THE DOOMED SHIP
As Ira Small had predicted, the storm came up rapidly, and by sundown
the sky was heavily overcast and the wind was blowing freely. Then
came a shower of rain, the wind sweeping it furiously into the faces
of those on the yacht as they moved around, trying to get together
whatever they thought might be of benefit if they had to take again to
the wreckage.
Jack, Randy and the old sailor had worked on the wreckage for over an
hour, lashing the timbers together with half a dozen ropes and building
a small platform in the center so that they might rest more comfortably
than they had before.
“If only we would strike land!” sighed Andy, who, like Small, was now
limping around despite the fact that his ankle was still swollen.
By midnight the storm was on them in all its fury. The _Coryanda_
pitched and tossed in the darkness, the wreckage at her side banging
and pounding at every rise and fall of the waves.
“Gee, maybe that raft will knock a hole in our side!” said Fred.
“Well, I don’t know what to do about it, and neither does Small,”
answered Jack. “We can’t afford to cut it loose, and it might be too
dangerous to try to tow it; the line might snap, and then we’d have
nothing to take to if the yacht went down.”
“It’s too bad if we all go down,” murmured Ira Small, mournfully. “I
always did hope I’d live long enough to find them thirteen rocks an’
git a chance to hunt for that pirates’ gold.”
The wind had been rising steadily until now it was blowing with
hurricane proportions. The boys and the old tar did what they could
to steer the yacht so that she might head up to the waves. But the
water-logged condition of the craft was against her, and often they hit
a mountain of water with a resounding crash that threatened to smash
all the timbers beneath them.
“I don’t see how the vessel can stand much more of this,” declared
Randy, after a crash that had all but sent them sprawling.
“We’ve got to take what comes, and that is all there is to it,”
answered Jack, trying to put on a brave front for the benefit of his
cousins. “If she starts to go down, all we can do is to make a rush for
the raft.”
About two o’clock in the morning they made the discovery that the
_Coryanda_ was slowly but surely settling. The force of the elements
had torn away one corner of the two tarpaulins lashed over the hole at
the bow, and into this the waves kept pouring whenever they hit.
“Can’t we stop that hole?” asked Fred.
“No, no, lad! Don’t try it!” warned the old sailor. “You’d be swept off
by a wave before you knew what hit you. Stay where you are, and when
she gits too low I’ll let you know and we kin take to the raft.”
Another half hour passed, and then without warning came a resounding
crash on the keel of the _Coryanda_. The vessel seemed to slide along
on something and then slid off again into deep water.
“Gracious! what was that?” gasped Andy, in new alarm.
“We struck a key, I think,” answered Ira Small. “An’ if so, we must be
somewhere near land. You know, the West Indies are full of keys of all
kinds.”
They had the ship’s lanterns lit, and now tried to pierce the darkness
ahead with the searchlight. But this hand instrument was too feeble to
show them anything. Then came another crash from underneath the steam
yacht, and there followed a wild roaring, screaming and chattering
from the wild beasts and parrots below decks.
“Sounds as if something had broken loose down there!” exclaimed Fred.
“Gee, if they come up here, we sure will be in a pickle!”
“I don’t see how they can break out on deck with all those doors and
hatchways shut tight,” answered Jack. Everything had been closed with
care to keep out the elements. Only the door to the cabin was open, so
that they might enter from time to time to shelter themselves from the
fury of the hurricane.
One crash now succeeded another on the bottom of the steam yacht as
the vessel was driven furiously forward by the force of the wind. The
roaring, screaming and chattering below continued, showing that the
wild beasts and birds were in great terror and doing their best to gain
their liberty.
“We’re certainly among some keys,” said the lanky sailor. “But of
course, lads, you got to remember they may not be above water. There’s
thousands of places down in the West Indies where the keys are all
beneath the surface of the ocean. If we―――― Gosh! that’s the time we
struck a big one!”
There had been a tremendous crash, followed almost immediately by a
bump, and then another bump. The _Coryanda_ was thrown so far over
that every one on board lost his balance and went sliding down almost
into the water. Then the doomed ship veered around in the wind, and,
carried by a mighty wave, swept forward to crash again and again in the
darkness.
“I reckon she’s goin’ to pieces!” cried out Ira Small. “We’d better try
for the raft if we kin make it. Be careful, everybody, or somebody’ll
git drowned!”
As well as they could in the darkness, the boys, led by Jack, crept
down to the rail where the raft was lashed fast. They were just going
overboard when there came another mighty crash that threw every one of
them off his balance.
Some struck the rail, but Randy and Fred were hurled clear into the
boiling sea. Randy went down several feet, and so did his cousin.
Blindly each of them struck out and soon reappeared on the top of a
wave.
“Is that you, Fred?” spluttered Randy, as soon as he could speak.
“Yes. Where are the others? Did they go overboard?”
“I don’t know. Come on――let’s try to get on the raft.”
Both raft and yacht were but a short distance away, the lights of the
latter showed dimly through the flying mist of the storm. Bravely the
two Rover boys endeavored to reach the raft. But before they could move
more than a dozen feet the storm carried both boat and raft out of
their sight in the darkness.
“They’re gone!” gasped Fred. “The ship and the raft are gone!”
The thought filled the two boys with agony, and yet instinctively they
kept swimming, hoping almost against hope that something would come to
save them. All around were the mountainous waves, but presently they
made out a line of foam which proved to them that some sort of shore
must be close at hand.
“See the foam, Fred!” gasped his cousin. “Come on――let’s make for it!”
It was a struggle that neither of the lads ever forgot. Time and again
they reached shallow water only to be sucked back by the receding waves.
“I don’t think――I――can――make it!” gasped Fred. “Oh, the――storm is
something――awful!”
Randy was equally exhausted, and almost as hopeless. Yet almost
instinctively the two lads continued to struggle, and presently an
extra high wave hurled them forward until their feet touched a sandy
shore. Then, before the water could recede, they struggled onward
desperately, and at last reached a spot where the waves could no
longer touch them. Then they sank down, completely exhausted.
In the meanwhile the others on the doomed steam yacht had managed to
get down on the raft. They carried their firearms and an ax and a
hatchet with them, and now Ira Small ordered that the hawsers which
held the raft to the yacht be cut.
“But where are Fred and Randy?” questioned Jack, anxiously.
“They went into the water. They must be somewhere around here,”
answered Andy. “Hold up the light so they can see it.”
The raft was now freed from the steam yacht, but the force of the wind
still kept the two together. Then the yacht struck again, and the force
of the collision tipped the raft up so that those aboard were nearly
spilled off into the sea.
“Randy! Fred! Where are you?” yelled Andy. The possibility of his twin
brother and his cousin being drowned filled him with agony.
“Look out, there! Something is comin’ down from the deck!” yelled Ira
Small, suddenly. “Lay low! Them beasts is gettin’ loose!”
They could see but little, for the force of the shocks had put out
nearly every light aboard the yacht and on the raft. But they could
hear a continual roaring and snarling, and now some of these sounds
seemed to come closer. Then, of a sudden, tawny bodies loomed up near
the yacht’s rail.
“It’s a lion! Two of them!” yelled Jack.
“Yes, and they’re getting ready to jump down here!” answered Andy.