WHEN THE SUBMARINE STRUCK
It was long past midnight.
In fact, the aviators could expect to see dawn break before a great
while. When that event came about they knew what an appalling spectacle
must greet their wondering eyes. Above, the boundless expanse of blue
sky, with fleecy little white clouds passing here and there, looking like
islands in a sea of azure; below, an unending sea of tossing waves, with
perhaps not even a fishing vessel in sight.
Jack fell asleep, being utterly tired out. Tom too caught what he called
little "cat-naps" from time to time. Beverly stuck faithfully to his
post, for not a wink of sleep could come to one in whose hands the
destinies of the whole expedition lay.
So the minutes passed, bringing them ever nearer the breaking of another
day. The immensity of their undertaking no longer appalled them. It was
too late for consideration anyway, since they were now fully launched
upon the flight, and turning back was not to be thought of.
Jack, waking out of a nap, looked down, and immediately uttered a loud
cry.
"Why, it's getting daylight, and you can glimpse the ocean! How queer it
looks, fellows, to be sure! Is everything going well, Colin?"
"Couldn't be improved on," he was assured by the faithful pilot.
"First I must use the glasses to see how it looks at closer range," Jack
continued. "Then I think we ought to have breakfast. This cold air makes
a fellow as hungry as a wolf. I think I must have lost myself for a bit."
Tom did not say anything, only smiled, but he knew that the other had
enjoyed at least a full hour of sleep.
"How far are we from land, Tom, would you say?" next asked the observer,
while he was adjusting the glasses to his eyes.
"Possibly a hundred and fifty miles, perhaps nearer two hundred," Tom
assured him, in a matter-of-fact tone, as though that was only what might
be expected.
"Hello! I can see a vessel already, and heading into the west!" declared
Jack. "Of course I can't make out what she's like, though I bet you her
hull and funnels are camouflaged to beat the band, so as to fool those
Hun submarine pirates with the stripes of black and white. You don't
think it's possible that could be the _La Bretagne_, Tom?"
"Well, hardly," came the quick reply, "unless something happened to
detain the French steamer after she left Havre days ago. She ought to be
a whole lot further along than this boat is. She must be some small liner
from Liverpool or Southampton, making for Halifax or New York."
Jack presently tired of staring at the little speck far down below.
"I wonder if they can see us with a glass," he next observed, as Tom
began to hand out bread and butter, with hard-boiled eggs or ham between,
and some warm coffee kept in Thermos bottles so as to take the chill of
the high altitudes out of their bodies.
"Not a chance in a hundred," Beverly assured him. "Besides, those aboard
the steamer are devoting all their efforts to watching for enemies in the
water, and not among the clouds."
They munched their breakfast and enjoyed it immensely. Indeed it seemed
as though they devoured twice as much as upon ordinary occasions.
"Lucky we laid in plenty of grub!" Jack declared, when finally all of
them announced that they were satisfied. "This Atlantic air makes one
keep hungry all the time. Now I can see that steamer plainly, for we've
dropped a little lower. Oh! What can that mean?"
His voice had a ring of sudden alarm about it that instantly aroused
Tom's curiosity. Even Lieutenant Beverly looked over his shoulder as
though he, too, felt a desire to learn more.
"They seem to be firing guns!" continued Jack presently. "Of course we're
far too high to hear the sound, but I can see the smoke as sure as I'm
sitting here. Can it be they're being attacked by a Hun undersea boat, do
you think, boys?"
"Such things keep on happening right along in these shark-infested
waters," replied Tom. "Go on and tell us all you see, Jack!"
They were all of them thrilled by the consciousness that possibly a grim
tragedy of the sea was being enacted directly beneath, without any
likelihood of their being able to render succor to those who might soon
be in distress.
"They keep on firing," Jack continued. "I can see each puff of smoke
belch out. There, something has happened! I believe it was a torpedo that
exploded against the hull of the steamer, for I saw a great blotch rise
up, and men are running about the decks like mad!"
Beverly had almost automatically decreased their speed, as though
inclined to hover above the ill-fated vessel as long as possible, at
least to learn what followed.
"They seem to be making signals!" Jack presently cried out.
"Look around and see if you can glimpse anything coming on!" demanded
Tom, as though suspecting the cause of this fresh announcement.
Hardly had the one who gripped the binoculars started to do as he was
requested than he gave a cry of mingled relief and satisfaction.
"Two boats racing straight for the spot, boys! Destroyers, too! Like as
not Americans, for they keep lying out here, you know, to protect our
transports going over with the boys. How they do cut through the water
with their sharp bows and make the waves fly! But that steamer looks as
if she might be sinking right now!"
The excitement grew intense. Beverly even started to circle around,
content to lose a few miles and some minutes if only he could satisfy
their minds that all was well with the unfortunate steamer that had been
so ruthlessly torpedoed without warning by the undersea pirates.
"They're coming up like fun!" cried Jack presently. "I can't see as well
as I'd like, though, on account of the sea fog that keeps drifting along
in patches like clouds. I really believe they'll get up before she
founders. Now the crew have started putting off boats to make sure of
saving the passengers if the worst comes!"
"Which shows they have a capable captain aboard," commented Tom.
"But the sea must be pretty rough," continued Jack, "because the small
boats toss and pitch sharply as they start away from the steamer. Hang
that fog, it's going to shut the whole picture out soon. But there,
one of the destroyers has arrived, and the boats are heading straight
on to it."
A minute later Jack gave them another little batch of news.
"The other destroyer is circling around, and must be looking for signs of
the sub. Wow! that was a terrible waterspout, though. And there goes a
second one!"
"They're dropping depth bombs, intending to get the slinker!" announced
Beverly jubilantly.
"Here's hoping they do then!" cried Jack, and immediately afterwards
added: "But it's all over for us, boys, because the fog's shut it off
completely. Might as well get along on our way; but I'm happy to know
those Yankee boats came up in time to save everybody aboard the steamer.
What a bully view we had of the performance!"
"It's such things that are apt to break the monotony and routine of a
long flight like the one we've undertaken," remarked Tom. "In time, of
course, the dash across the Atlantic will become quite common; and those
who make it are apt to see wonderful sights."
"Two hundred miles out," Jack was saying to himself as he sat there still
holding the glasses in his hand, though not attempting to make use of
them, and his eyes ranged longingly toward the western horizon where the
blue of the sky touched the dark green of the boundless sea, all his
thoughts centered on the goal that lay far distant across that vast waste
of tumbling waters.
So as the sun started to climb in the eastern heavens the flight of the
big bombing plane carrying the trio of adventurous ones was continued,
every mile left behind bringing them that much nearer their destination,
with the future still an unsolved problem.