Kitabı oku: «Hawaiian Sea Hunt Mystery», sayfa 6

CHAPTER XV
Men Missing

Biff stood on the beach calling out his friend’s name again and again. His voice shook with effort, trying to drown out the noises of surf and sea.

The wind was dying down slightly, but the surf was still too rough and dangerous for Biff to try to reach the boat, which stood one hundred feet off shore.

Biff’s eyes searched the beach, hoping to spot Li swimming ashore. No such welcome sight met his eyes.

To his left, about a quarter of a mile away, Biff could see a formation of lava rock jutting out into the sea. He thought his friend Li might have gotten to shore on the other side of the lava promontory.

Biff ran down the beach. His pounding heart sank when he reached the ugly, grayish-black rock, stretching out into the sea. Its side was smooth, rising upward some thirty feet. There was no place Biff could spot where he could gain a foothold to climb to its top.

Around the base of the lava cliff, the water dashed and swirled, making it impossible for Biff to swim around to the other side.

Biff went back to the spot on the beach directly opposite the Easy Action. He sank down on the wet sand, filled with despair. He felt certain now that his good friend Li must be lost in the ocean.

Night settled over a lonely, saddened Biff. The rain had stopped. The wind was dying down. The surf was losing some of its angry roar. Sleep, a sleep Biff felt he could never attain, finally came to the tired, worried boy. With it came release for his troubled mind.

By morning, the wind was gone. The sea was smooth, and the sky was blue over Hawaii once again.

Biff saw the yawl rocking gently at its anchor. Its sails torn, tattered, drooped from the masts like the banners of a defeated army. There was no sign of Li.

There was only one thing to do. He must search the nearby coast for his lost friend.

Biff swam out to the yawl. A quick inspection showed the Easy Action to be a stout ship. She had taken on little water. Her seams had held. Her masts had stood the strain. Biff took out the emergency suit of sail and rigged them to the halyards. He started the engine, let it idle as he raised the anchor, then put out to sea.

He ran on engine past the lava promontory, bringing the boat as close into shore as he felt safe. No sign of Li.

Biff put back out to sea, raised the jibsail and cruised along the coast, his eyes constantly scanning the shoreline. He didn’t know how far down the Big Island he sailed, but he dreaded turning about and giving up. Finally, he felt he had to. He had to get back to where he had left his father and Mr. Mahenili and tell them the tragic news.

Biff came about. Now he sailed in the opposite direction. He rounded the lava promontory, lashed the tiller, and went forward to raise the mainsail.

Returning to the cockpit, Biff cast a final look at the spot on the black beach where he had spent the night. His heart leaped. There was someone on the beach, jumping up and down, waving madly. Li!

With a shout of happiness, Biff turned the yawl inshore. Li had already dashed into the water, and was swimming toward the approaching boat.

Biff came about quickly, heading the yawl into the wind. Li reached its side, and Biff pulled him aboard. He threw his arms around Li’s wet body and hugged him in sheer happiness. Then he stepped back and sized Li up carefully. Except for some scratches, and a deep gash on one leg, Li looked fine.

“I thought you were a goner,” Biff said.

“Nope, old Davy Jones hasn’t got me in his locker yet.”

“What happened? Where’ve you been?”

Li grinned. “I fell overboard. I’d just let go the anchor when my foot got caught and I went over. A current caught me and carried me away from the boat. The anchor must have dragged for quite a distance before it caught, because when I finally made shore, the yawl wasn’t in sight.”

“Where’d you land? The other side of that lava cliff?”

“Yep. And there was no way to get over it.”

“I know that. I walked down the beach to the cliff, but it can’t be climbed from this side, either.”

Both boys were silent for a minute, thinking about their narrow escape.

“So what did you do, Li?”

“I started up the cliff, the side of it. I had to find some way of getting over it, hoping to find you safe on the other side.”

“Yes, go on.”

“Well, it was growing dark. I slipped several times, cut myself, too.”

“I see you did. We better put some antiseptic on that cut.”

“I’ve already cleaned it out with salt water. Stung like the dickens.”

“We’ll still do some more doctoring. Now get on with your story,” Biff ordered.

“Well, I knew I wouldn’t make it at night, so I found a protected spot and went to sleep. This morning, I made my way farther up the cliff, found a place where I could cross, and came over to this side.”

“And I was gone.”

“Yes, Biff. When I finally made it here, I could have died. No Biff. No boat.”

“I was looking for you. I must have sailed two or three miles down the coast, trying to spot you.”

“That’s what I finally figured out, Biff. I thought that since the boat was gone and there was no wreckage on the beach, old E.A. hadn’t smashed up. So, putting my two heads together, I also figured you must be safe and had gone hunting for me. So I just sat and waited. Boy, when you rounded that promontory, was I ever glad!”

“Me too, when I saw you jumping around like a crazy Indian!”

The boys smiled at each other. Their smiles turned to laughter, and for a few moments they let themselves go in a wild laughing bout.

“I should have known,” Biff said, simmering down at last. “I should have known that Likake Mahenili, champion swimmer of the Islands, could take care of himself.”

“It was close, though, Biff.”

“I’ll say it was.”

Biff put the Easy Action on a course for the spot where the dinghy had been beached. They sailed through the morning and well into the afternoon before they spotted their landmarks. Biff anchored the yawl. Both had felt sure their parents would be waiting for them on the beach. There was no sign of either man.

“What do we do now, Biff?”

Biff shrugged his shoulders helplessly.

“I don’t know, Li. All we can do is wait. It’ll be dark, soon. We can’t search for them at night.”

“Biff, you don’t think that maybe Perez Soto – ” Li couldn’t finish his sentence.

Biff knew the worried thoughts which must be running through his friend’s mind. The same thoughts were racing through his own. Had his father and Mr. Mahenili been trapped by the enemy?

CHAPTER XVI
Held Prisoner

High up the side of Mauna Loa volcano, Tom Brewster and Hank Mahenili turned their binoculars on the sea 10,000 feet below them and several miles away.

The men scanned the coastline, inch by inch, searching for any activity on the wide horizon.

“Can’t spot the Easy Action, Hank. Can you?” Tom Brewster asked.

“No. But look over there. To your right. Line up on that tall palm tree, couple hundred feet down.”

Tom Brewster followed his friend’s directions. He adjusted his glasses. As the focus became sharp, he spotted a black object, apparently a boat, anchored off shore.

“Couldn’t that be a black power boat? Looks like it to me, Tom,” Hank said.

Brewster studied the boat for a minute before replying. “I think it is. I’m sure it is. That must be Perez Soto’s boat.”

Mahenili had turned his glasses in the direction where the Easy Action should be riding at anchor.

“I’m getting worried about the boys, Tom.”

“Oh, they’ll be all right. They’ll be coming into sight any moment now. Anything in particular worrying you? We’ve spotted Perez Soto’s boat. They haven’t had any trouble with him.”

It was late afternoon. Hank Mahenili had turned his glasses to the south, looking out over Ka Lae.

“See that cloud formation to the south?” he said. “It’s building up fast. It could be a Kona wind coming up.”

“Maybe we’d better start down, then,” Mr. Brewster suggested.

The two men had descended only halfway down the side of the volcano when the Kona storm struck. They had to halt. It was too dangerous to make the steep descent in the raging storm, the same storm that had hit the Easy Action two hours earlier.

The high wind, ripping and roaring, whining against the side of the mountain, was followed by a sheet of rain. Tom Brewster and Hank Mahenili had to scramble for any cover they could find. They located a small but deep depression, more of a pocket than a cave, and dived into it. Water trickled in, wetting them, but it was better than being in the open with the rain and wind lashing at them.

Shortly after nightfall, the storm lessened. There was no question of trying to continue their descent.

“Have to make the best of it for the night,” Mr. Brewster said.

“What about the boys?” Hank asked.

“Nothing we can do, Hank. Don’t think I’m not worried. I am. But I do trust Biff. He’s been up against many a tough situation and has always come through. He will this time, too. And so will Li.” Tom hoped his strong tone of confidence would be imparted to his friend. He knew that the Mahenilis weren’t accustomed to running into the dangerous situations that had been a part of his own life for many years, and recently, had become almost a pattern for Biff, too.

Henry Mahenili was made of stout stuff, too. He also knew that, when faced with a situation where there was no immediate out, the best thing to do was to face up to it and hope for the best.

Tom Brewster changed the subject.

“I’ve an idea, Hank. I base it on seeing that black power boat anchored off shore.”

“What is it, Tom?”

“I think that Perez Soto and whoever is working with him must be ashore. I think they must have Dr. Weber with them. It would be too easy to spot someone being held captive in as confined a space as a boat.”

“I’m with you in that thinking, Tom.”

“Tell me this, then. Don’t you think they must have a hideout somewhere nearby? They wouldn’t want to be too far from their anchorage. They’d want to be able to get to their boat quickly if any definite news came about the location of Huntington’s sunken sloop.”

“There are all sorts of places around here, Tom. Lean-tos, shacks. Finding one certain hideout won’t be simple. There’s also a lot of the Mauna Loa, too. Don’t expect too much too soon.”

“I know. But I won’t rest until I’ve made every effort to find Dr. Weber.”

“Well, Tom, if we don’t rest now, we won’t have the strength to continue our search. Let’s try to get some sleep.”

“Good idea.”

They spent a restless night in their cramped, wet quarters. Daylight, with a bright sun already sending up steam vapors as it dried the wet mountain side, was a welcome relief.

The first thing both men did was to scan the shore line again with their binoculars, searching for the Easy Action. Failure to spot her increased the worry in both men’s minds. Neither spoke of the matter. Each knew how greatly concerned the other was. But there was no point in dumping one worry upon another.

“Come on, Hank. Let’s get back on down. The boys may be there when we arrive.”

They started on down the side of Mauna Loa. At an elevation of about one thousand feet, almost directly opposite the anchored black power boat, they halted for a breather. They were only a mile or so from the shore. Their intention was to cut to their left, now that the going was easier at the lower altitude. The descent was no longer so precipitate.

They headed almost due south now. They stayed at the same elevation, stopping now and again to sweep the coast line with their glasses. At one halt, Tom Brewster placed a retaining hand on Mahenili just as he started off.

“Hold it a moment, Hank,” Tom said in a low voice. “Hear anything?”

Hank Mahenili listened. In a few moments, he nodded his head.

“Sound like voices to you?”

“Yes. And angry ones.”

“Come along then, let’s find out.”

The voices seemed to be coming from a point below them, not too far below, and just a bit to their right.

They proceeded most cautiously in the direction of the voices, careful not to start any pebbles or small stones rolling downward. Easing themselves down, the two men came to a ledge. It projected out like the roof of a shed or porch. Tom Brewster got down on his stomach. He wormed his way forward. The voices were coming, it appeared, from directly beneath him.

Inching ahead, Tom Brewster came to the edge of the ledge. Carefully, he craned his head forward and looked down. He saw the tops of two men’s heads. A third man was stretched out on a makeshift bed of brush, covered with a worn cloth.

The third man was Dr. Weber. The doctor’s cheeks were sunken. His color was bad. He looked completely ill and worn out. Towering over the doctor was Perez Soto. Thomas Brewster couldn’t see the other man’s face, but he knew it must have anger written on it from the tone of his voice.

Dr. Weber groaned as he turned on his side. Brewster could see that his hands were bound behind his back. His ankles were also lashed together.

“You old fool!” Perez Soto said. “Why should it make any difference to you whether I get the cesium or Brewster gets it? You’re a scientist. Bah! A scientist should put his science before all else.”

Brewster heard the doctor’s reply in a voice barely audible: “There are certain things even a scientist places a greater value on – friendship, loyalty, humanity.”

Perez Soto leaned over the old man, his arm raised as if to strike him. Brewster had all he could do to keep himself from leaping off the ledge onto Perez Soto’s back. But Soto’s henchman stood, gun in hand, by the old man’s side.

“I give you this day, and no more, my fine doctor,” Perez Soto said. “By nightfall, if you do not reveal to me the location of the cesium strike, the world will lose one of its most eminent scientists!”

CHAPTER XVII
A Dangerous Dive

Biff and Li were up with the first rays of daylight. After a hurried breakfast, they prepared to go ashore.

“Do you think it’s safe to leave the boat unguarded, Biff?” Li wanted to know.

“No, I don’t. I know darn well that Perez Soto would like nothing better than to find the Easy Action with no one aboard and scuttle her.”

“What do we do then?”

“We take that chance,” Biff said grimly. “We’ve got to. Finding our fathers is more important than all the yawls and all the cesium in the world.”

Li smiled in agreement. “We’re going to be awfully wet when we get ashore.”

The dinghy was still secreted behind beach brush. The yawl had no other.

“Couldn’t you kind of kick your way ashore, swimming on your back, Li?” Biff asked.

“Sure, Biff. Why?”

“Well, here’s what you try to do. Jump overboard. Turn on your back. I’ll hand you some dry shorts and sweat shirts. Hold them out of water over your head and see if you can make shore that way.”

“I’ll try, Biff. But I don’t know. Getting through the surf isn’t going to be easy. Probably get the clothes wet anyway.”

“We’ll try it. And if they do get wet, the sun will dry ’em fast.”

Li dived into the ocean. He plunged around like a porpoise for a few moments, enjoying and getting the feel of the water. Then he turned on his back and kicked to the side of the yawl. Biff handed down a bundle of clothing, and Li propelled himself away from the boat with a powerful thrust against its side.

Biff slung a pair of binoculars in a waterproof case around his neck and slipped into the water.

Li’s progress was slow. His leg thrusts were those of an excellent backstroke swimmer, but unable to use his arms, he couldn’t go very fast. Biff stayed alongside him.

“I’m going ahead when we reach the shore breakers,” Biff called to Li. “I’m taller than you. Maybe I can reach bottom, and take the clothes from you before a wave rolls over you.”

It was a good plan. But the sea has a way of upsetting good plans, and it did this time. Boys and clothes reached shore equally wet. They wrung out their shorts and sweat shirts as best they could, donned them, and headed up the southern slope of the Mauna Loa in the area called Kau.

They toiled upward, resting at regular intervals. It was hot, tiring work. Their wet clothes clung to their bodies. Perspiration from the effort kept their clothes damp. Even in the heat, Biff found himself shivering convulsively.

“I’ve got a clammy feeling from these clothes. Guess that’s why I’m shivering,” Biff said to his friend. He hoped it was the damp clothing, rather than fear for the safety of his father and Hanale Mahenili.

By noon, the boys had climbed nearly three thousand feet.

“Let’s take a break,” Biff called.

“By me, fine. That was a tough climb,” Li answered.

Biff stretched out. Li remained seated.

“Let me have the glasses. Biff.”

Biff handed them over, shielded his eyes from the sun, and tried to catch a catnap. He was just dozing off when he felt Li nudge him.

“Biff! Biff!” The excitement in Li’s voice brought Biff to a sitting position in a hurry.

“What is it, Li?”

“Over there, see? About halfway between Ka Lae and that point to the north – Kauna Point.”

“Yes. But how can I see anything without the glasses?”

Li unslung them from around his neck and handed them to Biff. “Now, look. Follow the direction of my arm. About half a mile, I’d guess, off shore. Almost exactly between Ka Lae and Kauna Point.”

“I’m following you, Li.”

“Move your glasses around in a tight area of a few hundred yards. See if you spot a dark object on the bottom of the ocean.”

The boys were looking almost straight down. From his many flights over water, Biff knew that from above, one could see through the water to depths of forty to fifty feet with ease. The water acted as a magnifying glass.

He moved the glasses in a tight circle. Then he spotted what had caused all Li’s excitement. Lying on the bottom of the ocean was a dark object. It was slender, about forty feet long, Biff judged.

“Do you think it could be, Biff? Think it could be a boat?”

Biff didn’t want to raise either his own or Li’s hopes too high.

“Couldn’t it be a coral formation, Li?” he asked.

“Gee, I don’t think so, Biff. There’d be more then one formation of coral around. It’s mighty rare to find just a sliver stuck out somewhere in the ocean.”

“Then it could be a boat! A boat on the bottom of the ocean.”

“Huntington’s boat?”

“Could be, Li. But let’s not get our hopes up too high.”

“Let’s go. Let’s get back to the Easy Action and cruise over there. We’ve got to find out.”

Before agreeing, Biff thought about his father and Hank Mahenili. Should the boys continue the search? After all, the same storm that had forced him and Li to spend the night ashore could well have caused the fathers to take shelter. Perhaps their parents even now were back at the beach opposite the anchorage, or even aboard the yawl. Biff made his decision.

“Okay, Li. Let’s go,” Biff said.

The boys reached the beach opposite the Easy Action’s anchorage in half the time it had taken them to make the ascent. Downhill, all the way.

“We’ll take the dinghy out,” Biff said. “Won’t do our parents any good if the yawl isn’t here.”

Their haste matched the excitement growing inside them about their find. Of course, both knew they could be in for a great disappointment. Biff pushed that depressing thought out of his mind.

Li upped anchor while Biff got the engine started, then went to the cockpit. Biff took the tiller and pointed the yawl’s bow directly out to sea. With a careful eye, he measured the distance from shore until he was sure he was about half a mile out. Then he put the helm of the Easy Action hard over to the starboard and cruised parallel to the shore.

“Think you’ve got that spot well marked in your mind, Li?”

“Sure have, Biff. Remember when we spotted it? There was a large, oval patch of whitish lava just to the left of where we were resting. I’m sure we can spot it from the sea.”

“Okay. You be the lookout. I’m going to keep this boat on as true a course as I can. I think we’re just about as far off shore now as we figured that sunken boat was. What do you think?”

“Looks right to me. What do you want me to do?”

“You take the glasses. Keep them turned on the Mauna Loa slope. Soon as you pick up that oval lava patch, sing out.”

“Aye, aye, captain.”

Li went forward with the binoculars. He kept them trained shoreward, aiming them about two thousand feet up the slope.

The distance to the spot the boys had in mind was greater than they had thought it to be. They covered a lot of water. Biff checked his watch. He hoped they could spot the sunken hulk before the light went.

“Land ho!” Li sang out and came racing back over the deck to the cockpit. “Oval patch coming into sight, captain. Here, take the glasses and see for yourself.”

Biff turned the tiller over to Li and took a look. That was the patch, all right. It was off their starboard bow, still a good two miles ahead. Biff revved up the engine, and the Easy Action’s auxiliary pushed the yawl along at a good eight knots. In twenty minutes – Biff timed the run, figuring the miles the yawl would cover at full speed – they were dead opposite the lava patch. Biff cut the motor.

“It ought to be somewhere about here,” Biff said. “You shin up the mainmast. I’m going to put the yawl in a tight circle, starting right here, then I’ll increase the circle every time we make one full turn.”

While Li was climbing the mast to a height of about fifteen feet, Biff ducked down into the cabin for a marking buoy. This he tossed overside. Its metal weight plunged to the bottom and held. The red-and-white buoy would be the hub of the circle he would put the yawl into. Biff started the engine again.

“All set, Li.”

“Start the merry-go-round,” Li called back.

The Easy Action made a tight circle. Biff edged the tiller away from him, and the second circle was of a greater circumference. Biff eased off on the tiller again. The yawl described a larger circle. If the sunken hulk was in that area, there shouldn’t be any chance of missing it. The water was clear, the sea calm.

Round and round they went. The bobbing red-and-white marking buoy became a mere speck. Biff could barely make it out with his naked eye.

Half an hour passed; then another. The sun was slanting downward, not more than two hours from its nightly dip into the Pacific.

“Hold it, Biff! Hold it!” came the excited shout from Li.

Biff threw the engine into reverse. He leaped forward and let down the anchor. He turned and looked up at Li, who, shading his eyes, was peering intently into the water off the yawl’s portside.

“I’ve spotted it, Biff. I’m sure of it. If I haven’t, well – you come up and take a look.”

Li slid down the mast and Biff shinned up. He looked at the spot Li had pointed out. For a time, his eyes were unable to discover any difference as he squinted, looking down into the water. After several minutes, he did make out a formation differing from anything around it. It was a dark object. Biff could think only of a whale, or some other large sea animal, lying on the ocean’s floor.

“You’re right, Li. There’s something down there.” He slid down the mast. “But how are we going to find out just what it is?”

Li grinned. “That’s easy, Biff. You have on board your ship Easy Action, Captain Brewster, none other than the world’s record-holding free skin diver, Likake Mahenili.”

“You’re going to dive down there?” Biff said, awe in his voice.

“Sure. Why not?”

“Well, you’re not going to until we sound for the depth here. What’s the deepest dive you’ve ever made, Li?”

“Forty-five, maybe fifty feet if I stretch it a little,” Li replied.

Biff got out the sounding line. This was a thin, strong rope. It had a heavy sinker on the end. At intervals of one foot, it had a metal weight to mark off the depth. Biff tossed it overboard. The line seemed to run out endlessly. Biff was afraid the ocean’s depth here was going to turn out to be too great for Li to try a dive. Then he felt the thud of the heavy sinker touching bottom. He drew the rope tight.

“Here we go. Let’s both count the markers as we pull it up.”

Biff worked slowly, carefully. They couldn’t risk any mistakes in their count.

When the sinker broke the surface, Biff looked at Li. “How many markers did you count?”

“Forty-three. Does that check with your count?”

“On the nose, Li, on the nose. I make it forty-three too.”

“Good. I can make that easy. But, hey, how am I going to know if it’s the right boat? What was the name of Mr. Huntington’s sloop?”

“The Sea Islander, Li.”

“Okay. Can you work the boat over a bit? I’d like to be right over her when I make my dive.”

“All right, Li. Take up the anchor. Just enough to get it off the bottom. Then let go the second I call.”

Biff went back to the cockpit. He pushed the engine’s starting button. He had to go forward about ten feet and edge the yawl to the port about fifteen. He shoved the tiller away, putting the boat to the port, and went forward about twenty feet. Then he pulled the tiller to him, put the yawl in reverse, and came back.

“Let ’er go,” he called out. He felt the anchor grab. It must be almost alongside the sunken object.

Li came back to the cockpit, darted into the cabin, and came out with a small anchor. It was a spare for the dinghy.

“What do you want that thing for?” Biff demanded.

“A weight. I’m going down with it. It will pull me down a lot faster than I could swim. And forty-three feet is a lot of water.”

“I’ll say it is. You all ready?”

Li nodded his head. He had changed into brief, skin-tight swim trunks. He walked over to the starboard side of the yawl. He took some wooden matches and hurled them into the water.

“What’s that for?” Biff asked.

“I want to find out if there’s much flow here. If there’s any current. I have to judge my dive by the current.”

They watched the matches. They seemed to bob up and down in the same place. Li had tossed them about ten feet from the yawl. As they watched, they saw the distance between yawl and matches closing. It was closing, all right, but slowly.

“Know all I have to, Biff. Very slight current. Nothing to worry about; nothing I have to figure on particularly. Here I go.”

Before Biff could even call “good luck,” Li, the small anchor held in front of him, plunged into the water.

The wait for Li to surface began.