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

by Norman Duncan

  CHAPTER XIV

  DREARY DAYS

  Like some castaways on a desert island, when they have discovered asail in the distance, so it was with Tom and the others when they foundthat their water-logged craft was really making headway with the rudesail they had hoisted. It seemed to them that now they could reallynavigate to some place where they would be saved from death at sea.

  "She's really slipping along," remarked Joe.

  "And with some speed, too," added his mate.

  "She answers the helm," observed Tom, who was in temporary charge ofthe rudder, as he shifted the rough handle and noted a change in thecourse of the derelict.

  "Well, yes, she does, but you can't count on it much, captain," spokeAbe. "That is to say we've got to keep more or less dead before thewind. No fancy tacking, sailing great circles, or anything like that.No frills; it's plain sailing for us."

  "And that will do as well as any other I reckon," put in Joe. "If wekeep on dead ahead long enough we're bound to fetch up somewhere orother, I lay you that, and you've sailed in these seas as much as Ihave, Abe Weldon. How about it?"

  "Well, yes, I reckon so," was the answer. "There's islands a-plentyaround here, if we can fetch one. And there ought to be more or less ofvessels making in and out, for there is lots of trade with these sameislands. So if we don't hit an island we may be picked up, if we keepmoving."

  "Then we'll move, as long as there's wind," decided Tom with a laugh.

  "Can I sail the ship?" asked little Jackie, abandoning his play ofcutting out soldiers. "I want to steer."

  "You may help me," promised Tom. "Come and help push."

  The rudder, if such it can be called, had been hung over the stern ofthe derelict. It was like some huge sweep, or oar on a raft, but itserved the purpose. While Tom and his little charge were at this task,Joe and Abe further made secure the wooden deck house they had made.Professor Skeel helped them, but he was a moody assistant, and whilethe two sailors joked and sang he maintained a glum silence.

  "Well, we're in pretty good shape, considering what happened to us,"finally announced Joe. "What time does the dinner gong ring, captain?It looks to me like eight bells now."

  "My watch has stopped," said Tom, taking his water-soaked timepiece outof his pocket, "but--"

  "The sun is good enough bell for me," laughed Abe. "It's twelve now, ifI'm any judge," and he looked up at the ball of yellow fire in the sky.

  "Then we'll eat," decided Tom. "Shall I steer while you--"

  "No sir!" exclaimed Joe. "Captain's table is first, always. I'll mindthe wheel, not that there's much steering to be done, only we might aswell have things ship-shape while we're at it, I suppose."

  The meal was not an elaborate one, but there was no disposition tofind fault--at least on the part of the more mature members of theshipwrecked party. As for Jackie, Tom played the "pretend" game withhim once more until the child was satisfied that canned beef was roastchicken.

  The water they had to drink was warm, and not very palatable, but theymade the best of that, too, thankful that they had any with which tocool their parched throats.

  After dinner they made a more complete survey of the derelict, whichhad not been possible earlier in the morning, as the sea was stillrunning rather high. Now the ocean was like the proverbial millpond,and only occasionally a wave washed slightly over the submerged bow ofthe craft.

  "The forward companionway is almost out of water," observed Joe,looking thoughtfully at it. "If we could lighten the ship a bit Ibelieve I could get into it."

  "What good would it do?" asked Tom.

  "Well, I might be able to fetch up something. Maybe some stores--somethingto eat. Tinned stuff keeps a good while, even under water."

  "How long do you think this vessel has been wrecked?" asked Tom.

  "No telling. A year maybe, longer perhaps. It's in pretty good shape. Ican't see anything to tell her name by or anything like that."

  They all looked about them at the mystery of the sea. Whence had thevessel sailed, and to where? What had become of her captain and crew?They were questions that could not be answered.

  "She's a mystery, the same as what has become of the rest of the folksof the _Silver Star_," remarked Abe. "I wonder if that lifeboat gotaway safely? Was the captain saved? Them things always comes to a manafter he's been saved."

  "Hush!" exclaimed Tom, nodding toward the child.

  "That's right," agreed Abe. "We've got to keep it from him, poor littlekid."

  But at present Jackie seemed happy enough, and he gave no thoughtto the possible loss of his father. He was content to be with Tom,and help to steer the derelict, which task he assigned himself withwhoever was at the wheel. That is all but with Mr. Skeel, and, somehowor other, Jackie took a dislike to the stern man. Nor did the formerElmwood Hall instructor seem to care. He performed his duties in solemnsilence.

  All that afternoon they sailed on, eagerly watching for the sign of asail, or the sight of some island. But nothing rewarded their gaze.

  "I guess we must be in a pretty watery part of the ocean," remarked Abegrimly.

  "Oh, we'll fetch up somewhere, sooner or later," declared his mate.

  "Where am I going to sleep to-night, Tom?" asked Jackie, as it began toget dusk, the sun sinking down behind the waves in a glory of gold thatpromised a fair day on the morrow.

  "With me, of course, Jackie," answered our hero. "We'll sleep under thewooden tent."

  "In the dark?"

  "Oh, yes, in the dark."

  "But I don't like the dark."

  "It's better than the light, Jackie dear. The mosquitoes can't find youto bite you in the dark."

  "All right. I don't like the dark, and I don't like the miskeeters,either. Will you hold my hand?"

  "Yes, Jackie."

  "No, we can't make a light, worse luck," murmured Abe. "I've got somematches, that I always carry in a water-tight case, but it might not bealtogether safe to make a light on a lumber derelict, even if she ispartly water-logged. She might take fire."

  "What was your idea of a light?" asked Tom.

  "A signal, my lad. Our sail, small as it is, can be pretty well seen inthe daytime, but at night we're just nothing, and if a vessel shouldhappen along, and we were in her path--"

  "However, we'll trust to luck," went on Abe.

  He did not finish, but they all knew what he meant.

  "We can't kick against Providence. Now let's have grub and turn in.Captain, will you name the watches?"

  "Name the watches?" asked Tom.

  "Yes, some one has to be on duty all night, for we might sight a lightand a hail would bring help."

  "Oh, I see. Well, I think you or Joe had better do that, knowing moreabout it."

  "Very well, then I'll take from eight to eleven, Joe can take fromeleven to two, and Mr. Skeel from two to five. By that time it'll belight."

  "But where do I come in?" asked Tom.

  "You'll stay with him," whispered Abe, winking his eye, and nodding atlittle Jackie. Then Tom understood.

  The night passed without incident, the child sleeping peacefully withTom. Some pieces of the canvas served as a bed, and little was neededin the way of covering, for it was quite warm, and their clothing haddried out.

  "No vessels sighted?" asked Tom in the morning, as they prepared forthe simple breakfast.

  "Not a one," answered Mr. Skeel shortly. "I don't believe we'll ever berescued."

  "Oh, stow that kind of talk," commanded Abe, half roughly. "Of coursewe will. Why, our voyage has only just begun."

  Dreary days followed. The food and water was divided with scrupulouscare, for there was no telling how long the scanty store of each wouldhave to last. They went on three-quarter rations--that is, all butJackie, who had his full share, though in the matter of water he didnot use as much as any of the others.

  The hours and days passed, and their straining eyes saw no sign ofa sail, and no welcome land loomed into view. Their progress wasslow--slower than the
y had any idea of, for the sail was small and thederelict low in the water, and heavy. Dreary and more dreary became thetime.

  "I'll be jib-boomed if I don't think some one has moved the blessedislands!" exclaimed Abe, one day.

  "It does look so," admitted his mate. "I thought sure we would sightone before this. If we could only make a bigger sail we could movefaster."

  "We can't, unless we take our clothing, and we need that to protect usfrom the sun," declared Abe. "Not being blooming cannibals that canstand any great amount of heat on our own skins."

  "Then what we need is a smaller boat," decided Joe.

  "What's that, matie?" asked Abe.

  "I said we needed a smaller boat, and then this sail would do."

  For a moment Abe stared at his companion, and then, bringing his handdown on his thigh with a report like a pistol, he cried:

  "That's it! You've struck it! A smaller boat is what we need, and we'regoing to have it! We'll set sail in that and make three times the speedwe can in this bulk. Hurray for a smaller boat!"

  Joe looked at him anxiously for a moment, and then said gently:

  "Come in out of the sun, matie. Take a drink of water, do, and liedown. I've been touched that way myself once or twice. Just take iteasy and you'll get over it."