Bert Wilson, Wireless Operator - Part 12
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Part 12

The routine life of shipboard wore quietly on for several days without interruption. The staunch ship held steadily on its course, and the ceaseless vibrations of its engines came to be as unnoticed and as unthought of as the beatings of their own hearts. There had been no storms for some time, as indeed there seldom were at this time of the year, and Bert's duties as wireless operator occupied comparatively little of his time. He had plenty left, therefore, to spend with d.i.c.k and Tom, and they had little trouble in finding a way to occupy their leisure with pleasure and profit to themselves and others.

A favorite resort was the engine room, where in spite of the heat they spent many a pleasant hour in company with the chief engineer, MacGregor. The latter was a s.h.a.ggy old Scotchman with a most stern and forbidding exterior, but a heart underneath that took a warm liking to the three comrades, much to the surprise and disgust of the force of stokers and "wipers" under him.

"And phwat do yez think of the old man?" one was heard to remark to his companion one day. "There was a toime when the chief 'ud look sour and grumble if the cap'n himself so much as poked his nose inside the engine room gratin', and now here he lets thim young spalpeens run all ovir the place, wid never a kick out o' him."

"Sure, an' Oi've ben noticin' the same," agreed his companion, "an'

phwat's more, he answers all their questions wid good natur', and nivir seems to have ony desire to dhrop a wrinch on their noodles."

"Perhaps 'tis because the youngsters ask him nothin' but sinsible questions, as ye may have noticed," said he who had spoken first, as he leaned on his shovel for a brief rest. "Shure, an' it's me private opinion that the young cubs know 'most as much about the engines as old Mac himsilf."

"Thrue fer you," said the other. "Only yisterday, if O'im not mistaken, young Wilson, him as runs the wireless outfit for the ship, was down here, and they were havin' a argyment regardin' the advantages of the reciprocatin' engines over the new steam turbins, an' roast me in me own furnace if I don't think the youngster had the goods on the old man right up t' the finish."

"Oi wouldn't be su'prised at ahl, at ahl," agreed his companion. "The young felly has a head for engines, an' no mistake. He's got a lot o'

book larnin' about 'em, too."

It was indeed as the stokers said, and a strong friendship and mutual regard had sprung up between the grizzled old engineer and the enthusiastic wireless operator. As our readers doubtless remember, Bert had been familiar with things mechanical since boyhood, and during his college course had kept up his knowledge by a careful reading of the latest magazines and periodicals given over to mechanical research.

Needless to say, his ideas were all most modern, while on the part of the chief engineer there was a tendency to stick to the tried and tested things of mechanics and fight very shy of all inventions and innovations.

However, each realized that the other knew what he was talking about, and each had a respect for the opinions of the other. This did not prevent their having long arguments at times, however, in which a perfect shower and deluge of technical words and descriptions filled the air. It seldom happened, though, that either caused the other to alter his original stand in the slightest degree, as is generally the case in all arguments of any sort.

But the engineer was always ready to explain things about the ponderous engines that Bert did not fully understand, and there were constant problems arising from Bert's inspection of the beautifully made machinery that only the engineer, of all on board, could solve for him.

Bert always found a fascination in watching the powerful engines and would sit for hours at a time, when he was at leisure, watching each ingenious part do its work, with an interest that never flagged.

He loved to study the movements of the mighty pistons as they rose and fell like the arm of some immense giant, and speculate on the terrific power employed in every stroke. The shining, smooth, well-oiled machinery seemed more beautiful to Bert than any picture he had ever seen, and the regular click and chug of the valves was music. Every piece of bra.s.s, nickel and steel work in the engine room was spotlessly clean, and glittered and flickered in the glow from the electric lights.

Sometimes he and MacGregor would sit in companionable silence for an hour at a time, listening to the hiss of steam as it rushed into the huge cylinders, and was then expelled on the upward stroke of the piston. MacGregor loved his engines as he might a pet cat or dog, and often patted them lovingly when he was sure n.o.body was around to observe his actions.

Once the engineer had taken Bert back along the course of the big propeller shaft to where it left the ship, water being prevented from leaking in around the opening by means of stuffing boxes. At intervals the shaft was supported by bearings made of bronze, and as they pa.s.sed them the old man always pa.s.sed his hand over them to find out if by any chance one was getting warm on account of the friction caused by lack of proper lubrication.

"For it's an afu' thing," he said to Bert, shaking his head, "to have a shaft break when you're in the ragin' midst of a storm. It happened to me once, an' the second vayage I evir took as chief engineer, and I hae no desire t' repeat the experience."

"What did you do about it?" inquired Bert.

"We did the anly thing there was to be done, son. We set the whole engine room force drillin' holes thrae the big shaft, and then we riveted a wee snug collar on it, and proceeded on our way. Two days and two nights we were at it, with the puir bonnie ship driftin' helpless, an' the great waves nigh breakin' in her sides. Never a wink o' sleep did I get during the hale time, and none of the force under me got much more. Ye may believe it was a fair happy moment for all of us when we eased the steam into the low pressure cylinder and saw that the job was like to hold until we got tae port. Nae, nae, one experience like thot is sufficient tae hold a mon a lifetime."

"I should think it would be," said Bert. "You generally hear a lot about the romantic side of accidents at sea, but I guess the people actually mixed up in them look at the matter from a different point of view."

"Nae doot, nae doot," agreed the old Scotsman, "and what credit do ye suppose we got for all our work? The papers were full o' the bravery and cael headedness the skipper had exhibited, but what o' us poor deils wha' had sweated and slaved twae mortal day an nichts in a swelterin', suffercatin' hold, whi' sure death for us gin anything sprang a leak and the ship sank? Wae'd a' had nae chanct t' git on deck and in a boat.

Wae'd have been drounded like wee rats in a trap. I prasume n.o.body thocht o' that, howiver."

"That's the way it generally works out, I've noticed," said Bert. "Of course, many times the captain does deserve much or all the credit, but the newspapers never take the trouble to find out the facts. You can bet your case wasn't the first of the kind that ever occurred."

"'Tis as you say," agreed the engineer; "but nae we must back to the engine room, me laddie. I canna feel easy when I am far frae it."

Accordingly they retraced their course, and were soon back in the room where the machinery toiled patiently day and night, never groaning or complaining when taken proper care of, as you may be sure these engines were. MacGregor would have preferred to have somebody make a slighting remark about him than about his idolized engines, and would have been less quick to resent it.

Bert was about to take his leave, when suddenly Tom and d.i.c.k came tumbling recklessly down the steep ladder leading to the engine room, and fairly fell down the last few rounds.

"Say, Bert, beat it up on deck," exclaimed Tom, as soon as he was able to get his breath. "We sighted an island an hour or so ago, and as we get nearer to it we can see that there's a signal of some sort on it.

Captain Manning says that none of the islands hereabout are inhabited, so it looks as though somebody had been shipwrecked there. The skipper's ordered the course changed so as to head straight toward it, and we ought to be within landing distance in less than an hour."

"Hooray!" yelled Bert. "I'll give you a race up, fellows, and see who gets on deck first," and so saying he made a dive for the ladder. d.i.c.k and Tom made a rush to intercept him, but Bert beat them by a fraction of an inch, and went up the steep iron ladder with as much agility as any monkey. The others were close at his heels, however, and in less time than it takes to tell they were all on deck.

d.i.c.k and Tom pointed out the island to Bert, and there, sure enough, he saw what appeared to be a remnant of some flag nailed to an upright branch planted in the ground. They were not more than a mile from the island by this time, and soon Captain Manning rang the gong for half speed ahead. A few moments later he gave the signal to shut off power, and the vibration of the ship's engines ceased abruptly. The sudden stopping of the vibration to which by now they had become so accustomed that it seemed part of life came almost like a blow to the three young men, and they were obliged to laugh.

"Gee, but that certainly seems queer," said Tom. "It seems to me as though I must have been used to that jarring all my life."

"Well," said d.i.c.k, "it certainly feels unusual now, but I will be perfectly willing to exchange it for a little trip on good, solid land.

I hope we can persuade the captain to let us go ash.o.r.e with the men."

The captain's consent was easily obtained, and they then awaited impatiently for the boat to be launched that was to take them to the island.

The island was surrounded by a coral reef, in which at first there appeared to be no opening. On closer inspection, however, when they had rowed close up to it, they found a narrow entrance, that they would never have been able to use had the water been at all rough.

Fortunately, however, the weather had been very calm for several days past, so they had little difficulty in manoeuvering the boat through the narrow opening. As it was, however, once or twice they could hear the sharp coral projections sc.r.a.pe against the boat's sides, and they found time even in their impatience to land to wonder what would happen to any ship unfortunate enough to be tossed against the reef.

After they had pa.s.sed the reef all was clear sailing, and a few moments later the boat grated gently on a sloping beach of dazzling white sand, and the sailor in the bow leapt ash.o.r.e and drew the boat a little way up on the beach. Then they all jumped out and stood scanning what they could see of the place for some sign of life other than that of the signal they had seen from the ship. This now hung limply down around the pole, and no sound was to be heard save the lap of the waves against the reef and an occasional bird note from the rim of trees that began where the white sand ended.

The green trees and vegetation stood out in sharp relief contrasted with the white beach and the azure sky, and the three boys felt a tingle of excitement run through their veins. Here was just such a setting for adventures and romance as they had read about often in books, but had hardly dared ever hope to see. This might be an island where Captain Kidd had made his headquarters and buried priceless treasure, some of which at that moment might lie under the sand on which they were standing. The green jungle in front of them might contain any number of adventures and hair-raising exploits ready to the hand of any one who came to seek, and at the thought the spirits of all three kindled.

"This is the chance of a lifetime, fellows," said Bert, in a low voice, "if we don't get some excitement out of this worth remembering, I think it will be our own fault."

"That's what," agreed d.i.c.k, "why in time don't we get busy and do something. We won't find the person who put up that signal by standing here and talking. I want to make a break for those trees and see what we can find there."

"Same here," said Tom, "and I guess we're going to do something at last, by the looks of things."

Mr. Miller, the second mate, who had been placed in charge of the party, had indeed arrived at a decision, and now made it known to the whole group.

"I think the best thing we can do," he said, "is to skirt the forest there and see if we can find anything that looks like a path or trail.

If there's any living thing on this island it must have left some sort of a trace."

This was done accordingly, and in a short time they were walking along the edge of the jungle, each one straining his eyes for any indication of a trail. At first they met with no success, but finally Tom gave a whoop. "Here we are," he yelled, "here's a path, or something that looks a whole lot like one, leading straight into the forest. Come along, fellows," and he started on a run along an almost obliterated trail that everybody else had overlooked.

You may be sure Bert and d.i.c.k were not far behind him, and were soon following close on his heels. After they had gone a short distance in this reckless fashion they were forced to slow down on account of the heat, which was overpowering. Also, as they advanced, the underbrush became thicker and thicker, and it soon became difficult to make any progress at all. Great roots and vines grew in tangled luxuriance across the path, and more than once one of them tripped and measured his length on the ground.

Soon they felt glad to be able to progress even at a walk, and Bert said, "We want to remember landmarks that we pa.s.s, fellows, so that we can be sure of finding our way back. It wouldn't be very hard to wander off this apology of a path, and find ourselves lost."

"Like the babes in the woods," supplemented d.i.c.k, with a laugh.

"Exactly," grinned Bert, "and I don't feel like doing any stunts along that line myself just at present."

These words were hardly out of his mouth when the path suddenly widened out into a little opening or glade, and the boys stopped abruptly to get their bearings.

"Look! over there, fellows," said Bert, in an excited voice. "If I'm not very much mistaken there's a hut over there, see, by that big tree--no, no, you simps, the big one with the wild grape vine twisted all over it.

See it now?"

It was easy to see that they did, for they both hurried over toward the little shack at a run, but Bert had started even before they had, and beat them to it. They could gather little information from its contents when they arrived, however. Inside were a few ragged pieces of clothing, and in one corner a bed constructed of twigs and branches. In addition to these there was a rude chair constructed of boughs of trees, and tied together with bits of string and twine. It was evident from this, however, that some civilized person had at one time inhabited the place, and at a recent date, too, for otherwise the hut would have been in a more dilapidated condition than that in which they found it.

They rummaged around, scattering the materials of which the bed was constructed to left and right. Suddenly Tom gave a yell and pounced on something that he had unearthed.