IT was late that night before the voyagers dropped into uneasy slumber.
The wonder of their situation, suddenly brought home to them, had
roused them all to unusual volubility. In the excitement consequent on
the discovery of the massed wrecks even Jackson forgot his suspicions,
and the three talked together freely. Howard had promised that they
should join the wrecks, and they had done so. Now he would have a
chance to keep his other promise to get them out; in the first flush of
arrival they did not doubt that he would do so.
But Jackson, at least, changed his opinion the next morning when he
came on deck and viewed the scene before him.
During the night the Queen, drawn by the same natural attraction
that holds the planets in their sphere and brings floating chips
together in a basin, had taken its place with the dead ships. Under
her counter lay a water-logged schooner; beside her rubbed a dismasted
sailing-ship; over her submerged bow hung a tramp steamer, whose
blackened masts, bare of cordage, gave evidence of the flames that had
ravaged her. Beyond, stretched a mass of wreckage, ship pressing upon
ship, in an endless iteration of ruin. Only to the west the view was
open, and there stretched the weed in slimy convolutions.
Over all screamed the sea-birds.
Each of these countless wrecks had once sailed the sea, new and strong,
and each had come here at last to slumber peacefully until the deep
should open and receive it. No more would they ride out the hurricane
or take with frolic welcome the buffetings of the waves; no more would
they visit the great ports of men and groan beneath the heavy cargoes
placed upon them. Their days of turmoil were over. Here, in this quiet
haven, in the great calm of the tropics, with only the faintest
breezes to whisper into their ears tales of the open sea, and with the
birds to nest in their deserted rigging, they dreamed their old age
away.
To Dorothy the sight was solemn, but not sad; to Howard it was amazing;
to Jackson it was maddening.
Less than ever did he believe that he was hopelessly trapped far out on
the ocean; more than ever was he convinced that Howard was deceiving
him for his own ends. He saw the ships rocking gently on the swells,
noted white patches of sails showing here and there, heard the cries of
the gulls, and told himself afresh that he could easily walk ashore if
he only knew how; and when a flock of parrots lighted in the rigging
and demanded crackers, and a monkey poised on the end of a near-by mast
and gibbered, he was convinced beyond peradventure that Howard had
lied to them and was only watching his chance to desert them. He did
not even listen to that officer when he explained that both birds and
beasts must have drifted in on wrecks and had probably thriven.
“The birds will feed on the roaches on the old rattle-trap wrecks,” he
explained, “and the monkeys will live on the birds’ eggs. Perhaps, too,
both catch shell-fish in the weeds.”
Breakfast was a silent meal. Dorothy was awed and frightened by the
sight of the wrecks, and Jackson was glum. In vain Howard strove to
rouse them. Finally he gave up and finished his breakfast in silence.
Then he pushed away his plate.
“Listen to me, please,” he said coldly. “We have arrived at our
destination and must now take steps to help ourselves. Two things are
necessary: first, to explore the ships around us; second, not to get
lost. Make no mistake; the danger of this last is very great. These
ships will not look the same as we leave them and as we return to
them; where we climb down a ship’s side in going away, we must climb
up it in coming back, and _vice versa_. Often this may be difficult;
sometimes it may be impossible. Yet, if we try to vary our route, we
may lose ourselves; and once lost the chances are a thousand to one
against our ever finding our way back to the Queen again. Not that we
shall stay by the Queen long; probably we shall soon find some ship
better suited for a base of operations. But we must remember that this
continent of ships is a desert except around its edges. New wrecks
arriving will bring food and water, but a few hundred yards inside the
borders neither can remain. It may seem to you that it would be easy to
get back to the border again, but I assure you that it would not be.
Without a compass, we would not know which way to go, and might easily
be plunging deeper and deeper into the mass.”
He paused, waiting for comment, but none was made. He was leader,
however grudgingly so, and it was for him to map out their course of
action. No one dreamed of disputing it--Jackson, no less than Dorothy,
realized his helplessness and his ignorance.
“I beg you, therefore, to be very careful,” resumed Howard, seeing
that the others waited. “I am particularly insistent, because we
must explore first of all. To-day the danger is not great, because
we are not likely to get far away, but we might as well start right.
First, we must run up all the signal-flags we can find; they will be
conspicuous for a long ways off. Next, we must light a fire in the
galley range; its smoke will be visible still farther away. Third, we
must never go out of sight of our base--the Queen, at present--under
any circumstances; when we climb to each new ship we must look back and
make sure that we can still see the flags or the smoke. Fourth, we
must each carry a hatchet and mark our way just as a woodman blazes a
path through a forest; the hatchet will come in handy, anyhow. Later,
if we do not find what we want, we can shift our base to some other
vessel along the ‘coast,’ and explore farther with that as a new
center. Do I make myself clear?”
Dorothy nodded. “Shall we all go together?” she asked.
Howard shook his head. “No, I think not,” he answered gently. “I hope
you will be willing to stay here for the present and keep the galley
fire alight; I’ll show you how to make it smoke. Jackson and I will
do the exploring for to-day, anyway. He can go to the north along the
coast, and I will go to the south, and----”
“Not much!” The policeman was shaking his head doggedly. “Not much,
you don’t. I don’t leave you out of my sight. I’ve got my orders from
headquarters and----”
Howard stifled an exclamation. “Very well,” he said coldly. “As you
please! Perhaps it is better anyway. Two can do things that one could
not. Come! Let’s get ready.”
“But----” Dorothy looked very dubious.
Howard turned to her. “I know what you would say, Miss Fairfax. You
would like to go, of course. But, believe me, it is best not. Moving
about these wrecks will be difficult and even dangerous for any one
hampered by skirts. You would be exhausted very soon. Besides, we may
meet unpleasant sights. Later, when we know our ground better, we will
take you for a sight-seeing tour. You will be perfectly safe on the
Queen. You are not afraid to be left alone, are you?”
“Oh! No! It will be lonely, of course, but isn’t there some way that I
can signal to you if anything should happen?”
Howard considered a while; then plunged down into the vitals of the
Queen, returning shortly with a double armful of straw dug from a
hogshead once filled with crockery.
“There,” he said, dropping it at the entrance of the galley. “If
anything happens, wet some of that and put it on the fire; it will make
a thick black smoke. By alternately closing and opening the draft, you
can let it go up and cut it off altogether. We’ll watch for it.”
Howard and Jackson climbed down the Jacob’s-ladder that still swung
at the Queen’s counter, and dropped lightly to the deck of the
water-logged schooner that lay there. Of this, nothing but a few inches
of the deck and the stumps of the masts were above water; whatever
deck-houses there might have been had been carried away, together with
the entire rail. Consequently there was nothing to investigate, nothing
that could help the castaways in their efforts to escape, and the two
men crossed over her with merely a glance, using her as a bridge to
reach a ship floating high in the water just beyond.
The second vessel had a gangway lowered down her side, evidently to
help her passengers to reach the boats. Her masts were gone, but
otherwise she seemed intact.
“Crew and passengers taken off by another ship,” explained Howard,
“probably in fair weather after a storm. Most likely another storm was
brewing and the crew expected their own vessel to sink.”
A rapid search showed that the ship had nothing of value to offer. Her
boats were gone; her compasses, charts, chronometers, and sextants
all were gone. Some tools remained, but were so rusted as to be of
little value. Howard soon led the way to her taffrail, whence he could
clutch the shrouds of a full-rigged ship which had evidently been in a
collision.
As he stepped on the deck of this craft, there was a scurry of feet,
and a dozen huge rats bolted across the deck and disappeared under the
poop.
“Confound the brutes,” he muttered. “I hate them! Wonder what they have
been eating.”
The answer was not far to seek. Close beside the davits of the
quarter-boat lay two skeletons; one with a smooth, round hole drilled
through the fleshless skull, the other with a broken backbone. Howard
looked at them and nodded.
“Probably the crew made a rush for the boats,” he suggested.
“Somebody--one of the officers, I suppose--tried to stop them. He shot
one, but the others ran over him and broke his back. Then came the
rats. Well, it was a man’s death. If you can find a couple of bags,
Jackson, we will commit the bones to the sea.”
From the ship the two men descended to a steamer, much down by the
stern, with a gaping hole in her port counter, where something must
have driven deep into her vitals. From this they climbed upon a small
yacht, floating just awash. (“Held up by water-tight compartments,”
explained Howard.) Thence they passed to another vessel, and to
another, and another, each bearing mute record to the manner of its
ruin.
But on none did the explorers find what they sought. The boats were
invariably gone; the tools were always rusty; the compasses had all
been snatched from the binnacle and from the cabin; the charts had
mostly been torn from the racks and tables, often so roughly that the
thumb-tacks that had held their corners were left in the board, each
holding a triangular scrap of torn paper. In the few instances where
any did remain, they were rotten with mildew, and charted regions far
distant from the Sargasso Sea.
It was noon when Howard gave the word to return to the Queen. “Don’t
be downcast, Jackson,” he consoled. “What we have found to-day is only
what we had to expect. The boats would, of course, be taken, even if
everything else was left. The compasses, and charts, and sextants, and
so on, would naturally be taken next, for those who went in the boats
would need them to shape their course. The tools and engines would have
almost invariably been left exposed to the weather and would be badly
rusted. It would have been by mere chance had we found what we wanted
on the very first day. At least we have learned that there is plenty
of food and water and clothing and coal to be had for the taking.
To-morrow we will search in another direction. Now, let’s go home.”
But return was not so easy as the two men expected. As Howard had
foretold, there was an important difference between climbing up and
climbing down, and this difference was accentuated by the fact that in
leaving the Queen they had chosen the easiest route. When they could
have gone from one ship to any one of two or three others, they had
naturally moved to the one that appeared the least difficult of access.
Taking the route in reverse, this small detail of choice often meant
that they must return to the one that was the most difficult to board.
To this expected obstacle was added another that was unexpected. In
more than one instance they found that their morning route, as shown by
their blazed marks, was absolutely impracticable. The ships had moved,
slightly perhaps, but yet enough to bar their passage, ten feet of
water being often as impassable as ten hundred. Howard struck his brow
with his hand when he realized this.
“I was a fool not to foresee this!” he exclaimed. “Of course, these
ships are not absolutely stationary. Even far inside they must be
somewhat subject to currents and to winds, and must move slightly,
while here, on the outskirts, they must move considerably. As a matter
of fact, the whole mass must be swinging around and around in a vast
circle, moved by the same current that brought them here in the first
place. Well, we must simply abandon our blazes, and go home by the
flags and the smoke.”
Jackson peered into the distance. “I can’t see no flags,” he objected.
“Can’t you? I can, but they are undoubtedly hard to make out in this
mass of frayed cordage and flapping streamers. However, we can see the
smoke clearly enough, and must set our course by it.”
Ten minutes later the first accident of the day occurred. In stepping
from one ship to another, Jackson missed his footing, caught wildly at
a ratline, which broke in his grasp, and shot downward with a yell into
the water.
By the time he had risen to the surface, Howard, who had been a little
in advance, was back, peering down at him.
“Can you climb out?” he demanded. “No! I guess you can’t without help.
Hook your fingers into that port-hole--there, just behind you. That’s
right! Can you hang on for a while? It may take some time to find a
rope sound enough to bear your weight.”
Jackson clawed the weed from off his face. “Yes! I can hang on all
right,” he returned, savagely. Evidently his involuntary bath had
ruffled his temper. “I can swim, too,” he added.
Howard disappeared, and the policeman settled himself to wait. He had
learned to swim in the North River, and had no difficulty in keeping
afloat, even without the adventitious aid of the bull’s-eye in the
steamer’s side just above him. If he had fallen in almost anywhere else
he could have gotten out himself, but, as it chanced, this particular
bit of water was shut in by the sides of three ships, none of which
offered a foothold by which to climb. The bull’s-eye by which he hung
was the only orifice that broke the smoothness of the overhanging sides.
Time passed, however, and Howard did not return, and a vague uneasiness
began to work in the policeman’s mind. There were ropes everywhere.
Surely, it did not take so long to find one. He called, but received no
answer. Could Howard have lost the place? Or could some accident have
befallen him? Or, could--good God! Did the man mean to leave him to
drown?
The suggestion, once offered, would not down. It was, he told himself,
the very thing to be expected. With him out of the way, Howard would be
freed from the shadow of the gallows. He alone--except Miss Fairfax,
and what was a girl’s life--he alone knew that Howard had survived the
wreck of the Queen. With him dead, Howard--supposing that he could
regain dry land--could live out his life in safety. And what was a
policeman’s life to one whose hands were already stained with the blood
of his own wife?
Jackson drew a long breath as conviction forced itself upon him. It was
characteristic of the man that he did not whimper. He had been dealing
with criminals for twenty years, and conceded them the right to fight
for their own hand. He had always declared that he would take his dose
when it came without doing the baby act; and, by George, he would keep
his word.
Hope had vanished when Howard reappeared. In his hand was a boat’s
tackle, which he proceeded to hitch to a davit that projected over
Jackson’s head. But, instead of dropping down the other end, he quietly
seated himself on the bulwarks and stared thoughtfully at the man below.
“Well, Jackson,” he remarked, deliberately, “our positions seem to be
reversed.”
The policeman scowled. “Damn you, yes,” he responded, truculently.
An expression of admiration floated over Howard’s face. “By Jove,
Jackson!” he cried. “You’re all right. I didn’t think you had the nerve
to speak up like that under the circumstances. ‘What dam of lances
brought you forth to jest at the dawn with death?’ That’s from Kipling,
Jackson, if you do not recognize it.”
“G’wan. If you’re goin’ to murder me, do it. You’ve had experience, all
right.”
“Fie! fie! Jackson! Call things by their proper names. This wouldn’t
be any murder. But, there”--Howard’s voice grew stern--“enough of
this. I see you realize the situation. All I have to do is to leave
you where you are, and to-morrow I will be a free man. But I am not
going to do it; I am going to pull you up in a minute. But I want you
to realize that I have deliberately put aside the best chance possible
to free myself from your surveillance, and I want you to cease dogging
my footsteps and watching me everywhere I go. I don’t ask you to
let me escape or anything like that, but I do ask you to act on my
suggestions without any talk of not letting me out of your sight. Our
escape from this wreckage may any day depend on your prompt obedience,
and I want you to obey. In return, I reiterate my assertion--which you
did not believe--that I am even more anxious than you are to get back
to dry land; and in addition I promise you, on the word of an officer
and a gentleman, that if I do get back, you and Miss Fairfax shall go,
too. I will not desert you, even though I know you will arrest me the
moment you have force enough at hand to do it. Now, put your foot in
the hook on this block, and I’ll haul you up.”
Jackson caught the block that Howard dropped, and put his foot in it
mechanically. He was a slow thinker, and Howard’s words bewildered him
for the moment; later he would realize their import. Anyhow, now was
the time to act; the time to think would come later. So he grasped the
rope and waited while his former prisoner hoisted him up to the deck.
Once there he turned to Howard and opened his mouth. But that
individual checked him with a smile.
“After a while! After a while!” he counselled. “Let’s get back to the
Queen now. Where’s that smoke?”
He turned and gazed around the horizon; then he started.
“Something’s wrong on the Queen,” he cried. “Miss Fairfax is signalling
for us!”