In the present situation all his coolness was needed.
When the sudden and entirely2 unexpected crash came, Clif and the other members of the crew were bending all their energies forward, forcing the launch back to the practice ship.
With head bent3 low and arms tugging4 at the oar5 he worked away, knowing full well that their very lives depended upon their reaching the Monongahela before the sudden gale6 increased.
Clif heard Joy and Trolley7 talking, then came the lieutenant’s fierce interruption, and then chaos8 seemed to come, and overwhelm boat and crew in one mighty9 crash.
The lieutenant’s warning cry came too late for preparation. Clif felt himself thrown headlong from his seat upon the man in front. There was a wild scramble10, then the waters of the ocean rolled up and engulfed11 all.
When Clif regained12 the surface he at once instinctively13 struck out. In no general direction, but with a natural desire to keep afloat.
He heard cries about him, and a splashing and floundering as if a score of men were making a desperate fight for their lives. And mixed in with the hubbub14 was the keen whistling of the growing gale.
Suddenly the lad came in contact with some yielding body. He heard a gasp15 and a gurgle, then two arms were thrown about his neck and down went his head beneath the surface.
It is not in the duty of man to drown without making an effort for life. Neither should one go down at the frantic16 assault of another until all means of aiding both have been exhausted17.
Clif instantly realized that he was in the clutches of one whom peril18 had rendered frantic. He also knew that he must release himself right speedily if he expected to save himself.
Calling all his power into play, he threw off the strangling arms, at the same time gasping19 hoarsely20:
“Strike out, man. Do something for yourself.”
He received no answer. The fellow faded away in the blackness, leaving Clif to swim unencumbered. Luckily, the lad was at home in the water, else he would have found sore trouble in keeping above the buffeting22 waves.
He struggled on, striving his best to see aught of hope in the prospect23. The wind swept the crests24 of the seas into a thousand stinging lances. The roar of the increasing storm sounded like a mocking chorus of demons25. Occasional cries for help echoed above the brawling26 of the elements.
Suddenly the lights on the practice ship, which Clif had kept before his eyes as well as he could, began to grow dim.
“Surely they will not leave us to perish miserably,” groaned27 the lad. “They will stand by until some of the boats report.”
Wild with fear he struck out savagely28, and in the act drove plump against some hard object.
The sudden shock sent him under the surface once more. When he emerged gasping and half stunned29, he heard the sound of a familiar voice nearby in the darkness.
“Come up higher, Trolley, the boat can stand it. That’s it; give me your hand. Steady, steady, ah-h!”
“It’s Joy, and he has found help,” hopefully muttered Clif.
He swam in the direction whence the words had come, and speedily reached what proved to be the launch, floating capsized at the mercy of the waves.
Upon the upturned bottom were two dark smudges just visible against the black background of the night.
Grasping the end of the keel, Clif drew himself up and sat panting upon the bottom planks31.
“Who is that?” called out Joy.
“It’s what is left of me,” replied Clif.
“Hurray, it’s Faraday!” shouted the Japanese youth. “Hurray, Clif, me glad you saved. Shake!”
“This is a dreadful business,” exclaimed Faraday, as he wrung32 the proffered33 hand. “Seen anything of the other fellows?”
“Not a sign,” replied Joy. “We have heard lots of cries, but we are the only ones who have reached this launch.”
“What was the trouble? A collision?”
“Yes. I think we ran into one of the cutters. Whew! how this blamed thing does roll.”
It required all the efforts of the three to retain their position upon the tossing launch. The sweep of the waves sent a perfect deluge34 of water over them at times, and they were compelled to cling with tooth and nail.
The force of the wind continued unabated, but it was evident from the suddenness of its coming and its very fierceness that it would not last.
The lights of the Monongahela were no longer visible. Immediately after gaining the comparative safety of the capsized launch, Clif eagerly scanned the horizon.
“I am afraid she has been driven off before the gale, fellows,” he said, anxiously.
“It certainly looks that way,” agreed Joy. “I guess we can say good-by to the old Monongahela.”
“It say good-by to us,” chimed in Trolley. “It go away; we no want to.”
He spoke35 lightly, but he fully30 understood the extreme gravity of the situation. All three realized that their lives were in deadly peril.
With only the frail36 planks of an overturned boat between them and the depths of the angry sea, it was plainly evident that little hope remained.
And what of the others who had left the practice ship?
Clif shuddered37 and his eyes moistened as he recalled the names of his shipmates. Some there were who had not been friendly to him. Many had sworn undying vengeance38 because he had led the plebes on more than one successful resistance to the hazing39 of the upper classes. In that very launch Judson Greene had pulled an oar.
All animosity was forgotten now, however; in the presence of such an awful tragedy only heartfelt sympathy and regret could live.
“Haven’t you seen anything of the others?” he asked again.
“Nary sign,” replied Joy, gloomily.
“I guess they gone down,” muttered Trolley. “Poor boys! Me very sorry.”
A realization40 of their own situation was suddenly brought home to them. A curling wave, higher than the rest, abruptly41 broke over the launch with such force that all three lads were hurled42 bodily from the keel.
Clif was thrown a dozen feet away from the boat, and[Pg 154] when he regained the surface after the violent plunge43 he found himself buffeted44 about in a smother45 of foam46.
He struck out blindly, and at the same time called lustily for his companions. An answering cry came at once.
“Clif! Clif! where are you?”
Guided by the voice, he reached the boat once more, but only after a most desperate struggle.
He felt himself clutched by the collar and dragged against the gunwale. Then he saw to his infinite surprise that the sailing launch had righted.
“All present and accounted for, and better off than before.”
These cheery words came from Clif as he scrambled47 into the boat and saw that both Joy and Trolley were there.
“Yes, but if we want to continue to be present we’d better commence to bail48,” replied the former.
Trolley felt about under the submerged seats and brought up a bailer49 which had been wedged in one corner. With this he set industriously50
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CHAPTER XV. THE NIGHT DRILL.
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CHAPTER XVII. A WELCOME FIND.
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