“There now,” came soothingly from Sam. “Don’t worry. If worst comes to worst we can live for several days on ten sardines. I was on a raft once, afloat ten days, and all I had was a pair of boots, and one shoe lace. That was hard lines! And we might eat the cat!”
“Never!” cried the boys.
An hour or more passed, with the Dartaway drifting aimlessly on the ocean, which was beginning to heave as if from the influence of some hidden power. It grew much darker, though it was only about five o’clock.
“Do you s’pose the life-savers will see us?” asked Ned. “They have a station near here, where they came out from to rescue those from the wreck.”
“No chance of them seeing us this far out,” said Sam. “They could see where the wreck was in the mist, as it sent up signal lights. But we haven’t any.”
“I’ll always carry them after this,” spoke Jerry.
The inverted pennant of the boat fluttered a little in the breeze. The haze seemed to grow thicker. The sailor stood up and looked on all sides. Then he tightened the ropes holding the improvised sail, and made it smaller in area, not by reefing it, for there was no way of doing that, but by setting it lower on the rigged “jury” mast. He also took down the ensign.
“No need of losing that,” he said, “and it’s sure to go when the blow comes. It can’t be seen a quarter of a mile away now.”
Now, over the waters, came a strange, weird sound, as though some one had blown on a big conch shell, miles away. It grew in volume until it filled all the air. The boys looked about in wonder.
“It’s the wind! Here comes the storm!” cried Sam.