Under the Star-Spangled Banner: A Tale of the Spanish-American War. Brereton Frederick Sadleir
rose high in the air, trembled violently as a sea struck her, and at once rolled heavily on to her beam ends.
"Good gracious! that will finish it!" exclaimed Hal. "Ah, what was that?"
A loud crash reached his ears, coming from the open door of the engine-room. He ran to the entrance and swarmed down the ladder.
Once more he was to see a sight that seldom meets the eye. The chief engineer had feared the effect of another roll, and though this one had lasted for only a few seconds, and the Mohican was now back in a more or less upright position, yet the sudden movement, the weight of so much metal thrown violently to one side, had proved too great a strain upon the fractured pillar. It had given way, and had carried the cylinders with it, the whole was bringing up against one of the massive ribs of the ship. One sharp angle, projecting beyond this support, had struck the steel plates and ripped them open.
A fountain of water spurted in as Hal reached the engine-room, swamping the place. Turning his eyes to other parts, he saw that the disaster was even greater than it at first seemed, for lying upon the floor were three greasers, while the "chief" was huddled at the foot of the broken pillar. At this moment Mr. Broom emerged from the stoke-hole.
"What a calamity!" he cried. "We are doomed. Nothing can save the Mohican. The next roll will shake those cylinders free, and then they will go through the side to the bottom, and we must follow. We are under-manned as it is, and now so many of our hands have been injured that we are helpless. What is to be done?"
He clung to the rail which surrounded the crank-pit, and looked despairingly at Hal.
"They are the same on deck," the latter answered. "The quartermaster told me that four of the hands had been swept overboard, while others had been seriously injured. But, wait. You want helpers, sir? Why not call upon the passengers? There are about forty aboard."
"The very thing!" cried the third engineer. "The work we want done can be managed by anyone with courage and muscle. Cut off, Marchant, and see what you can do. I shall be surprised if the whole lot don't volunteer to a man."
Hal at once darted up the ladder again, and, reaching the alleyway, turned to the right, and entered the big dining saloon. It was filled with ladies and gentlemen, the former reclining on the settees which ran round the side, while the latter were gathered in a group in the center discussing the probable fate of the ship. Hal at once walked up to them and dropped into a seat, for it was difficult to keep on one's feet owing to the movement of the ship.
"What is it? Has something more terrible happened?" asked a tall gentleman, who occupied the center of the group. "I suppose we must prepare for the worst?"
"No; I think not," Hal answered. "Gentlemen, I am sorry to have to bring you bad news. The propeller shaft broke, and before steam could be cut off the main support of the engines was fractured, and now the ship is in the greatest danger; for the cylinders have crashed against the side, and have made a large rent in the plates. If the wreck is not secured and the hole made tight, we shall certainly founder. The last roll the ship made completed the break."
"Then it is bad news!" exclaimed one of the passengers. "What will become of us all?"
"Wait; let us hear what this young fellow has to tell us," said the first speaker. "Perhaps he has something to propose."
"I have," Hal replied. "All our engine-room hands are injured, and we want help. Will any of the passengers volunteer?"
"Yes, here is one," exclaimed the tall passenger. "Here is a strong arm and a ready will. Command me, and I will do all that I can."
"And I, and I," came from each of the others in quick succession.
"You see that all are ready," said the first speaker, whose name was Mr. Brindle. "Now, what can we do?"
Hal thought for a moment before answering. Then he turned to the passengers and said:
"It is likely to be a long job, and therefore I propose that you divide into two parties – the first to commence work at once, and the others to come down in two hours' time. The first party had better bring all the blankets and bedding they can. We shall want something with which to stop the rent."
He rose from his seat, and staggered out.
"Well," said Mr. Broom, as our hero swung himself on to the floor below, "what luck?"
"They have volunteered to a man."
"I thought they would," was the satisfied answer. "But how are we to employ them? Tell you what, Marchant, some of the passengers will have to set to trimming. We've been taking coal from the starboard bunker, and this side is full, so that it will all have to be put over to the other. Will you boss the gang? I'm the only officer left down here, and most of the greasers have been hurt. I'll look to the engines, and will shear them up, if you'll take the other job."
"I'll do my best," said Hal. "Ah, here they come."
At that moment fifteen passengers began to descend the long ladder, each carrying a roll of blankets under his arm.
"Hallo, what's this?" the engineer exclaimed. "Bedding! What's that for?"
"I thought you'd want something to plug the rent," said Hal. "Don't you think it might do?"
"Do! Of course it will! Young fellow, you've a head on those shoulders. You're a puzzle. Do! Here, pile it all over by the dynamo; and let me thank you now, gentlemen, for the manner in which you have come forward."
"Not a bit of it," answered Mr. Brindle. "We're here for our own sakes as well as yours; though I own that we should have volunteered in any case. Now, what are we to do?"
"Put yourselves in his hands," said Mr. Broom. "He's shown that he has a head; he's got no end of pluck, too. Take your orders from him, and you'll be doing your very best for all hands."
He waved to the volunteers, and at once went to a group of stokers and greasers near by. Hal turned to the stoke-hole without a word, and, passing through the tunnel between the boilers, entered the place set aside for coal. It was divided down the center by a bulkhead, which reached from the floor to the deck above for the greater length of the bunker, but was cut down to a height of four feet some six yards from the door.
"Now, gentlemen," said Hal, "all this coal wants to be moved to the other side so as to check the list. I propose that a few toss the stuff down from above, while the others pitch it over the bulkhead."
A minute later all were engaged, plying the implements as if they had been accustomed to them and to no others all their lives.
"We'll have a breather now," said Hal, an hour after he and his comrades had set to work. "Let us have a five minutes' interval, and then at it again, for you will do better if you have a short rest."
The trimming gang stood there breathing heavily, and making the utmost of the respite. Some sat down upon heaps of coal, while others leaned against the sides, and placing their hands upon their hips, supported them there, as if their weight was too much for them.
"Time's up, gentlemen. We'd better set to again," said Hal.
"My hat, sir, but you are a stern taskmaster," cried Mr. Brindle, giving vent to a hearty laugh. "Here are we poor fellows ready to drop, and you give us a bare five minutes. But the lad is right. Gentlemen, think of the lives depending upon us."
An hour later the second batch of volunteers descended, and replaced the first, but Hal and Mr. Brindle remained at work.
All day long the two parties took it in turns to labor in the coal-bunker, and when night came, Hal was able to dismiss his gang, and inform Mr. Broom that the task was finished.
"Good!" exclaimed the latter. "Your fellows have worked like bricks, and have well earned a sleep. You, too, had better get one. Cut along up to your bunk, and leave this to me. I'm used to long hours, and will keep watch below. The Mohican is steering now. That sea-anchor is overboard, and we're able to keep fairly clear of water. Now, off you go."
He waved to the ladder, and Hal at once took his advice. He was, indeed, worn out with his labors, for all day long he had shoveled coal, till the skin was worn off his hands. Accordingly, he did not argue with the "third,"