The Iron Boys on the Ore Boats; or, Roughing It on the Great Lakes

CHAPTER VII

Chapter 72,355 wordsPublic domain

THE IRON BOYS ON DECK

THE lads began their work above decks on the following day. It was a welcome relief to be out in the open air, with the wind blowing over them, the soft odors of the inland seas mingling with the faint perfume of the land drifting out from the unseen shores.

The first work of the Iron Boys was to remove the hatches that the sun might penetrate the hold and dry out the ore, which had been put in very damp. Ore in that condition did not handle easily, taking up time and costing considerably more to handle than when dry. Steve pondered over this all during his first forenoon's work. Here was something that ought to be remedied. His fertile brain was at a loss to solve the problem. He talked the matter over with Jarvis after luncheon, that day, and asked his companion's opinion.

"That's easy," answered Bob promptly. "Put a stove in."

"Where?"

"In the ore pockets on the trestles."

"That would be fine," grinned Steve. "But you have given me an idea. I will think it over. There is a point that it will pay us both to think over very carefully. Have you seen anything of our friends from below decks this morning?"

"No; I guess they must be sleeping."

"Look out, Bob. We haven't heard the last from Smith. He is a vengeful fellow and he will try to get even with us. I hope he doesn't ship with us on the return trip."

"I'll punch his head for him if he gets funny with me."

"I don't like the man's looks at all. It is my opinion that he is a desperate character."

"Well, so are we, for that matter," replied Jarvis with a mirthless grin.

"I am beginning to think so myself, old chap. It seems almost impossible for us to keep out of trouble. I, for one, am going to stop it. Next time any rough argument is started I'm going to run."

Jarvis laughed uproariously.

"I think I see you doing it! Why, you wouldn't run if you saw a herd of elephants charging you. No, sir--not Steve Rush!"

At about four o'clock in the afternoon the boys were ordered to assist in replacing the hatches to make all snug for the night. The vessel was slipping down Lake Huron, now, at an eleven-knot gait. There was a gentle roll on the sea, but neither lad minded that. Neither would suffer further from seasickness, they felt sure.

The hatches having been made secure there was nothing more to be done for the rest of the afternoon. The lads were free to go where they pleased and do as they pleased. They repaired to their cabin, where they remained until supper time. They now ate with the ship's officers, the stokers and oilers having a mess-room by themselves. The officers' mess-room was a roomy apartment at the extreme stern of the ship, and the food served there was excellent. The boys did not remember ever to have had better.

Mr. Major, the first mate, occupied the lower end of the long table, while the captain sat at the head. There was little conversation. The principal business was eating, sailors having a habit of shoveling in their food as fast as possible when it is placed before them.

The result was that Steve and Bob, being accustomed to eat slowly and chew their food well, were not half through when the others rose from the table.

"Going to eat all night?" demanded the captain, with the suspicion of a smile on his face.

"Oh, no," laughed Rush. "Not quite so long as that, I hope."

"How about you?" questioned the master, nodding at Jarvis.

"Well," answered Bob reflectively, "as nearly as I can figure it I am about amidships between soup and pie. If I don't fall through the centre hatch before I reach the pie end I'll be on deck about seven o'clock."

The officers laughed heartily.

"Do we go on duty this evening, sir?" questioned Rush.

"Certainly," replied the captain. "You take your regular tricks just the same. You two will take the forward watch at nine o'clock."

They had never been on watch before, and did not know what their duties were to be. So, after finishing their supper, they hunted up Mr. Major and asked him to explain their duties to them. He told them that all they had to do would be to watch out for lights ahead and either side of the ship, ring the hours on the ship's bell just forward of the bridge, at the same time glancing back at their own ship's running lights to see if all were burning brightly. The mate told them how to report this, giving them some other suggestions at the same time.

"This is fine," glowed Bob. "We're going to walk the bridge at midnight, aren't we?"

"Rush will have the bridge watch," explained Mr. Major. "You will take the deck just forward of and under the bridge. It is not hard work in good weather, but it gets to be rather lonesome at times. I shall be on duty in the pilot-house during your trick. If you are in doubt at any time be sure to call out to me."

Both promised that they would. It was with keen anticipation that the lads made their way forward from their cabins a few minutes before nine o'clock.

"Second watch changed," called the watch who was on the point of retiring.

"Aye, aye," answered the officer in charge in the pilot-house. All was dark in there so the men could see ahead, the windows of the captain's cabin having the shades pulled tight so that not a single ray of light could shine out ahead to blind the eyes of the lookouts.

"All clear ahead. Steamer heading up the lake off the starboard bow."

"All right," answered Steve as he took his place at the rail of the bridge. "I guess she won't run into us."

"Watch for that steamer's red light off to starboard," warned a business-like voice from the blackness of the pilot-house.

"I will," replied Steve.

"Say, 'aye, aye, sir.'"

"Aye, aye, sir."

"That's right. We observe all the forms on board these ships just the same as they do on the high seas."

"What's all that talk about up there?" called Bob Jarvis, from his post in the bow on the deck below.

"You are to keep watch of that fellow off to starboard," answered Rush.

"Starboard? Let's see--that's the left side, isn't it?"

"No, the right."

"Oh, I guess that's right."

"Tell the watch below to 'tend to his business," warned the mate in the pilot-house.

"Forward watch, knock off talking," called Steve.

"Don't get funny up there or I'll come up and straighten you out."

"Bob," called Steve softly, "the officer will be down there in a moment if you don't stop your nonsense. This is business. Keep your eyes on the water and call out whenever you see a light. I----"

"Ship, ho!" sang out Jarvis suddenly, interrupting what Steve was saying.

"Lower watch reports a ship, sir," sang out Steve.

"Where away?" demanded the mate.

"Where away?" repeated Steve.

"Oh, 'bout a mile off the right-hand side," answered the lower watch nonchalantly.

"He means the vessel off to starboard, sir," Rush informed the officer in charge.

"Has that wooden-head just discovered the ore carrier over there?"

"I guess so, sir."

"Pshaw! You keep your eyes open."

"He will be all right after he gets settled down to it, sir," said Steve apologetically.

"We're likely to be sent to the bottom before that time, if we wait for him to keep us out of trouble."

The ship sailed on. Now and then Steve's keen eyes would sight a green or red or a white light, and under the instruction of the mate he quickly learned to determine the position of the boat from her lights, enabling him to say instantly which way the other ship was traveling. After a while the captain entered the pilot-house.

"Who's on the forward watch?" he demanded.

"Rush on the bridge, Jarvis in the forward peak."

"Keep a sharp lookout. They are new men."

"Aye, aye, sir. Rush is all right. He has eyes like an owl at night. Trust him for not letting anything----"

"Red light dead ahead," called Rush.

"What do you make of her?"

"Nothing more, sir."

"That's one of the Wyckoff coal fleet," announced the captain, leaning from the pilot-house window. "She's headed for Shoal Island."

"How in the name of all that's good does he know all that?" muttered the boy on the bridge. "I can't see a thing but the red light, and that means that her port beam is almost across our bow. I don't see anything else."

"I suppose you are wondering how I know that, eh?" chuckled the captain, nodding to the lad pacing the bridge just below him.

"Well, yes, sir; I was wondering," admitted Rush.

"Do you make out her white lights!"

"No, sir."

"That's where I have you. There is a bank of fog or mist settling over the lake. If you will raise your eyes a little to the right of the red light you will make out two faint blurs----"

"I see them, sir."

"Those are her masthead lights. I know the set of the masts of the Wyckoff boats, that's all. So will you, after you have been at sea long enough. It is all a matter of experience. I have been drilling up and down these lakes for the past thirty years. I ought to know a few things about them and the fellows who are navigating them. It's going to storm."

"Yes, sir," agreed the lad, but he did not see any signs of rain. The stars were bright overhead and the moon was shining brightly. "I see I have a few things to learn about the weather," he muttered.

A few minutes later Steve discovered that the moon and the stars had suddenly disappeared. The captain knew they would, for the wind had veered to the southeast and he had seen the fog bank settling down since the first moment he entered the pilot house. The rain started in shortly afterwards in a thin drizzle.

"Hey, up there, it's getting wet down here!" shouted Bob. "Hand me down an umbrella or something."

"Keep a sharp lookout, lads," warned the captain. "Remember we've got a load of coal across our bows."

"Aye, aye, sir," answered Steve. "I think I can see quite a way ahead of us."

"That is a mistake. You can't see a ship's length ahead. Keep your eyes open."

"I will, sir."

"Where is your raincoat?"

"I am afraid I have none. I never thought to bring one with me."

"Tell your friend Jarvis to go to my cabin and ask the steward for two coats."

Steve did so, and a few minutes later the lads were well protected from the storm, which was now upon them in full force. The rain was coming down in blinding sheets by this time, beating into the faces of the Iron Boys.

Suddenly Steve leaned over the edge of the bridge, shading his eyes with his hand. Something that he thought he had observed in Bob's position had attracted his attention. He gazed more keenly, then uttered a little gasp. Jarvis was standing with his head down, facing away from the storm toward the stern of the ship. He looked very comfortable and contented.

"Bob!"

Steve's tone was stern.

"Bob!"

"What do you want?"

"Turn around and be quick about it!" Steve was speaking too low for the officers in the pilot-house to hear. "Don't you know that the safety of the ship depends largely on our watchfulness at this minute, and----"

"Clang, clang, clang, clang, clang clang," interrupted the ship's clock in the pilot-house.

Steve grasped the cord attached to the clapper of the big bell in front of the bridge, giving it six steady jerks.

"Six bells, eleven o'clock. All lights are burning brightly, sir," Rush called in the singsong voice of the sailor.

"Aye, aye," answered the deep voice of the mate from the darkness of the pilot-house.

"Reduce speed to one-half," commanded the captain, in a low voice. He usually gave his commands calmly, no matter how great the stress or emergency. "Do you see anything of that coal carrier, Rush?"

"No, sir; she must be some distance away from us by this time."

"She ought to be, but she isn't."

"May I ask how you know that, sir?"

"I get her smoke."

"I don't make it out, sir."

"Neither do I, by sight, but I see it through my nose. I smell it."

"Well, doesn't that beat all!" muttered Rush.

He bent every energy toward piercing the black bank ahead. For the first time Steve Rush experienced a sense of uneasiness, and for the first time he realized what the perils of the sea meant. Before, it had seemed to him that, unless a ship were laboring in a great storm, there could be little danger. Once a minute the siren far back in the darkness, near the engine superstructure, would wail out a long, dismal blast which, a moment later, was answered by the ship out there somewhere ahead. The sound of the other boat's siren did not seem to Steve Rush to be getting any nearer, but to the experienced ears of Captain Simms quite the contrary was plain.

"Look steady, down there!" he warned in a sharp tone which told Rush there was something that he did not know about was likely to happen.

"Look sharp!" he repeated to Bob Jarvis.

"I'm looking. I'm----"

Steve Rush's voice cut in quick and sharp, though there was little trace of excitement in it.

"Sheer off! Ship dead ahead!"

"Hard a-port!" commanded the captain, at the same time sounding a long wailing blast on the siren.

A deafening crash followed almost upon the command.