Tom Swift and his Wireless Message
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Victor Appleton >> Tom Swift and his Wireless Message
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The lad turned back. Mr. Damon and Mr. Fenwick were staring after
him with fear showing on their faces.
"What was that?" cried the inventor.
"Bless my gizzard! Did you feel that, Tom?" cried Mr. Damon. "The
whole place is shaking!"
Indeed, there was a stronger tremor now, and it was accompanied by a
low, rumbling sound, like distant thunder. The adventurers were
swaying to and fro.
Suddenly they were tossed to the ground by a swaying motion, and not
far off a great crack opened in the earth. The roaring, rumbling
sound increased in volume.
"An earthquake! It's an earthquake!" cried Tom. "We're in the midst
of an earthquake!"
CHAPTER XIV
A NIGHT IN CAMP
The rumbling and roaring continued for perhaps two minutes, during
which time the castaways found it impossible to stand, for the
island was shaking under their feet with a sickening motion. Off to
one side there was a great fissure in the earth, and, frightened as
he was, Tom looked to see if it was extending in their direction.
If it was, or if a crack opened near them, they might be
precipitated into some bottomless abyss, or into the depths of the
sea. But the fissure did not increase in length or breadth, and,
presently the rumbling, roaring sound subsided. The island grew
quiet and the airship travelers rose to their feet.
"Bless my very existence! What happened?" cried Mr. Damon.
"It was an earthquake; wasn't it, Tom?" asked Mr. Fenwick.
"It sure was," agreed the young inventor. "Rather a hard one, too. I
hope we don't have any more."
"Do you think there is any likelihood of it?" demanded Mr. Damon.
"Bless my pocketbook! If I thought so I'd leave at once."
"Where would you go?" inquired Tom, looking out across the tumbling
ocean, which had hardly had a chance to subside from the gale, ere
it was again set in a turmoil by the earth-tremor.
"That's so--there isn't a place to escape to," went on the eccentric
man, with something like a groan. "We are in a bad place--do you
think there'll be more quakes, Tom?"
"It's hard to say. I don't know where we are, and this island may be
something like Japan, subject to quakes, or it may be that this one
is merely a spasmodic tremor. Perhaps the great storm which brought
us here was part of the disturbance of nature which ended up with
the earthquake. We may have no more."
"And there may be one at any time," added Mr. Fenwick.
"Yes," assented Tom.
"Then let's get ready for it," proposed Mr. Damon. "Let's take all
the precautions possible."
"There aren't any to take," declared Tom. "All we can do is to wait
until the shocks come--if any more do come, which I hope won't
happen, and then we must do the best we can."
"Oh, dear me! Bless my fingernails!" cried Mr. Damon, wringing his
hands. "This is worse than falling in an airship! There you do have
SOME chance. Here you haven't any."
"Oh, it may not be so bad," Tom cried to reassure him. "This may
have been the first shock in a hundred years, and there may never be
another."
But, as he looked around on the island, he noted evidences that it
was of volcanic origin, and his heart misgave him, for he knew that
such islands, created suddenly by a submarine upheaval, might just
as suddenly be destroyed by an earthquake, or by sinking into the
ocean. It was not a pleasant thought--it was like living over a
mine, that might explode at any moment. But there was no help for
it.
Tom tried to assume a cheerfulness he did not feel. He realized
that, in spite of his youth, both Mr. Damon and Mr. Fenwick rather
depended on him, for Tom was a lad of no ordinary attainments, and
had a fund of scientific knowledge. He resolved to do his best to
avoid making his two companions worry.
"Let's get it off our minds," suggested the lad, after a while. "We
were going to get something to eat. Suppose we carry out that
program. My appetite wasn't spoiled by the shock."
"I declare mine wasn't either," said Mr. Damon, "but I can't forget
it easily. It's the first earthquake I was ever in."
He watched Tom as the latter advanced once more toward the wreck of
the airship, and noticed that the lad limped, for his right leg had
been cut when the WHIZZER had fallen to earth.
"What's the matter, Tom; were you hurt in the quake?" asked the
eccentric man.
"No--no," Tom hastened to assure him. "I just got a bump in the
fall--that's all. It isn't anything. If you and Mr. Fenwick want to
get out some food from the wrecked store room I'll see if I can haul
out the gasolene stove from the airship. Perhaps we can use it to
make some coffee."
By delving in about the wreck, Tom was able to get out the gasolene
stove. It was broken, but two of the five burners were in
commission, and could be used. Water, and gasolene for use in the
airship, was carried in steel tanks. Some of these had been split
open by the crash, but there was one cask of water left, and three
of gasolene, insuring plenty of the liquid fuel. As for the water,
Tom hoped to be able to find a spring on the island.
In the meanwhile, Mr. Damon and Mr. Fenwick had been investigating
the contents of the storeroom. There was a large supply of food,
much larger than would have been needed, even on a two weeks' trip
in the air, and the inventor of the WHIZZER hardly knew why he had
put so much aboard.
"But if we have to stay here long, it may come in handy," observed
Tom, with a grim smile.
"Why; do you think we WILL be here long?" asked Mr. Damon.
The young inventor shrugged his shoulders.
"There is no telling," he said. "If a passing steamer happens to see
us, we may be taken off to-day or to-morrow. If not we may be here a
week, or--" Tom did not finish. He stood in a listening attitude.
There was a rumbling sound, and the earth seemed again to tremble.
Then there came a great splash in the water at the foot of a tall,
rugged cliff about a quarter of a mile away. A great piece of the
precipice had fallen into the ocean.
"I thought that was another earthquake coming," said Mr. Damon, with
an air of relief.
"So did I," admitted Mr. Fenwick.
"It was probably loosened by the shock, and so fell into the sea,"
spoke Tom.
Their momentary fright over, the castaways proceeded to get their
breakfast. Tom soon had water boiling on the gasolene stove, for he
had rescued a tea-kettle and a coffee pot from the wreck of the
kitchen of the airship. Shortly afterward, the aroma of coffee
filled the air, and a little later there was mingled with it the
appetizing odor of sizzling bacon and eggs, for Mr. Fenwick, who was
very fond of the latter, had brought along a supply, carefully
packed in sawdust carriers, so that the shock had broken only a few
of them.
"Well, I call this a fine breakfast," exclaimed Mr. Damon, munching
his bacon and eggs, and dipping into his coffee the hard pilot
biscuit, which they had instead of bread. "We're mighty lucky to be
eating at all, I suppose."
"Indeed we are," chimed in Mr. Fenwick.
"I'm awfully sorry the airship is wrecked, though," spoke Tom. "I
suppose it's my fault. I should have turned back before we got over
the ocean, and while the storm was not at its height. I saw that the
wind was freshening, but I never supposed it would grow to a gale so
suddenly. The poor old WHIZZER--there's not much left of her!"
"Now don't distress yourself in the least," insisted Mr. Fenwick.
"I'm proud to have built a ship that could navigate at all. I see
where I made lots of mistakes, and as soon as I get back to
Philadelphia, I'm going to build a better one, if you'll help me,
Tom Swift."
"I certainly will," promised the young inventor.
"And I'll take a voyage with you!" cried Mr. Damon. "Bless my
teaspoon, Tom, but will you kindly pass the bacon and eggs again!"
There was a jolly laugh at the eccentric man, in which he himself
joined, and the little party felt better. They were seated on bits
of broken boxes taken from the wreck, forming a little circle about
the gasolene stove, which Tom had set up on the beach. The wind had
almost entirely died away, though the sea was still heaving in great
billows, and masses of surf.
They had no exact idea of the time, for all their watches had
stopped when the shock of the wreck came, but presently the sun
peeped out from the clouds, and, from knowing the time when they had
begun to fall, they judged it was about ten o'clock, and accordingly
set their timepieces.
"Well," observed Tom, as he collected the dishes, which they had
also secured from the wreck, "we must begin to think about a place
to spend the night. I think we can rig up a shelter from some of the
canvas of the wing-planes, and from what is left of the cabin. It
doesn't need to be very heavy, for from the warmth of the
atmosphere, I should say we were pretty well south."
It was quite warm, now that the storm was over, and, as they looked
at the vegetation of the island, they saw that it was almost wholly
tropical.
"I shouldn't be surprised if we were on one of the smaller of the
West Indian islands," said Tom. "We certainly came far enough,
flying a hundred miles or more an hour, to have reached them. But
this one doesn't appear to be inhabited."
"We haven't been all over it yet," said Mr. Damon. "We may find
cannibals on the other side."
"Cannibals don't live in this part of the world," Tom assured him.
"No, I think this island is practically unknown. The storm brought
us here, and it might have landed us in a worse place."
As he spoke he thought of the yacht RESOLUTE, and he wondered how
her passengers, including the parents of Mary Nestor, had fared
during the terrible blow.
"I hope they weren't wrecked, as we were," mused Tom.
But there was little time for idle thoughts. If they were going to
build a shelter, they knew that they must speedily get at it.
Accordingly, with a feeling of thankfulness that their lives had
been spared, they set to work taking apart such of the wreck as
could the more easily be got at.
Boards, sticks, and planks were scattered about, and, with the
pieces of canvas from the wing-planes, and some spare material which
was carried on board, they soon had a fairly good shack, which would
be protection enough in that warm climate.
Next they got out the food and supplies, their spare clothing and
other belongings, few of which had been harmed in the fall from the
clouds. These things were piled under another rude shelter which
they constructed.
By this time it was three o'clock, and they ate again. Then they
prepared to spend the night in their hastily made camp. They
collected driftwood, with which to make a fire, and, after supper,
which was prepared on the gasolene stove, they sat about the
cheerful blaze, discussing their adventures.
"To-morrow we will explore the island," said Tom, as he rolled
himself up in his blankets and turned over to sleep. The others
followed his example, for it was decided that no watch need be kept.
Thus passed several hours in comparative quiet.
It must have been about midnight that Tom was suddenly awakened by a
feeling as if someone was shaking him. He sat up quickly and called
out:
"What's the matter?"
"Eh? What's that? Bless my soul! What's going on?" shouted Mr.
Damon.
"Did you shake me?" inquired Tom.
"I? No. What--?"
Then they realized that another earth-tremor was making the whole
island tremble.
Tom leaped from his blankets, followed by Mr. Damon and Mr. Fenwick,
and rushed outside the shack. They felt the earth shaking, but it
was over in a few seconds. The shock was a slight one, nothing like
as severe as the one in the morning. But it set their nerves on
edge.
"Another earthquake!" groaned Mr. Damon. "How often are we to have
them?"
"I don't know," answered Tom, soberly.
They passed the remainder of the night sleeping in blankets on the
warm sands, near the fire, for they feared lest a shock might bring
the shack down about their heads. However, the night passed with no
more terrors.
CHAPTER XV
THE OTHER CASTAWAYS
"Well, we're all alive, at any rate," announced Tom, when the bright
sun, shining into his eyes, had awakened him. He sat up, tossed
aside his blankets, and stood up. The day was a fine one, and the
violence of the sea had greatly subsided during the night, their
shack had suffered not at all from the slight shock in the darkness.
"Now for a dip in old Briney," the lad added, as he walked down to
the surf, "I think it will make me feel better."
"I'm with you," added Mr. Fenwick, and Mr. Damon also joined the
bathers. They came up from the waves, tingling with health, and
their bruises and bumps, including Tom's cut leg, felt much better.
"You did get quite a gash; didn't you," observed Mr. Fenwick, as he
noticed Tom's leg. "Better put something on it. I have antiseptic
dressings and bandages in the airship, if we can find them."
"I'll look for them, after breakfast," Tom promised, and following a
fairly substantial meal, considering the exigencies under which it
was prepared, he got out the medicine chest, of which part remained
in the wreck of the WHIZZER, and dressed his wound. He felt much
better after that.
"Well, what's our program for to-day?" Mr. Damon wanted to know, as
they sat about, after they had washed up what few dishes they used.
"Let's make a better house to stay in," proposed Mr. Fenwick. "We
may have to remain here for some time, and I'd like a more
substantial residence."
"I think the one we now have will do," suggested Tom. "I was going
to propose making it even less substantial."
"Why so?"
"Because, in the event of an earthquake, while we are sleeping in
it, we will not be injured. Made of light pieces of wood and canvas
it can't harm us very much if it falls on us."
"That's right," agreed Mr. Damon. "In earthquake countries all the
houses are low, and built of light materials."
"Ha! So I recollect now," spoke Mr. Fenwick. "I used to read that in
my geography, but I never thought it would apply to me. But do you
think we will be subject to the quakes?"
"I'm afraid so," was Tom's reply. "We've had two, now, within a
short time, and there is no way of telling when the next will come.
We will hope there won't be any more, but--"
He did not finish his sentence, but the others knew what he meant.
Thereupon they fell to work, and soon had made a shelter that, while
very light and frail, would afford them all the protection needed in
that mild climate, and, at the same time, there would be no danger
should an earthquake collapse it, and bring it down about their
heads while they were sleeping in it.
For they decided that they needed some shelter from the night dews,
as it was exceedingly uncomfortable to rest on the sands even
wrapped in blankets, and with a driftwood fire burning nearby.
It was noon when they had their shack rebuilt to their liking, and
they stopped for dinner. There was quite a variety of stores in the
airship, enough for a much larger party than that of our three
friends, and they varied their meals as much as possible. Of course
all the stuff they had was canned, though there are some salted and
smoked meats. But canned food can be had in a variety of forms now-
a-days, so the castaways did not lack much.
"What do you say to an exploring expedition this afternoon?" asked
Tom, as they sat about after dinner. "We ought to find out what kind
of an island we're on."
"I agree with you," came from Mr. Fenwick. "Perhaps on the other
side we will stand a much better chance of speaking some passing
vessel. I have been watching the horizon for some time, now, but I
haven't seen the sign of a ship."
"All right, then we'll explore, and see what sort of an island we
have taken possession of," went on Tom.
"And see if it isn't already in possession of natives--or
cannibals," suggested Mr. Damon. "Bless my frying pan! but I should
hate to be captured by cannibals at my time of life."
"Don't worry; there are none here," Tom assured him again.
They set out on their journey around the island. They agreed that it
would be best to follow the beach around, as it was easier walking
that way, since the interior of the place consisted of rugged rocks
in a sort of miniature mountain chain.
"We will make a circuit of the place," proposed Tom, "and then, if
we can discover nothing, we'll go inland. The centre of the island
is quite high, and we ought to be able to see in any direction for a
great distance from the topmost peak. We may be able to signal a
vessel."
"I hope so!" cried Mr. Damon. "I want to send word home that I am
all right. My wife will worry when she learns that the airship, in
which I set out, has disappeared."
"I fancy we all would like to send word home," added Mr. Fenwick.
"My wife never wanted me to build this airship, and, now that I have
sailed in it, and have been wrecked, I know she'll say 'I told you
so,' as soon as I get back to Philadelphia."
Tom said nothing, but he thought to himself that it might be some
time before Mrs. Fenwick would have a chance to utter those
significant words to her husband.
Following the beach line, they walked for several miles. The island
was larger than they had supposed, and it soon became evident that
it would take at least a day to get all around it.
"In which case we will need some lunch with us." said Tom. "I think
the best thing we can do now is to return to camp, and get ready for
a longer expedition to-morrow."
Mr. Fenwick was of the same mind, but Mr. Damon called out:
"Let's go just beyond that cliff, and see what sort of a view is to
be had from there. Then we'll turn back."
To oblige him they followed. They had not gone more than a hundred
yards toward the cliff, than there came the preliminary rumbling and
roaring that they had come to associate with an earthquake. At the
same time, the ground began to shiver and shake.
"Here comes another one!" cried Tom, reeling about. He saw Mr. Damon
and Mr. Fenwick topple to the beach. The roaring increased, and the
rumbling was like thunder, close at hand. The island seemed to rock
to its very centre.
Suddenly the whole cliff toward which they had been walking,
appeared to shake itself loose. In another instant it was flung
outward and into the sea, a great mass of rock and stone.
The island ceased trembling, and the roaring stopped. Tom rose to
his feet, followed by his companions. He looked toward the place
where the cliff had been. Its removal by the earthquake gave them a
view of a part of the beach that had hitherto been hidden from them.
And what Tom saw caused him to cry out in astonishment. For he
beheld, gathered around a little fire on the sand, a party of men
and women. Some were standing, clinging to one another in terror.
Some were prostrate on the ground. Others were running to and fro in
bewilderment.
"More castaways!" cried Tom. "More castaways," and, he added under
his breath, "more unfortunates on earthquake island!"
CHAPTER XVI
AN ALARMING THEORY
For a few seconds, following Tom's announcement to his two
companions, neither Mr. Damon nor Mr. Fenwick spoke. They had arisen
from the beach, where the shock of the earthquake had thrown them,
and were now staring toward the other band of castaways, who, in
turn were gazing toward our three friends. There was a violent
agitation in the sea, caused by the fall of the great cliff, and
immense waves rushed up on shore, but all the islanders were beyond
the reach of the rollers.
"Is it--do I really--am I dreaming or not?" at length gasped Mr.
Damon.
"Is this a mirage, or do we really see people, Tom?" inquired Mr.
Fenwick.
"They are real enough people," replied the lad, himself somewhat
dazed by the unexpected appearance of the other castaways.
"But how--why--how did they get here?" went on the inventor of the
WHIZZER.
"As long as they're not cannibals, we're all right," murmured Mr.
Damon. "They seem to be persons like ourselves, Tom."
"They are," agreed the lad, "and they appear to be in the same sort
of trouble as ourselves. Let's go forward, and meet them."
The tremor of the earthquake had now subsided, and the little band
that was gathered about a big fire of driftwood was calmer. Those
who had fallen, or who had thrown themselves on the sand, arose, and
began feeling of their arms and legs to see if they had sustained
any injuries. Others advanced toward our friends.
"Nine of them," murmured Tom, as he counted the little band of
castaways, "and they don't seem to have been able to save much from
the wreck of their craft, whatever it was." The beach all about them
was bare, save for a boat drawn up out of reach of high water.
"Do you suppose they are a party from some disabled airship, Tom,"
asked Mr. Fenwick.
"Not from an airship," answered the lad. "Probably from some vessel
that was wrecked in the gale. But we will soon find out who they
are."
Tom led the way for his two friends. The fall of the cliff had made
a rugged path around the base of it, over rocks, to where the other
people stood. Tom scrambled in and out among the boulders, in spite
of the pain it caused his wounded leg. He was anxious to know who
the other castaways were, and how they had come there.
Several of the larger party were now advancing to meet the lad and
his friends. Tom could see two women and seven men.
A moment later, when the lad had a good view of one of the ladies
and a gentleman, he could not repress a cry of astonishment. Then he
rubbed his eyes to make sure it was not some blur or defect of
vision. No, his first impression had been correct.
"Mr. Nestor!" cried Tom, recognizing the father of his girl friend.
"And Mrs. Nestor!" he added a moment later.
"Why--of all things--look--Amos--it's--it can't be possible--and
yet--why, it's Tom Swift!" cried the lady.
"Tom--Tom Swift--here?" ejaculated the man at her side.
"Yes--Tom Swift--the young inventor--of Shopton--don't you know--the
lad who saved Mary's life in the runaway--Tom Swift!"
"Tom Swift!" murmured Mr. Nestor. "Is it possible!"
"I'm Tom Swift, all right," answered the owner of that name, "but
how in the world did you get on this island, Mr. Nestor?"
"I might ask you the same thing, Tom. The yacht RESOLUTE, on which
we were making a voyage to the West Indies, as guests of Mr. George
Hosbrook, was wrecked in the awful gale. We took to the boats and
managed to reach this island. The yacht sunk, and we only had a
little food. We are almost starved! But how came you here?"
"Mr. Fenwick's airship was wrecked, and we dropped down here. What a
coincidence! To think that I should meet you here! But if you're
hungry, it's the best thing in the world that we met you, for,
though our airship was wrecked, we have a large supply of food. Come
over to our camp, and we'll give you all you want!"
Tom had rushed forward, and was shaking hands with Mary's parents,
so unexpectedly met with, when Mr. Nestor called out:
"Come over here, Mr. Hosbrook. I want you to meet a friend of mine."
A moment later, the millionaire owner of the ill-fated RESOLUTE was
shaking hands with Tom.
"I can't understand it," Mr. Hosbrook said. "To think of meeting
other people on this desolate island--this island of earthquakes."
"Oh, please don't speak of earthquakes!" cried Mrs. Nestor. "We are
in mortal terror! There have been several since we landed in the
most terrible storm day before yesterday. Isn't it awful! It is a
regular earthquake island!"
"That's what I call it," spoke Tom, grimly.
The others of the larger party of refugees now came up. Besides Mr.
and Mrs. Nestor, and Mr. Hosbrook, there was Mr. and Mrs. Floyd
Anderson, friends of the millionaire; Mr. Ralph Parker, who was
spoken of as a scientist, Mr. Barcoe Jenks, who seemed an odd sort
of individual, always looking about suspiciously, Captain Mentor,
who had been in command of the yacht, and Jake Fordam, the mate of
the vessel.
"And are these all who were saved?" asked Tom, as he introduced his
two friends, and told briefly of their air voyage.
"No," answered Mr. Hosbrook, "two other boatloads, one containing
most of the crew, and the other containing some of my guests, got
away before our boat left. I trust they have been rescued, but we
have heard nothing about them. However, our own lives may not long
be safe, if these earthquakes continue."
"But did I understand you to say, Mr. Swift, that you had food?" he
went on. "If you have, I will gladly pay you any price for some,
especially for these two ladies, who must be faint. I have lost all
my ready cash, but if we ever reach civilization, I will--"
"Don't speak of such a thing as pay," interrupted Mr. Fenwick. "All
that we have we'll gladly share with you. Come over to our camp. We
have enough for all, and we can cook on our gasolene stove. Don't
speak of pay, I beg of you."
"Ah--er, if Mr. Hosbrook has no money, perhaps I can offer an
equivalent," broke in the man who had been introduced as Barcoe
Jenks. "I have--er--some securities--" He stopped and looked about
indefinitely, as though he did not know exactly what to say, and he
was fumbling at a belt about his waist; a belt that might contain
treasure.
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