A STRANGE VISIT
Clearly visible to the members of the crew on the Lena Knobloch the great
cloud of smoke slowly spread over the vessel.
Directly a sullen “Boom” reached their ears. As the smoke spread away the
lads could see a great rent in the side through which water was rushing.
Already the ship was listing heavily.
Two small boats were being pulled away from the vicinity by the crew of
the doomed vessel. The small craft were handled in a seamanlike manner.
They made good progress in spite of the still heavy sea.
“By golly!” ejaculated Von Kluck, drawing a long breath. “Maybe vhe get
id next, vhat? Dere ain’d no vay of tellin’!”
“Why do you think that, Captain?” questioned Ned.
“Dot verdom ‘U-13’!” grunted Von Kluck. “Vhe’ll pe lucky,”—here his
excitement grew so intense that he delivered himself of several great
sailor’s oaths—“if vhe make a port in England alretty!”
“Keep a sharp lookout, boys,” said Ned. “Maybe we can get a sight of the
‘U-13’ if it’s still in this neighborhood.”
Scarcely had the boy uttered the words before the lookout hailed the
deck. His voice vibrated with excitement and fear.
“Vot is, aloft, dere?” roared Von Kluck.
Excitedly jabbering in his intense emotion the lookout frantically
pointed in the direction of the sinking ship. Without waiting for orders
he came sliding down the halliards. As he landed on deck he turned an
ashen face toward the captain. Again he pointed seaward.
“The ‘U-13’!” he gasped in an agony of terror.
A glance in the direction indicated showed the boys an object like a spar
buoy apparently standing upright in the water. The next moment a swell
rolled over something beneath the upright object.
The next wave disclosed a long, rounded steel hull. In the center the
conning tower showed plainly. A moment later the outlines of the dreaded
submarine were distinguishable as the craft was propelled to the surface.
Each wave broke clear over the arched back of this terror of the seas
leaving the black hull gleaming in the faint light. Only the upper
portion of the conning tower escaped a ducking.
Presently the hatch was opened. A man in uniform stepped out onto the
narrow confines of the small deck. His attention was directed toward
the schooner. After what seemed to the boys to be an almost endless
examination of their vessel the man turned to address a remark to some
one evidently close to the hatch but out of their vision.
“What is he saying?” Ned asked von Kluck.
“He iss telling dot odder feller dot vhe iss das Lena Knobloch!”
“What next, I wonder?” speculated Jimmie aloud.
“Next?” almost screamed von Kluck. “Next, vhe iss ordered to get by our
boats into und row far enough avhay so dey couldt blow up us!”
In his intense agitation the captain began pacing up and down the deck.
The submarine drew close alongside the schooner easily keeping pace with
the sailing vessel at the rate they were progressing.
“Von Kluck is certainly worked up about it,” remarked Harry as he noted
the captain’s distracted manner. “He’s almost bughouse!”
“Well, so would you be, too, if all you had were about to be sent to the
bottom of the ocean!” declared Ned. “It’s tough luck!”
“Maybe we’d better be getting our kits in shape,” suggested Jack moving
toward the cabin. “I don’t want to leave everything!”
“I had to leave everything,” put in Frank, “when they sunk the ship I was
on. I felt lucky to get away with my life!”
“Let’s make a try for it, anyway,” continued Jack.
“Wait a minute!” cried Ned, “let’s see what they’re going to do. The man
is going below again! Why don’t he hail us?”
Strangely enough the officer was descending the hatchway without speaking
a word to those on board the schooner.
This procedure puzzled von Kluck, but did not serve to reduce in any
degree the excitement under which he was laboring.
“Lay aft a couble of handts und make reaty der boats!” he shouted. “Come
on, hurry oop! Lifely, now, men!”
In obedience to this command two members of the crew sprang towards
the stern of the schooner to make preparations for launching the boat
lashed at the stern. Two others frantically loosened the lashings of the
upturned boat lying amidships.
A clanking sound indicating that the hatchway of the “U-13” had been
closed attracted the attention of the boys in that direction.
“What are they going to do now?” questioned Jimmie eagerly.
“I fancy they are going to pull away a little so as to launch a torpedo
at us,” stated Ned. “It don’t look as if they’re going to be kind enough
to let us get off the vessel before they blow it up!”
“Then it isn’t the same crew I met!” declared Frank firmly. “They treated
the men fine! While I must admit that I don’t admire their way of sinking
merchant ships, I will have to say that they gave the people a chance to
get out of danger!”
“Well, is it the same submarine you saw?” asked Ned.
“It looks exactly like it. Besides,” the boy continued, “I see the
figures ‘U-13’ painted on the side of this one, too. I believe it is the
very same vessel. Maybe they won’t sink us!”
With hatch closed the submarine was preparing to execute some maneuver.
Gathering speed the craft plunged ahead quickly leaving the schooner
alone. Scarcely had the bow of the sailing vessel been passed ere the
submarine was so far beneath the water as to show only the periscope.
In a moment there was but a swirl to indicate where that had been.
Presently it, too, disappeared. The “U-13” was gone.
For some time the boys stood at the rail eagerly scanning the water to
discover evidence of the submarine’s return. Their search was fruitless.
Nothing was found to indicate the presence of their late visitor. The
waves rose and fell without hint of its location.
“Oh, Captain von Kluck!” Ned called. “They have gone!”
“Vhat?” asked the captain in a tone expressing doubt.
“Yes,” continued the boy. “They have slipped back into the ocean again
and have left us. Possibly they think we’re too small for them to waste a
torpedo on. Torpedoes cost a lot of money, you know!”
“Vhell, dot’s lucky!” answered the captain, much relieved.
“Sure is!” assented Jimmie, throwing out his chest. “You see, Captain,
we’re mascots for you. We’ve brought you good luck!”
Joining in the laugh that greeted this remark the captain ordered the men
who had been at work upon the boats to cease their operations. A hand was
again posted aloft to act as lookout.
After a short consultation between von Kluck and the mate it was decided
to proceed on the course traveled by the steamer from which Frank Shaw
had recently escaped. They intended to pass between the Shetland islands
and the coast of Scotland in an attempt to make a port on the west side
of England, believing that there would be less danger in this procedure.
Accordingly all sail possible was made.
As if understanding the necessity for haste the vessel leaned far over
under the press of canvas and sprang forward with increased speed.
“We ought to make the west coast of England in a short time, Captain, at
this rate,” said Ned as he noted with satisfaction the rate at which the
Lena Knobloch was traveling through the water.
“I don’d know!” declared von Kluck. “Dere’s nasty vedder oop dere!” he
added, pointing to the western sky. “I don’d like id!”
“It can’t very well blow hard enough to stop us, can it?”
“Don’d you tink it can’t blow hard in dese vatters! Ask me—I know!”
replied the captain sagely wagging his head.
With eager looks the boys watched the gathering clouds to westward. The
captain’s prediction seemed about to be verified.
An uncommonly strong puff of wind struck the schooner heeling her far
over to starboard. The blast bore a chill as of ice.
“Oh, boys,” cried Jimmie turning his head away from the biting blast,
“look up to windward and see how smooth the ocean is getting!”
“That’s wind coming!” shouted Ned.
An order was roared out by von Kluck. Men sprang to the lines. The sails
were stowed with a speed that seemed scarcely credible. Heeling round on
a port helm the Lena Knobloch turned from the approaching blast.
Leaving only the shortened jib von Kluck and the mate stood on the after
deck peering anxiously at the violent disturbance overtaking the little
vessel. Now and again the mate glanced apprehensively at the schooner’s
masts or along the decks.
With a shriek the storm struck. For a moment the very weight of wind
seemed to settle the schooner farther into the water. The next instant
they were tearing along with the speed of a race horse.
Flattened by the pressure of the wind the waves no longer gave her
motion. By reason of her being headed directly away from the blast the
schooner rode on an even keel. Every line, every shroud hummed like the
strings of a gigantic harp. The noise was terrific.
A glance at the compass in the binnacle showed Ned that they were headed
nearly northeast. They were fast leaving England astern.
Conversation was almost impossible in the howling gale that tore and
fretted at the vessel. Yet Ned managed to shout to the captain:
“How much sea room have we got in this direction?”
A shrug of the shoulders indicated the captain’s doubt. He accompanied
this movement with a wagging of the head.
“Vhe’ll get into der lee of somedings bretty soon,” he replied.
“I surely hope so!” declared Ned, cupping his hands to carry his voice to
the other’s ear. “I’d hate to hit anything at this rate!”
Nodding an acknowledgment to this assertion the captain by signs
indicated to the mate that he desired a hand sent aloft as lookout.
In a short time it seemed to the boys that the terrific force of the gale
had somewhat spent itself. Waves began to toss the vessel at an alarming
rate. Each mountain of water appeared about to board the schooner at the
stern, threatening to crush the craft by its weight.
Anxious for the safety of the vessel and for their own welfare the lads,
nevertheless, understood that they could do little good on deck. They,
therefore, made their way into the cabin, where they sat on lockers.
Here the noises of the tempest were somewhat stilled, but the creaking
and groaning of the timbers was far more noticeable. It seemed to the
lads that the vessel was being torn asunder by every billow.
“I wonder what weather the old ‘U-13’ is making of it about now?” said
Frank, as the boys grouped themselves about the little table.
“She’s in smoother water than this, I’ll venture to say,” put in Jimmie,
clutching the edge of the table in an effort to support himself.
“If they are not in better water than this,” remarked Harry, “they’re
getting shaken up some! I’d like to be under water right now!”
“Why, Harry,” spoke up Ned, “you shouldn’t say that!”
“I mean in a tight little submarine!” explained Harry.
“I wish we had the Sea Lion over here!” cried Jimmie. “We could have more
fun than we had when we tried to rescue the papers out of that ship in
the Gulf of Tong King with Moore and his nosey son butting in!”
“That was sure some fine boat!” declared Ned. “Just as easy to ride in as
a rocking chair. And it was always smooth and—”
The boy’s speech was cut short by a violent roll of the vessel. All the
lads were thrown in a heap to the cabin floor. Directly the schooner
righted herself, but began pitching with a violent motion. From the
sounds the boys knew that the captain had hove to, bringing the vessel
into the wind. Apparently he intended riding out the storm.
Waves were breaking over the bows, falling with tremendous blows upon the
forward deck. The scuppers were not able to release the flood.
Suddenly a terrific crash sounded directly beneath the cabin floor. The
stern seemed to lift bodily into the air. A shudder ran through the
fabric. Again the boys fell to the deck.