Page:The Cannery Boat.pdf/29

Rh with the ceaseless sinister whistling of the distress signal. The wind was blowing; the whistle sounded first far away and then just above their heads, and then again as if shut off from them by a great iron door.

“Jii—jii—i!” A spark, trailing a long tail, flashed out, and then all sound stopped completely. At that instant everyone’s heart gave a leap. The operator fingered the switch and adjusted the apparatus but with no result. Not another tap. He twisted around in his chair.

“Sunk!”

Taking off the head-piece, he continued in a low voice, “A crew of 425. The end has come. No hope of being saved. S.O.S.! S.O.S.! It was repeated two or three times and then nothing more.”

When he heard this, the captain had stretched his neck and shook his head as if he had difficulty in breathing. He cast a vacant glance around him and then turned towards the door. He began fingering the knot of his tie. He was a pitiful sight.

The cabin-boy finished his story.

A gloominess came over the student and he gazed at the sea, which was still heaving with a heavy swell. One instant the horizon would appear right beneath them, while a minute later they were looking up at the narrow strip of the sky from a deep valley.

“I suppose it’s really sunk,” the student murmured to himself. It troubled him sorely. The thought came to him that they too were in a similar old tub.