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Dave Darrin's Second Year at Annapolis, a novel by H. Irving Hancock |
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Chapter 10. The Grim Watch From The Waves |
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_ CHAPTER X. THE GRIM WATCH FROM THE WAVES By the time that little more than the mastheads of the departing battleships were visible, Hallam opened his eyes. It would have seemed a vastly kinder fate had he been allowed to remain unconscious to the last. Hallam had not been strangled by the inrush of water. In going overboard, this midshipman had struck the water with the back of his head and had been stunned. In the absence of attention he had remained a long time unconscious. Even now the hapless midshipman whose frollicking had been the cause of the disaster, did not immediately regain his full senses. "Why, we're all in the water," he remarked after a while. "Yes," assented Darrin, trying to speak cheerfully. Midshipman Hallam remained silent for some moments before he next asked: "How did it happen?" "Fell overboard," replied Dan laconically, failing to mention who it was who had fallen over the stern. Again a rather long silence on Hallam's part. Then, at last, he observed: "Funny how we all fell over at the same time." To this neither of his classmates made any rejoinder. "See here," shouted Hallam, after a considerable period of silent wondering, "I remember it all now. I was fooling at the stern rail and I toppled overboard." Dan nodded without words. "And you fellows jumped in after me," roared Hallam, both his mental and bodily powers now beginning to return. "Didn't you?" "Of course," assented Darrin rather reluctantly. "And what became of the fleet!" Dave and Dan looked at each other before the former replied: "Oh, well, Hally, brace up! The ships searched for us a long time, and some launches were put out after us. But they couldn't see our little heads above the big waves, and so----" "They've gone away and left us?" queried Hallam, guessing at once. "Now, fellows, I don't mind so much for myself, but it's fearful to think that I've dragged you into the same fate. It's awful! Why couldn't you have left me to my fate?" "Would you have done a thing like that?" demanded Dave dryly. "Oh, well, I suppose not, but--but--well, I wish I had been left to pay the price of my tomfoolery all alone. It would have served me right. But to drag you two into it--" Hallam could go no further. He was choking up with honest emotion. "Don't bother about it, Hally," urged Dave. "It's all in the day's work for a sailor. We'll just take it as it comes, old fellow." To not one of the trio did it occur to let go of the life buoys and sink as a means of ending misery. In the first place, human instinct holds to hope. In the second place, suicide is the resort of cowards. "None of you happened to hide any food in his pockets at breakfast, I take it?" asked Dan grimly, at last. Of course they hadn't. "Too bad," sighed Dan. "I'm growing terribly hungry." "Catch a fish," smiled back Darrin. "And eat it raw?" gasped Dalzell. "Darry, you know my tastes better than that." "Then wait a few hours longer," proposed Dave, "until even raw fish will be a delicacy." Hallam took no part in the chaffing. He was miserably conscious, all the while, that his own folly had been solely responsible for the present plight of these noble messmates. Thus the time passed on. None kept any track of it; they realized only that it was still daylight. Then suddenly Dave gave a gasp and raised one hand to point. His two classmates turned and were able to make out the mastheads of a craft in the distance. How they strained their eyes! All three stared and stared, until they felt tolerably certain that the craft was headed their way. "They may see us!" cried Hallam eagerly. "Three battleships and as many launches failed to find us," retorted Dan. "And they were looking for us, too." As the vessel came nearer and the hull became visible, it took on the appearance of a liner. "Why, it looks as though she'd run right over us when she gets nearer," cried Dave, his eyes kindling with hope. "Don't get too excited over it," urged Dan. "For my part, I'm growing almost accustomed to disappointments." As the minutes passed and the liner came on and on, it looked still more as though she would run down the three middies. [Illustration: "Look! They See Us!"] At last, however, the craft was passing, showing her port side, not very far distant, to be sure. Uniting their voices, the three midshipmen yelled with all their power, even though they knew that their desperate call for help could not carry the distance over the subsiding gale. Boom! That shot came from the liner, and now her port rail was black with people. "They see us!" cried Hallam joyously. "Look! That craft is slowing up!" Once more came the cheers of encouragement, as the liner, now some distance ahead, put off a heavy launch. A masthead lookout, who had first seen the midshipmen, was now signaling the way to the officer in command of the launch. Unable to see for himself, the officer in the launch depended wholly on those masthead signals. So the launch steamed a somewhat zig-zag course over the waves. Yet, at last, it bore down straight upon the midshipmen. Darrin, Dalzell and Hallam now came very near to closing their eyes, to lessen the suspense. A short time more and all three were dragged in over the sides of the launch. "Get those life buoys in, if you can," begged Dave, as he sank in the bottom of the launch. "They are United States property entrusted to our care." From officer and seamen alike a laugh went up at this request, but the life buoys were caught with a boathook and drawn aboard. What rousing cheers greeted the returning launch, from the decks of the liner, "Princess Irene"! When the three midshipmen reached deck and it was learned that they were midshipmen of the United States Navy, the cheering and interest were redoubled. But the captain and the ship's doctor cut short any attempt at lionizing by rushing the midshipmen to a stateroom containing three berths. Here, under the doctor's orders, the trio were stripped and rubbed down. Then they were rolled into blankets, and hot coffee brought to them in their berths, while their wet clothing was sent below to one of the furnace rooms for hurried drying. As soon as the medical man had examined them, the steamship's captain began to question them. "Headed for the Azores, eh?" demanded the ship's master. "We ought to be able to sight your squadron before long." He hastened out, to give orders to the deck officer. By the time that the young midshipmen had been satisfactorily warmed, and their clothing had been dried, the ship's surgeon consented to their dressing. After this they were led to a private cabin where a satisfying meal was served them. "Oh, I don't know," murmured Dan, leaning back, with a contented sigh, after the meal was over; "there are worse things than what happened to us to-day!" The greater speed of the liner enabled her to sight the battleship squadron something more than two hours afterward. Then the nearest vessel of the fleet was steered for directly. The deck officers of the liner sent their heavy overcoats for the use of the midshipmen, who, enveloped in these roomy garments, went out on deck to watch the pursuit of their own comrades. Within another hour it was possible to signal, and from the "Princess Irene's" masthead the signal flags were broken out. "Now, watch for excitement on board your own craft," smiled the liner's commander, an Englishman. As soon as the liner's signal had been read by the vessels of the squadron a wild display of signal bunting swiftly broke out. "Heaven be thanked!" read one set of signal flags. "We have officially buried the young men, but ask them to go on living," read another. While the most practical signal of all was: "The 'Massachusetts' will fall astern of the squadron. Kindly stand by to receive her launch." In a few minutes more the two vessels were close enough. Both stopped headway. One of the big battleship's launches put off and steamed over, rolling and pitching on the waves. Most carefully indeed the three midshipmen climbed down a rope ladder and were received by an ensign from the "Massachusetts," who next gave the American Navy's profound thanks to the rescuers of the middies. "Kindly lower that United States property that was in our care, sir!" Dave Darrin called up. There was good-humored laughter above, and a look of amazement on Ensign White's face until the two buoys, attached to lines, were thrown down over the side. "When your time comes you will make a very capable officer, I believe, Mr. Darrin, judging by your care of government property," remarked Ensign White, working hard to keep down the laughter. "I hope to do so, sir," Dave replied, saluting. Then away to the "Massachusetts" the launch bore, while the whole battleship squadron cheered itself hoarse over the happy outcome of the day. Dave, Dan and Hallam all had to do a tremendous amount of handshaking among their classmates when they had reached deck. Pennington was the only one who did not come forward to hold his hand out to Darrin--a fact that was noted at the time by many of the youngsters. To the captain the trio recounted what had befallen them, as matter for official record. "Mr. Darrin and Mr. Dalzell," announced the battleship's captain, "I must commend you both for wholly heroic conduct in going to the aid of your classmate. And, Mr. Darrin, I am particularly interested in your incidental determination to preserve government property--the life buoys that you brought back with you." "It's possible I may need them again, sir," returned Dave, with a smile, though he had no notion of prophetic utterance. _ |
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