CHAPTER XVI
ABOARD THE STEAM YACHT
Slowly the forenoon passed. Again all scanned the horizon eagerly. Twice they thought they saw sails in the distance, and once caught sight of a trail of smoke left by some steamer. But no craft came close enough to be signaled. Nor did they see any more of the wreckage.
“I’m afraid the other fellows have gone to the bottom,” said Fred, and his voice trembled as he spoke.
“Well, there ain’t much ch’ice between bein’ drowned an’ starvin’ to death,” came from Ira Small. His thin face was thinner than ever and his eyes burned with a peculiar fire.
“Gee, I hope Small doesn’t go crazy,” whispered Randy to Jack. “I’ve heard some people do that when they get too hungry.”
“He certainly looks pretty wild, Randy,” was the reply.
“Don’t you feel a bit dizzy, Jack? I do.”
“I’m trying not to think of being hungry,” said the young major. “It’s the only way out as far as I can see.”
A few minutes more passed and then, of a sudden, Ira Small leaped to his feet, pointing his long, bony hand ahead of him.
“There’s another wreck!” he called out. “Looks like a steam yacht, too!”
All gazed in the direction indicated and saw that Ira Small was right. The wreck, which was quite a distance away, disappeared in a hollow of the ocean, but a moment later came up on the crest of a wave.
It was a steam yacht, but both of the masts were broken off just above the deck, one dangling partly over the side, held by a number of ropes. The bow of the yacht was smashed in, and a goodly portion of the starboard rail had been carried away.
“She’s been in a collision, that’s sure!” cried Jack.
“Maybe she smashed into the ship the wreckage of which hit the Fancy,” suggested Fred.
“That might be so, lad,” said the old sailor, still standing up, in spite of his hurt leg.
“Let’s yell and wave our hands!” cried Andy. “I’d rather be on a boat like that, even if she is all battered up, than on this wreckage. Besides that, we want something to eat—and mighty quick, too!”
“I don’t see anybody on the deck,” came from Randy.
All looked eagerly toward the battered steam yacht. The craft was of good size and tilted over to port and up at the bow.
“Looks to me like the yacht had been abandoned,” said Ira Small. “Look, lads! All the small boats are missin’. I’ll bet after she was struck the cap’n thought she was goin’ down, an’ so abandoned his ship.”
Slowly the steam yacht came closer. She was considerably water-logged, and now the Rover boys and the sailor saw that her bow was greatly damaged and that part of the forward deck had also been torn up.
“She must have been in a terrible smash, whatever it was,” remarked Jack.
“Yes, and she may have cut the other boat clean to pieces,” answered Randy. “Just look at all the wreckage we got into!”
“But if she hit that boat, why didn’t we see the yacht before?” queried Fred. “She was right on the same spot.”
“Well, you must remember, this here wreckage is from a small sailin’ ship,” answered the lanky sailor. “That there yacht probably has a good engine aboard, and maybe after the collision the cap’n put on full steam, thinkin’ he could make land. Then the vessel got so water-logged he was afraid she was goin’ down, and so he and his crew and his passengers, if he had any, took to the boats. But I want to say one thing,” he went on impressively: “She’s the funniest lookin’ steam yacht I ever saw. Look at that queer house on deck, and look at them queer portholes along the side. Maybe she’s a hospital ship.”
“I wish we could get aboard to find out,” came from Andy. His hunger was making him desperate.
“I’ve a good mind to try to swim over to her,” said Jack.
“If you go, I’ll go along,” answered Randy, quickly.
“Well, if you try it, each of you’d better take two life-preservers,” suggested Ira Small. “Then, when you git tired of swimmin’, you kin rest yourselves. It ain’t no mean distance to that there vessel. Distances on the water are mighty deceivin’.”
“What about sharks?” asked Fred.
“We’ve got to run that risk,” answered Jack. “I’d just as lief be food for sharks as to starve to death,” he added desperately.
A little later, each wearing two life-preservers, Jack and Randy struck out for the water-logged steam yacht, which was moving slowly on the rolling bosom of the Atlantic.
“Don’t hurry, Randy,” cautioned the young major. “It may be a long swim, and there is no use of our getting winded. Take it easy. It may get us there quicker in the end.”
The two Rover boys made slow progress, and at the end of a quarter of an hour the water-logged steam yacht seemed to be almost as far away as ever.
“It doesn’t look as if we were going to make it, does it, Jack?” questioned his cousin, as he stopped swimming for a moment. His looks showed his disappointment.
“Oh, we’ll get there sooner or later,” Jack answered, as cheerfully as he could.
They resumed their swimming, and a few minutes later saw, to their delight, that the rolling ocean was bringing the strange vessel closer to them.
“Look out that you don’t get struck!” cried Jack, when the steam yacht loomed up just ahead of them. “She’s bobbing around pretty lively, in spite of being water-logged. Try to grab one of those ropes on the broken mast.”
As the two youths drew closer they could hear the swash of the ocean as it struck the sides of the water-logged boat. But mingled with these sounds came others that made them look at each other in wonder.
“What do you suppose that noise is?” questioned Randy.
“I don’t know. Maybe some people in distress.”
“Maybe the steam yacht is a hospital ship, as Small said.”
The strange noise continued to come from the water-logged steam yacht, but what it could be the boys could not surmise. As the vessel surged closer, each caught hold of the ropes which held the broken mast and then did his best to pull himself up to the slanting deck above.
“Be careful!” called out Randy. “These ropes may give way and let us and the mast down in a hurry.”
“Oh, they’ve held so long, I guess they’ll hold a little longer,” answered Jack. “Up you go!”
A minute later the two Rover boys stood on the deck of the water-logged vessel. The craft was so badly listed that they moved around with difficulty.
“Not a soul in sight, dead or alive,” murmured Jack, after they had gazed up and down the long deck.
“Do you notice anything funny in the way of a smell?” questioned his cousin, suddenly.
“I certainly do!” Jack gave a sniff. “Smells something like a stable.”
“Maybe she’s a cattle boat.”
“That might be, Randy. But come on, we might as well take a look around and see if anybody is in charge. And we want to see, too, what we can do about getting the others on the wreckage aboard.”
“Maybe we can find some kind of small boat. They may not have taken all of them,” was the hopeful response.
Not only did the deck slope at a dangerous angle, but it was also exceedingly slippery, so that it was with great difficulty that the boys managed to move around. It had been the foremast that hung by the board, and they had come aboard close to where rested the remains of the smashed-in bow.
“There is that noise again!” exclaimed Randy, while they were moving amidships. “What in the world can it be!”
“Some animals, I guess,” answered his cousin. “They may have some horses or cows or sheep, or something like that, on board. Come on, let’s investigate. This thing is getting on my nerves.”
The cousins moved with caution to the middle portion of the yacht. Here were the remains of a deckhouse, smashed flat by the fall of the mainmast, which was now missing. Behind this was a cabin, the door and windows of which were all tightly closed.
“Hello! Hello!” yelled Jack, at the top of his lungs. “Anybody on board? Hello!”
Jack had scarcely uttered the call when from below the deck came a pandemonium of sounds that fairly made the two lads jump. There were roars and moans, and a shrill chattering that made their hair feel as if it would stand on end.
“My stars, Jack! what kind of a boat is this?” gasped Randy, as he clutched his cousin by the arm.
“I don’t know,” was the short reply, and Jack looked at his cousin curiously. Had their extreme hunger and thirst affected their minds and were they simply imagining things?
They looked back to the wreckage they had left, and to their satisfaction saw that it was less than half as far away as it had been when they had left it to swim over to the steam yacht.
“Thank fortune, it’s coming this way!” breathed Randy. “I hope it does—that may save us a lot of trouble.”
“Provided we want to stay aboard this ship,” answered Jack.
“Why, what do you mean by that? Don’t you think it’s safe?” asked his cousin, in alarm.
“I don’t know what to think, Randy. Either we’re bewitched, or this boat has got the queerest cargo aboard I ever heard of. Just listen to that roaring and moaning and chattering! Did you ever hear anything like it in your life?”
“Hi! Hi! Can’t you throw us a line?” came suddenly from the wreckage, and now they saw that it was floating still closer.
“Let’s see if we can’t tie fast to the wreckage before we do anything else,” said Jack. “We don’t want it to float off on the other side of the yacht.”
Their fears forgotten for the moment, the two cousins set to work and soon found a long line which might answer their purpose. They cast this line out as far as they could, not once, but many times, and at last had the satisfaction of seeing it caught by Fred and the old sailor. Then to the light line they attached a fair-sized hawser, and this was speedily hauled down to the wreckage, which in a few moments more bumped into the side of the steam yacht and was secured there.
“Gee, I’m glad to be over here!” cried Fred. “Hurry up! Help me get Andy and Small aboard. Is there anybody alive on the yacht?”
“We don’t know what’s aboard yet,” answered Jack, anxiously. “We’re hearing all sorts of strange sounds. Just listen!”
All listened, and suddenly the face of Ira Small took on a knowing look.
“By gum! I know what this craft is,” he exclaimed. “I’ve heard of her before. She’s a menagerie ship!”