during his brief career as a cadet at the united states naval academy, clif had not been placed in many very startling and dangerous situations, but he was a youth of natural coolness of character, and one quick to act in cases of emergency.
in the present situation all his coolness was needed.
when the sudden and entirely unexpected crash came, clif and the other members of the crew were bending all their energies forward, forcing the launch back to the practice ship.
with head bent low and arms tugging at the oar he worked away, knowing full well that their very lives depended upon their reaching the monongahela before the sudden gale increased.
clif heard joy and trolley talking, then came the lieutenant’s fierce interruption, and then chaos seemed to come, and overwhelm boat and crew in one mighty crash.
the lieutenant’s warning cry came too late for preparation. clif felt himself thrown headlong from his seat upon the man in front. there was a wild scramble, then the waters of the ocean rolled up and engulfed all.
when clif regained the surface he at once instinctively struck out. in no general direction, but with a natural desire to keep afloat.
he heard cries about him, and a splashing and floundering as if a score of men were making a desperate fight for their lives. and mixed in with the hubbub was the keen whistling of the growing gale.
suddenly the lad came in contact with some yielding body. he heard a gasp and a gurgle, then two arms were thrown about his neck and down went his head beneath the surface.
it is not in the duty of man to drown without making an effort for life. neither should one go down at the frantic assault of another until all means of aiding both have been exhausted.
clif instantly realized that he was in the clutches of one whom peril had rendered frantic. he also knew that he must release himself right speedily if he expected to save himself.
calling all his power into play, he threw off the strangling arms, at the same time gasping hoarsely:
“strike out, man. do something for yourself.”
he received no answer. the fellow faded away in the blackness, leaving clif to swim unencumbered. luckily, the lad was at home in the water, else he would have found sore trouble in keeping above the buffeting waves.
he struggled on, striving his best to see aught of hope in the prospect. the wind swept the crests of the seas into a thousand stinging lances. the roar of the increasing storm sounded like a mocking chorus of demons. occasional cries for help echoed above the brawling of the elements.
suddenly the lights on the practice ship, which clif had kept before his eyes as well as he could, began to grow dim.
“surely they will not leave us to perish miserably,” groaned the lad. “they will stand by until some of the boats report.”
wild with fear he struck out savagely, and in the act drove plump against some hard object.
the sudden shock sent him under the surface once more. when he emerged gasping and half stunned, he heard the sound of a familiar voice nearby in the darkness.
“come up higher, trolley, the boat can stand it. that’s it; give me your hand. steady, steady, ah-h!”
“it’s joy, and he has found help,” hopefully muttered clif.
he swam in the direction whence the words had come, and speedily reached what proved to be the launch, floating capsized at the mercy of the waves.
upon the upturned bottom were two dark smudges just visible against the black background of the night.
grasping the end of the keel, clif drew himself up and sat panting upon the bottom planks.
“who is that?” called out joy.
“it’s what is left of me,” replied clif.
“hurray, it’s faraday!” shouted the japanese youth. “hurray, clif, me glad you saved. shake!”
“this is a dreadful business,” exclaimed faraday, as he wrung the proffered hand. “seen anything of the other fellows?”
“not a sign,” replied joy. “we have heard lots of cries, but we are the only ones who have reached this launch.”
“what was the trouble? a collision?”
“yes. i think we ran into one of the cutters. whew! how this blamed thing does roll.”
it required all the efforts of the three to retain their position upon the tossing launch. the sweep of the waves sent a perfect deluge of water over them at times, and they were compelled to cling with tooth and nail.
the force of the wind continued unabated, but it was evident from the suddenness of its coming and its very fierceness that it would not last.
the lights of the monongahela were no longer visible. immediately after gaining the comparative safety of the capsized launch, clif eagerly scanned the horizon.
“i am afraid she has been driven off before the gale, fellows,” he said, anxiously.
“it certainly looks that way,” agreed joy. “i guess we can say good-by to the old monongahela.”
“it say good-by to us,” chimed in trolley. “it go away; we no want to.”
he spoke lightly, but he fully understood the extreme gravity of the situation. all three realized that their lives were in deadly peril.
with only the frail planks of an overturned boat between them and the depths of the angry sea, it was plainly evident that little hope remained.
and what of the others who had left the practice ship?
clif shuddered and his eyes moistened as he recalled the names of his shipmates. some there were who had not been friendly to him. many had sworn undying vengeance because he had led the plebes on more than one successful resistance to the hazing of the upper classes. in that very launch judson greene had pulled an oar.
all animosity was forgotten now, however; in the presence of such an awful tragedy only heartfelt sympathy and regret could live.
“haven’t you seen anything of the others?” he asked again.
“nary sign,” replied joy, gloomily.
“i guess they gone down,” muttered trolley. “poor boys! me very sorry.”
a realization of their own situation was suddenly brought home to them. a curling wave, higher than the rest, abruptly broke over the launch with such force that all three lads were hurled bodily from the keel.
clif was thrown a dozen feet away from the boat, and[pg 154] when he regained the surface after the violent plunge he found himself buffeted about in a smother of foam.
he struck out blindly, and at the same time called lustily for his companions. an answering cry came at once.
“clif! clif! where are you?”
guided by the voice, he reached the boat once more, but only after a most desperate struggle.
he felt himself clutched by the collar and dragged against the gunwale. then he saw to his infinite surprise that the sailing launch had righted.
“all present and accounted for, and better off than before.”
these cheery words came from clif as he scrambled into the boat and saw that both joy and trolley were there.
“yes, but if we want to continue to be present we’d better commence to bail,” replied the former.
trolley felt about under the submerged seats and brought up a bailer which had been wedged in one corner. with this he set industriously to work.
clif and joy did what they could to help, and before long the water in the launch was materially decreased.the boys labored with lighter hearts. hope was not so far distant after all.
in this world many things are measured by circumstances. to the drowning man a straw is worth clutching for.
after ten minutes of incessant labor clif straightened up and announced what was patent to his companions.
“only a foot of water left, fellows. we can stand that for a time.”
“if we only had oars or something to keep the blessed craft before the wind we’d stand a show of living until morning,” said joy.
“we look for things,” announced the japanese youth, suiting the action to the words.
clif continued bailing as a heavy wave had thrown more water over the side. joy and trolley started to search the boat forward.
there were speedy results. an eager cry came from joy, and he called back:
“here’s a find, clif. the boat’s mast and sails are still fastened to the seats where they were before she capsized. hurrah! we can do something now.”
clif ceased bailing in a jiffy and scrambled forward. he found his companions tugging away at a long, shapeless mass, which resolved itself into a mast and a damp, soggy leg-o’-mutton sail.
“this is great,” he exclaimed, exultantly. “it means that we can manage to keep afloat and make a little headway, anyway. it can’t be far to the coast of portugal, and if the old monongahela don’t turn up we’ll take a cruise of our own.”
“we’ve got to have rudder,” said the ever practical trolley. “sail no good without rudder.”
“sure thing,” replied joy. “don’t worry, we’ll get one all right. there’s a spare oar wrapped up with this sail.”
he had made the welcome discovery while unfolding the canvas.
the three castaways set to work without delay, and after half an hour’s hard labor, during which they were compelled to stop and bail a dozen times, they finally had the mast stepped, and a closereefed sail spread.
by degrees the launch worked around until it at last fell off before the wind. it was a change from the constant, dangerous rolling in the trough of the sea, but the pitching caused by the enormous waves was anything but pleasant.
the three lads took turns at steering. the solitary oar found with the sail answered the purpose well enough.
the night dragged slowly. as time passed, however, it became apparent that the gale was abating. the sea still ran high, but the wind lessened, until at last, just before dawn, it died down to an ordinary breeze.
and how the miserable, water-soaked, poor castaways waited for the first gray streaks of the coming day!
light would mean much for them. it would reveal either the welcome outlines of the practice ship, or a dreary expanse of desolate ocean. it would tell at once whether they were destined to find hope or be condemned to an uncertain fate.
small wonder then, that clif and joy and trolley stood up and watched and watched as the first faint rays of the sun drew the expanse of ocean from its pall of darkness.
trolley was the first to make a discovery. grasping the swaying mast with one hand, he leaned far out and pointed a shaking finger to an almost shapeless object just visible on the port beam.
a cry in a strange tongue—his own language—came from his lips, then he added, excitedly:
“look! it ship or something. look there, quick!”
“it is not a ship,” replied clif, slowly. “it seems to be a capsized hull or something. perhaps it is a dead whale.”
there was bitter disappointment in his voice.
“it no whale,” insisted the jap. “it too big. i think it as you say, a turned over ship. maybe——”
“i say, there’s something floating over there,” hastily interrupted joy.
he indicated a spot some distance off the port quarter. it was merely a speck tossing about at the mercy of the waves.
clif watched it long and earnestly, then he said, with more excitement than he had yet shown:
“do you know, i believe it is a body tied to a bit of wreckage.”
“let’s investigate. perhaps the person may be still alive, if it is a person.”
clif sprang to the stem and grasped the steering oar, which had been abandoned with the coming of daylight. joy and trolley handled the sail, and the launch was soon lumbering along on the opposite tack.
the sea was subsiding with each passing moment. the breeze was just strong enough to allow of the free handling of the boat. in the east the sun was climbing into a sky almost cloudless. it promised to be a perfect day.
under other circumstances the cadets would have felt light-hearted and happy. but the memory of the recent night and its tragedy, and of their present desperate situation attuned no merry song for them.
as they approached the object floating at the mercy of the waves, they became more and more excited. finally trolley sprang up with a shout.
“it two bodies, and they tied to spar,” he cried. “they no dead. i see one move.”
as if to prove the truth of his words, one of the objects feebly waved an arm.
a faint shout came across the water.
“help! help!”
clif glanced at joy in amazement.
“that voice is familiar,” he exclaimed. “can it be——”
“it is judson greene,” hastily interrupted the lanky lad. “he was in the launch with us last night.”
“i am heartily glad he is saved,” said clif, sincerely. “poor fellow, what a terrible time he must have had last night.”
“no worse than us,” muttered trolley. “he no good anyway. why he saved instead of good man?”
“trolley never forgives an enemy,” said joy. “he has it in for judson greene. and i don’t blame him, either. the fellow is a cad of the first water, and very dirty water at that.”
“we can’t bear animosity under present circumstances,” replied clif. “i don’t like the fellow any more than you do. he’s tried to injure me in a thousand ways, but i am willing to forget it.”
the jap and joy exchanged glances, and the latter said, softly:
“that’s clif all over. he’s as generous as he is brave and good, bless his old heart!”
the launch crept nearer and nearer to the strange bit of flotsam. the body of the other castaway was presently brought into view; then, as the sailboat swept alongside, a simultaneous cry of joy came from the trio:
“it’s nanny!”
the other boy had fallen back, evidently from sheer exhaustion. he half rose again, and cried wildly:
“help me into the boat, faraday. please hurry; i’m nearly dead. quick!”
“the same old judson,” muttered joy. “always thinking of himself. from the looks of things, he’s not half as bad as nanny. the poor youngster is wounded. there’s blood all over his face and head.”
“keep up your spirits,” cheerily called out clif. “we’ll have you with us in a jiffy. stand by, fellows. steady! that’s it. now, judson, give us a hand with nanny.”
but greene cast off the rope binding him to the spar—evidently a fragment of some wrecked mast—and unceremoniously scrambled over the launch’s gunwale.
“thank god!” he gasped, sinking into the bottom. “i thought i’d never see daylight again.”
“still the same old judson,” muttered joy again, assisting clif and trolley to transfer nanny’s insensible form to the launch.
when it was finally accomplished, the little cadet lay like one dead.
clif, by a hasty examination, found that his heart was still beating, however. he applied water to the poor bruised face, and tried every means in his power to revive the lad. he worked with infinite tenderness, as he had great sympathy and affection for little nanny.
at last the boy gasped and opened his eyes. he was still dazed, and he stared at those about him in a strangely terrified manner.
there was fear in his eyes and his actions—a deadly and unexplainable fear. placing his arms before his face as if warding off a blow, he moaned:
“please don’t throw me off, judson. i’ll only hold to the edge. don’t—don’t! have mercy! i—i—don’t want to die. mercy! mercy!”
