Tom Fairfield at Sea; or, The Wreck of the Silver Star

by Norman Duncan

  CHAPTER X

  THE DERELICT

  "Air!" thought Tom gaspingly, as he went down and down into the depths."I must get air! My lungs! They're bursting!"

  He felt himself being buffeted by the waters. It seemed as though hewas in a whirlpool of foam. He was being sucked down.

  Even then he found himself thinking of many things besides the veryevident necessity of saving himself. He was wondering what had struckthe _Silver Star_. He wondered if the ship had gone down, or had goneto pieces. What had become of her passengers and crew?

  And, with all that, and with the vital necessity of getting a breath ofair soon, Tom found himself regretting that his mission to rescue hisparents must now fail.

  "But it shan't!" he found himself exclaiming mentally. "I'll get up andsave myself, and them too!"

  Tom had grit. It was the kind of grit that enabled him to win thefootball game, and to lead his class to revolt against unfairtreatment.

  Striking out with all his might our hero swam upward. He felt that hewould never reach the top so that he might fill his lungs with air,and he blessed his lucky stars that he had put on light clothing, softshoes and was not encumbered with anything.

  For he felt that he was mounting upward. Upward through the blacknessand dark waters to what?

  That was something that even he dared not think about. Would he findhimself on a waste of waters, or would there be some boat near to savehim? Had the whole ship's company perished? It seemed likely.

  Then, as suddenly as he had gone into the water, he felt himselfshooting up out of it. He shook his head, as a dog shakes his body onemerging from the waves, to free his eyes of water. Then he glancedabout.

  There was a glare on the storm-swept surface of the heaving sea, aglare that Tom knew came from the flaring rockets and signal lights.He whirled about in the water until he could face the source of theillumination, and he saw that which saddened and startled him.

  About a hundred yards away, for that distance she had been swept by thestorm, was all that was left of the _Silver Star_. She was low in thewater--a wreck--and the light flared from one of her signal masts,where a sailor had fastened it.

  And in the glare Tom saw something else. It was a lifeboat, filledwith people, and it was headed away from him. He knew this was his onechance. Treading water, so as to bring his head as much above the wavesas possible, he shouted:

  "Help! Help! I'm Tom Fairfield! I'm right astern of you. Help! Help!I'm--"

  His voice was drowned out in a smother of foam that broke over himfrom a huge wave, and he had to swim to keep himself up. The boatdisappeared behind the crest of a comber, only to reappear again, thedying flare from the light showing the men rowing hard.

  "Help! Help!" sang out Tom again, but at the same moment he realizedthat in the roar of the wind and the swish of the waves his cry couldscarcely be heard. Still he called again:

  "Help! Help!"

  Once more he was covered by a smother of foam, and again he had to swimwith all his strength. When he could see the lifeboat again it wasfarther off, and then Tom did what he should have tried at first--heendeavored to swim after it.

  "For they're rowing to get beyond the suction of the ship when it goesdown," he reflected, "and when they're far enough away they'll wait topick up survivors."

  He struck out valiantly, his courage coming back to him now. It was notcold, and save for the violence of the wind and waves, Tom would nothave been in bad straits, for he was a good swimmer. But he realizedthe peril of his situation--adrift on the open ocean.

  He had swum perhaps fifty feet, getting occasional glimpses of thelifeboat as it rose on the crest of a wave, when the flare on thevessel seemed to be dying down.

  Tom swung around and saw a weird and terrifying sight. As he lookedthe _Silver Star_ seemed to stand up on end, like some stricken animalmaking a last stand. Then with a suddenness that was startling, thecraft sank from sight, a loud boom proclaiming when the decks blew upfrom the compressed air under them.

  Instantly the sea was in blackness again, and Tom felt his heartsinking, as he realized that he could no longer see the lifeboat, uponwhich his sole hope could be placed.

  "But I'm not going to give up. I'll yell some more," he thought, and hecalled with all the power of his lungs.

  "Help! Help! I'm Tom Fairfield! Right astern of you!"

  He listened, but all he could hear was the roar of the wind and theswish of the waves. And then he knew it was hopeless to look for aidfrom that direction.

  "I'll keep afloat as long as possible," he thought "and then--well--"He did not like to think further. "In the morning though," hereflected, "Ah, in the morning I may be able to pick up enough floatingwreckage to make a raft, or the boat may see me. There must be morethan one boat. They had time to launch more than one when I started tomake my roll into the ocean."

  This thought gave him courage, and he struck out with a better heart,determining not to give up as long as he could keep afloat.

  "I wonder if there are sharks here," thought the shipwrecked lad."Sharks! Ugh! And other big fish!"

  He felt a shiver run through him in spite of the warmth of thosesouthern waters, and the very warmth, and the thought of how far southhe had come, made him think all the more about some fierce man-eatingtiger of the sea.

  "Oh, pshaw! What's the use of being a chump!" said Tom aloud, when hegot a chance to free his mouth of salt water. "I just won't think ofanything like that. Of course there aren't any sharks here. I'll justthink that I'm trying to win the swimming race at Elmwood Hall for myFreshman class."

  The very idea, thus simply expressed, made him feel better, and hestruck out with better heart. Once more he went over in his mind theevents that had preceded the sinking of the _Silver Star_ and thenecessity for her passengers and crew to put to sea in small boats. Hefound himself wondering what she could have hit, or been rammed by, totear a hole in her.

  "And my pictures of the waterspout!" reflected Tom grimly. "They'reat the bottom of the ocean by this time I suppose. And poor dad andmother--But there, I'm not going to worry. I've got to swim, and Iguess I'll get all I want of it, even though I am fond of water."

  All around him was blackness, save a slight phosphorescence of theocean, and when he came up on the crest of a wave he looked about for apossible sight of a boat. But he saw nothing. He shouted occasionally,but he realized that he was only wasting his breath. On he swam, grimlyand determinedly.

  The storm seemed to be no worse, and Tom even found himself thinkingthat it was abating, after it had done all the damage possible.

  There came a big wave over him, almost depriving him of breath, andsending him rolling and tumbling down into the depths again. When hecame up, and had filled his lungs with air, he was almost exhausted.

  When he struck out his right hand hit something in the water.Instinctively he shrank away with a start of fear that he had come incontact with some monstrous fish. Then a flash of lightning--the firstsince the beginning of the storm--revealed to him a large cork ring, orlife preserver.

  He could barely repress a shout of joy--only the thought that his mouthmight become filled with salt water deterred him, for he knew what thatring meant to him.

  "I can get that over my head and float," he reasoned. He reached forit. The swell carried it away from him for a moment, and then he gothold of it. In a moment he had it under his armpits and he was ridingeasily on the surface of the sea, for the ring was a specially largeone, and raised him well up.

  He was floating on the surface of the sea, I have said, and yet it wasnot like the comparatively smooth surface of a river or lake. For, solarge were the waves still, in spite of the fact that the storm was alittle less severe, that Tom was down in a deep valley one moment, andon a wave-crest the next.

  "Perhaps I can see the boat, now that there's lightning," he reasoned,and, each time he came up he looked about. But he could see no sign ofthe life-craft, nor were his shouts answered.

  He swam
on again, rather hampered as to speed because of the ring, buthe did not mind this. His chief aim was to keep alive and afloat untilmorning so that he might look for help, or be located by those in theboats, if they were still on top of the sea. So Tom floated idly on,occasionally swimming when he felt a bit numbed by the cold, which hewas conscious of, now that he had been in the water so long.

  The lightning increased in frequency and intensity, and there weremutterings of thunder.

  "In for another storm, and a different kind," mused Tom. "I hope itclears up after that, so I have some chance."

  The flashes became more brilliant, as the storm came nearer. Tom tookadvantage of every one of them to look for a boat, or for a piece ofwreckage to which he might cling. But he saw nothing. Then the rain,which had ceased for a time, burst with greater fury. It fairly seemedto beat down the crests of the waves, and Tom was glad of that.

  "And I can get a drink, too," he reflected, for he had swallowed somesalt water, and his throat was parched. He held open his mouth and thegrateful drops dashed in. The amount he was able to catch was ratherdisappointing, but it was better than nothing.

  And then, as the fury of the storm grew, and the lightning became evenmore intense, Tom saw something that made his heart beat high withhope.

  It was a shape of something lying low in the water, and movingsluggishly on the swell. Our hero had only a glimpse of it at almostthe tail-end of the lightning flash, and he waited for anotherillumination before deciding what the object was.

  Then the whole heavens seemed lighted up by a great flash and our herosaw the object again.

  "A boat!" he cried. "And some one in it."

  He whirled about in the water, headed for the object, and struck out.

  "Help! Help!" he cried again. "Wait for me."

  Back came the answer over the waste of waters.

  "We can't do anything but wait. Swim over here. Go by the lightning."

  Once more Tom saw what he thought was the boat, by the glare of aflash. Then its peculiar shape impressed him.

  "It's an upset boat!" he gasped. "They've been thrown out and areclinging to the bottom. But it's a big one, though. Much bigger thanany of the lifeboats. I wonder what it can be?"

  On he swam toward the craft.

  "Are you there?" came a hail.

  "Yes, I'm coming," Tom answered.

  A huge wave seemed to sweep him onward. He saw that he was close tothe wrecked boat. A few more strokes, and a hand was reached out tohim. He grasped it desperately.

  "Come aboard, mate!" a hearty voice sang out. "We haven't much, butyou're welcome to it. Come aboard!"

  Tom found himself scrambling up the side of some craft. In the nextflash he saw the forms and indistinct faces of two men. One of themheld something in his arms.

  "What are you on?" gasped Tom.

  "A partly submerged derelict," was the answer. "It's the one the_Silver Star_ struck, I reckon, and the thing that ripped a hole in herand sunk her. It's a big derelict, my lad," the sailor went on, "andwhen we were tossed overboard we landed close to it, same as this otherlittle chap did."

  "What other little chap?" asked Tom, as he sank down exhausted on thedeck of the derelict.

  He had his answer a moment later.

  "Oh, Tom. Tom Fairfield!" a childish voice cried. "I want you and Iwant my daddy!"