HE IS CAST AWAY AND IS IN GREAT PERIL
"They're more likely to spill the cup when it's empty," said the deck
steward, who was a sort of walking encyclopedia to Tom.
"I suppose that's because we haven't got such a good convoy going back,"
Tom said.
"That and high visibility. You see, the less there is in the ship, the
higher she sets up in the water, and the higher she sets the better they
can see her. We're in ballast and floating like a balloon. They get
better tips about westbound ships, too. All the French ports are full of
German agents. They come through Switzerland."
The first day out on the voyage homeward was very rough. At about dusk
Tom was descending the steps from the bridge with a large tray when he
saw several of the ship's people (whose time was pretty much their own
on the westward trip) hurrying to the rail. One of them called to him,
"We're in for it;" but Tom was not alarmed, for by this time he was too
experienced a "salt" to be easily excited.
"You can see the wake!" someone shouted.
There was a sudden order on the bridge, somebody rushed past him and
then the tray, with all its contents, went crashing upon the steps and
Tom staggered against the stair-rail and clung to it.
The ship was struck--struck as if by a bolt out of the sky.
He had been through this sort of thing before and he was not scared. He
was shocked at the suddenness of it, but he kept his head and started
across the deck for his emergency post, aft. Everyone seemed to be
running in that direction.
He knew that however serious the damage, there was but small danger to
life, since the convoy was at hand and since there were so very few
people upon the ship; there were life-boats enough, without crowding,
for all on board.
But the impact, throwing him down the steps, as it did, had caused him
to twist his foot and he limped over to the rail for its assistance in
walking. Men were now appearing in life-preservers, and hovering
impatiently in the vicinity of the lifeboat davits, but he heard no
orders for manning the boats and he was distinctly aware of the engines
still going.
[Illustration: TOM WAS STANDING, OR TRYING TO STAND, ON A GERMAN
SUBMARINE.]
He hobbled along, holding the rail, intent upon reaching the davits
astern, where the third officer would give him orders, when suddenly
there was a splitting sound, the rail gave way, he struggled to regain
his balance and went headlong over the side, still clutching the piece
of rail which he had been leaning on.
He had the presence of mind to keep hold of it and to swim quickly away
from the vessel, trying to shout as he swam; but the sudden ducking had
filled his mouth with water and he could do little more than splutter.
He could see as he looked up that one of the upright stanchions which at
once strengthened the rail and supported the deck above, was in
splinters and it was this that had weakened the rail so that it gave
way. Vaguely he remembered reading of a submarine which, after
despatching a torpedo, had tried by gunfire to disable the steering
apparatus of a ship, and he wondered if that was the cause of the
shattered stanchion.
He would not have believed that one could be carried out of hearing so
rapidly, but before he realized it, he was thrown down into the abysmal
depths of a great sea with only a towering wall of black water to be
seen, and when he was borne up on the crest of another great roller he
saw the ship and her convoy at what seemed a great distance from him.
The vessels had seemed far apart from his viewpoint on deck, but now, so
great was his distance from them, that they seemed to form a very
compact flotilla and the hurried activities on the stricken vessel were
not visible at all.
He shouted lustily through the gathering dusk, but without result. Again
and again he called, till his head throbbed from the exertion. He could
see the smoke now, from his own vessel he thought, and he feared that
she was under way, headed back to France.
Later, when he was able to think connectedly at all, it was a matter of
wonder to him that he could have been carried so far in so short a time,
for he was not familiar with the fact known to all sailors that each
roller means a third of a mile and that a person may be carried out of
sight on the ocean in five minutes.
He could discover no sign now of the flotilla except several little
columns of smoke and he realized that the damage to the _Montauk_ could
not be serious and that they were probably making for the nearest French
port.
Tom was an expert swimmer, but this accomplishment was, of course, of no
avail now. He was nearly exhausted and his helplessness encouraged the
fatal spirit of surrender. With a desperate impulse he all but cast the
broken rail from him, resigned to struggle no more with its uncertain
buoyancy, which yielded to his weight and submerged him with every other
motion which he made.
Then he had an idea. Dragging from the wood was part of the rope network
which had been the under part of the ship's rail. It was stiff with
paint. Grasping it firmly in his mouth he managed to get his duck jacket
off and this he spread across the stiff network, floating the whole
business, jacket underneath, so that the painted rope netting acted as a
frame to hold the jacket spread out.
To his delight, he found this very buoyant, and with the strip of wood
which he lashed across it with his scarf and belt it was almost as good
as a life-preserver. He had to be careful to keep it flat upon the
water, for as soon as one edge went under the whole thing acted like the
horizontal rudders of a submarine. But he soon got the hang of managing
it and it was not half bad.