Sail Ho! Part 96

"How are you getting on?" shouted Mr Frewen. "That's right."

I could not see him for the steam; but his voice came from the other side of the deck, and I must have altered the direction of the jet a little, for a fresh series of explosions arose to prove how much more serious the hidden fire was than we could judge it to be from what was visible.

Crick, crack, sputter, and then report after report, as loud as those made by a revolver, while each steam-shot was followed by a ball of white vapour which came rushing up as from the mouth of a gun.

"Hurrah!" came from by the pump again, and Mr Preddle came slowly along to pa.s.s me and get forward.

"I suppose I can get by you," he said.

"No, no; don't try it," I cried excitedly. "I must not stir, and there is so little room. Go back and round with Mr Frewen."

"No, no; I daren't."

"The fire isn't there," I said, as the screaming and hissing were louder than ever.

"I'm not so much afraid of the fire as I am of the water," cried Mr Preddle. "You want to squirt me again."

I couldn't say "I don't," for his words tickled and yet annoyed me, so that I felt that I really did want to deluge him with the water from head to foot.

"Will you promise me not to squirt if I go that way?" he shouted.

"Honour--bright," I yelled. "Couldn't see you."

That was a fact, for from cut of the hold, and spreading all over the ship, the dense white fumes hid everything; and though Mr Preddle was now only about a yard away, I could not see anything but a dim, blurred patch; while facing me a dull, luminous disk all blurred and hidden from time to time showed where the sun was dealing his slanting beams.

"Well, I'm going to trust you," said Mr Preddle, "and I beg you will not do it again."

"All right," I shouted; and the next minute I felt that I was alone to carry on the war against the enemy below.

"How stupid of him to think that!" I said aloud, with a laugh.

"I don't see anything stupid. It was stupid of you to play tricks at such a time," said Mr Preddle.

"Why I thought you were gone," I shouted.

"No; I waited to see whether you were going to keep your word," he replied; and then I heard no more till Mr Brymer shouted--

"Want any help, Dale?"

"No, sir."

"Steam too much for you?"

"No, sir; all right. I'll call if I want help."

The pump clanked steadily on, and without any more than a half-stoppage as they made a change for resting, and I kept on searching out the hottest places by following up the loudest hissing and sputtering of the water as it changed into steam, and rose and floated upward till I thought that if the mutineers were able to see it, they would conclude that the ship was burning right away to the water's edge, for the steam, as it floated up in that huge volume, would have all the appearance of smoke.

Then I started, for from close behind me came Mr Brymer's voice--

"How are you getting on, my lad?"

"I don't know; I can't see."

"No, but I can. Capitally," he cried. "There must be a tremendous body of fire down below; far more than I thought."

"But is there any fear of our pumping too much down and sinking the ship after all?"

Mr Brymer burst into a cheery laugh.

"I don't think we should sink her by our pumping, Dale. We should get tired first, I'm afraid. Why, my good lad, I don't know whether my calculation is right, but I should say that half the water you send down there must float up again in steam."

"Think so, sir?" I shouted, altering the direction of the jet a little, and feeling startled at the consequences, for the shrieking and hissing which followed became deafening.

"I'm sure," shouted my companion. "Quite below in my calculation. You can keep on, can't you?"

"Oh yes," I said.

"That's right. I couldn't do it better. Go on; every drop's telling in extinguishing the fire, or wetting other parts of the cargo so that they will not burn. But what a fiery furnace it is! I had no idea it was so bad."

"Do you think--" I began.

"Yes--what?"

"That it has burned through to the ship's bottom?"

"No; and it will not now," he shouted. "There is so much heat there that an immense body of steam must be rising, and that will help to extinguish the fire."

"Then I am doing some good, sir?"

"Good? Yes; you are winning the fight. I must get back now, and relieve Mr Preddle. I left him and the doctor pumping."

I did not hear him go, but when I spoke again there was no answer, and I devoted all my energy to my task, though it had become so monotonous that my thoughts began to stray, and I found myself wondering how matters were going in the cabin--whether they were very much alarmed by the noise of the steam, or whether they felt as confident as the mate did about our ultimate mastery of the fire, and how Walters and Mr Denning were.

Just then a gruff, familiar voice came out of the steam behind me.

"Mr Brymer's orders, sir, as you're to hand me the nozzle, and go aft and get a refresher. Says you must be choked enough."

"Did he order me to go, Bob?" I said.

"That's it, sir. Give's hold."

I handed the nozzle.

"Talk about a fog," he cried; "this is a wunner. I say, Mr Dale."

"Yes."

"Sounds like something good being cooked, don't it? I s'pose there'll be a bit o' something to eat soon. I'm growing streaky, and could eat anything, from biscuit up to bull-beef. Well, what's the matter?" he cried, as a fiercer shrieking came along with clouds of vapour. "That go in the wrong place? Well, will that do?"