ANOTHER SIGNAL OF DISTRESS.
Now that the boys had lost all fear of the Bonita, half their troubles
seemed suddenly to have vanished. As a matter of course, Harry and
Walter grieved because of the sorrow their unexplainable absence must
have caused at home; but their distress of mind was lessened very
materially by the belief that they would soon be in a condition to
return.
Even Bob appeared to be relieved by what was evidently the solution of
the mystery, and it was quite a jolly party which gathered in the saloon
to partake of the dinner prepared by Jim.
"Now that things seem to be straightened up a bit, an' all hands are
feelin' kinder nat'ral-like, I reckon we'll get some sail on the old
hooker this afternoon," Bob said when the meal was finished and he had
begun to make ready for the after-dinner smoke.
"There ain't wind enough to lift a pocket-handkerchief," Jim suggested,
"so why do you want more canvas?"
"I don't reckon it'll hold calm a great while, an' we must be ready when
the breeze does come. There's time now to give Harry an' Walter a
lesson in workin' ship, an' they need it."
The boys had no objection to make, for a certain amount of labor was
necessary if they ever hoped to reach home again, and they signified
their willingness to begin at once; but the old sailor insisted on
finishing his smoke before doing anything else.
"There's plenty of time," he said lazily, "an' we'll lay under the
awnin' till the sun gets a little nearer the water."
Then he arose from the table, and as the boys followed on deck they were
electrified by hearing him shout, as he shaded his eyes from the glare
and gazed southward:
"There's a steamer, lads! Now all we've got to do is hook on an' be
towed into port. Set the flag so's they'll know we're in distress, an'
we'll overhaul the hawsers to save time."
Before he ceased speaking the boys had made out that which caused Bob so
much excitement. It was a small craft coming toward them under steam, as
could be told from the thread of smoke which floated on the still air,
and after one glance at her Jim hoisted the signal of distress while the
others gathered in the bows to watch the welcome approach.
"It ain't a very big steamer," the young fisherman said as he rejoined
his companions.
"Most likely she's a tug what's got blown out to sea," Bob replied as he
went into the cabin for a glass; and when he came on deck again the boys
waited impatiently to learn what could be seen.
During fully ten minutes the old sailor held the glass to his eyes,
while a mystified expression came over his face as he said to Jim:
"Here, take this an' see what you can make out. It puzzles me, for a
fact."
"She looks like a tug," the boy said, after gazing at the approaching
craft several seconds; "but there's something queer on her bow."
"What about her spars?" Bob asked impatiently.
"She's got two short masts, and----Why, what's that? She's flying a
signal of distress!"
"That's about the size of it," Bob exclaimed as he brought his hand down
on the rail with a vigorous slap as if to give emphasis to his words.
"I thought my eyes must be playin' me a trick, so that's why I asked you
to look. Her bow has been stove, an' she's workin' up this way for
help."
"Well," and Jim lowered the glass with a gesture of disappointment,
"she's comin' to a pretty poor place, for we've got our hands full
tryin' to help ourselves."
During the next half hour hardly a word was spoken, so occupied were all
hands with watching the stranger, which approached very slowly, and at
the end of that time she was almost within hailing distance.
It was a small tug with a flag run half-way up the stumpy mainmast, and
her bow stove from the cut-water nearly to the pilot-house. A stream of
water coming from the starboard side told that the steam-pump was
necessary to keep her afloat; but no person save a boy about eighteen
years of age, who was at the wheel, could be seen.
"She must be pretty nigh as short-handed as we are," Bob said; and then
came a hail.
"Brig ahoy!"
"Ahoy on the tug!"
"Can you send me some men? The steamer is sinking, and I am the only one
on board."
"Who's running the engine?" Bob shouted.
"I am, and trying to steer at the same time."
"There's only one man an' three boys here. Can't you manage to come
alongside?"
The helmsman waved his hand as if in reply and disappeared, when the
steamer's speed was checked. Then he entered the pilot-house again,
going below once more to stop the machinery entirely when within fifty
yards of the brig.
By this means the tug was brought so near that a heaving-line could be
thrown aboard, and ten minutes later she was lying alongside the Bonita
as a tired, hungry-looking boy stepped over the brig's rail.
"I reckon you've been havin' a decently tough time," Bob said by way of
starting the conversation.
"Since yesterday morning I've been trying to keep her afloat. If some
craft hadn't hove in sight to-day I should have given up, and probably
gone to the bottom with her."
"How did you get in such a mess?"
"An ocean steamer ran into us at sunrise yesterday. Before she could
clear herself every one of the tug's crew, except myself, climbed on
board over the bow. I was the engineer, and had an assistant. He was on
duty at the time, and I asleep in the after cabin. The shock of the
collision threw me out of the bunk and stunned me, I reckon, for when I
came on deck there was no craft in sight. Since then I've kept steam on
so the pump would work, and run in the hope of sighting some craft."
"Where do you hail from?"
"Philadelphia. The Sea Bird is a new boat, and we were taking her to
Cuba."
"How long have you been out?"
"Five days from the Capes."
"Then we've made more of a southin' than I reckoned on," Bob said half
to himself, and seeing a look of inquiry on the stranger's face he gave
a brief account of the Bonita from the time the boys came aboard;
saying, in conclusion: "We're better off than you, for the brig is
sound; so you'd best bring your traps over the rail an' let the steamer
sink when she gets ready. I reckon with your help we can crawl in toward
the mainland an' make a tidy bit of salvage at the same time. What's
your name?"
"Joseph Taylor. The only work I have ever done on ship-board has been in
the engine-room, and I'm afraid I sha'n't make much of a sailor."
"You've got strength an' pluck," Bob said approvingly, "an' that's
enough."
"But I don't like to give up trying to save the Sea Bird. She isn't
stove below the water-line, is new, and is worth fifteen thousand
dollars."
"I'm afraid, lad, that we haven't got force enough to do very much in
the way of ship-building;" and Bob shook his head gravely as if to say
he thought it a hopeless case. "Howsomever, while there's no wind we
sha'n't be wastin' time, so it won't do any harm to have a look at her."
Joe Taylor led the way over the rail, and the three boys, eager to see
the little steamer, followed directly behind Bob, Jim whispering to his
friends:
"If this cruise don't end pretty soon we shall have a reg'lar cripples'
crew aboard. Here's me, who come from the Mary Walker; you, that never
belonged to any craft; the old Bonita, with nobody to work her; Bob, as
a remnant of the Trade Wind, an' now another feller with a sinkin' tug.
It's a nice crowd to talk about salvage when they can't help
theirselves!"
"Just let us get ashore once more, an' I'll be satisfied to have
somebody else make money by taking these crafts into port!" and Walter
leaped on to the deck of the tug in a discontented way, as if he fancied
the shuttered steamer had brought fresh trouble and complications upon
them.
The litter of splintered timbers, loose ropes and general wreckage on
the forward deck of the Sea Bird gave her the appearance of having
suffered more injury than really was the case. Instead of a sharp,
narrow bow, as is usual on crafts of her kind, the hull flared very
decidedly from the water-line to the deck, thus giving her greater
carrying capacity; and it was this upper portion which had been cut
into, leaving the lower part in fair condition.
All this Bob saw at a glance after going on board, and he at once began
a careful examination with a view to ascertaining how badly her seams
had been strained.
"What amount of coal have you got?" he asked, coming on deck after
spending fully half an hour in the hold.
"Enough to run three or four days."
"That wouldn't carry her to the Capes, if your reckonin' is right as to
the time she's been out; but we might manage to make some nearer port,"
he said half to himself; and then added, in a louder tone: "I calculate
the hole might be patched up with spare canvas an' plenty of tar; but
we'd need fair weather till the job was done."
"If you could manage that part of it I can tow the brig, providing one
of your party steers," said the engineer eagerly. "Why not tackle the
job? If the weather should change it would be only the loss of a few
hours' time."
Before committing himself to such a plan Bob made one more examination
of the shattered timbers, looked again in the hold, and then, after
lighting his pipe in the most deliberate manner, replied decidedly:
"We'll do the best we can, lad, pervidin' the balance of the Bonita's
crew is agreeable; an' by patchin' the steamer up I reckon it'll be
possible to pull the brig out of what looks like a bad mess."
He gazed inquiringly at the boys as he ceased speaking, and Harry,
answering for the others as well as himself, said in a reasonably
cheerful tone:
"We'll do all we know how; and it won't be our fault if we don't
succeed!"
But even as he spoke he doubted the wisdom of taking another burden on
their already overloaded shoulders; and that this opinion was shared by
Jim and Walter could be told from the expression of their faces.
Nevertheless, Bob's intentions were good. With the tug the brig could be
towed in a calm, and her progress stayed entirely, or checked, during
the hours of darkness when the danger of striking a reef would be
greatest. An engineer and a helmsman was all the force needed by such an
arrangement, and thus the voyage might be brought to a speedy conclusion
without other aid.