“Get some warm clothes on and grab everything else you can,” Frank said. “We’re abandoning ship.”
“So it is sinking!” Conway exclaimed. “We hit a rock or something, didn’t we?”
Frank nodded. “That’d be my guess. The same thing goes for you and your friends, Pete. Grab as many supplies as you can and head for the lifeboats.”
Conway looked scared, but he didn’t waste time asking any more questions. He turned to the others and said, “Let’s go, fellows.”
The next few minutes were barely controlled chaos. Frank made sure that the women were gathering supplies and understood what they were supposed to do; then he headed for the cargo hold where Stormy, Goldy, and Dog were. The horses would have to swim for shore. They wouldn’t fit in a lifeboat. He knew their chances of survival were slim, but he couldn’t leave them here. If any animals had the strength, stamina, and gallant hearts to make it through this ordeal, it was Stormy and Goldy.
The horses were frightened but not panicking. Dog barked furiously as Frank swung down into the hold. He came to Frank and reared up to slobber on his face. Frank grinned and roughed up the thick fur around Dog’s neck. “Stay with me, boy,” he said. “We’ll find room for you in the lifeboat.”
He looked around for the heavy planks that formed the ramp, intending to put them in place so that Stormy and Goldy could get out of there. He had just found them when a couple of sailors dropped into the hold.
“Captain Hoffman sent us to help you!” one of the men said. “He figured you’d want to get those horses of yours out of there!”
“Thanks!” Frank said. “Let’s get that ramp up!”
With grunts of effort, Frank and the two sailors wrestled the planks into place. Then Frank said, “We’ll need some of these supplies when we get to shore. Load as many of the crates as you can into the lifeboats!”
The men got busy with that while Frank slipped harnesses on the two horses and led them up the ramp to the deck. It was slippery for them, too, and he worried they might fall and break a leg before they ever got off the ship.
The women staggered up from below, their arms full of bundles. One of the ship’s officers had them place the supplies in one lifeboat, then climb into another themselves. “Hang on, ladies!” he told them, lifting his voice over the gale. “We’re about to swing you over the side!”
Several of the women screamed as the boat swung out on its davits and then was lowered to the stormy sea. It bobbed and leaped, and they had to hang on for dear life.
Frank bit back a curse as he watched. He wished he was in the same lifeboat, but it was too late to do anything about that. He’d been too busy loading supplies to stop.
Pete Conway came up beside him, grunting with the effort of carrying a crate. “I don’t know…what’s in here…Mr. Morgan,” the young man said, “but I reckon…we can probably use it!”
Frank recognized the crate containing the rifles, pistols, and ammunition and realized that Conway was carrying by himself what it had taken two sailors to load onto the ship. He took hold of it and helped Conway put it in one of the lifeboats.
Captain Hoffman came along the deck, shouting, “All passengers in the lifeboats! All passengers off! Abandon ship! Abandon ship!” He paused and looked at Frank. “God, I’m sorry, Morgan! I…I don’t know what happened!”
Frank didn’t say anything. He didn’t know if Hoffman was truly to blame for this catastrophe or if it was purely a case of bad luck, and right now he didn’t care. He took hold of Conway’s arm and said, “Climb in, Pete! I’ll be right back!”
He hurried over to his horses, grabbed their harnesses, and led them toward the edge of the deck where a section of railing had been swung out to let the lifeboats through. “You boys are gonna have to swim for it!” he told them. “I never had a better pair of trail partners! I’ll see you on shore!”
Frank didn’t know if the horses would jump off into the water or not. He didn’t have a chance to find out, because at that moment someone yelled, “Look out! The rocks!” and the Montclair gave a violent lurch. A rending crash of wood and metal and rock filled the air. The impact threw Frank off his feet.
He landed on the icy deck and slid toward the edge. Twisting, he slapped at the deck to try to slow himself, but the ship kept tilting. Timbers groaned and snapped and bulkheads crumpled as the waves drove it against a giant rock. Frank had no chance to stop his slide.
Like a rocket, he shot off the deck and plummeted toward the icy water below.
Chapter 13
The fall tried to suck all the breath out of Frank’s body. He managed to drag a little air into his lungs just before he hit the water. It slammed against him like a frozen fist, and as he went under, its frigid grip closed around him and threatened to squeeze the very life out of him. Fighting against the panic that welled up inside him, he kicked hard in an effort to propel himself back to the surface.
Something struck a heavy blow against his shoulder. He spun around and grabbed at it. His hand came out of the water. Someone grabbed it and hauled hard, lifting him. Frank’s head broke the surface. He gasped for air through teeth that began to chatter involuntarily as the wind hit his soaked body.
His rescuer wrapped brawny arms around him and hauled him up, into one of the lifeboats. The small part of Frank’s brain that was still functioning in spite of the cold told him that the boat was what he had rammed with his shoulder.
“Gather around him! Get him out of the wind!” That was Pete Conway’s voice bellowing orders. Obviously, the boat containing Conway and some of the supplies had made it into the water. Frank felt bodies crowding around him, and it was a blessed relief as they cut the wind. He still felt like he was frozen through and through. The water had sapped every bit of warmth out of his body.
Frank couldn’t see anything. His eyes seemed to be frozen shut. He lifted a hand and pawed clumsily at them, finally forcing them open.
His sight returned in time for him to see the Montclair break up on the jagged rocks. The waves threw spume and broken boards high in the air as the ship splintered apart into sections. Frank didn’t know if anyone was left on board, but if they were, he didn’t see how they could survive such devastation. It was one of the most terrible things he had ever seen.
He looked around, hoping to see the other lifeboats or maybe even Stormy or Goldy swimming for shore, but there was too much fog, too many crashing waves. As far as he could tell, the narrow boat containing him, Conway, half a dozen other cheechakos, and some crates of supplies was alone on the vast, storm-tossed sea.
“Look out!” one of the men yelled. A rock loomed up in front of them. The lifeboat seemed to be headed straight for it, but somehow the current carried it past.
They weren’t as lucky the next time. A man screamed as a wave lifted the boat and brought it crashing down against a rock. The boat broke in half, dumping men and crates into the water. Frank grabbed one of the crates as he fell, and this time he didn’t go all the way under. As the crate bobbed up, carrying him with it, he looked around, hoping to spot Conway.
Someone was thrashing around nearby. Frank held on to the crate with one arm and used the other to paddle toward the man. His muscles didn’t want to work very well because of the cold, but he managed to make enough headway that he could reach out and grab the man’s coat. He pulled the man closer and yelled, “Grab the crate! Grab the crate!”
Pete Conway’s head broke the surface. His blond hair was plastered to his skull. He flailed around for a second before he got one arm wrapped around the crate. With both Frank’s and Conway’s weight on it, the crate rode low in the water. It might not be enough to keep them both afloat. Frank looked around, spotted another crate floating nearby, and kicked them toward it. Once the second crate was within reach, he let go of the first one and grabbed it instead.