CHAPTER XIX
JOE'S PLIGHT
From outside the cabin of the tug came a confused series ofsounds. First there was the swish and pelt of the rain, varied asthe wind blew the sheets of water across the deck. But, above itall, was a deep, ominous note--a grinding, crushing noise, as ofgiant rocks piling one on top of the other, smashing to powderbetween them the lighter stones.
"What will happen?" asked Mr. Alcando, as he watched Joe and Blakemaking ready. They seemed to work mechanically--slipping intorubber boots and rain coats, and, all the while, seeing that thecameras and films were in readiness. They had brought somewaterproof boxes to be used in case of rain--some they had foundof service during the flood on the Mississippi.
"No one knows what will happen," said Blake grimly. "But we'regoing to get some pictures before too much happens."
"Out there?" asked the Spaniard, with a motion of his hand towardthe side of the big hill through which the Canal had been cut.
"Out there--of course!" cried Joe. "We can't get moving picturesof the slide in here."
He did not intend to speak shortly, but it sounded so in thestress of his hurry.
"Then I'm coming!" said Mr. Alcando quietly. "If I'm to do thissort of work in the jungle, along our railroad, I'll need to havemy nerve stiffened."
"This will stiffen it all right," returned Blake, sternly, as alouder sound from without told of a larger mass of the earthsliding into the waters of the Canal, whence the drift had beenexcavated with so much labor.
It was a bad slide--the worst in the history of theundertaking--and the limit of it was not reached when Joe andBlake, with their cameras and spare boxes of film, went out ondeck.
The brown-red earth, the great rocks and the little stones, massesof gravel, shale, schist, cobbles, fine sand--all in oneintermingled mass was slipping, sliding, rolling, tumbling,falling and fairly leaping down the side of Gold Hill.
"Come on!" cried Blake to Joe.
"I'm with you," was the reply.
"And I, also," said Mr. Alcando with set teeth.
Fortunately for them the tug was tied to a temporary dock on theside of the hill where the slide had started, so they did not haveto take a boat across, but could at once start for the scene ofthe disaster.
"We may not be here when you come back!" called Captain Wiltseyafter the boys.
"Why not?" asked Joe.
"I may have to go above or below. I don't want to take any chancesof being caught by a blockade."
"All right. We'll find you wherever you are," said Blake.
As yet the mass of slipping and sliding earth was falling into thewaters of the Canal some distance from the moored tug. But therewas no telling when the slide might take in a larger area, andextend both east and west.
Up a rude trail ran Blake and Joe, making their way toward wherethe movement of earth was most pronounced. The light was not verygood on account of the rain, but they slipped into the cameras themost sensitive film, to insure good pictures even when lightconditions were most unsatisfactory.
The moving picture boys paused for only a glance behind them. Theyhad heard the emergency orders being given. Soon they would beflashed along the whole length of the Canal, bringing to the scenethe scows, the dredges, the centrifugal pumps--the men and themachinery that would tear out the earth that had no right to bewhere it had slid.
Then, seeing that the work of remedying the accident was underway, almost as soon as the accident had occurred, Blake and Joe,followed by Mr. Alcando, hurried on through the rain, up to theirankles in red mud, for the rain was heavy. It was this same rainthat had so loosened the earth that the slide was caused.
"Here's a good place!" cried Blake, as he came to a littleeminence that gave a good view of the slipping, sliding earth andstones.
"I'll go on a little farther," said Joe. "We'll get views from twodifferent places."
"What can I do?" asked the Spaniard, anxious not only to help hisfriends, but to learn as much as he could of how moving picturesare taken under adverse circumstances.
"You stay with Blake," suggested Joe. "I've got the little cameraand I can handle that, and my extra films, alone and with ease.Stay with Blake."
It was well the Spaniard did.
With a rush and roar, a grinding, crashing sound a large mass ofearth, greater in extent than any that had preceded, slipped fromthe side of the hill.
"Oh, what a picture this will make!" cried Blake,enthusiastically.
He had his camera in place, and was grinding away at the crank,Mr. Alcando standing ready to assist when necessary.
"Take her a while," suggested Blake, who was "winded" from hisrun, and carrying the heavy apparatus.
The big portion of the slide seemed to have subsided, at leastmomentarily. Blake gave a look toward where Joe had gone. At thatmoment, with a roar like a blast of dynamite a whole section ofthe hill seemed to slip away and then, with a grinding crash theslanting earth on which Joe stood, and where he had planted thetripod of his camera, went out from under him.
Joe and his camera disappeared from sight.