A HEAD WIND.
Chloe and Gertie were the only ones on the key not busily engaged in
removing the cargo of the Mermaid and such of her tackle as was of
sufficient value to warrant the labor. Even the cook of the tug joined
in this work, and the old woman had quite as much as she could do to
prepare the meals for this large party.
It was necessary to carry the goods to the water’s edge and then raft
them a distance of four or five hundred yards to where the wrecking
crafts lay at anchor. The men were divided into two gangs or crews, one
of which attended to the water portion of the transportation while the
others remained on shore, and Jake and Ben would have joined the first
party but for old Chloe’s emphatic protest.
“I’se gwine onto one ob dem ar’ little boats right away ef you an’ Ben
fool roun’ in de water,” she said when Jake proposed to “ship as one of
the raft crews.”
“What’s the matter, aunty?” the ex-cook of the Sea Queen asked in
surprise. “It can’t make any difference where we work.”
“I’se done gone got frou takin’ any resks,” the old woman replied
sagely. “Nobody ebber knows what’s gwine to happen, an’ I don’ wan’ ter
be lef’ here alone same’s I was on de Cymoon ship.”
It was useless for Jake to explain that there was no possibility that
either she or Gertie would be deserted. Chloe remembered only too well
the morning when she discovered that she was the only person left on
board the brig, and much against his inclination Jake was forced to
volunteer for the most laborious portion of the task--that of carrying
the hides across the hot sands.
The work which was thus begun continued without intermission, save
during the hours of darkness, until two o’clock in the afternoon of
the third day, when everything saved from the Mermaid was aboard the
wrecking crafts.
On that morning no one thought an attempt would be made to get under
weigh for Key West until the following day, even though the task was so
nearly accomplished; but before noon there was such a decided change in
the weather that the master of the tug and Captain Irwin held a serious
consultation.
The wind, which at sunrise was blowing gently from the northwest,
increased in violence each hour until it was half a gale by noon, and
there was every danger the lighter would be forced onto the shore
unless her position was changed. Such a catastrophe meant a total loss
of all the goods upon which so much time and labor had been spent, and
immediate steps were taken to avert the threatened danger.
The tents were rolled up at once. Ben’s legacy, which came to him with
the story of bitter suffering, was carried to the steamer in the box
where it had remained so long, and before the last of the wreckage was
loaded on the lighter, old Chloe and Gertie were notified that the time
for leaving Content Key had arrived.
This work of embarkation, which could have been so easily accomplished
a few hours previous, was now not only difficult, but, in the old
negress’ eyes, extremely dangerous, and nothing but Captain Irwin’s
sternly uttered threat that she should be left behind caused her to
make the slightest effort toward helping herself. Instead of a placid
sea the foam-crested waves were rolling inland with very nearly the
same fury as on the day after the norther, and the heavily laden vessel
was tossed about on them until the stout hawsers were strained to their
utmost tension.
A boat from the steamer was brought around to the eastern end of the
key, where the surf was least furious, and to this point Aunt Chloe,
Gertie, with the cat in her arms, Jake and Ben bent their steps, the
old woman declaring with many a groan and pious ejaculation that she
should never be able to reach the tug alive and safe.
“You won’t by standin’ here howlin’, that’s certain,” Jake said when
they were on the beach, and the sailors, knee-deep in the sea, eager to
conclude what they evidently considered a very disagreeable duty. “Ben
an’ I’ll swing you aboard in a jiffy if you’ll try to help yourself the
least bit.”
“I’se done gone gwine ter wait till de wind is frou blowin’,” and,
forgetting Captain Irwin’s threat, the old woman seated herself on the
sand with a grim look of determination written on her black features.
“You’ll have to wait a long spell if you don’t get aboard lively,” one
of the men shouted. “Our captain won’t fool ’round a great while with
the wind kickin’ up such a bobbery, an’ we’ve got to start mighty quick
or this trip will count for nothin’.”
It was as if Aunt Chloe had not heard a word, for she made no attempt
to change her position, and Jake said in a low tone to Ben:
“Take hold with me, lad, an’ never mind how much she yells.”
Then, before the old woman had time to understand what was being done,
Ben and Jake seized her much as if she was simply an unwieldy piece of
merchandise, and despite the shrill, vigorous screams, deposited her in
the stern of the small boat, where she sat bolt upright in silent wrath
until Gertie and the cat were taken aboard.
Not a word did she speak when, after tossing about on the angry-looking
waves nearly half an hour, during which both Gertie and Ben were
decidedly frightened, they arrived at the tug. Here a rope was fastened
securely under her arms, and as the little craft fell in the hollow
of the waves Aunt Chloe was pulled aboard like a big fish, her black
face alternately exhibiting the utmost alarm and anger, but not a sound
escaped her lips.
It was necessary to treat the children in the same manner, owing to the
heavy seas, and by the time this was accomplished the last of the cargo
had been transferred to the wrecking crafts.
The most inexperienced would have understood now that there was no
time to be lost. The steamer was dancing about like a cork, flinging
the waves high over her bow, or plunging into them until the deck
was awash, and straining at the hempen cables which held her to the
heavy lighter whose anchors were yet down. The hoarse panting of the
steam-pipes, the sharp cries of command, and the trampling to and fro
told the journey was about to be begun, and that no slight amount of
danger would attend it could be seen from the faces of all.
Chloe, Gertie, Ben and the cat had been given quarters in a tiny cabin
at the after part of the tug, and while the old woman remained seated
on the floor like a charcoal statue of fear, the two children clung
to the window-casing, for the violent plunging of the little craft
rendered it difficult to retain a standing position, looking out at the
sailors who were making every effort to get under weigh in the least
possible space of time.
The lighter had her regular crew of four men on board, and when both
hawsers were overhauled they set about raising the anchors, the tug
starting instantly the last one left the ground.
With a clank and jar, and mighty breathing of steam, the powerful
engines begun to do their work; but the strong head-wind which was
rapidly increasing to a full gale, as well as the heavy load behind,
prevented any very great speed. As a matter of fact both the watchers
in the cabin thought during the first ten minutes that it would be
impossible for the small steamer to drag the unwieldy craft away from
the reef; but slowly the two forged ahead, the waves dashing over and
against them as if determined that neither should escape their fury.
Captain Irwin was in the pilot-house, Jake remained in the cook-room,
and with Chloe terrified into silence, it seemed to Gertie and Ben as
if they were alone watching this conflict between the forces of nature
and man’s handiwork.
“If this grows any worse what will become of the tug?” Gertie asked,
trying hard to repress a shudder of fear. “The waves are coming over
her worse than they ever did over the Sea Queen.”
“It looks as if there was going to be a pretty bad storm,” Ben replied
cautiously, not caring to reveal the full extent of his anxiety; “but
I guess she’ll get through safe enough. You see a tug-boat is built
strong, an’ so long as her machinery holds she can go where the Sea
Queen wouldn’t have much show.”
The sound of the children’s voices so far reassured old Chloe that she
managed, despite the violent pitching and plunging of the steamer, to
make her way to one of the stationary arm-chairs, and after clambering
into this she was fully occupied trying to remain in the seat, a task
by no means easy of accomplishment when the tug would straighten the
hawsers with a snap and sudden stop that on two occasions sent the cat
rolling across the floor like a foot-ball.
Three hours passed and yet the two children remained at the window as
if fascinated by the scene, which grew more wild and tempestuous each
moment, and when the gloom of the coming night caused the laboring
lighter to look like little more than a shadow against the darker
background, Captain Irwin came into the cabin, greatly to Ben’s relief.
“Why don’t you light up here?” he asked cheerily as, after quite a
severe struggle, he succeeded in closing the door. “The storm won’t
seem so bad if you can’t look out on the water.”
“I never thought of lamps,” Ben said with a long-drawn sigh. “Gertie
and I were watching the lighter. Do you think this boat can tow her?”
“If the storm increases, as it threatens to do now, I’m afraid we shall
have to cast her adrift,” the captain replied in a low tone. “We are
only barely holding our own now, and a full head of steam on. With
more wind she would soon succeed in dragging us back to the shoals of
Content Key.”
“How will they get the crew off?” Gertie asked inquiringly.
“There is no possibility of doing that. If it becomes necessary to let
go the hawsers they must take their chances like any other sailors in a
storm; but we won’t talk about that until it has to be done.”
Then Captain Irwin lighted the swinging-lamp; but the tiny flame looked
anything rather than cheerful to the occupants of the cabin as they
thought of the four men who might soon be abandoned to their fate. Not
for an instant did their minds dwell upon the possible pecuniary loss,
which was as nothing compared with the sacrifice of human life.
Outside the wind shrieked and howled as if calling all its forces
together that a combined assault might be made upon the laboring
vessels. Now and then the waves would strike the panting tug a blow
which caused her to quiver from stem to stern, and then remain
motionless for a second like some frightened animal who seeks in vain a
way of escape from relentless enemies.
“How near have we got to Key West?” Gertie asked after a long pause.
“We’ve hardly started, my child. During the last two hours no headway
has been made, and our island is probably not more than ten or twelve
miles astern.”
“’Pears like we’se nebber gwine ter get away frum dat wuffless place,”
Aunt Chloe said, speaking for the first time since coming aboard so
unceremoniously.
“If we can hold our own to-night I reckon it will----”
The captain ceased speaking very suddenly, for at that instant a series
of piercing whistles was heard from the steam-pipe, and he knew it was
the signal agreed upon that the crew of the lighter might understand
they were to be abandoned.
An instant later the trampling of many feet sounded on the deck, and
Jake burst into the room, the wind slamming the door behind him with a
report like a pistol-shot.
“All our work is to count for nothin’!” he cried. “They’re goin’ to cut
the lighter adrift, an’ we can whistle for the salvage.”
“God have mercy on her crew!” Captain Irwin said devoutly as he went
on deck, and an instant later the sound of axes was heard as the heavy
hawsers were cut apart.
“Are those poor fellows to be left to drown?” Gertie asked with
quivering lip.
“We couldn’t help them if they were in the water this very minute,”
Jake replied, “but about the drownin’ part I ain’t so sure. If they’ve
got any sense, I don’t see what’s to hinder ’em from runnin’ up the
gulf. The lighter is loaded so deep that she won’t make a great deal of
leeway, an’ though I ain’t the sailor that I am cook, I’d know enough
to try a close-reefed mainsail an’ jib.”
Ben pressed his face against the glass in the vain hope of learning
what steps the abandoned men were taking to aid themselves, but the
gloom of evening and the smother of spray prevented him from seeing
even those who were at work just outside.
A decided change in the motion of the steamer as she plunged down one
wave and up another without that sickening, sudden halt which had
so impeded her headway, told that the unwieldy craft was no longer
towing astern. Unless an accident should happen to the machinery the
tug could ride out the gale in safety, but what would be the fate of
those who had been abandoned the little party in the cabin could only
conjecture. The shoals of Content Key were yet so near that the lighter
might strike before her crew were able to show the smallest piece of
canvas to the wind, and in that event their doom would surely be sealed.
It was a time when the most cheering words fail to give comfort, and
the four who twice previously had been tossed about on the gulf at the
mercy of wind and wave, remained silent and affrighted, waiting for the
night, which had but just begun, to come to an end.