The Iron Boys on the Ore Boats; or, Roughing It on the Great Lakes

by Percy F. Westerman

  CHAPTER XVI

  THROUGH THE ROCKY CUT

  FOUR long and two short blasts roared from the whistle of the"Richmond."

  It was the private signal of Captain Simms. The ship was bearing down onPort Huron and was at that moment at the mouth of the St. Clair River.The skipper stepped to the door of the pilot-house with megaphone inhand.

  "This is where I live," he explained. "My wife always comes out to seeme as we pass. See the light there, in that cottage on the river bank?Well, that's where I live when I'm not steamboating. There she comes."

  Through the moonlight Steve saw a woman running down to the edge of thewater.

  "How are you, John?" called her pleasant voice through a megaphone.

  "I'm well; how are the folks?"

  "They're all well."

  "Any news?"

  "Nothing except that Betty has six pretty white chickens and she'sterribly cross."

  "Put her in the soup," suggested the captain.

  Just then a little white-robed figure appeared at an upper window of thecaptain's home. In her hand the little one also held a megaphone. Itwas the captain's twelve-year-old daughter, Marie, the apple of his eye.

  "H-e-l-l-o P-Pa-pa-a-a," came the greeting in a childish treble.

  "Hello, Marie!" bellowed Bob Jarvis from the rail aft of the bridge.

  "Who are you? I don't know your voice."

  "I'm Bob Jarvis, but you don't know me."

  "Hello, Bob. Yes, I do. My papa wrote to me about you. Where's Steve?"

  There was a laugh that rippled from one end of the deck to the other.

  "Never mind him; he is steering the ship. When are you coming out withus? Come along and we'll have a lot of fun."

  "I don't know. When Papa says I may. When may I come, Papa? And youhaven't said a word to me yet. You'll be gone in a minute."

  "How could I? You haven't given me a chance to get a word in edgeways.Port your helm a little," he added, in a lower voice to Rush.

  "Port a little," answered Steve.

  "When, Papa?"

  "Perhaps the next trip. I will send you a letter from down the line.Jennie, can you go back with us if I stop for you on the up trip?"

  "I'll see. If I can do so I'll run up the red flag on the staff. If yousee that you may stop. If not, you will know we can't get away thattrip. I've got to attend to my early canning, you know."

  Captain Simms grumbled something outside the megaphone, that soundedsomething like, "Shoot the canning!"

  "Good-bye," came two voices, sounding faint and far away on the softnight air, one being a woman's voice, the other the thin, childishtreble of a little girl.

  "Head on that bright light low down there," directed the skipper, with alast lingering look back toward his home. "That's the worst of thisbusiness. A fellow gets about a five-minute look at his home and family,once a month or so. I'd rather be sitting on my front porch to-nightthan steering a ship through this rocky river."

  "Is that a light-house that I am steering for?"

  "No; that's an inspector's cabin. Starboard some."

  "Starboard some," repeated the helmsman.

  "All ships have to report as they go by. You will hear him call when weget abreast. Those fellows never seem to sleep."

  "It must be a lonely life for a man out there."

  "It is, and----"

  "Ship ahoy. What ship is that?" bellowed the inspector through hismegaphone.

  "'Richmond' from Duluth with ore."

  "The what?"

  "'Richmond'!" roared Bob from the lower deck.

  "I don't catch it."

  "Six o'clock," howled Jarvis with his hands to his mouth, at which therewas a loud laugh from the ship's company.

  "Steamer 'Richmond,'" shouted the captain. "Why don't you open yourears? Think we can stand here yelling like wild Indians all night?"

  The inspector did not answer. From past experience he realized thefutility of an argument with a lake captain.

  "This is the most dangerous navigating of any place on the lakes, Rush,"said the skipper. "The bottom of our ship is only three feet from thebottom of the cut at this minute. Swerving six feet either to the rightor left out of our course would put us hard and fast on the rocks. Weshould block the channel besides running the risk of breaking the ship'sback. Steady!"

  "Steady, sir."

  "Remember, I am talking to the rudder. I keep that rudder in my mindevery second of the time. I can see its every movement. I don't knowthere is such a thing as a steering wheel when I'm navigating like this.Port a little."

  "Port a little, sir."

  "Now head for that range light up on the hill there. This cut, known asRock Cut, was built by the government at great expense. Hold your courseas you are until you round the bend in the cut there, then head on a redlight that you will see high up on the rocks. Get your funnel back therein range with the white light on the hill you see to the left. You willbe exactly in the channel then. Keep in the middle. I have to go to mycabin for a moment. I think I can trust you. Remember, the channel isnarrow and you must keep well within it."

  "I will, sir."

  Steve was left alone in the pilot-house. As he was steering by rangeguides alone, now, he did not have to watch the compass. All the windowsof the pilot-house had been let down so that he had an unobstructed viewall around.

  "I'm running the ship," breathed the lad. "I don't know who's taking thebiggest chance, myself or the captain."

  Though the Iron Boy felt the responsibility of his position, he couldnot help the little thrill of triumph that ran through him. He was farup in the air with no one save the watch down in the forepeak near him.The night was bright and glorious, the most peaceful scene he had evergazed upon. But Rush did not devote much thought to the peacefulness ofhis surroundings. His mind was too thoroughly centred on his work.

  The "Richmond," sailed majestically around the bend in the cut, Steveglancing back over the decks to see that his funnel was coming in linewith the range indicated by the captain. As Rush looked ahead throughthe open pilot-house window again his heart fairly leaped into histhroat. Two eyes, one red the other green were blinking at him right inhis path dead ahead.

  "It's a ship!" he exclaimed. "I don't dare pass it here. I don't knowwhether there's room or not. What shall I do?"

  The Iron Boy's quick mind solved the problem in a flash. Springing tothe pilot-house telegraph he swung the indicator over to the words,"Half speed astern."

  The ship began to tremble under the impact of the reversing propeller.Grasping the whistle lever Steve blew five short, sharp blasts, thentaking his place at the wheel he calmly kept the vessel in her course,the other ship bearing down on him whistling as if the whistle lever hadbeen wired down.

  The reversing of the propeller had not been lost on Captain Simms. Heknew instantly what it meant when he felt the trembling of the vessel.Then came the danger signal--five sharp blasts on the whistle.

  The captain was out of his cabin on the run taking the stairway to thebridge three steps at a time. By this time Rush had thrown the telegraphindicator over to "full speed astern." He was watching the stern to seethat it did not swing out of the channel, then turning to see what thevessel ahead of him was doing.

  What had caused him to so suddenly reverse the propeller was not so muchthe narrowness of the channel, but rather a light that was placed wellout from the shore line on his side. It was a white light, and, while hedid not understand the meaning of it, he knew that it had been placedthere as a warning to ships to keep well outside of it.

  The other boat was coming to a stop also, but by the time Captain Simmsreached the pilot-house the bows of the two ships were so close togetherthat it seemed as though they might crash together. One swift,comprehensive glance told the captain everything. He noted that hisvessel was reversing, that the pilot was keeping her in the channel andthat the other ship was coming to a stop.

  Without a word to Steve he grasped his megaphone and sprang to thewin
dow.

  "Choke her down, you fools! Do you want to run us under?"

  "Get out of the way yourself! Why didn't you blow your whistle? You sawthat buoy there. You have seen it for the last half hour. You knew youought to have given warning before you got into the cut here."

  "What does that buoy mean?" demanded Captain Simms.

  "A coal barge was sunk there this morning."

  The two vessels met with a heavy bump that set everything rattling onboard both ships, but the shock was not sufficiently severe to do anydamage to either.

  "Back up, you fellows, unless you want us to push you out!" commandedCaptain Simms.

  In the meantime, after the shock, Steve had stepped to the telegraph andswung the indicator to the word "Stop!"

  The two captains hurled language at each other for the next two minutes,but the other skipper grew tired of it first. He gave the order toreverse propeller. The up-bound boat began to retreat slowly.

  "Slow speed ahead," commanded Captain Simms.

  The master was leaning from the pilot-house window, megaphone in hand,ready to roar at the other skipper at the first opportunity. But therewas no good excuse for him to do so. After backing down streamsufficiently to make passing safe, Captain Simms gave his whistle levera jerk, sounding one sharp blast, meaning that he would meet and passthe other vessel on its port side.

  The "Richmond" slipped by at a little higher speed than was safe, hersides scraping the paint off the other boat in spots.

  "I ought to report you, you lubber!" roared Captain Simms in passing."You ain't fit to command a mud scow. I've got a kid on this boat who'sa better captain, after half a cruise, than you'll be if you cruise allyour life."

  The captain jerked the telegraph indicator to "three-quarter speedahead" with such violence that it threatened to tear the indicatorchains from their hooks. Then he turned to Rush.

  "Steve, much obliged," he said. "That's the second time you saved theship. I owe you another one for that. Unless I am greatly mistaken,you'll be trotting around with a master's license in your inside pocketby the time you are twenty-one. Steady there."

  "Steady, sir," answered the boy at the wheel.