TEN HOURS IN THE DANGER ZONE
"What do you make the reckoning?" asked the captain, as the navigating
officer lowered his instrument, and turned to the book.
"Fifty, ten north," was the reply.
"On the line?" asked the captain.
"Twelve minutes east," answered the officer.
"Then we are forty miles due north of Havre," responded the captain.
"What did you mean by being 'on the line?'" asked Ralph, addressing the
captain.
"The zero line, or the point where all calculations east and west are
reckoned from, runs north and south through Greenwich, in England, a
place a little east of London. We are about fifteen miles east of that
line," replied the captain, "and one hundred and eighty miles south of
London."
But all were now interested in the further developments which might be
expected. The wireless was constantly receiving messages, and
occasionally the commander received messages which were, evidently,
interesting reading, judging from the comments made. Most of the
information related to the activities of the undersea boats, and only
in that region where they were now approaching.
The vessel was proceeding slowly, when suddenly the officer in the
crow's nest sent down a signal that vitalized the gunners. The guns
swung around instantly. Away off to starboard was the faintest ripple,
for the water was comparatively smooth.
Two shots rang out almost simultaneously from the fore and aft guns. It
was a thrilling sight to see the streaks of glistening water, which the
two shells brought up to be reflected by the brilliant sun. A shout from
the gunner at the bow caused a chorus of answering shouts.
"Did they hit it?" asked Alfred.
"Well, there is one less periscope, if I know anything," replied the
navigating officer.
Ralph had descended the stairs leading down from the bridge, and quickly
made his way to the bow.
"I want to congratulate you on that shot," he said, as he approached.
The gunner, with glowing face, turned, and, seeing Ralph, replied:
"Thank you, lad! Coming from you it's a compliment. Lor', but we like to
spot 'em."
"That fellow's as good as useless," remarked the officer in charge.
"But suppose the submarine has any torpedoes left?" queried Ralph.
"That wouldn't do him any good; he would have to use that to sight by,"
replied the officer.
"Yes; I can see that now," replied Ralph. "If he came to the top in
order to fire the torpedo he wouldn't last very long with these guns
pointing at him."
As Ralph was ascending the stairway leading to the bridge on his return
a half-hour later, the watch shouted out a warning: "Five points to
starboard!"
Every one was now keyed up to the highest pitch. The guns were quickly
swung to the angle indicated, and another tense moment arrived.
The captain walked over to the commander, and said: "It seems to me that
the best policy is to bear down on him with all speed possible. That
will give the gunners the best chance, and at the same time present the
smallest target for the submarine."
The commander nodded and gave the necessary order, but before the
helmsman had time to execute the turning movement the forward gun was
heard, quickly followed by the second gun. The aft gun also responded,
making three shots that were fired, striking the water in such close
proximity to each other that the aim must have been very accurate.
"Gunners from the Royal Navy," remarked the captain, as he lowered his
glasses. "And they have hit the mark."
"Do you think so?" asked Alfred.
"I am sure of it, for this reason," said the captain, as the officers on
the bridge crowded around; "neither of the periscopes is visible, and I
can plainly see the boiling that follows a sinking submarine."
The ship was now at full speed, sailing directly over the course where
the submarine was sighted. It did not take long for the vessel to cover
the mile, and, as they neared the tell-tale spot, the ship was veered
slightly out of its course, so that a good view could be obtained of the
surface of the water.
"How deep do you suppose that submarine is now?" asked Alfred.
"It is in less than two hundred feet of water; see, the air bubbles are
still coming up, although it went down fully fifteen minutes ago."
The steamer slowed down as it came abreast, and the passengers leaned
over the side in intense excitement, watching the signs which indicated
the death of another sea terror. Even while they were watching one
immense boiling zone appeared and settled down, indicating that another
air tank had given way, or that the pressure of the sea water had forced
the air from one of the innumerable pockets in the interior of the
submarine.
Four bells indicated a resumption of the journey. The great funnels
began to pour forth smoke in immense volumes, and the ship fairly shook
with the revolutions of the twin screws.
"So we are going directly south," said Ralph, who had just examined the
compass, and started for the stairway.
"There will be no let-up now," remarked the captain.
Every one understood that forced draught would now be resorted to, both
to avoid the likelihood of being torpedoed, and also to enable the ship
to reach port at the earliest possible moment. The _St. Duneen_,
although a twin-screw vessel, was not of more than 5,000 tons burden,
having been built as a mail carrier for distant ports, in which speed
was regarded as the important element in her construction.
As the commander remarked to the captain, after the latter reached the
bridge, he felt sure that the speed alone, which he was able to make in
an emergency, would baffle any attempt to reach his hull. It seemed so,
for the vessel fairly skimmed the surface of the water, and left a trail
which could be marked for miles.
Every one felt happy, and there was a feeling of security aboard that
was shared by every one. Luncheon was announced, and the boys were
descending the stairway leading to the cabin, when they felt a peculiar
sensation. They were thrown down the steps, taking with them several
women and children, who were alongside.
No sooner had they landed at the bottom, when the most terrific crash
was heard.
"Submarine!" shrieked a voice.
The sensation of the oscillating movement of the vessel was a sickening
one. The dining room was half-filled with women, children and men.
"To your cabins at once; life belts as quickly as possible!" shouted an
officer. "The men must aid the women and children. Do not become
excited."
This warning had a marked effect; it restored the confidence which had
been so rudely shocked. Ralph and Alfred sprang for the closets where
the life preservers were kept, and threw them out on the floor as fast
as they could grasp them. They caught up one child after the other, and,
without heeding the resistance which some offered, adjusted the belts,
and, as fast as this was done, they assisted in pushing the children
toward the companionway.
[Illustration: _A Contact Mine_]
The ship was slowly sinking to one side. The angle was very perceptible,
and especially noticed as the boys reached the stairway, for it was
found to be impossible to ascend by the starboard stairs. This made it
more difficult to get the people out of the crowded rooms below.
"Don't get excited!" shouted the officer from the head of the stairs.
"We can all clear the ship safely before she goes down."
As fast as the passengers reached the deck, officers were present to
direct them to the most advantageous boats, but no orders were given to
man the boats. The bow of the ship had gone down, and she was now lying
at a considerable angle, but it was evident that there was considerable
buoyancy in the vessel, and that there was no immediate danger.
"Are you sure that all are out of the cabins?" asked the captain, as one
of the porters appeared at the end of the passageway.
"We might as well take a look," said Alfred, as he rushed toward the
port passage.
"I will go through the other passageway and meet you at the aft
stairway," said Ralph, as he darted toward the gangway leading along the
right side of the ship.
Alfred diligently opened every door and glanced about; he was not long
in reaching the aft stairway area, and waited for some minutes for Ralph
to appear. As he was crossing the open space between the two
passageways, he heard a shriek, followed by piercing screams, evidently
from the port passage.
Directed by the sounds he sprang from door to door, and soon detected a
terrific struggle. "Help! help! I am being murdered!" was the cry.
At the door of a cabin Alfred saw two forms, one the woman, and the
other Ralph in a fierce struggle, the woman with her arms around the
post, which extended upward from the floor at the side of the cabin
couch. She defied every effort on the part of Ralph. Alfred seized her
hands, gradually loosened them, and when they had succeeded in freeing
her, she dropped down, completely exhausted, threw her head to one side,
and swooned.
This greatly facilitated her removal. The boys dragged her along the
passageway, and, nearing the stairs, noticed a peculiar sound, something
like a muffled explosion, followed by a sudden lurch of the ship, which
destroyed their balance so that they were compelled to drop their
burden.
"What can that be?" asked Ralph.
"Seems as though we have been hit the second time," replied Alfred.
"Oh! here you are!" shouted the captain, as he rushed down the stairway,
followed by an officer.
"What was that?" asked Ralph.
"A bulkhead has just given way," replied the captain.
"Then we are bound to go down," said Alfred with a sigh. "We must get
her up before she comes to."
"Yes, but we'll try to save her," replied the captain.
The ship was slowly sinking. The motion of a vessel as it loses its
buoyancy gives a most peculiar feeling to those on board, independently
of the knowledge that danger is lurking very near. The sinking motion is
not a smooth and steady going down, but the movement is accompanied by
successive throbs, as it seems,--it almost appears as though the ship
were a living thing, sobbing away, until the final plunge takes place.
Aided by the captain and the officer, the woman was quickly brought to
the deck, where it was learned that her husband had lost his life on a
torpedoed vessel a month before. She opened her eyes as they were
placing her in the boat, and instantly recognized Ralph.
"Did I resist and try to injure you?" she asked. "Forgive me!" she said
pleadingly. "But I have had so much trouble. You must be a brave boy to
act as you did."
"Don't mind that for a minute," replied Ralph. "We were bound to get you
out; we didn't think of anything else."
"Come on, boys; take the boat at the next davit," said the captain. "I
will be with you in a moment."
The boys entered the little dory and sat down. The navigating officer
was the last one to step in. He stood there with his instruments in his
hands, and cast a gloomy look along the deck. "Too bad, too bad!" he
said reflectively.
"Say, Ralph, I have an idea that we are hoodoos!" said Alfred, with a
serious air.
"Who is a hoodoo?" asked the captain, approaching and overhearing the
conversation.
"Hoodoo, nothing!" answered Ralph.
"Well, it begins to look like it," responded Alfred. "There is some sort
of deviltry around wherever we have happened to be ever since the war
began."
Notwithstanding the gravity of the situation, the captain could not
repress a smile, which he quickly suppressed, as he answered:
"Then what would you call me? They have sunk four ships under me by
torpedoes, and one by a mine. You have seen and experienced some of the
other adventures I have had within the past ten days, and now this is
another vessel to go down under me on account of a mine," said the
captain.
"A mine! a mine, did you say?" almost shrieked Alfred.
"Yes; one of the floating mines that the Germans are strewing about in
open defiance of all the laws," answered the captain with a bitter
voice.