mud--one of those pasty
fogs that choke you like hot steam. We had three men in the cro'nest
and two for'ard hangin' over her bow-rail. The dog began to grow
restless. Then his ears went up and his tail straightened out, and he
began to growl as if he had seen another dog. The captain was listenin'
from the bridge, and he suspected somethin' was wrong and rang 'Slow
down!' just in time to save us from smashing bow on into that
brigantine. Another time he rose on his hind legs and 'let out' a yelp
that peeled everybody's eyes. Then the slippery, barnacle-covered
bottom of a water-logged derelict went scootin' by a few yards off our
starboard quarter. After that the men got to dependin' on him--'Ought
to have a first mate's pay,' I used to tell the captain, at which he
would laugh and pat the dog on the head.

"One morning about eight bells, some two hundred miles off Rio--we were
'board the Zampa, one of our South American line, with eighteen
first-class passengers, half of 'em women, and ten or twelve
emigrants--when word came to the bridge that a fire had started in the
cargo. We had a lot of light freight on board and some explosives which
were to be used in the mines in the mountains off the coast, so fire
was the last thing we wanted. Bayard--did I tell you the dog's name was
Bayard?--that's what the girl called him--was on the bridge with
Captain Bogart. I was asleep in my bunk. First thing I knew I felt the
dog's cold nose in my face, and the next thing I was on the dead run
for the after-hatch. I've had it big and ugly a good many times in my
life; was washed upon a pile of rocks once stickin' up about a cable's
length off our coast, and hung to the cracks until I dropped into a
lifeboat; and another time I was picked up for dead off Natal and
rolled on a barrel till I came to. But that racket aboard the Zampa was
the worst yet.

"When I jumped in among the men the smoke was creepin' out between the
lids of the hatch. We ripped that off and began diggin' up the
cargo--crates of chairs, rolls of mattin', some spruce
scantling--runnin' the nozzle of the hose down as far as we could get
it. There were no water-tight compartments which we could have flooded
in those days as there are now, or we could have smothered it first
off. What we had to do was to fight it inch by inch. I knew where the
explosives were, and so did the captain and purser, but the crew
didn't--didn't even know they were aboard, and I was glad