THE DERELICT
The wind freshened after they reached shelter and it blew very hard. For
a time Frank found sleep impossible, though he was glad to lie snug in
the warm cabin with the lamp burning above him and the stove snapping
cheerfully. The sloop lurched and rocked, drawing her chain tight now
and then with a bang, while a muffled uproar went on outside her. Frank
could distinguish the angry splash of water upon her bows and the
drumming and rapping of loose ropes against the mast, though these
sounds were partly drowned by the furious clamor of the ground sea
beyond the point and a great deep-toned roaring made, he supposed, by
long ranks of thrashing trees. Once or twice, when Jake, who crawled out
to see if the anchor was holding, left the slide open, the sound filled
the cabin with tremendous pulsating harmonies.
Besides this, the boy's face smarted after the lashing of icy spray, and
he wondered whether Mr. Barclay's plans were working out successfully
and what fresh adventures awaited Harry and himself on the morrow, all
of which was sufficient to keep him in a state of restless expectation.
He envied his companion who presently went to sleep, but it was toward
morning when at last his own eyelids closed and he got a few snatches of
fitful slumber broken by fantastic dreams. He was awakened by a chill
upon his face, and looking around saw that Jake had gone out again into
the well. The roar of the wind did not seem so overwhelming as it had
been, though there was no doubt that it was still blowing hard. By and
by Jake called out.
"You'd better get up," he said. "I've a notion that there's somebody
hailing us."
Frank crawled out shivering, with Harry grumbling half asleep behind
him, and when he stood in the well found he could see a hazy loom of
trees across the little white waves that came splashing toward the boat.
They made a sharp, rippling sound, pitched in a different tone from the
din that rose all around. The latter swelled and sank, and he was
slightly surprised when he was able to hear what seemed to be a faint
shout. It rose again more clearly, and there was no longer any doubt
that somebody on the beach was hailing them.
"Can we get ashore?" he asked.
"You'll have to try," said Jake. "The man's to windward of us, and it
will be a stiff paddle, but if you can't manage it you'll blow across to
the beach on the other side of the inlet safe enough and he may be able
to get round to you. Anyway, I don't want to leave the sloop. She'd have
picked up her anchor once or twice if I hadn't given her more cable."
"What time is it?" Harry inquired.
"About seven o'clock," Jake answered. "We'll have daylight soon after
you're back."
They hauled up the canoe and were not surprised to find that she was
full of water. It took them some time to bail her out, and Frank felt
anxious when at last they pushed her clear of the sloop. It was
difficult to tell how far off the beach was, and for the first few
moments they could make no progress against the blast. Then they won a
yard or two in a partial lull, and after that for a while barely held
their own by determined paddling. Thick rain drove into their faces and
the spray from the bows and splashing blades blew over them. Frank was
breathless when they reached the beach, and it cost him an effort to
scramble over the uneven stones as far as the edge of the bush, where a
shadowy figure stood beside a horse. Its head drooped and even in the
darkness, which was not very deep, its attitude was suggestive of
exhaustion. The man was dimly visible, and they felt sure that he was
the messenger they expected.
"You're here on Barclay's business?" he said.
"Yes," said Harry. "Have you a message for him?"
The man fumbled in his pocket and took out an envelope.
"That's from the boss. I guess it will explain the thing, but he said
I'd better let you know that we'd had trouble."
"Then you didn't get the dope men?"
"We corralled three of them; the rest broke away. One of the boys got a
bullet in him and he's been lying in the rain all night. I don't know
how we're going to pack him out."
"Things went wrong?" said Frank.
"They did," the man assented. "One of the boys got his pistol off by
accident just after the boat had come ashore, and that gave our plans
away. The boat's crew shoved off and several men who'd been landed broke
through in the dark. Anyhow, when the trouble was over we'd got one case
of dope, two whites of no account, and a Chinaman."
"And the schooner?"
"She was heading out to sea with mighty little sail on her when I left.
You'll be able to take word through to Barclay?"
"I don't know," Harry answered dubiously. "It's too dark to tell what
the sea's like now. I suppose there's no other means of warning him?"
"No," said the man. "Even if I could get a message on to the wire they
wouldn't be able to deliver it at the other end, but he has to be warned
somehow."
"If you'll come off we'll give you breakfast. It should be light enough
to see what the weather's like by the time you had finished," Harry
suggested.
"It can't be done," was the answer. "I've to go on for a doctor and
raise a crowd to run those fellows down. I've already stayed longer than
I should."
"Your horse is played out," Frank objected.
"I'll hire another. There's a ranch somewhere ahead. I'll say you have
taken that message."
"We'll do it if it's any way possible," said Harry.
The man turned away without another word and they heard him stumbling
through the wood beside his horse until the roar of the wind drowned the
sound, after which they went back to the canoe. They had no trouble in
reaching the sloop, for they were driven down upon her furiously, and on
clambering on board they found that Jake had breakfast ready.
It was daylight when they crawled out of the cabin after the meal, but
the sky was hidden by low-flying vapor, and gazing seaward they could
see only a short stretch of big leader combers which rolled up out of
the haze crested with livid froth. Jake shook his head doubtfully at
Harry.
"You'll have to stop a while," he said. "She wouldn't run for half an
hour before that sea. We couldn't start till after dinner if the wind
dropped right now, but it's falling and we might get away in the
afternoon."
The morning dragged by while the boys chafed at the delay, though they
had no doubt that Jake was right and neither of them felt any keen
desire to face the sea that was tumbling in from the Pacific. Still, the
roar of the wind steadily diminished and the sloop rode more easily, and
at length Jake offered to make the venture after they had had a meal.
They lashed three reefs down before they started, leaving only a small
triangular strip of mainsail set, but that proved quite enough, and
during the first few minutes Frank felt almost appalled as he glanced at
the great gray combers that heaved themselves up astern. Most of them
were hollow breasted, and their tops curled over, flinging up long wisps
of foam and roaring ominously. As a rule they broke, divided, on either
side of the boat, piling up in a snowy welter high about her shrouds,
but now and then one seemed to break all over her and most of her deck
was lost in a furious rush of water. Twice the canoe, which was too big
to stow on deck, charged up and struck her with a resounding crash, and
then broke adrift and disappeared.
By degrees, however, Frank's uneasiness diminished. Somewhat to his
astonishment, the light and buoyant craft stood the buffeting, and by
the time dusk fell the seas were getting smaller. Still, they were big
enough, and the boat appeared to be driving before them at an
extraordinary speed. By eight o'clock in the evening they had shaken out
one reef, and soon afterward Frank lay down in the cabin, because Jake
said that he had no intention of entrusting either him or Harry with the
helm, which was on the whole a relief to both of them. To run a small
craft before a breaking sea in the dark is a very severe test of nerve,
and it is, perhaps, worse when the combers still come foaming after her
after the wind has somewhat fallen.
In spite of the violent motion Frank managed to sleep until he was
awakened some time after midnight by a shout from Jake. Crawling out,
partly dazed, with his eyes half open, he saw that the sky had cleared
and that a crescent moon was shining down. Then, close ahead of them, he
saw the schooner.
She was also running, for her stern was toward them, though for a moment
or two it was hidden by the white top of a sea, and Frank could only
make out the forward half of her sharply tilted deck. Her bowsprit and
two torn jibs above it were high in the air, and her black boom-foresail
all bunched up, with its gaff, which had swung down, jammed against the
foremast shrouds. She carried no after canvas, and the reason became
evident when, as her stern lurched up, Frank saw that her mainmast was
broken off short. She sank down again while a comber foamed high about
her rail, which was shattered on one quarter where the falling mast had
struck, and a mass of canvas and tangled gear trailed in the sea beneath
it. What struck the boy most, however, was the erratic manner in which
she was progressing, for her bows swung up to windward every now and
then until all her side was visible and she lumbered off at angle to her
course and then came lurching back again. She was herringboning, as it
is called at sea, in an extraordinary fashion, and she seemed low in the
water.
In the meanwhile the sloop was coming up with her fast and Jake stood up
at the tiller to see more clearly.
"They've been in trouble, sure," he said. "I could tell there was nobody
at her helm when I first saw her and that's why I ran up so close. Ease
the peak down, one of you; I don't want to run by until we've had a look
at her."
Harry did so, and as they stood watching her the schooner slued round
until she was almost beam to wind. The sea streamed down her weather
side, which rose up like a wall, and Frank could see her wheel behind
the low deckhouse jerking to and fro. There was no sign of life anywhere
on board her.
"Deserted!" Jake said shortly. "They must have jibed her and smashed her
mainmast. She seems a smart vessel. Seems to me she ought to fetch a
good many dollars."
The sloop was sailing more slowly now with her peak swung down, keeping
pace with the schooner but a little behind her, and the boys gazed hard
at Jake. His rugged face looked very thoughtful in the moonlight.
"It's a fair wind to the islands and she'd come up until it was abeam
with the foresail set if it was necessary," he said. "It wouldn't be
much trouble to sail her in and she could be beached somewhere in smooth
water. Anyhow, I'd like to get on board her."
"If you ran up close alongside when she screws to windward one of us
could jump," Harry suggested eagerly. "There's a raffle of ropes over
her quarter."
Jake seemed dubious. "It might be done and Barclay would be uncommonly
glad to get his hands on her, but I can't leave the sloop. Somebody has
to take that message."
"Put us on board," urged Harry. "How far is it to the islands?"
"With this wind and the whole sail on her she ought to fetch them by
daylight." Then Jake seemed to hesitate. "Looks as if there was water in
her, but one could wear her round and fetch the land to southward if she
was leaking very bad."
The boys looked at each other and the same impulse seized upon both of
them. This was an adventure such as they had never dreamed of, and with
a fair wind they would only have to keep the vessel running until they
picked up the land. It would not be difficult, for she was under very
easy sail, and the only hazard would be in the attempt to get on board
her. Then Harry jumped forward and hauled up the peak.
"Run alongside as quick as you can," he said.
Jake put down his helm a little, and the boys stood up on the weather
deck with tense, set faces as the sloop crept in under the schooner's
lea. The latter slued to windward while the spray flew over her, rolling
until her deck on the side nearest them was level with the sea, and then
fell off again and sluggishly heaved her bows high above the foam. This
herringboning was the danger, since it would need nerve and skill to get
near her without wrecking the sloop. A blow from the big lurching hull
would probably send her to the bottom.
Frank felt himself quivering all through as they closed with the
derelict yard by yard, until when she once more lumbered round to
windward Jake put down his helm a little farther. The sloop shot in
beneath the black hull, which broke the sea and partly sheltered her,
but as she swept forward amidst a long wash of foam Frank's courage
ebbed away from him. A great white swell lapped about the wall of wet
planking close in front of him, and the top of it was higher than his
head. It seemed impossible that he could spring out from the lurching
sloop and by any means clamber up. All his senses shrank from the
dangerous task, but with a determined effort he braced himself. If Harry
made the attempt he would do it, too, and he clenched his hands and set
his lips as the schooner's side came sinking down.
"Don't jump unless you are sure you can reach her!" shouted Jake.
They were now scarcely a fathom from the trailing wreckage, and the
schooner's rail was dipping lower. It seemed just possible to clutch it
by a desperate leap, and the next moment Harry launched himself out into
the air. Frank followed, struck the wet planking, and seizing a trailing
rope held on by it with his legs in the sea. Then he dragged himself up
clear of the water, and Harry, who was kneeling in the opening in the
broken rail, reached down to him.
Frank clutched his hand, and in a few more seconds was almost astonished
to find himself, breathless and dripping, safe upon the schooner's deck.
A glance showed him the sloop abreast of her quarter and about a dozen
yards away.
"Jake did that mighty smartly," Harry gasped. "I'll get to the wheel
while you look around her."