Finding that the raging element had obtained possession of the after-part of the vessel, the boats were carefully lowered, and the ladies, women, and children placed in them. An officer of the ship was despatched in command of the boats, with orders to keep them at a distance—so that, if the vessel blew up, those in the boats would be uninjured.
In the meanwhile, the most daring spirits on board, regardless of the suffocating smoke and the scorching flames, boldly approached the powder, and dragged it up through the raging element, package after package, to be cast into the sea. Blackened and speechless, these brave men were dragged up from the hold of the vessel by the ropes which they had secured round their bodies before descending—although insensible from the heat, still holding in their grasp the kegs of powder. These were succeeded by others as daring, who, on being dragged on deck, were again relieved by their predecessors, whose recovery was effected by dashing water over them. While this fearful struggle of the most daring valour with death was taking place, the hose were playing upon the raging fire, and rafts were being constructed on each side of the ship, for the purpose of saving at least a portion of the apparently doomed band.
The ship was built of iron, and fortunately in compartments. The fire had arisen in the after-compartment, and the most incredible exertions were made to confine it there. The decks were ripped up and sawed across to prevent the fire spreading; further forward, across the deck, partitions were formed of wet blankets, which, being deluged with water, prevented the fire spreading. At last the fire, in spite of superhuman efforts, obtained the upper hand; the flames soared high into the heavens, and as they overcame all human efforts, the cry of anguish might be heard from the passive spectators in the boats. Imploring voices asked for the boats to approach the burning ship, in the hope of saving some loved ones among that doomed band; but the young officer in command, even in that trying hour, obeyed the orders which he had received from his chief, and kept the boats at a safe distance.
At last those grown reckless by their former success in obtaining the coveted kegs of powder had to be held forcibly back from flinging themselves into the flames, in the hope of obtaining the few remaining kegs, and thereby saving the ship from the impending destruction. In this noble rivalry a quarter-master belonging to the crew, and a sergeant of the regiment embarked, were the most conspicuous.
Some portion of the powder yet remained in the after-compartment, and over it the flames enjoyed their dance of death; high up they soared, licking the top-mast shrouds, and encircling the mizen-mast with ropes of fire.
The boom, the gaff, the deck, all had disappeared, and ever and anon, as the ship rolled from side to side, and the flames leaped to starboard or to port, the iron beams which had formerly supported the decks were seen of a fiery red, forming an awful lattice-work, through which the burning element raged with its fearful roar. At last the beams began to bend with their own weight, and the pressure of the sea on the sides of the vessel. The rafts were rapidly building; but moments were felt by all as days. Meanwhile the smoke rose dark and lowering into the heavens, making the sky even look fiery, and forming a beacon far and near on the Indian Ocean. From the foremast head the horizon was anxiously scanned, but no telescope on board could bring to the eye the promised “sail of hope.”
The awful hour was fast approaching when life or death would be pronounced for those on board that ship. The powder pent up in that fiery cavern must soon ignite, and, bursting through the ship’s sides, let in the sea either to save or engulph them.
At last the moment came—the explosion took place—and hearts which never quailed before for an instant ceased to beat.
The mighty ship reeled and staggered like a drunken man; the waves surged high and rushed upon her; the raging fire yelled and hissed, and roared again. Then all was still—a cloud of steam marking where the fire had been. That awful silence was broken by the captain’s voice exclaiming:—“Thanks be to God, she’s saved!” But, before the fervent “Amens” had reached him, again was heard his resolute tone of command to “man the pumps!”