"Enroll Captain Hampden's volunteers with the company," he said. "That will give him about sixty men. Now get down to the docks on the double quick. Remember that the first thing to be looked out for is the fire-hose. In times like this it carries the life-blood of the city. If any one tries to cut it, shoot him." And with this curt direction he waved us forward.
The rosy glow that illumined the southeastern sky had spread and deepened since we entered the hall. The ruddy light rose and fell in sudden tides, as the eddying-clouds of smoke reflected or obscured the fierce flames that leaped below them.
The sound of the fire-bell and the reddened sky had been a signal to other ears and eyes than those of the Vigilantes. Market Street was a hurrying stream of men and women and children, carried along by a common impulse, like wreckage on flood waters. Bands of young hoodlums rushed down the street with blackguardly cries, rudely jostling those who neglected to make way for them. A sibilant clamor of excited voices filled the air,--hoarse shouts of men, yells from the hoodlums and shrill chatter from the women and children, roused by the thrill of them.
At the corner of Beale and Harrison Streets we were halted by a densely packed mass of people striving vainly to press forward to a point from which they could get a closer view of the conflagration, now but a block away. The roar of flames could be heard above the volume of rattling sound that came from the massed confusion of firemen, rioters, Vigilantes and spectators. A ruddy glare illumined the great throng. Waves of heat reached us even at this distance, and farther down the street we could see men protecting their faces from the burning effulgence by holding their arms before their eyes. The great furnace sent up swift peaks of flame that fell as suddenly as they rose, and gave place to rolling clouds of smoke that turned the blaze to a dull red glow.
Before I could give the order to charge a passage through the crowd, a fire-engine dashed up with the clatter of galloping horses, the wild shouts of the firemen, the ringing of gongs and the cries of the frightened spectators. The throng pressed aside, and by some magic of contraction made a lane for the swift horses as they drew the engine up to the hydrant. At this moment the engine across Harrison Street, that had been whirring away with convulsive energy, gave vent to a splutter of steam, slowed down, and came to a stop. A fireman came running over to the newly arrived engine from its fellow across the street, scattering in his train an eruption of oaths that gave a verbal effect that was comparable to the shower of sparks from his engine.
"Look out for your hose!" he shouted wrathfully. "They've just cut ours again."
"Where's the police?" cried the captain of the new engine, as he gave orders to couple the hose to the hydrant.
"There's one policeman to the block, an' if he ain't dead he ought to be," returned the wrathful engineer. "They was talking about what the Vigilantes was a-goin' to do, but I ain't seen none of 'em. I reckon they's a-holdin' a promenade concert up to Horticultural Hall, and ain't got time to come down here. If you want your hoodlums knocked out, you'll have to do it yourself." And running back to his engine he suited action to word by seizing a stick and clearing a space about it with fierce flourishes and fiercer words.
"Here are your Vigilantes," I shouted. "Now lay your lines of hose side by side, and I'll see that there's no more cutting."
"Well, clear the track for us then!" cried the captain with a volley of excited oaths. "Can't you see that my men are blocked there?"