CHAPTER XI
A Monster Peril
The good ship Northland had been traveling at reduced speed several hours, and Bert, who was always intensely interested in the operation of the vessel, was quick to notice this. At supper time the speed had not increased, and accordingly Bert took the first opportunity that presented itself to ask the captain respectfully the reason for this.
“Why, it’s this way,” he was told, “we’ve been receiving wireless messages recently that there is considerable ice in these waters, and we’re going slowly in consequence. Of course, at this time of the year, we oughtn’t to have to bother about icebergs at all, but the last winter was very long and cold, and this is the result.”
“Oh, I see,” said Bert; “but how do you know when you’re in the neighborhood of an iceberg? I should imagine it would be a rather hard object to make out.”
“No, you’re wrong there,” responded the captain. “They are very easy to see, as they emit a pale sort of glimmer that makes them very prominent at night. Of course, you never have any difficulty locating them in the daytime, fortunately. And then there’s another thing: they always chill the air for a considerable distance around them, and any sailor can tell what is threatening his ship when he feels this. Oh, no, they are easy enough to avoid, as a rule. Of course, sometimes a vessel running at high speed will not get warning of the presence of the menace until it is too late, as in a fog, for instance. In that case there is generally a report of another wreck in the morning papers a few days afterward.”
“But I should think there would be a way of detecting them by means of some instrument, say, for example, with an ordinary thermometer,” said Bert.
“Well, devices of that kind have been invented and used,” replied Captain Everett, “but in these days of high speed the warning generally comes too late, unless the ship is steaming at a very slow pace.”
“Well, then, science has been able to find nothing that is much better than the old method of a watch up in the crow’s nest. Is that the idea?” questioned Bert, in a disappointed tone. He had great faith in the ability of mechanical science to solve every problem under the sun, and accordingly he was incredulous on this point.
“So far that is true,” said the captain; “but a device has recently been patented that seems to fill the bill perfectly, as far as I can see.”
“How does that work?” queried Bert.
“Well, to explain it, you would have to have a rather exhaustive knowledge of icebergs and their habits,” said the captain, smiling; “however, I will do my best to make it clear to you. You see, an iceberg, being so much colder than the surrounding water, sets up a series of currents in the ocean, that are felt for a considerable distance. The warmer water flows toward the ’berg, and the colder water away, just as in the air the warmer air will rise and the colder air rush in to take its place. Is that plain?”
“Oh, certainly, I can understand how that works, all right,” replied Bert.
“Well, in that case, you can see how simple the rest is,” said the captain. “All you have to do is construct an instrument that will be affected by these currents, and your problem is solved. Of course that is a comparatively simple matter, and the writer of the article I read claimed to have done it. His theory seemed very plausible to me, and I would be very little surprised to see every ship equipped with his device in the near future.”
“It certainly seems feasible,” agreed Bert, “in fact, it seems so simple that it’s queer someone has not thought of it before.”
“Oh, there’s nothing surprising in that, to my way of thinking,” said Captain Everett. “Many of our greatest inventions, or rather their principles, existed long before they were put to practical use. Take steam, for example. Steam has existed from the beginning of the world, with all its power and possibilities, yet it is not until a comparatively recent date that it has been harnessed and put to work. It’s the same way with electricity, or any of a thousand things you could think of.”
“Yes, there’s no doubt but what you’re right,” admitted Bert, “but just the same, it seems too bad they couldn’t have been discovered sooner. Look at the Titanic disaster, for instance. If they had had that device that you were just telling me about installed, the whole tragedy could probably have been avoided, and the world been spared a horrible disaster.”
“It certainly does seem a pity,” agreed the captain, “but then, if everything had been discovered right off, there would have been nothing left for you or me to invent, and the world would have no work left for anyone to do. There seems to be a great plan back of these things, after all.”
“It’s too bad we haven’t something of the kind on board now,” said Bert. “It might come in handy.”
“I wouldn’t be a bit surprised,” said Captain Everett, with a worried air. “I hate to lose valuable time crawling along at this pace, but of course anything is better than what might happen if we didn’t. I don’t want to cheat old Uncle Sam out of a victory by drowning all his athletes,” and here he smiled.
“Oh, it would be a terrible loss,” agreed Bert, slyly, “specially that of yours truly. That would indeed be an irreparable calamity.”
“Oh, of course, of course,” laughed the captain. “That goes without saying, Wilson.”
At this point Reddy strolled up, and joined in the conversation. His thoughts, however, dwelt more with perfecting a certain crowd of athletes for the coming Olympic games than with inventions to warn ships of their peril, or any other kind.
After a time the captain asked Reddy how his charges were coming along.
“Oh, as well as could be expected, I suppose,” growled the trainer. Secretly he was more than satisfied with their condition, but would have died rather than admit it. “They seem more inclined to exercise their jaw muscles than anything else, but otherwise they’re not so awful bad.”
“That’s rather negative praise,” laughed Bert, “but we know very well that if we weren’t all right Reddy would be exercising his ‘jaw muscles’ more than he does, so we have to be satisfied with that.”
Reddy grinned, but made no reply, and shortly afterward sauntered off. After a little further conversation with the captain, Bert followed suit, and strolled up into the bows, where a man was on lookout.
The sailor was gazing intently ahead, and did not look up at the sound of Bert’s approach, or even when he spoke to him. He knew that the safety of the whole ship and those on board rested on him, and he was taking no chances.
He answered Bert’s salutation civilly enough, however, but answered his questions only in monosyllables, and Bert soon gave him up as a bad job. He realized, moreover, that the man was right, as it was against the ship’s rules to talk while on duty.
So Bert leaned against the bulwarks in silence, having little else to do at the time, and gazed ahead in an abstracted fashion. No sound was to be heard save the wash of the water against the bows, and occasionally a shout or laugh from the athletes amidships.
Suddenly Bert was roused from his reverie by a call from the lookout.
“Ice ahead! Ice ahead!” yelled the sailor, and dashed madly toward the stern, waving his arms wildly.
Bert gazed intently ahead, and could faintly make out a luminous mass some distance from the ship, but directly in its path. He was conscious of a feeling of damp chill in the air, too, and felt that they were nearing an iceberg. Suddenly the vibration of the engines ceased, and then started again, and Bert knew they had been reversed. The ship seemed to lose little of its speed at first, though, and the huge ’berg loomed up closer and closer. The helm had been put over, and the ship swung around obediently, and so approached the ’berg at an angle. Shouts and cries arose from the crew and some of the passengers, and it was an exciting moment.
Gradually the ship lost its momentum under the reverse pull of the big propellers, but to Bert it seemed impossible that they could stop in time. Nearer and nearer they came, and the ship seemed wrapped in an icy fog. Now Bert could make out details of the ’berg, and even in such a time as this, when it seemed that he was approaching certain death, he noted idly the huge spires and needles of ice that rose into the blue sky like church steeples.
Now the good ship was almost touching the ’berg, but was at a long angle with it. Bert saw that the impact would not be as great as he had at first imagined, but nevertheless he awaited it with bated breath.
Then it came – a jarring, grinding, glancing blow, and the ship trembled from bow to stern. Huge fragments of ice clattered down on her decks, and some of her crew were badly hurt by flying ice splinters.
There was great confusion then, and a few of the crew started a rush for the boats, but were met before they could get there by Captain Everett and his first and second officers, all with revolvers in their hands.
“Back there! Back!” shouted the captain, and his ordinarily mild eyes blazed with an angry light. “The first man who moves another step forward dies! Get back to your posts, every one of you, and be glad I don’t shoot you like the dogs you are!”
Cowed by his determined demeanor, and that of the other officers, the men slunk back, and Captain Everett set about finding what damage had been done. Two sailors were sent below to inspect the hold, and the captain awaited their report with keen anxiety.
Soon the two men returned, and one said: “There seems to be nothing the matter, sir, as far as we can make out. She doesn’t seem to be taking in any water.”
“That’s well!” exclaimed the captain, after the two men had saluted and gone forward. “It’s barely possible that the ship may not be much damaged, after all, although it seems almost incredible. However, we won’t find any fault with providence if it isn’t.”
Strange as it may seem, by what appeared to be almost a miracle the ship had come off from the encounter with a few bent bow plates and the loss of considerable paint.
Before long the ship had resumed its course, and the iceberg was falling rapidly to the rear. Bert had been the only person in the vessel’s bows at the time of the collision, and he was soon encircled by a group of athletes anxious to hear the story.
“Believe me, fellows,” he said, in a sober voice, “I gave us all up for lost. I thought our goose had been cooked, sure. Why, that ’berg looked as high as a mountain to me, and if we had hit it head-on it would have been all over but the shouting. It’s a lucky thing the captain got warning in time to veer the steamer around a little.”
Everybody realized that they had had a very close escape from death, and for the rest of the day little else was talked about. It was just such a collision as had been responsible for the speedy sinking of the great liner Titanic with over two thousand souls on board. That ship had struck a glancing blow, in the same way that the Northland had, but was less fortunate as to the result. A great projecting sliver of ice had penetrated the ill-fated vessel’s hull, and within a few hours she was lying at the bottom of the sea. Indeed, at the present moment they were but a short distance from the leviathan’s last resting place, and this made them realize all the more strongly what a miraculous escape they had had.
Needless to say, every precaution was taken to insure against a repetition of their recent experience, and the ship fairly crawled along at one-quarter speed. They sighted other ’bergs at intervals, but never near enough to give them any concern, and a day or so later were safely out of the danger zone. Then Captain Everett ordered full speed resumed, and the Northland began to plow through the blue water at its customary good clip.
Training, which had been more or less interrupted by the recent exciting events, was resumed in good earnest, and everybody worked with a will to make up for lost time. Reddy had an eye for every athlete on board, and woe betide the man who was found shirking, even in the slightest degree. He was sure to be forced to make up his deficiencies, with some extra hard training “stunt” for good measure.
The second day after the encounter with the iceberg the sky became very overcast, and bore every sign of an approaching storm. The haze veiling the heavens became thicker and thicker, and the sun could be seen shining through it only at rare intervals, and then very faintly.
The barometer fell lower and lower, and there was every evidence of the approach of a severe storm. Nor were these warnings groundless, as they soon had occasion to find out.
Everything aboard ship was made ready, and no movable object on the decks was left unsecured. The athletes regarded the approach of the storm with feelings more of interest than anything else, but Reddy snorted his disgust.
“Everything’s agin’ me,” he growled. “This trip so far has been nothin’ but a bunch o’ queer experiences that you could write a story book about, maybe, but that don’t count for more than a plugged nickel when it comes to gettin’ a bunch o’ would-be athletes in shape to make better speed than the runners at a fat men’s picnic. I just get things settled down and begin to kid meself that we’re gettin’ somewhere, when we go and bump into an iceberg, or some other fool stunt o’ that kind. But if these fellers don’t cop a few lovin’ cups and medals over at the games it isn’t goin’ to be the iceberg that gets the blame, you can lay to that. Nix! Everybody’ll say, ‘Gee, I bet old Uncle Sam’s runners and jumpers would have made good if only they’d had a decent sort of a trainer along that knew a little about his job.’ That’s the line of chatter that’ll be handed out to me, all right. This trainin’ business is a thankless job, anyway, let me tell you. If the American team wins, they get all the glory and credit, but if they lose, it’s yours truly that gets the blame.”
“Aw, don’t you worry yourself about us, Reddy,” said Drake, “we’re going to win every event over there, practically, and after watching our wonderful work you ought to realize that fact,” and he grinned.
“Oh, sure,” replied Reddy, sarcastically. “If you boys win all you think you’re goin’ to win, I won’t kick. But I’m from the wilds of Missouri, and I’ve got to be shown.”
Discussion of this sort lasted until the lunch bell rang, when there was a wild dive to the tables, all disputes forgotten.
After lunch, when they returned on deck, they were surprised at the appearance of the ocean. The wind, which before they went below had been blowing in fitful gusts, had now settled down to a steady gale that was increasing in violence with every hour that passed. The sea was rising rapidly, and already was dotted here and there with whitecaps. The sun had entirely disappeared, and the sky was a dull gray color. Clouds scudded across it with terrific speed, giving an indication of the force of the wind back of them, and as the boys gazed across the tumbling waves they every one felt a thrill of something very much like apprehension.
There is something very terrifying and awe-compelling about a storm at sea, especially to those not used to it. At such time a ship seems a very small thing in the great expanse of tumbling billows and shrieking wind, and it seems almost impossible that anything constructed by man can withstand Nature’s fury.
Soon the storm became so wild that most of the passengers retired below, and many of them experienced sea-sickness for the first time on the voyage, as the ship was now pitching and rolling wildly. Bert, Dick and Tom, however, stayed on deck, and felt that nothing could hire them to go down. This was an experience such as they might not have again in many a year, and they felt inclined to make the most of it.
They stayed on deck until supper time, and then went below. Several athletes were absent from the tables, and of those who were there many ate very sparingly. Not one would admit that this was due to sea-sickness, however, and indeed, there was less of this than might naturally have been expected.
They were all in such fine physical condition that they were less affected by such an experience than the average passenger, and there were few of them who were actually “down and out.”
The storm lasted two days, but on the morning of the third day had practically blown itself out. When the three comrades went up on deck the sun was shining gloriously, but the ocean was still very rough. In a few hours it had subsided noticeably, but the great billows still ran fifteen or twenty feet high. It was a wonderful sight, and one to be remembered for a lifetime. The boys gazed spellbound, and felt they would have been contented to do nothing all day but drink in the inspiring scene.
Shortly after they got on deck the lookout cried, “Ship ho!” and the boys followed the direction of his pointing finger. At first they could make out nothing, but in a few minutes they glimpsed a vessel lifted up on the crest of a monster wave, and about a mile from their course.
As they drew nearer it became evident that the vessel was a partial or entire wreck. She had been a three-masted schooner, as they could tell from the stumps of the masts projecting from her deck, but they had all gone by the board.
One was still fastened to the ship by a mass of tangled rigging, and every once in a while would be washed against the side with a crash. The vessel was low in the water, and it was evident that she was sinking.
The Northland’s course was altered so as to bring her alongside the dismantled vessel, and the athletes, every one of whom by this time was on deck, crowded to the rail, to get a closer glimpse of the wreck.
CHAPTER XII
The Ocean’s Prey
It was indeed a scene of awful wreckage on which they gazed. The gale had played havoc with the unfortunate vessel, and what with the aid of the mighty waves had almost completely demolished it. The bulwarks were battered and broken, where the masts had crushed them in falling overboard. Broken and splintered planks strewed the deck, and everything was bound together by tangled masses of cordage. The bridge had been torn from its fastenings at one end, and sagged down to the deck. All the davits were empty, with the exception of two in which boats were still hanging. The reason for this was plain, as they both had huge holes stove in their planking, and could not possibly have been repaired in less than several days.
Altogether it presented a sad spectacle, and bore mute testimony to the terrific violence of the storm through which they had just passed. There was no sign of life on board, but nevertheless Captain Everett decided to send a boat to investigate, on the off chance of picking up some wounded or sick person who might have been overlooked in the last mad launching of the boats.
Accordingly, a boat was lowered, and certain members of the crew told off to man her. “Gee!” exclaimed Tom, who with Dick, Bert, and most of the other athletes, was an interested spectator of these proceedings, “I’d give ’bout ten years of my life to be able to go with them. I don’t suppose there’s any chance of that, though, hang it!”
“Not a chance in the world,” replied Bert, but then he hesitated a minute, and said, “But wait, hold on a minute. I may be able to get us on, after all.”
“How are you going to do it?” questioned Dick, incredulously, but already Bert was making a bee-line for the captain.
When he could get Captain Everett’s attention he asked to be allowed to visit the wreck with his two companions. At first he would not even listen, but Bert begged so hard that he finally consented.
“Very well,” he answered, rather dubiously, “I suppose I’ll have to let you go, but just the same I wish you had asked some other favor. However, I don’t suppose any very great harm can come from it, so you have my permission, Wilson. I am trusting you to be careful and not endanger the lives of you or your two companions.”
“Thanks awfully,” said Bert, “and you may rest assured that we will take every precaution,” and Bert turned and raced back to his companions.
“It’s all right, fellows!” he yelled. “The captain says we can go, and everything’s settled. Make out I’m not the champion little fixer of this crowd of rescuing heroes.”
“You sure are,” admitted Dick. “We’ve got to hand it to you. But tell us the magic word. Let us in on the secret, and tell us how you did it.”
“Oh, I’ll tell you all about it later on,” replied Bert. “I haven’t time now, because they’re holding the boat for us as it is.”
Captain Everett, true to his promise, had given orders to the crew to take the three comrades with them, and they awaited their arrival with much impatience. They had not long to wait, however, for in another few seconds the three had raced across the deck at a pace that did credit to their training, and tumbled into the boat. Then the sailors gave way with a will.
The graceful boat fairly flew over the ocean, which by this time had become much smoother. Occasionally some wave higher than the rest would dash against the sides and send a silvery shower of spray over them, and without careful seamanship it would have been no very difficult matter to swamp the frail craft.
However, they reached the wreck without mishap, and then the question arose as to the best way to board the hulk. The splintered mast washing against the side of the ship nearest to their own vessel made it impossible to land on that side, so they rowed around under the stern of the wreck. Here her name was printed in prominent black letters: the Mary Carpenter, of New York. Continuing to the other side, they had small difficulty in picking up a trailing rope and making their little boat fast. Then, one after the other, they went up the rope hand over hand until all the crew were on the littered deck with the exception of one sailor who was left to take care of the boat. The boys had no choice but to follow suit, but they tackled the feat with many misgivings. It is not as easy a thing as it may sound to climb hand over hand up a slippery cable, with a seething ocean below, and the ship to which the rope is attached jerking and plunging in every direction. Fortunately, their nerve and good training enabled them to negotiate the perilous passage without accident, and they were soon standing on the deck of the wreck.
Mr. Pollard, the officer commanding the expedition, led the way, picking his way over piled and tumbled wreckage that told its own story of storm and destruction.
He made directly for the cabin, followed by the others. As they neared it they could distinguish a muffled barking, and Dick exclaimed, “Well, what do you know about that, fellows! They’ve left in such a hurry that they’ve left their dog behind. It begins to look as though we might have a chance to rescue something, anyway.”
“Doesn’t it, though?” said Tom, and the boys could hardly restrain their eagerness to break open the door imprisoning the unfortunate animal.
They were not long in reaching it, but found the door blocked, apparently by some heavy object inside. Several of the sailors set their brawny shoulders against the door, however, and it burst inward with a crash. From the opening dashed a big white bulldog, running full tilt into Tom and fairly knocking him off his feet.
“For the love of Mike!” exclaimed Tom, as he picked himself up, “what hit me anyway? Was it an elephant, or what?”
As soon as the others could recover from their laughter, they began making overtures to the dog, who had rushed up into the bows and now regarded them suspiciously. “Poor old fellow,” said Bert, “I guess he thought the end of the world had come, or something equally bad. He doesn’t seem to like our looks very much now, though, does he?”
“Well, if he does, he conceals his feelings very successfully,” said Dick. “He may become better tempered, though, when he sees that we’re trying to introduce ourselves properly.”
Indeed, the dog seemed more frightened than vicious, and presently began to wag his tail feebly. After much coaxing he came toward them, and Bert ventured to pat his head. The dog licked his hand affectionately, and wagged his tail, or what he called his tail, as hard as he knew how. “Say, fellows,” said Bert, seized by a sudden inspiration, “let’s take him back with us and make him our mascot. I have a feeling that he’ll bring us all the luck in the world.”
“Great idea,” agreed Tom and Dick, and adopted the ship-wrecked one forthwith. The suggestion of a sailor that he hadn’t brought much luck to the vessel on which he was found fell on deaf ears, and the boys returned to the search of the ship, followed unquestioningly by their latest acquisition.
Inside the dark cabin everything was in a confused state fitly matching that of objects outside. The berths were tumbled, and the bed-coverings were strewn about the floor. A small iron safe set in flush with the wall was open, and empty. A few stray coins were scattered here and there about the floor, and the first comers pounced eagerly on these, to save as souvenirs. A further search failed to reveal the ship’s log or any of her papers, but of course this was not to be wondered at, as only in a case of the most dire peril will a commander leave his vessel without these.
There were three other state-rooms opening out of the main cabin, but after they had been thoroughly ransacked nothing of any value was found in them.
“Well, men,” said Mr. Pollard, “I guess there’s no use in staying here any longer. Evidently there’s no living soul on board, and as far as I can see there seems to be nothing worth taking away.”
Accordingly, after one last glance around the forlorn cabin, they had turned and were preparing to go on deck, when they were startled by a shout from above and the man who had been left to take care of the small boat poked his shaggy head inside the door.
“You’d better make haste, sir,” he exclaimed, in an excited voice, addressing Mr. Pollard, “this old tub’s settling fast, sir, and I think she’s about due to go under in something less than a quarter of an hour.”
Accordingly Mr. Pollard gave the order to return to their boat, but the words had hardly left his mouth when the wreck gave a sickening lunge, and the face of more than one in the little party went pale.
“Step lively, now, men!” ordered the officer, in a tense voice. He had no need to repeat his order, for the ship began to list over at a sharp angle, and the men broke into a run. The sight that met their eyes as they leaped up the stairs to the deck was terrifying. When they had gone below, the deck had been perhaps four feet above the water, but now it was almost level with the waves at its highest part, and where it had listed over the water was lapping above the boards.
A shout went up from the sailors, and they made a wild dash for the boat. Into it they tumbled, pell mell, and last of all came the three boys and Mr. Pollard. They leaped into the boat without selecting their landing place very carefully, and those nearest the oars snatched them up and began pulling for dear life. They were not in unison, however, and the boat fairly crawled away from the side of the doomed vessel. It seemed like some horrible nightmare, in which deadly peril is seen approaching, but from which the sleeper is unable to escape. Fortunately, both Dick and Bert had managed to get hold of an oar on opposite sides of the boat, and they at least kept their heads and worked together.
They knew that if the wreck sank before they got one or two hundred feet from it, the whole boat load would be drawn under by the suction. They tugged and pulled desperately, and gradually, aided to some extent by the cooler of the crew, drew away from the dangerous vicinity. In their excitement they had forgotten the poor dog, but now they were reminded of his presence by seeing him come to a broken place in the bulwarks and gaze after them with beseeching barks and whines.
Dick looked at Bert, but the latter shook his head. “No, we can’t take a chance and go back for him, Dick,” he said, “it would be staking all our lives against that of a dog. We’ll have to leave him, that’s all.”
“Gee, but I hate to do that,” exclaimed Tom, “maybe we can get him to follow us,” and he started whistling to the dog.
The animal seemed uncertain what to do, but after giving one despairing glance around at the dismantled deck, he appeared to make up his mind, and plunged boldly overboard. Those in the boat would have liked to wait for him, but they dare not. They were not yet at a safe distance, and the wreck was going down fast now. She was listed considerably to port, and they could see the waves washing further and further up the sloping deck.
Slowly, slowly, the unfortunate schooner settled, causing little ripples and eddies in the water surrounding it, which by this time was almost calm. Now almost half the deck was under water, and then the stern gradually rose in the air, while the bows pointed downward into the green depths. Slowly, deliberately, she slid under the waves, and one more proud ship was added to the ocean’s heavy toll.
A deep sigh went up from those in the little boat, partly of thankfulness at their own escape, and partly of sorrow over the fate of the wrecked schooner.
The poor bull dog had disappeared, and the boys gave him up for lost. Suddenly Tom cried, “Look, fellows, look! He must have been dragged under by the suction, but I just saw him come up!”
Sure enough, over the spot where the ship had gone down they could see a little white speck bobbing up and down.
“Give way, men!” ordered Mr. Pollard, “we might as well pick the plucky little scamp up. It’s easy to see he’s no quitter.”
The men were nothing loth, and were soon alongside the game little swimmer. Tom leaned over the side, and grasping him by the scruff of his neck, pulled him safely inboard. The dog feebly licked his hand, but then lay in a little dejected heap in the bottom of the boat, panting heavily.