A NIGHT OF ALARMS.
Castaways on the open sea in a boat without water, food or oars!
It was a situation to frighten the bravest. To add to the peril of the
boys' position, they had too appalling evidence of the fact that the
North Sea was strewn with floating mines which, even the impact of a
small craft, like the one in which they were drifting at the mercy of
the winds and waves, would serve to detonate.
Small wonder, then, that after a while conversation grew more and more
desultory until at length they each sat silent, gloomily surveying their
predicament. Fortunately, there was no hot sun to beat down on them and
aggravate the thirst both were already beginning to feel. But even with
cool weather they could not hope to fight off the agonies of thirst for
long. Food, so far, was a secondary consideration.
Then, too, the frail nature of their craft gave them cause for anxiety.
The gale showed as yet no signs of breaking up. From time to time the
ragged tops of great waves were ripped off by the fury of the wind,
deluging the boat in spray. It was necessary to keep bailing constantly
if they hoped to remain afloat.
The constant buffeting to which they were subjected was dizzying and
nauseating. Both lads ached in every limb. In a way they were glad to
have the exercise afforded by bailing, for it went a long way to keeping
their minds employed and their limbs from stiffening in the cramped, wet
boat.
Yet their nerves showed no outward sign of a breakdown. From time to
time they exchanged sentences intended to be cheerful; but it was a
ghastly sort of merriment of which they soon tired. Thus the hours wore
away and darkness set in with a slight dimunition of the violence of the
wind and signs, by the clearing of the sky, that the break of the gale
was at hand.
But they dared not sleep through the hours of darkness, except in hasty
snatches. Had the bailing pail been left alone for even an hour, the
boat inevitably would have been swamped. By midnight, though, the sea
was much smoother. Their dizzied heads, racked by the incessant tossing,
became clearer. They looked about them. Suddenly Jack gave a shout.
"Look! Look yonder!"
A short distance off, and apparently bearing down on them, were the red
and green sidelights and the bright white mast-head signal of a steamer!
Bill broke into a shout.
"Hurray, Jack, we're saved!"
"Not so fast, Bill. They may not see us in the dark."
"That's so. I'd give a million dollars, if I had it, for a box of
matches and some good dry stuff to burn for a signal."
"Not having those things, there's no use worrying about them," returned
Jack quietly, "but say, Bill, see here."
His voice was anxious. He gazed nervously at the approaching lights.
"That steamer's coming right down on us. We can see both her
sidelights."
"Well, so much the better. She's bound to see us."
"Haven't you thought of another possibility?"
"What do you mean?"
"Of a great danger?"
"I don't understand you."
"She's headed straight for us and we can't get out of the way. If she
doesn't change her course, it will be a miracle if she doesn't run us
down."
"I hadn't thought of that," said Bill in sobered tones. "What can we
do?"
"Nothing but to sit tight and trust to luck."
Both lads now sat with anxious eyes fixed on the approaching lights.
Nearer and nearer they came, traveling fast.
"Shout, Bill, shout with all your might," enjoined Jack.
They began yelling at the top of their lungs. But those inexorable
lights, like the eyes of some savage monster, still bore down menacingly
on them. Already, in anticipation, they felt the impact of the sharp
bow, the crash of smashed timbers and the suction of the propellers
drawing them down to death.
"They don't hear us," said Jack. "If the lookout doesn't sight us, we're
lost."
The steamer was very close now. By straining their eyes they thought
they could make out the dark outlines of her hull and spars against the
clearing sky. Bill hid his face in his hands. He could not bear to look
at the Juggernaut of the seas advancing to crush them. Jack, with more
fortitude, sat erect with a thousand thoughts whirring through his
brain.
The mighty bow loomed above the tiny chip of a boat, throwing off a
great wave. The comber caught the light craft and flung it aside. What
seemed like a black cliff, with here and there a gleaming light piercing
its face, raced past them, and the boat, with two white-faced, shaken
boys in it, was left in the wake of the fast-moving steamer, safe, but
being madly tossed about by the wash of her propellers. The danger had
passed, almost by a hand's breadth, but it was some time before they
were sufficiently masters of themselves to discuss their escape.