# The Rover Boys in Southern Waters/Chapter 15

CHAPTER XV
THE CASTAWAYS OF THE GULF
"It vos der earthkvake!" yelled Hans, as he scrambled to his feet. "Der oceans vos all busted up alretty! Safe me!" And he ran for the cabin doorway.
"We must have struck something in the fog!" cried Dick, as he, too, arose. "Oh!"
Another crash had come, heavier than the first, and the Mascotte careened far over to port. Then came wild screams from the deck, followed by orders delivered in rapid succession. All in a moment the passengers were in a panic, asking what had been struck and if the steamer was going down.
The Rovers and their friends tried to make their way on deck, but another shock threw Fred and Songbird back into the cabin and partly stunned them. Then Harold Bird ran to his stateroom, to get a pocketbook containing his money.
Out on the deck all was misty, the lights gleaming faintly through the darkness. To one side loomed up another steamer, of the "tramp" ​variety, heavily laden with a miscellaneous cargo from Central American ports.
"The Mascotte is going down!" was the cry, as the steamer gave a suspicious lurch. Then came another crash, and before he knew it Dick Rover went spinning over the side, into the dark and misty waters of the gulf!
It was certainly a time of extreme peril, and had not poor Dick kept his wits about him he must surely have been drowned. Down he went over his head and it was fully quarter of a minute before he came to the surface once more, spluttering and dashing the water from his eyes. He looked around, felt something hard hit him, and then went under once more.
He knew he was near the bottom of some ship and held his breath as long as possible. When he again arose it was to gasp for air. Now he was free of the ship, and the rolling waters of the Gulf of Mexico lay all around him.
His first impulse was to cry out for help, and again and again he raised his voice. But the confusion on board the Mascotte and the other steamer was so great that nobody heard him, or, at least, paid any attention.
Dick strained his eyes and could make out the steamer lights dimly. He was about to yell again, when something floated near and struck him down once again. But as he came up he ​caught at the object and held fast to it. It was a large crate, empty, and with considerable difficulty he climbed on top.
"This is better than nothing," he thought. And then, catching his breath, he set up a long and lusty cry, in the meantime watching with a sinking heart the lights of both steamers as they faded from view.
A quarter of an hour passed—it seemed much longer to poor Dick,—and the lights disappeared entirely. His heart sank like lead in his bosom.
"They won't come back for me now," he reasoned. "Perhaps the steamboat is sinking and the others have enough to do to think of saving themselves."
The crate Dick was upon was not extra large, and it merely allowed him to keep his head and shoulders out of water. Fortunately the night was not cold, so he suffered little from his involuntary bath. But he realized the seriousness of his situation and was correspondingly sober.
"I must be a good way from land," he reasoned. "I'll have my own troubles saving myself, even if the mist clears away."
Another quarter of an hour went by and then Dick thought he heard voices. He strained his ears.
"I think Dick went overboard too, although I am not sure," came, in Sam's tones.
​"Yah, I dink dot," answered Hans Mueller. "Und I dink Tom he falls ofer also alretty!"
"Hullo, there!" cried Dick. "Is that you, Sam?"
"Who calls?" came the answering query.
"It is I, Dick Rover!"
"Dick!" came from Sam and Hans.
"Where are you?"
"This way!" called Sam, and kept on calling until Dick drew closer and at last made out his brother and the German boy clinging to another crate.
"This is lucky—as far as it goes," said Sam.
"Are you hurt?"
"Not at all. And you?"
"I got a scratch on my wrist, that is all, and Hans says he twisted his left ankle a little. But we are glad we weren't drowned."
"What of the others?"
"I am almost sure Tom went overboard. I think the others remained on the steamer."
"Was she sinking?"
"I think she was. I heard somebody say there was a big hole stove in her near the port bow."
After that the three youths pulled the two crates together. A grass rope was fastened to one of the affairs and they used this in joining the two, and then the castaways made themselves ​as comfortable as possible on their improvised raft.
The thought that Tom might have been drowned cast a gloom over Sam and Dick and also made Hans feel bad. Consequently but little was said for the next few hours. All kept their eyes strained for the sight of some friendly light, but none came to view.
"How many miles do you think we are from shore?" asked Sam, presently.
"I haven't any idea," answered Dick. "At least fifty or a hundred."
"Ve vill nefer see der land again!" groaned Hans. "I vish ve had gone to dot Dampa py railroad drain, ain't it!"
"Well, even railroad trains occasionally have smash-ups," answered Dick, philosophically.
At last it began to grow light and with the coming of morning the mist lifted a trifle, so that they were able to see around them. A gentle breeze was blowing, causing the bosom of the gulf to ruffle up. Sam climbed up to the top of the crates.
"See anything?" queried his brother.
"Well, I never!" ejaculated the youngest Rover. "If that doesn't beat the nation!"
He pointed off to their left and then all looked—and actually laughed. And well might they do so.
​There, on the waters, rode a rude raft made of several empty boxes and crates. On the top of this affair stood a campstool, and on the stool sat Tom Rover, making himself as comfortable as possible.
"Tom!" the others yelled in concert, and the fun-loving Rover looked around eagerly.
"Hello, you!" he called back. "How many?"
"Three," answered Sam. "Dick, Hans, and myself."
"Good enough."
"You certainly seem to be taking it easy," said Dick, as the two rude rafts floated close to each other.
"Well, why not take it easy if it doesn't cost any more?" demanded Tom, coolly. "I either had to sit on the chair or in the water, and I preferred to sit on the chair."
"Do you know anything about the others, Tom?"
"No, but I am afraid they are drowned," and now the fun-loving Rover became serious.
"What makes you think that?" asked Sam.
"I think the steamer went down with nearly, everybody on board."
"Dot is teirible!" burst out Hans. "Poor Fred! Und poor Songpird! Vot vill der folks say ven da hear dot?" And he shook his head, dubiously.
​"And poor Harold Bird!" added Dick. He had taken a strong liking to the young Southerner.
As it grew lighter those on the bosom of the gulf looked vainly for some sign of land or a sail, but hour after hour passed and nothing came to view but the waters under them and the mist and sky overhead.
"I am more than hungry," grumbled Tom. "I didn't get half enough to eat on that steamer and now I could lay into almost anything."
"Ditto here," answered his younger brother.
"Der poat must haf gone town," said Hans. "Of not, den da vould look aroundt und pick us ub, hey?"
"I don't believe Captain Fretwood would put himself out to look for us," answered Dick. "He hated our whole crowd and would gladly get rid of us."
A little later Sam shifted his position and chanced to place a hand in one of his coat pockets.
"Here's luck!" he cried. "Not much, but something." And he drew forth a thick cake of sweet chocolate, done up in tinfoil and paper.
"Oh, it's salted and will make us thirsty," said Dick.
The chocolate was examined and found to be in fairly good condition, and despite the salt they could not resist the temptation to divide the cake and eat it up. As my readers must know, ​chocolate is very nourishing and they felt much better after the brief lunch, although very thirsty.
"I bought that on the train from Bay St. Louis to Mobile," explained the youngest Rover. "Sorry now I didn't get half a dozen."
"And a bottle of lemon soda with it," added Tom, who was bound to have a little fun no matter how serious the outlook.
Slowly the morning wore away. About eleven o'clock it looked as if the sun might come out, but soon it clouded over as before and then the mist began to crawl up.
"This is terrible," sighed Sam, at last. "Dick, what can we do?"
"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 Dick. Then a silence fell on the little crowd. Matters were growing serious indeed, and all wondered how the adventure would end.