VISITORS ON THE "RICHMOND"
THE ugly stoker was liberated on the following day after having promised
to behave himself in the future. But he held his head low when showing
himself on deck, which was seldom. He never permitted his shifting eyes
to meet those of Steve Rush, nor did Steve make any effort to address
the man. The lad was confident, in his own mind, that Smith was the man
who struck him that night by the after deck-house, but the drubbing that
Captain Simms had given the fellow made Rush feel that they were now
even.
On the way back the ship picked up Mrs. Simms and little Marie at Port
Huron. The "Richmond" was on its way to South Chicago with a cargo of
coal. This took them around into Lake Michigan, and many were the happy
hours spent by the captain's little daughter and the Iron Boys. They
played games on deck between watches, as though all three were children.
Rush and Jarvis had constituted themselves the special guardians of the
little girl, and she queened it over them, making them her willing
subjects.
At South Chicago the ship was held up for a week because the company to
which the coal was consigned was not ready to receive it. Steve
considered this to be bad business policy on the part of the steamship
people, and another memorandum went down in his book, to be considered
in detail later on.
While at South Chicago the lads made frequent trips into the city, which
they had never visited before. One afternoon they took the captain's
wife and daughter to a matinee, then out to dinner at a fashionable
restaurant.
It made a pleasant break in the lives of each of the four, and helped to
cement the friendship between little Marie and her new-found friends.
At last the coal was unloaded. After filling the tanks with water
ballast, the "Richmond" started away for the northward to take on
another cargo of ore and once more to drill down the Great Lakes.
The water ballast did not draw the ship down to its load level, with the
result that she rolled considerably.
"The glass is falling," announced the captain as the craft swung into
Lake Superior two days later. "I shouldn't be surprised if we had quite
a jabble of a sea before night."
"We don't care, do we?" chirped Marie, to whom a rolling ship was a keen
delight.
"Not as long as the dishes stay on the table," answered Bob, with a
merry laugh. "When are you going to bake that long-promised cake for
me?"
"Just as soon as the cook will let me. He's always cooking something for
the night watch when he isn't getting the regular meals. My, but that
night watch must have an awful appetite!" she chuckled.
"Yes, I've noticed that," agreed Bob. "But you can't lay it to me. I've
a feather-weight appetite. I didn't have any at all when I first went
aboard an ore carrier. It beats all how quickly a fellow will lose all
interest in life the first time out."
The wind blew hard all the way up Superior, raising, as the captain had
promised it would, "quite a jabble of a sea." But the blow was nothing
like a heavy gale. It was just a sea, a nasty, uncomfortable sea. The
boys and Marie were in great good humor all the way up. Marie's mother
was ill in her stateroom and the assistant cook had had an unexpected
attack of seasickness.
"Nice crew of lubbers," growled the captain, when informed of the
assistant cook's indisposition.
The ship reached Duluth at night and immediately was shunted into the
slip at the ore docks for loading. After the hatches were down a huge
crate was hoisted aboard with a crane. A section of the deck was opened
up and the crate was let down into the lazaret. The crate was consigned
to one of the company's officials in the East. No one paid any attention
to the crate, and it is doubtful if any one save the captain and the
first mate knew what the contents of the crate were.
Hatches were battened down and long before daylight the "Richmond" was
on her way again. By this time the "jabble" had increased to a full
gale. No other ship ventured out, but Captain Simms was not a skipper to
be held back by the weather. He knew his ship was seaworthy and he knew
full well how to handle her safely in any sea that the lakes could kick
up. A full northwester was raging down from the hills and the glass was
falling all the time. The "glass" is the sailor's name for barometer.
Steve took the wheel as they passed out, and he was obliged to give up
the wheelman's stool because he could not keep it right side up under
him. He dragged a platform over to the wheel. It was made for the
purpose, having cross-cleats on it to enable the helmsman to keep his
footing when the ship was cutting up capers.
"There," he announced, "I'll stick here until the wheel comes off."
Waves broke over the vessel continuously, striking the deck with reports
like those of distant artillery. Superior was a dreary waste of gray and
white. The air seemed full of the spume of the crested rollers, while
the clouds were leaden and threatening.
"Look at the rainbow!" cried Bob, pointing off to the westward.
"That ain't a rainbow you landlubber," jeered a companion.
"Well, if it isn't I never saw a rainbow."
"No, it's a dog."
"A what?"
"Sundog."
"Bob, you certainly are a lubber," laughed Mr. Major. "Didn't you ever
see a sundog before?"
"Never. What are they for?"
"I don't know what they are for. I know what they do--they bring gales
and storm and trouble all along the line. That's what the dogs do."
"I think the other ships saw it before we did, for there doesn't seem to
be another boat on the lake."
"No; at least, the little fellows have taken to harbors along the coast.
It wasn't the sundog, however, but the glass that warned them. You know
the glass has been falling for the past twenty-four hours. We know what
to expect when that happens, but we don't know what to expect when the
storm strikes us. These lakes are the most treacherous bodies of water
in the world. Twenty miles beyond here is the graveyard of Superior,
where the hulls of more than fifty ships lie rotting on the bottom. Some
of them went down in weather no worse than this. This is bad enough."
Bob listened attentively.
"Do you ever get seasick in any of these storms?"
"Always," answered the first mate, in a matter of fact tone. "If this
keeps on you won't see me at mess to-day noon. You'll have to eat your
dinner standing up, but not for me."
The weather grew more tempestuous as the forenoon wore on. The scuppers
were running rivers of green lake water and there was not a dry spot on
the decks; even the upper works standing high in the air, were dripping
with the spray that had been showered over them.
"Let her off three points," commanded the captain.
Almost instant relief from the incessant pounding was noticeable. The
waves came aboard only occasionally, though the sea was running the same
as before and the ship was rolling almost down to her rails.
"That is better," nodded Steve, his voice echoing in the silence of the
pilot-house.
"Did it make you dizzy?" smiled the skipper.
"No, sir. I got all over that after I fell in the hold that time. It
isn't a comfortable feeling to have the floor rolling around beneath
one's feet, but I am getting so that I do not mind it much. Is that a
boat ahead of us there?"
"Yes," replied the captain, placing the glasses to his eyes. "It's a
pig, and she's having a pretty hard time of it. All you can see of her
is a smother of foam in the place where the ship is. The smoke from her
funnel seems to come right out of the lake."
"Are those whalebacks safe, Captain?" asked the pilot.
"Yes. I commanded one for two seasons. They are perfectly safe, so long
as nothing happens to them."
Steve laughed.
"That goes without saying."
"But they are the wettest boats in the world, as you can judge by
watching that fellow beating his way against the sea. They have a very
thin skin and the least puncture will go through. Next thing you'll hear
the hatches blowing off, and down she goes like a meteorite shot from
above."
"I don't believe I should care for them. I prefer to be high above water
like this, rather than under it all the way down the lakes. If I wanted
to travel on a submarine I'd ship on a real one."
The gale was playing tunes on the braces, and the life-span running from
the forward to the after deck-house was swaying back and forth. Steve
gazed at it a moment then turned to the skipper.
"I never could see the use of those life-spans. If the ship goes down, I
don't understand how a life-span from one end of the ship to the other,
is going to help any."
"They haven't been on long. A good many lives would have been saved if
they had been. You see, the span is a rope on which travels a little
swing just large enough to hold a man. Then there is a free rope running
through a ring in the top of the swing by which to pull one's self
along."
"Yes, I have figured that out."
"Then suppose that to-night, in the darkness, we were to miss our way.
The compass might go bad, we might be driven out of our course and all
that sort of thing, you know--and all of a sudden we might drive our bow
full speed on one of those low-lying Apostle Islands!"
"Yes, sir."
"The stern of the ship would sink low and there she would pound to
pieces. That's where the men astern would find use for the life-span. By
it they would be able to pull themselves to the bow of the boat and
perhaps make their escape before the stern finally went down under
water. They are a good thing, and you should see to it that the spans
are always in working order. I have those on my ship examined every day.
I----"
The captain was interrupted in what he was saying by a yell from the
deck. The skipper took a quick look aft through the pilot-house windows,
then sprang to the pilot-house telegraph.
"Full speed astern!" crashed the message to the engine room.