The Moving Picture Boys and the Flood; Or, Perilous Days on the Mississippi

by Victor Appleton

  CHAPTER XVII

  THE COTTON BARGE

  For a moment there was the utmost confusion aboard the craft. The wordsof Blake, the sudden motion as the rope broke, the tossing and pitching,as the boat was borne on the crest of the flood, seemed to deprive themall of the ability to act.

  Blake himself had nearly been carried overboard, so suddenly did thecable part, but he managed to grasp a rail and so saved himself.

  "Can you see anything?" yelled Mr. Ringold, as he was struggling intohis raincoat.

  "Only when it lightens," answered Blake. "It's a fierce storm, allright."

  The others came out on deck, and, as flash succeeded flash, they viewedthe mad scene all about them.

  On raced the motor boat, a frail thing indeed in that wild waste ofwaters.

  "We've got to start the engine!" yelled Mr. Ringold, for one needed toyell to be heard above that storm. "It's the only way we can be safe,"the manager added. "Start the motor!"

  "And where will we steer?" Mr. Piper wanted to know.

  "Anywhere we can, to get in some sheltered place," suggested Blake. "Butit's doubtful if we can stem this wind and current."

  "We'll have to quarter it," spoke Mr. Ringold, when he had taken anobservation, by the aid of a lightning flash.

  Meanwhile Joe and Mr. Piper had started the motor, and, as the welcomethrob and hum were heard, Blake and the manager went to the wheel.

  "Better light up," the moving picture man said. "No telling what we mayrun into, or what might run into us. There are probably boats afloat,bad as the storm is."

  Save for a single light in the cabin, and a riding light outside, the_Clytie_ was in darkness when the cable parted. But now theincandescents were switched on. They were operated by a large storagebattery, charged by a dynamo, run by the motor flywheel.

  With a powerful searchlight at her bow, her stern light, and the red andgreen side lamps, as well as the cabin lights, aglow, the craft nowpresented a more cheerful aspect, and she was certainly safer. Thelights, too, helped to take away the really terrifying effect of thevivid lightning.

  The place at the wheel was partitioned off, and that little pilot house,as it were, was left in darkness, to enable Blake and Mr. Ringold to seeto steer.

  They could do little, however, save to try and cross the current in adiagonal direction, to make their way to some sheltered cove.

  "This certainly is the limit!" murmured Blake, as he stood at themanager's side. "I didn't think there was any more rain left in theclouds."

  "There seems to be plenty coming down," observed the theatrical man,grimly. They listened to it pelting on the cabin roof. It was a constantroar, and added to it was the thunder of the sky artillery, followingeach flash, and the never-ceasing hiss and hum of the rushing river.

  "We'll have to look out for debris as best we can," spoke Mr. Ringold."There are some big logs afloat, and if one hits us end on----"

  He did not finish, but Blake realized what he meant.

  "Look! That struck just in front of us!" cried the youth, as he and hiscompanion shrank back, instinctively, from a particularly vivid flash.

  His words were drowned in the shock that followed, and indeed it wasseen that the bolt had struck the water but a little way in advance ofthe boat. A smell, as of sulphur, filled the air, and there was asensation as though everyone aboard the craft had received a mildelectric shock.

  "That was close enough!" murmured Joe, as he come into the cabin, afterhaving seen to the oiling of the motor.

  "I should say so!" agreed Mr. Piper, who followed him.

  Try as Mr. Ringold did to send the craft out of the main current, heseemed unable to accomplish it. It was as though the boat were in thegrip of some powerful hand, that was shoving her forward.

  Several times, as they fairly flew onward, the propeller aiding thecurrent in making speed, those aboard felt the bumps and shocks as theystruck objects in the water. Fortunately the debris was moving atconsiderable speed also, and in the same direction as was the motorboat, or serious damage might have been done.

  "There goes another hit!" cried Blake, as he saw a second lightning boltdescend into the water. This one, though, was far enough off so that nounpleasant effects were felt by our friends. The bolt from the sky,however, hit and split wide open a big tree that was floating downstream.

  "If it strikes us," murmured Mr. Piper, "we'll----" And then he thoughtbetter of what he was evidently going to say, and did not finish hissentence.

  "It's of no use," said Mr. Ringold, after a while, "We can't make anyheadway across the river. We'll just have to go on and trust to luck."

  He and Blake kept a sharp lookout ahead, and managed to avoid, severaltimes, collisions with floating debris in the shape of logs, and partsof buildings.

  As they rounded a turn, which could be made out by the flashes oflightning, Blake uttered a cry.

  "What's that--just ahead?" he shouted.

  He pointed to a large black object, looming up on the right.

  At the same moment there came another flash, seemingly of greaterintensity than any that had preceded it. The flash appeared tocompletely envelope the big, dark object, and with one voice Blake andMr. Ringold cried:

  "A cotton barge!"

  "And struck by lightning, too!" added Blake, a second later, as, despitethe downpour of rain, flames burst from several places on the loadedboat.

  The lightning had indeed set fire to the cotton, which was floating downthe river. It had probably broken away from the place where it had beenmoored, or from the tug that was towing it. Rapidly the flames gainedheadway, and, as there came a sudden cessation to the rain, which mighthave extinguished them, the tongues of fire leaped higher and higher.

  "I hope we will be able to keep well away from her," murmured Mr.Ringold, and for a time it seemed as though they might, for the burningbarge was well in advance of our friends.

  But it was a vain hope. A little later the barge suddenly grounded onsome obstruction, and remained stationary, while the motor boat wasborne down directly on it.

  "Steer to one side!" yelled Blake.

  "I'm trying to!" echoed the manager, but it was easily seen that he wasnot going to be able to do this in time. A moment later the _Clytie_poked her bow against the barge, with great force.

  Fortunately, however, a bale of cotton, hanging partly overboard, tookthe brunt of the blow, so no damage was done.

  "Back water!" cried Joe. "We'll be on fire in another minute!"

  It certainly seemed so, for though they had struck the barge at a placewhere, for the time being, there were no flames, the fire was rapidlyenveloping the whole cargo.

  Mr. Ringold pulled the reversing lever, throwing in the gears, but thecraft remained with her bow still against the cotton barge. The force ofthe current back of the _Clytie_ was too much for her to overcome. Shewas gradually being swung around sideways to the barge.

  The flames were getting hotter. They roared and crackled, and vied withthe thunder and lightning in adding to the scene of terror.

  "Send her ahead!" suddenly cried Blake. "That's our only chance!"

  "What for?" demanded his chum.

  "We may be able to shove the barge off the bar, or away from the snag,or whatever is holding her. Then she'll drift away from us. It's ouronly chance!"

  "You're right!" cried Mr. Ringold.

  Once more he changed the lever, and now the propeller beat the muddywater to foam, as the bow of the motor boat pushed hard against the sideof the barge.

  And Blake's advice proved to be the best. For, hanging an instant on thebar that had caught her, the barge suddenly gave way, and now, almostcompletely wrapped in flames, she once more started on her journey downthe swirling torrent.

  Then Mr. Ringold was able, by a quick turn of the helm, and by speedingup the engine, to swing to one side, and away from the burning craft,which was left to go on to her own destruction.

  "Whew
! Hot work!" exclaimed Blake.

  "I should say so," agreed Joe.

  The first fury of the storm seemed now to have passed. The thunder wasless heavy, and the lightning not so vivid. The rain had started again,but it was a mere drizzle.

  For several miles more the _Clytie_ went on, at the mercy of thecurrent, and then, as the lightning flash revealed a little cove to oneside, Mr. Ringold determined to steer for it.

  To his delight he found that the boat answered her helm well, the riverbeing wider at this point, and the current less powerful. And then, alittle later, they were able to come into comparatively quiet waters,where, with the aid of the searchlight, they found a big tree, to whichthey tied, and with double cables.