A RACE FOR LIFE.

Lyttelton Times, Volume XCVII, Issue 11188, 9 February 1897, Page 2

A RACE FOR LIFE.

(Macmillan’s Magazine.) Two men stood tipon the sloping deck of a steamer lying stranded among the mud banks of a lagoon in Dahomey; the one was Captain Brown of the powerful screw-tug Corona, and the other James Cranton, representative of a wrecking syndicate which had purchased the vessel on the chance of getting her afloat. There was a fiery crimson gleam along the western horizon, against which the leathery foliage of the mangroves stood out black and clear as though carved in ebony; while the yellow water and bubbling slime beneath flashed back a lurid glow upon the rusty plates' of the steamer and the haggard faces of the men. “ The story of this Dutchman is a tragic one,” observed the captain, wiping the perspiration from his forehead. “ She broke .two plates on a reef; then they beached her in here, and half the hands died of fever —easy to understand that. She must have been a bad bargain for the syndicate.” “Yes,” was the answer;,"this pile of old iron and rusty machinery has cost us four thousand pounds altogether. All we have got in return is the few hundred pounds’ worth of odds and ends on board the tug, and we’ve buried two men. The steamer will never float again; in two years she’ll he buried in a mangrove forest; I’ve seen it before in Africa. However, we’ve all done our best, and now we’ll get out of this ghastly place before we die of fever. I’m sick now, and you don’t seem very bright.” So they slid down a line into a boat which lay alongside, and with a brief, "Pull, lads,” dropped w;earily into the stem. The crew bent to their oars, and as the blades dipped foul exhalations rose from thie yeasty water across which the lights of the tug twinkled- faintly through the gathering mist. It was, as Cranton had said, a ghastly place. The dingy foliage of the mangroves walled the lagoon in on every side. In places the watery forest rose, a maze of white stems and interlacing branches, from many feet of slime and froth; while in others the arched roots crept like the tentacles of a huge octopus ■ far out across hanks' of evil-smelling mud, each pale branch overhead sending down a fresh shoot to; feed on the corruption below. Over all brooded a dense atmosphere, heavy with the odours of putrefaction, which bring sickness and death to the European who breathes them. When they reached the tug darkness was ■ closing down, and it was just possible to make out three or fonr scantily attired figures crawling feebly about the lumbered deck among piles of hawsers, chains, and miscellaneous salvage. “How are the two seamen now ? ” asked the captain, as he climbed over the low rail; and a hoarse voice . answered.: “ Sinking fast. I’m afraid, sir; no chance for a sick man here.” “ Knock off now and heave the boat up. Tell them to start the fires; we go out tomorrow’s tide; ” and the captain disappeared below.

For a time Cranton leaned over the rail, gazing into the gathering darkness, and, wondering how long it would take him to recover the health and money lost in this unfortunate venture. Forest and lagoon seemed to swarm with life. From somewhere beyond the mangrove, fringe the howl of a hunting leopard rang out through the stillness ; water and mud heaved and bubbled with the movement of countless scaly creatures ; while at intervals the harsh croak of a wading stork echoed across the misty surface, or a swimming alligator ploughed a farrow across the steamer’s bows. All these sounds Cranton knew and loathed. He had heard them before on the Amazon and the Niger, and knew that they had rung the deathknell of many a strong man. But there was another sound which promised life and health, and his flushed face brightened as a monotonous, vibrating note drifted up the night breeze; it was the song of the long Atlantic swell sweeping across the thundering bar. With a last glance seawards, Cranton crawled into his stifling cabin, swallowed a bitter draught of whiskey and quinine, and flung himself down to sleep. Early next morning ho was awakened by the rattling winch and the clank of chain, and going on deck he saw the sickly crew getting the anchor over the hows.

Presently the captain strode to the end of the bridge and said: “ The sur/ will be easy to-day; there’s a light air off shore, or deep as she is we’d never have got out.” Then the telegraph tinkled, the propeller whirled up the foam astern, and with the muddy water boiling into white wreaths beneath her hows, the Corona steamed down the lagoon. A seaman leaned over the rail, waving his hat, as they passed a spit of yellow sand. “ Good-bye, Tom; good-bye, Jim. Give the poor fellows a call, sir,” he said. The Captain smiled, then he raised his cap, and grasped the lanyard. Three times the deep boom of the whistle rang out across forest and water, and thrice the red ensign fluttered aloft, a glowing streak of colour against the morning blue, while rough weather-beaten men stood barehoadedin the rising sun. Then a wheeling cloud of bats and screaming parrots settled down again among the mangroves, and the forest closed round a lonely wooden cross.

“ Thank God, we’re off, and there are no more left behind. We’re not out of the wood yet though,” observed the grimy engineer, as he looked out through the gratings. Presently a dense volume of dingy smoke streamed away from the Corona’s funnel, and the boat troubled throughout to the vibration of her panting engines, for the roaring bar lay close ahead veiled in a white smother of foam. Out she went, swinging a streaming forefoot high into the air, or plunging to the bitts in a white-crested roller, wallowing and diving with flooded decks, until at last the surf was passed and she rose and fell smoothly on the glassy undulations of the Atlantic.

“Now for Sierra Leone and home,” said the captain, dashing the spray from his face, while a feeble attempt at a cheer went up, and this time the ensign rose to the mast-head. Then the Corona was put on a sonth-west course, and shore her way at a good ten knots an hour through the long blue swell, the flashing water roaring from beneath her bows and streaming away astern in streaky lines of white and green in the wake of the throbbing propeller, while sickly men crawled about the deck, drinking in with delight the - pure seabreeze. Presently the captain descended from the bridge and . Cranton addressed him: “ Better have a look below now; the worst of the fever generally begins when yon leave the malaria swamps and breathe the sea air.”

So the two crept down into the stifling forecastle., clinging tight to the iron-runged ladder at each wild roll. At first .it was impossible to make out anything in the gloom,, and the men stood with bent knees, balancing themselves against the heave of the vessel, and listening to the thunder of the water outside the vibrating plates each time the sharp bows cleft apart a brimming swell. When his eye became accustomed to the darkness, Cranton moved towards a wooden shelf, and bending over a heap of dirty blankets, said, “ Well, Johnson, how are you now? Hold up your head, and drink this.” A faint light streamed in through a;dir ty port as th e steamer swnn g her head out of the sea, falling upon the hollow cheeks and soaking hair of a man, who stretched out a claw-like hand for the draught, and gasped: “About the same, sir; awful pain in all my bones, and something like hot iron round my skull; but the fireman there’s raving mad, and the nigger hasn’t spoken for hours.” Then a lip of green water washed above the glass, obscuring the light, and out of the shadow rose a terrified shout. The captain shuddered as tho tug lifted her bows again, and he saw the wreck of what had once been a strong man, holding a trembling hand before his eyes to shut out some imaginary horror. “We must get them on deck while it’s fine,” said Cranton. “ Eig an awning and hammocks for them. I’m afraid there’ll be more down soon, and all our drugs are done.” “I hope not,” said the captain. "With the loss of the two poor fellows who died in the lagoon, and three helpless here, we’d be very short-handed if we got bad weather. It’s lucky we shipped the three Krooboys, but I’d give six mouths’ pay to be safe in the Trades.” As Cranton advised, so it was done ; and the fever-stricken sufferers swung to and fro beneath an awning as tho tug rolled along across the sun-lit sea, a lonely wedge of dark hull ringed about with creaming foam, in the centre of a great azure circle.

All that day, and for several days following, there was not a breath of air to ruffle the glassy surface of the swell which ran steep and high from horizon to horizon, as it often does off the African coast for no appax-eht cause. Every morning the sun rose through a purple haze, gleaming coppery red, and as ho swung slowly west across the heavens poured down the pitiless heat of the tropics upon the plunging tug, until the pitch boiled put of the seams and the brass of the rail ielt scalding to the touch of

incautious fingers. The mate lay bmning with fever in a hammock beneath the shade of the bridge-deck, while every how and then a fireman, dripping with perspiration and gasping for breath, dragged himself through the stokehold gratings to collapse limply on deck. So the Corona drove along, westwards ever, stemming the strong Guinea current, amid the clatter of blocks, chafing of gear, and groaning of timber, while her captain and Cranton lay listlessly beside the wheel as the long hours dragged by, longing for a breath of cool air or the sight of a passing steamer from which they might obtain drugs or assistance.

One evening, after the most trying clay of all, the captain, who was gazing out into the sunset, said languidly; “ I see all kinds of bad weather there, and the barometer’s falling fast. It’s the tornado season, too, and we’re loaded to the last inch. However, anything would be a relief after this.” Sea and sky were one blaze of light, a hard brassy glare above, with long lines of fiery radiance trembling across the swell below, while whirling wreaths of thin vapour drifted before an nnfolt breeze across the red disc of the sinking sun. Cranton walked forward, balancing himself to the heave of the deck, and leaned against the rail. A blood-red light glowed beneath the awning cloths and flashed along the dripping hows, each time the tug swung aloft with the backwash streaming down her sides. By and bye two half naked Kvoomen crawled from beneath the grating in the bows, dragging a rigid black object after them towards the gangway. Cranton shuddered as he gazed, for presently’ the vessel rolled wildly downwards, and the corpse turned an awful face and sightless eyes towards him. Then the angle of the deck grew steeper, and it slid softly out through the gangway. There was a loud splash in what seemed to be a sea of fire, and the hideous thing lifted a black arm above the surface, humped twice along the bends, and afterwards sank swiftly through the glancing''wake astern, as though it had been drawn violently down. Cranton turned away with a cold feeling beneath his belt, and watched the darkness closing down. When the Last glow-had faded in the west, the foam wreaths under the bows and the black water along the bends blazed out into flashes of green and gold fire, while streaks of blue flame flickered along the horizon. This is common enough on the West Coast, but that night it was exceptionally brilliant, and the wreaths of vapour whirling across the low-hung crescent moon told of wind overhead. “ It looks as if we were in for a tornado ; I never saw the glass lower,” said the captain, as a few drops of warm rain splashed along the deck. Then a little puff or cool air .fanned their hot cheeks, and his voice rang out: “Harden down the hatch - wedges, strip awnings, batten the scuttles. Every man fit to work stand by.”

A few minutes later a roll of thunder echoed along the heavens, and the air was filled with the roar of falling water which hissed along the deck and gurgled inches deep through the scuppers. The telegraph tinkled twice stand ly, but the engineer, lyr g* gasping for breath in his narrow, bunk, had already received a sterner summons. He had heard the African thunder before, and know that, sick or well, he must be at his post that night;.so he dragged himself into the engine-room, where he leaned heavily against a column. "For ten minutes the deluge continued, and then the thick curtain of rain was split up and blown away, and with a scream the tornado burst upon them. The soa grew crisp and white like wool: sheets of spindrift burst over the vessel, while dazzling phospherescence blazed from every curling surge until the tug appeared to be steaming through living flame. For a time Cranton clung to a funnel-guy, half-choked and blinded with the mad rush of wind, though at intervals he could see the tall figure of the captain gripping the weather spokes of the jarring wheel, while a seaman thrust upon them to lee. Already the smooth swell was changing into steep foaming seas, and the Corona"dived through them, with the luminous water flying aft in sheets and the powdered drift driving over her like smoke. Presently, after the passing of a furious gust. Cranton caught the captain’s voice: “ Hold the wipsel till I get at the telegraph ; she’s drowning herself now.” Then as he peered into the yellow glow of the binnacle, and strained his wrists upon the plunging wheel, the faint clang of a gong rose from below and a slackening of vibration told that the engines were turning more slowly.

The horrible turmoil of wind and rain lasted half an hour, then it settled down into a steady blow, and the phosphorescence faded from the water. All night the Corona staggered along, half buried in the seas which grew higher and steeper, until near dawn a great black wall rolled in over the bows. There was a crash of splintering timber, and while tons of water poured out over the rail, the rest disappeared through the deck in a swirling eddy. “ Pore hatch gone—stand by with the tarpaulins, for your lives!” roared the captain, and dropping from the bridgedeck, Cranton staggered forward towards four dripping objects, knee-deep in water, struggling with the flapping tarpaulins. Twice the sheet was wrenched from their hands, and one seaman who loosed his hold in a frantic roll crawled back out of the scuppers with the blood streaming down his face. But the men knew that they were fighting for their lives as-well as for the safety of the deeply loaded vessel; and at last the painted canvas was drawn across the aperture and battened down, while coils of hawsers and gear were piled upon the unsmashed boards.

When Cranton reached the bridge again, the captain said: “1 wish you’d slip below and see if there’s much water in her, and how the mill is going.” Gripping the ladder hard, to avoid being hurled among the whirling machinery, Cranton found the engineer standing with an anxious face, ankle-deep in water which spouted through the chequers of the floor-plates; while, oil-can in hand, a grimy subordinate learned cautiously over the racing cranks. “ The water’s coming in faster than we can throw it out, I’m afraid ; she’s doing her best, listen,” he said, and above the grinding clatter of rod and shaft, Brantou recognised the sharp metallic clang of a gorged pump, and could see the iron suction-pipe throbbing and pulsing, as though alive, each time tho ram hurled a solid jet of water over the side. “If wo do no better the fires will be drowned before long; it’s gained an inch since you came,” the man went on; and Cranton shuddered as a roll sent the chilly fluid swishing round his ankles, while tho buzzing cranks threw np a miniature cascade.

When he regained the bridge, the mate staggered up, saying briefly ; “ Tho tarpaulin’s split again, the scuttle’s burst; and it’s more than a man’s life is worth to go forward. I’m afraid she’ll go down under us soon.” As if in answer, a white-crested roller rose np ahead, and next moment tho fore-deck disappeared into the sea. For a second or two the little vessel staggered and seemed to stop, then, as she slowly shook herself free and swung aloft, tho water rolled aft. There was a crash, of splintering glass, a cloud of steam rose through the broken skylights as it fell hissing on the hot cylinder-heals below, and the rash struck the bulkhead a thundering blow. The three men looked at one another with ashen faces, until the captain spoke. “It is nearly dawn now, and we must he close in to the Ivory Coast,” ho said. “ We’ll run in and chance finding a lagoon ; anyway, it is better to risk the surf on a beach than to founder in deepwater. Hard over, due north, helmsman.”

So for a while the three leaned over the bridge rails, gazing out through the driving spray, as the circle _ of tumbling waters grew wider and wider beneath the coming dawn. Then, with the suddenness of the tropics, the sun swung out from behind a bank of bard - edged clouds, and the dusky sea - plain changed in a moment to flashing green and snowy white, until ho disappeared again veiled in flying scud. A few miuutes later something like a cluster of feathers rose to view upon the far

horizon, and Cranton said hoarsely : “ That must bo some of the tall palms beyond Lahn. I’ve been on the Ivory Coast before.” *

Higher and higher grew the distant objects, until at last it appeared as if the trees sprang aloft from the midst of the sea. Then a shadowy background of low-lying forest rose to view, and one of the Kroohoys crawled aft, clinging for his life to the rail as a sea burst across the vessel, and shouting excitedly : “ I know him, sah, know him bad ; be Kahn Lagoon, sab.” “ Take your chance and let him run her in; the Krooboys know every inch of the coast,” said Cranton, and while the captain nodded his nead, the helmsman whirling round the spokes, swung the Corona’s bows towards the minis.

“ It’s our only chance ; go down and tell .Tim to hold out, and drive her all he can. It’s a race now to get in before we founder,” said the captain, and Cranton, dodging a sea, dived into the engine-room, and safely reached the submerged floor-plates. The engineer splashed about among the rising water, while f the drowned cranks hammered and gurgled amid a seething mass of foam.

“ She’s going all she’s worth ; come and see,” ho said, and together they waded into the stokehold. A roaring blast swept down the yawning ventilator shafts and rushed towards the trembling boiler front, where, .stripped to the waist, two haggard firemen, streaming with perspiration, balanced themselves against the rolling as they forced the twinkling fires. Every now and then, as the tug lurched forward, a gurgling wave surged hissing among the red ashes below the fire-bars, and the engineer shook Ins head. “ It’s tempting Providence now,” he muttered, “for the boiler’s an inch thick with scale and salt; she may go at any moment. Drive her, my lads !” and then he added in a whisper; “They’ve both got fever, and have been at it eight hours; flesh and blood can do no more.”

The most comforting tiling', Cranton thought, was tho ringing clang of the big pump and the hissing of tho injection, and he know that every throbbing cylinder and palpitating valve was doing its utmost in that wild race for life. ■When ho reached the bridge again, the Krooboy was pointing excitedly ahead, and shouting: “ Keep them tall palm open, sah, one lil’ hand, plenty too much surf, sab.” The coast-line now lay clear and bright in tho watery sunshine, a strip of yellow beach, alternately visible and hidden by clouds of spray as the mile-long ridges of water burst upon it; beyond was a fringe of feathery palms, and behind these again what appeared to be a waste of mamgroves. “1 can see no entrance, and if we go ashore the surf will smash every bone in our bodies. Steady helm !” said the captain. Cranton glanced aft with his heart in his mouth at the ocean-walls that chased them astern or burst with a roarover the counter, while the whole vessel trembled with the shaking of her racingengines as she swung high on the crest. Then a shout from the Krooboy made him turn his eyes, and dragging out his glasses he fancied he could see a smooth green riband of water winding through the chaos of foam ahead. The Corona stormed through it towards tho deadly sand, all hands clinging to the rail wherever they could find a lee, gazing in half breathless silence at the yeasty ■ confusion before them. At last the beach lay close at hand, and the air was filled with the roar of the surf, as every new and then a dark line of water rose up and blotted out forest and shore until it crumbled away into cascades of white upon the sand. “ ’Tarboard now, sah,” said the Krooboy, and the helmsman glanced at the captain with wonder in his face, for a starboard holm would cant them towards the worst of the surf. The captain clenched his teeth and nodded his head, and the steamer’s bows swung right inshore. Cranton felt his skin creep and his nerves tingle, and strove to choke down a wild desire to wrench the wheel out of the seaman’s hands, and turn the vessel’s bows anywhere but towards that white death ahead; but the negro clung to the binnacle, silent and rigid. Hire an ebony statue. Then he shouted, “ Port now, port one time,” and the watches held their breath as they saw a sharply marked strip of rolling green water open between the mad smother on ejther side. The captain threw himself over the wheel, and aided by the helmsman spun the spokes round for dear life, and the bows pointed straight towards the narrow way where was salvation. Then a harsh voice shouted “ Hold on all,” and a vast roller rose up astern as high as the Same-tipped funnel ring. Every eye was turned aft, for if that sea curled and broke too soon, all hands would be ground to pieces on the sand below. As they gazed, there was a roar and a rush, the Corona was caught up and swept madly forward on the foaming crest. Captain and helmsman clung to the spokes with a grip of steel, until the mass broke up and melted away, then, sinking through the whirling backwash, the tug steamed safely into the smooth water across the bar.

Ten minutes later the engines were stopped, and the captain gasped out, “Thank God!” as the anchors plunged into the lagoon, and the little vessel swung smoothly up and down on the swell which worked in across the bar. Now that the decks were no longer swept, the pumps could cope with the water, and in a few hours the holds were free. There is little more to tell. The wind dropped and the sea went down, as suddenly as it generally does on that coast, and the Corona lay for a week, leisurely repairing damages, in a fairly healthy, sand-girded lagoon. Then it chanced that a little top-heavy patrol gunboat came rolling by, and in answer to a signal sent in a boat. When they learned the state of affairs, her officers stripped themselves of whatever comforts they had for the benefit of the fever-stricken crew, the surgeon provided advice and a goodly store of drugs, and the Commander lent them black firemen and deckhands, to be landed at Sierra Leone. Then, after the crew had thanked the kindly officers, fervently, the tug steamed out across the rolling bar, coaled at Sierra Leone, made a good passage up the Trades, and in duo time reached home in safety, the sick recovering on the way. James Cranton is now engaged in an attempt to float a stranded vessel off the Brasilian coast, while the Corona is employed in Channel towage; hut none of those concerned in it will ever forget the unfortunate attempt to salve the stranded Dutchman.