The Captain of the Kansas Read online

  CHAPTER IV

  ELSIE GOES ON DECK

  As a little yeast leavens much flour so does the presence of a fewstout-hearted men give strength and courage to a multitude. Althoughthe rumor soon went the rounds that the giant wave which pooped theship had carried away two of her six boats, there were no visible signsof flurry in the measures taken to equip the remaining boats for use.The men had confidence in their officers; every one worked smoothly andwell.

  All told, there were eighty persons on board when the _Kansas_ leftValparaiso. Of these, seventeen, including the officers, were ofEuropean birth or lineage. The remaining sixty-three were men of mixednationalities, ranging from Spanish-speaking Chileans to negroes.There were eight under-stewards, a cook and his assistants, and nearlyfifty sailors and firemen. Unfortunately, the explosion in thestokehold had killed the chief engineer and one of his juniors, whilesix stokers were dead and several injured.

  It was discovered that, before he died, the chief had shut off steam,and thus prevented the accident from assuming far more seriousproportions. The second engineer, a Newcastle man named Walker, whorushed to the engine-room at the first indication of a mishap, foundhis chief lying in collapse on the lever platform. Walker promptlyopened certain levers which allowed the steam to escape freely; then hecarried his comrade out of the spume to the deck. It was too late.Partial suffocation had placed too great a strain on a diseased heart;by the time Dr. Christobal was summoned, a brave man was dead.

  Courtenay, who had left instructions that he was to be called when theEvangelistas light was sighted, was sound asleep. In the elevatedquarters assigned to the captain, the noise of the explosion differedlittle from the thunderous blows of the sea. But the stopping of theengines awoke him instantly. He felt the ship lurch away from hercourse, and saw the quick swerve of the compass indicator over hishead. As he ran down the gangway leading from the bridge he heard theofficer of the watch say:

  "Something given way in the engine-room, sir."

  Several minutes elapsed before he, or Walker, aided by willingvolunteers, could penetrate the depths of the stoke-hold. The placewas a charnel-house, a stifling pit, filled with the charred contentsof the furnaces, which gave off the most noisome fumes owing to therapid condensation of steam and water escaping from the damaged pipes.But the gale raging without served one good purpose in driving plentyof air down the ventilating cowls. Gradually, the choking atmospherecleared. Courtenay was the first to reach the lowermost rung of theiron ladder, whence he looked with the eyes of despair on a scene ofdeath and ruin.

  The electric light was uninjured. It revealed the bodies of severalmen, either dead or insensible, lying amidst the scattered coal.Shovels, stoking-rods, and pieces of iron plate had been hurled aboutin wild confusion. The door of one furnace was blown clean out of itsbolts; furnace bars and fire-bricks strewed the iron deck, while, eachtime the ship rolled, the heavy clank of loose metal somewhere in theengine-room proved that the damage was not confined solely to thestoke-hold.

  If Courtenay could have dropped quietly into the sea through the stouthull of the _Kansas_ he would have welcomed the certain result in thatbitter moment. But he was the captain, and men would look to him forsalvation. Well, he would do all that was possible, and, at any rate,die at his post. So, choking back his misery, he organized the work ofrescue. Slings were formed of ropes, and those men in whom any signsof life were visible were the first to be lifted to the upper deck.The stoke-hold was quickly emptied of its inanimate occupants; livingand dead alike were carried to the untenanted second-class saloonforward. Then Courtenay left Walker to solve the puzzle of theaccident and report on its extent, while he climbed back to the bridge,there to tackle the far more pressing problem of the measures to beadopted if he would save his ship.

  It was typical of the man that his first act was to wipe the grime ofthe stoke-hold off his face and hands. Then he drew a chart from thelocker in which he had placed it two hours earlier. Mr. Boyle, who hadbeen attending to the signals both by siren and rocket, joined him.Courtenay pointed to a pin-mark in the sheet.

  "We were there at six o'clock," he said, and his voice was so steadythat he seemed now to be free from the least touch of anxiety. "Thecourse was South-40-East, and, against this wind and sea, together witha strong current to the nor'east, we would make eight knots under easysteam. Therefore, by eight o'clock, when the furnaces blew out, wewere here."

  He jabbed in a pin a little further down the chart. Mr. Boyle, whosepeculiar gifts in the way of speech were accurately described by Dr.Christobal, grunted agreement.

  "Huh," he said.

  Courtenay glanced at a chronometer.

  "It is now a quarter to nine," he went on, "and I reckon that since theship swung round we have been carried at least six knots to thenor'east."

  "Huh," growled Mr. Boyle again, but he bent a trifle nearer the chart.To his sailor's eyes the situation was quite simple. Unless, by God'sprovidence, some miracle happened, the _Kansas_ was a doomed ship. Thepin stuck where the Admiralty chart recorded soundings of one hundredfathoms with a fine sand bed. The longitude was 75-50 west ofGreenwich and latitude 51-35 south. Staring at them from the otherwiseblank space which showed the wide expanse of the Pacific was an ominousnote by the compilers of the chart:

  "Seamen are cautioned not to make free with these shores, as they arevery imperfectly known, and, from their wild, desolate character, theycannot be approached with safety."

  Right in the track of the drifting ship lay a vaguely outlined trio ofdread import: "Breakers; Islet (conical); Duncan Rock." Behind thissinister barrier stood the more definite White Horse Island, while,running due north and south a few miles away to the eastward, was awavering dotted line which professed to mark the coast of HanoverIsland. Lending a fearful significance to the unknown character of theregion, a printed comment followed the dotted line: "This coast is laiddown from distant observations on board the Beagle." So the sea faceof Hanover Island had not been visited by civilized man for nearlysixty years! There, not three hours' steaming distance from theregular track of Chilean commerce, was a place so guarded by reefs onone hand, and impenetrable, ice-capped mountains on the other, that aproper survey was deemed impracticable even by officers of the BritishNavy, a service which has charted nearly every rock and shoal and tinyislet on the face of the waters.

  Neither man spoke while their practised scrutiny took in these details.The roaring chaos of the gale told what fate awaited them. Theelemental forces had donned the black cap of the judge and sentencedthem to speedy destruction.

  Mr. Boyle pursed his lips; he looked sideways at Courtenay.

  "Huh," he said. "What's to be done?"

  "I propose," answered the captain, coolly, "to endeavor--"

  It was then that the giant wave leaped madly over the poop, as thoughthe sea were resolved to swallow its prey without further warning. Thesecond officer, outside on the bridge, had to cling to a stanchion forhis life. Courtenay and Boyle saw two boats wrenched from their davitsand carried overboard, while a bulkhead forward was smashed intomatchwood. The half-caste quarter-master at the wheel muttered"Madonna!" and tried to remember a prayer.

  "I propose," continued Courtenay, raising his voice so that the othermight hear, "to give the ship steering-way by hoisting the foresail.Will you see to it? Then I intend to warn the passengers, and makesuch preparations as are possible before we strike."

  "Huh," agreed Mr. Boyle. He took the short cut over the rails. In afew seconds the captain heard a flow of ornate Spanish, and he knewthat Mr. Boyle was getting the scared Chileans to work.

  Then Courtenay went to his own cabin, in which, in the haste of hisexit, he had imprisoned Joey. The dog received him with delight, forJoey knew a real gale from a sham one, as well as any man before themast. Courtenay patted his head, opened a drawer in the writing-table,and drew forth two photographs, which he kissed. He replaced them,locked the drawer, and went out, letting the d
og come with him. Thatwas his farewell to his mother and sister; it was the first and lastsign of sentiment he exhibited during that night of great endurance.

  When he returned from the saloon, he found the chief officer examiningthe chart.

  "Do you think we have any chance of making Concepcion Strait?" heasked, pointing to the doubtfully marked channel which separatesHanover and Duke of York Islands.

  "If we set the mains'le we might bear up a bit."

  "Try it."

  "Huh," said Mr. Boyle, and he was off again into the spindrift.

  Be it understood that the sails carried by a big vessel like the_Kansas_ are of little practical value save under certain conditions ofwind and sea, when they are rigged to steady her, and thus give help tohelm and propeller. Still, they might serve now to carry the ship apoint or two towards the north, and this was the sole avenue of escapewhich remained. Here, again, was one of those trivial circumstanceswhich are so potent in the shaping of events. Had either of the sailsblown out, or had the mainsail been set at the same time as theforesail, the course followed during the next few hours must have beendeviated from to some extent, and the alteration of a cable's length indirection could not fail to exercise the most momentous result on thefortunes of the _Kansas_. But ships are singularly akin to men inrespect to the apparent vagaries of fate. A moment's hesitation, amere pace to right or left, may mean all the difference between successand failure, safety and danger.

  Leaving the chart on the table, where it was secured by drawing-pins,Courtenay went back to his cabin to obtain a pair of sea-boots. SeeingJoey sitting on his tail and shivering, unable to indulge in acomfortable lick because the taste of salt water was hateful, he huntedfor a padded mackintosh coat which he had procured for the dog'sprotection in cold latitudes. He ransacked two lockers before he foundit. Several articles were tumbled in a heap on the floor in his haste,and he did not trouble to pack them away again. He buckled Joey intothe garment, fastened his own oilskins, and rejoined the second officeron the bridge. A glance showed him the dark wall of the mainsailrising abaft the after funnel. The quarter-master at the wheel, havingrecovered his wits, was keeping the ship's nose up to the wind by asteady pressure to port. The gale was as fierce as ever. The secondofficer shouted in Courtenay's ear:

  "I am afraid, sir, the wind has shifted a point."

  Courtenay looked at the compass. The ship was bearing exactlynortheast. He had hoped that the sails would enable her to shape duenorth, at least; unquestionably some spiteful fiend was urging herheadlong to ruin. Had the wind but veered as much to the south, hemight have chanced the run through Concepcion Strait, or even weatheredDuke of York Island. He nodded to his junior, whose presence on thebridge was a mere matter of form, owing to the powerless condition ofthe ship and the impenetrable wrack of foam and mist that barred visionahead, and strode off on a tour of inspection. As wind and sea werenow beating more directly on the port side, there was some degree ofshelter along the covered-in deck to starboard. He found that twoboats had been cleared of their hamper and lowered on the davits untilthey could be swung in on the promenade deck. The men were thus ableto provision them more easily than in their exposed berths on the spardeck. He watched the workers for a few minutes, showed them how tostow and lash some biscuit tins more securely, and continued hissurvey, meaning to look in on Walker and the doctor.

  He had to pass the cabins set apart for the two girls. The ports werelighted, and through one window he could see some one peering out athim. Owing to the thickness of the glass and its blurred condition, hecould not tell whether the occupant was Elsie or Isobel, or Isobel'smaid, but, whoever it was, a hand seemed to signal to him to open thedoor.

  He unfastened the bolts, and held a half door slightly ajar. Joey,ever eager to be out of the pelting storm, hopped inside, and Courtenayheard Elsie exclaim:

  "Good gracious, Joey! Where is your life-belt?"

  "Do you want anything?" asked Courtenay, through the chink.

  Elsie smiled at him. She was wrapped in a heavy ulster, and had a Tamo' Shanter tied firmly on her head by a stout veil.

  "Mr. Malcolm thought we had better bring life-belts from our cabins. Icame for mine, and I looked out and saw you. I wanted to ask you whathad become of Dr. Christobal. I hope you don't mind?"

  "Not in the least. I am just going to him. Would you care to come?"

  "Oh, I shall be most pleased."

  "He is attending the injured men, you know. And there are--othersthere, who are beyond his help."

  "Perhaps I may be of some assistance."

  "Come, then. When I open the door, step out quickly and hold tight tothat rail. And don't move until I tell you."

  His manner was curt enough to please the superioress of a nunnery.Elsie was awed instantly by the glimpse she obtained of the flying scudwithin the narrow area of the saloon lights, but she obeyed directions,and presently found herself clinging desperately to the brass hand-railwhich ran, breast high, along the outer wall of her cabin. She sawCourtenay kneel to fasten a bolt, and she wondered how a man encumberedwith heavy boots could be so active. Then she felt an arm grip hertightly round the waist, and she heard a voice, which sounded as if ithad traveled down a long corridor, shouting in her ear:

  "Lean well back and trust to me. Let go!"

  She had no idea that wind could blow like that, especially when theship was going in the same direction. It shrieked and whistled andtore at the canvas side-awnings with a vehemence that threatened to ripthem from their stays. Courtenay held her glued to his left side, andthere was something reassuring in his vice-like grasp. She had a dimnotion that he need not squeeze her quite so earnestly, until shepassed a gangway which led to the port side, between the deck cabinsand the music-room. Then she changed her opinion; were it not for thestrong arm which held her she would have been blown into the sea.

  To reach the forward saloon they had to pass the boats near whichCourtenay had halted. The sailors saw them. During the first lull oneof the men said:

  "The senor captain is escorting one of the English senoritas from thesaloon."

  "Where is he taking her to?" asked another.

  "Who knows?"

  "It will be all the same wherever she is. If the ship goes, we go."

  "Who can tell? These English are stupid. They always try to savewomen first. Once, when I was on the--"

  A few words in Spanish reached them from Mr. Boyle, and they went onwith their work. But such muttered confidences are eloquent ofmischief when the pinch comes.

  At the forward end of the promenade deck, just beneath the bridge,Elsie received another reminder of the force of the wind, which wasrendered almost intolerable by the lashing of the spray.

  "I--can't--go on," she gasped. Courtenay felt, rather than heard, thatshe was speaking to him. Without further ado, he picked her up in hisarms, and deposited her, all flushed and breathless, in the shelter ofthe fore saloon hatch. If she were so anxious to see her friend thedoctor, he was determined she should not be disappointed.

  "No time for explanations," he said, while she tremblingly clutched ata rail which gave support down the companion-way. "Dr. Christobal isbelow. But--I fear you will find a shocking scene. Perhaps you hadbetter let me take you back."

  "No, no, not on my account. I think I am past feeling any sentiment.I would far rather do something, be of some use, however slight."

  A pungent smell of iodoform came to them up the hatchway. Joey, whohad followed bravely in their wake, and was now a few steps down thestairs, crept back, awed.

  "At least, let me ask Dr. Christobal if you may come. You will bequite safe here if you grip the rail. Even if a sea breaks over thehatch it cannot touch you. May I leave you? And do you mind holdingJoey?"

  Elsie detected a return to his earlier manner, and she was grateful tohim for it. She did not like him so well when he was stern and curt.

  "Yes," she said. "That is only reasonable; but p
lease tell him I shallnot be in the way, I know that there are wounded men to be attended,and dead men down there, too. I shall not scream or faint, believe me."

  "I am sure of that. Not one woman in a thousand could have played andsung to cheer others, as you did after the accident happened."

  It might have been the reaction from her exciting passage along thedeck, but Elsie experienced a sudden warm glow in her face. Somehow,it was delightful to hear those words from such a man in the hour ofhis supremest trial. For she realized what it meant to him, eventhough his life were saved, if the _Kansas_ became a wreck.

  She stooped, ostensibly to grasp the dog's collar.

  "Before you leave me," she said, "let me tell you how sorry I am foryou."

  He ran down the stairs, and entered the small saloon, which had beenhastily converted into a hospital. Perhaps it would be betterdescribed as a mortuary, for it held more dead than living.Christobal, aided by two sailors, was wrapping lint round a fireman'sseared arm. Happily, there was an abundance of cotton sheetsavailable, and the men tore them into strips. But the comparativelysmall supply of cotton wool carried in the ship's stores, and in thedoctor's private medicine chest had long since given out.

  "Miss Maxwell is here. She asked me to bring her to you in case shemight be able to render you some assistance," explained Courtenay.

  Christobal drew himself upright, with the slowness of an elderly manwhose joints are stiffening.

  "Miss Maxwell here?" he repeated, obviously surprised, if notdispleased. He waved a hand towards the men laid on mattresses on thedeck. Most were quite motionless; others writhed in agony. "Shecannot come--it is impossible."

  "It is her wish."

  "Quite impossible. Where is she?"

  "Standing in the companion."

  Courtenay saw that the girl could do no good now in that chamber ofdeath; the mere memory of it would be an abiding horror. He wantedChristobal himself to send her away, but the doctor had taken off hiscoat and bared his arms. His appearance was grimly business-like.

  "Will you tell her how much I am obliged to her for her kind thought.But you see--it cannot be permitted. Please say that I hope to joinher in the saloon in a quarter of an hour. My work is nearly ended. Iam sure you will make her understand that this is not a place for awoman."

  Again he swept the row of silent bodies with a comprehensive hand. Yetthe trivial thought intruded itself on the sailor that this elegant oldSpaniard delegated the task of explanation to him solely because he didnot wish to appear before Miss Maxwell in a somewhat disheveled state.He dismissed the notion at once.

  "How many?" he asked, glancing at the quiet forms which bore nobandages.

  "Eleven, now. By the way, just one word. What chance have we?"Christobal put the concluding sentence in French.

  Courtenay answered in the same language: "A very poor one. But I shallcome to the saloon and warn you. That will be only fair, don't youthink?"

  "Most certainly. Well--I may as well finish here." And the doctorsigned to his helpers to lift the next sufferer on to the table.

  Courtenay returned to the stairway. At the top stood Elsie, lookingeagerly for his reappearance. A sense of unutterable anguish shook himfor a second as he saw the sweet face, instinct with life and beauty,gazing down at him. How monstrous it was to think of such a fair womanbeing battered out of recognition against the rocks. He bit his lipsavagely, and it is to be feared the words he swallowed were not thoseof supplication. But his eyes were calm and his voice well undercontrol when he said:

  "Dr. Christobal is captain below there, Miss Maxwell, and he absolutelyvetoes your presence. He was exceedingly distressed at being compelledto send you such a message. However, he will soon explain matters toyou in person, as he is coming aft almost at once."

  Elsie was disappointed. She dreaded the return to the saloon, with itsqueerly assorted company. When she quitted them, they were in a stateof indescribable distress. Gray and the Englishman were helping thechief steward to adjust life-belts; but Isobel was in a frenzy ofdespair, her maid had fainted, de Poincilit and the Spaniards weremuttering alternate appeals to the saints and oaths of utterabandonment, and Mrs. Somerville was almost unconscious, while herhusband knelt by her side and wrung his hands in abject misery.Anything was better than to go back to that woful assembly, yet shechoked down a protest and said quietly:

  "I am ready. I am afraid I have been a bother to you, CaptainCourtenay."

  "Say, rather, you have given me hope. I think Heaven has work for youto do in the world. Let me go out first. Never mind Joey. He canstruggle along behind. Steady now. Head down and lean well againstthe wind."

  Elsie found, to her amazement, that there was less sense of danger infacing the wind than in being driven along before it. Moreover, shehad greater confidence during this second transit over the exposedportion of the deck. She felt Courtenay dragging her on irresistiblyuntil they gained the lee of the smoking-room. He let her rest there,beneath the ladder leading to the bridge. Then a strange revulsion offeeling came to him. He experienced an overwhelming desire not to beparted from her; he had a sickening fear that he might never see heragain; so he shouted, very close to her cheek:

  "Would you like to sit in my cabin a little while, if I bring MissBaring?"

  She thought that would be splendid. Courtenay, if any one, wouldsucceed in calming Isobel. In order to make herself heard she, inturn, had to put her lips quite near to Courtenay's face.

  "Yes," she cried, "I shall be only too pleased. But be patient withher; she is very frightened."

  There is no accounting for the workings of a man's mind. Courtenay, atno time a lady's man, most certainly had other matters to attend tojust then. Yet here he was thinking only of a woman's comfort. Hisdismal forebodings were banished by a rush of absurd delight at thethought that he would have an opportunity of speaking to heroccasionally. What a brave girl she was! What a wife for a sailor!In truth, these were mad notions that jostled in his brain when hislife and her's were not worth an hour's purchase. He drew her to thefoot of the ladder.

  "Run ahead, Joey!" he cried. The dog, a weird little figure leaningforward at a ridiculous angle against the tearing wind, obeyedinstantly. "Now, you," he said to Elsie, "but wait until I pass you atthe top."

  Though her skirts were troublesome, she managed the ascent. Then shewas taken off her feet again, and hardly knew where she was until shefound herself in the haven of Courtenay's cabin. Joey was glad to bethere, too. He shook himself noisily in his heavy coat.

  "You won't mind if I fasten the door on you?" and the captain so farforgot his anxiety as to smile.

  "No, indeed," and she smiled in response.

  "Very well. I shall bring Miss Baring in about five minutes. Youwon't stir till we come?"

  "What? Face that gale without you?" She almost laughed at the idea.He bolted the door, and he ran into the chart-house to tap thebarometer. It moved appreciably. It was rising! Ah, if only the windmoderated, he could save the _Kansas_ yet! He glanced at the compass.Still the same course. Not a fraction of a point gained to the north.That was bad. The ship was already within the danger zone. PrayHeaven for a falling wind, or even a change to the southward! Still,it was in an altogether more cheerful mood that he regained thepromenade deck and made his way towards the saloon.

  He was in the very act of entering the doorway when a shudder ranthrough the ship, and she lifted slightly. Clinging to a rail, hewaited, rigid as a statue. A second time the great steel hull shook,but much more violently. Then the _Kansas_ ran her nose into a shoal,swung round broadside to the sea, lifted again, struck heavily, andlisted to port.

  Courtenay was on the starboard side. He heard a yell of dismay fromthe men attending to the boats. Screams came from the saloon. The sealeaped triumphantly over the rails and nearly smothered him with itsdense spray. So this was the end? It had come all too soon. And whata place for the ship to be cast away!
Twenty miles from the nearestland, in the midst of a sea where no boat could live. God help themall!