more than a year ago. If anything were to happen to her, howwere they ever to reach their native shores, where wives and children,fathers, mothers, and sisters, were even now pining for the return ofthe absent sailors?
The bold, straightforward character of McBain was never so well seen asin times of emergency and danger, and then, too, the goodness of theman's heart shone forth. Our heroes' boat was among the first, if not_the_ first, to render assistance, after the terrible wreck of thecaptain's whale-boat, as described in the last chapter; and as soon asit was discovered that the _Trefoil_ was on fire, McBain had aninterview with the mate.
"A burning ship," he said, "is no place, sir, to convey wounded men to,nor dead either. Place them in my boat, they will receive everyattention on board our little craft. Meanwhile, you speed away to yourship, and presently we will follow you, bringing to your assistance allthe men we can spare from the _Snowbird_."
"God bless you, sir!" said the mate, much affected. "What a blessingthat your vessel was here! It shows me that He has not altogetherdeserted us, bad though our fortunes have been."
Out of the crew of the lost whale-boat, numbering eight in all,including the harpooner, the captain himself, and the coxswain, onlythree escaped intact, while three were killed outright, and theremaining two badly hurt, one having both bones of a leg broken, theother sustaining a grievous wound in the forearm. In solemn silence,and with all due respect, the captain and his two brave fellows who hadlost their lives were laid side by side on the quarter-deck, and theirbodies covered over with the Union Jack--the sailors' pall, for surelyit is meet and proper that the flag a man sails or fights under whilealive shall cover his poor body when life has fled, and ere yet it iscommitted to the cold, dark, fathomless ocean.
The wounded men were carried below, and placed in comfortable cotsbetween decks.
"I daresay," said McBain, "my duty for a time will keep me here by thesetwo poor fellows, though I would like to be hastening away to theassistance of that unhappy ship."
"Nary a duty, sir," said trapper Seth.
McBain looked up. Here was this tall, ungainly Yankee, with the lanternjaws and the iron fists, standing forth in quite a new light, namely,that of surgeon. He had stripped off coat and waistcoat and rolled uphis sleeves. Beside him stood little Magnus, holding in his two hands abasin of warm water, in which a sponge floated, holding under his arm abundle of hastily-manufactured bandages.
"Nary a duty!" repeated Seth. "I guess you'd better leave the woundedto the care of the two old 'uns here. Seth has done up more cuts andskivers in his time, than there are days in leap year. As for thebroken leg, we'll soon cooper that, won't we, Magnus?"
"That will we!" Magnus replied, cheerfully.
Nothing loth to be relieved of a somewhat unpleasant duty, McBain atonce called for volunteers, and was considerably surprised to be almostimmediately surrounded by every man in the ship except the man at thewheel.
"I didn't pipe all hands," he said, with a quiet smile.
However, he picked out twelve of the sturdiest of his fellows, and withthese in the cutter--he himself holding the tiller--he was soonalongside the _Trefoil_.
The pumps had been already manned and the hoses rigged, and two lines ofmen were ranged along the decks, drawing water in buckets from thestarboard and port sides. The smoke was spewing up the forehatch, thedecks were wet and slippery, and the men, stripped to the waist with theexception of their guernseys, were working away with such a will thatthe perspiration stood in beads on their arms, and trickled down theirsmoke-begrimed faces.
Something like a cheer arose when our heroes and their volunteers sprangon deck, and at once set about preparations for work. McBain beckonedthe mate aft, and a consultation was held, at which Rory, Ralph, andAllan were present.
Very much to his surprise, the captain of the _Snowbird_ speedilydiscovered that the mate of the _Trefoil_ had completely lost his head,as the saying is.
"This is a bad business, sir," McBain began. "Oh, it is dreadful--it isfearful!" cried the mate; "it is--it is--whatever shall we do?"
"We'll keep cool to begin with," said McBain; "nothing is to be gainedby hurry or excitement. Tell me this: How did the fire originate?"
The mate gave him a strange glance. "It is not for me to guess even,"he said. "There is one, perhaps, on board who could tell you."
"Then where did it originate?"
"Ah! that I can tell you," said the mate. "Among the coals--under thegalley in the hold. The fire is confined to that place now; but lookyou, sir! smashed up among those coals are the bodies of six pigs thatwe took out with us. For warmth on the voyage out they buriedthemselves among the coals, and were killed by the roll of the ship.Their bodies are, we know, cut into piecemeal and intimately mixed withthe coals. No wonder they burn!"
"But you are simply pouring water into the 'tween decks," said McBain;"you're not even sure if it be reaching the fire."
"I didn't think of that," said the poor confused mate. "But," hecontinued, "there is worse to tell you!"
"Go on, and quickly!" cried McBain. "What is the worse?"
The mate's reply was gasped out rather than spoken, and he turned aspale as death as he uttered the words.
"The magazine is not flooded, and it is close to where the fire israging!"
The blood sprang to McBain's cheek, the fire seemed to flash from hiseye, as he brought his fist down with a ringing crash upon the hatchway,near which he stood.
"What sinful folly!" he cried. "Call for volunteers at once. Call forvolunteers, I say, and flood your magazine, man!"
"Stay!" said the mate, now fully aroused, and regaining a little commonsense--"stay! You little know my men; they are not picked Englishmenlike yours, they are principally stevedores and fishermen. Did theyknow the magazine was not flooded it would be _sauve qui peut_. They'dtake to the boats and leave the _Trefoil_ to her fate. I have myselfbeen down below, and had to be dragged up through the smoke, fainting.Besides, it needs two hands, and I've no one to trust."
"But the danger is imminent; we may all be blown to pieces without amoment's warning," said McBain.
"See here, mate!"
It was Ralph who spoke--brave, quiet, English Ralph--and bravely andquietly did he speak, while his comrades looked on astonished.Courageous they all knew he was, in a fine old lazy Saxon fashion; butto see him stand forth in the hour of need, six feet and over of brawnystalwart heroism, ready and willing to lead a forlorn hope, took hisfriends aback.
"See here, mate. I'll go with you to flood the magazine. If it's onlythe smoke you fear, I know how to steer clear of that. I was at theburning of Castle Bryn Mawr, and gained an experience there that willlast me a lifetime. Come below with me quickly. Now get me towels anda basin of water. Thanks! now watch what I do. Your handkerchief,Rory; yours, Allan. See here now--with this tiny pair of scissors Ifirst cut two small eyeholes in the towel. Then I wet it in the water.Now I tear a handkerchief in two, and wet the parts and fold them intopads. Sit down, mate, sit down. One little pad I place at each side ofthe nose, the towel I bind firmly round the head and fasten behind.Now, mate, you can only breathe through the wet towel, and no smoke canharm you. Now, boys, here is the other wet towel and the pads, do thesame by me."
In less time than it has taken me to describe them, these simpleoperations were completed, and next minute Ralph was stepping manfullyforward to the forehatch, followed by the mate.
The latter seized the hose with his left hand, and took Ralph's lefthand in his own right. He could thus guide him, for the mate knew wherethe magazine lay, but Ralph could not. Then they disappeared.
The bucket-men had, at the mate's orders, ceased to work for a time, andtook their turn at the pumps to relieve the others. They stood quietlywith their backs to the bulwarks and with folded arms. Something theyknew was being done below--something connected with the safety of theship, and they were content.
Minutes, long minutes of terrible suspense t
o McBain and his two boys,went slowly, slowly by. Rory, who was passionately fond of Ralph,thought the time would never end, and all kinds of horrible fancies keptcreeping into his mind. But look--they come at last; the heroes come.They stagger to where their friends are standing, and Rory notices thatRalph's hands are sadly blackened, and that his finger-nails drip blood.It had been trying work. The magazine lid had fouled, and it took themfully five minutes to wrench it off, and five minutes more to flood thecompartment. But it is done at last, and safety, for a time at least,is insured.
And now to fight the fire, to flood the hold, without admitting too muchair to feed the flames.
McBain's proposal