CHAPTER VI Bombed in Mid-ocean
Darkness covered the scene a minute after that shattering detonation which had lifted the forecastle of the ship in which Larry, and Jim, and Bill were sailing. The deafening report, the shattering sound of raining woodwork and iron, and the swish of timber and bullets as they fell in the water were succeeded by a deathly silence. No one called out, not a cry escaped the crew of the vessel. From that point, half a mile distant across the level surface of the water, from which a brilliant beam had played upon the scene there came not so much as a whisper, not a hail, nothing to denote whence the light came, or from what source—whether enemy or ally—and then, of a sudden, the darkness was rent, though in puny form, by the comparatively feeble light from a torch wielded by Larry. Those who stared down from the bridge to the waist of the ship could make out the dim form of the American, with Jim and Bill near him, and could see Larry's right arm moving up and down, his fist shaking in the direction from which the light had flashed upon them.
"Of all the scoundrels!" he was shouting. "Of all the low-down German skunks! And we was too late to take him, we was, Jim! Gurr!" The fist came down with a bang upon his somewhat attenuated chest, whereupon Larry coughed.
"Silence!" There came a hail from the bridge. "To your boat stations! Larry, come up here, and your friends too, and report what's happened. Mr. Quartermaster, go forward and report."
Mr. Quartermaster promptly carried out the order, in fact he was already on his way for'ard as it came, and presently returned bearing a smoking lantern.
"It's driv her deck right off and blown a hole right down through her, sir," he reported. "There's six foot or more water in the fore part of the vessel, and she's down four foot or more."
"Sinking?" asked the Skipper curtly.
"Aye, sir, sinking!"
"Ah! and how long will she take?"
"Depends!" came the answer. "If the bulkhead holds she might make a port safely. If it don't"—the burly Quartermaster shrugged his shoulders—"if it don't, well it don't!"
For a while they stood there on the bridge, considering the matter, and then the Skipper himself took the lamp and went for'ard, taking Jim and Larry and Bill with him, while the ship's electrician followed with a couple of high-power lamps with which to illuminate the part which had been damaged.
"Not so bad as I thought," said the Skipper after a while, when he had thoroughly examined the matter. "You can douse that light now, for it will be seen far out at sea, and that submarine which picked up the German might become inquisitive. There's a chance of saving her, I think, only it's almost impossible to say at night-time. At the first streak of dawn we'll have a careful investigation of the ship, and meanwhile we'll victual our boats and make all ready. There's one thing I'm glad to see: the explosion has shattered the deck above and has blown a hole downward, but it doesn't seem to have damaged much of our cargo; in fact, the effects of the high-explosive have not spread except directly upwards and downwards; and that is fortunate—that is to say, if we can save the vessel."
The remainder of the night was spent in swinging out the boats and in carefully victualling them all, food and water being placed in every one of them. Then the men sat down on the deck and smoked as calmly as might be, uncertain of the morrow, yet, sailor-like, as confident as ever. As the dawn came, hot coffee was served round together with ship's biscuit.
"It'll do no harm to any one of us," the Skipper said; "and an empty stomach doesn't conduce to high courage; a chilly early morning and hunger don't let a man tackle a job squarely. Now then, we'll have a good look round. Ha! four feet down, you said, Mr. Quartermaster. I should say she was six feet down by the head now. Ugly! Don't like it!"
"Only, she ain't more down than she was last night," came a moment later the most emphatic answer. "I'll swear to it. At night-time a man's likely to be put out a little in his measurements, and that's what's happened, I believe. If she's deeper its only by a matter of six inches, which you'd expect, seeing that I sounded the water in her hold within half an hour of the explosion. If she ain't sunk by now, sir, she won't sink by this time to-morrow; that is, if you don't drive her too hard, and if the weather don't come up over too rough and blowin'."
"If," sniffed Larry. "I'm not a sailor, but even I can see that things are queer. Only if there's a chance of saving her we'll stand by. Trust us!"
A cheer came from the men who stood round waiting for the Skipper to decide finally what was to happen. Once more he went forward, and now that there was bright daylight, and he was able the better to examine the damage, it was not long before he returned to them, his face set, but his eyes bright and glowing.
"She might sink any moment," he told them abruptly, looking round at the expectant faces. "In that case she'd take us all down, and the boats too. Well, those of you who don't like the outlook had better launch a boat or so and clear off."
"Oh! Ah! Aye!" came from the assembled crew, while one—a foreigner from a neutral country—whimpered. Tom, the giant Quartermaster, turned, growling, upon him. Then he swung round.
"What about you, Skipper?" he asked bluntly.
"Yep! what about you?" lisped Larry in his inimitable manner. "Me and Jim and English Bill has got a little inquisitive, ain't we?" he asked, whereat the two chums nodded.
"Aye, very inquisitive!" Jim chimed in.
"And I'll tell you why, sir," Bill said. "If you are not going over the side into one of the boats to pull away, if you are going to stay here with the chance of being pulled under——"
"Well, what of it?" asked the Skipper, his eyes deep sunk, sparkling in the morning sunlight.
"That's all about it, then," Bill answered him, just as abruptly; "we're not going either. You are in command here, and if you tell us it's no longer a case of ordering us to stay, and that you are going to stand by because it's duty or something of that sort, because you are going to save the ship and her cargo, and by doing that to help your country, that means that every mother's son of us that's English stands by you, and every mother's son of us that's an American ally does the same—eh, Larry?"
That individual merely tilted his peaked cap a little forward, hitched up his baggy trousers, and slapped the empty pocket wherein he was wont to keep his revolver.
"Yep," he replied, and finally extricated from the depths of one of his coat pockets the stump of a cigar, which went into its accustomed position. "Yep," he lisped again; "I rather like it, Skipper. Supposin' she was to go down now and pull us with her, it wouldn't be worse than being blown sky-high, the same as that Heinrich something-or-other would have done with us. Sky-high, eh? You wait until I meet him again, I'll 'sky-high' him! But it's get in at it, Skipper. You are staying, so am I, so's English Bill, and so's Jim and Tom and every other mother's son of us. What? No; I've made a mistake. Here's one as wants to go over the side and pull off into safety! You—you——" he began, as he stepped towards the shrinking sailor who had whimpered.
"Stop!" commanded the Skipper. "Lower one of the boats and put this man in it; only, see that there are no oars. He can tow aft, and if the ship shows signs of going down he can cut himself adrift, otherwise if he cuts he will be alone. In any case he will be safe, and that's what he considers of uppermost importance. Now, lads, we've got to hold a council of war. Tom, it's my belief that if we push the old girl along even in this sea, for you can't call it rough, we shall burst in our for'ard bulkheads, swamp her 'midships, and send her down like a stone."
Tom agreed. He nodded that big curly head of his and turned his quid into the other cheek.
"So we'll run her astern. She's sound there, and no sea that's running will do her any harm. It'll make steering a bit of a job, but it's not impossible. Of course I shall lay a course for the nearest port, which means some little corner on the Irish coast. If she gets deeper down in the water, and looks like foundering, I shan't wait to run her into a port, but shall beach her on the first opportunity. After all, boys, it isn't the ship that matters so much, though ships are valuable these days and getting more so, it's the cargo we've got, and that we must save at any hazard."
All through that day the crew stood by the Skipper gamely, so gamely that, what with their jovial faces and their satirical remarks to the sailor seated in the boat towing behind the vessel, that worthy managed to scrape together a modicum of courage. He even begged to be taken aboard, and, finding that no one took the slightest notice of him, finally pulled on the rope, and, getting close under the bows of the vessel, now sadly sunk and projecting only a little way from the water, he managed to clamber aboard, and found his way across the wrecked planking.
Towards evening the wind, which had been swinging round to the west since the early hours, veered to the east and began to blow more strongly. The swell, which had rocked the vessel ever so gently during the day, became bigger, and soon waves were washing against her sides and were causing her to roll and to plunge, every plunge sending her bows deep under, till at times it appeared they would never rise again. Yet the crew stuck to their posts. Fortunately, too, every hand was required to assist in navigating the vessel, for, going astern as she was, it was no easy task to keep her on a course, and at least four men were required at the wheel, which now steered her, her automatic steam steering-gear having got out of order. What with preparing the boats, making ready for their rapid launching, cooking food, hauling ropes, and standing by the wheel, every member, whether steward or deck-hand, had ample employment, and therefore sufficient distraction from his dangerous surroundings.
Yet in spite of distractions it became greatly and increasingly obvious to all that the vessel was sinking deeper, that her buoyancy was gone, that she lifted now so very slowly from the trough of the seas that a larger one following in her wake might easily overwhelm her. Yet the eyes of the Skipper still flashed and glowed as warmly as ever; Larry strutted the deck as gamely as he had done on the first day when he had stepped aboard as she lay in the Hudson River; Jim, his arms bare to the elbow, worked as cheerily as any member; while Bill—English Bill, as he had naturally come to be called—carried on as though nothing out of the usual was occurring. It was five o'clock in the evening when the Skipper, pointing to the Irish coast-line, now some four miles distant, gave the order to beach the vessel.
"She may or she may not carry as far as that," he added, his lips compressed together. "If she does, it's a flat beach and a high tide, so the cargo will be salved without much difficulty, even the vessel might be salved later on, though I am not thinking of her in particular. Keep her on that course, Mr. Quartermaster; she'll do. I'll go right for'ard so as to con her when we get to close quarters. English Bill, you come along too, and bring Larry and Jim. You might be useful."
The sun was sinking, and already evening was drawing in, but the light was sufficiently good to enable all hands to see the Irish coast clearly. Peering at it through the glasses which the Skipper lent him, Bill could make out a flat pebbly shore, with land rising gradually from it. It looked indeed the very place on which to beach a vessel, and, better than all, the beach seemed to stretch for miles, so that though the ship could only steer an erratic course it was hardly likely that she would miss some portion of the part selected for landing.
"What's that? Look yonder!" Jim called out a few minutes later, as, having watched the shore for a time, he swept his eyes seaward. "That, sir——"
"A submarine! Possibly the one that took off that rascal last night. A submarine without doubt, and coming to the surface. She's up! She's raising her guns! There's no doubt that she took it for granted last night that the bomb had destroyed us, and, finding us now still floating and about to beach the vessel, she's going to shell us. Stand by, boys! You three remain here, so as to help con the vessel; I'll go on to the bridge to make other arrangements."
Cool and determined, he ran aft to the bridge, and gained it as the submarine opened fire upon them. A shell, indeed, flicked its rapid path just above the bridge, and hitting the charthouse, stripped the roof from it.
"Boys," called out the Skipper, as cool as ever, "swing out the two boats here on the starboard side. The ship will give them shelter. Lower them into the water and let 'em tow. Now, all hands at it! One moment, though. You, Tom Spencer, get down to the engine-room and send the Chief Engineer to me."
As the vessel's screws pulled her still nearer to the Irish coast, and the men set to work, rapidly yet in good order and without confusion, to lower the boats on the side farthest from that point where the submarine had made its appearance, the guns aboard the latter—for she carried two—got the range and began to burst shrapnel over her decks. A man fell; the front of the bridge and the canvas screen along it were torn into shreds. Another man, standing on the bulwark guiding the falls of one of the boats, let go his hold, staggered, and tumbled head foremost into the water. An instant later Tom, the Quartermaster, dived in after him, and as the Skipper looked over the side he saw the sturdy form of the lusty sailor rise to the surface bearing the man in one arm. By then a couple of hands had swung down the falls into the boat, and the two were dragged into her.
Crash! A shell plunged across the decks near the after part of the vessel, where Jim and Larry and Bill stood, and, hitting the deck house which sheltered the steam steering-gear, rent it as if it were made of cardboard. The explosion drove the trio to the rails, and left them staggered and gasping. Another, bursting high amidships, flung the men at the wheel in all directions.
"Steady, boys!" called out the Skipper. "Four more of you get to that wheel! Larry, how's she doing?"
"As straight as a die! She'll do!" came the cheery answer. "Now, you young chaps," went on Larry, as a shell ricochetted from the sea close under the stern of the vessel, "you two had best get along towards the bridge and go over the side into the boats. The hands are all tumbling into 'em. They'll be clear of shells there, the ship'll give 'em shelter."
"And you?" asked Jim, while Bill looked sharply at Larry, looked quite indignantly at him in fact.
"Me——?" began Larry, as though he were intensely astonished at the question. "Oh, me? I've been given the job of staying here, but you ain't. You cut off, you two."
There might have been an explosion on the spot, judging from the appearance of Jim and Bill. They were, in fact, on the point of reminding their chum that they too had received orders.
"Leave the job? Funk it?" began Bill.
"See here," Jim shouted. "I—we——"
The arguments, whatever they were, were cut short by a blinding flash, by a shattering detonation, then, so far as the trio were concerned, by nothingness. A shell had burst against the ship's counter, wrecking her rudder and smashing a huge hole in her plates just above the water-line. In its course it crumpled the deck above upwards as if it had been made of paper, and, bursting its way through, probably ricochetting from one of the main beams of the vessel, it scattered Jim and Bill and Larry in the very midst of their argument. It flung them far from the ship, and sent them sprawling in the water, where, fortunately for them, the cold revived them and helped to keep them conscious. Yet it was only in a half-conscious way, automatically, as it were, that each one battled and supported himself in the water, while his head swam, his brain reeled, and his ears were filled with strange noises.
Little by little the ship passed on. Now and again other shells crashed against her. More than once, Bill, peering through his wet eyelashes at her, heard the sound of voices, and then presently saw a beam of light flash from the shore, and watched as the vessel slowly grounded.
"Saved her!" he shouted, and then subsided, as the sea washed into his mouth and set him choking.
Something touched his shoulder. Something gripped him by his sodden coat-sleeve. He turned, and there, staring at him, illuminated by the beam from the shore, was a face with which he was familiar, no one could have mistaken it. It was the thin, cadaverous, smiling face of Larry, with those twinkling, merry eyes of his, that happy-go-lucky, inimitable look with which he always favoured his friends and his enemies.
"You!" he shouted, "and here's Jim too! Here, hang on, young Bill, we've got hold of something that looks like a bit of a boat. Now, if we get washed ashore, what a landing!"
"Only——!" Jim, who lay athwart the shattered boat, peering at the shore, blinking in the light, stretched an arm across their faces and directed their attention to a point closely adjacent. "Look there!"
It was the submarine, now awash with the surface, her conning-tower thrown open. A man was standing there, while on the deck below there were a couple of German sailors armed with rifles. Did they see the three wallowing in the water? Were they going to shoot them down? Heaven knows! German sailors, to their eternal dishonour, have shot down helpless people—aye, helpless women and children, too—in open boats after similar submarine warfare. But no. The submarine came closer, the officer in the conning-tower gave a sharp order and shouted. A man slid down her bulging side with a rope round his waist, and a minute or so later the three friends had been hauled on to her narrow deck. Then a guttural voice ordered them to clamber to the conning-tower.
THE THREE FRIENDS ARE HAULED ABOARD THE U-BOAT
As the good ship, which they had so gallantly helped to salve, settled down on the pebbly shore of Ireland, a wreck no doubt, yet with her cargo more or less intact, and, as it proved, easily and successfully salved, Bill and Jim and Larry found themselves prisoners in the submarine, motoring away into the North Sea, bound for a German prison.