"Accident in the stoke-hold!" repeated the skipper, who of course did
not overhear the old boatswain's aside to me. "Accident in the stoke-
hold!" again repeated the skipper; "anybody hurt?"
"Yes, sir," replied the first mate in the same grave tone of voice.
"Mr Stokes and two of the firemen."
"Seriously?"
"Not all, sir," said the other, glancing round as if looking for some
one specially. "The chief engineer has one of his arms broken and a few
scratches, but the firemen are both injured, and one so badly hurt that
I fear he won't get over it, for his ribs have been crushed in and his
lower extremities seem paralysed!"
"Good heavens!" exclaimed the skipper. "How did the accident happen?"
"They were searching under the stoke-hold plates to get out some cotton
waste that had got entangled about the rosebox of the suctions, which,
as we found out, prevented the bilge-pumps from acting, when, all in a
moment, just when all the stray dunnage had been cleared out, the ship
gave a lurch and the plates buckled up, catching the lot of them, Mr
Stokes and all, in a sort of rat trap. Mr Stokes tumbled forwards on
his face in the water and was nearly drowned before Stoddart and I could
pull him out, the poor old chap was so heavy to lift, and he nearly
squashed Blanchard, the stoker, by falling on top of him as we were
trying to raise him up, cutting his head open besides, against the fire
bars. Poor Jackson, however, the other fireman, was gripped tight
between two of the plates and it was all we could do to release him,
Stoddart having to use a jack-saw to force the edges of the plates
back."
"My God! horrible, horrible!" ejaculated the skipper, terribly upset and
concerned. "Poor fellows; Jackson, too, was the best hand Stokes had
below!"
"Aye, sir, and as good a mechanic, too, I've heard them say, as any of
the engineers," agreed Mr Fosset, with equal feeling. "But, sir, I'm
losing time talking like this! I only came up for assistance for the
poor fellows and the others who are wounded. Where's Garry O'Neil?"
"Why, he was here under the bridge a moment ago," cried the skipper
eagerly. "Hullo, O'Neil? Pass the word up, men, for Mr O'Neil. He's
wanted at once! Sharp, look alive!"
Our second officer, it should be explained, was not only a sailor but a
surgeon as well. He had run away to sea as a boy, and, after working
his way up before the mast until he had acquired sufficient seamanship
to obtain a mate's certificate, he had, at his mother's entreaty, she
having a holy horror of salt water, abandoned his native element and
studied for the medical profession at Trinity College, Dublin. Here,
after four years' practice in walking the hospitals, he graduated with
full honours, much to his mother's delight. The old lady, however,
dying some little time after, he, feeling no longer bound by any tie at
home, and having indeed sacrificed his own wishes for her sake,
incontinently gave up his newly-fledged dignity of "Doctor" Garry
O'Neil, returning to his old love and embracing once more a sea-faring
life, which he has stuck to ever since. He had sailed with us in the
_Star of the North_ now for over a twelvemonth, in the first instance as
third officer and for the last two voyages as second mate, the fact of
his being a qualified surgeon standing him in good stead and making him
even a more important personage on board than his position warranted,
cargo steamers not being in the habit of carrying a medical man like
passenger ships, and sailorly qualities and surgical skill
interchangeable characteristics!
Hitherto we had been fortunate enough to have no necessity for availing
ourselves of his professional services, but now they came in handy
enough in good sooth.
"Mr O'Neil?" sang out the men on the lower deck, passing on his name in
obedience to the skipper's orders from hand to hand, till the hail
reached the after hatchway, down which Spokeshave roared with all the
power of his lungs, being anxious on his own account to be heard and so
released from his watch so that he could go below. "Mr O'Neil?" he
again yelled out.
Spokeshave must have shouted down the Irishman's throat, for the next
instant he poked his head up the hatchway.
"Here I am, bedad!" he exclaimed, shoving past Master "Conky," to whom
he had a strong dislike, though "Garry," as we all called him, was
friendly with every one with whom he was brought in contact, and was,
himself, a great favourite with all the hands on board. Now, as he made
his way towards the bridge, where some of the men were still singing out
his name, he cried out, "Who wants me, sure? Now, don't ye be all
spaking at once; one at a time, me darlints, as we all came into the
wurrld!"
"Why, where did you get to, man?" said the skipper, somewhat crossly.
"We've been hunting all over the ship for you!"
"Sure, I wint down into the stowage to say if the yolklines and chains
for the wheel were all clear, and to disconnect the shtame stayrin'
gear," replied our friend Garry. "But you'll find it all right now,
with the helm amidships, and you can steer her wheriver you like; only
you'll want four hands at least to hauld the spokes steady if she breaks
off, as I fear she will, in this say!"
"That's all right," cried the skipper, appeased at once, for he
evidently thought that Garry had gone back to his cabin and left us in
the lurch. "But I've bad news, and sorry to say, O'Neil, we want your
services as a doctor now. There's been a bad accident in the stoke-hold
and some of the poor fellows are sadly hurt."
"Indade, now!" ejaculated the other, all attention. "What's the matter?
Any one scalded by the shtame, sure?"
"No, not that," said Mr Fosset, taking up the tale. "Mr Stokes has
had his arm broken and another poor fellow been almost crushed to death.
He's now insensible, or was when I came on deck so you'd better take
some stimulant as well as splints with you."
"Faith, I understand all right and will follow your advice in a brace of
shakes," replied the second mate, as he rushed off towards the saloon.
"You'd better go on ahead, Fosset, and say I'm coming!"
With these parting words both he and the first officer disappeared from
view, the latter hastening back to the engine-room, while the captain
slowly mounted the bridge-ladder again and resumed his post there by the
binnacle, after placing four of the best hands at the wheel amidships
with old Masters, the boatswain, in charge.
"Ah, what d'ye think o' that now?" observed the latter to me, as I stood
there awaiting my orders from the skipper, or to hear anything he might
have to say to me. "I said as how summut was sure to happen. That
there ship--the ghost-ship--didn't come athwart our hawser for nothink,
I knowed!"
Just then there was a call up the voicepipe communicating between the
wheel-house on the bridge and the engine-room.
The skipper bent his ear to the pipe, listening to what those below had
to say, and then came to the top of the ladder.
"Below there!" he sang out. "Is Mr Spokeshave anywhere about?"
"No, sir," I answered. "He went off duty at eight bells."
"The devil he did, and me in such a plight, too, with that awful
accident below!" cried Captain Applegarth angrily. "I suppose he's
thinking of his belly again, the gourmandising little beast! He isn't
half a sailor or worth a purser's parings! I'll make him pay for his
skulking presently, by Jingo! However, I can't waste the time now to
send after him, and you'll do as well, Haldane--better, indeed, I
think!"
"All right, sir," said I, eager for action. "I'm ready to do anything."
"That's a willing lad," cried the skipper. "Now run down into Garry
O'Neil's cabin and get some lint bandages he says he forgot to take with
him in his hurry, leaving them on the top of his bunk by the doorway;
and tell Weston, the steward, to have a couple of spare bunks ready for
the injured men--in one of the state rooms aft will be best."
"All right, sir," said I, adding, as he seemed to hesitate, "anything
else, sir?"
"Yes, my boy; take down a loose hammock with you, and some lashings, so
as to make a sort of net with which to lift and carry poor Jackson.
He's the only chap badly hurt and unable to shift for himself, so O'Neil
says. Look sharp, Haldane, there's no time to lose; the poor fellow's
in a very ticklish state and they want to get him up on deck in order to
examine his injuries better than they can below in the stoke-hold!"
"Aye, aye, sir!" I answered, darting aft immediately, to avoid further
debation, towards the saloon door under the poop. "I'm _off_, sir, at
once!"
Here I soon got what the Irishman had asked for out of his cabin, and,
giving Weston his order about the state room, unslinging the while my
own hammock from its hooks and rolling it up, blankets and all, in a
roll, I kicked it before me as I made my way down the engine-room
hatchway as quickly as I could.
The machinery, I noticed when passing through the flat to the stoke-
hold, which was, of course, on a still lower level, was working away
pretty easily, the piston in the cylinder moving steadily up and down,
and the eccentric, which always appeared to me as a sort of bandy-legged
giant, executing its extraordinary double-shuffle in a more graceful
fashion than when we were going at full speed, as it performed its
allotted task of curvetting the up-and-down motion of the piston into a
circular one, thus making the shaft revolve; while Grummet, the third
engineer, who was still watching the throttle valve, hand on lever, had
a far easier job than previously, when we were running with full power
before wind and sea, and rolling and pitching at every angle every
minute.
But even in the fleeting glance I had passing by, the screw still went
round in a dangerous way when the stern of the vessel lifted, as some
big wave passed under her keel, in spite of all Grummet's precautions in
turning off steam and I could not help wondering how long the engines
would stand the strain, which was all the more perilous from being
intermittent.
On reaching my destination below, however, all thought of the machinery
and any possible damage to the ship was instantly banished from my mind
by the sight that met my gaze.
In the narrow stoke-hold, lit up by the ruddy glare of the furnace
fires, the light from which enabled me to see the brackish bilge water
washing about beneath the hole in the flooring and gurgling up through
the broken portplates there, I saw that a group of half-naked firemen,
and others, were bending over a pile of empty coal sacks heaped up
against the further bulkhead, dividing the occupied apartments from the
main hold, as far away as possible from the blazing fires, on which one
of the stokers on duty pitched occasionally a shovelful of fuel, or
smoothed the surface of the glowing embers with a long-toothed rake.
I couldn't distinguish at first any one in particular, the backs of all
being towards me as I came down the slippery steel ladder, carrying the
hammock, for I had taken the precaution of hoisting it on my shoulders
on leaving the engine-flat above, in order to prevent its getting wet,
while the noise of the machinery overhead and the roar of the furnaces,
coupled with the washing of the water, prevented my hearing any distant
sound.
Presently however, I recognised Garry O'Neil's voice above the general
din.
"Clear off, ye murthorin' divvles!" he cried, waving his arms above the
heads of the crowd of onlookers, as I could now see. "The poor chap
wants air, and ye're stayling the viry br'ith out of his nosshrils!
Away wid ye all, ye spalpeens! or by the powers, it's a-pizening the
howl batch of ye I'll be doin' the next toime ye comes to me for pill or
powdher!"
The men clustering round him spread out, moving nearer to me; and they
laughed at his comical threat--which sounded all the more humorous from
the Irishman's racy brogue, which became all the more prominent when
Garry was at all excited. God knows, though, their merriment, untimely
as it might have sounded to outside ears, betrayed no want of sympathy
with their comrade. They laughed, as sailors will do sometimes, holding
their lives in their hands, as is the practice of those who have to
brave the manifold dangers of the deep below and aloft on shipboard,
even when standing on the brink of eternity.
As they moved away, the fierce light from one of the open furnace doors
was beating on their bare bodies and making them look, indeed, the very
devils to whom the Irishman had jocularly likened them; the latter
looked up quickly, saw me, and beckoned me to approach nearer.
"Arrah, come along, man, with those bandages!" he said. "Sure ye moight
have made 'em in the toime since I called up to the skipper. Where are
they now, me darlint?"