The Old Man was pleased to get the steelwork off his hands so reasonably. Senhor Aguilla was pleased because he had the steelwork on his hands. That was the difference.
The Portuguese knew that the longer the consignment remained unclaimed the longer he would continue to draw a fairly substantial sum for wharfage and storage; and, although he promised to forward a letter to the Kilba Protectorate agent at Pangawani by the next weekly steamer, he meant to take steps to prevent, for as long as he possibly could, the information concerning the steelwork reaching the proper quarter.
Having, as he thought, satisfactorily settled with Senhor Aguilla Captain Bullock sent for his Wireless5 Officer.
"That means a ticking off, I expect," thought Peter, when Mahmed delivered the message. "The Old Man's rattled6 about his motor-launch."
Mostyn was only partly right in his surmise7. Captain Bullock was annoyed, which was natural enough. No boat-owner likes to have his craft damaged, especially when he is not on board. He has a sort of feeling that the accident, whatever it might be, would not have occurred had he been present. It was an awkward mishap8. Until the West Barbican returned to Durban, or some other large port, it would be hopeless to expect to obtain a new propeller9.
But the skipper, in spite of his bluntness, was a just man. He dealt with cases impartially10, and no one having been censured11 by him had good reason to doubt his judgment12.
Peter went to the skipper's cabin and reported the circumstances of the accident. The Old Man listened attentively13 until the Wireless Officer had finished his narrative14; then he pointed15 to a chart of Bulonga Harbour that was lying on the desk.
"Show me where the stranding16 occurred, Mr. Mostyn. What, there? On the port-hand side of the channel?"
"Yes, sir."
Captain Bullock had no cause to doubt Peter's word, but he made up his mind to question the two lascars who were in the boat, and also to see if Miss Baird could throw any light upon the matter.
"H'm. I suppose the river has changed its bed," he remarked. "African rivers have a nasty habit of doing that. It was unfortunate that you struck a snag; otherwise it wouldn't have mattered very much. All right, carry on."
Abdullah Bux and his compatriot could give no definite information. Miss Baird, for the present, was not available. The strident tones of Mrs. Shallop indicated pretty clearly that the lady was bullying17 the girl for her prolonged and involuntary absence.
At sunrise next morning the West Barbican, drawing considerably18 less water than she had done eighteen hours previously19, recrossed the bar. The Portuguese pilot was dropped, and a course steered20 to pass through the broad Mozambique Channel. Without exception all on board were glad to get away from the malodorous harbour of Bulonga.
On the afternoon of the seventh day after leaving Durban the weather "came on dirty". A heavy wind from the east'ard raised a nasty sea, which would have been angry but for the torrential downpour of rain that had the effect of beating down the crested21 waves.
As darkness set in the sky was almost one continuous blaze of vivid sheet lightning. The rain was still heavy but the wind piped down, blowing softly from the nor'-east.
"We haven't seen the last of this yet," declared Preston. "The glass is a bit jumpy. It'll blow like billy-ho before morning. How about your aerial, Sparks? Aren't you going to disconnect it?"
The two officers, clad in oilskins and precious little else, were keeping the first watch. There was nothing doing in the wireless-cabin. Atmospherics were present, but, apart from these disturbances22, no sound had been audible in the telephones during the best part of Peter's watch. Insufferably hot, he had put on an oilskin and had gone out for a breather.
"No need," he replied. "At least not until we get forked lightning."
"I'm not sorry we've got shot of that steelwork," remarked the Acting23 Chief after a pause. "It's awkward stuff to carry. But the trouble of it is that removing it has altered our deviation24. The compass cannot possibly be the same with that enormous amount of metal taken out of the ship. I suggested to the Old Man that we ought to have swung the old hooker before we left Bulonga and adjusted compasses. But he was in a hurry to get under way, and, apart from that, the harbour was so shallow that we couldn't get a clear swing. She's not far out on this bearing. I took a sight at the Southern Cross for that. Talking of compasses: did you hear that yarn26 about the Flinder's bar?"
"About the candidate for Mate's certificate who told the examiner that: 'There ain't no pub o' that name in Gravesend'?" asked Peter.
"No, but that's not so dusty," replied Preston. "My yarn concerns an old skipper in the Penguin27 Line. He was——"
But Mostyn was not to hear the anecdote28.
A violent concussion29, as if the ship had struck a rock, almost threw the two men off their feet. A muffled30 report followed.
"Mined, by Jove!" exclaimed Preston, in the brief lull31 that succeeded the detonation32.
Then pandemonium33 was let loose. The lascars, yelling and shouting, poured on deck, followed by a mob of native firemen. Capable enough in ordinary circumstances, the Indians lacked the stolidity34 and grim courage of British crews when disaster, sudden and unexpected, stared them in the face.
Captain Bullock was quickly on the bridge. He could do little or nothing to allay35 the panic, for the native petty officers were as frantic36 as the rest. To add to the difficulties of the situation, every light on board went out. Vast clouds of smoke and steam were issuing through the engine-room fiddleys. The propeller was slowing down. The engineer on watch had, on his own initiative, cut off steam and opened the high-pressure gauges37.
The Old Man shouted through the speaking-tube to the engine-room. There was no response.
Just then, in the glare of the lightning, he caught sight of Anstey, who, awakened38 by the explosion, had hurried to the bridge in his pyjamas39 and uniform cap.
"Nip below, Mr. Anstey, and see the extent of the damage," he ordered.
Anstey turned to obey. At the head of the bridge-ladder he encountered Crawford, the engineer of the watch.
"Nice sort of night to be in the ditch, laddie," exclaimed Crawford, as he elbowed his way past the Third Officer. "How far is to land, anyway?"
Crawford was on his way to report to the bridge. He had been flung violently on the bed-plates when the explosion occurred. Upon regaining40 his feet he found the engine-room in darkness save for the feeble glimmer41 of an oil lamp. Water was pouring in like a sluice42 through a rent in the after bulkhead that separated the engine-room from No. 3 hold. The firemen, panic-stricken, were bolting on deck. Neither by words nor action could Crawford stem the human tide of affrighted Asiatics.
Quietly he made his way to the platform and awaited orders from the bridge. The telegraph remained silent, the indicator43 on the dial still pointing to "Full Ahead".
By this time the water in the stokeholds was damping the fires, and Crawford deemed it prudent44 to shut off steam and open the escape valves in order to avert45 an explosion of the boilers46.
Knee deep in the oily water that slushed to and fro as the ship rolled, the engineer of the watch groped his way through clouds of steam until his self-appointed task was done. Then, after shouting in case anyone else had remained below, he effected his retreat and at once made for the bridge to report to the Old Man.
"She's going, Mr. Preston," declared Captain Bullock.
"She is, sir," agreed the Acting Chief. Experience had taught him the now unmistakable symptoms of a foundering47 ship.
"Call away the boats," continued the Old Man "If you've trouble with that mob use your revolver, Preston. Don't hesitate. Remember we've women on board. Use your discretion48 as to what boat you stow 'em in."
The Acting Chief hurried off, pausing outside the wireless-room to give Mostyn the last known position of the ship, which information was a necessary adjunct to the SOS call.
Peter had not been idle. The moment the seriousness of the situation became apparent he was back at his post in the wireless-cabin.
The shutting off of steam had automatically stopped the dynamo. In any case, the explosion had severed49 the "leads". The main set was out of action. Mostyn had to fall back upon the emergency gear.
For quite ten minutes he contrived50 to call up, but no reassuring51 reply came through in reply to the urgent appeal for aid. There were ships within range of the emergency set, that Peter knew. He had spoken them earlier in the evening.
"Either atmospherics or else they've another Partridge and Plover52 on board," he thought grimly. "Wonder where my birds are?"
The two Watchers ought to have been on the bridge by this time. In case of distress53 it was their duty to "fall in" outside the wireless-cabin and await instructions. Neither had done so.
The floor of the cabin had quite an acute list by this time. It was only by propping54 his legs against the lee bulkhead that Mostyn could keep seated. He realized perfectly55 well that the ship was sinking rapidly, but it is part of an unwritten code of honour that a wireless officer "stands by" until he is ordered away by his skipper or swept from his post by the sea itself.
Even as he waited, still sending out the unacknowledged SOS, he thought of Olive Baird, wondering how she was faring in the horrors of the night. If he only knew—but perhaps for his peace of mind it was as well that he did not.
Above the turmoil56 without came the report of two pistol shots in quick succession. There was no mistaking the sharp cracks. They differed completely from the detonations57 of the distress rockets that at intervals58 were fired from the bridge, on the chance that a vessel59 in the vicinity might proceed to the aid of the foundering ship.
The pistol shots reminded Peter of something that he might otherwise have overlooked. Without removing the telephones from his ears he groped and found his automatic and a box of cartridges60.
"No knowing when it might come in useful," he soliloquized, as he thrust the weapon into his hip25 pocket. "While I'm about it I might as well get dressed."
With considerable difficulty, owing to the now terrific list of the ship, he contrived to throw off his oilskin and don his white patrol suit over his pyjamas. Then, putting on his oilskin once more, he waited.
He had not much longer to wait.
"Any luck?" inquired the Old Man, who was gripping the doorway61 of the wireless-cabin with both hands in order to prevent himself slipping bodily to lee'ard.
"No, sir," replied Mostyn.
"Then chuck it," continued the skipper. "Look nippy. She's nearly gone. Where's your life-belt?"
A slight recovery on the part of the stricken West Barbican enabled Peter and the skipper to gain the weather bridge rail, the former securing a lifebelt from the chest by the side of the chartroom.
It was a weird62 and terrible sight that met Mostyn's eyes as he clung to the rail. The vivid flashes of lightning threw the scene into strong relief as the bluish glare illumined the night.
Not only was the ship listing to port. She was well down by the stern, her poop being practically submerged. From the lee side of the boat-deck a row of empty davits overhung the black water, the lower blocks of the disengaged falls flogging the ship's side like a series of blows with a sledge-hammer.
A cable's length away was one of the boats with only half a dozen people in her. Another more laden63 was a little distance away, the rowers laying on their oars64. A third, deep in the water, was laboriously65 putting away from the ship. A fourth, waterlogged, with her bow and the top of the transom showing above the surface, was drifting at some distance astern of the ship, while a fifth was floating bottom upwards66 with five or six lascars struggling to clamber upon the upturned keel.
"We'll have to shift for ourselves, Mostyn," said the Old Man calmly. "The best of luck!"
The people in the sparely manned boat, noting the skipper and the Wireless Officer on the bridge, began to back towards the foundering ship.
"Avast there!" bawled67 Captain Bullock. "Stand off. Keep clear of the suction. She's going!"
With a shudder68 like an animal in mortal pain the staunch old ship made her final plunge69. Amidst the rending70 of wood, as the enormous pressure of confined air burst the decks asunder71, and the crash of the funnel72 as the guys carried away, she slid stern foremost beneath the waves.
Then a violent rush of water swept Peter off the shelving planking of the bridge. He was conscious of being flung heavily against some solid object, turned round and round like a slowly spinning top, and being dragged down, down, down.
Vainly he tried to keep his breath. The pressure on his lungs became intolerable. He was barely conscious of struggling madly in the crushing embrace of the black water.
Then everything became a blank.
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1
scantily
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| adv.缺乏地；不充足地；吝啬地；狭窄地 | |
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Portuguese
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| n.葡萄牙人；葡萄牙语 | |
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ashore
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| adv.在(向)岸上，上岸 | |
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consignment
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| n.寄售；发货；委托；交运货物 | |
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wireless
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| adj.无线的；n.无线电 | |
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rattled
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| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
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7
surmise
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| v./n.猜想，推测 | |
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8
mishap
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| n.不幸的事，不幸；灾祸 | |
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9
propeller
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| n.螺旋桨，推进器 | |
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impartially
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| adv.公平地，无私地 | |
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11
censured
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| v.指责，非难，谴责( censure的过去式 ) | |
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12
judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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13
attentively
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| adv.聚精会神地；周到地；谛；凝神 | |
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14
narrative
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| n.叙述，故事；adj.叙事的，故事体的 | |
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15
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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16
stranding
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| n.（船只）搁浅v.使滞留，使搁浅( strand的现在分词 ) | |
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17
bullying
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| v.恐吓，威逼( bully的现在分词 )；豪；跋扈 | |
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18
considerably
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| adv.极大地；相当大地；在很大程度上 | |
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19
previously
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| adv.以前，先前（地） | |
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20
steered
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| v.驾驶( steer的过去式和过去分词 )；操纵；控制；引导 | |
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21
crested
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| adj.有顶饰的，有纹章的，有冠毛的v.到达山顶（或浪峰）( crest的过去式和过去分词 )；到达洪峰，达到顶点 | |
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22
disturbances
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| n.骚乱( disturbance的名词复数 )；打扰；困扰；障碍 | |
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23
acting
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| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
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24
deviation
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| n.背离，偏离；偏差，偏向；离题 | |
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25
hip
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| n.臀部，髋；屋脊 | |
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26
yarn
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| n.纱，纱线，纺线；奇闻漫谈，旅行轶事 | |
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27
penguin
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| n.企鹅 | |
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28
anecdote
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| n.轶事，趣闻，短故事 | |
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29
concussion
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| n.脑震荡；震动 | |
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30
muffled
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| adj.（声音）被隔的；听不太清的；（衣服）裹严的；蒙住的v.压抑，捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 )；用厚厚的衣帽包着（自己） | |
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31
lull
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| v.使安静，使入睡，缓和，哄骗；n.暂停，间歇 | |
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32
detonation
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| n.爆炸；巨响 | |
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33
pandemonium
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| n.喧嚣，大混乱 | |
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34
stolidity
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| n.迟钝，感觉麻木 | |
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35
allay
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| v.消除，减轻(恐惧、怀疑等) | |
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36
frantic
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| adj.狂乱的，错乱的，激昂的 | |
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37
gauges
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| n.规格( gauge的名词复数 )；厚度；宽度；标准尺寸v.（用仪器）测量( gauge的第三人称单数 )；估计；计量；划分 | |
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38
awakened
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| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
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39
pyjamas
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| n.（宽大的）睡衣裤 | |
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40
regaining
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| 复得( regain的现在分词 )； 赢回； 重回； 复至某地 | |
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41
glimmer
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| v.发出闪烁的微光；n.微光，微弱的闪光 | |
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42
sluice
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| n.水闸 | |
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43
indicator
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| n.指标；指示物，指示者；指示器 | |
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44
prudent
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| adj.谨慎的，有远见的，精打细算的 | |
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45
avert
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| v.防止，避免；转移(目光、注意力等) | |
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46
boilers
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| 锅炉，烧水器，水壶( boiler的名词复数 ) | |
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47
foundering
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| v.创始人( founder的现在分词 ) | |
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48
discretion
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| n.谨慎；随意处理 | |
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49
severed
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| v.切断，断绝( sever的过去式和过去分词 )；断，裂 | |
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50
contrived
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| adj.不自然的，做作的；虚构的 | |
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51
reassuring
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| a.使人消除恐惧和疑虑的，使人放心的 | |
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52
plover
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| n.珩，珩科鸟，千鸟 | |
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53
distress
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| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
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54
propping
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| 支撑 | |
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55
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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56
turmoil
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| n.骚乱，混乱，动乱 | |
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57
detonations
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| n.爆炸 （声）( detonation的名词复数 ) | |
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58
intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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59
vessel
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| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
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60
cartridges
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| 子弹( cartridge的名词复数 )； （打印机的）墨盒； 录音带盒； （唱机的）唱头 | |
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61
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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62
weird
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| adj.古怪的，离奇的；怪诞的，神秘而可怕的 | |
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63
laden
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| adj.装满了的；充满了的；负了重担的；苦恼的 | |
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64
oars
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| n.桨，橹( oar的名词复数 )；划手v.划（行）( oar的第三人称单数 ) | |
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65
laboriously
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| adv.艰苦地；费力地；辛勤地；（文体等）佶屈聱牙地 | |
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66
upwards
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| adv.向上，在更高处...以上 | |
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67
bawled
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| v.大叫，大喊( bawl的过去式和过去分词 )；放声大哭；大声叫出；叫卖（货物） | |
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68
shudder
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| v.战粟，震动，剧烈地摇晃；n.战粟，抖动 | |
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69
plunge
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| v.跳入，(使)投入，(使)陷入；猛冲 | |
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70
rending
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| v.撕碎( rend的现在分词 )；分裂；（因愤怒、痛苦等而）揪扯（衣服或头发等）；（声音等）刺破 | |
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71
asunder
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| adj.分离的，化为碎片 | |
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72
funnel
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| n.漏斗；烟囱；v.汇集 | |
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