Bert Wilson, Wireless Operator

by J. W. Duffield

Their search of the deck revealed nothing. Everything seemed undisturbed. The life-boats and even the little dinghy were in their places. All was perfectly ship-shape, but over everything was the silence of desertion.

While the deck was being searched by the four men, the others, including Bert and Dick and Tom, went below, for, here in the cabin, they hoped to find some solution of the mystery. But again they found the same chilling silence, the same absolute desertion.

In the state-rooms the bunks were made up and all was in order. An uncompleted letter lay on the captain’s table and an open book lay face-downward on the bed. In the cabin the only sign of haste or disturbance was found. The table was set for breakfast with the food upon it only partly eaten. Chairs were pushed back from it and one was overturned. A handkerchief lay on the floor as if hastily dropped, but there was no further sign of panic or of any struggle.

Someone suggested that the storm had driven them away in panic. Mr. Collins soon proved to them the fallacy of that supposition by calling attention to an unfinished garment which lay on a sewing machine in one of the state-rooms. A thimble and spool of cotton lay beside it. In a storm these things would inevitably have been thrown to the floor. He showed them further that the breakfast things on the table were in their places and not overturned as they must have been in the storm. Then, too, the coffee in the urn was barely cold, and the fire in the galley stove was still burning. This proved conclusively that up to almost the last moment before the desertion of the ship, all was normal and peaceful on board. “And,” he continued, “if there were nothing else the last entry in the ship’s log would show that she was not deserted until after the storm.”

While everyone listened with keenest interest, he read them the account entered there of the storm, the gallant behavior of the Aurora, and the safety of all on board. The entry was made with the kind of ink that writes blue but afterwards turns black, and the officer called their attention to the fact that the ink was not yet black.

“Why,” said he, “they must at this moment be only a very few miles from the ship. Did anyone ever hear of anything like this?” wondered Dick. “Such a little while ago, and absolutely nothing to show why they went. I’d give a whole lot to know.”

“Well, anyway, it is evident,” said Bert as they examined the galley, “that it was not hunger or thirst that drove them away,” and he pointed to the shelves of the pantry, well stocked with meats and vegetables and fruits, and lifted the cover from the water tank and showed it full of sweet water.

With the feeling of wonder and amazement growing upon them, they examined every corner of the ship from deck to hold, but found no sign of living creature, nor any clue to the profound mystery. Cold shivers began to run up and down their spines.

“What on earth or sea,” said the irrepressible Tom, voicing the inmost thought of every mind, “could have driven a company of men to abandon a ship in such perfect condition as this schooner is?” and again all stood silent in a last effort to solve the problem.

“Well,” said Mr. Collins, “we have made a most thorough search and nothing can be gained by remaining here longer.” So, only waiting to procure the ship’s log that he had laid upon the table, he led the way to the deck. With a last look about them, in the vain hope of finding some living creature, they clambered into the boat and rowed back to the Fearless.