“I don’t really believe they could have rammed us hard enough to have done any damage,” he said.
“Well, it certainly felt so,” declared Bob.
“And I’m just as glad we drove them away,” said Judd.
As for Professor Snodgrass, he said little. He was too much occupied in classifying and making notes of the various forms of life he found on the bunch of seaweed he had brought on board with him.
Aside from attending now and then to the rude sail that had been hoisted, and steering the craft, which did not require much effort, as she did not move rapidly, there was nothing to do on the derelict except, as Bob said, “to get meals and eat ’em.”
Of course the distress signals were kept flying by day, and the lanterns at night gave notice to whoever might glimpse them that they were carried by a craft which needed help for those on board. And outside of seeing that these signals and lights were kept in place, there was nothing that could be done.
It was utterly impossible for the four to start the engines. The small sail was their only motive power. There was no need of using the steam pumps, for the Altaire was not leaking save in one or two compartments, and the water-tight bulkheads kept the sea from invading other parts of the craft. Even had it been necessary to get steam up for the pumps, it is doubtful if it could have been managed.
All they could do was to wait and hope, and this was wearying enough after the first week.
Each morning they began a vigil that lasted all day, and even into the night, for they knew the lights of an approaching vessel could be seen farther after dark than could the form of the ship itself during the day. But they sighted nothing.