‘Now just for that, you can go and get the sounding-pole yourself.
I was going after it, but I’d see you in Halifax, now, before I’d do it.’
‘Who wants you to get it? I don’t. It’s in the sounding-boat.’
‘It ain’t, either. It’s been new-painted; and it’s been up on the ladies’
cabin guards two days, drying.’
I flew back, and shortly arrived among the crowd of watching
and wondering ladies just in time to hear the command:
‘Give way, men!’
I looked over, and there was the gallant sounding-boat booming away,
the unprincipled Tom presiding at the tiller, and my chief sitting by him
with the sounding-pole which I had been sent on a fool’s errand to fetch.
Then that young girl said to me–
‘Oh, how awful to have to go out in that little boat on such a night!
Do you think there is any danger?’
I would rather have been stabbed. I went off, full of venom,
to help in the pilot-house. By and by the boat’s lantern disappeared,
and after an interval a wee spark glimmered upon the face of the water
a mile away. Mr. Thornburg blew the whistle, in acknowledgment,
backed the steamer out, and made for it. We flew along for a while,
then slackened steam and went cautiously gliding toward the spark.
Presently Mr. Thornburg exclaimed–
‘Hello, the buoy-lantern’s out!’
He stopped the engines. A moment or two later he said–
‘Why, there it is again!’
So he came ahead on the engines once more, and rang for the leads.
Gradually the water shoaled up, and then began to deepen again!
Mr. Thornburg muttered–
‘Well, I don’t understand this. I believe that buoy has drifted
off the reef. Seems to be a little too far to the left.
No matter, it is safest to run over it anyhow.’
So, in that solid world of darkness we went creeping down on the light.
Just as our bows were in the act of plowing over it, Mr. Thornburg seized
the bell-ropes, rang a startling peal, and exclaimed–
‘My soul, it’s the sounding-boat!’
A sudden chorus of wild alarms burst out far below–a pause–
and then the sound of grinding and crashing followed.
Mr. Thornburg exclaimed–
‘There! the paddle-wheel has ground the sounding-boat
to lucifer matches! Run! See who is killed!’
I was on the main deck in the twinkling of an eye. My chief and the third
mate and nearly all the men were safe. They had discovered their danger
when it was too late to pull out of the way; then, when the great guards
overshadowed them a moment later, they were prepared and knew what to do;
at my chiefs order they sprang at the right instant, seized the guard,
and were hauled aboard. The next moment the sounding-yawl swept aft
to the wheel and was struck and splintered to atoms. Two of the men and
the cub Tom, were missing–a fact which spread like wildfire over the boat.
The passengers came flocking to the forward gangway, ladies and all,
anxious-eyed, white-faced, and talked in awed voices of the dreadful thing.
And often and again I heard them say, ‘Poor fellows! poor boy, poor boy!’
By this time the boat’s yawl was manned and away, to search
for the missing. Now a faint call was heard, off to the left.
The yawl had disappeared in the other direction. Half the people
rushed to one side to encourage the swimmer with their shouts;
the other half rushed the other way to shriek to the yawl to turn about.
By the callings, the swimmer was approaching, but some said the sound
showed failing strength. The crowd massed themselves against
the boiler-deck railings, leaning over and staring into the gloom;
and every faint and fainter cry wrung from them such words as,
‘Ah, poor fellow, poor fellow! is there no way to save him?’
But still the cries held out, and drew nearer, and presently
the voice said pluckily–
‘I can make it! Stand by with a rope!’
What a rousing cheer they gave him! The chief mate took his stand
in the glare of a torch-basket, a coil of rope in his hand,