The White Squall Part 31

Then, the mainmast was slung just about its balancing centre and hauled inboard through the broken bulwarks--which had not yet been restored on purpose until all the spars were hoisted in.

The falls were now again manned; and, the sailors heaving away with one of their animating choruses, up went the spar in the air above the vacant hole in the deck from where the old part of the heel had been removed--guys being belayed on either side to make it drop in true when it was right over the place for its reception.

It did not take long to fix it now perpendicularly; although, as the spar had been severed some feet from the deck, the new end of it was more slender than the old, and so required packing round with pieces of wood driven in by mallets to make it secure.

Next, the standing rigging was set up after being first shortened; and Adze had a good deal of blacksmith's work to do in making fresh bolts and eyes, converting Cuffee's galley into a temporary forge for this purpose. All the ropes and blocks having been carefully collected beforehand and sorted, this labour did not consume half the time that one would have thought.

On the fifth day, the mizzen-mast was also got back into its place.

Then the yards were crossed and sails bent on the mainmast; and the _Josephine_ appeared to show nearly as much top-hamper as she did before the gale, only that all the masts were much shorter than before, the foremast especially being only an apology for the former spar.

However, the change made a wonderful improvement in the appearance of the ship; and when the broken bulwarks were patched up, which was done on the last day of the week, she was herself again.

On the Sunday that followed the righting of the ship we had our prayers on the p.o.o.p as usual, Captain Miles returning especial thanks to the great Ruler of the deep for all the mercies we had received; and, as a fair wind sprung up in the evening of the same day from the south, we set sail once more, moving away from the spot where we had been refitting.

"I don't think," said Captain Miles, "that we've drifted twenty miles either way since this day week; for there's no current hereabout, and we've had little or no wind."

"We're then still about the centre of the Sarga.s.so Sea," observed Mr Marline.

"Aye," responded the other; "so Master Tom will have ample opportunities within the next fortnight or so for studying all you told him about the Gulf-weed, for I've no doubt we'll presently pa.s.s through lots of it."

"Shall you shape a straight course for the Channel, sir?" asked the first mate, looking at his watch as he did so in a very self-satisfied sort of way, it seemed.

"You may well observe that time-piece of yours carefully," said the captain with a sigh, although he smiled as he spoke. "On that little article depends all our navigation--that is, until we meet with some pa.s.sing vessel to correct our reckoning, and I don't suppose we shall come across many of these, for we're out of the track of all voyaging over this part of the Atlantic save those homeward-bound from the Cape.

I intend to make for Flores, the westernmost island of the Azores, as we're short of water; besides, by my pursuing that course we shall get up into the trades, and bye and bye fetch the Gulf Stream, which will render our pa.s.sage shorter to the Channel."

"Very well, we'll see," said Mr Marline, unconsciously using his old stereotyped form of answer to almost everything.

"I believe," cried Captain Miles laughing, "that if anybody asked you to accept a thousand pounds you'd reply, 'I'll see about it!'"

"You just try me and see," replied the first mate drily to this remark, joining in the captain's laugh; but I noticed that the other did not take up the offer.

Through our detention by the calm, in addition to the scurrying to and fro we had during the hurricane and the long time we remained a helpless log on the waters, it was now considerably more than two months since we had left the West Indies; and, as the _Josephine_ did not sail so well now, besides having light and variable winds, it took us more than another fortnight to reach Flores and sight the Morro Grande--a mountain some three thousand feet in height, rising high in the clouds above Santa Cruz, the capital of the island.

But, for days before this, we sailed through that wonderful Sarga.s.so Sea, the circ.u.mstances of whose being Mr Marline had explained to me during the fearful night we pa.s.sed clinging to the capsized hull of the ship, exposed to the cruel wash of the pitiless waves; and, as we ploughed over this submerged meadow of sea-weed in the centre of the Atlantic, I could not help recalling the mangrove swamps and lagoons of the tropic island in which my childhood had been pa.s.sed, wondering the while, too, whether the _Josephine_ would not be reported as lost through the protraction of her voyage--for she was expected to reach England by the middle of September at the latest, and it was now October.

Why, if news came to Grenada that we were given up at Lloyd's, poor dad and mother would be in a terrible way about me, I knew!

The day of the receipt of such intelligence would be a sad one at Mount Pleasant, where all had loved me and would miss me now more than ever.

These thoughts, however, were but idle fancies, I reflected when we sighted Flores; for, even if we had been given up, the news would now soon be sent on that the old ship was still to the fore. So, when Captain Miles had taken in fresh water and provisions, besides buying a new chronometer, and then shaped a course direct for the English Channel, I looked forward anxiously to relieving my parent's anxiety as much as I did at the realisation of my boyhood's dream of seeing London and going to school.

CHAPTER NINETEEN.

DAD.

My tale will soon come to an end.

After leaving Santa Cruz, we had a fine steady wind from the north-west, right on our quarter, all the way to the chops of the Channel; and this enabled us to accomplish the intervening twelve hundred miles of distance in ten days' time.

We were equally lucky in getting up to the river, although it was well on in the month of October, when easterly winds generally prevail; for, without requiring the a.s.sistance of a tug, after making the Lizard, we pa.s.sed up towards London in fine style, walking at a great rate by Dunnose, Beachy Head, Dungeness, and all those other landmarks that mariners know so well.

When we got to Gravesend, I had a great surprise; for, who on earth do you think should come off to the ship as we anch.o.r.ed in the stream, waiting for a pilot to take us up the river to the Saint Katherine's Docks, where we were bound? The very last person in the world whom you or I could possibly have expected to meet me there!

Who do you think?

Why, dad!

Yes--he; and none other.

It seems that shortly after I sailed in the _Josephine_, the gentleman who had made him an offer to purchase Mount Pleasant when I was ill--and then backed out of the bargain because dad would not immediately come to terms--renewed the proposal, and dad accepted at once.

Then, as he had nothing remaining to keep him out in the West Indies, he took pa.s.sages in the next mail steamer home for my mother and my sisters and himself, arriving over here even before I could have expected to reach England had all gone well with our ship.

When they got to London, however, news came from Lloyd's that the _Josephine_ was lost, as our boats, which had been swept away in the hurricane, had been picked up by a homeward-bound ship.

Needless to say, dad and all my folk were heart-broken at hearing this.

Hardly, however, had they become reconciled to my death, as they thought, than a fresh piece of intelligence was pa.s.sed on from Flores, narrating how we had touched there, all well on board; so, as soon as we were reported as being sighted in the Channel, dad was on the watch to be the first to greet me, coming down specially to Gravesend to board the ship as soon as she entered the river.

I need not describe the meeting with dad in the first place, nor the way in which my mother and sisters, dear little Tot included, welcomed me?

Hardly!

Jake must have the last word, though; for, it was only through his faithfulness that I had been preserved during all our perils on the sea.

You must remember that, not only did he save me from drowning in the first instance, when the vessel capsized; but, it was mainly through his watchful attentions that my life was saved during the time that I was exposed on the hull of the ship while she was on her beam-ends.

"Golly, Ma.s.sa Eastman," he cried out to dad the moment he put foot on board the _Josephine_, "I'se look arter Ma.s.s' Tom, as I promiss, suah, and here he am, sah, safe an' sound!"

So I was; but, in spite of that, I have never forgotten my experiences of the Sarga.s.so Sea, nor The White Squall.

THE END.