CHAPTER XII
SUNDAY AT SEA
It seemed to the boys as though they could never tire of the novelty and charm of the open sea. By Sunday they had explored the perfect little ship Firefly from stem to stern. They had made friends with every man on board and were in the way of accumulating a strange assortment of facts from their new friends.
Sunday services, read by the grizzled old Captain, seemed very solemn and strangely touching. They were held on deck, where the rattling of shrouds and the soft lap of the water made a wonderful accompaniment to the familiar words of the prayer book. The boys could not help noticing that every man listened closely and respectfully. They joined in the responses, and sang lustily when it came time for the hymns.
The Captain did not read a sermon. Instead he closed the book, and for a short five minutes spoke to the men simply, clearly, and to the point. Then there was one more song. Services do not usually end with it; but as the sound rose, the boys thrilled and chilled with patriotism. It was "My Country, 'tis of thee" and those men roared it from the depths of their big, honest, loyal hearts.
When the group scattered, Porky and Beany went forward and stood looking into the distance that bid their Great Adventure. That the Adventure was at that moment approaching, drawing nearer and nearer, they did not dream. The sea looked too calm, too serene, to hide such a terror. They were talking about the safe and quiet crossing they were having when Colonel Bright approached.
"What now, my gay young buccaneer?" he asked, stopping and lighting a cigar.
"We were saying what a good old safe trip we are having," said
Porky.
The Colonel frowned. "Better say that after we arrive," he said, puffing hard.
"Oh, I'm not afraid!" said Porky.
"Nor me!" added Beany.
"I know you are not," said the Colonel. "But there is one thing I always remind my men of. That is this: never be afraid but never fail to be careful. You would be a fool to take a chance with a mad dog, wouldn't you? Well, your enemy is a mad dog or worse, every time, whether he is trying to get your reputation or your life. You never want to take chances. Watch him. Sleep with one eye open. Listen to every breath of wind. Watch, and watch eternally. You are only safe when he is dead, or disarmed and in prison. And never belittle your enemy. Better think of him as bigger than he is, cleverer, and more cunning. When you belittle his strength you give him the advantage because you will not fight so hard. And don't take chances."
"No, sir," said Porky.
"Another thing," said the Colonel. "We are not in the danger zone yet. When we reach that, you will see our Captain taking all the precautions that can possibly be taken. Understand we do not anticipate trouble. This is such a small boat that I scarcely think the Germans would bother with it. At the same time, if by any chance they have found out that we are crossing with important papers, agreements, and chemicals, they will be on the lookout for us and we will have a good chase if we manage to escape. I don't say this to scare you boys; but you are here, and I don't want you to underrate the present danger. I will be good and glad to get across myself. Not a word of this to the others, understand."
He nodded and walked on. The boys looked at each other.
"Wow!" said Porky softly.
For awhile the boys stared out over the sea. "Time for grub,"
Beany finally said.
"Hungry? asked Beany.
"No," said Porky. He laughed. "You know what Colonel Bright's done to me? He's made me imagine things. I thought I saw something over there in the light—way, way off."
Beany stared. "Nothing doing!" he declared. "I could see if it was there, you know."
"Yes, I know your eyes," said Porky nervously. "I saw a gull or a porpoise, I suppose."
"I suppose you didn't see anything," said Beany, scanning the level sea. "Come on down to dinner."
"All right," agreed Porky. He turned from the rail with a last glance seaward. He seized his brother and whirled him about.
"Look! Look!" he cried. "There it is again, straight ahead! What's that?" Beany's keen eyes swept the sea in a lightning glance. Then lie dashed for the companionway and fairly fell into the presence of the Captain.
"A periscope! A periscope!" he gasped.
In another instant the Captain was on the bridge, the glasses at his eyes. He commenced rapping out short orders.
The boys, watching breathlessly, saw the guns trained on the little periscope which, like the reared head of a poisonous snake, came darting at them with a swiftness which seemed incredible. Then everything seemed to, happen at once. The little racer on whose throbbing deck they stood swerved like a frightened colt. Her guns spoke together; and at the same time something slim and long cut cleanly through the water and passed by, missing the Firefly's side so narrowly that the boys felt their knees weaken under them. The periscope shook as the guns volleyed again, wavered uncertainly, and sank from sight.
"We hit her!" said Beany at the rail.
The Firefly, with every ounce of steam on, dashed ahead, doubling here and there and darting about like a frightened hare. A spot of oil appeared on the water.
"Something wrong," said Porky; "but you can bet we are slated to get right out of the immediate vicinity of here at our earliest convenience!"
The Captain, on the bridge, was talking earnestly with Colonel, Bright and the other officers. Every face held a look of almost incredulous relief. The gunners stood close to their steel charges, every man ready for instant action. The Firefly raced ahead, on and on. No one thought of the interrupted meal. No one thought of anything but the danger so narrowly passed. They were still far away from the danger zone. It had been a most unexpected attack.
No one noticed when the sun went down or when dusk fell. Not until darkness wholly hid the sea did they turn from their sea-wide search for approaching danger.
Then the Captain came down from the bridge and approached the boys.
"How did you happen to discover the periscope before the lookout did?" he asked.
Porky spoke for his brother. "It's his eyes," he said. "You see, sir, he has what they call abnormal eyesight. He can see farther and clearer than anybody else. He can see in the dark too, nearly as well as by day. So it wasn't the fault of the lookout that Beany saw it first. He always sees everything before anybody else gets a chance."
"That's odd," mused the Captain. "Well, young fellow, you saved the ship this time all right. It looks as though you had better be stationed on deck when we reach the danger zone. Come down now and get you supper. You never want to go into danger when you are hungry." He slapped Beany on the back and passed on.
The boys followed, suddenly conscious that they had omitted the important ceremony of dinner, but Beany was almost too nervous to eat. He felt as though those keen eyes of his should be on deck. There was a great clatter at the table, the Captain alone sitting in his usual serious silence.
Young Cogggins called out, "Well, that's over with, anyway! They say lightning never strikes in the same place twice."
The Captain smiled. "That's true enough," he said, "but for the sake of safety I had better tell you that these submarines nearly always travel in pairs. We are apt to meet the sister U-boat yet."
A silence fell. "I don't feel sleepy," murmured young Coggins.
"Wouldn't it be nice to sleep on deck to-night?"
"Deck for mine!" said Porky in a low voice. "I will say I don't get many thrills out of this being cooped downstairs when there are subs all around."
"Downstairs!" quoted Coggins scornfully. "Don't let the Captain hear you talking about the 'downstairs' of his ship, you landlubber, you!"
"Well, I don't care what you call it! It's downstairs to me anyhow! And whatever you call it, I don't want to sleep there."
"Bosh!" said Coggins. "I tell you we won't see another sub on the whole trip. Do you know the percentage of boats that see subs on their way over?"
He launched into a flow of statistics. Porky and Beany seemed to listen. In fact they were thinking hard. As usual, they thought the same thing, and as they were fully conscious that they were doing so, they found the process as satisfactory as a regular spoken conversation.
"Me for bed," said Coggins finally.
"You don't mean bed, do you?" asked Porky. "How the Captain would feel if he should hear you call his nice berths 'beds!'"
"I thought you were coming on deck," said Beany.
"Of course not; that was a joke," said Coggins.
"Good-night then," said the boys. They went up on deck. It was perfectly dark. Not even a riding light was shown, and through the darkness at top speed raced the Firefly.
"Sort of thrilling, isn't it?" said Porky in a low tone as they leaned over the rail and looked down at the mysterious water below them. "Gee, I hope we don't get torpedoed! I worry about the Colonel. I don't know how well he can swim, or anything about it. He'd catch cold, too, like as not!" He grinned. "Say, do you know what I did back home? I knew you'd laugh if I told you. I bought a couple pounds of—"
"Chocolate," completed Beany. "I did too."
"Any malted milk tablets?" asked Porky.
"Yep, a couple of bottles."
"Oh, gee! Doesn't it beat anything? I suppose yours are for the
Colonel in case of shipwreck. Just that!"
"Of course", grinned the other twin. "Well, we are well stocked up; and as long as we have done it, let's fix things up in case anything should happen. You know the Colonel will think of himself the very last one. And if anything does happen, old chap, just you stick right by the Colonel."
"You know if there is anything we can do, and do it is swim."
The two boys went down to their stateroom, and got out the precious store of chocolates and malted milk. Each boy put his share in the oil skin water-tight money belt that had been one of Mr. Leffingwell's many gifts. Their money went easily into a much smaller and less complicated carrier that each boy wore around his neck. Then, feeling ready for any emergency, they hurried back to the dark and silent deck. They stayed up until midnight. Then the wind started up, increasing in violence until the chilled watchers took refuge below.
The boys turned in.
It seemed about fifteen minutes when Porky sat up. Beany was leaning down from the upper berth.
"Did you call me?" he asked.
"No, I thought you called me," said Porky.
"All right," said Beany. He swung to the floor. "Hustle and dress. I bet some thing is on foot."
He hustled himself into his clothes and was ready as soon as Porky, who considered himself the record dresser. Together they slipped through the dark passage and went up on deck. The Firefly fled like a wild thing, cutting a swift path through a rough and choppy sea.
They went forward. Motionless, a dark blur against the sky line, they saw the lookout, his eyes searching the waste. Scudding clouds were massing in the east. A storm was on the way. The boys walked the length of the steamer and leaned over the stern, where the water boiled furiously away from the propeller. Close beside them another watch silently studied the surface of the sea. The night lifted a little. It was nearly dawn. The boys felt depressed. Porky turned and studied the sky in the east; Beany kept his keen eyes on the water behind the Firefly. Suddenly be clutched his brother's arm.
"See! See!" he cried. "Where that patch of white shows! She's coming! Look! Look!"
The glass of the lookout swept the waves. "Nothing there," he said gruffly. Then with a gasp he cried loudly, "Torpedo port; torpedo port!"
Porky saw a slim, swift something cleaving the water. It made straight for the ship. His reason told him that it would strike; he grasped his brother by the arm. "The Colonel!" he cried and made for the cabins below.
Their hurried descent was broken by a terrific crash which threw them headlong. They scrambled to their feet and, gaining the Colonel's door, burst it open.
"Quick, quick, Colonel!" they cried.
They bustled him up the companionway. The little Firefly had already listed heavily to port when another torpedo struck her with shattering force. She rocked back and forth, striving to right herself. The boats were being lowered. The Captain called for the Colonel, and insisted on his entering the largest lifeboat. Two other boats were already crowded and launched. The Firefly settled with a sickening motion.
"All off!" cried the Captain. He glanced over the deserted ship, and jumped for the boat the Colonel was sitting in. As he landed a bulky parcel shot past him, and landed at the colonel's feet. Then another bundle sailed accurately through the air. The first was the Colonel's uniform; the second, his great top-coat. On the slanting, shivering deck the twins stood looking down, yelling madly. "Put on your clothes!" Porky was frantically calling.
"Look in the pockets!" called Beany.
The Captain stood up with a despairing gesture. "Jump!" he commanded.
The boys nodded, but instead of obeying, they disappeared behind the cabin. For a moment the men rested on their oars, then at a command from the Captain they pulled furiously away from the sinking ship which threatened to engulf them as she went down. However, they had gained a safe distance before the doomed vessel, rocking back and forth, gained a dreadful momentum, showed her splintered and shattered hull as if in mute excuse for her action, and disappeared forever in the engulfing sea.
The Captain stood looking at the place were the vessel had disappeared.
Colonel Bright buried his face in his hands.
"Gone!" he groaned. "What shall I say to their people?" He choked as he put on the clothes the boys had rescued and thrown after him. He felt in the pocket of the coat as Beany had yelled for him to do. It held a water-proof belt stuffed with chocolate and malted milk tablets. Again he groaned.
"What ailed them? Why didn't they jump?" he asked. Over and over again he asked the question but there was no one to answer. In the distance the other boats were working toward the east. Far the other side of where the doomed boat had gone down, they could see the gray back of the submarine, now lying on the surface. Strangely enough, she did not try to pursue or shell them. The men at the oars rowed furiously to escape. The wind rose, and the rain, which had been drizzling down, commenced to fall in torrents. It made a shield as enveloping as a heavy fog. The submarine was not to be seen, and they, of course, were hidden from her. Hour after hour the rain fell; and all the men rowed, taking turns at the heavy oars. The Colonel sat silent. He could not forget the young gallant pair gone down with the ship, two splendid lives snuffed out in an hour.
Night came to the drenched, hungry men a time of torture. In the morning, the Colonel divided a part of the chocolate, which restored a portion of strength to the rowers. So another day dragged toward its close. The rain had stopped, and a hot sun had dried their clothing. They were beginning to feel the pangs of thirst, but the hoard of chocolate and malted milk tablets mercifully held out. In the far, far distance they could see one of the other boats. The others were gone. Where, they could not tell.
Then at dawn happened the miracle. Out of the dusk a big ship seemed to take form. She was miles away, but to their eyes, growing accustomed only to the unrelenting stretch of sea and sky, she seemed to loom over them.
As it grew lighter, they could see that she was a huge transport with her convoys about her.
Carl Coggins leaped to a seat, tearing off a silk shirt as he did so. He ran a big oar through the sleeves and waved it wildly.
"I have always wanted to do this," he cried. "Now you see why I wouldn't wear a service shirt under my tunic!"
"Wave ahead!" said the Colonel. "Here's hoping they see you!"
The little boatful anxiously watched the great ship and her convoys. Would she pause?