CHAPTER XIII. THE DISASTER TO THE SILVER MOON.
The stout students at the oars of the Marian drove the barge ahead, helped somewhat by the wind, so that the great billows seemed to have no effect upon her. In a few minutes she was in the midst of the heaviest of the waves. Sometimes she trembled and shook, but she did not yield sensibly to the power which was opposed to her.
"I think that is Tom Bissell's boat," said Paul Bristol, who was watching the craft in trouble very attentively. "When I went to see my sister in Westport, about a month ago, she was sewing a full moon into a blue flag."
"A full moon?" queried Dick.
"It was a round piece of white stuff, and it looked like a full moon."
"She has a burgee with a white circle on a blue ground," added Dick. "Then that must be Tom Bissell's boat?"
"She is a sloop as big as the Goldwing," continued Paul.
"Who is Tom Bissell?" asked the coxswain.
"He runs a store in Westport, and his wife keeps a millinery shop in the same building. My sister worked for them," replied Paul.
"Does he know how to handle a sailboat?"
"He thinks he does, and most people believe he does."
"Perhaps he does, and has met with some accident to his sail or rigging," added Dick. "I believe there are some ladies in the boat."
"I shouldn't wonder, for his wife is as fond of sailing as he is; and sometimes he takes out the girls that work for them," said Paul.
"The sloop is in the trough of the sea, rolling very badly. She is having a rough time of it," continued Dick, as the Marian came near enough for him to see the position of the craft.
"I am very sure that is the Silver Moon," added Paul.
"If it is, it looks like a wet moon, as Bates calls it, when he looks to the silvery orb for the state of the weather," said Dick.
The waves were certainly having it all their own way so far as the Silver Moon was concerned. The peak of the mainsail had been dropped, and the main sheet had run out so that the boom stood at right angles with the keel. Either the halyards were foul, or the rudder had given out, or she was suffering from both of these mishaps. As the sloop rolled with a heavy jerk in the violent seas, the ladies screamed as though they expected each movement would send them to the bottom.
The craft contained six ladies and one man. The latter was baling out the boat with a bucket, and was working with all his might. He had pluck enough; but the sloop seemed to be dipping up more water than he could possibly throw out, though he had doubtless delayed a little the catastrophe which awaited him.
"The craft contained six ladies and one man."—Page 137.
Dick looked back at the other barges, and he was confident that they had not gained even a length upon the Marian since they all started for the craft in peril. He had not driven his crew, though he had kept them at work briskly. In the barge fleet, Oscar Chester, as coxswain of the senior boat, as the Gildrock was ranked, was the acting commodore. When the barges were within hail of each other, he was in command of the fleet. If the Winooski and Marian were within hail, the command devolved upon Thad Glovering.
As long as the other barges were as far off as at present, Dick Short was in full command. He could use such measures as he thought best, but the coxswain of either of the other boats could take the management of the affair into his own hands, if he chose to do so. As the Marian approached the sloop, Dick quickened the movements of his crew, for he desired to take some action before he was superseded in the command.
The Silver Moon was headed to the northeast, and lay in the trough of the sea. She was rolling like a round log in the heavy waves. She had settled down deep in the water, and behaved like a stick of wood. The skipper was doing nothing at all to combat with the waves. As there was no power exerted to force the boat ahead, she had no steerage way, and the rudder was as useless as the spare tiller.
The Marian went as closely astern of the Silver Moon as she could without fouling the port oars. The moment they were clear of the hull of the sloop it was time to execute the difficult manœuvre of the occasion. In coming entirely about it was necessary to put the barge in the trough of the sea for an instant, and this was the dangerous point.
But Dick Short had decided to pass this point of danger as nearly under the lee of the Silver Moon as he could. The water on the starboard of the sloop was a trifle smoother for a couple of fathoms. It required a nice measurement of distances with the eye to handle the boat, and a prompt obedience of orders on the part of the crew.
"Port side! Stand by to lay on your oars!" called the coxswain, when the Marian was astern of the sloop. "Oars!" he added, as soon as the last blade on the port was clear of the hull. "On the starboard, give way lively!"
The effect of the first stroke of the starboard oars, after the order was given, was to throw the head of the barge to port. A few more pulls brought the boat into the trough of the sea; but it remained in that position only an instant.
"Port oars!" continued Dick. "Hold water! Stern all!"
The port oarsmen backed water as the starboard rowers gathered up their blades, so that no confusion occurred, and in less than half a minute the Marian was headed up to the sea, with her stem within a few feet of the sloop.
"On the port, oars!" At this command, the oarsmen indicated lay upon their oars again, and seemed as unmoved as though they had been in the school-room, and not one of them looked behind him.
All the crew had obtained a single glance at the interior of the Silver Moon the moment before the barge began to swing around; but this was all they knew about the sloop, except what they had heard the coxswain say.
"Stand by, all, to lay on your oars!" called Dick, as coolly as though nothing was the matter with the Silver Moon, and her passengers were in a frolic rather than in mortal peril. "Oars!" And every blade was poised and feathered on a level above the water.
"Bowman, stand by with the boat-hook!" continued Dick. "One stroke! Give way!"
This single stroke brought the bow up near enough to the sloop to enable the bowman to fasten the boat-hook to the gunwale of the helpless craft. The crew lay upon their oars, ready to obey the next order, but not one of them manifested the slightest interest in the Silver Moon, so far as any look or movement was concerned. Paul Bristol was excited and uneasy, and once he was on the point of standing up to get a better view of the interior of the sloop. But he remembered the order of the coxswain in season to restrain himself.
"On board the Silver Moon!" shouted the coxswain, but not louder than was necessary to make the skipper hear him above the noise of the wind and the water. "What is the matter?"
"I miss-stayed in going about, and shipped a sea. The boat is half full of water, and I can't do anything with her," replied Bissell, in tones which indicated that he was in utter despair. "The girls are frightened out of their wits, and the water comes in faster than I can get it out."
"Do you want assistance?" asked the coxswain.
"Of course I do!" exclaimed the skipper. "We shall all go to the bottom in a few minutes, for there is a good deal of ballast in the boat."
"All right! We will stand by you," replied Dick.
"Can't you do something more than that?" demanded Bissell, in shaky tones.
"I will send two hands on board to assist you," added Dick. "Dory, you will go on board of the Silver Moon. Take any one you please with you, and report what you think should be done."
"As Paul Bristol is of the least use in the barge, I will take him," replied Dory, as he unshipped his oar.
"He is not the best boatman on board," added the coxswain.
"If he will only obey orders, that is all I want of him," answered Dory, as he made his way to the bow of the barge.
A standing order to all hands was never to stand up in a boat when it could possibly be avoided, and Dory crawled on all fours, from thwart to thwart, between the oarsmen. He was followed by Paul, in the same safe though undignified manner, for he thought it was not derogatory to follow the example of the skipper of the Goldwing. The bowman hauled the boat up so that the two hands could get on board of her.
Just at that moment all the girls screamed, or, as Paul expressed it, "squealed," and the lee side of the Silver Moon rolled under, taking in a barrel or two of water.
"We shall all be drowned!" shrieked one of the ladies, as they all sprang out of their seats and rushed over to the weather side, throwing the boat out of trim so that she took in another barrel of water over the port side.
"She won't sink yet, ladies, unless you sink her," said Dory, rather sharply. "Three of you on each side, and don't move for your lives. You will certainly swamp the boat if you don't keep still. Don't one of you move again without orders."
"That's what's the matter," said the skipper. "I can't keep them still."
"They must keep still," added Dory with emphasis.
Just at that moment came another roll, and Dory told Paul to stand in the middle of the boat, and allow none of the passengers to move. He took position near him, and together they kept the ladies quiet, and very little water was taken aboard.
"I am about used up," said Bissell, who was still baling with all his might, though he was nearly exhausted. "I have been throwing out the water for more than an hour."
"You might as well try to bail out Lake Champlain as this boat, while she lies in her present position. The water comes in faster than you can throw it out," said Dory. "Here come our other barges. Don't be alarmed, ladies. Even if the boat sinks, we can save every one of you. Do as you are told, and you shall be made comfortable in a few minutes."
Oscar Chester put the Gildrock about with consummate skill, though the barge shipped some water during the manœuvre. Thad Glovering did quite as well in the Winooski. In a few moments, the three barges had brought their bows up to the water-logged sloop. The oars were trailed, and bunters put over the sides to prevent the boats from grinding against each other. The Silver Moon smoothed the water for them a little, and they rode very easily on the swell.
Dick Short reported to the acting commodore what he had done, and Oscar said he should not interfere. At this time, Dory reported the condition of the sloop, and advised that two of the six ladies be taken into each barge. With great difficulty, on account of the uneasy motion of the boats, the passengers were transferred to the stern-sheets of the barges. They were all wet through, but the commodore would not allow the boats to leave the scene of the disaster until the safety of the Silver Moon was assured.