Edward Stratemeyer - At the Fall of Port Arthur - or, A Young American in the Japanese Navy

"See here, Semmel," he called out, "why didn't you stow away those ropes as I told you?"

"Stow dem avay in a leetle vile," answered the sailor with the heavy beard.

"You'll stow them away now," returned Larry, sharply. He did not at all fancy the manner of the hand he was addressing. "I told you to do it an hour ago. We don't want anything loose on deck when this storm hits us."

"Vincent kicked de ropes out dare," growled Semmel. "I had nodding to do mit 'em."

"That isn't here or there. I told you to stow them away, and I want you to do it. If you don't, I'll have to report you to the captain."

"Oh, I do him!" grumbled Semmel, but he glared at Larry as if he wished to chew the young second mate up. "You put all dare vork on me, hey?" he added, after a pause.

"You've got to do your share of it."

"Humph!" Semmel seemed on the point of saying more, but shut his teeth and began to arrange the ropes in proper order. Larry watched him for a moment and then walked away. As soon as his back was turned the sailor shook his fist at the young second mate.

"You vait!" he muttered. "Chust vait, you Jankee rat!"

The sky kept growing darker, and soon came a puff of wind much heavier than any that had gone before. The Columbia had been moving over the waves on an even keel, but now she gave a sudden lurch to starboard.

"Reckon it's time to take them reefs in the fore-course," said Grandon to Larry, and soon the sailors were at work on the sheets, leaving just sufficient canvas up to make the schooner mind her helm. It was hard work, for the sudden gusts made the sail snap and crack like a whip.

So far it had not rained a drop, but now came a sudden downpour, the drops "as big as hen's eggs," to use Luke Striker's manner of describing them. Then came a flash of lightning out of the western sky, followed by a rumble of thunder.

"This is going to be an old-time storm," was Larry's comment, as he met Luke Striker near the forecastle. "I'll have to get my oilskin out."

Luke already had his raincoat on and soon the young mate was similarly provided. Wind and rain were increasing, and presently there came a flash of lightning and a clap of thunder that made everybody jump. The thunder brought Captain Ponsberry to the deck in a hurry.

"Did that hit us?" he questioned, looking around anxiously.

"No, sir, but it was pretty close," replied Grandon.

"Is everything secure?" went on the commander, to Larry.

"Yes, sir."

It was difficult to converse further, for the wind was now whistling through the rigging, driving the rain in sheets across the deck. All had to hold fast for fear of being swept overboard. On every side the sea was lashing itself into a foam and the waves were growing higher and higher. At one instant the Columbia would seem to be riding on top of a mountain, the next she would sink down and down into the trough of the sea.

"Well, Larry, how do you like this?" questioned Captain Ponsberry, as he took a position beside the second mate.

"Oh, I don't mind it at all," was the cheery answer. "I used to mind the storms, but I've got used to them."

"This isn't a plaything we are getting."

"Oh, I know that – you can see it by the way the wind is driving us. But we are not near any land, are we?"

"No."

"Then we'll be sure to outride it. I feel I can bank on the old Columbia for almost anything."

At this Captain Ponsberry laid an affectionate hand on his second mate's shoulder.

"Reckon you love the old craft about as well as I do," he said.

"I don't know about that – you've been on board so many more years than myself. But to me she is a second home."

"I see. Well, let us hope we get through with this trip in safety."

"Don't you imagine we'll do it?" questioned Larry, quickly.

"Certainly. But you must remember that we may have trouble if we fall in with any Russian warship." Captain Ponsberry lowered his voice. "Did you have trouble with Semmel?"

"A little. I ordered him to coil up some ropes and he didn't obey me right away. But he stowed them away afterwards."

Captain Ponsberry drew a long breath. "The more I see of that chap the less I like him."

"I never liked him from the start," answered Larry, frankly. "But you'll have to give him credit for being a good all-round sailor."

"There is no doubt but what he is that, Larry. But he has a bad eye."

"What do you think he could do to harm us?"

"Nothing – unless we fell in with a Russian warship. In that case, if he was a Russian sympathizer, he might expose the fact that while we are carrying a cargo for the Richmond Importing Company the goods are really meant for the Japanese Government."

"Does he know that?"

"I'm not sure, one way or the other. What I am afraid of is, that he may know a good bit more nor we suspect."

"I see." The young second mate mused for a moment. "I'll tell you what I'd do, if I thought he was going to play me foul – and we fell in with a Russian warship. I'd clap him below decks, out of sight until the warship went on her way again."

"That's easily said; but I can't make him a prisoner unless I can prove something against him."

"You can lock him up if he is sulky and won't obey orders."

"Yes, that is true. Still – Phew!"

The captain broke off short, for a vivid streak of lightning flared all over the upper masts of the ship. The thunder-clap was as sharp as it was deafening, and for the moment all on board thought the Columbia had surely been struck. Then came a downpour which made even the boldest of the sailors seek shelter.

"That was closer than I like," was Larry's comment, after it was ascertained that the ship was unharmed.

"'Most knocked me overboard," came from Luke Striker. "Gosh! reckon my hair's singed," and he put up his hand and ran his fingers through his grayish locks. "Don't want another like thet nohow!"

A few minutes later came another flash of lightning, but this was to the eastward, showing that the center of the storm had passed them. The wind was apparently going down, but the sea was as angry as ever and would be for hours to come.

Luke had retired to the forecastle with several other sailors. Larry's watch on deck was also at an end, and he was just on the point of going below, when from the west came a curious humming sound which made the young second mate pause. The humming increased, and then of a sudden the Columbia was caught in a hurricane blast that threw her far over on her side.

"Help!" Larry heard, in the voice of Captain Ponsberry. "Somebody help me, quick, or I'll go overboard!"

The accident which had happened to Captain Nat Ponsberry was certainly a curious one, although similar to that which once cost the life of a young officer in our navy.

When the hurricane blast reached the Columbia , the captain was in the act of slipping on a lined raincoat, – a big affair, with long sleeves and an extra high collar. One arm was in the coat and the other was going down the sleeve when it caught in the lining. At that instant the shock threw the captain across the deck and almost over the railing. He caught at the railing with his free hand, but his other hand remained a prisoner in the coat sleeve, while the garment itself stuck in a bunch across his shoulders.

"Help!" he roared again. He tried to pull himself up, and to free the hand in the sleeve, but found both impossible.

Larry did not wait for a second cry for assistance. He knew the captain so well that he felt the officer would only call when in dire peril. He ran out on the slippery deck in double-quick order.

"Hullo, where are you?" he yelled.

"Here! Help!"