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Page 43
Then at dawn happened the miracle. Out of the dusk a big ship
seemed to take form. She was miles away, but to their eyes,
growing accustomed only to the unrelenting stretch of sea and
sky, she seemed to loom over them.
As it grew lighter, they could see that she was a huge transport
with her convoys about her.
Carl Coggins leaped to a seat, tearing off a silk shirt as he did
so. He ran a big oar through the sleeves and waved it wildly.
"I have always wanted to do this," he cried. "Now you see why I
wouldn't wear a service shirt under my tunic!"
"Wave ahead!" said the Colonel. "Here's hoping they see you!"
The little boatful anxiously watched the great ship and her
convoys. Would she pause?
CHAPTER XIII
A SUBMARINE FLIES A FLAG OF TRUCE
Furiously Carl waved his white flag, Every eye was fastened on
the distant shape. A cry went up from the men in the little boat.
"They see us--they see us!"
They renewed their rowing with all their remaining strength, as
though the great ship laying to in the distance might suddenly
start away.
But instead they saw a couple of boats put off--motor-boats that
cut their way furiously through the water and soon reached them.
A word of explanation from the Captain of the Firefly to the
young officer in charge of the motor-boat, and they were taken in
tow, while the exhausted oarsmen leaned heavily on their oars,
and every heart sent up a prayer of thanksgiving.
The transport was the one they had been trying to overtake, and
Colonel Bright's own men met him with cheers and sobs as he was
assisted on deck. He and the others were hurried below where
they were put under the care of the ship's doctor.
A search now began for the remaining boats. It was not until
just before dark that the powerful glasses in the hands of one of
the lookout men discovered some small specks far to starboard.
It was the missing boats. As soon as they, with their loads of
suffering men, had been taken on board, the transport and her
convoys, wrapped in darkness, plunged forward through the
gathering night.
They were approaching the danger zone.
The following day, the Colonel was himself again. He had been
too long a soldier to let the loss of the two boys, dear as they
were, completely crush him. They were lost; it was the fortune
of war. They were lost as thousands of other young, splendid
fellows had been lost; and although the Colonel could scarcely
bear to think of the grief of the poor mother back home when she
should learn of the loss of her two idolized sons, he put the
picture behind him. Here was a transport full of men, his own
command largely, and a deep anxiety beset him when he looked over
the sea, searching its surface for a glimpse of a telltale
periscope.
He fell to watching the convoys with their bristling guns and the
intricate tackle used in this modern game of war at sea. They
looked capable, every inch of them, and deadly in their
efficiency. Yet occasionally the deadly U-boat claimed one of
these as a victim. Once more his eyes roved over the big
transport.
It was packed and jammed with men. They were quartered in every
possible place. Happy, jolly fellows, full of the finest courage
in the world, ready for anything, eager for the next adventure,
meeting victory with modesty, accepting disaster with a smile.
The rails on each side of the ship were lined with men watching,
watching like himself, yet with a difference.
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