Part 39 (1/2)

The sudden portentous silence and the roar of blown-off steam that followed it roused every man on board the s.h.i.+p, and Robertson crawled sluggishly out of his berth. He had reasons for knowing exactly what had happened, and he showed no sign of haste, but there was a furtive look in his eyes, and he sat on the ledge of the bunk s.h.i.+vering a little while he thrust his hand beneath the mattress again. He felt that he needed bracing, for he had once spent several anxious hours in a half-swamped lifeboat after the steamer to which it belonged had gone ash.o.r.e, and he was aware that somebody is usually held accountable for mishaps at sea. There was not very much left in the whiskey-bottle when he thrust it out of sight again, and shambled out of his room. The _Adelaide_ was rolling viciously, and when he reached the engine-room he came near falling down the slippery ladder. Indeed, most men would have gone down it headlong if they had braced themselves as he had done, but habitual caution made him feel for a good hold, and he descended safely to where his subordinates were cl.u.s.tered beneath the high-pressure cylinder. Their faces showed tense and anxious in the flickering light of the lamps which swung wildly as the steamer rolled, and the young third engineer hastily related what had brought about the stoppage.

”Rig the lifting tackles while she cools,” said Robertson. ”Get the stud-nuts loose. We'll have the cover off soon as we can.”

Then he turned and saw, as he had partly expected, a quartermaster standing just inside the door above him, and with a word or two to his second he crawled back up the ladder and went with the man to the room beneath the bridge. The young skipper who stood there with a furrowed face regarded him grimly.

”How long are you going to be before you start her again?” he asked.

Robertson blinked at him with furtive, half-open eyes. ”I don't quite know--it's a heavy job. We have to heave the piston up,” he said.

”Besides that, she has knocked things loose below.”

The skipper appeared to have some difficulty in restraining himself.

”Unless you can get steam on her in the next few hours she'll be breaking up by morning. The reefs to lee of us are not the kind of ones I'd like to put a steamer ash.o.r.e on, either.”

Then he took a bottle from a drawer with a little grimace of disgust, for he remembered that skippers are comparatively plentiful, and the man he could scarcely keep his hands off was for some reason apparently a favorite with his employer.

”Oh, take a drink, and hump yourself,” he said. ”I guess that's the only thing to put a move on you.”

Robertson hesitated for a moment, for he realized that he had still a part to play. Then it occurred to him that his companion might draw his own conclusions as to his reasons for any unusual abstemiousness, and he helped himself liberally.

”Well,” he said when he had drained his gla.s.s, ”I'll be getting back again. Do what I can--but it's a heavy job.”

He shuffled out, but his potations were commencing to have their effect, and when he reached the top platform in the engine-room he felt carefully for the rail that sloped as a guide to the ladder. It was as usual greasy and Robertson's grip not particularly sure, while the _Adelaide_ rolled wickedly to lee just then. As the result of it, her engineer went down the ladder much as a sack of coal would have done, and fell in a limp heap on the floor-plates with a red gash on his head.

The second stooped down and shook him before he turned to the other men.

”Heave him on to the tool locker, one or two of you,” he said. ”We can't pack him up to his room with this job in front of us. See if you can fix that cut for him, Varney, and then go up and tell the skipper.”

A man went up the ladder, and the skipper, who sent an urgent message back with him, turned to the little cl.u.s.ter of miners who were waiting about his room.

”Something wrong with the engines?” asked one.

”There is,” said the skipper, who knew his men and would not have admitted to the ordinary run of pa.s.sengers what he did to them. ”It will probably be some hours before they start again, and the sh.o.r.e's not very far away to lee. If you feel inclined to lend a hand at getting sail on her I guess it would be advisable.”

The miners were willing, and set about it cheerfully, though it was blowing hard now and the long deck heaved and slanted under them. There is very seldom an unnecessary man on board a steamer, and the _Adelaide_'s mate was glad of a few extra strong arms just then. That they were drenched with bitter spray and occasionally flung against winch and bulwarks did not greatly trouble them. Things of that kind did not count after facing the wild turmoil of northern rivers and living through destroying hazes of blizzard-driven snow. So they got the canvas on her, forestaysail, gaff-headed foresail, mainstaysail, and a blackened three-cornered strip abaft the mainmast, and the skipper felt a trifle easier when he found that he could steer her. She crawled through the water at perhaps two knots an hour, dragging her idle screw, but she also drove to leeward nearer the deadly reefs.

CHAPTER XXIX

UNDER COMPULSION

It was in the gray of the morning when Jimmy saw her, a dim patch of hull and four strips of sail that heaved and dipped between the seas. He also saw the faint loom of land behind her, and turned to Lindstrom, who stood beside him, with a grim smile.

”I think we can make our own terms to-day,” he said. ”She wouldn't be there with those reefs to lee of her if her engines hadn't broken down.

Will you ask the bos'n to have a board ready and a brushful of white lead?”

Then he turned to the man in oilskins who held the steering wheel. ”Hard over. Run her right down on them.”

The _Shasta_'s bows came round, and the light was growing clearer when she lay with engines stopped as close to windward of the _Adelaide_ as Jimmy dared venture. The latter crawled ahead sluggishly, heaving her bows up streaming out of the long seas that fell away beneath a high wall of slanted iron hull until the blackened strips of sailcloth swung wildly back again. Then her tall side sank down until the line of rail was level with the brine. A couple of shapeless, oilskinned figures clung to her slanted bridge with the spray whirling about them, and ragged wisps of cloud drove fast across the low and dingy sky overhead.