THE SPORT OF THE ELEMENTS
“Just what I expected!” exclaimed George, when he heard what Jack had to
say.
“Will the boat upset, do you think?” bellowed Buster, as he fancied he
could feel the craft already tilting dangerously, so that he “sidled”
across to the other side of the crowded little cabin.
“Oh! I hardly think it’ll be as bad as that,” the commodore told him;
“but while we’re about it we’d better fasten on these life preservers!”
They had discovered half a dozen cork belts under one of the lockers,
and these Jack proceeded to hastily throw out. Every fellow was
immediately engaged in trying to buckle one about his person, well up
under the arms.
The thunder bellowed at quick intervals, so that talking could only be
indulged in between these outbursts. It was almost dark inside the cabin
of the rocking boat, and of course the boys were all very much excited,
not knowing what was going to happen at the next minute.
“Be sure to get it up under your arms, Buster,” warned Jack, while he
worked.
“Yes,” added Josh, who could be sarcastic even when confronted by such
danger, “for if the old thing slips down any it’ll keep your feet out,
and your head under water. Better put two more on you, Buster, because
you’re a heavyweight, you know.”
Perhaps Josh was joking when he said this, but Buster took it all
solemnly enough.
“Guess I will, if the rest of you don’t need ’em!” he declared. “If
you’re done fixin’ yours Josh, _please_ lend me a hand. I don’t seem
able to get the fastening the right way. Oh! we nearly went over that
time, didn’t we?”
“Keep still, Buster, and quit trying to balance the boat!” urged George;
“your weight won’t matter a bean if she’s bound to turn turtle; and you
nearly smashed my foot that time, you came down on it so hard. Talk to
me about a sportive elephant, it isn’t in the same class with you when
you get excited.”
“Here, I’ll try and fix you up, Buster, if only you keep quiet a spell,”
Josh told him, and between the two mentors Buster resolved to bear up
and show a brave front.
Jack was peeping out as if hoping to see some sign of the storm
breaking. The boat meanwhile was wallowing dreadfully, showing that by
degrees she must be turning sideways to the waves and the wind, the
latter still blowing “great guns.”
A vivid flash came just when Jack had the tarpaulin drawn aside, and
made Buster give a loud cry.
“Oh, what a scorcher!” he exclaimed; “I thought I was struck at first.”
The speedy crash that followed drowned the rest of his words.
“Any hope of its being over soon, Jack?” demanded Josh, as soon as he
could make himself heard.
“Nothing doing that I could see,” came the loud reply, for what with the
howl of the wind and the dash of the agitated waters against the boat it
was no easy matter to make oneself heard. “All black around. You can’t
see twenty feet away for the rain and the gloom.”
“Jack, do you happen to know whether there’s any rapids or falls along
the Danube?” asked George presently.
“I’m not so sure about it,” replied the other; “seems to me I did hear
some talk about rapids or falls or something, though it may have been
about the river away up above Vienna.”
Buster at that found himself possessed with a new cause for alarm. He
pictured Niagara Falls, and the powerboat plunging over the beetling
brink, with four boys he knew full well fastened in its interior,
helpless victims. Then as the mood changed he could see Whirlpool Rapids
below the falls, through which no ordinary boat had been known to pass
safely, but always emerged in splinters, after buffeting the half-hidden
sharp-pointed rocks, and urged on by the frightful current.
“Listen! I thought I heard a distant roaring sound just then that might
be the falls, fellows!” Buster broke out with.
Although the others all suspected that it was only the result of a
lively imagination that caused him to say this, at the same time they
could not help straining their hearing to ascertain whether there could
be any truth in it.
“You fooled yourself that time, Buster,” announced George finally, and
with a vein of positive relief in his voice; “it must have been the rain
coming down like a cloud-burst, or else the wind tearing through some
trees ashore.”
The action of the boat continued to cause more or less anxiety.
Frequently when the wind struck savagely on the counter of the wallowing
craft it would careen over so far that even Jack feared a catastrophe
was impending.
Everything conspired to cause alarm--the darkness, the heavy crash of
thunder, the blinding flashes of lightning that stabbed the gloom so
suddenly, and the possibility of the boat turning turtle.
In the midst of this Jack was seen to be crawling out of the cover.
“What are you going to do?” shouted Josh.
“All of us have forgotten that we’ve got an anchor forward,” Jack told
him; “I’m going to drop it over. It may take hold; and anyway it’s bound
to keep our head into the storm by dragging!”
“Let me help you, Jack!” added Josh with his usual impulsiveness.
“You may come along, but no one else,” he was told.
Of course, that was aimed primarily at Buster, for Jack could not forget
how clumsy the fat chum always proved himself to be; and the chances
were that he would manage to fall overboard did he attempt to crawl
along the slippery sloping deck.
Once outside and Josh realized what a difficult thing it was going to be
to get forward to where the anchor might be found. The little boat
rolled and tossed like a chip on the angry seas. Josh felt almost dizzy
with the motion, but he shut his teeth grimly together and resolved to
stick it out to the end. If Jack could stand it surely he should be able
to do the same. Besides, he would sooner die almost than let George see
him show the white feather.
“Get a good hold before you move each time,” called Jack in his ear;
“and better grab me if you find yourself going!”
That was just like Jack’s generous nature; he thought nothing of the
added risk he was assuming when he gave Josh this advice.
Josh would never be apt to forget that exciting experience as long as
he lived. Except when the lightning came it was as impossible to see
anything as though they were in the midst of a dark night; and even
then all they could detect was what seemed to be a wall of gray fog
enveloping them on every side, with the white-capped waves leaping and
tossing like hungry wolves around them.
Of course, both boys were immediately drenched, but of this they thought
nothing. Both had their coats off at the time, on account of the
afternoon heat, which turned out to be a lucky thing for them, since
their movements were apt to be less fettered and confined in consequence.
Foot by foot they made their way forward. Jack’s advice to always retain
one grip until the other hand could take hold of something ahead saved
Josh more than once from being thrown overboard. A little recklessness
would have cost him dear in a case like that.
Finally Jack seemed to have gained his end, for he was bending down over
the anchor when a flash of lightning enabled the other boy to see him
again. Josh, determined to have a hand in casting the mudhook overboard,
hastened to join him.
“The end of the cable is fast all right, is it, Jack?” he shouted, as
together they took hold of the rusty iron anchor.
“Yes. I made sure of that before we started, and tested the cable in the
bargain,” he was instantly assured.
It was a good thing some one had been so careful, for Josh himself had
evidently not given the matter a single thought.
“Look out not to get a leg tangled in the rope, Josh!” shouted Jack.
“I will, all right!” the other replied, knowing that in such an event he
would be dragged overboard like a flash.
So the anchor was let go.
There was no result until the whole of the cable had been paid out. Jack
waited anxiously to see what followed, though he knew fairly well it
would steady the drifting boat and turn the bow into the storm again.
Both of them felt the sudden jerk that announced the expected event.
“She’s turning right away, Jack!” bellowed Josh, trying to make himself
heard above the heavy boom of the thunder’s growl.
There could be no doubt on that score, for already the motions of the
runaway motorboat seemed to be much less violent. Jack believed his
scheme was going to be a success, and it pleased him to know that his
wetting would not have been taken for nothing.
They lingered no longer, but started back toward the stern. It was not
quite so difficult now to creep along the slippery deck, holding on to
the cabin roof, and finally reaching the open well in the stern. A head
was in sight, showing that one of the anxious chums could not rest easy
until he learned what the result of the venture had been.
“You must have done it, fellows!” exclaimed Buster, for it was no other
than the stout boy who had thrust his head out like a tortoise, “because
she rides so much easier now. I knew Jack’d manage it if anybody could.”
Drenched as they were, the two boys had to drop down under the
tarpaulin. After all, that was a minor matter, since by their bold
action they had warded off what might have turned out to be a grave
disaster.
“Let her blow and thunder all she wants to now,” said Josh triumphantly;
“we’ve got the anchor trailing from the bow, and that’s going to keep
her nose in the wind. I’ve read how a vessel nearly going down in a
hurricane has been saved by making a storm anchor out of hatches, or
anything else that will float, and towing the same behind to keep the
ship steady. That’s what _we_ did, you see.”
Josh was more than glad now he had insisted on accompanying the
commodore in attempting to carry out his hazardous undertaking. It
would give him an opportunity to swell with importance whenever the
deed was mentioned, and to use the magical word “we” in speaking of
the adventure. What boy is there who does not like to feel that he
personally partook of the danger when brave things were undertaken and
accomplished?
After that they settled down to wait. The storm must surely come to an
end before a great while, and as they were now moving at less than
one-half the mad pace they had been going before that drag had been
instituted, it seemed perfectly safe even to Buster.
“All I hope for now is that we don’t run afoul of some half-sunken rock,
or it may be a snag!” Josh was heard to say.
“We do know there are snags floating along, because you remember I
struck one only yesterday,” ventured Buster, referring, of course, to
the log which, by catching his trailing fish hook, had dragged him
overboard.
“Not much danger of that,” Jack assured them; “they keep a pretty clear
channel over here, it seems, even if we haven’t met steamboats on the
river like you would on the Mississippi. Given another ten minutes or so
and I think we’ll see the break in the storm we expect. It can hardly
last much longer now.”
“Must have done some damage ashore, too, boys?” suggested George.
“So long as it hasn’t killed off all the chickens, so we can’t get any
more eggs, that doesn’t really concern us, I s’pose,” said Buster, not
meaning to be unfeeling in the least, but just then that seemed to be in
the nature of a calamity in his mind.
Slowly the time passed, but the boys were soon delighted to discover
that there was actually a slackening up of the elements that had
combined to make such a furious discord. The thunder became less
boisterous, the wind lulled perceptibly, and even the waves had lost
much of their force.
Jack, taking an observation, made an important discovery, and followed
it with an announcement that gave his comrades considerable pleasure.
“There’s a break in the storm clouds over there in the west, boys, and I
guess we’ve got to the end of this trouble!”
“With no damage done except a wetting for two of us,” added Josh, trying
to act as though that counted for next to nothing, considering the
benefits that had probably sprung from the work of Jack and himself.
“Why, it seems to me the rain has let up, too, Jack!” exclaimed Buster,
forcing his head through the opening in the tarpaulin cover of the well.
“In a few minutes more we can get rid of this old thing and breathe free
once more,” Jack told him.
“Well, I’m sure I’ll be mighty glad,” said Buster, “because I’m nearly
stewed as it is, with the heat below here; and that breeze feels mighty
good to me. It won’t be near as warm after this storm, that’s sure.”
“Like as not, Buster,” advised Josh, shivering a little because of his
wet condition, “we’ll all be frozen stiff before an hour goes by. Queer
things happen over in this Danube country, I’m told.”
“Rats! You can’t scare me, Josh,” Buster immediately informed him;
“course, since you’re all wet through and through _you_ might freeze,
but not a healthy specimen like me. This time we’ll have to make a fire
for you other fellows, if we can find enough dry wood to burn, that is.”
Jack’s prediction was soon fulfilled. The break in the storm clouds grew
rapidly in magnitude until quite a large sized patch of blue sky became
visible. They soon had the tarpaulin dragged on top of the cabin roof to
dry out; and when the sun appeared the pair who had been drenched took
positive delight in sprawling there and letting the warm rays start
drying their garments on them.
“Well, seems like we got through that scrape O. K.,” ventured Buster;
“but we’re not yet out of the woods by a big lot. We’ve got a broken
engine on our hands, and no means of fixing the same, even if we knew
how to do it. What’s to be done now, Commodore Jack?”
Somehow the others always thought to give Jack his full title when
relying on him to get them out of a scrape. But Jack let this significant
fact pass, for he knew these three chums from the ground up, and could
not hold a single thing against any one of them. And, as usual, he had a
remedy ready for every disease.