The Land That Time Forgot
And then I let my eyes drop once more to the face upon the water, and what I
saw nearly tumbled me backward into the sea, for the eyes in the dead face had
opened; the lips had parted; and one hand was raised toward me in a mute appeal
for succor. She lived! She was not dead! I leaned over the boat’s side and drew
her quickly in to the comparative safety which God had given me. I removed her
life-belt and my soggy coat and made a pillow for her head. I chafed her hands
and arms and feet. I worked over her for an hour, and at last I was rewarded by
a deep sigh, and again those great eyes opened and looked into mine.
At that I was all embarrassment. I have never been a ladies’ man; at
Leland-Stanford I was the butt of the class because of my hopeless imbecility
in the presence of a pretty girl; but the men liked me, nevertheless. I was
rubbing one of her hands when she opened her eyes, and I dropped it as though
it were a red-hot rivet. Those eyes took me in slowly from head to foot; then
they wandered slowly around the horizon marked by the rising and falling
gunwales of the lifeboat. They looked at Nobs and softened, and then came back
to me filled with questioning.
“I—I—” I stammered, moving away and stumbling over the next thwart. The vision
smiled wanly.
“Aye-aye, sir!” she replied faintly, and again her lips drooped, and her long
lashes swept the firm, fair texture of her skin.
“I hope that you are feeling better,” I finally managed to say.
“Do you know,” she said after a moment of silence, “I have been awake for a
long time! But I did not dare open my eyes. I thought I must be dead, and I was
afraid to look, for fear that I should see nothing but blackness about me. I am
afraid to die! Tell me what happened after the ship went down. I remember all
that happened before—oh, but I wish that I might forget it!” A sob broke her
voice. “The beasts!” she went on after a moment. “And to think that I was to
have married one of them—a lieutenant in the German navy.”
Presently she resumed as though she had not ceased speaking. “I went down and
down and down. I thought I should never cease to sink. I felt no particular
distress until I suddenly started upward at ever-increasing velocity; then my
lungs seemed about to burst, and I must have lost consciousness, for I remember
nothing more until I opened my eyes after listening to a torrent of invective
against Germany and Germans. Tell me, please, all that happened after the ship
sank.”
I told her, then, as well as I could, all that I had seen—the submarine
shelling the open boats and all the rest of it. She thought it marvelous that
we should have been spared in so providential a manner, and I had a pretty
speech upon my tongue’s end, but lacked the nerve to deliver it. Nobs had come
over and nosed his muzzle into her lap, and she stroked his ugly face, and at
last she leaned over and put her cheek against his forehead. I have always
admired Nobs; but this was the first time that it had ever occurred to me that
I might wish to be Nobs. I wondered how he would take it, for he is as unused
to women as I. But he took to it as a duck takes to water. What I lack of being
a ladies’ man, Nobs certainly makes up for as a ladies’ dog. The old scalawag
just closed his eyes and put on one of the softest
“sugar-wouldn’t-melt-in-my-mouth” expressions you ever saw and stood there
taking it and asking for more. It made me jealous.
“You seem fond of dogs,” I said.
“I am fond of this dog,” she replied.
Whether she meant anything personal in that reply I did not know; but I took it
as personal and it made me feel mighty good.
As we drifted about upon that vast expanse of loneliness it is not strange that
we should quickly become well acquainted. Constantly we scanned the horizon for
signs of smoke, venturing guesses as to our chances of rescue; but darkness
settled, and the black night enveloped us without ever the sight of a speck
upon the waters.
We were thirsty, hungry, uncomfortable, and cold. Our wet garments had dried
but little and I knew that the girl must be in grave danger from the exposure
to a night of cold and wet upon the water in an open boat, without sufficient
clothing and no food. I had managed to bail all the water out of the boat with
cupped hands, ending by mopping the balance up with my handkerchief—a slow and
back-breaking procedure; thus I had made a comparatively dry place for the girl
to lie down low in the bottom of the boat, where the sides would protect her
from the night wind, and when at last she did so, almost overcome as she was by
weakness and fatigue, I threw my wet coat over her further to thwart the chill.
But it was of no avail; as I sat watching her, the moonlight marking out the
graceful curves of her slender young body, I saw her shiver.
“Isn’t there something I can do?” I asked. “You can’t lie there chilled through
all night. Can’t you suggest something?”
She shook her head. “We must grin and bear it,” she replied after a moment.
Nobbler came and lay down on the thwart beside me, his back against my leg, and
I sat staring in dumb misery at the girl, knowing in my heart of hearts that
she might die before morning came, for what with the shock and exposure, she
had already gone through enough to kill almost any woman. And as I gazed down
at her, so small and delicate and helpless, there was born slowly within my
breast a new emotion. It had never been there before; now it will never cease
to be there. It made me almost frantic in my desire to find some way to keep
warm the cooling lifeblood in her veins. I was cold myself, though I had almost
forgotten it until Nobbler moved and I felt a new sensation of cold along my
leg against which he had lain, and suddenly realized that in that one spot I
had been warm. Like a great light came the understanding of a means to warm the
girl. Immediately I knelt beside her to put my scheme into practice when
suddenly I was overwhelmed with embarrassment. Would she permit it, even if I
could muster the courage to suggest it? Then I saw her frame convulse,
shudderingly, her muscles reacting to her rapidly lowering temperature, and
casting prudery to the winds, I threw myself down beside her and took her in my
arms, pressing her body close to mine.
She drew away suddenly, voicing a little cry of fright, and tried to push me
from her.
“Forgive me,” I managed to stammer. “It is the only way. You will die of
exposure if you are not warmed, and Nobs and I are the only means we can
command for furnishing warmth.” And I held her tightly while I called Nobs and
bade him lie down at her back. The girl didn’t struggle any more when she
learned my purpose; but she gave two or three little gasps, and then began to
cry softly, burying her face on my arm, and thus she fell asleep.
Chapter 2
Toward morning, I must have dozed, though it seemed to me at the time that I
had lain awake for days, instead of hours. When I finally opened my eyes, it
was daylight, and the girl’s hair was in my face, and she was breathing
normally. I thanked God for that. She had turned her head during the night so
that as I opened my eyes I saw her face not an inch from mine, my lips almost
touching hers.
It was Nobs who finally awoke her. He got up, stretched, turned around a few
times and lay down again, and the girl opened her eyes and looked into mine.
Hers went very wide at first, and then slowly comprehension came to her, and
she smiled.
“You have been very good to me,” she said, as I helped her to rise, though if
the truth were known I was more in need of assistance than she; the circulation
all along my left side seeming to be paralyzed entirely. “You have been very
good to me.” And that was the only mention she ever made of it; yet I know that
she was thankful and that only reserve prevented her from referring to what, to
say the least, was an embarrassing situation, however unavoidable.
Shortly after daylight we saw smoke apparently coming straight toward us, and
after a time we made out the squat lines of a tug—one of those fearless
exponents of England’s supremacy of the sea that tows sailing ships into French
and English ports. I stood up on a thwart and waved my soggy coat above my
head. Nobs stood upon another and barked. The girl sat at my feet straining her
eyes toward the deck of the oncoming boat. “They see us,” she said at last.
“There is a man answering your signal.” She was right. A lump came into my
throat—for her sake rather than for mine. She was saved, and none too soon. She
could not have lived through another night upon the Channel; she might not have
lived through the coming day.
The tug came close beside us, and a man on deck threw us a rope. Willing hands
dragged us to the deck, Nobs scrambling nimbly aboard without assistance. The
rough men were gentle as mothers with the girl. Plying us both with questions
they hustled her to the captain’s cabin and me to the boiler-room. They told
the girl to take off her wet clothes and throw them outside the door that they
might be dried, and then to slip into the captain’s bunk and get warm. They
didn’t have to tell me to strip after I once got into the warmth of the
boiler-room. In a jiffy, my clothes hung about where they might dry most
quickly, and I myself was absorbing, through every pore, the welcome heat of
the stifling compartment. They brought us hot soup and coffee, and then those
who were not on duty sat around and helped me damn the Kaiser and his brood.
As soon as our clothes were dry, they bade us don them, as the chances were
always more than fair in those waters that we should run into trouble with the
enemy, as I was only too well aware. What with the warmth and the feeling of
safety for the girl, and the knowledge that a little rest and food would
quickly overcome the effects of her experiences of the past dismal hours, I was
feeling more content than I had experienced since those three whistle-blasts
had shattered the peace of my world the previous afternoon.
But peace upon the Channel has been but a transitory thing since August, 1914.
It proved itself such that morning, for I had scarce gotten into my dry clothes
and taken the girl’s apparel to the captain’s cabin when an order was shouted
down into the engine-room for full speed ahead, and an instant later I heard
the dull boom of a gun. In a moment I was up on deck to see an enemy submarine
about two hundred yards off our port bow. She had signaled us to stop, and our
skipper had ignored the order; but now she had her gun trained on us, and the
second shot grazed the cabin, warning the belligerent tug-captain that it was
time to obey. Once again an order went down to the engine-room, and the tug
reduced speed. The U-boat ceased firing and ordered the tug to come about and
approach. Our momentum had carried us a little beyond the enemy craft, but we
were turning now on the arc of a circle that would bring us alongside her. As I
stood watching the maneuver and wondering what was to become of us, I felt
something touch my elbow and turned to see the girl standing at my side. She
looked up into my face with a rueful expression. “They seem bent on our
destruction,” she said, “and it looks like the same boat that sunk us
yesterday.”
“It is,” I replied. “I know her well. I helped design her and took her out on
her first run.”
The girl drew back from me with a little exclamation of surprise and
disappointment. “I thought you were an American,” she said. “I had no idea you
were a—a—”
“Nor am I,” I replied. “Americans have been building submarines for all nations
for many years. I wish, though, that we had gone bankrupt, my father and I,
before ever we turned out that _Frankenstein_ of a thing.”