The boat was now rocking violently, and many people had difficulty in keeping their footing. Bob and Joe took chairs that were fastened securely to the floor. They intended to remain awake all night if the storm did not subside.
But exhaustion was stronger than their intentions, and finally they stumbled to their stateroom, ready for a night’s rest.
“Storm or no storm, I’m going to turn in,” Bob said, and then lost his footing and went sprawling to the floor, with Joe on top of him. The ship had suddenly tilted as she struck a mountainous wave.
“Wow!” cried Joe, gripping a water pipe and righting himself. “Better hold tight from now on or we’re likely to get a bad spill.”
By almost a miracle the youths undressed. Then they tumbled into their berths, to go to sleep at once.
About midnight they were awakened by a shrill, long-drawn whistle, and all the sleep knocked out of them, they were on their feet in an instant wondering what was meant by that unusual sound in the dark of the night.