CHAPTER XIV—THE MIRAGE
Phil Morgan, coming up suddenly from the berth deck just as sweepers were piped at 5:20 in the morning, fairly overturned a smaller lad who had been straddling the top of the ladder.
“Hi, you sea-going elephant, you!” complained Ikey Rosenmeyer’s voice. “Look where you are going!”
“‘Keep off the engine room hatch’,” chuckled the older lad, quoting one of the emphasized orders from the manual. “Haven’t you learned that yet?”
“No more than you have learned that ‘Whistling is never permitted aboard ship’,” rejoined Ikey, getting up and rubbing his elbows.
“Wasn’t whistling!” denied Morgan.
“Well, your lips were all puckered up, just the same. And you know what old Jehoshaphat,” he observed, using the nickname for the chief master-at-arms, “said that time about your doing that. It’s just as bad to look like you were whistling as to do it.”
“Aw, he’s deaf and was afraid I was putting something over on him,” Morgan declared, and immediately proceeded to “pucker up” again in a silent tune.
It was true that Phil Morgan had received more than one demerit when first he had come to sea because of this proclivity of his for whistling. He had really been driven to the extremity of carrying a couple of small burrs under his tongue to remind him of the infraction of ship rules he was about to commit whenever he thoughtlessly prepared to whistle.
The Navy Boys had had a good many rules besides these two quoted above to learn. And not only to learn, but to obey! Excuses are not accepted in the Navy. Anybody who has ever looked through the Bluejacket’s Manual will be impressed by these facts.
Every waking hour of the day has its duties for the men and boys aboard ship. Especially for the apprentice seamen class to which Whistler and his friends belonged. Their “hitch” was for four years, or until they were twenty-one. And the more they learned and the higher they stood in their various classes, the better their general rating would be if they enlisted for a second term.
This last was their intention and expectation. They were by no means cured of their love for the sea or their interest in the Navy by the hard experiences they had suffered.
For that Philip Morgan and his chums had been through some serious experiences since the war began could not be overlooked. But they were just the sort of lads to enjoy what some people might consider extremely perilous adventures.
The daily routine of duty aboard the Colodia at times seemed tedious; but the Navy Boys managed to stir up excitement in some form if routine became too dull. In fact, the two younger chums, Ikey Rosenmeyer and Frenchy Donahue, were inclined to be venturesome and at times they got into trouble with the authorities.
This fact occasioned Whistler at this early hour to wonder what Ikey was doing at the head of the berth deck ladder. This was not the younger lad’s watch. He caught Ikey by the arm and led him to the rail. They were careful not to lean on the rail or on the lifelines, for that was against orders.
“What are you watching here for, anyway?” the older lad demanded.
“For the sun,” grinned Ikey.
“What you giving me? You don’t suppose the sun has forgotten to rise, do you?”
“Dunno. Haven’t seen him yet.”
“It isn’t time.”
“Well, I’m keeping my eyes open,” said Ikey with twinkling eyes but serious face.
“Shucks! What’s the game, anyway?” demanded Whistler.
“Why,” said Ikey, “the sun went down so blamed sudden last night that I wasn’t sure whether it really set same as usual, or just that the old fellow went out of business entirely. Didn’t you notice it?”
“Ah!” exclaimed the older lad, seeing the light, if not the sunlight. “Don’t you know that we are getting nearer and nearer to the tropics, and that there is mighty little twilight there?”
“No!”
“Fact. Night falls very suddenly.”
“‘Sudden!’ You said it!” ejaculated Ikey. “It’s enough to take your breath. I told Frenchy I wasn’t sure the sun would ever come up again.”
The fingers of Dawn were already smearing pale colorings along the eastern sky. The two boys watched the growing day wonderingly. No two sunrises are alike at sea, and Whistler was never tired of watching the changing sky and ocean.
This was the morning following the S O S call regarding the attack of the super-submarine on an Argentine ship. The Colodia was pounding away at a furious rate toward the place which the wireless had whispered; but the spot was still some leagues away.
It was a cloudy morning, the clouds being all around the horizon with the promise of clear sky overhead. Windrow upon windrow of mist rolled up above the horizon. The light in the east was half smothered by the clouds.
“I guess the old sun will get here on the dot,” said Whistler, in a mind to turn away to go about his duties.
“I’m going to wait for him,” said Ikey stubbornly. “No knowing what tricks he might play. Hi! Look there!”
Whistler, as well as Ikey, suddenly became interested in what they saw upon the western sky. There was a stratum of cloud floating there, beneath which the horizon—the meeting line of sky and sea—was clear. The spreading light of dawn imparted to this horizon line a clearness quite startling. It was as though it had been just dashed on with a brushful of fresh paint.
The floating cloudland was pearl gray above and rose pink beneath; and that streak of “fresh paint” on the horizon line separated this cloudland from the dull blue water.
The sun would soon pop up above the eastern sea line, despite Ikey’s pessimism, and his coming rays were already touching lightly the clouds above.
“Look at that! Isn’t it great?” breathed Whistler. “Why, you can just about see through that cloud. It doesn’t seem real.”
“Clouds aren’t supposed to be very solid,” scoffed Ikey, unappreciative of the poetry in his mate’s nature. “Only air and water.”
“Huh! Two of the three principal elements,” snapped Whistler. “Where’s your science, smart boy? And that plane of cloud——”
“Looks just like the flat sea below it,” suggested Ikey, his interest growing.
“You’re right, it does!” admitted Whistler. “See! I believe that cloud is a reflection of the sea beneath. I bet it isn’t a cloud at all!”
“Then I guess I was right,” chuckled Ikey. “Nothing very real about it, is there?”
Mr. MacMasters came forward along the Colodia’s deck just as Ikey made this reply. He addressed the two friends smilingly:
“What is all the excitement, boys? Haven’t spotted a submarine, have you, Rosenmeyer?”
Whistler turned to the ensign and waved a hand toward the phenomenon in the west.
“What do you think of that out there, Mr. MacMasters?” he asked.
“I am not sure, but I think we are being vouchsafed a sight not often noted at sea—and at this hour. It looks like a mirage.”
“Oi, oi!” murmured Ikey. “I understand now why it looks so funny.”
Whistler said: “Then that is a reflection of the sea up there in the air?”
“Hanging between sea and sky, yes,” said the ensign. “A curious phenomenon. But not, in all probability, a reflection of the sea directly under that cloudlike vision.”
“No, sir.”
“Probably a reflection photographed on the clouds of a piece of the ocean at a distance—just where one could scarcely figure out even by the use of the ‘highest of higher mathematics’,” and the ensign laughed.
“A mirage,” repeated Whistler. “Well, I never saw the like before.”
“It looks just like a piece of the ocean, doesn’t it?” said Ikey eagerly. “But there are no ships——”
He broke off with a startled cry. Mr. MacMasters and Whistler echoed the ejaculation. Everybody on deck who had paid any attention to the mystery in the sky showed increased interest.
Rising slowly and distinctly upon the reflective surface of the reflected sea was an object which the onlookers watched with growing excitement and wonder. It was the outlines of a ship—but not an ordinary ship!
It had upperworks and the two stacks of a steam freighter. It was of the color of the sea itself—gray; yet its outlines—even the wire stays—were distinct!
The sea shown in the mirage had been absolutely empty. Now, of a sudden, this ghostly figure had risen upon it. Whistler Morgan caught Mr. MacMasters by the arm. He was so excited that he did not know he touched the officer.
“Look at it! Do you know what it is?” he gasped. “That’s a submarine—a huge submarine. She’s just risen to the surface.”
“It’s the sub we’re looking for!” cried Ikey, hoarsely. “My goodness, see it sailing up there in the sky!”