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The Project Gutenberg eBook of Bert Wilson, Wireless Operator, by J. W. Duffield.
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<pre>
Project Gutenberg's Bert Wilson, Wireless Operator, by J. W. Duffield
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
Title: Bert Wilson, Wireless Operator
Author: J. W. Duffield
Release Date: March 25, 2012 [EBook #39262]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BERT WILSON, WIRELESS OPERATOR ***
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Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
produced from images generously made available by The
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</pre>
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 388px;">
<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="388" height="600" alt="cover" title="cover" />
</div>
<hr class="chap" />
<h1>BERT WILSON,<br />
Wireless Operator</h1>
<p class="p4 noic">BY</p>
<p class="noi author">J. W. DUFFIELD</p>
<p class="works"><span class="smcap">Author of “Bert Wilson at the Wheel,”<br />
“Bert Wilson, Marathon Winner,”<br />
“Bert Wilson’s Fadeaway Ball”</span>
</p>
<hr class="chap" />
<p class="noic">Copyright, 1913, By</p>
<p class="noic">SULLY AND KLEINTEICH</p>
<p class="p2 noic"><i>All rights reserved.</i></p>
<p class="noic">Published and Printed, 1924, by<br />
Western Printing & Lithographing Company<br />
Racine, Wisconsin<br />
Printed in U. S. A.</p>
<hr class="chap" />
<h2>CONTENTS</h2>
<table border="0" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents">
<col style="width: 20%;" />
<col style="width: 70%;" />
<col style="width: 10%;" />
<tr>
<td class="tdrt">CHAPTER</td>
<td class="tdl"></td>
<td class="tdrt">PAGE</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdrt">I.</td>
<td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_I">Running Amuck</a></td>
<td class="tdrb">1</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdrt">II.</td>
<td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">An Unexpected Meeting</a></td>
<td class="tdrb">14</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdrt">III.</td>
<td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_III">A Startling Message</a></td>
<td class="tdrb">26</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdrt">IV.</td>
<td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">The Flaming Ship</a></td>
<td class="tdrb">38</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdrt">V.</td>
<td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_V">An Island Paradise</a></td>
<td class="tdrb">56</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdrt">VI.</td>
<td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">The “Gray Ghost”</a></td>
<td class="tdrb">70</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdrt">VII.</td>
<td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">A Swim for Life</a></td>
<td class="tdrb">79</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdrt">VIII.</td>
<td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">The Captured Shark</a></td>
<td class="tdrb">90</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdrt">IX.</td>
<td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">In the Heart of the Typhoon</a></td>
<td class="tdrb">99</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdrt">X.</td>
<td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_X">The Derelict</a></td>
<td class="tdrb">111</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdrt">XI.</td>
<td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">The Tiger at Bay</a></td>
<td class="tdrb">124</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdrt">XII.</td>
<td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">Among the Cannibals</a></td>
<td class="tdrb">141</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdrt">XIII.</td>
<td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">The Hunting Wolves</a></td>
<td class="tdrb">159</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdrt">XIV.</td>
<td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">The Land of Surprises</a></td>
<td class="tdrb">179</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdrt">XV.</td>
<td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XV">The Dragon’s Claws</a></td>
<td class="tdrb">195</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdrt">XVI.</td>
<td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">The Pirate Attack</a></td>
<td class="tdrb">211</td>
</tr>
</table>
<hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[1]</a></span></p>
<h1>BERT WILSON,
WIRELESS OPERATOR</h1>
<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I</a></h2>
<h3><span class="smcap">Running Amuck</span></h3>
<p class="cap">“Amuck! Amuck! He’s running amuck!
Quick! For your lives!”</p>
<p>The drowsy water front pulsed into sudden
life. There was a sound of running feet, of
hoarse yells, a shriek of pain and terror as a knife
bit into flesh, and a lithe, brown figure leaped
upon the steamer’s rail.</p>
<p>It was a frightful picture he presented, as he
stood there, holding to a stanchion with one hand,
while, in the other, he held a crooked dagger
whose point was stained an ominous red. He
was small and wiry, only a little over five feet in
height, but strong and quick as a panther. His
black hair, glossy with cocoa oil, streamed in the
wind, his eyes were lurid with the wild light of
insanity, his lips were parted in a savage snarl,
and he was foaming at the mouth. He had lost
all semblance of humanity, and as he stood there
looking for another victim, he might have been
transported bodily from one of Doré’s pictures of
Dante’s Inferno. Suddenly, he caught sight of a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[2]</a></span>
group of three coming down the pier, and leaping
to the wharf, he started toward them, his bare
feet padding along noiselessly, while he tightened
his grip on the murderous knife. A shot rang
out behind him but missed him, and he kept on
steadily, drawing nearer and nearer to his intended
prey.</p>
<p>The three companions, toward whom doom
was coming so swiftly and fearfully, were now
halfway down the pier. They were typical young
Americans, tall, clean cut, well knit, and with that
easy swing and carriage that marks the athlete
and bespeaks splendid physical condition. They
had been laughing and jesting and were evidently
on excellent terms with life. Their eyes were
bright, their faces tinged with the bronzed red of
perfect health, the blood ran warmly through
their veins, and it seemed a bitter jest of fate that
over them, of all men, should be flung the sinister
shadow of death. Yet never in all their life had
they been so near to it as on that sleepy summer
afternoon on that San Francisco wharf.</p>
<p>At the sound of the shot they looked up curiously.
And then they saw.</p>
<p>By this time the Malay was not more than fifty
feet away. He was running as a mad dog runs,
his head shaking from side to side, his kriss brandished
aloft, his burning eyes fixed on the central
figure of the three. He expected to die, was eager<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span>
to die, but first he wanted to kill. The dreadful
madness peculiar to the Malay race had come
upon him, and the savage instincts that slumbered
in him were now at flood. He had made all his
preparations for death, had prayed to his deities,
blackened his teeth as a sign of his intention, and
devoted himself to the infernal gods. Then by
the use of maddening drugs he had worked himself
into a state of wild delirium and started forth
to slay. They had sought to stop him as he
rushed out from the cook’s galley, but he had
slashed wildly right and left and one of them
had been left dangerously wounded on the steamer’s
deck. The captain and mates had rushed to
their cabins to get their revolvers, and it was the
shot from one of these that had tried vainly to
halt him in his death dealing course. The crew,
unarmed, had sought refuge where they could,
and now, with his thirst for blood still unslaked,
he rushed toward the unsuspecting strangers.</p>
<p>For one awful instant their hearts stood still as
they caught sight of the fiendish figure bearing
down upon them. None of them had a weapon.
They had never dreamed of needing one. Their
stout hearts and, at need, their fists, had always
proved sufficient, and they shared the healthy
American repugnance at relying on anything else
than nature had given them. There was no way
to evade the issue. Had they turned, the madman,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span>
with the impetus he already had, would have
been upon them before they could get under way.
There was no alternative. They <i>must</i> play with
that grim gambler, Death, with their lives as the
stakes. And at the thought, they stiffened.</p>
<p>The Malay was within ten feet. Quick as a
flash, the taller of the three dove straight for
the madman’s legs. The latter made a wicked
slash downward, but his arm was caught in a grip
of iron, and the next instant the would-be murderer
was thrown headlong to the pier, his knife
clattering harmlessly to one side. The three
were on him at once, and, though he fought like
a wildcat, they held him until the crowd, bold
now that the danger was past, swarmed down on
the wharf and trussed him securely with ropes.
Then the trio rose, shook themselves and looked
at each other.</p>
<p>“By Jove, Bert,” said the one who had grasped
the Malay’s arm as it was upraised to strike,
“that was the dandiest tackle I ever saw, and
I’ve seen you make a good many. If you’d done
that in a football game on Thanksgiving day,
they’d talk of it from one end of the country to
the other.”</p>
<p>“O, I don’t know, Dick,” responded Bert.
“Perhaps it wasn’t so bad, but then, you know, I
never had so much at stake before. Even at
that I guess it would have been all up with me,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span>
if you hadn’t grabbed that fellow’s hand just at
the minute you did.”</p>
<p>“If I hadn’t, Tom would,” rejoined Dick
lightly. “He went for it at the same instant, but
I was on the side of the knife hand and so got
there first. But it was a fearfully close shave,”
he went on soberly, “and I for one have had
enough of crazy Malays to last me a lifetime.”</p>
<p>“Amen to that,” chimed in Tom, fervently,
“a little of that sort of thing goes a great way.
If this is a sample of what we’re going to meet,
there won’t be much monotony on this trip.”</p>
<p>“Well, no,” laughed Bert, “not so that you
could notice it. Still, when you tackle the Pacific
Ocean, you’re going to find it a different proposition
from sailing on a mill pond, and I shouldn’t
be surprised if we found action enough to keep
our joints from getting rusty before we get back.”</p>
<p>The crowd that had seemed to come from
everywhere were loud in their commendation of
the boys’ courage and presence of mind. Soon,
an ambulance that had been hastily summoned
rattled up to the pier, at top speed, and took
charge of the wounded sailor, while a patrol
wagon carried the maniac to the city prison. The
throng melted away as rapidly as it had gathered,
and the three chums mounted the gangway of the
steamer. A tall, broad shouldered man in a captain’s
uniform advanced to greet them.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span></p>
<p>“That was one of the pluckiest things I ever
saw,” he said warmly, as he grasped their hands.
“You were lucky to come out of that scrape alive.
Those Malays are holy terrors when they once
get started. I’ve seen them running amuck in
Singapore and Penang before now, but never yet
on this side of the big pond. That fellow has
been sullen and moody for days, but I’ve been so
busy getting ready to sail that I didn’t give it a
second thought. I had a bead drawn on the beggar
when he was making toward you, but didn’t
dare to fire for fear of hitting one of you. But
all’s well that ends well, and I’m glad you came
through it without a scratch. You were coming
toward the ship,” he went on, as he looked at
them inquiringly, “and I take it that your business
was with me.”</p>
<p>“Yes, sir,” answered Bert, acting as spokesman.
“My name is Wilson, and these are my two
friends, Mr. Trent and Mr. Henderson.”</p>
<p>“Wilson,” repeated the captain in pleased surprise.
“Why, not the wireless operator that the
company told me they had engaged to make this
trip?”</p>
<p>“The same,” replied Bert, smiling.</p>
<p>“Well, well,” said the captain, “I’m doubly
glad to meet you, although I had no idea that our
first meeting would take place under such exciting
circumstances. You can’t complain that we<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span>
didn’t give you a warm reception,” he laughed.
“Come along, and I’ll show you your quarters
and introduce you to the other officers.”</p>
<p>Had any one told Bert Wilson, a month earlier,
that on this June day he would be the wireless
operator of the good ship “<i>Fearless</i>,” Abel Manning,
Captain, engaged in the China trade, he
would have regarded it as a joke or a dream.
He had just finished his Freshman year in College.
It had been a momentous year for him in more
ways than one. He had won distinction in his
studies—a matter of some satisfaction to his
teachers. But he had been still more prominent
on the college diamond—a matter of more satisfaction
to his fellow students. He had just
emerged from a heart breaking contest, in which
his masterly twirling had won the pennant for
his Alma Mater, and incidentally placed him in
the very front rank of college pitchers. His
plans for the summer vacation were slowly taking
shape, when, one day, he was summoned to
the office of the Dean.</p>
<p>“Sit down, Wilson,” he said, as he looked up
from some papers, “I’ll be at liberty in a moment.”</p>
<p>For a few minutes he wrote busily, and then
whirled about in his office chair and faced Bert,
pleasantly.</p>
<p>“What are your plans for the summer, Wilson?”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span>
he asked. “Have you anything definite
as yet?”</p>
<p>“Not exactly, sir,” answered Bert. “I’ve had
several invitations to spend part of the time with
friends, but, as perhaps you know, I haven’t any
too much money, and I want to earn some during
the vacation, to help me cover my expenses for
next year. I’ve written to my Congressman at
Washington to try to get me work in one of the
wireless stations on the coast, but there seems to
be so much delay and red tape about it that I
don’t know whether it will amount to anything.
If that doesn’t develop, I’ll try something else.”</p>
<p>“Hum,” said the Dean, as he turned to his
desk and took a letter from a pigeon hole.
“Now I have here a line from Mr. Quinby, the
manager of a big fleet of steamers plying between
San Francisco and the chief ports of China. It
seems that one of his vessels, the <i>Fearless</i>, needs
a good wireless operator. The last one was careless
and incompetent, and the line had to let him
go. Mr. Quinby is an old grad of the college,
and an intimate personal friend of mine. He
knows the thoroughness of our scientific course”—here
a note of pride crept into the Dean’s voice—“and
he writes to know if I can recommend one
of our boys for the place. The voyage will take
between two and three months, so that you can be
back by the time that college opens in the Fall.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span>
The pay is good and you will have a chance to see
something of the world. How would you like
the position?”</p>
<p>How would he like it? Bert’s head was in a
whirl. He had always wanted to travel, but it
had seemed like an “iridescent dream,” to be
realized, if at all, in the far distant future. Now
it was suddenly made a splendid possibility.
China and the islands of the sea, the lands of
fruits and flowers, of lotus and palm, of minarets
and pagodas, of glorious dawns and glittering
noons and spangled nights! The East rose before
him, with its inscrutable wisdom, its passionless
repose, its heavy-lidded calm. It lured him
with its potency and mystery, its witchery and
beauty. Would he go!</p>
<p>He roused himself with an effort and saw the
Dean regarding him with a quizzical smile.</p>
<p>“Like it,” he said enthusiastically, “there’s
nothing in all the world I should like so well.
That is,” he added, “if you are sure I can do
the work. You know of course that I’ve had no
practical experience.”</p>
<p>“Yes,” said the Dean, “but I’ve already had
a talk with your Professor of Applied Electricity,
and he says that there isn’t a thing about wireless
telegraphy that you don’t understand. He
tells me that you are equally familiar with the
Morse and the Continental codes, and that you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span>
are quicker to detect and remedy a defect than
any boy in your class. From theory to practice
will not be far, and he is confident that before
your ship clears the Golden Gate you’ll know
every secret of its wireless equipment from A to Z.
I don’t mind telling you that your name was the
first one that occurred to both him and myself,
as soon as the matter was broached. Mr.
Quinby has left the whole thing to me, so that, if
you wish to go, we’ll consider the matter settled,
and I’ll send him a wire at once.”</p>
<p>“I’ll go,” said Bert, “and glad of the chance.
I can’t thank you enough for your kindness and
confidence, but I’ll do my very best to deserve
it.”</p>
<p>“I’m sure of that,” was the genial response,
and, after a few more details of time and place
had been settled, Bert took the extended hand
of the Dean and left the office, feeling as though
he were walking on air.</p>
<p>His first impulse was to hunt up his two chums,
Tom and Dick, and tell them of his good fortune.
Tom was a fellow classmate, while Dick had had
one year more of college life. The bond that
united them was no common one, and had been
cemented by a number of experiences shared together
for several years back. More than once
they had faced serious injury or possible death together,
in their many scrapes and adventures, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span>
the way they had backed each other up had convinced
each that he had in the others comrades
staunch and true. During the present year, they
had all been members of the baseball team, Tom
holding down third base in dashing style and Dick
starring at first; and many a time the three had
pulled games out of the fire and wrested victory
from defeat. In work and fun they were inseparable;
and straight to them now Bert went,
flushed and elated with the good luck that had befallen
him.</p>
<p>“Bully for you, old man,” shouted Dick, while
Tom grabbed his hand and clapped him on the
back; “It’s the finest thing that ever happened.”</p>
<p>“It sure is,” echoed Tom. “Just think of
good old Bert among the Chinks. <i>And</i> the tea
houses—<i>and</i> the tomtoms—<i>and</i> the bazaars—<i>and</i>
the jinrikishas—and all the rest. By the
time he gets back, he’ll have almond eyes and a
pig-tail and be eating his rice with chop sticks.”</p>
<p>“Not quite as bad as that, I hope,” laughed
Bert. “I’ve no ambition to be anything else than a
good American, and probably all I’ll see abroad
will only make me the more glad to see the Stars
and Stripes again when I get back to ‘God’s
country.’ But it surely will be some experience.”</p>
<p>Now that the first excitement was over, the
conversation lagged a little, and a slight sense
of constraint fell upon them. All were thinking<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span>
of the same thing. Tom was the first to voice
the common thought.</p>
<p>“Gee, Bert,” he said, “how I wish that Dick
and I were coming along!”</p>
<p>“Why not?” asked Dick, calmly.</p>
<p>Bert and Tom looked at him in amazement.</p>
<p>“What!” yelled Bert. “You don’t really think
there’s a chance?”</p>
<p>“A chance? Yes,” answered Dick. “Of
course it’s nothing but a chance—as yet. The
whole thing is so sudden and there are so many
things to be taken into account that it can’t be
doped out all at once. It may prove only a pipe
dream after all. But Father promised me a trip
abroad at the end of my course, if I got through
all right, and, under the circumstances, he may be
willing to anticipate a little. Then too, you
know, he’s a red-hot baseball fan, and he’s tickled
to death at the way we trimmed the other teams
this year. And we all know that Tom’s folks
have money to burn, and it ought to be no trick
at all for him to get their consent. I tell you
what, fellows, let’s get busy with the home people,
right on the jump.”</p>
<p>And get busy they did, with the result that after
a great deal of humming and hawing and
backing and filling, the longed for consents were
more or less reluctantly given. The boys’ delight
knew no bounds, and it was a hilarious group<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span>
that made things hum on the Overland Limited,
as it climbed the Rockies and dropped down the
western slope to the ocean. The world smiled
upon them. Life ran riot within them. They
had no inkling of how closely death would graze
them before they even set foot upon their ship.
Nor did they dream of the perils that awaited
them, in days not far distant when that ship, passing
through the Golden Gate, should turn its prow
toward the East and breast the billows of the
Pacific.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span></p>
<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II</a></h2>
<h3><span class="smcap">An Unexpected Meeting</span></h3>
<p class="cap">The “Fearless” was a smart, staunch ship
of about three thousand tons—one of a
numerous fleet owned by the line of which Mr.
Quinby was the manager. She had been built
with special reference to the China trade, and was
designed chiefly for cargoes, although she had accommodations
for a considerable number of passengers.
She was equipped with the latest type
of modern screw engines, and although she did
not run on a fixed schedule, could be counted on,
almost as certainly as a regular liner, to make her
port at the time appointed. Everything about
the steamer was seamanlike and shipshape, and
the boys were most favorably impressed, as, under
the guidance of Captain Manning, they made
their way forward. Here they were introduced
to the first and second officers, and then shown
to the quarters they were to occupy during the
voyage.</p>
<p>Like everything else about the ship, these were
trim and comfortable, and the boys were delighted
to find that they had been assigned adjoining<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span>
rooms. By the time they had washed and
changed their clothes, it was time for supper,
and to this they did ample justice. They were
valiant trenchermen, and even the narrow escape
of the afternoon had not robbed them of their
appetites.</p>
<p>“You’d better eat while you can, fellows,”
laughed Bert. “We sail to-morrow, and twenty-four
hours from now, you may be thinking so
little of food that you’ll be giving it all to the
fishes.”</p>
<p>“Don’t you worry,” retorted Dick, “I’ve
trolled for bluefish off the Long Island coast in
half a gale, and never been seasick yet.”</p>
<p>“Yes,” said Bert, “but scudding along in a catboat
is a different thing from rising and falling
on the long ocean swells. We haven’t any swinging
cabins here to keep things always level, and
the ship isn’t long enough to cut through three
waves at once like the big Atlantic liners.”</p>
<p>“Well,” said Tom, “if we do have to pay tribute
to Neptune, I hope we won’t be so badly off
as the poor fellow who, the first hour, was afraid
he was going to die, and, the second hour, was
afraid he couldn’t die.”</p>
<p>“Don’t fret about dying, boys,” put in the
ship’s doctor, a jolly little man, with a paunch
that denoted a love of good living; “You fellows
are so lucky that they couldn’t kill you with an<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span>
axe. Though that knife did come pretty near doing
the trick, didn’t it? ‘The sweet little cherub
that sits up aloft, looking after the life of poor
Jack,’ was certainly working overtime, when that
Malay went for you to-day.”</p>
<p>“Yes,” returned Dick, “but he slipped a cog
in not looking after the poor fellow that brute
wounded first. By the way, doctor, how is he?
Will he live?”</p>
<p>“O, he’ll pull through all right,” answered the
doctor. “I gave his wound the first rough dressing
before the ambulance took him away. Luckily,
the blade missed any of the vital organs, and
a couple of months in the hospital will bring him
around all right. That is, unless the knife was
poisoned. These beggars sometimes do this, in
order to make assurance doubly sure. I picked
up the knife as it lay on the pier, and will turn
it over to the authorities to-morrow. They’ll
have to use it in evidence, when the case comes
up for trial.”</p>
<p>He reached into his breast pocket as he spoke
and brought out the murderous weapon. The
boys shuddered as they looked at it and realized
how near they had come to being its victims.
They handled it gingerly as they passed it around,
being very careful to avoid even a scratch, in
view of what the doctor had said about the possibility
of it being poisoned.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span></p>
<p>It was nearly a foot in length, with a massive
handle that gave it a secure grip as well as additional
force behind the stroke. The hilt was engraved
with curious characters, probably an invocation
to one of the malignant gods to whom it
was consecrated. The blade was broad, with the
edge of a razor and the point of a needle. But
what gave it a peculiarly deadly and sinister significance
was the wavy, crooked lines followed by
the steel, and which indicated the hideous wounds
it was capable of inflicting.</p>
<p>“Nice little toy, isn’t it?” asked the doctor.</p>
<p>“It certainly is,” replied Bert. “A bowie knife
is innocent, compared with this.”</p>
<p>“What on earth is it,” asked Dick, “that
makes these fellows so crazy to kill those that
have never done them an injury and that they
have never even seen? I can understand how the
desire for revenge may prompt a man to go to
such lengths to get even with an enemy, but why
they attack every one without distinction is beyond
me.”</p>
<p>“Well,” replied the doctor, “it’s something
with which reason has nothing to do. The
Malays are a bloodthirsty, merciless race. They
brood and sulk, until, like that old Roman emperor—Caligula,
wasn’t it?—they wish that the
human race had only one neck, so that they could
sever it with a single blow. They are sick of life<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span>
and determine to end it all, but before they go, all
the pent up poison of hate that has been fermenting
in them finds expression in the desire to
take as many as possible with them. Then too,
there may be some obscure religious idea underneath
it all, of offering to the gods as many victims
as possible, and thus winning favor for themselves.
Or, like the savage despots of Africa,
who decree that when they are buried hundreds
of their subjects shall be slaughtered and buried
in the same grave, they may feel that their victims
will have to serve them in the future world.
Scientists have never analyzed the matter satisfactorily.”</p>
<p>“Well,” said Dick, as they rose from the table,
“one doesn’t have to be a scientist to know this
much at least—that wherever a crazy Malay happens
to be, it’s a mighty healthy thing to be somewhere
else.”</p>
<p>“I guess nobody aboard this steamer would be
inclined to dispute that,” laughed the doctor, as
they separated and went on deck.</p>
<p>Although his duties did not begin until the following
day, Bert was eager beyond anything else
to inspect the wireless equipment of the ship, and
went at once to the wireless room, followed by
the others.</p>
<p>It was with immense satisfaction that he established
that here he had under his hand the very<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span>
latest in wireless telegraphy. From the spark
key to the antennae, waving from the highest
mast of the ship, everything was of the most approved
and up to date type. No matter how
skilful the workman, he is crippled by lack of
proper tools; and Bert’s heart exulted as he realized
that, in this respect, at least he had no reason
for complaint.</p>
<p>“It’s a dandy plant, fellows,” he gloated.
“There aren’t many Atlantic liners have anything
on this.”</p>
<p>“How far can she talk, Bert?” asked Dick,
examining the apparatus with the keenest interest.</p>
<p>“That depends on the weather, very largely,”
answered Bert. “Under almost any conditions
she’s good for five hundred miles, and when
things are just right, two or three times as far.”</p>
<p>“What’s the limit, anyway, Bert?” asked
Tom. “How far have they been able to send under
the very best conditions?”</p>
<p>“I don’t believe there is any real limit,” answered
Bert. “I haven’t any doubt that, before
many years, they’ll be able to talk half way round
the world. Puck, you know, in the ‘Midsummer
Night’s Dream’ boasted that he would ‘put a
girdle round the earth in forty minutes.’ Well,
the wireless will go him one better, and go round
in less than forty seconds. Why, only the other<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span>
day at Washington, when the weather conditions
were just right, the officials there heard two stations
talking to each other, off the coast of Chili,
six or seven thousand miles away. Of course,
ships will never talk at that distance, because they
can’t get a high enough mast or tower to overcome
the curvature of the earth. But from land
stations it is only a question of getting a high
enough tower. They can talk easily now from
Berlin to Sayville, Long Island, four thousand
miles, by means of towers seven or eight hundred
feet high. The Eiffel Tower at Paris, because
still higher, has a longer range. It isn’t so very
long ago that they were glad enough to talk across
a little creek or canal, a few feet wide. Then
they tried an island, three or four miles away,
then another, fourteen miles from the mainland.
By the time they had done that, they knew that
they had the right principle, and that it was only
a matter of time before they’d bind the ends of
the earth together. It started as a creeping infant;
now, it’s a giant, going round the world
in its seven league boots.”</p>
<p>“Hear hear,” cried Dick, “how eloquent Bert
is getting. He’ll be dropping into poetry next.”</p>
<p>“Well,” chipped in Tom, “there <i>is</i> poetry
sure enough in the crash of the spark and its leap
out into the dark over the tumbling waves from
one continent to another, but, to me, it’s more<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span>
like witchcraft. It’s lucky Marconi didn’t live
two or three hundred years ago. He’d surely
have been burned at the stake, for dabbling in
black magic.”</p>
<p>“Yes,” rejoined Bert, “and Edison and Tesla
would have kept him company. But now clear
out, you fellows, and let me play with this toy
of mine. I want to get next to all its quips and
quirks and cranks and curves, and I can’t do it
with you dubs talking of poets and witches. Skip,
now,” and he laughingly shooed them on deck.</p>
<p>Left to himself, he went carefully over every
detail of the equipment. Everything—detector,
transmitter, tuning coil and all the other parts—were
subjected to the most minute and critical
inspection, and all stood the test royally. It
was evident that no niggardly consideration of
expense had prevented the installation of the latest
and best materials. Bert’s touch was almost
caressing, as he handled the various parts, and his
heart thrilled with a certain sense of ownership.
There had been a wireless plant at one of the
college buildings, and he had become very expert
in its use; but hundreds of others had used
it, too, and he was only one among many. Moreover,
that plant had filled no part in the great
world of commerce or of life, except for purposes
of instruction. But this was the real thing, and
from the time the steamer left the wharf until,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span>
on its return, it again swung into moorings, he
would be in complete control. How many times
along the invisible current would he feel the pulsing
of the world’s heart; what messages of joy
or pain or peril would go from him or come to
him, as he sat with his finger on the key and the
receiver at his ear! He stood on the threshold
of a new world, and it was a long time before he
tore himself away, and went to rejoin his friends
on the upper deck.</p>
<p>A young man, whose figure had something familiar
about it was pacing to and fro. Bert
cudgeled his memory. Of whom did it remind
him? The young man turned and their eyes met.
There was a start of recognition.</p>
<p>“Why, this must be Bert Wilson,” said the
newcomer, extending his hand.</p>
<p>“Yes,” replied Bert, grasping it warmly, “and
you are Ralph Quinby or his double.”</p>
<p>“Quinby, sure enough,” laughed Ralph, “and
delighted to see you again. But what on earth
brings you here, three thousand miles from
home?”</p>
<p>“I expect to be twelve thousand miles from
home before I get through,” answered Bert; and
then he told him of his engagement as wireless
operator for the voyage.</p>
<p>“That’s splendid,” said Ralph, heartily.
“We’ll have no end of fun. I was just feeling<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span>
a bit down in the mouth, because I didn’t know
a soul on board except the captain. You see,
my father is manager of the line, and he wanted
me to take the trip, so that I could enlarge my experience
and be fit to step into his shoes when he
gets ready to retire. So that, in a way, it’s a
pleasure and business trip combined.”</p>
<p>“Here are some other fellows you know,” remarked
Bert, as he beckoned to Tom and Dick
who came over from the rail.</p>
<p>They needed no introduction. A flood of
memories swept over them as they shook hands.
They saw again the automobile race, when Ralph
in the “<i>Gray Ghost</i>” and Bert at the wheel of
the “<i>Red Scout</i>” had struggled for the mastery.
Before their eyes rose the crowded stands; they
heard the deafening cheers and the roar of the exhausts;
they saw again that last desperate spurt,
when, with the throttle wide open, the “Red
Scout” had challenged its gallant enemy in the
stretch and flashed over the line, a winner.</p>
<p>That Ralph remembered it too was evident
from the merry twinkle in his eyes, as he looked
from one to the other of the group.</p>
<p>“You made me take your dust that day, all
right,” he said, “but I’ve never felt sore over
that for a minute. It was a fair and square race,
and the best car and the best driver won.”</p>
<p>“Not on your life,” interjected Bert, warmly.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span>
“The best car, perhaps, but not the best driver.
You got every ounce of speed out of your machine
that anyone could, and after all it was only
a matter of inches at the finish.”</p>
<p>“Well, it was dandy sport, anyway, win or
lose,” returned Ralph. “By the way, I have the
‘Gray Ghost’ with me now. It’s crated up on
the forward deck, and will be put down in the
hold to-morrow. So come along now, and take
a look at it.”</p>
<p>There, sure enough, was the long, powerful,
gray car, looking “fit to run for a man’s life,”
as Ralph declared, while he patted it affectionately.</p>
<p>“I thought I’d bring it along,” he said, “to
use while we are in port at our various stopping
places. It will take a good many days to unload,
and then ship our return cargo, and, if the roads
are good, we’ll show the natives some new wrinkles
in the way of fancy driving. We’re all of
us auto fiends, and I want you to feel that the
car is as much yours as mine, all through the trip.
That is,” he added, mischievously, “if you fellows
don’t feel too haughty to ride in a car that
you’ve already beaten.”</p>
<p>With jest and laughter, the time passed rapidly.
The evening deepened, and a hush fell over the
waters of the bay. Lanterns twinkled here and
there like fireflies among the shipping, while from<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span>
an occasional boat rose the tinkling of a banjo
or guitar. From the shore side came the night
sounds of the great city, sitting proudly on her
many hills and crowned with innumerable lights.
Silence gathered over the little group, as they
gazed, and each was busy with his own thoughts.
This loved land of theirs—by this time to-morrow,
it would be out of sight below the horizon.
Who knew when they would see it again, or
through what perils they might pass before they
once more touched its shores? It was the little
shiver before the plunge, as they stood upon the
brink of the unknown; and they were a trifle more
quiet than usual, when at last they said good-night
and sought forgetfulness in sleep.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span></p>
<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III</a></h2>
<h3><span class="smcap">A Startling Message</span></h3>
<p class="cap">The next morning, all was stir and bustle on
board the steamer. The great cranes
groaned, as they hoisted aboard the last of the
freight, and lowered it into the hold, that gaped
like a huge monster, whose appetite could never
be satiated. Men were running here and there,
in obedience to the hoarse commands of the mates,
and bringing order out of the apparent confusion.
The pier and decks were thronged with friends
and relatives of the passengers, come to say good-by
to those who seemed to become doubly dear,
as the hour of parting drew near. The cabins
were piled with flowers that, under the inexorable
rules of sea-going ships, would have to be thrown
overboard, as soon as the vessel had cleared the
harbor. Everywhere there were tears and smiles
and hand grasps, as friends looked into each
other’s eyes, with the unspoken thought that the
parting “might be for years, or it might be forever.”</p>
<p>The boys had risen early, and, after a hearty
breakfast, had come on deck, where they watched<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span>
with keenest zest the preparations for the start.
It was a glorious day and one that justified all
they had heard of the wonderful California climate.
The sun was bright, but not oppressive,
and a delightful breeze blew up from the bay.
The tang of the sea was in their nostrils, and,
as they gazed over the splendid panorama spread
out before them, their spirits rose and their hearts
swelled with the mere joy of living. The slight
melancholy of the night before had vanished
utterly, and something of the old Viking spirit
stirred within them, as they sniffed the salt breeze
and looked toward the far horizon where the sky
and waves came together. They, too, were Argonauts,
and who knew what Golden Fleece of delight
and adventure awaited their coming, in the
enchanting empires of the East, or in the</p>
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">“Summer isles of Eden, lying<br /></span>
<span class="i0">In dark purple spheres of sea.”<br /></span>
</div></div>
<p>As they stood at the rail, filling their lungs with
the invigorating air, and watching the animated
scenes about them, Ralph came up to them,
accompanied by an alert, keen-eyed man, whom
he introduced as his father.</p>
<p>He shook hands cordially with the boys, but
when he learned that Dick and Tom, as well as
Bert, were all students in the college from which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span>
he had himself graduated, his cordiality became
enthusiasm. He was one of the men who, despite
the passing of the years and the growth of business
cares, remain young in heart, and he was
soon laughing and chatting as gaily as the boys
themselves. There was nothing of the snob about
him, despite his wealth and prominence, and, in
this respect Ralph was “a chip of the old block.”</p>
<p>“So you are the Wilson whose fadeaway ball
won the pennant, are you?” as he turned to Bert.
“By George, I’d like to have seen that last game.
The afternoon that game was played, I had the
returns sent in over a special wire in my office.
And when you forged ahead and then held down
their heavy hitters in the ninth, I was so excited
that I couldn’t keep still, but just got up and
paced the floor, until I guess my office force
thought I was going crazy. But you turned the
trick, all right, and saved my tottering reason,”
he added, jovially.</p>
<p>The boys laughed. “It’s lucky I didn’t know
all that,” grinned Bert, “or I might have got so
nervous that they would have knocked me out of
the box. But since you are so interested, let me
show you a memento of the game.” And running
below, he was back in a minute with the souvenir
presented to him by the college enthusiasts.</p>
<p>It was a splendid gift. The identical ball with
which he had struck out the opposing team’s most<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span>
dangerous slugger in the ninth had been encased
in a larger ball of solid gold on which Bert’s name
had been engraved, together with the date and
score of the famous game. Now it was passed
from hand to hand amid loud expressions of
admiration.</p>
<p>“It’s certainly a beauty,” commented Mr.
Quinby, “and my only regret is that I wasn’t
called upon to contribute toward getting it. I
suppose it will be rather hard on you fellows,”
he went on, “to have to go without any baseball
this summer. If I know you rightly, you’d rather
play than eat.”</p>
<p>“Oh, well,” broke in Ralph, “they may be able
to take a fling at it once in a while, even if they
are abroad. It used to be the ‘national’ game,
but it is getting so popular everywhere that we’ll
soon have to call it the ‘international’ game. In
Japan, especially, there are some corking good
teams, and they play the game for all it is worth.
Take the nine of Waseda University, and they’d
give Yale or Princeton all they wanted to do to
beat them. Last year, they hired a big league
star to come all the way from America, to act as
coach. They don’t have enough ‘beef,’ as a
rule, to make them heavy sluggers, but they are
all there in bunting and place hitting, and they
are like cats on the bases.”</p>
<p>“Yes,” said Dick, “and, even leaving foreigners<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span>
out of the question, the crews from Uncle
Sam’s warships have what you might call a Battleship
League among themselves, and every vessel
has its nine. Feeling runs high when they are in
port, and the games are as hotly contested as
though a World’s Series were in question. I’m
told that, at the time of the Boxer rebellion, there
were some dandy games played by our boys right
under the walls of Peking.”</p>
<p>Just here the captain approached, and, with a
hearty handshake and best wishes for the journey,
Mr. Quinby went forward with him to discuss
business details connected with the trip.</p>
<p>Ten o’clock, the hour set for starting, was at
hand. The first bell, warning all visitors ashore,
had already rung. The last bale of freight had
been lowered into the hold and the hatches battened
down. There was the usual rush of eleventh
hour travelers, as the taxis and cabs rattled
down to the piers and discharged their occupants.
All the passengers were on the shore side of the
vessel, calling to their friends on the dock, the
women waving their handkerchiefs, at one moment,
and, the next, putting them to their eyes.
The last bell rang, the huge gangplank swung
inward, there was a tinkling signal in the engine
room and the propellers began slowly to revolve.
The steamer turned down the bay, passed the
Golden Gate where the sea lions sported around<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span>
the rocks, and out into the mighty Pacific. The
voyage of the <i>Fearless</i> had begun.</p>
<p>Down in the wireless room, Bert had buckled
to his work. With the telephone receiver held
close to his ears by a band passing over his head,
he exchanged messages with the land they were
so rapidly leaving behind them, with every revolution
of the screws. Amid the crashing of the
sounder and the spitting blue flames, he felt perfectly
in his element. Here was work, here was
usefulness, here was power, here was life. Between
this stately vessel, with its costly cargo and
still more precious freight of human lives, and
the American continent, he was the sole connecting
link. Through him alone, father talked with
son, husband with wife, captain with owner,
friend with friend. Without him, the vessel was
a hermit, shut out from the world at large; with
him, it still held its place in the universal life.</p>
<p>But this undercurrent of reflection and exultation
did not, for a moment, distract him from his
work. The messages came in rapidly. He knew
they would. The first day at sea is always the
busiest one. There were so many last injunctions,
so many things forgotten in the haste of farewell,
that he was taxed to the utmost to keep his work
well in hand. Fortunately he was ambidextrous,
could use his left hand almost as readily as his
right, and this helped him immensely. From an<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span>
early age, more from fun than anything else, he
had cultivated writing with either hand, without
any idea that the day would come when this would
prove a valuable practical accomplishment. Now
with one finger on the key, he rapidly wrote down
the messages with the other, and thus was able to
double the rapidity and effectiveness of his work.</p>
<p>Before long there was a lull in the flood of
messages, and when time came for dinner, he signaled
the San Francisco office to hold up any further
communications for an hour or so, threw
off his receiver, and joined his friends at the table.</p>
<p>“Well, Bert, how does she go?” asked Dick,
who sat at his right, while Tom and Ralph faced
them across the table.</p>
<p>“Fine,” answered Bert, enthusiastically. “It
isn’t work; it’s pleasure. I’m so interested in it
that I almost grudge the time it takes to eat,
and that’s something new for me.”</p>
<p>“It must be getting serious, if it hits you as
hard as that,” said Tom, in mock concern. “I’ll
have to give the doctor a tip to keep his eye on
you.”</p>
<p>“Oh, Bert just says that, so that when he gets
seasick, he’ll have a good excuse for not coming
to meals,” chaffed Ralph.</p>
<p>“Well, watch me, fellows, if you think my
appetite is off,” retorted Bert, as he attacked his
food with the avidity of a wolf.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span></p>
<p>“By the way,” asked Dick, “what arrangements
have you made for any message that may
come, while you are toying with your dinner in
this languid fashion?”</p>
<p>“I’ve told the San Francisco man to hold
things up for a while,” replied Bert. “That’s
the only station we’re likely to hear from just
now, and the worst of the rush is over. After
we get out of range of the land stations, all that
we’ll get will be from passing ships, and that will
only be once in a while.”</p>
<p>“Of course,” he went on, “theoretically, there
ought to be someone there every minute of the
twenty-four hours. You might be there twenty-three
hours and fifty-nine minutes, and nothing
happen. But, in the last minute of the twenty-fourth
hour, there might be something of vital
importance. You know when that awful wreck
occurred last year, the operator was just about to
take the receiver from his head, when he caught
the call. One minute later, and he wouldn’t have
heard it and over eight hundred people would
have been lost.”</p>
<p>“I suppose,” said Ralph, “that, as a matter of
fact, there ought to be two or three shifts, so that
someone could be on hand all the time. I know
that the Company is considering something of the
kind, but ‘large bodies move slowly,’ and they
haven’t got to it yet.”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span></p>
<p>“For my part,” chimed in Tom, “I should
think that with all the brains that are working
on the subject, there would have been some way
devised to make a record of every call, and warn
the operator at any minute of the day or night.”</p>
<p>“They’re trying hard to get something practical,”
said Bert. “Marconi himself is testing
out a plan that he thinks will work all right. His
idea is to get a call that will be really one long
dash, so that it won’t be confounded with any
letter of the alphabet. He figures on making this
so strong that it will pass through a very sensitive
instrument with sufficient force to ring a bell,
that will be at the bedside of the operator.”</p>
<p>“Rather rough on a fellow, don’t you think?”
joined in the ship’s doctor. “If he were at all
nervous, he might lie there awake, waiting for
the bell to ring. It reminds me of a friend of
mine, who once put up at a country hotel. He
was told that the man who slept in the next room
was very irritable and a mere bundle of nerves.
He couldn’t bear the least noise, and my friend
promised to keep it in mind. He was out rather
late that night, and when he started to retire he
dropped one of his shoes heavily on the floor.
Just then he remembered his nervous neighbor.
He went on undressing quietly, walked about on
tiptoe, put out the light, and crept into bed. Just
as he was going off to sleep, a voice came from<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span>
the other room: ‘Say, when in thunder are you
going to drop that other shoe?’”</p>
<p>“In the meantime,” went on Bert, when the
laugh had subsided, “they’ve got an ingenious
device on some of the British ships. It seems
rather cruel, because they have to use a frog.
You know how sensitive frogs are to electricity.
Well, they attach a frog to the receiving end, and
under him they put a sheet of blackened paper.
As the dots and dashes come in, the current jerks
the frog’s legs over the paper. The leg scrapes
the black away, and leaves white dots and dashes.
So that you can pick up the paper and read the
message just like any other, except that the letters
are white instead of black.”</p>
<p>“Poor old frogs,” said Ralph. “If they knew
enough, they’d curse the very name of electricity.
Galvani started with them in the early days, and
they’ve still got to ‘shake a leg’ in the interest
of science.”</p>
<p>“Yes,” murmured Tom, “it’s simply shocking.”</p>
<p>He ducked as Ralph made a playful pass at
him.</p>
<p>“There’s been quite a stir caused by it,” went
on Bert, calmly ignoring Tom’s awful pun, “and
the humane societies are taking it up. The probability
is that it will be abolished. It certainly
does seem cruel.”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span></p>
<p>“I don’t know,” said the doctor. “Like many
other questions, there are two sides to it. We
all agree that no pain should be inflicted upon
poor dumb animals, unless there is some great
good to be gained by it. But it is a law of life
that the lesser must give way to the greater. We
use the cow to get vaccine for small-pox, the horse
to supply the anti-toxin for diphtheria. Rabbits
and mice and guinea-pigs and monkeys we inoculate
with the germs of cancer and consumption,
in order to study the causes of these various diseases,
and, perhaps, find a remedy for them. All
this seems barbarous and cruel; but the common
sense of mankind agrees that it would be far more
cruel to let human beings suffer and die by the
thousands, when these experiments may save
them. If the twitching of a frog’s leg should
save a vessel from shipwreck, we would have
to overlook the frog’s natural reluctance to write
the message. I hope, though,” he concluded, as
he pushed back his chair, “that they’ll soon find
something else that will do just as well, and leave
the frog in his native puddle.”</p>
<p>When they reached the deck, they found that
the breeze had freshened, and, with the wind on
her starboard quarter, the <i>Fearless</i> was bowling
along in capital style. Her engines were working
powerfully and rhythmically, and everything betokened
a rapid run to Hawaii, which the captain<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span>
figured on reaching in about eight days. The
more seasoned travelers were wrapped in rugs
and stretched out in steamer chairs, but many of
the others had already sought the seclusion of
their staterooms. It was evident that there would
be an abundance of empty seats at the table that
evening.</p>
<p>Throughout the rest of the day the messages
were few and far between. Before that time
next day, they would probably have ceased altogether
as far as the land stations were concerned,
and from that time on until they reached Hawaii,
the chief communications would be from passing
ships within the wireless range.</p>
<p>The boys were gathered in the wireless room
that night, telling stories and cracking jokes, when
suddenly Bert’s ear caught a click. He straightened
up and listened eagerly. Then his face went
white and his eyes gleamed with excitement. It
was the S. O. S. signal, the call of deadly need
and peril. A moment more and he leaped to his
feet.</p>
<p>“Call the captain, one of you fellows, quick,”
he cried.</p>
<p>For this was the message that had winged its
way over the dark waste of waters:</p>
<p>“Our ship is on fire. Latitude 37:12, longitude
126:17. For God’s sake, help.”</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span></p>
<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV</a></h2>
<h3><span class="smcap">The Flaming Ship</span></h3>
<p class="cap">The captain came in hurriedly and read the
message. He figured out the position.</p>
<p>“She’s all of sixty miles away,” he said, looking
up from his calculation, “and even under
forced draught we can’t reach her in less than
three hours. Tell her we’re coming,” he ordered,
and hurried out to give the necessary directions.</p>
<p>The course of the ship was altered at once, the
engines were signaled for full speed ahead, and
with her furnaces roaring, she rushed through
the night to the aid of her sister vessel, sorely
beset by the most dreaded peril of the sea.</p>
<p>In the mean time Bert had clicked off the message:
“We’ve got you, old man. Ship, <i>Fearless</i>,
Captain Manning. Longitude 125:20, latitude
36:54. Will be with you in three hours. Cheer
up. If you’re not disabled, steam to meet us.”</p>
<p>Quickly the answer came back: “Thank God.
Fighting the fire, but it’s getting beyond us.
Hasn’t reached the engine room yet, but may
very soon. Hurry.”</p>
<p>In short, jerky sentences came the story of the
disaster. The steamer was the <i>Caledonian</i>, a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span>
tramp vessel, plying between Singapore and San
Francisco. There was a heavy cargo and about
forty passengers. A little while since, they had
detected fire in the hold, but had concealed the
fact from the passengers and had tried to stifle
it by their own efforts. It had steadily gained,
however, despite their desperate work, until the
flames burst through the deck. A wild panic had
ensued, but the captain and the mates had kept
the upper hand. The crew had behaved well, and
the boats were ready for launching if the worst
came to the worst. The fire was gaining.
“Hurry. Captain says——”</p>
<p>Then the story ceased. Bert called and called
again. No answer. The boys looked at each
other.</p>
<p>“The dynamo must have gone out of commission,”
said Bert. “I can’t get him. The flames
may have driven him out of the wireless room.”</p>
<p>All were in an agony of suspense and fear. It
seemed as though they crept, although the ship
shook with the vibration of its powerful engines,
working as they had never worked before. The
<i>Fearless</i> was fairly flying, as though she knew the
fearful need of haste.</p>
<p>Outside of the wireless room, none of the passengers
knew of the disaster. Most of them had
retired, and, if the few who were still up and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span>
about sensed anything unusual, the discipline of
the ship kept questions unspoken. All the officers
and the crew, however, were on the alert and
tingling with the strain, and every eye was turned
toward the distant horizon, to catch the first
glimpse of the burning vessel.</p>
<p>Out into the night, Bert sent his call desperately,
hoping to raise some other ship nearer to
the doomed steamer than the <i>Fearless</i>, but in
vain. He caught a collier, three hundred miles
away, and a United States gunboat, one hundred
and sixty miles distant, but, try as he would, there
was nothing nearer. Nobody but themselves
could attempt the rescue. Of course, there was
the chance that some sailing vessel, not equipped
with wireless, might come upon the scene, but this
was so remote that it could be dismissed from
consideration.</p>
<p>More than half the distance had been covered
when Dick, who had stepped outside, came running
in.</p>
<p>“Come on out, fellows,” he cried, excitedly.
“We can see a light in the sky that we think
must come from the fire.”</p>
<p>They followed him on the run. There, sure
enough, on the distant horizon, was a deep reddish
glow, that seemed to grow brighter with
every passing moment. At times, it waned a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span>
trifle, probably obscured by smoke, only to reappear
more crimson than ever, as the vessel drew
nearer.</p>
<p>“How far off do you suppose it is now?”
asked Tom.</p>
<p>“Not more than fifteen miles, I should think,”
answered Bert. “We’ll be there in less than an
hour now, if we can keep up this pace.”</p>
<p>The <i>Fearless</i> flew on, steadily cutting down the
distance, and now the sky was the color of blood.
Everything had been gotten in readiness for the
work of rescue. The boats had been cleared and
hung in their davits, ready to be lowered in a
trice. Lines of hose were prepared, not so much
with the hope of putting out the fire as to protect
their own vessel from the flying brands. Every
man of the crew was at his appointed place. Since
the wireless could no longer be used to send messages
of encouragement, rockets were sent up at
intervals to tell the unfortunates that help was
coming.</p>
<p>“Look!” cried Tom. “That was an actual
flash I saw that time.”</p>
<p>Gradually these became more frequent, and
now the upper part of the vessel came into view,
wreathed in smoke and flame. Soon the hull appeared,
and then they could get a clear idea of
the catastrophe.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span></p>
<p>The whole forward part of the vessel was a
seething mass of fire. The engines had been put
out of commission, and the hull wallowed helplessly
at the mercy of the waves. The officers
and crew, fighting to the last, had been crowded
aft, and the stern was black with passengers huddled
despairingly together. The supply of boats
had been insufficient, and two of these had been
smashed in lowering. Two others, packed to the
guards, had been pushed away from the vessel,
so as not to be set on fire by the brands that fell
in showers all around. Near the stern, some of
the sailors were hastily trying to improvise a raft
with spars and casks. They were working with
superhuman energy, but, hampered as they were
by the frantic passengers, could make but little
progress. And all the time the pitiless flames
were coming nearer and nearer, greedily licking
up everything that disputed their advance. It was
a scene of anguish and of panic such as had
never been dreamed of by the breathless spectators
who crowded the bow of the <i>Fearless</i>, as
it swiftly swept into the zone of light and prepared
to lower its boats.</p>
<p>Suddenly there was a great commotion visible
on the flaming ship. They had seen their rescuers.
Men shouted and pointed wildly; women
screamed and fell on their knees in thanksgiving.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span>
The boats already in the water gave way and
made for the <i>Fearless</i>. The sailors stopped work
upon the raft, now no longer needed, and turned
to with the officers who were striving desperately
to keep the more frenzied passengers from plunging
headlong into the sea and swimming to the
steamer. Their last refuge in the stern had grown
pitifully small now, and the flames, gathering volume
as they advanced, rushed toward them as
though determined not to be balked of the prey
that had seemed so surely in their grasp.</p>
<p>It was a moment for quick action, and Captain
Manning rose to the occasion. In obedience to
his sharp word of command, the sailors tumbled
into the boats, and these were dropped so smartly
that they seemed to hit the water together. Out
went the oars and away they pulled with all the
strength and practised skill of their sinewy arms.
Bert and Dick were permitted to go as volunteers
in the boat of Mr. Collins, the first mate, who
had given his consent with some reluctance, as
he had little faith in any but regular sailors in
cases of this kind; and his boat was the first to
reach the vessel and round to under the stern.</p>
<p>“Women and children first,” the unwritten law
of the sea, was strictly enforced, and they were
lowered one by one, until the boat sat so low in
the water that Mr. Collins ordered his crew to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span>
back away and let the next one take its place.
Just as it got under way, a woman holding a
baby in her arms, frantic with fright as she saw
the boat leaving, broke away from the restraining
hand of a sailor, and leaped from the stern. She
missed the gig, which was fortunate, as she would
certainly have capsized it, heavily laden as it
already was, and fell into the water. In an instant
Bert, who could swim like a fish, had
plunged in and grabbed her as she rose to the
surface. A few strokes of the oars and they
were hauled aboard, and the boat made for the
ship. Collins, a taciturn man, looked his approval
but said nothing at the time, although,
in a talk with the captain afterwards, he went so
far as to revise his opinion of volunteers and to
admit that an able seaman could have done no
better.</p>
<p>The rest of the passengers were quickly taken
off and then came the turn of the officers and
crew. The captain was the last to leave the devoted
vessel, and it was with a warm grasp of
sympathy and understanding that Captain Manning
greeted him as he came over the side. He
was worn with the strain and shaken with emotion.
He had done all that a man could do to
save his ship, but fate had been too strong for
him and he had to bow to the inevitable. He<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span>
refused to go below and take some refreshment,
but stood with knitted brows and folded arms
watching the burning steamer that had carried
his hopes and fortunes. They respected his grief
and left him alone for a time, while they made
arrangements for the homeless passengers and
crew.</p>
<p>These were forlorn enough. They had saved
practically no baggage and only the most cherished
of their personal belongings. Some had
been badly burned in their efforts to subdue the
flames, and all were at the breaking point from
excitement and fatigue. The doctors of both
ships were taxed to the utmost, administering
sedatives and tonics and dressing the wounds of
the injured. By this time the passengers of the
<i>Fearless</i> had, of course, been roused by the tumult,
and men and women alike vied with each
other in aiding the unfortunates. Cabins and
staterooms were prepared for the passengers,
while quarters in the forecastle were provided
for the crew who, with the proverbial stolidity and
fatalism of their kind, soon made themselves at
home, taking the whole thing as a matter of
course. They had just been at hand-grips with
death; but this had occurred to them so often
that they regarded it simply as an incident of
their calling.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span></p>
<p>There was no thought of sleep for Bert that
night. The sounder crashed and the blue flames
leaped for hours in the wireless room. The
operator of the <i>Caledonian</i> volunteered to help
him, but Bert wouldn’t hear of it and sent him
to his bunk, where, after the terrific strain, he
was soon in the sleep of utter exhaustion.</p>
<p>Then Bert called up the San Francisco station
and told his story. The owners of the ship were
notified that the vessel and cargo were a total
loss, but that all the passengers had been saved.
They sent their thanks to Captain Manning and
then wirelessed for details. Mr. Quinby, of
course, was called into the conference. Now that
it was settled that no lives had been lost, the most
important question was as to the disposition of
passengers and crew. They had been making for
San Francisco, but naturally it was out of the
question for the <i>Fearless</i> to relinquish her voyage
and take them into port.</p>
<p>Three courses were open. They could go to
Hawaii, the first stopping place, and there take
the first steamer leaving for San Francisco. Or
they could depend on the chance of meeting some
vessel homeward bound, to which they could
transship before reaching Honolulu. Or Bert
could send his call abroad through his wireless
zone and perhaps arrange for some ship coming<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span>
toward them to sail along a certain course, meet
them at a given location and there take charge
of the <i>Caledonian’s</i> people. In that case, the
owners, of course, would expect to recompense
them handsomely for their time and trouble.</p>
<p>As the survivors were desperately anxious to
reach home and friends at the earliest possible
moment, Bert was instructed to follow the latter
course and do his utmost to raise some approaching
vessel. For a long time his efforts were fruitless.
His call flew over the ocean wastes but
awoke no answering echo. At last, however, well
toward morning, his eager ear caught a responsive
click. It came from the <i>Nippon</i>, one of the
trans-Pacific liners plying between Yokohama and
San Francisco. She was less than four hundred
miles away and coming on a line slightly east of
the <i>Fearless</i>. The situation was explained, and
after the captains of the two steamers had carried
on a long conversation, it was agreed that the
<i>Nippon</i> should take charge of the survivors.
They would probably meet late that afternoon,
and arrangements were made to keep each other
informed hourly of pace and direction, until they
should come in sight.</p>
<p>Bert breathed a huge sigh of relief when that
question was settled. But his work was not yet
done. He must notify the United States Government<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span>
of the presence of the derelict as a menace
to navigation. The <i>Caledonian</i> had lost all its
upper works and part of the hull had been consumed.
But the waves breaking over it as it
lurched from side to side had kept it from burning
to the water’s edge, and it now tossed about,
a helpless hulk right in the lane of ships. So
many vessels have been lost by coming in collision
with such floating wrecks at night, that the
Government maintains a special line of gunboats,
whose one duty is to search them out and blow
them up with dynamite. Bert gave the exact latitude
and longitude to the San Francisco operator,
who promised to forward it at once to the
Navy Department at Washington.</p>
<p>Then, at last, Bert leaned back in his chair and
relaxed. The strain upon heart and nerve and
brain had been tremendous. But he had “stood
the gaff.” The first great test had been nobly
met. Cool, clever, self-reliant, he had not flinched
or wavered under the load of responsibility. The
emergency had challenged him and he had
mastered it. In this work, so new to him, he had
kept his courage and borne himself as a veteran
of the key.</p>
<p>He patted the key affectionately. Good old
wireless! How many parts it had played that
night and how well! Telling first of pain and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span>
terror and begging for help; then cheerily sending
hope and comfort and promise of salvation.
Without it, the dawn would now be breaking on
two small boats and a flimsy raft, crowded with
miserable refugees and tossing up and down on
the gray waves that threatened to engulf. Now
they were safe, thank God, warm and snug and
secure, soon to be called to the abundant breakfast,
whose savory odors already assailed his nostrils.
And now the whole world knew of the disaster
and the rescue; and the machinery of the
Government was moving with reference to that
abandoned hulk; and a great ship was bounding
toward them over the trackless waste to meet at
a given place and time and take the survivors
back to country and home and friends and love
and life. It was wonderful, mysterious, unbelievable——</p>
<p>A touch upon his shoulder roused him from his
reverie, and he looked up, to see the captain
standing beside him.</p>
<p>“You’ve done great work this night, Wilson,”
he said, smiling gravely, “and I’ll see that the
owners hear of it. But now you must be dead
tired, and I want you to get your breakfast and
turn in for a while. I’ll get Howland, the wireless
man of the <i>Caledonian</i>, to hold things down
for a few hours, while you get a rest. I’ve told<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span>
the cook to get a bite ready for you and then I
want you to tumble in.”</p>
<p>The “bite” resolved itself into a capacious
meal of steak and eggs, reinforced by fragrant
coffee, after which, obeying orders, he rolled into
his bunk and at once fell into deep and dreamless
sleep.</p>
<p>Meanwhile, the ship awoke to the life of a
new day. The sun streamed down from cloudless
skies and a spanking breeze blew over the
quarter. The air was like wine and to breathe
it was an inspiration. The sea smiled and dimpled
as its myriad waves reflected back the glorious
light. The <i>Fearless</i> slipped through the long
swells as swiftly as a water sprite, “footing it
featly” on her road to Hawaii, the Paradise of
the Pacific. Everything spoke of life and buoyancy,
and the terrible events of the night before
might well have been a frightful nightmare from
which they had happily awakened.</p>
<p>There were grim reminders, however, that it
had been more than a dream in the hurrying doctors,
the bandaged hands and faces, the haggard
features of the men and the semi-hysterical condition
of some of the women. But there had
been no death or mortal injury. The Red Death
had gazed upon them with its flaming eyes and
scorched them with its baleful breath, but they<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span>
had not been consumed. There were property
losses, but no wife had been snatched from her
husband, no mother wailed for her child. Under
the comforting influence of a hot breakfast, the
heartfelt sympathy of the passengers and the invigorating
air and sunshine, they gradually grew
more cheerful. After all, they were alive,
snatched by a miracle from a hideous death; and
how could or dared they complain of minor ills?
The tension relaxed as the hours wore on, and
by the time that Bert, after a most refreshing
sleep, appeared again on deck the scene was one
of animation and almost gaiety.</p>
<p>Straight to the wireless room he went, to be
met on the threshold by Dick and Tom and
Ralph, who gathered around him in tumultuous
greeting.</p>
<p>“Bully for you, old man,” cried Dick. “We
hear that you did yourself proud last night.”</p>
<p>“Yes,” chimed in Ralph. “I wouldn’t dare
to tell you what Father says in a message I’ve
just received, or you’d have a swelled head,
sure.”</p>
<p>“Nonsense,” answered Bert. “I simply did
what it was up to me to do. Good morning, Mr.
Howland,” he said, as the young fellow seated at
the key rose to greet him. “How are things
going?”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span></p>
<p>“Just jogging along,” answered Howland.
“I guess you cleaned up about everything before
you turned in. We’re getting beyond the shore
range, but I’ve been keeping in touch every hour
with the <i>Nippon</i>. The captain figures that we’ll
get together at about four this afternoon.”</p>
<p>The former operator of the <i>Caledonian</i> was
a well set-up, clear-eyed young fellow, about the
age of Bert and his chums, and a liking sprang
up between them at once. With the recuperative
power of youth he had almost entirely recovered
from the events of the night before, although
his singed hair and eyebrows bore eloquent testimony
to the perils he had faced and so narrowly
escaped. He had stuck to his post until the blistering
heat had made life impossible in the wireless
room, and then had done yeoman’s work in
aiding the officers and crew to fight the fire and
maintain order among the passengers. The boys
listened with keenest interest, while he went over
in graphic style his personal experiences.</p>
<p>“I can’t tell you how I felt when I got your
message,” he said, as he turned to Bert. “I had
about given up hope when your answer came. I
rushed at once to the captain and he passed the
word to the passengers and crew. It put new
heart and life into them all, and it was the only
thing that kept many from jumping into the sea<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span>
when the flames got so horribly near. But they
held on desperately, and when they saw your
rockets I wish you could have heard the cry that
went up. They knew then that it was only a
matter of minutes before your boats would be
under the stern. But it was fearfully close figuring,”
he went on, soberly. “You saw yourself
that fifteen minutes after the last boat pulled
away the whole stern was a mass of flames.”</p>
<p>“Well,” said Bert, as he slipped on the receiver,
and took charge of the key, “it’s lucky
that I got your call just when I did. A little
later and I’d have been off duty.”</p>
<p>“That reminds me,” broke in Ralph. “I sent
a message to Father to-day about that, urging
that you have an assistant to take charge when
you are at meals or in bed. I suggested, too,
that since Mr. Howland was here, he might be
willing to go on with us and act as your assistant.
He says he is agreeable if they want him
to, and I expect a wireless from Father to the
captain authorizing him to make the arrangement.”</p>
<p>“I hope he will,” said Bert, warmly. “Accidents
have an awkward way of happening just
when they ought not to, and when one thinks of
the life and property at stake it certainly seems
that somebody should be on the job all the time.”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span></p>
<p>A little later the looked-for message came instructing
Captain Manning to engage Howland
as Bert’s deputy during the voyage. From now
on, there would not be one moment of the twenty-four
hours that someone would not be on watch
to send or receive, much to Bert’s relief and delight.
Now he could breathe freely and enjoy his
work, without any torturing fears of what might
have happened while he slept.</p>
<p>By half-past three that afternoon the ships
were within twenty miles of each other. The
beautiful weather still continued and the sea was
as “calm as a millpond.” All were on the alert
to greet the oncoming steamer. Soon a dot appeared,
growing rapidly larger until it resolved
itself into a magnificent steamer, seven hundred
feet in length, with towering masts and deck piled
on deck, crowded with dense masses of people.
She made a stately picture as she came on until
a quarter of a mile from the <i>Fearless</i>. Then she
hove to and lowered her boats.</p>
<p>With deep emotion and the warmest thanks,
the survivors bade their rescuers good-by and
were carried over to the <i>Nippon</i>, their third temporary
home within twenty-four hours. By the
time the last boat had unloaded and been swung
on board, dusk had fallen. The ships squared
away on their separate courses and the bells in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span>
the engine room signaled full speed ahead.
Handkerchiefs waved and whistles tooted as they
passed each other, and the white-coated band on
the upper deck of the <i>Nippon</i> played “Home
Again.” The electric lights were suddenly turned
on and the great ship glowed in beauty from
stem to stern. They watched her as she drew
swiftly away, until her gleaming lights became
tiny diamonds on the horizon’s rim and then
faded into the night.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span></p>
<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V</a></h2>
<h3><span class="smcap">An Island Paradise</span></h3>
<p class="cap">“Land ho!” shouted the look-out from his
airy perch in the crow’s nest, and with
one accord the passengers of the <i>Fearless</i> rushed
on deck to catch the first glimpse of that wonderful
land they had all heard so much about.
Hawaii! What a vision of hill and plain, of
mountain and valley, of dangerous precipice and
treacherous canyon, of sandy beach and waving
palm, of radiant sunshine and brilliant moonlight,
the magic of that name evokes!</p>
<p>“Gee, fellows, can you see anything that looks
like land?” Bert asked of his companions, as
they elbowed their way through the crowd to the
railing of the ship. “Oh, yes, there it is,” he
cried a moment later, pointing to a tiny spot on
the horizon, “but it looks as if it were hundreds
of miles away.”</p>
<p>“It sure does,” Dick agreed. “If this atmosphere
were not so remarkably clear, we wouldn’t
be able to see it at all. It doesn’t matter how<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span>
far away it is, though, as long as it’s in sight.
For the last few days it has seemed to me that
we would never reach it,” and he gazed longingly
at the speck on the horizon that seemed to be
dissolving into two or three smaller parts that
became more distinct every moment.</p>
<p>“Yes, I can’t wait to try the little old ‘Gray
Ghost’ on some of those swell Hawaiian roads.
Say, fellows, can’t you just imagine yourselves in
the old car; can’t you feel the throb of the motor
and the whistling of the wind in your ears as she
takes a steep hill with a ‘give me something
hard, won’t you’ air? Can’t you?” he demanded,
joyfully, while the boys thrilled at the
mere prospect.</p>
<p>“You bet your life,” Tom agreed, enthusiastically.
“Make believe we won’t make things
hum in little old Hawaii, eh, fellows?” and they
all laughed from sheer delight.</p>
<p>“Glad to find you in such good spirits this fine
morning, boys,” came a genial voice behind them
and the boys turned to find the doctor regarding
them with a good-natured smile on his friendly
face. “I don’t wonder you feel good at the prospect
of setting foot on solid ground again. For,
no matter how enjoyable and prosperous the voyage
may be, one is always glad to get on shore
and feel that he may come and go when he pleases<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span>
and is not at the mercy of the elements. I for
one will be glad when we cast anchor.”</p>
<p>“I have always heard that Hawaii was one of
the most beautiful countries in the world, and I’ve
always wanted to see it,” said Bert. “What do
you think of it, Doctor? You must have been
here many times.”</p>
<p>Dr. Hamilton took two or three long puffs of
his cigar before he answered, reflectively, “It
has always seemed to me that when Nature discovered
Hawaii she had some time on her hands
that she didn’t know what to do with, so she
spent it in making this obscure little group of
islands way out in the Pacific, the garden spot of
the world. Over those islands the wind never
blows too roughly or too coldly, the sun never
shines too brightly and there is no snow to blight
and kill the vegetation that warm rain and summer
sun have called forth. Over there the grass
is greener, the sky bluer and the scenery more
beautiful than it is in any other part of the world.
If you should take everything that you consider
beautiful, multiply it by one hundred and put
them in one small portion of the earth, you would
have some idea of what Hawaii is like.”</p>
<p>The boys were struck by the outburst.</p>
<p>“Hawaii is the doctor’s favorite hobby,”
Ralph said, in response to the look of astonishment<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span>
and wonder on the boys’ faces. “If he had
his way, he’d live here all the year round.”</p>
<p>“That I would,” said the doctor, with a sigh,
“but my profession claims me first, last and all
the time. However,” he added, with his cheerful
smile, “I want you boys to make the most of
the few days we are to spend here, to have the
time of your lives. The only thing I ask of you
is that you don’t run the ‘Gray Ghost’ over the
side of a precipice or seek to inquire too closely
into the mysteries of the firepit, Halemaumau.
I’ll have to leave you, as I have some important
matters to attend to before I can enjoy the beauties
of Hawaii. Coming, Bert? Yes, I shouldn’t
wonder if we would be getting some wireless
messages very soon.”</p>
<p>The three companions watched Bert and the
doctor until they disappeared down the companion-way
and then turned once more to the islands.</p>
<p>After a moment of silence Tom said, “Say, if
Hawaii is all the doctor says it is, Ralph, we
ought to have some fun. Imagine driving the
machine along a precipice and visiting fire-pits
with outlandish names. What was it he called
it?”</p>
<p>“Halemaumau,” Ralph answered. “It is a
jaw-breaker, isn’t it, but I’ve heard Dad talk so
much about Hawaiian wonders that I’ve got the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span>
name down pat. You see Halemaumau means
‘House of Everlasting Fire,’ and it’s the name of
the fire-pit of the crater, Kilauea. There, don’t
you think I’ve mastered the subject and learned
my lesson well?”</p>
<p>“You have, indeed, my son,” Dick said, assuming
his best grandfatherly air. “If you continue
on the road you have begun you will make a success
of your life.”</p>
<p>“Say, fellows,” Tom broke in. “Stop your
nonsense and look at what you’re coming to. I’m
beginning to think that Dr. Hamilton didn’t exaggerate,
after all. Just look at that line of beach
with the cliffs behind it, forming a dark background
for the white of the buildings. And what
are those funny, bobbing things in the water? I
suppose they must be boats of some sort, but they
don’t look like anything I ever saw.”</p>
<p>“I guess they must be the boats of the native
money divers.”</p>
<p>“Money divers!” Tom exclaimed. “Where
do they get the money?”</p>
<p>“We give it to them,” said Dick. “I remember
reading about how passengers throw their
perfectly good money into the water just for the
fun of seeing those little grafters pick it up. A
waste of good money I call it.”</p>
<p>“Gee, I’m going into the business,” Tom affirmed.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span>
“Just give me a diving costume and I
bet you couldn’t tell me from the natives.”</p>
<p>“You needn’t count on annexing any of my
hard-earned cash, because you won’t get it. I’d
be more likely to throw a dynamite bomb in just
as you were getting ready to dive,” Dick said.</p>
<p>“I know you would, you old skinflint. The
only thing is that you would be just as likely as
I to get blown up. I guess you left that out of
your calculations, didn’t you?”</p>
<p>“What’s all this about dynamite bombs and
getting blown up?” Bert asked, coming up behind
them. “It sounds rather bloodthirsty.”</p>
<p>“Oh, he’s just threatening my very valuable
life,” Tom answered, “but I forgive him, for
he’s not responsible for what he says. To change
the subject, what are you doing up here when you
ought to be taking down wireless messages?”</p>
<p>“Oh, I’m off duty for a few days, now. I’m
glad of it, for, although I like nothing better
than taking down messages and sending them out,
it’s good to have a few days to explore this country
that the doctor has recommended so highly.
It sure does look promising.”</p>
<p>By this time the <i>Fearless</i> had weighed anchor
and the boats were being let down to convey the
passengers to the shore. All around the ship
were the queer little craft of the natives, the occupants<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span>
on the alert to catch the first bit of money
thrown to them. They had not long to wait, for
soon small pieces of coin were being showered
down. As each piece fell into the water, the little
brown-skinned native boys would dive in after it
and catch it, with a deftness born of long experience,
before it reached the bottom. In spite of
the boys’ declared intentions not to waste their
“hard-earned and carefully-hoarded cash,” a few
pieces of that very same cash went to increase the
spoils of one especially active and dextrous young
native. No matter how hard they tried to be
prudent or how emphatically they declared that
“this would surely be the last bit of money that
that little rascal would get out of them,” another
coin would find its way into the eager hands of
the little dark-skinned tempter. There was a
very strong bond of fellowship between this small
native diving for money way off in the islands of
the Pacific and the strong, sturdy college boys
who had fought so gallantly on the diamond for
the glory of Alma Mater. It was the call of the
expert to the expert, the admiration of one who
has “done things” for the accomplishments of
another.</p>
<p>However, the boys were not very sorry when
they reached the shore where they were beyond
temptation. Tom voiced the general sentiment<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span>
when he said, “Gee, if we hadn’t touched land
just as we did, I’d have had to telegraph home
to Dad for more money. They nearly broke
me.”</p>
<p>While they were waiting for Ralph, who had
stayed behind to see that the “Gray Ghost” got
over safely on the raft rigged up for the purpose,
the comrades took a look around them. And
there was enough to occupy their attention for an
hour just in the country in the immediate neighborhood
of the harbor. All around them
swarmed the natives, big, powerful, good-natured
people, all with a smile of welcome on their dark
faces. Everywhere was bustle and life and activity.</p>
<p>“I always thought that Hawaii was a slow sort
of place,” Dick said, “but it seems that I was
mistaken. This crowd rivals the business crush
on Fifth Avenue.”</p>
<p>“It does that,” said Bert. “But just take a
glance at this scenery, my friends. Did you ever
see anything on Fifth Avenue that looked like
that?”</p>
<p>“Well, hardly. But it’s the town that takes
my eye. Look at those quaint houses and the
big white building—I suppose it must be a hotel—towering
over them. And isn’t that a picture,
that avenue with the double border of palm trees?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span>
We must explore that first thing when we get the
‘Gray Ghost.’ Say, I’m glad I came.”</p>
<p>“So am I,” said Tom. “If it hadn’t been for
you, Bert, we shouldn’t any of us be here. Prof.
Gilbert didn’t know what a public benefactor he
was when he nominated you for the telegraphy
job. Say, isn’t that the car coming over now?”
he asked, pointing to a great raft that was heading
slowly for the dock.</p>
<p>“It looks like it,” Bert replied. “Make believe
it won’t seem good to be in a car again. I’m
anxious to get my belongings up to one of the hotels,
too.”</p>
<p>“Yes, I’m glad we decided to stay in a hotel
for the few days we are going to spend here. It
will be good to be able to eat our breakfast on
shore for a little while instead of on the briny
deep,” said Tom, who had not been altogether
free from occasional pangs of sea-sickness during
the voyage.</p>
<p>By this time the raft had landed the car and
the other luggage. Ralph was beside his favorite,
looking it over from one end to the other to
see that everything was intact, while a crowd of
curious little urchins watched his every action. In
a moment our three fellows had joined him and
were busily engaged in trying to remedy an imaginary
fault. They finally gave this up as a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span>
hopeless task as the car was in absolutely perfect
condition.</p>
<p>“I guess there’s nothing very much the matter
with the old car, eh, fellows?” said Ralph with
the pride of possession in his voice. “I shouldn’t
wonder if she could show the natives something
of the art of racing and hill-climbing. I bet she
is just as anxious as we are to try her speed on
that palm avenue there.”</p>
<p>“Don’t let’s waste any time then,” Dick suggested.
“What’s the matter with piling our luggage
into the car and going right over to the hotel?
By the way,” he added, as a second thought,
“what hotel are we going to?”</p>
<p>“Why, Dad told me that if we wanted to get
off the ship at Hawaii that the best place to put
up at would be the Seaside House,” said Ralph.
“He thinks that we can have more fun at a small
place than we could at one of the swell hotels.”</p>
<p>“I agree with him there,” said Bert, “but do
you know the way?”</p>
<p>“You just watch me,” said Ralph. “If I don’t
get you to the Seaside in ten minutes I give you
leave to hand me whatever you think I deserve in
the way of punishment. Come on, jump in, and
the little ‘Gray Ghost’ will have you and your
baggage at your destination before you know it.”</p>
<p>So Tom and Dick jumped into the tonneau<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span>
with the luggage, while Bert took his seat beside
Ralph. Once more they were flying over the road
with the wind whistling in their ears to the tune
of the throbbing motor. Many nights they had
dreamed of it and many days they had talked of
it, but to really be there, to feel the mighty power
of that great man-made monster, to feel the exhilarated
blood come tingling into their faces with
the excitement of the race, ah, that was heaven
indeed.</p>
<p>But all delightful things must come to an end
sometime and so, in the very midst of their enjoyment
the speed of the great car slackened and
they drew up before a building that looked like
an overgrown cottage with a sign in front, announcing
to all whom it might concern that this
was the “Seaside House.” It all looked very
comfortable and homelike, and even as they
stopped the host advanced to give them welcome.</p>
<p>It took the boys a very short time to explain
that they had just come in on the <i>Fearless</i> and
only wanted accommodations for a very few days.
In less time than it takes to tell the machine was
taken around to the garage and the boys had been
shown up to two very comfortably furnished
rooms.</p>
<p>“Doctor Hamilton expects to stay here, too,”
Ralph volunteered when they had finished exploring<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span>
their small domain, “but he won’t be able to
get here until late this evening. I promised to
take the car around for him at the dock about
nine o’clock. I suppose all you fellows will go
with me, won’t you?”</p>
<p>“Surest thing you know,” Bert agreed. “I’m
glad that he’s going to be with us for he knows a
lot about the country and he’ll go with us on all
our expeditions. The Doctor’s a jolly good sort.”</p>
<p>“He sure is that,” said Tom, and so, in the
course of time the Doctor arrived and was given
the room next to the boys. Just before they went
to sleep that night Bert called into Ralph, “Say,
Ralph, what do you love best in the world?” and
the answer came in three words, “The Gray
Ghost.”</p>
<p>Next morning bright and early the boys, the
Doctor and the “Gray Ghost” started for a visit
to Halemaumau, the fire-pit of the crater, Kilauea.
The day was ideal for such a trip and the
party started off in high spirits. They rode for
miles through the most beautiful country they had
ever seen until, at last, they came to the foot of
the great crater. Only a very few minutes more
and they stood within a few yards of the edge of
that wonder of wonders, the fire-pit of Kilauea.
It is impossible to describe the grandeur of that
roaring, surging sea of fire, the tongues of flame<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span>
lapping one upon another like raging demons in
terrific conflict. It is the greatest wonder of Nature
ever given to man to witness.</p>
<p>For a few seconds the boys could only stand in
amazement that such a thing could be. “If anybody
had told me,” said Bert, almost whispering
in his excitement, “a few months ago that I
would be standing here at the edge of the largest
living crater in the world, I would have thought
that either I was crazy or that they were. I never
could forget that sight if I lived forever.”</p>
<p>“It sure is about the slickest little bit of Nature
that I ever came across,” Tom agreed. “If
all the scenery is like this we ought to spend four
years here instead of a measly four days. I’m
beginning to be as much interested in this place
as the Doctor is.”</p>
<p>“The more you see of it the more you will love
it,” the Doctor prophesied. “If you would like
to we can take a ride across the island to-morrow.
It will be about a day’s journey, but I can show
you a great many points of interest as we go
along. What do you say?”</p>
<p>The boys fell in with the plan very readily, and
so it was decided that the next morning they
would start early. With great reluctance and
many backward glances they finally tore themselves
away from Halemaumau and turned the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span>
“Gray Ghost” toward home. During the ride
they could talk of nothing else than the wonder
and the magnificent beauty of “The House of
Everlasting Fire.”</p>
<p>Mile upon mile they rode with the sun filtering
through the trees in little golden patches on the
road before them, with the caress of the soft
breeze upon their faces and the song of the birds
in their ears.</p>
<p>“I don’t wonder that you think Hawaii’s
about the nicest place on earth, Doctor,” Bert
said after a few minutes of silence. “I’m almost
beginning to agree with you.”</p>
<p>And again the Doctor answered, “The more
you see of it the more you will love it.”</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span></p>
<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI</a></h2>
<h3><span class="smcap">The “Gray Ghost”</span></h3>
<p class="cap">The next morning after an early breakfast
the “Gray Ghost” was brought around in
front of the “Seaside” and the boys began to
look her over to make sure that she was in condition
for the day’s trip. They found that everything
was all right, so they began loading her with
baskets of delicious eatables that the host had
prepared for them. In a very short time all was
ready and Tom, Dick and Ralph piled in the tonneau,
while the Doctor took his seat beside Bert,
who was to drive that day. There had been some
discussion that morning as to whether Bert or
Ralph were to run the machine. Bert claimed
that as it was Ralph’s car it was his right and prerogative
to drive. But Ralph wouldn’t listen to
such an argument for a minute. For wasn’t Bert
his guest and wasn’t he there to give his guest a
good time, especially as he, Ralph, had driven the
car the day before? So after a time it had been
settled and Bert reluctantly took the wheel.</p>
<p>But the reluctance didn’t last long, for, when he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span>
found himself guiding the great car over the road,
the old feeling of exultation took possession of
him and the old wild desire to put on full speed
came surging over him. But Bert was never one
to give way to impulse when caution told him it
would be unwise, so he held his desire and, incidentally,
his machine well in check.</p>
<p>“You said last night that you would tell us
about the hunt for sharks, Doctor Hamilton,”
Dick reminded him. “Won’t you tell us about
them, now?”</p>
<p>“Why, yes, if you would like to hear about it,”
the Doctor consented. “These seas, as you probably
know, are full of sharks, and therefore are
very dangerous. The natives of Hawaii are not
the people to be terrorized, however, by any animal
on land or sea. So, after careful consideration,
they decided that, as long as they couldn’t
hope to exterminate the pests, the only thing for
them to do was to learn how to defend themselves
against them. So, when a man wanted to
go out into the deep, shark-infested waters he
would take with him a handy little dagger. Then,
instead of swimming for home and safety at the
first sign of a shark, he would wait boldly for the
creature to come near enough for a hand-to-hand
(or, rather, a fin-to-hand) conflict.”</p>
<p>“Say, a man would have to have some nerve<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span>
to wait calmly while one of those cute, harmless
little animals came prancing up playfully to be
petted,” Tom broke in. “I’d rather be excused.”</p>
<p>“It does take an immense amount of courage
to brave a shark, but I shouldn’t wonder if there
were thousands of people in the world who are
at this moment making greater sacrifices, performing
deeds that call for more real fortitude
and courage than these shark hunters ever dreamed
of. Only, you see we don’t know of those cases.
However, that’s neither here nor there. Well,
to get back to my story, when the shark nears the
man he turns on his back to grab him. Then
comes the crucial moment. Before the shark has
a chance to accomplish his purpose, the native
deftly buries the dagger up to the hilt in the
shark’s throat.”</p>
<p>“Yes, but suppose the shark nabbed the hunter
before he had a chance to use his weapon,” Ralph
suggested.</p>
<p>“It is very probable in that case that the hunter
would hunt no more sharks,” the Doctor laughed.
“However, that very rarely happens these days,
for the Hawaiians are trained to hunt as soon as
they leave the cradle, and are experts at the age
of nine or ten.”</p>
<p>“I wouldn’t mind trying it myself,” Bert declared,
for, to him danger and excitement were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span>
the very breath of life, “only I’d like to practice
up for a few years before I hung out my sign.”</p>
<p>“Well, they went on killing the sharks by
means of a dagger for some time,” the Doctor
went on, “but one day some bright young native
discovered what seemed to him to be a much more
interesting and, at the same time, just as sure a
way of killing the shark. So one day he called
all his relatives and friends together and told
them to watch his new method. They all noticed
that, instead of the usual dagger, this youth carried
in his hand a pointed stick. ‘What good
will a sharp stick do?’ they all asked one another.
‘He surely cannot mean to kill the shark
with such a weapon,’ and they tried to persuade
him not to try anything so foolish. However, he
was not to be persuaded, so he started out with
his stick to fight the shark. He had not gone very
far before his eagerly watching friends on the
shore saw a fin rise above the water and knew
that the shark was near. With breathless interest
they watched the coming conflict. Nearer and
nearer came the shark until it was only a very few
yards from the daring hunter. Then in a flash
it was on its back and bearing down on its prey.
With the speed of lightning our hero reached
down the shark’s throat and wedged the pointed
stick right across it so that the shark couldn’t close<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span>
his wicked, gaping mouth. Of course, not being
able to shut his mouth he drowned there in his
native element. There is an instance of the irony
of fate, isn’t it?”</p>
<p>“It surely is,” Dick answered. “But, Doctor,
is that really so or is it only a story?”</p>
<p>“It’s the truth. The shark hunters use both
methods, the dagger and the sharp stick, but the
stick is the favorite.”</p>
<p>So the morning was passed in interesting tale
and pleasant conversation, and they were all
amazed when the Doctor informed them that it
was half-past twelve. Soon afterward they came
to a cozy little inn with the sign “Welcome” over
the door painted in great gold letters on a black
background. At this hospitable place they stopped
for lunch.</p>
<p>When this most important function of the day
was satisfactorily accomplished, they went for a
stroll on the beach, as they had about half an
hour to look around them before it was necessary
to start on their way once more.</p>
<p>This part of the beach was perfectly protected
from the unwelcome visits of the sharks by the
large coral reefs, and the boys were surprised to
see the number of people that were enjoying their
afternoon dip.</p>
<p>“Look at those fellows over there riding in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span>
on the breakers,” Tom cried, pointing to a group
of boys that looked as if they might be Americans.
“Will you please tell me what they think
they have on their feet?”</p>
<p>“They look like snow shoes,” Bert said, “but
I never knew that you could use skees on the
water.”</p>
<p>“They are really nothing more nor less than
snow shoes, but you see over here they have no
snow to use them on, so they make them do for
the water,” said the Doctor.</p>
<p>“It’s a great stunt,” said Dick. “I wish we
had brought our bathing suits along, we could
take a try at it ourselves.”</p>
<p>“If bathing suits are all you want,” Ralph
broke in, “I can soon get you them. This morning
I thought we might want them, so, at the last
minute, I ran back to get mine. While I was
there I discovered your suits all tied together with
a strap, so I brought them along, too. They are
under the seat in the tonneau.”</p>
<p>“Bully for you, old fellow,” said Dick. “You
have a head on your shoulders, which is more than
I can say for myself.”</p>
<p>“Yes, that’s fine. Now we can try our skill at
skeeing on the water. But, by the way, where
will we get the skees?”</p>
<p>“They are not really skees; they’re only pieces<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span>
of wood pointed at one end,” the Doctor explained,
“and I think you will be able to get all
you want up at the inn.”</p>
<p>“But you will come with us, too, won’t you?”
Bert asked. “It won’t be half as much fun if you
don’t.”</p>
<p>“No, I don’t think that I’ll go in with you to-day.
I brought a little work along, and I thought
that if I got a minute I would try to do some of
it. You will only have a little while to stay anyway,
so go ahead and enjoy yourselves while you
may. I’ll tell you when time is up. I’ll go with
you as far as the house. You needn’t be afraid
that I’ll forget.”</p>
<p>So, in a few minutes the boys were on the beach
once more, ready to try their luck on the skees.
They watched the group of fellows that had at
first caught their attention until they thought that
they knew pretty well what to do. When they
fancied they could safely venture they waded out
until the water was about to their waists. Then,
resting the long board on the water, they tried
their best to mount it, as they had seen the other
fellows do. But they would just get the board
placed nicely with its point toward the shore,
when a wave would come along and carry it out
from under their feet.</p>
<p>They had very nearly given it up in despair<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span>
when one of the fellows from the other group
came over and spoke to them.</p>
<p>“Is this your first try at the surf boards?” he
asked, and they knew from the very tone of his
voice that he was what they had thought him, an
American. “We saw you were having trouble,
and we thought you wouldn’t mind if we gave you
a few pointers. It’s hard to do at first, but when
you once catch on it’s a cinch.”</p>
<p>“We would be very much obliged if you would
show us how to manage them,” Bert replied. “I
thought that I had tried pretty nearly every kind
of water trick, but this is a new one on me.”</p>
<p>“Yes, we can’t seem to get the hang of it,”
Tom added. “How do you stay on the thing
when you once get there?”</p>
<p>So our boys and the others soon became very
well acquainted, and it wasn’t very long before
they were doing as well as the strangers. All too
soon they saw the Doctor coming down the beach
toward them, and they knew that the time was
up. They bade good-bye to their new found
friends and hurried up to the inn to get ready for
the rest of the journey. For the whole afternoon
they rode through scenes of the most striking
beauty and grandeur.</p>
<p>They went through the historic valley of Nuuanu,
where the great battle was waged by Kamehameha<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span>
the Great, sometimes called the Napoleon
of the Pacific. They followed the scene of that
terrible struggle until they came to the precipice
over which the Oahu army of more than three
thousand men had been forced to a swift death
on the rocks below.</p>
<p>When they reached the hotel at which they had
expected to stay for the night, they found a telegram
waiting for them. Doctor Hamilton opened
it and read, “Come at once. Ship sails to-morrow
morning, nine o’clock.”</p>
<p>“That means,” said the Doctor, “that we will
have to start for the <i>Fearless</i> as soon as we can
get a bite to eat.”</p>
<p>So start they did, and it took hard riding nearly
the whole night to get them to the ship in time.
After they had settled with the landlord of the
Seaside House and had hustled their belongings
into the car, they started for the dock and found
that they were just in the nick of time.</p>
<p>As Bert turned from his companions toward
the operating room to take down any last messages
that Hawaii might want to send, he said
with a sigh, “I’m sorry that we had to leave
sooner than we expected, but as long as we had
to—say, fellows, wasn’t that ride great?”</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span></p>
<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER VII</a></h2>
<h3><span class="smcap">A Swim for Life</span></h3>
<p class="cap">It was a hot day, even for the tropics, and
everybody felt the heat intensely. Awnings
had been stretched over the deck, and under their
inviting shade the passengers tried to find relief
from the burning sun, but with little success. A
slight accident to the machinery had caused the
ship to heave to, so that they were deprived of
the artificial breeze caused by the vessel’s motion.
The oppressive heat rivaled anything the boys
had ever felt, and for once even their effervescent
spirits flagged. They lolled about the deck
in listless attitudes, and were even too hot to cut
up the usual “monkeyshines” that gave the passengers
many a hearty laugh. Dick looked longingly
at the green, cool-appearing water, that
heaved slowly and rhythmically, like some vast
monster asleep.</p>
<p>“Make out it wouldn’t feel good to dive in
there, and have a good, long swim,” he exclaimed,
in a wistful voice. “Just think of wallowing
around in that cool ocean, and feeling as though<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span>
you weren’t about to melt and become a grease
spot at any moment. Gee, I’d give anything I
own to be able to jump in right now.”</p>
<p>“Go ahead,” grinned Bert, “only don’t be surprised
if we fish you out minus a leg or two.
Those two sharks that have been following the
ship for the last week would welcome you as a
very agreeable addition to their bill of fare.”</p>
<p>“Yes,” chimed in Ralph, “and that’s not the
only thing, either. I’ve felt sorry for those poor
old sharks for quite a while. Here they follow
our ship around for a week, hoping that somebody
will fall overboard and furnish them a
square meal, and then everybody disappoints
them. I call it pretty mean conduct.”</p>
<p>“That’s my idea exactly,” agreed Bert, “and
I think it would only be doing the gentlemanly
thing for Dick to volunteer. You won’t disappoint
your friends on a little point like that, will
you, Dick?”</p>
<p>“No, certainly not,” responded Dick, scornfully.
“Just ring the dinner bell, so that the
sharks will be sure not to miss me, and I’ll jump
in any time you say. Nothing I can think of would
give me greater pleasure.”</p>
<p>“Well, on second thought,” laughed Bert, “I
think we’d better save you a little while, and fatten
you up. I’m afraid you haven’t got fat<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span>
enough on you at present to give entire satisfaction.
We might as well do this thing up right,
you know.”</p>
<p>“O, sure, anything to oblige,” grunted Dick.
“Just dispose of me any way you think best. Naturally,
the subject has little interest for me.”</p>
<p>“Aw, you’re selfish, Dick, that’s what’s the
matter with you,” said Ralph. “I’d be willing to
bet any money that you’re thinking more of yourself
than you are of those two poor, hungry fish.
Gee, I’m glad I’m not like that.”</p>
<p>“All right, then,” responded Dick, quickly,
“as long as you feel that way, and I don’t, why
don’t you serve yourself up to the suffering sharks?
Besides, you’re fatter than I am.”</p>
<p>Apparently Ralph could think of no satisfactory
answer to this profound remark and so
changed the subject.</p>
<p>“Well,” he exclaimed, “all this doesn’t get us
any nearer to a good swim. I wish this were one
of the steamships I was on not long since.”</p>
<p>“Why, how was that?” inquired Bert.</p>
<p>“Well, on that ship they had a regular swimming
tank on board. Of course, it wasn’t a very
big one, but it was plenty large enough to give a
person a good swim. Gee, I used to just about
live in that tank on a day like this.”</p>
<p>“I suppose that was what you might call a tank<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span>
steamer, wasn’t it?” said Bert, and his remark
raised a general laugh.</p>
<p>But now an elderly man among the passengers,
who up to now had listened to the boys’ conversation
with a smile on his face, but had not spoken,
said, “Why don’t you ask the captain to rig up
the swimming nets? I’m sure he would be willing
to do it for you, if you asked him in the right
way.”</p>
<p>“Swimming nets!” exclaimed Dick, “what’s a
swimming net?”</p>
<p>“Why, it’s simply a sort of a cage that they
rig up alongside the ship, and anybody that wants
to can swim to their heart’s content inside it. The
net keeps sharks out, and makes it safe.”</p>
<p>“Say, that would certainly be great,” exclaimed
Ralph. “Come along, fellows, and we’ll see if
we can’t persuade the captain to fix us up. The
idea of a good swim certainly hits me where I
live.”</p>
<p>The rest were nothing loath, and they jumped
to their feet and rushed off in search of Captain
Manning. He was soon found, and listened smilingly
to Ralph, who acted as spokesman for the
others.</p>
<p>“I guess we can arrange that, all right,” he
said, after Ralph had finished. “It will be at
least two hours before our repairs are finished.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span>
Between you and me, I’d like to jump in myself,”
he added, regretfully.</p>
<p>He gave orders accordingly, and the crew soon
had the netting rigged. Before they had finished,
news of what was going on had flown through the
ship. All who felt so disposed or had bathing
paraphernalia with them, appeared on deck attired
for a dip. Needless to say, Bert, Dick, and
Ralph were among the first to put in an appearance,
and great was their impatience while the
crew were putting the finishing touches to the
“cage.” While they were waiting, Ralph said,
“Look at that, fellows. Those two sharks that
we were talking about a little while ago have disappeared.
I guess they must have overheard our
conversation, and given us up for a bad job.”</p>
<p>“They’re certainly not in sight, at any rate,”
said Dick. “However, I think I shall manage to
control my grief at their desertion.”</p>
<p>“It always gave me a creepy feeling,” said the
passenger who had first suggested the swimming
nets, “they hung on so persistently, just as though
they felt sure that their patience would be rewarded
some time. It seemed uncanny, somehow.”</p>
<p>“It certainly did,” agreed another. “I guess
they’re gone for good, this time, though.”</p>
<p>This seemed to be the general opinion among<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span>
the crew, also, and the boys felt relieved in spite
of themselves, for swimming in close proximity
to a couple of hungry sharks, even when separated
from them by a net, is not a particularly cheerful
experience.</p>
<p>Soon everything was ready, and the swimmers
descended the steps let down alongside the ship,
and plunged into the water. It was very warm,
but a good deal cooler than the air, and you may
be sure it felt good to the overheated passengers.
Bert and Ralph were expert swimmers, and dove
and swam in a manner to bring applause from the
passengers up above. Dick was not such a very
good swimmer, having had little experience in the
water. He enjoyed the dip none the less on this
account, however, and if he could not swim as
well as the others, at least made quite as much
noise as they.</p>
<p>After half an hour or so of this the boys ascended
to the deck to rest a little before continuing
their aquatic exercises.</p>
<p>“My, but that felt good, and no mistake,” said
Bert.</p>
<p>“It sure did,” agreed Ralph. “The only objection
I can find is that you can’t swim far enough
in any one direction. I like to have enough space
to let me work up a little speed. I’ve half a mind
to take a chance and dive off here outside the net.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span>
There’s no sign of those pesky sharks around
now. I’m going to take a chance, anyhow,” and
before anybody had a chance to stop him he had
made a pretty dive over the side. He struck the
water with scarcely a splash, and in a few seconds
rose to the surface and shook the water out of
his eyes. Bert yelled at him to come back on
board, but he only shook his head and laughed.</p>
<p>Then he struck out away from the ship with
bold, rapid strokes, and soon had placed a considerable
distance between himself and the vessel.
Bert and the others watched his progress with
anxious eyes.</p>
<p>“The young fool,” growled one of the passengers,
“hasn’t he got any more sense than to do a
thing like that? Those sharks are likely to show
up any minute. They don’t usually give up so
quickly, once they’ve started to follow a ship.”</p>
<p>It seemed, however, as though Ralph would
experience no bad results from his rash act. He
had swum several hundred yards from the vessel,
and had turned to come back, when a cry went up
from one of the women passengers.</p>
<p>“Look! Look!” she screamed, and pointed
wildly with her parasol. All eyes followed its direction,
and more than one man turned white as
he looked. For there, not more than five hundred
feet from the swimmer, a black fin was cutting<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span>
the water like a knife-blade. It was not
headed directly for Ralph, however, but was going
first in one direction, then in another, showing
that the shark had not yet definitely located
his prey.</p>
<p>A few seconds later a second fin appeared, and
there was little doubt in the minds of all that
these were the two sharks that had followed the
ship for the last few days.</p>
<p>In the meantime, Ralph had drawn nearer the
ship, but was swimming in a leisurely fashion,
and evidently had no inkling of the deadly peril
that threatened him. Bert was about to yell to
him and point out his danger, when he thought
better of it.</p>
<p>“If he knew those two sharks were on his
trail,” he said in a strained voice to Tom, “he
might get frightened and be unable to swim at all.
I think we had better leave him alone and hope
that he gets to the ship before the sharks locate
him.”</p>
<p>“Let’s go after him in a boat,” suggested one
of the sailors, excitedly, and this was no sooner
said than done. Without even waiting for orders
from the captain, several of the crew started to
launch a boat, but it became evident that this
could be of no avail. For at that moment the
two searching fins suddenly stopped dead for a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span>
second, and then started straight for the unconscious
swimmer.</p>
<p>A cry went up from the passengers, which
reached Ralph’s ears. He glanced behind him,
and for a second seemed paralyzed at what he
saw. Bert yelled wildly. “Swim for your life,
Ralph,” he shrieked. “Here,” turning to the sailors,
“get a long rope, and stand by. We’ll need
it when he gets near the ship.”</p>
<p>Now Ralph had recovered from his panic to
some extent, and struck out as he had never done
before. At every stroke he fairly leaped through
the water, but the two black fins overhauled him
with lightning-like rapidity. Closer and closer
they came, and still the swimmer was a good forty
or fifty yards from the ship. Now he started a
fast crawl stroke, and it was a lucky thing for him
that day that he was an expert swimmer.</p>
<p>He was soon almost under the ship’s side, and
one of the sailors threw the rope previously secured
in his direction. Ralph grasped it with a
despairing grip, but now the two fins were terribly
close, and approaching at express train speed. A
dozen willing hands grasped the rope, and just
as the two man-eaters were within ten feet of him
the exhausted swimmer was swung bodily out of
the water. There was a swish alongside, two
great white streaks flashed by, and the passengers<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span>
caught a glimpse of two horrible, saw-like
rows of gleaming teeth. Then Ralph was drawn
up on a level with the rail, and strong hands
pulled him safely inboard.</p>
<p>No sooner did he realize that he was safe,
than he collapsed, and it was some time before he
recovered from the strain. When he was once
more himself, he grinned weakly at Bert. “Next
time I’ll follow your advice,” he said.</p>
<p>“Oh, well, ‘all’s well that ends well,’” quoted
Bert. “Just the same, it was more than you deserved
to have us work ourselves to death a hot
day like this trying to keep you from doing the
Jonah act. It would have served you right if
we had let the shark take a bite or two.”</p>
<p>“Sorry to have troubled you, I’m sure,” retorted
Ralph. “But say, fellows, just as soon as
I can get enough nerve back to think, I’m going
to dope out some way of getting even with those
man-eaters. I’ll be hanged if I’m going to let
even a shark think he can try to make hash of me
and get away with it. In the meantime, you and
Tom might set your giant intellects to work and
see if you can think of a plan.”</p>
<p>A sailor had overheard this, and now he
touched his cap, and said:</p>
<p>“Excuse me for buttin’ in, but I think me and
my mates here can fix up those sharks for you,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span>
if the captain’s willin’. On a bark I sailed in
once we caught a shark that had been annoyin’ us
like these has, just like you’d catch a fish. We
baited a big hook, and pulled him in with the donkey
engine. If the captain ain’t got no objections,
I don’t see why we couldn’s sarve these lubbers
the same trick.”</p>
<p>This idea met with instant approval, and Captain
Manning was soon besieged by a fire of entreaty.
At first he seemed inclined to say no, but
when he found that the majority of the passengers
were in favor of capturing the sharks, he
gave a reluctant consent.</p>
<p>The sailors grinned in happy anticipation of a
good time, and set about their preparations with
a will, while an interested group that surrounded
them watched the development of their scheme
with intense interest.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span></p>
<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER VIII</a></h2>
<h3><span class="smcap">The Captured Shark</span></h3>
<p class="cap">The species of shark that inhabits tropical
waters is very voracious, and will eat almost
anything that has the smell or taste of food
about it. Therefore, the sailors were troubled
by no fears that the bait they were preparing
would not prove tempting enough.</p>
<p>The cook had provided them with a huge slab
of salt pork, and then the problem arose as to
what they could use as a hook. Finally, however,
one of the sailors unearthed a large iron hook,
such as is used on cranes and other hoisting machinery.
The point of this was filed down until it
was sharp as a needle, and the big piece of meat
was impaled on it.</p>
<p>“That ought to hook one of them blarsted
man-hunters,” remarked one grizzled old sea
dog, who was known to his companions as “Sam,”
and apparently had no other name. “If that hook
once gets caught in his gizzard, we’ll have him on
board unless the rope breaks, won’t we mates?”</p>
<p>“Aye, aye. That we will,” came in a gruff<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span>
chorus from the bronzed and hardy crew, and
matters began to look dark for the unconscious
sharks.</p>
<p>When the meat had been securely tied to the
hook, the big crane used to store the cargo in the
hold was brought into use, and the hook made
fast to the end of the strong wire cable.</p>
<p>“Gee,” said Tom, who had been regarding
these preparations with a good deal of interest,
as indeed had everybody on deck, “I begin to see
the finish of one of those beasts, anyway. I can
see where we have shark meat hash for the rest
of this voyage, if the cook ever gets hold of him.”</p>
<p>“Oh, they’re not such bad eating, at that,” said
Ralph. “Why, when once in a while one becomes
stranded on the beach and the natives get
hold of him, they have a regular feast day. Everybody
for miles around is notified, and they troop
to the scene of festivities by the dozen. Then
they build fires, cut up the shark, and make a bluff
at cooking the meat before they start to eat it.
But you can hardly call it eating. They fairly
gorge it, and sometimes eat steadily a whole day,
or at any rate until the shark is all gone but his
bones. Then they go to bed and sleep off the results
of their feed. They don’t need anything else
to eat for some days.”</p>
<p>“Heavens, I shouldn’t think they would, after<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span>
that,” laughed Bert. “I think if I ate a whole
day without stopping it would end my worldly career
at once. Subsequent events wouldn’t have
much interest for me.”</p>
<p>“Oh, well,” said Dick, in a whimsical tone, “I
suppose they think if they did die, they would at
least have died happy.”</p>
<p>“And full,” supplemented Bert.</p>
<p>“Oh, that’s the same thing with them,” laughed
Ralph. “That’s their idea of paradise, I guess.
They’re always happy when they have enough to
eat, anyway.”</p>
<p>“Well, that’s the way with all of us, isn’t it?”
asked Dick. “You’re never very happy when
you’re hungry, I know that.”</p>
<p>“But there’s a shark not very far from here
that’s not going to be very happy when he’s eaten
a square meal that we’re going to provide him,”
laughed Bert, and the others agreed with him.</p>
<p>By this time everything was ready for the
catching of at least one of the sharks, and steam
was turned into the engine operating the crane.
The machine proved to be in first-class condition,
and so the baited hook was carried to the side and
slowly eased into the water. An empty cask had
previously been tied to it, however, to act as a
float, and all eyes were fastened eagerly on this.
It drifted slowly away from the ship’s side, as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span>
the cable was paid out, and was checked when it
had reached a distance of perhaps a hundred and
fifty feet from the vessel.</p>
<p>The sailors had armed themselves with axes
and clubs, and waited expectantly for the disturbance
around the cask that would show when the
monster had been hooked.</p>
<p>For some time, however, the cask floated serenely,
without even a ripple disturbing it. Many
were the disappointed grumblings heard among
passengers and crew, but the confidence of old
Sam was not shaken.</p>
<p>“Give him time, give him time!” he exclaimed.
“You don’t expect him to come up and swally the
bait right on scratch, like as though he was paid
to do it, do ye? Have a little patience about ye,
why don’t ye? Bein’ disappointed in takin’ a nip
out of the lad, there, them sharks will hang
around, hoping for another chanst, never fear.
Time ain’t money with them fellers.”</p>
<p>The words were scarcely out of his mouth
when the cask disappeared in a whirl of foam,
and a cheer arose from the spectators. The steel
cable whipped up out of the water, and sprang
taut as a fiddle string. The big crane groaned as
the terrific strain came upon it.</p>
<p>“Say, but that must be a big fellow,” exclaimed
Bert, in an excited voice. “Just look at that cable,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span>
will you. It takes some pull to straighten it
out like that."</p>
<p>But now the shark, seeming to realize that he
could not get away by pulling in one direction,
suddenly ceased his efforts, and the cable slackened.
Captain Manning gave the signal to the
engineer to start winding in the cable, but hardly
had the drum of the crane started to revolve,
when the shark made a great circular sweep in a
line almost parallel with the ship. The cable
sang as it whipped through the water in a great
arc, and the whole ship vibrated to the terrific
strain.</p>
<p>But the great fish was powerless against the
invincible strength of steam, and was slowly
drawn to the ship as revolution after revolution
of the inexorable engine drew in the cable. Leaning
breathlessly over the side, the passengers and
crew could gradually make out the shape of the
struggling, lashing monster as he was drawn up
to the ship’s side. He made short dashes this
way and that in a desperate effort to break away,
but all to no purpose. When he was right under
the ship’s side, but still in the water, the captain
ordered the engine stopped, and requested the
passengers to retire to a safe distance. Bert,
Dick, and Ralph pleaded hard to be allowed to
take a hand in dispatching the monster, but Captain
Manning was inexorable, and they were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span>
forced to withdraw from the scene of the coming
struggle.</p>
<p>The crew grasped their weapons firmly, and as
one put it, “cleared for action.”</p>
<p>Then the signal was given to resume hoisting
the big fish aboard, and once more the crane
started winding up the cable. Slowly, writhing
and twisting, the shark was hauled up the side.
He dealt the ship great blows with his tail, any
one of which would have been sufficient to kill a
man. His smooth, wet body gleamed in the
sun’s rays, and his wicked jaws snapped viciously,
reminding the spectators of the teeth of some
great trap. All his struggles were in vain, however,
and finally, with one great “flop” he landed
on the deck.</p>
<p>He lashed out viciously with his powerful tail,
and it would have been an ill day for any member
of the crew that inadvertently got in its path.
Needless to say, they were very careful to avoid
this, and dodged quickly in and out, dealing the
monster heavy blows whenever the opportunity
offered. Slowly his struggles grew less strong,
and at last he lay quite still, with only an occasional
quiver of his great carcass. Then old Sam
stepped quickly in, and delivered the “coup de
grace” in the form of a stunning blow at the base
of the shark’s skull.</p>
<p>This was the finishing blow, and soon the passengers<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span>
were allowed to gather around and inspect
the dead monster. A tape-measure was
produced, and it was found that the shark was
exactly twelve feet and seven inches long.</p>
<p>“Why,” remarked Dick, “you’d have been
nothing but an appetizer to this fellow, if he had
caught you, Ralph. He sure is some shark.”</p>
<p>“Well, I won’t contradict you,” said Ralph,
“but I don’t think this shark was the same one
that chased me. Why, it seems to me that that
fellow was nothing but teeth. That’s all I remember
noticing, at any rate.”</p>
<p>“Yes, but this rascal seems to have quite a
dental outfit,” said Dick. “Just think what it
must be to a shark if he starts to get a toothache
in several teeth at once. It must be awful.”</p>
<p>“I’m certainly glad our teeth aren’t quite as
numerous,” laughed Bert. “Just think of having
to have a set of false teeth made. A person would
have to work about all his lifetime to pay for a set
like that.”</p>
<p>“It would be fine for the dentists, though,” remarked
Ralph, but then he added, “I wonder
what they’re going to do with this fellow, now
that they’ve caught him.”</p>
<p>“Throw him overboard, I suppose,” said Bert.
“I don’t think he’s of much use to us, seeing that
we’re not like the savages Ralph was telling us
about.”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span></p>
<p>And that is just about what they did do. First,
however, the sailors secured a number of the
shark’s teeth, and these were distributed among
the passengers as souvenirs. Then the great carcass
was hoisted up until it dangled over the water,
and the hook was cut out. The dead monster
struck the water with a splash, and slowly sank
from view.</p>
<p>“Well, Ralph, now you’ve had your revenge,
anyway,” said Bert. “I don’t think there’s much
doubt that that was one of the pair that came so
near to ending your promising career. He looked
to be about the same size as the one that almost
had you when we hauled you out.”</p>
<p>“Oh, I guess it’s the same one, all right,”
agreed Ralph, “and I owe everyone a vote of
thanks, I guess. I hope I never come quite so
near a violent death again. It was surely a case
of nip and tuck.”</p>
<p>The crew now set to work to clear up the mess
that had been made on the deck, and soon all mementoes
of the bloody struggle were removed.
Shortly afterward the chief engineer reported
that the break in the machinery had been repaired,
and it was not very long before the ship renewed
its interrupted voyage.</p>
<p>At the dinner table that night little else was
spoken of, and Ralph was congratulated many
times on his lucky escape.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span></p>
<p>And one of the passengers voiced the general
sentiment, when he said with a smile that “he
was satisfied if the ship broke down often, provided
they always had as exciting an experience
as they had had to-day.”</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span></p>
<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER IX</a></h2>
<h3><span class="smcap">In the Heart of the Typhoon</span></h3>
<p class="cap">Over the quiet ocean so calm that, except for
an occasional swelling foam-tipped wave it
seemed like a sea of glass, the noon-day sun
poured its golden light. It was a perfect day at
sea, and so thought the passengers on board the
swift ocean greyhound that plowed its way
through the quiet waters of the Pacific.</p>
<p>A stately ship was she, a palace upon the waves.
No deprivation here of any comfort or luxury
that could be found on land. Her shining brass
work gleamed in the sunshine like molten gold.
The delicate colors in her paneling blended with
the tints of the soft rugs on her polished floors.
On deck, in the saloons, and staterooms, all was
luxury. Gay groups of passengers, richly dressed,
paraded her decks or lay at ease in their steamer
chairs, or upon the softly-upholstered couches and
divans of her gorgeous saloons. Japanese servants
glided noiselessly to and fro, ministering to
the slightest wish of these favored children of
fortune. Everywhere were signs of wealth and
ease and careless gaiety. Sounds of music and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span>
merry laughter floated over the quiet waters.
Pain, fear, suffering, disaster, danger, death,—what
had such words as these to do with this
merry company? If anyone had mentioned the
possibility of peril, of calamity, the idea would
have been scouted. Why, this great ship was as
safe as any building on land. Was it not fitted
with water-tight compartments? Even such an
unlikely thing as a collision could bring no fatal
catastrophe.</p>
<p>That this feeling of absolute security is felt by
all can be very plainly seen. Go to the perfectly
appointed smoking-room and scan the faces of
the gentlemen, quietly smoking and reading, or
talking in friendly fashion together, or enjoying
a game of cards. Every face is serene.</p>
<p>Pass on into the music-room. A waltz is being
played by the piano and violin, and gay couples
of young people are enjoying the dance to the utmost.
Groups of interested older people look on
with smiles. No anxiety here. Nothing but
happy, care-free faces.</p>
<p>But come into the captain’s private cabin where
he is standing, listening earnestly to one of his
officers. Perfect appointments here also, but evidently
they do not appeal to these men at this moment.
No smiles of gaiety here. The captain’s
face pales as he listens to his officer’s words.</p>
<p>“The barometer has fallen several inches in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span>
the last hour and a half,” was the announcement.
Not enough in this, one may think, to cause anxiety.
But the captain knew and realized, as few
on board beside himself could, that the ship was
nearing the coast of Japan, the latitude most frequently
visited by the dreaded typhoon, and also
that this mid-summer season was the most dangerous
time of the year.</p>
<p>Among the first signs of danger from one of
these terrible visitors is an unusually rapid fall of
the barometer. No wonder that, with the responsibility
of the lives and safety of hundreds of people
resting upon him, his face should blanch with
apprehension.</p>
<p>Verifying his officer’s statement by a quick look
at the barometer, he went hastily on deck. Here
his quick eye noticed the change in weather conditions;
not very great as yet, only a slight cloudiness
which dimmed the brightness of the sun. Not
enough to trouble the passengers who, if they noticed
it at all, were only conscious of an added
sense of comfort in the softening of the almost too
brilliant sunshine, but enough to deepen the pallor
of the captain’s face and quicken his pulse with
the realization of a great, impending danger.
Even as he looked the heavens began still more to
darken, the clouds increased in size and blackness
and began to move wildly across the sky. The
wind freshened and the quiet sea broke into billows<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span>
which grew larger and more angry-looking
each passing moment.</p>
<p>Taking his stand on the bridge, the captain
summoned all his officers to him and gave quick,
decisive orders. With the rapidity of lightning
his orders are executed and soon everything is
made snug. Every possible measure is taken to
safeguard the ship.</p>
<p>But, now it was evident to all that more than
an ordinary storm threatened them. In an almost
incredibly short time the whole aspect of sky
and sea had changed. The surface of the ocean
was lashed into mountainous waves which raced
before the terrible wind. The heavens darkened
until an almost midnight blackness settled down
over the appalled voyagers.</p>
<p>Vanished are the sounds of music and laughter.
Gone the happy, care-free look from the faces.
Filled with terror, they awaited they knew not
what. The wind increased, and now the heavens
opened and the rain came in such a torrential
downpour that it seemed almost as if the great,
staunch ship would be beaten beneath the waves.</p>
<p>With a feeling of agonized despair, the captain
realized that that which he so feared had come
upon the vessel, and that she was in the grasp of
the dreaded typhoon. The darkness thickened,
the wind increased, and suddenly they felt themselves
caught in a great wave which tossed the
ship about like a child’s toy. Back and forth<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span>
twisted the great ship, completely at the mercy of
this remorseless wind and sea.</p>
<p>Thunderous crashing was heard as the upper
works of the ship were torn away by the gigantic
waves that washed over her. The passengers
were panic-stricken and rushed wildly about, seeking
those who were dear to them, their cries and
groans drowned in the roaring of tumultuous
seas. The captain, calm and self-controlled in
the midst of this terrible scene, went about among
them, restraining, soothing, speaking words of encouragement
and hope, but in his heart he had no
hope. A fireman rushed up with the report that
the engine-rooms were flooded and the fires out;
and then, with blows that made the great ship
tremble, part of timbers were torn away by the
great seas which made no more of iron girders or
sheets of riveted steel than if they were strips of
cardboard. The sea rushed in from more than
one jagged opening in her side.</p>
<p>Now at last, the captain realized that his splendid
ship was doomed. The great vessel was
slowly sinking. One hour, a little more, a little
less, would see the end. And, to make their doom
more certain, he could not launch a single life-boat
for they had all been shattered and washed
away by the sea. There is but one hope left, and
quickly ascertaining that the wireless is still O. K.,
the captain orders the call for help. For who can
tell at what moment the apparatus might be disabled?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span>
Eagerly the operator bends above his
key and forth across the angry waves, defying the
forces of wind and wave and torrent that have
sought to cut them off from all succor, goes that
pitiful cry for help.</p>
<p>With every nerve strained to the utmost tension
he awaits the response that will assure him
that his call is heard and that help is coming; but,
before his ear can catch the welcome signal a flash,
a whirring and snapping, tells him that the apparatus
has gone dead! They must wait for the
weary danger-fraught moments to bring them
the knowledge. Thank God the cry for help was
sent in time. There is a chance of its reaching
some ship near enough to rescue them; but near
indeed that ship must be or she will bring help too
late.</p>
<hr class="tb" />
<p>Twenty miles away the good ship <i>Fearless</i>
plows through mountainous billows that, breaking,
drench her decks with spray.</p>
<p>In his wireless room Bert is sitting with his receiver
at his ear on the alert for any message.
His three chums are with him as usual, Tom and
Ralph sitting in a favorite attitude with arms
across the back of a chair in front of them, while
Dick walked excitedly up and down the room.
Quite a difficult task he found that for the ship
was rolling considerably. As he walked he talked.</p>
<p>“Well, fellows,” he was saying, “I have always<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span>
wanted to see a genuine storm at sea, and
to-day I think I’ve seen it.”</p>
<p>“It seems to me that you’ve seen a great deal
more storm to-day than you longed for or ever
care to see again,” Tom commented.</p>
<p>“You’re just right there,” Dick agreed. “It
would be all right if you could watch the storm
without sharing the danger. There was one time
this afternoon when I thought it was certainly all
over with us.”</p>
<p>“It sure did look that way, and I guess Captain
Manning thought so, too,” Tom said.</p>
<p>“It was a lucky thing for the <i>Fearless</i>,” Ralph
broke in, “that the storm didn’t last long. If it
had kept on much longer we shouldn’t be here
talking about it now.”</p>
<p>“But wasn’t Captain Manning fine through it
all?” said Bert.</p>
<p>They were all feeling the effects of one of the
most thrilling experiences of their lives.</p>
<p>The <i>Fearless</i>, fortunate in not being in the direct
course of the typhoon, had felt its force sufficiently
to place her in great danger and to make
every man Jack of her crew do his duty in a desperate
effort to keep his ship from going to the
bottom. That they had come through safely with
no greater damage than the washing away of her
life-boats was largely due to Captain Manning’s
strength and courage, and the young fellows were
filled with admiration. Each in his heart had resolved<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span>
to prove himself as brave if a time of trial
should come to him.</p>
<p>With this thought in mind they had sat very
quietly for a few moments after Bert’s last remark,
but now they all thrilled with a new excitement
as Bert suddenly straightened up from his
lounging position, and, with kindling eye and
every faculty alert, grasped the key of his instrument.
The others knew that he had caught a
wireless message and feared from the sudden
flushing and paling of his face that it was a call
for help.</p>
<p>In the twinkling of an eye all was again excitement
on board the <i>Fearless</i>. The ship’s course
was altered and, with full steam pressure on her
engines, she fairly flew to the rescue. Twenty
miles, and a trifle over fifty minutes to reach that
sinking ship. Could she make it? Hearts felt
and lips asked the question as the <i>Fearless</i> raced
over the water, and all eyes were strained in a
vain effort to catch a sight of the ship to whose
succor they were going long before there was even
the remotest possibility of sighting her. Their
own peril was so recently passed that all on board
the <i>Fearless</i> throbbed with pity for those so much
more unfortunate than themselves, and prayed
heaven that they might be in time.</p>
<hr class="tb" />
<p>But if eyes were strained on the <i>Fearless</i>, how
much more earnestly did everyone of those on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span>
the ill-fated steamer look for some sign or sound
from a rescuing ship? The typhoon had passed
very quickly, but what havoc it had wrought in so
short a time! The floating palace that had
seemed so secure was now reduced to a dismantled,
twisted hulk, water-logged and slowly carrying
her unfortunate passengers to destruction.</p>
<p>A whole hour had passed since the message had
been sent forth to seek and find help, but no help
had come. Who shall attempt to record the history
of that hour? At first hope, faint it is true
but still hope, then increasing anxiety as the
doomed vessel settled deeper and deeper in the
water, then growing despair as all feared, what
the captain and crew knew, that in a very little
while would come the end. Even if a vessel should
appear now, the captain feared that only a few
could be saved, as it must be a work of time to
transfer those hundreds of passengers from one
ship to another. As all the life-boats had been
smashed and carried away, precious minutes must
be lost awaiting a boat from the rescuing ship.
But in order that all might be in readiness, the
women and children were placed close to the rail
to be taken first, and the other passengers told off
in squads for each succeeding embarkation so that
there need be no confusion at the last moment.</p>
<p>To the poor unfortunates those long minutes
of waiting, fraught with possibilities of life or
death, had seemed like hours. A great quiet had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span>
fallen over them, the paralyzing stupor of despair.
Nearly all had ceased to hope or look for
rescue, but sat with bowed heads, awaiting the
fate which could not now be long delayed.</p>
<p>Suddenly, through this silent despairing company
ran an electric thrill. Life pulsed in their
veins, and hope that they had thought dead,
sprang anew in their hearts. A sailor casting one
despairing glance about him, had seen the smokestacks
of a steamer gleaming red through the
faint mist that still hung over the water. Springing
to his feet, he began shouting, “Sail ho! a
sail! a sail!” For a moment all was wildest confusion,
and it was with greatest difficulty that the
captain, who had prepared for just this outbreak,
could control these frantic people and restore discipline
among them. By this time, the lookout on
the <i>Fearless</i> had made out the wreck and a heartening
toot-toot from her steam whistle gladdened
the waiting hundreds. But would she reach them
in time? Already the captain had noticed the
trembling of the ship that so surely foretells the
coming plunge into the depths of the ocean. It
is a miracle that Fate had so long stayed her hand.
To be lost now, with life and safety almost within
their grasp, would be doubly terrible.</p>
<p>Breathlessly they wait until the steamer moving
at the very limit of her speed, comes nearer
and nearer, till at last she slows and drifts only a
few hundred feet away.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span></p>
<p>To the surprise of the <i>Fearless</i>, no attempt was
made on board the sinking ship to lower her boats;
and equal was the consternation on board the
sinking steamer, when they saw that no boats were
lowered from the other ship.</p>
<p>“Her boats are gone, too,” shouted Bert as the
situation became plain to all. No sooner had the
words left his lips than the <i>Fearless’</i> carpenters
were at work, and in an incredibly short space of
time, a rough life buoy was knocked together.
They worked with a will for they knew that every
second might mean a life. The buoy consisted of
a rude platform with uprights at its four corners,
to the top of each of which a pulley was securely
fastened. Around the uprights ropes were wound
making a rude but safe conveyance.</p>
<p>While this was doing, a ball with string attached
was shot from a small cannon on board the
<i>Fearless</i>. Whistling through the air, it landed
just within the wrecked ship’s rail. Eager hands
prevent it from slipping and there is no lack of
helpers to draw in the line to the deck. With
deft but trembling hands the crew work to secure
the cable which follows the line.</p>
<p>At last the life line is adjusted and secured between
the two ships, the life buoy comes speeding
over the water to the doomed vessel, and as it
rushed back toward the waiting <i>Fearless</i>, with its
load of women and children, a great cheer goes
up. A moment, and the forlorn creatures are<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span>
lifted by tender hands to the <i>Fearless</i>, and the
buoy swings back for a second load. The work
of rescue has begun.</p>
<p>Back and forth swings the buoy until the women
and children are all safe, and still the miracle
holds; the wreck still floats. In less time than
would have seemed possible, all the sufferers from
the wreck have reached the rescuing ship except
the captain and his first mate, and the life buoy is
swung back for the last time. Hurry now, willing
hands! Already the bow of the sinking steamer
is buried beneath the waves. Another moment or
two, and it will be too late. Only a few feet
more. Speed, speed, life buoy! She reaches the
rail. Eager hands draw the two last voyagers
over and cut the now useless life line. As the
men step to the deck of the <i>Fearless</i> the wreck,
with one more convulsive shiver, plunges to her
last resting place, but, thank God, with not one
soul left upon her. All are saved, and Bert, overcome,
bows his head upon his arms, and again
thanks heaven for the wireless. Once more it has
wrought a miracle and plucked a host of precious
lives from the maw of the ravenous sea.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span></p>
<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X">CHAPTER X</a></h2>
<h3><span class="smcap">The Derelict</span></h3>
<p class="cap">“Beat this if you can, fellows,” said Tom,
as, next morning, lazily stretched in his
steamer chair on the deck of the <i>Fearless</i>, his eyes
took in with delight the broad expanse of the
ocean, with its heaving, green billows, capped
with feathery foam of dazzling whiteness; the
arching blue of the heavens, across which floated
soft, gray clouds, which, pierced through and
through by the brilliant sunshine, seemed as transparent
as a gossamer veil. A sea-gull, rising suddenly
from the crest of a wave, soared high with
gracefully waving wings; then suddenly turning,
swooped downward with the speed of an arrow,
disappearing for a moment beneath the wave,
rose again, triumphant, with a fish in its talons,
and swept majestically skyward.</p>
<p>Fountains of spray cast up by the swiftly moving
ship gleamed and flashed in the sunshine and
fell to the deck in myriad diamonds.</p>
<p>Tom’s pleasure was fully shared by his comrades,
and surely in contrast to the storm and
stress and darkness of yesterday, the sunshine and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span>
calm and beauty of this matchless day was enough
to fill them with keenest delight. The swift motion
of the good ship that had so gallantly weathered
the terrible storm, the sea air which, freighted
with salt spray as it rushed against their faces
made the flesh tingle, the brilliant sunshine,—all
combined to make this one of the happiest mornings
of their lives.</p>
<p>From sheer exuberance of joy Dick started
singing</p>
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">“A life on the ocean wave,”<br /></span>
</div></div>
<p class="noi">in which the others joined. As the last notes died
away they began to talk of yesterday’s storm.
Something that Tom said reminded Dick of an
exciting sea story he had read, and, complying
with Tom’s eager “Tell us about it,” he was soon
in the midst of the yarn, the boys listening with
eager delight. Others, seeing their absorbed interest,
drifted up until Dick had quite an audience
of interested listeners.</p>
<p>This story was followed by others, and one of
the passengers had just finished describing the
very narrow escape of a boatload of sailors who
were being drawn to destruction by the dying
struggles of an enormous whale which they had
harpooned, when Bert, who, while he listened,
had been idly watching a sail which had appeared<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span>
above the horizon, suddenly sprang to his feet in
great excitement and drew everybody’s attention.</p>
<p>“What is it? what is it?” cried Tom, catching
the excitement and also springing to his feet.</p>
<p>“Why,” Bert answered, “look at that ship to
starboard. I’ve been watching her for some time
and she acts differently from any ship I ever saw.
At first she seemed to be sailing a little distance
and then back again in a sort of zig-zag course,
but just a minute ago she turned side-on toward
us, and now she looks as if she were veering from
one point of the compass to another without any
attempt at steering.”</p>
<p>Following his gaze, all saw with intense surprise
the ship, as Bert had said, apparently without
guidance and drifting aimlessly.</p>
<p>After the first moments of startled silence, exclamations
and questions broke forth on all sides.</p>
<p>“Well, well, what a most extraordinary
thing!” “What ship can she be?” “She looks
like a schooner.” “Why does she drift in that
aimless fashion?” “What can be the matter
with her?”</p>
<p>By this time glasses had been brought. Eager
eyes scanned the strange ship from stem to stern,
and one of the gazers exclaimed:</p>
<p>“She certainly doesn’t seem to have anyone at
her wheel. She is evidently at the mercy of the
sea.”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span></p>
<p>This set everyone to talking at once and the
greatest excitement reigned. Everyone crowded
to the side of the ship to get a better view. The
stranger seemed to be about three miles away,
but, as the distance lessened between her and the
<i>Fearless</i>, the excitement on board increased, and
as, even with the glasses, no sign of living creature
could be seen, the sense of mystery deepened.</p>
<p>When, at last, the captain announced that he
would send a boat out to speak the strange ship,
a murmur of satisfaction was heard on every side.
At the call for volunteers there was no lack of response
and our boys were among them.</p>
<p>It was with breathless delight that they heard
their names called, and tumbled with others into
the boat.</p>
<p>“Here’s luck,” Dick exulted as he scrambled
to his place. The others agreed with him. But,
if they had expected a pleasure trip, they were
quickly undeceived. Standing on the deck of a
great ship like the <i>Fearless</i> is a very different
thing from sitting in a small boat, with the waves
which, from the ship’s deck had looked only moderately
large, now piling up into a great, green
wall in front of them, looking as if it must inevitably
fall upon and crush them.</p>
<p>That the wave did not conquer them, but
that the boat mounted to the top of it, seemed
little short of a miracle; and then, after poising<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span>
for a moment at the top, the plunge down the
other side of that green wall, seemed an equally
sure way to destruction. They were glad indeed
to remember that the boat was in the hands of experienced
and capable seamen. Altogether, they
were not sorry when, by the slowing up of the
speed, they knew that they were nearing their
goal and saw the ship that had so interested them
looming up before them.</p>
<p>Her name, <i>The Aurora</i>, flashed at them in great
golden letters from her prow. She was a fair-sized
schooner in first-class condition outwardly,
and calling for a crew of eighteen or twenty beside
the captain and officers; but, where were they
now? Sure enough, there was no one at the
wheel nor anywhere about the decks. Were they
below? If so, what was the desperate need or
urgent business that could hold officers and crew
below decks while their ship, unguarded, her rudder
banging noisily back and forth, lay, uncontrolled,
upon the waves?</p>
<p>Well, they from the <i>Fearless</i> were here to answer
these questions if they could, and preparations
were made to go on board. As they drew
closer they realized that it was going to be a very
difficult task to gain her deck. With the wheel
unmanned she broached to and fro with every
current and wave motion, and, constantly veering
from point to point, made it seemingly impossible<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span>
to mount her decks. A little assistance from on
board would have helped them greatly, but,
though they hailed her again and again, she made
no response.</p>
<p>After repeated unsuccessful efforts one of the
sailors, more agile than the others, succeeded in
springing into and grasping the rudder chains,
and hauling himself on deck. Catching up a rope
that lay near him, he cast it to his shipmates and,
by easing and adjusting the boat as much as possible
to the erratic heaving and plunging of the
ship, made it possible for the others to climb on
board. Very soon all, except two sailors who,
much to their disgust, were left in charge of the
boat, were standing together on the steamer’s
deck.</p>
<p>With bated breath they stood for many minutes,
looking about them in wide-eyed amazement,
but, as if by common instinct, not an audible sound
was heard, nor even a whispered word. A silence
so intense as to make itself felt, a sense of overwhelming
loneliness and solitude held them motionless.
It was as if they stood in the presence
of the dead. Here was the body, this big
schooner, but the soul had fled. The rush of feet,
the quick word of command, the hearty “Aye,
aye, sir,” in response, the noise of gear and tackle,
of ropes slapping on the deck, the songs of the
sailors as they go lustily about their work,—all<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span>
the sounds that make up the life of a ship were
stilled, and no sound but the splashing of the
waves against her sides broke the awesome silence.</p>
<p>At last, under the direction of Mr. Collins, four
men from the <i>Fearless</i> began to search the deck
for some solution of the mystery, and not one
among them was conscious of the fact that he
moved about on his toes in the presence of this
awe-inspiring silence.</p>
<p>Their search of the deck revealed nothing.
Everything seemed undisturbed. The life-boats
and even the little dinghy were in their places.
All was perfectly ship-shape, but over everything
was the silence of desertion.</p>
<p>While the deck was being searched by the four
men, the others, including Bert and Dick and
Tom, went below, for, here in the cabin, they
hoped to find some solution of the mystery. But
again they found the same chilling silence, the
same absolute desertion.</p>
<p>In the state-rooms the bunks were made up and
all was in order. An uncompleted letter lay on
the captain’s table and an open book lay face-downward
on the bed. In the cabin the only sign
of haste or disturbance was found. The table
was set for breakfast with the food upon it only
partly eaten. Chairs were pushed back from it
and one was overturned. A handkerchief lay on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span>
the floor as if hastily dropped, but there was no
further sign of panic or of any struggle.</p>
<p>Someone suggested that the storm had driven
them away in panic. Mr. Collins soon proved to
them the fallacy of that supposition by calling attention
to an unfinished garment which lay on a
sewing machine in one of the state-rooms. A
thimble and spool of cotton lay beside it. In a
storm these things would inevitably have been
thrown to the floor. He showed them further that
the breakfast things on the table were in their
places and not overturned as they must have been
in the storm. Then, too, the coffee in the urn was
barely cold, and the fire in the galley stove was
still burning. This proved conclusively that up
to almost the last moment before the desertion
of the ship, all was normal and peaceful on board.
“And,” he continued, “if there were nothing else
the last entry in the ship’s log would show that she
was not deserted until after the storm.”</p>
<p>While everyone listened with keenest interest,
he read them the account entered there of the
storm, the gallant behavior of the <i>Aurora</i>, and
the safety of all on board. The entry was made
with the kind of ink that writes blue but afterwards
turns black, and the officer called their attention
to the fact that the ink was not yet black.</p>
<p>“Why,” said he, “they must at this moment
be only a very few miles from the ship. Did anyone<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span>
ever hear of anything like this?” wondered
Dick. “Such a little while ago, and absolutely
nothing to show why they went. I’d give a whole
lot to know.”</p>
<p>“Well, anyway, it is evident,” said Bert as
they examined the galley, “that it was not hunger
or thirst that drove them away,” and he pointed
to the shelves of the pantry, well stocked with
meats and vegetables and fruits, and lifted the
cover from the water tank and showed it full of
sweet water.</p>
<p>With the feeling of wonder and amazement
growing upon them, they examined every corner
of the ship from deck to hold, but found no sign
of living creature, nor any clue to the profound
mystery. Cold shivers began to run up and down
their spines.</p>
<p>“What on earth or sea,” said the irrepressible
Tom, voicing the inmost thought of every mind,
“could have driven a company of men to abandon
a ship in such perfect condition as this
schooner is?” and again all stood silent in a last
effort to solve the problem.</p>
<p>“Well,” said Mr. Collins, “we have made a
most thorough search and nothing can be gained
by remaining here longer.” So, only waiting to
procure the ship’s log that he had laid upon the
table, he led the way to the deck. With a last
look about them, in the vain hope of finding some<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span>
living creature, they clambered into the boat and
rowed back to the <i>Fearless</i>.</p>
<p>On the way over, everyone was too oppressed
for further conversation, but as they neared the
<i>Fearless</i> their faces brightened; and as they stood
once more upon her decks, with the eager people
crowding about them, it seemed good, after the
desolation they had witnessed, to be on board a
live ship once more.</p>
<p>“This is surely a most wonderful and mysterious
thing,” said the captain, after listening to
their report. “What could have driven them to
such a desperate measure as abandoning a ship in
sound condition and so well provisioned? Was
it mutiny?”</p>
<p>“No, sir,” and the mate shook his head. “I
thought of that and we searched the ship for any
signs of a struggle or bloodshed; but there was
no evidence of fighting nor a drop of blood anywhere.”</p>
<p>“Was there, perhaps, a leak?” again suggested
the captain.</p>
<p>“Not that we could find,” Dick answered.
“The ship seemed as tight and safe as could be.
We are sure there is no leak.”</p>
<p>“What do you think about it?” asked Captain
Manning, turning to a very grave and thoughtful
gentleman standing near. This was Captain
Grant who the day before had so nobly stood by<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span>
his ill-fated ship and to whose rescue and that of
his unfortunate passengers the <i>Fearless</i> had come
with not a minute to spare. Captain Manning
had found him very congenial, and in the few
hours since he had come on board the two gentlemen
had become firm friends. At Captain Manning’s
question he turned to him cordially and answered
with a smile:</p>
<p>“Well, as far as the crew are concerned, it
might have been superstition, fear of ghosts perhaps.
This unreasoning fear has driven more
than one crew bodily from their ship.”</p>
<p>“If that was the cause,” ventured Bert, “is it
not possible that their panic may leave them, and
that they may return?”</p>
<p>“It is possible,” agreed Captain Manning,
smiling, “and we will cruise about as soon as I
can make preparation. We may be able to overtake
them or perhaps meet them returning.”</p>
<p>“Was her cargo a valuable one?” asked one
of Captain Grant’s passengers.</p>
<p>“Yes, quite,” was the response, “but not so
valuable as it would have been if she had been
homeward instead of outward bound. The log
shows her to be of Canadian construction and
bound from Vancouver to China with a cargo of
dried fish, skins, and lumber. If she had been returning
she would have been freighted, as you
know, with rich silks and tea and rice, of more<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span>
value than the cargo she carried from British Columbia.”</p>
<p>“Shall you attempt to return her to her owners?”
asked Mr. Collins. “A schooner like the
<i>Aurora</i> would mean a large salvage.”</p>
<p>“It certainly would,” replied the captain,
“and, if we had found her earlier in the voyage,
I should have towed her back. But now I cannot
afford the time, and I hardly know what to do.
She ought not to be left drifting; she is right in
the track of steamships, and so is a menace. Wilson,”
he said, turning to Bert, “try to raise a
United States vessel and give her the location of
the derelict.”</p>
<p>It took two hours before Bert succeeded, but
at last he reached the cruiser <i>Cormorant</i> and received
thanks for the information and assurance
that the matter would be attended to at once.</p>
<p>By this time all was ready and the <i>Fearless</i> began
to cruise in ever-widening circles around the
<i>Aurora</i>. With and without glasses all scanned
the sea in every direction for signs of a boat.
Once the call of the lookout drew all eyes to a
dark object which, at that distance, looked as if
it might be a yawl, and every heart beat faster
with the hope that at last the mystery of the <i>Aurora</i>
might be solved. But, alas, it was found to
be only a piece of broken mast, discarded from
some ship.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span></p>
<p>For several hours they cruised about, filled with
eager hope which gradually faded as the hours
went by. At last, Captain Manning gave the order,
and the <i>Fearless</i> again came about to her
course.</p>
<p>Everyone turned disappointedly from the rail
as the quest was abandoned, and it seemed to the
four young fellows that the <i>Fearless</i> swung slowly
and reluctantly, as if she disliked to leave her sister
ship to such an uncertain fate.</p>
<p>The good ship gathered speed, and as they
stood at the rail, Ralph thoughtfully said, “I
wonder if the mystery of that deserted ship will
ever be made clear.”</p>
<p>“Well,” said Bert, “when we return we can ascertain
if she lived to reach port.”</p>
<p>“Yes,” grumbled Tom. “But unless some of
the crew had returned before the government ship
reached her the mystery would be as profound as
ever. And,” he added, sinking disgustedly into
his steamer chair, and stretching himself out
lazily, “I do hate mysteries.”</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span></p>
<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI">CHAPTER XI</a></h2>
<h3><span class="smcap">The Tiger at Bay</span></h3>
<p class="cap">One day, about mid-afternoon, Bert was going
through his duties in a more or less mechanical
fashion, for the day had been warm, and
he had been on duty since early morning. For
several days past, practically no news of any interest
had come in over the invisible aerial pathways,
and as he had said to Dick only a short time
before, “everything was deader than a door
nail.”</p>
<p>Suddenly, however, the sounder began to click
in a most unusual fashion. The clicks were very
erratic, quick, and short, and to Bert’s experienced
ear it was apparent that the person sending
the message was in a state of great excitement.
He hastily adjusted the clamp that held the receiver
to his ear, and at the first few words of the
message his heart leapt with excitement.</p>
<p>“Tiger broken loose,” came the message, in
uneven spurts and dashes, “three of crew dead
or dying—am shut up in wireless room—beast is
sniffing at door—help us if you can—” and then<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span>
followed, latitude and longitude of the unlucky
vessel.</p>
<p>Bert’s hand leaped to the sender, and the powerful
spark went crashing out from the wires.
“Will come at once—keep up courage,” he sent,
and then snatched the apparatus off his head and
rushed in mad haste to the deck. Captain Manning
was below deck, and Bert communicated the
message he had just received to the commanding
officer at the time.</p>
<p>“Good heavens,” ejaculated the first officer,
“there’s only one thing for us to do, and that’s to
go to their aid just as fast as this old tub will take
us.”</p>
<p>This was no sooner said than done, and in a
few minutes the course of the vessel was changed,
and she was headed in the direction of the distressed
animal ship, for there could be little doubt
that such was the nature of the cargo she had on
board. It is not such an uncommon thing for a
wild animal to break loose during a voyage, but
generally it is recaptured with little trouble. Occasionally,
however, an especially ferocious animal
will escape, and at the very outset kill or
maim the men especially employed to take care
of them. Once let this happen, and the crew has
little chance against such an enemy. Nothing
much more terrible could be imagined than such a
situation, and such was the plight in which the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span>
crew of the animal ship found themselves. They
had made several vain attempts to trap the big
tiger, but at each attempt one of their number had
been caught and killed by the ferocious beast, until
in a panic they had retreated to the forecastle,
taking with them the first mate, who had been seriously
injured by the murderous claws of the
tiger as they were trying to cast a noose around
his neck. Left without management, their ship
was at the mercy of wind and wave, with no living
creature on deck save the big cat. He had vainly
tried to break into the men’s quarters, and failing
in that, had laid siege to the cabin of the wireless
operator. The door of this was fragile, however,
and although the desperate man within had piled
every article of furniture in the room against the
door, there could be little doubt that it was but
a matter of time when the maddened tiger would
make use of his vast strength and burst in the
frail barrier.</p>
<p>Such was the situation on board when, as
a last resource, the devoted operator sent out the
call for help that Bert had heard. The knowledge
that help was at least on the way gave heart
to the imprisoned and almost despairing man, and
he waited for the rescuing ship to arrive with all
the fortitude he could muster.</p>
<p>Meanwhile, on Bert’s ship, Captain Manning
had been summoned to the bridge, and had immediately<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span>
ordered full steam ahead. The ship quivered
and groaned as the steam rushed at high
pressure into the cylinders, causing the great propellers
to turn as though they had been but toys.
Great clouds of black smoke poured from the
funnel, and the ship forged ahead at a greater
speed than her crew had ever supposed her capable
of making.</p>
<p>Fast as was their progress, however, it seemed
but a crawl to the anxious group gathered on the
bridge, and Bert went below to send an encouraging
message to the unfortunate operator on the
other ship.</p>
<p>Crash! crash! and the powerful current crackled
and flashed from the wires.</p>
<p>“Keep up courage,” was the message Bert sent,
“keep up courage, and we will get help to you
soon. Are about ten knots from you now.”</p>
<p>For a few minutes there was no reply, and,
when the receiver finally clicked, Bert could hardly
catch the answer, so faint was it.</p>
<p>“The dynamo has stopped,” it read, “and batteries
are almost exhausted. Heard shouting
from the crew’s quarters a short time ago, and
think the tiger is probably trying to break in there.
A—few minutes—more—” but here the sounder
ceased, and Bert, in spite of his frantic efforts,
was unable to get another word, good or bad.
Finally, giving the attempt up as hopeless, he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span>
made his way to the bridge, where Captain Manning
and the first officer were absorbed over a
chart.</p>
<p>“We can’t be very far from them now, sir,”
the latter was saying. “At the rate this old
boat’s going now we ought to sight them pretty
soon, don’t you think so, sir?”</p>
<p>“We surely should,” replied the captain. “But
I wonder if Wilson has heard any more from
them. As long as—ah, here you are, eh, Mr.
Wilson? What’s the latest news from the distressed
vessel?”</p>
<p>“Pretty bad, sir,” said Bert. “The crew
seems to have become panic-stricken, including the
engine-room force, and they’ve allowed the dynamo
to stop. The wireless man didn’t have
enough current left from the batteries to finish
the message he was sending. He did say, though,
that the tiger was raising a rumpus up forward,
and trying to break into the men’s quarters. I
can only hope, sir, that we will not arrive too
late.”</p>
<p>“I hope so, indeed,” responded Captain Manning,
gloomily, “but even if we get there before
the beast has gotten at them, we’ll have our work
cut out for us. We have no adequate weapons on
board, and we can’t hope to cope with a foe like
that barehanded.”</p>
<p>“That’s very true,” said the first officer,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span>
scratching his head. “I rather had a feeling that
all we had to do was to get there and kill the tiger,
but I must confess I hadn’t figured out how.
However,” he added, “I’ve got a brace of pistols
in my cabin, and I suppose you have, too, haven’t
you, sir?” addressing the captain.</p>
<p>“Oh, of course I have them,” said the captain,
impatiently, “but they’re not much good in an affair
of this kind. What we need is a big game
rifle, and that’s something we haven’t got. However,
I imagine we’ll hit on some plan after we
get there. Set your wits to work, Mr. Wilson,
and see if you can’t figure out a scheme. You
have always struck me as being pretty ingenious.”</p>
<p>“Well, I’ll do my best, you may be sure of
that, sir,” replied Bert, “but meanwhile, I guess
I’d better go below and see if by any chance they
have got their wireless working again.”</p>
<p>“Aye, aye,” said the captain, “see what you
can do, and I’ll see that you are informed when
we get near the vessel.”</p>
<p>Bert did as he had proposed, but could get no
response from his apparatus, and was just giving
over the attempt as hopeless when he got a message
from the captain that they were close up to
the unfortunate ship.</p>
<p>Hastily unfastening the “harness” from his
head, Bert rushed on deck, and gave a quick look
about him. Sure enough, they were close aboard<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span>
a rusty-looking steamer, that drifted aimlessly
about, and at first glance seemed to have no living
soul aboard. The deck was untenanted and
showed no signs of life, and the silence was unbroken
save for an occasional cry from the caged
animals in the hold.</p>
<p>Of the tiger said to be loose on board there
was no indication, however, but they soon made
out a colored handkerchief waving from one of
the portholes that afforded light and ventilation
to the “fo’castle.” Presently they heard someone
shouting to them, but were unable to make
out what was said.</p>
<p>Captain Manning ordered a boat lowered, and
carefully picked the men whom he desired to go
in it. When he had chosen almost his full
crew, Bert hurried up to him, and said: “I beg
your pardon, sir, but I would like to ask you a
favor. Do you think you could allow me and
my friend, Mr. Trent, to go along? I think
we could do our share of what’s to be done,
and I feel that I ought to be among the party
that goes in aid of a fellow operator.”</p>
<p>At first the captain would not hear of any such
proposition, but finally, by dint of much persuasion,
Bert won a reluctant consent.</p>
<p>“All right,” grumbled the captain. “If you
must, you must, I suppose. But hurry up now.
Step lively! All hands ready?”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span></p>
<p>“Aye, aye, sir,” sang out the crew, and after
a few parting instructions from Captain Manning,
the first officer, Mr. Collins, shouted the
order to give way.</p>
<p>The crew bent to their oars with a will, and the
heavy boat fairly leaped through the water at
their sturdy strokes. In almost less time than it
takes to tell, the boat was under the porthole
from which they had first seen the signals, and
Mr. Collins was talking in a low voice with a
white-faced man who peered out of the circular
opening.</p>
<p>“He almost had us a little time back,” said the
latter, “but we managed to make enough noise
to scare him away for the time. We haven’t
heard anything of him for quite a while now, but
he’s hungry, and he’ll soon be back. Heaven help
us, then, if you fellows can’t do something for
us.”</p>
<p>“We’ll get him, all right, never fear,” said
Mr. Collins, reassuringly, “but how do you stand
now? How many did the beast get before you
got away from him?”</p>
<p>“He killed the three animal keepers almost at
one swipe,” said the man, who proved to be the
second mate. “Then the captain, as was a brave
man, stood up to him with an old gun he used to
keep in his cabin, and the beast crushed his head
in before he could get the old thing to work. It<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span>
must have missed fire, I guess. Then the brute
started creeping toward us as was on deck, and
we made a rush for the fo’castle door. The first
officer happened to be the last one in, and the
tiger just caught his arm with his claws and
ripped it open to the bone. We managed to drag
him in and slam the door in the beast’s face,
though, and then we piled everything we could
lay hand to against the door.”</p>
<p>“What did he do then?” inquired Mr. Collins.</p>
<p>“Why, he went ragin’ back and made a dive
for one of the stokers that was up at the engine-room
hatchway gettin’ a bit of fresh air, and he
almost nabbed him. The dago dived below,
though, and had sense enough to drop a grating
after him. That stopped the cursed brute, and
then I don’t know what he did for a while. Just
a little while ago, though, as I was tellin’ ye, he
came sniffin’ and scratchin’ around the door, and
if he made a real hard try he’d get in, sure. Then
it ’ud be good-night for us. Not one of us would
get out of here alive.”</p>
<p>“But now that he’s left you for a time, why
don’t you make an attempt to trap or kill him?”
inquired Mr. Collins, and there was a little contempt
in his tone.</p>
<p>“What, us? Never in a hundred years,” replied
the man, in a scared voice. It was evident
that the crew was completely unnerved, and Mr.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span>
Collins and his crew realized that if anything
was to be done they must do it unaided.</p>
<p>“Well, here goes,” said he. “We might as
well get on that deck first as last. We’ll never
get anywhere by sitting here and talking.” Accordingly,
they clambered up on deck, one by
one, led by the first mate. In a short time they
were all safely on deck, and looked around, their
hearts beating wildly, for any sign of the ferocious
animal. As far as any evidences of his
presence went, however, the nearest tiger might
have been in Africa. There was a deathlike hush
over the ship, broken at times by the muffled
chattering of the monkeys confined in cages below
decks.</p>
<p>All the men were armed with the best weapons
they were able to obtain, consisting chiefly of
heavy iron bars requisitioned from the engine-room.
Mr. Curtis, of course, had a pair of
heavy revolvers, and both Bert and Dick had
each a serviceable .45-calibre Colt. These were
likely to prove of little avail against such an
opponent, however, and more than one of the
crew wished he were safely back on the deck of
his own ship.</p>
<p>Not so Bert and Dick, however, and their eyes
danced and sparkled from excitement. “Say,”
whispered Dick in Bert’s ear, “talk about the
adventures of that fellow you and I were reading<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span>
about a day or two ago. This promises to
outdo anything that <i>I</i> ever heard of.”</p>
<p>“It sure does,” said Bert, in the same suppressed
voice. “I wonder where that beast can
be hiding himself. This suspense is getting on
my nerves.”</p>
<p>All the rescuing party felt the same way, but
the tiger obstinately refused to put in an appearance.
The men started on an exploring expedition,
beginning at the bow and working toward
the stern. At every step they took, the probability
of their presently stumbling on the animal
became more imminent, and their nerves were
keyed to the breaking point.</p>
<p>In this manner they traversed almost two-thirds
of the deck, and were about to round the
end of the long row of staterooms when suddenly,
without a moment’s warning, the tiger stood before
them, not thirty feet away.</p>
<p>At first he seemed to be surprised, but as the
men watched him, fascinated, they could see his
cruel yellow eyes gradually change to black, and
hear a low rumble issue from his throat. For a
few seconds not one of them seemed able to move
a hand, but then Mr. Curtis yelled, “Now’s your
time, boys. Empty your revolvers into him, Wilson
and Crawford,” and suiting the action to the
word, he opened fire on the great cat.</p>
<p>Bert and Dick did likewise, but in their excitement<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span>
most of their shots went wild, and only
wounded the now thoroughly infuriated animal.</p>
<p>With a roar that fairly shook the ship the tiger
leapt toward the hardy group. “Back! Back!”
shouted Mr. Collins, and they retreated hastily.
The tiger just fell short of them, but quickly
gathered himself for another spring, and two of
the more faint-hearted seamen started to run
toward the bow. Indeed, it was a situation to
daunt the heart of the bravest man, but Bert and
the others who retained their self-control knew
that it was now too late to retreat, and their only
course, desperate as it seemed, was to stand
their ground and subdue the raging beast if possible.</p>
<p>The tiger’s rage was truly a terrible thing to
see. As he stood facing them, foam dripped
from his jaws, and great rumblings issued from
his throat. His tail lashed back and forth viciously,
and he began creeping along the deck
toward them.</p>
<p>But now Bert and Dick and the first mate had
had a chance, in frantic haste, to load their revolvers,
and they gripped the butts of their weapons
in a convulsive grasp. And they had need
of all they could muster.</p>
<p>Soon the tiger judged he was near enough for
a spring, and stopping, gathered his great muscles
under him in tense knots. Then he sprang<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span>
through the air like a bolt from a cross-bow, and
this time they had no chance to retreat.</p>
<p>As the raging beast landed among them, the
men scattered to left and right, and struck out
with the heavy iron bars they had brought with
them. They dodged this way and that, evading
the tiger’s ripping claws and snapping teeth as
best they could, and landing a blow whenever the
opportunity offered. They were not to escape
unscathed from such an encounter, however, and
again and again shouts of pain arose from those
unable to avoid the raving beast. Bert and Dick
waited until the tiger’s attention was concentrated
on three of the men who were making a concerted
attack on him, and then, at almost point blank
range, emptied their revolvers into the beast’s
head. At almost the same moment the first mate
followed suit, and the tiger stopped in his struggles,
and stood stupidly wagging his head from
side to side, while bloody foam slavered and
dripped from his jaws. Then he gradually
slumped down on the reddened deck, and finally
lay still, with once or twice a convulsive shiver
running over him.</p>
<p>Quickly reloading their revolvers, Bert, Dick,
and the first mate delivered another volley at the
prostrate beast, so as to take no chances.</p>
<p>Every muscle in the animal’s beautiful body
relaxed, his great head rolled limply over on to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span>
the deck, and it was evident that he was dead.
A cheer arose from the men, but their attention
was quickly turned to themselves, and with good
reason. Not one of them had escaped a more
or less painful wound from the great beast’s tearing
claws, one or two of which threatened to
become serious. Both Bert and Dick had deep,
painful scratches about the arms and shoulders,
but they felt glad enough to escape with only
these souvenirs of the desperate encounter.</p>
<p>“Well, men,” said Mr. Collins, after they had
bound up their wounds temporarily, and were
limping back toward their boat, “I think we can
thank our lucky stars that we got off as easily
as we did. When that fellow jumped for us the
second time, I for one never expected to come out
of the mix-up alive.”</p>
<p>“I, either,” said Bert. “I like excitement about
as well as anybody, I guess, but this job of fighting
tigers with nothing but a revolver is a little
too rich for me. The next time I try it I’ll want
to pack a cannon along.”</p>
<p>“Righto!” said Dick, with a laugh that was
a trifle shaky. “But what are we going to do
now? I suppose the first thing is to let those
low-lives out of the forecastle and tell ’em we’ve
fixed their tiger for them.”</p>
<p>“We might as well,” acquiesced Mr. Collins,
and they lost no time in following out Dick’s suggestion.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span>
Before they reached the forecastle they
were joined by the two men who had run at the
tiger’s second onslaught, and you may be sure
they looked thoroughly ashamed of themselves.
The men who had stood fast realized that reproaches
would do no good, however, and they
were so exhilarated over their victory, now that
they began to realize just what they had accomplished,
that they were not inclined to indulge in
recriminations. They could come later.</p>
<p>They were about to resume their march to the
crew’s quarters when Dick happened to notice
that Bert was missing. The men all started out
in search of him, but their anxiety was soon relieved
by seeing Bert return accompanied by a
man whom he presently introduced to them as the
wireless operator. The latter was profuse in his
expressions of gratitude, but Bert refused point
blank to listen to him.</p>
<p>“It’s no more than you would have done for
us, if you had had the chance,” he said, “therefore,
thanks are entirely out of order.”</p>
<p>“Not a bit of it,” persisted the other, warmly.
“It was a mighty fine thing for you fellows to
do, and, believe me, I, for one, will never forget
it.”</p>
<p>By now they were in front of the fo’castle, and
shouted out to the men within that they could
come out with safety. There was a great noise<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span>
of objects within being pulled away from the
door, and then the crew of the animal ship
emerged in a rather sheepish manner, for they
realized that they had not played a very heroic
part. However, they had had very little in the
way of weapons, and perhaps their conduct might
be palliated by this fact.</p>
<p>Two of them immediately set to work skinning
the tiger, and meantime the wounded first mate
of the animal ship expressed his thanks and that
of the crew to Mr. Collins. Then the limping,
smarting little band clambered over the side and
into their waiting boat. The row back to the
ship seemed to consume an age, but you may be
sure that the two sailors who had escaped the
conflict were now forced to do most of the hard
work, and they did not even attempt to object,
no doubt realizing the hopelessness of such a
course.</p>
<p>They reached their ship at last, however, and
were greeted with praise from the passengers on
account of their bravery, and sympathy over their
many and painful wounds.</p>
<p>After Mr. Collins had made his report to the
captain, the latter shook his head gravely. “Perhaps
I did wrong in letting you undertake such
a task,” he said, “but I don’t know what else we
could have done. Heaven knows how long it
would have taken any other vessel to get here,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span>
and after they arrived they might not have had
any greater facilities for meeting such a situation
than we had. But I’m very glad we got out of
the predicament without actual loss of life.”</p>
<p>“We were very fortunate, indeed,” agreed
Mr. Collins, and here they dropped the subject,
for among men who habitually followed a dangerous
calling even such an adventure as this does
not seem such a very unusual occurrence.</p>
<p>Bert was not so seriously wounded as to make
it impossible to resume his duties, however, and
after a few days his wounds gave him no further
trouble. Needless to say, the remembrance of
the desperate adventure never entirely left his
mind to the end of his life, and for weeks afterward
he would wake from a troubled sleep seeing
again in his imagination the infuriated tiger
as it had looked when leaping at the devoted
group.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span></p>
<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII">CHAPTER XII</a></h2>
<h3><span class="smcap">Among the Cannibals</span></h3>
<p class="cap">The routine life of shipboard wore quietly
on for several days without interruption.
The staunch ship held steadily on its course, and
the ceaseless vibrations of its engines came to
be as unnoticed and as unthought of as the beatings
of their own hearts. There had been no
storms for some time, as indeed there seldom
were at this time of the year, and Bert’s duties
as wireless operator occupied comparatively little
of his time. He had plenty left, therefore, to
spend with Dick and Tom, and they had little
trouble in finding a way to occupy their leisure
with pleasure and profit to themselves and others.</p>
<p>A favorite resort was the engine room, where
in spite of the heat they spent many a pleasant
hour in company with the chief engineer, MacGregor.
The latter was a shaggy old Scotchman
with a most stern and forbidding exterior, but a
heart underneath that took a warm liking to the
three comrades, much to the surprise and disgust
of the force of stokers and “wipers” under him.</p>
<p>“And phwat do yez think of the old man?”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span>
one was heard to remark to his companion one
day. “There was a toime when the chief ’ud
look sour and grumble if the cap’n himself so
much as poked his nose inside the engine room
gratin’, and now here he lets thim young spalpeens
run all ovir the place, wid never a kick out
o’ him.”</p>
<p>“Sure, an’ Oi’ve ben noticin’ the same,” agreed
his companion, “an’ phwat’s more, he answers all
their questions wid good natur’, and nivir seems
to have ony desire to dhrop a wrinch on their
noodles.”</p>
<p>“Perhaps ’tis because the youngsters ask him
nothin’ but sinsible questions, as ye may have
noticed,” said he who had spoken first, as he
leaned on his shovel for a brief rest. “Shure,
an’ it’s me private opinion that the young cubs
know ’most as much about the engines as old
Mac himsilf.”</p>
<p>“Thrue fer you,” said the other. “Only yisterday,
if O’im not mistaken, young Wilson, him
as runs the wireless outfit for the ship, was down
here, and they were havin’ a argyment regardin’
the advantages of the reciprocatin’ engines over
the new steam turbins, an’ roast me in me own
furnace if I don’t think the youngster had the
goods on the old man right up t’ the finish.”</p>
<p>“Oi wouldn’t be su’prised at ahl, at ahl,”
agreed his companion. “The young felly has a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span>
head for engines, an’ no mistake. He’s got a
lot o’ book larnin’ about ’em, too.”</p>
<p>It was indeed as the stokers said, and a strong
friendship and mutual regard had sprung up between
the grizzled old engineer and the enthusiastic
wireless operator. As our readers doubtless
remember, Bert had been familiar with things
mechanical since boyhood, and during his college
course had kept up his knowledge by a careful
reading of the latest magazines and periodicals
given over to mechanical research. Needless to
say, his ideas were all most modern, while on the
part of the chief engineer there was a tendency
to stick to the tried and tested things of mechanics
and fight very shy of all inventions and innovations.</p>
<p>However, each realized that the other knew
what he was talking about, and each had a respect
for the opinions of the other. This did not
prevent their having long arguments at times,
however, in which a perfect shower and deluge of
technical words and descriptions filled the air. It
seldom happened, though, that either caused the
other to alter his original stand in the slightest
degree, as is generally the case in all arguments
of any sort.</p>
<p>But the engineer was always ready to explain
things about the ponderous engines that Bert did
not fully understand, and there were constant<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span>
problems arising from Bert’s inspection of the
beautifully made machinery that only the engineer,
of all on board, could solve for him. Bert
always found a fascination in watching the powerful
engines and would sit for hours at a time,
when he was at leisure, watching each ingenious
part do its work, with an interest that never
flagged.</p>
<p>He loved to study the movements of the mighty
pistons as they rose and fell like the arm of some
immense giant, and speculate on the terrific power
employed in every stroke. The shining, smooth,
well-oiled machinery seemed more beautiful to
Bert than any picture he had ever seen, and the
regular click and chug of the valves was music.
Every piece of brass, nickel and steel work in the
engine room was spotlessly clean, and glittered
and flickered in the glow from the electric lights.</p>
<p>Sometimes he and MacGregor would sit in
companionable silence for an hour at a time,
listening to the hiss of steam as it rushed into
the huge cylinders, and was then expelled on the
upward stroke of the piston. MacGregor loved
his engines as he might a pet cat or dog, and
often patted them lovingly when he was sure nobody
was around to observe his actions.</p>
<p>Once the engineer had taken Bert back along
the course of the big propeller shaft to where it
left the ship, water being prevented from leaking<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span>
in around the opening by means of stuffing boxes.
At intervals the shaft was supported by bearings
made of bronze, and as they passed them the
old man always passed his hand over them to
find out if by any chance one was getting warm
on account of the friction caused by lack of
proper lubrication.</p>
<p>“For it’s an afu’ thing,” he said to Bert, shaking
his head, “to have a shaft break when you’re
in the ragin’ midst of a storm. It happened to
me once, an’ the second vayage I evir took as
chief engineer, and I hae no desire t’ repeat the
experience.”</p>
<p>“What did you do about it?” inquired Bert.</p>
<p>“We did the anly thing there was to be done,
son. We set the whole engine room force drillin’
holes thrae the big shaft, and then we riveted a
wee snug collar on it, and proceeded on our way.
Two days and two nights we were at it, with the
puir bonnie ship driftin’ helpless, an’ the great
waves nigh breakin’ in her sides. Never a wink
o’ sleep did I get during the hale time, and none
of the force under me got much more. Ye may
believe it was a fair happy moment for all of us
when we eased the steam into the low pressure
cylinder and saw that the job was like to hold
until we got tae port. Nae, nae, one experience
like thot is sufficient tae hold a mon a lifetime.”</p>
<p>“I should think it would be,” said Bert. “You<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span>
generally hear a lot about the romantic side of
accidents at sea, but I guess the people actually
mixed up in them look at the matter from a different
point of view.”</p>
<p>“Nae doot, nae doot,” agreed the old Scotsman,
“and what credit do ye suppose we got for
all our work? The papers were full o’ the bravery
and cael headedness the skipper had exhibited,
but what o’ us poor deils wha’ had sweated
and slaved twae mortal day an nichts in a swelterin’,
suffercatin’ hold, whi’ sure death for us
gin anything sprang a leak and the ship sank?
Wae’d a’ had nae chanct t’ git on deck and in a
boat. Wae’d have been drounded like wee rats
in a trap. I prasume nobody thocht o’ that,
howiver.”</p>
<p>“That’s the way it generally works out, I’ve
noticed,” said Bert. “Of course, many times the
captain does deserve much or all the credit, but
the newspapers never take the trouble to find out
the facts. You can bet your case wasn’t the first
of the kind that ever occurred.”</p>
<p>“’Tis as you say,” agreed the engineer; “but
nae we must back to the engine room, me laddie.
I canna feel easy when I am far frae it.”</p>
<p>Accordingly they retraced their course, and
were soon back in the room where the machinery
toiled patiently day and night, never groaning or
complaining when taken proper care of, as you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span>
may be sure these engines were. MacGregor
would have preferred to have somebody make a
slighting remark about him than about his idolized
engines, and would have been less quick to
resent it.</p>
<p>Bert was about to take his leave, when suddenly
Tom and Dick came tumbling recklessly
down the steep ladder leading to the engine room,
and fairly fell down the last few rounds.</p>
<p>“Say, Bert, beat it up on deck,” exclaimed
Tom, as soon as he was able to get his breath.
“We sighted an island an hour or so ago, and
as we get nearer to it we can see that there’s
a signal of some sort on it. Captain Manning
says that none of the islands hereabout are inhabited,
so it looks as though somebody had been
shipwrecked there. The skipper’s ordered the
course changed so as to head straight toward it,
and we ought to be within landing distance in less
than an hour.”</p>
<p>“Hooray!” yelled Bert. “I’ll give you a
race up, fellows, and see who gets on deck first,”
and so saying he made a dive for the ladder.
Dick and Tom made a rush to intercept him, but
Bert beat them by a fraction of an inch, and
went up the steep iron ladder with as much agility
as any monkey. The others were close at his
heels, however, and in less time than it takes to
tell they were all on deck.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span></p>
<p>Dick and Tom pointed out the island to Bert,
and there, sure enough, he saw what appeared to
be a remnant of some flag nailed to an upright
branch planted in the ground. They were not
more than a mile from the island by this time,
and soon Captain Manning rang the gong for
half speed ahead. A few moments later he gave
the signal to shut off power, and the vibration of
the ship’s engines ceased abruptly. The sudden
stopping of the vibration to which by now they
had become so accustomed that it seemed part of
life came almost like a blow to the three young
men, and they were obliged to laugh.</p>
<p>“Gee, but that certainly seems queer,” said
Tom. “It seems to me as though I must have
been used to that jarring all my life.”</p>
<p>“Well,” said Dick, “it certainly feels unusual
now, but I will be perfectly willing to exchange it
for a little trip on good, solid land. I hope we
can persuade the captain to let us go ashore with
the men.”</p>
<p>The captain’s consent was easily obtained, and
they then awaited impatiently for the boat to be
launched that was to take them to the island.</p>
<p>The island was surrounded by a coral reef, in
which at first there appeared to be no opening.
On closer inspection, however, when they had
rowed close up to it, they found a narrow entrance,
that they would never have been able to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span>
use had the water been at all rough. Fortunately,
however, the weather had been very calm for
several days past, so they had little difficulty in
manœuvering the boat through the narrow opening.
As it was, however, once or twice they could
hear the sharp coral projections scrape against the
boat’s sides, and they found time even in their
impatience to land to wonder what would happen
to any ship unfortunate enough to be tossed
against the reef.</p>
<p>After they had passed the reef all was clear
sailing, and a few moments later the boat grated
gently on a sloping beach of dazzling white sand,
and the sailor in the bow leapt ashore and drew
the boat a little way up on the beach. Then they
all jumped out and stood scanning what they
could see of the place for some sign of life other
than that of the signal they had seen from the
ship. This now hung limply down around the
pole, and no sound was to be heard save the lap
of the waves against the reef and an occasional
bird note from the rim of trees that began where
the white sand ended.</p>
<p>The green trees and vegetation stood out in
sharp relief contrasted with the white beach and
the azure sky, and the three boys felt a tingle of
excitement run through their veins. Here was
just such a setting for adventures and romance as
they had read about often in books, but had hardly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span>
dared ever hope to see. This might be an island
where Captain Kidd had made his headquarters
and buried priceless treasure, some of which at
that moment might lie under the sand on which
they were standing. The green jungle in front of
them might contain any number of adventures
and hair-raising exploits ready to the hand of
any one who came to seek, and at the thought
the spirits of all three kindled.</p>
<p>“This is the chance of a lifetime, fellows,”
said Bert, in a low voice, “if we don’t get some
excitement out of this worth remembering, I
think it will be our own fault.”</p>
<p>“That’s what,” agreed Dick, “why in time
don’t we get busy and do something. We
won’t find the person who put up that signal by
standing here and talking. I want to make a
break for those trees and see what we can find
there.”</p>
<p>“Same here,” said Tom, “and I guess we’re
going to do something at last, by the looks of
things.”</p>
<p>Mr. Miller, the second mate, who had been
placed in charge of the party, had indeed arrived
at a decision, and now made it known to the whole
group.</p>
<p>“I think the best thing we can do,” he said,
“is to skirt the forest there and see if we can
find anything that looks like a path or trail. If<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span>
there’s any living thing on this island it must have
left some sort of a trace.”</p>
<p>This was done accordingly, and in a short time
they were walking along the edge of the jungle,
each one straining his eyes for any indication of
a trail. At first they met with no success, but
finally Tom gave a whoop. “Here we are,” he
yelled, “here’s a path, or something that looks a
whole lot like one, leading straight into the forest.
Come along, fellows,” and he started on a
run along an almost obliterated trail that everybody
else had overlooked.</p>
<p>You may be sure Bert and Dick were not far
behind him, and were soon following close on his
heels. After they had gone a short distance in
this reckless fashion they were forced to slow
down on account of the heat, which was overpowering.
Also, as they advanced, the underbrush
became thicker and thicker, and it soon became
difficult to make any progress at all. Great
roots and vines grew in tangled luxuriance across
the path, and more than once one of them tripped
and measured his length on the ground.</p>
<p>Soon they felt glad to be able to progress even
at a walk, and Bert said, “We want to remember
landmarks that we pass, fellows, so that we
can be sure of finding our way back. It wouldn’t
be very hard to wander off this apology of a
path, and find ourselves lost.”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span></p>
<p>“Like the babes in the woods,” supplemented
Dick, with a laugh.</p>
<p>“Exactly,” grinned Bert, “and I don’t feel
like doing any stunts along that line myself just
at present.”</p>
<p>These words were hardly out of his mouth
when the path suddenly widened out into a little
opening or glade, and the boys stopped abruptly
to get their bearings.</p>
<p>“Look! over there, fellows,” said Bert, in an
excited voice. “If I’m not very much mistaken
there’s a hut over there, see, by that big tree—no,
no, you simps, the big one with the wild grape
vine twisted all over it. See it now?”</p>
<p>It was easy to see that they did, for they both
hurried over toward the little shack at a run, but
Bert had started even before they had, and beat
them to it. They could gather little information
from its contents when they arrived, however.
Inside were a few ragged pieces of clothing, and
in one corner a bed constructed of twigs and
branches. In addition to these there was a rude
chair constructed of boughs of trees, and tied together
with bits of string and twine. It was evident
from this, however, that some civilized person
had at one time inhabited the place, and at
a recent date, too, for otherwise the hut would
have been in a more dilapidated condition than
that in which they found it.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span></p>
<p>They rummaged around, scattering the materials
of which the bed was constructed to left and
right. Suddenly Tom gave a yell and pounced on
something that he had unearthed.</p>
<p>“Why don’t you do as I do, pick things up
and look for them afterward?” he said, excitedly.</p>
<p>“What is it? What did you find?” queried
Bert, who was more inclined to be sure of his
ground before he became enthusiastic. “It looks
a good deal like any other old memorandum
book, as far as I can see.”</p>
<p>“All right, then, we’ll read it and see what
<i>is</i> in it,” replied Tom. “Why, it’s a record of
somebody’s life on the island here. I suppose
maybe you think that’s nothing to find, huh?”</p>
<p>Without waiting for a reply he started to read
the mildewed old book, and Bert and Dick read
also, over his shoulder.</p>
<p>The first entry was dated about a month previous
to the time of reading, and seemed to be simply
a rough jotting down of the important events
in the castaway’s life for future reference. There
were records of the man, whoever he might be,
having found the spring beside which he had built
the hut in which they were now standing; of his
having erected the rude shelter, and a good many
other details.</p>
<p>The three boys read the scribbled account with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span>
breathless interest, as Tom turned over page
after page. “Come on, skip over to the last
page,” said Bert at last, “we can read all this
some other time, and I’m crazy to know what happened
to the fellow, whoever he is. Maybe he’s
written that down, too, since he seems to be so
methodical.”</p>
<p>In compliance with this suggestion, Tom turned
to the last written page of the note-book, and
what the boys read there caused them to gasp. It
was scribbled in a manner that indicated furious
haste, and read as follows:</p>
<p>“Whoever you are who read this, for heaven’s
sake come to my aid, if it is not too late. Last
night I was awakened by having my throat
grasped in a grip of iron, and before I could even
start to struggle I was bound securely. By the
light of torches held by my captors I could see
that I was captured by a band of black-skinned
savages. After securing me beyond any chance
of escape, they paid little further attention to me,
and held what was apparently a conference regarding
my disposal. Finally they made preparations
to depart, but first cooked a rude meal and
my hands were unbound to enable me to eat. At
the first opportunity I scrawled this account, in the
hope that some party seeing my signal, might by
chance find it, and be able to help me. As the savages
travel I will try to leave some trace of our<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span>
progress, so you can follow us. I only hope—”
but here the message ended suddenly, leaving the
boys to draw their own conclusions as to the rest
of it.</p>
<p>For a few moments they gazed blankly into
each other’s faces, and uttered never a word.
Bert was the first to break the silence.</p>
<p>“I guess it’s up to us, fellows,” he said, and
the manly lines of his face hardened. “We’ve
got to do something to help that poor devil, and
the sooner we start the better. According to the
dates in this book it must have been last Thursday
night that he was captured, and this is Monday.
If we hurry we may be able to trace him
up and do something for him before it’s too late.”</p>
<p>The thought that they themselves might be captured
or meet with a horrible death did not seem
to enter the head of one of them. They simply
saw plainly that it was, as Bert had said, “up to
them” to do the best they could under the circumstances,
and this they proceeded to do without
further loss of time.</p>
<p>“The first thing to do,” said Bert, “is to scout
around and see if we can find the place where the
savages left the clearing with their prisoner. Then
it will be our own fault if we cannot follow the
trail.”</p>
<p>This seemed more easily said than done, however,
and it was some time before the three, fretting<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span>
and impatient at the delay, were able to find
any clue. At last Bert gave an exultant whoop
and beckoned the others over to where he stood.</p>
<p>“I’ll bet any amount of money this is where
they entered the jungle,” he said, exultantly.
“Their prisoner evidently evaded their observation
while they were breaking a path through, and
pinned this on the bush here,” and he held up a
corner of a white linen handkerchief, with the initial
M embroidered on the corner.</p>
<p>“Gee, I guess you’re right,” agreed Dick.
“Things like that don’t usually grow on bushes.
It ought to be easy for us to trace the party now.”</p>
<p>This proved to be far from the actual case,
however, and if it had not been for the occasional
scraps of clothing fluttering from a twig or bush
every now and then their search would have probably
ended in failure. So rank and luxuriant is
the jungle growth in tropical climates, that although
in all probability a considerable body of
men had passed that way only a few days before,
practically all trace of their progress was gone.
The thick underbrush grew as densely as ever, and
it would have seemed to one not skilled in woodland
arts that the foot of man had never trod
there. Monkeys chattered in the trees as they
went along, and parrots with rainbow plumage
shot among the lofty branches, uttering raucous
cries. Humming clouds of mosquitoes rose and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span>
gathered about their heads, and added to the heat
to make their journey one of torment.</p>
<p>Their previous experience as campers now
stood them in good stead, and they read without
much trouble signs of the progress of the party
in front of them that they must surely have missed
otherwise.</p>
<p>After three hours of dogged plodding, in which
few words were exchanged, Bert said, “I don’t
think we can have very much further to go, fellows.
I remember the captain saying that this
island was not more than a few miles across in
any direction, and we must have traveled some
distance already. We’re bound to stumble on
their camp soon, so we’d better be prepared.”</p>
<p>“Probably by this time,” said Tom, “the savages
will have returned to the mainland, or some
other island from which they came. I don’t think
it very likely that they live permanently on this
one. It seems too small.”</p>
<p>“Yes, I thought of that,” said Bert, “but
we’ve got to take our chance on that. If they are
gone, there is nothing else we can do, and we can
say we did our best, anyway.”</p>
<p>“But what shall we do when we find them?”
asked Tom, after a short pause, “provided, of
course, that our birds haven’t flown.”</p>
<p>“Oh, we’ll have to see how matters stand, and
make our plans accordingly,” replied Bert. “You<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span>
fellows had better make sure your revolvers are
in perfect order. I have a hunch that we’ll need
them before we get through with this business.”</p>
<p>Fortunately, before leaving the ship the boys
had, at Bert’s suggestion, strapped on their revolvers,
and each had slipped a handful of cartridges
into their pockets.</p>
<p>“The chances are a hundred to one we won’t
need them at all,” Bert had said at the time.
“But if anything <i>should</i> come up where we’ll need
them, we’ll probably be mighty glad we brought
them.”</p>
<p>The boys were very thankful for this now, as
without the trusty little weapons their adventure
would have been sheer madness. As it was, however,
the feel of the compact .45’s was very reassuring,
and they felt that they would at least have
a fighting chance, if worse came to worst, and
they were forced to battle for their lives.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span></p>
<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII">CHAPTER XIII</a></h2>
<h3><span class="smcap">The Hunting Wolves</span></h3>
<p class="cap">They advanced more cautiously now, with
every sense alert to detect the first sign of
any lurking savage. They had not proceeded far
in this manner when Bert, who was slightly in the
lead, motioned with his hand in back of him for
them to stop. This they did, almost holding their
breath the while, trying to make out what Bert
had seen or heard. For several seconds he stood
the very picture of attention and concentration,
and then turned to them.</p>
<p>“What is it, Bert, do you see anything?” inquired
Dick, in a subdued but tense whisper.</p>
<p>“Not a thing as yet,” answered Bert, in the
same tone, “but I thought I smelled smoke, and
if I did, there must be a camp-fire of some kind
not very far away. Don’t you fellows smell it?”</p>
<p>Both sniffed the air, and as a slight breeze suddenly
blew against their faces, Tom said, “Gee,
Bert, I smell it now!”</p>
<p>“So do I!” said Dick, almost at the same instant,
and the hearts of all three began to beat
hard. They had evidently trailed the party of
savages to their camp, and now they had something<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span>
of the feeling of the lion hunter who suddenly
comes unexpectedly upon his quarry and is
not quite certain what to do with it when cornered.
Needless to say, they had never faced any
situation like this before, and it is not to be wondered
at if they felt a little nervous over attempting
to take a prisoner out from the midst of a
savage camp, not even knowing what might be the
force or numbers of the enemy they would have
to cope with.</p>
<p>This feeling was but momentary, however, and
almost immediately gave place to a fierce excitement
and a wild exultation at the prospect of danger
and conflict against odds. Each knew the
others to be true and staunch to their heart’s core,
and as much to be relied on as himself. They felt
sure that at least they were capable of doing as
much or more than anybody else under the circumstances,
and so the blood pounded through
their veins and their eyes sparkled and danced as
they drew together to hold a “council of war.”</p>
<p>There was little to be discussed, however, as
they all three felt that the only thing to do was to
“face the music and see the thing through to the
finish,” as Bert put it.</p>
<p>Accordingly they shook hands, and drew their
revolvers, so as to be ready for any emergency
at a moment’s notice. Then, with Bert once more
in the lead, they took up their interrupted march.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span>
For all the noise they made, they might have
been the savages themselves. Their early training
in camp and field now proved invaluable, and
not a twig cracked or a leaf rustled at their cautious
approach. Soon a patch of light in front of
them indicated a break in the jungle, and they
crouched double as they advanced. Suddenly
Bert made a quick motion with his hand, and
darted like a streak into the underbrush at the
side of the trail. The others did likewise, and not
a moment too soon. A crackling of the undergrowth
cluttering the path announced the approach
of a considerable body of men, and in a
few moments the boys, from their place of concealment,
where they could look out from the
leafy underbrush with little chance of being seen,
saw a party of eight or ten dusky warriors pass
by, apparently bent on foraging, for each carried
a large bag slung over his shoulder.</p>
<p>They were big, splendidly built men, but their
faces indicated a very low order of intelligence.
Their features were large, coarse, and brutish,
and the boys were conscious of a shudder passing
over them as they thought of being at the mercy
of such creatures.</p>
<p>The savages seemed in a good humor just then,
however, for every once in a while they laughed
among themselves, evidently at something humorous
one of them was reciting. It was well for our<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span>
heroes that they were so, for otherwise they could
hardly have failed to notice signs of their recent
presence on the trail. Fortunately this did not
happen, however, and soon they were swallowed
up in the dense jungle.</p>
<p>Shortly afterward the boys emerged from their
places of concealment, and resumed their slow
advance. They were soon at the edge of the
clearing, and then halted to reconnoitre before
venturing further.</p>
<p>The savages were encamped in a natural hollow,
and had apparently made arrangements for
quite a protracted visit. They had constructed
rude huts or lean-tos of branches and leaves, scattered
at any place that seemed convenient. Naked
children shouted noisily as they played and rolled
on the green turf, and made such a noise that the
parrots in the woods were frightened, and flew
away with disgusted squawks.</p>
<p>In the center of the encampment were two huts
evidently constructed with more care than the
others, and around both were squatted sentries
with javelins lying on the ground within easy
reach.</p>
<p>“I’ll bet any money they are keeping their prisoner
in one of those shacks, fellows,” said Bert,
“but what do you suppose the other one is for?
It looks bigger than the others.”</p>
<p>“Oh, that’s probably the king’s palace,” said<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span>
Dick. “Compared to the rest of those hovels it
almost looks like one, at that.”</p>
<p>“That’s what it is, all right,” agreed Tom,
“but how are we going to tell which one is the
prisoner’s, and which the king’s? We don’t want
to go and rescue the wrong one, you know.”</p>
<p>“No danger of that,” said Bert. “All we’ve
got to do is to lie low a little while and see what’s
going on down there. We’ll find out how matters
stand soon enough.”</p>
<p>Accordingly, the trio concealed themselves as
best they could, and in whispers took council on
the best means of bringing about the release of
the captive.</p>
<p>This proved a knotty problem, however, and
for a long while they seemed no nearer its solution.
It was Bert who finally proposed the plan
that they eventually followed.</p>
<p>“I think,” he said, “that we’d better get the
lay of the land securely in our eye, and then wait
till dark and make our attempt. We haven’t got
any chance otherwise, as far as I can see. It would
be nonsense to rush them in the broad light of
day, for we’d simply be killed or captured ourselves,
and that wouldn’t improve matters much.
There will be a full moon, almost, to-night, and
this clearing isn’t so big but what we might be
able to sneak from the shadow of the trees up
close to the two center huts. Then we could overpower<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span>
the sentries, if we have luck, and smuggle
the prisoner into the woods. Once there, we’ll
have to take our chance of keeping them off with
our revolvers, if they pursue and overtake us.
Can either of you think of a better plan than
that?”</p>
<p>It seemed that neither could, and so they resolved
to carry out Bert’s. Accordingly, they
kept their positions till the sun gradually sank,
and the shadows began to creep over the little
clearing. The night descended very quickly, however,
as it always does in tropical latitudes, but it
seemed an age to the impatient boys before the
jungle was finally enshrouded in inky shadows,
and it became time for them to make their desperate
attempt. Stealthy rustlings and noises occasionally
approached them as they lay, and more
than once they thought their hiding-place had
been discovered. At last, Bert decided that the
time had come to put their plan into action, and
they rose stealthily from their cramped position.
The prospect of immediate action was like a
strong stimulant to these three tried comrades,
and all thought of danger and possible, nay, even
probable, death, or what might be infinitely worse,
capture, was banished from their minds. They
had often craved adventure, and now they seemed
in a fair way to get their fill of it.</p>
<p>Quietly as cats they stole around the edge of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span>
the clearing, planting each footstep with infinite
care to avoid any possible sound. Once a loud
shouting arose from the camp, and they made
sure that they were discovered, and grasped their
revolvers tightly, resolved to sell their lives
dearly. It proved to be merely some disturbance
among the savages, however, and they ventured
to breathe again.</p>
<p>Foot by foot they skirted the clearing, guided
by the fitful and flickering light of the camp-fire,
and finally gained a position in what they judged
was about the rear of the two central huts.</p>
<p>Now there was nothing to do but wait until the
majority of the camp should fall asleep, and this
proved the most trying ordeal they had yet experienced.
At first groups of boisterous children
approached their place of concealment, and more
than once their hearts leapt into their mouths as
it seemed inevitable that they would be discovered
by them. As luck would have it, however, the
children decided to return to the fire, and so they
escaped at least one peril.</p>
<p>Gradually the noises of the camp diminished,
and the fire flickered and burnt low. It was now
the turn of the jungle insects, and they struck up
a chorus that seemed deafening. Also, the mosquitoes
issued forth in swarms, and drove the
three boys almost frantic, for they did not dare
to change their positions or make any effort to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span>
ward off the humming pests, as the noise entailed
in doing so would have been almost certain to
betray them.</p>
<p>There is an end to the longest wait, however,
and at Bert’s low whisper they crept toward the
two huts they had marked in the center of the
village. The moon was not yet high over the
trees, and threw thick patches of inky blackness,
that served our three adventurers well.</p>
<p>At times they could hardly make out each
other’s forms, so deep were the shadows, and
they breathed a prayer of thankfulness for this
aid.</p>
<p>The shadows fell at least ten feet short of the
huts, however, and across this open space it was
evident they would have to dash and take their
chances of being seen.</p>
<p>As they had watched from the woods earlier
in the evening, they had seen that the guard
around the huts consisted of two men for each.
The huts were perhaps forty feet apart, and this
made it possible for them to attack the sentries
guarding the one in which the prisoner was confined
without necessarily giving the alarm to those
about the other shack.</p>
<p>The boys were near enough to the dusky sentries
now to hear their voices as they exchanged
an occasional guttural remark. Bert touched the
other two lightly, and they stopped. “I’ll take<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span>
the fellow nearest the fire,” he breathed, “you
two land on the other one. Club him with your
revolvers, but whatever you do, don’t let him
make a sound, or we’re gone for sure. Understand?”</p>
<p>“Sure,” they whispered, and all prepared to do
their parts. At a whispered word from Bert, they
dashed with lightning speed across the patch of
moonlight, and before the astonished sentries
could utter a cry were upon them like so many
whirlwinds. Bert grasped the man he had selected
by the throat, and dealt him a stunning
blow on the head with the butt of his revolver.
The blow would have crushed the skull of any
white man, but it seemed hardly to stun the thickheaded
savage. He wriggled and squirmed, and
Bert felt his arm go back toward the sash round
his waist, feeling for the wicked knife that these
savages always wore.</p>
<p>Bert dared not let go of his opponent’s throat,
as he knew that one cry would probably ring their
death knell. He retained his grasp on his enemy’s
windpipe, therefore, but dropped his revolver
and grasped the fellow’s wrist. They wrestled
and swayed, writhing this way and that, but
fortunately the soft moss and turf under them
deadened the sound of their struggles.</p>
<p>Bert had met his match that night, however,
and, strain as he might, he felt his opponent’s<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span>
hand creeping nearer and nearer the deadly knife.
He realized that his strength could not long withstand
the terrific strain put upon it, and he resolved
to make one last effort to beat the savage
at his own game. Releasing the fellow’s sinewy
wrist, he made a lightning-like grasp for the hilt
of the knife, and his fingers closed over it a fraction
of a second ahead of those of the black man.
Eluding the latter’s frantic grasp at his wrist, he
plunged the keen and heavy knife into the shoulder
of his opponent. Something thick and warm
gushed over his hand, and he felt the muscles of
his enemy go weak. Whether dead or unconscious
only, he was for the time being harmless. Bert
himself was so exhausted that for a few moments
he lay stretched at full length on the earth, unable
to move or think.</p>
<p>In a few moments his strong vitality asserted
itself, however, and he gathered strength enough
to go to the assistance of his comrades. It was
not needed, though, for they had already choked
the remaining guard into unconsciousness.</p>
<p>They waited a few moments breathlessly, to
see if the noise, little as it had been, had aroused
the rest of the camp. Apparently it had not, and
they resolved to enter the hut without further loss
of time.</p>
<p>This was accomplished with little difficulty, and
they were soon standing in the interior of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span>
shack, which was black as any cave. The boys
had feared that there would be another guard in
the place, who might give the alarm before he
could be overpowered, but they now saw that this
fear had been groundless.</p>
<p>A torch, stuck in a chink in the wall, smoked
and flared, and by its uncertain light they could
make out the form of a man bound securely to
one of the corner posts. He gazed at them without
saying a word, and seemed unable to believe
the evidence of his senses.</p>
<p>“What—what—how—” he stammered, but
Bert cut him short.</p>
<p>“Never mind talking now, old man,” he said.
“It’s a long story, and we’d better not wait to
talk now. We’re here, but it remains to be seen
if we ever get away, or become candidates for a
cannibal feast ourselves.”</p>
<p>“How did you get past the sentries?” asked
the prisoner.</p>
<p>“Well, we didn’t wait to get their consent, you
can bet on that,” returned Bert, “and I don’t
think, now that we <i>are</i> here, that they’ll offer any
objections to our leaving, either. But now, it’s
up to us to get you untied, and make a quick sneak.
Somebody’s liable to come snooping around here
almost any time, I suppose.”</p>
<p>“You may be sure we can’t leave any too soon
to suit me,” said the captive. “I believe, from<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span>
all that I have been able to gather from their actions,
that I was to furnish the material for a meal
for the tribe to-morrow. They’re head hunters
and cannibals, and the more space I put between
them and me the better I shall be pleased.”</p>
<p>While he had been speaking, the boys had been
busily engaged in cutting the cords that bound
him, and now they assisted him to his feet. He
had been bound in one position so long, however,
that he could hardly stand at first, and Bert began
to fear that he would not be able to move.
After a few moments, however, his powers began
to come back to him, and in a few minutes he
seemed able to walk.</p>
<p>“All right, fellows, I guess we won’t wait to
pay our respects to the king,” said Bert. “Let’s
get started. Do you feel able to make a dash
now?” he inquired, addressing the erstwhile
prisoner.</p>
<p>The latter signified that he was, and they prepared
to leave without further discussion. When
they got outside, they found that they were favored
by a great piece of good fortune. The
moon was now in such a position that it threw the
shadow of a particularly tall tree almost to the
hut, and they quickly made for the welcome security
it offered. They made as little noise as possible,
but their companion was less expert in the
ways of the woods than they, and more than once<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span>
slipped and fell, making a disturbance that the
boys felt sure would be heard by someone in the
camp.</p>
<p>Fate was kind to them, however, and at last
they reached the shelter of the woods without apparently
having given the savages any cause for
suspicion. Once well in the jungle, they felt justified
in making more speed without bothering so
much about the noise. After a little trouble they
found the trail that they had followed to the
camp, and started back toward the coast with the
best speed they could muster.</p>
<p>In the dense shadows cast by the arching trees
they could hardly see a foot ahead of them, and
continually stumbled, tripped, and fell over the
roots and creepers in their path.</p>
<p>Their progress became like a horrible nightmare,
in which one is unable to make any headway
in fleeing from a pursuing danger, no matter
how hard one tries. They were haunted by the
fear of hearing the yell of the savages in pursuit,
for they knew that if they were overtaken, here
in the narrow path, in pitch darkness, they would
be slaughtered by an unseen enemy without the
chance to fight. The experienced savages could
come at them from all sides through the forest,
and have them at a terrible disadvantage.</p>
<p>“If we can only make that rocky little hill we
passed coming to this infernal place, fellows,”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span>
panted Bert, “we can stay there till daylight, and
at least make a fight for our lives. If they should
catch us here now, they could butcher us like
rats in a trap.”</p>
<p>In compliance with these words, they made desperate
efforts to hurry their pace, and were beginning
to pluck up hope. Suddenly their hearts
stood still, and then began to beat furiously.</p>
<p>Far behind them in the mysterious, deadly jungle,
they heard a weird, eerie shrill cry.</p>
<p>“What was it? What was it?” whispered
Tom, in a low, horror-struck voice.</p>
<p>The man whom they had freed made one or
two efforts to speak, but his words refused to
come at first. Then he said, in a dry, hard voice,
“I know what it is. That was the cry their hunting
wolves give when they are on the trail of their
quarry. May heaven help us now, for we are
dead men.”</p>
<p>“Hunting wolves?” said Bert, in a strained
voice, “what do you mean?”</p>
<p>“They’re three big wolves the savages captured
at some time, and they have trained them
to help run down game in the hunt, the same as
we have trained dogs. Only these brutes are far
worse than any dog, and a thousand times more
savage. If they get us—” but here his voice
trailed down into silence, for again they heard
that fierce cry, but this time much nearer.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span></p>
<p>The little party broke into a desperate run, and
blundered blindly, frantically forward. The mysterious,
danger-breathing jungle surrounding
them on every side, the horrible pursuit closing in
on them from behind, caused their hair to rise
with an awful terror that lent wings to their feet.
They stumbled, fell, picked themselves and each
other up again, and hastened madly forward in
their wild race.</p>
<p>“If we can only make it, if we can only make
it,” Bert repeated over and over to himself, while
the breath came in great sobbing gasps from between
his lips. He was thinking of their one last
chance of safety—the little knoll that he had
marked as they followed the savages’ trail the previous
day as a possible retreat if they were pursued.</p>
<p>Loud and weird came the baying of the beasts
on their trail, but Bert, straining his eyes ahead,
could make out a little patch of moonlight through
the trees.</p>
<p>“Faster, fellows, faster,” he gasped. “A little
further, and we’ll be there. Faster, faster!”</p>
<p>With a last despairing effort they dashed into
the clearing, which was flooded with silvery moonlight.
Now, at least, they would be able to see
and fight, and their natural courage came back to
them.</p>
<p>“Get up on that big rock in the center!” yelled<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span>
Bert, “for your lives, do you hear me? for your
lives!”</p>
<p>They scrambled madly up the huge boulder,
Bert helping them and being pulled up last by
Dick and Tom. Dropping on the flat top of the
rock, perhaps seven or eight feet from the ground,
they drew their revolvers and faced toward the
opening in the trees from which they had dashed
a few moments before.</p>
<p>Nor had they long to wait. From the jungle
rushed three huge wolves, forming such a spectacle
as none of the little party ever forgot to his
dying day. The hair bristled on their necks and
backs, and foam dropped from their jaws. As
they broke from the line of trees they gave utterance
once more to their blood-curdling bay, but
then caught sight of the men grouped on the big
boulder, and in terrible silence made straight for
them.</p>
<p>Without stopping they made a leap up the
steep sides of the rock. Almost at the same instant
the three revolvers barked viciously, and
one big brute dropped back, biting horribly at his
ribs, and then running around the little glade in
circles. The other two scrambled madly at the
rock, trying to get a foothold, and one grasped
Dick’s shoe in his teeth. A second later, however,
and before his jaws even had a chance to
close, the three guns spoke at once, and the animal<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span>
dropped quivering back upon the ground.
The third beast seemed somewhat daunted by the
fate of his comrades, and was moreover wounded
slightly himself. He dropped back and took up
a position about ten feet from the boys’ place of
refuge, and throwing back his head, gave utterance
to a dismal howl. Faintly, as though answering
him, the boys heard a yell, that they
knew could be caused by none but the savages
themselves.</p>
<p>It seemed hopeless to fight against such odds,
but these young fellows were not made of the
stuff that gives up easily. Where the spirit of
others might have sunk under such repeated trials,
theirs only became more stubborn and more determined
to overcome the heavy odds fate had
meted out to them.</p>
<p>Taking careful aim Bert fired at the remaining
wolf, and his bullet fulfilled its mission. The
brute dropped without a quiver, and Bert slid to
the ground.</p>
<p>“Come on, fellows,” he yelled, “get busy here
and help me build a fort. We’ve got to roll some
of these rocks into position in a little less than no
time, so we can give them an argument when they
arrive.”</p>
<p>“Oh, what’s the use?” said the man whom
they had rescued, in a hopeless voice. “We
haven’t got any chance against them. We might<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span>
as well surrender first as last, and take our chances
of escaping afterward.”</p>
<p>“Why, man, what are you talking about?”
said Dick, scornfully. “You don’t think we’re
going to give in without a struggle, do you, when
we have some shelter here and guns in our hands?
Not on your life, we won’t, and don’t you forget
it.”</p>
<p>“Well, I was just giving you my opinion, that’s
all,” said the man, who, it must be confessed,
spoke in a rather shamefaced manner. “We’re
sure to be butchered if we follow out your plan,
though, mark my words.”</p>
<p>“Well, we’ll at least send some of them to their
last accounting before they do get to us,” said
Bert. “Step lively, now, and help us, instead of
talking in that fool way.”</p>
<p>While this talk had been going on the boys had
rolled several big boulders up against the one
that had already offered them such timely aid, in
such a manner as to form a little enclosed space
or fort. In their excitement and pressing need
they accomplished feats of strength that under
ordinary circumstances they would not even have
attempted or believed possible.</p>
<p>Soon they had made every preparation they
could think of, and with set teeth and a resolve to
fight to the last gasp waited the coming of the
pursuing cannibals.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span></p>
<p>Soon they could hear them rushing through the
forest, exchanging deep-throated cries, and a few
moments later they burst into the clearing. When
they saw the preparations that had been made for
their reception, however, they paused, and some
pointed excitedly toward the three dead wolves.
It was evident that they had been more prepared
to see the mangled bodies of their erstwhile prisoner
and his rescuers, rather than what they actually
did find.</p>
<p>Bert, seeing that they were disconcerted, decided
to open hostilities. With a wild yell, he
started firing his revolver toward the closely-grouped
savages, taking careful aim with each
shot. A much poorer shot than Bert would have
had difficulty in missing such a mark, and every
bullet took deadly effect.</p>
<p>All at once panic seemed to seize on the savages,
and they rushed madly back into the jungle.
Of course, Bert wasted no more valuable ammunition
firing at an unseen enemy, and a breathless
hush fell over the scene.</p>
<p>At first the little party expected the savages to
renew the conflict, but the time wore slowly on
and nothing of the kind happened. They kept a
keen lookout to guard against a surprise, but none
was attempted.</p>
<p>At length dawn broke, and the sun had never
been so welcome to the boys as it was then.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span>
In the light of day their experience seemed like
an awful dream, or would have seemed so, had it
not been for the bodies of the three wolves.</p>
<p>The besieged party held a “pow-wow,” and as
it was clear that they could not stay where they
were indefinitely, they decided to make a break
for the ship without further delay.</p>
<p>After a careful reconnoitering of the path, they
ventured into it with many misgivings, but could
see no sign of the head hunters. They made the
best possible speed, and it was not very long before
they reached the beach.</p>
<p>Needless to say, the whole ship’s company had
been greatly worried over their absence, but their
relief was correspondingly great at their safe return.
The captain had reinforced Mr. Miller’s
complement of men with orders to go in search of
the three boys as soon as morning broke. He was
prepared to hold them strictly to account for what
he thought their rashness, but repressed his censure
when he heard their story. The boat was
swung inboard, the <i>Fearless</i> gathered way, and
the island receding to a point was soon lost to
sight in the distance.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span></p>
<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV">CHAPTER XIV</a></h2>
<h3><span class="smcap">The Land of Surprises</span></h3>
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="id0 cap">“Better fifty years of Europe<br /></span>
<span class="id0">Than a cycle of Cathay,”<br /></span>
</div></div>
<p class="noi">murmured Dick, yielding once more to his chronic
habit of quotation.</p>
<p>They had reached the gateway of Southern
China and cast anchor in the harbor of Hong-Kong.
It had been a day of great bustle and confusion,
and all hands had been kept busy from
the time the anchor chain rattled in the hawse-hole
until dusk began to creep over the waters of
the bay. The great cranes had groaned with
their loads as they swung up the bales and boxes
from the hold and transferred them to the lighters
that swarmed about the sides of the <i>Fearless</i>.
The passengers, eager once more to be on <i>terra
firma</i> after the long voyage, had gone ashore, and
the boat was left to the officers and crew. These
had been kept on board by the manifold duties
pertaining to their position, but were eagerly
looking forward to the morrow, when the coveted<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span>
shore leave would be granted in relays to the
crew, while the officers would be free to go and
come almost as they pleased. It was figured that
even with the greatest expedition in discharging
cargo and taking on the return shipments for the
“States,” it would be nearly or quite a week before
they began their return journey, and they
promised themselves in that interval to make the
most of their stay in this capital of the Oriental
commercial world.</p>
<p>Now, as dusk fell over the waters, the boys sat
at the rail and gazed eagerly at the strange sights
that surrounded them. The harbor was full of
shipping gathered from the four quarters of the
world. On every side great liners lay, ablaze
with light from every cabin and porthole. Native
junks darted about saucily here and there,
while queer yellow faces looked up at them from
behind the mats and lateen-rigged sails. The unforgettable
smells of an Eastern harbor assailed
their nostrils. The high pitched nasal chatter of
the boatmen wrangling or jesting, was unlike anything
they had ever before heard or imagined.
Everything was so radically different from all
their previous experiences that it seemed as though
they must have kneeled on the magic carpet of
Solomon and been transported bodily to a new
world.</p>
<p>Before them lay the city itself glowing with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span>
myriad lights. The British concession with its
splendid buildings, its immense official residences,
its broad boulevards, might have been a typical
European city set down in these strange Oriental
surroundings. But around and beyond this lay
the real China, almost as much untouched and
uninfluenced by these modern developments as it
had been for centuries. Great hills surrounded
the city on every side, and temples and pagodas
uprearing their quaint sloping roofs indicated the
location of the original native quarters. In the
distance they could see the lights of the little
cable railway that carried passengers to the
heights from which they could obtain a magnificent
view of the harbor and the surrounding
country.</p>
<p>The ship’s doctor had come up just as Dick had
finished his quotation.</p>
<p>“Yes,” he assented, as he lit a fresh cigar and
drew his chair into the center of the group. “The
poet might have gone further than that and intimated
that even one year of Europe would be better
than a ‘cycle of Cathay.’ There’s more progress
ordinarily in a single year among Europeans
than there is here in twenty centuries.”</p>
<p>They gladly made room for him. The doctor
was a general favorite and a cosmopolitan in all
that that word implies. He seemed to have been
everywhere and seen everything. In the course<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span>
of his profession he had been all over the world,
and knew it in every nook and corner. He had a
wealth of interesting experiences, and had the gift
of telling them, when in congenial company, in so
vivid and graphic a way, that it made the hearer
feel as though he himself had taken part in the
events narrated.</p>
<p>“Of course,” went on the doctor, “it all depends
on the point of view. If progress is a good
thing, we have the advantage of the Chinese. If
it is a bad thing, they have the advantage of us.
Now, they say it is a bad thing. With them ‘whatever
is is right.’ Tradition is everything. What
was good enough for their parents is good enough
for them. They live entirely in the past. They
cultivate the ground in the same way and with
the same implements that their fathers did two
thousand years ago. To change is to offend the
gods. All modern inventions are devices of the
devil. Every event in their whole existence is
governed by cut and dried rules. From the moment
of birth to that of death, life moves along
one fixed groove. They don’t want railroads or
telephones or phonographs or machinery or anything
else that to us seems a necessity of life.
Whatever they have of these has been forced
upon them by foreigners. A little while ago they
bought up a small railroad that the French had
built, paid a big advance on the original price, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span>
then threw rails and locomotives into the sea.”</p>
<p>“Even our ‘high finance’ railroad wreckers in
Wall Street wouldn’t go quite as far as that,”
laughed Tom.</p>
<p>“No,” smiled the doctor, “they’d do it just as
effectively, but in a different way.”</p>
<p>“And yet,” interposed Dick, “the Chinese
don’t seem to me to be a stupid race. We had one
or two in our College and they were just as bright
as anyone there.”</p>
<p>“They’re not stupid by any means,” replied the
doctor. “There was a time, thousands of years
ago, when they were the very leaders of civilization.
They had their inventors and their experimenters.
Why, they found out all about gunpowder
and printing and the mariner’s compass, when
Europe was sunk in the lowest depths of ignorance.
At that time, the intellect of the people
was active and productive. But then they seem
to have had a stroke of paralysis, and they’ve
never gotten over it.”</p>
<p>“It always seemed to me,” said Bert, “that
‘Alice in Wonderland’ should really have been
called ‘Alice in China-land.’ She and her mad
hatter and the March hare and the Cheshire cat
would certainly have felt at home here.”</p>
<p>“True enough,” rejoined the doctor. “It isn’t
without reason that this has been called ‘Topsy-turvy’
land.”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span></p>
<p>“For instance,” he went on, “you could never
get into a Chinaman’s head what Shakespeare
meant when he said: ‘A rose by any other name
would smell as sweet.’ The roses in China have
no fragrance.</p>
<p>“Take some other illustrations. When we
give a banquet, the guest of honor is seated at the
right of the host as a special mark of distinction.
In China, he is placed at the left. If you meet a
friend in the street, out goes your hand in greeting.
The Chinaman shakes hands with himself.
If an American or European is perplexed about
anything he scratches his head. When the Chinaman
is puzzled, he scratches his foot.”</p>
<p>The comicality of this idea was too much for
the gravity of the boys—never very hard to upset
at any time—and they roared with laughter.
Their laugh was echoed more moderately by Captain
Manning, who, relieved at last of the many
duties attendant upon the first day in port, had
come up behind them and now joined the group.
The necessity of keeping up the strain and dignity
of his official position had largely disappeared
with the casting of the anchor, and it was more
with the easy democracy and good fellowship of
the ordinary passenger that he joined in the conversation.</p>
<p>“They have another queer custom in China
that bears right on the doctor’s profession,” he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span>
said, with a sly twinkle in his eye. “Here they
employ a doctor by the year, but they only pay
him as long as the employer keeps well. The
minute he gets sick, the doctor’s salary ceases, and
he has to work like sixty to get him well in a
hurry, so that his pay may be resumed.”</p>
<p>“Well,” retorted the doctor, “I don’t know
but they have the better of us there. It is certainly
an incentive to get the patient well at once,
instead of spinning out the case for the sake of a
bigger fee. I know a lot of fashionable doctors
whose income would go down amazingly if that
system were introduced in America.”</p>
<p>“You’ll find, too,” said the captain, “that the
Chinaman’s idea of what is good to eat is almost
as different from ours as their other conceptions.
There’s just about one thing in which they agree
with us, and that is on the question of pork. They
are very fond of this, and you have all read, no
doubt, the story told by Charles Lamb of the Chinese
peasant whose cabin was burned, together
with a pig who had shared it with the family. His
despair at the loss of the pig was soon turned to
rejoicing when he smelled the savory odor of
roast pork and learned for the first time how good
it was. But, outside of that, we don’t have much
in common. They care very little for beef or mutton.
To make up for this, however, they have
made a good many discoveries in the culinary line<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span>
that they regard as delicacies, but that you won’t
find in any American cook book. Rats and mice
and edible birds’ nests and shark fins are served
in a great variety of ways, and those foreigners
who have had the courage to wade through the
whole Chinese bill of fare say it is surprising to
find out how good it is. After all, you can get
used to anything, and we Europeans and Americans
are becoming broader in our tastes than we
used to be. Horse meat is almost as common as
beef in Berlin; dogs are not disdained in some
parts of France, and only the other day I read of
a banquet in Paris where they served stuffed angleworms
and pronounced them good.”</p>
<p>“I imagine it will be a good while, however,
before we get to the point where rats and mice
are served in our restaurants,” said Tom, with a
grimace.</p>
<p>“Yes,” rejoined the captain, “we’ll probably
draw the line there and never step over it. But
you’ll have a chance pretty soon to sample Chinese
cooking, and if you ask no questions and eat
what is set before you, you will probably find it
surprisingly good. ‘What the eye doesn’t see the
heart doesn’t grieve over,’ you know. And when
you come to the desserts, you will find that there
are no finer sweetmeats in the world than those
served at Chinese tables.”</p>
<p>“Another thing that seems queer to us Western<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span>
people,” said the doctor, “is their idea of the
seat of intellect. We regard it as the head. They
place it in the stomach. If the Chinaman gets off
what he thinks to be a witty thing, he pats his
stomach in approval.”</p>
<p>“I suppose when his head is cut off, he still goes
on thinking,” grinned Tom.</p>
<p>“That wouldn’t phase a Chinaman for a minute,”
answered the doctor. “He’d retort by asking
you if you’d go on thinking if they cut you in
half.”</p>
<p>“Then, if you wanted to praise a Chinese author,
I suppose, instead of alluding to his ‘bulging
brow,’ it would be good form to refer to his
‘bulging stomach,’” laughed Ralph.</p>
<p>“Gee,” put in Tom, “if that were so, I’ve seen
some fat people in the side shows at the circus
that would have it all over Socrates.”</p>
<p>“There’s one thing,” went on the doctor,
“where they set us an example that we well might
follow, and that is in the tolerance they have for
the religious views of other people. There isn’t
any such thing as persecution or ostracism in
China on the score of religious belief. There are
three or four religions and all are viewed with
approval and kindly toleration. A man, for instance,
will meet several strangers in the course
of business or of travel, and they will fall into
conversation. It is etiquette to ask the religious<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span>
belief of your new acquaintances, so our Chinaman
asks the first of them: ‘Of what religion are
you?’ ‘I practice the maxims of Confucius,’ is
the response. ‘Very good, and you?’ turning to
the second. ‘I am a follower of Lao-tze.’ The
third answers that he is a Buddhist, and the first
speaker winds up the conversation on this point
by shaking hands—with himself—and genially
remarking: ‘Ah, well, we are all brothers after
all.’”</p>
<p>“They certainly have the edge on us there,”
remarked Bert. “I wish we had a little of that
spirit in our own country. We could stand a lot
more of it than we have.”</p>
<p>“Outside of the question of religion, however,”
went on the doctor, “we might think that they
carry politeness too far to suit our mode of thinking.
If you should meet a friend and ask after
the health of his family, you would be expected
to say something like this: ‘And how is your brilliant
and distinguished son, the light of your eyes
and future hope of your house, getting on?’ To
this your friend would probably reply: ‘That low
blackguard and detestable dog that for my sorrow
is called my son is in good health, but does
not deserve that your glorious highness should
deign to ask about him.’”</p>
<p>“You will notice,” said the captain when the
laugh had subsided, “that the doctor uses the son<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span>
as an illustration. The poor daughter wouldn’t
even be inquired about. She is regarded as her
father’s secret sorrow, inflicted upon him by a
malignant decree of fate. In a commercial sense,
the boy is an asset; the girl is a liability. You
hear it said sometimes, with more or less conviction,
that the world we live in is a ‘man’s world.’
However that may be modified or denied elsewhere,
it is the absolute truth as regards China.
If the scale of a nation’s civilization is measured
by the way it treats its women,—and I believe
this to be true,—then the Celestial Kingdom ranks
among the very lowest. From the time she comes,
unwelcomed, into the world, until, unmourned, she
leaves it, her life is not worth living. She is the
slave of the household, and, in the field, she pulls
the plough while the man holds the handles. In
marriage, she is disposed of without the slightest
reference to her own wishes, but wholly at the
whim of her parents, and often sees the bridegroom’s
face for the first time when he comes to
take her to his own house. There she is as much a
slave as before. Her husband can divorce her
for the most flimsy reasons and she has no redress.
No, it isn’t ‘peaches and cream’ to be a
woman in China.”</p>
<p>“It doesn’t seem exactly a paradise of suffragettes,”
murmured Ralph.</p>
<p>“No,” interjected Tom, “the Government<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span>
here doesn’t have to concern itself about ‘hunger
strikes’ or ‘forcible feeding.’”</p>
<p>“To atone to some extent for this hateful feature
of family life,” said the doctor, “they have
another that is altogether admirable, and that is
the respect shown to parents. In no country of
the world is filial reverence so fully displayed as
here. A disobedient son is almost unthinkable,
and a murderer would scarcely be regarded with
more disapproval. From birth to old age, the
son looks upon his father with humility and reverence,
and worships him as a god after he is
dead. There is nothing of the flippancy with
which we are too familiar in our own country.
With us the ‘child is father of the man,’ or, if
he isn’t, he wants to be. Here the man always
remains the father of the child.”</p>
<p>“Yes,” said Bert, “I remember in Bill Nye’s
story of his early life he says that at the age of
four ‘he took his parents by the hand and led
them out to Colorado.’”</p>
<p>“And that’s no joke,” put in the captain. “All
the foreigners that visit our country are struck by
the independent attitude of children to their
parents.”</p>
<p>“Another thing we have to place to the credit
of this remarkable people,” he went on, “is their
love for education. The scholar is held in universal
esteem. The road to learning is also the road
to the highest honors of the State. Every position<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span>
is filled by competitive examinations, and the
one who has the highest mark gets the place. Of
course their idea of education is far removed
from ours. There is no attempt to develop the
power of original thinking, but simply to become
familiar with the teaching and wisdom of the
past. Still, with all its defects, it stands for the
highest that the nation knows, and they crown
with laurels the men who rise to the front rank.
Of course they wouldn’t compare for a moment
with the great scholars of the Western world.
Still, you know, ‘in a nation of the blind, the one-eyed
man is king,’ and their scholars stand out
head and shoulders above the general level, and
are reverenced accordingly.”</p>
<p>“I suppose that system of theirs explains why
the civil service in our own country is slightingly
referred to as the ‘Chinese’ civil service by disgruntled
politicians,” said Ralph.</p>
<p>“Yes,” said the captain, “and speaking of politicians,
our Chinese friends could give us cards
and spades and beat us out at that game. They’re
the smoothest and slickest set of grafters in the
world. Why, the way they work it here would
make our ward politicians turn green with envy.
We’re only pikers compared with these fellows.
Graft is universal all through China. It taints
every phase of the national life. Justice is bought
and sold like any commodity and with scarcely a
trace of shame or concealment. The only concern<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span>
the mandarin has with the case brought before
him is as to which side will make him the richest
present. It is a case of the longest purse and little
else. Then after a man has been sent to prison,
the jailer must be paid to make his punishment as
light as possible. If he is condemned to death,
the executioner must be paid to do his work as
painlessly and quickly as he can. At every turn
and corner the grafter stands with his palm held
out, and unless you grease it well you might as
well abandon your cause at the start. You’re certainly
foredoomed to failure.”</p>
<p>“Well,” said Bert, “we’re badly enough off at
home in the matter of graft, but at least we have
some ‘chance for our white alley’ when we go
into a court of justice.”</p>
<p>“Yes,” assented the doctor, “of course a long
purse doesn’t hurt there, as everywhere else.
But, in the main, our judges are beyond the coarse
temptation of money bribes. We’ve advanced a
good deal from the time of Sir Francis Bacon,
that ‘brightest, wisest, <i>meanest</i> of mankind,’ who
not only accepted presents from suitors in cases
brought before him, but had the nerve to write a
pamphlet justifying the practice and claiming that
it didn’t affect his judgment.”</p>
<p>“What do you think of the present revolution
in China, doctor?” asked Dick. “Will it bring the
people more into sympathy with our way of looking
at things?”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span></p>
<p>He shook his head skeptically.</p>
<p>“No,” he answered, “to be frank I don’t. Between
us and the Chinese there is a great gulf
fixed, and I don’t believe it will ever be bridged.
The Caucasian and Mongolian races are wholly
out of sympathy. We look at everything from
opposite sides of the shield. We can no more mix
than oil and water.</p>
<p>“The white races made a mistake,” he went on
and the boys detected in his voice a strain of sombre
foreboding, “when they drew China out of
its shell and forced it to come in contact with the
modern world. It was a hermit nation and wanted
to remain so. All it asked was to be let alone.
It was a sleeping giant. Why did we wake him
up unless we wanted to tempt fate and court destruction?</p>
<p>“Not only that, but the giant had forgotten
how to fight. We’re teaching him how just as
fast as we can, and even sending European officers
to train and lead his armies. The giant’s
club was rotten and wormeaten. In its place,
we’re giving him Gatling guns and rifled artillery,
the finest in the world. We have forgotten
that Mongol armies have already overrun the
world and that they may do it again. We’re like
the fisherman in the ‘Arabian Nights’ who found
a bottle on the shore and learned that it held a
powerful genii. As long as he kept the bottle
corked he was safe. But he was foolish enough<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span>
to take out the cork, and the genii, escaping, became
as big as a mountain, and couldn’t be
squeezed back into the bottle. We’ve pulled the
cork that held the Chinese genii and we’ll never
get him back again. Think of four hundred million
people, a third of the population of the world,
conscious of their strength, equipped with modern
arms, trained in the latest tactics, able to live on
practically nothing, moving over Europe like a
swarm of devastating locusts! When some Chinese
Napoleon—and he may be already born—finds
such an army at his back—God help
Europe!”</p>
<p>He spoke with feeling, and a silence fell upon
them as they looked over the great city, and
thought of the thousands of miles and countless
millions of inhabitants that lay beyond. Did they
hear in imagination the gathering of shadowy
hosts, the tread of marching armies, and the distant
thunder of artillery? Or did they dimly
sense with that mysterious clairvoyance sometimes
vouchsafed to men that in a few days they
themselves would be at death grip with that invisible
“yellow peril” and barely win out with
their lives?</p>
<p>Dick shivered, though the night was warm.</p>
<p>“Come along, fellows,” he said, as the captain
and doctor walked away. “Let’s go to bed.”</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span></p>
<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV">CHAPTER XV</a></h2>
<h3><span class="smcap">The Dragon’s Claws</span></h3>
<p class="cap">The next morning the boys were up bright
and early, ready for their trip through the
city.</p>
<p>“By George,” said Dick, “I have to pinch myself
to realize that we’re really in China at last.
Until a month ago I never dreamed of seeing it.
As a matter of course I had hoped and expected
to go to Europe and possibly take in Egypt. That
seemed the regulation thing to do and it was the
limit of my traveling ambition. But as regards
Asia, I’ve never quite gotten over the feeling I
had when I was a kid. Then I thought that if I
dug a hole through the center of the earth I’d
come to China, and, since they were on the under
side of the world, I’d find the people walking
around upside down.”</p>
<p>“Well,” laughed Bert, “they’re upside down,
sure enough, mentally and morally, but physically
they don’t seem to be having any rush of
blood to the head.”</p>
<p>An electric launch was at hand, but they preferred
to take one of the native sampans that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span>
darted in and out among the shipping looking for
passengers. They hailed one and it came rapidly
to the side.</p>
<p>“See those queer little eyes on each side of the
bow,” said Tom. “I wonder what they’re for?”</p>
<p>“Why, so that the boat can see where it is going,”
replied Dick. “You wouldn’t want it to go
it blind and bump head first into the side, would
you?”</p>
<p>“And this in a nation that invented the mariner’s
compass,” groaned Tom. “How are the
mighty fallen!”</p>
<p>“And even that points to the south in China,
while everywhere else it points to the north. Can
you beat it?” chimed in Ralph.</p>
<p>“Even their names are contradictions,” said
Bert. “This place was originally called ‘Hiang-Kiang,’
‘the place of sweet waters.’ But do you
catch any whiff here that reminds you of ottar of
roses or the perfume wafted from ‘Araby the
blest?’”</p>
<p>“Well, not so you could notice it,” responded
Ralph, as the awful smells of the waterside forced
themselves on their unwilling nostrils.</p>
<p>They speedily reached the shore and handed
double fare to the parchment-faced boatman, who
chattered volubly.</p>
<p>“What do you suppose he’s saying?” asked
Tom.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span></p>
<p>“Heaven knows,” returned Ralph; “thanking
us, probably. And yet he may be cursing us as
‘foreign devils,’ and consigning us to perdition.
That’s one of the advantages of speaking in the
toughest language on earth for an outsider to
master.”</p>
<p>“It is fierce, isn’t it?” assented Bert. “I’ve
heard that it takes about seven years of the hardest
kind of study to learn to speak or read it, and
even then you can’t do it any too well. Some
simply can’t learn it at all.”</p>
<p>“Well,” said Tom, “I can’t conceive of any
worse punishment than to have to listen to it, let
alone speak it. Good old United States for
mine.”</p>
<p>At the outset they found themselves in the English
quarter. It was a splendid section of the city,
with handsome buildings and well-kept streets,
and giving eloquent testimony to the colonizing
genius of the British empire. Here England had
entrenched herself firmly, and from this as a
point of departure, her long arm stretched out
to the farthest limits of the Celestial Kingdom.
She had made the place a modern Gibraltar, dominating
the waters of the East as its older prototype
held sway over the Mediterranean. Everywhere
there were evidences of the law and order
and regulated liberty that always accompany the
Union Jack, and that explains why a little island<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span>
in the Western Ocean rules a larger part of the
earth’s surface than any other power.</p>
<p>“We’ve certainly got to hand it to the English,”
said Ralph. “They’re the worst hated nation
in Europe, and yet as colonizers the whole
world has to take off its hat to them. Look at
Egypt and India and Canada and Australia and
a score of smaller places. No wonder that Webster
was impressed by it when he spoke of the
‘drum-beat that, following the sun and keeping
pace with the hours, encircled the globe with the
martial airs of England.’”</p>
<p>“It’s queer, too, why it is so,” mused Bert.
“If they were specially genial and adaptable, you
could understand it. But, as a rule, they’re cold
and arrogant and distant, and they don’t even try
to get in touch with the people they rule. Now
the French are far more sympathetic and flexible,
but, although they have done pretty well in Algiers
and Tonquin and Madagascar, they don’t
compare with the British as colonizers.”</p>
<p>“Well,” rejoined Ralph, “I suppose the real
explanation lies in their tenacity and their sense
of justice. They may be hard but they are just,
and the people after a while realize that their
right to life and property will be protected, and
that in their courts the poor have almost an equal
chance with the rich. But when all’s said and
done, I guess we’ll simply have to say that they<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span>
have the genius for colonizing and let it go at
that.”</p>
<p>“Speaking of justice and fair play, though,”
said Bert, “there’s one big blot on their record,
and that is the way they have forced the opium
traffic on China. The Chinese as a rule are a temperate
race, but there seems to be some deadly
attraction for them in opium that they can’t resist.
It is to them what ‘firewater’ is to the Indian.
The rulers of China realized how it was
destroying the nation and tried to prohibit its importation.
But England saw a great source of
revenue threatened by this reform, as most of the
opium comes from the poppy grown in India. So
up she comes with her gunboats, this Christian
nation, and fairly forces the reluctant rulers to
let in the opium under threat of bombardment if
they refused. To-day the habit has grown to
enormous proportions. It is the curse of China,
and the blame for the debauchery of a whole nation
lies directly at the door of England and
no one else.”</p>
<p>By this time they had passed through the British
section and found themselves in the native
quarter. Here at last they were face to face with
the real China. They had practically been in
Europe; a moment later and they were in Asia.
A new world lay before them.</p>
<p>The streets were very narrow, sometimes not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span>
more than eight or ten feet in width. A man
standing at a window on one side could leap into
one directly opposite. They were winding as well
as narrow, and crowded on both sides with tiny
shops in which merchants sat beside their wares
or artisans plied their trade. Before each shop
was a little altar dedicated to the god of wealth,
a frank admission that here, as in America, they
all worshipped the “Almighty Dollar.” Flaunting
signs, on which were traced dragons and other
fearsome and impossible beasts, hung over the
store entrances.</p>
<p>“My,” said Ralph, “this would be a bad place
for a heavy drinker to find himself in suddenly.
He’d think he ‘had ’em’ sure. Pink giraffes and
blue elephants wouldn’t be a circumstance to some
of these works of art.”</p>
<p>“Right you are,” assented Tom. “I’ll bet if
the truth were known the Futurist and Cubist
painters, that are making such a splurge in America
just now, got their first tips from just such
awful specimens as these.”</p>
<p>“Well, these narrow streets have one advantage
over Fifth Avenue,” said Ralph. “No automobile
can come along here and propel you into
another world.”</p>
<p>“No,” laughed Bert, “if the ‘Gray Ghost’
tried to get through here, it would carry away
part of the houses on each side of the street. The<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span>
worst thing that can run over us here is a wheelbarrow.”</p>
<p>“Or a sedan chair,” added Tom, as one of
these, bearing a passenger, carried by four stalwart
coolies, brushed against him.</p>
<p>A constant din filled the air as customers bargained
with the shop-keepers over the really beautiful
wares displayed on every hand. Rare silks
and ivories and lacquered objects were heaped in
rich profusion in the front of the narrow stalls,
and their evident value stood out in marked contrast
to the squalid surroundings that served as a
setting.</p>
<p>“No ‘one price’ here, I imagine,” said Ralph,
as the boys watched the noisy disputes between
buyer and seller.</p>
<p>“No,” said Bert. “To use a phrase that our
financiers in America are fond of, they put on
‘all that the traffic will bear.’ I suppose if you
actually gave them what they first asked they’d
throw a fit or drop dead. I’d hate to take the
chance.”</p>
<p>“It would be an awful loss, wouldn’t it?”
asked Tom sarcastically, as he looked about at
the immense crowd swarming like bees from a
hive. “Where could they find anyone to take his
place?”</p>
<p>“There are quite a few, aren’t there?” said
Ralph. “The mystery is where they all live and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span>
sleep. There don’t seem to be enough houses in
the town to take care of them all.”</p>
<p>“No,” remarked Bert, “but what the town
lacks in the way of accommodations is supplied
by the river. Millions of the Chinese live in the
boats along the rivers, and at night you can see
them pouring down to the waterside in droves.
A white man needs a space six feet by two when
he’s dead, but a Chinaman doesn’t need much
more than that while he is alive. A sardine has
nothing on him when it comes to saving space
and packing close.”</p>
<p>At every turn their eyes were greeted with
something new and strange. Here a wandering
barber squatted in the street and carried on his
trade as calmly as though in a shop of his own.
Tinkers mended pans, soothsayers told fortunes,
jugglers and acrobats held forth to delighted
crowds, snake charmers put their slimy pets
through a bewildering variety of exhibitions.
Groups of idlers played fan-tan and other games
of chance, and through the waving curtains of
queerly painted booths came at times the acrid
fumes of opium. Mingled with these were the
odors of cooking, some repellant and some appetizing,
which latter reminded the boys that it was
getting toward noon and their healthy appetites
began to assert themselves. They looked at each
other.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span></p>
<p>“Well,” said Ralph, “how about the eats?”</p>
<p>“I move that we have some,” answered Tom.</p>
<p>“Second the motion,” chimed in Dick.</p>
<p>“Carried unanimously,” added Bert, “but
where?”</p>
<p>“Perhaps we would better get back to the
English quarter,” suggested Ralph. “There are
some restaurants there as good as you can find in
New York or London.”</p>
<p>“Not for mine,” said Tom. “We can do that
at any time, but it isn’t often we’ll have a chance
to eat in a regular Chinese restaurant. Let’s take
our courage in our hands and go into the next
one here we come to. It’s all in a lifetime. Come
along.”</p>
<p>“Tom’s right,” said Dick. “Let’s shut our
eyes and wade in. It won’t kill us, and we’ll have
one more experience to look back upon. So ‘lead
on, MacDuff.’”</p>
<p>Accordingly they all piled into the next queer
little eating-house they came to, but not before
they had agreed among themselves that they
would take the whole course from “soup to
nuts,” no matter what their stomachs or their
noses warned them against. A suave, smiling
Chinaman seated them with many profound bows
at a quaint table, on which were the most delicate
of plates and the most tiny and fragile of cups.
They had of course to depend on signs, but they<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span>
made him understand that they wanted a full
course dinner, and that they left the choice of the
food to him. They had no cause to regret this,
for, despite their misgivings, the dinner was surprisingly
good. The shark-fin soup was declared
by Ralph to be equal to terrapin. They fought a
little shy of indulging heartily in the meat, especially
after Bert had mischievously given a tiny
squeak that made Tom turn a trifle pale; but in
the main they stuck manfully to their pledge, and,
to show that they were no “pikers” but “game
sports,” tasted at least something of each ingredient
set before them. And when they came to
the dessert, they gave full rein to their appetites,
for it was delicious. Candied fruits and raisins
and nuts were topped off with little cups of the
finest tea that the boys had ever tasted. They
paid their bill and left the place with a much
greater respect for Chinese cookery than they
had ever expected to entertain.</p>
<p>The afternoon slipped away as if by magic in
these new and fascinating surroundings. They
wove in and out among the countless shops, picking
up souvenirs here and there, until their pockets
were much heavier and their purses correspondingly
lighter. Articles were secured for a
song that would have cost them ten times as much
in any American city, if indeed they could be
bought at all. The ivory carvers, workers in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span>
jade, silk dealers, painters of rice-paper pictures,
porcelain and silver sellers—all these were many
<i>cash</i> richer by the time the boys, tired but delighted,
turned back to the shore and were conveyed
to the <i>Fearless</i>.</p>
<p>“Well,” smiled the doctor, as they came up
the side, “how did you enjoy your first day
ashore in China?”</p>
<p>“Simply great,” responded Bert, enthusiastically,
while the others concurred. “I never had
so many new sensations crowding upon me at
one time in all my whole life before. As a matter
of fact I’m bewildered by it yet. I suppose
it will be some days before I can digest it and
have a clear recollection of all we’ve seen and
done to-day.”</p>
<p>“Yes,” said the doctor, “but, even yet, you
haven’t seen the real China. Hong-Kong is so
largely English that even the native quarter is
more or less influenced by it. Now, Canton is
Chinese through and through. Although of
course there are foreign residents there, they
form so small a part of the population that they
are practically nil. It’s only about seventy miles
away, and I’m going down there to-morrow on a
little business of my own. How would you fellows
like to come along? Provided, of course,
that the captain agrees.”</p>
<p>Needless to say the boys agreed with a shout,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span>
and the consent of the captain was readily obtained.</p>
<p>“How shall we go?” asked Ralph.</p>
<p>“What’s the matter with taking the ‘Gray
Ghost’ along?” put in Tom.</p>
<p>The doctor shook his head.</p>
<p>“No,” said he. “That would be all right if
the roads were good. Of course they’re fine here
in the city and for a few miles out. But beyond
that they’re simply horrible. If it should be
rainy you’d be mired to the hubs, and even if the
weather keeps dry, the roads in places are mere
footpaths. They weren’t constructed with a
view to automobile riding.”</p>
<p>So they took an English river steamer the next
day, and before night reached the teeming city,
full of color and picturesque to a degree not attained
by any other coast city of the Empire.
Their time was limited and there was so much to
see that they scarcely knew where to begin. But
here again the vast experience of the doctor stood
them in good stead. Under his expert guidance
next day they visited the Tartar City, the Gate of
Virtue, the Flowery Pagoda, the Clepsydra or
Water Clock, the Viceroy’s Yamen, the City of
the Dead, and the Temple of the Five Hundred
Genii. The latter was a kind of Chinese “Hall
of Fame,” with images of the most famous statesmen,
soldiers, scholars, and philosophers that the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span>
country had produced. Before their shrines fires
were kept constantly burning, and the place was
heavy with the pungent odor of joss sticks and
incense.</p>
<p>They wound up with a visit to the execution
ground and the prisons, a vivid reminder of the
barbarism that foreign influence has as yet not
been able to modify to any great degree. The
boys were horrified at the devilish ingenuity displayed
by the Chinese in their system of punishment.</p>
<p>Here was a poor fellow condemned to the torture
of the cangue. This was a species of treebox
built about him with an opening at the neck
through which his head protruded. He stood
upon a number of thin slabs of wood. Every day
one of these was removed so that his weight
rested more heavily on the collar surrounding his
neck, until finally his toes failed to touch the wood
at the bottom and he hung by the neck until he
slowly strangled to death.</p>
<p>“Yes,” said the doctor, as the boys turned
away sickened by the sight, “there is no nation
so cruel and unfeeling as the Chinese. Scarcely
one of these that pass by indifferently, would save
this poor fellow if they could. They look unmoved
on scenes that would freeze the blood in
our veins.”</p>
<p>“This is bad enough,” he went on, “but it is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span>
nothing to some of the fiendish atrocities that
they indulge in. Their executioners could give
points on torture to a Sioux Indian.</p>
<p>“They have for instance what they call the
‘death of the thousand slices.’ They are such
expert anatomists that they can carve a man continuously
for hours without touching a vital spot.
They hang the victim on a kind of cross and cut
slices from every part of his body before death
comes to his relief.</p>
<p>“Then, too, they have what they name the
‘vest of death.’ They strip a man to the waist
and put on him a coat of mail with numberless
fine openings. They pull this tightly about him
until the flesh protrudes through the open places,
and then deftly pass a razor all over it, making
a thousand tiny wounds. Then they take off the
vest and release the victim. The many wounds
coalesce in one until he is practically flayed and
dies in horrible torment.”</p>
<p>The boys shuddered at these instances of
“man’s inhumanity to man.”</p>
<p>“Life must be horribly cheap in China,” observed
Tom.</p>
<p>“I wonder if such terrible punishment really
has any effect as an example to criminals,” said
Ralph.</p>
<p>“I don’t believe it does,” put in Bert. “We
know that formerly in Europe there were hundreds<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span>
of crimes that were punishable with death.
In England, at one time, a young boy or girl
would be hung for stealing a few shillings. And
yet crime grew more common as punishment grew
more severe. When they became more humane in
dealing with offenders, the number of crimes fell
off in proportion.”</p>
<p>“Yes,” assented the doctor. “The modern
idea is right that punishment should be reformatory
instead of vindictive. But it will be a good
while before China sees things from that standpoint.”</p>
<p>“It is possible of course that the culprit here
does not suffer so cruelly as a white man would
under similar conditions. The nervous system of
a Chinaman is very coarse and undeveloped. He
bears with stolidity torture that would wring
shrieks of agony from one more highly strung.”</p>
<p>“Perhaps so,” said Bert, “but I don’t know.
We say that sometimes about fish. They’re coldblooded,
and so it doesn’t hurt them to be caught.
I’ve often thought, though, that it would be interesting
if we could hear from the fish on that
point.”</p>
<p>“No doubt,” returned the doctor. “It’s always
easy to be philosophical when somebody
else is concerned. But we’ll have to go now,”
looking at his watch, “if we expect to get to the
boat in time.”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span></p>
<p>“Well, fellows,” said Bert that night as, safe
on board of the <i>Fearless</i>, they prepared to tumble
in, “it certainly is interesting to go about this
land of the ‘Yellow Dragon,’ but it’s a cruel old
beast. I’d hate to feel its teeth and claws.”</p>
<p>Was it a touch of prophecy?</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span></p>
<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI">CHAPTER XVI</a></h2>
<h3><span class="smcap">The Pirate Attack</span></h3>
<p class="cap">“Not very pretty to look at, is he?” asked
Ralph, indicating by a nod the huge Chinaman
who had slipped noiselessly past them on
his way to the galley.</p>
<p>“He isn’t exactly a beauty,” assented Tom,
looking after the retreating figure, “but then
what Chinaman is? Besides he didn’t sign as an
Adonis, but as an assistant cook. What do you
expect to get for your twelve dollars a month and
found?”</p>
<p>“Well, I’d hate to meet him up an alley on a
dark night, especially if he had a knife,” persisted
Ralph. “If ever villainy looked out from a fellow’s
face it does from his.”</p>
<p>“Don’t wake him up, he is dreaming,” laughed
Bert.</p>
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">“I do not like thee, Doctor Fell,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">The reason why I cannot tell;<br /></span>
<span class="i2">But this one thing I know full well,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">I do not like thee, Doctor Fell,”<br /></span>
</div></div>
<p class="noi">quoted Dick.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span></p>
<p>“Come out of your trance, Ralph, and look at
these two junks just coming out from that point
of land over there,” rallied Tom. “Those fellows
handle them smartly, don’t they?”</p>
<p>It was a glorious evening off the China coast.
The <i>Fearless</i> had hoisted anchor and turned her
prow toward home. Every revolution of the
screws was bringing them nearer to the land of
the Stars and Stripes. The sea was like quicksilver,
there was a following wind, the powerful
engines were moving like clockwork, and everything
indicated a fast and prosperous voyage.</p>
<p>The boys were gathered at the rail, and, as
Tom spoke, they gazed with interest at the two
long narrow junks that were drawing swiftly toward
them. All sails were set and they slipped
with surprising celerity through the water.</p>
<p>“They both seem to be going in the same direction,”
said Ralph. “It almost looks as though
they were racing. I’ll bet on the—What was
that?”</p>
<p>The ship shook from stem to stern as though
her machinery had been suddenly thrown out of
place.</p>
<p>The captain rushed down from the bridge and
the mates came running forward. The boys had
leaped to their feet and looked at each other in
dismay. Then, with one accord, they plunged
down in the direction of the engine-room. Before<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span>
they reached it they could hear the hoarse
shouts of MacGregor and his assistants as they
shut off the steam, and the ship losing headway
tossed helplessly up and down.</p>
<p>“What is it Mr. MacGregor?” asked the
captain.</p>
<p>“I canna’ tell yet,” answered Mac. “Something
must have dropped into the machinery.
And yet I’ll swear there was nothing lying around
loose. But I’ll find out.”</p>
<p>A minute or two passed and then with a snarl
and an oath, he held up a heavy wrench.</p>
<p>“Here’s the thing that did it,” he yelled, “and
it didn’t get there by accident either. I ken
every tool aboard this ship and I never set eyes
on this before. Somebody threw it there to
wreck the engines.”</p>
<p>“To wreck the engines,” repeated Captain
Manning. “Why? Who’d want to do anything
like that?”</p>
<p>“I dinna’ ken,” said Mac stubbornly. “I
only know some one must ha’. I’d like to get
these twa hands of mine on his throat.”</p>
<p>“Has any one been here except you and your
men?” asked the captain.</p>
<p>“No one—leastwise nane but the Chink. He
stopped to say——”</p>
<p>Bert jumped as though he had been shot. The
Chinaman of the villainous face—those junks<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span>
putting out from land! Like a flash he was up
the ladder and out on the deserted deck. His
heart stood still as he looked astern.</p>
<p>The two junks were seething with activity and
excitement. The decks were packed with men.
All pretense of secrecy was abandoned. The
stopping of the ship had evidently been the signal
they were expecting. All sails were bent to catch
every breath of air, and long sweeps darted suddenly
from the sides. The prows threw up fountains
of water on each side as the junks made
for the crippled ship like wolves leaping on the
flanks of a wounded deer.</p>
<p>Bert took this in at a single glance. He saw
it all—the Chinese accomplice, the carefully prepared
plan, the wrecking of the machinery. His
voice rang out like a trumpet:</p>
<p>“Pirates! Pirates! All hands on deck!”</p>
<p>Then, while the officers and crew came tumbling
up from below, he rushed to the wireless
room and pressed the spark key. The blue
flames sputtered, as up and down the China coast
and far out to sea his message flashed:</p>
<p>“Attacked by pirates. Help. Quick.”</p>
<p>Then followed the latitude and longitude.
He could not wait for a reply. Three times at
intervals of a few seconds he sent the call, and
then he sprang from his seat.</p>
<p>“Here, Howland,” he shouted, as his assistant<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span>
appeared at the door. “Keep sending right
along. It’s a matter of life and death. Let me
know if an answer comes.”</p>
<p>Then he grabbed his .45 and rushed on deck.
A fight was coming—a fight against fearful odds.
And his blood grew hot with the lust of battle.</p>
<p>Short sharp words of command ran over the
ship. The officers and crew were at their places.
The women passengers had been sent below and
an incipient panic had been quelled at the start.
The officers had their revolvers loaded and ready
and the crew were armed with capstan bars and
marlinspikes beside the sheath knives that they
all carried. There was no cannon, except a
small signal gun on board the ship, and this the
pirates knew. The battle must be hand to hand.
The odds were heavy. The decks of the enemy
swarmed with yelling devils naked to the waist
and armed to the teeth. They were at least five
to one and had the advantage of the attack and
the surprise.</p>
<p>The boys were grouped together at the stern
toward which the junks were pulling. All had
revolvers, and heavy bars lay near by to be
grabbed when they should come to hand-grips
with the pirates. They looked into each others
eyes and each rejoiced at what he saw there. Together
they had faced death before and won out;
to-day, they were facing it again, and the chances<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span>
were against their winning. Yet they never
quailed or flinched. The spirit of ’76 was there—the
spirit of 1812—the spirit of ’61. They
came of a fighting stock; a race that could face
and whip the world or die in the trying. They
glanced at Old Glory floating serenely above
their heads, and each swore to himself that if he
died defeated he would not die disgraced. Their
fingers tightened on the butts of their weapons,
their teeth clinched and their eyes grew hard.</p>
<p>The captain, cool and stern, as he always was
in a crisis, had divided his forces into two equal
parts. He himself commanded on the port side,
while Mr. Collins took charge of the starboard.
A long line of hose had been connected with the
boiling water of the engine room, and two sailors
held the nozzle as it writhed and twisted on the
rail. Had there been but one junk, this might
have proved decisive, but, in the nature of things,
it could only defend one side of the ship. The
pirates were proceeding on the plan of “divide
and conquer.” As they drew rapidly nearer,
they separated, and while one dashed at the port
side of the ship, the other swept around under
the starboard quarter. Then a horde of half-naked
yellow fiends with knives held between
their teeth swarmed up the sides, grabbed at the
rails and sought to obtain a foothold. A volley
of bullets swept the first of them away, but their<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span>
places were instantly taken by others. The boiling
water rushed in a torrent over the port side,
and the scalded scoundrels fell back. But it was
only for a moment and still they kept coming
with unabated fury.</p>
<p>Bert and his comrades fought shoulder to
shoulder. Their revolvers barked again and
again and the snarling yellow faces were so near
that they could not miss. Many fell back dead
and wounded, but they never quit; and when the
revolvers were emptied, a number of the pirates
got over the rail, while the boys were reloading.
Then followed a savage hand-to-hand fight.
Iron bars came down with sickening crashes;
knives flashed and fell and rose and fell again.
The pirates were gaining a foothold and the little
band of defenders was hard pressed. But just
then reinforcements came in the form of MacGregor
and his husky stokers and engineers.
They had been trying desperately to repair the
engines, but the sounds of the fight above had
been too much for them to stand, and now they
came headlong into the fight, their brawny arms
swinging iron bars like flails. They turned the
tide at that critical moment and the pirates were
driven back over the sides. They dropped sullenly
into the junks and drew away from the ship
until they were out of range of bullets. Then
they stopped and took breath before renewing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span>
the attack. They had suffered terribly, but they
still vastly outnumbered the defenders.</p>
<p>The boys reloaded their revolvers, watching
the enemy narrowly.</p>
<p>“I wonder if they have enough,” said Dick as
he bound a handkerchief around a slight flesh
wound in his left arm.</p>
<p>“I don’t think so,” answered Bert, “their
blood is up and they know how few we are as
compared with themselves. They certainly
fought like wildcats.”</p>
<p>“They’re live wires sure enough,” agreed
Tom. “They—why Bert, what’s the matter?”
he exclaimed as Bert sprang to his feet excitedly.</p>
<p>But Bert had rushed to the captain and was
eagerly laying before him the plan that Tom’s
words had unwittingly suggested.</p>
<p>The captain listened intently and an immense
relief spread over his features. He issued his
orders promptly. Great coils of heavy wire
were brought from the storeroom and under
Bert’s supervision were wound in parallel rows
about the stern of the ship. At first sight it
looked as though they were inviting the pirates to
grasp them and thus easily reach the deck. It
seemed like committing suicide. The work was
carried on with feverish energy and by the time
the pirates swung their boats around and again
headed for the ship, there was a treble row of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span>
wires about a foot apart on both the port and
starboard side.</p>
<p>The revolvers had all been reloaded and every
man stood ready. But the tenseness of a few
minutes before was lacking. For the first time
since the fight began Captain Manning smiled
contentedly.</p>
<p>“Don’t fire, men, unless I give the word.
Stand well back from the rail and wait for orders.”</p>
<p>On came the pirates yelling exultantly. The
silence of the defenders was so strange and unnatural
that it might well have daunted a more
imaginative or less determined foe. Not a shot
was fired, not a man stirred. They might have
been dream men on a dream ship for any sign of
life and movement. The crowded junks bore
down on either side of the ship, and as though
with a single movement, a score of pirates leaped
at the rails and grasped the wires to pull themselves
aboard.</p>
<p>Then a wonderful thing happened. From below
came the buzz of the great dynamo and
through the wires surged the tremendous power
of the electric current. It was appalling, overwhelming,
irresistible. It killed as lightning kills.
There was not even time for a cry. They hung
there for one awful moment with limbs twisted
and contorted, while an odor of burning flesh<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span>
filled the air. Then they dropped into the sea.
Their comrades petrified with horror saw them
fall and then with frantic shrieks bent to the
sweeps and fled for their lives.</p>
<hr class="tb" />
<p>And so it befell that when the good ship
<i>Fearless</i> drew up to the dock at San Francisco, the
young wireless operator, much to his surprise as
well as distaste, found that his quick wit and unfailing
courage had made of him a popular hero.
But he steadfastly disclaimed having done anything
unusual. If he had fought a good fight and
“kept the faith,” it was, after all, only his duty.</p>
<p>“Well, yes, but admitting all that,” said Dick,
“it’s so unusual for a fellow to do even that,
that when it does happen the world insists on
crowning it. You know.</p>
<p>“‘The path of duty is the road to glory.’”</p>
<p>Neither knew at the moment how much of
prophecy there was in that quotation. For Glory
beckoned, though unseen, and Bert in the near future
was destined to win fresh laurels. How
gallantly he fought for them, how splendidly he
won them and how gracefully he wore them will
be told in</p>
<p class="noic">“Bert Wilson, Marathon Winner.”</p>
<p class="p2 noic">THE END
</p>
<hr class="chap" />
<div class="tnote">
<p class="noi tntitle">Transcriber’s Notes:</p>
<p>Punctuation and spelling inaccuracies were silently corrected.</p>
<p>Archaic and variable spelling has been preserved.</p>
<p>Variations in hyphenation and compound words have been preserved.</p>
</div>
<pre>
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