Kitabı oku: «The Ocean Wireless Boys on War Swept Seas», sayfa 2
CHAPTER IV
ICEBERGS AHEAD!
That night a dense fog fell. But the pace of the fleeing liner was not slackened by a fraction of a knot. Without running lights, and with darkened decks and cabins, she raced blindly onward through the smother, facing disaster if she struck an obstacle. The passengers, already nerve-racked for the most part, almost beyond endurance, named a committee which was sent to the captain to protest against the reckless risk he was taking in ploughing ahead at top speed through the blinding mist.
They returned with a report that the captain had refused to slacken speed. With reckless fatalism, it appeared, he was prepared to lose his ship in a disaster rather than run the chance of its capture by cruisers of the country with which his ruler was at war. A new feeling, one of indignation, began to spread through the big ship. Little knots gathered and angrily censured the captain’s action. Some even visited him in person, but while he was polite to all, he firmly refused to reduce speed or display lights.
This was the condition of affairs when Jack came on duty accompanied by Bill Raynor, who had agreed to share his lonely vigil, for, from being one of the most sought out places on the ship, the wireless room was now deserted by the passengers, for strict orders had been given against the sending or receiving of any wireless messages lest the watching cruisers should get definite information of the liner’s whereabouts and pounce upon her.
There was little for Jack to do under this “ukase” but to lean back restfully in his chair, with the receivers over his ears on the lookout for what might be coming through the air. He and Raynor chatted, discussing the wild flight of the “gold ship,” intermittently, as the hours passed. But suddenly Jack became alert. Out in the dark, fog-ridden night, two ships were talking through the air. They were, as he learned after a moment of listening, the Caledonian of the English Anchor Line and the Mersey, which also flew the British flag.
The young wireless man listened for a time and then “grounded” with a grave face.
“What’s up now?” asked Raynor, noticing this. “If it’s the cruisers, I don’t mind, for only the Germans and Austrians would be held as prisoners. I’d kind of like to be ‘captured,’ as a novelty.”
“This trouble’s worse than cruisers,” rejoined Jack, in sober tones.
“What is it then?”
“Icebergs,” said Jack, sententiously.
“Icebergs at this time of the year?” asked Bill, incredulously, for bergs are rare in August on the usual steamer lanes, though occasionally seen.
“That’s what,” rejoined Jack; “the Caledonian was telling the Mersey. She says they are sown thick to the northwest of us. You’ve got to remember that we’re a long way to the north of the usual steamer tracks now, so it’s not surprising that the ‘growlers’ are about.”
“No, but it’s mighty unpleasant,” said Raynor. “What are you going to do?”
“Tell the captain about it at once,” said Jack, decisively, rising and putting on his cap.
“I hope he puts on the brakes when he hears about it,” commented Bill. “I’m not particularly nervous, but going full speed ahead through the fog into a field of bergs doesn’t just exactly feel good.”
“I’m only glad that the passengers don’t know about it,” said Jack. “They’re scary enough now. If they knew about the bergs, I firmly believe some of them would have to be put in strait jackets.”
“Yes, about the only cool ones on board are the Americans and the English,” declared Bill. “I heard to-day that a party of American millionaires got together in the smoking room and laid plans to make an offer to buy the ship and run her across anyhow.”
“That sounds like the American spirit all right,” chuckled Jack. “What became of the idea?”
“The captain told them the ship was not for sale,” said Bill, “even if they offered to throw in the millions in the specie room.”
Jack found Captain Rollok and his officers in anxious consultation in the former’s cabin.
“Ha, so you haf the news, is it?” demanded the captain, as Jack entered.
“Yes, and not very good news, I’m sorry to say,” said Jack. “The Caledonian has just been telling the Mersey that there are icebergs ahead.”
The officers exchanged glances. They all looked at the captain. Evidently some orders were expected, with the greatest peril the sea holds lying ahead of the racing vessel.
One of them, – Second Officer Muller, who had the watch, – put his anxiety into words.
“Is it that you will change the course or reduce speed, Captain?” he inquired.
The big, bearded captain turned on him like a flash. He raised his massive fist and brought it down on the table with a crash that bade fair to split the wood.
“We keep on as we are going!” he exclaimed. “Rather than let this ship get into the hands of the English, I’ll send her to the bottom.”
“But the passengers!” exclaimed Jack; “surely – ”
“Herr Ready,” said the captain, “I am in command of this ship. The orders are full speed ahead.”
CHAPTER V
A CLOSE SHAVE
Bill Raynor received Jack’s news with a shrug.
“I’m not surprised, to tell you the truth,” he said. “I’ve met a good many Germans in the course of my sea-going years, and that’s usually their idea, – rather sink the ship than give it up.”
“But the fearful danger, Bill,” protested Jack. “At any moment there may come a crash and – ”
“We’ve got iceberg detectors,” said Bill, “and maybe they’ll sound the whistle and locate a big berg by the echo.”
“They won’t sound any whistle to-night,” declared Jack. “That skipper is determined not to give any cruiser the least inkling of his whereabouts. I’m going to take a run on the deck, the wireless bell will call me if something comes. Want to join me?”
“All right. But it’s not much of a night for a stroll outside.”
“Anything’s better than sitting in that cabin waiting for you-don’t-know-what to happen.”
“You’re getting nervous, Jack.”
“Not so much for my own sake as at the thought of all these thousands of tons of steel being raced through this fog at a twenty-four knot clip and icebergs ahead. It’s sheer madness.”
“Well, the captain’s word is law at sea, so it’s no use protesting. We must hope for the best.”
The upper decks were deserted except for the boys. On the lower deck the passengers huddled in the darkness behind canvas screens erected to prevent any chance ray of light from filtering out. It was an uncanny feeling this, of speeding through an impenetrable pall of blackness with the thought of the iceberg warning ever and anon recurring to both lads, though they tried to talk of indifferent subjects.
The hours wore on and the fog did not lighten. Chilled to the bone, although it was August, Jack and Bill had about decided to turn in when there came a sudden sharp cry from the lookout forward. Involuntarily, Bill clutched Jack’s arm. The strain had affected them both more than they cared to admit.
Suddenly, dead ahead of them, as it seemed, there reared, seen white through the mist, a monstrous spectral form. It towered above the steamer’s masts and appeared to their alarmed imaginations to hang like an impending cliff above the ship.
From the bridge came quick shouts. Orders were given and harshly echoed. Somewhere down on the passenger decks, a woman screamed. Then came cries of consternation. The next moment there was a slight shock and a long, shuddering grind passed along the vessel’s side. The mountainous ice mass appeared to sheer off, but in reality the ship was swinging clear of it. By a miracle she had escaped with a mere graze of her side. At diminished speed, she continued on her course.
“Phew, what a narrow escape!” exclaimed Jack, as the fog shut in about the monster berg they had sheered.
“I thought we were goners, sure,” declared Bill, soberly. “A little of that sort of thing goes a long way. I – Hark!”
From the lower decks there now came the confused noise of a frightened crowd. Now and then, above, could be heard the shrieks of an hysterical woman. Sharp, authoritative voices belonging, as the boys guessed, to the officers, who were trying to quiet the panic-stricken throngs, occasionally sounded above the babel.
“They’re coming this way!” cried Jack suddenly, as a rush of feet could be heard making for the ascents to the boat deck, where the wireless coop was situated. “Bill, we’ll be in the middle of a first-class panic in a minute.”
“Yes, if that crowd gets up here among the boats, there’s going to be the dickens popping,” agreed Bill. “What will we do?”
“Run into the wireless room. In the drawer of the desk by the safe there are two revolvers. One’s mine and the other belongs to Poffer. Get them on the jump.”
It did not take Bill long to carry out his errand, but in even the short time that he had been absent, the forefront of the terrified crowd from below was almost at the head of the companionway leading from the promenade to the boat deck. Jack had stationed himself at the head of it.
“Keep cool, everybody,” he was shouting; “there is no danger.”
“The Titanic!” shrieked somebody. “We’ve hit an iceberg. We’ll sink like her.”
“The boats!” shouted a man. “We’ll lower ’em ourselves. We’re sinking!”
In the gloom Jack could see the man’s face, round and white, with a big yellow mustache.
The fellow shoved two women, wedged in the throng, aside, and addressed himself to Jack, who stood at the head of the companionway.
“Let me pass, you!” he bellowed, seemingly mad with fear. “I want a place in the first boat. I – ”
Jack felt Bill slip a revolver into his pocket. But he did not remove the weapon, the time had not yet come for its use.
“Stop that noise,” he told the yellow-mustached man bluntly. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he went on, “there’s no danger. We merely grazed the berg. Thank heaven the ship was swung in time to save her.”
“Don’t believe him,” shrieked the terrified man. “Stand to one side there. The boats!”
He made a rush for Jack and struck heavily at the young wireless operator. But before his blow landed, Jack had crouched and the next instant his fist shot out like a piston rod. The fellow staggered back, but could not fall because of the pressure of humanity behind him.
It is difficult to say what might have happened had there not been cooler heads in the crowd. Reassured by Jack’s cool manner, these began quieting the more timid ones. Just then, too, Captain Rollok and some of his officers appeared. All carried drawn revolvers, for a disorganized rush on the boats would have meant that scores of women would have been trampled and many lives lost in the confusion.
The captain’s firm, stern tones completed the work Jack and Bill had begun. He assured the passengers that an examination had been made and that no damage had been done. He also promised thereafter to run at a more moderate speed. Gradually, the excited crowd calmed down, and some sought their cabins. The greater part, however, elected to remain on deck throughout the night.
The next morning the fog had somewhat cleared and the break-neck speed of the ship was resumed. Jack was just resigning the key to young Poffer when the doorway was darkened by a bulky figure. It was that of a big, yellow-mustached man, whom Jack recognized instantly as the man who had led the panic of the night before, and whom he had been forced to deal with summarily.
He furiously glared at Jack, and the boy noticed that under his left eye was a dark bruise, a memento of the previous night.
“What did you mean by striking me last night?” he began angrily. “I demand your name. I will have you discharged.”
“My name is Ready,” answered Jack calmly, “and as far as having me discharged is concerned, I’m afraid that will be impossible. You see I’m here in what you might call an extra-official capacity.”
“Bah! don’t be impudent with me, boy. I am Herr Professor.”
“Oh, a barber,” smiled Jack, amiably.
The yellow-mustached man fairly growled. His light blue eyes snapped viciously.
“I am Herr – ”
“Oh, yes, I see you’re here,” responded Jack calmly. “You seem to be in rather a bad temper, too.”
“Boy, I will see that you are punished for this. I am a gentleman.”
“Really, it would be as hard to tell it on you this morning as it was last night,” responded Jack, in quite unruffled tones.
“Be very careful, young man. I have already told you I am Herr Professor.”
“Oh, don’t hang out the barber pole again,” begged Jack.
The other shot a glance full of venom at the perfectly cool youth before him. Then, apparently realizing that there was nothing to be gained from indulging in tirades, he turned abruptly on his heel and strode to the door. On the threshold he paused.
“I am going to report your conduct to the captain at once,” he said. “You will find out before long what such gross impertinence to a passenger means.”
“I shouldn’t advise you to tell him about your behavior last night, though,” observed Jack.
“Why not?”
“Because from what I’ve observed of him, he is a rather hot-tempered man and he might feel inclined to throw you out of his cabin – and it’s quite a drop from there to the promenade deck.”
“You will hear more of this,” snarled the infuriated man; but at Jack’s parting shot he made off, looking very uncomfortable.
Poffer regarded Jack with a look in which admiration and awe were oddly blended.
“I dink you haf for yourself made idt troubles,” he remarked.
“Trouble! In what way?” demanded Jack. “The fellow is an arrant coward. He – ”
“Ah yah, dot is so, but den he is Herr – ”
“Gracious, have you got hair on your brain, too?”
“Yah,” was the innocent response. “He is a big Professor at a Cherman War College. He is a great man in Germany, der Herr Professor Radwig.”
“Well, Mr. Earwig, or whatever his name is, may be a great man as you say, Hans, my boy, but he is also a great coward. As for his threat to make trouble with the captain, that does not bother me in the least. To begin with, I’m only a volunteer, as it were, and in the second place, I’ll bet you a cookie or one of those big red apples you’re so fond of, that Mr. Earwig will avoid discussing the events of last night as much as he can. I’ve heard the last of him.”
But in this Jack was wrong. In days that lay ahead of the boys, they were to find that Herr Professor Radwig was ordained to play no unimportant part in their lives.
CHAPTER VI
SMOKE ON THE HORIZON
Late that afternoon Jack, who had just come on deck, was in time to notice an unusual thrill of excitement among the already overwrought passengers. On the northern horizon was a smudge of smoke, and a dark hull bearing down on them. Those who had glasses had already announced the other craft to be a warship, although, of what nation, it was as yet impossible to say.
Jack hurried to the wireless room. Young Poffer declared that he had received no wireless, nor intercepted any message which might have any bearing on the identity of the strange ship. On the bridge, the ship’s officers were in excited consultation. The warship was drawing closer every moment. She was black and squat, with two fat funnels from which volumes of dark smoke rolled. At her bow was a smother of white foam showing the speed at which she was being pushed.
“Ach, now comes it!” exclaimed Poffer the next instant. He wrote rapidly and then handed the message to Jack. The wireless boy read:
“Heave to at once.
“Dutton, commanding His Majesty’s ship Berwick.”
“I’ll take it forward right away!” exclaimed Jack. “You listen with all your ears for any more messages, Hans.”
“You bet you my life I will undt den some,” Hans promised. “Vot you dink, dey shood us up, Jack?”
“I don’t know. I suppose if we don’t heave to, they will,” said the wireless boy as he hurried off.
“Chust as I thought,” declared Captain Rollok, after he had read the message.
“Shall I tell Hans to send back word we’ll stop?” asked Jack.
“Stop! I vouldn’t stop for der whole British navy,” declared Captain Rollok vehemently.
He stepped to the engine room telegraph and set it violently over to “Full speed ahead.” Then he picked up the engine-room telephone and gave orders to pile on every ounce of steam possible. The great ship quivered and then sprang forward like a grayhound from a leash. Clouds of black smoke rose from her funnels, deluging the decks with ashes as force draught was applied to the furnaces.
Jack hastened back to the wireless room. He found Poffer, pop-eyed and frightened looking.
“There’s another cruiser coming up on the other side!” he exclaimed. “I just heard her talking to the Berwick.”
“That’s nice,” commented Jack, as Bill Raynor and de Garros appeared in the doorway.
“Hullo, Bill,” he continued. “You’ll have a chance to be under fire now.”
“What do you mean?” demanded young Raynor.
“Surely it is that the captain will stop?” asked the French aviator.
“Stop nothing,” rejoined Jack. “He doesn’t appear to care what he risks, so long as he saves his ship.”
“I thought I felt her speeding up,” said Bill. “So he’s going to cut and run for it?”
“That’s the size of it,” responded Jack, while the Frenchman shrugged his shoulders.
“They are not understandable, these Germans,” he commented.
“Here comes it anudder message,” struck in Hans, holding up his hand to enjoin silence.
They all looked over his shoulder as he wrote rapidly.
“Your last warning. Heave to or take the consequences.”
It was signed as before by the commander of the Berwick.
“My friends, this captain had better heed that warning,” said de Garros. “Englishmen are not in zee habit of what zee call ‘bluffing.’”
But when Jack came back from the bridge, whither he had sped at once with the message, it was to report the captain as obdurate as ever. His only comment had been to call for more speed.
“I guess he thinks we can show that cruiser a clean pair of heels,” said Raynor.
“That looks to be the size of it,” agreed Jack, “but he is taking desperate chances. Let’s go outside and see the fun.”
The cruiser was coming toward them on an oblique line now. From her stern flowed the red cross of St. George on a white field, the naval flag of England. They watched her narrowly for some minutes and then Jack exclaimed:
“Jove! I believe that with luck we can outrun her. The Kronprinzessin is the fastest ship of this line, and if her boilers don’t blow up we may be able to beat that cruiser out.”
“I hope so,” declared Raynor, fervently. “I’m not exactly a coward but I must say the idea of being made a target without having the chance to hit back is not exactly pleasant.”
“As I shall be in zee thick fighting not before very long, I might as well receive my baptism of fire now as any other time,” said the Frenchman. “I expect to be placed in charge of zee aviation corps, and I am told zee Germans have some very good aeroplane guns.”
“Look,” cried Bill, suddenly, “they are going to – ”
A white mushroom of smoke broke from the forward turret of the cruiser, followed by a screeching above their heads. Then came an ear-splitting report.
“Great guns! Where is this going to end?” gasped Bill, involuntarily crouching.
CHAPTER VII
A SHOT AT THE RUDDER
“Ach Himmel!” groaned Hans Poffer. “Suppose dey hit us vee – ”
He got no further. There was another burst of smoke, a quick, lightning-like flash and the same screech of a projectile. But this time, accompanying the sound of the report, was a sound of tearing metal and the ship shook as if she had struck on the rocks.
“The after funnel,” cried Jack, pointing to a jagged hole in the smoke stack.
“The next one may come closer,” choked out Bill rather shakily.
On the lower decks there was the wildest confusion. Women were fainting and the stewards and petty officers had all they could do to handle the frightened throngs. The striking of the funnel was the occasion for an angry and badly scared deputation to wait upon the captain and demand that he stop the ship at once.
But the deputation did not reach the bridge. They were met at the foot of the stairway leading to it by a polite but firm officer who informed them that under no circumstances would the captain tolerate any interference with his method of running the ship.
A third shot, which went wide, closely followed the one that had struck the after funnel. It flew high above them and caused Jack to observe:
“I don’t believe they mean to hit the hull, but only to scare the captain into heaving the boat to.”
“Looks that way,” agreed Bill, “and as for the scare part of it, I guess they’ve succeeded, so far as everybody is concerned but Captain Rollok and his officers.”
“We are gaining on zee cruiser without a doubt,” asserted de Garros, whose eyes had been fixed on the pursuing sea fighter for some minutes.
“Yes, but look, there comes another,” cried Jack, suddenly, pointing astern. “That must be the one Poffer heard signaling to the Berwick.”
“We’re in for it now,” said Bill. “I wish that pig-headed captain would heave to and let them take the gold and the Germans, if that’s all they are after.”
“Hullo!” exclaimed Jack, suddenly, as they all stood waiting nervously to see the next flash and puff from the cruiser’s turret. “I can see a gleam of hope for us. See what’s ahead!”
Ahead of them the sea appeared to be giving off clouds of steam as if it was boiling. As yet this vapor had not risen high, but it was rapidly making a curtain above the sunny waters.
“Fog!” cried Bill, delightedly.
“It cannot be too thick for me,” said de Garros.
“Perhaps Captain Rollok foresaw this and that was why he refused to halt,” said Jack. “Certainly, if we can gain that mist bank before we get badly injured, we’ll be all right.”
It was now a race for the thickening fog curtains. The cruisers appeared to realize that if the Kronprinzessin could gain the shelter of the mist, there would be but small chance of their capturing her. Increased smoke tumbling from their funnels showed that they were under forced draught. But as their speed increased so did that of the “gold ship.”
The gun boomed again on the Berwick, the foremost of the pursuers. The projectile struck the stern of the liner and knocked the elaborate gilt work wreathing, her name and port, into smithereens.
“Aiming at the rudder,” commented Jack. “That’s a good idea from their point of view.”
“But a mighty bad one from ours if they succeed in hitting it,” said Raynor, with a rather sickly laugh.
Two more shots, one of them from the second cruiser, flew above the fugitive liner and then the mist began to settle round her swiftly-driven hull in soft, cottony wreaths. In five minutes more the fog had shut in all about her.
Then ensued a game of marine blind-man’s buff. Captain Rollok, having steamed at full speed some miles through the fog, – and this time there were no protests from passengers, – altered his course and deliberately steamed in circles.
“Hark!” exclaimed Jack, during one of these manœuvers. “What was that?”
Out in the fog somewhere they could hear a sound like the soft beating of a huge heart. It was the throbbing of another vessel’s engines. To the fear of the chase now was added the peril of collision, for in the fog, dense as it was, the captain would not permit the siren to be sounded.
It was almost impossible to tell from which direction the sound was proceeding. It seemed to be everywhere. Was it another peaceful vessel like themselves, or a man-of-war? Much depended on the answer to this question.
All at once, with startling distinctness, a huge black bulk loomed up alongside them. Through the fog they caught a sudden glimpse of crowded decks and great guns projecting from grim-looking turrets. It was one of the British cruisers. By grim irony, the fog had delivered them into the hands of their pursuers.
“Great Scott, it’s all off now!” cried Bill, as they simultaneously sensed the identity of the other craft.
