Turned Adrift Part 4

"Do ye see her, Mr Temple, sir?"

"Ay, I do," I answered, as I caught sight of a faint pearly gleam afar off on the north-eastern horizon. "Mr Cunningham, will you kindly lend me your telescope for a moment?"

"Certainly, with pleasure," answered Cunningham, producing the instrument from his pocket. It was not a very big affair, being only about six inches long by perhaps an inch and a half in diameter, but it was a three-draw tube, measuring about one foot nine inches long when fully extended, and, for its size, was the most splendid instrument I had ever used. I quickly brought it to bear upon the distant gleam, which the lenses instantly resolved into the heads of the fore and main royals of a craft--either a barque or a brig--standing to the southward.

When I had finished with the instrument the boatswain took a squint through it, and after him the carpenter and the sailmaker; and when they had had their turn Cunningham applied it to his eye. As the boatswain pa.s.sed the telescope over to Chips he turned to me eagerly and looked at me hard with _so_ expressive an eye that I instantly read what was in his mind. I shook my head.

"We could never do it, Murdock," I said. "She's too far to the south'ard. Had she borne three, or even a couple of points farther to the nor'ard I might have felt inclined to risk it; but--"

"What are you talking about?" demanded Cunningham. "Is it a question of whether we can or cannot intercept that ship? Because if it is, I am most emphatically in favour of our making the attempt. Mind you, I do not say that we can actually intercept her; but I believe we might manage to get close enough to her to be seen, for she is almost certain to have a man or two aloft at work upon her rigging."

"Yes, ye're right, Mr Cunnin'ham; that's exactly my notion," eagerly agreed the boatswain. "I believe that by runnin' away off in about this here direction," pointing away toward the south--east, "we ought to lift her pretty nigh to her rail by the time that she draws up abreast of us; and if we can do that we stands a very good chance of bein' seen. I haven't no great faith in our prospec's of fetchin' Rio; and if we gets half a chance of bein' picked up by a ship, we ought to take it.

Moreover than that, I don't like the look of the weather none too well; and I'd a deal rather spend the comin' night aboard that ship than in this here gig."

There was certainly good, sound reason and common sense in Murdock's words, and particularly in what he said about the weather; so I turned to the carpenter, to ascertain his view of the matter.

"What do you say, Chips?" I asked. "Are you of opinion that we shall be justified in losing ten or fifteen miles of ground upon the off-chance of being able to close with yonder craft near enough to be seen?"

"Why, yes, Mr Temple, I certainly am," answered Chips. "I won't go so far as to say that we'll be actually able to manage it; but I think it's our dooty to have a good try for it. I'm like the bos'n, I've got a sort of feelin' that we ain't goin' to fetch Rio this trip--"

"All right, then," I said; "you three const.i.tute the majority, even if Sails happens to think as I do--"

"Ah, but I don't, Mr Temple!" interrupted Simpson. "I agrees with the bos'n--"

"Then round we go," I interrupted in my turn; and, putting the helm hard up, I bore away, the sail jibed over, and off we went almost dead before the wind, heading about south-east, and bringing the stranger about a point and a half abaft our port beam.

Sailing before the wind was a very different matter from plugging to windward with the sheet flattened well in, and although our shift of helm had the effect of making it seem that the wind had suddenly died away almost to nothing, there was no longer that heart-breaking smack-smack of the small seas against our weather bow which had seemed to r.e.t.a.r.d our way in such an exasperating fashion. On the contrary, with the sheet eased well off and the lug boomed out with the boathook so that the yard swung square across the length of the boat, we went sliding smoothly away to leeward with a long, easy, buoyant motion, a pleasant, musical gurgling of water along our bottom planking, and a swift gliding past us of tiny air bubbles and occasional morsels of weed that told us we were now travelling at the rate of quite four knots.

For the first half-hour the stranger did not appreciably alter her bearing relative to the boat, which seemed to indicate that we were practically holding our own with her, and our hopes soared high, especially as within that brief period we had raised her royals and the heads of her topgallantsails above the horizon. But when this latter circ.u.mstance enabled us to see that she had her starboard topgallant studdingsails set, my enthusiasm flagged again, for I argued that she must be a slow-coach indeed if, with the breeze then blowing and studdingsails set, she could not do any better than four knots. I held my peace, however, for there was no use in damping the hopes of the others, while there was always the possibility that if any of her hands happened to be employed aloft, the eye of one or another of them might chance upon our sail, which, small though it was, ought to be perfectly visible at a distance of five or six miles, even in that somewhat hazy atmosphere. But by the end of the first hour after we had begun our chase it became apparent that she had the heels of us, for although we were still steering exactly the same course as at first, she had drawn up square abeam of us. And there it was imperatively necessary that we should keep her if we did not wish her to slip past us, even although the keeping of her there should entail upon us the necessity to edge gradually away, thus bringing our own course ever more nearly parallel to hers, instead of causing the two steadily to converge. Then, about the end of the second hour of the chase, by which time we had lifted the stranger's main topsail-yard above the horizon, and had discovered that she was barque-rigged, the breeze suddenly freshened up sufficiently to add an extra knot and a half to our speed. But this was a misfortune rather than otherwise for us: for although it increased our speed, it also increased that of the stranger, when it reached her, which it did about ten minutes later; and whereas it added only about a knot and a half to our rate of travel, it probably quickened up her pace by more than double that amount, as was painfully apparent from the increased frequency with which we were obliged to edge away to keep her square abeam. And now the anxiety which I had all along felt began to be shared by the others, one or another of whom kept Cunningham's telescope continually bearing upon the barque. They began to fidget where they sat, to mutter and grumble under their breath, and to cast frequent looks at the sky astern, which had not materially altered its aspect since the morning, except that the haze had thickened somewhat. At last the boatswain could restrain himself no longer.

"If this here humbuggin' breeze'd only drop," he grumbled, "we'd out oars and pull to her. But it ain't goin' to drop, that's the worst of it, it's agoin' to freshen still furder; and that cussed old hooker's goin' to run away from us, that's what she's agoin' to do. Let's have a look at that there gla.s.s again, Mr Cunnin'ham," he continued. "I can't make out what they're a-thinkin' about aboard her. It's fine weather, and surely there ought to be some work to be done aloft." Here he got the telescope to bear upon her for at least the tenth time since the chase had begun, and relapsed into temporary silence, while he subjected every visible part of her to a most searching scrutiny. Presently he resumed, with animation: "Ah! I thought it'd be strange if her bos'n couldn't find somethin' that wanted doin' aloft in such fine weather as this. Just you take this here gla.s.s, Mr Temple--Chips'll catch hold of the tiller for a minute or two--and see if there ain't a man sittin'

astride of her weather main tawps'l-yardarm doin' somethin' or other."

I handed over the tiller to Chips, took the telescope, and raised the eyepiece to my eye. Instantly I had a small but exquisitely clear picture of the three masts of the distant barque, from the level of the second reef-band of her main topsail upward, with every rope and piece of rigging and gear, even to the reef-points of the topsail, rising and falling upon the horizon line with the lift of the ship upon the swell.

And there, sure enough, at the point named by the boatswain, but tucked away in the shadow of the weather clew of the topgallantsail, so that it was not very easy to make him out, I saw what I certainly took to be the figure of a man. And that the boatswain and I were not mistaken presently became apparent, for, while I still looked, the fellow leisurely swung himself on to the foot rope and began to lay in along the yard.

"Quick!" I exclaimed, "we must attract his attention somehow, for he has finished his job and is laying in off the yard. Off with your jacket, Sails, and jump up on the thwart and wave it for all you are worth!"

The sailmaker tore off his white canvas jacket, and, grasping it by one arm, sprang up on the mast thwart and waved it furiously, while I kept the telescope focused upon the slowly moving figure of the distant seaman. But the man worked his way steadily in, swung himself off the yard to the topmast rigging, and, with the merchant sailor's usual deliberation, descended until he vanished below the horizon line, seemingly without giving a single glance at the widespreading surface of sea that stretched away for miles on either side of him.

"That will do, Sails," I said; "you may belay your flourishing, and get down off the thwart. That sh.e.l.lback has gone down on deck without so much as a glance in our direction."

"Laid down, have he, without stoppin' so much as to take a look round?"

snarled the boatswain savagely, dashing his clenched fist down on the gunwale. "I'll be jiggered if I can understan' what's comin' to the sailorman as sails these here seas. Fust there was that there Portugee, as went past without stoppin' to pick us up, although they see'd us, and must 'ave knowed that we was castaways; and now here's this here bloomin' barque, manned by chaps as don't seem to think it worth while to give a look round while they're aloft, to see whether there's any poor sailormen washin' about in distress. But she ain't British, I'll take my Bible oath o' that; the British sh.e.l.lback don't do that there sort o' thing. Why, when I first went to sea we was never ordered aloft but what the skipper used to say: 'Take a good look round, men, afore you comes down again. We never knows when we may be pa.s.sin' within sight of some poor unfortunate, perishin' of hunger and thirst, and prayin' to be sighted and picked up!'"

"Well," said I, "I am afraid it is all up with us, so far as that barque is concerned. Nevertheless, we will stick to her as long as she remains in sight. Another hand may be sent aloft aboard her before she disappears; or the wind may drop--although I confess I see no sign of it at present. And in any case it is comforting, in a way, to know that we are in the track of the south-bound ships; we are certain to sight others within the next day or two, and it will be pretty poor luck if we cannot intercept one or another of them."

But although I spoke so confidently I am afraid that I was not very successful in cheering up my companions in misfortune. This second disappointment was producing its effect upon them; they were becoming depressed and pessimistic; and although they all agreed that the proper thing to do was to hang on to the distant barque, in the hope of eventually attracting the attention of somebody aboard her, I could see that we were all fully convinced that the attempt would result in failure.

And so it did. We chased that barque until the sun set and the shades of night hid her from our sight; and although about mid-afternoon we got so close to her that her lower yards showed above the horizon when she lifted on the swell, and kept the telescope bearing upon her all the time, no more hands were sent aloft, and as the afternoon progressed she steadily drew away from us again, until when at length we lost sight of her in the gathering darkness only her royals and the upper halves of her topgallantsails were showing above the horizon. And all this time so absorbed were we in the chase that we were scarcely conscious of the fact that the wind was steadily freshening every minute, the result being that, when at length we were compelled to abandon the hope of being seen and picked up, we suddenly awoke to the fact that it was blowing quite a strong breeze, and that it had kicked up such a high, steep sea that it was no longer possible for us to round-to and ride to a sea anchor as we had done on the night but one before. We were therefore obliged to scud before the wind all night under whole canvas, to avoid being p.o.o.ped and swamped by the breaking seas that remorselessly chased us.

That was a hara.s.sing, anxious night for all hands of us, for by midnight it was blowing what is generally termed a fresh gale, that is, a breeze strong enough to compel a ship of, say, a thousand tons to reduce canvas to single-reefed topsails; and that, to us, in a small open boat, was about equivalent to what a hurricane would be to the bigger craft.

There was no sleep for any of us, for we were in constant, imminent danger, and it taxed the resources of all hands to their utmost limit all through the night to keep the boat from being overwhelmed. The chief danger to an open boat under such circ.u.mstances arises from the fact that, lying so low in the water as she does, her sail becomes becalmed every time that she settles into the trough of a sea, and she gradually loses way. Then, as she is hove up on the breast of the next following sea, her sail suddenly fills again, and those in her have to be careful that, in filling, it does not jibe over, for if it did so it would certainly capsize the boat. But in guarding against that danger another of equal magnitude is incurred, for unless the boat is kept dead stern-on to the sea the chances are that she will broach-to and be filled by the breaking head of the sea when it overtakes her. When it comes to be remembered that this twofold peril threatens an open boat about twice a minute hour after hour, as long as the gale continues, some faint idea may be gained of the anxiety and discomfort we were called upon to endure on the occasion which I am now attempting to describe. And while the anxiety of all is sufficiently acute, the man who is most worried is the one who is at the helm, for the behaviour of a craft under such circ.u.mstances is in one respect distinctly and hara.s.singly peculiar: at the most perilous moment of all, which is the moment before she is actually overtaken by the breaking crest of the wave, she is apt to refuse to answer her helm, and he who is steering her loses all control over her; she seems to be seized with a perverse determination to take a broad sheer one way or the other, with disastrous results, despite a hard-over helm, and then the only thing to be done to retrieve the situation is to effect a lightning shift of helm against all your past experience and your better judgment. But notwithstanding this, it generally has the desired effect, the reason commonly a.s.signed being that, contrary to what is usually supposed, the body of water const.i.tuting the head of a sea actually has a quick forward motion, and when this overtakes a craft, large or small, which is only beginning to gather fresh headway, the result is practically the same as though she were going astern instead of ahead, and the helm must be manipulated accordingly. Whether this is really the true explanation of the curiously awkward phenomenon of which I have spoken I cannot say; but I know that the phenomenon occurs, and that it placed us in the direst peril at least half a hundred times during that never-to-be-forgotten night, a peril from which, it appeared to me, we each time escaped by the very skin of our teeth, and by what seemed to be nothing short of a series of miracles. True, we are told that the days of miracles are long past; but, after all, who knows?

CHAPTER FIVE.

THE "MARTHA BROWN" OF BALTIMORE.

All through the night, and until nearly noon next day, were we compelled to continue scudding before the gale; and a pretty crew of scarecrows we looked when the morning at length dawned and disclosed us to each other's vision, drenched to the skin with flying spray, haggard and red-eyed with fatigue and the want of sleep, and each wearing that peculiar and indescribable expression of countenance that marks the man who has been face to face for hours with imminent death. But about four bells in the forenoon watch the gale suddenly broke, the sky cleared, and the wind moderated so rapidly that just before noon, by carefully watching our opportunity, we were at length able to round-to and once more ride to our makeshift sea anchor. Then, the boat riding dry--that is to say, shipping no water--we baled her out, and next proceeded to overhaul our stock of provisions, with the object of ascertaining what damage, if any, it had sustained through the constant drenching of the seas to which we had been exposed. Our bread--or biscuit--and water were all that we were really anxious about, the remainder being packed in tins, jars, or bottles, and it was a great relief to us to find that, thanks to the precautions which we had taken, nothing had suffered to any very serious extent.

Then I went to work to calculate our position as nearly as I could, although the roughness of my data rendered it exceedingly difficult to arrive anywhere near the mark; but at length, by patient and careful figuring, I reached the exceedingly unsatisfactory conclusion that not only had we lost all the ground previously gained, but we were somewhere about thirty miles south of the spot where Bainbridge had sent us adrift!

And then our thoughts turned to the longboat, and we began to ask ourselves and each other how she had fared. We were still afloat, it is true, but only because of our long-continued and almost superhuman exertions, while our boat was an exceptionally good one and by no means overloaded. How it would be with our consort, overcrowded with helpless, terror-stricken women and children, and perilously deep in the water, we scarcely dared to think; for, with the recollection of what we had recently pa.s.sed through still vivid in our minds, we had little difficulty in conjuring up a very graphic picture of what would be the state of affairs aboard the longboat under the same circ.u.mstances. Of course there was the possibility that, more fortunate than ourselves, she had been seen and her party rescued by a pa.s.sing ship; but, failing that, we felt that we dared not entertain the slightest hope that she still survived. No good end, however, was to be served by speculating upon the possibilities of disaster to our friends. We therefore proceeded to get a meal as soon as we had straightened up matters as far as was possible; and while we ate and drank we discussed the important question of what we should do next. Our recent experiences had been of such a character as to convince us that our prospects of reaching Rio before our stock of provisions should be consumed--if ever--were exceedingly slight. On the other hand, we had already had ocular demonstration of the fact that we were not far from the track of south-bound craft; we therefore eventually arrived unanimously at the conclusion that, taking all things into consideration, the best thing we could do was to cruise to the northward, in the hope that within the next few days we should be fortunate enough to fall in with some vessel the skipper of which would be humane enough to pick us up and perhaps land us at the nearest port.

It was so near sunset before the sea moderated sufficiently to enable us again to make sail that we ultimately determined to remain as we were, riding to our sea anchor all night, in order that all hands might have the opportunity to secure a good night's rest before resuming our battle with wind and sea. For after all, now that we had definitely abandoned the idea of attempting to make Rio, or indeed any part of the South American coast, it did not greatly matter whether we were under way or not; a ship was just as likely to come along and find us where we then were as anywhere else. And although we had resolved to take a night's rest before resuming our struggle, we of course intended to keep an anchor watch of one hand, who would look after the weather and the boat and also otherwise maintain a sharp lookout, so that, in the event of a sail heaving in sight, she should not be permitted to slip past us without an effort on our part to intercept her.

The night pa.s.sed uneventfully, wind and sea gradually moderating all through the hours of darkness, until, by the dawn of the following day, both had so far gone down that we could once more make sail upon the gig with perfect safety. It is true that there was still a rather heavy swell running, but even that was fast diminishing, and there was no sea to speak of, the wind being of the strength known to sailors as a "royal" breeze, that is to say, a wind of so moderate a force that a ship of ordinary size could show her royals to it.

The sailmaker's watch ended a few minutes after sunrise, and when he called the rest of us our first business was to wash the sleep out of our eyes by dipping our heads into a bucket of clear, sparkling salt water, dipped up from over the side; after which we proceeded to perform our toilets as well as our very limited resources permitted, the next thing in order being breakfast. And while this was being prepared--the preparation consisting merely in the apportioning to each individual of his just and proper allowance of food--Simpson shinned up to the masthead to take a look round the horizon, and thus enable us to get the earliest possible intimation of the approach of a ship, should one chance to be in our neighbourhood.

The man had scarcely reached his perch--which, after all, was only about six feet above our heads when we stood up--when he emitted a joyous yell of:

"Sail ho! Hurrah, my bullies, here she comes, pretty nigh straight down for us, if these eyes of mine ain't deceivin' of me!"

"What do you make her out to be, Sails?" I demanded.

"Can't tell yet, sir," answered Simpson. "All as I can see just at present is the head of a--well, it may be a royal, or it may be the head of the to'garns'l of a schooner. And I'm inclined to think it's a schooner, because it looks sharp and clear like, as though it wasn't so very far off. Yes, I reckon that there blessed bit of white ain't much more'n ten mile away."

"And how does she bear?" I asked.

"Dead to wind'ard as ever she can be," was the cheering reply. "And headin' for us just as straight as she can come. Hurrah, my buckos!

There's no mistake about it this time; she's boun' to pick us up, unless she happens to be another of them there puddin'-headed Portugees what don't seem to believe in pickin' up pore shipwrecked mariners," Sails ended, with a sudden note of disgust in his voice.

"Portugee or no Portugee, she will pick us up; I'll see to that," said I. "We'll not give her the chance to refuse; we'll just lie doggo where we are until she is within a mile or two of us, and then we'll up lug and run her aboard, whether her people like it or not."

"Ay, ay, that's your sort, Mr Temple," agreed the boatswain. "No more slippin' past and wavin' hands for me; if they don't want to pick us up, we'll just have to make 'em, that's all. I've had enough of boat sailin' to last me for the rest of me bloomin' life, and enough of sleepin' on thwarts, too. I means to sleep in a dry fo'c'sle to-night in spite of all the Portugee swines in creation."

"All right, Simpson," I hailed. "You had better come down now and get your breakfast. By the time that we have finished, yonder craft will be visible to all of us, and then we shall be able to judge what is best to be done."

We made a good hearty breakfast that morning, both eating and drinking a little more than our strict allowance, I am afraid, for we all seemed to be possessed of the same undoubted conviction that, with the appearance of the stranger to windward, our troubles were now all over, and that therefore the necessity to husband our limited resources carefully no longer existed.

The strange sail appeared to be a fairly fast craft, for before we had quite finished our breakfast the head of her canvas appeared above the horizon to us, even though we were still sitting upon the thwarts, and we immediately brought Cunningham's telescope to bear upon her. The first glimpse that I caught of her through the lenses satisfied me that she was a small vessel, the quickness and violence of her movements--for she was rolling heavily--bearing unmistakable evidence of that fact; and ten minutes later we discovered her to be topsail-schooner rigged. She was evidently making the utmost of the fair wind, for she had topmast and lower studdingsails set on both sides; and she was coming dead down the wind direct for us. We waited patiently where we were until she had risen hull-up, revealing herself through the telescope as a very handsome, smart-looking little schooner, with very white sails, which looked as though made of cotton canvas; and then we got our sea anchor inboard, cast the oars adrift in readiness for instant use should we need them, and got under way, working the boat to and fro in short tacks immediately athwart the schooner's hawse, while Simpson stood on a thwart to windward, waving a rag to attract attention, the boatswain meanwhile keeping the telescope steadfastly bearing upon the approaching craft.

We had just tacked for the second time when Murdock, with his eyes still glued to the telescope, shouted:

"They see us! they see us! There's a couple of chaps standin' by her starboard cathead lookin' at us under the sharp of their hands. And now one of 'em has turned round and is looking aft; he's reportin' of us to the hofficer of the watch, he is--I can see him hollerin' with one hand to the side of his mouth while he p'ints with the other. Yes; and now there's another chap runnin' for'ard to join the first two; he'll be the mate, I reckon--or p'rhaps the skipper. And now the third man's lookin'

at us too. Keep on wavin', Sails; don't let there be no mistake about what we wants. The third man's runnin' aft again. He's goin' to call the Old Man, I reckon." A pause of about half a minute ensued, and then the boatswain resumed: