Dave Dawson on Guadalcanal Part 11

Freddy said. "But that couldn't be. Our markings were as plain as day for anybody to see."

"Yeah," Dave said, and sighed. "But maybe we _look_ like j.a.ps, and they figured we'd swiped the Dauntless."

Freddy Farmer's comment on Dave's wisecrack was a p.r.o.nounced snort. Then both lapsed into brooding silence and stared more or less unseeingly out across the limitless expanse of ocean.

CHAPTER TEN

_Steel Sharks_

The sun was a s.h.i.+mmering ball of bra.s.s that seemed to hang motionless in the high heavens forever and ever. At least it seemed forever to Dawson and Farmer, huddled down in the small rubber life raft that rose and fell with maddening monotonous regularity under the urging of the long, rolling swells of the Southwest Pacific. Bra.s.sy sun on high, all about them, and even dancing up off the waters straight into their eyes.

"Oh, for a shack about six miles this side of the North Pole!" Dave groaned, and licked his cracked lips. "What I wouldn't give for a spot like that, right now!"

"Yes, quite," Freddy answered listlessly. "And, of course, during the six months of night they have up there. You know, Dave, I--I say! Look!

Look, Dave! To starboard. Way out where the blasted sky meets the blasted water! Do you see something?"

For a couple of moments Dawson refused to turn his head. It seemed as though he had spent his entire life in this raft squinting hopefully at imagined objects, only to be slapped in his burning, stinging face by lost hope. For twenty-six heart-crus.h.i.+ng long hours Freddy and he had been floating about in the raft on the crest of the Southwest Pacific.

Twelve of those hours had been spent in the darkness of night, hoping, hoping, hoping that dawn's light would bring them a sight of one of their own planes, or one of the task force s.h.i.+ps. Just to see something besides sky, water, and darkness would have been something, even if it hadn't meant rescue for them. But it had been only sky, water, and darkness. Then sky, and water again, and a blast furnace sun that seemed to pierce the top of their heads and burn their brains to a crisp.

But presently Dawson did turn his head, cup his hands to his tired eyes, and peer in the direction Freddy Farmer was pointing. At first he saw absolutely nothing. Then, suddenly, his heart leaped high in his chest.

There _was_ something way out there! Something on the surface of the water, or just over it. He couldn't tell for sure. And he definitely couldn't even guess at what it might be. The dazzling rays of the sun dancing up off the surface of the water were like hot needle points that drew blood in his eyes. But there was something way out there on the horizon. Yes, definitely something, but did it mean life, or death?

That last question pounded around and around inside Dave's head as he strained his eyes at the distant horizon.

"Do you see it, Dave?" Freddy Farmer's voice broke into his thoughts.

"Yeah, I see it, but what?" he replied. "A s.h.i.+p, a plane, or maybe just some kind of a bird?"

"My guess is a submarine," Freddy said. Then, an instant later, he exclaimed, "Yes, I'm sure of it! I can make out the conning tower. Good grief! Dave! _It's a n.a.z.i U-boat!_"

"Huh?" Dave gasped, and sat up so violently that he rocked the raft.

"You're nuts, Freddy. This is the Pacific, not the Atlantic!"

"That may be!" the English youth shot right back at him. "But that thing out there is a n.a.z.i U-boat, or I never saw one. See? It's coming toward us now. It must have sighted us!"

"Nuts again!" Dave replied. "We'd only be a speck at that distance, even in gla.s.ses. It just happens that it's heading our way."

Freddy shrugged and made a little gesture with one hand.

"Have it your own way, old thing," he said. "It's heading right for us just the same. And if they haven't sighted us, they certainly will soon.

There! See, Dave? Men are climbing out of the conning tower hatch onto the deck!"

"Yeah, I see," Dave replied gloomily. "Which means they must be pretty sure they've got this neck of the woods all to themselves. I wonder just how far we've drifted in twenty-six hours? I wonder where the Carson is?

And how the others made out? I--Oh, nuts! What good does it do to wonder about anything right now? Heck! We couldn't change anything, anyway.

That confounded seaplane, and the rats in her! Boy! Does that burn me up! I could kick myself all over this here Pacific Ocean!"

"Easy, old chap," Freddy said gently. "Don't let it get you down so, Dave. Good grief! What else could you have done?"

"Plenty!" Dawson said with an angry nod of his head. "I could have kept my eye on the ball, for one thing, and not let them get so close they could cut in with a few snap bursts. But no! I had to fall like a ton of brick for that moss-covered trick of getting a guy to look the other way when you're about to slug him. So help me! I'll feel like a chump for that if I live to be a million."

"Well, go ahead then!" Freddy said in exasperation. "But you're definitely silly to feel as you do. Besides, what does it matter now?

There's a U-boat coming toward us, and they certainly see us, now."

Dave looked and saw the U-boat now less than a mile away.

"Too bad we didn't strip off one of your guns and take it with us, Freddy," he said. "With a machine gun we could dust off quite a few of those apes on the deck there. And--Hey! What gives now? That's a U-boat, sure enough, Freddy. But those guys on deck aren't Jerries. They're j.a.ps, what I mean!"

"Yes, I know," the English youth replied. "Which proves the rumors that I've heard: that Hitler has loaned some of his U-boats to the j.a.ps, some of his old ones."

"Well, that one's not old," Dave declared, and stared hard at the approaching undersea craft. "That's a new one, or I'll eat my s.h.i.+rt.

That's a big baby, Freddy, very big. If it wasn't for the conning tower you'd almost take it for a destroyer. No wonder we could spot it way over on the horizon. And--Oh-oh! And _how_ they spot us! Look at the rats!"

The last was caused by quick movements on the bow deck of the approaching U-boat. A machine gun had been set up, and the man behind it was training the gun on the floating raft. For a couple of seconds Dave's heart came up to jam hard against his back teeth, as he half expected to see fire spurt out from the muzzle of the machine gun, and to feel the hot sting of bullets biting into his flesh.

The gun did not fire, however, and presently the U-boat was practically on top of the raft. Dark blue garbed j.a.ps seemed to be swarming all over the place, and Dave's hatred for them mounted to white fury as he watched them, agate-eyed. Then suddenly the head and shoulders of a bull-necked officer of the n.a.z.i Navy appeared up out of the conning tower hatch. He put a small megaphone to his lips and bellowed the words across the water.

"Make any effort to resist, and you will be killed where you are!" he thundered. "Be sensible! We are taking you aboard. I warn you to keep your hands in sight!"

The man spoke almost perfect English, and both boys blinked in surprise.

"Yes, I would, if I only had a machine gun!" Dave grated under his breath. "Nothing I'd like better than to knock you and your little brown pals kicking."

"Shut up, Dave!" Freddy ordered him: "Stop trying to play blasted soldier. You know perfectly well you wouldn't shoot, even if you did have a gun. You'd be too thankful for the chance to get out of this raft, just as you are now. And you know it!"

"Okay, okay, let me up; I'm all cut!" Dave grunted at him. "Just the same, pal, I never did care much for U-boat rides."

"Well, I'm afraid we have no choice in the matter, old thing," Freddy sighed, and let the subject drop.

The U-boat was close to the bobbing raft now. And just as a matter of precaution both Dave and Freddy made very sure that they kept their hands in full view of all those aboard the undersea craft. The two j.a.ps behind the deck mounted machine gun leered at them over the bead sight, and it was easy to see they wouldn't mind at all an order to pull the trigger. No such order was given, however, and a couple of moments later one of the j.a.p sailors caught hold of the raft with a boat hook, pulled it close, and the two youths clambered up onto the wet deck of the U-boat.

No sooner had they climbed up on deck than a couple of j.a.p Navy officers moved in on them quickly, and searched for weapons. They found none, and were obviously disappointed. Then a shrill order in sing-song j.a.panese snapped the look of disappointment from their slant-eyed faces. They grunted at the two boys and then nodded toward the conning tower bridge where the n.a.z.i commander of the craft stood waiting. They went over and up the short companion ladder with a couple of j.a.ps sticking conveniently at their heels. They halted in front of the bull-necked German, who eyed them as though he'd never seen a couple of white men in his life before. Which, of course, was quite possible, in view of the fact he was of German birth.

Then, suddenly, he exploded in a booming voice that almost blew the boys over.

"What's the name of your carrier?" he thundered. "And how long ago were you shot down?"

Dawson hesitated a moment, and then let him have it. In a very meek and humble voice, too.

"We weren't a.s.signed to any special carrier, sir," he said. "We flew off any one of the five of them. And we've been in the water for about a week now. No, call it an even eight days."

The n.a.z.i's eyes widened and he blinked them hard.

"What's this?" he cried.

Before he could get his breath to say anything else, one of the j.a.p naval officers stepped forward.