The Ruined Cities of Zululand Part 36

"We must get a few fathom away before the old barky makes her last plunge, Lowe."

"Ay, ay, sir; ship the sweeps, my lads, and give way."

There was not a breath of wind, but the growing coolness of the air told of morning being near, for in tropical climates the coldest hour of the twenty-four is ever that which precedes dawn.

The sweeps were long and clumsy, and as the royal which had been set as sail was wholly useless, the motion of the unwieldy raft was necessarily very slow. Two men were at each sweep, and there were four of them, yet the raft barely moved through the water. Captain Weber sat on a case, his head leaning on his hands, and his face turned towards the "Halcyon."

The starlight was not bright enough to show the tears that rolled slowly down his weather-beaten cheeks. On a heap of sails, nestling by her husband's side, his large military cloak thrown over her, sat Isabel, and she too was looking towards the dark ma.s.s of the sinking vessel.

The seaman mourned his ship, the home of many years, the companion of danger of every kind; Isabel's cheek was wet too, for she mourned a father's loss, and her eyes were eagerly, turned to a dim, faint ray of light shining from one of the ports. She knew that it came from the cabin where her dead father lay. The sweeps fell with measured cadence into the water, the men pulling in stern silence, until they were about five hundred yards away, and then, without, any order from any one, they ceased rowing. The grey dawn was slowly breaking over the ocean as the brig gave one wild roll to port. She seemed unable to right herself, and those on the raft drew a long breath, as she partially did so. The water, in her hold rolled heavily forward. Down went her bows, down, down into the salt sea, as lurching heavily and slowly to starboard, she disappeared, the sea boiling in foam around her.

"My father! oh, my father!" cried Isabel, as she clasped her hands together and sprang forward, as though to join him, but her husband's strong arm was round her, drawing her gently back.

"Give way, my lads, give way, the old barky's bones are better there than if the crew of the accursed pirate schooner had trod her decks,"

said the captain, deliberately turning his back on the spot, and pa.s.sing the cuff of his coat over his eyes.

The sun rose in all its splendour over the Indian Ocean, sleeping quietly and calmly under its rays. There were plenty of sails, and an awning was constructed, which gave shelter to all, and slowly and wearily the day wore on.

So long as it remained calm there was no danger, and tedious as their advance was it remained but a question of time as to when the forty miles which separated them from the land should be pa.s.sed. But night set in before half the distance had been overcome, and there was a dull moaning sound over the ocean, the sailors' eyes telling them that the scud was flying from the westward, a wind which, if it set in, would infallibly blow them off land. All night long the men toiled at the heavy sweeps. They were fairly worn out with fatigue, some of them sleeping at the oars. The captain, his mate, and pa.s.sengers all took their turn, but towards two o'clock the first puffs of the westerly gale were felt, and the captain, seeing the utter uselessness of prolonging the struggle, gave orders to ship the sweeps, and for the men to lie down. Isabel had long since cried herself to sleep, and on board the raft none but the captain and Hughes watched as morning dawned over the sea.

Volume 2, Chapter IX.

SAIL HO!

On board everything had been done to promote the safety of its occupants that could be effected. The lashings of the timbers had been carefully overhauled and strengthened under Captain Weber's own superintendence, while the boxes and cases of provisions, which had been lowered on to the raft before pushing off from the sinking ship, had been arranged so as to form a kind of walled cabin over which a heavy sail had been spread as its roof. A light studding sail formed the door, which could be brailed up or let down at the desire of the occupant. The weather continued moderate, and though a green wave would occasionally break on board, no great discomfort had been as yet experienced.

It had been a sad moment when the sweeps were unshipped, and when the line of coast became fainter and fainter, until at last its outline was no more distinguishable, and nothing was to be seen but the wide expanse of ocean, on which the frail raft rose and fell. The gulls and Mother Carey's chickens were their sole companions, and the sun rose without a cloud, daily to pour its blaze of light over the calm waters of the Indian Ocean, and then to sink to rest, setting, as it seemed, in the waste of waters. Soon the stars would peep forth, and the gentle breeze which had prevailed during the day, die away into calm; no sound disturbing the stillness, except the occasional spouting of a whale near the raft, the whish of the breaking wave, and the creak of the spars as they worked together.

At first the men bore this well, for there were no watches to keep, no sails to tend, and provisions of all kinds were plentiful. Calm weather was to be expected after the late series of heavy gales, and they were sure to be picked up. They must be rapidly nearing the sh.o.r.es of Madagascar, too, and the men amused themselves by spinning long yarns about the savage inhabitants of the island, between the intervals of smoking, eating, and drinking. The dawning of daylight was ever an anxious moment for all, and every eye eagerly scanned the limited horizon in quest of the coming ship. The light grew gradually stronger; the wing of a gull was taken for a sail. A feeling of delight, of hope, spread through the hearts of all. The delusion was exposed as the sun tipped the tops of the waves with its light, and, do what they would, despondency took the place of hope. At first none would acknowledge this feeling, each trying to cheer up the other; but the men became gradually restless and uneasy, the tale and the laugh were less frequent; the few orders which were given them were obeyed, it is true, but slowly and listlessly, and it became evident that the confinement to so limited a s.p.a.ce was telling, and that the crew were becoming demoralised.

The morning of the third day since the loss of the "Halcyon" had dawned, and the raft still rose and fell on the gentle swell of the ocean. The studding sail was brailed up, and Isabel was seated at the open entrance. Captain Hughes was lying on the spars at her feet, while close by Weber and his mate were endeavouring to p.r.i.c.k off their position on a chart, which was spread on a barrel. The men were just finishing their twelve o'clock dinner, and the raft was slowly driving through the water before a gentle westerly breeze.

On a box between the two at the entrance of the improvised cabin stood a chess-board. The pieces were ranged in position, but the interest of the game seemed languishing.

"You might have checkmated me, last move, Enrico," said Isabel. "Either you did not care to do so, or you are thinking of something else."

In fact Hughes had been gazing up into the speaker's face, and had forgotten all about the game.

"A game at chess on a raft in the Indian Ocean is another thing to one in a lady's drawing-room," remarked the missionary, who had been looking on at the play, with a smile on his face; "and yet," he continued, "it has been much the same kind of game as usually takes place between a lady and gentleman thinking only of each other."

"Oh, how I should like to have my foot once more on the carpet of that same drawing-room!" exclaimed Isabel. "This eternal hoping against hope is dreary work."

"We have known worse moments together, Isabel," remarked Hughes, who had raised himself from his elbow to a sitting position, and was gazing intently over the waves.

"I dare say I am impatient, Enrico; but everything seems to go wrong.

First of all the storm, and then, when safely moored in the land-locked bay, where everything seemed so quiet, the frightful affair with the Malays. I think I can hear their terrible yells yet." And the girl covered her eyes with her hands.

Hughes had risen, and was leaning moodily against a pile of boxes, and still gazing over the sea.

"No sooner," continued Isabel, "had we made all right than the pirate schooner was upon us, and, as if that was not sufficient, the storm which caused my dear father's death followed."

"To me, Isabel, there seems still one bright point in all the black past you are looking into," replied Hughes, as his gaze left the distant horizon, to fix itself on Isabel's fair face.

Raising her l.u.s.trous black eyes, and returning the look with one of deep confiding tenderness, Isabel placed her hand on his arm, as she continued--

"But just as we were close to land, when I could see the undulations of the coast line, and mark the clumps of trees on the sh.o.r.e, to be driven away,--and now this fearfully monotonous life, ever rising and falling on the waves. One of these days we shall see Madagascar, and just as we are about to land, be blown to sea again."

"Sail ho!" shouted Hughes, in a voice which startled every one on board.

"You are right!" exclaimed Captain Weber, starting to his feet. "See there away to the westward." And he laid his brown hand on the mate's shoulder, pointing in the direction named; and, sure enough, no bigger than a man's hand, like the wing of some far-away sea-gull, a small patch of white appeared on the horizon.

A hearty cheer burst from the missionary's lips, and it was taken up by all on board. The men, however, did not evince much satisfaction. They were sorry, it may be, after all to change a life of idleness for one of toil; or they knew, perhaps, that the pa.s.sing sail might not come near.

However this might be, certain it is, that after gazing on the white speck which told of coming help, one after another sat down in a dogged, sullen manner, as though they cared little about the matter.

Grouped round the entrance to the little cabin, Captain Weber, his mate, and pa.s.sengers began the midday meal, and it was a more cheerful one than usual. Provisions were plentiful, and Mr Lowe had reported the strange sail to be nearing them rapidly.

"She is working to the southward on a wind," remarked he; "and if she makes a long leg will run us slap aboard."

"See the union jack set over our mainsail, Mr Lowe," returned the captain, "it will not help us along much, but will make us more easily seen. They don't keep a very bright look-out on board yonder craft, I'll be bound."

"Ay, ay, sir. Come, my lads, make sail on the frigate," said the mate, laughing, "we'll soon run yonder fellow aboard."

The flag was hoisted, the whole party watching anxiously. The sun shone brightly on the white canvas of a full-rigged ship, which was coming bows on towards them. At the door of the rude cabin Isabel sat, her hand clasped in that of her lover-husband, her head resting on his shoulder, and her eyes intently fixed on the ship.

"How beautiful she looks as she heels over to the breeze," she murmured.

"Surely, they see us now."

"The ship is more than ten knots away," replied Captain Weber, "and if even the look-out saw us, and most probably there is none, we should only be taken for a gull or albatross."

"Could we not make them hear us?" asked Isabel.

"Impossible," replied the master; "but we will try. Now my lads, a good hearty cheer," he shouted. "Hip! hip! hurrah! One cheer more; fancy yourselves at the Jolly Tar in Portsmouth Harbour. Hooray! Why, I have heard you make twice the row when I wanted you to knock off shouting,"

he said, as the cheer died away. In point of fact, the crew seemed too idle even to exert themselves for their own safety.

"See," said Isabel, "see, they hear us!" and she clasped her hands together as she spoke with delight.

Captain Weber and his mate knew better. There were, indeed, indications of a bustle on board the ship. The sun was shining brightly full on her white canvas, and even the dark ma.s.s of her hull could be made out, as she came careering through the waves, with all sail set to her royals on a taut bowline. Then her sails shivered, the black bows came sweeping up to the wind, the yards were braced round, as the ship, now on the opposite tack, every moment lessened the chance of those on board the doomed raft.

"One effort more, my lads; stay a moment, they'll be coiling down the sheets and bowlines just now. Are you ready? 'Ship, ahoy! ahoy!

aho-o-o-y!'" roared the captain with all the force of his powerful lungs, producing a shout, with which the voices of all on board joined, even the feeble treble of Isabel being heard.

It was useless; the ship neither heard nor saw them, but kept calmly and steadily on her course, leaving them to their fate. Towards sunset her royals only could be seen on the horizon, and when the stars shone forth, the raft was once more rising and falling in helpless loneliness on the waves of the sleeping ocean, slowly dragging on her way.

Isabel had retired, and cried herself to sleep. Hughes had thrown himself, as was his wont, before the opening of the cabin, and was quite motionless. Near him lay several rec.u.mbent forms wrapped in cloaks or tarpaulins, while the men, grouped together, were, or seemed to be, sleeping.

He had bitterly felt the cruel disappointment of the morning, and, though it was nearly midnight, was in reality wide awake. A low confused murmur reached him, and he listened attentively.

"I tell you he has all the gold aboard, Phillips; enough to make men of the likes of we," were the words which came to his ears.