As a little yeast leavens much flour so does the presence of a few

stout-hearted men give strength and courage to a multitude. Although

the rumor soon went the rounds that the giant wave which pooped the

ship had carried away two of her six boats, there were no visible signs

of flurry in the measures taken to equip the remaining boats for use.

The men had confidence in their officers; every one worked smoothly and

well.

All told, there were eighty persons on board when the Kansas left

Valparaiso. Of these, seventeen, including the officers, were of

European birth or lineage. The remaining sixty-three were men of mixed

Advertisement..

nationalities, ranging from Spanish-speaking Chileans to negroes.

There were eight under-stewards, a cook and his assistants, and nearly

fifty sailors and firemen. Unfortunately, the explosion in the

stokehold had killed the chief engineer and one of his juniors, while

six stokers were dead and several injured.

It was discovered that, before he died, the chief had shut off steam,

and thus prevented the accident from assuming far more serious

proportions. The second engineer, a Newcastle man named Walker, who

rushed to the engine-room at the first indication of a mishap, found

his chief lying in collapse on the lever platform. Walker promptly

opened certain levers which allowed the steam to escape freely; then he

carried his comrade out of the spume to the deck. It was too late.

Partial suffocation had placed too great a strain on a diseased heart;

by the time Dr. Christobal was summoned, a brave man was dead.

Courtenay, who had left instructions that he was to be called when the

Evangelistas light was sighted, was sound asleep. In the elevated

quarters assigned to the captain, the noise of the explosion differed

little from the thunderous blows of the sea. But the stopping of the

engines awoke him instantly. He felt the ship lurch away from her

course, and saw the quick swerve of the compass indicator over his

head. As he ran down the gangway leading from the bridge he heard the

officer of the watch say: "Something given way in the engine-room, sir."

Several minutes elapsed before he, or Walker, aided by willing

volunteers, could penetrate the depths of the stoke-hold. The place

was a charnel-house, a stifling pit, filled with the charred contents

of the furnaces, which gave off the most noisome fumes owing to the

rapid condensation of steam and water escaping from the damaged pipes.

But the gale raging without served one good purpose in driving plenty

of air down the ventilating cowls. Gradually, the choking atmosphere

cleared. Courtenay was the first to reach the lowermost rung of the

iron ladder, whence he looked with the eyes of despair on a scene of

death and ruin.

The electric light was uninjured. It revealed the bodies of several

men, either dead or insensible, lying amidst the scattered coal.

Shovels, stoking-rods, and pieces of iron plate had been hurled about

in wild confusion. The door of one furnace was blown clean out of its

bolts; furnace bars and fire-bricks strewed the iron deck, while, each

time the ship rolled, the heavy clank of loose metal somewhere in the

engine-room proved that the damage was not confined solely to the

stoke-hold.