A BATTLE IN THE DARK
Even at lunch time the toiling trio, Rusty, Johnny and MacGregor, were
not invited to have their lunch on deck. Instead, they were served, like
the coolie with whom they toiled, with great bowls of some mixture that
looked like soup.
“Hm,” MacGregor sighed, “fish chowder. And not bad.”
Rusty’s eyes shone. “What a lark!” She laughed outright. “I only wish we
had a camera. My crowd down in Seattle won’t believe me.”
Johnny looked at her in surprise and admiration. “Here’s one girl with a
spirit that can’t be broken,” he thought.
“Reminds me of a time I was on the Big Diomede Island on Bering Straits,”
said MacGregor with a rumble of merriment. “We were cutting up a big
walrus. I saw an old woman working over the stomach of that walrus. Know
what the walrus lives on?” he demanded.
“Clams,” said Johnny.
“Right. Bright boy,” said MacGregor. “The thing that had happened was
this. The walrus had been down to the bottom. He’d ripped up the sand at
the bottom of the sea. He’d cracked a lot of clams and had swallowed ’em.
He hadn’t digested ’em yet when we shot ’im. Know what that Eskimo woman
was doing?”
“Can’t guess.”
“She had a white pan and was savin’ the clams from the walrus’ stomach.
And that night,” there came a low rumble from deep down in MacGregor’s
throat, “that night we had seal steak and clam chowder for supper. An’ I
took seal steak.”
“O-oh,” Johnny breathed.
“Mr. MacGregor,” Rusty said with a gurgle, “you wouldn’t spoil anyone’s
dinner, would you?”
“Not for the world,” was the old man’s solemn avowal.
“Listen,” MacGregor held up a hand. “I hear an electric generator going.
It’s on this deck. I wonder why? I’m going for a little walk.”
“They’ll chase you back.”
“That’s all they can do.” He was away.
“The ship’s beginning to sway a little,” Johnny said. “Shouldn’t wonder
if we’d get a storm.” The girl could not suppress an involuntary shudder.
“Johnny,” she leaned close to speak almost in a whisper. “When we used
coolie labor I learned to talk with them a little. I’ve been talking to
the coolie who cuts off fish’s heads next to me. He says they expect to
have a boatload of fish in a week or ten days. Then they’ll go back to
the Orient.”
“And if we go with them?” Johnny breathed.
“I’ve seen pictures of the Orient.” The girl’s eyes were closed. “It’s
gorgeous. It truly must be.”
“Do you think we’d get to see anything?”
“Why not?” the girl laughed low. “It’s all there to see. At least they
can’t keep us from dreaming.”
“No, they surely cannot.” At that Johnny did some very choice dreaming,
all his own.
He was wakened from these dreams by the return of MacGregor. “It’s the
strangest thing!” he exclaimed. “I got a look into that place. There’s a
huge generator an’ it’s chargin’ batteries.”
“Batteries!” Johnny exclaimed in surprise.
“Sure! Banks and banks of large batteries.”
“When submarines go under water,” Johnny spoke slowly, “they use
batteries for power. What do you think?”
“I don’t think,” said MacGregor. “Anyway, here’s our little boss. He
wants us to resume our duties as first-class cleaners of sock-eyed
salmon.”
As the day wore on Johnny watched Rusty ever more closely. The heavy,
unpleasant work, together with the ever-increasing roll of the ship, was
telling. He was not surprised that, after the day was over and they were
allowed to go to the upper deck, she took his arm to lean on it heavily.
“Johnny, I won’t give up. Please help me not to give up.”
Johnny looked down at her with a reassuring smile.
As they stepped on deck they found themselves looking at a new world.
Gone was the fog. In its place was racing blue waters, flecked with foam.
“A storm!” the girl shuddered.
“Just too dark to see land,” Johnny groaned. “If it wasn’t, we might get
our location and then—”
“Then what?” she whispered.
“I have some plans. We—”
“Sh—an officer!” she warned.
At the evening meal Rusty ate hard, dry crackers and drank scalding tea.
She was still putting up a brave struggle against being sea-sick.
When darkness came they went below. Rusty retired at once. Johnny threw
himself, all dressed, upon his berth, but did not sleep.
An hour later a shadowy figure passed him. It was Rusty. She was carrying
blankets. Without a sound, he followed her. Arrived on deck, he saw her
at the rail. Understanding, he dropped down upon a wooden bench.
After what seemed a long time, she turned and saw him. Swaying as she
walked, she came toward him to drop down at his side. She did not say, “I
am so sick!” She was too game for that and there was no need. He wrapped
her in the blankets. Then they sat there in silence.
The wind was rising steadily. It went whistling through the rigging.
Ropes banged and yard-arms swayed. A shadow shot past them, a watch on
duty. Lights shone on the blue-black sea. It was a truly wild night.
Of a sudden a form stood before them. Clutching a steel cable, it clung
there.
“Thousand pardons,” it hissed. “Cannot stay here. It is forbidden.”
“My friend is sick. We stay.” Johnny felt his anger rising.
“Thousand pardons,” came once more. “Cannot stay.”
“Million pardons,” Johnny half rose. “We stay.”
A hand reached out. It touched Rusty’s shoulder. That was enough. Johnny
leaped at the man. They went down in a heap. A second more and Johnny
felt a steel clamp about his neck, or so it seemed.
“Jujitsu,” he thought in sudden consternation. Throwing all his strength
into an effort to break the man’s grip, he failed. Coughing, trying to
breathe, failing, strangling, he felt his strength going when, of a
sudden, he caught the sound of a blow, then felt the hated arm relax. Ten
seconds more and he was free.
“You—you hit him,” he managed to breathe. “Is he dead?”
“No—no. Watch out!” the girl warned.
Just in time Johnny caught the man. This time, gripping him by collar and
trousers, he dragged him from the floor. And then, screaming like some
wild thing, the brown man found himself hanging out over an angry sea.
“Johnny, don’t!” The girl’s hand was on his arm.
“Oh, all—all right.”
Swinging the brown man in, he dropped him on the deck. Like a scared
rabbit, the intruder went racing off on all fours.
“Now I’ve done it,” Johnny groaned as he dropped back in his place.
“Perhaps,” said Rusty. “Still, you can’t tell.”