"Mighty sorry. Don't any of us talk to him of his dog. What did he say?"
"Nothing. Turned a little pale, got up, and went out."
"Too bad! You didn't know, of course--wish I'd posted you."
"Then he DID have a dog?"
"Yes, belonged to that poor girl."
"What became of him?"
The first officer leaned over the table and rested his elbows on the
cloth, his chin in the palms of his hands. For some time he did not
speak. Outside I could hear the thrash of the sea and the slosh of
spent waves coursing through the deck gutters.
"You want to hear about that dog, do you?" he asked, straightening up.
"Well, I can tell you if any man can, but you're to keep mum about it
to the captain."
Again I nodded.
He fumbled in his outside pocket, drew forth a short pipe, rapped out
the dead ashes, refilled it slowly from a pouch on the table, lighted
it, and settled himself in his chair.
"I'll begin at the beginning, for then you'll understand how I came to
be mixed up in it. I saw that dog when he first came aboard, and I want
to say right here that the sight of him raised a lump in my throat big
as your fist, for he was just the mate of the one I owned when I used
to look after my father's sheep on the hills where we lived. Then,
again, I took to him because he wasn't the kind of a pet I'd ever seen
at sea before--we'd had monkeys and parrots and a bobtail cat, but
never a dog--not a real, human dog.
"He was one of those brown-and-white combed-out collies we have up in
my country, with a long, pointed nose that could smell a mile and eyes
like your mother's--they were so soft and tender. One of those dogs
that when he put his cold nose alongside your cheek and snuffed around
your whiskers you loved him--you couldn't help it--and you knew he
loved you. As for the captain--the dog was never three feet from his
heels. Night or day, it was just the same--up on the bridge, followin'
him with his eyes every time he turned, or stretched out beside his
berth when he was asleep. Hard to understand how such a man can love a
dog until you saw that one. Then, again, this dog had another hold upon
the captain, for the girl had loved him just the same way.
"And he had the best nose in a fog--seemed as if he could sniff things
as they went by or came on dead ahead. After a while the captain would
send him out with the bow-watch in thick weather, and there he'd
crouch, his nose restin' on the rail, his eyes peerin' ahead. Once he
got on to a brigantine comin' bow on minutes before the lookout could
see her--smelt her, the men said, just as he used to smell the sheep
lost on the hillside at home. It was thick as mud--one of those pasty
fogs that choke you like hot steam. We had three men in the cro'nest
and two for'ard hangin' over her bow-rail. The dog began to grow
restless. Then his ears went up and his tail straightened out, and he
began to growl as if he had seen another dog. The captain was listenin'
from the bridge, and he suspected somethin' was wrong and rang 'Slow
down!' just in time to save us from smashing bow on into that
brigantine. Another time he rose on his hind legs and 'let out' a yelp
that peeled everybody's eyes. Then the slippery, barnacle-covered
bottom of a water-logged derelict went scootin' by a few yards off our
starboard quarter. After that the men got to dependin' on him--'Ought
to have a first mate's pay,' I used to tell the captain, at which he
would laugh and pat the dog on the head.
"One morning about eight bells, some two hundred miles off Rio--we were
'board the Zampa, one of our South American line, with eighteen
first-class passengers, half of 'em women, and ten or twelve
emigrants--when word came to the bridge that a fire had started in the
cargo. We had a lot of light freight on board and some explosives which
were to be used in the mines in the mountains off the coast, so fire
was the last thing we wanted. Bayard--did I tell you the dog's name was
Bayard?--that's what the girl called him--was on the bridge with
Captain Bogart. I was asleep in my bunk. First thing I knew I felt the
dog's cold nose in my face, and the next thing I was on the dead run
for the after-hatch. I've had it big and ugly a good many times in my
life; was washed upon a pile of rocks once stickin' up about a cable's
length off our coast, and hung to the cracks until I dropped into a
lifeboat; and another time I was picked up for dead off Natal and
rolled on a barrel till I came to. But that racket aboard the Zampa was
the worst yet.
"When I jumped in among the men the smoke was creepin' out between the
lids of the hatch. We ripped that off and began diggin' up the
cargo--crates of chairs, rolls of mattin', some spruce
scantling--runnin' the nozzle of the hose down as far as we could get
it. There were no water-tight compartments which we could have flooded
in those days as there are now, or we could have smothered it first
off. What we had to do was to fight it inch by inch. I knew where the
explosives were, and so did the captain and purser, but the crew
didn't--didn't even know they were aboard, and I was glad they didn't.
We had picked most of 'em up at Rio--or they'd made a rush maybe for
the boats, and then we'd had to shoot one or two of 'em to teach the
others manners. In addition to every foot of hose we had 'board I
started a line of buckets and then rushed a gang below to cut through
the bulkhead to see if we could get at the stuff better.
"The men fell to with a will. Fire ain't so bad when you take hold of
it in time, and as long as there is plenty of steam pressure--and there
was--you can almost always get on top of it, unless something turns up
you don't count on.
"That's what happened here. I was standin' on the coamings of the hatch
at the time, peerin' down into the smoke and steam, thinking the fire
was nearly out, directing the men what to h'ist out and what to leave,
when first thing I knew there came a dull, heavy thump, as if we'd
struck a rock amidships, and up puffed a cloud of smoke and sparks that
keeled me over on my back and nearly blinded me.
"I knew then that the fire had just begun to take hold; that thump
might have been a cask of rum or it might have been a box of
nitro-glycerine. Whatever it was, there was no time to waste in
stoppin' the blaze before it reached the rest of the cargo.
"Captain Bogart had felt the shock and now came runnin' down the deck
with the dog at his heels. He knew I'd take care of the fire and he
hadn't left the bridge, but the way she shook and heaved under the
explosion was another thing.
"By this time the passengers were huddled together on the upper deck,
frightened to death, as they always are, the women the coolest in the
crowd. All except two little old women, sisters, who lived out of Rio
and who had been with us before. Fire was one of the things that scared
them to death, and they certainly were scared. They hung to the rail,
their arms around each other--the two together didn't weigh a hundred
and fifty pounds; always reminded me of two shiverin' little monkeys,
these two old women, although maybe it ain't nice for me to say it--and
looked down over the rail into the sea, and said they never could go
down the ladder, and did all the things badly scared women do, short of
pitching themselves overboard, which sometimes occurs. The captain
stopped and talked to 'em--told 'em there was no danger--his ears open
all the time for another let-go, and the dog nosed round and put out
his paw as if to make good what the captain had promised.
"The water was goin' in now pretty lively--all the pumps at work--the
light stuff bein' heaved overboard as fast as it came out. By dark we'd
got the fire under so that we had steam where before we'd had smoke and
flame. The passengers had quieted down and some of 'em had gone back to
their staterooms to get their things together, and everything was going
quiet and peaceable--this was about nine o'clock--when there came
another half-smothered explosion and the stokers began crawlin' up like
rats. Then the chief engineer stumbled out--no hat nor coat, his head
all blood where a flying bolt had gashed him. Some of her bilge plates
was loose, he said, and the water half up to the fire-boxes. Next a
column of flame came pouring out of her companionway, which crisped up
four of our boats and drove everybody for'ard. We knew then it was all
up with us.
"The captain now sent every man to the boats--those that would
float--and we began to get the passengers and crew together--about
sixty, all told. That's pretty nasty business at any time. They're like
a flock of sheep, huddlin' together, some wantin' to stay and some
crazy to go; or they are shiverin' with fright and ready to knife each
other--anything to get ahead or back or wherever they think it is
safest. This time most of 'em had got on to the explosives; they knew
something was up, either with the boilers or the cargo, and every one
of them expected to be blown up any minute.
"I stood by the rail, of course, and had told off the men I could
trust, puttin' 'em in two lines to let 'em through one at a time, women
first, then the old men, and so on--same old story; you've seen it, no
doubt--and had got four boats overboard and filled--the sea was pretty
calm--and three of 'em away and out of range of fallin' pieces if she
did take a notion to let go suddenly, when the dog sprang out of the
door at the top of the stairs leading down to the main deck, barkin'
like mad, runnin' up to the captain, who stood just behind me, pullin'
at his trousers, and runnin' back again. Then a yell came from the boat
below that one of the old women was missing: it was her sister. One
half-crazy man said she'd jumped overboard--he was crowdin' up to the
rail and didn't want to stop for anything--and another said she had
gone off in the first boat, which I knew was a lie.
"'Have you sent them both down?' asked Captain Bogart.
"'No, sir; only one,' I said--and I hadn't.
"Just then a steward stepped up with a bundle of clothing in his hand.
"'I tried to get her out, but she'd locked herself in the stateroom,
sir. It was all afire when I come up.'
"It took about two seconds for Captain Bogart to jump clear of the
crowd, run half the length of the deck and plunge through the door
leadin' to the main deck, the dog boundin' after him.
"I've been through a good many anxious minutes in my life, but those
were the worst I'd had up to date. He and I had been pretty close ever
since I went to sea. He's ten years older than I am, but he gave me my
first chance. Yes; that kind of thing takes the heart out of you, and
they were both in it. Hadn't been for the dog we wouldn't have missed
her, maybe, although the captain was keeping tally of the passengers
and crew.
"Three minutes, they said it was--more like three hours to me--I held
the crowd back, wondering how long I ought to wait if he didn't come
up, knowing my duty was to stay where I was, when the dog sprang out of
the door, half his hair singed off him, barkin' and jumpin' as if he
had been let out for a romp; and then came the captain staggerin'
along, his face scorched, his coat half burned off him, the woman in
his arms in a dead faint and pretty nigh smothered. The old fool had
locked herself in her stateroom--he had to break down the door to get
at her--cryin' she'd rather die there than be separated from her sister.
"We made room for the two--the half-crazy man fallin' back--and the
captain lowered her himself into the boat alongside her sister, and
then he sent me down the ladder behind her to catch the others when
they came down and see that everything was ready to cast off.
"I could see the captain now from my position in the boat, up against
the sky--he was the last man on the ship--holding the dog close to him.
Once I thought he was going to bring him down in his arms, he held him
so tight.
"Next time I looked he was coming down the ladder slowly, one foot at a
time, the dog looking down at him, his big, human eyes peering into the
captain's face, his long, pointed nose thrust out, his ears bent
forward. If he could have spoken--and he looked as if he was
speaking--he would be telling him how glad he felt at savin' the old
woman, and how happy he was that they'd all three got clear. My own
collie used to talk to me like that--had a kind of low whine when he'd
get that way; tell me about his sheep stuck in the snow, and the way
the--"
The first officer stopped, cleared his throat, shook the ashes from his
pipe and laid it on the table. After a while he went on. His words came
slower now, as if they hurt him.
"When the captain got half-way down the ladder I saw him stand still
for a moment and look straight tip into the dog's eyes. Then I heard
him say:
"'Down, Bayard! Stay where you are.'
"The dog crouched and lay with his paws on the edge of the rail. That's
what he'd done all his life--just obeyed orders without question. Again
I saw the captain stop. This time he slipped his hand into his
side-pocket, half drew out his revolver, put it back again, and kept on
his way down the ladder to the boat.
"Then the captain's order rang out:
"'Get ready to shove off!'
"Hardly had the words left his lips when there came another dull,
muffled roar, and a sheet of flame licked the whole length of the deck.
Then she fell over on her beam.
"'My God!' I cried; 'left that dog to die!'"
For a moment the first officer did not answer. Then he raised his eyes
to mine and said in a voice full of emotion:
"Yes; there was nothin' else to do. It's against orders to take animals
into life-boats. They take room and must be fed, and we hadn't a foot
of space or an ounce of grub and water to spare, and we had two hundred
miles to go. I begged the captain. 'I'll give Bayard my place,' I said.
I knew he was right; but I couldn't help it. 'Let me go back and get
him.' I know now it would have been foolish; but I'd have done it all
the same. So would you, maybe, if you'd known that dog and seen his
trusting eyes lookin' out of his scorched face and remembered what he'd
just done.
"The captain never looked at me when he answered. He couldn't; his eyes
were too full.
"'Your place is where you are, sir,' he said, short and crisp. 'Shove
off, men.'
"He will never get over it. That dog stood for the girl he'd lost,
somehow. That's the captain's bell. I'm wanted on the bridge.
Good-night."
Again the cabin door swung free, letting in a blast of raw ice-house
air, the kind that chills you to the bone. The gale had increased.
Through the opening I could hear the combers sweeping the bow and the
down-swash of the overflow striking the deck below.
With the outside roar came the captain, his tarpaulins glistening with
spray, his cap pulled tight down to his ears, his storm-beaten face
ruddy with the dash and cut of the wind. He looked like a sea Titan
that had stepped aboard from the crest of a wave.
If he saw me--I was stretched out on the sofa by this time--he gave no
sign. Opening his tarpaulins and thrashing the water from his cap, he
walked straight to the cage, peered in, and said softly:
"Ah, my little man! Asleep, are you? I just came down to take a look at
the chart and see how you were getting on. We're having some weather on
the bridge."