IN COLLISION.
About the time when the seamen found the stowaways hiding in the
hold, Arthur Gordon sat in the Captain's room, and he afterwards told
Charley what happened. He was chatting with the Purser when someone
rapped at the door, and a sailor entering explained how he came
across two boys, covered with damp newspapers, crouching in a corner
among the cargo of railway iron.
"What do you mean by hiding in my ship?" asked the Captain sternly as
they were led in. "Tell me your names, where you live, and just what
brought you here. Don't you know I could send you to prison for
trying to steal a passage without paying your fare?
"I'm Tom," said the eldest, trying to hide the thin blue knees that
peeped through his ragged clothes, with a wondering look at the
luxurious room, "and this is Jim. Ain't got no other names. We
lives with Jim's mother in a cellar. She sewed sacks, an' was very
kind to us. Gives us what she had, an' it wasn't very much. Then
she dies, and the workhouse buries her--what was it, Jim?"
"'Flammation, the doctor said, but I think it was starvin'. There
was a month when she had nothink hardly to eat," answered Jim,
gulping down something in his throat; and the Captain added more
gently, "Go on, my lad, what did you do then?"
"Then," said Tom boldly, "we lives where we could, under arches an'
sheds, dodgin' the police--Jim he sells papers, I sells
matches--until we saw them plackgards on the emigration offices.
'Free homes in Canady. Free land. Work and plenty for everyone,'
all printed in big red letters, an' we says, 'There's room for us two
somewhere in that good country.' So we clubs our tradin' money--four
shillin' it was--spends sixpence on purvisions, an' hides among the
cargo, where the rats nearly eat us. We'll give you the rest for our
passage, sir, an' when we gets rich some day we'll pay you some more.
We're not cheats, but honest traders, sir."
The Purser solemnly stretched out his hand for the bundle of coppers
in a dirty rag. Arthur Gordon, who was too kindly a gentleman to
hurt anybody's feelings, tried not to smile when the ragged urchin
called himself a trader, and the Captain, who asked a few more
questions, pressed a bell button as he said, "H'm; it was very wrong
of you. Still, we're not going to hang you. Steward, take these
young rascals forward, and feed them in the steerage--they look as if
they wanted it. Hunt out some of my old things, and ask the
stewardess to double them until they fit. Those clothes are a
disgrace to humanity. Now, my lads, you'll have to work for your
passage, and I've got my eye on you. By the way, steward, don't
forget to wash them, whatever you do!"
Tom touched his grimy forehead, Jim stared blankly, and the Captain,
who had boys of his own, said as they went out, "Poor little
beggars!--it's a hard world for such as them. I like that eldest
lad; there's spirit in him. What are you going to do with that
money, Purser?"
The Purser laughed as he answered, "Make the saloon passengers add to
it, and give it to the lads when they land. I'll tell them the story
at dinner to-day"; while Arthur Gordon said, "I'm only a poor man,
but will you put this in for me?" When he told his brother he also
said, "So you see, Charley, there are folks very much worse off than
you," and Charley agreed with him.
For six days the steamer sped westwards across a great circle of
blue, and Charley thought he would never grow tired of the measured
dip of the long deck, the wash of broken waves, and all the new
wonders of the sea; while little Reggie would sit wrapped up for
hours with an unread book upon his knee, and say at times, "I never
dreamt of anything like this. It's just glorious."
Then she ran into the bank fog which lies heavy and thick on the
waters where, near Newfoundland, the ocean grows shallow and the
great cod feed on the sands below. The sun went out, and there was
grey dimness all day, while the oily sea heaved in slow green levels,
and a ringing of bells came out of the vapour as the ship crept at
half speed through the fishing fleet. The anxious Captain never left
his bridge, two men kept lookout above the bows, and now and then,
with a roar of her whistle, a steamer they could not see went by,
while sometimes the frightened emigrants shouted, as a great iron
hull rushed past half visible through the thick white curtain. A fog
is perhaps the worst of all dangers at sea, and there is generally
fog off Newfoundland, where too many poor fishermen lose their lives
through collision annually. One dismal afternoon was fading into
night, when Charley, leaning over the rails, watched the mist slide
past. Arthur stood near talking to Miss Armadale, a young lady who
lived in the part of Canada they were going to, and the two stowaways
sat under a lifeboat close by.
"I'm so glad you brought me, Tom," he heard one of them say. "We're
partners in everythin', an' we're goin' to make our fortune in
Canady. It's lots better than starvin' an' dodgin' the p'licemen
where we come from. Hullo, there's another steamer comin'."
A great screech came ringing out of the fog, their steamer's whistle
answered it with a hoarse bellow like an angry cow, and then a deep
boom deafened them. "A mailboat bound for England, an' a cargo
steamer somewhere. This fog's just thick with vessels," said a
passing seaman.
Then the tinkle of a bell rose up through the engine-room skylights,
the machinery beat more slowly, and between the roar of the whistles
Charley heard one of the urchins say, "That's our ship a-callin' to
tell them which way she's going. They talk to each other with the
whistles. Wouldn't it be awful, Tom, if one came smashin' into us
when we're almost at Canady? I've been countin' the hours till we
get there."
Tom did not answer, for just then a seaman on the look-out cried,
"Steamer's green light broad on our port bow, sir!" and after an
answering shout from the bridge, called again as if alarmed, "She's
openin' up her red." Then the deck trembled beneath them as the big
engines were turned backwards to stop the ship. But it was too late,
and Charley felt his heart beat wildly, as a clamour of frightened
voices commenced, and after a shrill screech of a whistle the great
bow of another steamer swept out of the fog. It looked huge and
awful, forging resistless through the black water, which boiled with
a drowsy roar about the rusty iron. He could see the tall funnel
behind it, and a blink of coloured lights, then his ears were
deafened by a thundering rush of steam, and eight hundred passengers
were floundering and shouting all over the deck. Next he staggered
backwards, for there was a heavy shock, and amid a horrible grinding
the other vessel drove along their rail, crunching in the iron like
cardboard, and tearing the boats away, while Arthur, shouting, "Stand
clear of the wreckage, Charley!" thrust the lady beside him as far
back as he could.
The ship rolled sideways and back again, as vessels in collision
generally do, throwing the passengers down in heaps, and the screams
of terrified women were louder than the roar of escaping steam. Men
leapt from vessel to vessel, which in cases of panic even trained
seamen will, some fell into the sea, and others fought and trampled
on each other to be the first to reach the uninjured boats, where two
bare-headed mates and a few sailors swinging heavy ashwood bars,
struck down the boldest of them. A collision at sea is terrifying,
and sometimes strong men, brought suddenly, without warning, face to
face with death, act like frightened children, while there is an end
of all sense and order when once blind fear takes hold of a crowd.
The shouting, rending of iron, and smashing of wood grew louder;
somebody switched on an electric light for working cargo by, and as
the sudden glare beat down upon the pale faces and struggling figures
about the crowded deck, Charley saw the big lifeboat close by him
hurled up on one end. His brother sprang in front of the lady who
stood near him, and shouted to the urchins,
"Jump clear, Tom! Crawl this way, Jim, before it falls and crushes
both of you!"
The stern of the steamer which struck them was level with Charley
now, and it was one of her iron davits which had caught the boat. He
saw Tom the stowaway drag the younger lad to his feet, and calling,
"Jump for the other ship! We're sinkin'!" thrust him from the broken
rail. The younger lad jumped and clutched the davit, and then, just
as the boat fell crushed in, Tom sprang across the widening gulf,
caught something and held on by one hand; after which, as the two
vessels drove clear at last, there was a heavy splash in the sea, and
Charley saw only one small clinging figure where two had been before.
Then this one loosed its hold and dropped into the dark water, too,
while Charley, who, in his excitement, only remembered he could swim,
was running towards the rail, when Arthur hurled him aside. "You
would only drown yourself. Stay here; I'm going to get him!" he
cried.
After this Arthur leapt out into the darkness, and Charley grew faint
and sick, remembering the thrashing screw, whose iron blades might
cut any swimmer to pieces, while presently a cry came down from the
bridge, "The steamer only struck us a glancing blow. If you'll stand
fast and keep quiet you'll all be safe enough. Lower away the two
starboard lifeboats, Mr. Davies."
There was a clatter of blocks as two boats on the uninjured side sank
down into the sea, men dropped into them, and the other vessel was
lost in the fog, while faint shouts rose from the water, and a heavy
silence followed when the pounding engines stopped.
Charley felt his throat dry up, and his fingers would tremble as he
pictured his brother swimming somewhere in that icy water under the
fog, and he felt glad when Miss Armadale placed a hand on his
shoulder. She looked at him compassionately, though he could see she
was trembling, too, as she said, "Your brother is a very brave man,
and I feel sure he will save them. There! Isn't that a splash of
oars coming? You must not be over anxious, the boats will find him."
Charley took comfort. He felt proud of Arthur, and drawing himself
up stood beside the lady, as he thought, protectingly, for what
seemed an endless time, until a cheery shout came out of the clammy
mist, "I think we have got them all, sir."
Then, with a ghastly blue light burning in her bows a boat approached
the ship, and hurrying his companion to the rail Charley shouted with
delight as he saw his brother in the stern. The second boat also
came surging towards them, and while wet objects were helped up the
steamer's side a man scrambled to the bridge, and again the Captain's
voice came down, "The other ship has her bows badly crushed, but she
can get back to Halifax. Our vessel seems only damaged above water
level, and we're going on again soon."
[Illustration: "WITH A GHASTLY BLUE LIGHT BURNING IN HER BOWS A BOAT
APPROACHED THE SHIP."]
A hoarse cheer went up from the passengers, who were comforted by the
news, and Charley laughed excitedly, though his voice was thick as,
hurling hurried questions at him, he grasped Arthur's arm. Still he
remembered hearing Miss Armadale say, "I am thankful to see you back
safe again. It was very gallantly done, and I hope you will allow me
to congratulate you on more than your escape."
"I have often swum much farther for amusement; there were several
boats about, and the only thing that troubled me was the cold," said
Arthur gently; and the lady smiled at him curiously as, seeing her
own friends at last, she turned away.
The stowaways were helped up next, and the ship's doctor bent over
Jim, who lay limply in a seaman's arm with a red gash across his
forehead.
"Take this little fellow to the surgery; he's badly hurt," he said;
"see the rest get into warm blankets, steward, and they won't be much
the worse. When I've time I'll physic you according to your deserts,
but it's a pity the worst dose I've got won't teach you sense. When
you had a comfortable ship under you whatever must you jump into that
cold water for? This Company's vessels are not built to sink."
For an hour the steamer's boats rowed through the fog, burning blue
lights; and then, as she went on again, Arthur explained that the
other vessel had only struck them slantwise in passing, though
several passengers were missing. He also said that he found the two
urchins clinging to a piece of the boat, for Tom, who could swim, had
somehow got his comrade there. He helped one lad on to the wreck,
and then held the other up against it until a boat came and took them
off--"just in time," he added simply. Arthur, as his brother knew,
never said much about his own doings, and there was no need for him
to do so, because a meritorious action speaks for itself, while by
and by he went away to talk to Miss Armadale, who seemed very pleased
to see him.
Next morning Arthur went into the surgery and found Jim lying, with
his white face half-hidden by bandages, on a cot in it. The purser
and doctor sat there, looking very grave, and the former said, "When
Tom fell from the rail what made you jump in? You couldn't do any
good--you said you couldn't swim, you know." Jim stared at the
speaker, as though puzzled, before answering, "We was partners in
everythin,' Tom an' me, an' when he lets go, of course, I let go too."
"I see," said the purser. "There is more in that answer than I
daresay you guess. I wonder if, among all my friends, anyone would
do as much for me. You want to see your partner? Well"--he glanced
at the surgeon, who nodded--"I'll bring him to you."
He had not far to go, for Tom was crouching against the bulkhead just
outside the door, as he had done most of the night, while when he
came in, the doctor whispered, "I am afraid he is very ill, and you
must not excite him. Sit still, and don't talk much; he is not
always quite sensible."
The lad clenched one thin hand, his lips quivered, but he walked in
very quietly, and there was only a dimness in his eyes as he touched
the clammy fingers the other stretched out towards him, while a low
voice said, "We was true partners an' I wanted you. I know I'm very
bad, though they won't say so, an' perhaps you'll go on to Canady
without me. It's a very good land, Tom; plenty for everyone--them
plackgards said so. No more cold, an' no more starvin'. We was cold
an' hungry often yonder, but there's good times coming for you an'
me. We're goin' to a better country."
"Hush!" said the doctor. "He's getting light headed again"; and Tom,
who tried not to choke, said, "I'll be quiet as a mouse, sir, if
you'll only let me stay with him. I know he'd like to feel me near
him."
Then the purser coughed a little, and Tom sat very still, holding his
comrade's hand, until the other sank into a restless doze, while,
when the doctor went out with Arthur, he said, "He hasn't any chance,
poor little fellow. Got badly crushed somehow, and he's sinking
fast. There is nothing I can do."
The doctor was right, for Jim died a few hours later, still holding
his partner's hand, and lay in state in the wheelhouse, a little
hunger-pinched figure out of which an heroic soul had gone, wrapped
round in the broad red folds of his country's flag. "He's better
off," said the purser, who came out bare-headed. "As he said,
there's neither hunger nor cold now for him, and, sail-maker, we'll
let him keep the flag. He won the right to wear it by his fidelity."
Charley long remembered the solemn scene which followed at the
changing of the watch, when eight hundred passengers, most of them
bare-headed, stood very silent about the deck, and a little roll of
canvas with the red flag wrapped about it lay on a grating at the
rail. Clear sunlight shone down on the white and crimson crosses
that covered the dead waif's breast, for the clammy fog had gone, and
the brass clasps of the book a clergyman read from flashed
dazzlingly. Then someone on the watch raised a beckoning hand, and,
as the throbbing engines stopped, the solemn words came clearly
through the sudden hush. The grating tilted, there was a splash in
the dark blue water, and the steamer went on again, leaving Jim the
newspaper seller, who had given his life for his comrade, to rest
with many another sprung from the same fearless race, far down in the
icy depths, until the sea gives up her dead.
Afterwards the bright rays seemed to grow warmer, and that evening
there was a shout from the passengers as the long-expected shore rose
before them, a faint blurr of greyness broad across the blood-red
sunset. Some laughed excitedly, some looked serious, and Charley
felt a thrill of hope and eagerness, while he saw that Tom's eyes
were red, as, looking forward over the dipping bows, he caught
through a mist of tears his first glimpse of the promised land. But
he did not reach it either destitute or friendless, for the purser
had told his story well, and the rag that had been full of pennies
was heavy with golden coin now, while a kind Canadian promised to
find work for him, and in due time he and Charley met again.
During the next five days Charley and Reggie had much to interest
them, as the long train went clattering through old Quebec, then out
across the meadows and orchards of fertile Ontario, past many a
prosperous wooden town, until it rolled into a region of rock and
forest. Then there were frothing rivers, lonely lakes, black
pinewoods, and a few Indian teppees to stare at, until, with a beat
of wheels ringing back from the granite rock, it thundered along the
shores of Lake Superior. Afterwards there were more rivers and
forests before these were left behind in turn, and clanking through
Winnipeg city they ran past groves of willows out into the great open
prairie, and Charley knew they were getting near their future home.
On taking up a map of Canada, anyone may see that north of the United
States boundary a wide stretch of level country runs west from
Winnipeg towards the Rocky Mountains, and this is the great prairie.
You will notice it is divided into Manitoba, Assiniboia, and Alberta,
but there is not very much difference between them, except that men
rear cattle and horses at its western end, which is higher and
undulating, and grow wheat in the more level east. It is more than
twice as large as Great Britain and part of it was once the bottom of
an inland sea. Now, it is one great stretch of grass that grows in
most places just above one's ankles, and in others to the waist,
while this grass, growing and rotting for many centuries, has left a
thick black mould which is perhaps the richest wheat-soil in the
world. You will remember that Nature does nothing in a hurry, and
except in parts of the unhealthy tropics where they die of fever,
seldom allows men to eat in idleness; so here, though there is nearly
always sunshine, there are also such things as droughts which starve
the cattle, and frosts that shrivel the grain, so that the farmers
have never a very easy time. It is very hot and bright in summer,
and bitterly cold during the winter, when part of the prairie lies
sheeted for months together under frozen snow.
There are few rich men in it, but there are still fewer very poor;
while health, independence, and content are very much better than
riches, and the settlers grow strong and fearless because they own
their own land, and work hard under clear sunshine in the open air.
Therefore, though they sometimes lose their crops and cattle, they
face their troubles cheerfully, perhaps because the laborious life
they lead strengthens the best that is in them. But you will say you
want a story, and not a lesson in geography, of which you get enough
at school.