CHAPTER V.
THE FIVE CHILIANS.
The five rescued men were swarthy and undersized. All were barefootedand bareheaded, and clad only in coarse linen shirts and dungareetrousers. They were a dejected-looking lot, and seemed hardly able torealize, as yet, that they had been saved.
The injured man was still lying on the locker, while his mates weresitting up around the sides of the periscope chamber and leaning backagainst the steel walls.
"Who are you?" inquired Matt, seating himself on one of the low stoolswith which the room was supplied.
Four pairs of eyes were turned on him blankly, then three pairs swervedto the largest and heaviest man of the lot, who appeared to be theleader.
"_No sabe_," said this individual.
Matt had picked up a little Spanish while he was in Arizona, but hedid not feel that it was sufficient to enable him to hold an extendedconversation with the rescued men.
"Unlimber your Spanish, Glennie," said he, "and translate it as you goalong. I know something of the lingo, but not enough."
Thereupon the following passed between the ensign and the spokesman forthe five, all being translated as the conversation proceeded:
"Who are you?"
"We come from Valparaiso, Chili, but have been at Sandy Point (PuntaArenas) in the strait for a week."
"What is your business?"
"We worked in the quicksilver mines, but left the mines to ship on aguano boat that was going to the Falklands."
"How did you happen to be at Sandy Point?"
"The guano boat proved unseaworthy. Her seams opened in the strait, andwhile we were feeling our way along toward Sandy Point her boilers blewup. Some of us got ashore and made our way to Sandy Point."
"Then, after that, how did you happen to get wrecked?"
"There was no work for us in Sandy Point, so we hired a small sailboatand were going to the River Plate. The squall struck us, and our boatwent over on her beam ends. The owner of the boat was swept into thesea and drowned, but we managed to get on the boat's bottom, and tiedourselves there. We had given ourselves up for lost when you came toour aid. We are grateful to all of you, se?ors."
There was no reason why Matt and his friends should not believe theChilian's story, and they accepted it exactly as given.
"Tell them, Glennie," said Matt, "that we are not going into theAtlantic, but around into the Pacific. Ask them what they want to do."
Glennie gave the Chilians the substance of this, and their startledlooks aroused Matt's surprise.
"They say," went on Glennie, repeating the spokesman's words, "thatthey do not want to go to Sandy Point or to any port in Chili. Theywant to know how far north we are going along the Pacific coast. If weare going as far as Peru they would like to travel with us."
"Dowse me!" muttered Dick. "We haven't room for them aboard. They'donly be under foot, say nothing of consuming our fresh air and makingan inroad on the stores."
"Why don't they want to go to Punta Arenas?" asked Matt.
Glennie put the question, and all four of the Chilians began toexpostulate excitedly, while the wounded man redoubled his groans.Finally, when the clamor died out, the spokesman answered as follows,his words being faithfully translated by Glennie:
"They say they were suspected of being mixed up in a Chilianrevolution, and that if they are landed at any Chilian port they willbe arrested and shot."
"Py shinks," grunted Carl, "I hope dot ve ain'd going to havesomet'ing more to do mit refoludions. I hat enough oof dot oop inCendral America."
"We all did," seconded Dick.
"We're not going to be caught in any more revolutions," declared Matt."These Sons of the Rising Sun are giving us plenty to think about. Ihadn't intended to stop at Punta Arenas, but we'll have to put in therelong enough to leave these men. If they don't want to take chances inthe town, we'll leave them outside. The injured man we'll take with us,and do our best to look after him. Tell them, Glennie, that that is allwe can do."
"And it's right, too," declared Dick. "We can't run the risk of gettinginto trouble on account of the revolutionists when we've got so much atstake. Why didn't these Chilians explain about the revolution businessat the first? It looks like they were keeping something back."
Glennie's announcement was received with black looks and heartyobjurgations in the Spanish tongue, but gradually the four men settleddown to a sulky attitude which did not look promising.
"They're a grateful lot, I must say!" scowled Dick. "Look at 'em,mates. And to think that we risked our lives to pull 'em in out of thewet!"
"It don't make any difference who they are, Dick," returned Matt. "Inrescuing them we did only our duty, and that's something we can chalkup to our credit. We've got to work through the three hundred and sixtymiles of this strait just as quick as we can. We've sent that otherboat around the Horn, and if we don't reach Smyth Channel ahead of her,all our trouble will go for nothing. The fact that we shall have to layup nights makes it all the more necessary for us to travel at top speedby day. All these men will go ashore at Punta Arenas--the injured maninto the bargain. There must be a hospital in the town, and he can bebetter taken care of there than here."
Glennie repeated this ultimatum, and the looks of the spokesmanunderwent a change. The sullen expression faded from his swarthy faceand he began speaking volubly.
"He says," reported Glennie, "that he is very sorry if he and hiscompanions have put us to any extra trouble. They will go ashore atPunta Arenas--for they would rather be captured and shot, although theyare innocent men, than to inconvenience us. If it hadn't been for us,he says, they would all have been dead men, anyway."
"That's the spirit," approved Matt, "although I don't think, if theyare really innocent, that any harm will happen to them."
Just then Speake came in with tin plates heaped with food, and withtin cups of steaming coffee. He had to make several trips below, butfinally all were supplied and fell to eating.
The Chilians devoured their food more like famished animals than humanbeings, casting aside the knives and forks and using their fingers, andgulping down the hot coffee as though it had been ice water.
"They eat like cannibals," remarked Dick.
"Vat a safeageness!" exclaimed Carl. "Dey act like dey don'd hafnodding to eat for a mont'."
Even the injured Chilian used his left hand and went at his food withthe frantic haste shown by his comrades.
"They'll do," rumbled Dick. "You couldn't kill 'em with a meat axe.That chap on the locker has forgot all about his broken arm."
When the Chilians had emptied their plates they clamored for more.
"We haven't any more," said Speake. "I cooked just enough and made anequal division all around."
Glennie explained to the Chilians, and once more they looked resentful;but, as before, their faces finally cleared and they resignedthemselves to the situation. Matt emptied some of his food upon theplate of the injured Chilian, and without so much as a _gracias_ (thankyou) he devoured it with fierce celerity.
"We'll have to let them sleep in the steel room with you, Glennie,"said Matt, when the meal was done and the eating utensils cleared away."You've got a revolver and you can watch them. It may not be necessaryto have a guard, but it will be just as well. Some one of us will keepawake in this room--Gaines can put in a two-hour watch, then callSpeake. Speake can call Clackett, and Clackett can call Dick. I'llfollow Dick, and by that time, I hope, it will be light enough so wecan start through the strait. We must take advantage of every hour ofdaylight."
Matt's orders were immediately carried out. The four uninjured Chilianswere shown into the room abaft the periscope chamber, and the injuredman was left on the locker. Carl and Matt went down into the torpedoroom, and Dick, Clackett, and Speake sprawled out in the tank roomand motor room. Gaines, in pursuance of orders, went on guard in theperiscope chamber.
Matt, being dog tired, was asleep almost as soon as he lay down on hisblankets. Carl was tired himself, but h
e would have liked to talk alittle, in spite of that. As Matt slipped off into slumber under hisfirst remark, the Dutch boy had to go to sleep.
All was quiet in the boat, save for the ventilator fan humming softlyin the motor room and sending fresh air throughout the steel hull.
No matter how wildly the gale howled over the surface of PossessionBay, thirty feet down in its depths all was quiet and serene.
When Matt was awakened, it was by a wild yell echoing weirdly throughthe vessel. At first he thought he had been dreaming, and he sat up, inthe Stygian blackness of the torpedo room, and listened in bewilderment.
A moment more and he knew that what he had heard was not a dream. Theboat, poised on the ocean bed, rocked with the frantic movements ofsome one in the periscope room.
"Vat id iss, Matt?" came the voice of Carl through the darkness.
"Give it up," answered Matt. "Switch on the light, Carl, so we can seewhat we're about."
Carl could be heard getting to his feet and groping for the electricswitch. Presently the torpedo room was flooded with light and Mattrushed for the open door in the bulkhead.
Just as he reached it, a revolver exploded in the tank room, and abullet whizzed past his head and struck the torpedo tube.
Matt paused only a moment. He knew that the Chilians were up to somerascally piece of work, and that it would stand him and his friends inhand to get busy without delay.