AN ANXIOUS OUTLOOK
"Come out, girlth, and thee the thhip," shouted Tommy, poking her head
into the cabin.
"Go away and don't bother me," groaned Margery. "Can't you see how
sick I am?"
"Ithn't that too bad?" deplored Tommy, withdrawing her face with a
most unsympathetic grin. All those on deck were watching the black
smudge on the horizon, and as they gazed it grew into a great, dark
cloud. Out of the cloud, after a time, they saw white foam flashing
in the sunlight, caused by the displacement of the great ship as she
forged through the summer seas.
"Shall we pass near her?" questioned Miss Elting.
"We're right on her course," replied the skipper. "We'll turn out
soon, for she won't shift her position an inch unless she thinks we're
going to run into her. Let your boat off a point to starboard, Miss
Burrell."
"Aye, aye," answered Harriet promptly, shifting the wheel slightly,
eyes fixed on the trembling compass card. The shift of position threw
the wind directly abeam. It was now blowing squarely against the
quarter, causing the sloop to heel down at a sharp angle. The boat
fairly leaped forward, her lee rail almost buried in a smother of
foam. The eyes of the girl at the wheel sparkled with pleasure. It was
glorious. Harriet Burrell could not remember to have enjoyed a happier
moment.
"They are watching us," announced the captain, who had been examining
the oncoming ship through his glass. "They think we may be coming out
to speak to them," he added with a chuckle.
"We don't thpeak thhipth in the daylight," answered Tommy, drawing a
quick glance from the captain. Harriet gave her a warning look, then
devoted her attention to steering the course, glancing at the oncoming
ship every now and then.
"Swing out," directed Captain Billy. "She throws a heavy swell. We
will cut across it at right angles passing under her stern. I'll tell
you when to swing in so we'll just make it. Now, can you see the
people?"
"Yes, yes!" cried the girls.
The huge red and black funnels belching clouds of dense black smoke
were now plainly visible, as were the towering upperworks of the ship,
and the bridge high in the air.
"Swing in," commanded the "Sue's" skipper.
Harriet put the helm hard over. The sloop responded quickly. Now the
spray dashed over the boat in a drenching shower, bringing shouts of
glee from the Meadow-Brook Girls. The move in a few minutes brought
them so close to the big ship that the girls could look into the fresh
sea-blown faces of the passengers who crowded the rails on that side
of the liner. It seemed as if the sloop must crash into the side of
the larger boat. Harriet glanced inquiringly at Captain Billy, who
nodded encouragingly, from which she understood that there was no
cause for alarm.
The girls were now waving their handkerchiefs and shouting to the
amazed passengers, who could not understand why a party in so frail a
craft should be met with far out to sea, how far few of those on the
ship knew. They did know that they were out of sight of land, which
made the marvel all the greater.
"Point in closer," commanded Captain Billy.
Harriet swung in still more. The "Sister Sue" buried her nose in the
foamy, eddying wake of the liner close under the counter, so close, in
fact, that the girls could see the water boiling over the twin
propellers and hear their beat. The next moment they had passed her
and were on the open, rolling sea again, with the big ship threshing
her way toward New York, rapidly widening the gap between herself and
the venturesome little craft. For the moment that they had been
blanketed by the steamer their sails had flattened and they had lost
headway, but now the wind picked them up, the sails bellied and the
little sloop continued on her way.
"We must turn now," said the skipper, consulting the skies, which he
swept with a comprehensive glance. He gave Harriet the return course.
"I fear we are going to lose the wind. It will pick up later, however.
No need to be anxious." He stepped inside the cabin and, leaning
forward, consulted the barometer. Harriet noted that his face wore a
look of anxiety for the moment. But it had entirely disappeared when
he returned to the deck. Once more he swept the horizon.
"How is the glass?" she asked, but in a voice too low for her
companions to hear. Harriet referred to the barometer.
"It has fallen over an inch in two hours," answered Captain Billy.
"That is a big drop, isn't it?"
"I should say so. But don't say anything to the others," he added,
with a quick glance at the girls to see if any had overheard either
his or Harriet Burrell's remarks.
"It means a blow, does it not?"
"Yes. But it may be a long way off, possibly a hundred miles or more."
"Then, again, we may be right in the center of it?" she questioned.
The skipper nodded again.
"Is there anything to be done?"
"Nothing except to make all the time we can and keep a weather eye
aloft and abroad. Watch your sails and trim them for every breath of
air. Jockey her. Now is your time to see what can be done when there
is little wind to be had."
Harriet was getting practical experience in sailing a boat such as
falls to few novices, but she took to the work like one who had long
been used to the sea and its varying moods. Under her skilful
manipulation the "Sister Sue" was making fairly good headway, though
nothing like what she had done on the outward voyage, for the wind was
dying out, becoming more fitful, shifting from one point of the
compass to another.
"When the wind moves opposite to the direction of the hands of a
clock--what seamen call 'against the clock'--look out for foul
weather," the captain informed her.
"That is the way it is going now, isn't it?"
"Yes."
"I hope we shall have enough to take us home."
"We may have too much." Once more the skipper studied the horizon to
the northeast. That he was not pleased with his observation Harriet
was confident. Again he took a long look at the barometer, glanced at
the compass to see that she was on her course, then, thrusting his
hands into his pockets, studied the rigging overhead.
"We aren't making much headway, are we?" questioned Miss Elting.
"None at all," was the, to her, surprising reply; "we're in a dead
calm now."
The waves had taken on an oily appearance and there were no longer
white crests on the rollers. The "Sister Sue" rolled and plunged in a
sickening way, the boom swinging from side to side. All hands were in
the cockpit or cabin, however, so that there was no danger of their
being hit by the swinging boom. In the cabin was heard a series of
groans more agonized than before. The guardian had recovered in a
measure, though they observed that she was very pale. The fresh air
outside revived her somewhat.
"I wish you to tell me frankly if there is any danger?" she demanded.
"Not yet," was the skipper's evasive answer.
"Meaning that there may be later?"
"We may be late getting home," he replied. "I can't say any more than
that now. Ugh!"
Harriet Burrell saw him gazing off to the northeast. She followed the
direction of his glance, and saw a purplish haze hanging heavily on
the horizon. As she gazed the purple haze seemed to grow darker and to
increase in size. The sight disturbed her, though she did not know
why. The sea now made little noise. A flock of seagulls could be
plainly heard honking high overhead, and a chattering flock of stormy
petrels soared down, coming to rest on the water in the wake of the
sloop.
"I'll take in the jibs. Mind your wheel. We are in for a blow,"
announced the skipper.