“Well,” replied the doctor, “it’s something with which reason has nothing to do. The Malays are a bloodthirsty, merciless race. They brood and sulk, until, like that old Roman emperor—Caligula, wasn’t it?—they wish that the human race had only one neck, so that they could sever it with a single blow. They are sick of life and determine to end it all, but before they go, all the pent up poison of hate that has been fermenting in them finds expression in the desire to take as many as possible with them. Then too, there may be some obscure religious idea underneath it all, of offering to the gods as many victims as possible, and thus winning favor for themselves. Or, like the savage despots of Africa, who decree that when they are buried hundreds of their subjects shall be slaughtered and buried in the same grave, they may feel that their victims will have to serve them in the future world. Scientists have never analyzed the matter satisfactorily.”
“Well,” said Dick, as they rose from the table, “one doesn’t have to be a scientist to know this much at least—that wherever a crazy Malay happens to be, it’s a mighty healthy thing to be somewhere else.”
“I guess nobody aboard this steamer would be inclined to dispute that,” laughed the doctor, as they separated and went on deck.
Although his duties did not begin until the following day, Bert was eager beyond anything else to inspect the wireless equipment of the ship, and went at once to the wireless room, followed by the others.
It was with immense satisfaction that he established that here he had under his hand the very latest in wireless telegraphy. From the spark key to the antennae, waving from the highest mast of the ship, everything was of the most approved and up to date type. No matter how skilful the workman, he is crippled by lack of proper tools; and Bert’s heart exulted as he realized that, in this respect, at least he had no reason for complaint.
“It’s a dandy plant, fellows,” he gloated. “There aren’t many Atlantic liners have anything on this.”
“How far can she talk, Bert?” asked Dick, examining the apparatus with the keenest interest.
“That depends on the weather, very largely,” answered Bert. “Under almost any conditions she’s good for five hundred miles, and when things are just right, two or three times as far.”
“What’s the limit, anyway, Bert?” asked Tom. “How far have they been able to send under the very best conditions?”
“I don’t believe there is any real limit,” answered Bert. “I haven’t any doubt that, before many years, they’ll be able to talk half way round the world. Puck, you know, in the ‘Midsummer Night’s Dream’ boasted that he would ‘put a girdle round the earth in forty minutes.’ Well, the wireless will go him one better, and go round in less than forty seconds. Why, only the other day at Washington, when the weather conditions were just right, the officials there heard two stations talking to each other, off the coast of Chili, six or seven thousand miles away. Of course, ships will never talk at that distance, because they can’t get a high enough mast or tower to overcome the curvature of the earth. But from land stations it is only a question of getting a high enough tower. They can talk easily now from Berlin to Sayville, Long Island, four thousand miles, by means of towers seven or eight hundred feet high. The Eiffel Tower at Paris, because still higher, has a longer range. It isn’t so very long ago that they were glad enough to talk across a little creek or canal, a few feet wide. Then they tried an island, three or four miles away, then another, fourteen miles from the mainland. By the time they had done that, they knew that they had the right principle, and that it was only a matter of time before they’d bind the ends of the earth together. It started as a creeping infant; now, it’s a giant, going round the world in its seven league boots.”