THE LUMBER RAFT
Let us go back and find out what really did become of Mark and Frank at
the time the _Vendee_ was struck in the darkness of the storm by the
Dutch lumber vessel.
As the French steamer listed to port the chums caught at the railing
before them. But this was wet and slippery and in an instant Frank
found himself over the side.
“Help!” he screamed, but the cry was drowned out in the roar of the
elements around him. Mark made a clutch at him, but he, too, was
carried overboard.
With clasped hands the two boys struck the water and went down and
down, they knew not whither. The accident had occurred so quickly
that both were completely bewildered, and it was purely by instinct
that each closed his mouth to keep out the briny element. The waves
leaped and foamed all around them, and Mark felt something scrape his
shoulder, he could not tell what, although long after he concluded it
must have been the side of the steamer.
Just what occurred during the five minutes that followed it would be
hard to describe. The boys clung to each other, bound to live or die
together. Even in that awful moment the thought of separating was still
more terrifying. Occasionally they saw a light, but soon these were
lost to view, and they found themselves in the blackness of the night,
alone.
“Frank, are you--you alive?” Such were the first words spoken between
the pair.
“Ye--yes,” came with a gasp. “Ho--how are we going to get back to
the--the steamer?”
“I don’t know. I can’t see the vessel anywhere, can you?”
As the waves carried them upward they gazed around eagerly. Not a light
was anywhere.
“The steamer has gone on--we are deserted!” cried Mark, and his heart
sank like a lump of lead in his bosom.
“Oh, don’t say that,” returned Frank. “Surely, they won’t leave us to
drown!”
A period of silence ensued. Then Frank felt something sheer up
alongside of him. He put out a hand and felt a stick of wood--one
washed overboard from the lumber craft.
“A log!” he cried. “Catch hold, Mark!”
Mark was willing enough and they caught hold of the log, to find that
it was fastened with a short chain to a number of other logs. Not
without difficulty they crawled to the top of the crude raft.
“Where did this come from?” queried Frank. “Do you suppose they threw
it overboard for us?”
“Perhaps, although I never saw such a life raft on the _Vendee_--if
it is a life raft. It looks more to me like some washed-away lumber.
Perhaps we struck another ship--in fact, I am almost sure we did. If
she was a lumber craft, this must be from her.”
Another spell of silence ensued, during which both strained their eyes
to see through the driving storm. Nothing but the waves met their gaze,
carrying them upward at one moment as if to the top of a high hill, and
then letting them sink and sink into a hollow until it looked as if
they should never rise again.
It was a time never to be forgotten, and each boy breathed a silent
prayer that he might be brought through this great peril in safety.
Thus the minutes slipped by, until suddenly Mark gave a cry.
“A light! A sky-rocket!”
He was right, from a great distance they saw the rocket from the lumber
vessel flare out through the storm. Then followed a brightness lower
down, but this Bengal light was not so distinct.
“Can it be the steamer in distress?” they asked each other.
“Looks as if something was on fire,” said Mark. He tried to stand up on
the lumber, Frank in the meantime holding him fast by the ankles. But
now the raft went into a hollow, and when it came up again the light
was gone.
Slowly the hours went by and the storm gradually subsided. The boys
found that the chain was fastened tightly around the lumber and they
clung to this and waited for daybreak. They did not mind being wet to
the skin, for the night was warm, but each was thoroughly exhausted by
his struggles.
At last came the light, low down in the east, and gradually the day
came over the rim of the sea--dull and heavy and bringing little of
cheer. Both stood up and gazed around eagerly.
Not a sail of any kind in sight.
It was a trying moment, and both had hard work to command their
feelings. Here they were, cast away on the broad bosom of the Caribbean
Sea, miles from land, and with no ship to pick them up.
“And nothing to eat or to drink,” said Frank. “Oh, Mark, what shall we
do?”
“I’m sure I don’t know, Frank. All we can do is to remain on this pile
of lumber and trust to luck.”
“We’ll die of hunger and thirst. I’m thirsty already.”
“So am I, but we had better not think of that.”
As the day grew a little brighter they continued to watch for the ship.
Once Mark thought he saw a vessel far to the eastward, but he was not
sure. An hour after this Frank gave a cry.
“Another raft, and somebody is on it!”
Frank was right, close at hand another raft was floating, and on top of
this lay the figure of a man, either dead or asleep.
“Hullo there!” cried Mark. “Hullo! Ahoy!”
At first the figure on the raft did not stir, but as the lumber came
closer the man sat up and gazed around wildly.
On catching sight of the two boys he gave a faint cry in a language
that was strange to them.
“He must be a castaway like ourselves,” said Mark.
“See, he is motioning to us with a rope,” said Frank. “He is going to
throw us one end.”
The end of the rope was thrown not once, but three times before they
could catch it. Then they drew the other raft toward them and lashed
the two heaps of lumber together. Thus united, the piles made a raft of
considerable size.
The man who had thus strangely joined them was evidently a sailor and
he was suffering from an ugly wound on the shoulder. At first he said
but little, but at last they made out that his name was Sven Orlaff and
that he was a Norwegian.
“I be on da Dutch boat, _Christiana_,” he said, in broken English. “Da
boat strike da steamer an’ I got by da vater in. So you go, too?”
“Yes, we were on the steamer,” answered Mark. “Have you any idea where
the steamer or the Dutch boat is?”
At this question Sven Orlaff shook his head. “Lose da boat--so dark,”
he said. “My shouler much hurt--I sick, fall da vater in and must swim
to da lumber. No see da boat vonce more.”
“We’re in a tough situation,” put in Frank, and heaved a sigh. “Are we
anywhere near to land?”
At this Sven Orlaff shook his head again. “No land near dis blace,” he
said. “No much boats here.”
“No land and very few ships,” said Mark. “Frank, it is certainly a
dismal outlook.”
They saw that the Norwegian’s shoulder needed to be bound up and went
at the work without delay, tearing the sleeves from their shirts for
this purpose. He was thankful, and told them so in his own peculiar way.
The work had scarcely been accomplished when something odd happened.
Frank had allowed an end of the rope to trail behind the raft. Now the
rope was seized by some kind of a fish who swallowed the knot. Like
a flash the Norwegian sailor pulled in the rope, landed the fish and
smashed its head with his heel.
“Make to eat,” he explained. “I hungry.”
“Why, of course,” cried Mark. “I’m hungry myself. I wonder if we can’t
catch more of them?”
For answer the sailor pulled a stout fishline from his pocket, and
also a knife. With the knife he cut off a portion of the fish’s tail
for bait.
“Give it to me, I’ll do the fishing,” said Mark, for he did not want
the hurt man to use his wounded shoulder.
Luckily for them, fish were plentiful in that vicinity, and in a moment
he got a bite and landed another fish, weighing at least two pounds.
Then he tried again and again, and soon had a mess of a dozen.
“We shall not starve to death, that’s sure,” said Frank, who had fixed
a place between the lumber for the catch. “I wish, Mark, you could
catch something else.”
“What’s that?”
“Water.”
“Don’t mention it. I am dry enough without thinking about it.”
All were dry, and as the day wore on their thirst increased until they
could hardly endure it.
There was small danger of the lumber blazing up, with so much salt
water to extinguish a big fire, and so they cut slivers from some
boards and started a little fire on the top of several big timbers,
using a match from Mark’s water-tight safe for that purpose. Soon they
had a fairly good blaze going and over this they cooked their fish, or
rather, half cooked and half burnt it, for the operation proved far
from satisfactory. But even such a meal was better than if the fish had
been raw.
By the time they had eaten their fill it began to cloud up once more
and soon it was raining steadily. They lost no time in spreading their
garments to catch the water and soon each had as much as he wished to
drink. The rain lasted about two hours, then cleared away quickly, and
toward the middle of the afternoon the sun came out.
As the light kept growing Mark stood up and looked around them once
more. Then he gave a cry:
“A ship! A ship!”