Part 30 (1/2)

”Homer,” said Eric to his friend the following afternoon, as the _Bear_ lay outside the barge _St. James_ at the wharf at St. Paul, ”what do you make of that cloud to the sou'west'ard?”

”Snow,” was the terse reply.

”I don't,” the boy objected. ”It's a mighty queer-looking sort of cloud.

It doesn't look a bit like anything I've ever seen before.”

”There's lots of things you've never seen,” was his friend's reply.

”That's one of them,” the boy answered gravely, not at all in his friend's jovial vein. ”But I don't think it's snow. There's something awfully queer about it. Gives me the s.h.i.+vers, somehow! It looks too solid for snow!”

Minutes pa.s.sed. Little by little a curious feeling of unrest began to spread over the s.h.i.+p. The sailors stopped in their work to glance up at the strange and menacing cloud. Its edges were black with an orange fringing, and as clean cut as though it were some gigantic plate being moved across the sky. In the distance there was a low rumble, as of thunder.

The portent rose slowly. Almost an hour pa.s.sed before the cloud was half-way up the zenith. Shortly before two bells in the first dog watch, Eric, pa.s.sing his hand along the rail, realized that it was covered with a fine coat of dust. This was not black, like coal dust, but a light gray.

”Say, Homer,” he said, ”that's ashes.”

”Forest fire somewhere,” said the other.

”No,” said Eric, ”it looks like pumice-stone.”

”Volcanic, I'll bet,” said the other, with a quickened interest. He scooped up a pinch of the fine dust and looked at it. ”It's volcanic, sure enough. There must be a big eruption somewhere!”

”I wish it were right handy near by,” said Eric; ”I've never seen an eruption.”

”You talk as if they were as frequent as moving pictures,” said the other. ”But there's trouble somewhere, you can lay to that. And it's not far off, either! See, there's another cloud coming up from the nor'ard!”

Steadily, and with a slowness that only increased its threatening aspect, the cloud to the northward joined the vast overhanging canopy that had been seen earlier in the day. By half-past six in the evening it was black as the densest night, the murk only being lighted by the constant flashes of lightning. The air was highly electrified and the wireless was made silent. During the evening the island was shaken by many light earthquake shocks and several people from St. Paul came to take refuge on the _Bear_. At midnight a fine dust was falling steadily, but by six bells of the middle watch it had lessened and when the sun rose the next morning, he could be seen as a dull red ball. The air was still full of dust and ash, but the eruption was believed to be over.

Early in the morning scores of people came to the s.h.i.+p for drinking-water, many of the streams and wells in the village having been choked. About five inches of ashes had fallen. The captain of the _Bear_ started the evaporators going, to provide drinking-water for the folk ash.o.r.e.

Shortly before noon the ashes began to fall again, even more heavily than before. When Eric came up from below after lunch, the air was so full of a heavy gritty ash that it was impossible to see the length of the s.h.i.+p. The _Bear_ was evidently in a place of danger and there was no means of determining what was happening or what would happen.

”Do you suppose we'll strike out to sea?” queried Eric of his friend.

”We ought to, for safety, but I don't see how we can leave the place unprotected.”

”We'd never do that,” replied the other. ”Things don't work out that way in the Coast Guard. You'll see. We'll stick here till the last gun's fired.”

It was a relief to Eric when at three o'clock that afternoon he was ordered to accompany a sh.o.r.e party. All hands had been on duty since seven that morning, and when Eric went ash.o.r.e the sailors were keeping regular s.h.i.+fts with shovels, clearing the decks, while four streams of water from the fire mains were playing incessantly in an effort to clear the s.h.i.+p of its horrible burden.

More than once, when the rain of volcanic debris grew especially heavy, the men fell behind, work as hard as they might. Herein lay real danger, for if the deck-load of ashes grew too heavy the _Bear_ might turn turtle. Then all hope of rescue would be lost.

The captain of the _Bear_ summoned a meeting of the princ.i.p.al citizens.

He sent to the two saloons in the village and finding that they were crowded, requested the proprietors to close. This they did without demur, realizing that at a time of such peculiar danger, when no one knew what had happened, what was happening, or where the next outbreak might come, it was necessary for everybody to be on the alert.

Through the afternoon the darkness increased into a horrid gloom far worse than the darkest night. Men collided with each other working about the decks, for the feeble glow of electric lights and lanterns was deadened by the yellowish compost so that they could not be seen five feet away. When nightfall came, no one knew, it had been scarcely less dark at three o'clock in the afternoon than at midnight. All night long men worked steadily in s.h.i.+fts, clearing away the ash. Ash.o.r.e the conditions were equally terrifying and all night long the bell of the Russian Church boomed out in the blackness. There were few of its followers who did not grope their way to the building at some time during that awful night.

Sunrise and the coming of daylight pa.s.sed unseen and unnoticed. Only chronometers and watches served to tell the change from night to day.