The Rover Boys in Southern Waters/Chapter 19
CHAPTER XIX
THE STORM ON THE GULF
"Boys, we are going to have a corker of a storm if ever there was one."
"I believe you, Dick. My, how the black clouds are rolling up!"
"And just when we were doing so nicely too."
The three Rover boys had come to the deck in a bunch, directly after the bath and a hearty meal. It was Dick who had noticed the black clouds rolling up so suddenly and had called the attention of the others.
"How kvick der veader can change," sighed Hans. "Ven ve vos in schwimming I dink it vos lofely for a veek, ain't it!"
The boys had a good fire under the boiler and had tested the engine, to find it now in good working order. From one of the new joints the steam bubbled the least bit, but not sufficiently to do any harm or cause alarm. Dick had tried the wheel, to find it in the best of order. It thrilled him to take hold of the spokes and make the steam yacht answer to his will.
"I don't wonder some men wish to be pilots," he had said. "It's great to have a big steamer do just as you want her to." Then he had run the vessel around in the form of the figure 8, just to "get the knack of it," as he said.
"Shall we start for land in such a storm as this?" asked Sam. "It might drive us up on the rocks somewhere."
"We're a good way from land, Sam. Let us see what the storm will do first."
The black clouds increased rapidly, until the whole sky was overcast. Then a strong wind sprang up and the gulf was covered with whitecaps as far as the eye could reach.
"It's coming!" cried Sam, as the big raindrops began to fall. "We may as well get out of the wet."
"I think I'll run before the storm," said Dick.
"We must either do that or face it. The yacht is beginning to roll."
"Yah, I feel dot!" sighed Hans, who had begun to turn pale.
"Hans, are you getting seasick?" demanded Sam.
"I ton't know, put I dink me my stomach vos going inside owid alretty!"
"You're certainly seasick," said Dick, with a grin. "Better lie down for a while."
"Oh, my!" groaned the German youth, and rushed, first to the rail of the steam yacht and then to the cabin. He was indeed sick, and that was the last the others saw of him while the storm lasted.
Soon came a whistling wind and then the rain fell in torrents. The sea was lashed into a white foam and the waves became higher and higher, crashing against the stern of the Mermaid, as she ran before them. At one moment the steam yacht would be on the top of the waves, the next she would sink down and down in the trough of the sea.
"You don't think we'll be wrecked, do you?" asked Sam, as he left his duty as fireman and came to the wheelhouse, where Dick stood, with all the windows down, trying to peer forth through the fury of the elements.
"Not at all, Sam,—but this is something fierce and no mistake."
"Poor Hans is down and out. I heard him rolling on his berth and groaning with distress."
"Well, leave him alone. He'll be sick as long as the storm lasts, most likely, and you'll only make matters worse by looking at him."
With the coming of night the storm appeared to increase. It was pitch-black on every side and Dick did not dare to run the Mermaid at more than quarter speed—just enough to keep her from swinging around broadside to the storm. All the lanterns were lit and hung up, Sam doing this with an oilsilk coat around him—a garment found in one of the staterooms. Yet he came in pretty wet.
"It's a screamer," he announced to Tom, as he dried himself by the boiler. "Never knew they could have such storms down here."
"They have storms all over the world," answered Tom. "What is Dick doing?"
"Running before the wind."
"He just told me to slow down more yet."
"Well, he can't see a thing ahead and he doesn't want to run into anything."
"And Hans?"
"Down, the sickest ever."
"Too bad! I know what it is to be sick. Better leave him alone."
"That's what Dick said."
As but little steam was needed Sam had no call to urge on his fire beneath the boiler, and he and Tom sat down near the speaking tube, to talk occasionally to Dick.
Thus two hours went by. Nobody had the least desire to go to sleep, even though the long swim had made each boy rather tired. The fury of the elements made them nervous.
"This puts me in mind of the time we were on the Pacific," called down Dick through the speaking tube. He referred to the adventures they had had as related in "The Rover Boys on Land and Sea."
"Well, we don't want to be cast away on a lonely island as we were then," said Sam.
"There are no islands around here," answered Tom. "I looked on the chart to make sure."
"In that case we can't hit anything. I am thinking"
"Back her!" yelled Dick, through the speaking tube, and then jingled the bell.
Tom leaped for the engine and reversed it. There was a pause, and they felt the steam yacht swing half around. Then, after a wait, Dick ordered the speed ahead.
"What was wrong?" asked Tom, at the tube.
"Light right ahead," was the answer. "We cleared it by fifty feet. But I was scared, I can tell you that."
"What kind of a light?"
"A steamer—tramp, I reckon. She's way behind now."
Sam ran on deck to get a view of the stranger, but the fury of the storm shut out the sight.
"I suppose you didn't see much of her, Dick," he said, going into the wheelhouse.
"I saw enough," was the grim response. "I thought we were going to have a smash-up sure, and I reckon the other pilot thought the same."
"Did you see anybody on board?"
"Not a soul. She came up like a ghost, with only two lights showing, and by the time I had backed and turned she was gone. But it nearly gave me nervous collapse," added the amateur pilot.
The wind was now so heavy that it sent the rain against the pilot house in solid sheets. Dick could not see ahead at all and he requested Sam to go to the bow, to keep the best lookout possible.
"If you see anything wrong yell to me," he said. "And be careful that you don't tumble overboard." And then he spoke to Tom through the tube and asked the amateur engineer to play fireman also for the time being.
Wrapped in the raincoat, and with a cap pulled far down over his head, Sam took up his station near the bow, clinging to the rail for protection. He knew their safety depended in good part on keeping a sharp lookout and he eyed the darkness ahead closely. So far there had been little lightning and scarcely any thunder, but now the rumbling increased until there came a crash and a flare that made all on the Mermaid jump.
"Did that hit us?" yelled Tom up the tube.
"No, but it was pretty close," answered Dick.
"Where is Sam now?"
"At the forward rail. I can see nothing from the wheelhouse."
"If it gets much worse you had better come below and let the boat run itself, Dick."
"I can't do that, Tom—I must stick to my post."
Another half-hour went by, and there was no let up in the fury of the storm. Poor Sam was almost exhausted and, tying the wheel fast for the time being, Dick went to him.
"Better come in," he said. "If you'll take the wheel I'll stay out here. Just keep her straight before the storm."
"All right," panted poor Sam, and made his way back to the wheelhouse step by step, and holding on to whatever was handy, to keep from being swept overboard.
Sam had interested himself in steering from the start and knew how to handle a wheel moderately well. He looked at the compass and saw that they were running almost due east, varying a little to the southward. He untied the wheel and kept to the course with but little trouble.
"Dick has gone on the lookout," he explained to Tom. And then he added: "You've got the best job to-night."
"I'd come up, if you could run the engine," was Tom's reply.
"No, you had better attend to that, Tom."
"Doesn't the storm seem to be letting up?"
"Not a particle. If anything it is growing worse."
"It must be a hurricane."
"It is—or next door to it," answered the youngest of the Rovers.
The thunder and lightning appeared to draw closer, until the steam yacht was literally surrounded by the electrical display. The flashes of lightning were so blinding that, for the moment afterward, neither Sam nor Dick could see anything. Sam tried to keep the windows of the pilot house fairly clean, but the effort was a dismal failure.
Presently came one awful flash and crash that caused Sam to sink back in a heap on one of the pilot-house cushions. He felt that the steam yacht must have been struck and every nerve in his body tingled and quivered. Only after a strong effort was he able to pull himself together and clutch the wheel once more.
"Dick must have felt that," he murmured. "I wish"
Another flash of lightning, but less vivid, interrupted his meditations. He looked out of the front window towards where Dick had been standing. Then he gave a cry of alarm.
His big brother had disappeared!