by Oliver Optic
CHAPTER XXV.
SAILING ACROSS THE FIELDS.
I was appalled at the terrible sight. It was an open country, and therewere few trees to be seen, except around the houses at the plantations.It looked like an inland sea. I saw the two men struggling in the waterat some distance from the levee. They were evidently trying to touchbottom with their feet, but the water was over their heads.
"How deep is the water on that flat, Mr. Pilot?" I asked, not a littleexcited at the idea of witnessing such a loss of life as he hadpredicted.
"I should say it was from eight to ten feet deep all the way to thoseplantations," he replied.
"Why don't one of the steamers waiting here go over to the assistanceof those poor people?" I inquired.
"They can't get through, and they would be swamped if they should tryit. The breach is not more than thirty feet wide, and these boats wouldstick till they were torn to pieces. They are so low in the water thatit would put their fires out when they went through and fill theirholds."
I looked about the decks of both our steamers, and found that all thepassengers were on board of the Islander. I told Ben Bowman, who was onduty in the engine-room, to put on all the steam she could safelycarry. He assured me he had enough for anything.
"Look out, Captain Blastblow, if you please, for I am going to castoff," I called to the Islander. "Keep the ladies in a safe place. Allthe Sylvanias on board!"
I went into the pilot-house, and rang to back the steamer. I kept hermoving until we were in the middle of the river. I had carefullyexamined the crevasse, and I judged that the water was not more thantwo feet lower on the flat than it was in the river.
"How deep is the water in the cut, Mr. Pilot?" I asked.
"Not less than eight feet; and it may be ten. You can't tell."
I stopped the Sylvania, and then rang to go ahead at full speed.
"Are you going through the crevasse?" demanded the pilot.
"I see no difficulty in doing so. Mr. Washburn, see that every openingin the deck and deck-house is closed and securely fastened."
"It will be a ticklish business to go through that breach," said thepilot, shaking his head.
"Would you let a hundred people drown without doing any thing to savethem?" I asked.
"Not if I could help it. I am willing to do all I can; but I shouldn'twonder if your boat made a dive into the mud on the other side of thelevee, and stuck there."
"If she does we have two life-boats at the davits," I replied.
The Sylvania soon got up her best speed, and the pilot steered thesteamer for a point just above the crevasse. I closed the windows ofthe pilot-house, and directed all hands to go on the hurricane-deck,except the engineers and firemen.
"I think you ought to stop the engine, for she will go through quickenough without any help," suggested the pilot.
"We must have steerage-way, or we can do nothing," I replied with quicktones, for we were within a few fathoms of the whirl of waters thatwere dashing through the crevasse. I felt the speed of the steamerincreasing, and I firmly grasped the wheel with the pilot.
"You know this boat better than I do, and this business is a little outof my line; but I will help you all I can," said the pilot, who seemedto be fully self-possessed, though he was not used to handling a vessellike the Sylvania.
Washburn came into the pilot-house, after seeing that all the openingswere closed, and the ship's company disposed in safe places.
"I don't think you will have any trouble going through there, Alick,"said the mate.
"I don't know as you will, but I wouldn't take a river-boat throughsuch a place unless she was insured for her full value," added thepilot.
"No more talking, if you please," I added.
We had entered the rapid current that swept into the crevasse. It was athrilling moment, for the next minute would determine whether theSylvania was to be swamped or not. But I had a reasonable degree ofconfidence in the vessel. She had always done all I expected of her,and I could hardly conceive of her disappointing me in this instance.
The people assembled on the levee uttered a long and deep shout ofwarning to us, but we had gone too far to recede even if we had beendisposed to do so. I saw the two men who had been swamped in the smallboat, still buoying themselves up with the oars; and beyond them thehouses tottering over as they were undermined by the rising waters. Thesight of these was quite enough to keep my courage up, and no thoughtof doing anything but trying to save those who must perish withoutassistance came to my mind.
The little steamer rushed madly into the opening, with her screwturning at its most rapid rate. When she had reached the fall she madea tremendous dive, as it were, burying her bowsprit in the muddy tide.Tons of the yellow fluid, loaded with sediment, flowed in on theforecastle and swept aft. I judged by the shock that she struck herfore-foot into the earth.
The muddy water swashed up, and entirely covered the windows of thepilot-house, leaving enough of the soil to make the glass as opaque asthe levee itself. We could not see a thing outside after this volume ofmud was discharged upon the windows. But in another instant I felt thebow of the steamer rising. The screw was still shaking the vessel, andI felt that no great injury had been done to her.
"Open the windows, if you please, Washburn," I said, trying to keep ascool as possible.
"We are all right now," added the pilot. "One of our river steamerswould never have come up after that dive."
I rang the speed-bell as soon as I felt that we were fairly through thecut in the levee. A yell from the people assured us that we were allright, if we did not find it out before.
"I suppose you are not a pilot in these waters!" I continued, turningto Mr. Bell, for that was his name.
"Well, hardly, in these waters: at any rate I never took a steamboatover this ground before. But I reckon I can do it as well as any otherman, for I was raised along here, and I know the lay of the land aswell as the water," replied the pilot.
The escape of steam from the safety-valve showed me that the engineershad slowed down, though I could not yet perceive it in the motion ofthe vessel. We were approaching the two men on the oars, and I rang tostop and back her. There was no difficulty in steering the steamerafter we were out of the swiftest of the current, and I left thepilot-house.
The Sylvania looked as though she had been buried in yellow mud for ayear, and had just been dug out. The water had all passed out at thescupper-holes and swinging-ports; but the deck and a considerableportion of the deck-house were covered with the mud from the water. Allhands except the chief engineer and one fireman had come out of thehiding-places, and were ready for duty.
"Clear away the starboard quarter-boat," I called. "Mr. Washburn, youwill pick up those men, and do it as quick as possible, for we areneeded at those plantations."
The crew got into the boat and lowered it into the water. In a momentmore they were pulling with all their might for the two men, who weresome distance apart. They picked them up, one at a time, and came backto the Sylvania. They hooked on the falls, and with the help of BenBowman and Hop Tossford, hoisted the boat up to the davits. The two menrescued from the water seemed to be very much exhausted, and we helpedthem on deck.
The moment the boat was out of the water, I rang to go ahead. I toldMoses to let her run at half speed, for I was afraid she might strikeagainst some hummock, or other obstruction, and stick in the mud, whichwould cause a delay, if nothing worse. I sent Buck to the top-gallantforecastle with the hand lead, and he reported eleven feet.
"The ground is low here," said the pilot; "but I think we can carryeight feet up to the knoll on which the houses stood. They must havehad eight or nine in some parts of it, or the cabins of the niggerswouldn't have been upset."
"I think we can hurry her a little along here," I replied, ringing thespeed-bell.
"By the mark twain," said Buck.
"He threw the lead into a hole that time," added the pilot.
"And a half-one," continued
Buck.
"You will hold that all the way till you get to the knoll," said Mr.Bell. "We are going at a rattling speed."
"We shall be all right as long as we have eight feet. Our coal bunkersare pretty well emptied, and I don't know but we could go with sevenand a half. It is plain sailing; but we must feel along when it getsdown to eight and a half," I replied.
The two men who had been taken from the water came to the forecastle atthis moment. They were covered with yellow mud, and of course they werewet to the skin. But it was a hot day, and the sun was shiningbrightly. When I asked them, they told me they had come from one of thesteamers that had stopped at the levee to render assistance.
"Eight feet and a half," shouted Buck.
I rang the speed bell, which soon reduced our rate one-half. Buck stillreported eight and a half. We were within a hundred yards of themansion-houses, of which I could see four, the lower parts of whichwere under water. We could see the inmates in the second stories. Butthe negro cabins were upset and many of them were floating about. Itwas evident enough that they had been built on lower ground than theresidences of the planters. The knoll was covered with shade-trees andshrubs, and the estates were as beautiful as anything I ever lookedupon--that is, what I could see of them above the water.
"Eight feet!" shouted the leadsman, with energy.
I rang to stop her, for I could feel a sort of sensation as though thekeel of the Sylvania was making a furrow in the field under us. Thesteamer stopped almost as soon as I rang the bell. But as the water wasrising instead of falling, I did not feel at all concerned about hersituation. I immediately ordered both boats to be lowered. Ben and Hopwent off in one, and Buck and Landy in the other. Not far from theknoll, which could not have been more than three or four feet above theflat over which we had been sailing, I saw the boat the two men fromthe steamer had been swamped in. I told Buck to tow it to the steamer,and we had it alongside in a few moments. I sent the quarter-boat backto the rescue of the people in the houses and cabins. The riversteamer's boat was full of water. We drew her under the davits on theport side, made fast to her, and hauled her out of the water, hoistingthe bow end first, so that the water would run out of her. When bothends were abreast of the rail of the vessel, we tipped her over, andentirely freed her of water. I sent Washburn and Dyer Perkins in her toassist the other two boats.
Even at this important hour, the abominably dirty condition of theSylvania, which had been bathed in mud, actually pained me. Away fromthe furious current of the crevasse, the mud settled, and the water wascomparatively clean. Cobbington and the two waiters had been at workswabbing the quarter-deck, but with no good result. I directed theengineer to rig the fire-engine, and we soon drowned the decks withwater. This, with the swabs, made clean work. By the time the firstboat came off from the knoll, the Sylvania looked nearly as neat aswhen she had left the great river. The hot sun dried the planks aboutas soon as they were swabbed.
In the port-boat, under the direction of Ben Bowman, was a family offour persons whom I took to be the occupants of one of the mansions. Agentleman and his wife, with a son and daughter, were the first helpedon board: nearly all the others were negroes. I showed the white peopledown into the cabin, and directed Cobbington to do all he could fortheir comfort.
In the course of half an hour we had seventy-two persons whom werescued. We were unable to find any more. The three boats had searchedevery house which could contain a human being. They had taken men,women and children from the trees, as well as the houses. We soundedthe whistle vigorously, and then waited for any call.
There were no more, and I directed the pilot to work back to the levee.
