CHAPTER VIII.
ANOTHER SIGNAL OF DISTRESS.
Now that the boys had lost all fear of the Bonita, half their troublesseemed suddenly to have vanished. As a matter of course, Harry andWalter grieved because of the sorrow their unexplainable absence musthave caused at home; but their distress of mind was lessened verymaterially by the belief that they would soon be in a condition toreturn.
Even Bob appeared to be relieved by what was evidently the solution ofthe mystery, and it was quite a jolly party which gathered in the saloonto partake of the dinner prepared by Jim.
"Now that things seem to be straightened up a bit, an' all hands arefeelin' kinder nat'ral-like, I reckon we'll get some sail on the oldhooker this afternoon," Bob said when the meal was finished and he hadbegun to make ready for the after-dinner smoke.
"There ain't wind enough to lift a pocket-handkerchief," Jim suggested,"so why do you want more canvas?"
"I don't reckon it'll hold calm a great while, an' we must be ready whenthe breeze does come. There's time now to give Harry an' Walter alesson in workin' ship, an' they need it."
The boys had no objection to make, for a certain amount of labor wasnecessary if they ever hoped to reach home again, and they signifiedtheir willingness to begin at once; but the old sailor insisted onfinishing his smoke before doing anything else.
"There's plenty of time," he said lazily, "an' we'll lay under theawnin' till the sun gets a little nearer the water."
Then he arose from the table, and as the boys followed on deck they wereelectrified by hearing him shout, as he shaded his eyes from the glareand gazed southward:
"There's a steamer, lads! Now all we've got to do is hook on an' betowed into port. Set the flag so's they'll know we're in distress, an'we'll overhaul the hawsers to save time."
Before he ceased speaking the boys had made out that which caused Bob somuch excitement. It was a small craft coming toward them under steam, ascould be told from the thread of smoke which floated on the still air,and after one glance at her Jim hoisted the signal of distress while theothers gathered in the bows to watch the welcome approach.
"It ain't a very big steamer," the young fisherman said as he rejoinedhis companions.
"Most likely she's a tug what's got blown out to sea," Bob replied as hewent into the cabin for a glass; and when he came on deck again the boyswaited impatiently to learn what could be seen.
During fully ten minutes the old sailor held the glass to his eyes,while a mystified expression came over his face as he said to Jim:
"Here, take this an' see what you can make out. It puzzles me, for afact."
"She looks like a tug," the boy said, after gazing at the approachingcraft several seconds; "but there's something queer on her bow."
"What about her spars?" Bob asked impatiently.
"She's got two short masts, and----Why, what's that? She's flying asignal of distress!"
"That's about the size of it," Bob exclaimed as he brought his hand downon the rail with a vigorous slap as if to give emphasis to his words.
"I thought my eyes must be playin' me a trick, so that's why I asked youto look. Her bow has been stove, an' she's workin' up this way forhelp."
"Well," and Jim lowered the glass with a gesture of disappointment,"she's comin' to a pretty poor place, for we've got our hands fulltryin' to help ourselves."
During the next half hour hardly a word was spoken, so occupied were allhands with watching the stranger, which approached very slowly, and atthe end of that time she was almost within hailing distance.
It was a small tug with a flag run half-way up the stumpy mainmast, andher bow stove from the cut-water nearly to the pilot-house. A stream ofwater coming from the starboard side told that the steam-pump wasnecessary to keep her afloat; but no person save a boy about eighteenyears of age, who was at the wheel, could be seen.
"She must be pretty nigh as short-handed as we are," Bob said; and thencame a hail.
"Brig ahoy!"
"Ahoy on the tug!"
"Can you send me some men? The steamer is sinking, and I am the only oneon board."
"Who's running the engine?" Bob shouted.
"I am, and trying to steer at the same time."
"There's only one man an' three boys here. Can't you manage to comealongside?"
The helmsman waved his hand as if in reply and disappeared, when thesteamer's speed was checked. Then he entered the pilot-house again,going below once more to stop the machinery entirely when within fiftyyards of the brig.
By this means the tug was brought so near that a heaving-line could bethrown aboard, and ten minutes later she was lying alongside the Bonitaas a tired, hungry-looking boy stepped over the brig's rail.
"I reckon you've been havin' a decently tough time," Bob said by way ofstarting the conversation.
"Since yesterday morning I've been trying to keep her afloat. If somecraft hadn't hove in sight to-day I should have given up, and probablygone to the bottom with her."
"How did you get in such a mess?"
"An ocean steamer ran into us at sunrise yesterday. Before she couldclear herself every one of the tug's crew, except myself, climbed onboard over the bow. I was the engineer, and had an assistant. He was onduty at the time, and I asleep in the after cabin. The shock of thecollision threw me out of the bunk and stunned me, I reckon, for when Icame on deck there was no craft in sight. Since then I've kept steam onso the pump would work, and run in the hope of sighting some craft."
"Where do you hail from?"
"Philadelphia. The Sea Bird is a new boat, and we were taking her toCuba."
"How long have you been out?"
"Five days from the Capes."
"Then we've made more of a southin' than I reckoned on," Bob said halfto himself, and seeing a look of inquiry on the stranger's face he gavea brief account of the Bonita from the time the boys came aboard;saying, in conclusion: "We're better off than you, for the brig issound; so you'd best bring your traps over the rail an' let the steamersink when she gets ready. I reckon with your help we can crawl in towardthe mainland an' make a tidy bit of salvage at the same time. What'syour name?"
"Joseph Taylor. The only work I have ever done on ship-board has been inthe engine-room, and I'm afraid I sha'n't make much of a sailor."
"You've got strength an' pluck," Bob said approvingly, "an' that'senough."
"But I don't like to give up trying to save the Sea Bird. She isn'tstove below the water-line, is new, and is worth fifteen thousanddollars."
"I'm afraid, lad, that we haven't got force enough to do very much inthe way of ship-building;" and Bob shook his head gravely as if to sayhe thought it a hopeless case. "Howsomever, while there's no wind wesha'n't be wastin' time, so it won't do any harm to have a look at her."
Joe Taylor led the way over the rail, and the three boys, eager to seethe little steamer, followed directly behind Bob, Jim whispering to hisfriends:
"If this cruise don't end pretty soon we shall have a reg'lar cripples'crew aboard. Here's me, who come from the Mary Walker; you, that neverbelonged to any craft; the old Bonita, with nobody to work her; Bob, asa remnant of the Trade Wind, an' now another feller with a sinkin' tug.It's a nice crowd to talk about salvage when they can't helptheirselves!"
"Just let us get ashore once more, an' I'll be satisfied to havesomebody else make money by taking these crafts into port!" and Walterleaped on to the deck of the tug in a discontented way, as if he fanciedthe shuttered steamer had brought fresh trouble and complications uponthem.
The litter of splintered timbers, loose ropes and general wreckage onthe forward deck of the Sea Bird gave her the appearance of havingsuffered more injury than really was the case. Instead of a sharp,narrow bow, as is usual on crafts of her kind, the hull flared verydecidedly from the water-line to the deck, thus giving her greatercarrying capacity; and it was this upper portion which had been cutinto, leaving the lower part in fair condition.
All this Bob saw at a glance
after going on board, and he at once begana careful examination with a view to ascertaining how badly her seamshad been strained.
"What amount of coal have you got?" he asked, coming on deck afterspending fully half an hour in the hold.
"Enough to run three or four days."
"That wouldn't carry her to the Capes, if your reckonin' is right as tothe time she's been out; but we might manage to make some nearer port,"he said half to himself; and then added, in a louder tone: "I calculatethe hole might be patched up with spare canvas an' plenty of tar; butwe'd need fair weather till the job was done."
"If you could manage that part of it I can tow the brig, providing oneof your party steers," said the engineer eagerly. "Why not tackle thejob? If the weather should change it would be only the loss of a fewhours' time."
Before committing himself to such a plan Bob made one more examinationof the shattered timbers, looked again in the hold, and then, afterlighting his pipe in the most deliberate manner, replied decidedly:
"We'll do the best we can, lad, pervidin' the balance of the Bonita'screw is agreeable; an' by patchin' the steamer up I reckon it'll bepossible to pull the brig out of what looks like a bad mess."
He gazed inquiringly at the boys as he ceased speaking, and Harry,answering for the others as well as himself, said in a reasonablycheerful tone:
"We'll do all we know how; and it won't be our fault if we don'tsucceed!"
But even as he spoke he doubted the wisdom of taking another burden ontheir already overloaded shoulders; and that this opinion was shared byJim and Walter could be told from the expression of their faces.
Nevertheless, Bob's intentions were good. With the tug the brig could betowed in a calm, and her progress stayed entirely, or checked, duringthe hours of darkness when the danger of striking a reef would begreatest. An engineer and a helmsman was all the force needed by such anarrangement, and thus the voyage might be brought to a speedy conclusionwithout other aid.