The Moving Picture Boys and the Flood/Chapter 15
CHAPTER XV
A HAPPY MEETING
Fanned by a strong wind, the flames gamed headway rapidly, and soon both houses were wrapped in fire, while over them hung a black pall of smoke. The dwellings were close together, and it seemed likely that more would catch, as there was no possibility of using the fire engines, if so small a town possessed them.
For the streets of the village were three feet or more under water, and the curious sight was presented of houses surrounded by a flood being destroyed by fire.
"The stoves must have upset, or something like that, to cause the fire!" cried Blake, as the motor boat was steered toward the blazing dwellings.
"They're beginning the work of rescue now," called Mr. Ringold. "See, they're coming in boats."
A number of small craft, containing several men, who had evidently been engaged in either rescue or salvage work, in another part of the town, came rowing along the inundated streets toward the scene of the fire.
"Look!" shouted C. C. "Someone just jumped from one of the windows then! And there goes another!"
They all looked in time to see a body plunge downward into the water, and one of the boats swerved toward it. Those aboard the Clytie saw, a moment later, a woman pulled from the flood, and taken into the small boat.
At the same moment another body shot from a window of the first burning house, and this person, too, was rescued.
"After all, the water is a good thing," remarked Blake, as he hastily oiled the motor. "They couldn't jump on the hard ground, but the flood saves them, even if it does destroy their houses."
"They are certainly having their own troubles," observed Joe.
"We'll help them all we can!" cried the manager. "Get out some of the life preservers, boys, and the cork rings. It may be that we shall need them."
They had provided themselves with these appliances before starting off on their trip, and Blake and Joe now took them from the lockers and laid them where they could be gotten at instantly.
"I saw a fire once," remarked little Charlie, who was an interested observer of the fearsome scene.
"Did you?" asked C. C., who had taken a great liking to the small chap. "Where?"
"Our barn burned up," the child went on, "but pa, he got our horse out, and the cow."
"He must have lived on a farm," said the actor to the boys, "and yet that upside-down house we took him from didn't look like a farm dwelling. It was more like a city place."
"He may have lived on a farm when he was younger," observed Blake. "I wonder if we'll ever find his folks?"
No one answered him, for they were all intent on watching the fire. Five houses were now ablaze, and people were jumping from all of them, so that the men in the boats had all they could do to make the rescues. Farther along the row of dwellings, persons were preparing to leave, for it was evident that nothing could save their homes except a change of wind.
But boats were needed to enable them to get safely away, and it seemed there were not enough craft. True, the water was not more than three to six feet deep, and a man, or even some strong women swimmers, might have gotten along safely, but frail ones, and the children, could not.
"We'll have plenty of chance to help!" cried Blake, as they came nearer the scene.
Their approach was welcomed with cheers by those in peril.
"Hurray for the motor boat!" yelled one enthusiastic lad—enthusiastic even in peril. His house was three or four dwellings removed from those already burning.
"We'll take you off!" shouted Joe.
"That's the way!" cried one of the men in the small boats. "Just run 'em over to the high ground, and come back for more. We will have to put up tents to house 'em, I guess."
The Clytie was steered close to a burning house, and the anxious eyes of those aboard her sought for signs of life. There were no persons at the windows, however, and they were about to pass on to the next, the roof of which was just beginning to blaze, from the sparks falling on it, when Joe cried:
"There's someone!"
"A little girl!" added Blake, as he saw the figure of a child at an upper window.
"Jump!" called Mr. Ringold, while he reversed the propeller, to hold back the boat against the force of the current. "Jump, little girl!"
"I—I'm afraid!" she sobbed.
"We'll save you!" added Mr. Piper, holding out his arms encouragingly. "Jump, the water won't hurt you."
"I must get a picture of this," murmured Blake. "There are enough others to aid in the rescue work, and I'll leave the camera, and help, the minute I'm needed."
"Yes, it's too good a chance to miss," agreed Joe.
And, while the child hesitated at the window, the flames increased. Blake got the moving picture camera into action.
"Come! You must jump!" called Mr. Ringold.
The child hesitated a moment longer, and then, as a backward look into the house showed her the raging fire coming nearer, she burst into tears, and climbed out on the window sill. Waiting there a moment she let herself drop, feet foremost, into the flood.
"Watch her!" cried Mr. Ringold, as he remained at the wheel.
The child disappeared beneath the surface of the mudder water.
"I've got her!" yelled Mr. Piper, as she bobbed up a moment later, and he hauled her aboard.
"Now you're all right, little one," he said, soothingly, as he cuddled her in his arms. "We'll take care of you."
"We'll have to get out of here," shouted the manager. "It is getting too hot!"
They had drifted in close to a burning house—so close, in fact, that blazing brands fell on the deck of the boat. But they were quickly extinguished by Joe. Blake continued to grind away at the camera, getting a series of remarkable pictures of the burning houses in the flood.
The small boats, having taken their loads of refugees to safety, returned to continue the work, and the Clytie was steered on down the row of houses to where others were waiting to be saved.
Dwelling after dwelling was emptied of its occupants, and soon the motor boat was laden to the limit of safety.
"We'll take 'em to high ground, and come back!" said the manager, as he turned the bow of the craft up a side street, that led to the hills back of the town.
They went in as near shore as was safe, and then those whom our friends had saved were taken off on an improvised raft, and cared for by volunteers who had hastily organized to help in this time of stress and trouble.
"The fire will soon burn itself out," remarked Blake, as they went back to it again. "I'll get all the pictures I can, though."
There were only a few more houses left in the row that had started to burn, and when the last of these was gone there was a wide space which would preclude the possibility of more being devoured by the flames—at least until another blaze started.
There was nothing that could be done to check the conflagration. In fact, as the boys learned later, the town was without fire protection, save a volunteer company, with a hand engine, and this was, of course, useless in the flood.
Proceeding to a house at a point below which the small boats were engaged in rescue work, those aboard the Clytie saved a number of women and children. These were taken to a place of safety, and another trip back made.
"There goes the last house!" cried Blake, as, the final one in the row caught.
"Yes, and there's a woman signaling to us!" added Joe.
"Two of 'em!" yelled Mr. Piper, as he caught sight of two forms at a third-story window. This house was all aflame on one side, from the water's edge to the roof, but it had not yet kindled on the side where the women appeared. They had made their way to the top floor, perhaps on account of fire being below them.
"Jump!" yelled Blake, as he put aside his camera, for the reel of film had run out, and he did not want to stop to thread in more.
"Yes, jump!" added Mr. Ringold. "We'll save you—it's your only chance!"
"I'm coming!" answered one woman, and she made a dive into some deep water an instant later, evidently being an accomplished swimmer. She came up near the motor boat, and was promptly taken in.
"Come on!" cried Mr. Ringold to the other woman.
She hesitated, and drew back, evidently being in great fear, and she seemed to be saying something, for her lips could be seen to move.
"You must jump!" the manager shouted, as he slowly backed the boat to keep her as nearly as possible in a favorable position for picking up the woman when she dived.
She gave a backward look into the house, and what she saw must have caused her to make up her mind, for she prepared to leap into the flood below her.
The one who had been at the window with her, having gotten her breath after her leap, added her entreaties to those aboard the Clytie.
"Jump, Mary! Jump!" she begged. "It's your only chance!"
The woman at the window hesitated no longer. She tumbled, rather than dived, into the water, but the rescuers were on the alert, and though the woman came up some little distance from the craft, Blake, with a boathook, caught her dress, and pulled her close enough so that Mr. Piper could haul her aboard. Then the Clytie was put in motion, for the house was burning fast, and her position was anything but safe.
For a few moments after her rescue, the second woman thus saved was hysterical. But her companion attended her, and soon she was more like herself.
"You'll be all right in a little while," said Mr, Piper. "We'll take you to high ground, and the good women there will look after you."
"Oh, what a terrible time it has been—fire and flood!" murmured the one called Mary.
"It certainly has been, but the Lord is good to us—he sent these kind men and boys to save us," the other added, as she looked at Blake and Joe.
"If only He would give me back my little boy," sobbed the second woman saved. "But oh, the flood has taken him!"
She sobbed on her companion's shoulder.
"There, there," soothed the other, "you may find him some day. Don't take on so, Mary."
"I can't help it, Ellen. Oh, my poor boy!"
It was evident that she was referring to some previous loss. Charlie, who had been in the darkened cabin, started suddenly as he heard the voice of the woman called Mary. He now came out on the open deck, and stared curiously at her. And the woman, who was supporting the head of the other on her shoulder, looked at Charlie.
A change came over her face. She tried to speak but could not. Finally she did manage to gasp:
"Mary! Look! Look! Here's Charlie now! Here's your boy!"
The woman raised her tear-stained face. For a moment she did not comprehend, and then, as a look of great joy showed itself in her eyes, she held out her arms, crying:
"My boy! My boy! Charlie! Is it possible!"
And as for the little lad, with one glad cry, he threw himself into her loving clasp, sobbing over and over again:
"Mamma! Mamma! Oh, I am so glad!"