For the next half-hour the Bright Wing bounded along in a spanking breeze, and every boy on board felt the new exhilaration and life of the wind and motion. It did not take them long to get into port, and they dropped anchor in Marblehead harbor at about a quarter of four. The boys were all at their places for lowering the sails; but, once lowered, they were ordered to make them only temporarily secure with the stops, without careful furling, in view of the Chairman’s haste to get ashore and on to the scene of the fire as quickly as possible. It was decided to leave one of the four sections on board to finish the furling and make all fast, and then to follow the rest of the company; these got into the boats as soon as they could be lowered, and headed for the nearest wharf.
Dick appeared to have got over his grouch during the day, and his section was the first to leave the ship.
CHAPTER VIII
The Salem Fire
As soon as the main party arrived at the landing they inquired eagerly where the fire was, and learned very soon that it was in Salem, and had started in the northwestern section of the city.
Marblehead lies about southeast from Salem, and the wind was blowing from west to east, veering to northwest,—so that the fumes of smoke, driven by blasts of heated air, kept pouring over the houses of the little old-fashioned town, making the atmosphere decidedly disagreeable in the streets below.
Mr. Miller was in command of the company; and, after a brief consultation between himself, Mr. Wentworth, and the boatswain’s mates, it was decided to separate into divisions, to march within easy call of one another toward Salem, and to reach, if possible, the headquarters of the Salem Fraternity or Boys’ Club. Here, they felt, they would be sure to find other boys with their leaders who could give them all the information they required and plenty of work to do.
The distance to Salem was about four miles; and, during the second half of their walk, the smoke became thicker and hotter. Here and there burning embers, carried by the wind, fell along the road and on the roofs of adjoining houses. All along the streets people were hurrying from one place to another in more or less excitement; and, on the housetops, groups were busy wetting down their roofs and putting out burning cinders. A little later they came upon piles of furniture on the sidewalks, and furniture vans carrying the household possessions of families to places of safety. The activity increased as they entered the city proper. As they walked northward, the wind and smoke came from a direction on their left; and, as they advanced nearer to the heart of the fire, they could see the flames springing out of the wreckage below, spreading from one house to another under the influence of the wind; could hear the crash of falling buildings, and watch great showers of sparks and burning material being carried along by the gusts of air.
Presently they found themselves surrounded by a crowd of people, and the order was passed along to each division to walk in Indian file. Tom Sheffield was the last boy in the line and suddenly his attention was attracted by a knot of people that had gathered quickly around some one who was lying in the street. This had happened after the other scouts had got well ahead of him, so that he was the only one who had noticed the occurrence. He ran quickly up to the spot and saw a woman lying in the midst of the group with broken pieces of crockery all around her and a large spot of blood on the left sleeve of her white shirt waist. Her eyes were closed, and her face was pale. An elderly woman held her head on her lap but was evidently frightened and did not know what to do. A little child in the crowd was crying excitedly, and at the same time a man called out, “Get a doctor, somebody,—she’s bleeding to death!”
Tom then quickly ripped up her sleeve with his knife and laid the wound bare. He saw at once from the pulsations and color of the blood that an artery had been severed. He then felt in his pocket for his first-aid kit but found that he had left it behind. Quickly he whipped out his pocket handkerchief and folded it over to serve as a bandage, tying it tightly above the wound. He then exerted even more pressure by inserting a lead pencil and twisting the bandage around. When the crowd noticed that the blood had stopped flowing, there were exclamations of surprise.
“Good for you, sonny,” called out the burly man.