Volunteers called for
It was rather late on the third morning of the voyage when Joe had his
attention attracted to one particular portion of the huge ship in which
he had taken passage to Canada. Not that this one particular portion
had escaped his notice; for, like the majority of young fellows
nowadays, our hero was certainly quick at observation.
"Them things hum and squeak and flicker most of the day," said Sam
Fennick, withdrawing a somewhat dilapidated brier pipe from his mouth
and pointing the bowl at a deck house situated on the upper deck.
"What's it all about, youngster?"
"Marconigrams coming and going," answered Joe; for the little house
alluded to was given up to that recent wonderful invention which allows
of messages being sent across space, without the aid and intervention
of the customary wires. "The young officer there used to live in our
neighbourhood. I once thought of becoming an operator myself, and, in
fact, had many lessons from him."
"You had?" asked Sam, staring at Joe; for every hour that the two
conversed revealed to Sam that Joe was a little better than the
ordinary. Indeed, it is only reasonable that we should be fair, and
admit that in coming to such a conclusion Sam was strictly right.
After all, emigrants are not made up of the most intelligent or of the
highest educated of our population. Too often they are men and women
seeking a new life because of the failure of that which they had
previously followed; or they are young people with a fair education,
and with little else. In Joe's case, thanks to his own restless
ambition, and to the fact that his father had devoted many an hour to
him, the lad was acquainted with much unknown to the average emigrant.
And here was something. To Sam a marconigram was neither fish, flesh,
nor fowl; he didn't precisely know what it was, whether it had actual
shape, nor what was its colour.
"Eh?" he asked. "You know the chap as works up there? And you've had
lessons? What's a marconigram, anyhow?"
Joe explained with enthusiastic lucidity.
"I've sent 'em, too," he said. "There was a station not so far from
us, and that's where I met Franc. It's nice having him aboard the same
ship. But he is busy, isn't he? There must be something happening out
of the ordinary. Wish I could go up there and join him; but it's
forbidden. He told me that particularly."
It was only natural that our young hero should wish to see something of
a chum associated with former days. But Franc, the young Marconi
operator, was never get-at-able when on duty. It was only between the
spells of work in his office that he met Joe down on the emigrant deck
for'ard. Now, at the time when Sam and Joe were together, Franc was
undoubtedly busily engaged. Moreover, there was a subdued air of
mystery, if not of anxiety, about the officers who occasionally passed
amongst the emigrants.
"What's up?" demanded Sam bluntly of one as he passed. "That thing
yonder"--and he again withdrew his pipe and pointed the bowl at the
Marconi office--"that thing's busy, I guess. Sending messages as fast
as the air'll take 'em. What's up, mister? Revolution back in the Old
Country, eh? What?"
He received merely a curt answer; the officer hurried on, leaving Sam
none the wiser.
"All the same, there's a ruction stirring somewhere," he said; "I can
see it with half an eye. The captain's walking up and down his bridge
as if there was lions after him. What's it all mean?"
It became clearer, as the hours passed, that there was something
seriously wrong in some direction, though where or what the trouble
might be none could guess. Joe descended with his friend to dinner,
and it was not till he mounted to the deck again that he gained tidings
of what was happening. A huge column of pungent smoke was rising from
the fore hold of the ship as he gained the deck, while sailors were
moving about with wet cloths tied round their mouths.
"A fire down below," said Sam, with a catch in his voice. "Lor'!"
"Fire!" shrieked one of the passengers, a woman, as her eyes lit on the
smoke. Then the alarm was echoed from a hundred quarters. Men came
rushing up into the open. Women screamed, and one huge fellow, a
Russian by his appearance, came rushing across the deck and cast
himself into one of the boats.
"Silence!" commanded the captain through his megaphone, coming to the
front of the bridge. "Quartermaster, turn that man out of that boat."
"Aye, aye, sir!" came from a burly individual, already advancing on the
spot in question. "Now then," he said, when he had reached the boat,
"you hop out, quick."
But the Russian was not inclined to do so. Terror had taken firm hold
on him, and he sat clutching the thwarts, heedless of the quartermaster
and of the fact that the boat sat firmly upon its guides on the deck,
and offered as yet no sort of protection. But he remained there for
only a minute, for the quartermaster hopped over the thwarts, seized
the Russian by his coat and by the seat of his trousers, and threw him
out without ceremony.
"Passengers," called the captain, in a voice so steady that he might
have been inviting them to dinner, "there is nothing as yet to be
alarmed at. Please go on with your work or your pleasures as if
nothing were happening. I call upon every man and woman to set a good
example, remembering that there are children amongst us."
That was enough. Men who had run forward with alarm written on their
faces went back to their wives and children at once. Others gathered
into anxious knots and went on with their pipes, while the children,
unconscious of their danger, romped about the decks.
"All the same, it's a ticklish business," said Sam, after a while.
"They've got the hatches off, and I expect they're trying to clear out
the stuff that's afire. That looks bad, for as a rule they'd leave the
hatches on and turn steam sprays on to the burning cargo. Perhaps the
sprays can't get at the stuff that's afire."
"In any case, the crew won't be able to continue for long at the work
unaided," added Joe. "Look! There's one overcome by the smoke;
they've carried him off along the deck to the doctor."
In the course of the next hour four men were rendered incapable by the
pungent smoke issuing from the hold, while the smoke itself had become
even denser. Huge clouds arose through the hatchway and, caught by the
breeze--for all this while the ship was forging ahead at her fastest
pace--went billowing out behind her. So dense, in fact, was it, that
the passengers for'ard could not see the bridge nor any other part of
the giant vessel.
"Want volunteers?" asked Joe of an officer hurrying along the deck.
"Eh?" came the curt and hurried answer.
"Do you want any help?" repeated Joe. "There are plenty of us who
would be eager and willing. That would free the men who are needed for
the usual work of the vessel."
"Well now, that's a fine idea. See here," said the officer hurriedly,
"I'll get along to the skipper and ask him what his wishes are. Of
course he may say he's right as things are, but then the 'Old Man' may
think differently. Meanwhile, you get a few likely chaps together. If
they're wanted, everything'll be ready."
He went off at a quick pace, striding over the deck, and Joe saw him
clambering to the bridge, where he sought the anxious captain.
"Well?" demanded Sam, for the idea of volunteers being called for had
never occurred to him. "What'll you do?"
"Get a few men together at once," said Joe. "You stop here, and I'll
send 'em over to you. That'll allow them to gather without creating a
fuss. Anything is likely to increase the uneasiness of the passengers,
and we don't want to add to the alarm they already feel."
He left Sam smoking heavily by the rail and went off amongst the
passengers, who, in spite of their efforts to remain calm, were
obviously filled with alarm. For if huge clouds of smoke had been
coming from the open hatch before, it was billowing out now in vast
volumes, smoke, too, which set everyone on the bridge choking, for
there was a slight headwind, and the breeze the ship herself made in
her rapid passage through the air helped to carry the smoke backward.
As to the first- and second-class passengers, they had been driven to
take shelter on the lower deck right aft, and were therefore entirely
invisible. Joe accosted Jim and Claude, the two young fellows who were
his cabin companions, and, whispering to them, sent them over to Sam.
In the course of some ten minutes he had selected a couple of dozen
young fellows, all of whom he had chatted with at various times during
the past two days. That, indeed, is one of the curious results of
travel aboard a ship. One becomes acquainted with one's fellow
passengers during the first day; their inner history is often known by
the evening of the second; while, long before the trip is ended, often
enough their innermost thoughts, their ambitions, and their hopes are
the property of one or other of the many friends they have made on
board. In any case, Joe was the sort of lad who makes friends quickly.
Free from that stupid side which sometimes afflicts the youth of this
and other countries, he had a welcoming smile for everyone, and was
ready to exchange his views with Dick, Tom, or Harry. It was not
remarkable, therefore, that he had already become acquainted with a
number of young fellows, bachelors like himself.
"I'll choose them in preference to the married men," he told himself.
"The latter have pluck and dash enough, I know; but they have wives and
children, and their services will be required by the families. Hi,
Bill!" he called to another of his chums, beckoning him, "volunteers
are likely to be wanted to help the sailors. Are you----"
"Right!" declared the man abruptly.
"Then get across to Sam Fennick; he's away over there at the rail.
Just go on smoking as if nothing out of the way were happening. Got a
good-sized handkerchief in your pocket?"
"No, no; I ain't got that," admitted Bill, after hunting about his
person.
"Then get off to the cabin steward, or to the purser, if you can find
him, and ask for three dozen towels. We can easily get a bucket of
water up on deck, and that will give us the right thing to put round
our mouths."
It was perhaps five minutes later when Joe went sauntering back to Sam.
Quite a couple of dozen men had already congregated about him, and
stood for the most part lolling against the rail and smoking
contentedly; but there was not one who was not watching the smoke
issuing from the hatchway critically.
"Seems to me as there's more of it, and it's kinder hotter," said Sam,
almost in a whisper, as Joe came to his side. "Well, you've got the
boys together, and the right sort too. Now, if I'd been asked, I'd
have been flummoxed from the very beginning, and as like as not I'd
have chosen the wrong sort."
"They're all single men," answered Joe. "Married men will be wanted to
set an example of coolness to the passengers and allay their fears.
Has that officer come along again? Ah, here's Bill! Well?" he
demanded, as the latter came over to him with a bundle beneath his arm.
"Got 'em easy," panted the latter. "A steward gave 'em to me right
off. Now?"
He asked the question in excited tones and in a loud voice.
"Keep cool, and don't speak too loud," Joe cautioned him. "We want a
bucket of fresh water. Who'll get it?"
Jim went off promptly, and when he returned some three minutes later it
was to meet the officer coming towards the group.
"Ah," said the latter, singling Joe out, "you're the young fellow that
spoke about volunteers. Well, now, the skipper says that he'd be glad
of 'em, but they must be carefully selected--single men only, you know."
"How'll these do then, mate?" asked Sam, swinging his open palm round
so as to embrace the little band of men Joe had selected. "This here
young chap"--and he pointed to our hero--"seems to have the right ideas
always tucked away at the back of that head of his. You'd no sooner
gone than he was away selecting his men. Every one of 'em single, too,
'cos he says as the married 'uns must be calm, and set all the rest an
example. And he's got towels for every man, and a bucket o' water here
to soak 'em in. Spry, ain't it?"
For perhaps a whole minute the officer looked Joe coolly up and down.
Indeed, at any other time his open inspection might have been
interpreted as a rudeness. But there was something more than mere
curiosity in his eye. He stretched out a hand sailor fashion and
gripped our hero's.
"You're young," he said bluntly, "but you've the right sort of pluck,
and a headpiece with which to back it. Bring your men along; I like
the look of 'em. But first to explain. This fire's been going ever
since two in the morning. It's somewhere in a lot of cotton goods
right under a heap of other cargo, and try as we have we can't stifle
it. Nor can we get at it with our sprays. So we're attempting to move
the other stuff, and then we'll pitch what's alight overboard or swamp
it with water from the hoses. It's the smoke that's the trouble. You
come right along."
He led the way to the hatchway, Joe and his men following, while almost
at once a crowd of steerage passengers massed themselves along the rail
which cut them off from that part of the deck, and detecting the object
of the little band, and realizing that they were volunteers, sent up a
hoarse cheer of encouragement.
"Just you skipper the lot, youngster," said the officer, turning when
close to the hatchway. "Keep those not at work below well to windward,
then they'll be able to breathe easily. You can see that the skipper's
put his helm over, so as to blow the smoke more abeam, for the people
aft could hardly breathe. Now, you come down with me and I'll show you
what's wanted; then you can set your men to at it."
Joe damped a towel in the bucket of water and tied it round his mouth
and nose. Then he followed the officer over the edge of the hatchway,
and gripping the iron ladder which descended vertically, soon found
himself standing some thirty feet below on a pile of huge boxes.
"Machinery, and heavy stuff too," said the officer, taking him across
to a part where there was little smoke. "Now, you can see for yourself
whereabouts the fire is. The smoke tells you. Ah! there's another man
done for!"
Joe's surroundings were indeed sufficient to cause more than the usual
interest, for the scene was filled with movement. Overhead the square
of the open hatchway framed a beautiful if confined area of blue sky,
across which a few white clouds were scudding. But it was not always
that one could see this view, for huge columns of smoke issued from the
hold in front of him and went swirling up, to cease entirely at moments
and then to gush forth again, for all the world as if someone were
stationed in the depths amongst the cargo and were using a gigantic
bellows. For the rest, a couple of huge reflectors threw the light
from a number of electric bulbs into the hold, though without any
seeming effect, for the dense smoke made the darkness almost
impenetrable. Here and there a man rested well to one side, his mouth
bound up with a handkerchief, while deeper in, entirely invisible, were
other men. One heard a shout now and again and the clatter of moving
boxes. Overhead, too, dangled a rope swinging from a derrick. It was
at the precise moment when Joe's quick eye had gathered these details,
that a couple of men came into sight staggering across the boxes and
bearing a man between them.
"Dropped like a rabbit, he did," gasped one of them, as they placed the
man on his back on one of the boxes. "Went down jest as if he'd been
shot. Above there! Lower away."
A head appeared in the opening of the hatchway, while a second later a
cloud of smoke shot upward, hiding the head and setting the owner
coughing. But the derrick above swung over promptly, and the rope
descended.
"You two men get to one side and rest," said the officer. "I and this
friend here will see to the man. Now," he went on swiftly, "lend a
hand while I pass the rope round this poor chap. That's the way. Now
steady him while I go aloft. You'll get your men down as you want 'em."
He had already spoken to an officer on duty down below, and now went
clambering upward. A moment later Joe was guiding the unconscious body
of the sailor as he was hoisted upward. Then, cramming the towel close
round his nose and mouth, he dived into the clouds of smoke till, aided
by the electric light, he saw an officer.
"Shall I bring some of the men down now, sir?" he asked. "I've two
dozen up above, all ready to lend a hand. I thought it would be best
to employ them in two batches."
The officer, a young man of some twenty-five years of age, rose from
the box he was helping to lift, coughed violently, and then accompanied
Joe back to the part directly under the hatchway.
"My word," he gasped, when at length a violent attack of coughing had
subsided and allowed him to speak, "we'll be glad to have you. That's
hot work in there. You've two dozen, you say? Then bring along half
of them; they'll be mighty useful."
Joe went swarming upward at once and, arriving on the deck, promptly
told off twelve of the men. He was down again with them within a few
seconds, at once leading them forward to where the work was in progress.
"That you?" asked the officer, peering at him through the smoke and
coughing. "Then get to at these boxes. We're pulling them aside, and
till we've got a heap more away we shan't be able to reach the spot
where there's fire. When we do, things won't be so easy. There'll be
a burst of smoke and flames, I should imagine."
"Then we'd better have the other half of this gang ready with sacks and
blankets damped with water," cried Joe. "A hose wouldn't stop the
fire, and the water would do a heap of damage. Eh?"
"You're the boy!" gasped the officer. "That's an idea; will you see to
it?"
Joe nodded promptly, and then set his gang to work to help the sailors
already employed in moving the cargo. Dashing away as soon as he saw
that they understood what was required of them, he swarmed up to the
top of the hatchway and called loudly to one of the gang above.
"Find one of the officers if you can, or, better still," he said, "go
along to the purser. Ask for twenty or thirty old blankets. Take a
mate or two with you and bring the lot along here; then swamp them with
water. When you've got them ready have them slung down into the hold.
You've followed?"
The young fellow nodded eagerly. "Got it pat," he declared, swinging
round. "I'll be back inside ten minutes."
Joe slid down below without further waiting, and, joining his men,
attacked the cargo with energy. Half an hour later, perhaps, after a
bulky parcel wrapped in matting had been dragged from its place, a
sudden burst of smoke drove the workers backward. It was followed by a
hot blast of air and then by tongues of flame.
"Looks bad," declared the officer, rising to his feet from the box on
which he had been seated; for he was taking a well-earned rest.
"There's stuff below there that's well alight. Look at that! There's
smoke and flames for you."
"And we'll need to drown the fire at once," cried Joe. "I'll bring the
other gang down and set them to fight it."
Once more he clambered over the boxes from the dark depths of the hold
and, gaining the open space beneath the hatchway, shouted loudly. At
once a head appeared, and another call brought the second half of his
gang tumbling downward.
"Each of you take one of the damped blankets," said Joe, standing
beside them. "See that the towels are well over your mouths and noses,
and then follow me. We've got to the seat of the fire, and have to do
our best to damp it out. Now, follow one after the other."
Seizing a blanket himself, he led the way till within twenty feet of
the spot where the last bale had been torn out of its position. The
workers whom he had left had been driven backward to that point, and
were crouching down with their heads as low as possible, coughing and
choking as dense masses of smoke swept about them. Joe saw red tongues
of flame, and at once, without hesitation, advanced on the spot,
holding the blanket before him. But if he imagined he had an easy
task, he was quickly to learn that he was mistaken. The choking clouds
of pungent smoke which swelled past him and hid him from the men was
the least part of the difficulty. It was the heat which threatened to
defeat his efforts. For a hot blast surrounded him. He felt of a
sudden as if he had plunged into a furnace, while his nostrils burned
as if he were inhaling flames. Then the blanket, in spite of its
soaking, steamed heavily and began to shrivel.
"Forward!" Joe commanded himself. "This is not the time to give back.
Push on and get your blanket down right on the spot where the cargo is
alight."
Pulling himself together, as it were, and summoning all his energies,
Joe dashed forward over the uneven flooring, the heat wave about him
increasing in intensity. A gust of hot air, an intensely burning
breath gripped him, while lurid flames swept past him on either hand.
Even the wetted blanket showed signs of giving way before such an
ordeal, for one corner curled upward and then burst into flame. But
Joe was a stubborn fellow. He was not the one to be beaten when so
near the goal, and half stifled and roasted he pushed on, cast his
blanket over a spot which appeared to be white with heat, and trod it
down manfully. He retreated then as fast as he could, followed by a
dense smoke which made breathing impossible.
"Next!" he shouted, when he could speak. "Don't stop. We must pile
the blankets on as thick as possible."
It says much for the courage of those steerage passengers that not one
of the volunteers hesitated. Helped by the members of the crew, to
whose aid they had come, they rushed forward pell-mell, casting the
wetted blankets over Joe's; then, having trodden them down, they
retreated before the dense smoke which drove them out. They sat in
groups and anyhow, gasping beneath the open hatchway, some of them even
having to beat the fire from their clothes.
"We've fixed that fire, I think," gasped the officer at last, for the
smoke seemed to be less intense. "If so, it's the luckiest thing I've
ever encountered."
"Wait," cautioned Joe. "That smoke's more pungent. That looks as if
the fire were still burning."
Five minutes later it was clear that he was right; for flames suddenly
shot out at the gang of workers, scorching their hair and driving them
backward. Nor was it possible to advance again with wetted blankets.
For an hour the gallant workers struggled to subdue the blaze by
throwing water from a couple of hoses into the hold. But that effort
too proved useless. It was clear that the fire had got beyond control,
and that the safety of the passengers depended on the ship reaching a
port very soon, or coming in with another vessel. Then, and then only,
did the news circulate that Franc, the young Marconi operator and Joe's
friend, had been placed out of action.
"It's just broken up our chances," groaned the officer who had been
working beside our hero. "That fellow has been calling for four or
five hours so as to get in touch with another vessel. But there was
none within reach fitted with the Marconi apparatus. Now he's fallen
down the gangway, and lies in the doctor's quarters with one leg broken
and himself unconscious. It's a regular bad business."