CAUGHT IN A STORM
"Who is there?"
"Captain Marshall, can I speak to you a moment?"
"Oh, so it is you, Porter! What do you want?"
"There seems to be a big storm coming up, and I thought I had better
tell you about it."
"Why--er--isn't Mr. Shepley on deck?"
"Yes, sir--but I thought I had better tell you, anyway," went on Dave.
"Mr. Shepley knows what to do," answered the captain, rather shortly. He
did not fancy having his much-needed nap disturbed.
"I suppose that is true, sir--but some of the sailors are getting very
anxious. I don't care to mention their names, but they think some sail
ought to be taken in."
The master of the _Stormy Petrel_ arose and stretched himself. Then he
put on the shoes he had dropped on lying down, and came out into the
cabin. He gave one look at the barometer and his sleepiness vanished.
"I should say there was a storm coming!" he exclaimed, and ran for the
companionway. He was soon on deck, and cast an anxious eye around.
"Mr. Shepley, why haven't you shortened sail?" he demanded, in a low but
sharp voice.
"I didn't think it necessary, just yet," was the cool response.
"I don't agree with you," returned the master of the bark, shortly, and
then, without delay, gave orders to take in fully half the sails, while
the crew were ordered to remain in readiness to stow away still more of
the canvas at a moment's notice. The sailors, for the most part, worked
with a will, although there were several laggards, for laziness among
certain classes of men is not confined to the land alone.
Captain Marshall was angry, and he did not hesitate to let the first
mate know it.
"There is no sense in taking too many risks," he remarked, after his
orders had been obeyed. "That storm is coming, as sure as fate."
"I wanted to make as much headway as possible before it struck us,"
grumbled Shepley. "We haven't suffered any."
"No, but we might have lost a topmast or a topsail. After this, you will
please be a little more careful."
There was no time to argue the matter, for a little later the storm
began in earnest. All of the sails were taken in but the fore sheet, and
this was reefed down, allowing just enough canvas to fly to keep the
bark before the wind. The breeze was turning to half a gale, and from a
distance came the rumble of thunder. Then the sky grew still blacker and
a flash of lightning illuminated the angry waters.
Dave had followed Captain Marshall on deck, but now he went below once
more, to learn how Phil and Roger were faring. He found them both out in
the cabin, having come from their staterooms in alarm.
"Is it very bad outside?" questioned the senator's son.
"Not yet, but I am afraid it is going to be," was Dave's reply.
"Phew, that certainly means business!" burst out Roger, as another flash
of lightning was followed by a heavy peal of thunder. "I hope the ship
weathers it all right."
"Captain Marshall is on deck, and he knows what he is doing," answered
Dave. "I am glad I called him up," he added.
"Oh, so you called him up, did you?" came in a voice from the cabin
doorway, and, turning, Dave beheld Paul Shepley there. The mate had come
below to get his raincoat.
"Yes, I did," answered the country boy, boldly. Now that the truth was
out, he did not mean to mince matters.
"Thought you knew more about running a ship than I did, eh?"
"I thought it was time to take in sail--and so did the captain."
"Humph! This blow isn't going to kill anybody, and we want to take all
the advantage of the wind that we can. We are expected to make a quick
trip, but we can't do it if we are going to haul down sail all the
time."
"I am sure Captain Marshall will do what is right," said Phil.
"Really?" sneered the mate. "I didn't ask you to put in your oar."
"I know you didn't--but my father owns the vessel, and I shall stand by
Captain Marshall and by my friend, Dave Porter."
"Oh, so it's something of a plot against me, eh?" snorted the mate, more
angry than ever. "Well, don't let it go too far." And he turned into his
own room, banging the door after him. A minute later he came out,
wearing his raincoat, and hurried out on deck once more.
"He's a real nice man, I don't think," was Roger's comment. "My, how he
would lord it over us, if he dared!"
"He is certainly sore," said Phil. "I must say, in a way, he and the
supercargo are a team. When I get a chance, I am going to write to
father and let him know exactly the sort of fellows they are."
The boys felt little like discussing the subject further just then, for
the storm had now burst over the vessel in all of its mad fury. The wind
was whistling through the rigging, making the masts and yards creak and
groan, and the rain came down in sheets, sweeping the decks by the
bucketful. It was with difficulty that the _Stormy Petrel_ could be kept
before the wind. The waves were running like so many big hills, with the
bark first on a crest and then down in a valley between. The sky was
almost black, lit up occasionally by flashes of lightning that were
blinding.
"We'll go to the bottom, sure!" groaned Roger, for at least the tenth
time. "I'd rather be at Oak Hall any day than in such a storm as this."
He was still seasick, but the storm made him forget the ailment for the
time being; and what was true of the senator's son in this regard was
likewise true of Phil.
"I think I'll take another look on deck," said Dave, as the bark gave a
pitch that sent them all against a partition.
"Take care that you don't fall overboard," returned Phil.
"I'll be on my guard, never fear."
Putting on his raincoat, the country boy made his way cautiously up the
companionway. The moment he stuck his head into the open he realized
that it was blowing "great guns," and more. The rain dashed violently
into his face, drenching him completely.
"This is no place for you, lad!" bellowed Captain Marshall, trying to
make himself heard above the wind. "Better go below again."
"I'll be careful," pleaded Dave. "I love to watch a storm--I always did,
when I was on the farm. I never thought of hiding, no matter how hard it
thundered or lightened."
The master of the bark gazed for a second at him in admiration.
"Well, I was the same," he said. "But be careful, and don't go close to
the rail."
[Illustration: Another flash lit up the scene.--_Page 179._]
Dave remained in the vicinity of the cabin. When another flash lit up
the scene, he saw Billy Dill near the bow, stowing away some rope in the
most unconcerned fashion possible. The old tar was in his element, and
said afterward that the storm had done him more good than gallons of
medicine would have accomplished. "Saterated me with salt brine, an'
thet's wot I needed," were his words.
"How do you like it, now?" asked Captain Marshall, coming up a little
later, while there was something of a lull.
"I don't mind it," answered Dave, smiling. "It's a little excitement,
and that is what I like."
"I am thankful that you called me when you did."
"I did what I thought was best, sir. But I reckon it has put me into a
hole with your first mate."
"Why, did you tell him anything?"
"No, but he overheard me telling the other boys that I had called you.
He didn't say much, but he showed that he was angry."
"Humph! Well, don't you mind, Porter. It was the right thing to do.
Shepley is a good sailor, but once in a while he takes risks that I
don't like. If he troubles you about this, let me know, do you hear?"
"Yes, sir; but I am willing to fight my own battles."
"I don't doubt it, for you are gritty, I can see that. Nevertheless, you
let me know."
"How long do you suppose this storm will last?"
"There is no telling, perhaps twenty-four hours and maybe two or three
days. We are paying up for that nice weather we had," concluded the
captain.
Finding he could do nothing on deck, and that he was getting wet
through, Dave went below and to his stateroom. He found Roger and Phil
lying down as before, and as miserable as ever. A little later supper
was announced, but Dave had to eat alone, for neither the captain nor
the mate came to join in the repast. It was a meal under difficulties,
and Dave did not remain at the table long. He asked Roger and Phil if
they wanted anything, but both declined.
"Why, the very idea of anything to eat makes me sicker than ever,"
declared the senator's son.
The storm did not abate during the evening, and the three boys spent
rather a dismal time of it in the cabin and the staterooms. As night
came on, none of them felt like going to bed, although advised to do so
by Captain Marshall.
"We have seen the worst of the blow," said the master of the _Stormy
Petrel_, coming down about ten o'clock.
It was not until morning that Dave fell into a troubled doze, from which
he did not awaken until Roger shook him.
"Hello! I went to sleep, after all!" cried the country boy. "What time
is it?"
"About seven o'clock, Dave. There is something unusual going on on
deck," continued the senator's son.
"What is it?"
"I don't know, but I am going up to see, and so is Phil."
The three were soon ready, and crawled up the companionway and out on
the rain-drenched and slippery deck.
"We must man the pumps," they heard Captain Marshall cry. "And, Scader,
report as soon as you can."
"Aye, aye, sir!" came from Scader, who was the ship's carpenter. "But I
am afraid, sir, it's a bad leak to get at," he added.
"Have we sprung a leak?" cried Phil.
"We have," answered the captain. His face wore a serious look, and the
boys saw that he was much troubled.
The sailors were at the pumps, and worked away with a will. Roger and
Phil still felt too weak to take part, but Dave leaped to Billy Dill's
side and worked as hard as any of the foremast hands. Leaving the ship
in charge of the first mate, Captain Marshall went below, to learn what
the ship's carpenter might have to say about the condition of affairs.
"We are bringing up a good deal of water, are we not?" asked Dave of
Billy Dill.
"You have it right, lad; more water nor I care to see," answered the old
tar.
"That means the leak is a bad one, eh?"
"Yes, some of the ship's seams must be wide open."
"Will it sink us?"
"I can't tell anything more about that than you, Dave. We must hope for
the best," replied Billy Dill.