A STRUGGLE IN THE SEA
Hope rose in Zaidos’ bosom. He gave a sigh of relief. The boat was
only a couple of miles distant, and coming full steam ahead. Something
bumped heavily against Zaidos’ shoulder. It was a dead soldier. A
gaping water-soaked wound on his head sagged open, and told the
story as plainly as words could do. He was supported by a life belt
carelessly strapped around him. The body pressed against Zaidos,
bumping him gently as it moved in the wash of the sea.
Still holding Velo with his left arm, Zaidos unbuckled the single
strap that held the life belt and the body, released, slipped down into
the water and disappeared. Zaidos, treading water as hard as he could,
next managed to get the belt around Velo and buckled it. He fastened
it so high that Velo’s head was supported well out of the water; and
Zaidos let himself down in the water with a gasp of relief. He felt
that he was good for hours now. Keeping a hand on the strap of the
belt, he turned on his back and floated. The water was warm, there was
a hot sun shining, and with the Red Cross ship approaching, Zaidos felt
that he was indeed lucky.
He felt no uneasiness about the Red Cross ship changing its direction;
the sea about was full of wreckage and men swimming and clinging to
spars and timbers. It was not as though he and Velo had been alone
there in the sea. The Red Cross ship had no doubt seen the explosion
and sinking of the transport. So Zaidos floated easily beside his
unconscious companion, occasionally calling to some hardy swimmer who
came near, and expecting soon to see the rescuing vessel approach. Velo
opened his eyes, felt the lap of the waves round his shoulders, and
gave a convulsive leap out of the sea.
“Had a good nap?” asked Zaidos.
Velo groaned. “I am going to die,” he said.
“Not just yet,” Zaidos assured him. “I wish you would have a little
more courage,” he said crossly. “You are in the _greatest_ luck. The
transport is gone, with all her officers and nearly all of the men.
I don’t suppose there are more than six or eight hundred afloat out
of the three thousand on board. Look over there, Velo. There is a Red
Cross ship coming along. She will pick us up, and then we will be all
right.”
Velo looked eagerly and gave a cry of dismay.
“Oh, oh, _oh_!” he screamed. “We are lost; we are lost!” He burst into
tears.
Zaidos rolled over and looked.
When you are in the water, as every Boy Scout knows, every object
afloat looks mountainous. A common rowboat looms up like a three
master, and Zaidos, looking in the direction of the Red Cross ship,
saw a couple of battleships approaching, while a huge Zeppelin like a
great bird of prey floated overhead. How many submarines were playing
around beneath him, he could not guess. One thing was clear. They were
in a position stranger than any story, madder than any dream. Floating
there, almost exhausted in the sea, they were to be in the center of a
sea fight. Velo still wept, and Zaidos himself felt a sob of excitement
choke his throat.
“We are going to get it from both sides,” he remarked to his cousin.
“That Red Cross ship is trying to get out of range until this thing is
over.”
“What is going to become of us?” cried Velo.
“Don’t know!” said Zaidos. “And I don’t so much care. At least I don’t
mean to worry. I’ve watched a lot of poor swimmers go down just from
exhaustion; and if we are not rescued, why, we just _won’t_, that’s
all. I’ll tell you one thing, though,” he said with sudden anger, “if
you don’t brace up and stop making me listen to your whimpering, I am
going to duck you again. I did it before when you were trying to drown
us both and I am perfectly willing to do it again. You had better brace
up!”
Velo was silent, and Zaidos fixed his eyes on the most amazing sight
that a Scout ever witnessed.
Suddenly a wild shot ripped across the water, skipped along twenty feet
from them, plowed its way into the sea, then disappeared.
Velo screamed. Another shot followed so close that the wave from it
rocked them. Zaidos watched the Zeppelin with fascinated eyes. It
circled round and round, in an effort to get over the biggest ship.
A shot leaped up at it, and missed. The Zeppelin rose a little, then
returned to the attack. Another shot narrowly missed it; but at that
instant a bomb dropped like a plummet. It was a close miss. Zaidos
could see wood fly as it clipped the prow and exploded as it reached
the sea, doing but little damage.
“Look! Look!” cried Velo.
Another battleship was coming, and another, until before them five
great monsters battled. The Zeppelin returned to the attack, and
Zaidos himself cried, “Look! Look!” as a swift gleam of light across
the water, on a line with his eyes, betrayed the lightning swift
course of a torpedo. It struck the ship, and at the same moment the
Zeppelin dropped an accurate bomb. There was a terrific explosion as
the torpedo struck amidships, a spurt of flame as the bomb scattered
its inflammable gases over the decks, and fire burst out everywhere.
Another torpedo tore into the ship. Zaidos’ eyes bulged as he watched
the monster ship flaming and roaring with repeated explosions, her own
guns valiantly firing to the last. As she plunged nose-first into the
sea, the boys could see the crew, like ants, pouring, leaping over the
side, only to go down in the vast whirlpool made by the sinking vessel.
The Zeppelin now soared skyward, made a wide circle that took it
almost out of sight, and returned to attack another ship. Then a
strange thing happened. The upleaping shot from the battleship crossed
the bomb from the Zeppelin in mid-air, and as the bomb exploded on the
deck of the cruiser, the shell from her aeroplane gun hit the delicate
body of the airship and tore through it. As the Zeppelin came whirling
down, turning over and over in the air, Zaidos could see the crew
spilling out like little black pills out of a torn box. That they were
men, human beings whirling to a dreadful death, did not occur to him.
He had lost all sense of human values in the terrible pageant before
him.
It seemed like a picture show, only with the vivid colors of reality
and the deafening noise of exploding shells. Once they felt the
submarine pass under them, so close that it made an eddy that pulled
them toward the combating ships. When it came up to release its dart,
the boys were too intent on keeping themselves enough out of the
sea wash to breathe, to see whether the torpedo struck or not. The
excitement grew in intensity. Gradually the group of fighting ships
drew nearer the swimmers. They were not more than half a mile away.
Another great hulk went down. The Zeppelin, with broken wings wide
spread, floated on the sea. They could scarcely see it except when a
wave made by a falling shell lifted some of its delicate framework.
“There goes another ship!” exclaimed Zaidos. “I wish I could tell what
they are. I can’t see any flags or emblems from here.”
“I don’t care what becomes of them,” Velo said irritably. “I’m
water-soaked. I feel queer. I’ll never get out of this.”
“Oh, brace up!” cried Zaidos, speaking in English. He reflected that
Velo could not understand a word of the language, and proceeded to give
vent to his feelings in a tongue that he had found extremely expressive
in times of need. He glared at the drooping boy, while the guns
continued to thunder.
“You make me sick! You make me tired!” he exploded. “Great Scott, you
are the worst baby I ever saw! I wish to goodness you were wherever
you want to be, wrapped up in cotton batting, I suppose, and tied with
pink string, and laid on a shelf in a safety deposit vault. You are
a regular jelly fish! I wish I had some fellow along who had a real
spine! I--” he paused for breath.
“I don’t know what you are saying,” complained Velo.
“It doesn’t matter,” said Zaidos in Greek. “It was nothing of
consequence. I think I told you once or twice before just about what I
thought about things. If you feel better to whimper around all the time
and complain about things, why, go ahead! I suppose we _will_ drown.
I’m getting pretty tired myself, but I mean to hang on as long as I can.
“If this fight ends before nightfall, that Red Cross ship is sure to
come back and pick up all they can, and you can see for yourself just
the position it is in now. It can’t get to the battleships without
coming past us. So we have a good chance. I’ve been in the water longer
than this without much damage. But I wish you could manage to keep
yourself together, Velo. I’m sure we will come out all right. I’m not
going to die now, before I have a chance to do something worth while.”
He shook the water from his face.
“Well, I believe they are going to quit,” he said. “I wonder how many
fellows have seen anything like this. Three dreadnaughts and a Zeppelin
sunk and wrecked, and I don’t know which is which or who is who. It
doesn’t much matter to us, however. However long or short I live, I’ll
never forget it. Never! Just think of it, Velo; three ships of the
line, and a flyer.” He turned to the opposite direction, scanning the
sea with keen eyes.
“Yes, sure enough, here comes the Red Cross! The fight is over. She is
going to pass us. That’s pretty fine, isn’t it, Velo? Don’t that make
you feel warm all over?”
“She may not stop,” said Velo gloomily.
“A Red Cross ship pass all this bunch swimming around here without
stopping to pick them up? You are crazy!”
“There are not so very many,” insisted Velo.
“They will stop to pick you up if all the rest of us go down before
they get here,” said Zaidos patiently. “You have the life belt, Velo,
so don’t worry any more than you have to.”
A silence followed. After the wild racket of the guns, it seemed as
though the sea itself whispered. On and on came the Red Cross ship.
It approached so near that they could see that a couple of boats
were being lowered. They were gasoline launches, and they raced here
and there, pausing every little while to pick up a survivor. As they
approached Zaidos and his cousin, Velo commenced to scream in a weak
voice. Zaidos sighed, but said nothing.
When the nearest launch approached them, Velo thrust him back and left
him swimming while he, with his life belt, was lifted over the side.
But a sailor had Zaidos by the shoulder. It was well, for the boy was
at the point of exhaustion, and as he felt himself drawn into the boat,
he found a sudden darkness settle over everything, and he sank back
unconscious into the arms of a doctor.
When he opened his eyes, he was in the clean, airy, floating hospital.
It took a little thought for Zaidos to recollect where he was. When he
did so, he made an effort to arise. To his great surprise, he could not
move. He threw back the covers. His leg was in splints. He stared at it
with surprise.
A nurse came up. “How did that happen?” he demanded. “What ails my leg
anyhow?”
“You ought to know,” she smiled. “We expect you to tell us. Your leg is
broken below the knee. Just the small bone, you know. Do you mean to
say you did not know it?”
“I should say not!” said Zaidos. “You are sure it is broken? It hurts a
lot, but I don’t see how it could be broken without my knowing it.”
“Yes, it is certainly broken,” the nurse repeated.
“Oh, you are talking English, aren’t you?” cried Zaidos with delight.
“Why, yes. This is an English Red Cross ship,” replied the nurse. “You
are English, are you not? Or American?”
Zaidos shook his head. “No, I’m a Greek,” he explained. “But I’ve
been in America at school since I was a little chap, and I have had an
English room-mate for three years.”
“That’s it, then,” said the nurse. “You must not talk now, however. You
must drink this and sleep if you can. There are a lot of badly hurt men
here. _You_ are all right, but pretty well water-soaked and tired out.
Try to sleep.”
She started on, but Zaidos put out his hand and detained her.
“Just a moment, please,” he said, smiling at her in his sunny way. “Is
there a fellow here called Velo Kupenol? Tall fellow, thin, and looks a
little like me perhaps?”
“Perhaps not again,” said the nurse, frowning a little. “Yes, your
friend is here. He does not seem to have anything the matter with him,
yet he acts like a very sick boy.”
“Seems to enjoy poor health?” asked Zaidos, smiling. “Well, I myself
can’t really blame him. You don’t know how very _wet_ we felt! I feel
as though I could lie here a week and enjoy these dry sheets.”
“You will be very likely to do so whether you enjoy it or not,” said
the nurse. “Legs do not mend in a day. When your friend thinks he is
strong enough, I will suggest his coming to visit you.”
She passed on, and Zaidos lay staring at the wooden ceiling so near his
head.
Round and round and round goes the wheel of fate, thought Zaidos.
He wondered what the next turn would be, and where it would carry him.
He drank from the cup the nurse had given him, and presently dozed off,
although his leg pained too much to allow him to get a sound sleep.
He was aroused later by voices near him, and recognized the sound of
his cousin’s voice. Velo was talking in a rapid, low tone to one of the
doctors.
“Looks like a nice boy,” said the doctor in Greek.
“Yes, he is,” said Velo. “But if he _is_ my cousin, I must say he is
one of the most stubborn fellows I have ever known.”
“Is that so?” thought Zaidos, keeping his eyes shut tight. He thought
there would be no more talk about him, but the doctor went on, “He
doesn’t look it.”
“No,” said Velo, “but he is. I thought I would never be able to rescue
him from that sinking transport. He went sort of crazy; he was so
afraid, and when the order came to jump, he clung to the rail, and
refused to move. I had to twist his hands away, and jump with him.”
“Well, I do declare!” thought Zaidos. He decided that he had better
find out just what sort of a fellow he was supposed to be anyhow.
Velo went on, “When I got him into the water, I had to take him over my
shoulder, and swim for dear life to get away from the boat before she
went down. We just made it, and at that he clung to me with such a grip
that I thought I would have to let go and leave him to his fate.”
“Queer how they hang on to one in the water,” said the doctor. “It
seems strange he does not swim.”
“Oh, he swims a little,” said Velo. “He _thinks_ he swims well, but
it does not amount to much. I got hold of a life belt and buckled it
around him, and kept his courage up as well as I could. The fight out
there nearly finished him.”
“I don’t know as I blame him,” said the doctor. “It must have been
a pretty stiff experience, especially when a shot came your way
occasionally.”
“Yes, it was exciting,” Velo agreed. He spoke with the ease of a
man accustomed to worse things. Zaidos wondered how the doctor ever
believed it all.
“Well,” he said, “I’ll have to go on. You can congratulate yourself,
young man, on having the courage and patience to stick it out and save
the lad. It is a great credit to you and I’m proud to know you.” And he
turned and walked softly away between the white bunks.
Velo remained standing near Zaidos. Presently he came over and looked
down at his cousin. Zaidos opened one eye and looked up. The other
he kept tightly closed. It gave him a teasing, guying expression of
countenance which he had many times found very irritating at school.
“Dear, _dear_ Velo,” he said with a simper, “how can I _ever_ thank
you for saving my life?”