THE SIGNAL GUN
The morning dawned bright and cloudless, with every promise of a spell
of fine weather. But although the hurricane had spent itself, there was
still a heavy sea running which impeded the work of clearing up the
decks and repairing the damage wrought by the storm. In the brilliant,
penetrating sunshine, the _Hawk_ presented a disreputable appearance:
her funnel encrusted with dirty grey rime, both her for'ad derricks a
heap of splintered wood and tangled cordage, her boats smashed to
matchwood, and her decks a depository of wreckage of all sorts.
Dora Fletcher had been able to snatch only a couple of hours' sleep
during the night, but when dawn broke she went to see Calamity. She
found him tossing in his bunk, and murmuring incoherently. When she
spoke to him he showed no sign of comprehension. Sing-hi stood by while
she went to the medicine-chest and took out a bottle of sweet spirits of
nitre. To him she explained what dose he was to give the patient, and
the Chinaman nodded comprehendingly; he had already proved himself a
conscientious and trustworthy sick-nurse, albeit possessed of no
initiative. He would have gone on pouring medicine down the Captain's
throat at intervals long after the latter was dead, unless given
instructions to the contrary.
Her next visit was to Smith, who, as Sing-hi had as much as he could do
in the cabin, was being attended by one of the deck-hands.
"What cher!" he exclaimed genially as she entered, "how's the old man
this morning?"
"In the hot stage now," answered the girl. "But how are you?"
"Not so dusty considerin'. It's a bit orf, though, lying here on a shelf
like a bloomin' parcel that's been left till called for."
"But you're not in pain?"
"Oh, nothing to make a shout about. But how are you getting on with the
crew? I've been expectin' mutiny ever since the skipper was knocked
out."
"I don't think there's much fear of that," answered the girl, and
described her interview with the bos'n on the preceding evening.
"You see," she concluded, "the men are helpless."
"There's something in that," Smith admitted. "By crikey, you're a
bloomin' knock-out, and no kid," he added admiringly.
"I must leave you now," she said, going to the door, "but I'll look in
again later on."
"Right you are, sir," replied the patient jocularly.
When she entered the foc'sle to see the injured quartermaster some of
the men, impelled by a rude courtesy, rose to their feet, but there were
others who regarded her with an air of aloofness which almost amounted
to defiance. Having ascertained that the patient was progressing as
favourably as could be expected, she left the foc'sle and was met on
the for'ad deck by the bos'n, who appeared to be in an agitated state of
mind.
"Been looking for you everywhere, Miss," he said breathlessly. "Didn't
you 'ear the gun?"
"Gun! What gun?"
"A signal from somewheres astern. Struck me it might be the _Satellite_
in trouble, Miss."
The only thing to do under the circumstances was to search for the
vessel in distress. The girl went on the bridge, and, telling the
quartermaster to stand aside, took the wheel herself. At the same moment
she heard the distant boom of a gun, obviously a signal for help. It now
became necessary to bring the _Hawk_ round in a semi-circle and this, in
such a sea, was a task which called for extremely nice judgment and
skilful seamanship. Yet the amazing young woman accomplished it without
mishap, though once, when broadside on to a beam sea, those on board
experienced a few nasty moments with a solid mountain of green water
towering above them, and looking as if it must fall upon the ship and
crush her under its stupendous weight.
"S'truth!" ejaculated the bos'n softly when the steamer's nose swung
round to meet the oncoming rollers, "that was touch-and-go if you like.
But she can 'andle a boat, can that gal."
And the carpenter, who stood near him, agreed.
Suddenly the look-out shouted "Ship on the port bow!" and, giving the
wheel to the quartermaster, Dora Fletcher snatched up the glasses and
looked in the direction indicated. There, sure enough, was a vessel
which looked remarkably like the _Satellite_, but, most amazing thing of
all, _she was not rolling_, and the seas were breaking clean over her.
In a flash the girl divined what had happened; the gunboat had struck
some uncharted reef and was firmly wedged aground. Presumably,
therefore, she was making water fast and the only thing to do was to get
the crew and prisoners off as quickly as possible.
"Signal we're coming to her assistance," said the girl, and the bos'n
hoisted the flags, H.F. The reply came immediately, "Want a tow, no
damage."
"Gawd, she must 'ave struck a feather piller instead o' a reef,"
commented the bos'n _sotto voce_, as he communicated the reply to Miss
Fletcher.
Slowly the _Hawk_ bore down to leeward of the stranded vessel,
signalling the _Satellite_ to send a boat with tow-lines, for it was far
too perilous to come near enough for the lines to be thrown from one
ship to the other. Thanks to Mr. Dykes's foresight in having thrown out
oil-bags, the sea around the _Satellite_ had subsided considerably and a
boat was lowered without much difficulty. But as soon as she got outside
the oil radius the frail cockleshell of a boat was tossed about like a
cork, and more than once it looked as if she must inevitably be swamped
and capsized. But she fought her way manfully, and at last came within
hailing distance of the _Hawk_.
"Stand off!" shouted the girl through a megaphone. "Heave from where you
are."
The wisdom of this order was apparent to all, for, had the boat come
much nearer or attempted to get alongside, she would almost certainly
have been swept against the steamer and crushed to pieces. So while the
crew kept her head-on to the sea, the man in the bows waited for a
favourable opportunity. It came when the boat was carried upwards on the
crest of a huge wave till on a level with the _Hawk's_ bridge; then he
stood up, and, swinging one of the lines round his head, gave it a
cast. The thin rope leapt through the air in a long, sinuous curve, and
descended on the steamer's deck, where it was promptly caught and
secured to the drum of a steam-winch. Then ensued another period of
tense waiting before a chance came to send the other line aboard; but it
was successfully accomplished at last, and the boat started on its
return journey.
As soon as the second line had been secured the steam-winches were
started and began to wind in the lines until the hawsers appeared under
the _Hawk's_ stern, one on each side.
"Vast heaving!" came the order.
Then, with the assistance of the winches, the ends of the hawsers were
carried through the hawse-holes and parcelled with chafing-mats to
lessen the friction. The _Hawk_ was now astern of the _Satellite_, which
was to be towed off the reef stern foremost, and the work would commence
as soon as the hawsers had been made secure.
At last the bos'n reported all ready and the girl rang down "Stand by"
to the engine-room. There was a tense pause, and then she again moved
the lever. A faint "ting-ting" came from below, the telegraph pointer
swung round to "Slow," and the _Hawk's_ engines began to move with a
steady, ponderous beat. All eyes were fixed upon the hawsers, which, as
the steamer began to move, slowly raised their dripping lengths from the
water. Then the moment arrived when the great ropes tautened till they
vibrated under the tension like fiddle-strings when a bow is passed
across them. The _Hawk_, which had been slowly forging ahead, seemed to
pull up with a sudden jerk, and then gradually slide back, stern
foremost, in her own wake, while the hawsers sagged and dipped into the
sea. The girl on the bridge waited with her hand on the telegraph, every
nerve braced as if for stupendous effort, while she watched the hawsers
disappear. Then, as the _Hawk's_ stern-way was arrested, she rang down
"Half speed" and the engines pulsated with quickened beats.
Again the hawsers grew taut as the steamer forged ahead, only to recoil
once more like a straining hound suddenly jerked back by its leash. But
this time the recoil was only momentary and then she gathered a little
way, while, at the same moment, the _Satellite_ was seen to move. Once
more Dora Fletcher pressed the lever of the telegraph, the decks
vibrated to the thunderous beat of the engines, and, to the
accompaniment of a cheer from the anxious watchers, the gunboat slid
gently into deep water.
"Gawd!" ejaculated the bos'n, wiping the sweat from his brow, and the
monosyllable was more eloquent than an oration.
With a little moan of utter fatigue which was not that of the body only,
Dora Fletcher slipped into the chart-room and flung herself on the
settee. The terrible nervous strain of these hours when she alone had
been responsible for the safety of the _Hawk_ and all those souls
aboard, added to the strain of the last hour, had been too much for her.
She collapsed suddenly in a dead faint, and it was thus that McPhulach
discovered her when he put his head into the chart-room some fifteen
minutes later.