Essential Cosmic Perspective 8th Edition Bennett Solutions Manual

Essential Cosmic Perspective 8th

Edition Bennett Solutions Manual
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Essential Cosmic Perspective 8th Edition Bennett Solutions Manual

54 Bennett, Donahue, Schneider, Voit

Part II: Key Concepts for Astronomy

Copyright © 2018 Pearson Education, Inc.

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 Instructor Guide for The Essential Cosmic Perspective, Eighth Edition 55

Chapter 4. Making Sense of the Universe:

Understanding Motion, Energy, and Gravity
This chapter focuses on three major ideas and their astronomical applications:
(1) Newton’s laws of motion, (2) the laws of conservation of energy and angular
momentum, and (3) the law of gravity.
As always, when you prepare to teach this chapter, be sure you are familiar
with the online quizzes, interactive figures and tutorials, assignable homework,
and other resources available on the MasteringAstronomy website
(www.masteringastronomy.com).

Key Changes for the 8th Edition: We have left the basic organization and
content of this chapter unchanged from the prior edition. However, we have
made numerous edits throughout the chapter to improve clarity for students.

Teaching Notes (by Section)

Section 4.1 Describing Motion: Examples from Daily Life
Most nonscience majors are unfamiliar with the basic terminology of motion. For
example, few students enter our astronomy classes with an understanding of why
acceleration is measured in units of length over time squared, of the definitions of
force and momentum, or of how mass and weight differ. This section introduces
all of these ideas in the context of very concrete examples that should be familiar
from everyday life.
• Classroom demonstrations can be particularly helpful in this and the next
section; for example, demonstrate that all objects accelerate the same
under gravity or use an air track to show conservation of momentum.
• Note that, aside from a footnote, we neglect the distinction between
weight (or “true weight”) and apparent weight. The former is often defined
in physics texts as mg, whereas the latter also includes the effects of other
accelerations (such as the acceleration due to Earth’s rotation or the
acceleration in an elevator). While this distinction is sometimes useful in
setting up physics problems, it can become very confusing in astronomy,
where, for example, it is difficult to decide how to define “true weight”
for objects located between Earth and the Moon.
• Also note that, in stating that astronauts in orbit are weightless, we are
neglecting the tiny accelerations, including those due to tidal forces, that
affect objects in orbiting spacecraft. Because of these small accelerations,
NASA and many space scientists have taken to referring to the conditions
in orbiting spacecraft as microgravity, rather than weightlessness. In our
opinion, the term microgravity is a poor one to use with students and tends
to feed the common misconception that gravity is absent in space—when,
in fact, the acceleration of gravity is only a few percentage points smaller
in low-Earth orbit than on the ground. Perhaps a better term for the

Copyright © 2018 Pearson Education, Inc.

56 Bennett, Donahue, Schneider, Voit

conditions in orbit would be microacceleration, but we think it is

pedagogically more useful to simply neglect the small accelerations and
refer to the conditions as weightlessness due to free fall. If you want to be
truly accurate, you might refer to the conditions as near-weightlessness
and explain why small accelerations still are present.

Section 4.2 Newton’s Laws of Motion

Having described the terminology of motion, we next discuss Newton’s laws of
motion. This discussion should solidify students’ grasp of how their everyday
experiences reflect Newtonian physics.

Section 4.3 Conservation Laws in Astronomy

This section covers conservation of angular momentum and conservation of
energy and includes a discussion of the various forms of energy.
• When introducing angular momentum, you may wish to demonstrate
conservation of angular momentum using a bicycle wheel and a rotating
platform.
• Note that we discuss conservation of energy in a modern sense, with mass-
energy included as a form of potential energy.
• Note that we do not introduce a formula for gravitational potential energy.
This is because the general formula would look too complex at this point
(coming before the law of gravity) and the formula mgh (which will be
familiar to some of your students) is a special case that applies only on the
surface of Earth. However, you may wish to mention the formula mgh in
class, particularly if your students are already familiar with it.

Section 4.4 The Force of Gravity

The pieces now are all in place to introduce Newton’s universal law of gravitation
and use it to explain fundamental ideas in astronomy, including the reasons for
Kepler’s laws, orbital energy and changes, escape velocity, and tides.
• Note that, as in Chapter 1, we are using average distance to mean a
semimajor axis distance.
• Also note that, while we mention parabolas and hyperbolas as allowed
orbital paths, the term introduced to include both these cases is unbound
orbits. Similarly, we refer to elliptical orbits as bound orbits. We find that
the terms bound and unbound are far more intuitive for students than
precise mathematical shapes.
• Note our emphasis on the idea that orbits cannot change spontaneously—
they can change only if there is an exchange of orbital energy. We have
found that this is a very important point that students often fail to grasp
unless it is made very explicitly. We encourage you to keep reminding
them of this point throughout your course whenever you are explaining
gravitational capture of any kind—from an asteroid being captured by a
planet, to the gravitational collapse of a cloud of gas into a star, to the
infall of material into an accretion disk.

Copyright © 2018 Pearson Education, Inc.

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upon him, and his breath grew short while heavy beads of
perspiration stood out on his brow.
“Cleaned out!” he muttered. “Cleaned out, just as I was cleaned out
by Dan Market! Oh, what a fool I’ve been!” And tears of rage filled
his eyes, while he pounded his fist on the top of a barrel. Then he
leaped up and shook the fist in the air.
“But he shan’t get the best of me! I’ll make him square up if I have to
go to the police and tell everybody! He shan’t get the best of me!”
His hat had rolled to the floor, and putting it on he hurried to the
warehouse door, which was unlocked. Beyond was a dock extending
to the waterfront and close at hand was a road leading to the city,
four miles away. A cart was passing and he hailed the driver. By
signs and a few words of broken Spanish he let the cart driver know
he wanted to get to Ponce as soon as possible and the native made
room for him on the rough seat.
The drive in the early morning air did Hockley good, and by the time
the cart rattled along on the uneven pavements of the city the lank
youth felt somewhat like himself. At a public fountain he left the
native and got a drink. Possibly the native expected pay for his
service, but if so he was disappointed, and he drove on looking as if
such were his feeling.
Now that he felt a little better Hockley sat down in one of the city
parks to review the situation. It was all well enough to go after J.
Rutherford Brown and have him arrested, but what would Professor
Strong say to the whole proceedings?
“Hang the professor!” he exclaimed, and gave the park bench a
savage kick with his foot. “I’m going to have satisfaction. I’m going to
catch that fellow and make him give up my money and things if I die
for it!”
Leaving the park he espied an American, and from this man received
directions which speedily took him to the café where he had first met
J. Rutherford Brown. Going inside, he asked for the man.
“Haven’t seen him this morning,” replied the keeper of the resort.
“Do you know where he lives?” went on Hockley. “It’s a matter of
importance to him,” he went on, shrewdly.
“He has a room at the Snug Corner, I believe.”
“Where is that?”
“Three squares up the street, on the corner.”
Waiting to hear no more, Hockley strode out and up the street in the
direction indicated. It was now ten o’clock, and he had had no
breakfast, but just then he had no thought of eating.
Walking into the corridor of the hotel he glanced around. Only a few
people were present. Then he glanced into the smoking and reading
room.
His heart gave a bound. J. Rutherford Brown was there, smoking
contentedly. He had his feet cocked up on a table and was reading a
newspaper.
Going up to the man from Montana, Hockley tore the newspaper
from his grasp.
“You villain, you!” he cried, wrathfully. “You swindled me!”
 CHAPTER XXIII
THE BULLY IS HUMBLED

Many a man would have been startled by such a direct accusation,

but J. Rutherford Brown had been in a similar position before and
was not to be scared thus easily. He turned slowly, put his feet on the
floor and gazed coldly at Hockley.
“Young man, you are mistaken,” he said. “And if you dare to repeat
your words you will be sorry.”
“But I say—” went on the youth, and then the look in the eyes of the
man made him pause. It was a merciless, crafty face that peered into
his own and it made Hockley shiver in spite of himself.
“We had several fair and square games of cards,” went on the man
from Montana. “And you lost your money. Don’t be a calf to cry over
it. If you are in hard luck say so, and I’ll—well, I’ll lend you ten
dollars.”
As he concluded J. Rutherford Brown calmly took from his hip pocket
a big roll of bills—a large portion of them Hockley’s bills—and drew
forth one of the denomination mentioned.
“Do you want this?” he asked, extending the bill between the tips of
his fingers.
“Ye—yes,” stammered the youth, and took it. “But—but——”
“I don’t want to talk over the affair of yesterday,” interrupted the man.
“If you will remember, I lost something before the luck turned. If you
had quit the game then, I should not have squealed. Besides that, I
took you away, so that you would not get into trouble while you slept.
I spent ten dollars for carriage fare, but we will let that pass.”
Having thus delivered himself, J. Rutherford Brown hoisted his feet
to the table once more and resumed the reading of his newspaper.
Hockley looked at him in amazement not unmixed with
consternation. He had never before met such a fellow as this. He did
not know how to proceed, and walked away revolving the situation in
his mind.
The more he thought it over, the more Hockley became convinced
that he could do little or nothing. Of course, if it came to the pinch, J.
Rutherford Brown would deny everything, and as there were no
witnesses to what had occurred, legal proof would be hard to obtain.
“I’ve been a chump,” he muttered as he walked out of the hotel. “A
downright chump.”
As there seemed nothing else to do, he turned his footsteps in the
direction of the hotel at which the professor and the other boys were
stopping. His heart felt like lead in his bosom and he could not for
the life of him conjure up what to say. He knew that excuses would
be unavailing, that Professor Strong would insist upon making a rigid
investigation.
As he turned a corner leading to the hotel he came face to face with
Professor Strong, who was walking with another man, a native hired
to show the party the sights.
“Jacob Hockley,” cried the professor. “Where have you been? We
have been hunting everywhere for you.”
“It’s a long story, sir,” answered Hockley, meekly. “And if you please,
I’d like to get breakfast before I tell it.”
“So you have had nothing to eat? Then come to the hotel by all
means. But where have you been?”
“Out of town, a good many miles, I guess.”
“Out of town?”
“Yes, sir. And I’ve lost the most of my money,” went on the lank
youth, desperately.
“How did you lose that?” And now Professor Strong’s face grew
stern.
Hockley felt a certain quaking within him. It would never do to say
that he had been playing cards—worse, that he had been gambling.
Professor Strong had read the young travelers more than one lecture
on evils of this sort.
“I—I got in a crowd and somehow I either lost the money or it was
taken from me,” stammered the bully. “But please don’t tell the
others,” he went on. “They’ll only have the laugh on me.”
“Just give me the details,” said Professor Strong, briefly, and then
Hockley had to invent a long tale of how he had gone carriage riding
down to the seashore and how, while he was getting a lunch at a
restaurant, there had been a horse runaway and he had gone out to
see the excitement.
“There was more of a crowd than I thought,” he continued. “I was
shoved around by a policeman and a number of natives. I had been
counting my money and when the excitement began I rammed it in
my hip pocket. When I went back to the eating place the money was
gone.”
“And what made you remain away all night?”
“It was growing dark when the runaway happened and I thought I
could find the money this morning. But I didn’t find anything.”
“Humph! How about your watch and that ring you are in the habit of
wearing?”
Hockley felt a certain cold chill steal over him. In his haste to smooth
matters over he had forgotten about the watch and the ring.
“They—er—they got lost too,” he said, lamely, his face growing very
red.
“Quite likely,” was Professor Strong’s comment. “Come with me. We
will get to the bottom of this later on—after you have had something
to eat.”
Hockley was hungry, but eating breakfast came very hard to him that
morning. As soon as he had finished Professor Strong plied him with
questions, and at last he broke down and confessed all—how he had
received the money order from home and how he had started out to
have a little quiet fun, as he called it. And then, when the professor
insisted that he take him to the spot where the runaway had
occurred, he had to admit that there had been no runaway but that
he had fallen into the hands of a sharper, and that the sharper now
had all the money excepting ten dollars and the amount spent for the
dinner.
“I am sure he drugged me,” said Hockley, weakly. “He wouldn’t have
gotten the money from me if he hadn’t.”
“I will see the man,” returned Professor Strong, shortly, and insisted
that the youth show the way to where J. Rutherford Brown might be
found.
The man from Montana stood upon the hotel steps, just preparatory
to going on a hunt for another victim. He was smoking a black-
looking cigar. He felt particularly elated, for between Hockley and a
victim picked up two days before he had come into the possession of
over three hundred dollars. To be sure, this was no fortune,
especially to one supposed to own valuable gold mines in the West,
but to J. Rutherford Brown, who had often had less than a dollar in
his pockets, it was a considerable sum.
“Don’t think I’ll stay here much longer,” he mused, as he puffed away.
“That boy or that man from Philadelphia may turn up and make
trouble. Guess I’ll go back to San Juan.”
“There is the fellow!” cried Hockley, to Professor Strong. “The man
with the checked suit, who is smoking.”
The professor took a good look and then he smiled grimly to himself.
“I fancy we are in luck,” he said, briefly. “I know this fellow.”
“You do?” ejaculated Hockley. “Who is he?”
Professor Strong did not answer, but going up to the man from
Montana clapped him on the arm.
“So we meet again, Henry Umbler,” he said.
The man who had called himself J. Rutherford Brown gave a start
and his face changed color. Then he recovered and endeavored to
put on a bold front.
“You are mistaken, sir. My name is not Umbler,” he said.
“We won’t argue the point, Umbler. I want you to pay back to this
young man the money you took from him.”
“Don’t know him, sir. You are making a mistake.”
“Are you sure of this fellow?” questioned Professor Strong of
Hockley.
“Yes, sir,” was the prompt answer.
“Then, Umbler, you must give up the money, every cent of it. Please
to remember that you are in United States territory now—not in
Brazil, where you were when last we met. I fancy some stockholders
of the International Star Rubber Company would be glad to get their
hands on Henry Umbler, one of the promoters of that get-rich-quick
concern.”
“I tell you I am not Henry Umbler,” insisted the man from Montana.
“Very well then. We’ll go to police headquarters and settle this affair.”
“What do you want?”
“I want this young man’s money, his watch and his ring returned to
him.”
“What is he to you?”
“I brought him down here to see the sights,—and I am bound to see
that he is not swindled. Give him back his money and other things
and I will not prosecute you, but if you refuse, I’ll see to it that he not
only gets his money but that you go back to the West, where you
belong.”
At this plain talk the face of the swindler became a study. At last he
turned and faced Hockley.
“We had a fair game,” he growled. “You’re a baby to squeal, nothing
but a baby. But if you want the money you can have it.”
He brought a roll of bills out of his pocket, and began to count out a
sum equal to that the youth had possessed. With this, and the watch
and ring, in his hand he looked again at Professor Strong.
“If I give him this does that close the whole affair?” he asked.
“Yes, so far is I am concerned,” answered Amos Strong.
“Then here you are, baby,” went on the man from Montana, and
thrust the money and other things into Hockley’s willing hand. “Don’t
ever try to be a sport again. You’re only fit to be let loose in a
kindergarten.” And then he walked away, puffing at his black cigar
more furiously than ever.
“Who is he?” questioned Hockley, as he put the money away, after
counting it.
“He is a Western sharp,” replied the professor. “Years ago he was
mixed up in a stock company that proved to be little better than a
swindle. I had some shares in it but managed to get my money back.
I tried to help others in the company, but they wouldn’t listen to my
plan and went ahead on their own account and lost. I met Umbler in
Brazil once and tried to get more money out of him, for the other
stockholders, but he laughed at me, for at that time it would have
been a hard matter to have a man transported from Brazil to the
United States on such a charge as I could make.”
“I—I am much obliged for getting the money back, sir.”
“It was rare good luck, Jacob, nothing else, and now you have it
again I want you to turn it over to me.”
“But, sir——.”
“I will not argue the matter.” Professor Strong’s voice grew stern
once more. “You can either give the money to me, or pack your trunk
and go home. And if you get into any more such scrapes I shall notify
your father and send you home anyway. I want no more gambling
and no more ‘seeing the sights’ on your own account. You have got
to turn over a new leaf.”
For half an hour Amos Strong “laid down the law” to Hockley and at
the end of that time the bully felt very humble indeed. He did not
wish to be sent home, and he promised faithfully to do better in the
future; and there the affair was dropped.
 CHAPTER XXIV
SOMETHING ABOUT EARTHQUAKES AND
VOLCANOES

For four days the boys traveled around Ponce with the professor,
taking in all the sights. They also took a trip on the railroad to
Guayanilla and Yauco, and likewise down to several small villages
along the seacoast. They were particularly interested in the
American government of the island, and spent several hours at the
various departments. Here the professor met two officials whom he
knew, and all were made to feel thoroughly at home.
In those trips Hockley had little to say, and the other boys noticed the
change in his manner.
“Something went wrong, that’s certain,” observed Darry. But what it
had been they could not imagine, for neither Hockley nor the
professor said anything, and they did not dare to make inquiries.
At the close of the fourth day a French steamer came into the Port of
Ponce, bound from Hayti to St. Pierre, Martinique. The steamer was
one upon which Amos Strong had sailed once before and he knew
Captain Danvier fairly well. He at once communicated this fact to the
boys.
“If we are to go down to Martinique we cannot do better than sail with
Captain Danvier,” he said. “His steamer, the Vendee, is a
comfortable craft, and we shall be certain of good food and pleasant
company.”
“Then let us sail by all means,” said Mark, who was anxious to get to
St. Pierre and see his father, and Frank said the same. Sam and
Darry were likewise willing, and so, for a wonder was Hockley. As a
matter of fact the tall youth had wished to get away from Ponce long
before, being fearful that the other boys might learn something about
J. Rutherford Brown, alias Henry Umbler, and of the loss of money
by gambling.
The matter of accommodations on board of the Vendee was easily
arranged with Captain Danvier, who was delighted to meet Professor
Strong again, and twenty-four hours later the party bid farewell to the
Port of Ponce and sailed for the island which was destined so soon
to become the center of one of the largest catastrophes known to
history.
“I guess we have quite a sail before us,” said Sam, after land had
become hidden in the distance.
“We have, Samuel,” answered the professor. “Roughly speaking, the
distance from Ponce to St. Pierre is a little over four hundred miles.
We shall sail directly to the south-east, and make no stops on the
way. The Vendee is not a fast steamer, but Captain Danvier
calculates to cover the distance in five days.”
“I have been looking up a map of the Leeward Islands,” put in Mark.
“What a lot of them there are and all in a row, like the tops of a
mountain range.”
“And that is just what they are, Mark, and the tops of a very high
range of mountains at that, only the water covers the larger part of
the range. Between some of these islands and to the east and west
the water is five and six thousand feet deep. If the sea was swept
away some of these peaks would be two miles high.”
“They must have had some terrible earthquakes and volcanic
eruptions to produce such mountains,” said Darry, who had joined
the group.
“They have had, Dartworth, and these eruptions have extended not
alone through the Leeward Islands, but through the whole of the
West Indies and also through Central and South America and parts
of Mexico.”
“Do you know, I have never read much about earthquakes and
volcanoes,” observed Mark. “But it seems to me it ought to prove
interesting reading.”
“It is interesting—more so than any novel you ever read.
Earthquakes alone have enlisted the attention of scientists for years,
and they have to-day the record of over seven thousand which
proved more or less disastrous.”
“Seven thousand!” cried Darry. “Then old Mother Earth isn’t as fixed
as I thought her!”
“No, Mother Earth is not fixed, but continually changing, both inside
and out. There are tremendous fires on the interior and these often
crack open the dirt and rock, letting in large quantities of sea-water.
Then comes an explosion, just as you may have at home if you
throw cold water into a red-hot kitchen range. The steam and gases
don’t know where to go, and consequently there is a volcanic
eruption, or else something breaks loose underground and an
earthquake follows. If this happens close to the sea, or under the
sea, there is a tidal wave, the water going down and up with the
movements of the ocean bed.”
“Do all earthquakes come from volcanic fires?” asked Sam.
“We cannot answer that, Samuel. Some earthquakes seem not to
have any connection with volcanoes, as for instance the earthquake
at Charleston, South Carolina, in 1886. There was no fire there, and
but little gas, and what caused the quaking, with its tremendous
damage to property and human life, is a mystery.”
“What was the very worst earthquake known?” came from Frank.
“That at Lisbon, Portugal, in 1755. It happened late in the year, and
before it occurred there were numerous small earthquakes and
volcanic outbursts throughout Europe. When the big earthquake
came there were three shocks in quick succession and the very
bottom of the harbor dropped out. After many ships were engulfed,
the bottom of the harbor came up again and there was a fierce
onrush of water. What was left standing of the city took fire, and fully
fifty thousand people lost their lives.”
“Isn’t Vesuvius the largest of all known volcanoes?” asked Darry.
“It is certainly the most destructive of volcanoes, having destroyed
Pompeii by covering it with a fine dust, until it was completely buried
from sight, and having covered Herculaneum with a shower of mud,
so that hardly a soul escaped from a territory miles in extent. But the
largest volcano in the world is probably Krakatua, situated between
the islands of Sumatra and Java, in the East Indies. This volcano
was first heard of in 1860, but its greatest outbreak occurred in 1883.
At first there was a tremendous column of vapor over the island,
which, fortunately, was uninhabited. This increased, and explosion
after explosion was heard, each growing louder than the others.
These explosions finally got so terrific that they were heard
thousands of miles away, and the inhabitants of Java, Sumatra, and
other islands in that vicinity were filled with terror. At last, late in
August, came one grand explosion in the morning, and about eight
square miles of dirt and rock were hurled into the air, to fall into the
hissing and boiling sea. The gas, dust, and noxious vapors traveled
for miles and obscured the sun like an eclipse, and the tidal waves
rose to a height of sixty to ninety feet, causing the loss of much
shipping and probably forty thousand lives. Had Krakatua been on
the mainland instead of on an island there would probably have been
such a catastrophe as is unknown to modern history.”
“I’m glad I wasn’t there,” put in Hockley, who had lounged up during
the talk, and felt that he must say something. “I’m willing enough to
stay where there are no earthquakes and volcanoes.”
“What about the volcanoes down here?” asked Mark. “You said
something about Mont Pelee, on the island of Martinique.”
“That is now supposed to be an extinct volcano. It was in eruption in
1813, 1817, 1823, 1839 and 1851. The eruption of 1839 was the
worst and this nearly destroyed Fort de France, the capital of the
island. The volcano is forty-two hundred feet in height and several
miles in circumference. The last time I stopped at St. Pierre there
was an excursion formed to visit the crater of the mountain, which
now forms a beautiful lake of unknown depth. We spent a day in
looking around and took dinner at a fine hotel at the foot of Pelee.”
“Are there any other volcanoes on the island?”
“There is Mount Carbet, near the center of the island, and Mount
Vauclin near the south-east extremity, but they are of small
importance.”
“We must visit all the volcanoes!” cried Frank. “I want to see what
they look like on the inside.”
“I thought there was a big volcano on the Hawaiian Islands,” put in
Hockley.
“There is, Jacob, Kilauea, which is nine miles in circumference, and
one of the largest in the world. But this has never shown the activity
of Vesuvius or of some others. There is also a volcano on the island
of St. Vincent, due south of Martinique, which is well worth visiting.”
“Oh, I don’t care to see them—at least, not if there is any danger of
their shooting off,” added the tall youth, hastily, and in such a manner
that the others could scarcely keep from laughing.
“We will try to avoid all eruptions,” replied the professor, smiling, for
even he did not dream of what was so close at hand.
The boys found Captain Danvier just as sociable as Amos Strong
had pictured him, and the worthy commander of the Vendee gave
them permission to roam over the steamer at will. He could speak
English fairly well and took a delight in explaining his nautical
instruments and other things to them.
“’Tis verra nice for you to do ze traveling around,” he said. “And wid
such a learned gentlemans as ze professair it is von double
pleasure. He is ze fine gentlemans, I know heem well.”
“And so do we know him,” answered Darry. “He’s O. K.”
“O. K. Vot you means by zat?”
“Oh, I mean he is just the cheese,” said Darry, bound to have his fun.
The French captain looked more bewildered than ever. “De cheese?
Ha, you mean de cheese to eat—de caise. But you no mean to eat
him, no.”
“No, I mean he is just the ticket.”
“De ticket, vot is dat? De carte, eh? How is de professair de carte?”
“I didn’t say the professor was a card—or a bill of fare either. I mean
he is just all right.”
“All right? Ha, I see—oui, oui! Surely he is all right, de professair is
nevair wrong. But while he is right how can he be de ticket and de
cheese, and de O. K.? Dat Englis as she is spoke by de American is
von verra funny language, yes!” And the French captain shrugged
his shoulders, while Darry and the other boys had to turn away to
keep from laughing in the good-hearted man’s face. But when Darry
and Mark tried to air the little French they knew before Captain
Danvier he laughed as heartily as they did.
 CHAPTER XXV
A COLLISION AT SEA

On the second day on shipboard Professor Strong produced a map

of the Leeward Islands, and told the boys something more
concerning the island they were to visit.
“As you will see by the map,” he said, “Martinique is irregular in
shape. Roughly speaking it is forty miles long by from ten to fifteen
miles wide. The area is less than four hundred square miles, and a
good portion of this is rocky and unfit for cultivation.”
“I see Mont Pelee, in the north,” said Mark, studying the map.
“The principal cities are Fort de France, the capital, located on the
bay of the same name, and St. Pierre and Lamentin. These three
cities are, as you see, located on the western coast of the island. On
the eastern coast is François, a town which has quite a respectable
shipping. The total population of the island is about two hundred
thousand, mostly negroes, half-castes, and French.”
“What do they raise there?” came from Sam.
“Sugar mostly, although there is also some tobacco and also a few
cattle. On an island so narrow, the streams, of course, cannot be of
much importance. The place was discovered by Columbus in 1502
and was first settled by the French, and it is a French colony to-day. I
have been at both Fort de France and St. Pierre and found them
progressive in their way. Each contains from twenty-five to thirty
thousand inhabitants and boasts of a number of fine parks and
public buildings. Just outside of St. Pierre is a suburb in which the
wealthy French population have some beautiful residences. The
drive to this district is delightful.”
“And how far is Mont Pelee from the city?” asked Sam.
“The volcano is five miles north of St. Pierre. The country is very hilly,
but there are several routes by which the crater of the volcano can
be reached with ease. There are a few small rivers to cross but
these are all bridged. Just north of St. Pierre is a large sugar refinery.
The city itself lies right along the waterfront, with high hills directly
behind it.”
After this the talk became general and the professor told them of his
former visits to Martinique, and also to the islands of Guadeloupe,
Dominica, St. Lucia, St. Vincent and Grenada, others of the group.
He told them there might be little or no hunting in store for them, but
a good deal of mountain climbing, and volcano exploring if they
desired it. And they said they did, all but Hockley, who, as usual
hung back for something else, he could not tell what.
For two days the weather remained fine and the time passed swiftly
enough, but on the morning of the third day the sky clouded up and
by noon it was raining in torrents. Then the wind came up and the
little steamer had all she could do to keep to her course.
The first effect of the storm was to drive everybody to the cabin.
Windows and doors were bolted and ports secured, and the
passengers kept their feet with difficulty as they moved around.
Eating at the table was almost impossible, and the professor had a
dish of peas upset in his lap, while Hockley nearly choked himself
with a cup of coffee which went up his nose and into his eyes. Mark
was also unfortunate. He was trying to eat a bit of steak but it slipped
from his plate to his knee and then the whole length of the dining
room floor. A waiter stepped on it and went headlong, bringing down
an armful of dishes with a mighty crash.
“Say! but this is a storm and no mistake!” gasped Mark, after the
laughing had subsided. “And such a nice piece of beefsteak, too.”
“We’re lucky if we don’t all go to the bottom!” sighed Hockley. And
then he made a rush from the room to his stateroom. He had been
taken seasick and was perfectly miserable from that time until the
storm cleared away.
Toward evening the rain let up a bit, and as it was very close and
stuffy in the cabin, the boys begged Professor Strong to let them go
on deck. He finally consented, but warned them to take good care
and not fall overboard.
“This is a treacherous sea,” he said. “The waves sometimes run very
high when least expected. Hold on tight, no matter where you
happen to be standing.”
“All right, we’ll be careful,” said Sam.
They went on deck and secured a position close by the wheelhouse,
where a number of life-lines had been stretched. Captain Danvier
was present and also warned them to be on guard.
“Ze waves run verra high,” he said. “You must hold on hard, oui,
verra hard.”
An hour went by, and the storm seemed on the point of subsiding
altogether. Feeling they could now walk around a little, the boys
moved from one end of the steamer to the other with caution. The
deck was still slippery and it was now dark.
Important events sometimes happen with alarming swiftness and
such proved to be the case in the present instance. It had looked as
if the storm was about at an end, but without warning there came
another blow, which sent the spray flying in all directions. The
lookouts were drenched and for the moment could see nothing. Then
as the spray cleared away for an instant, one of them gave a mad
yell in French:
“A ship! A ship dead ahead!”
The cry had hardly pierced the air when there came a tremendous
shock which shook the Vendee from stem to stern and caused the
steamer to list well over to port. Sam and Darry, who had started
back for the cabin, to change their wet jackets, were pitched
headlong and bumped into each other close to a post.
“Oh!” groaned Sam.
“Are you hurt, Beans?” questioned Darry, catching his chum by the
shoulder.
“A little. What was that struck us?”
“I don’t know.”
Another cry now came out of the darkness. But it was in French and
they could not understand it. Then some sailors rushed past them
with a large square of canvas and some ropes.
“We have been struck and they are going to cover the hole with
sailcloth,” explained another passenger, who could speak both
French and English. “What we struck nobody knows excepting that it
was some kind of vessel.”
With difficulty the two boys gained their feet and ran for the cabin. At
the doorway both halted and each gazed at the other in
consternation.
“Mark and Frank!” burst out Darry. “Where are they?”
“I’m sure I don’t know,” responded Sam, in equal dismay. He raised
his voice: “Frank! Mark! Are you safe?” he called out.
No answer came back, and now Professor Strong rushed up, fully as
alarmed as anybody.
“Are you all right?” he questioned. “Where are Mark and Frank?”
“We don’t know, sir,” answered Sam.
“They were on deck with you?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Pray heaven they haven’t gone overboard,” gasped Amos Strong,
and greatly agitated, he ran out into the darkness of the deck. Then
they heard him call back: “Remain in the cabin until I return.”
A dozen cries now resounded on every side, and bells were jangling
almost as wildly. The Vendee had been struck on the starboard side,
just aft of the bow, and the captain was ordering some of the cargo
to be shifted to the stern, that the bow might come up as far as
possible out of the water. In the meantime the ship’s carpenter had
got out the sailcloth and he and his men were lowering it over the
hole, to keep out the rush of water. Below, the pump had been
connected with the engine and this was already battling bravely to
free the hold of the briny element that threatened to send the gallant
steamer to the bottom.
In the midst of the excitement Hockley appeared. He saw that this
was no “fake” sinking, and his face was pale with terror as he clung
first to Sam and then to Darry.
“It’s awful!” he wailed. “What shall we do? Where are the life
preservers? Where is the professor? Why don’t he order out a boat
to save us? How far do you suppose we are from land? Oh, I know I
can’t swim in such a sea!” And he shook like a leaf.
“We are not going down yet, Jake,” answered Sam. “The professor is
looking for Mark and Frank. I’m afraid they’ve been washed
overboard.”
“There is a signal of distress!” interrupted Darry, pointing out through
the darkness. A rocket had flared through the air, and now another
followed. Then a strong Bengal light lit up the scene.
“I’m going out to look for Frank and Mark,” said Darry, recklessly, and
left the cabin. Sam came close behind him. Hockley did not wish to
go, but to remain alone seemed even worse and he also followed,
but more slowly.
The Vendee had been backed and was now coming up alongside of
the ship with which it had been in collision. The strong Bengal light
showed her to be a three masted schooner, piled high with lumber. A
good part of the lumber on the forward deck had been unshipped by
the collision and was floating in the angry sea.
“Do you see anything of Mark and Frank?” asked Sam, hoarsely, as
he and Darry slipped up beside the professor.
“Not a sign,” was the sad answer. “If they were washed overboard I
fear they were drowned.”
“Oh, don’t say that!” gasped Darry. “Drowned! It’s horrible!”
“Can’t they put out a small boat?” asked Sam.
“No small boat would live in such a sea as this, and besides with so
much loose lumber floating around it would be doubly dangerous to
try going out.”
“But what are we going to do?” demanded Hockley. “I—I don’t want
to drown just yet.”
“I don’t imagine this steamer is going down, Jacob. We received a
heavy blow, it is true, but she is built in a number of compartments.
My whole anxiety, is for Mark and Frank. If they went overboard they
must be lost.”
“Well, it was their business to take care of themselves,” grumbled the
tall youth, unfeelingly.
“And it is your business to look out for yourself,” retorted Darry. “But
don’t let us quarrel; this thing is far too serious,” he added.
The Bengal light had now burnt itself out and no more were lit for the
reason that the storm was again coming up and the crew of each
vessel had to bestow their entire attention to the question of saving
the craft from going down. This was comparatively an easy matter on
board of the Vendee and soon under officers were sent around to
assure the passengers that there was no immediate cause for alarm,
that the hole had been patched up temporarily, and that it would be
thoroughly repaired as soon as the wind abated.
Captain Danvier was extremely sorry to hear that two of the boys
were missing and at once did what he could toward finding them. But
in such a storm, which was again increasing, his first duty was to his
ship, and he said, as had Professor Strong, that to risk a small boat
in such a sea would be foolhardy.
“We must wait until daylight,” he said, in French. “I can do nothing
now.”
Slowly the night wore away. Nobody slept, and at the first streak of
dawn all went on deck. The storm had passed, but the sky was still
dark. The captain had thought best to lay to, thinking the lumber
schooner might need assistance. The other craft was not far away
and soon they came within hailing distance of each other. The
lumber boat flew the Dutch flag and proved to be bound from Saba
to Curaçao.
“I have lost a large quantity of lumber!” roared the Dutch skipper,
wrathfully. “I shall hold you responsible in law for it!”
“Have you seen anything of two boys?” questioned Captain Danvier.
“We have lost them.”
“No, I have seen no boys. Have you seen a man? We lost one of our
sailors in that smash.”
“No, we have seen nobody,” answered the French captain.
“It was your fault we had that smash,” the Dutch skipper continued.
“Remember, I shall hold you for it in law, the first chance I get!”
“Do as you please about that,” returned Captain Danvier, coolly. “You
are as much to blame as myself. But if you see anything of those
boys treat them well and you’ll lose nothing by it.”
“I’ll treat them well enough,” growled the Dutch skipper.
As the Dutchman could speak neither French nor English the
conversation had to be carried on in his native tongue and it was
hard for Captain Danvier to make himself understood. Only a few
words more passed, and then the two vessels separated, and the
lumber schooner proceeded on her way, with every sail set.
“It ees certainly verra sad,” said the French captain, to the professor
and the boys. “I vill do what I can for ze boys—but what is zare to do,
tell me zat?”
“I wish you would remain in this vicinity for a day or so,” answered
Professor Strong. “They may be floating around, and if so I hope to
pick them up.”
The captain agreed readily, and not one day but two were spent in
the vicinity. In the meantime the hole in the bow was repaired, so
that danger from that source became a thing of the past.
The loss of Mark and Frank made Sam, Darry and Professor Strong
feel much downcast and even Hockley went around looking very
sober.
“I never dreamed that such a dreadful thing would happen,” said
Darry, and there were tears in his eyes. “I declare, if they don’t turn
up I’m going right back home.”
“And I am with you,” answered Sam. “To go sight-seeing without
them would make me sick.”
“And think of their fathers being at St. Pierre ready to welcome
them,” went on Darry. “That makes it ten times worse.”
And Sam agreed that it did. The loss of their chums cast a gloom
over them impossible to dispel.
 CHAPTER XXVI
THE LUMBER RAFT

Let us go back and find out what really did become of Mark and
Frank at the time the Vendee was struck in the darkness of the storm
by the Dutch lumber vessel.
As the French steamer listed to port the chums caught at the railing
before them. But this was wet and slippery and in an instant Frank
found himself over the side.
“Help!” he screamed, but the cry was drowned out in the roar of the
elements around him. Mark made a clutch at him, but he, too, was
carried overboard.
With clasped hands the two boys struck the water and went down
and down, they knew not whither. The accident had occurred so
quickly that both were completely bewildered, and it was purely by
instinct that each closed his mouth to keep out the briny element.
The waves leaped and foamed all around them, and Mark felt
something scrape his shoulder, he could not tell what, although long
after he concluded it must have been the side of the steamer.
Just what occurred during the five minutes that followed it would be
hard to describe. The boys clung to each other, bound to live or die
together. Even in that awful moment the thought of separating was
still more terrifying. Occasionally they saw a light, but soon these
were lost to view, and they found themselves in the blackness of the
night, alone.
“Frank, are you—you alive?” Such were the first words spoken
between the pair.
“Ye—yes,” came with a gasp. “Ho—how are we going to get back to
the—the steamer?”
“I don’t know. I can’t see the vessel anywhere, can you?”
As the waves carried them upward they gazed around eagerly. Not a
light was anywhere.
“The steamer has gone on—we are deserted!” cried Mark, and his
heart sank like a lump of lead in his bosom.
“Oh, don’t say that,” returned Frank. “Surely, they won’t leave us to
drown!”
A period of silence ensued. Then Frank felt something sheer up
alongside of him. He put out a hand and felt a stick of wood—one
washed overboard from the lumber craft.
“A log!” he cried. “Catch hold, Mark!”
Mark was willing enough and they caught hold of the log, to find that
it was fastened with a short chain to a number of other logs. Not
without difficulty they crawled to the top of the crude raft.
“Where did this come from?” queried Frank. “Do you suppose they
threw it overboard for us?”
“Perhaps, although I never saw such a life raft on the Vendee—if it is
a life raft. It looks more to me like some washed-away lumber.
Perhaps we struck another ship—in fact, I am almost sure we did. If
she was a lumber craft, this must be from her.”
Another spell of silence ensued, during which both strained their
eyes to see through the driving storm. Nothing but the waves met
their gaze, carrying them upward at one moment as if to the top of a
high hill, and then letting them sink and sink into a hollow until it
looked as if they should never rise again.
It was a time never to be forgotten, and each boy breathed a silent
prayer that he might be brought through this great peril in safety.
Thus the minutes slipped by, until suddenly Mark gave a cry.
“A light! A sky-rocket!”
He was right, from a great distance they saw the rocket from the
lumber vessel flare out through the storm. Then followed a
brightness lower down, but this Bengal light was not so distinct.
“Can it be the steamer in distress?” they asked each other.
“Looks as if something was on fire,” said Mark. He tried to stand up
on the lumber, Frank in the meantime holding him fast by the ankles.
But now the raft went into a hollow, and when it came up again the
light was gone.
Slowly the hours went by and the storm gradually subsided. The
boys found that the chain was fastened tightly around the lumber
and they clung to this and waited for daybreak. They did not mind
being wet to the skin, for the night was warm, but each was
thoroughly exhausted by his struggles.
At last came the light, low down in the east, and gradually the day
came over the rim of the sea—dull and heavy and bringing little of
cheer. Both stood up and gazed around eagerly.
Not a sail of any kind in sight.
It was a trying moment, and both had hard work to command their
feelings. Here they were, cast away on the broad bosom of the
Caribbean Sea, miles from land, and with no ship to pick them up.
“And nothing to eat or to drink,” said Frank. “Oh, Mark, what shall we
do?”
“I’m sure I don’t know, Frank. All we can do is to remain on this pile
of lumber and trust to luck.”
“We’ll die of hunger and thirst. I’m thirsty already.”
“So am I, but we had better not think of that.”
As the day grew a little brighter they continued to watch for the ship.
Once Mark thought he saw a vessel far to the eastward, but he was
not sure. An hour after this Frank gave a cry.
“Another raft, and somebody is on it!”
Frank was right, close at hand another raft was floating, and on top
of this lay the figure of a man, either dead or asleep.
“Hullo there!” cried Mark. “Hullo! Ahoy!”
At first the figure on the raft did not stir, but as the lumber came
closer the man sat up and gazed around wildly.
On catching sight of the two boys he gave a faint cry in a language
that was strange to them.
“He must be a castaway like ourselves,” said Mark.
“See, he is motioning to us with a rope,” said Frank. “He is going to
throw us one end.”
The end of the rope was thrown not once, but three times before
they could catch it. Then they drew the other raft toward them and
lashed the two heaps of lumber together. Thus united, the piles
made a raft of considerable size.
The man who had thus strangely joined them was evidently a sailor
and he was suffering from an ugly wound on the shoulder. At first he
said but little, but at last they made out that his name was Sven
Orlaff and that he was a Norwegian.
“I be on da Dutch boat, Christiana,” he said, in broken English. “Da
boat strike da steamer an’ I got by da vater in. So you go, too?”
“Yes, we were on the steamer,” answered Mark. “Have you any idea
where the steamer or the Dutch boat is?”
At this question Sven Orlaff shook his head. “Lose da boat—so
dark,” he said. “My shouler much hurt—I sick, fall da vater in and
must swim to da lumber. No see da boat vonce more.”
“We’re in a tough situation,” put in Frank, and heaved a sigh. “Are we
anywhere near to land?”
At this Sven Orlaff shook his head again. “No land near dis blace,”
he said. “No much boats here.”
“No land and very few ships,” said Mark. “Frank, it is certainly a
dismal outlook.”
They saw that the Norwegian’s shoulder needed to be bound up and
went at the work without delay, tearing the sleeves from their shirts
for this purpose. He was thankful, and told them so in his own
peculiar way.
The work had scarcely been accomplished when something odd
happened. Frank had allowed an end of the rope to trail behind the
raft. Now the rope was seized by some kind of a fish who swallowed
the knot. Like a flash the Norwegian sailor pulled in the rope, landed
the fish and smashed its head with his heel.
“Make to eat,” he explained. “I hungry.”
“Why, of course,” cried Mark. “I’m hungry myself. I wonder if we can’t
catch more of them?”
For answer the sailor pulled a stout fishline from his pocket, and also
a knife. With the knife he cut off a portion of the fish’s tail for bait.
“Give it to me, I’ll do the fishing,” said Mark, for he did not want the
hurt man to use his wounded shoulder.
Luckily for them, fish were plentiful in that vicinity, and in a moment
he got a bite and landed another fish, weighing at least two pounds.
Then he tried again and again, and soon had a mess of a dozen.
“We shall not starve to death, that’s sure,” said Frank, who had fixed
a place between the lumber for the catch. “I wish, Mark, you could
catch something else.”
“What’s that?”
“Water.”
“Don’t mention it. I am dry enough without thinking about it.”
All were dry, and as the day wore on their thirst increased until they
could hardly endure it.
There was small danger of the lumber blazing up, with so much salt
water to extinguish a big fire, and so they cut slivers from some
boards and started a little fire on the top of several big timbers, using
a match from Mark’s water-tight safe for that purpose. Soon they had
a fairly good blaze going and over this they cooked their fish, or
rather, half cooked and half burnt it, for the operation proved far from
satisfactory. But even such a meal was better than if the fish had
been raw.
By the time they had eaten their fill it began to cloud up once more
and soon it was raining steadily. They lost no time in spreading their
garments to catch the water and soon each had as much as he
wished to drink. The rain lasted about two hours, then cleared away
quickly, and toward the middle of the afternoon the sun came out.
As the light kept growing Mark stood up and looked around them
once more. Then he gave a cry:
“A ship! A ship!”
 CHAPTER XXVII
STONE DUST AND BOILING WATER

Mark’s cry aroused Frank and the Norwegian sailor, and both
looked eagerly in the direction pointed out.
“I see something,” said Frank, after a searching look. “But if it is a
ship or a small island I cannot tell.”
“Da ship!” cried Sven Orlaff. “Da ship sure!”
“Do you mean your ship?” queried Mark.
“I no can say ’bout dat. Look lak my ship, but no sure.”
For several minutes they watched the vessel in silence. Would it
come toward them?
“Let us raise a signal of distress,” said Frank. “Here, I’ll put my shirt
up on the end of a board.” And this was done without delay.
“We mak big smoke—dat be verra goot,” suggested Sven Orlaff, and
began to kindle a blaze where the former fire had been. Over this he
placed some wet bits of board which soon produced so much smoke
that it nearly choked them.
“They ought to see that,” said Frank.
“You must remember that this raft is much smaller than the ship,
Frank,” answered Mark, who was afraid of raising false hopes.
“When we go down into a hollow of the sea we are completely out of
their sight.”
An anxious quarter of an hour went by, during which the ship
seemed to come a little nearer.
“I believe she will come to us,” said Mark, at last.
Both of the boys looked anxiously at the Norwegian sailor, feeling
that he had more experience in such affairs than themselves.
Sven Orlaff shook his head sadly.
“Da ship go ’round—no will come here,” he said.
“It won’t!” gasped Mark and Frank in a breath.
And again the sailor shook his head. The lads gazed eagerly, with
eyes almost starting from their sockets. Sven Orlaff was right—the
distant object was slowly but surely fading from their vision.
The despair of the boys was now greater than ever, and for some
time neither could trust himself to speak.
“It looks as if we were doomed,” said Frank, at last, in a choking
voice.
Mark did not answer. There seemed really nothing to say.
The sun had come out strong and hot, and it was not long before all
began to feel thirsty once more. A little water remained in the hollow
between the lumber and this they drank up, fearful that it would
otherwise evaporate.
Night came on slowly and now they ate another portion of the fish. It
seemed unusually dry and they choked it down with an effort.
“It’s queer,” observed Frank. “This fish tastes to me as if it was
covered with fine dirt.”
“It must be our mouths,” replied Mark. “Mine feels full of grit, as if I
had been licking a piece of emery paper.”
They looked at Sven Orlaff, and found him rubbing his eyes. He
seemed to be trying to get something out of them.
“My eye, he got da dust in,” said the sailor. “I no lak dat. Where da
dust he come from annahow?” and he rubbed his eyes again.
“Why, the air is full of dust!” came from Frank, as he gazed upward.
“Who ever heard of such a thing, so far out at sea!”