CARRIED AWAY TO SEA
As the big, black hull of the steamer crashed into the sail boat, a loud
shout went up from her deck. The note of fright in it penetrated even
through the shrieks of the gale.
"Boat under our starboard bow, sir--we've run her down."
The warning shout and the cry that announced the disaster were
punctuated only by a breath. Then followed a babel of orders and the
quick clanging of signal bells in the engine room. The sudden churning
of the screws in the angry waters told that the steamer's engines were
reversed.
A man rushed out of the cabin and took a commanding place on the
steamer's bridge.
"Where did she go down?" he shouted in the ear of the mate, who clung to
the rail and peered back into the darkness.
"About a hundred feet aft, sir," the man answered, pointing into the
blackness that enveloped the steamer.
"Lower the port lifeboat," shouted the newcomer on the scene to the men
who were collected on the forward deck.
He darted back toward the cabin as he spoke and the sound of creaking
ropes told that his orders were being rapidly carried out.
"The boat will never live in this sea," shouted the mate.
The man turned at the cabin door with a scowl.
"You heard my orders," he said, sharply. "There are lives to be saved
and it is not a question whether the boat will live. We will make her
live. Call for volunteers if the men have any scruples about trusting
themselves with me, but get the boat into the water at once. Every
minute counts."
He was gone but a second and emerged from the cabin in a heavy suit of
oilskins. He sprang nimbly down the companionway to the deck.
"Who goes with me in the boat?" he shouted to the assembled crew.
"I, sir, and I," cried the men in chorus, all anxious to be in the boat
with their commander.
"You, and you, and you," he shouted, as he designated six men with a
quick movement of his forefinger. The men tumbled over the side into the
boat that was tossing like a cockle shell in the waves that threatened
to dash her to pieces against the big steamer. The captain slipped over
the side and took his place in the stern. It was a difficult task to get
the boat safely off, but it was finally accomplished by skill and
strength; and as she rode away from the side on the top of a nasty
roller she was greeted with a cheer from the disappointed men who had
been left behind and who longed to be with their commander in his
perilous undertaking.
As they rowed away from the steamer there was no sign in the darkness of
the little boat they had run down, but the man at the tiller steered as
determinedly as if he knew for just what point in the blackness he was
headed. With his head bent slightly forward and his big body swaying
with the rock and pitch of the lifeboat he kept his eyes fixed straight
ahead.
Suddenly he half rose in the tossing boat and shouted to the rowers, who
were bending their backs to the oars that every now and then would sink
deep into a towering wave and the next instant swing viciously through
the air as the boat rolled up on the crest of a big billow.
"Steady all," he called in a deep growl. "Now hold her."
The men dug their oars into the tumbling sea in an effort to bring the
boat to a standstill, but the waves caught her and hurried her on. The
sailors caught a fleeting glimpse in the darkness of the bottom of an
upturned boat to which three boys were clinging. The man at the tiller
swung the boat's head around as they swept by and, caught broadside on
by a big wave, she rolled for a moment as if she was about to capsize.
But the trained sailors held stoutly to the leeward oars, and the boat
righted herself and rose like a cork on the wave and settled down so
close to the wrecked yacht that the man in the stern leaned over and
tossed the end of a rope beyond the heads of the boys.
"Catch it and make fast to something," he cried, as the rope fell. "We
cannot get any closer to you without smashing this boat. Jump!"
* * * * *
When Harry came to the surface after the collision he found that he was
not hurt and, shaking his head like a dog, he prepared to make a fight
for his life against the sea. His first thought was of his companions,
but it was impossible to tell what their fate had been. It took all his
strength to battle with the waves and keep himself afloat. Now and then,
as he was carried helplessly to the crest of a big billow, he tried to
peer into the darkness that surrounded him. He could see nothing but
empty blackness. It was impossible to swim, had he known in which
direction to head. All he could do was to husband his strength to keep
on the surface and to breast and rise with each wave that passed under
him.
He knew it would be useless to shout, for his voice was weak from his
exertions and could not be heard above the howling of the wind and the
lash of the sea. He could faintly hear the commotion on the steamer and
see the lights from her portholes when she rode a high wave. But he had
no hope that any boat that might be lowered could reach him in that sea.
Once he thought he heard faint cries for help near him, and as he sank
into the trough of a sea, a black mass swept by him. He groped wildly to
reach it and his hand touched a dangling rope. He seized it with the
frenzy of a drowning man and the next instant had pulled himself
alongside of what proved to be the wreck of the yacht. He dragged
himself up and threw his arms over the keel and for the first time since
he had been swept under the surface of the water drew a long breath. The
touch of something solid in that angry sea put new life into him and he
shouted feebly for very joy.
An answering cry, weak as his own, came from the other side of the wreck
and he saw two heads just above the line of the keel. Bert and Mason had
also been fortunate enough to reach the upturned half of the boat, and
for a time at least all were saved from the maw of the sea.
Just then the lifeboat reached them and the rope cast by the captain's
strong hand fell over their heads. Harry caught it and managed to make
it fast to a ring bolt. Then without hesitation the boys one by one
dropped off into the water and half swimming and half dragging
themselves by the rope, made their way from the wreck to the lifeboat
into which they were pulled by strong hands. As soon as they were
dragged aboard, the boys sank to the bottom of the boat exhausted.
"How many of you were there?" asked the captain, as the last of the
three boys was pulled into the boat.
"Only three," answered Harry, weakly.
"All right, then," said the captain, with a tone of relief in his voice,
"You are all accounted for. Pull men."
By the time they reached the steamer the boys had revived and were able
to scramble up the rope-ladder that was lowered over the side. The
captain was the last to go aboard. As he reached the deck he looked at
the bedraggled youngsters with a good-natured smile.
"Better come below and get on some dry clothes," he said, as he nodded
his head to the mate on the bridge.
The bells in the engine-room jingled and the big steamer began to forge
ahead again into the storm as if nothing had happened to delay her
voyage. The drenched boys gladly followed the captain into his cabin. He
was a man of enormous build, big-boned and muscular. His head was
covered with a mass of curling blond hair and his face was clean-shaven.
As he threw off his oilskins and tossed them into a corner of the cabin
the boys saw to their astonishment that he wore a fashionable suit of
summer flannels and a handsome negligee shirt. His trousers, which were
turned up at the bottom in the latest mode, were suspended by a fancy
leather belt and his feet were encased in low tan shoes. He looked like
the owner of a yacht off on a summer pleasure cruise, but to the eye of
the veriest land lubber it would be at once apparent that the steamer
which he commanded was not a yacht. He was about thirty years old and
carried his size and weight with an ease that showed the training of an
athlete.
After he had thrown aside his oilskins, he began to rummage through a
big chest and finally threw out a lot of old togs for the inspection of
his involuntary guests.
"Good deal like a Baxter Street fit, I guess," he said, laughing. There
was just a touch of brogue in his voice. "Never mind. Chuck off the wet
ones. These will have to do until we can get the others dried in the
engine-room. Roll up the trousers and sleeves and look out that I don't
tread on the tails of your coats."
The boys were glad to get out of their wet and chilled clothing and
needed no second invitation. They were a funny looking trio when they
had rigged themselves out in the captain's duds. The sleeves of the
Midget's coat hung to the ground and his trousers' legs doubled up twice
before he could walk. Harry was the tallest of the three and yet the
captain's clothes hung on him like a sack on a pole.
"Now I'll bet you are hungry," said the captain as he surveyed the boys
with a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. "What do you say to a cup of
hot coffee and bite of biscuit? This ship is no hotel, as you will find
before you get through with her. Nothing better in the cabin than in the
fo'c'sel. But we have plenty of the sort we have and as often as we want
it."
He stepped to the door of the cabin as he spoke and called to a man on
deck:
"Send the cook aft."
"Aye, aye, sir," came an answering shout through the howling of the
wind. Presently another man appeared in the doorway and stood
respectfully awaiting orders.
"Cook, have these clothes taken to the engine-room to dry and then bring
us a pot of coffee and some biscuits. And serve coffee to the men on
watch--it is a nasty night."
"Aye, aye, sir," answered the man cheerily. It was plain the men were
glad to serve their captain.
In a short time the boys were sitting around the small table in the
cabin eagerly discussing the coffee and hardtack as if it had been the
most delicious repast.
A remark made by the captain had stuck in Harry's mind, and he took the
first opportunity to put the question that was bothering him.
"Where are you going to land us, captain?"
The big man leaned back in his chair and laughed long and loud. The boys
looked at him in surprise. It was not an agreeable laugh although there
was no ill-humor in it.
"What in thunder does he see to laugh at?" whispered Bert to Harry in a
disgusted tone.
"Wait, we shall find out in good time."
"We should like to be put ashore at Cottage City, if you please,"
continued Harry, ignoring the captain's merriment, "but if that is too
much out of your way, Nantucket will do and we can take the boat home in
the morning."
Again the captain went off into a paroxysm of laughter. The peals of
loud guffaws grated on the ears of the anxious boys.
"He can't be a bad man at heart," whispered Mason to Harry, "or he
wouldn't have taken so much trouble and run so much risk to pick us up
after his steamer ran us down."
"No, I don't understand it. I feel as if I were being kidnapped," said
Bert.
Presently the captain's fit of humor passed and his face became serious
again.
"Boys," he said, "I shall have to ask you to take things as they are and
ask no questions. You are my guests. Do not worry."
"But, captain, we must get home," said Mason petulantly.
The man smiled at the speaker.
"I hope we will all get home sometime," he said, quietly.
"You speak as if there were some doubt about it," said Harry quickly.
"There is," answered the captain, slowly.
The boys looked at one another in dismay. What did it mean? Harry was
the first to recover his composure.
"You surely intend to land somewhere," he said, half questioningly.
"Sure--if we are lucky."
"You mean that this storm is so bad that there is danger we may not
weather it?"
Again the captain laughed his big laugh.
"We'll weather this all right. It's only a capful of wind for the old
_Mariella_. She has ridden out many a storm that would make this one
look like thirty cents."
"Then if there is no danger from the weather, we demand that you land us
at the nearest port."
Harry drew himself up and looked very important as he spoke. The captain
only smiled indulgently.
"You might as well learn at the start, young gentlemen," he said
quietly, "that there is no such word as _demand_ recognized by Captain
Dynamite."
"Sounds like a pirate name," whispered the irrepressible Midget, loud
enough to be heard by the captain.
"I am something of a pirate," said the big man as if in reply. "Now I
will be quite frank with you. I shall not make any port except that of
my destination and that will be, if we have luck, in about six days from
to-night. I am sorry that you will have to remain with me against your
wishes, but you will admit that I am not responsible for your coming
aboard. In fact, if you will pardon the allusion to the little accident
back there, you are very lucky to be where you are and not tucked away
in Davy Jones' locker. I shall consider you my guests and you may have
the free run of the ship, but it will be impossible for you to leave it
until we reach port. Make the best of the situation, boys. It has been
forced on us both."
Harry jumped up impulsively, and held out his hand to the big man across
the table.
"Do not think we are ungrateful, sir. We know that we owe our lives to
you and that you risked yours to save us from drowning. But you forget
that we have folks ashore who will think we are drowned if we cannot get
some word to them."
The big skipper jumped to his feet, grasped Harry's outstretched hand
and shook it warmly.
"My boy," he said, "it is unfortunate and I regret it as much as you,
but it cannot be helped. If we pull through this voyage all right, you
will be able to get a message to your folks in the course of two weeks.
Now, it is pretty well into the night and I must go on deck for the last
watch, so you had better turn in."
As he spoke, the captain opened a door that led off the cabin and
disclosed a room as large as an ordinary stateroom with two berths on
each side.
"Here are four bunks. Turn in and sleep well. By the way, begin to feel
any little qualms at the stomach yet?"
The steamer, while like a house in comparison with the small boat in
which they had been tossed about, was still rolling and heaving in the
heavy seas with which she was battling. But the boys were all good
sailors and none of them felt anything like an attack of seasickness.
Harry, whose anxiety for the worry and pain which his absence would
cause those on shore, could not get off his mind the subject, and in a
persistent way returned to it like a terrier to a bone.
"Well, captain," he said, "admitting that for some reason which you do
not care to tell us, it is impossible for you to land until the end of
your voyage; will it not be possible to hail some passing vessel and
send a message back that we are safe and sound?"
The captain's face darkened, and a look such as the boys had not seen
there before, spread over his countenance. Instinctively they fell back
from him in his anger.
"I have told you that the situation cannot be remedied. Let us not
discuss the matter further. You are my guests. Do not force me to make
you my prisoners."