“Well, he says he will relay our call, anyway,” said the other. “Amateur or not, he seems to be on the job and doing the best he can for us. And Heaven knows we need all the help we can get, because we’re in a bad way.”
The Horolusa was indeed in sore straits. Her bow had settled low in the water and the big waves broke over it continually. The crew had made several attempts to launch the lifeboats, but the vessel was rolling so badly that they were smashed to splinters against her sides before they could reach the water. The wind howled wildly around the superstructure and in the rigging, and it was also raining heavily, soaking the shivering passengers to the skin as they stood huddled about the decks. Life preservers had been handed about and nearly everybody wore one of these.
High up in the wireless cabin the two operators could hear the call for help flashing out loud and clear from the powerful land station as it was repeated over and over by the unknown sender there. Little did Bob’s father and mother suspect that their son was aware of their peril and was trying desperately to save their lives and those of the hundreds of other passengers on the big ship.
At last, after what seemed an interminable time to the anxious wireless men, they heard an answering call from some ship laboring through the black and stormy night, and a little while later they heard still another ship promise to go to their assistance.
“Glory be!” they exclaimed, in unison. “I hope they’re not far away,” said one. “I’m afraid the old Horolusa has taken her last voyage. If the forward bulkhead gives way, she’ll go down like a shot.”
“They can’t make much speed in a sea like this, either,” said the other anxiously. “But I see the YS station has stopped sending. I guess he must have heard those boats promise to come to our help. And they sure can’t get here a bit too soon.”
The Horolusa was indeed in a desperate condition. Below decks the engineer force was laboring mightily to brace the forward bulkhead so that it would stand against the tremendous pressure of the water without. The bulkhead was sagging inward, and even as the men labored they could see flakes of paint come off the iron as it bent inward. It took the highest kind of courage to work in the face of such peril, because they knew if the bulkhead once gave way they would be drowned under tons of water without any chance whatever to escape. They braced big timbers against the frail wall that meant the only barrier between them and instant death.
“I guess that’s about all we can do, men,” said the chief engineer at length. “I’ll call for a few volunteers to stay below and keep the pumps running, and the rest of you had better get up on deck. She’s likely to go at any minute.”
A few hardy souls volunteered, and the rest swarmed up the long iron ladders, thankful to get away from the awful menace of that bulging bulkhead. Arrived on deck, they found conditions there little better than those they had just left below. Several of the lifeboats had been wrecked by big seas, and the remainder had been stove in when the crew attempted to lower them down the side.
Dr. Dale’s little party kept together, and they all did the best they could to encourage each other. The passengers had been informed that two vessels were coming to their assistance, but even to the inexperienced eye of a landsman it was evident that the Horolusa was settling steadily lower in the water. Big seas broke constantly over her bows and encroached further and further up the sloping decks as the passengers were driven steadily toward the stern. The ship’s officers passed about the decks, keeping order and doing the best they could to reassure the passengers. The captain had ordered rockets sent off from the bridge, and these soared aloft at intervals and cast a momentary light over the wild and endless succession of mountainous waves that seemed like a victorious army marching on a helpless city.