The Rover Boys in Southern Waters Part 22

"I don't know, Sam. If we knew in what direction the land lay we might make some effort to reach it."

"We couldn't paddle the rafts fifty or a hundred miles."

"I am in hope that some steamer or sailing vessel will come this way and pick us up," answered d.i.c.k.

Then a silence fell on the little crowd. Matters were growing serious indeed, and all wondered how the adventure would end.

CHAPTER XVI

A DESERTED STEAM YACHT

"d.i.c.k, am I mistaken, or do I see a vessel over yonder?"

Tom asked the question, as he suddenly straightened up and took a long look over to where the mist had temporarily lifted.

"It certainly does look like a s.h.i.+p of some sort," answered d.i.c.k, gazing forward with equal eagerness.

"Shall ve call owid?" asked Hans.

"It is too far off."

"Is she coming this way?" asked Sam, who had gotten so much salt water in his eyes that he could not see very well.

"I am not sure if it is a s.h.i.+p," said Tom. "But it is certainly something."

"Let us try to paddle closer," suggested his older brother, and all set to work; Tom using the folded campstool, and the others some bits of boards from the crates.

Very slowly they approached the object, until they felt certain it was a vessel, a steam yacht, as they made out a few minutes later.

But no smoke curled from the funnel of the craft, nor could they make out anybody on the deck.

"Yacht ahoy!" yelled d.i.c.k, when he felt that his voice might be heard.

To this hail there was no answer, and although the boys strained their eyes to the utmost, they saw n.o.body moving on the craft ahead.

"Yacht ahoy!" screamed Tom, using his hands as a trumpet. "Yacht ahoy!"

Still there was no answer, nor did a soul show himself. The curiosity of the castaways was aroused to the highest pitch, and as vigorously as they could they paddled to the side of the steam yacht. The craft was not a large one, but seemed to be of good build and in first-cla.s.s trim. The wheel was lashed fast, causing her to ride fairly well in the faint breeze. Not a sail was set.

"Ahoy! ahoy!" yelled all of the boys in concert.

"Vos you teat, alretty?" asked Hans. "Of you vos, vy ton't you tole somepoty?"

"Gracious, do you think all on board are dead?" cried Sam.

"Either that or else the owners belong to a deaf and dumb asylum,"

responded Tom.

The castaways continued to call out and in the meantime brought their rude raft close to the side of the steam yacht. As the vessel slipped past them slowly, they threw a bit of rope to the rudder post and made fast.

"Everybody must be below and asleep," said d.i.c.k, "although I never before heard of such strange proceedings."

"Nor I," came from Sam. "But the question is, Are we going on board or not?"

"Are we? Of course we are!" burst out Tom. "They couldn't keep me off with a pitchfork. I want a drink of water if nothing else, and I am bound to have it."

"Aboard the yacht!" yelled d.i.c.k again. "Why don't you show yourselves and say something? Are you all deaf?"

Still no answer, and the boys looked at each other in amazement.

"Am I dreaming?" demanded Tom.

"Maybe the s.h.i.+p is a--a--phantom?" whispered Sam, and gave a little s.h.i.+ver.

"Well, I am going on board, even if it's the _Flying Dutchman_ himself," cried Tom, bravely.

"_Flying Dutchmans_?" queried Hans. "Der vos no Dutchmans vot fly, vos dare?"

"Tom is speaking of a phantom s.h.i.+p with a phantom crew, I guess,"

said Sam. "Tom, how are you going to get on deck?" he added, to his brother.

This was a question Tom could not answer at once. The rail of the steam yacht was some feet above their heads and how to reach it was a problem.

"You can take the ropes from the rafts," suggested d.i.c.k. "Perhaps we won't want them any longer."

They took the ropes, tied them together, and Tom threw one end upward.

After several failures he got the rope around the rail and the end down within reach, and then he went up hand over hand, in true sailor fas.h.i.+on, for Tom had been a first-cla.s.s climber from early childhood, "Always getting into mischief," as his Aunt Martha had been wont to say.

"Don't you fellows want to come up?" asked the fun-loving Rover, as soon as he was safe.

"Certainly we do," answered d.i.c.k. "Go on, Hans and Sam. I can wait till last."

It was not so easy for Hans to get up and Tom at the top and d.i.c.k at the bottom had to aid him. Then Sam went up like a monkey, and the eldest Rover followed, and the crates and boxes, with the campstool, were allowed to drift away.

Once on board the steam yacht the Rovers and Hans looked around with keen curiosity. Not a soul was on deck, in the upper cabin, or in the tiny wheelhouse.

"This is enough to give a fellow the creeps!" declared Sam. "I must say I almost hate to go below."

"Just the way I feel," added Tom. "Perhaps we've run into some great tragedy."

"Everything on deck is in apple-pie order," was d.i.c.k's comment. "It certainly is a mystery. But I am going below."

"Wait, d.i.c.k!" cried Sam. "Would it not be as well to arm yourself?"

"Perhaps," was the reply, and then all of the "boys procured belaying pins or whatever was handy, with which to ward off a possible attack.

"Maybe they had a lion on board and he ate the whole crew up,"

suggested Tom.