Janet Aldridge - The Meadow Brook Girls by the Sea
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Janet Aldridge >> The Meadow Brook Girls by the Sea
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"How is the glass?" she asked, but in a voice too low for her
companions to hear. Harriet referred to the barometer.
"It has fallen over an inch in two hours," answered Captain Billy.
"That is a big drop, isn't it?"
"I should say so. But don't say anything to the others," he added,
with a quick glance at the girls to see if any had overheard either
his or Harriet Burrell's remarks.
"It means a blow, does it not?"
"Yes. But it may be a long way off, possibly a hundred miles or more."
"Then, again, we may be right in the center of it?" she questioned.
The skipper nodded again.
"Is there anything to be done?"
"Nothing except to make all the time we can and keep a weather eye
aloft and abroad. Watch your sails and trim them for every breath of
air. Jockey her. Now is your time to see what can be done when there
is little wind to be had."
Harriet was getting practical experience in sailing a boat such as
falls to few novices, but she took to the work like one who had long
been used to the sea and its varying moods. Under her skilful
manipulation the "Sister Sue" was making fairly good headway, though
nothing like what she had done on the outward voyage, for the wind was
dying out, becoming more fitful, shifting from one point of the
compass to another.
"When the wind moves opposite to the direction of the hands of a
clock--what seamen call 'against the clock'--look out for foul
weather," the captain informed her.
"That is the way it is going now, isn't it?"
"Yes."
"I hope we shall have enough to take us home."
"We may have too much." Once more the skipper studied the horizon to
the northeast. That he was not pleased with his observation Harriet
was confident. Again he took a long look at the barometer, glanced at
the compass to see that she was on her course, then, thrusting his
hands into his pockets, studied the rigging overhead.
"We aren't making much headway, are we?" questioned Miss Elting.
"None at all," was the, to her, surprising reply; "we're in a dead
calm now."
The waves had taken on an oily appearance and there were no longer
white crests on the rollers. The "Sister Sue" rolled and plunged in a
sickening way, the boom swinging from side to side. All hands were in
the cockpit or cabin, however, so that there was no danger of their
being hit by the swinging boom. In the cabin was heard a series of
groans more agonized than before. The guardian had recovered in a
measure, though they observed that she was very pale. The fresh air
outside revived her somewhat.
"I wish you to tell me frankly if there is any danger?" she demanded.
"Not yet," was the skipper's evasive answer.
"Meaning that there may be later?"
"We may be late getting home," he replied. "I can't say any more than
that now. Ugh!"
Harriet Burrell saw him gazing off to the northeast. She followed the
direction of his glance, and saw a purplish haze hanging heavily on
the horizon. As she gazed the purple haze seemed to grow darker and to
increase in size. The sight disturbed her, though she did not know
why. The sea now made little noise. A flock of seagulls could be
plainly heard honking high overhead, and a chattering flock of stormy
petrels soared down, coming to rest on the water in the wake of the
sloop.
"I'll take in the jibs. Mind your wheel. We are in for a blow,"
announced the skipper.
CHAPTER XXII
IN THE GRIP OF MIGHTY SEAS
The captain quickly furled the jibs, then took a reef in the mainsail.
Consulting the skies again, he decided to leave one of the jibs up, so
set it once more and took another reef in the mainsail, thus
shortening the latter considerably.
The "Sister Sue" was now making no headway at all, but was rolling
dizzily from wave to wave, now and then a swell striking the side of
the little boat and tumbling torrents of green water over into the
cockpit. The girls were set to work bailing. They already were soaked
to the skin, though, instead of being disturbed, they were laughing
joyously, thinking it great fun. Their attention was called to a
school of porpoises that came leaping toward them, appearing at first
like miniature geysers springing out of the oily green seas. The
porpoises divided, passing on either side of the sloop and close
aboard, racing on toward the land that lay off yonder somewhere in the
green distance.
It was now impossible to stand without holding fast to something that
would not give. Harriet had never seen a boat roll so fast. From side
to side it lurched, plunging at the same time, both with almost
incredible speed. Her own head was beginning to spin. Tommy's face was
pale.
"You're getting seasick," smiled Harriet, eyeing her friend sharply.
"No, I'm not," protested the little girl "You're getting thick
yourthelf."
"I confess to being dizzy," admitted Harriet, "but I am not so ill
that I must go to bed. Keep outside. You will be much better off than
in the cabin, where the air is close and the others are suffering."
"I'm going to, thank you." Tommy stood braced against the cabin, her
keen little eyes observing the now serious face of the skipper. "I
gueth thomething ith going to happen," she observed.
"Don't tell the others," cautioned Harriet, with a warning shake of
the head.
"I don't intend to. What ith it, a thtorm?"
Harriet nodded.
"I knew it. I jutht knew thomething wath going to break loothe."
The purple haze was nearing at a rapid rate of speed, and Harriet
Burrell saw that with it the sea was piling up, its white crests angry
and menacing.
"Try to keep the wind dead astern," ordered the skipper. "I will
handle the sheets. Do you think you can manage it?"
"Yes, sir. I will be on the lookout for orders. You may depend upon
me, sir."
"Then we'll weather it, but we shall get pretty wet, and night is
coming on, too. We're going to have a merry night of it! All hands who
do not wish to get a ducking go below," shouted the skipper.
Miss Elting, Jane, Harriet and Tommy remained outside. The captain
tossed a rope to each, directing them to tie the ropes about their
waists, making the lines fast to a cleat on the after end of the
raised deck cabin.
"Just for safety's sake," he nodded.
The wind was beginning to whistle through the rigging, the water to
foam under the bows of the "Sister Sue," showing that she was getting
under good headway.
"Port one point," bellowed the skipper. Harriet instantly obeyed the
command. Then the gale was upon them with a screech and a roar. A
volume of water that threatened to swamp them rolled toward the stern,
but before it had done so Harriet, acting upon a sharply uttered
command, had swung the sloop about until its nose met the oncoming
rush of wind and water. She gasped for breath as the flood of salt
water enveloped her; yet, bracing her feet, clung firmly to the
wheel, holding the craft on the new course. Afterward Harriet had a
faint recollection of having seen her companions swimming on the green
sea in the little cockpit, Tommy's pale face standing out more
prominently than all the rest.
"We made it," roared the skipper. "Now hold her steady, and she will
ride it out like a duck." He grabbed up a pail and began bailing with
all his might. Jane did likewise, then Miss Elting lent her
assistance. Tommy was clinging to the cabin roof with all her might.
Before the storm struck them they had not thought to light their
masthead and side lights. Now it was next to impossible to do so. The
sloop was rushing through the seas without a light to mark her
presence on the sea that was growing more wild with the moments. But
the binnacle light was burning steadily over the compass, so that the
helmswoman was able to see in which direction they were heading. The
compass told her that, instead of making headway toward land, they
were rushing along at a frightful rate of speed toward Europe. Still,
she realized that this was the only safe course to follow.
All at once Harriet Burrell uttered a sharp cry of alarm. She threw
the wheel over so suddenly that a wave smashing against the side of
the sloop nearly turned them turtle. Captain Billy, with quick
instinct, let go the mainsail, which swung out far to leeward, thus
saving the little craft from being upset. Up to this moment he did not
know what the sudden shifting meant, but just as he was about to
bellow to the helmswoman he caught sight of a towering mass of lights
that for the moment seemed to hang over them, then flashed on, missing
the "Sue" by a few scant rods of water. They had had a narrow escape
from being run down by a steamer. But for Harriet's quickness, nothing
could have saved them. It was plain that those on the bridge of the
steamer had not discovered the small boat in the sea under their bows,
for they did not even hail.
"Good work," bellowed the skipper.
"I thought we'd got to Europe," shouted Tommy.
"Lay her to. I've got to close reef that sail," commanded the captain.
Harriet pointed the bow right into the teeth of the wind. Oh, how that
little craft did plunge! At times it seemed as if the greater part of
her length were wholly out of water, that she had taken a long,
quivering leap from the crest of one great wave to another. So hard
was she pitching that she had little time left in which to roll. Salt
spray rained down over the decks until the cabin itself was almost
wholly hidden from the view of the girl at the wheel. In the meantime
the captain had reefed the mainsail down to the last row.
"Now let her off a few points," he directed.
Boom!
"Oh, what was that?" cried Miss Elting, her voice barely heard in the
shriek of the gale. "What happened?"
"Jib gone by the board," shouted the captain. "Lucky if we don't lose
the mainsail the same way."
Harriet had not uttered a sound when the startling report had boomed
out above the roar of the storm, but her heart had seemed to leap into
her throat. Her arms had grown numb under the strain of holding the
wheel, for the sea was hurling its tremendous force against the craft,
requiring great effort on the part of the helmswoman to keep the boat
on its course. But she clung doggedly to her chosen task, seeking to
pierce the darkness ahead with her gaze. The salt water made her eyes
smart so that she could scarcely see at all. Yet she could feel the
wind on her face, and by that guide alone she was enabled to keep the
"Sue" headed into the storm. She long since had ceased trying to keep
the boat on a compass course, for the greater part of the time the
compass card was invisible either through the spray or solid water,
as the case might be.
It was marvelous how the little boat stood up under the bombardment of
the Atlantic rollers and the mountains of water that hurled themselves
upon her. Harriet was standing in water up to her knees, but,
fortunately, every time the boat rolled or plunged, a volume of salt
water was hurled out into the sea itself.
In the cabin everything movable was afloat. The passengers in there
were nearly drowned at times, but in their fright most of them had
forgotten their seasickness. They were clinging to the seats in most
instances, screaming with fear. Miss Elting, deciding that her
presence was needed in the cabin rather than outside, plunged into the
dark hole head-first. Quickly gathering herself together, she did her
best to calm and comfort the girls, though every plunge of the boat
she expected would be its last. It did not seem possible that the
little craft could weather the gale.
Suddenly there came a mighty crash above their heads, followed by a
ripping, tearing sound, and above it all sounded the screams of the
girls who were fighting their great battle out there in the cockpit of
the "Sister Sue."
The girls in the cabin threw themselves into one another's arms,
screaming wildly.
"Stop it!" shouted Miss Elting. "Be brave, girls. Remember, you are
Camp Girls!"
The cabin doors burst in and a great green wave hurled them the length
of the cabin, crushing them against the bulkhead at the far end, the
guardian clinging, gasping, nearly drowned, to a rail above the
doorway.
CHAPTER XXIII
WAGING A DESPERATE BATTLE
"We're lost!" exclaimed Miss Elting, turning back into the cabin. But
she was suddenly attracted by a shout from without.
"Cut away!" screamed Harriet. "Jane, are you there? Tommy!"
"He's gone!" It was Jane's voice that answered in a long, wailing cry.
The water was rapidly receding from the cabin. Miss Elting quickly
straightened the girls out. She did not know how seriously they had
been hurt, if at all, but after making sure that all within the cabin
were alive, the guardian groped her way to the cockpit. Harriet stood
braced against the wheel, shouting out her commands, screaming at the
top of her voice to make herself heard and understood above the gale.
The guardian staggered over to her.
"Oh, what has happened?" she cried.
"The mast has gone overboard--part of it at least, and--"
"Captain Billy's gone, too! The boom struck and carried him over!"
yelled Jane when she had crept near enough to be heard.
"Cut away, I tell you. Here is a hatchet." Harriet had groped in the
locker, from which she drew a keen-edged hatchet and handed it to
Crazy Jane McCarthy. "You'll have to be quick. We're being swamped.
See, we are taking water over the side. Oh, _do_ hurry, Jane!"
"The captain gone!" moaned Miss Elting. "Can nothing be done?"
"No." Harriet's voice was firm. "Unless we work fast we shall all go
to the bottom. We must save those on the boat, Miss Elting. But you
listen for his voice. Oh, this is terrible!"
The steady whack--whack of the hatchet in the hands of Jane McCarthy
came faintly to their ears. Once Jane slipped over the side into the
water; but, grasping the life-line to which she was tied, the girl
pulled herself back on the deck and set pluckily to work again. It was
the wonder of Harriet Burrell that the "Sue" kept afloat at all, for
she was more under water than above it, and the seas were breaking
over her.
"Please get back and look after the girls. Where is your life-line?"
asked Harriet of Miss Elting.
"I threw it off when I went into the cabin."
"Get back! Stay there until I call you, or--"
Harriet did not finish the sentence, but the guardian understood and
turned back into the cabin, where she did her best to comfort the
panic-stricken Camp Girls.
"Whoop!" shrieked Jane.
The "Sue" righted with a violent jolt. Jane had freed the side of the
boat of the rigging which, attached to the broken mast and sail, was
holding the craft down and threatening every second to swamp her. Jane
crept down into the cockpit, and was about to cut away the stays that
held the wreckage, which was now floating astern of the sloop.
"Stop!" commanded Harriet. "Wait till we see what effect it has on us,
but stand by to cut away if we see there is peril. Oh, I hope we shall
be able to ride it out. That poor captain! He must have been stunned
by a blow of the boom. It seems cruel to stand here without lifting a
hand to save him. But what can we do? Jane, is there anything you can
think of that we can do?"
Crazy Jane shook her head slowly.
"Nothing but to tell his family, if we ever get back to land," was
her solemn reply. "But, darlin', we aren't on land ourselves yet, and
I doubt me very much if we ever shall be. See the waves breaking over
this old tub. How long do you think she will stand it?"
Harriet did not answer at once. She was peering forward into the
darkness. Holding up her hand, she noted the direction of the wind.
"Do you see, Jane, the 'Sue' is behaving better! She isn't taking
nearly so much water. Do you know what has happened?"
"What is it, darlin'?"
"The wreckage that you cut away is holding the stern and acting as a
sea anchor, and it has pulled the bow of the boat around until we are
headed right into the gale. I am glad I didn't let you cut loose the
wreckage. It may be the very thing that will save us, but I don't
know. I wish you would get some one to help you bail out the pit. The
water is getting deep in here again, and the cabin is all afloat."
"But more will come in," objected Jane.
"And more will swamp us, first thing we know. You take the wheel. I
will bail."
"I'll do it myself, darlin'."
Jane asked Hazel to assist her, and together they slaved until it
seemed as if their backs surely would break.
The storm, while not abating any, did not appear to increase in fury.
It was severe enough as it was. The seas loomed above the broken craft
like huge, black mountains, yet somehow they seemed to break just a
few seconds before engulfing her and to divide, passing on either
side, but the "Sister Sue" wallowed in a smother of foam, creaking and
groaning, giving in every joint, and threatening to fall to pieces
with each new twist and turn forced upon her by the writhing seas.
Miss Elting, after having in a measure quieted the girls in the cabin,
came out clinging to a rope. She and Harriet held a shouted
conversation, after which the guardian returned to the cabin, where
there was less danger of being beaten down by huge seas, although one
could get fully as wet inside the cabin as on deck.
The hours of the night wore slowly away. The intense impenetrable
blackness, the roar and thunder of the sea, the terrible jerking,
jolting and hurling beneath them, shook the nerves of the girls,
keeping them constantly in a half-dazed condition that perhaps
lessened the keenness of their suffering. Harriet and Jane, however,
never for a single second relaxed their vigilance, or left a single
thing undone that would tend to ease the boat or to contribute to its
safety. The binnacle light long since had been extinguished by the
water, making it impossible to see the compass to tell which way they
were headed. Little good it would have done them to know, either, they
being powerless to change their course, or to make any headway at all,
save as they drifted with the seas. Harriet hoped they might be
drifting toward shore. Instead, they were being slowly carried down
the coast and parallel with it.
At last the gray of the early dawn appeared in the east, but it was a
"high dawn," with the light first appearing high in the sky, meaning
to sailors wind or storm. Harriet did not know the meaning of it,
however, though she thought it a most peculiar looking sky. And now,
as the light came slowly, they were able to get an idea what the sea
in which they had been wallowing all night looked like. It was a
fearsome sight. As they gazed their hearts sank within them. Mountains
of leaden water rose into the air, then sank out of sight again, and
when the "Sue" went into one of those troughs of the sea it was like
sinking into a great black pit from which there was no escape. Yet the
buoyant hull of the sloop rose every time, shaking the water from her
glistening white sides and bending to the oncoming seas preparatory to
taking another dizzy dive.
The lower half of the mast was still standing, a ragged stump, the
deck itself swept clean of every vestige of wreckage and movable
equipment. What troubled Harriet most was the loss of the water cask.
The small water tank in the cabin had been hurled to the floor by the
pitching of the sloop and its contents spilled. The Meadow-Brook Girl
saw that they were going to be without water to drink, a most serious
thing, provided they were not drowned before needing something to
drink. As she studied the boat, an idea was gradually formed in her
mind, a plan outlined that she determined to try to adopt were the
wind to go down sufficiently to make the attempt prudent. Harriet
called the others to her, and the girls talked it over in all its
details for the better part of an hour.
There was nothing to eat on board now, nor did many of the party feel
like eating. Tommy, however, found her appetite shortly after daybreak
and raised quite a disturbance because there was nothing to be had.
She suggested breaking open the doors that led to the chain locker,
but of this Harriet would not hear. She did not wish water to get in
there, for that appeared to be the one part of the boat that was now
free from it, and that really had saved them from going to the bottom.
In the meantime the wind did not appear to be abating in the
slightest. All that wretched forenoon the majority of the girls,
half-dead from fright and exposure, clung desperately to the cushions
of the locker seats, wild-eyed and despairing. All that forenoon
Harriet Burrell, Jane McCarthy, Tommy, Hazel and Miss Elting stuck to
their posts and worked without once pausing to rest. About noon the
wind suddenly died out, then began veering in puffs from various
quarters of the compass.
"Now, Jane, is our chance," cried Harriet. "The storm is broken, but
the seas will be high all the rest of the day. If we can fix up some
sort of a sail, we may be able to reach land before long."
CHAPTER XXIV
CONCLUSION
When the "Sister Sue" failed to return the previous afternoon, and the
storm came on, Mrs. Livingston, greatly alarmed, sent a party of girls
with a guardian to the nearest telephone to send word to Portsmouth
that the sloop and its passengers were missing. A revenue cutter was
sent out to look for them, first, however, having been in
communication with the ocean liner the girls had passed by wireless,
learning from the captain of the ship of their having sighted the
"Sister Sue" and giving the latter's position at the time. This
served as a guide for the revenue boat, which steamed through the
great seas until daylight.
There were no signs of the missing sloop; but, reasoning that, if the
boat was still afloat, it must have been blown down the coast, the
revenue boat headed in that direction. It was not until three o'clock
in the afternoon, however, that the lookout reported seeing something
floating in the far distance, off the starboard bow. A study of this
object through the glasses led the captain to turn his cutter in that
direction. An hour later he was close enough to see that it was a
dismantled boat, and that there were people aboard it.
Full speed ahead was ordered and the revenue boat rapidly drew up. A
strange spectacle was revealed to the officers and men of the revenue
cutter as she approached close enough to make out details. The
dismantled sloop was lying very low in the water, showing that she was
in a bad way. To the top of the stump of the mast a staple had been
driven and through this a rope run. This rope held a jib, the greater
part of which was on the deck because there was not height enough to
spread it all. But what there was of the jib was pulling well in the
fresh breeze and the sloop was wallowing through the seas, making
fair headway toward land, which now was not more than fifteen miles
away.
Harriet Burrell, still at the wheel, was giving her full attention to
handling the boat, leaving to her companions the task of attracting
the attention of the cutter, which, however, had seen the sloop long
before the passengers on her had discovered the revenue boat.
The captain of the cutter lay to as close to the sloop as he dared go,
then held a megaphone conversation with the survivors. Harriet replied
that she thought she would be able to get the boat to shore, but
suggested that they take off the other girls. The captain would not
listen to Harriet's first proposition. After a perilous passage he
finally succeeded in getting a boat's crew aboard the sloop, the
skipper himself accompanying the rescue party.
"And you brought this tub through the gale?" he questioned, turning to
Harriet after hearing a brief account of the loss of Captain Billy and
the consequent experiences of the "Sister Sue's" passengers.
"It was purely good luck, sir," answered Harriet modestly.
"It was something a great deal stronger than luck," answered the
captain. "The sea is going down. As soon as it is down enough to be
safe I will put you all aboard the cutter."
"Are you going to leave the sloop?" asked Miss Elting.
"No. We want that boat for reasons of our own. We wish to look it over
at our leisure. Your sea anchor saved you, that and good seamanship.
Miss Burrell, it is a pity you are not a man. You would be commanding
a ship in a few years. I think we had better transfer you now. I'm
afraid of the sloop."
The transfer was a thrilling experience for the Camp Girls. Several
times they narrowly missed being upset and thrown into the sea, but
after more than two hours' work everyone had been safely landed on
the deck of the revenue boat. Three men were put aboard the sloop, a
lifeboat being left with them in case the "Sue" foundered. The revenue
cutter then started towing her toward home. It was late in the evening
when finally they came to anchor off Camp Wau-Wau. The surf was
running so high that it was decided not to put the girls ashore until
the following morning, though the "Sue" was cast off from her tow and
allowed to drift into the bay. From here her crew rowed ashore and
informed the anxious Camp Girls that everyone of their companions was
safe.
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