by Oliver Optic
CHAPTER XXVI.
A DESPERATE STRUGGLE WITH THE RUSHING WATERS.
The water had risen so that the Sylvania had swung around and driftedhalf-way up to the knoll, or to the houses on the highest part of it.As soon as we were under way, I had a chance to look over our largenumber of passengers. Three-quarters of them were negroes, mostlyhouse-servants. I was told that the field hands had escaped in anotherdirection before the water rose high enough to prevent it. Theinundation was only partly due to the crevasse, for the water hadbroken in at some unknown point in the rear of the plantations.
We had taken off the four families that occupied the mansion houses.They were all highly cultivated people, ladies and gentlemen in thehighest sense of the words. I had conducted them all to the main cabin;but they were not disposed to remain there. They wanted to see how theSylvania was to return to the Mississippi River, and expressed manydoubts as to her being able to make her way through the crevasseagainst the strong current. I had some painful doubts myself in thisdirection. I had told the engineer about them, and hinted that weshould want all the steam he could carry. But it was only a question ofthe power of the engine to force the vessel against the current. Therewould be no pitching and plunging, such as we had experienced in comingthe other way.
We had not long to deliberate upon the matter of our exit from thefields over which we had been sailing. As the water had risen about afoot inside of the levee, I considered our chances good of goingthrough without much difficulty. I went to the wheel, and took a placeby the pilot. I saw that several steamers had arrived during ourabsence, and the pilot said they were attached to the levee force, andhad come to close the breach. I could not see how it was to be done,but I had no time to think of the matter. I rang the gong one strokewhen we were within a hundred yards of the crevasse, as I had arrangedwith the engineer to do.
The Sylvania soon began to shake and quiver as though she were in thehands of an angry giant, under the pressure of the steam. I had sentall the passengers to the after part of the vessel, giving the plantersand their families places on the hurricane-deck. I desired to trim heraft, as we had hardly coal enough in the bunkers to keep the screwentirely under water. I regarded it as an excellent thing to have somuch "live ballast" on board. I gave Buck and Hop strict orders not tolet a single person come on the forecastle.
I put Cobbington and Ben Bowman on the hurricane-deck, to keep thepassengers there on the after part. If a few went forward, they wouldall do so, for it was the best place to see the operation of thesteamer. By these means I hoped to keep the propeller entirely underwater, and thus get the full benefit of its action on the swiftcurrent. It was still a torrent, but by no means so terrible as when wehad gone through before.
Moses Brickland had never shaken the Sylvania as he was shaking hernow. He was a prudent young man, and I never had occasion to criticisewhat he did. He understood the present situation as well as I did. Thelevee force was waiting to close the gap, and thus save many more livesmiles from the scene of its operations. We must get through at once, orthe gap would be closed. The abrupt fall was not more than a foot now,and I had strong hopes that we could overcome it.
It seemed to me that the water was rushing through the crevasse at therate of twenty miles an hour. The arithmetic of the situation wastherefore all against me. Moses had never run the Sylvania more thantwelve knots an hour, and he was obliged to hurry her to do that. Hehad told me he could get fifteen miles an hour out of her on a greatemergency, but he had never been disposed to try it. He had overhauledthe boiler at New Orleans, and reported it in first-rate condition. YetI could not, mathematically, see how a vessel going fifteen miles anhour could stem a current of twenty miles.
But the force of the current was merely guesswork. It might be twenty,and it might be no more than ten miles. Mr. Bell agreed with me on theformer figure, while Washburn and Ben Bowman insisted that it was notmore than ten at the present time. If I "split" the difference betweenthe two estimates, it would leave just the result which the engineercould obtain on an emergency like the present.
The Sylvania went into the rapid current, which we began to feel atfifty yards from the gap. But it did not stop, or even sensibly detainus, for the water was scattered as soon as it passed through theopening. We made our course at a right angle with the levee, and keptthe helm firmly against any tendency to "wabble;" for if the swift tidehad struck her on the side, it would have hurled her around in spite ofus.
At twenty yards from the levee we began to slacken our speed, for herewe got almost the full force of the current. But she still went ahead,though she quivered as if the struggle would shake her in pieces. Notone of us said a word in the pilot-house. I directed the helm, for Iwas more accustomed to the working of the steamer than any of mycompanions.
The bow went up abreast of the inside of the dike. The Sylvaniatrembled like a race-horse after his first heat. We held her headsteadily up to the work, but I could not see that she gained a singleinch. The propeller whirled like a circular saw, such as I had oftenobserved in the lumber-mills at home. I almost fancied that I couldhear it buzz.
I watched the edge of the crevasse, but I could not see that we eithergained or lost. For several minutes we struggled against the savagetide. It was a desperate situation. The people on the levee, nowswelled into a crowd by the arrival of several steamers, were watchingus with intense interest. No one spoke a word.
"Look out sharp for the helm, Mr. Bell," I shouted, so as to be heardabove the roar of the rushing waters and the clang of the engine.
I thought he did not respond to my movements with the wheel as promptlyas was necessary. I felt that the least turn to the right or the leftwould be fatal to us, for by this time I realized that the situationwas vastly more perilous than when we went into the current before. Theleast "wabble" might cause the current to strike her on the side, andsend her over on her beam ends in the vortex below us.
"Can't you crowd her a little more, Moses," I called through thespeaking-tube.
"Not much more," he promptly replied.
"We are not losing anything," said the pilot, holding his breath.
"Mind the helm," I replied, for I felt that I could not hold her alone."If we get the bow half a degree across the current, it is all up withus."
"I can hold her alone, but you take the feeling off my hands," heanswered, warmly.
He meant that I began to move the wheel before he felt the pressure onhis hands, for one steers a vessel very much as he drives a horse, anddepends quite as much upon feeling as upon sight. My feeling was muchquicker than his, and I would not give up the helm to him, but told himhe must watch my movements.
"We have gained an inch!" exclaimed the pilot.
"What is an inch going through such a torrent as this?" I replied,though I felt encouraged by the fact, if it was a fact, for I dared notlook to the right or the left, as he did.
It seemed to me that the steamer would soon go through the crevasse orshake herself to pieces in the struggle. The jar and the quivering wereso much increased that I was sure Moses was doing something more thanhe ordinarily considered his best. In a few minutes more we had worriedup the little fall, which indicated the difference between the heightof the water on either side of the levee. We had gained several yards,but I don't think we made more than an inch a minute; and those minutesseemed like hours.
Suddenly the Sylvania began to increase her speed through the water,and I concluded that we had passed the swiftest part of the current.Washburn informed me that the stern of the steamer was inside of thecut, and I felt that the battle was won. Still I kept my eyes fixed onthe flagpole forward, in order to hold the vessel in the middle of thegap.
"I think we shall fetch it," said Mr. Bell.
"No doubt of it, if we don't lose our chances by talking about them," Ireplied.
The pilot said no more. I did not want him to abate his zeal until wewere outside of the levee, for it would have been the easiest thing inthe world t
o lose all we had gained by the struggle of the last hour.We kept it up half an hour longer. When the bow was outside of thelevee, I was afraid Bell would think we were safe, while it was stillpossible to be carried back. But the steamer increased her speed everymoment now, and we were soon out in the broad river. I kept her on hercourse, and as soon as she was clear of the treacherous current, shedarted off at a furious speed.
"All right, Moses!" I shouted through the tube. The next instant Iheard the steam escaping furiously through the safety-valve. I had nodoubt that the chief-engineer felt an intense relief when he heard myvoice the last time, for no money or any consideration short of thesafety of the Sylvania would have permitted him to put on such a pressof steam.
"Excuse me, Mr. Bell, if I spoke sharply to you, or said anything thathurt your feelings, for I meant nothing of the kind," I said to thepilot, when we were in the middle of the river.
"Don't mention it, captain," he replied, warmly. "I can say, and Ireckon I know something about steamboats, I never saw a boat betterhandled than this one has been from first to last. I thought I had onlya boy for a captain, but I find that you understand your business."
"Thank you, Mr. Bell; you are very kind to say so," I replied, with ablush. "I think I know the feeling of this vessel's helm rather betterthan any one in these parts, and I was a little afraid you might notsee the necessity of keeping her up, without any wabbling."
"You were right every time, captain. I never handled a craft of thesort before, and it was quite right for you to trust her to no one butyourself."
As soon as we were fairly out in the river, the people on the leveesset up a volley of cheers, which was taken up by the negroes on board.I saw the Islander had made fast to a steamer a little below thebreach, and I asked the pilot to lay the Sylvania alongside of her.
"Young man, you are a brave boy," said Colonel Hungerford, the planterwho had first come on board of the steamer. "I was on the point oftelling you before you started back, that you could never get throughthat hole; and I was going to tell you of a way by which you could havegot through the lakes and streams into the Bayou la Fourche, and upthat to the Mississippi. But I see you need no advice from me. We areall very grateful to you."
"I beg you will not feel under any obligation to us, for we are sort ofsea-knights, roaming about in quest of adventures; and we were veryglad of the opportunity to render you and others any assistance. Ibelieve you and your family were in no particular danger."
"I don't know about that, my young captain," replied the planter,shaking his head. "My mansion is surrounded with verandahs, and thewater was beginning to lift it off its foundations."
I took my glass and looked at the house. One end of it appeared to belifted up.
"I would not have staid in it two hours more for half the state. I havebeen through three inundations before, and I know something aboutthem," replied the planter. "I hope I shall see more of you."
As we came up to the Islander, the passengers of both vessels, on boardof her, began to clap their hands. I was embarrassed by thisdemonstration, and after asking Washburn to see that we were made fastto our consort, I sat down in the pilot-house where they could not seeme.
