"I wish the Greys would capture the Whites," he thought vindictively, as he followed Roger across the slippery deck. "Then I'd never have to leave this ship." The kind-hearted Read Bird was carrying a pail of hot chocolate down to Nikobo on the raft. She could not get her great snout into the bucket, but she opened her enormous mouth and with one toss Roger poured the whole pail down her throat.
"That'll keep her warm till morning," chuckled Roger, flying back to join Tandy, "and now you'd better turn in, little fellow, for you're on morning watch and eight bells will be sounding before you know it!" All through his dreams about the Whites and Greys Tandy heard the raucous voice of the fog horn, and when he rolled sleepily out of his bunk to relieve Ato, the ship seemed to be hardly moving at all.
"Ahoy, Captain! Isn't a fog dangerous?" Tandy's voice seemed more hopeful than worried, and Samuel Salt, peering down at the little boy buttoned to his chin in Peter's old sou'easter, grinned approvingly.
"Just about as dangerous as a man-eating tiger," he answered cheerfully. "We're liable to ram a ship, run on the rocks, or scrape our bottom on a hidden reef or sand bar. These waters, as you know, being all unnavigated. But I've brought Sally along to keep my nose warm and throw a bit more light on the subject and we'll have to take our chance—eh, Matey? Just step aft and see if you can make out anything astern, will you, Tandy?"
Four o'clock, or rather eight bells, was always pretty dark and one had to depend more or less on the ship's lanterns, but this morning was the darkest Tandy had ever experienced. Clinging to the rail, he moved cautiously to the stern and gazed intently down into the gloom. Nothing an inch beyond his nose was visible and as for the raft and Nikobo, they might just as well not have been there.
"Kobo, Kobo, are you all right?" There was no answer to Tandy's call, but presently a huge and resounding snore rolled upward and, greatly comforted, Tandy hurried back to the Captain. Samuel Salt was busy lighting extra lanterns and as he straightened up, a hollow boom, followed by a splintering crash, sent them both sprawling to the deck. Leaping to his feet and unmindful of the glass from the shattered lanterns, Samuel seized an unbroken one and ran furiously to the rail.
"Ship ahoy! Heave to! you blasted son of a cuttle-fish lubber! You've rammed us amidships, you blasted Billygoat. Where are your lights? Why didn't ye sound the horn?" His lantern, held far over the rail, made no impression at all on the choking fog. Jumping up and running after Samuel, Tandy strained his eyes for a glimpse of the ship that had hit them, for unmistakably to his ears came the scrape and rasp of wood on wood. Yes, surely it was a ship. But no answer to Samuel's hail came out of the fog, only the swish and murmur of the sea and the rattle of wind in the rigging. But all this creaking could not come from the Crescent Moon alone. There was a ship beyond them in the fog, but where, as Samuel had demanded, were her lights and crew? Wildly Tandy, hardly knowing what to think or do, continued to blink into the maddening darkness. Ato and Roger, wakened by the horrible jolt, now came hurrying out, each waving a lantern.
"Let go the anchor, Mates," ordered Samuel in a stern voice, "we're to grips with an enemy ship, so stand by for trouble. Further shortening his sail, Samuel waited tensely for the first move from their invisible foe.
"Might be pirates," he whispered out of the corner of his mouth to Tandy, who stood close beside him grasping the scimiter that had once been Peter's. "Jump the first man aboard."