V
The sea-swept Buccaneer, bucking the northwester, was putting in great licks on the southerly tack. Suddenly the forward watch, trying to keep warm in the lee of a bit of canvas tacked to the weather fore-rigging, spied an abandoned vessel.
“Wreck O!” his voice rang above the gale. Crump Taylor and half the crew came piling up to the tumbling deck.
“Where away? Sure enough! Let’s see again. That’s what—a wreck!”
The fast-sailing Buccaneer was soon abreast of her. “Jibe her over and sail around her—let’s have a closer look,” said Crump, and the man at the wheel did as bid.
“She’s pretty low, and all iced up. She looks bad, but you never can tell. What the devil’s that big tug doin’, and not helpin’ her? But no matter what he’s doin’—drop alongside there—not too close. One roll of her atop of us and our names’d be in the papers with the fine notices they give a man when he’s dead. ‘An honor to their profession,’ ‘Too bad they died,’ and so on—all fine enough, but not healthy. Hi, aboard the bark—what’s wrong?”
Again was the story told—of the harrowing drift past the edge of the shoals and their present plight. “Take us off,” it was then—“for God’s sake, take us off!”
“We got no boat,” said Crump to that. “But wait, there’s that tug,” and motioning to the wheel, “Jog over to the tug.”
“Those men want to be taken off,” hailed Crump when he was close to the towboat.
“Well?” said Dixey.
“And you got two boats?”
“Yes, and one already smashed trying to put it over.”
“Well, there’s the other.”
“And smash that, too?”
“Well, I’ll be damned—and a frost-bitten crew alongside—and their vessel sinkin’ under their feet. How about the busted one towin’ astern?”
“It’s full of water.”
“Well, cast her adrift, and we’ll stand by and pick her up and patch her up and take the bark’s crew off with her.”
“Lord, you’re the devil and all, ain’t you?”
“Now, what d’y’ think o’ that?” was all the disgusted Crump could splutter by way of condemnation. He turned to his crew. “All there’s to it is, we’ll have to get ’em off ourselves.”
“But how’ll we get ’em off, Skipper, without a boat?”
“I know.” Sam Leary bobbed up. “Let ’em run a line from their masthead to a block in our riggin’ and again a block on deck with a couple of men standin’ by to haul and slack, and let them come down the incline like’s if ’twas a breeches buoy.”
“Sam,” said Crump admiringly, “but you’re sure a wizard.”
Crump hailed to the bark and explained. The bark’s crew did their share. One after the other they came whizzing down to the deck of the fisherman. Her captain, the last to leave, set fire to the few dry places below before he went. An excruciating half-hour it was, but at last the crew of the bark were on the deck of the schooner. “And now go below,” commanded Crump, “and turn into the dry blankets. In five minutes the cook’ll have you full of hot coffee.”
Seeing the strangers on the way to comparative comfort, he returned to active business. Crump was ever a man of action.
“Who’s in for salvage?”
“Me!” said eighteen members.
“And who’ll be the prize crew?”
“Me!” said nineteen, this count including the cook, just then running aft with more hot coffee. The nineteen, and doubtless Crump also, had visions of an adventure that might yet net them a good trip.
“And now to get aboard. How’ll we get a man aboard her for a starter? How about that, Sam? We can’t go up the way they came down, can we? Get your head to working.”
“Why, swing aboard by our dory taykles. When we roll down and our mastheads are ’most over her deck, a man can let go and drop off.”
“And suppose a man misses?” Crump put the question like a lecturer in front of a class.
“He must’nt miss—unless he’s an AI swimmer. If he——”
“O Skipper, they’re making ready to put over a boat from the tug!”
“The devil—tryin’ to steal our prize! Get a move on, fellows! If they’re half-way smart they’ll beat us out, and you know marine law—whoever puts the first man aboard c’n claim salvage rights. We got to beat ’em, Sam, and that dory-taykle scheme’s not quick enough. How’ll we do it now?”
“If you’re good and careful I’ll try the main-boom jump. But you got to be careful—in this sea, Skipper.”
“All right. Sail around her again,” called Crump to the wheelsman. “Now, fellows, when she’s comin’ afore it let her main sheet run to the knot, and put the boom taykle to her and be sure to choke it up hard and tight. This no place for accidents.”
Which they did, and as the Buccaneer came flying down toward the stern of the bark, Sam Leary ran out on the boom, which was then at right angles to her rail, leaning against the sail as he ran. At the end of the boom he gathered himself for the leap. “Steady, Skipper—you know what it means if I miss.”
“Trust me, Sammie.” Crump held the wheel, and in the touch of his hand was the full genius of steering. “Trust me, Sammie,” he repeated, while Sam again gathered himself, and from under the stern of the bark, the Buccaneer lifting to a sea, he made the jump. It was a lesson in helpfulness to see, at the psychological moment, the entire crew’s arms unconsciously raised to waft him on.
Sam’s feet hit the icy rail, and away he went, skating half the length of her quarter and coming down—bam! on the seat of his oilskins.
“Hurt you, Sammie?” came sympathetic voices from the deck of the Buccaneer.
“Never jarred me,” affirmed Sam, and waved his hand at the discomfited master of the tugboat.
“Yes,” commented Crump, looking over to the tug, “that does for his salvage. And now I’ll put her alongside, Sammie, and we’ll try your dory-taykle scheme.”
When Crump had his tackles rigged he called out: “I’ll hoist the men up and let ’em drop aboard. Only you run an end of a halyard from the bark, Sammie, to haul ’em well inboard.”
“And tell ’em what I said about not missing, Skipper.”
“I’ll give ’em written instructions,” said Crump to that.
“Just like putting fish out on the dock, ain’t it?” hallooed the first man, while he was still in the air. Down he came—plump! and his teeth rattled when he hit the upheaving deck.
“Hurry up, a few more of you, and help to put out the fire here—this no place for jokes.”
When he had seven men, Sam waved an arm to Crump. “No more, no more, Skipper.”
“But me, Skipper, me!” appealed every individual one of those left behind.
“No.”
Despite that, “Just me!” a half dozen men with uplifted arms implored the Skipper. “Just me, Skipper, just me!” Most persistent of all was young Gillis. “Just me, and make a good prize crew. That’ll be eight men and myself—nine men all told. Luck in odd numbers. Besides, I’m Sam’s watch-mate, and Sam said he never had a watch-mate like me.”
“H’m— I cal’late that’s right. Just you, then, but hurry.”
Gillis hurried, so much so that instead of dropping aboard the bark he fell into the sea between the bark and the schooner.
He came spluttering to the top. “Heave me a line, somebody!” A dozen lines were hove at him and two draw buckets; one, hitting him on the head, all but drove him under again.
“There’s a fine waste of draw buckets,” commented one of the prize crew ere they had him safe on the bark.
“Oh, but that fire feels good!” chattered Gillis, and took station by the main hatch, where he might heave buckets of water on the fire without removing too far from the heat of it.
It took them the better part of two hours to master the fire. “To the pumps!” said Sam then, and, double-manned by fresh vigorous men, the pumps soon began to lessen the deluge in the hold.
“And now make sail, Sam,” called Crump from the Buccaneer.
“Aye. Who’s ever been square-riggin’?” asked Sam of his prize crew then. Two men answered to that.
“You’ll be captain of one watch, and you of the other. That’s for knowin’ about a square-rigger. And now let’s make sail.”
They could not make sail very well, however, because there was not sail enough to make—that is, to set sail as it should be set on a square-rigger. But there was enough for half-sails, and they made half-sails for her accordingly.
“Now she’s a fore-and-after, isn’t she?” commented Sam. “All right, now—we can do somethin’ with her now—hah, what?”
“Yes, and we won’t need any captains of watches in her, will we, Sam?” queried Gillis, thereby betraying a slight jealousy of the superior ranks.
“That’s so—we won’t, will we? You two square-riggers, you Charlie and you Dinnie, you’ll be just ordinary hands again.”
“Well, well, ordinary hands ain’t bad—there’ll be good prize money out of this, Sam.”
“If we keep her afloat there’ll be.”
“Oh, we’ll keep her afloat, Sam.”
“It’s good you think so. But to the wheel now. Who’s first watch?”
“O Sam”— Gillis was peering into the binnacle—“her compass is busted!”
Sam ran aft to see for himself. “So it is. Man, but they’ve had crazy doin’s aboard this one.”
“Aye, and her rudder’s been pounded off,” came from another.
“No compass and no rudder, hah? Wouldn’t that jolt you, though? Well—” Sam looked around. “O Skipper,” he hailed to his vessel, “you’ll have to come under our stern and make the Buccaneer act as a rudder for this one.”
“It’s easy done,” said Crump, and passed up the lines to hold the Buccaneer in proper fashion to the bark.
With everything fast and taut and the bark beginning to show signs of life, the Ice King ranged alongside the Buccaneer.
Dixey’s head was poked out the pilot-house. “I say, Captain,” he called, “you’ll never be able to beat home with her. What d’y’ say if you take our line and we tow you both to Boston—or Gloucester? It’s out of the question you gettin’ her home under sail. You keep your gang aboard to keep her pumped out, and I’ll tow her and we’ll split the salvage. What d’y’ say? You’ll never see home and you hang on to her.”
“And you the man wouldn’t lend us your old boat?” called back Crump.
“That’s all right, Captain. Business is business. Better take my line. You’ll never see home and you hang on to her that way.”
Sam had to put in a word here. “Don’t you take any old line from him, Skipper. Fine days when steamboat men c’n tell us our business!”
“No fear of me, Sam. Sheer off, you,” and Crump waved the tug contemptuously away.
With a final word from the pilot-house, “Well, don’t blame me if you lose your prize and your men both,” the big sea tug moved toward the northwest, where soon she was lost in the haze.