How astonished Henry was as he watched the little boat fight its way over to the derelict. Now it went up, up, up, until it reached the very crest of a wave, then it dropped into the trough-like depression just ahead and was almost lost to sight, only to come shooting upward again on the next billow. So it made its way to the derelict. Meantime the entire crew of the Iroquois leaned over the rail, watching.
To the astonishment of the onlookers, the small boat turned shortly after it reached the wreck and pulled straight back to the Iroquois without making any attempt to destroy it. The captain awaited the return of the boat by the leeward rail.
“What’s the difficulty, Mr. Hill?” he called, when the small boat came within speaking distance.
“We need some storm oil and a drip-bag,” shouted the lieutenant through cupped hands. “It’s so rough that we can’t get close to her.”
The desired materials were brought and the small boat returned toward the derelict. Meantime, the oil had been poured from the can into the drip-bag, which was merely a conical bag of tightly-woven duck stuffed with oakum. When the boat had pulled some distance to windward of the hulk, a sailor jabbed several holes in the drip-bag with a knife-point, and the bag was hung out over the water on the end of an oar. But apparently the effect was not all Mr. Hill hoped for, for presently the boat pulled around to leeward of the hulk and the dripping process was repeated.
“What are they doing?” asked Henry.
“Oiling the water,” said the executive officer, who stood near him. “That is to stop the waves from breaking.”
Henry had heard that oil would still the troubled waves, but it hardly seemed credible that little drops of oil could produce the effect he now witnessed, for slowly but surely the sea about the derelict grew calmer. To be sure, the water still rose and fell, but no longer did the wave crests break. Like a billowing sea of glass was the ocean, rather than a storm-torn sheet of water.
Now the small boat came close to the old hulk. A length of strong wire, with a mine attached, was fastened to the hulk, and the mine lowered so that it hung just below the bottom of it. Then the small boat rowed off to windward, paying out as it went the detonating wires attached to the mine. Three hundred yards away the boat was stopped. The lieutenant touched off his electric battery. There was a tremendous explosion. The sea heaved upward like a waterspout, and great pieces of the shattered bottom of the derelict were blown aloft, shooting up and up and up until they were a thousand feet in air. Presently they came raining down again, some of them dangerously close to the Iroquois’ small boat.
When Henry looked at the sea again, the derelict had disappeared. But several dangerously large pieces of the hulk still floated. Immediately Lieutenant Hill began to herd these together. When they were all collected, the sailors lashed them together, a second mine was secured beneath them, and once more the small boat pulled away to the length of the detonating wires. Again there was a terrific explosion, and this time the shattered bits of wreckage shot even higher into the air than they had gone before. When they had all dropped back into the sea again, the small boat rowed back to where the derelict had been, but nothing big enough to menace navigation now floated above the waves.