CHAPTER XXII.

A NIGHT OF ALARMS.

Castaways on the open sea in a boat without water, food or oars!

It was a situation to frighten the bravest. To add to the peril of the boys' position, they had too appalling evidence of the fact that the North Sea was strewn with floating mines which, even the impact of a small craft, like the one in which they were drifting at the mercy of the winds and waves, would serve to detonate.

Small wonder, then, that after a while conversation grew more and more desultory until at length they each sat silent, gloomily surveying their predicament. Fortunately, there was no hot sun to beat down on them and aggravate the thirst both were already beginning to feel. But even with cool weather they could not hope to fight off the agonies of thirst for long. Food, so far, was a secondary consideration.

Then, too, the frail nature of their craft gave them cause for anxiety. The gale showed as yet no signs of breaking up. From time to time the ragged tops of great waves were ripped off by the fury of the wind, deluging the boat in spray. It was necessary to keep bailing constantly if they hoped to remain afloat.

The constant buffeting to which they were subjected was dizzying and nauseating. Both lads ached in every limb. In a way they were glad to have the exercise afforded by bailing, for it went a long way to keeping their minds employed and their limbs from stiffening in the cramped, wet boat.

Yet their nerves showed no outward sign of a breakdown. From time to time they exchanged sentences intended to be cheerful; but it was a ghastly sort of merriment of which they soon tired. Thus the hours wore away and darkness set in with a slight dimunition of the violence of the wind and signs, by the clearing of the sky, that the break of the gale was at hand.

But they dared not sleep through the hours of darkness, except in hasty snatches. Had the bailing pail been left alone for even an hour, the boat inevitably would have been swamped. By midnight, though, the sea was much smoother. Their dizzied heads, racked by the incessant tossing, became clearer. They looked about them. Suddenly Jack gave a shout.

"Look! Look yonder!"

A short distance off, and apparently bearing down on them, were the red and green sidelights and the bright white mast-head signal of a steamer!

Bill broke into a shout.

"Hurray, Jack, we're saved!"

"Not so fast, Bill. They may not see us in the dark."

"That's so. I'd give a million dollars, if I had it, for a box of matches and some good dry stuff to burn for a signal."

"Not having those things, there's no use worrying about them," returned Jack quietly, "but say, Bill, see here."

His voice was anxious. He gazed nervously at the approaching lights.

"That steamer's coming right down on us. We can see both her sidelights."

"Well, so much the better. She's bound to see us."

"Haven't you thought of another possibility?"

"What do you mean?"

"Of a great danger?"

"I don't understand you."

"She's headed straight for us and we can't get out of the way. If she doesn't change her course, it will be a miracle if she doesn't run us down."

"I hadn't thought of that," said Bill in sobered tones. "What can we do?"

"Nothing but to sit tight and trust to luck."

Both lads now sat with anxious eyes fixed on the approaching lights. Nearer and nearer they came, traveling fast.

"Shout, Bill, shout with all your might," enjoined Jack.

They began yelling at the top of their lungs. But those inexorable lights, like the eyes of some savage monster, still bore down menacingly on them. Already, in anticipation, they felt the impact of the sharp bow, the crash of smashed timbers and the suction of the propellers drawing them down to death.

"They don't hear us," said Jack. "If the lookout doesn't sight us, we're lost."

The steamer was very close now. By straining their eyes they thought they could make out the dark outlines of her hull and spars against the clearing sky. Bill hid his face in his hands. He could not bear to look at the Juggernaut of the seas advancing to crush them. Jack, with more fortitude, sat erect with a thousand thoughts whirring through his brain.

The mighty bow loomed above the tiny chip of a boat, throwing off a great wave. The comber caught the light craft and flung it aside. What seemed like a black cliff, with here and there a gleaming light piercing its face, raced past them, and the boat, with two white-faced, shaken boys in it, was left in the wake of the fast-moving steamer, safe, but being madly tossed about by the wash of her propellers. The danger had passed, almost by a hand's breadth, but it was some time before they were sufficiently masters of themselves to discuss their escape.