And in a few minutes he died in their arms.
The two poor lads sobbed as though their hearts would break and asked me whatever could they do with Charlie. Poor fellows, it was a bitter lesson they were learning. Their position was indeed a sad one, but there were kind, tender hearts, and willing hands ready to help them in Lima.
As soon as we arrived there, the railway staff placed the body in the carpenter’s shop, and after the doctor had certified the cause of death, a coffin was made for it, then the railway authorities arranged for the burial at the English cemetery. The two others were looked after by the station-master himself until after the funeral and then he got them a berth in a ship bound for Liverpool, and in a few days they left the land that had brought them such bitter sorrow and pain.
CHAPTER XVI
I go Back to the Sea Again
The day after my arrival at Lima, I was taken ill with the Oroya fever, which must have been on me before I left the camp. I was taken to the General Hospital and although I was as strong and healthy as a young giant before, it was three months ere I was able to resume work of any description. However, on my discharge, although still as weak as a cat, a friend got me a berth as mess-room steward on the s.s. “Chiloc,” one of the Pacific Company’s coast boats, and right glad I was to feel myself once more on the water. We made a trip from Callao to Panama, and another to Coquimbo, with its steep streets and big mountains behind. Coquimbo is the centre of a great copper mining industry, and some of the largest fortunes of Chili have been drawn from the copper-smelting works. Full of curiosity, I went ashore and wandered about for a few hours. I saw the Plaza, with its green oasis, fringed with pepper trees. The doors of the cathedral opposite were open, and the sound of music drew me to the open door, and one of the prettiest sights I have ever seen met my eyes. The altars were ablaze with lighted candles, and the church was decorated with the colours of the Blessed Virgin Mother, blue and white, for it was her month, and every evening from the 8th of November to the 8th of December, these services are held. From my post at the door I could see that the floor of the church was crowded with black-robed women, whilst the treble of childish voices chanted a sweet-toned litany, the refrain of the “Ave Maria” echoing again and again, floated out on the still night air, dying away into silence, like the sound of the summer sea on some palm-fringed shore, the beauty and solemnity of it lingered in my heart for many days.
On our return to Callao, the vessel was put under a temporary overhaul previous to going to England for new survey and new boilers. She had been running on the coast of Peru, Bolivia and Chili for the last ten years, and greatly needed a thorough overhauling. The chief engineer, Mr. Jones, was very kind to me, especially when I first joined the ship, so weak had the fever left me that, but for his kindness and care, I must have broken down again.
We left Callao and called at various ports on the coast, staying at Valparaiso a week doing some repairs to the engine. One night I went ashore in the boat to bring the steward on board. It was about eleven p.m., and as I sat waiting in the boat I thought what a close, hot, heavy night it was. Just in front of where the boat lay there were several low class drinking saloons, and the places were crowded with dancers, the musicians playing for all they were worth. All seemed to be enjoying themselves to the utmost in their own fashion. To the right of the boat landing, a road led up the cliffs that fronted the harbour. Right on the top of the cliffs there stood three famous drinking saloons, well known among South American traders as the “Fore,” “Main,” and “Mizzen Tops,” low, rough, disreputable places, the resort of crimps, the vilest of women and thieves, and many a sailor was drugged, then robbed and shanghaied from these dens of evil.
Just as the clock in the Grand Plaza struck eleven, and I was wondering how anybody could dance on that hot night, also how much longer I should have to wait, the boat gave a surge forward, the next moment a low, rumbling noise was heard, and then a sharp shock of earthquake. At once the streets and every open space were filled with the people crying, shouting, and praying, calling on Santa Maria, and all the other Chilian saints, whose names are legion, for mercy and pity.
About three minutes afterwards there was another shock, more severe than the first, which caused a large slice of the cliff to fall down into the waters of the bay, and bringing down with it the three drinking saloons already mentioned. Owing to the first shock most of the dancers and drinkers were out in the streets and open spaces, but a number of decoy girls, and the proprietors of the saloons were buried beneath the ruins.