[Illustration]
[Illustration: Half way to the shore a triangular fin came cruising near
him.]
THE
OCEAN WIRELESS BOYS
ON THE PACIFIC
BY
CAPTAIN WILBUR LAWTON
AUTHOR OF “THE BOY AVIATORS’ SERIES,” “THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS’
SERIES,” “THE OCEAN WIRELESS BOYS ON THE ATLANTIC,” “THE
OCEAN WIRELESS BOYS AND THE LOST LINER,” “THE OCEAN
WIRELESS BOYS OF THE ICEBERG PATROL,” “THE
OCEAN WIRELESS BOYS AND THE NAVAL CODE,”
ETC.
ILLUSTRATED BY
ARTHUR O. SCOTT
NEW YORK
HURST & COMPANY
PUBLISHERS
Copyright, 1916,
BY
HURST & COMPANY
CONTENTS
I. On the Broad Pacific 5
II. The Ocean in a Rage 14
III. A Long Night 20
IV. The Derelict 26
V. The “Centurion” 33
VI. A Mystery of the Seas 39
VII. An Old Enemy Oddly Met 49
VIII. “Land, Ho!” 56
IX. Through Hidden Dangers 64
X. Chumming with Savages 72
XI. The Cave of the Pearls 78
XII. A Trap! 84
XIII. On the Reef 90
XIV. Battling Man-eating Sharks 97
XV. A Message from the Deep 104
XVI. Alive on the Sea 113
XVII. An Encounter at Bomobori 119
XVIII. Donald Judson Again 126
XIX. He Tells a Strange Story 132
XX. A Traitor in Camp 143
XXI. A Memorable Night 153
XXII. Into the Jungle 164
XXIII. A Dangerous Tree 171
XXIV. Wireless at Work 178
XXV. A Jungle Hotel 186
XXVI. Prisoners of “Bully” Broom 195
XXVII. At the Old Fort 203
XXVIII. The Free-booter’s Demands 209
XXIX. The Rescue Party 216
XXX. In the Coils of a Python 224
XXXI. The Journey Resumed 236
XXXII. A Storm in the Jungle 245
XXXIII. The Giant Spiders 260
XXXIV. A Fight with a Hornbill 272
XXXV. The Heart of New Guinea 280
XXXVI. Found at Last! 292
The Ocean Wireless Boys
on the Pacific.
CHAPTER I.—ON THE BROAD PACIFIC.
Twenty days out from San Francisco in the vast, heaving desert of the
sea, twenty days of storm, sunshine and calm, the _Sea Gypsy_, the great
white yacht of Jacob Jukes, head of the big Atlantic and Pacific
Shipping Combine, was making her way lazily through the dreamy South
Seas. The vessel was capable of great speed, being known as one of the
fastest craft of her kind. But she was bound on a mission which might
take a long time to consummate, and economy of coal, which was piled
even on her decks, to re-enforce the supply in the bunkers, was
necessary.
What this mission was remained, so far, a mystery to every one on board
except Mr. Jukes himself, the iron-jawed and impenetrable organizer of
the expedition. Up to this time he had shown no inclination to unburden
himself of his secret, and although the craft was equipped with powerful
wireless of the most modern type, the yacht had received no messages,
nor had she sent any, under orders from Mr. Jukes.
On this particular evening Jack Ready leaned against the door of the
wireless-room, a converted deck cabin, and covertly watched the
heavy-shouldered, bull-necked form of the millionaire shipping man as
the latter gazed over the rail across the vacant waters at the gorgeous
sunset.
It was a true pageant of the heavens, such as is only to be seen in the
Southern ocean. Great cloud-masses rose in wondrous forms, like
glorified castle walls and turrets, glowing with purple and gold and
red. Jack found himself following Mr. Jukes’ gaze. Although such
spectacles had been almost nightly ones since they had steamed into the
tropics, there was something wild and sinister about the present one
that thrilled him.
Captain Septimus Sparhawk, the brown, gaunt captain of the yacht, whose
thin face was decorated by two little dabs of grayish whiskers forward
of each ear, passed by.
“Nothing to do but to look at the sky, eh?” he asked Jack, as a
suspicion of a smile crept over his face.
“That’s about all, sir,” rejoined Jack, with a laugh. “I expect to see
spiders spinning webs on my instruments every day. I haven’t touched the
key since we sailed.”
The captain shook his head. He was an old and loyal employee of the
shipping man, and not much given to words. But, apparently, now he felt
called upon to express himself.
“It’s a queer business, lad,” he said, “and it may get queerer still
before we find out what it’s all about. I’m as much in the dark as you
or the cabin boy. But right now that sunset worries me more than
anything else.”
“You’re on the look-out for a storm?” asked Jack, noting a sudden look
of anxiety in the captain’s pale blue eyes, surrounded by a network of
tiny wrinkles, due to long gazing into salty gales.
“Worse than that, Ready,” was the rejoinder. “This is the hurricane
season in these parts and the glass,—I’ve just taken a squint at
it,—is dropping as if it never meant to stop.”
“If I could use the wireless——” began Jack.
“We could probably get a weather reading from some other ship,”
interrupted the captain, starting off, “but as it is, we might as well
not have it on board at all. The thing’s got me stumped.”
He carried himself off on his long, thin legs but paused to speak to Mr.
Jukes. The ship-owner, although Jack could not hear what was said,
appeared to be agitated somewhat by the captain’s words, for he began
puffing rapidly at his after-dinner cigar, sending out smoke like the
exhaust of a locomotive funnel, a sure sign, as Jack had observed, that
he was disturbed.
“I’ll make all snug, sir,” the boy heard the captain say, as he turned
away, “and then we will be prepared for whatever happens.”
“Very well, Sparhawk,” answered Mr. Jukes, in a somewhat louder voice
than he had used hitherto, “and be sure to see to it that the deck load
of coal is secured safely. They tell me the bunkers are running low.”
As has been stated, the _Sea Gypsy’s_ decks were piled high fore and aft
with coal, kept in place by wooden bulkheads, which did not add to the
appearance of the ship and encumbered progress from bow to stern. Only
amidships, where the cabins were situated, was the deck clear. As the
captain ascended the bridge he turned and gave an order to a petty
officer and presently the crew could be seen at work lashing big
tarpaulins down over the coal which was so important to keep the _Sea
Gypsy_ moving on her mysterious mission.
The news that the coal supply was running low in the bunkers was a
surprise to Jack. He made for Billy Raynor’s cabin where the young chief
engineer of the yacht was writing up his “log.”
“Yes, it’s right,” he rejoined to Jack’s question, “the loss of that
deck load would be a serious matter. We’re a good many hundred miles
from land and will have to tap the supply before long.”
“Billy, what on earth do you suppose is the object of this voyage?”
demanded Jack abruptly.
“Blessed if I know, but I’m well satisfied with my promotion and job,”
declared Raynor. “Cruising these wonderful seas in a yacht that’s a
beauty, even if her decks are all littered up like a cattle boat’s, just
about suits me.”
“That’s all right, you’ve got something to do,” complained Jack. “But
look at my case. I have to polish up my instruments every day to keep
them from getting rusty.”
“Serves you right for not stopping ashore and enjoying yourself,”
chuckled Raynor teasingly. “Since you sold that ‘Universal Detector’ of
yours to the government you could surely afford to.”
“Just as if I could kick my heels on shore doing nothing,” was Jack’s
indignant reply, “but it does seem as if it’s about time we knew
something of what this voyage is for.”
“Maybe it’s just a pleasure cruise to allow Mr. Jukes to get away from
his business troubles,” hazarded Raynor.
Jack shook his head in decided negative.
“There’s more in it than that,” he declared positively. “Mr. Jukes is
first of all a man of business. He wouldn’t come skylarking across the
Pacific for three weeks if he was just out for a cruise. He’d go where
he could keep in touch with the market and Wall Street.”
“That’s so,” Raynor was compelled to agree. “Well, I suppose when he
gets ready to spill some information he’ll do it. In the meantime my job
just suits me. But what made you ask about the deck coal?”
“Because Captain Sparhawk says we’re in for a bad blow, maybe a
hurricane.”
Raynor’s usually cheerful face became suddenly serious.
“When did he say that?” he asked.
“Just now. They’re putting tarpaulins over it now. If we dropped it,
we’d be in a bad fix, eh, Billy?”
“We’d have about coal enough left for two or three days,” rejoined
Raynor.
“And after that——?”
“It would be a case of ‘merrily we drift along.’”
The door gave a sudden sharp slam. A puff of wind, sweeping suddenly
over the hitherto breathless sea, had banged it shut.
Jack jumped up and swung it quickly open again.
“Here she comes,” he cried excitedly.
At the same instant the _Sea Gypsy_ gave a sidelong lurch that sent both
lads helter-skelter across the cabin. Outside came a sudden bawling of
voices and a distant, disquieting roar that grew louder every second.