CHAPTER IX
IN THE HEART OF THE TYPHOON
Over the quiet ocean so calm that, except for an occasional swellingfoam-tipped wave it seemed like a sea of glass, the noon-day sun pouredits golden light. It was a perfect day at sea, and so thought thepassengers on board the swift ocean greyhound that plowed its waythrough the quiet waters of the Pacific.
A stately ship was she, a palace upon the waves. No deprivation here ofany comfort or luxury that could be found on land. Her shining brasswork gleamed in the sunshine like molten gold. The delicate colors inher paneling blended with the tints of the soft rugs on her polishedfloors. On deck, in the saloons, and staterooms, all was luxury. Gaygroups of passengers, richly dressed, paraded her decks or lay at easein their steamer chairs, or upon the softly-upholstered couches anddivans of her gorgeous saloons. Japanese servants glided noiselessly toand fro, ministering to the slightest wish of these favored children offortune. Everywhere were signs of wealth and ease and careless gaiety.Sounds of music and merry laughter floated over the quiet waters. Pain,fear, suffering, disaster, danger, death,--what had such words as theseto do with this merry company? If anyone had mentioned the possibilityof peril, of calamity, the idea would have been scouted. Why, this greatship was as safe as any building on land. Was it not fitted withwater-tight compartments? Even such an unlikely thing as a collisioncould bring no fatal catastrophe.
That this feeling of absolute security is felt by all can be veryplainly seen. Go to the perfectly appointed smoking-room and scan thefaces of the gentlemen, quietly smoking and reading, or talking infriendly fashion together, or enjoying a game of cards. Every face isserene.
Pass on into the music-room. A waltz is being played by the piano andviolin, and gay couples of young people are enjoying the dance to theutmost. Groups of interested older people look on with smiles. Noanxiety here. Nothing but happy, care-free faces.
But come into the captain's private cabin where he is standing,listening earnestly to one of his officers. Perfect appointments herealso, but evidently they do not appeal to these men at this moment. Nosmiles of gaiety here. The captain's face pales as he listens to hisofficer's words.
"The barometer has fallen several inches in the last hour and a half,"was the announcement. Not enough in this, one may think, to causeanxiety. But the captain knew and realized, as few on board besidehimself could, that the ship was nearing the coast of Japan, thelatitude most frequently visited by the dreaded typhoon, and also thatthis mid-summer season was the most dangerous time of the year.
Among the first signs of danger from one of these terrible visitors isan unusually rapid fall of the barometer. No wonder that, with theresponsibility of the lives and safety of hundreds of people restingupon him, his face should blanch with apprehension.
Verifying his officer's statement by a quick look at the barometer, hewent hastily on deck. Here his quick eye noticed the change in weatherconditions; not very great as yet, only a slight cloudiness which dimmedthe brightness of the sun. Not enough to trouble the passengers who, ifthey noticed it at all, were only conscious of an added sense of comfortin the softening of the almost too brilliant sunshine, but enough todeepen the pallor of the captain's face and quicken his pulse with therealization of a great, impending danger. Even as he looked the heavensbegan still more to darken, the clouds increased in size and blacknessand began to move wildly across the sky. The wind freshened and thequiet sea broke into billows which grew larger and more angry-lookingeach passing moment.
Taking his stand on the bridge, the captain summoned all his officers tohim and gave quick, decisive orders. With the rapidity of lightning hisorders are executed and soon everything is made snug. Every possiblemeasure is taken to safeguard the ship.
But, now it was evident to all that more than an ordinary stormthreatened them. In an almost incredibly short time the whole aspect ofsky and sea had changed. The surface of the ocean was lashed intomountainous waves which raced before the terrible wind. The heavensdarkened until an almost midnight blackness settled down over theappalled voyagers.
Vanished are the sounds of music and laughter. Gone the happy, care-freelook from the faces. Filled with terror, they awaited they knew notwhat. The wind increased, and now the heavens opened and the rain camein such a torrential downpour that it seemed almost as if the great,staunch ship would be beaten beneath the waves.
With a feeling of agonized despair, the captain realized that that whichhe so feared had come upon the vessel, and that she was in the grasp ofthe dreaded typhoon. The darkness thickened, the wind increased, andsuddenly they felt themselves caught in a great wave which tossed theship about like a child's toy. Back and forth twisted the great ship,completely at the mercy of this remorseless wind and sea.
Thunderous crashing was heard as the upper works of the ship were tornaway by the gigantic waves that washed over her. The passengers werepanic-stricken and rushed wildly about, seeking those who were dear tothem, their cries and groans drowned in the roaring of tumultuous seas.The captain, calm and self-controlled in the midst of this terriblescene, went about among them, restraining, soothing, speaking words ofencouragement and hope, but in his heart he had no hope. A firemanrushed up with the report that the engine-rooms were flooded and thefires out; and then, with blows that made the great ship tremble, partof timbers were torn away by the great seas which made no more ofiron girders or sheets of riveted steel than if they were strips ofcardboard. The sea rushed in from more than one jagged opening in herside.
Now at last, the captain realized that his splendid ship was doomed. Thegreat vessel was slowly sinking. One hour, a little more, a little less,would see the end. And, to make their doom more certain, he could notlaunch a single life-boat for they had all been shattered and washedaway by the sea. There is but one hope left, and quickly ascertainingthat the wireless is still O. K., the captain orders the call for help.For who can tell at what moment the apparatus might be disabled?Eagerly the operator bends above his key and forth across the angrywaves, defying the forces of wind and wave and torrent that have soughtto cut them off from all succor, goes that pitiful cry for help.
With every nerve strained to the utmost tension he awaits the responsethat will assure him that his call is heard and that help is coming;but, before his ear can catch the welcome signal a flash, a whirring andsnapping, tells him that the apparatus has gone dead! They must wait forthe weary danger-fraught moments to bring them the knowledge. Thank Godthe cry for help was sent in time. There is a chance of its reachingsome ship near enough to rescue them; but near indeed that ship must beor she will bring help too late.
* * * * *
Twenty miles away the good ship _Fearless_ plows through mountainousbillows that, breaking, drench her decks with spray.
In his wireless room Bert is sitting with his receiver at his ear on thealert for any message. His three chums are with him as usual, Tom andRalph sitting in a favorite attitude with arms across the back of achair in front of them, while Dick walked excitedly up and down theroom. Quite a difficult task he found that for the ship was rollingconsiderably. As he walked he talked.
"Well, fellows," he was saying, "I have always wanted to see a genuinestorm at sea, and to-day I think I've seen it."
"It seems to me that you've seen a great deal more storm to-day than youlonged for or ever care to see again," Tom commented.
"You're just right there," Dick agreed. "It would be all right if youcould watch the storm without sharing the danger. There was one timethis afternoon when I thought it was certainly all over with us."
"It sure did look that way, and I guess Captain Manning thought so,too," Tom said.
"It was a lucky thing for the _Fearless_," Ralph broke in, "that thestorm didn't last long. If it had kept on much longer we shouldn't behere talking about it now."
"But wasn't Captain Manning fine through it all?" said Bert.
They were all feeling the effects of one of the most thrilli
ngexperiences of their lives.
The _Fearless_, fortunate in not being in the direct course of thetyphoon, had felt its force sufficiently to place her in great dangerand to make every man Jack of her crew do his duty in a desperate effortto keep his ship from going to the bottom. That they had come throughsafely with no greater damage than the washing away of her life-boatswas largely due to Captain Manning's strength and courage, and the youngfellows were filled with admiration. Each in his heart had resolved toprove himself as brave if a time of trial should come to him.
With this thought in mind they had sat very quietly for a few momentsafter Bert's last remark, but now they all thrilled with a newexcitement as Bert suddenly straightened up from his lounging position,and, with kindling eye and every faculty alert, grasped the key of hisinstrument. The others knew that he had caught a wireless message andfeared from the sudden flushing and paling of his face that it was acall for help.
In the twinkling of an eye all was again excitement on board the_Fearless_. The ship's course was altered and, with full steam pressureon her engines, she fairly flew to the rescue. Twenty miles, and atrifle over fifty minutes to reach that sinking ship. Could she make it?Hearts felt and lips asked the question as the _Fearless_ raced over thewater, and all eyes were strained in a vain effort to catch a sight ofthe ship to whose succor they were going long before there was even theremotest possibility of sighting her. Their own peril was so recentlypassed that all on board the _Fearless_ throbbed with pity for those somuch more unfortunate than themselves, and prayed heaven that they mightbe in time.
* * * * *
But if eyes were strained on the _Fearless_, how much more earnestly dideveryone of those on the ill-fated steamer look for some sign or soundfrom a rescuing ship? The typhoon had passed very quickly, but whathavoc it had wrought in so short a time! The floating palace that hadseemed so secure was now reduced to a dismantled, twisted hulk,water-logged and slowly carrying her unfortunate passengers todestruction.
A whole hour had passed since the message had been sent forth to seekand find help, but no help had come. Who shall attempt to record thehistory of that hour? At first hope, faint it is true but still hope,then increasing anxiety as the doomed vessel settled deeper and deeperin the water, then growing despair as all feared, what the captain andcrew knew, that in a very little while would come the end. Even if avessel should appear now, the captain feared that only a few could besaved, as it must be a work of time to transfer those hundreds ofpassengers from one ship to another. As all the life-boats had beensmashed and carried away, precious minutes must be lost awaiting a boatfrom the rescuing ship. But in order that all might be in readiness, thewomen and children were placed close to the rail to be taken first, andthe other passengers told off in squads for each succeeding embarkationso that there need be no confusion at the last moment.
To the poor unfortunates those long minutes of waiting, fraught withpossibilities of life or death, had seemed like hours. A great quiethad fallen over them, the paralyzing stupor of despair. Nearly all hadceased to hope or look for rescue, but sat with bowed heads, awaitingthe fate which could not now be long delayed.
Suddenly, through this silent despairing company ran an electric thrill.Life pulsed in their veins, and hope that they had thought dead, spranganew in their hearts. A sailor casting one despairing glance about him,had seen the smokestacks of a steamer gleaming red through the faintmist that still hung over the water. Springing to his feet, he beganshouting, "Sail ho! a sail! a sail!" For a moment all was wildestconfusion, and it was with greatest difficulty that the captain, whohad prepared for just this outbreak, could control these frantic peopleand restore discipline among them. By this time, the lookout on the_Fearless_ had made out the wreck and a heartening toot-toot from hersteam whistle gladdened the waiting hundreds. But would she reach themin time? Already the captain had noticed the trembling of the ship thatso surely foretells the coming plunge into the depths of the ocean. Itis a miracle that Fate had so long stayed her hand. To be lost now, withlife and safety almost within their grasp, would be doubly terrible.
Breathlessly they wait until the steamer moving at the very limit of herspeed, comes nearer and nearer, till at last she slows and drifts only afew hundred feet away.
To the surprise of the _Fearless_, no attempt was made on board thesinking ship to lower her boats; and equal was the consternation onboard the sinking steamer, when they saw that no boats were lowered fromthe other ship.
"Her boats are gone, too," shouted Bert as the situation became plainto all. No sooner had the words left his lips than the _Fearless'_carpenters were at work, and in an incredibly short space of time, arough life buoy was knocked together. They worked with a will for theyknew that every second might mean a life. The buoy consisted of a rudeplatform with uprights at its four corners, to the top of each of whicha pulley was securely fastened. Around the uprights ropes were woundmaking a rude but safe conveyance.
While this was doing, a ball with string attached was shot from a smallcannon on board the _Fearless_. Whistling through the air, it landedjust within the wrecked ship's rail. Eager hands prevent it fromslipping and there is no lack of helpers to draw in the line to thedeck. With deft but trembling hands the crew work to secure the cablewhich follows the line.
At last the life line is adjusted and secured between the two ships, thelife buoy comes speeding over the water to the doomed vessel, and as itrushed back toward the waiting _Fearless_, with its load of women andchildren, a great cheer goes up. A moment, and the forlorn creaturesare lifted by tender hands to the _Fearless_, and the buoy swings backfor a second load. The work of rescue has begun.
Back and forth swings the buoy until the women and children are allsafe, and still the miracle holds; the wreck still floats. In less timethan would have seemed possible, all the sufferers from the wreck havereached the rescuing ship except the captain and his first mate, and thelife buoy is swung back for the last time. Hurry now, willing hands!Already the bow of the sinking steamer is buried beneath the waves.Another moment or two, and it will be too late. Only a few feet more.Speed, speed, life buoy! She reaches the rail. Eager hands draw the twolast voyagers over and cut the now useless life line. As the men step tothe deck of the _Fearless_ the wreck, with one more convulsive shiver,plunges to her last resting place, but, thank God, with not one soulleft upon her. All are saved, and Bert, overcome, bows his head upon hisarms, and again thanks heaven for the wireless. Once more it has wroughta miracle and plucked a host of precious lives from the maw of theravenous sea.