CHAPTER IX

OFF FOR THE SOUTH

Amid the jangling of engine room bells, the hiss of escaping steam, and the hoarse cries of the deck hands, the boat moved majestically out into the broad river, two small but very efficient tugboats pushed and hauled at the heavy steamer, butting their stubby noses desperately against her towering sides to counteract the effects of the strong tide. Long strings of heavily loaded barges, towed by other snorting tugs, passed up and down stream, while numerous ferryboats added their bit to the heavy river traffic.

Leaning over the rail, the three friends were absorbed in watching this busy scene. To them it seemed impossible that their own boat could get safely started without colliding with any of the swarming smaller craft. But after much maneuvering and tooting of whistles the big steamer finally got her nose pointing downstream and headed slowly for the lower bay.

“Gee!” exclaimed Bobby, drawing a deep breath, “I don’t understand yet how we got out here without bumping something. I always thought it was kind of hard to dodge eleven men on a football field without coming to grief, but this makes it look easy.”

“Well, it always did seem to be easy enough for you, as far as that goes,” remarked Fred. “But don’t forget we’ve got lots of chances yet to hit something before we get to New Orleans. The man that steers this overgrown canoe may go to sleep and land us on some nice hard rocks, or we may hit a floating wreck, or—”

“Don’t stop,” urged Lee, as Fred hesitated a moment in search of some other ghastly possibility, “you’ll have us really enjoying this trip pretty soon. Somebody please tie a life preserver on me.”

“Well, perhaps you’ve never been on anything bigger than Monatook Lake, and it’s only right that we experienced sailors should prepare you for the worst. Of course, we may be lucky enough to get there all right, but whatever happens, you can’t say we didn’t warn you.”

“This is a nice time to warn a fellow, isn’t it?” said Lee, with a grin, “but I’m not going to ask the captain to stop the boat now and let me walk ashore, so you may as well save all those cheerful predictions for some other time.”

“He won’t scare worth two cents, will he?” laughed Bobby. “But maybe when he gets his first dose of seasickness he won’t feel so cheerful.”

While the boys were talking, the ship had made steady progress, and now, passing the Statue of Liberty, was well into the lower bay. Here the tugs left it, and the great steamer vibrated from stem to stern as its powerful engines took up the task appointed them. In quick succession they passed the Ambrose and Sandy Hook lights, and began to feel the roll and heave of the great blue ocean.

“Isn’t this great?” exclaimed Bobby. “Just fill your lungs with that air, fellows.”

“The air is fine, all right,” said Fred. “But a little something to fill my stomach wouldn’t be so awful bad, either.”

“That sounds like Pee Wee,” laughed Bobby. “But since you mention it, I begin to feel hungry too. How about you, Lee?”

“You bet,” exclaimed the boy from the South, but his voice lacked the tone of sincerity. Fred looked at him and grinned.

“What’s the matter, Lee?” he inquired. “You don’t mean to tell me you’re feeling seasick, do you?”

“Of course I’m not seasick.”

“No, of course he isn’t seasick,” said Bobby, with a wink at Fred. “He just doesn’t feel well, that’s all. People are often that way on salt water. It must be something about the air, I guess.”

“Yes, that’s probably it,” agreed Fred, in a tone of deep sympathy. “What you need, Lee, is a good bang up supper to set you up. How would a nice pork chop or two hit you?”

“I don’t know how they’d hit me, but I do know that something is going to hit you pretty quick, if you don’t stop talking about eats,” retorted Lee. “You two go on down and eat your heads off. I’m going to stay up here a while. I had a big lunch, anyway.”

“Well, you probably won’t have it much longer,” was Fred’s parting shot, as he and Bobby started on a run for the dining room.

There were a number of empty places around the tables, but Bobby and Fred enjoyed the meal hugely, with appetites no whit affected by the uneasy motion of the ship. When they had finished, they went on deck again, and found Lee coiled up in a steamer chair, and looking far from happy.

“Guess I’ll have to admit that I’m seasick,” he said, with a somewhat feeble grin, “but I’ve got lots of company, anyway. Most everybody I’ve seen so far seems to be as bad or worse than I am.”

“Oh, well, it probably won’t last long,” said Bobby. “If you can get a decent rest to-night, you’ll be all right in the morning.”

“I wouldn’t mind so much now if we did hit some of those rocks Fred was talking about,” went on the boy from the South. “If I could get onto a nice solid rock right now, I know I’d feel a whole lot better.”

But when the next morning came, the ocean was very calm, and Lee felt almost himself again, so that he could aid his two friends in their attacks on the excellent meals that were provided for them. They read, played deck games, and altogether enjoyed themselves immensely. On the second day of the trip, they noticed that the air was becoming perceptibly warmer, and knew that they were getting into southern waters. Schools of porpoises raced with the ship, and the boys never tired watching them shooting through the water just under the ship’s bows, and keeping up their speed without any apparent effort. Several times they saw little flying fish, and once Fred was sure that he saw a shark, but when the ship came up with the object that he had seen, it proved to be nothing more ferocious than a half submerged log.

“Some sailor, you are,” said Lee, anxious to get even with Fred for some of the remarks passed on his own seamanship. “I may not be as salty as some people think they are, but still I can tell fishes from trees.”

“Well, I’m glad you know that much, anyway,” said Fred. “You certainly are coming along fast. Some day, when you get over calling portholes windows, you’ll be a real sailor.”

“I don’t think I ever want to be a sailor,” retorted Lee. “Good old solid ground is good enough for me. Seems to me this old tub is jumping around worse all the time.”

“It would be strange if it didn’t,” said Bobby. “The wind is getting stronger every minute, and it’s working up some pretty big seas.”

Almost as he finished speaking a big wave dashed against the bow, and showered them with spray.

“I’m going some place where it’s dry!” gasped the boy from the South, and dashed for the companionway. Bobby and Fred lingered a while, but were soon, forced to seek shelter in the lee of a deckhouse. They could see members of the crew going about making every movable object fast, and they guessed that they were in for a storm.