeon. Commander Lang and his officers believed that there was a
chance of meeting the German—of approaching her, indeed,
unheralded.
There was a good deal of fog about; but overhead the sky was
clear and there was the promise of a hot day before noon. Having
the approximate latitude and longitude of the cattleship when she
sighted the raider, Commander Lang believed the Colodia had a
good chance of overtaking the German ship while she was lingering
about on the watch for her prey.
The fog was growing thinner, but had by no means entirely
disappeared even in the vicinity of the destroyer, when her wireless
began to chatter. Sparks sent a messenger on the run to the bridge.
This incident visibly increased the excitement of both officers and
crew. Word was passed in whispers from the petty officers stationed
near the bridge that the call was another S O S.
A second message followed almost immediately. The Colodia’s
engines were speeded up. The crew was piped to quarters. The gun
crews made ready their initial charges. Everything about the decks
was properly stopped down and the destroyer was quickly put into
battle trim.
Message after message came from the radio room. Belding came
breathlessly to Whistler and Al Torrance with the announcement that
it was a sugar ship being attacked, and surely by the raider. Soon
the distant reports of guns could be heard.
“If the Susanne can only hold the Heinies off till we get there,”
said Belding, who had learned the name of the sugar-laden ship,
“we will show them something.”
“We will show them if the German raider isn’t too fast for us,”
responded Al. “They say this Sea Pigeon is mighty fast and a pretty
nifty boat into the bargain.”
“The old Colodia will show her,” said Whistler with confidence.
“Just give us a chance!”
The destroyer plowed on through both sea and fog, while the
rumble of the guns grew in magnitude. Whether much damage was
being done or not, a good many shots were exchanged by the
combatants. It might have been a veritable naval engagement.
The fog swirled about the bows of the Colodia, and the lookouts
strained their eyes to catch the first glimpse of the fighting ships. As
the fog was thinning from above, the watchers in the tops had the
best chance of first sighting the sugar ship and the raider that had
attacked her.
A wireless transmitted news of the fight as it progressed. The
Germans had not yet succeeded in putting the merchant ship’s radio
out of commission. In response, the destroyer had assured the
Susanne of her own approach.
“Hold on! We are coming!” the Colodia’s radio had sent forth.
“Enemy half mile off. Steaming two knots to our one,” came the
response from the sugar ship.
“Fight it out! We are coming!” repeated Sparks from the destroyer.
“Shell has burst abaft the afterhouse companion. Two of after gun
crew killed. Volunteers take their places. We have put a shell
through enemy’s upperworks.”
“Great! Keep it up!” chattered the Colodia’s radio.
“Another shell has reached us aft. Women and children sent
forward to forecastle.”
The final sentence, read aloud by an officer from the bridge,
excited the crew of the Colodia to the utmost.
The American seamen were spurred to fighting pitch now. Their
only desire was to get at the raider and her crew.
“It’s a running fight between her and the Susanne,” Morgan said
to Al Torrance. “Otherwise the German shells might have reached
the sugar ship’s engines before this.”
“Think of them shelling that merchant ship that has women
passengers aboard!” groaned Al. “What can those Germans be
thinking of? What will happen to them after this war is over?”
“They all believe they are going to win,” Belding said gloomily.
“That is what is the matter. And if they should, the whole world will
be treated just as ruthlessly as the Germans please.”
“Don’t talk that way! Don’t talk that way!” shouted Al. “I won’t
listen to such a possibility! They can’t win this war, and that’s all
there is to it!”
“Quiet, there,” admonished the voice of an officer, and the boys
subsided to whispered comments, one to the other.
Again and again the wireless chattered the cry for help. The guns
thundered ahead. Suddenly there arose a rosy light in the sky,
spreading through the fog in a wide wave of color.
“She’s blown up!” was the general and hopeless ejaculation from
the crew of the destroyer.
“Her engines went that time, sure enough—and her boilers, too,”
groaned Ensign MacMasters, who chanced to stand near the gun
crew to which Whistler and Al belonged and where Belding was
stationed in reserve. “She’s helpless now. If we don’t get there soon
——”
There were no more radio messages. The calls to the Susanne
were not answered. The melting fog soon gave the lookouts a
clearer view ahead.
“Steamship tops and rigging in sight, sir!” was the cry to the
bridge. Then, a minute later: “She’s on fire, sir, and sinking by the
stern.”
“Ah!” muttered Ensign MacMasters. “We are too late again!”

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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

The new millennial rose garden 12

The evolution of roses 18

Rose growth habits 34

Roses in the garden 35

Regional rose growing 50

What do roses need? 64

Rose care: feeding your soil 73

Rose care: diseases 74

Rose care: pests 76

The chemical-free rose directory: 88

Roses by class, habit, and color 242

Roses by color 249

Metric conversions 254 Acknowledgments 257

Resources 255 Photo credits 258

Suggestions for further reading 256 Index 259

Beautiful, healthy roses

Roses without chemicals

The new millennial

The rose garden at

14 The new millennial rose garden

Signs throughout the

The new millennial rose garden 15

16 The new millennial rose garden

18 The new millennial rose garden

Rosa canina Rosa gallica ‘Officinalis’

The new millennial rose garden 19

Some of my favorite Gallica

20 The new millennial rose garden

Damask | The next new class of roses were ‘Leda’

Some of my favorite Damask roses

‘Kazanlik’ Albas actually include roses that range from

The new millennial rose garden 21

Early Alba roses are thought to be descen-

Some of my favorite Alba

‘Great Maiden’s Blush’

‘Pompon Blanc Parfait’ ‘Félicité Parmentier’

‘Sappho’ Centifolia | A simple qualifying

22 The new millennial rose garden

hundred. These blooms, which are quite

The new millennial rose garden 23

Some of my favorite Moss roses include

‘Capitaine John Ingram’

‘Gloire des Mousseux’