The captain ordered the drum to beat to quarters, and soon the crew was assembled under good control. Fire buckets filled with water were standing on the quarterdeck. We ran for them and poured them over the flames. All hands emptied buckets on the flames until the fire had been quenched.
If the fire had occurred a few hours later, when we were asleep, it might have gathered enough headway to sweep the ship. We learned later that a lighted candle had fallen from a beam on the deck below and had set fire to some cloths. The steward had tried to smother the fire with sheets, but all the cloths had then caught fire. We did not fully realize our danger until it was pointed out to us that the room in which the fire had started was next to the powder magazine, and that the bulkhead between the two compartments had been scorched.
When decks were cleared for action, you may well believe that my heart was in my mouth. The ship's company was running here and there as busy as ants—and apparently as confused. The boatswain and his mates saw to the rigging and sails. The carpenter and his crew prepared shot-plugs and mauls and strove to protect the pumps against injury; the lieutenants went from deck to deck, supervising the work. The boys who were the powder monkeys rushed up and down at their tasks of providing the first rounds for the guns; pistols and cutlasses were distributed. Rammers, sponges, powderhorns, matches and train tackles were placed beside every cannon. The hatches were closed, so that no man might desert his post and hide below. The gun lashings were cast adrift. The marines were drawn up in rank and file. These occupations, fortunately, left us little time to think of home and loved ones, and by the time the decks were cleared, why, the cannon were thundering and the missiles were striking about us.
Bathing and boat racing were popular sports with us; yet, in the case of the first pastime, we had to be very careful on account of blue sharks.
It was a matter for wonderment with us that, while the blue shark has been known time and again to attack white men, he seldom bothered a colored person. We had sailors aboard who had sailed in Oriental waters, where there are thousands of sharks. These men agreed in their story that the natives could swim and dive without fear of them, but if a white man ventured to bathe in the same place the sharks would be after him in a short time. We learned from these yarn-spinners that the pearl-divers of Ceylon stay down under water for several minutes at a time while they gather into bags the shells that contain pearls, and yet are seldom attacked by sharks. This may have been, though, because while they were under water their comrades above shouted and sang to scare the sharks away. Sometimes natives whose skins were of a light color would dye their bodies black, while other divers would carry in their girdles spikes made of ironwood, which they used to poke out the eyes of sharks that came near.
These stories about sharks were enough to make us enter the water warily, and to borrow the custom of the pearl divers in making a loud noise when we bathed. An experience was awaiting us, however, that brought our danger home to us more than all the warnings that could be uttered.
Jim Hodges, perhaps the most expert swimmer among us, was fond of boasting that he could outswim a shark. One day, when there was a calm sea, he started to swim from the side of our vessel to another frigate that was anchored close by. We who were on duty watched, over the ship's side, his progress. Suddenly a gray fin showed above the turquoise water, about one hundred yards from him, but moving rapidly in his direction. We shouted and pointed in the direction of his danger. He heard us, realized his peril, and turned instantly towards our ship. The shark at once changed its direction so that the swimmer and the fish seemed to be following two sides of a triangle that would meet at the apex—this point being the bow of our vessel. We watched in breathless suspense while Hodges moved towards us, swimming with amazing coolness and nerve. The shark gained steadily. We had lowered a rope at the point nearest to the swimmer, and we could see him measuring the distance with an anxious look. Those of us who managed to obtain firearms began to shoot at the shark, but at last it had drawn so near to the swimmer that there was danger of hitting him with our bullets. We ceased firing and waited. At last Hodges, with a desperate spurt, reached the rope. As soon as we felt his tug at it we began hauling him in. If he had seized the rope a second later, it would have been too late. The teeth of the shark flashed in the swirl at the end of the rope. If Hodges had not lifted his feet into the air, one of them would have been snapped off.