This, the commander knew, would penetrate to every nook and corner, reaching where water could not, and would soon quench the flames.
“Now, all we can do is to wait,” said the captain, as he sat down, for he was almost exhausted.
That was the hardest part of all. When one can be busy at something, getting out of danger, or fighting a fire that can be seen, the nervous fear is swallowed up in action. But to sit and wait—wait for the unseen steam to do its work,—that was very trying.
Still there was no help for it. Captain Wiggs looked to the other part of the cargo, seeing that there was no danger of that taking fire. The forward hold was separated from the others by thick bulkheads, and there was little chance of the fire breaking through. The hull of the Modoc was of steel, and, provided the fire did not get hot enough to warp any of the plates, there was small danger to the ship itself.
“We’ll have to head for shore, in case it becomes necessary to break out the cargo,” decided the captain, as he went on deck. “Come on, boys. We can do nothing now, and we want to get some of this smoke out of our lungs.”
The course of the ship was changed. Captain Wiggs got out his charts and looked them over.
“Where will we land?” asked Fenn.
“Not much of anywhere,” was the reply. “There is no good harbor this side of Duluth, but I’ve got to do the best I can. There is a little bay, about opposite here. There’s no settlement near it, but I understand there’s a good shore, and I’m going to make for it, in case this fire gets beyond my control.”
Urged on by all the steam the engines could take, though much was needed for the fire, the vessel plowed ahead.
“Land ho!” called the lookout, and the captain, taking an observation, announced they were close to the bay of which he had spoken. When it was reached it was found to be a secluded harbor, with nothing in sight on the shores of it save a few old huts, that appeared to be deserted.