Part 23 (1/2)
But only brave and hardy spirits can joke in the midst of disaster, and as for Curlie, he really did have one more trick up his sleeve.
As the old skipper sat staring away at the point where his craft had disappeared beneath the dark waters, he murmured:
”'Twasn't much we 'it; fragment from an iceberg 'er somethin', but 'twas enough. An' a good little craft she was too.”
The storm had pa.s.sed, but the waves were still rolling high. The raft tilted to such an angle that now they were all in danger of being pitched headforemost into the sea, and now in danger of falling backward into the trough of the waves.
Soaked to the skin, s.h.i.+vering, miserable, the boys and men clung to the raft, while the girl bewailed the fact that she was not permitted to suffer with them. Wrapped as she was, and carefully guarded from the on-rush of the waves, she escaped all the miserable damp and chill of it.
”Shows you're a real sport,” Curlie's lips, blue with cold, attempted a smile, ”but you've got to let us play the gentleman, even out here.”
When the waves had receded somewhat, Curlie began digging at one of the tubes beneath his feet. Having at length unfastened it, he stood it on end to unscrew some fastenings and lift off the top.
”Canisters of water and some emergency rations!” exclaimed Joe, as he peered inside. ”Great stuff!”
They had taken a swallow of water apiece and were preparing to munch some hardtack and chocolate when Gladys exclaimed:
”Look over there. What's that?”
”There's nothing,” said the engineer after studying the waves for a moment.
”Oh, yes there was!” the girl insisted emphatically. ”Something showed up on the crest of a wave. It's in the trough of the wave now. It'll come up again.”
”Bit of wreckage from our yacht,” suggested Joe.
”Not much wreckage on 'er,” said the skipper. ”All washed off 'er long before she sank.”
”What could it be then?” The girl was fairly holding her breath. ”It couldn't be--”
”Don't get your hopes up too high,” cautioned Curlie. ”Of course miracles do happen, but not so very often.”
CHAPTER XXIII
THE MIRACLE
They were all straining their eyes when at last the thing appeared once more on the crest of the wave.
”Wreckage! A ma.s.s of it!” came from the skipper.
”And--and there's a hand!” exclaimed Curlie.
”The paddles, boys! The paddles! Every 'and of you, hup an' at it,”
shouted the skipper.
The wildest excitement prevailed, yet out of it all there came quick and concerted action. Three paddles flashed as, straining every muscle, they strove to bring the clumsy raft nearer the wreck. With tears in her eyes, the girl begged and implored them to unwrap her and allow her to have a hand in the struggle.
A minute pa.s.sed. No longer chilled but steaming from violent exertion, they strained eager eyes to catch another glimpse of the wreck.