Chapter 28

CAST AWAY WITH A PYTHON.

When Jack dived overboard he was so unnerved by the sudden apparition of the fear-frenzied tiger that he rose some distance back of the boat. He came to the surface just in time to see the slaying of the animal and hear Mr. Billings' sharp cry of warning.

Before he could attract attention the boats were all pulling at top speed from the burning ship.

"She's going to blow up!" the words etched themselves on Jack's brain with the rapidity of a photographic plate.

He saw a convulsive tremor shake the big steel fabric and the despairing shouts of the men in the stern rang in his ears. At the same moment he dived and began swimming with all his strength away from the doomed ship. Suddenly came a shock that even under water seemed to drive his ear-drums in.

Then he felt himself seized as if in a giant's grip and dragged down, down, down. His vision grew scarlet. His heart beat as if it must burst from his frame and his entire body felt as if it was being cruelly compressed in a monster vise. Jack knew what had occurred: the boilers of the _Oriana_ had blown up and he was being carried down by the suction of the hull as it sank.

Just as he felt that he could no longer endure the strain, the dragging sensation ceased. Like a stone from a catapult Jack was projected up again to the surface of the sea. The sky, the ocean, everything burned red as flame as he regained the blessed air and sucked it in in great lungfulls.

For a moment or so he was actually unconscious. Then, as his normal functions returned, and his sight grew less blurred, he made out a hatch floating not far from him. He struck out for this and clambered upon it. The sea was strewn with the wreckage of the explosion. Beams, skylights, even charred and blistered metal liferafts floated all about him. But these did not engross Jack's attention for long after he had cast his gaze in the direction where the _Oriana_ last lay. There he encountered an extraordinary sight.

On the surface of the ocean floated the stern section of the sunken steamer. To it still clung the occupants that he had last seen there. Jack rubbed his eyes and looked and looked again. Yes, there was no doubt about it, the after part of the _Oriana_ was still afloat, although how long it would remain so it was impossible to say.

Jack guessed, and as it afterward transpired, guessed correctly, that the watertight bulkhead doors, which had automatically been closed all over the ship when the collision occurred, were sustaining the stern fragment of the ship on the surface. This part of the _Oriana_, unharmed by the explosion or the collision, was now floating much as a corked bottle might be expected to do, excepting, of course, that there was a marked list to the drifting fragment.[1]

[Footnote 1: The after part of the ill-fated tank steamer _Oregon_, sunk 100 miles off Sandy Hook, in 1913, when, during a severe storm, she broke in two, floated with the survivors in exactly the manner described in the _Oriana's_ case.--Author's Note.]

Jack now saw the scattered boats returning to the scene. The man in command of each was urging the crews on with voice and gesture. Not one had been harmed, but it was a narrow escape. Jack set up a shout, but apparently, in the excitement of racing for the floating stern part of the _Oriana_, he was unnoticed. However, this did not alarm him, for he was sure of being able to attract attention before long.

A sudden lurch of the hatchway on which he was drifting, and the sound of a slithering motion as of some heavy body being dragged along some rough surface, made him turn his head.

What he saw made him almost lose his grip on the hatchway.

The hideous flat head and wicked eyes of a huge python faced him. The great snake, escaping somehow from the catastrophe to the menagerie ship, had swum for the same refuge Jack had chosen. Now it was dragging its brilliantly mottled body, as thick as a man's thigh, up upon the hatchway. The floating "raft" dipped under the great snake's weight, while Jack, literally petrified with horror, watched without motion or outcry.

But apparently the snake was too badly stunned by the explosion to be inclined for mischief. It coiled its great body compactly in gay-colored folds on the hatch and lay still. But Jack noticed that its mottled eyes never left his figure.

"Gracious, I can't stand this much longer," thought Jack.

He looked about him for another bit of wreckage to which he might swim and be free of his unpleasant neighbor. But the débris had all drifted far apart by this time and his limbs felt too stiffened by his involuntary dive to the depths of the ocean for him to attempt a long swim.

Not far off he could see the boats busily transferring the castaways of the _Oriana_ on board. Supposing they pulled away from the scene without seeing him? Undoubtedly, they deemed him lost and would not make a search for him. Warmly as the sun beat down, Jack felt a chill that turned his blood to ice-water run over him at the thought. Left to drift on the broad Atlantic with a serpent for a companion and without a weapon with which to defend himself. The thought was maddening and he resolutely put it from him.

So far the great snake had lain somnolently, but now, as the sun began to warm its body, Jack saw the brilliantly colored folds begin to writhe and move. It suddenly appeared to become aware of him and raised its flat, spade-shaped head above its coils.

Its tongue darted in and out of its red mouth viciously. Jack became conscious of a strong smell of musk, the characteristic odor of serpents.

His mouth went dry with fear, although he was naturally a brave lad, as we know. A dreadful fascination seemed to hold him in thrall. He could not have moved a muscle if his life, as he believed it did, depended on his escape. The hideous head began to sway rhythmically in a sort of dance. Still Jack could not take his eyes from that swaying head and darting red tongue. A species of hypnotic spell fell over him. He heard nothing and saw nothing but the swaying snake.

All at once the head shot forward. With a wild yell Jack, out of his trance at last, fell backward off the hatch into the water. At the same instant Mr. Billings' pistol spoke. Again and again he fired it till the great snake's threshing form lay still in death. Unwilling to give Jack up for lost, although he feared in his heart that this was the case, the third officer would not leave the scene till all hope was exhausted. Sweeping the vicinity with his glasses, he had spied the impending tragedy on the hatch.

Full speed had been made to the rescue at once and, as we know, aid arrived in the nick of time. As Jack rose sputtering to the surface strong hands pulled him into the boat. He was told what had happened.

"A narrow escape," said Mr. Billings, beside whom sat Captain Sanders of the lost steamer. He looked the picture of woe.

"I owe my life to you, Mr. Billings," burst out Jack, holding out his hand.

The seaman took it in his rough brown palm.

"That's all right, my lad," he said. "Maybe you'll do as much for me some day."

And then, as if ashamed even of this display of emotion, he bawled out in his roughest voice:

"Give way there, bullies! Don't sit dreaming! Bend your backs!"

As the boats flew back toward where the great bulk of the _Columbia_, her rails lined with eager passengers, rested immobile on the surface of the ocean, the castaway captain turned a glance backward to the stern of his ship, which was still floating but settling and sinking fast. It was easy to guess what his thoughts were.

"That's one of the tragedies of the sea," thought Jack.