Kitabı oku: «The Radio Boys Under the Sea: or, The Hunt for Sunken Treasure», sayfa 5
CHAPTER XI
THE WRATH OF THE STORM
For a few minutes his eyes rolled wildly as he viewed the tumbling waste of waters, but he soon overcame his dismay far enough to stagger over to Benton with the pot of coffee. The boys made their way to the same place, and the hot black liquid gave them renewed courage. Then the negro darted back to his galley, and presently reappeared with a tin pail full of sandwiches, which he sheltered from the spray under his ragged coat. These the boys thankfully devoured, after which they felt in better shape to face the perils of the night that was now falling rapidly over the tossing waste.
Benton had hoped that the storm would exhaust itself almost as quickly as it had arisen, but, on the contrary, as night fell it seemed to increase in fury. It was a fearsome thing to see the pale sheen of a great roller looming up over the stern, and the boys would hold their breaths, expecting every second to have some watery mountains come crashing down on their little craft and carry it to the bottom. At times great seas did come aboard, entirely engulfing them until the ship shook itself free and rose, shuddering, to the next blow.
Through it all Benton clung doggedly to the wheel, half smothered by the flying surges, but sticking gamely to his post. Phil fought his way aft at last, and offered to relieve him, but Benton refused to give up the wheel.
“I’ll hang on a while longer,” he yelled, “You go forward into the bows, Phil, and keep a lookout. Heaven only knows where we’re driving to, and it will be a miracle if we miss some of the reefs and islands around here. All I can do is keep us headed before the waves, and leave the rest to Providence.”
Phil shouted a few words of encouragement, which it is doubtful if Benton heard above the fiendish uproar of the storm, and groped his way forward, clutching desperately at anything that came to hand to keep from being swept overboard. Most of the rail had been demolished, so that there was nothing to save any of them from being swept over the side if they once lost their hold on some securely fastened object.
At length Phil reached the bows, and wedged himself in between the side and the capstan, straining his eyes through the inky blackness. Soon it began to rain in torrents, but this made little difference to any of the party, as they were already soaked to the skin and had been for many hours.
Swept by rain and sea, and almost deafened by the howling of the wind, Phil peered ahead, striving to pierce the murky darkness. Long ridges of white foam hissed by, so close that he could dip his hand in as the bow dropped into some boiling eddy. High above all else rose the booming and whistling of the wind, and this kept him from hearing an even greater sound until suddenly he saw a huge spout of foam not a hundred feet ahead of the ship, and at the same time heard the menacing roar of breakers.
With a shout that was lost in the uproar of the elements, he sprang to his feet and raced aft, forgetful of the seas washing across the deck. But by the time he reached Benton, the latter had also seen the ominous spout of foam, and the roar of the reef was loud in their ears as they drove toward it under the pitiless urge of sea and gale. To change their course was out of the question then, and their only hope lay in driving through some passage in the reef.
Now the reef was almost under their bows, and they all held their breath, waiting for the shock that seemed inevitable. On every side great waves leaped and hammered on the reef, spouting fifty feet into the air in sheets of foam that fell back booming onto the deck of the vessel. The surf was tremendous beyond description, and the Fleeting was picked up and whirled about like a toy. A giant roller reared its crest over them, picked them up in its mighty grasp, and hurled them toward the spouting inner reef.
With a crashing impact the vessel struck – shivered – rose – and struck again, with a sickening crunch of riven timbers. Then with the last of its expiring strength the tremendous wave smashed them clear over the reef, while a flood of roaring water tore everything living from the decks and hurled them toward the beach some three hundred feet distant.
Lucky it was for them that they were all strong swimmers. Battered and dazed, they found themselves in the lesser surf that beat upon a sandy beach, and after a desperate, choking struggle, Phil and Benton dragged themselves out upon the sand. A pale dawn was glimmering in the east, and by the sickly light they could make out black dots still struggling in the raging surf, and they knew that these must be their comrades. Almost exhausted themselves, they hesitated not a moment, but rushed back into the combing waves and deadly undertow to rescue the others.
Time and again they were swept from their feet and had to struggle desperately to regain the beach. The first one they pulled out was Dick, and, although more dead than alive, he immediately turned to and helped. Tom came next, still swimming feebly, but overwhelmed again and again by the breaking waves. There remained then only Bimbo, who could not swim, but was clinging desperately to a floating spar. As often as a wave washed him toward shore, the powerful undertow drew him out again, and he was fast weakening under the strain.
Under Benton’s directions they all joined hands, thus forming a living chain, and then battled their way into the surf once more. Phil was the outermost, and as the negro was swept shoreward on a big breaker, Phil stretched out a hand to him. The faithful darky just managed to grasp the outstretched hand as the undertow caught the spar and sucked it seaward. With a tremendous effort Benton, who was nearest the beach, exerted all his remaining strength, and they all staggered shoreward out of the inferno of breaking waves and clutching undertow. With a final desperate effort they shook themselves clear, and dropped, panting and exhausted, onto the wet sand of the beach.
For some time they lay scarcely able to move, but at length their strength began to return, and they struggled to their feet and took note of their surroundings.
Some hundred yards from the beach lay the wreck of their vessel. When it had struck the reef the mast had gone overboard, and the erstwhile trim ship was now a melancholy sight, with the waves breaking over her deck at short intervals. Fortunately, the outer reef broke the force of the rollers, so that the ship seemed in no immediate danger of smashing up, and they resolved to get as many of her stores as possible ashore as soon as the storm abated. But at present there was little they could do in that quarter, and they turned their attention to the island upon which they were stranded.
The beach was perhaps a hundred yards wide. At its landward edge were low sand hills covered with coarse grass, and beyond this rose the tall trees and tangled creepers of a dense jungle. Beyond this again the land rose steeply into a series of ridges, and as the little party gazed the same idea seemed to strike them all at the same time, and they looked at each other in startled wonder. Was it possible that an adverse Fate was relenting toward them?
Without a word Benton drew the old Spaniard’s map from the waterproof belt in which he always carried it, and they eagerly compared it with the jagged outlines before them. There were the same peaks before their eyes that the old pirate had seen and noted two hundred years before, and as they traced the unmistakable similarity the boys gave a shout of exultation. By what seemed little short of a miracle they had been cast upon Sawtooth Island!
But after their first feeling of exultation had passed, they realized that they would be as well off on any other island, unless, indeed, they could salvage some of their diving apparatus from the sunken vessel. Their immediate need was food and shelter, and without loss of time they set themselves to finding both. Thousands of clams and mussels had been thrown up on the beach, and they each gathered a quantity of these and ate them raw. Then, feeling much stronger, they set out to look for some kind of shelter from the heavy tropical rain that was still falling in torrents. There was obviously no shelter on the beach, so they approached the forest that hemmed it on three sides.
But when they reached the belt of dense vegetation, they were met by such a tangle of vines and undergrowth as defied penetration without the aid of knives and axes. They skirted slowly along the edge, looking for some opening, and at length Bimbo’s roving eyes detected the merest trace of a path through the trees.
“Dar’s a place we kin get in!” he shouted, and raced for the opening. But when he reached it he very prudently waited for the others to arrive before he ventured in.
They had to walk single file, and even at that it was slow going, as the path was encumbered by fallen trees, and great vines were festooned across it like ropes, and they had to duck under these to make any progress at all. They had almost decided to give it up for the present and return to the beach, when suddenly the path widened out into a small clearing, and they stopped to look about them.
At one edge of the clearing towered a pile of great boulders, rising so steeply that even the rank jungle vegetation had not been able to lodge on them. At the base of this granite mass there was a heavy growth of bushes and creepers, but from experience the boys knew that where there were rocks there was very apt to be a cave, and their need of shelter was urgent, as they had not had dry clothing on them for almost twenty-four hours, and were chilled to the bone.
They approached the rocks, and searched for some sign of a crevice that might protect them from the sullen tropical downpour.
Phil was the first to meet with success. As he tore up a big bush by the roots, he could see a black opening in the rock, and his shout brought the others to the spot.
CHAPTER XII
SHIPWRECKED
“That looks promising,” said Benton. “Let’s explore it and see if it amounts to anything,” and suiting the action to the word, he dropped to his knees and crawled into the narrow passage, that was barely wide enough to admit his broad shoulders. The others followed close behind, all except Bimbo, who preferred to wait in the open air.
“Dere’s no tellin’ whut kind ob a conjur dere may be in dat place, an’ Ah ’lows Ah’ll stay outside,” he declared, with chattering teeth, and no amount of persuasion could get him to follow the others.
For their part, they were willing to risk worse things than ‘conjurs’ to find a place where they could dry out, and they had not gone far when their persistence was rewarded. After about twenty feet the narrow passage widened out into a roomy cave, with a floor of hard dry sand. A faint light trickled down through some opening above, so that they could dimly make out the interior. In one corner were the remains of a rude stone fireplace, and the little party were delighted with their discovery. There were even a few sticks of wood lying beside the fireplace, rotted and crumbling, but ideal material for starting a fire. Luckily Benton had a small waterproof box of matches on his person, and in a few minutes they had a fire snapping and crackling in the ancient fireplace. It flickered and danced on the rough stone walls, casting grotesque shadows as they all crowded about it and absorbed some of its welcome warmth. Phil went back to fetch Bimbo, and after much persuasion got him to enter the narrow passage. The negro’s eyes rolled as he saw the red glint of the fire at the further end, but Phil had craftily made him go first, so that there was no chance to retreat. But when he finally reached the big cave, which was already filled with the cheery warmth from the fire his fear changed suddenly to joy, and he capered about, executing impromptu jig steps and clapping his hands.
“Ef Ah only had somethin’ heah to cook, A’d turn you geemmen out a meal dat would make you hair curl, yessah, dat Ah would,” he declared, with an expansive smile.
“Yes, and if we only had some ham, we could make some nice ham sandwiches if we had some bread,” said Tom, sarcastically.
“Yessah, dat we could,” agreed Bimbo, utterly missing the sarcasm, to Tom’s great disgust. “Specs we’ll have to tote some outn de old ship when de storm done goes down.”
“Yes, I don’t think it will take me long to get sick of clams as a steady diet,” agreed Phil. “But we’re lucky to have a dry place like this. Br-r-r! I never knew it could be so cold in this part of the world.”
“Wait until the sun comes out, and you’ll wonder how you could ever have felt cold,” Benton assured him. “This isn’t half bad, though,” he continued. “We’ll make this place our headquarters, and sleep here at night. We can easily block the entrance and make it safe against any intruders.”
“I don’t imagine there’s anybody on this island to bother us, is there?” inquired Steve, in some surprise.
“That’s an open question,” said Benton. “These islands are often visited by savage natives, and we can’t afford to take any chances. In fact, somewhere in his papers the old Spaniard mentions some such visit, if you’ll remember.”
Steve nodded, and they all agreed to use every precaution against surprise. By this time their clothes were beginning to dry out, and they felt very sleepy and comfortable. The smoke from the fire drifted up to the roof and disappeared through an opening there, leaving the air below comparatively clear. When their clothes were quite dry, they rolled a couple of big rocks across the entrance to the cave, and then, scooping out hollows in the soft dry sand, they lay down and were soon fast asleep.
Phil was awakened by a shaft of brilliant sunlight that pierced down through the opening in the roof and glided over the sandy floor until it reached his eyes. He leaped to his feet, and the others, awakened by his action, sat up, yawning and rubbing their eyes.
“Hooray!” shouted Tom. “The sun’s shining again, so the storm must be over.”
“How did you ever guess it?” grinned Phil, and made for the entrance, followed by the others.
They stepped into a different world from the one they had left the previous evening. Brilliant sunlight trickled down through the thick foliage, rousing joy in the breasts of countless birds, who flitted about among the branches like living rainbows, so gaudy was their plumage. The boys rushed down to the beach, and gazed anxiously for their vessel. Had it been destroyed during the night they would have been in a sorry plight indeed, but on the contrary it had survived the pounding of the waves, which had only succeeded in forcing it closer to the beach. The tide was also low, and had the little vessel not been canted at such an angle, they might have imagined that it was still afloat. The surf still roared on the outer reef, but the wind had disappeared, and the water about the Fleeting had scarcely a ripple upon it.
“Things might be a lot worse,” declared Benton. “One of us will have to swim out to the wreck, and either get one of the boats, or make a raft, if they’ve all been smashed.”
“It doesn’t look like much of a swim,” said Dick. “I could make it in fifteen minutes.”
“The swim doesn’t amount to much,” agreed Benton. “Don’t forget, though, that these waters are full of sharks, and it’s dangerous to venture more than a few feet from the beach. I suggest that we all draw lots to see who goes.”
“I’ll take a chance,” declared Phil, and before they could stop him he had thrown off his coat and shoes and was in the water. He used a fast crawl stroke that took him through the water at surprising speed, but none the less his friends on shore watched his progress anxiously, and heaved sighs of relief when they saw him seize a trailing rope and haul himself up on deck.
Once there, he found everything in a terrible state of devastation. The deck was strewn with wreckage. The after deck house had been swept away entirely, while the forward one was badly damaged. But by great good fortune a large quantity of food that was stored here, where the galley had also been, was almost undamaged. Phil caught up a handful of sea biscuits from a big tin, and munched them ravenously while he explored further.
All the boats but one had been swept away and even this one had two planks stove in near the bow. But Phil got hammer and saw out of the carpenter’s chest, and after two hours of hard work had the boat patched up so that it would float. The boat was a serviceable twenty foot dory, and Phil felt thankful that it had survived the general disaster.
After great exertion he contrived to get the boat into the water, and then proceeded to load it with provisions, together with a few tools from the chest. The improvised repair leaked slightly, but Phil soon had all that he cared to transport at one load, and set out for the beach. A cheer greeted him as the bow grated on the sand, and they all fell ravenously on the food that he had brought.
After their appetites had been satisfied, they all piled into the boat except Bimbo, who was detailed to carry the supplies to the cave. Once on board the Fleeting they set about salvaging everything that they could. They found the diving apparatus undamaged, and to their surprise and unbounded delight they discovered that the radio outfit had not been destroyed, although of course it was soaked and required much drying out before it would be serviceable again. Fortunately the batteries had been located in a rack quite high up on the wall, and the vessel had settled in such shallow water that the sea had not reached them.
They carried the diving apparatus and radio set on deck, and loaded it into the dory. This made a pretty heavy load for the damaged boat, and they were unable to carry anything else on that trip. But on succeeding journeys they took ashore food, clothing, and other much needed supplies, until by nightfall their cave was stocked with enough provisions to last them a month if necessary.
The possession of the radio set filled them with delight, for with it they knew that they could get in touch with civilization and summon help should they need it. They carried the outfit to the cave, where Bimbo had prepared a supper worthy of the appetites they brought to it. After supper they set themselves to drying out the induction coils, variometers, and other parts of the apparatus before the fire. When they reflected what a change for the better the last twenty four hours had wrought, they felt encouraged and hopeful of the future.
“To-morrow we’ll spend getting off the rest of the stores,” proposed Benton, “and then we can turn our attention to locating the treasure. We’ll caulk the dory and make it perfectly tight and then we’ll try to rig up the diving apparatus in it, although I’m afraid it will be rather small.”
“I’ve been thinking about that,” said Phil. “And I’m pretty sure that we’ll never be able to carry on diving operations from the dory. It seems to me we’d do better to build a big raft, and mount the apparatus on that. We could tow it out through the passage in the reef easily enough.”
“That sounds like a crackerjack idea to me,” said Dick, enthusiastically, and the others agreed with him. So it was decided to try out this plan as soon as they got all the supplies off the Fleeting that they would be likely to require.
The construction of the raft was a difficult operation, but at last they had it finished, and Phil and Benton embarked in the dory to go on a hunt for the wreck, while the others attended to mounting the windlass on the raft.
CHAPTER XIII
UNDER THE SEA
In the boat they had installed the radio apparatus necessary for locating submerged objects, together with a log to be used as a buoy attached to a long length of cord. The purpose of this was to mark the site of the wreck if they should be so fortunate as to locate it.
Benton, who was rowing the boat, was skeptical over Phil’s radio outfit, and did not hesitate to express his doubts.
“I know you’ve tried to explain the business to me, Phil,” he said, “but I’m blest if I understand it yet. How do you figure to locate that wreck with radio waves?”
“It’s not so complicated as it seems,” said Phil. “This set is equipped with unusually sensitive vacuum tubes, and with certain condenser arrangements, radio waves affected by metal deposits are received through the water. Now, in the receivers of this set I can hear the incoming radio waves, and the second that they vary in strength I know that we are near some large quantity of metal. That’s simple enough, isn’t it?”
“Well, yes, but this was a wooden ship, remember,” objected Benton.
“Yes, but if it’s the one we are after, there is plenty of metal aboard,” said Phil. “Yellow metal – gold, in other words, as well as anchors, windlass and other metals.”
“I only hope you’re right,” said the other, still a little doubtfully. “We must be pretty close to the location now, if the old Spaniard didn’t have his facts twisted.”
Phil was listening intently to the message conveyed by his earphones, at times adjusting his condensers to get the maximum strength. Still there was no perceptible change in the intensity of sound, and Phil’s face began to wear a worried look, while Benton grew more and more skeptical.
“The old fellow says in his papers that the ship had barely cleared the reef when it sank,” said Phil at last. “Perhaps it went further than he thought, Jack. Let’s try it out a little further.”
The other bent to his oars, and they zigzagged away from the reef, drawing out toward the open sea. Suddenly the sounds in the receivers became softer for a few seconds, but then resumed their former tone.
“Back water, Jack!” exclaimed Phil. “Something happened just then, as though we were skirting along the edge of something down there.”
With renewed energy Benton pushed the boat back over its path, and sure enough, in a few seconds the sounds faded. With his hands Phil motioned to turn to the right, but then the signals became loud again, so he hurriedly motioned to the left. This time he was evidently on the right track, for the sounds grew steadily fainter until he could hardly hear them, and then increased as they kept on rowing.
“Back water just a little way, Jack!” said Phil excitedly, and seized the buoy with its attached anchor. This time, as the signals faded out to almost nothing, he dropped the buoy anchor with a splash, and snatched the earphones from his head.
“We’ve located something, all right!” he exclaimed, as he switched off the battery. “It may not be the wreck we’re after, of course, but I’ll bet anything that it’s some wreck.”
“You row and let me listen,” said Benton, so Phil took the oars while the other put on the headphones. As Phil rowed toward the buoy, Benton heard the signals diminish just as they had before, and for the first time seemed really convinced that Phil’s radio was a practical proposition.
“Back we go for the diving apparatus, then,” he said eagerly. “It’s early yet, and if they’ve got it ready we can make a descent before dark.”
Phil was as anxious as he, and they both took a pair of oars and made a record trip back to the beach. When the others saw them coming at such a pace they surmised that their trip had been successful, and even before they landed were shouting questions at them.
Phil told them briefly what they had discovered, and they were all eagerness to go out with the raft. It was an ideal day for diving operations, with a calm sea and no sign of a cloud in the sky so, as the apparatus was all rigged on the raft, they started forthwith.
It was slow work towing the cumbrous raft, and seemed all the more slow on account of their impatience to arrive at the scene of operations. But after an hour’s backbreaking toil they located the buoy, and were soon anchored alongside it.
Phil would not hear of anybody going down ahead of him, so he donned the heavy suit, with helmet and lead weighted shoes. Then they tried out the windlass to make sure that it was working properly, and at Phil’s signal they lowered him over the side of the raft.
The water was not cold, and he hardly felt its chill as he was lowered into the translucent depths.
The diving suit that he was using was on the model of that which Benton had recommended when they were laying their plans for the cruise, but on a smaller scale and of lesser weight than the kind designed for greater depths.
As Phil descended steadily the pressure increased, and diminished somewhat the intensity of the lights that were attached to his suit. In a short time his feet were on the sandy bottom. Strange but beautiful plants grew on the ocean floor, while queer fish floated before the heavy glass windows of his helmet.
He had not progressed far when there loomed before him the hulk of an old ship, and Phil moved toward it with the grip of great excitement at his heart. So far his radio had not deceived him. Here was the sunken ship that it had indicated. But was it the right one? That only exploration could tell.
Phil had landed some distance in front of its bows, and they rose high above his head, precluding the possibility of boarding the wreck at that point. Phil moved slowly along the side, and found that the high bows swept sharply down toward the waist. It was easy to see that the ship was of an ancient type, and Phil’s heart beat faster as he noted this and the fact that the heavy timbers had partly rotted away, indicating a great length of time under water.
He reached the middle of the old vessel and here had little difficulty in clambering aboard. Once more a man stood on the old deck that centuries ago had been teeming with life and had known the hot suns of many seas. Now sunk in the still depths of the ocean and half buried in sand, it had an inexpressibly mournful appearance, and it seemed almost sacrilege to disturb that age-old quiet.
He must have yielded to the spell cast upon him much longer than he had thought, for he was recalled from them by a sudden feeling of oppression, and with a start he realized that his air was rapidly becoming close and unbreathable. He had only taken a limited supply of oxygen in his tank for this preliminary survey, which he figured would take him but a short time. Still he was not greatly worried, and he gave a sharp tug at the line by which he had been let down. There was no response. And then with a sinking of the heart he realized that the line must have been fouled on some part of the wreck.
There was no time to lose and he set about instantly to find where the cable was caught. It was not long before he discovered that it had been caught by the projecting stump of the bowsprit. This was high above his head, and already he was suffering from the first pangs of suffocation. He realized that unless he freed himself in a minute or two he would be too far gone to help himself and would perish miserably in the cold, green depths.
Summoning the last of his strength, he struggled up hand over hand toward the tangle that seemed so far away. By dint of sheer will power he reached it at last. Black spots were floating before his eyes and it seemed as though his laboring lungs must burst, but he finally succeeded, and as he gave a tug at the freed line consciousness left him.
When he came to, bright sunlight was in his eyes and delicious salt open air was entering his lungs. The anxious faces of his friends peered down at him, but when he opened his eyes they gave a cheer that startled the sea birds circling about overhead.
“Glory be!” exclaimed Benton, fervently. “We were just getting ready to dive for you as a last resort. What caught you?”
Phil briefly recounted what he had found, and the narrow escape he had experienced.
“But I’m all right now, and we’ve located the wreck,” he concluded. “I haven’t much doubt that it’s the one we’re looking for. But it’s so covered with sand that the only way we’ll ever be able to get at the inside is to blow it open.”
“Well, old man, dynamite is a fast worker,” said Benton. “I wish we had brought some with us on the raft, but I guess we’ve done enough for to-day, anyway. You must have had enough underwater experience for one day, Phil.”
“If we had the dynamite here, I’d go down again right now,” declared Phil. “Only this time I’d keep a closer watch on the line. I got so interested in the wreck that I forgot it for a time.”
They were all jubilant over the certainty that they had the wreck located, and pulled back to the beach in high spirits. Had it been a little earlier they would have gone out again, but the afternoon was waning, and besides the sky had become overcast and there were indications of a coming storm. So they reluctantly decided to postpone operations for the day, and repaired to the cave. The evening was spent in excited discussion of the day’s happenings and plans for the morrow, and they were up early the following morning to put them into execution.
What was their disappointment to find a heavy wind blowing with a rough sea breaking against the outer reef. Obviously there was nothing to be done but wait until the wind and sea subsided, and in the meantime they decided to explore the island.
