“Next day she began to smoke in earnest.  You see it was to be expected, for though the coal was of a safe kind, that cargo had been so handled, so broken up with handling, that it looked more like smithy coal than anything else.  Then it had been wetted—­more than once.  It rained all the time we were taking it back from the hulk, and now with this long passage it got heated, and there was another case of spontaneous combustion.

“The captain called us into the cabin.  He had a chart spread on the table, and looked unhappy.  He said, ’The coast of West Australia is near, but I mean to proceed to our destination.  It is the hurricane month too; but we will just keep her head for Bankok, and fight the fire.  No more putting back anywhere, if we all get roasted.  We will try first to stifle this ‘ere damned combustion by want of air.’

“We tried.  We battened down everything, and still she smoked.  The smoke kept coming out through imperceptible crevices; it forced itself through bulkheads and covers; it oozed here and there and everywhere in slender threads, in an invisible film, in an incomprehensible manner.  It made its way into the cabin, into the forecastle; it poisoned the sheltered places on the deck, it could be sniffed as high as the main-yard.  It was clear that if the smoke came out the air came in.  This was disheartening.  This combustion refused to be stifled.

“We resolved to try water, and took the hatches off.  Enormous volumes of smoke, whitish, yellowish, thick, greasy, misty, choking, ascended as high as the trucks.  All hands cleared out aft.  Then the poisonous cloud blew away, and we went back to work in a smoke that was no thicker now than that of an ordinary factory chimney.

“We rigged the force pump, got the hose along, and by-and-by it burst.  Well, it was as old as the ship—­a prehistoric hose, and past repair.  Then we pumped with the feeble head-pump, drew water with buckets, and in this way managed in time to pour lots of Indian Ocean into the main hatch.  The bright stream flashed in sunshine, fell into a layer of white crawling smoke, and vanished on the black surface of coal.  Steam ascended mingling with the smoke.  We poured salt water as into a barrel without a bottom.  It was our fate to pump in that ship, to pump out of her, to pump into her; and after keeping water out of her to save ourselves from being drowned, we frantically poured water into her to save ourselves from being burnt.

“And she crawled on, do or die, in the serene weather.  The sky was a miracle of purity, a miracle of azure.  The sea was polished, was blue, was pellucid, was sparkling like a precious stone, extending on all sides, all round to the horizon—­as if the whole terrestrial globe had been one jewel, one colossal sapphire, a single gem fashioned into a planet.  And on the luster of the great calm waters the Judea glided imperceptibly, enveloped in languid and unclean vapours, in a lazy cloud that drifted to leeward, light and slow:  a pestiferous cloud defiling the splendour of sea and sky.