by Marian Wells
Crystal heard the low rumble. Joseph tensed, and his arms surrounded them both as his body arched against the explosion blasting out from the salon. Over his shoulder Crystal saw red and black clouds sweeping toward them.
Joseph yanked them to their feet. “Boat down below!” He shoved them toward the twisted stairs. “Run—there’s more!”
Through the dense cloud of smoke the lifeboat appeared, a white arrow pointing beyond the rope ladder. When Crystal hesitated above the expanse of boiling water and surging wreckage, Joseph forced her onto the rope and shoved Amelia after her.
Joseph then dropped into the boat and faced the man at the oars. “Didn’t see no more—” There was a scream overhead and singed people plunged over the railing.
The last passenger shoved at the boat, shouting, “There’s another boiler to go—I didn’t see anyone on deck. Go!”
The force of the explosion shoved the lifeboat away from the sinking steamboat. With the blast the steamer twisted like a giant in final agony. While burning timbers flew around them, the men grabbed for the oars.
Crystal watched flaming debris hailing out of the black cloud of smoke. Another lifeboat broke free as a column of steam rose from the river, hiding the sinking hull.
“Crystal,” Joseph’s gentle shake and worried eyes caught her attention. “It’s going to be fine. See? There’s a boat right here. They’re coming to pick us up.”
Chapter 19
Late one morning, when Olivia went down the stairs to the main deck for breakfast, she was surprised to find Alex and Matthew there. They were the center of attention. With their chairs tilted back and their feet resting on the woodpile, the Negro men surrounded them, listening to the conversation.
Olivia saw the nods and smiles from the black men before she was close enough to hear the conversation. But when she asked, “Politics before my breakfast?” The chairs came down and the men stood. “Who’s piloting the boat?”
“Caleb,” Alex answered. “And good morning, Olivia. Your porridge and eager pupils are waiting. I picked up more paper when we stopped at Pagoussa.”
“You did?” Caught by surprise, Olivia cried, “How thoughtful of you!” She saw Matthew’s grin and the flush on Alex’s face. Embarrassed, she rushed on, “Well you needn’t deny you do have a heart once in a while,” she said indignantly. “Must you act so tough? Or is that part of the role of a riverboat captain?”
“Yes, Ma’am,” he said with a grin. He waved at the chair, “Please, I’ll be just as much at home on a log. Matter of fact, Matthew and I need to check the charts.” The two started for the stairs.
Later when Olivia walked into the cabin, Alex was pounding the table. “I know what Wise said about Fremont, but this talk has been going on for years. Back in July of 1850, South Carolina and Mississippi were talking secession. In fact, as far back as the twenties there’s been talk. And when the Southerners aren’t talking, the Northerners are. It’s just simply this: If you scratch the dirt away you always get back to the slavery issue.
“Don’t forget, the Republican party was the baby of the abolitionists. But the Kansas-Nebraska Bill did more to split the Democratic party than the abolitionists did by creating the Republican party.”
Alex poked the paper in front of him. “The bill threw open the whole country to slavery. Popular sovereignty—the right of states to decide the slavery issue—was Douglas’s answer specifically to Missouri’s demand that Kansas be opened to slavery.”
“It can’t truthfully be blamed on the economy. Right now, the lowlanders can’t say they are suffering,” Matthew said. “It is the Piedmont area that is suffering. Economically it has affected them in numerous ways. Also, it’s obvious the tidewater plantations are prospering.”
“But they won’t continue to prosper if they don’t have their slaves.”
“Fremont didn’t do poorly at all, considering it was a new party,” Matthew said. “He won one hundred and fourteen electoral votes against Buchanan’s one hundred seventy four. It should be better next time!”
“You think he will run again?”
“Wouldn’t surprise me.”
“And believe me, the Southern Democrats are nervous,” Alex muttered. “They see signs that will have them redoubling their efforts in 1860.”
Matthew glanced at him, soberly saying, “Redoubling? I’ve been hearing enough in the past months to make me think that one more election, regardless of who the man is, will either sink or swim the South. Republican spells abolition, and abolition spells the end of slavery. You know as well as I do that since 1854 the Republicans’ cardinal issue has been opposing slavery.”
“Douglas wants to be president badly, but the North is starting to come alive, and he’s partly responsible, even though it was unintentional.” Chuckling, Alex swung around and saw Olivia.
At that moment the boat’s whistle began blasting—long, loud, and repeatedly. Alex and Matthew jumped to their feet shouting, “Let’s go!”
They charged through the door and up the stairs while Olivia watched. She had taken one step through the door when she heard the distant boom, followed by the smack of air against her face.
“Distress, distress—steamboat explosion!” The cry came from the pilothouse. “Full steam ahead! Attempt rescue; get as close as possible.”
Olivia ran to the rail. Against the horizon she could see the plume of steam and the deadly flames reaching out from a black center.
Matthew sprinted down the stairs. His face was grim and colorless. “Olivia, come with me!” He took the stairs down to the main deck. “Men, shove that wood in as fast as you can! Full steam. We’re going to attempt rescue.”
He turned and waved at the line of black faces. “All of you will have to go to the staterooms. Remember the drill? Build the barricade of cotton bales. And when we stop, keep absolutely quiet, with the portholes closed.” He added, “I know it will be uncomfortable, but your lives may depend on it.”
Olivia watched the people stream toward the top deck.
Tandy turned. “Oh my, the pot!” She ran back to the stove, shoved the trenchers and spoons into the oven, seized the simmering pot, and headed for the stairs.
Matthew said, “We only have one boat. Prepare to launch it.” Olivia caught her breath. At her blank look he impatiently said, “You don’t have to do anything except get the trash out of it. Find all the rope you can and coil it beside the rail. There’s some in the cabin.”
By the time Olivia had finished her task the deck was beginning to shudder. She leaned back to look at the smoke erupting from the chimney. The whistle gave another series of sharp blasts and she turned to the rail. In the distance, another steamboat larger than theirs was headed downriver toward the flaming mass.
Olivia shaded her eyes and studied the wrecked vessel. Was that white spot a boat being lowered? Moments after the boat touched water there was another explosion. In horror, Olivia watched the damaged hull flame anew, twist in the water, and slowly begin to sink.
“Alex!” she screamed. She flung herself up the stairs and burst into the pilothouse. “Do something, oh please, do something!”
Matthew pulled her away. The wall of the pilothouse vibrated under her hand, and the blast of smoke and hot air sweeping through the open pilothouse struck her face. She choked on the smoke and struggled out of Matthew’s arms. “I’m—what can we do? Are we slowing down?”
“Yes,” Alex said grimly. “The other boat has reached them and they’re just standing by.”
“What does that mean?”
Matthew looked down at her. “Waiting.”
“I think one lifeboat did make it away.” Alex’s voice was tense. “It’s heading this way. Matt, man the rail.”
Matthew ran down the stairs with Olivia behind him. When they reached the rail they could see the little boat bobbing through the turbulent water.
Matthew said, “I think the other paddlewheeler has found survivors too; they’ve changed course.”<
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“Yes!” Olivia exclaimed. “See, there’s another lifeboat.”
“Alex is changing course,” Matthew said. “He’s preparing to reverse the paddles.”
Olivia exclaimed, “Oh look, the boat is full of people! Where will we put them all?”
“We’ll worry about that later.” Matthew put the rope ladder over the side. As the boat glided close, Olivia looked down into exhausted, terrified faces covered with grime.
“We’ve got you; you’re safe!” Matthew called as he went over the side to help the scared people in the lifeboat. “Toss a rope and I’ll pull them close,” Matthew yelled back.
Olivia was able to find one and tossed one end down to Matthew. He worked quickly to get the passengers onto the boat. The first person coming over the rail was a portly gentleman, smudged with smoke but still wearing his bowler hat. “Name’s Jamison Henders. Fortunate that you were in the vicinity.” He wiped his face with a handkerchief and whacked his hat against the rail. Regarding it ruefully he said, “It could be worse. I nearly came hatless.”
Olivia turned back to assist a woman coming over the rail, a bundle of smoke-stained froth. Olivia gasped, “It’s a wonder you didn’t become a torch!”
The woman tossed blonde ringlets out of her eyes and managed a smile. “I think my voice is gone forever.”
Her begrimed companion lifted an identical ringleted head and said, “Amelia, it is your fault. You screamed like screams put out fires. But at least you alerted us.” The woman shuddered and lifted her face skyward. “Oh, Lord! You have most graciously smiled on us all!”
A black man crawled over the rail and turned with a hoarse whisper to the last person to come over, “Missy, let me help you.”
The woman extended her hand and he lifted her over the railing. She turned, and Olivia gasped, “Crystal! I can’t believe it. It’s Crystal Cabet!” She threw her arms around her friend and led her away from the rail. Hugging the trembling girl again and wiping the tears from her own eyes, Olivia murmured, “Oh, my dear friend! I thought I would never see you again, and here we are in the middle of the Mississippi River!”
Crystal winced. “You’ll never know the reality of your statement. Oh, Olivia, it has been so horrible! The explosion. Some people were blown against the sides of the ship. I saw—” Abruptly she began to tremble.
Olivia grasped her arm. “There, that is enough. Let’s go and I’ll get everyone warmed up.”
The man in the bowler hat elbowed the colored man aside, and with the grimy dancehall girls followed them all.
****
Seated around the crude table close to the stove, everyone except Jamison sagged against the table and waited for tea. Soon another couple joined them and Crystal gave the woman her seat. Joining Olivia at the stove, she attempted a smile. “I need to work anyway. Where will I find mugs?”
Olivia reached for the oven door and paused. She remembered Tandy had shoved the crude trenchers and spoons into the oven along with the mugs. She saw Crystal’s puzzled frown. Quickly she moved her away from the door, pulled out the mugs and handed them over to Crystal. “What are you are doing here in this terrible boat?” Crystal asked. “Do you always cook down here in this woodpit? And do you always store your pans and mugs in a hot oven?”
“Oh,” Olivia stared helplessly at Crystal. Dropping her voice she said, “Please, I’ll tell you later—maybe.” Matthew and Alex came down the stairs.
“Crystal, you remember the night I tried to introduce you to my brother, Matthew? Matthew—” Impatiently Olivia turned. Matthew was frankly staring at Crystal.
He blinked, frozen for a moment, then bent over Crystal’s hand. “Olivia, you didn’t tell me that your Crystal is the loveliest woman on earth. If you had, I would have torn down Miss what’s-her-name’s hallowed halls to meet her. Miss Crystal Cabet, we are honored. May I bring you the rocking chair and some tea?”
“Not the rocking chair.” She tried for a smile. “I’ve had all—”
She sagged and Olivia wrapped her arms around Crystal. “Matthew, where do we find more tea?”
Alex joined them. “Miss Cabet,” he said. “I can’t believe my eyes.” He looked at the group around at the table. Olivia saw him stiffen and glance quickly at her before moving to the table.
“Mr. Jamison Henders, I believe. I met you in New Orleans a month or so ago. At the office of shipping regulations. I understand you are on the board of regulations for river patrol. A most unfortunate accident. I suppose you will be wanting to return to New Orleans as quickly as possible.”
Olivia watched the man while Alex talked. The sharp eyes had grown increasingly alert as Alex spoke. Now the man thoughtfully said, “Yes, I do need to return to New Orleans. Perhaps you can take me to St. Louis.”
Alex shook his head. “I’m an independent packet. Headed up the Ohio with cargo. Unfortunately, I can’t accommodate you without inconveniencing my customers.”
“What’s your cargo?”
“Well, I’m carrying some cotton. There’re several other miscellaneous items. Care to check it out?”
Henders shook his head. “What’s the best you can do for me?”
“Knowing we were overloaded, my mate is signaling the City of Troy to come around.” Alex turned to address the other passengers. “As you can see, we are very limited in accommodations. There’s cargo in the cabins. I will be happy to transfer as many as possible to the City of Troy. She is bound downriver. If you feel you must continue on, I can deliver you to Cincinnati within two weeks, the Lord willing. You will need to share very crowded quarters.”
“I will pass on the crowded quarters, and transfer to the City of Troy.”
The middle-aged man cleared his throat. “My name is McAnders. My wife and I appreciate your help. We will also transfer to the City of Troy.”
“Me too,” echoed one of the dancehall girls. She turned to her companion. “Come on, Amelia, there’s no money in this dump.”
Amelia stirred, looking confused and uncertain. “I—I think I would like to go to Cincinnati.”
“Cincinnati, Ohio,” Crystal Cabet said slowly, “Why, we’re—I’m going that way. If I may, we’ll just stay with you.”
The whistle gave a long, sharp blast. “City of Troy is coming around,” Alex said.
McAnders got to his feet. “By the way, what’s the name of this ship?”
Alex paused with his foot on the step. “Golden Awl.” He looked at Olivia, hesitated, and then ran up the stairs.
****
After the final passenger had transferred to the City of Troy, Olivia and Crystal stood at the rail, watching the steamboat move away from them. “That beautiful boat is like a dream isn’t it?” Crystal said. “Floating along with all those lanterns bobbing and reflecting first off the white latticework and then sparkling off the water.” She caught her breath, “That’s how our boat looked until today.”
Quickly Olivia hugged her. In a moment she said, “And as silent as a dream drifting away.” Olivia turned to smile at Crystal, to touch her hand in sympathy. “I’m so sorry you’ve had such a difficult day; I know you must be exhausted. I think we need to go into the cabin and see what the captain has decided to do with all of us.”
“Oh, is that a problem?”
“Yes, and it’s all Alex’s problem.”
“Alex?” Crystal, looked around, and took a deep breath. Olivia noticed a touch of color had come back into her cheeks. “I scarcely recognized him. He seemed such an irresponsible youth that one time I met him. I remember him tipsy and laughing while all the instructors were perfectly horrified.” She paused and said thoughtfully, “Now he seems steady enough. But why does he wear that golden earring? It makes him look like a pirate.”
“I don’t know. I simply don’t understand him at all. He has changed to the point that now he is completely boring.”
“And what a strange name for a boat. Golden Awl. What does it mean?”
“Mean?” Oliv
ia replied slowly, “I don’t know; it’s probably just a flight of fancy, like the earring.”
“Will you two ladies join Amelia and me in the cabin? We need to discuss arrangements,” Alex said, grinning down at Olivia as she turned. She felt her face grow warm.
When they had crowded into the cabin and Alex had found chairs for the newcomers, he took his place beside the smoking lantern. With hands in pockets, and the lantern light making deeper shadows of his beard and striking light from the slender gold hoop in his ear, he addressed them.
“Unfortunately, since Mr. Jamison Henders is chief inspector for the river patrol, I was unable to be completely candid with you while he was with us. I sense that you are all people who can be trusted, if not to participate in my scheme, at least to hold our secret in confidence.”
He hesitated. Olivia watched Amelia as she leaned forward. The bored droop to her lips was disappearing as Alex talked. For a moment Olivia wondered if Alex himself interested the blonde woman.
Alex’s words sliced through Olivia’s thoughts. “The main cargo we carry is slaves bound for Canada. The cotton we carry is a convenient shield if by chance we are stopped for inspection.”
There was a slight gasp from Crystal. Alex looked at her and his face tightened. “As I said, you need not be considered a part of the scheme, or even condone my actions. If you are fearful, I will allow you to leave ship at the first port.”
He waited. There was only silence. Unexpectedly he grinned. “Now for quarters. Since the women outrank us, we men will sleep either in the pilothouse or on deck.” He saluted. “Goodnight, ladies.”
The door closed and the three women faced each other. Amelia said, “Olivia, I don’t believe you remember me. Nearly two years ago you traveled the boat I worked on. You were going east to school and I—” She sighed. “I guess I worked at a dead-end job which has just finished.”
She sat down and pulled off her shoes. “Funny thing. You think it’s the end of the world one minute and the next minute life is exciting with all kinds of possibilities. Transporting slaves? Sounds exciting. Guess I’m a do-gooder at heart, like that fella, Alex.”