CHAPTER XI
THE MIDNIGHT ALARM
"Whew! What a lot of 'em!"
"Bless my fish line! It's a big school!"
"Look how they turn over and over, and leap from the water."
"By golly, dere is suttinly some fish dere!"
These were the exclamations made by our four friends a few dayslater, as they leaned over the rail of the Maderia and watched a bigschool of porpoises gamboling about in the warm waters of the gulfstream. It was the second porpoise school the ship had come up withon the voyage, and this was a much larger one than the first, sothat the passengers crowded up to see the somewhat novel sight.
"If they were only good eating now, we might try for a few,"observed Ned.
"Some folks eat them, but they're too oily for me," observed agentleman who had struck up an acquaintance with the boys and Mr.Damon. "Their skin makes excellent shoe laces though, their oil isused for delicate machinery--especially some that comes from aroundthe head, at least so I have heard."
"Wow! Did you see that?" cried Tom, as one large porpoise leapedclear of the water, turned over several times and fell back with aloud splash. "That was the biggest leap yet."
"And there goes another," added Ned.
"Say, this ought to bring those two mysterious passengers out oftheir room," observed Tom to his chum in a low voice. "Nearlyeveryone else seems to be on deck."
"You haven't been able to catch a glimpse of them; eh Tom?"
"Not a peak. I stayed up several nights, as you know, and paced thedeck, but they didn't stir out. Or, if they did, it must have beentoward morning after I turned in. I can't understand it. They mustbe either criminals, afraid of being seen, or they ARE the Fogers,and they know we're on to their game."
"It looks as if it might be one or the other, Tom. But if they arecriminals we don't have to worry about 'em. They don't concern us."
"No, that's right. Split mackerel! Look at that fellow jump. He'sgot 'em all beat!" and Tom excitedly, pointed at the porpoises, thewhole school of which was swimming but a short distance from thesteamer.
"Yes, a lot of them are jumping now. I wonder--"
"Look! Look!" cried the man who had been talking to Mr. Damon."Something out of the ordinary is going on among those porpoises. Inever saw them leap out of the water like that before."
"Sharks! It's sharks!" cried a sailor who came running along thedeck. "A school of sharks are after the porpoises!" "I believe he'sright," added Mr. Sander, the gentleman with Mr. Damon. "See,there's the ugly snout of one now. He made a bite for that bigporpoise but missed."
"Bless my meat axe!" cried the odd man. "So he did. Say, boys, thisis worth seeing. There'll be a big fight in a minute."
"Not much of a fight," remarked Mr. Sander. "The porpoise isn'tbuilt for fighting. They're trying to get away from the sharks byleaping up."
"Why don't they dive, and so get away?" asked Ned.
"The sharks are too good at diving," went on Mr. Sander. "Theporpoises couldn't escape that way. Their only hope is thatsomething will scare the sharks away, otherwise they'll kill untiltheir appetites are satisfied, and that isn't going to be very soonI'm afraid."
"Look! Look!" cried Ned. "A shark leaped half way out of the waterthen."
"Yes, I saw it," called Tom.
There was now considerable excitement on deck. Nearly all thepassengers, many of the crew and several of the officers werewatching the strange sight. The porpoises were frantically tumbling,turning and leaping to get away from their voracious enemies.
"Oh, if I only had my electric rifle!" cried Tom. "I'd make some ofthose ugly sharks feel sick!"
"Bless my cartridge belt!" cried Mr. Damon. "That would be a goodidea. The porpoises are such harmless creatures. It's a shame to seethem attacked so."
For the activity of the sharks had now redoubled, and they weredarting here and there amid the school of porpoises biting withtheir cruel jaws. The other fish were frantically leaping andtumbling, but the strange part of it was that the schools of sharksand porpoises kept about the same distance ahead of the ship, sothat the passengers had an excellent view of the novel and thrillingsight.
"Rifle!" said Mr. Sander, catching at the word. "I fancy the captainmay have some. He's quite a friend of mine, I'll speak to him."
"Get me one, too, if you please," called Ned as the gentlemanhurried away.
"And I'll also try my luck at potting a shark. Bless my gunpowder ifI won't!" said Mr. Damon.
The captain did have several rifles in his stateroom, and he loanedthem to Mr. Sander. They were magazine weapons, firing sixteen shotseach, but they were not of as high power as those Tom had packedaway.
"Now we'll make those sharks sing a different tune, if sharks sing!"cried the young inventor.
"Yes, we're coming to the rescue of the porpoises!" added Ned.
The passengers crowded up to witness the marksmanship, and soon thelads and Mr. Damon were at it.
It was no easy matter to hit a shark, as the big, ugly fish wereonly seen for a moment in their mad rushes after the porpoises, butboth Tom and Ned were good shots and they made the bullets tell.
"There, I hit one big fellow!" cried Mr. Damon. "Bless my bull'seye, but I plugged him right in the mouth, I think."
"I hope you knocked out some of his teeth," cried Ned.
They fired rapidly, and while they probably hit some of the innocentporpoises in their haste, yet they accomplished what they had setout to do--scare off the sharks. In a little while the "tigers ofthe sea" as some one has aptly called them, disappeared.
"That's the stuff!" cried Mr. Damon. "Now we can watch the porpoisesat play."
But they did not have that sight to interest them very long. For, assuddenly as the gamboling fish had appeared, they sank from sight--allbut a few dead ones that the sharks had left floating on the calmsurface of the ocean. Probably the timid fish had taken some alarmfrom the depths into which they sank.
"Well, that was some excitement while it lasted," remarked Tom. ashe and Ned took the rifles back to the captain.
"But it didn't bring out the mysterious passengers," added Ned. Tomshook his head and on their return to deck he purposely went out ofhis way to go past Stateroom No. 27, where the "Wilsons" werequartered. The door was closed and a momentary pause to listenbrought our hero no clew, for all was silent in the room.
"It's too much for me," he murmured, shaking his head and herejoined his chum.
Several more days passed, for the Maderia was a slow boat, and couldnot make good time to Mexico. However, our travelers were in nohaste, and they fully enjoyed the voyage.
Try as Tom did to get a glimpse of the mysterious passengers he wasunsuccessful. He spent many hours in a night, and early morningvigil, only to have to do his sleeping next day, and it resulted innothing.
"I guess they want to get on Mexican soil before any one sees theirfaces," spoke Ned, and Tom was inclined to agree with his chum.
They awoke one morning to find the sea tempestuous. The ship tossedand rolled amid the billows, and the captain said they had run intothe tail end of a gulf hurricane.
"Two days more and we'll be in port," he added, "and I'm sorry thevoyage had to be marred even by this blow."
For it did blow, and, though it was not a dangerous storm, yet manypassengers kept below.
"I'm afraid this settles it," remarked Tom that night, when the shipwas still pitching and tossing. "They won't come out now, and thisis likely to keep up until we get to port. Well, I can't help it."
But fate was on the verge of aiding Tom in an unexpected way. Nearlyevery one turned in early that night for it was no pleasure to sitin the saloons, and to lie in one's berth made it easier to standthe rolling of the vessel.
Tom and Ned, together with Mr. Damon, had fallen into slumber inspite of the storm, when, just as eight bells announced midnightthere was a sudden jar throughout the whole ship.
The Maderia quivered from stem to stern, seemed to hesitate a mo
mentas though she had been brought to a sudden stop, and then plowed on,only to bring up against some obstruction again, with that samesickening jar throughout her length.
"Bless my soul! What's that?" cried Mr. Damon, springing from hisberth.
"Something has happened!" added Tom, as he reached out and switchedon the electric lights.
"We hit something!" declared Ned.
The ship was now almost stopped and she was rolling from side toside.
Up on deck could be heard confused shouts and the running to and froof many feet. The jangling of bells sounded--hoarse orders wereshouted--and there arose a subdued hubbub in the interior of theship.
"Something sure is wrong!" cried Tom. "We'd better get our clotheson and get on deck! Come on, Ned and Mr. Damon! Grab lifepreservers!"