Argosy: The Short Story Magazine — page 85: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

HEART OF THE STORM 85 bolting over the ship, forcing her, chameleon-like, to assume its own colour. Hawkins said suddenly, “ Isn’t that a rocket, Skipper? ” Where? ” “Thought I saw one out to starboard.’”’ Hawkins pointed out of the First Officer’s side window. Kelston peered across to the right. ‘The excitement on his face died down. ‘There was only a grey curtain of rain there now. ** See anything, Mr. Shaughnessy? ”’ he asked. “I wasn’t looking that way, sir.” ** What colour? ’’ Kelston asked Hawkins. ** Red, sir.”’ Kelston put Easy Zebra in a slow turn to the right. His eyes searched the sea on the starboard bow. Suddenly, the folds of the rain clouds parted. ‘The wind seemed to yank at their indefinite edges, as though trying to pull them to pieces. Just underneath the nose of the aircraft, Kelston caught a glimpse of what looked like a huge horseshoe in the sea, before it disappeared below them. *“'That was her-stern, all right,’’ he said, and he banked round to the right to have another look. With difficulty, he made out the outlines of a superstructure being pounded by a torrent of water. ‘Then the whole black hull was laid almost flat, silhouetted against the white fury of the waves. Bates came up to the front to have a look at her. ‘‘ Lord,” he said, with a mixture of horror and pity in his voice, ‘“‘ they’re taking a beating. ” Kelston turned to him. ‘‘ Send her position to Control. Tell them we’re circling. And ask them where the tugs are.” ** Not much fuel left, Skipper,’’ Hawkins said. “I’ve been keeping an eye on the time. Reduce the power on the engines to eighteen inches. I’m going to try and hover just above stalling.”’ For ten more minutes, Easy Zebra flew slowly round the stricken ship, using less than half the fuel for normal cruising speed. It was difficult to keep her in sight. Kelston kept his eyes steadily on: her. Again and again, the Santa Lucinda bobbed up, only to | be pushed over by another enormous onrush of the sea. It was as though some huge bully was punching the life out of a defence- less, half-drowned child. Kelston felt the irony of not being able to reach out and help her. All he could do was to keep her company. But the tugs had got her position now. “They’re only to miles north, Skipper . . . so Control say,’’ Draper informed him. “We'll go and see if we can find them,” Kelston said, and he turned Easy Zebra towards the north. A few minutes later, he saw them. ‘They were far easier to see than the tramp steamer. Smoke gushed from their funnels like huge brown markers, pin- pointing them in their grey-and-white background. They were ocean-going types, stationed in Ponta Delgada in comiclbooks.comnn