CHAPTER VIII
IN THE LINER'S PATH
For several hours now the air had seemed very close and oppressive, andthe experienced captain of the _Northland_ felt, through some mysterioussixth sense born of long experience, that a storm was brewing. You maybe sure that he gave the matter a good deal more thought than thereckless group of high-spirited boys on board, who would have beensatisfied with any kind of weather that came along, provided it gavethem a little diversion and excitement. Indeed, it may be that theywould even have looked on a shipwreck as something rather pleasant thanotherwise, and have regarded it as an ideal chance for adventure.
One reads much in books of the romantic side of shipwreck, but thehorrors and privations of such an experience are glossed over. It issafe to say that anyone who has once gone through such a catastrophewill have no desire to repeat it.
Along toward dusk of their second day out, the sky became very overcast,and a gradual drop in the temperature occurred. Of course, the captainand officers were besieged with questions regarding the cause of this,and they had no difficulty in explaining.
"You see," said Captain Everett, unconsciously assuming the pose of alecturer, "we are now approaching the Grand Banks of Newfoundland, andgetting near the ice regions further north. The comparatively nearpresence of these icebergs naturally cools the air somewhat, and thataccounts for the lower temperature we all feel."
"I've read somewhere," remarked Tom, "that the ice is responsible forthe frequent fogs found in this section of the map, but I must confess Icould never quite figure out why."
"Oh, that's on account of the ice melting so fast in the warmer air,"explained the captain, "it gives off a thick mist, and when the air isso warm that the ice melts fast enough, it forms a very dense fog. I'veread a lot about London fogs, and seen 'em, too, but they can't hold acandle to the fogs you run into on the Banks. And from the way thingslook now, I rather think you're going to have a chance to judge foryourselves."
Indeed, it was as the captain said. In the distance was what looked tobe a low-lying island, but they were assured that it was in reality afog bank, lying close to the water. It drifted nearer and nearer, andbefore they knew it had begun to envelop the ship. First they wereconscious of a damp, cold feeling in the air, and then gradually nearbyobjects grew less and less distinct.
"Say, fellows," laughed Dick, "I think we'd better get some rope and tieourselves together before it's too late. We're not going to be able tosee each other very long, if this keeps up."
"Righto!" responded Bert. "Why, I can hardly see my own hand now, andfor all I know my feet may have walked off on their own hook and gotlost in this infernal mist. I can't see them, at any rate."
"Gee, I hope they haven't, old top," said Tom. "I'm afraid it might berather an inconvenience to you to lose them just now. It will be quite ahandicap when you try to run a few days from now, don't you think?"
"Oh, I don't know. I think I could run about as fast on my hands as youcould on your feet," retorted Bert, and turned the laugh against Tom.
But by now it was really impossible to see objects more than five feetaway, and the boys had to grope their way about with outstretched hands,like so many blind persons. After a while somebody started a game of"blind-man's tag," as they christened it. The one who was "it" had tolocate the others by sound, and when he thought he had done so wouldmake a wild rush in the general direction of the noise. Then therewould be a wild scramble to get out of his way, and more than onelaughing athlete was sent sprawling in a head-on collision. They keptthis up till they were tired, and then dropped down on the deck to restand listen to the yarns of the sailors. Naturally these tales were allabout troubles at sea due to fogs, and many a weird story was told thatstamped the teller as an inventive genius. Each one tried to crowd moreexciting events into his tale than the last narrator, and the result waslurid.
Of course, in most of the stories some part was based on an actualoccurrence, but to sift out the truth was like looking for theproverbial needle in a haystack. However, these old tars were pastmasters at the art, and there is no doubt that they made their storiesinteresting. The boys listened with great interest, now and then puttingin a question when it seemed needed.
Mermaids and sea serpents abound in many of these yarns, and, as Bertafterward remarked, "seemed commoner than squirrels in a park." But theypassed the time away very pleasantly, and before the boys realized it,Reddy was among them, commanding, "Off with ye now, and get a goodnight's rest. Ye should have all been in bed a good half-hour ago."
Of course there was no resisting this mandate, even had they been soinclined, so off to bed they went, groping and stumbling through thefog, that by this time had grown dense almost beyond belief.
"Good-night!" exclaimed Tom, as he tripped over a coil of rope and thenslipped on the slippery deck. "I only hope this old tub doesn't goramming any icebergs the way the old _Titanic_ did a little while ago.Mermaids may be all right in stories, but I don't care to make theiracquaintance under water just yet a while."
"No, I think I can pike along a little while longer without a closeracquaintance," laughed Bert, "and also without seeing any hundred-footsea serpents in their native element. Why, according to the storieswe've just been swallowing, one of those fellows could twine himselfaround the Woolworth Building and wave his head over the roof withouthalf trying."
"Without a doubt," said Dick, "and I imagine it would be ratherembarrassing to look up and find one gazing at you through theskylight."
"I wouldn't be a bit surprised," said Bert. "However, I guess we won'tlie awake very long to-night worrying about it."
"Righto!" acquiesced Dick, and with a few more remarks along the sameline they descended the steep cabin companionway. It was a relief to getout of the dense, clammy fog, and you may be sure the dry, comfortableberths felt very grateful to the tired athletes. In less time than ittakes to tell, they had all dropped off into deep slumber.
It seemed but a few moments later when Dick found himself sittingbolt upright in his berth, with a vague but none the less terrifyingsensation that something terrible had happened. At first he thought hemust have been dreaming, but a moment later shouts and cries on deckdispelled this idea. Dick hastily awakened Bert and Tom and all threebounded up on deck, where they found everything in confusion.
As they emerged from the companionway hatch they saw that the fog stillheld, thicker, if that were possible, than when they had gone below. Thecaptain was shouting orders from the bridge, and members of the crewwere scurrying wildly here and there across the slippery decks.
The ship's engines had been stopped, as they could tell by the absenceof vibration, but it was several minutes before they could get hold ofanybody to tell them what was amiss. Finally, however, they managed tostop one of the crew long enough to be told that they had rammed whatappeared to be a fishing schooner, and that the latter was sinking fast.Then the sailor hurried off on his interrupted errand, and the threeboys dashed forward to the bows, where most of the excitement seemed tobe.
As they drew nearer the forward part of the vessel they were able to seegrotesque figures, distorted by the fog, hurrying to and fro. Soon, astheir eyes became accustomed more and more to the dim light of lanterns,they could make out the outline of the mast and rigging of a sailingvessel close against the side of their own ship.
Up this rigging men were climbing swiftly, and jumping on to the deck ofthe _Northland_. Already there was a group of eight strange sailorsstanding there, with more coming all the time. Even as the boys watched,however, the mast of the sailing vessel gave a great lurch, and a crywent up from everybody watching.
"For the Lord's sake, hurry!" went up a shout from those on the strickenvessel. "She's sinking beneath our feet. Jump lively there!"
By the light of the binnacle lamp on the sinking vessel could be seenthe sturdy figure of her captain, standing immovable and calm and givingorders as coolly as though he were not in the slightest danger.According to the un
written law of the sea, a captain may not leave hisship until all his crew are off, and it was plain that this man would bestaunch to the end.
It became evident that the doomed vessel was sinking fast, and therewere still several men on her deck waiting their turn to climb therigging to safety. Could they possibly get up before the shipfoundered?--that was the question.
The mast sank lower and lower, until the last sailor up had to begrasped by friendly outstretched arms and dragged over the rail. Therewas now no reason for the captain to stay on deck, and seeing this, hemade a dash for the mast. But he was a second too late. The waves forseveral minutes had been lapping at the decks of the doomed craft, whichlay at a sharp angle to the water, and now with a sickening lurch itdived under the waves, taking its devoted captain with it.
"Lower a boat, there! Lower a boat," vociferated the captain of the_Northland_, and the crew hastened to obey. In an incredibly short timetwo boats had been manned and lowered, and began cruising about over thespot where the vessel had sunk. In that dense fog, however, there seemedlittle hope of ever again seeing the heroic captain, and they were juston the point of giving up the search and returning to their ship whensuddenly they heard what seemed to be a faint shout for help out of thefog about fifty yards from them. They rowed toward the sound, aftershouting back encouragingly, and it was not long before they made outthe figure of a man struggling stoutly in the icy water.
In less time than it takes to tell they had fished him out, and startedrowing back to the steamer. Soon they were on board, and were accorded aroyal reception by the assembled passengers and crew, all of whom wereby this time on deck.
The man whom they had picked up proved to be the captain of thefoundered vessel, and everybody crowded forward to shake his hand andcongratulate him on his escape.
But now Captain Everett pressed through the crowd, and after greetingthe unfortunate skipper and expressing his deep regret over theaccident, hustled him off to his cabin. Here he was wrapped in blankets,and served with boiling hot coffee.
After he had recovered his strength somewhat, he proceeded to give hisaccount of the accident.
"We had a lucky day yesterday," he said, "and were anchored over thesame spot, intending to start in again early the next morning. Most ofthe crew was asleep, and on account of this cursed fog our lookout wasunable to see your vessel until it was too late to give warning. Butfortunately, every body was saved, and as the ship was fully insured,matters might have been much worse, I suppose."
"Yes," said Captain Everett, "we were steaming only at quarter speed, orwe would not have been able to get about in time to render youassistance. I am very thankful that no lives were lost, which is raregood fortune in an accident of this kind."
"It is, for a fact," responded the other, and sank into silence. Heappeared to be troubled in mind, and little wonder. Even though he werenot actually to blame for the disaster, as of course he was not, stillhe knew that his employers would hold him responsible. And there isprobably no other profession in the world where a clear record is morehighly prized than in seafaring.
However, under the cheerful influence of the cabin table his depressionseemed to lighten somewhat, and he joined in the general conversation.He proved to be a man of some education and widely varied experience,and he recounted many tales of peril by sea.
It was late before the party broke up, and the unfortunate mariner wasshown to his cabin. He and the members of his rescued crew stayed on the_Northland_ several days, but then a homeward bound vessel was hailedand they were placed on board. There were hearty leave-takings on bothsides, with mutual expressions of regret.
As the ships rapidly drew apart, the captain and crew of the sunkensailing vessel lined the rail, and waved to the athletes until theirfigures became indistinguishable.
"Well," remarked Bert, as they turned away. "That was an occurrence thatwe won't forget in quite some time, I guess."
"Bet your life it was," agreed Tom. "It isn't every voyage that we getthe chance to do the rescue stunt like that."
"Which is a very fortunate thing," remarked Dick. "It's all right forus, and gives us a lot of excitement, but it's not much fun for the poorfellows that get wrecked. Here's their vessel, which they probablythought a lot of, as all sailors do, gone, and their employment with it,for the time at least. And that's saying nothing of the close approachto death which they had. I think I'd rather pursue some other occupationthan that of the sea. You have too many chances of making a personalvisit to the well known Mr. Davy Jones."
"Righto," agreed Tom, with a twinkle in his eye. "I'd rather dosomething safe, like running a sixty-horsepower automobile at the rateof eighty miles an hour, or some other little amusement like that,wouldn't you, Bert?"
"Oh, of course," grinned Bert, "there's no doubt that that's the safestthing in the world to do. You never hear of anyone getting hurt doingthat, do you?"
"Certainly not," said Tom. "Why, I've even heard that doctors recommendit to patients suffering from nervous disorders, and requiring a littlemild diversion. In fact, it's the customary thing to do."
"No doubt about it," said Bert, and then they all joined in a heartylaugh.
After this they dispersed to their various training "stunts," which mustbe gone through, wrecks or no wrecks.
Bert Wilson, Marathon Winner Page 8