A Panic on Shipboard
A scene of the wildest description followed the frantic captain’s announcement and order. The sailors were panic stricken, and more than half of them plunged headlong into the sea.
The captain was scarcely less distracted than his men, and he only added to the helplessness of the situation by his words and actions.
Jack tried to pacify him by saying:
“Pardon me, señor capitan, but the ship will not sink at once if at all. You have plenty of time in which to save your lives.”
“But the Chilian! We shall be made prisoners of war. Heaven protect me! I was a fool to listen to you, Señor North.”
“It is too late to think of that now. It is your duty to see if something cannot be done to stop the ship’s leak.”
It was useless to try to reason with the Peruvian captain. He was sure the ship was going to sink, and seemed determined that she should.
Meanwhile the Chilian continued to draw nearer, though it had nearly stopped firing.
The trumpet-like tone of the commander rang over the water just as the terrified Peruvians lowered a boat and leaped headlong into it, that is, those who had not previously jumped into the sea.
Finding himself alone on the sinking vessel, which was going down fast, Jack answered the Chilian’s challenge:
“Ship ahoy! what do you want?”
“What ship is that?”
“The merchant ship, Santa Clara, Señor Captain, now sinking from the effects of your shot.”
“Lay to and I’ll come aboard.”
This command was not obeyed.
The doomed vessel was now lurching fearfully, and Jack knew that he could not leave it any too soon for his own safety of life. Fortunately the shore was not so far away but he believed he could reach it, and throwing off his outer garments, he leaped into the water.
The Peruvians were struggling in every direction, the boat having been upset by them in their mad endeavors to save themselves. Jack knew that the farther he got away from them and the quicker he did it, the better it would be for him. He left them in their furious, but futile, efforts to escape or drown, as their attempts for life deserved.
After swimming a short distance he looked back to find that he was just in season to witness the fate of the ship. He saw her make a sudden lurch forward, and then she seemed to right herself for a moment, but it was her death struggle, for with the next breath she went downward, quickly disappearing from sight forever.
“Another plan gone wrong,” thought Jack, “and again I am where I began.”
A less courageous youth than Jack North must have given up then, but with the stern determination of his nature not to give up, he resumed his swimming, reaching the land half an hour later.
“This is worse than before,” he said ruefully, as he viewed his drenched figure, “for I did save my coat then. Yes, and my cargo of nitrate is still on the mountain waiting for me. I think I will toss up a cent to see what I shall do next. No! come to think of it, I haven’t got the cent to do that!”
His first thought was to return to the machine shop in Tocopilla, but as De la Pama was nearer he decided to go there in the morning. “It is useless for me to remain here,” he reasoned, “I wonder how many of the Peruvians have escaped? They were a set of cowards anyway, and the captain the biggest fool of them all. I hope he will make good use of my money.”
Jack laid down supperless that night under the green blanket of a Peruvian forest, and he went on toward De la Pama the next morning breakfastless, thinking:
“There is one thing certain, I will not take Plum’s job from him. If he has no fireman, and will accept me, I will go as his helper.”
Though he did not seek immediately his friend, almost the first person he saw in town was Plum. It would be difficult to say which was the more surprised.
“What! not gone to the States, Jack?”
“No, Plum.”
“Something gone wrong, Jack, again?”
“About my usual luck, Plum. I am where I began--without a cent in my pocket,” and he quickly told the other what had befallen him since they had parted.
“It’s too bad, Jack, but I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I have what amounts to three hundred dollars that I’ve saved and every dollar of it is yours till you can pay it back.”
“I could not think of taking your hard earnings, Plum, for it is uncertain if I should ever be able to pay it back.
“I thank you from the bottom of my heart, but must look for work again.”
“Then you shall have my job, Jack. I had rather fire anyway; honest, Jack.”
“Thank you again, Plum, and it’s just like your generosity, but I cannot rob you of your situation. How does your fireman do?”
“Tip-top, I am sorry to say. To tell the truth, Jack, he does so well I am afraid he will get my job away from me. I wish you would take the lever again, Jack, and let me fire. I never had so good a time in my life as I did then.”
This was a little past noon, and a few minutes later Jack would be obliged to part with Plum, who must start on his return to St. Resa.
“There is one favor you can do me, Plum. If you will lend me money enough to buy a pair of oxen I will begin to team a cargo of nitrate down myself. I do not feel you will take much risk in letting me have that amount.”
“I only wish you would take more, Jack.”
“I think I have hit on a better plan this time,” said Jack, as he took the loan. “I am going to draw enough for a shipload down on the Bolivian coast and house it there until an American ship comes into harbor.
“I may have to wait a long time, but it will be best in the end.”
With his oldtime vivacity Jack set out on his new undertaking. He soon found a yoke of oxen to his liking, and finding he had money enough he bought a second pair. Then he started for the mountain ridge where he had so unceremoniously left his two loads of nitrate so long before.
He did not expect to recover the one that had gone over the precipice, though it had not moved from its singular position. To his joy he found the other just where he had left it. The rust had gathered on the iron-work and the sun had discolored the wood, but the wagon was in running order, and as the path from this point was generally descending he had no trouble in drawing the load, though his team consisted of one yoke of oxen less than before.
It would be tedious to follow him in his long, lonely journeys to Cobija, on the coast of Bolivia, where he stored his nitrate until he had there enough for a ship’s cargo. During the time his cattle lived by feeding on the grass that grew on the more fertile places along the route, while he lived on whatever food he could pick up, sleeping at night under his cart.
He had no further use for his oxen, so he sold them at the first favorable opportunity, realizing enough for them to pay back the money he had borrowed of his friend, with a fair rate of interest. Surely he had made a more auspicious beginning this time.