CHAPTER X.
THE TIGERS OF THE SEA.
The storm-driven schooner drove past the swamped boat, with its two castaways clinging to it, in a smother of foam and spray. So fast was she traveling that hardly had her outlines loomed up before they were lost again in the darkness. Nat caught himself wondering if that night was to prove the last of the schooner's existence. But it may be stated here that the "Nettie Nelsen," staunch sea boat that she was, weathered the storm unharmed.
The storm-driven schooner drove past the swamped boat,
with its two castaways clinging to it.
"Vell, here iss der vorst fix I voss ever in since I bin going py der sea."
It was Captain Nelsen who spoke, as a pallid and wild dawn broke over the raging sea, showing nothing but tossing whitecaps as far as the eye could reach. Overhead great torn ribbands of cloud were hurried by, their black outlines macerated by the wind which was still blowing hard. But rough as the sea still was and strong as the wind remained, there was no doubt that the fury of the gale was over. In a short time it would have blown itself out.
This was encouraging to the castaways, but even with calm seas their position would still have been a desperate one. Adrift on the trackless Pacific, without food or fresh water, and so far as they knew, far from the line of travel of ships, the man and the boy clinging to the waterlogged boat were in about as bad a fix as can be imagined.
Nat, too, strong as he was, began to feel the strain. The long period he had gone without food, for he had tasted nothing since the meal which Hicks and Britt had brought him, was beginning to tell on him. Captain Nelsen's iron frame, however, inured to hardship and peril, was as vigorous as ever, or so it seemed.
As the wind began to moderate he cast his eyes about for something with which they might bale out the "Nettie Nelsen's" boat. He was particularly anxious to get this task accomplished in order that they might have a sanctuary from danger which had just occurred to him. The thought of this new peril actually blanched the captain's weather-beaten cheeks, but a quick glance at Nat's worn countenance, white and lined with anxiety, told him that he had better not add to the strain on the lad by mentioning what had just crossed his mind.
The water was warm, fortunately, but even so Nat began to feel chilled and cold. This was partly due to the fact that he had taken no nourishment for so long a period. It was a symptom of exhaustion.
At length the sun rose, and as his rays gilded the tossing seas the wind began to die down till within a short time all trace of the storm had vanished. The sea grew smooth and the air hot. Captain Nelsen's first impulse was to look about for a sign of the "Nettie Nelsen," but not a trace of her was to be seen. She had vanished as utterly as the storm before which she was driving when they saw her last.
"Vell, dere vos some comfort in dot, anyhow," said the captain to himself; "dose murdering thieves von't get us even if der sharks——"
The sharks!
That was the peril of which Captain Nelsen had refrained speaking to Nat. As the above reflection crossed his mind, the honest German's eyes almost popped out of his head at the sight of something he perceived not far from the boat, moving aimlessly about on the now smooth water.
The object was a black triangular fin!
As he gazed it was joined by another and yet another, till there were six in all.
But at almost the same instant as the captain had sighted the sharks, Nat, who had been gazing down into the water which filled the boat in the hope of getting something to bale with, gave a cry of joy. In the bow, wedged in under a triangular brace, was a baling can belonging to the craft. And what to his eyes was almost as welcome a sight, farther back in the little craft and beneath a seat which had doubtless prevented it being washed overboard, was the sapphire chest. Nat's drooping spirits were considerably revived by these two discoveries, and he greeted the captain, who had looked up at the lad's cry of delight, with a feeble cheer.
"Hooray, captain! Never say die! With that can we'll have the boat baled out before long and——"
He stopped short as he caught sight of the seaman's doleful expression.
"What's the matter?" he asked. "True, we are not out of troubles yet, but with a good boat under us."
"Dot iss idt," returned the captain from his side of the boat. "How voss vee to get der boat under us?"
"Bale her out, of course."
"Budt she is now on a lefel mit der vater. Vot is der use of baling. As fast as vee bale out der Bacifig he come in."
"By George, that's so," agreed Nat, immensely crestfallen; "but see here," he went on, with a sudden flash of inspiration, "it's only our weight that keeps her level with the water. Yours particularly. Why can't we let go for a few seconds and swim at the stern while I bale out a few canfuls?"
"Dot vould be a goot idee if idt vossn't for vun ding," rejoined the captain, with a wry face.
"And that is?"
"Sharks!"
Nat shuddered as he heard the dread word.
"Sharks! Where?" he demanded.
"Here, there, undt everyveres," rejoined the German.
And now Nat saw what, but for his search for a baling can, he would have perceived earlier, and that was that the water about the boat was by this time fairly alive with the sea tigers. His heart sank with alarm and despondency. It seemed hard to be spared during the rigors of the storm only to meet this new and deadly danger.
"What are we to do, captain?"
"I don't know alretty," came the frank response. "Der only ding I can dink off is to get into der boat."
"Won't she sink?"
"No der air chambers will buoy her oop, budt at dot vee shan't be mooch bedder off."
"That's true," agreed Nat ruefully, "but in any event we shall be partially protected."
Acting on this idea, they clambered painfully into the boat; their limbs, however, were so stiff and cramped from their long immersion that this was a slow and tedious process.
It was accomplished at length, though, but their weight in the craft sank her even lower in the water so that they were almost waist deep in the sea as they clung to the thwarts.
The sharks had grown bolder, too, now. All about them they could see the flash of greeny-white bodies as the sea monsters slowly circled the boat, as if making up their minds from which side to attack it first.
"Beadt on der vater mit your hands," counselled the German. "Dose sharks iss pig cowards undt maype vee scare dem off for a vile."
Nat beat his hands furiously on the water, churning it into foam, and, as Captain Nelsen had predicted, the sharks—even the boldest of them—sheered off. But it was only for a short time. They presently reappeared and seemed to be bolder than before.
Nat gazed at them with frank alarm, and Captain Nelsen was scarcely less perturbed. Although they both beat on the water now and made all the noise they could, the sharks seemed to be growing less and less afraid of them. Nat could almost see a contemptuous gleam in the creatures' piggy little eyes as they swam round the boat.
All at once one of them, seeming to tire of this aimless circling, made a sudden dash at the craft. Nat fairly shouted with alarm and perhaps his cry scared the creature off. At any rate, they were saved for that time, but it grew very evident that before long a moment would arrive when they could no longer hold the creatures at bay.
It was just then that the captain gave a shout.
"Idiotcy dot I voss," he yelled, so that Nat thought he had lost his mind under the stress of their situation; "idiotcy dot I voss. Dere is somedings in dis very boadt dot vill drive dose fellows avay."
"What do you mean?" demanded the astonished Nat.
"Dot der last time dis boat vos used vos ven ve vos painting der ship sides. Ve didt not finish der chob before ve had to sail, undt a big can of acid vot vee use for cleaning off der oldt paint vos put in dot stern locker."
"In that box under the seat?" asked Nat excitedly, half guessing what the captain was driving at.
"Yah. Of you can reach it and der can is still dere, ve soon get ridt of der sharks. Ve poison der sea, by Yupiter."
"By pouring the acid into it!" cried Nat enthusiastically.
As he was the nearest to the stern of the submerged boat, it fell to him to open the locker and there, sure enough, was a big ten-gallon can of caustic acid. The boy dragged it out and extracted the cork. The pungent liquid was then poured on the waters about the boat.
Instantly the sea in the vicinity turned white as milk and they could see the sharks' bodies flash as they fled before the poisonous impregnation of the waters.
"Hooray!" shouted Nat, forgetting that even with the sharks gone they were almost in the same position as before, so far as hopelessness was concerned.
Almost at once, however, the realization overcame him. Adrift on the broad ocean, immersed to their waists in a sodden boat, what hope had they of rescue. In the extremity of his despair Nat groaned aloud. But his doleful exclamation was interrupted by the captain. That individual, who had been raising himself as high as he dared in the boat and gazing about over the sunlit, desolate waters, gave a sudden guttural shout, that was almost a scream:
"Look! Look!" he shouted, pointing. "Py yiminy, dere's a ship or I'm vun Dutchman!”