hard to
see, being against the mountains, while his own ships were clearly
outlined against a brilliant sunset. Ordering the armed merchantman
away he began the fight between the armoured cruisers: _Good Hope_ and
_Monmouth_ against _Scharnhorst_ and _Gneisenau_. The German ships
were newer, faster, better armed, and the best shooting vessels of the
German fleet. The first of their salvoes (volleys) to get home set the
_Good Hope_ blazing fore and aft. There was a gale blowing and big
seas running; so the end soon came. Cradock's last signal was for the
light cruiser _Glasgow_ to save herself, as she could do no further
service. But she stood by the _Monmouth_, whose own captain also
ordered her away with the signal that, being too hard hit to escape
himself, he would try to close the enemy so as to give the _Glasgow_ a
better chance. Suddenly, like a volcano, the _Good Hope_ was rent by a
shattering explosion. Then the _Monmouth_ began sinking by the head,
and her guns ceased firing. No boat could live in those mountainous
seas. So the _Glasgow_, now under the fire of the whole German
squadron, raced away for her life.

Von Spee then swept the coast; and British vessels had to take refuge
in Chilean harbours. But Captain Kinnear, a merchant skipper, ran the
gauntlet with a skill and courage which nothing could surpass. Off the
dreaded Straits of Magellan a German cruiser chased him at twenty-one
knots, his own _Ortega's_ regular full speed being only fourteen. But
he called for volunteers to help the stokers, whereupon every one of
the two hundred Frenchmen going home to fight at once stepped forward,
stripped to the waist, and whacked her up to eighteen. Yet still the
cruiser kept closing up. So Kinnear turned into Nelson's Channel, the
very worst channel in the very worst straits in the world, unlit,
uncharted, and full of the wildest currents swirling through pinnacle
rocks and over hidden reefs. The cruiser stopped, dumbfounded. The
_Ortega_ then felt her way ahead, got through without a scratch, and
took her Frenchmen safe to France.

Von Spee presently rounded the Horn and made for the Falkland Islands,
the British naval base in the South Atlantic. But, only a month after
the news of Coronel had found Sir Doveton Sturdee sitting at his desk
in London as the Third Sea Lord of the Admiralty, his avenging squadron
had reached the Falklands more than eight thousand miles away. Next
morning von Sp