Chapter 10. How Bruff Sounded The Alarm

________________________________________________
_ CHAPTER TEN. HOW BRUFF SOUNDED THE ALARM

It was turning-in time, and after a couple of sleepy yawns Mark went to the cabin to find that nearly everyone had retired for the night.

As soon as he had climbed upon his shelf he found that it was going to be one of those hot uncomfortable nights when pillow and sheet get ticklish and make the skin feel itchy. The air he breathed was stifling, and for a long time he lay awake listening to the rippling of the water against the sides of the ship. But at last he slept deeply and dreamlessly, to be awakened by a hand laid upon his shoulder.

"Mark, my lad. Hist! don't make a noise."

"What's the matter, Mr Gregory?"

"Nothing much, my lad; only that dog of yours is somewhere below howling dreadfully. I want you to come and quiet him."

"Won't he lie down when you speak, sir?" said Mark drowsily.

"No. Come: wake up my lad!"

"All right, sir!"

"Nonsense, boy! you're going to sleep again. Come, now, rouse up!"

"All--yes, sir, I'm awake," said Mark, springing out of his berth. "I'll slip on something and come."

"I'll wait for you," said the mate dryly.

It was a wise decision, for Mark was so confused with drowsiness that he dressed mechanically, and suffered himself to be led out on to the deck where the comparative coolness made him a little more aware of what was going on.

"Now, are you awake?"

"Yes, sir. Quite awake now, sir," said Mark wonderingly. "What do you want? Is the ship going down?"

"Nonsense, boy!" said the mate laughing. "Why, you sleepy-headed fellow, didn't you understand what I said?"

"That I was to get up?" said Mark.

"Yes, and quiet your dog. There, do you hear that?"

A long piteous howl now fell upon Mark's ears, and recalling how the dog had gone below, he concluded that the animal was eager to escape on deck, but after his experience in falling down the steps he did not care to attack them again.

"What a noise!" cried Mark, as the long persistent howl came up. "Has he got stuck somewhere in the cargo?"

"No; he could not be, I think. Hark, there's the monkey too."

An angry chattering sound came up, followed by another howl and an angry bark.

"There, go down and quiet him. The men in the forecastle can't sleep."

Mark, now thoroughly awake, went sharply to the hatchway and descended, wondering why one of the sailors had not been sent down to quiet Bruff, and of course ignorant of the fact that they had one and all declined to go and face him, for certain reasons associated with the sharpness of his teeth and strength of his jaws, while the mate felt that it would be an easier way of solving the difficulty to send down the dog's master than to go himself.

It was very dark below, and the dog's howl came once more as Mark took a lantern from where it was swinging.

"Why, where can he be? Here, Bruff, Bruff!"

Mark dropped the lantern with a crash, and the candle within it flickered for a moment and went out, as a horrible thought struck him, and turning back to the ladder he sprang up, and was about to shout, but his better sense prevailed, and he ran to where the first-mate stood by the bulwarks talking to one of the men.

"Well, have you quieted him?"

"Mr Gregory! Here! I want to speak to you," said Mark huskily.

"What, has he bitten you?"

Mark dragged at his arm, and as soon as they were on the other side, panted out in a low whisper:

"There's something on fire down below."

"What!" shouted the mate in his surprise and horror. Then recovering himself, and knowing the risks attending a scare, "Poor boy!" he cried aloud. "Well, we shall be obliged to have that dog shot."

This quieted the men, who were advancing, and they went back to their places, while Mr Gregory walked Mark slowly by him to the cabin-door.

"Are you sure you smelt fire?" he whispered.

"Yes, sir, and there is smoke coming out from between those lower hatches."

"If I go down to make sure the men will take alarm and there may be a rush," said the mate coolly. "Here, go and rouse up Morgan quietly. Don't say what's wrong. I want him."

"And my father?" panted Mark.

"Be cool, boy; everything depends on coolness now. I'm going there."

In two minutes the captain and second-mate were out on deck, and Mark caught a glimpse of a pistol in his father's breast, and saw him slip two into the officers' hands.

"Gregory, Morgan," he said, "you stop with the men. You, Gregory, with the watch; you, Morgan, keep guard over the forecastle hatch."

"Ay, ay, sir."

The next minute the captain was below, Mark following him, and he heard him utter a deep sigh, almost a groan.

"Is it fire, father?" whispered Mark.

"Yes, my lad, somewhere down in the hold. Heaven help us! we are in a sore strait now. Who first noticed the fire?"

"It was Bruff, father; he is howling now."

"Poor dog! he must not be burned to death. Go and try and find him; but if you find there is any smoke or strange smelling vapour, come back at once."

"Yes, father."

"No, stop; I'll go with you. Where is the dog?"

"Somewhere below."

"Then he must wait. I have the ship and people to try and save."

"Then let me go, father."

"Well, go, my boy, and Heaven be with you."

The necessity for risking his life was put aside, for there was a scuffling of feet over the deck, and the dog came up whining and then tried to go back. Mark called to him, but it was of no use, and he rushed back a little way, barking now fiercely.

"I can't let him go," said Mark hoarsely, and he dashed after the dog; but before he had gone a dozen yards he kicked against something soft, and fell down, but only to scramble up again, for the mystery of the dog's behaviour was explained. His companion the monkey was half overcome by the vapour arising from the fire in the hold, and had crawled, it seemed, part of the way toward the hatch and then sank down, the dog refusing to leave him till he heard voices.

Mark dragged the poor, half inanimate animal to the hatch and carried him on deck, Bruff barking loudly till they were on deck, where a scene of excitement was rapidly growing.

"Silence!" the captain roared as Mark reached his side. "No man is to go near a boat save those who are picked out. Listen, my lads, and you gentlemen as well. I will have discipline observed. And mind this: I'm going to extinguish this fire and save the ship if possible. If it proves to be impossible we'll take to the boats."

"When it's too late," shouted one of the crew.

"No; when it is necessary. Mr Morgan, take three men and the passengers, and put provisions and water in the boats with compasses, and lower them down ready. As soon as each boat is ready place one of the gentlemen armed by her, and he is to shoot down any man who turns coward and rushes for the boats before orders are given. Now, sir, you have your orders. Go on."

"Ay, ay, sir," cried the second-mate. "Widgeon, Small, Smith, this way. Now, gentlemen, quick!"

There was a rush to follow the mate, while the rest of the men on deck stood in a knot whispering and excited, for the smell of burning now grew plainer and plainer, and a dense fume rose from the hatch.

"Now, Gregory, have up the men from the forecastle. Did they hear what was said?"

"Ay, ay, sir," came in a chorus as the men came scrambling up.

"But, captain--the ladies," cried Major O'Halloran excitedly.

"Well, sir, they will behave like English ladies should," said the captain loudly. "My wife will have charge of them, and they will be ready to go down to the boats slowly and in order. Mark, my boy, go to your mother's side and help her in every way you can."

Mark ran to where his mother was standing with Mrs O'Halloran and Mary, all half-dressed and trembling.

"I heard what your father said, Mark, my boy, and we are going to be calm. You can go back and help."

Mark ran back, to find his father giving orders sharply, but in as cool and matter-of-fact a manner as if there was no danger on the way. The pump handiest was rigged with the fire hose attached, and another was being got ready for supplying the buckets with which the men were preparing to deluge the flame.

"Now, Gregory, I must stay on deck. Go down and haul off the hatches. Find as near as you can where the fire seems to be before you begin to work. Remember one gallon well placed is worth five hundred thrown at random."

"You may trust me, Captain Strong," said the mate quietly. "Now then, two men--volunteers. Go down on your hands and knees as soon as we are below, and you will not feel the smoke."

The mate disappeared down the main hatch, and the men stood panting to begin, buckets filled, the hose distended, and one of the sailors holding his thumb tightly over the hole in the branch.

As the men went down the captain drew a long breath, for he realised how difficult it would be to apply the water effectively. The lower deck was growing more dense with smoke moment by moment, and the men who were to direct the water upon the flames would be compelled to stand below in that stifling heat.

It was an awful time, and every soul there realised the horror of the position--a hundred miles from the nearest land, the vessel all of wood and laden with a fairly inflammable cargo, which must be well alight by now to judge from the tremendous fume.

The captain's manner and his orders, however, gave some confidence to the men, who, as they waited, saw one boat lowered and heard it kiss the water, while directly after preparations were being made for the lowering of another.

"That's right," said the captain cheerily. "We have plenty of boats, so there is nothing to fear. Now, Mr Gregory, how is it below?"

There was a faint reply, evidently from a distance, and then a rush was heard, and the two men came up blinded, choking, and coughing violently.

"Where's Mr Gregory?" cried the captain.

"Here!" was the reply, and the first-mate's head appeared above the coamings of the hatchway.

"Well?"

"I can make out nothing, sir," said the mate, setting down his lantern, "only that the smoke is rising all over."

"Can't you localise the place?"

"No."

"Up with the hatches, then, and let's have the water in," cried the captain. "You take the deck now, and I'll go down. Three fresh men here."

Half a dozen stepped forward and part were selected, for the discipline of the ship told, and not a man so much as glanced at the boats now.

"Axes," said the captain, "and as soon as we haul off some hatches pass down that hose, Gregory, and begin handing down the buckets."

"Are you going to stay below, sir?"

"Yes, for a spell," said the captain; and Mark felt a swelling sensation at his breast as he saw his father go down into that suffocating fume to risk his life.

At that moment a hand was laid upon his shoulder, and turning sharply it was to see that the major was just passing him, laden with provisions for the next boat.

"What a soldier he would have made, my lad!" said the major, and passed on.

"He could not have done anything more brave," said Mark to himself, "if he had been a soldier;" and he ran close to the hatchway as the buckets of water were being handed steadily down, while the pumps clanked heavily with the labour given by willing hands.

"Bravo, my lads!" cried Mr Gregory excitedly. "Cheerily ho! Now then."

The men uttered a tremendous cheer, and another and another, and for the next half-hour there was the clanking of the pumps, and the loud slushing noise of the water being thrown below, and the hiss and rush of the constant stream from the hose.

The next hatches were thrown open, risky as the proceeding was; but without a current of air through the ship it would have been impossible for those below to have kept on with their suffocating task.

For the first quarter of an hour the captain and those with him worked like giants, and then came up, to be relieved by the mate and others, those who had been below now passing the water.

But it was blind and helpless work, and when this had been going on for about three-quarters of an hour, and the toilers were getting exhausted by the heat and smoke, Mr Morgan came up and announced that the boats were all ready, and this set four strong men at liberty to help with the water.

The second-mate went down at once, and in a quarter of an hour was relieved by the captain, who came up in turn, looking more stern than Mark had ever seen before.

"I can't help feeling that we are wasting our energy," he said to Mr Morgan. "We are not making the slightest impression."

"I'm afraid not," said the officer addressed. "The fire is increasing."

"Yes; and at any moment it may burst forth with a roar, Morgan," whispered the captain; "but for heaven's sake don't show that we think so."

Another anxious quarter of an hour passed, and matters were evidently growing worse. The water was passed down into the hold with unabated vigour, the men working desperately, but the pillar of smoke which rose from the hold grew thicker and thicker and half hid some of the flapping sails, for now it had fallen quite a calm. From time to time Mark had been to his mother, who was trying, with the major's wife, to whisper hope and encouragement to Mary, the poor girl being horrified at the idea of having to leave the ship in an open boat. But at last there seemed to be no hope to whisper from one to the other. Men grew more stern as they worked with savage energy; and in spite of the time which had elapsed since the first alarm there had not been a murmur nor a whisper of going to the boats, which floated on either side and astern.

But the captain and the two mates knew that before long there must be a rush of fire up through the great hatch, that the sails would immediately catch, and then the masts and rigging would rapidly be a blaze from stem to stern.

Mark had just returned from one of his visits to the front of the cabin, where the helpless women stood gazing at the dimly-seen crowd about the hatch, going and coming, and blotting out the dim light of the lanterns placed here and there. He was close to his father as once Mr Gregory came up, blinded with the smoke, and half suffocated.

"I can't hit upon the place," he said angrily. "We're wasting time, Captain Strong, for the smoke comes up all over, and we have never yet touched its source."

"No," said the captain gloomily; "but we must persevere."

"Oh, yes, sir, we'll persevere; never fear for that."

"If I could only think of what would be likely to light by spontaneous combustion, it might help us."

"I can help you to that," said the mate.

"The fire's gaining fast, sir," said Small, the boatswain, coming up; "Mr Morgan says we must have more hands below."

A thrill ran through the men, and one of them threw down his bucket.

"It's labour in vain, captain," he said. "Better keep our strength for the oars."

"Take up that bucket, sir," roared the captain furiously, "or--"

He did not finish his sentence but took a couple of strides forward, and the man resumed his work.

"I give orders here," said the captain in a loud deep voice. "Now, Mr Gregory, what is it?"

"Matches. A chest or two must have been sent by some scoundrel described as something else, and the pressure or crushing in of the case has ignited them."

"That does not help us, sir," said the captain bitterly. "I want to know where they are."

"Matches--did you say matches?" cried a highly-pitched voice; and Jimpny dropped his bucket and started forward.

"Back to your work!" cried one of the men, but the captain stopped him.

"Yes, matches, my man," he said, for there was a faint hope that Jimpny might know something.

"There were chests of 'em down below where I lay," said Jimpny eagerly. "I could smell 'em strong all the time."

"Smell them?" cried Mr Gregory.

"Yes, sir, onion phosphory smell, you know."

"Hurrah!" cried the first-mate excitedly. "Axes, my lad, and lanterns. We know now."

Three men started forward, but the captain caught the axe from one and a lantern from another, and was about to follow the first-mate when an uneasy movement among the crew arrested him, and he handed the axe and light to Mr Morgan.

"You go down," he said. "I may be wanted here."

It was a wise resolve, for it stayed a rush to the boats just at the moment when a chance was left of saving the vessel.

The captain's stern presence was, however, sufficient to keep the men back; and as the pumping and carrying of water ceased, all stood irresolute, listening to the blows of hatchets and the breaking of wood below.

All doubt as to the right place being found was ended the next minute, for a lurid light shot up from the hatch, and a shout arose from the men, who would have rushed away in panic but for the captain's words.

"Pump! pump!" he roared; "now then, pass on that water."

The hiss and splash of water arose directly from below, showing that the well-directed stream was now striking the fire.

There was a cheer from below, too, which sent a thrill through them; and for the next half-hour the water was sent down with the energy of despair. Then despair began to give way to hope, for the glare from below was fainter; then it grew paler still, and at last nothing but a dense white blinding smoke came up; and directly after the two mates, Small, and a couple of men came staggering up, to fall on the deck exhausted.

"Major O'Halloran!" shouted the captain, handing him his revolver, "take charge here, sir, till these men recover. Now, my lads, we've nearly won. Two men to go with me below."

The captain sprang down, followed by Billy Widgeon and Jimpny, while, as the men cheered and went on pumping, Mark ran to the cabin to return with spirits to revive the exhausted men.

It was a good idea, followed out by Mrs Strong and the major's wife, who handed refreshments to all the men in turn.

Mr Morgan was the first to rise to his feet and try to go down again, but he was too weak, and staggered away from the hatchway.

One of the men started forward, but Mark was before him.

"If my father can live down there, I can," he thought; and he dropped down to crawl through the smoke beside the leather hose of the fire pump, and this led him directly to where his father was directing the nozzle of the branch down through the broken deck, a dim lantern beside showing that a pillar of smoke was slowly rising up and away from the captain.

"That you, Mark? Go and tell them to stop sending down buckets; the hose will do now. The fire is mastered, and--"

He did not finish his sentence, for his voice was choking and husky as Mark ran to the other hatch and climbed up with his message.

It was received with a tremendous burst of cheering, the men who had been handing the buckets dashing them down and seizing each other's hands, while others indulged in a hearty hug.

For the danger was indeed past, and at the end of an hour the men, who had been working in relays, were able to leave off pumping just as the dawn was beginning to appear in the east, while an hour later, when it was broad daylight, the sun rose upon a thin blue thread of steam rising from the hold, and disclosed a group of haggard-looking, smoke-blackened, red-eyed men, utterly worn out by their efforts.

But the ship was saved, and the captain said, "Thank God!" _

Read next: Chapter 11. How Jack Proved To Be An Impostor

Read previous: Chapter 9. How The Stowaway Stowed Himself

Table of content of Mother Carey's Chicken: Her Voyage to the Unknown Isle


GO TO TOP OF SCREEN

Post your review
Your review will be placed after the table of content of this book