IN THE COILS OF A "TWISTER"
"There he goes! Oh, that's too bad!" groaned the captain.
He had seen the boy's body shoot outward.
"No, he's struck something. He's caught a stay," cried the executive officer.
"He'll never hang there. He'll surely go over now."
Dan was hanging with desperate courage to the rope that he had caught.
"Such grit! What a pity!"
By this time the jackies had reached the platform, but they could be of no assistance to their shipmate. Dan was hanging twenty feet out from where they were.
He seemed to have lost his bearings, and, for the moment, appeared not to realize where he was. Little by little his power of reasoning returned to him, while all hands were watching him with breathless interest. The stay to which he was clinging extended forward to the foremast, running from the middle of the mainmast to the middle of the foremast.
Hand over hand the plucky lad began moving along the rope brace. It was slow progress at best. At last he was directly over the huge funnels. Hot, suffocating smoke, belching from the funnels, hid him from the view of those on deck. The smoke and coal gas well-nigh strangled the boy, but he kept on. A cheer reached his ears as he at last emerged from the cloud of black smoke.
"Keep it up, Dynamite! Keep it up!" howled a dozen voices.
"Steady now! Hold to your course. You're on the last lap!"
"Come on, Dan!" howled Sam Hickey, dancing about on his insecure foothold, almost beside himself with excitement.
On the other hand, at that moment, Dan Davis was perhaps the least excited of all that ship's company. He was in full command of himself, though his arms ached and he had to exert great self-control to keep from letting go. Now and then he would pause, hanging by one hand to rest the other arm, then he would go on again, moving more rapidly than before.
"Bridge, there!" roared Sam.
"Aye, aye."
"Can't somebody come aloft to give Davis a hand when he reaches the foremast?"
"Get aloft, there!" bellowed the executive officer.
"Yes, the boy Hickey has more sense than all the rest of we officers down here," exclaimed the captain.
Men ran up the ladders in a squirming white line, and quickly clambered out into the steel rigging. As Dan neared them they stretched forth their hands.
"Only a little way further, matey," they encouraged. "That's the boy! You'll make a tight-rope walker one of these days, only you want to learn to walk with your feet instead of your hands."
"Grab me!" called Dan.
"Got him!" yelled a jackie at the top of his voice.
The word carried to the bridge and to the superstructure, where a hundred or more sailors were crouching trying to peer up into the mist. They broke forth into a wild yell of applause.
In the meantime strong hands had grasped Dan, pulling him in among the steel supports of the cage mast, where they held him while he rested from his great ordeal.
Sam Hickey was dancing a jig on the top of the military mast, yelling as if he had suddenly gone mad.
"The boy is safe, sir," announced the executive officer.
"Thank God!" breathed the captain. "Aloft, there!"
"Aye, aye."
"Is Davis all right?"
"Yes, sir."
"Send him below as soon as he is able."
"Aye, aye, sir."
"I'm able now," said Dan. "I'm going below. I've got to get back to my station."
"All right, matey. Want any help?"
"No; I can get down alone."
Dan's arms ached, and his muscles were pretty well stiffened, as he started to make his way down the rocking mast.
At last he reached the foot of the mast, which was the navigating bridge of the ship, and started to run down the steps to return to his post.
"Davis!" The voice was sharp and commanding.
"Aye, aye, sir," answered the boy, halting and saluting.
"Where are you going?"
"To my post, sir," he answered, as he faced the commanding officer.
"You need not return to your post. There are enough men aloft in the mainmast now. You have done quite enough. How did you happen to fall?"
The boy explained, not omitting the fact that he and Sam were running a race for the tops.
The captain did not rebuke the boy for this, perhaps realizing that Dan had already been severely punished for his foolhardiness.
"That is all for the present. Aloft, there!"
"Aye, aye, sir."
"How about that waterspout!"
The seas were engulfing the ship so that the officers could not see the waterspout at all. They had wholly lost sight of it.
"Yeow! Wow!" yelled a voice far above their heads.
Looking up, they saw the red-headed Sam dancing again, shouting lustily and pointing off the starboard bow.
"Aloft, there, what is it?"
"Waterspout! Waterspout!" howled Hickey.
"Where away?"
"It ain't away at all."
"Where away? Answer, you lubber!"
"Right off the starboard bow, sir. Look out, she's going to hit us! Lo-o-o-o-k out! Ye-ow!"
"Hard aport!" shouted the captain. "Hold fast on the bridge! Look alive, men aft, there! Waterspout coming aboard. Every man look out for himself!"
All tried to do so, but not all were quick enough to get under cover. Only a few of them succeeded.
With a terrifying roar the waterspout swept down on the ship. It towered above them like a huge mountain, bearing to the northeast. It struck the battleship on the starboard bow, sending a shiver through the ship, hurling to the deck every man who was not clinging to some support.
The twister recoiled after sending tons of water over the ship—recoiled as if to gather strength for a final crushing blow. The quartermaster, who had been holding the steering wheel, had been wrenched from the wheel and hurled down a flight of steps to the spar deck. Not an officer on the bridge was on his feet.
Dan Davis, who had crept up the companionway to get a better view of the waterspout, was huddled against the cage mast, clinging to one of its supports.
All at once he discovered that no one was at the wheel. Without waiting for an order, he leaped forward. Grasping the wheel, he swung it sharply to port. The thought suddenly occurred to him that the best way to meet the twister would be head-on. He did not know what the result of such a meeting might be, nor did he have time to think. As it was, the ship was laboring in the trough of a terrific sea, and might be swamped.
The bow of the ship pierced the base of the waterspout. With a mighty roar the towering column of water suddenly collapsed. The sound was like thunder, as tons upon tons of water beat down on the decks. The whole ship seemed to be under water. Everything movable was moving. The officers lay prone upon the narrow navigating bridge, clinging to its stanchions for their lives.
At the wheel a hatless boy, fairly swimming in salt water, was working to get a foothold that would enable him to swing the ship. At last he managed to wrap both legs about the wheel frame, and there he clung, tugging at the wheel with all his strength.
Very slowly, at first, the ship began to respond. First the battleship seemed to shake itself, trying to throw off the great weight of water upon its decks; then its blunt, stubborn bow rose clear of the seas. A moment, and the shining decks themselves cleared the water, every scupper discharging a green salt flood overboard, every deck below soaked with brine.
The captain was the first to regain his feet. He sprang up, his eyes taking in the after part of the ship in one sweeping, comprehensive view. Then his eyes rested on the man at the wheel.
"Davis, is that you?"
"Yes, sir."
"You weren't at the wheel before we were struck?"
"No, sir."
"How did you happen to get there?"
"I guess I must have been washed here, sir.
"Where is the quartermaster who was at the wheel?"
"I saw him falling down the after companionway, sir. I think you will find him on the spar deck, sir."
"You steered us out?"
"Yes, sir."
"Where is the spout?"
"I smashed it, sir."
"You what?"
"Smashed it."
"How?"
"I steered the ship into it."
"You did that?"
"Yes, sir," answered Dan, now expecting that he was in for a severe rebuke.
"Explain."
"I saw, immediately after the wheelman had been swept away, that the ship was in a bad position. The waterspout was going to hit us, quartering on the starboard bow. It seemed to me that the best thing to do would be to split it. I didn't know whether I could do it or not, but I made up my mind to try. There was no one to ask, nor time to do so. I had to do something in a hurry."
"So you rammed the waterspout, eh?"
"I did, sir."
"What do you think of that, Coates?" as the executive officer picked himself up, wet, capless, very much the worse for his encounter with the waters of the twister.
"What is that, sir?"
"Davis rammed the twister."
The captain then went on to relate in detail what had happened while they were on their faces, holding fast to the bridge stanchions to keep from going overboard.
"Davis, I shall have to commend you again and for this—perhaps saving the ship—I shall send your name in to the department. Quartermaster, here!"
"Aye, aye, sir."
"Man the wheel!"