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CHAPTER VII
New York – And On
THE trip to New York, while interesting, was without incident, and they were glad to stretch their legs in the Pennsylvania Terminal, where hundreds of people from all parts of the country were assembled.
“Now what?” asked Joe, after a bountiful lunch.
“Better get to a hotel,” replied Mr. Holton, picking up his bags.
The party walked outside and hailed a taxi, the driver of which agreed to take them to a comfortable hotel near the waterfront.
“An outside room,” observed Bob, as he glanced at his ticket and followed the others to an elevator.
Their sleeping quarters were on the seventeenth floor, where a wonderful view of lower Manhattan and the waterfront could be had.
“Fairly high, but could be a lot higher,” observed Joe, as he gazed out at the scores of other tall buildings that were grouped about them.
“The trend is upward,” remarked Mr. Lewis. “Imagine how old New York will look fifty years from now, when there may be buildings two hundred stories high!”
“Suppose we go down and see how things look from the street,” suggested Mr. Holton. “Been a long time since we’ve been here.”
The remainder of that day was spent exploring Manhattan Island. They turned in early in the evening, for they were very tired.
“Tomorrow,” said Bob, as he threw himself on the bed, “we’ll see sights for sore eyes.”
And they did. The scene at the dock was one of absorbing interest to all, even as much as the men had witnessed it. Ships from all countries were anchored in dense rows, their crewmen busy loading and unloading cargoes. Boxes and bales were being piled in great stacks, awaiting transfer by motor truck. Passengers and spectators crowded closely around the sections where passenger liners were anchored.
“Here we are,” said Mr. Holton, pointing to a medium-sized ship between two other smaller boats. “The Empire. Looks staunch enough.”
The others agreed and then made their way up the gangplank. A white-clad officer came out to meet them and upon receipt of their tickets directed them to their staterooms.
“Large and comfortable,” commented Bob, as he set down his baggage and looked about.
“All you could ask for,” said Joe, who was to share the room with his chum.
The youths spent several more minutes in examining the articles furnished them for the voyage. Then Bob turned toward the door.
“Let’s go out on deck,” he suggested. “It won’t be long until the ship lifts anchor.”
On deck they found everything in readiness for the voyage, and the scene of action below was interesting to the extreme. Crewmen hurried back and forth with ropes, boxes, bales, and other objects, intent upon a purpose. Visitors scurried off the ship and stood by to witness the leaving.
“Everyone probably wishes he were going with us,” said Bob, as the crowd grudgingly stepped back for the gangplank to be pulled in.
The next instant the long-drawn, deep whistle of the boat sounded, and with the ringing of gongs the engines started. A streak of foam arose between the hull and the dock, and the ship started moving.
“Good-bye, America!” shouted Joe, leaning far out over the rail.
“Yes,” affirmed Mr. Holton. “It’s the last we’ll see of good old New York for many weeks to come.”
Mr. Holton, Mr. Lewis, and Professor Bigelow turned and walked to the other end of the deck. Bob and Joe remained where they were.
Neither of the youths said anything, for they were busy with their thoughts.
Who knew what perils might befall them before they would again see that land they so dearly loved?
CHAPTER VIII
The Beginning of Trouble
BOB and Joe found the ocean voyage very interesting, for it was something new to them. The waves, sea gulls, flying fish, an occasional shark, the painted horizon, and the ship itself all held their undivided attention and made them thrill at the fact that they were living through an experience that only a comparative few had the opportunity of enjoying.
They spent much of their time on deck, enjoying the never-ending charm of the ocean. Thus far the weather had remained peaceable enough, and both boys expressed a desire for it to continue thus. They had never witnessed a hurricane, but had heard from their fathers of how destructive a tropical ocean storm could really be.
“The ship looks strong enough to come through safely,” remarked Joe, as he cast eyes about the deck.
“Yes,” his friend replied. “She’s built on the stoutest possible lines.”
Section by section the youths explored the Empire and were much impressed by everything they saw. They visited the various passenger quarters, the bridge, the enormous kitchens, the hold, and last and most interesting, the engine rooms, where mammoth turbines turned harmoniously and kept the ship at a smooth, even gait. The vessel interested them greatly, and while not built on the enormous proportions of the huge liners that sailed between American and European ports, it was large enough to keep the youths wondering.
“One of the many man-made wonders,” said Bob, as he thought of how complex the engines were.
One of the things that impressed the boys most was the large supply of provisions that were taken along. There were literally tons of food, water, novelties, and other goods stored in great rooms, and every bit was to be used on this one voyage. Artificial refrigeration kept perishable food fresh and wholesome.
Early the next day Bob and Joe showed their first signs of seasickness. They had been standing at the rail watching the rolling of the waves and were growing rather tired when Joe turned about, his face pale and of a yellowish color.
“I think I’ll go to my berth,” he said, his voice unsteady.
“What’s the matter? You – ”
“It came at last,” smiled Mr. Lewis, who had moved up to the youths. “I seldom knew it to fail. Seasickness is almost sure to be felt on the first voyage one takes. Bob, I’m betting that before two hours will have passed you’ll be as bad off as Joe. Of course,” he went on in a tone that he tried to keep serious, “let’s hope you’ll have better luck, but the chances are against you.”
Mr. Lewis’s prophecy proved correct. In fact it was less than one hour later that big Bob, after heroically postponing the dreaded seasickness as long as he possibly could, turned and went to his berth to join his stricken comrade.
“Too bad,” remarked Mr. Holton, closing the door of the stateroom after cautiously peeping in. “Perhaps their next voyage – if they take any more – will be free from unpleasantness.”
Throughout the remainder of that day the boys’ condition remained unchanged. If anything, they were worse off than before, and neither would look at a bite of food of any kind.
“This is terrible,” moaned Joe to his father, the professor, and Mr. Holton, who went in to see how the youths were.
“Cheer up,” Mr. Holton said in lively tones. “You can surely stand a couple of more days.”
He was right. It was two days later when the boys began to show signs of recovery. Then only very slowly did they resume their natural cheerfulness.
“Too bad we had to miss so much,” mourned Bob. “But I’ll admit there wasn’t much to see.”
“Nothing but water,” said Joe and then turned to go into the cabin. As he did so he happened to glance down at the stern and pointed for Bob to follow his gaze.
Leaning against the rail were the boys’ fathers conversing with an elderly bearded man, with a uniform that distinguished him as the ship’s captain. He seemed good-natured and humorous, for occasionally he would cause the men to laugh so hard that they would have to grip the rail to maintain their balance.
“Come over, boys,” Mr. Holton said, glancing up.
They did so.
“This,” he continued, “is Captain Crowell, chief officer of the Empire. Captain, this is Joe Lewis, and this, Bob Holton, the young men we were telling you about. What do you think of them?”
The old officer spent nearly a minute in looking the boys over. Then he turned to the naturalists.
“Spirited-looking chaps,” he grinned. “Look as if they’d like to deprive Brazil of every bit of animal life in it. Better not let them have a rifle. The jaguars will all make for cover.”
“Roasting us, are you?” retorted Bob.
“No. What creature, no matter how fierce, wouldn’t be afraid of two mates who captured a gang of desperate criminals all by themselves? You don’t need to worry about these fellows,” he said to their fathers. “They’ll take care of themselves and you, too, perhaps.”
Bob and Joe took a liking to the old seaman and intended to discuss many problems with him in the future.
“Maybe he can suggest something to do to while the time away,” said Bob the next day, when Captain Crowell was again referred to.
“That reminds me,” the other youth blurted out. “There’s a swimming pool in the second deck. Let’s go up.”
Bob readily agreed, and they were soon floating calmly about.
“We’d better get as much out of this as we can,” remarked Joe. “There won’t be a chance to enjoy this sport in Brazilian waters.”
“No,” put in Bob. “The alligators and piranhas and other dangerous forms won’t give us a chance to even wade.”
The youths were not the only ones to invade the swimming pool, however. As they neared the tropics, and the temperature steadily went up, people from all over the ship enjoyed its cool retreat, the pool becoming almost crowded. It was great fun. Nothing to do but just splash about.
Games also held the boys’ attention. Shuffleboard, quoits, deck tennis, horseshoes, and other activities played an important part in the daily life, and in times when they desired more quiet entertainment, the library, with its scores of books of all types, afforded interesting occupation.
Many leisure hours were spent conversing with Captain Crowell, who always had a humorous tale to tell. On one occasion, when they had been at sea nearly a week, Bob and Joe happened upon him standing at the rail, gazing up at the sky, on his face a worried expression.
“Big storm coming,” he said, after the salutation.
“A storm!” cried Joe and then looked upward.
Sure enough, clouds were banking heavily, and the sun was nowhere in sight. A stiff breeze had arisen, and with this came the smell of rain.
An officer came up and handed a slip of paper to the captain. He read it, and then, with a parting word for Bob and Joe, he turned and went toward the bridge.
The boys looked at each other. Were things going to turn out for the worse? Surely something serious was wrong, or the captain would never have acted in such manner.
“Getting darker,” Bob said, as he noted that the clouds were joining.
“Won’t be long before it’ll rain,” prophesied Joe, and he was correct, for it was less than ten minutes later that a heavy drizzle fell, forcing the chums into the cabin.
There they turned and looked out at the sea, which was rapidly getting higher. The wind was blowing fiercely, its velocity increasing with each minute.
“Well, boys, what do you think of it?”
It was Mr. Holton’s voice. He and his two companions had moved up to the glass, as had a number of other people.
“Suppose you answer that question,” replied Bob. “You’re in a better position to know than we are.”
“I believe we’re in for a bad one,” was the opinion voiced by Professor Bigelow. “But how long it will last is hard to say.”
Mr. Lewis nodded. “Tropical hurricanes are very uncertain,” he said. “Sometimes they last only a few hours, while at other times they keep up for two and three days.”
The boat was now rocking violently, and many people had difficulty in keeping their footing. Bob and Joe took chairs that were fastened securely to the floor. They intended to remain awake all night if the storm did not subside.
But exhaustion was stronger than their intentions, and finally they stumbled to their stateroom, ready for a night’s rest.
“Storm or no storm, I’m going to turn in,” Bob said, and then lost his footing and went sprawling to the floor, with Joe on top of him. The ship had suddenly tilted as she struck a mountainous wave.
“Wow!” cried Joe, gripping a water pipe and righting himself. “Better hold tight from now on or we’re likely to get a bad spill.”
By almost a miracle the youths undressed. Then they tumbled into their berths, to go to sleep at once.
About midnight they were awakened by a shrill, long-drawn whistle, and all the sleep knocked out of them, they were on their feet in an instant wondering what was meant by that unusual sound in the dark of the night.
CHAPTER IX
A Daring Rescue
“WHAT is it?” asked Joe, as he hurriedly slipped on his clothing.
“Beyond me,” Bob answered. “Come on. Let’s go out on deck. We may be able to find out.”
The ship was rocking terribly, and the boys found it difficult to keep their footing. But they finally managed to catch hold of a rail, and from then on it was easier.
Several other passengers were up also, intent upon investigating the strange whistle.
“Maybe the boat’s sinking,” suggested Joe.
Bob shook his head.
“Probably isn’t that. At least let’s hope not.”
With beating hearts the youths came up to the glass and turned to look out at the angry sea. Then their expression changed.
A short distance from the Empire was a small fishing schooner, its prow out of sight in the water. On the stern stood a score or more men, waving their arms frantically. It was evident that they were panic-stricken, for several of them occasionally shouted for help. The little boat tossed about violently on the crest of the mountainous waves, her front deck gradually fading from view. Every minute it seemed that the end would come.
“It’s sinking fast!” cried Joe. “Why don’t some of our crew do something?”
“They are. Look.”
Farther up on the Empire’s deck fifteen or twenty men, under the direction of officers, were busy lowering lifeboats, although it looked out of reason to let them down on that sea.
Suddenly Bob turned and started toward his berth.
“Where you going?” Joe asked.
“To get the motion-picture camera. Here’ll be a good chance to take some pictures. There’s plenty of light around here.”
The next moment he was gone, and Joe turned to the deck.
The roar of the storm was deafening, and the wind howled ruefully through the funnels and masts. It was as though the end of the world were coming.
In less than five minutes two lifeboats were lowered, four or five men in each one. Then slowly they made their way toward the doomed schooner.
Bob now returned with the movie camera and cranked away, delighted to get an opportunity to film such an unusual happening.
The boys, however, were not the only ones to watch the daring attempt at rescue. In fact the glass was now crowded with people, and Mr. Holton, Mr. Lewis, and Professor Bigelow came up and wormed their way to their companions.
“Most thrilling thing I ever saw!” exclaimed Mr. Holton, as he breathlessly directed his gaze at the puny boats, which wallowed heavily and threatened to be swamped at every moment.
On and on went the rescue boats, their occupants bailing furiously. Now and then they threatened to capsize but always righted themselves.
In what seemed to be a long period of suspense to the spectators, the Empire’s crew reached the fishing schooner, which was now far under water.
One by one the fishermen climbed into the lifeboats, although it was necessary to give sharp commands to prevent disorder.
When the last of the men from the doomed boat stepped into the lifeboats, the officer in charge gave the word, and they started back to the Empire.
The return trip threatened to be more perilous, for the boats were very low in the water with the added load. Hurriedly the oarsmen set to work, so that they might be a good distance from the schooner when it sank, for a whirlpool would be created, meaning certain disaster to all around it.
Once a giant wave passed over the little boats and they disappeared from view, amid gasps from the spectators. But the danger was soon over, and the lifeboats emerged unharmed, the crewmen bailing rapidly.
They were barely at the Empire’s side when the schooner sank. With a last look at the scene of disaster, the fishermen boarded the ship. They were water-soaked and shivering with cold, but were too glad that they had been saved from the hungry depths of the sea to make any complaints.
“They’re Portuguese,” observed Professor Bigelow, as the fishermen came nearer.
The men muttered several words of thanks to the Empire’s crew, but it was clear that few understood them. Professor Bigelow, however, picked up the meaning at once and translated to his companions. Mr. Holton and Mr. Lewis had a slight knowledge of that language, but could not keep up with the excited men.
“The captain says it’s too bad they had to lose the schooner,” Professor Bigelow said. “He said they did their best to save it from going down, but had to give up. They did not intend to be this far at sea, but the storm gave them no chance of turning back.”
In a short time the excitement was over, and most of the passengers again retired, for the next morning they were to sight the West Indies.
Bob was overjoyed at the success he had had in taking the movies of the rescue and knew they would be a hit with the Neuman Film Corporation. They were the first of any importance that had been taken on the ship, and, as Joe said, a little action now and then does a lot to liven up a thing.
The next morning the storm had completely subsided, and true to schedule the Empire sighted Porto Rico. There was a scramble of passengers who had reached their destination.
“Probably think they’ll be carried on,” smiled Bob, as a rather nervous man fled down the stairs.
At first the shoreline was so dim as to be hardly distinguishable from the low clouds, but it gradually grew more plain. At last trees and houses could be made out, and then the skyline of San Juan loomed up in the distance.
“Looks like a city,” remarked Joe.
“It is,” his father replied. “Has over eighty-five thousand inhabitants.”
“Will we have time to go ashore?” asked Bob.
“Yes. The ship remains in port for about three hours,” Mr. Holton answered.
As the Empire approached the city, she backed her engines and moved slowly into port, where a small crowd of people were massed to give greeting.
Several other boats, large and small, were anchored at the busy docks, and the Empire steamed in between two freighters, one of which was being loaded with sugar.
“Sugar is one of the principal exports,” explained Professor Bigelow, as the exploration party prepared to leave the ship on a tour of the city.
As soon as they were in port, the gangplank was lowered. The adventurers made their way down, among a score of other passengers, many of whom were to leave the ship here.
Bob and Joe were at once impressed by the native residents, for there was a great variety of races. Spaniards were the most numerous, but there were also Negroes, mulattoes, French, Americans, and a small sprinkling of Indians.
“Quite a variety,” commented Joe. “Though it is possible to see this very thing in parts of New York.”
The explorers found that it would be comparatively easy to walk to various places of interest, and, after passing the former governor-general’s palace, they resolved to take in as much of the city as they could in two hours.
They found that the city was built on Morro Island, although the mainland could be easily reached by the numerous bridges. The streets were regularly laid out, and in the white quarters the residences were rather attractive.
“Doesn’t look much like America, though,” said Joe.
The exploration party reached the Empire with thirty minutes to spare, and they took chairs on deck to watch the busy dock below.
All too soon the whistle of leaving blew, and visitors scrambled down the gangplank. Then, with one long blast the ship slowly steamed out to sea, leaving Porto Rico behind.
At last they were on the final stretch. There would be no more stops till they reached South America. Then only short stays at Paramaribo and Cayenne, which were important seaport cities about two hundred miles apart.
“How long will it be until we again see land?” asked Bob, as he and the others sat on deck.
“Two days,” replied his father. “No doubt that they’ll seem like a long time, too.”
And they did. Bob and Joe were no more vexed than the others, however, for the men were also anxious to get started into the unknown. But when at last they did sight South America they forgot the past and looked into the future.
The boys, with their cameras in hand, were the first to reach the prow. They were closely followed by their fathers and the professor, who also crowded in for a first view.
At first, land was only a speck far out on the horizon. Then only gradually did it take on form and color.
“We’re nearing Paramaribo,” pronounced Mr. Holton, as he made out the outline of the city.
“What country is it in?” asked Joe.
“Dutch Guiana,” the professor answered. “One of the smallest nations in South America.”
The Empire steamed into a port nearly as busy as that of San Juan, although most of the boats were small.
For a second time the gangplank was lowered, and as the explorers had a half-hour to spare, they started on a short walking trip of the city.
“Quite a bit different from San Juan,” said Bob, as he noted that many of the people were native Indians.
The others nodded. None of them had been here before, and they naturally took a great interest in these unusual surroundings. In fact Professor Bigelow was the only one who had ever seen South America before, but this did not lessen his enthusiasm.
The streets were, for the most part, narrow and straight, cutting one another at right angles. The party was surprised to find the houses extremely low, hardly any of them exceeding two stories. Some were built of brick, but most were of cane plastered with mud.
Several minutes were spent in rambling over the various quarters of the city. Then they went back to the ship, which was now nearly ready to sail.
“South America is all right to visit,” remarked Joe, “but I don’t think I’d care to live here.”
The others agreed with him.
“And yet,” said Professor Bigelow, “there are a number of cities that are very well developed. Take Rio de Janeiro and Buenos Aires, for instance. They are large, clean, and well kept. A street in Buenos Aires looks very much like a street in the United States.”
Soon the Empire was off, having unloaded a large cargo of American goods. Several passengers also took their leave here.
From then on the scientific party was restless and eager to get started into the unknown. As one nears his goal, he nearly always finds it hard to wait through the last few stretches. Bob and Joe especially were excited, for it was their first adventure. Their hearts throbbed as they eagerly anticipated the coming days.
That evening they arrived in Cayenne, the capital of French Guiana, and, as before, took a short trip about the city. It was much the same as Paramaribo, however, and they were glad to board the Empire again for the last leg of the long journey.
It was about six hundred miles to Macapá, the Empire’s destination, and the party settled back in anticipation.
Neither of the boys did anything of importance. They were too enthusiastic over the coming great adventure.
“Let’s take it easy on deck,” suggested Bob, and they arranged chairs for all of the party that cared to rest.
“There’s nothing like enjoying the spell of the ocean,” remarked Mr. Holton.
A few days later Captain Crowell announced that they were sailing up the mighty Amazon, and the explorers were thrilled to the bone. The Amazon! At last one of their strongest ambitions had been fulfilled. Bob and Joe were overjoyous, for they had had a strong desire to see this great water system.
“Doesn’t look like a river to me,” said Joe as he tried in vain to see the shore.
“Over a hundred miles wide at the delta,” said Bob. “It’s the greatest river system in the world.”
For several hours they steamed on up the great river, past small settlements, plantations, and green islands. Occasionally they would get a glimpse of beautiful wild vegetation, and their hearts would beat fast. Then, almost without knowing it, they came to Macapá.
There was a fairly good port, and the vessel took her place between two small river steamers. The long ocean voyage had come to an end.
