THE EMERGENCY DAM
The crashing and splintering of wood, the grinding of one vessel
against the other at the concrete pier, the shrill tooting of the
whistles, and the confused shouts of the respective captains of
the craft made a din out of which it seemed order would never
come.
"If I could only get this on a film!" said Joe to himself during a
calm moment. But the cameras were below in the cabin, and the tug
was now careened at such an angle that it was risky to cross the
decks. Besides Joe must think of saving himself, for it looked as
though the tug would be crushed and sunk.
"Pull us out of here!" yelled Captain Watson to the man on the
lock wall in charge of the electrical towing locomotives. "Pull us
out!"
That seemed one way out of the trouble, for the _Nama_ was being
crushed between the Brazilian steamer and the wall. But the order
had come too late, for now the tug was wedged in, and no power
could move her without tearing her to pieces, until the pressure
of the big steamer was removed.
So, wisely, the men in charge of the towing machines did not
follow Captain Watson's orders.
"Over this way!" cried Blake to his chum, and to Mr. Alcando, who
were standing amid-ships. Joe was at the bow, and because that was
narrower than the main portion of the tug, it had not yet been
subjected to the awful pressure.
But there was no need of Joe or the others, including Captain
Watson, changing their positions. The Brazilian ship now began
drawing away, aided by her own engines, and by the tow ropes
extending from the other side of the lock wall. The _Nama_, which
had been partly lifted up in the air, as a vessel in the Arctic
Ocean is lifted when two ice floes begin to squeeze her, now
dropped down again, and began settling slowly in the water.
"She's sinking!" cried Blake. "Our cameras--our films, Joe!"
"Yes, we must save them!" his chum shouted.
"I'll help!" offered the Spaniard. "Are we really sinking?"
"Of course!" shouted Captain Watson. "How could anything else
happen after being squeezed in that kind of a cider press? We'll
go to the bottom sure!"
"Leave the boat!" yelled one of the men on top of the lock wall.
"We're going to tow you out of the way, so when you sink you won't
block the lock!"
"Let's get out our stuff!" Blake cried again, and realizing, but
hardly understanding, what was happening, the boys rushed below to
save what they could.
Fortunately it was the opening of many seams, caused by the
crushing process, rather than any great hole stove in her, that
had brought about the end of the _Nama_. She began to sink slowly
at the pier, and there was time for the removal of most of the
articles of value belonging to the boys and Mr. Alcando.
Hastily the cameras, the boxes of exposed and unexposed film, were
hoisted out, and then when all had been saved that could be
quickly put ashore, the tug was slowly towed out of the way, where
it could sink and not be a menace to navigation, and without
blocking the locks.
"Poor _Nama_" murmured Captain Watson. "To go down like that, and
not your own fault, either," and he looked over with no very
friendly eyes toward the Brazilian steamer, which had suffered no
damage more than to her paint.
"You can raise her again," suggested one of the lock men.
"Yes, but she'll never be the same," sorrowfully complained her
commander. "Never the same!"
"How did it happen?" asked Blake. "Was there a misunderstanding in
signals?"
"Must have been something like that," Captain Watson answered.
"That vessel ought to have stayed tied up on her own side of the
lock. Instead she came over here under her own steam and crashed
into me. I'm going to demand an investigation. Do you know anyone
on board her?" he asked quickly of the Spaniard. "I saw you waving
to someone."
"Why, yes, the captain is a distant relative of mine," was the
somewhat unexpected answer. "I did not know he was going to take
his vessel through the Canal, though. I was surprised to see him.
But I am sure you will find that Captain Martail will give you
every explanation."
"I don't want explanations--I want satisfaction!" growled the tug
captain.
"There goes the _Nama_," called Blake, pointing to the tug.
As he spoke she began to settle more rapidly in the water, but she
did not sink altogether from sight, as she was towed toward the
shore, and went down in rather shallow water, where she could be
more easily reached for repairs.
"It was a narrow escape," Joe said. "What are we to do now, Blake?
Too bad we didn't get some moving pictures of that accident."
"Well, maybe it's a good thing we didn't," returned his chum. "The
Canal is supposed to be so safe, and free from the chance of
accidents, that it might injure its reputation if a picture of a
collision like that were shown. Maybe it's just as well."
"Better," agreed Captain Watson. "As you say, the Canal is
supposed to be free from accidents. And, when everything gets
working smoothly, there will be none to speak of. Some of the
electrical controlling devices are not yet in place. If they had
been that vessel never could have collided with us."
"I should think her captain would know better than to signal for
her to proceed under her own power in the Canal lock," spoke Joe.
"Possibly there was some error in transmitting signals on board,"
suggested Mr. Alcando. And later they learned that this was,
indeed, the case; or at least that was the reason assigned by the
Brazilian commander for the accident. His vessel got beyond
control.
"Well, it's lucky she didn't ram the gates, and let out a flood of
water," said Joe to Blake a little after the occurrence.
"Yes, if that had happened we'd have had to make pictures whether
we wanted to or not. But I wonder what we are going to do for a
boat now?"
However, that question was easily settled, for there were other
Government vessels to be had, and Blake, Joe and Mr. Alcando, with
their cameras, films and other possessions, were soon transferred,
to continue their trip, in the _Bohio_, which was the name of the
new vessel. The _Nama_ was left for the wrecking crew.
"Well, this isn't exactly the quiet life we looked for in the
canal zone; is it, Blake?" asked Joe that night as he and his chum
were putting their new stateroom to rights.
"Hardly. Things have begun to happen, and I've noticed, Joe, that,
once they begin, they keep up. I think we are in for something."
"Do you mean a big slide in Culebra Cut?"
"Well, that may be only part of it. I have a feeling in my bones,
somehow or other, that we're on the eve of something big."
"Say, for instance--"
"I can't," answered Blake, as Joe paused. "But I'm sure something
is going to happen."
"No more collisions, I hope," his chum ventured. "Do you know,
Blake, I've wondered several times whether that one to-day was not
done on purpose."
Blake stared at his chum, and then, to Joe's surprise replied:
"And I've been thinking the same thing."
"You have?" Joe exclaimed. "Now I say--"
"Hush!" cautioned Blake quickly, "he's coming!"
The door of their stateroom opened, and Mr. Alcando entered. He
had a room across the corridor.
"Am I intruding?" he asked. "If I am--"
"Not at all. Come in," answered Blake, with a meaning look at his
chum.
"I wanted to ask you something about making double exposures on
the same film," the Spaniard went on. "You know what I mean; when
a picture is shown of a person sitting by a fireside, say, and
above him or her appears a vision of other days."
"Oh, yes, we can tell you how that is done," Joe said, and the
rest of the evening was spent in technical talk.
"Well, what were you going to say about that collision?" asked Joe
of Blake when Mr. Alcando had left them, at nearly midnight.
"I don't think it's exactly safe to say what I think," was Blake's
response. "I think he is--suspicious of us," he finished in a
whisper. "Let's watch and await developments."
"But what object could he--"
"Never mind--now," rejoined Blake, with a gesture of caution.
Several busy days followed the sinking of the _Nama_. The moving
picture boys went through the Miraflores locks, making some fine
films, and then proceeded on to the Pacific Ocean breakwater, thus
making a complete trip through the Canal, obtaining a series of
pictures showing scenes all along the way. They also took several
views in the city of Panama itself.
Of course theirs was not the first vessel to make the complete
trip, so that feature lost something of its novelty. But the boys
were well satisfied with their labors.
"We're not through, though, by any means," said Blake. "We have to
get some pictures of Gatun Dam from the lower side. I think a few
more jungle scenes, and some along the Panama Railroad, wouldn't
go bad."
"That's right," agreed Joe.
So they prepared to make the trip back again to Colon.
Once more they were headed for the locks, this time to be lifted
up at Miraflores, instead of being let down. They approached the
central pier, were taken in charge by the electrical locomotives,
and the big chain was lowered so they could proceed.
Just as the lower gate was being swung open to admit them to the
lock, there was a cry of warning from above.
"What's that?" cried Joe.
"I don't know," Blake answered, "but it sounds as though something
were going to happen. I didn't have all those feelings for
nothing!"
Then came a cry:
"The upper gate! The upper gate is open! The water is coming down!
Put the emergency dam in place! Quick!"
Joe and Blake looked ahead to see the upper gates, which were
supposed to remain closed until the boat had risen to the upper
level, swing open, and an immense quantity of foamy water rush
out. It seemed about to overwhelm them.