A MYSTERIOUS CRAFT.
A more careful examination showed that they had not underestimated
the seriousness of the loss of the motive fluid. Moreover, in
reviewing the situation, it became apparent that unless they made for
Honolulu, which port was still a great distance off, they would not
be able to renew their supply.
Still more alarming was the prospect involving the food supply.
Under power, as the "Nomad" had been provisioned for the voyage down
the coast, they would have had enough and to spare. But depending on
sail for driving them along it was doubtful if the provisions would
last nearly all the distance.
In fact, after a consultation had been held in the cabin, they had to
own, with what bitterness you may suppose, that the expedition must
be abandoned and a return for the California coast begun. Even at
that, if they met contrary winds it might be days before they reached
it.
The sleep of those on board the "Nomad" that night was broken and
disturbed. Little was said after the decision to abandon the chase
of the schooner had been reached. But how all felt about it could
have been seen before they retired, by their gloomy countenances and
voices. It was in truth a sad blow to them all. Even Cal, who, as
has been said, had no great love for the water, took a keen interest
in the object of the voyage, namely to bring the wrongdoers to book.
He was heartily disgusted at this termination to all their plans. As
for Sam Hinckley, the engineer, he sat in silence in his motionless,
silent engine room, gloomily staring at his unmoving engines.
Such was the state of mind of all on board when, at dawn the next
day, Joe Hartley, who was at the wheel, brought all hands up out of
the cabin in all stages of dress and undress by a cry of:
"Sail ho!"
The "Nomad" was staggering along under her canvas, making a pretty
picture, but gaining woefully few miles. Her build was not adapted
for sailing and her progress was snail-like. At the rate she was
going it might be weeks even before the coast was sighted.
The sail that Joe had seen was as yet some distance off, and, as well
as could be made out, it was a schooner.
"What if she should be the 'Nettie Nelsen'?" wondered Nat.
"Well," rejoined Cal grimly, "I reckon we'd have nothing much to fear
from those chaps in a fair fight. They're all right when they kin
make use of treachery and deceit, but in a square scrap they are no
account. I reckon we proved that when the posse rounded 'em up in
the canyon."
"That is so," agreed Nat, and in this opinion the others concurred.
Just the same, it gave them queer little thrills to think that by a
strange chance they might be coming to close quarters with the men
who had done them so many wrongs.
Breakfast was prepared by Ding-dong and despatched without their
being any appreciable distance nearer to the strange schooner. But a
short time after the meal a brisk breeze sprang up and the "Nomad"
went staggering right gallantly along before it.
The schooner at the same time drew closer to her, both vessels
sailing with the wind on what sailors call "the beam."
"She's nodt mein schooner, dot is a sure for certain fact,"
pronounced Captain Nelsen, after a prolonged scrutiny of the distant
craft through his marine glasses.
"How do you know?" inquired Joe. "She looks almost exactly like her."
"Yah, but der 'Neddie Nelsen' had a green stripe round her bulvurks.
Dis schooner has a vite line."
"Maybe they've changed the color. I've heard of such things being
done."
The remark came from Captain Akers. Presently he took the glasses
from Captain Nelsen and in his turn focused them on the oncoming
schooner which seemed to be plunging along at a great rate.
"Well, dash my buttons, that's queer!" he exclaimed, after a minute
or two of close observation. A puzzled look crept over his face as
he spoke.
"What's queer?" inquired Nat.
"Why, I can't seem to see any one on her decks."
"Not even a man at the wheel?" asked Nat, in an astonished tone.
"No; not a soul. Here, you take the glasses and observe her. Your
eyes are younger than mine."
With this he handed the binoculars to the boy. But Nat, and the
others in their turn, were unable to spy any living being on the
schooner's decks.
"There is some mystery of the sea there," decided Captain Akers. "In
my opinion that ship has been abandoned for some good reason."
"But she is sailing along as if some hand were guiding her course,"
said Nat.
"That is true; but the helm may have been lashed before her crew
skipped out. If that is the case with this slant of wind, she would
naturally be sailing along as if all was well."
"Shall we board her and see what is the matter?" asked Nat eagerly.
"That will be a difficult and perhaps a dangerous task," was the
response. "That schooner is going at quite a speed and if we ran
alongside with the 'Nomad' she might run us down."
"Phew! Then we would be in a fix," exclaimed Joe. "I guess we'd
better give her a wide berth."
"Look!" cried Cal suddenly, as the schooner, without diminishing her
speed in the least, drew closer. "Look, what's the matter with her
flag? It don't look natural, somehow."
The attention of all thus directed to the ensign, which hung at the
vessel's peak, they could now see that it was upside down--a signal
of distress the wide seas over.
"Good gracious!" exclaimed Captain Akers. "That puts a different
complexion on the matter altogether. I begin to think that it may be
our duty as Christian beings to board that craft. Perhaps her crew
are suffering from some malady or affliction that has crippled them
and they may be lying helpless below at this very moment."
This was not an attractive picture, and Nat could not repress a
feeling of depression as the schooner drew closer and they could take
in her details. She was a black vessel of some hundred feet or more
in length, with tapering spars and well-cut sails, and evidently
possessed plenty of speed. Under her bowsprit they could now make
out a gilded figure-head--the image of a woman apparently holding a
trident aloft.
"The Island Queen!" read off Captain Akers, focusing his glasses on
the vessel's bow name board as she drew closer.
"She's as preddy a liddle ship as der 'Nettie Nelsen,' almost,"
pronounced Captain Nelsen.
"She is a fine schooner for a fact," agreed Nat. "I'd like to get on
board her and penetrate the mystery of her desertion or disaster."
"M-m-m-m-m-maybe she's lul-lul-lul-leaking!"
The suggestion came, of course, from Ding-dong.
"If she is, it's not as much as your parts of speech are," laughed
Joe. "She's quite high out of the water."
Much more speculation of this sort was indulged in as the two vessels
drew closer together.
They met and passed before Captain Akers had made up his mind whether
or not to risk boarding her. But as they drew close, and the
squeaking and straining of the schooner's blocks and rigging could be
distinctly heard, there came a sudden sound from the mysterious
vessel that struck a chill to all their hearts.
It was a long-drawn-out scream, uttered in what seemed to be a human
voice, and yet was unlike any they had ever heard.
Again and again the terrible cry rang out, while they regarded each
other with blanched faces.
What could it mean?
There was not a soul to be seen on her decks as the schooner swayed
by, but the scream was terribly real and appealing.
Captain Akers was the first to recover his wits in the presence of
this startling mystery.
"Boys," he exclaimed, looking round at them all with a determined
air, "there's some terrible secret aboard that schooner, and I'm
going to find out what it is if the Lord will let me. The wind's
dropping now. In a short time I shouldn't wonder if it fell a dead
calm. If it does, we can get out the collapsible boat and row over
to her. Do you agree with me?"
"We certainly do," Nat answered for the rest in an agitated voice.
"If there are some human beings in trouble on board that schooner,
we'll do our best to help them, as Americans should do."
"That's the talk, boy. Now, Joe, put about and take after the
schooner. I'm going below to overhaul my shooting-irons, for if we
shan't have occasion to use them before long, my name isn't Tom
Akers."