Phil Morgan, coming up suddenly from the berth deck just as sweepers
were piped at 5:20 in the morning, fairly overturned a smaller lad who
had been straddling the top of the ladder.
“Hi, you sea-going elephant, you!” complained Ikey Rosenmeyer’s voice.
“Look where you are going!”
“‘Keep off the engine room hatch’,” chuckled the older lad, quoting one
of the emphasized orders from the manual. “Haven’t you learned that
yet?”
“No more than you have learned that ‘Whistling is never permitted aboard
ship’,” rejoined Ikey, getting up and rubbing his elbows.
“Wasn’t whistling!” denied Morgan.
“Well, your lips were all puckered up, just the same. And you know what
old Jehoshaphat,” he observed, using the nickname for the chief
master-at-arms, “said that time about your doing that. It’s just as bad
to look like you were whistling as to do it.”
“Aw, he’s deaf and was afraid I was putting something over on him,”
Morgan declared, and immediately proceeded to “pucker up” again in a
silent tune.
It was true that Phil Morgan had received more than one demerit when
first he had come to sea because of this proclivity of his for
whistling. He had really been driven to the extremity of carrying a
couple of small burrs under his tongue to remind him of the infraction
of ship rules he was about to commit whenever he thoughtlessly prepared
to whistle.
The Navy Boys had had a good many rules besides these two quoted above
to learn. And not only to learn, but to obey! Excuses are not accepted
in the Navy. Anybody who has ever looked through the Bluejacket’s Manual
will be impressed by these facts.
Every waking hour of the day has its duties for the men and boys aboard
ship. Especially for the apprentice seamen class to which Whistler and
his friends belonged. Their “hitch” was for four years, or until they
were twenty-one. And the more they learned and the higher they stood in
their various classes, the better their general rating would be if they
enlisted for a second term.
This last was their intention and expectation. They were by no means
cured of their love for the sea or their interest in the Navy by the
hard experiences they had suffered.
For that Philip Morgan and his chums had been through some serious
experiences since the war began could not be overlooked. But they were
just the sort of lads to enjoy what some people might consider extremely
perilous adventures.
The daily routine of duty aboard the _Colodia_ at times seemed tedious;
but the Navy Boys managed to stir up excitement in some form if routine
became too dull. In fact, the two younger chums, Ikey Rosenmeyer and
Frenchy Donahue, were inclined to be venturesome and at times they got
into trouble with the authorities.
This fact occasioned Whistler at this early hour to wonder what Ikey was
doing at the head of the berth deck ladder. This was not the younger
lad’s watch. He caught Ikey by the arm and led him to the rail. They
were careful not to lean on the rail or on the lifelines, for that was
against orders.
“What are you watching here for, anyway?” the older lad demanded.
“For the sun,” grinned Ikey.
“What you giving me? You don’t suppose the sun has forgotten to rise, do
you?”
“Dunno. Haven’t seen him yet.”
“It isn’t time.”
“Well, I’m keeping my eyes open,” said Ikey with twinkling eyes but
serious face.
“Shucks! What’s the game, anyway?” demanded Whistler.
“Why,” said Ikey, “the sun went down so blamed sudden last night that I
wasn’t sure whether it really set same as usual, or just that the old
fellow went out of business entirely. Didn’t you notice it?”
“Ah!” exclaimed the older lad, seeing the light, if not the sunlight.
“Don’t you know that we are getting nearer and nearer to the tropics,
and that there is mighty little twilight there?”
“No!”
“Fact. Night falls very suddenly.”
“‘Sudden!’ You said it!” ejaculated Ikey. “It’s enough to take your
breath. I told Frenchy I wasn’t sure the sun would ever come up again.”
The fingers of Dawn were already smearing pale colorings along the
eastern sky. The two boys watched the growing day wonderingly. No two
sunrises are alike at sea, and Whistler was never tired of watching the
changing sky and ocean.
This was the morning following the S O S call regarding the attack of
the super-submarine on an Argentine ship. The _Colodia_ was pounding
away at a furious rate toward the place which the wireless had
whispered; but the spot was still some leagues away.
It was a cloudy morning, the clouds being all around the horizon with
the promise of clear sky overhead. Windrow upon windrow of mist rolled
up above the horizon. The light in the east was half smothered by the
clouds.
“I guess the old sun will get here on the dot,” said Whistler, in a mind
to turn away to go about his duties.
“I’m going to wait for him,” said Ikey stubbornly. “No knowing what
tricks he might play. Hi! Look there!”
Whistler, as well as Ikey, suddenly became interested in what they saw
upon the western sky. There was a stratum of cloud floating there,
beneath which the horizon--the meeting line of sky and sea--was clear.
The spreading light of dawn imparted to this horizon line a clearness
quite startling. It was as though it had been just dashed on with a
brushful of fresh paint.
The floating cloudland was pearl gray above and rose pink beneath; and
that streak of “fresh paint” on the horizon line separated this
cloudland from the dull blue water.
The sun would soon pop up above the eastern sea line, despite Ikey’s
pessimism, and his coming rays were already touching lightly the clouds
above.
“Look at that! Isn’t it great?” breathed Whistler. “Why, you can just
about see through that cloud. It doesn’t seem real.”
“Clouds aren’t supposed to be very solid,” scoffed Ikey, unappreciative
of the poetry in his mate’s nature. “Only air and water.”
“Huh! Two of the three principal elements,” snapped Whistler. “Where’s
your science, smart boy? And that plane of cloud----”
“Looks just like the flat sea below it,” suggested Ikey, his interest
growing.
“You’re right, it does!” admitted Whistler. “See! I believe that cloud
is a reflection of the sea beneath. I bet it isn’t a cloud at all!”
“Then I guess I was right,” chuckled Ikey. “Nothing very _real_ about
it, is there?”
Mr. MacMasters came forward along the _Colodia’s_ deck just as Ikey made
this reply. He addressed the two friends smilingly:
“What is all the excitement, boys? Haven’t spotted a submarine, have
you, Rosenmeyer?”
Whistler turned to the ensign and waved a hand toward the phenomenon in
the west.
“What do you think of that out there, Mr. MacMasters?” he asked.
“I am not sure, but I think we are being vouchsafed a sight not often
noted at sea--and at this hour. It looks like a mirage.”
“Oi, oi!” murmured Ikey. “I understand now why it looks so funny.”
Whistler said: “Then that is a reflection of the sea up there in the
air?”
“Hanging between sea and sky, yes,” said the ensign. “A curious
phenomenon. But not, in all probability, a reflection of the sea
directly under that cloudlike vision.”
“No, sir.”
“Probably a reflection photographed on the clouds of a piece of the
ocean at a distance--just where one could scarcely figure out even by
the use of the ‘highest of higher mathematics’,” and the ensign laughed.
“A mirage,” repeated Whistler. “Well, I never saw the like before.”
“It looks just like a piece of the ocean, doesn’t it?” said Ikey
eagerly. “But there are no ships----”
He broke off with a startled cry. Mr. MacMasters and Whistler echoed the
ejaculation. Everybody on deck who had paid any attention to the mystery
in the sky showed increased interest.
Rising slowly and distinctly upon the reflective surface of the
reflected sea was an object which the onlookers watched with growing
excitement and wonder. It was the outlines of a ship--but not an
ordinary ship!
It had upperworks and the two stacks of a steam freighter. It was of the
color of the sea itself--gray; yet its outlines--even the wire
stays--were distinct!
The sea shown in the mirage had been absolutely empty. Now, of a sudden,
this ghostly figure had risen upon it. Whistler Morgan caught Mr.
MacMasters by the arm. He was so excited that he did not know he touched
the officer.
“Look at it! Do you know what it is?” he gasped. “That’s a submarine--a
huge submarine. She’s just risen to the surface.”
“It’s the sub we’re looking for!” cried Ikey, hoarsely. “My goodness,
see it sailing up there in the sky!”