BIM'S HEROISM.
As the burning steamboat swept down towards the low-lying raft the
destruction of the latter appeared so certain that its crew abandoned
all hope of saving it; and, taking to their skiff, sought by its means
to escape the threatened danger. It was a forlorn hope, and promised
but little. Even with Billy Brackett's strong arms tugging at its
oars, the heavily laden skiff seemed to move so slowly, that but for
the ever-widening space between them and the raft they would have
deemed it at a stand-still. They gazed in silence and with fascinated
eyes at the on-coming terror. At length, with a sigh of thankfulness,
they saw that they were beyond its track, and Billy Brackett's labors
were somewhat relaxed.
Suddenly, as though endowed with a fiendish intelligence, the blazing
fabric took a sheer to port, and headed for the skiff. A hoarse cry
broke from the old negro, whose face was ashen gray with fright. It
was echoed by Binney Gibbs. The others kept silence, but their faces
were bloodless.
By a mighty effort Billy Brackett spun the skiff around, and with the
energy of despair pulled back towards the raft. The stout oars bent
like whips. If one of them had given way nothing could have saved our
raftmates from destruction. Had the tough blades been of other than
home make, and fashioned from the best product of the Caspar Mill, they
must have yielded. With each stroke Billy Brackett rose slightly from
his seat. Arms, body, and legs made splendid response to the demands
of the invincible will. Years of careful training and right living
were concentrated into that supreme moment. Another might have sought
personal safety by plunging overboard and diving deep into the river.
Glen and Winn might have followed such an example. Binney and Solon,
being unable to swim, could not. But Billy Brackett was too true an
American to consider such a thing for an instant. Generations of
Yankee ancestors had taught him never to desert a friend nor yield to a
foe; never to court a danger nor to fear one; to fight in a righteous
cause with his latest breath; to snatch victory from defeat.
As the skiff dashed alongside the _Venture_ the vast, glowing, seething
mass of flame, smoke, and crashing timbers swept by so close that the
raftmates were obliged to seek a shelter in the cool waters from its
deadly heat. Clinging to the edge of the raft, with their bodies
entirely submerged, they gazed breathlessly and with blinded eyes at
the grandest and most awful sight to be seen on the Mississippi. It
was a huge lower-river packet, and was completely enveloped in roaring
flames that poured from every opening, and streamed furiously from the
tall chimneys the trailing banners of the fire-fiend. The boat was
under a full head of steam, her machinery was still intact, and the
great wheels, churning the glowing waters into a crimson foam, forced
her ahead with the speed of a locomotive. The back draught thus caused
kept the forward end of her lower deck free from flame. Here, as she
rushed past, the boys caught a glimpse of the only sign of life they
could discover aboard the ill-fated packet. It was a dog leaping from
side to side, and barking furiously.
They had hardly noted his presence when a curious thing happened.
There came an explosion of steam, a crash, and the starboard wheel
dropped from its shaft. Thus crippled, the blazing craft made a grand
sweep of half a circle in front of the raft. Then, as the other wheel
also became disabled and ceased its mad churnings, the boat lay with
her head up-stream, drifting helplessly with the current. The packet
was not more than a couple of hundred feet from the raft when its wild
progress was thus checked, and now the barkings of the dog, that had
already attracted the boy's attention, were heard more plainly than
before.
All at once Billy Brackett, who had regained the wave-washed deck of
the raft, called out, "It's Bim! I know his voice!"
With this he again sprang into the skiff, with the evident intention of
attempting to rescue his four-footed comrade. Winn Caspar was just in
time to scramble in over the stern as the skiff shot away. "I may be
of some help," he said.
As they neared the burning boat, they saw that the dog was indeed Bim.
He answered their calls with frantic barks of joy, but refused to leap
into the skiff or into the water, as they urged him to.
He would run back out of their sight instead, and then reappear,
barking frantically all the while. Once he seemed to be dragging
something, and trying to hold it up for their inspection.
"The dear old dog has some good reason for acting in that way," said
Billy Brackett, "and I must go to him."
Winn had not the heart to remonstrate against an attempt to aid Bim,
even though its extreme danger was obvious. The blazing hull, from
which most of the upper works were now burned away, was liable to
plunge to the bottom at any moment, and the boy shuddered at the
thought of being engulfed in the seething whirlpool which would thus be
created. He involuntarily cringed, too, at the thought of the red-hot
boilers ready to burst and deluge all surrounding objects with scalding
steam and hissing water. Still, he would not have spoken a single word
to deter Billy Brackett from his daring project even had he known it
would be heeded.
While these thoughts flashed through Winn's mind, his companion was
clambering up over the low guards, and Bim's joyful welcome of his
master was pitiful in its extravagance. The dog seemed to say, "I knew
you would come if I only waited patiently and barked loud enough. Now
you see why I couldn't leave."
The object to which Bim thus directed attention, as plainly as though
possessed of speech, was a little curly-haired puppy, a Gordon setter,
so young that its eyes were not yet opened.
Billy Brackett picked it up and dropped it over the side into Winn's
arms. Then he tried to do the same by Bim; but, with a loud bark, the
nimble dog eluded his grasp, and dashed away into the thick of the
smoke. Tongues of flame were licking their cruel way through it, and
as Bim emerged, his hair was scorched in yellow patches. He dragged
out a dead puppy, laid it at his master's feet, and before he could be
restrained had once more dashed back into the stifling smoke. Again he
appeared, this time weak and staggering, every trace of his white coat
gone. He was singed and blackened beyond recognition; but he was a
four-footed hero, who had nobly performed a self-imposed duty. As he
feebly dragged another little dead puppy to his master's feet, Billy
Brackett seized the brave dog in his arms, and sprang over the side of
the doomed steamboat into the waiting skiff. Tears stood in the young
man's eyes as the suffering creature licked his face, and he exclaimed,
"I tell you what, Winn Caspar, if this blessed dog isn't possessed of a
soul, then I'm not, that's all!"
Meanwhile Winn was pulling the skiff swiftly beyond reach of danger.
It was none too soon; for before they reached the raft, the glowing
mass behind them reared itself on end as though making a frantic effort
to escape its fate. Then, with a hissing plunge, it disappeared
beneath the turbid flood of the great river. A second later there came
a muffled explosion, and a column of water, capped by a cloud of steam,
shot upward. At the same time the scene was shrouded in a darkness
made absolute by the sudden extinguishing of the fierce light, while
the silence that immediately succeeded the recent uproar seemed
unbroken.
Then the momentary hush was invaded by the sound of many voices, some
of which were uttering groans and cries of pain. A score of fortunates
from the burned packet, who had been driven by the flames to the
extreme after-end of the boat, where they were hidden from the view of
those on the raft, had leaped into the water as they were swept past,
and managed to reach it while Billy Brackett and Winn were away.
Now, by means of the skiff, others whose cries for help located them in
the darkness were picked up. Many persons had escaped soon after the
breaking out of the fire by means of the small boats and life-raft
carried by the packet; while still others, comprising nearly half the
ship's company, were lost. It was one the most terrible of the many
similar disasters recorded in the history of steamboating on the
Mississippi; and to this day the burning of the _Lytle_ is a favorite
theme of conversation among old river men.
When Glen Elting learned the name of the ill-fated craft, he started
and turned pale. "The very packet for which we were waiting!" he
cried, with bated breath. "Oh, Binney, how many things we have to be
thankful for!"
"Indeed we have," answered the boy; "and not the least of them is that
we are in a position to help these poor people, who have been overtaken
by the misfortune that was reaching out for us."
These two were tearing sheets into bandage strips, and dressing wounds
with the salve and ointments found in Major Caspar's medicine chest.
Solon was providing a plentiful supply of hot-water over a roaring fire
in the galley stove, and bustling about among the forlorn assembly,
that, drenched and shivering, had been so suddenly intrusted to his
kindly care. Billy Brackett and Winn rowed in every direction about
the raft so long as there was the slightest hope of picking up a
struggling swimmer.
Their last rescue was that of a man clinging to a state-room door, and
so benumbed with the chill of the water that in a few moments more his
hold must have relaxed. Beside him swam a dog, also nearly exhausted.
When the man was carried into the "shanty," the dog followed him, and
was there seen to be of the same markings and breed as the puppy saved
by Bim. Noting this, Winn hunted it up and brought it to her. It was
hers, and no human mother could have shown more extravagant joy than
did this dog mother at so unexpectedly finding one of her lost babies.
She actually cried with happiness, and fondled her little one until it
protested with all the strength of its feeble voice. Then she lay down
with the puppy cuddled close to her, and one paw thrown protectingly
across it, the picture of perfect content.
Bim had been almost as excited as she, and in spite of his burns, had
circled about the two, and barked until the puppy persuaded its mother
to be quiet. Then Bim and she lay down, nose to nose, and while the
former told his friend how he had found her deserted babies on the boat
and had determined to save them, and how his own dear master had come
in answer to his barks for assistance, she told him how she had been in
the after-part of the boat getting her supper when the flames broke
out, and had gone nearly crazy at finding herself separated from her
little ones. She assured him she would have gone through fire and
water to reach them had not her master thrown her overboard, and
immediately afterwards jumped into the river himself. Then she
believed that all was lost, for in her distress of mind she had
entirely forgotten her brave friend Bim. If she had only remembered
him, she would have been quite at ease, knowing, of course, that he
would find some way of saving at least one of her puppies, which, under
the circumstances, was all that could be expected.
At which Bim jumped up and barked for pure happiness, until his master
said, "That will do, Bim, for the present."