CHAPTER XIX
A LONE NAVIGATOR
Jerry Hopkins stood in a pool of sea water on the deck of the derelictto which he had climbed after having been immersed in the ocean formore than an hour. Every seam of his garments seemed to spew out alittle puddle of dampness, and he said afterward that he felt notunlike a sponge. But for the time being, wonder at his new situationand thankfulness that he was on something more substantial than a waveoverpowered every other emotion.
“Well, I’m here, but where am I?” mused Jerry. “I wonder what vesselthis is and how long she will remain afloat? Anyhow, if she does gounder I can make a raft of something to keep afloat on. This isn’t halfbad. Now let’s see where I’m at!”
Jerry knew that the best thing for him to do was to get some dryclothes on, provided he could find any, or, if not, to get his wet onesoff and let them dry. The weather was cold and damp, and the fog stillprevailed, so much so that he could only see part of the deck of thederelict at a time.
The refugee also felt the need of food and something hot to drink, forthough it was not winter his immersion in the sea, coupled to the factthat the last few days had been damp, cold ones, had not served toraise his vitality.
“But first I’m going to see if any one else is on board,” mused Jerry,as he moved about, first, however, removing his soaked coat andtrousers. His shoes he had loosed and let drop into the ocean soonafter he began swimming.
“This is as good as a bathing suit, in case I meet any one,” mused thelad, as he glanced down at his underwear. “And I can’t stand those wetthings. There must be bunks aboard, if nothing else, and I can crawlinto one after a bit. But first I’m going to look about.”
He did not pause long to ascertain what sort of craft it was on whichhe found himself. That it was a derelict, and that it was probably theone that had crashed into the _Sherman_, or the craft into which thetroopship had crashed, was very evident to Jerry Hopkins. That it wasa derelict was sure, for there was not a sign of life on deck, nor wasthe vessel under command. There was no vestige of sail, and no smokecame from her single funnel, nor was there any vibration to tell ofengines in motion.
Jerry made a quick tour of the deck, moving swiftly to restore hispartially suspended circulation. The vessel showed many evidences ofdamage, whether by shell fire or collision Jerry could not determine.Her rails were broken in many places, and all her boats were goneexcept a broken one on the port davits. Looking over the side as besthe could the lad decided that there was not much damage below the waterline, or, if there were punctures, the bulkheads confined the leakageto one small section.
“She floats pretty well,” mused Jerry, after he had made a tour of thecraft and had seen no one on the deck. “She may ride quite a while yet.There’s no one up here, that’s sure, but that isn’t saying there mayn’tbe some one below. I’m going to look.”
The sea was calm and the vessel rode on an almost even keel, so the ladhad no difficulty in going below. In spite of her comparatively smallsize, the derelict contained many places where persons might be eitherin hiding, or perhaps ill or dead. But Jerry moved quickly about below,using his knowledge of ships which was not small, and as he moved hereand there he shouted.
The echoes of his own voice were the only answers he received, and whenhe had penetrated to the engine room, and even to the stokehold, andhad seen the boilers cold and dead, and not a soul in sight, he came tothe most natural conclusion.
“I’m all alone here!” he exclaimed aloud. Somehow, it seemed lesslonely to speak in this way. “Well, since I’ve got to entertainmyself,” mused Jerry whimsically, “I’m going to see if there isanything I can wear and anything I can eat. Might as well be ascomfortable as I can since I’m to be ‘cook and captain too, and mate’of this derelict. Wonder what her name is, anyhow?”
A look at the one remaining lifeboat--useless as it was,--showedpainted on her bow the words: “_Altaire_, New York.”
“Never heard of her,” mused the lad. “She’s probably some small trampsteamer, and maybe was doing a sort of free and easy freight businessto Europe. The Germans caught her and--good-night! She must have beenfloating around for some time, though.”
Going below again, out of the cold, damp fog, Jerry came upon whathe took to be the cabin of the captain or one of the mates. It boreevidences of having been ransacked, but there was clothing scatteredabout, as was the case in adjoining cabins, and Jerry at once stripped,rubbed himself down well until his whole body was in a glow, andthen he dressed himself in the best of what he found. It was rathernondescript, to say the least.
“But I’m warm, and that’s a whole lot,” reasoned the lone navigator.“And as there’s no one to see me, who cares how I look?”
Warmly clad, though somewhat regretting that he was no longer in UncleSam’s uniform, Jerry’s next thought was of getting something to eat.
“And I only wish old Bob and Ned were here with me to help get up ameal--provided I can find any!” mused the lad. “Wonder what happened tothem. Were they tossed overboard as I was? Or did the _Sherman_ sink?That can hardly have happened, though, or I’d have heard more of acommotion--fellows shouting and so on. Guess she’s all right, but it’smighty queer I’m the only one on board here. What became of ProfessorSnodgrass? And what was he doing on board, and that other queerduck--_le cochon_?”
Jerry paused to reflect a moment, going hastily over in his mind allthat had happened since he had been standing in the fog on the deck ofthe transport conversing with his friends.
“Seems like a week ago, and yet it wasn’t more than two hours,” hedecided. “Well, now for the grub--if there is any!”
Jerry did not need to be told the location of the galley and pantry.He found the place where the ship’s food was prepared, but, like thecabins, the deck, and the engine room--it was drearily empty. There wasa stock of dry wood and some coal near the galley stove, however, andfinding matches in a tin box, Jerry soon had a blaze.
“Feels mighty good, too,” he decided as he rubbed his hands over thefast-warming stove. “Now if I can get something to eat I’ll feel like areal passenger.”
There was, as the lad soon discovered, enough food on board to last along while. Much had been hastily taken away--that was evident--butplenty remained.
Whether the passengers and crew had filled the boats before leavingwhat they believed to be a sinking ship, or whether the Germans hadlooted the _Altaire_, Jerry could not determine.
However, he found some tins of pilot biscuit, some canned bacon, andenough coffee to last him a year, he thought. There was condensedmilk, also, and plenty of sugar, though how the Germans overlookedthat--providing they had been the marauders--it was hard to say.
Moving quickly about, Jerry soon had some bacon sizzling on the stove,its aroma mingling with that of the coffee. Having unearthed a tin ofpreserved butter, Jerry set himself a table. Then, surveying the workof his hands, he exclaimed:
“Not half bad, old top! Not half bad!”
How good that sizzling, crisp bacon and coffee tasted to Jerry Hopkins!He was just finishing his repast and wondering what he had best donext, when he heard a sound up above on deck.
Jerry started so suddenly that he dropped the empty coffee cup he hadbeen about to set down, and it crashed to the floor, breaking into manypieces.
“Are we hitting something else, or has some one come to life on boardhere?” mused Jerry, as he slowly rose from his seat.
The Motor Boys Bound for Home; or, Ned, Bob and Jerry on the Wrecked Troopship Page 19