SHIPWRECK AND RESCUE
Above the noises of the tempest and the straining timbers sounded cries
from the deck that told of confusion amongst the crew. Von Kluck’s hoarse
voice was bawling out orders mixed with great sea oaths. He was driving
the men to some duty.
The tramping of feet above the boys sounded for a moment, then ceased.
Judging from the sounds they thought the men had gathered in the waist of
the vessel. Puzzled, they looked at each other in fear.
“What’s up?” inquired Jimmie, attempting to rise to his feet.
Ned steadied himself at the table as he tried to peer out of the little
skylight overhead. He could see nothing.
“We just about struck something!” declared Jimmie.
“Maybe we hit another vessel,” ventured Harry.
“Or a rock, perhaps,” continued Jack. “We surely struck something solid.
I hope we don’t hit it again like that first crack!”
“Look here, boys!” cried Ned in alarm. “The motion of this ship is much
less than it was a minute ago! Notice it?”
“It surely is!” agreed Jack. “Is the wind going down?”
“We are getting into some sort of shelter,” guessed Harry. “Probably von
Kluck has navigated the schooner behind a breakwater.”
“Boys, the ship is sinking!” shouted Ned. “See the water coming into this
cabin! We’ve struck a floating mine!”
In alarm the boys sprang to their feet. As Ned had said, the motion was
lessening rapidly. They found little difficulty now in keeping their
footing without support. With one accord they made a break for the
companionway, crowding out in a body.
The sight that met their gaze brought consternation to every heart.
The schooner lay head to the wind. The mainsail had been set with a
double reef, to help keep the vessel in that position. The seas seemed
alarmingly higher than when they had been last on deck.
This was due, of course, to the difference in perspective, owing to the
fact that they were fast settling into the water.
Above the stern clung traces of heavy, black smoke. A disagreeable odor
pervaded the atmosphere in spite of the strong wind.
“There goes von Kluck and the crew!” shouted Harry, pointing to leeward.
“They’re scared to death. That mine settled them!”
A short distance away the boys could see the larger of the two boats that
had been carried by the schooner. In it were the members of the crew,
accompanied by the captain and the mate.
Tossed about by the angry waters the little shell seemed about to be
engulfed at any moment. However, skillful hands were at the oars. Rising
and falling, now on top of a wave, now out of sight, the boat soon put
considerable distance between the two parties.
“Well, Great Frozen Hot Boxes!” exclaimed Jimmie in disgust. “What do you
know about that? They’ve gone and left us!”
“And the ship is settling fast!” cried Ned, in alarm. “We’d better get
busy if we don’t want to go down with it!”
“What can we do?” asked Harry. “The boat’s gone!”
“Suppose we try to patch up the leak,” suggested Jimmie. “Maybe we could
keep the old tub afloat until the storm dies down!”
“No chance!” decided Ned. “Von Kluck and his crew would have done that if
they could. We’d better get busy!”
“What’s the matter with using the small boat at the stern?”
“That’s a good idea unless it is broken too badly. Let’s have a look at
it anyway,” replied Ned, hastening toward the stern.
A brief examination of the small boat indicated that it would be more
seaworthy than the hull upon which they were standing. No time was lost
in preparations for launching the craft.
“When folks get shipwrecked,” suggested Jimmie, “don’t they take water
and food with them if they have it?”
“They surely do, little man!” cried Ned. “Hustle about and see what you
can get. Try to find something in which to carry fresh water.”
Jimmie dashed back into the cabin to raid the pantry. There he found the
water gaining rapidly. It was almost knee deep.
Splashing his way about with the aid of the swinging lamp the boy found
several loaves of the hard, black bread with which the vessel was
provisioned. These he wrapped in an oilskin coat from the captain’s room.
He tucked the parcel under one arm. With his free hand he seized a huge
piece of the captain’s beloved cheese.
Hastening quickly to the deck he deposited his burden in the boat.
Another trip to the cabin failed to locate any vessel in which fresh
water could be carried. The boy then dashed forward to the galley.
There he found a huge kettle used by the cook for boiling beef. This
Jimmie filled with water from the barrel on deck. The cover of the kettle
was provided with a clever device for fastening it in place. This Jimmie
secured, then staggered toward the stern with his burden.
Working with desperate speed the four boys had succeeded in launching the
small boat. It now hung bobbing about to a short length of painter under
the schooner’s stern. It was not far below the taffrail.
Ned and Harry made a hurried trip to the cabin to secure the kits,
returning just as Jimmie succeeded in placing his kettle of water aboard.
“Hurry up, Ned,” cautioned Jack. “The little wagon is just about to say
‘Goodby’! We’ll have to go some to escape the suction!”
“All aboard!” replied Ned, tossing his kit into the boat.
Harry pitched the luggage he was carrying to waiting hands. Both boys
then watched for an opportune moment when the small boat swung close to
the sinking stern. A quick leap carried them safely aboard.
“Oh, I forgot!” cried Ned. “I was going to bring the compass!”
“Never mind the compass now, Ned!” cried Jimmie, seizing an oar.
“No,” put in Frank, “we don’t know where we are at anyhow, and the
compass wouldn’t be of any use to us in such a case as this!”
“Goodby, Lena Garlic!” shouted Jimmie a moment later as he pulled
manfully at the oar. “Goodby and good luck!”
The others turned to see the schooner now with decks awash. A loud
detonation marked the blowing off of the hatches by the compressed air in
the hold. That incident seemed to mark the passage of the vessel.
Gradually settling by the stern the schooner quietly slipped backward,
settling deeper and deeper, until a large wave overwhelmed the craft,
leaving only the masts projecting above water. In another instant these,
too, had disappeared, leaving but a few floating pieces of wreckage to
mark the spot where the boys had only a short time before been standing.
“And goodby, Grey Eagle!” almost sobbed Ned. “No more flying in that
little airship! I wish we could have saved the machine!”
This seemed to be the sentiment of all, but they knew that their sturdy
aeroplane was now gone forever.
“The Germans needn’t think we’ll ever trouble them again in that
airship!” declared Jimmie. “We can’t be pinched for that!”
For a moment the disappointment of their recent experiences sat heavily
on all the lads. At length, however, Ned roused himself and tried to
cheer his comrades. He knew that nothing could be gained by bemoaning the
fate that had happened to them.
“We can’t be far from land,” the lad stated presently. “Von Kluck and his
crew seemed to be heading the same way we are. They evidently knew about
where they were and have made for the nearest port.”
“Let’s keep right on after them, then,” suggested Frank.
“Second the motion!” panted Jimmie, straining at his oar. “But this is
hot work! Wish I had a drink of water!”
“You’ll have to go slow on the water, boys,” cautioned Ned. “That kettle
holds only about three gallons, and we can’t drink sea water.”
“Let me take the oar a while, Jimmie,” volunteered Harry. “I guess you’ve
worked about hard enough, anyway. You rest a bit.”
Cautiously the boys changed places. What with their kits, the bundle
of bread and the cheese the little boat was carrying all that could
be conveniently stowed. They were glad that no more had remained to
accompany them. Soon all had settled themselves quite comfortably.
“Now,” spoke up Jack, presently, “all we’ve got to do is to let this wind
blow us along. We’ll just keep the boat straightened into the seas and
take it easy. We can’t do a thing to help matters.”
“Right you are, Scout!” agreed Jimmie. “I think it’s getting gray over
there,” the lad continued, pointing toward the east. “Morning will be
along shortly and we can see what time it is.”
“Maybe we’ll meet some ship that will pick us up,” ventured Harry,
hopefully. “There are plenty of vessels in these parts.”
“I see a smoke astern of us now, I think!” declared Frank. “It seems to
be from a vessel low in the water.”
“Let me take a look,” cried Ned, standing and balancing himself by
clinging to Jimmie’s shoulder. “Yes, I can see it, too! It seems to be
overhauling us quite rapidly,” he added. “Maybe they’ll help us!”
Ceasing their efforts to propel the boat the boys handled the oars only
enough to keep their tiny craft properly riding the seas.
“It looks to me like a tug!” stated Jimmie, presently.
“A tug wouldn’t come smashing along at that rate!” objected Ned.
“Well, then, what can it be?” queried the other. “It is too low in the
water for a battleship and no freight steamer ever made such good time as
they are clipping off! They’re coming up fast!”
The boys were not long left in doubt. Rapidly overhauling them the
strange vessel did, indeed, seem to be at first glance a tug tearing
along through the waves at a great rate. The bow was lost in a smother of
foam and spray. But a tiny speck of deck house was visible. The stacks
were low. Great billows of black smoke vomited forth from the short
funnels came drifting down the wind.
In a short time the vessel approached near enough so that the boys could
distinguish a small gun mounted at the bow.
“I know what that ship is!” announced Jimmie, directly. “That’s what they
call a torpedo boat destroyer or despatch boat!”
“I believe you’re right, Jimmie,” decided Ned. “They certainly have got
the speed!” he added admiringly as the craft approached.
“Get ready to hail ’em!” cried Frank. “Get out a flag!”
“Haven’t got a flag aboard this wagon!” scorned Jimmie. “What do you
think this is—a dreadnaught with full equipment?”
“Then take off your shirt and wave that at ’em!”
“Just the idea!” agreed Jimmie, proceeding to follow the advice.
Bracing himself against a thwart amidships Jimmie waved the improvised
distress signal. His efforts were not unavailing.
“They see you, Jimmie!” shouted Jack, presently. “There’s a man on the
bridge looking at you with glasses. They’re shifting the helm!”
“I can see two or three men standing on the bridge!” announced Ned. “They
are examining us pretty closely. Wonder who they are?”
The boys were not long left in doubt. Way was checked on the stranger.
As the vessel drew close to the small boat a churning of foam at the
stern told the lads that the engines were reversed in an effort to stop.
Presently the stranger ranged alongside. A line was flung to the boys.
They were towed beside the other under bare steerageway.
Fending their craft off the larger vessel Ned explained their plight to
an officer. They were invited aboard the steamer. Their boat was hoisted
aboard, where it was carefully stowed.
The lads found themselves upon the steel deck of a peculiarly long
and narrow vessel. Guns were mounted forward and aft. Only a cursory
examination was necessary to determine that they were quick firers.
“Now, boys,” said the officer who had invited them aboard, “I shall ask
you to step to the cabin. The commander will hear your story.”
As the boys entered the cabin in response to the other’s request they saw
a familiar face. Beside the commander seated at the table was none other
than their one time acquaintance, Mackinder.