Whilst the chief mate, aided by the now willing crew, ran aft the hose
and set to work to flood the trade-room, Latour the steward, a smart
little Frenchman, taking a man with him, jumped below and knocked loudly
at the door of Tessa's cabin, which was the foremost but one of five
on the starboard side, the intervening one separating it from the
trade-room. There was no answer to his repeated cries and knocking. Then
he and the native sailor each tried to force the door, but it defied
their efforts, and then, as they paused for a moment, they heard the
crackling sound of fire within a few feet of them.
The native seaman, a big, square-shouldered Manhikian, looked around the
main cabin for a second; then he darted into the second mate's cabin,
and returned with a carpenter's broad axe. One smashing blow with the
back of the tool started the lock, and a second sent the door flying
open.
The lamp was burning brightly, but both Tessa and Maoni were sunk in a
heavy slumber, and although Latour called loudly to them to arise, they
made no answer, though Tessa tried to sit up, and her lips moved as she
muttered incoherently, only to fall back again with closed eyelids.
There was no time to lose. Latour lifted Tessa out of her berth,
and followed by the native, who carried Maoni, they hurried up the
companion-way, and laid the two girls down upon the quarter-deck, where
Malua took charge of them.
For nearly ten minutes the mate and crew worked hard to subdue the fire,
and all might have gone well had there been a sufficient head of steam
to keep the ship head to wind and the donkey-engine going, but at the
first alarm the drunken, cowardly firemen had refused duty and tried to
rush one of the boats, and amidst the curses and blows which Carr
and Atkins were showering upon them another mighty sea tumbled aboard
for'ard, and the _Motutapu_ was half-smothered again.
Morrison crawled up exhaustedly on the deck from the engine-room.
“It's a case as far as steaming goes, Mr. Atkins. I'm done up. Send some
one down into the stokehole for Mr. Studdert. He dropped a minute
ago. But if you'll give me a couple of your men I can keep the engines
going.”
“It's no use, Morrison. None of my men would go into the stokehole
to work, but they'll bring Mr. Studdert up quick enough. The ship is
doomed, so don't bother. We'll have to take to the boats.”
The _Motutapu_ was indeed doomed, for, despite the frantic efforts of
Oliver and the native crew, the fire had gained complete possession of
the saloon, though every opening on deck had been battened down and all
cabin ports had been closed. Most fortunately, however, the fore part
of the trade-room, where the powder was stowed, had been thoroughly
saturated, and both Oliver and Atkins felt assured that no danger need
be apprehended from that source.
In a few minutes the engines ceased to work, but the donkey-engine on
deck, with its furnace filled with cotton waste soaked in kerosene, kept
the hose going, and sent a steady stream of water through the hole cut
in the after-deck. Meanwhile Harvey and the second mate, aided by the
energetic little French steward, had made good progress with the
boats, all three of which were ready for lowering, and contained some
provisions and water. Such fore and aft canvas as the steamer carried
was set, so as to keep her to the wind as much as possible, and help to
steady her. Then, seeing that the flames were bursting through the sides
of the saloon skylight, and that the ship would scarcely answer her helm
under such miserable canvas, Oliver abandoned all hope of saving her.
“All ready, sir?” replied Atkins.
And then before they could be stopped the firemen made a rush for the
best boat of the three, a fine new whaler, hanging in davits just abaft
the bridge. Four of them jumped into her, the remaining two cast off the
falls, and began to lower away hastily.
“You cowardly dogs!” shouted the second mate, rushing up to the nearest
man, tearing the after-fall out of his hands, and making it fast
again round the cleet, and then springing at the other man, who paused
irresolutely, intimidated by Atkin's threatening visage. But though he
paused but momentarily, it was fatal, for the instant the mate's back
was turned the first man, with an oath of drunken defiance, cast off the
fall and let it go with a run, just as the _Motutapu_ was heaved up by a
lofty sea, and rolled heavily to port.
A cry of terror burst from the four doomed men in the boat, as they fell
headlong into the sea, and she hung by the for'ard fall, straight up and
down.
“Let them drown!” roared Atkins to some native seamen who sprang to his
assistance, “overboard two or three of you, and save the boat. She'll
be smashed to matchwood in a minute, the after-fall has unshipped;” then
whipping a knife from the belt of one of them he severed the remaining
fall, and saw the boat plunge down sternwards and outwards from the side
just in time; another half-minute and she would have disappeared under
the steamer's bottom to be hopelessly stove in. And with cries of
encouragement to each other, four natives leapt over the side, swam
after her, clambered in and then shouted that they were all right,
and would come alongside and stand by, for although the oars and other
fittings had been lost, there were half a dozen canoe paddles lashed
under the thwarts, and these were quickly brought into use.
All this happened in a few minutes, and as Atkins ran to assist Harvey
with the two quarter boats which had been lowered, and were now standing
by alongside, there came a sudden crashing of glass, as the flames in
the saloon burst through the sides of the skylight, and drove every one
to the main deck.
“That settles the matter,” said Oliver quietly to Harvey, as a sudden
gust of flame leapt from the lee side of the skylight, and caught the
fore and aft mainsail, which was quickly destroyed; then the steamer at
once fell off, and the flames began to travel for'ard.
With all possible speed, but without excitement, Tessa and Maoni, who
were still under the influence of the drugged coffee, and unable to
stand, or even utter a word, were placed in the first boat, of which
Atkins took charge for the time, with four natives as a crew. The second
quarter boat, in which Hendry and Chard had been placed, then came
alongside, and the two surviving firemen, now thoroughly cowed and
trembling, and terrified into a mechanical sobriety, were brought to the
gangway and told to jump.
“Jump, you rotten beggars, jump,” said Morrison; “over you go into the
water if you want to save your useless lives. The men in the boat will
pick you up. We are not going to risk bringing her alongside for the
sake of swine like you. Over you go,” and then seizing one of them by
the collar of his shirt and the belt, he sent him flying over the side,
the other man jumping over to avoid rougher treatment from the native
seamen, who were disgusted at their cowardice. Then Morrison, Studdert,
and three natives followed, and the boat pulled away clear of the ship,
and stood by.
“Pull up, boys!” cried Oliver to the men in the third boat--the one
which the firemen had rushed. Then turning to Latour, who was standing
near him with a sack half full of heavy articles--firearms, ammunition,
the ship's books, etc.--he bade him go first.
Disdaining to wait for the boat to come alongside the little Frenchman
sprang over the side and swam to the boat; then the bag--its contents
too precious to be wetted--was adroitly lowered and caught by one of the
hands. Jessop, the second steward, whose limbs were shaking with terror,
was told to jump, but pleaded that he could not swim.
“You miserable hound!” cried Oliver fiercely, and he raised his hand to
strike him; then a scornful pity took the place of anger, and he ordered
the boat to come alongside so that he could get in.
“Now's your chance, you dirty little cur,” he said, as the boat's bow
came within a foot of the steamer's side.
The fear-stricken man jumped, fell short, and in an instant disappeared
under the ship, as she rolled suddenly to starboard. When he came to the
surface again it was at the stern, with several broken ribs, he having
struck against the propeller. He was, however, soon rescued and placed
in safety, and then but three natives and Harvey and Oliver remained
on board. The natives went first, the white men quickly followed, and
clambered into the boat, which at once joined the two others, and then
all three lay to, and their occupants watched the _Motutapu_ drifting
before the wind, with the red flames enveloping her from stern to stem.
*****
Ordering the other boats to remain close to him until further orders,
but to steer W. by N. if anything should part them from him during the
night, Oliver and Harvey, as they watched the burning steamer lighting
up the heaving sea for miles around, discussed their future plans, and
quickly resolved upon a certain course of action to be followed in the
morning.
Towards midnight the wind died away entirely, and an hour later the
heavy, lumpy sea changed into a long, sweeping swell. A mile to leeward
the _Motutafu_ still blazed fiercely, and sent up vast volumes of smoke
and flame from her forehold, where some hundreds of cases of kerosene
were stowed.
The three boats were pretty close together, and Harvey, exhausted by the
events of the day, and knowing that Tessa was safe with the second mate,
was just dozing off into a “monkey's sleep” when he was awakened by a
hail from Atkins.
“What's the matter, Atkins?” cried Oliver.
“We're all right, sir; but Miss Remington has just come to, and is
asking for Mr. Carr, so I said I'd hail you just to show her that he is
with you. Better let me come alongside.”
Oliver looked at Harvey with something like a smile in his eyes.
“All right, Atkins,” he replied, and then to Harvey, “Here, wake up
young-fellow-my-lad, and get into the other boat with your sweetheart. I
don't want you here. What's the use of you if you haven't even a bit of
tobacco to give me?”
The second mate's boat drew alongside, and in another minute Harvey was
seated in the stern sheets with Tessa's cheek against his own, and her
arms round his neck.
“Any of you fellows got any tobacco, and a pipe to spare?” said the
prosaic Oliver. “If you haven't, sheer off.”
“Lashings of everything,” said Atkins.
“Here you are: two pipes, matches, bottle of Jimmy Hennessy, and some
water and biscuits. What more can you want? Who wouldn't sell a farm and
go to sea?”