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Bert Wilson, Wireless Operator

Page 4

by Marion Ames Taggart


  CHAPTER IV

  THE FLAMING SHIP

  The captain came in hurriedly and read the message. He figured out theposition.

  "She's all of sixty miles away," he said, looking up from hiscalculation, "and even under forced draught we can't reach her in lessthan three hours. Tell her we're coming," he ordered, and hurried out togive the necessary directions.

  The course of the ship was altered at once, the engines were signaledfor full speed ahead, and with her furnaces roaring, she rushed throughthe night to the aid of her sister vessel, sorely beset by the mostdreaded peril of the sea.

  In the mean time Bert had clicked off the message: "We've got you, oldman. Ship, _Fearless_, Captain Manning. Longitude 125:20, latitude36:54. Will be with you in three hours. Cheer up. If you're notdisabled, steam to meet us."

  Quickly the answer came back: "Thank God. Fighting the fire, but it'sgetting beyond us. Hasn't reached the engine room yet, but may verysoon. Hurry."

  In short, jerky sentences came the story of the disaster. The steamerwas the _Caledonian_, a tramp vessel, plying between Singapore and SanFrancisco. There was a heavy cargo and about forty passengers. A littlewhile since, they had detected fire in the hold, but had concealed thefact from the passengers and had tried to stifle it by their ownefforts. It had steadily gained, however, despite their desperate work,until the flames burst through the deck. A wild panic had ensued, butthe captain and the mates had kept the upper hand. The crew had behavedwell, and the boats were ready for launching if the worst came to theworst. The fire was gaining. "Hurry. Captain says----"

  Then the story ceased. Bert called and called again. No answer. The boyslooked at each other.

  "The dynamo must have gone out of commission," said Bert. "I can't gethim. The flames may have driven him out of the wireless room."

  All were in an agony of suspense and fear. It seemed as though theycrept, although the ship shook with the vibration of its powerfulengines, working as they had never worked before. The _Fearless_ wasfairly flying, as though she knew the fearful need of haste.

  Outside of the wireless room, none of the passengers knew of thedisaster. Most of them had retired, and, if the few who were still upand about sensed anything unusual, the discipline of the ship keptquestions unspoken. All the officers and the crew, however, were on thealert and tingling with the strain, and every eye was turned toward thedistant horizon, to catch the first glimpse of the burning vessel.

  Out into the night, Bert sent his call desperately, hoping to raise someother ship nearer to the doomed steamer than the _Fearless_, but invain. He caught a collier, three hundred miles away, and a United Statesgunboat, one hundred and sixty miles distant, but, try as he would,there was nothing nearer. Nobody but themselves could attempt therescue. Of course, there was the chance that some sailing vessel, notequipped with wireless, might come upon the scene, but this was soremote that it could be dismissed from consideration.

  More than half the distance had been covered when Dick, who had steppedoutside, came running in.

  "Come on out, fellows," he cried, excitedly. "We can see a light in thesky that we think must come from the fire."

  They followed him on the run. There, sure enough, on the distanthorizon, was a deep reddish glow, that seemed to grow brighter withevery passing moment. At times, it waned a trifle, probably obscured bysmoke, only to reappear more crimson than ever, as the vessel drewnearer.

  "How far off do you suppose it is now?" asked Tom.

  "Not more than fifteen miles, I should think," answered Bert. "We'll bethere in less than an hour now, if we can keep up this pace."

  The _Fearless_ flew on, steadily cutting down the distance, and now thesky was the color of blood. Everything had been gotten in readiness forthe work of rescue. The boats had been cleared and hung in their davits,ready to be lowered in a trice. Lines of hose were prepared, not so muchwith the hope of putting out the fire as to protect their own vesselfrom the flying brands. Every man of the crew was at his appointedplace. Since the wireless could no longer be used to send messages ofencouragement, rockets were sent up at intervals to tell theunfortunates that help was coming.

  "Look!" cried Tom. "That was an actual flash I saw that time."

  Gradually these became more frequent, and now the upper part of thevessel came into view, wreathed in smoke and flame. Soon the hullappeared, and then they could get a clear idea of the catastrophe.

  The whole forward part of the vessel was a seething mass of fire. Theengines had been put out of commission, and the hull wallowed helplesslyat the mercy of the waves. The officers and crew, fighting to the last,had been crowded aft, and the stern was black with passengers huddleddespairingly together. The supply of boats had been insufficient, andtwo of these had been smashed in lowering. Two others, packed to theguards, had been pushed away from the vessel, so as not to be set onfire by the brands that fell in showers all around. Near the stern, someof the sailors were hastily trying to improvise a raft with spars andcasks. They were working with superhuman energy, but, hampered as theywere by the frantic passengers, could make but little progress. And allthe time the pitiless flames were coming nearer and nearer, greedilylicking up everything that disputed their advance. It was a scene ofanguish and of panic such as had never been dreamed of by the breathlessspectators who crowded the bow of the _Fearless_, as it swiftly sweptinto the zone of light and prepared to lower its boats.

  Suddenly there was a great commotion visible on the flaming ship. Theyhad seen their rescuers. Men shouted and pointed wildly; women screamedand fell on their knees in thanksgiving. The boats already in the watergave way and made for the _Fearless_. The sailors stopped work upon theraft, now no longer needed, and turned to with the officers who werestriving desperately to keep the more frenzied passengers from plungingheadlong into the sea and swimming to the steamer. Their last refuge inthe stern had grown pitifully small now, and the flames, gatheringvolume as they advanced, rushed toward them as though determined not tobe balked of the prey that had seemed so surely in their grasp.

  It was a moment for quick action, and Captain Manning rose to theoccasion. In obedience to his sharp word of command, the sailors tumbledinto the boats, and these were dropped so smartly that they seemed tohit the water together. Out went the oars and away they pulled with allthe strength and practised skill of their sinewy arms. Bert and Dickwere permitted to go as volunteers in the boat of Mr. Collins, the firstmate, who had given his consent with some reluctance, as he had littlefaith in any but regular sailors in cases of this kind; and his boat wasthe first to reach the vessel and round to under the stern.

  "Women and children first," the unwritten law of the sea, was strictlyenforced, and they were lowered one by one, until the boat sat so low inthe water that Mr. Collins ordered his crew to back away and let thenext one take its place. Just as it got under way, a woman holding ababy in her arms, frantic with fright as she saw the boat leaving, brokeaway from the restraining hand of a sailor, and leaped from the stern.She missed the gig, which was fortunate, as she would certainly havecapsized it, heavily laden as it already was, and fell into the water.In an instant Bert, who could swim like a fish, had plunged in andgrabbed her as she rose to the surface. A few strokes of the oars andthey were hauled aboard, and the boat made for the ship. Collins,a taciturn man, looked his approval but said nothing at the time,although, in a talk with the captain afterwards, he went so far as torevise his opinion of volunteers and to admit that an able seaman couldhave done no better.

  The rest of the passengers were quickly taken off and then came the turnof the officers and crew. The captain was the last to leave the devotedvessel, and it was with a warm grasp of sympathy and understanding thatCaptain Manning greeted him as he came over the side. He was worn withthe strain and shaken with emotion. He had done all that a man could doto save his ship, but fate had been too strong for him and he had to bowto the inevitable. He refused to go below and take some refreshment,but stood with knitted brows and f
olded arms watching the burningsteamer that had carried his hopes and fortunes. They respected hisgrief and left him alone for a time, while they made arrangements forthe homeless passengers and crew.

  These were forlorn enough. They had saved practically no baggage andonly the most cherished of their personal belongings. Some had beenbadly burned in their efforts to subdue the flames, and all were at thebreaking point from excitement and fatigue. The doctors of both shipswere taxed to the utmost, administering sedatives and tonics anddressing the wounds of the injured. By this time the passengers of the_Fearless_ had, of course, been roused by the tumult, and men and womenalike vied with each other in aiding the unfortunates. Cabins andstaterooms were prepared for the passengers, while quarters in theforecastle were provided for the crew who, with the proverbial stolidityand fatalism of their kind, soon made themselves at home, taking thewhole thing as a matter of course. They had just been at hand-grips withdeath; but this had occurred to them so often that they regarded itsimply as an incident of their calling.

  There was no thought of sleep for Bert that night. The sounder crashedand the blue flames leaped for hours in the wireless room. The operatorof the _Caledonian_ volunteered to help him, but Bert wouldn't hear ofit and sent him to his bunk, where, after the terrific strain, he wassoon in the sleep of utter exhaustion.

  Then Bert called up the San Francisco station and told his story. Theowners of the ship were notified that the vessel and cargo were a totalloss, but that all the passengers had been saved. They sent their thanksto Captain Manning and then wirelessed for details. Mr. Quinby, ofcourse, was called into the conference. Now that it was settled thatno lives had been lost, the most important question was as to thedisposition of passengers and crew. They had been making for SanFrancisco, but naturally it was out of the question for the _Fearless_to relinquish her voyage and take them into port.

  Three courses were open. They could go to Hawaii, the first stoppingplace, and there take the first steamer leaving for San Francisco. Orthey could depend on the chance of meeting some vessel homeward bound,to which they could transship before reaching Honolulu. Or Bert couldsend his call abroad through his wireless zone and perhaps arrange forsome ship coming toward them to sail along a certain course, meet themat a given location and there take charge of the _Caledonian's_ people.In that case, the owners, of course, would expect to recompense themhandsomely for their time and trouble.

  As the survivors were desperately anxious to reach home and friends atthe earliest possible moment, Bert was instructed to follow the lattercourse and do his utmost to raise some approaching vessel. For a longtime his efforts were fruitless. His call flew over the ocean wastes butawoke no answering echo. At last, however, well toward morning, hiseager ear caught a responsive click. It came from the _Nippon_, one ofthe trans-Pacific liners plying between Yokohama and San Francisco. Shewas less than four hundred miles away and coming on a line slightly eastof the _Fearless_. The situation was explained, and after the captainsof the two steamers had carried on a long conversation, it was agreedthat the _Nippon_ should take charge of the survivors. They wouldprobably meet late that afternoon, and arrangements were made to keepeach other informed hourly of pace and direction, until they should comein sight.

  Bert breathed a huge sigh of relief when that question was settled. Buthis work was not yet done. He must notify the United States Governmentof the presence of the derelict as a menace to navigation. The_Caledonian_ had lost all its upper works and part of the hull had beenconsumed. But the waves breaking over it as it lurched from side to sidehad kept it from burning to the water's edge, and it now tossed about, ahelpless hulk right in the lane of ships. So many vessels have been lostby coming in collision with such floating wrecks at night, that theGovernment maintains a special line of gunboats, whose one duty is tosearch them out and blow them up with dynamite. Bert gave the exactlatitude and longitude to the San Francisco operator, who promised toforward it at once to the Navy Department at Washington.

  Then, at last, Bert leaned back in his chair and relaxed. The strainupon heart and nerve and brain had been tremendous. But he had "stoodthe gaff." The first great test had been nobly met. Cool, clever,self-reliant, he had not flinched or wavered under the load ofresponsibility. The emergency had challenged him and he had mastered it.In this work, so new to him, he had kept his courage and borne himselfas a veteran of the key.

  He patted the key affectionately. Good old wireless! How many parts ithad played that night and how well! Telling first of pain and terrorand begging for help; then cheerily sending hope and comfort and promiseof salvation. Without it, the dawn would now be breaking on two smallboats and a flimsy raft, crowded with miserable refugees and tossing upand down on the gray waves that threatened to engulf. Now they weresafe, thank God, warm and snug and secure, soon to be called to theabundant breakfast, whose savory odors already assailed his nostrils.And now the whole world knew of the disaster and the rescue; and themachinery of the Government was moving with reference to that abandonedhulk; and a great ship was bounding toward them over the trackless wasteto meet at a given place and time and take the survivors back to countryand home and friends and love and life. It was wonderful, mysterious,unbelievable----

  A touch upon his shoulder roused him from his reverie, and he looked up,to see the captain standing beside him.

  "You've done great work this night, Wilson," he said, smiling gravely,"and I'll see that the owners hear of it. But now you must be deadtired, and I want you to get your breakfast and turn in for a while.I'll get Howland, the wireless man of the _Caledonian_, to hold thingsdown for a few hours, while you get a rest. I've told the cook to get abite ready for you and then I want you to tumble in."

  The "bite" resolved itself into a capacious meal of steak and eggs,reinforced by fragrant coffee, after which, obeying orders, he rolledinto his bunk and at once fell into deep and dreamless sleep.

  Meanwhile, the ship awoke to the life of a new day. The sun streameddown from cloudless skies and a spanking breeze blew over the quarter.The air was like wine and to breathe it was an inspiration. The seasmiled and dimpled as its myriad waves reflected back the gloriouslight. The _Fearless_ slipped through the long swells as swiftly as awater sprite, "footing it featly" on her road to Hawaii, the Paradise ofthe Pacific. Everything spoke of life and buoyancy, and the terribleevents of the night before might well have been a frightful nightmarefrom which they had happily awakened.

  There were grim reminders, however, that it had been more than a dreamin the hurrying doctors, the bandaged hands and faces, the haggardfeatures of the men and the semi-hysterical condition of some of thewomen. But there had been no death or mortal injury. The Red Death hadgazed upon them with its flaming eyes and scorched them with its balefulbreath, but they had not been consumed. There were property losses, butno wife had been snatched from her husband, no mother wailed for herchild. Under the comforting influence of a hot breakfast, the heartfeltsympathy of the passengers and the invigorating air and sunshine, theygradually grew more cheerful. After all, they were alive, snatched by amiracle from a hideous death; and how could or dared they complain ofminor ills? The tension relaxed as the hours wore on, and by the timethat Bert, after a most refreshing sleep, appeared again on deck thescene was one of animation and almost gaiety.

  Straight to the wireless room he went, to be met on the threshold byDick and Tom and Ralph, who gathered around him in tumultuous greeting.

  "Bully for you, old man," cried Dick. "We hear that you did yourselfproud last night."

  "Yes," chimed in Ralph. "I wouldn't dare to tell you what Father says ina message I've just received, or you'd have a swelled head, sure."

  "Nonsense," answered Bert. "I simply did what it was up to me to do.Good morning, Mr. Howland," he said, as the young fellow seated at thekey rose to greet him. "How are things going?"

  "Just jogging along," answered Howland. "I guess you cleaned up abouteverything before you turned in. We're getting beyond the shore ra
nge,but I've been keeping in touch every hour with the _Nippon_. The captainfigures that we'll get together at about four this afternoon."

  The former operator of the _Caledonian_ was a well set-up, clear-eyedyoung fellow, about the age of Bert and his chums, and a liking sprangup between them at once. With the recuperative power of youth he hadalmost entirely recovered from the events of the night before, althoughhis singed hair and eyebrows bore eloquent testimony to the perils hehad faced and so narrowly escaped. He had stuck to his post until theblistering heat had made life impossible in the wireless room, and thenhad done yeoman's work in aiding the officers and crew to fight the fireand maintain order among the passengers. The boys listened with keenestinterest, while he went over in graphic style his personal experiences.

  "I can't tell you how I felt when I got your message," he said, as heturned to Bert. "I had about given up hope when your answer came. Irushed at once to the captain and he passed the word to the passengersand crew. It put new heart and life into them all, and it was the onlything that kept many from jumping into the sea when the flames got sohorribly near. But they held on desperately, and when they saw yourrockets I wish you could have heard the cry that went up. They knew thenthat it was only a matter of minutes before your boats would be underthe stern. But it was fearfully close figuring," he went on, soberly."You saw yourself that fifteen minutes after the last boat pulled awaythe whole stern was a mass of flames."

  "Well," said Bert, as he slipped on the receiver, and took charge of thekey, "it's lucky that I got your call just when I did. A little laterand I'd have been off duty."

  "That reminds me," broke in Ralph. "I sent a message to Father to-dayabout that, urging that you have an assistant to take charge when youare at meals or in bed. I suggested, too, that since Mr. Howland washere, he might be willing to go on with us and act as your assistant. Hesays he is agreeable if they want him to, and I expect a wireless fromFather to the captain authorizing him to make the arrangement."

  "I hope he will," said Bert, warmly. "Accidents have an awkward way ofhappening just when they ought not to, and when one thinks of the lifeand property at stake it certainly seems that somebody should be on thejob all the time."

  A little later the looked-for message came instructing Captain Manningto engage Howland as Bert's deputy during the voyage. From now on, therewould not be one moment of the twenty-four hours that someone would notbe on watch to send or receive, much to Bert's relief and delight. Nowhe could breathe freely and enjoy his work, without any torturing fearsof what might have happened while he slept.

  By half-past three that afternoon the ships were within twenty miles ofeach other. The beautiful weather still continued and the sea was as"calm as a millpond." All were on the alert to greet the oncomingsteamer. Soon a dot appeared, growing rapidly larger until it resolveditself into a magnificent steamer, seven hundred feet in length, withtowering masts and deck piled on deck, crowded with dense masses ofpeople. She made a stately picture as she came on until a quarter of amile from the _Fearless_. Then she hove to and lowered her boats.

  With deep emotion and the warmest thanks, the survivors bade theirrescuers good-by and were carried over to the _Nippon_, their thirdtemporary home within twenty-four hours. By the time the last boat hadunloaded and been swung on board, dusk had fallen. The ships squaredaway on their separate courses and the bells in the engine roomsignaled full speed ahead. Handkerchiefs waved and whistles tooted asthey passed each other, and the white-coated band on the upper deck ofthe _Nippon_ played "Home Again." The electric lights were suddenlyturned on and the great ship glowed in beauty from stem to stern. Theywatched her as she drew swiftly away, until her gleaming lights becametiny diamonds on the horizon's rim and then faded into the night.

 

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