The Voyages of the Ranger and Crusader Part 7

"You would scarcely suppose that this glorious illumination of the ocean is caused by countless numbers of minute living creatures," he observed.

"As the telescope reveals to us some of the wonders of the heavens, so the microscope enables to inspect many of the smallest of created beings."

"What, Mr Paget, is every spark of light we see a living creature?"

asked May.

"Yes, indeed," was the answer. "And probably we see at a time not a thousandth part of the number of those which are floating around."

The ship all this time had been standing over towards the coast of South America, then to steer parallel with it, till, feeling the influence of the trade winds, she was to keep eastward towards her destination.

Hitherto good progress had been made, and a rapid pa.s.sage was expected; but near the Tropic of Capricorn the wind fell, till a dead calm rested on the ocean; gradually every ripple was (as Mrs Clagget expressed it) smoothed out of the water. The sails hung idly down against the masts, chips of wood thrown overboard floated alongside, the sun struck down with terrific force, the whole sea shining like a sheet of burnished gold. The pa.s.sengers could no longer bear the heat below; and when they came on deck, and sought whatever shade could be found, they gained but little by the change. Though the sky, after a time, became overcast, and a light steamy mist pervaded the atmosphere, the heat, rather than moderating, increased. Few on board could resist complaining. Night brought no relief. People who had appeared active enough before sat listless about the decks. Books, if open, were unread. The seamen even exhibited the same listlessness as the rest of those on board. Emily and May did their best to keep up their spirits, but their efforts were unavailing. Captain Westerway and Bill Windy were among the few who appeared unaffected. Mr Paget, also exerting himself to the utmost, went about his usual occupations, and endeavoured to revive the spirits of his companions. It was evident, however, that unless a breeze should spring up some evil consequences would too probably ensue. Day after day the ship floated on the gla.s.sy sea, no sail in sight, the only object ever visible beyond her deck being some wandering tropic bird, which might be seen hovering on high, watching with keen sight for its prey.

The surgeon appeared one morning with a grave face, to make his report to the captain. Several of the steerage pa.s.sengers were on the sick list. As the day wore on, others were added to them: some, he feared, were cases of malignant fever. They were removed to a part of the ship screened off to serve as an hospital. Nothing else could be done except to fumigate the "between-decks," that operation rather adding to the heat than otherwise. The cabin pa.s.sengers at length became alarmed.

"Oh, dear, what shall we do if there is fever?" exclaimed Mrs Clagget to her young companions. "We must take care that no one ever comes near us."

No one was more alarmed than Mr Job Mawson; for, in spite of the heat, he shut himself up in his cabin, and was afraid of coming in contact even with the steward, lest he should have pa.s.sed near any of the sick emigrants. Mr Paget, on the contrary, was more active than ever; he, without hesitation, spent many hours of each day visiting those stricken down by disease, and endeavouring to rouse the spirits of those who had hitherto escaped. Charles Dicey, in spite of Mrs Clagget's warnings, accompanied him, and gave every a.s.sistance in his power to the surgeon.

Day after day others were added to the numbers already suffering from fever. One poor woman, the mother of a family, sank beneath it, and it was a sad spectacle to all on deck as the body, secured in canvas, and heavily weighted, was committed to the deep. The voice of Captain Westerway, generally so firm, trembled as he read the funeral service.

Another and another followed. At last the good captain entreated Mr Paget to perform the painful duty for him. How every one longed for a breeze to carry the fever-stricken ship out of that inhospitable region!

It was supposed that the disease must have been brought on board, and had only now developed itself, as the poor woman who had just died had been ill when she left England.

Emily and May had at first listened to Mrs Clagget's advice, but when so many women and children became ill, they could no longer refrain from a.s.sisting in nursing them. Fearlessly they sat by the side of the sick, reading to the elder ones, and trying to soothe and comfort the younger children. Several children of the first poor woman who had died followed their mother to her watery grave.

Charles at first tried to persuade his sisters that they were not called upon to risk their health.

"Then why do you risk yours, brother?" asked Emily. "Your life, surely, is as precious as ours. You would get on very well without us, but we should be forlorn creatures indeed if left alone. I am sure we are but doing our duty, and there is One above who will protect us."

"But I am more hardy than you are," argued Charles. "I can go aloft, too, and get any germs of fever which I might have contracted blown away."

"There is no wind to blow them away," said Emily, "and we are not more likely to catch the fever than you are. Let us do our duty, and leave the rest to G.o.d."

Still, though Charles was not thoroughly convinced, his sisters gained their object. That very day they visited the hospital, nursed the poor children, gave them their medicine and food, and rendered all the a.s.sistance they could to the sick mothers. Charles used to look anxiously at them every morning as they appeared at breakfast, fearful of hearing them complain of illness; but the bloom of health still glowed on their cheeks, and though grave, and sometimes sad when another victim had been added to those already taken off by the disease, they retained their spirits and courage.

"Really, Dicey, you are a brave fellow," said Jack Ivyleaf one day, while Charles was taking his usual walk on deck for exercise. "I cannot bring myself to go among those sick people as you do. It's all very well to go forward and amuse them when they are in health, and inclined to be jolly; but to go and sit in the hot, sweltering atmosphere between-decks is quite another thing."

"Possibly, Mr Ivyleaf, you do not reflect that those poor sick people have immortal souls like ourselves," observed Mr Paget, who had that instant joined them. "If we profess to be Christians we should look upon them as brothers in distress, and do our utmost for their souls as well as their bodies."

"Ah, no, to be sure," said Jack, keeping his mouth agape, and gazing at Mr Paget. "I should have thought that sort of work might be left to the parson and doctor."

"But as we have no parson on board, and the doctor is overworked, does it not strike you that the poor people have a right to our a.s.sistance?"

asked Mr Paget.

"Right! I don't see that they can have any right!" said Jack; "though it's very kind in you and Dicey to attend to them." Jack Ivyleaf looked as if he was afraid that his companions wished to enlist him in the service he dreaded, and was evidently trying to make his escape from them.

The captain and first officer were on deck. The latter had been casting an eager look for some time to the north-west.

"We shall have it soon, sir," he observed, pointing with his hand.

"Turn the hands up, Mr Windy, and trim sails," said the captain in a cheerful voice. "See there, gentlemen, those clouds yonder are the pleasantest sight I have seen for many days." A low bank of clouds could be observed resting on the horizon. It grew higher and higher every instant, while a dark line could be seen extending across the ocean in the same direction. The sea, however, continued as calm as before; around the ship not a ripple could be seen on its surface. The crew, hurrying from below, went to their stations, all eyes being turned in the direction of the approaching clouds. Presently cats'-paws began to play over the mirror-like expanse, and then to disappear; the sails slowly bulged out, and speedily again hung down as listlessly as before against the masts. The dark line grew brighter and brighter; presently the loftier sails swelled out, and the ship began to glide smoothly over the ocean. The joyful news was communicated below, and all who were not in their beds came up on deck. The ship, at length feeling the power of the helm, was put before the wind. The dark line now increased gradually in width, and seemed covered with sparkling foam; a rushing noise was heard; in another instant almost the aspect of the whole ocean was changed; the sails bulged out steadily; waves, at first but small, danced up astern, and on either side their crests hissing and foaming, while the spray in broad sheets flew off from their summits. Now the stout ship dashed forward, every instant increasing her speed, as if eager to make up for the time lost. On she went, faster and faster, rising to the seas, and plunging into them as they rolled around her.

The lighter sails were taken in. A strong gale was blowing--it was increasing too. The clouds now rapidly gathered in dense ma.s.ses across the sky; the seamen were busy in all directions securing the boats, the spars, and other articles. .h.i.therto left about the deck.

"We shall have a heavy gale, gentlemen, before long," observed the captain, in answer to Mr Paget's and Charles' inquiries respecting the weather. "It's what I have been wishing for, as nothing else is likely to clear us of this terrible fever." Before night his predictions were verified, and the ship, under close-reefed topsails, was running on at the rate of twelve knots or more an hour.

Emily and May found it far more difficult to attend to their charges than during the calm; but they still persevered; and though it was very hot between-decks, yet the sick people felt sensibly the change which had occurred in the atmosphere.

For several days the "Crusader" ran on before the gale; sometimes, indeed, the wind blew so hard, and the ship rolled and tossed and tumbled about so much, that many wished the calm back again. One night the thunder roared and rattled overhead with crashing peals; bright lightning darted from the skies. All hands were on deck, for it was impossible to say what might next occur. The masts strained and cracked, and it seemed every instant that the canvas would be blown out of the boltropes. The dark seas came rolling up astern, their crests hissing and foaming, threatening to break over the p.o.o.p. Several of the gentlemen pa.s.sengers were collected on deck. Suddenly a voice was heard, exclaiming in a tone of terror, "What is that? Oh mercy, mercy!"

They looked aloft; at the end of the yardarm was a ma.s.s of bluish light like a small globe. Charles saw Job Mawson standing not far off; his knees were knocking together, his arms outstretched. Presently the light began to move, and suddenly it appeared at the mainmast head; there it remained stationary for some time.

"What is it?" exclaimed Job Mawson. "Oh, captain, do make it go away!"

"It is nothing very terrible," answered Bill Windy, who overheard him.

"We might easily box up that fellow, if it were worth while to go aloft and catch him."

"Let no one make the attempt," said the captain. "I must not have you, Mr Windy, or the men, risk your lives to catch a jack-o'-lantern. I hope it's a sign that the gale is breaking, and that we shall have moderate weather again before long."

Job Mawson did not appear as satisfied with this explanation of the captain's as the rest of the pa.s.sengers; he continued watching the light with a terror-stricken glance, as if he expected something dreadful was about to happen. At length, now travelling to one mast-head, now to the other, and back again to the yardarm, it finally disappeared. The wind, however, continued blowing for some time as hard as ever. When morning broke, it had somewhat moderated, and as the day wore on, a strong breeze only was blowing. The sea, notwithstanding this, continued as high as ever, and consequently the ship rolled and tumbled about fully as much as before. The captain, who had been on deck all the night and a great part of the forenoon, at length retired to his berth.

Bill Windy had the watch, Charles was standing near him.

"What do you think of the weather now?" he asked.

"Can't say that I think it settled yet," answered Bill. "There's a stormy look away there to the nor'ard, but the captain ordered me to shake the reefs out of the topsails if it grows no worse; though, to my mind, we shall have to take them in again before nightfall."

Bill took a turn on deck, then ordered the hands aloft to shake out the reefs. The topsails were sheeted home; the ship felt the fresh impulse given to her, and went bounding on over the tossing ocean. The mate walked the deck keeping a watchful eye to windward.

"I don't know what to make of it, Mr Dicey," he observed to Charles.

"It is always well to take a reef in in good time, and better seamanship, too, to my mind, than to wait till the squall is down upon one. Still, we have lost so much time in that calm that it won't do to be shortening sail before it is necessary. The surgeon, too, wishes the captain, unless the sickness abates, to put into the Cape, that the people may be landed and the ship fumigated."

"I am thankful to hear that," said Charles; "a few days on sh.o.r.e may, I hope, restore all to health."

Although no deaths had occurred for several days, a considerable number of the people still remained on the sick list, many of the cases being very severe. Even to people in health, the steerage of an emigrant ship is not a desirable place, especially in a hot climate; and now the poor sufferers were not only confined below with closed hatches, but the ship was tumbling and rolling fearfully about, the masts were groaning, the bulk-heads creaking, the stamping of feet was heard overhead, the waves were constantly dashing against the sides, while now and then came the heavy blow of a sea, as it fell on board and deluged the decks.

Bill Windy and Charles had continued their walk for some time, when the mate, looking to windward, exclaimed, "It's high time to shorten sail, or we shall have the masts whipped out of the ship. Boy, call the captain! Hands aloft--two reefs in the topsails." The crew were running up the rigging, when Captain Westerway made his appearance. The men quickly laid out on the yards, and were busily employed in gathering up the sails. An active young topman, whom Charles had seen just before laughing and joking with his shipmates, was on the lee-yardarm; while, with earing in hand, he was pa.s.sing the point through the cringle, the ship gave a heavy lurch, he lost his hold, and was jerked off the yard.

For an instant he was seen hanging on to the earing; but it would have required superhuman strength to maintain his hold with the ship pitching and rolling as she was doing; in another moment he fell headlong into the foaming sea. Scarcely had he touched the water when Bill Windy ran to the falls of the lifeboat on the starboard side, crying out for volunteers. Charles followed him. The most active men were aloft; but several gathered at the falls. The captain took the helm, relieving the man at the wheel, who hurried to a.s.sist the mate. Bill, with three hands, was already in the boat. Charles leaped in also.

"You had better not, Mr Dicey," exclaimed Bill. "Get up the side again, and let another hand come. You don't know the danger you are running."

"Not more than you," answered Charles.

"It's my duty, sir," said Bill, "and not yours; do be advised by me."

Charles, however, was eager to go to the a.s.sistance of the young seaman.

There were in all six stout hands in the boat. The lifebuoy had been let go. Some time pa.s.sed before the seaman saw it; at last he made towards it, but his strength seemed insufficient to buffet with that rough sea. The attention of most on board was for the moment engaged rather with the boat endeavouring to carry help to the drowning man than to the man himself. The greater number of the crew, too, were occupied in handing the sails. This task had to be accomplished before the ship could be brought to. That was itself a manoeuvre of no small danger, yet the sea was not sufficiently high, nor the wind too strong, to make it altogether impracticable. The boat at length got clear off, and pulled away in the direction the man had last been seen, Mr Paget and other pa.s.sengers pointing with their hands to guide them. Charles seized an oar--there were only four in the boat; the mate took the helm.

They had not pulled far when one of the oars broke. This was seen from the ship. Mr Paget observed that the boat had rapidly dropped a long way to leeward. While he was watching her, a huge wave rose up between her and the ship. He looked anxiously, expecting to see her on the crest of the sea. She was nowhere visible. It was some time before another hand came aft to the helm to relieve the captain. The second and third mates were forward. Not a seaman had been able to keep his eye upon the boat. Mr Paget, however, felt sure he knew where she could be found. The captain was now able to look about for her. Mr Paget told him his fears.

"I am afraid you are right, sir," he said, after he had continued for some time looking out all around.

"The boat has been swamped. I have no doubt about it." Mr Paget's heart sank within him at these words; he had formed a sincere regard for Charles Dicey; he felt still more for the poor girls who were thus deprived of their brother.

"I hoped better things of that boat," observed the captain; "but a very heavy sea is running even for her. Poor fellows, I would to heaven this had not happened. Still she may have escaped."