"Let's hope they got away," said the third officer, "but that devil's concert on board beats me. It's not human, that's one sure thing. What in blazes is it?"
"It gives me the shivers," confessed Bill.
The noise grew positively deafening as they got closer. The intense heat of the blaze and the shower of falling embers that enveloped them added to their discomfort.
"Row toward the bow," roared Mr. Smallwood, cupping his hands, "or we'll have the boats afire next."
Already several of the seamen had hastily extinguished portions of their clothing that had caught, and burns on hands and faces were plentiful. But as they pulled toward the blazing craft's bow, this annoyance was avoided, the wind blowing the heat and embers from them.
All at once, as they swung upward on the crest of an immense comber, Jack uttered a shout:
"What do you mean?" demanded Mr. Smallwood.
"The mystery of that horrible noise. That's a cattle ship yonder, and the poor beasts are mad with fear."
The next wave gave them a clear view of tossing horns and heads as the unfortunate cattle, penned on the burning craft, rushed madly about the decks, in vain seeking some means of relief. It was a piteous sight, for there was no way of saving them from being burned alive unless the ship sank first.
"Oh, but that's awful!" gasped Jack, with a shudder.
"Look, look up on the bow!" cried Bill suddenly. "There's a man. He's seen us."
"He's waving," cried Mr. Smallwood. "Hurrah! Give way, men! There's a poor beggar roasting on that ship."
But the boat's crew needed no urging. In the lee of the burning cattle ship the water was smoother and they could make better time. Silhouetted against the glare, too, every man of them could see, by a twist of his head, that solitary marooned figure on the bow of the fire ship.
As the first boat,--Mr. Smallwood's,--ranged in alongside the high steel prow, Jack's quick eye caught sight of a rope dangling from the great steel anchor chains. By what impulse he did it he could not have explained, but as the boat ranged close alongside he poised for an instant on the heaving gunwale and then launched his body forward into space.
"Come back, boy!" shouted Mr. Smallwood. But by the time the words had left his mouth, Jack was scrambling up the rope amidst the cheers of the men in the tossing boats now far below him. It was the work of a few moments only to gain the anchor chain, and to climb up them was, for a lad of Jack's brawn and activity, an easy task.
