CHAPTER NINETEEN.
THE BURNING OF THE "ICEBEAR."
All hands worked steadily, willingly, and well. There was not a sound to be heard, except the roar of the flames, the tramping of feet, an occasional word of command, and the steady clank, clank of the little pumping engine. No noise, no bustle, no confusion on board the burning ship.
The flames had soon gained mastery over the captain"s cabin, and over the wardroom as well, for the fire seemed to spread on both sides.
Claude was walking slowly up and down the deck, "twixt main and foremast, quietly superintending everything. That he was here, and here only, showed the perfect confidence he had in his men and officers to carry out the terrible duties now imposed upon them.
Smoke and flames were pouring up through the companions aft, and it was evident that that portion of the ship was doomed.
Claude was hoping against hope. Were the cabin and wardroom only destroyed and the fire here checked, the hull and the fore-part of the ship would be but little injured, and the voyage home be, after all, made in safety.
The greatest danger of all rested in the fact that the magazine, containing a very considerable quant.i.ty of gunpowder and gun-cotton, lay close to--almost _in_--the seat of fire, and so quickly had the flames spread that it had been found impossible to remove the stores without the almost certainty of exploding the whole.
So among the first orders given was for a volunteer to carry the end of the hose along the lower deck and flood the magazine.
Boy Bounce was the first to spring forward.
"Can we trust him, Mr Lloyd?"
"Certainly, sir."
"And I"m so small, you know; I can walk where a big "un would "ave to creep, sir."
The boy seemed a long time gone, but he crawled back at last, and fell senseless at Lloyd"s feet. He was badly burned about the hands and even face, but as soon as he came to himself he went on working with the rest.
Hours flew by, one, two, three; still the fire raged; still the men worked steadily on.
All seemed going well, when suddenly the wind shifted, and almost at the same time the smoke and flames came roaring forward, and one mast caught fire. The crew were driven from the pumps, and for the first time something like a panic spread fore and aft.
It was evident now that the ship could not be saved. All further attempts at pumping were abandoned, and all hands set to work to remove stores.
Unfortunately, two of the boats that hung on davits aft were lost, so that only two remained.
One of these boats was commanded by McDonald, the other by Dr Barrett, Claude and Lloyd determining to remain on board till the bitter end.
How bitter that end was to be no one could have guessed.
All the stores that could, with apparent safety, be got out were landed; the boats were returning to the ship. Claude had calculated that hours must elapse before the vessel blew up, or that she might sink without an explosion.
Orders had just been issued for the men to stand by to embark in the boats with regularity and quietness, when suddenly the after-part of the ship was blown up with fearful violence; masts, spars, deck, rigging, and bulwarks flew skywards, in a fountain of crimson flame.
The sea was covered with the wreckage, and the _Icebear_ began rapidly to sink stern foremost.
"Give way, men," shouted Dr Barrett. "Give way with a will to the rescue."
Let the curtain drop over the terrible scene. Suffice it to say that everything that man can do, or heroes accomplish, was done and dared by those in the boats to save their friends and messmates from drowning, and from worse--from being devoured by sharks; but out of all that crew of men, who, only a few short hours before, had been peacefully slumbering, and dreaming, perchance, of home and happiness, only thirty answered to their names that morning in the sh.o.r.e-house.
Some of these, too, were badly wounded, and nearly all exhausted.
Poor Lloyd was among the drowned, so was Warren, the second mate, and both Pipes and Chips had gone to their account.
Big Byarnie had been sent ash.o.r.e with one of the first boats. He was a giant to work, and did about three men"s duty in unloading. He had taken the sea-birds with him.
Fingal had, dog-like, stayed with his master, and swam all the way to the sh.o.r.e with him after the explosion. Boy Bounce came floating on sh.o.r.e stride-legs on a spar, propelling himself with half an oar, which he had managed to pick up somehow or other.
There was so much life and enthusiasm about Paddy O"Connell, that it is almost needless to say he got ash.o.r.e.
"Somehow," said Paddy; but how, he couldn"t remember at all.
A great fire was made in the sh.o.r.e-house, and the men who had been taken out of the water rendered as comfortable as circ.u.mstances would permit.
When breakfast had been served and discussed--there was no ceremony now, no distinction between officers and men, those poor mariners in their terrible plight having formed themselves into a little republic--Claude and Dr Barrett went out together.
They walked for a time in silence up and down the beach, Claude hardly daring to cast a glance seawards where the wreckage still was floating.
The doctor was the first to speak.
"This is a sad ending to all our hopes," he said slowly.
"I cannot as yet realise it," replied Claude. "My poor men! my poor men!"
There were tears in his eyes as he spoke, tears of which he had no reason to be ashamed.
Dr Barrett pressed his hand.
"I am older than you," he said; "let me beseech you not to repine. It is almost cheering for me to think that the bitterness of death is past for those dear brave hearts who, remember, Captain Alwyn, died doing their duty n.o.bly and manfully."
"True, true, Dr Barrett; theirs must be a merciful judgment: but the drunken brute who caused this terrible accident!"
"Stay, sir, stay; he too is in G.o.d"s hand. We cannot, dare not, set bounds or limits to His mercy. Let us turn our thoughts to Him, then,"
continued the doctor. "We have to submit to whatever is before us. We _must_ pray, "Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.""
"Yes," replied Claude, "but that portion of the beautiful prayer our Saviour taught has always seemed to me more difficult than any other to utter from the heart while in grief or expecting grief."
"I know it, Captain Claude Alwyn, I know it. There are few kinds of grief in this world I have not tasted the bitterness of. But come," he went on, "you and I are still the chiefs of this expedition. Let us, even now, bravely face the situation. Let us see how we stand."
"We are imprisoned in a living grave."
"Not quite so bad as that, my friend."
"Well, Dr Barrett, what do you propose?"
"Shortly this. We have still stores on sh.o.r.e here, but we must supplement them Despatch one boat at once; if she returns before the snow falls, well and good. Send her back for a further supply; if the snow falls ere she returns, do not wait, but despatch the sledges across country. As we are about one hundred miles south of the inlet, the sledges will take the short cut, and reach the cave stores in shorter time than the boat can."
"Good. I will lose no time, and as soon as our poor fellows are buried--"