ship.
"This would be real jolly," said Tom, "if it wasn't that the folks at home must be worried," and then he began to sing, for he really could not be sad:
"A life on the ocean wave,
A home on the rolling deep,
A house in a watery cave —
Where I might rest in sleep!"
"Did you ever hear such a song?" cried Nellie, and Tom went on:
"The boy stood on the burning deck,
Munching apples by the peck;
The captain yelled, he stood stock-still,
For of those apples he wanted his fill!"
"Tom Rover!" burst out Dora. "I believe you would sing at your own funeral!" And Tom continued gayly:
"Sailing, sailing, over the bounding main,
For many a stormy wind shall blow,
Ere the Rovers get home again!"
"Tom lives on songs," said Sam slyly. "He'd rather sing than eat a pie."
"Pie!" thundered Tom tragically. "Who said pie? I haven't seen a home-made pie since — since —— "
"The time you went down in the pantry at midnight and ate two," finished Dick, and then there was a burst of laughter.
"Never mind, Tom, I'll make you half a dozen pies — when we get home," came from Nellie.
"Will you really?" said Tom, and then he began once more, as gayly as ever:
"You can give me pudding
And give me cake,
And anything else
You care to bake;
But if you wish
To charm my eye,
Just hand me over
Some home-made pie!"
"That's all right," said Dick. "But in place of eye you should have said stomach."
"Stomach doesn't rhyme with pie," snorted Tom. "I'm a true poet and I know what I am doing."
"Talking about pie makes me think of pie-plates," said Sam. "Let us play spinning the plate on deck. It will be lots of fun trying to catch the plate while it is spinning and the steamer is rolling."
"Good!" cried Grace, and ran to get a plate from the cook's galley. Soon they were playing merrily, and the game served to make an hour pass pleasantly. When the forfeits had to be redeemed, the girls made the boys do several ridiculous things. Tom had to hop from one end of the deck to the other on one foot, Sam had to stand on his head, and recite "Mary had a Little Lamb," and Dick had to go to three of the sailors and ask each if they would tie the ship to a post during the night.
"I'll wager you are a merry crowd on land," said Captain Fairleigh, as he paused to watch the fun. "Takes me back to the time when I was a boy," and he laughed heartily. Even the captain's wife was amused. She was particularly fond of music, and loved to listen to the playing and singing.
The days slipped by one after the other, until Captain Fairleigh announced that forty-eight hours more ought to bring them in sight of Diamond Head, a high hill at the entrance to Honolulu harbor.
But another storm was at hand, and that night the wind blew more fiercely than ever. The Tacoma tossed and pitched to such a degree that standing on the deck was next to impossible, and all of the boys and the girls gathered in the cabin and held fast to the posts and the stationary seats.
"It feels as if the steamer would roll clear over," said Sam. "Here we go again!"
There was thunder and lightning, and soon a deluge of rain, fully as heavy as that experienced while on board of the ill-fated Old Glory. This continued all of the night, and in the morning the storm seemed to grow worse instead of better.
"We are in a run of bad luck," said Dick. "I really believe we will have all sorts of trouble before we get back to the United States."
Toward noon a mist came up, and it grew dark. Lanterns were lit, and the Tacoma felt her way along carefully, for Captain Fairleigh knew that they were now in the track of considerable shipping.
By nightfall the steamer lay almost at a stand still, for the mist was thicker than ever. For safety the whistle was sounded at short intervals.
The girls were the first to retire, and the boys followed half an hour later. The staterooms of all were close together.
Dick Rover was the last to go to sleep. How long he slept he did not know.
He awoke with a start. A shock had thrown him to the floor of the stateroom, and down came Sam on top of him. There were hoarse cries from the deck, a shrill steam whistle, and the sound of a fog horn, and then a grinding thud and a bump that told the Tacoma had either run into some other ship or into the rocks.
CHAPTER VIII
FROM ONE SHIP TO ANOTHER
"We struck something!"
"What is the matter?"
"Are we going down?"
These and a score of other cries rang out on board the steamer. The thumping and bumping continued, followed by a crashing that could mean but one thing — that the ship was being splintered, and that her seams were being laid wide open.
As soon as possible the Rover boys slipped into some clothing and went on deck. They were quickly followed by the three girls, who clung tight to them in terror.
"Oh, Dick, this is the worst yet!" came from Dora. "What will be the end?"
"The Tacoma is sinking!" was the cry from out of the darkness.
"Are we really sinking?" gasped Nellie as she clutched Tom.
"Yes, we are," came from Sam. "Can't you feel the deck settling?"
They could, only too plainly, and in a minute more the water seemed to be running all around them. The cries continued, but it was so black they could see next to nothing.
What happened in the next few minutes the Rover boys could scarcely tell, afterward. An effort was made to get out a lifeboat, and it disappeared almost as soon as it left the side, carrying some sailors with it.
Then some red-fire blazed up, lighting up the tragic scene, and revealing a schooner standing close by the steamer. The sailing vessel had her bowsprit broken and part of her forward rail torn away.
"If we must die, let us die together!"
