Authors: Gilbert Morris
Julienne asked, “What happened, Darcy?”
He shrugged, “I don’t know, Jules. I was down there in the engine room. I heard what you heard. We threw some rod, and it got everything out of whack.”
“Do you have any idea how long it’s going to take Rev to fix it?” she asked anxiously.
“Not a clue. But I know this: Rev’s probably one of the best engineers on the river, and Dallas Bronte is almost as good. Between the two of them, they’ll get it fixed as soon as is humanly possible.”
“Dallas? An engineer? I didn’t know that.”
“He doesn’t talk about it much. Rev told me, that’s the only way I know. I guess Dallas likes piloting so much that he’d hate to be an engineer. But Dallas Bronte is a real smart man, Jules. You did know that, didn’t you?”
“Oh, yes,” she said firmly. “I do know that.”
They decided not to go down to the engine room, because they knew they would only be in the way. They stood there together, silent and worrying. Then ahead they saw a faint glow and realized it was a light behind them. They looked back, and they saw the sky-high four-decker
Columbia Lady,
every light on the boat lit, speeding towards them. As they watched, she pulled close to the
River Queen
, much too close for safety. But apparently it was just so Lyle Dennison could step out of the pilothouse, stand on the hurricane deck, and shout to the
River Queen
a full two stories beneath him. “You be careful with her, Julienne! You’re never going to beat me now, so she’s my ship!”
“Idiot,” Darcy said with disgust. “No river man ever calls a steamer a ‘ship.’ It’s like telling someone that your horse is a moose. Two different things, and only morons don’t know the difference.”
“I wonder if he’s right, though,” Julienne said worriedly. “We’re about four hours out of Natchez, right?”
“Yeah, but don’t worry, Jules,” Darcy said confidently. “After all, we know that Rev is praying hard for that reach rod right now.”
It was about an hour before they could tell that the firemen were building up the steam again. A few minutes later Dallas came back into the wheelhouse. “Thank the Lord for Rev and his obsession with having an extra everything, right down to the last screw. We’re going to get the
Queen
back in the race right now.” The engines started up, with the old familiar rhythmic
chunk, chunk, chunk
sound.
Dallas took the wheel and said to Darcy, “I just told Jesse to give her everything she’s got, and when Rev’s ready he’s going to holler up at me.”
“Everything she’s got,” Darcy repeated. “What does that mean?”
“Cap the safety valve and use as little water as possible.”
Darcy asked hesitantly, “Yeah, that’s gonna give us speed, and quickly, but isn’t that how boilers blow up?”
“Sometimes,” Dallas answered tightly. “I’m praying, Rev’s praying, Jesse’s praying, Julienne, you pray. Might not be a bad time for you to start, Darcy.”
“Don’t think so,” he said in his old breezy voice. “I’m just going to go down and say ‘me, too’ to everything Rev says.” He walked out.
Dallas grinned. “He’s gonna pray. Thank the Lord, we’re rolling already!” The
River Queen
had started to move, and she was already picking up speed within the first few revolutions of her paddle wheel.
Julienne wondered how Dallas could smile. She was so deathly worried now that they would lose the race, and all of her old terrible fears came rushing back. “You know that the
Columbia Lady
passed us about an hour ago,” she said dispiritedly.
“Yeah, I know. Jesse went out on deck to see her, and he heard what Dennison yelled at you.” He couldn’t turn to look at her, but he hesitated a minute as if he were searching her face. “Julienne, you’re not scared, are you?”
“Yes, I am. Aren’t you?”
“No, I’m not scared. God isn’t the author of fear, He’s our Comforter. Just trust in Him, Julienne. Don’t trust in the
River Queen
, or Rev’s prayers, or even me. Just trust Him, and no matter what happens, you’re going to be blessed, because you’re a child of the King.”
JESSE WAS PILING ON the steam, even Julienne could tell. They seemed to be flying instead of steaming with a paddle wheel. The acrid smell from the rich pine invaded the pilothouse.
Once Ring called up and said, “Captain, the boilers are getting red. Jesse’s worried.”
“Tell Jesse I trust him. He knows those boilers like Rev knows that engine. Tell him to keep adding water, a little at a time. He’ll know how much and when.”
It was only thirty minutes after this that Dallas suddenly exclaimed, “Look, Julienne, there’s the
Columbia Lady
. We’ve got a chance.”
“How far to Natchez?”
“Just a couple of hours. I think we can beat her.” As they drew slowly nearer to the big steamer, Dallas grunted, “She’s making black smoke.”
“What does that mean?” Julienne asked.
“It means,” Dallas answered, “that they’re putting in rich pine just like we are. I’d bet that Dennison is capping his safety valve too.”
They followed her doggedly, and sometimes Julienne thought they were gaining on her, and sometimes she thought they were falling farther behind. The
River Queen
seemed to be straining, like a live thing. The heat from the boiler room was heating up even the pilothouse, two decks up. Ring’s gravelly voice sounded up the tube again. “Dallas, Jesse says this is it. She’s running hot as the nether regions.”
“Ask him can he keep it up for just about another hour,” Dallas ordered Julienne.
“Dallas wants another hour,” Julienne yelled, “and I do too. And so do you.”
“I think we’re both gonna blow our fool selfs up,” Ring said grumpily but faintly as he turned away from the speaking tube.
Julienne stared at the
Columbia Lady
so hard her eyes and temples started to hurt. Dallas, of course, kept his sharp gaze straight ahead always. Finally Julienne whispered, “We’re gaining on her, aren’t we, Dallas? We are, aren’t we?”
“Yeah, Julienne, we are. I really think that if Jesse and Rev can keep it up, we’ll nose in front of her before we get to Natchez,” he said firmly.
Just ahead was a sharp bend in the river, and when the
Columbia Lady
reached it she completely disappeared. Tensely they searched the darkness ahead.
In about two minutes they saw what seemed to be a white cloud rising from the water, immediately followed by a loud explosion that shook the
River Queen
.
“Oh, no, no,” Julienne said faintly.
“Her boilers burst for sure,” Dallas said grimly. He reached up and rang the big bell, pulling the cord hard, so the continual deep gongs sounded urgent.
Immediately Ring shouted up, “What is it, Dallas?”
Julienne answered, “The
Columbia Lady
’s boilers burst, Dallas is pretty sure. He says full steam ahead until you hear the backing bell, then pull her up hard. Get some fire buckets and the fire crew ready!”
Dallas guided the
Queen
around the bend, and Julienne gasped. The beautiful steamer’s nose was down, her pilothouse and the front half of her decks blown to splinters. She was on fire, and people were jumping overboard. Almost without thinking Julienne prayed,
Thank You, Lord, that it’s not wintertime.
She remembered the icy cold down to her bones in that water the night she and Dallas had wrecked.
Dallas rang the backing bell, and at once they felt the paddle wheels stop, then groaning, start turning in reverse to stop the
Queen
.
Dallas was busy maneuvering the wheel, so Julienne said, “I’m going on down to the main deck, Dallas.”
“Go on. Be careful. Send Darcy up here, I can swim better than him.”
“I will.” She ran down the stairs and found Darcy, already sitting down on the deck and taking off his boots. “Go up and take the wheel, Darcy. Dallas is a strong swimmer, he’ll be able to help more than you will.”
Rebellion crossed his face, but then he pulled his boot back on and ran up the stairs.
The next few hours were a nightmare. Some of the passengers and crew had been blown into the river, killed instantly by the explosion. Others were drowning in the water. Dallas, Rev, Jesse, and Ring jumped in again and again, dragging people to the
River Queen.
Julienne and Caesar and Libby worked on the deck, helping to bring them up, while Roseann, Leah, and Robbie, took them into the now-empty ballroom, laid them down, and covered them with whatever they could find: sheets, tablecloths, towels, stored canvas pieces, their own bedlinens.
Julienne looked up and saw that Lyle Dennison had swum to the
Queen
by himself, and Caesar and Libby were helping to haul him aboard. She had thought that Lyle had been killed, because the pilothouse was nothing but a burning pile of splintered wood. But then she realized that Lyle wouldn’t have stayed in the wheelhouse for long. He must have been in some other part of the boat. Julienne forgot all of her bitterness and anger toward him at that moment. She was glad he hadn’t been killed.
“I’m all right, I don’t need any help,” he was saying irritably to Caesar and Libby. “Unless you can find me a drink.”
“They’re passing out brandy in the ballroom,” Caesar said kindly.
Dallas, who was between dives to look for survivors, walked up to face him squarely.
Dennison stared at him, then muttered, “Well, you’ve won, Bronte.”
“Not the way I wanted to. I’m sorry you lost the
Columbia Lady
, Dennison. I truly am.”
“So am I. And the
River Queen
.
But regardless of how it happened, you beat me, Bronte. And I can take my beatings like a man.” He stuck out his hand.
Dallas shook it. “Takes a big man to lose gracefully. I wish you well, Dennison.”
He nodded with a sort of dignity. Dallas turned and started searching the water for more survivors.
As Lyle walked past Julienne he said quietly, “Congratulations, Miss Ashby.”
“Thank you, Lyle,” she said warmly.
He went in the ballroom and, being very familiar with the
River Queen
, walked between the people lying on the floor straight back to what he had planned to be the gentlemen’s salon. Already there was a fully-stocked bar, locked away in a small storage closet. He doubted that the Ashbys even knew of it. He pulled out an expensive bottle of brandy and took a long gurgling swig of it. “So I lost the
Columbia Lady
and the
Queen
,” he murmured to himself, “and I lost the girl. Too bad for me. I can build more boats. But I don’t think I’ll ever get another girl like her.”
THE
STATE OF CAROLINA
had come out of Natchez and reached the wreck about half an hour after it happened. They doubled up the rescues, helped to bring on the dead, and soon both she and the
River Queen
were back in Natchez. Even though it was almost 2 a.m., people had been waiting up, crowded all up and down Silver Street, the wharves, and the boardwalk, waiting for the winner. When the two boats came in with their tragic news, word spread quickly. Soon wagons, buggies, and carriages were lined up to take the injured to hospitals or hotels and the dead to the city morgue.
The mayor of Natchez, Big Jim Scanlon, came to the
River Queen
and said, “You won, Mr. Bronte.”
“Not the way I’d like to have won,” Dallas said. “It’s always a shame to see a fine ship go down.”
“It is, it’s a shame and a waste and a tragedy that some have lost their lives. But come on with me, Mr. Bronte. We’re going through with this ceremony.”
Going through the ceremony meant going up to the platform that had been built, and the mayor made a speech, then handed Dallas a box. “Here’s the prize, but I want to say you won more than the race. I’ve been hearing how you stopped and saved all the passengers you could. I honor you for it.”
That was all the ceremony. There was too much tragedy to celebrate.
It was about four a.m. before things died down enough for Dallas to return to the
River Queen.
Julienne sat on deck in her rocking chair, waiting for him. He went to lean on the railing, as he had done so many times before, and she joined him.