ADRIFT ON THE OCEAN
“That’s the end of Mr. Whale,” remarked Sam, in somewhat sorrowful
tones, as he looked at the trailing end of the severed rope. “There
goes the best line I ever had, and a harpoon I wouldn’t have lost for a
lot of money.”
“Maybe the whale will die from the wound,” said Jerry. “Anyway, he came
near making an end of us.”
“So he did,” replied Sam, brightening up. “It was the only thing to do.
Maybe I got the iron in deep enough, but I didn’t see any blood and
that’s the way to tell.”
“Shall we put back now?” asked Jerry.
“I s’pose we might as well. Can’t do anything more here. Where’s your
compass? and I’ll lay a course for you. It’s getting so hazy, and we’ve
twisted and turned so I can’t tell where the beach is.”
“Get out the compass, Bob,” called Jerry.
“Compass? I haven’t got the thing,” Bob replied.
“Course you have. I gave it to you the other day, when we were fixing
up the boat, and you told me you put it in the locker.”
“I don’t remember,” Bob replied.
“I saw you have it,” Ned said. “It was the new one, in a round metal
case.”
“Oh, that!” exclaimed Chunky. “Was that the compass! I thought it was a
can of peas or something like that.”
“Well, never mind what you thought it was, hand it over,” Jerry said.
“Why, I didn’t put it in the locker,” Bob answered.
“You didn’t put it in!” exclaimed Ned. “What in the world did you do
with it?”
“Why, I thought we had enough canned peas on board, and I left it in
the boathouse until our supply would run low. It’s there now, on a
shelf. I thought it was something to eat.”
“Well, you are the limit, Chunky!” exclaimed Jerry. “I always knew your
eating habits would make trouble and now they have, sure enough.”
“I couldn’t help it,” Bob said trying to think of some defense. “Why
didn’t you tell me it wasn’t anything to eat?”
“Hereafter I’ll label everything I hand you,” spoke Jerry
sarcastically. “You’re not safe aboard a boat!”
“No compass, eh?” questioned the old sailor. “Well, maybe one of you
have one for a watch charm, that would answer?”
But none of the boys had. The old sailor cast his eye toward the
clouds, that were beginning to gather, and looked across the waste of
waters. The haze was thickening.
“Are we in any danger?” asked Bob, his voice showing how anxious he
felt.
“Well, not right away,” replied Sam. “Still it’s going to be a risk
to go in any direction. We may hit the shore and we may not. We may
go farther out to sea than would be safe, and we might run up on the
rocks. It’s a ticklish position to be in. I remember one like it when
I was second mate on the _Rolling Porpoise_. We were cruising around
three days, without a drop to drink or anything to eat, before we found
the ship that was hidden by the fog.”
“We’ve got plenty to eat and lots of water to drink,” said Bob. “That’s
one comfort.”
“And a mighty good one it is, when you’re lost at sea,” put in Sam.
“You wouldn’t call us lost, would you?” asked Ned.
“I don’t know what else it is,” the sailor replied. “We don’t know
which way to go, and that’s as near lost as I want to be.”
“It’s your fault, Bob,” said Jerry.
“Needn’t rub it in, though,” came from Chunky, in aggrieved tones.
“We’ll do the best we can,” spoke Sam. “You trust to me and I’ll bring
you out of this if possible.”
But, though Sam made light of the plight they were in, it was not one
to be easily passed over. The party was in a good boat, a craft that
had been tried on the open sea, and which had proven its stability. The
_Dartaway_ was indeed a craft of which to be proud. But the boys were
farther out on the deep than they had been during the squall. Though it
was now calm, there was no telling how long it would remain so, and the
increasing haze seemed to promise a spell of bad weather.
“Let’s make everything snug,” suggested Sam. “That’s the first thing to
do. How about lights? We’ll have to show ’em after dark, to avoid being
run down.”
“We have them,” said Jerry. “Why, are we in any danger of collision?”
“Well, we’re not exactly in the path of steamers that go up and down
the coast,” the sailor replied, “but there’s no telling when one will
come along. Best to prepare for ’em.”
Under his direction the boys made fast all loose gear. Jerry looked to
the engine, found there was plenty of gasolene in the tank, and saw
that the awning posts were well secured. The covering was up, but the
side curtains had not yet been let down. Then the red and green lights
were set aglow, as, though it would not be dark for some time, Sam said
they ought to do as much as possible by daylight. There was no carbide
for the search light, but they did not think they would need it.
It was almost dark when all their preparations had been completed,
and Sam took a long look around to see if he could, through the haze,
make out anything that would serve for a mark to steer by. But it was
impossible.
“Maybe I can get a glimpse of the stars,” he said. “Once I get my eye
on the dipper I’m all right.”
“I thought it was the north star that sailors steered by,” spoke Ned.
“So it is, son, but there are two stars in the bowl of the dipper,
called the pointers, that are right in line with the north star. Get
your eye on them pointers, and you can tell where the north star is
easier than if you don’t see the big ladle,” and Sam began tightening
anew some ropes which did not just suit him.
But even the stars were blotted out by the curtain of mist and Sam’s
hopes were blighted. However, he made the best of it.
“I’ll risk it by the wind,” he said.
“How’s that?” asked Jerry.
“It’s generally blowing off shore at this time of night. If we keep the
breeze in our faces we may strike the beach.”
Accordingly the _Dartaway_ was headed into the teeth of the wind, and
the engine regulated to moderate speed. Through the darkness the craft
sped over the waters. It was now night, and though the boys tried not
to show their nervousness, they did not succeed very well.
It was one thing to be out in their boat all night on a lake or river.
They knew in a case like that they were in no immediate danger. But
out on the ocean after dark, in a small craft, and not knowing their
position, was a more serious proposition. Besides, there seemed to be
something “scary” in the mere thought of the vastness of the sea, the
great depths, the monsters that inhabited it, and the great waves that
the wind could raise in a short time.
“Let’s put down the curtains,” suggested the sailor. “We want all the
shelter we can get, for it will be chilly by morning.”
“Do you think we’ll be out here all night?” asked Ned.
“Likely to. We came a good ways behind Mr. Whale, and we haven’t gone
back very far.”
With the curtains down, and a couple of lanterns lighted inside, the
_Dartaway’s_ interior was a cosy enough place. Bob insisted on getting
another meal, in spite of the fact that one had been served not so long
ago.
“That wasn’t a regular supper,” he declared. “This is,” and he started
the gasolene stove.
“We must set a watch,” said Sam. “Have to take turns steering. There
are four of us, and we’d better make it in two shifts. Jerry and I will
take the first one.”
Ned and Bob declared they didn’t feel like taking the time to sleep
before their watch was called, as the novelty of the night at sea was
too much for them. So they reclined on the bunks, talking, while Sam
went to the wheel, and Jerry looked after the engine.
A little wind had sprung up and the sea was heaving more than at any
time since the strange cruise began. Still the _Dartaway_ was not in
trouble. She slid over the waves like a duck, and made good time,
though it was guess work steering her.
They had been cruising in the teeth of the wind for about an hour, and
Ned and Bob were beginning to get a little sleep, in spite of their
desire to remain awake, when there came a curious sound from the engine.
It was a combined cough, wheeze and squeak, and Jerry who had been
leaning back, jumped up to look at the motor. As he did so it came to a
stop.
“What’s the trouble?” called Sam, from the wheel.
“Motor’s stuck, that’s all. I’ll fix it,” Jerry replied.