THE OVERTURNED BOAT.
Matt knew why the original orders given him by Captain Nemo, Jr.,
carried the _Grampus_ around the Horn. For a vessel that depended on
anything but sails for motive power rounding the Horn was no difficult
matter. In those southern waters bad weather prevails, but it was
possible for the submarine to dive downward and escape the gales and
the rough seas. Magellan Strait, on the other hand, was difficult of
navigation. Captain Nemo, Jr., had specified a course around the Horn
in order to expose the _Grampus_ to as little hazard as might be. He
had not known, of course, that Matt and his friends were to be beset by
such relentless foes as the Sons of the Rising Sun. Matt preferred to
risk the difficult passage of the strait rather than to take chances
rounding the southern tip of the continent.
It would have been possible for him, of course, so to word his wireless
message as to carry the mysterious steamer through the strait, leaving
the _Grampus_ free to take the course originally laid down for her. But
that would have given the steamer the shortest course to the Pacific,
and she could have been waiting in Smyth Channel, at the western end
of the strait, when the submarine came picking her way among the
islands. On the whole, it seemed to Matt better that he should send the
mysterious steamer around the Horn, and so get ahead of her for the run
up the Chilian coast.
The barometer had been falling rapidly all afternoon, and Matt was in a
hurry to round Cape Virgins and find anchorage in Possession Bay, there
to submerge to a good depth, avoid the storm, and pass the night. While
in the strait they would have to do their navigating by daylight, and
either sink to the bottom or tie up during the hours of darkness.
While the _Grampus_ was still at the surface, Matt pushed through the
hatch to get a look at the sky. Off to the south the heavens were black
as the inside of a tar barrel, and through the heavy gloom ran vivid
lines of lightning. The wind was high and constantly increasing, so
that the waves were lashed furiously. But the rollers were long, and
when the submarine crossed one high wave, she slid down the watery
hill like a toboggan, ramming her sharp nose into the next comber, and
flinging the scud high over the conning tower.
Our friends aboard the craft were hurled about at every angle, and
it was necessary for those who had to remain at their posts to lash
themselves securely in order to avoid being thrown against the
machinery, or the steel plates of side or bulkhead.
Matt closed and secured the hatch, after which he slid down the ladder.
Speake, tied to rings in the forward bulkhead of the periscope room,
was watching the periscope and doing the steering. The floor underneath
seemed to tumble around like the back of a rearing horse.
"We're getting it good an' proper, Matt," said Speake. "For exercise in
ground an' lofty tumblin', a submarine in a seaway takes the banner."
"We'll submerge," said Matt, "but I'm in hopes we can get around Cape
Virgins and into Possession Bay before the worst of it hits us."
He turned to the tank-room speaking tube.
"A ten-foot submergence, Clackett!" he called.
The pounding of waves against the hull caused a dull roaring throughout
the boat, almost deadening the "ay, ay" that came from Clackett.
Presently, as the ballast tanks slowly filled, the _Grampus_ sank until
only five feet of the periscope mast was out of water. The motion
of the boat was perceptibly easier, but steering by periscope was
difficult. Huge waves flung themselves at the ball that capped the mast
and thus sponged out the view that should have been reflected on the
mirror. Only at intervals could a view above the surface be obtained.
Matt called Dick and had him lash himself at the periscope table, thus
leaving Speake free to attend to the wheel.
"Keelhaul me!" muttered Dick. "It's as black as your hat all around
us. And lightning! I'm a Fiji if I ever saw it so sharp."
"Can you raise Cape Virgins?" queried Matt.
"I can see something off to starboard that looks as though it might be
the cape."
"Well, after we once get around that we'll be in quieter waters and
will submerge for the night. Keep your eyes peeled, Dick. This would be
a bad time to collide with some steamer just leaving the strait."
Matt, braced on the locker, fell to examining the chart again. While he
was at it, a yell of amazement and consternation came from Dick.
The shout lifted Matt off the locker.
"What's the matter?" he asked, ranging alongside his chum.
"An overturned boat," gasped Dick. "I saw it in a trough of the waves
just as the periscope cleared--_and there were men lashed to the
bottom_!"
"Positive of that?" returned Matt, fixing his eyes on the mirror.
"Watch, matey, and mayhap you'll see them for yourself."
Just then the periscope ball shook itself free of the waves, and the
tumbling sea lay under Matt's eyes. As the darkness was lighted by
a glare of lightning, the young motorist was thrilled by the vivid
glimpse thus given him of the overturned boat. It was about a hundred
feet away on the starboard side, and, at that moment, was being hurled
high on the top of a comber. There were five dripping forms on the
boat's bottom--Matt saw that much before another wave drenched the
periscope ball.
Whirling away, he turned to the motor-room tube.
"Is Glennie or Carl down there?" he shouted.
"Glennie's helping me," answered Gaines, "and Carl's with Clackett."
"Send 'em both up here on the jump."
"What're you going to try to do?" demanded Speake, as Matt began
throwing coils of light, strong rope out of the locker.
"There are five men on that overturned boat," was the determined
answer, "and we're going to save them."
"It's as much as your life is worth, Matt," returned Speake earnestly,
"to bring the _Grampus_ to the surface and venture out on deck."
Matt had thrown off his coat and hat and was now taking off his shoes.
"It's our duty to do what we can," said he. "We can't leave those five
men to be washed into the sea and drowned."
"No more we can't," seconded Dick, likewise beginning to peel off his
extra clothing. "Watch your old periscope yourself, Speake. I wouldn't
give tuppence for those fellows' chances if we don't snatch 'em off."
At that moment Carl and Glennie came rolling into the periscope room.
It took Matt only half a minute to tell them of the work that lay ahead.
"Hoop-a-la!" shouted Carl, beginning to strip, "dot means me!"
"And me, too," averred Glennie, likewise preparing himself.
"Dick and I will tie ropes around us and go on the deck," said Matt.
"Glennie will stand in the tower and do the steering. Dick and I will
each carry the spare ends of a couple of ropes with us, and the coils
will be left down here in the periscope room. As soon as one of the
men makes fast to a rope, Carl and Speake will tail onto it and haul
him aboard."
Matt turned to the tank-room tube.
"Empty the ballast tanks, Clackett!" he shouted.
Clackett must have thought that a strange order, but he was there
to obey, and the tone of Matt's voice told him clearly that instant
compliance was wanted.
The splash of the turbines could be heard, and the _Grampus_ began
rising into rougher water.
"I'll go out first," said Matt, stepping to the ladder. "You follow me,
Dick, and, Glennie, you come last."
Matt lingered a moment to pick up an iron wrench and secure it to the
end of one of the ropes that was going aloft with him, and then made
his way up the ladder.
By then the _Grampus_ was rolling and pitching on the surface, and when
Matt opened the hatch, a wave swept over his head, nearly smothering
him and hurling him fiercely against the inner wall of the tower.
It looked like suicide to venture out into the waves that hurled
themselves over the rounded deck of the submarine, but he watched
his chances, got over the edge of the tower and crawled to the steel
periscope mast. Just as he reached it, another wave flung itself over
the boat. Had his arms not been around the mast, he would have been
plucked bodily from the deck and swept into the sea.
As soon as the wave had passed, he tied his life line to the stout
steel upright, and stood erect. Just then the submarine was riding
a wave, and he saw the overturned boat to the north and on the port
side--twice as far away as when he had first seen her through the
periscope.
Dick was on the other side of the tower, lashing himself to the
flagstaff, and Glennie was out of the hatch to the waist line.
Talking, at such a time, was impossible. Matt pointed in the direction
of the overturned boat, and the faint tinkle of the motor-room bell
below was heard as Glennie signaled for a turn on the port tack.
As the _Grampus_ came around, she was rolled like a barrel, Matt,
Glennie, and Dick, all three, being entirely submerged. But the stout
craft was nothing more than a big air chamber, and so long as her
plates held together she was practically unsinkable.
Righting herself, the submarine brought the three boys up out of the
whirling maelstrom of water.
Matt looked behind. Glennie, dauntless and determined, still reared
above the hatch, peering ahead and directing the course; and Dick,
farther aft, was hauling at one of his spare lines, coiling it in his
hand and making ready to cast as soon as the _Grampus_ came close
enough to the overturned boat.