The Nameless Island Part 3

On the morning of the fourth day of the storm the wind piped down considerably, and the Peruvian captain ordered the fore and aft canvas to be set. The engine-room staff also began to take steps to attempt the temporary repairing of the shafting, and had already removed a considerable portion of the plating of the tunnel.

As yet the sky was completely overcast. At noon the officers, s.e.xtant in hand, waited in vain for an opportunity of "shooting the sun."

Where the ship was, no one on board knew, though it was agreed that she was driven several miles to the south'ard of her proper course.

The weather began to improve as night drew on. The setting sun was just visible in a patch of purple sky, showing that fine weather might be expected from that quarter. The gla.s.s, too, was rising; not rapidly, but gradually and surely.

"Now for a good night's rest," exclaimed Andy, for throughout the gale the lads had turned in "all standing."

But Andy was doomed to be disappointed, for at four bells in the middle watch (2 a.m.) a sudden crash roused the sleepers from their berths.

The _San Martin_ was hard and fast aground.

CHAPTER III

ABANDONED

Hastily a.s.suring the helpless Mr. McKay that they would soon return and tell him how things really stood, the three lads rushed on deck.

It needed no seaman's instinct to tell that the _San Martin_ was doomed. Scudding before the lessening gale, she had been lifted on the crest of a huge roller and dropped fairly on the rocks. Her forward part, trembling under the tremendous blows of the waves, was hard and fast aground, while her after part, lifting to the heave of the ocean, a.s.sisted, like a gigantic lever, in the destruction of her bows.

Above the roar of the waves, the howling of the wind, and the shattering of iron plates, arose the frantic shouts of the crew.

Already demoralised by their trying experiences in the gale, the last vestiges of discipline had vanished. In the darkness, for now no favouring lightning flash came to throw a light upon the scene, the Peruvian crew rushed madly for the boats, fighting, cursing, entreating, and imploring the saints.

For'ard a succession of rapid cracks, as the trysail, having burst its sheets, was flogging itself to ribbons, added to the din, till the foremast, buckling close to the deck, crashed over the side.

"Come on," shouted Andy, and even then his voice sounded faint in the midst of the terrifying uproar, "let's get the pater on deck."

Ellerton shook his head.

"Better stop where he is. What chance do you think these fellows will have?" and he pointed to the struggling ma.s.s of frenzied seamen as they clambered into the boats.

Already the cutter, still in the davits, was crowded, the men striving to swing her clear with oars and stretchers, while others were scrambling up the boat ladders.

Round swung the foremost davit. The men who had already climbed into her began to lower away the boat-falls. A sudden lurch sent the cutter, already at a dangerous angle, crashing into the ship's side.

The lower block of the foremost fall became disentangled, and, amidst a chorus of shrieks, the boat swung stern in the air, shooting its human freight into the surging waters.

The next instant a huge wave dashed the swaying cutter into matchwood, the wind drowning the death shouts of a score of hapless victims.

Heedless of the fate of their comrades, the remainder of the crew made a headlong rush for one of the quarter boats. Being more to lee'ard, for the _San Martin_ had struck with the wind on her starboard quarter, this boat seemed to stand little chance.

Ellerton could hear the captain's voice, urging the men to swing the boat clear. The apprentice sprang towards the falls.

"You are not going to throw away your life, are you?" shouted Andy, grasping him by the shoulder.

"No; but I'm going to give those fellows a chance. Stand by that rope, take a turn round that cleat, and lower when I give the word."

The last of the Peruvian seamen had scrambled into the boat. Not one of these cared who was left; all that they knew was that a few remained to man the falls, but in the darkness they were unaware that it was the British lads who stayed to help them.

"Lower!" yelled Ellerton.

Swiftly the ropes ran through the blocks. The crest of a wave received the frail boat, and, more by luck than by good management, the seamen contrived to disengage the falls. Then the oars splashed, and the next instant the boat was lost to sight in the darkness.

For a brief instant the chums stood in silence, grasping one of the now burdenless davits. They were alone--a crippled man, three lads, and a native boy--upon an abandoned vessel that threatened every moment to part amidships.

Where they were they had no possible knowledge. The ship was aground, but whether on an isolated rock, or, what was more than likely, upon the edge of an encircling reef, they knew not. They must wait till daylight--if they were fated to see the dawn of another day--but they were determined that the anxious period of waiting should not be pa.s.sed in idleness.

Returning to the cabin where Mr. McKay was lying in suspense, awaiting news of their hazardous position, the lads briefly explained what had happened during their absence on deck.

"We must hope for the best," observed the invalid. "And, after that, we stand a better chance than those in the boat. Even if those poor fellows escape being dashed to death upon a rock-bound sh.o.r.e, or being engulfed in the waves, they'll have a terrible time. No water or provisions, no compa.s.s--a thousand tortures before they reach land or are picked up by a pa.s.sing craft."

"I think the seas are getting less heavy," said Andy. "Is it because the tide is falling?"

"The tide may have something to do with it," replied Mr. McKay; "though the rise and fall is barely four feet."

"Our stern seems to be settling," said Ellerton. "The ship doesn't appear quite so lively."

"That may be because the water is pouring into the after-hold,"

remarked Andy.

"In that case the vessel is settling on the bottom; otherwise she would sink. That's another point in our favour, and it often happens that there is deep water close to the reef," said the apprentice. "But let's to work. Terence, you know where the steward's pantry is. Take a lamp and fetch up as much stuff as you can carry. Andy, will you please take Quexo with you and bring up a couple of barricoes of water?"

While they were thus engaged, Ellerton collected five lifebelts, one of which he proceeded to fasten round Mr. McKay's body.

"We may want them, sir; but, on the other hand, we may not. In any case, if there is an island under our lee we had better wear these, especially if we have to land through the surf."

"I fancy I shall have some difficulty in getting through the surf,"

replied Mr. McKay with a grim smile.

"Never fear, sir; we'll pull you through," was the determined a.s.surance.

Presently Andy and the mulatto returned, having found and secured a supply of the precious fluid.

"The fore-hold and the engine-room are flooded," reported the former, "and I think there's a hole on the starboard quarter. But I believe there's some of the crew up for'ard--I heard them groaning."

"Let's go and see," replied Ellerton, buckling on a lifebelt and picking up a lantern.

"Be careful, lads," cautioned Mr. McKay.

"Trust us," answered Andy, likewise putting on a belt. "We need not wait for Terence."

"Why, it's not half so rough," he continued as they gained the deck, which had settled to a list of less than ten degrees, and no longer lifted as the rollers swept past. "See, very few of the waves break over the ship."

"It's a bad job those cowardly beggars pushed off," replied Ellerton.

"They would have done better to have waited. But listen!"

Above the moaning of the wind came the unmistakable sound of a groan.