“I wonder will they ever get her off!” exclaimed Arthur. “She looks as if she was built on to the bottom.”
“Say, Ken, look!” It was Frank who grabbed Ransom’s arm and pointed to the great ship’s counter. “Isn’t she moving now?”
She certainly was. The freighter’s stern was swinging round; slowly at first, but gaining in speed every moment. The tug was going ahead, and the iron sides were closing down on the little yacht irresistibly. It was a horrible trap which the tug, by reason of the long tow-line, had escaped. The boys realized their danger, and shouted to the captain of the tug. He immediately rang for full speed ahead. It was a grim race to escape destruction.
Faster the tug churned on, but nearer and nearer came that terrible iron wall, until it bumped against the yawl’s white sides. Both yacht and freighter were edged in to the spiles of the bulkhead until there was but three feet of open water between. Men on the freighter, ashore, and on nearby vessels saw the danger. They shouted words of encouragement and warning; but even as they did it, they knew that it was of no avail. Nearer and nearer the fearful iron wall approached, inexorably. The boys saw that the boat was doomed to certain destruction, and perhaps death lay in wait for them, but they could do nothing.
They were being drawn into the very jaws of the trap, and the crew looked at the smooth sides of the freighter for a foothold or a hanging rope that they might cling to, and then to the slimy bulkhead. Each had picked out a place for himself to spring for when the time should come. Suddenly the movement of the great ship’s stern stopped. She quivered a moment and was still. She had grounded just in time, and the “Gazelle” slipped through with not three feet to spare.
The shout that went up from the onlookers was like the sudden escape of long pent-up steam—it was a glad cry of relief, and the boys echoed it in spirit, but could do nothing but wave their caps in answer.
It had been a narrow escape, and the crew of the “Gazelle” were thankful enough to come out of it alive. To the shouts of the onlookers, however, they waved their caps airily, as if it was an everyday matter to escape from the jaws of death.
After this all went well. The tug and its light tow made such good time that the entrance lock to the Illinois and Michigan Canal was reached by nine o’clock. All hands turned in except Ransom, who was to take the first four-hour watch. But, from time to time during the night, various members of the crew waked with a feeling that there was a house crushing them. Whether this was caused by the experience with the ship, or the pancakes which Clyde constructed for supper, this chronicler does not pretend to state.
Early the following morning, the boys paid their canal fees, and passed through the lock.
“How long is this canal, Ken?” Frank asked, after they had tied up in the basin.