CHAPTER VIII.IN THE BALTIC.
“Great Scott! What was that?”
It was Frank who spoke. He picked himself up from where he had been thrown by a violent shock and rubbed his head ruefully, glancing at Lord Hastings quietly the while.
Lord Hastings also had been hurled against the side of his cabin, as had Jack, who also was now regaining his feet.
Lord Hastings’ reply was brief, and it was not an answer to Frank’s question.
“Submerge quickly, Mr. Templeton!” he ordered.
Jack gave the command.
Lord Hastings stepped to the tube that connected with the engine room. A voice came back to him.
“Hello?” it said.
“Any damage to the engines, Jarvis?” asked Lord Hastings.
“None, sir,” was the reply.
“Anybody hurt?”
“No one but me. Head bruised a bit, sir, by being thrown against the boiler. Nothing serious, sir.”
“All right.”
Lord Hastings stepped from the tube.
“Now,” he said to Frank, “I’ll answer your question. While I can’t say for sure, my guess would be that, in rising, we came up under an ice floe or an iceberg. That would account for the shock.”
“By Jove!” Jack ejaculated. “I hadn’t thought of such a thing.”
“Nor had I,” said Lord Hastings, “but I should have thought of it. At this time of year it is no uncommon thing for large icebergs to be floating about in the Baltic. I am sure that is what is wrong.”
“Then what shall we do, sir?”
“Well, we’ll have to run on a ways. When we are from beneath the berg, we shall try again to get to the surface.”
He gave the signal for ten knots ahead.
The D-17 had passed through the Kiel Canal without difficulty, in spite of the German belief that such a feat was impossible; and this German belief persisted in spite of the fact that Lord Hastings and his two young officers had performed such a feat once before—and the Germans were aware of it. Apparently, however, the enemy was confident a second attempt would never be made.
It was a long time ago now that the perilous trip had been made, but all three remembered it well. They had spoken of it often as the submarine made its way along slowly, a keen lookout being kept forward for mines or other obstructions.
Half an hour later Lord Hastings decided that the D-17 must have passed from under the iceberg, or whatever it was that had barred the vessel’s attempt to come to the surface.
“We’ll try it again, now,” he said briefly.
In response to his commands the pumps began to work very slowly, for Lord Hastings had no mind to crash into an obstruction with the same force as before.
“The vessel might stand it and it might not,” he explained as his reason for his caution. “There is no need testing the strength of our shell unless absolutely necessary.”
“Don’t you think she could force her way through, sir?” asked Jack.
“It all depends,” was his commander’s rejoinder. “It depends upon the thickness of the ice above.”
The D-17 rose gradually; then, with a slight grating sound, she paused suddenly.
“Bumped it again,” said Frank.
Lord Hastings nodded.
“Must be quite an iceberg,” was Jack’s comment.
“Unless the sea is frozen over solidly for a considerable distance,” supplemented Lord Hastings.
“But that could hardly be,” protested Frank.
“Oh, yes, it could. It has happened more than once; and for that reason it may possibly happen—or have happened—again.”
“Then what is our next move, sir?” asked Jack.
“We’ll proceed under water a ways and then try again. If we don’t come up next time, we’ll try and force our way to the surface. We’ve got to get up for a look around, and the sooner the better. The ice is likely to grow thicker with each succeeding minute.”
Again the D-17 proceeded under water for perhaps half an hour and then Lord Hastings announced his intention of trying to rise.
The result this time was the same. After ascending several fathoms, the submarine encountered ice and stopped.
“Well, there is no help for it,” said Lord Hastings. “We’ll have to try and break through. Submerge to ten fathoms, Mr. Templeton.”
Jack repeated the command and the D-17 dived deeper. At the proper depth, the vessel’s course was checked. Then Lord Hastings ordered that the craft be brought to the surface with as much force as possible.
The water was sent from the tanks with a rush and the D-17 seemed to leap upward. A few moments later there was a violent shock and all aboard were thrown from their feet. The submarine had failed to break through.
“Again!” cried Lord Hastings and gave the signal to submerge.
A second attempt met with no better result and Lord Hastings immediately commanded a third trial.
“We’ll have to get through now or we’ll probably drown,” he said quietly. “I am afraid we have strained our seams. We’ll need an overhauling immediately we put into Petrograd—if we are fortunate enough to get there.”
“And what do you suppose has happened to our periscope?” demanded Frank.
“Oh, that has been smashed to bits before now,” said Lord Hastings quietly. “However, we can rig up another one if it is necessary before we get to port.”
“All ready for the next trial, sir,” Jack put in at this juncture. “We are down five fathoms.”
“All right. Let her go,” replied his commander.
This time the D-17 rose even more swiftly than before. Again there was a violent shock, followed by a crashing sound; and then the submarine floated clear.
“Hoorah! We’re up, sir,” shouted Frank.
“Don’t crow too soon,” was the reply. “We may be up, but there is no telling yet what condition we are in. We’ll go on deck.”
Lord Hastings led the way and the two lads followed closely behind him.
Outside a strange sight met their gaze. To the north, to the south and to the east and west, as far as the eye could reach, there was nothing but ice. True, it was broken in places, but it was none the less ice. The D-17 was hemmed in closely on all sides.
Jack expressed the sentiments of the others with a long whistle.
“Now, what do you think of that?” he said.
“I think it’s pretty tough, if you are talking to me,” was Frank’s reply. “We can’t push through that.”
“No; and we can’t stay here and wait for it to thaw,” declared his chum.
“Well, then what?” asked Frank.
Lord Hastings, who had not spoken up to this moment, now broke his silence and said:
“Never give up the ship, boys. While there’s life, there’s hope.”
“And have you a plan of some kind, sir?” asked Jack eagerly.
“Well, I have something that might be called a plan. If you look closely you will see that a hundred yards ahead there, there is what appears to be a lane—where the ice is broken. Do you see it?”
“Yes, sir,” replied both lads in a single voice. “But the ice between the D-17 and that spot is solid.”
“So it is. What we shall do is to dive, shape our course for that particular point and try to come to the surface there.”
“And what good will that do, sir?” demanded Frank. “The chances are that the ice beyond that point is just as thick as it is here.”
“We’ll find that out when we get there,” said Lord Hastings. “Let’s go below.”
They did so. The conning tower was immediately sealed, and the submarine submerged to a depth necessary to avoid any points of ice that might be likely to protrude beneath the water.
Lord Hastings had gauged the distance accurately, and when he again gave the command to come to the surface, the D-17 rose gently, pushing the loosely formed ice to both sides as her nose appeared from the deep. Lord Hastings and his two young officers immediately went on deck again.
“By Jove!” said Frank after a quick glance around. “The ice doesn’t seem to be so thick dead ahead.”
“You see,” said Lord Hastings with a smile, “a little perseverance will go a long ways sometimes. Now, according to your reasoning awhile back, there was really no use in trying to reach this spot. But now that we are here you see still further hope. Remember that there is always a fighting chance, no matter how great the odds against you.”
“I’ll remember, sir,” replied Frank.
“I hope you will. Now we’ll try our luck at forcing a passage through the ice.”
“In what way, sir?” asked Jack.
Lord Hastings’ next words were explanation enough.
“Full speed ahead!” he ordered.
In response to the command, the D-17 dashed straight at the ice ahead. Her sharp, steel nose plowed into it with violence, and the ice, thick though it was, parted and the D-17 edged through as swiftly as could be expected.
“By Jove! I didn’t think she’d do it, sir,” Jack exclaimed.
Lord Hastings smiled a bit.
“I am not sure that she can keep it up without straining something,” he said. “But it is better to be on the move than lying still. The ice won’t part for us of its own free will, that’s sure.”
Still the D-17 plowed slowly along; and then, perhaps half a mile from the starting point, she stopped.
“Back her and try again,” was Lord Hastings’ command.
This was done and again the vessel made headway. This process was repeated time after time; and some five hours later, those upon deck made out clear water beyond, though there was a considerable expanse of ice to penetrate.
Undaunted, Lord Hastings continued to force the D-17 against the apparently impenetrable barrier; and at last the D-17 broke clear.
Lord Hastings gave a sigh of relief.
“Now for Petrograd at full speed,” he said. “We’ll have a look over the ship as we go along. There is no need stopping to do it here. Every minute may be precious. Take the wheel, Mr. Chadwick, while I make a tour of inspection.”
Frank did so, and Lord Hastings turned to Jack with this command:
“Full speed ahead, Mr. Templeton!”