A TERRIBLE LOSS.
To be suddenly aroused out of a sound sleep, and immediately afterwards
to find yourself struggling in deep, dark water is not an experience to
be desired. The first plunge made me shiver from head to foot, and it
was only by instinct that I kept my mouth shut and struck out to keep
myself afloat.
I had not the slightest notion of what had happened, and in the darkness
could see nothing. It was some time ere I could recover and call out to
the cabin boy:
"What is it, Phil? Where are you?"
"Here I am," he cried, close beside me; and an instant later his hand
touched my body.
"What happened?" I repeated.
"I don't know," he replied. "Either something struck the boat, or else
we hit a rock."
"I don't think we are near enough to shore to strike a rock," I
rejoined.
"Well, what was it then?"
"I don't know, and what's more I'm not going to try to find out just at
present. Where is the raft?"
"I guess the Hasty has gone to the bottom. I can't see her anywhere
around."
"Don't be foolish. She couldn't sink."
"That's so; I forgot. Well, where is she then?"
"We must find her. Can you keep on swimming?"
"For awhile. But don't leave me!" added the cabin boy in sudden alarm.
"I won't. We can swim together. Take it easy."
Side by side we struck out. My thoughts were busy. Suppose we were not
able to find the raft? To swim any great distance would be impossible,
and we could not float forever.
"It's hard work, and no mistake," said Phil, after a few moments of
silence. "I can't go much further."
"Suppose we let ourselves drift with the current."
"That's a good plan, for I suppose the Hasty did the same thing."
So we allowed ourselves to drift for fully ten minutes. Fortunately
both of us were good swimmers, and understood the art of floating. If
not, it might have gone hard with us.
"What's that ahead?" cried the cabin boy, at length.
"Where?"
"There! To the right!"
I strained my eyes. Was it a light? Yes; not one but several, and all
moving rapidly away.
"It's a boat!" I cried. "Let us yell."
And yell we did; once, twice, and then a dozen times, in a tone that
made me so hoarse I could hardly speak afterwards.
"It's no use," said Phil. "It's a steamer, and they won't pay any
attention."
"I shouldn't wonder but that it was the vessel that struck us?" I
exclaimed.
"Most likely. But if they would only pick us up I wouldn't care a
straw."
After this there was another interval of silence. Then my arm struck
something hard. I put out my hand, and was overjoyed to find that it was
the raft.
"Here she is!" I cried. "Here's the Hasty."
"Thank our stars!" returned Phil; "I couldn't have held out much
longer."
It did not take us long to get aboard, and completely exhausted we sank
down on the flooring and panted to get our breath.
There was no more sleep for us that night, so we both sat close
together, and talked of what had struck us, and what damage it had done
to the raft.
"The rudder is smashed," said Phil.
"Never mind, we can make another in the morning," I returned. "It's too
dark to do anything now."
So we let the raft drift at will, trusting the wind was still blowing us
toward the shore.
Slowly the night wore on, and at the first streak of dawn we were both
in motion. It seemed a shame to rip up another part of the flooring to
make a rudder. Yet there was no help for it. While doing so I noticed
that the doors were unusually wet, but gave it no attention, thinking it
had been caused by the raft dipping under when the vessel had struck us.
At last we began to get hungry, and Phil hauled some crackers from the
provision box.
"They will make us mighty thirsty, and we haven't much water," he said.
"But I hadn't time to hunt up just the best things to take along."
We ate our crackers, and when we had finished them I turned to the cask
to get some water. I pulled out the bung, and was horrified to discover
that the cask was empty!
"The water's gone!" I gasped.
"What!"
"It's true; there isn't a drop in the cask!"
Phil was fully as much dismayed as I was. Alone on the broad Atlantic
and not a drop to drink!
"We can't live without water," he cried.
"I know that. It is worse than being without food."
"Ten times over. Where has the water gone?"
We examined the cask carefully. At the bottom was a bunghole in which a
bung had been placed; but either the riding of the raft or the shock had
loosened the bung, and it had dropped out and allowed the water to run
away to the last drop.
"We are done for now!" groaned Phil. "We can't stand it twenty-four
hours without something to drink."
"Perhaps we'll have a change in luck before that," said I; but I had my
doubts.
The hours that passed after I made the discovery were terrible ones. We
suffered intensely from thirst, and I was almost tempted to drink the
salt water that surrounded us. Had I done so this tale would probably
have never been written.
When the noonday sun shone down upon us we could not stand to be out in
it. Phil crawled under the canvas, his eyes rolling strangely.
"Water! water! oh, give me water!" he cried.
I was startled. Was the poor boy going insane?
"Let me wet the canvas," I said. "It will make it cooler."
I did as I suggested, and the cabin boy declared it was much better than
before. Then I coaxed him to try to sleep, and at last he fell into a
troublesome doze.
Throwing more water on the canvas until it was sopping wet, I crawled in
beside him.
But not to sleep. My mind was in a whirl, and I could not think clearly.
My mouth was parched, and my tongue so thick that when I tried to utter
some words in reverie I could not, a thing that frightened me still
more.