"Hold on for your lives," shouted the captain as a huge wave, dimly seen
through the gloom of night, rolled on towards us. It broke with fearful
force against the ship, washed several of our poor fellows overboard
whose shrieks were heard as they were carried away to leeward. It threw
her on her beam ends, and drove her farther on the reef, and with a
crash all the masts fell together. Another and another sea followed and
lifted the ship over the reef, where the water was smoother.
"Out boats!" was the cry. "The ship is sinking."
Three of the boats were launched, not without great difficulty; the rest
were stove in by the falling masts. We had barely time to get into the
boats before the ship settled down till her weather bulwarks alone were
above water. We did not know if we were near land, and if near land
whether or not it was inhabited. We stayed in the boats near the
vessel, hoping that daylight would soon come to show us where we were,
and to enable us to get some provisions, if possible, out of her. It
came at last. No land was in sight; only reefs and coral rocks all
around, some above, some under the water.
We had no food in the boats, no water; our only hope was that the ship
would break up and things float out of her. Each sea which rolled in
shook her till it seemed that she must break to pieces. At last her
deck was burst up, and we thankfully picked up a cask of beef, another
of pork, and some flour and biscuit, and, what was of still more
consequence, three casks of water. These things were divided among the
boats. There was only one small boat-compass in the captain's boat. He
told us to keep close to him, and that he would soon take us to a land
where we should find all we wanted. With sad hearts the crew of the
whaler left the ship, and the product of their labours for so many
months. Bill and I were together with the second mate. We were
well-nigh ready to cry, for though we had not lost anything, we were
sorry for our shipmates, and we began to think that we should never get
home.
For three days the weather remained fine, but on the fourth, as the sun
went down, it came on to blow. The sea too got up, and it became very
dark. We kept the captain's boat in sight for some time, but she seemed
to be going ahead of us. On a sudden we lost sight of her. We pulled
on as hard as the heavy sea would let us to catch her up, but when
morning broke, neither of the other boats was to be seen. The sky was
overcast, we had no compass to steer by, the sea ran high, our stock of
provisions was low, our stock of water still lower. We were in a bad
way. There was no one to say, "Trust in God."
The mate was ill before the ship was cast away. He now lost all spirit,
and thought that his end was coming. He told us that we were still
nearly two hundred miles from land to the south-west of us, and
described the stars we should steer by. The next day he died, and two
other strong-looking men died within two days of him. The rest of them
thought that they should never reach land.
I said at last, "Let us trust in God. Let us pray that He will send us
help."
Two of the men answered that God did not care for such poor wretched
fellows as they were.
I said that I was sure He cared for everybody, and that He would hear us
if we prayed to Him, however poor and wretched we were. I only know
that I prayed as hard as ever I did, and Bill prayed too.
Two days more passed away. At night the stars came out, and we steered
the course the mate had given us. I was at the helm looking now at the
stars, now ahead, when I saw a dark object right before me.
It was a ship sailing across our course. I shouted loudly. The shout
roused those who were asleep. They all sprang to their oars, and pulled
away as hard as their remaining strength would allow, we all shouting at
the top of our voices. I saw the ship heave-to, and I burst into tears.
We were soon alongside, but without help we were too weak to get on
deck.
I heard voices I knew giving orders. Yes, there stood Captain Bolton on
the quarter-deck, and Mr Alder seeing to the boat being hoisted up.
Another person stood before me, watching the men helping us up, it was
Toby Potts. Now I felt sure that I was in a dream. Toby had been lost
so many months before on the other side of the Pacific. He did not know
either Bill or me. No one knew us. That made it still more like a
dream. I forgot how many months had passed by since we were on board
the _Rose_, and that we were well-nigh starved to death.
The captain came round as we sat on the deck, and spoke very kindly to
us, and told us that hammocks should be got ready, and that we should
have some food as soon as it could be warmed up.
"Don't you know me, Captain Bolton?" I asked as he came up to me.
He looked at me hard, as the light of the lantern fell on my face.
"What! Tom Trueman! I should say, if I didn't believe that he has long
ago been in another world," he exclaimed; "if it is Tom, I am right glad
to see you, lad. Tell me how you escaped death."
So I told him, and made Bill known, for he was in a fright, thinking
that we should be punished for leaving the beach without leave. It did
me good to see the pleasure the kind captain felt at finding that we
were alive.
By this time some warm turtle soup was brought us, and a little weak
brandy and water, and then we were carried below and put into hammocks.
It was not till the next day that I was certain I was not mistaken about
Toby Potts. He had floated on the very hencoop which I had thrown over
to him, till the next morning, when one of the ships which we had seen,
hove-to, passed close to him, and picked him up. That ship fell in with
the _Rose_ two or three weeks after we were supposed to have been lost,
and Toby was returned on board. The _Rose_ herself had suffered much
damage in a gale, and had put into harbour to repair; she had also been
some time in collecting sandal-wood, with which she was now on her way
to Canton. This accounted for our falling in with her, for I thought
that by this time she would have been far on her way home.
We had a fine passage to Canton, or rather to Whampoa, which is as far
up the river of Canton as ships go. The mouth of the river is known as
the Boca Tigris. The captain kindly took me to Canton; it is a most
curious city. On the river are thousands of boats, the greater number
not more than fourteen feet long, and twelve broad, and covered over
with a bamboo roof. In these whole families live from one end of the
year to the other, or rather from their births to their deaths. Then
there were junks as big as men of war, with huge, carved, green dragons
at their bows, and all sorts of coloured flags. But the most curious
sights are on shore. The city is surrounded by walls, and the houses
look as if they were cut out of coloured paper; the streets are so
narrow that only two sedan chairs can pass, and no wheel carriage enters
them. At each end of the street are gates, which are shut at night and
guarded by policemen. The shops are all open in front, and all sorts of
curious things are sold. The people themselves are odd looking, with
their black hair in long tails hanging down their backs, and their
yellow or blue silk coats, and wide trousers and slippers. The great
men walk about under big coloured umbrellas, or else are carried by two
men in a covered chair on poles. They are a very industrious,
hard-working people, and every inch of land in the country is
cultivated. Though they are so clever and neat-handed, and can do many
things as well as the English, yet they are idolaters. In their
churches, or pagodas as they are called, there are ugly images, which
they worship. They burn sandal-wood and bits of paper before them,
which they fancy is like saying their prayers. The chief thing produced
in the country is tea.
When we had landed the hides, seal-skins, and sandal-wood, which we had
brought, we took on board a cargo of tea, in chests. With this we
sailed for Sydney, New South Wales, as the captain calculated that we
should arrive there about the time that the wool produced in that colony
would be ready to ship to England. There are many dangers in the seas
between those two places. There are typhoons, which are strong, fierce
winds; and there are rocks and shoals; and there are pirates, mostly
Chinese or a people like them, who attack vessels, if they can take them
unawares, and rob them, and sometimes murder all on board. We escaped
all dangers, and arrived safely off Sydney harbour. We entered between
two high headlands into a large bay or lake, in which any number of
vessels might lie at anchor. The city of Sydney is a fine-looking
place, with towers, and churches, and large houses, and wide streets,
and carriages in great numbers driving about, and vessels of all sorts
lying alongside the quays, two or three landing emigrants just arrived
from England; and then there are huge warehouses close to the harbour.
Into one of them the tea we had brought was hoisted, and out of another
came the wool, in large packages, with which the _Rose_ was to be
freighted. What astonished me was to think that eighty years ago not a
white man was living in all that vast country, and now there are large
towns in all directions, and villages, and farms, and sheep-stations,
and thousands upon thousands of sheep, some of the wool from whose backs
we were now carrying home to be made up into all sorts of woollen goods
in our factories.
With cheerful voices we ran round the capstan as we weighed anchor, we
hoped to remain at our bows till we dropped it in the Mersey. The
whaler's people had left us at Hong Kong, at the mouth of the Canton
river. They said that we were too quiet for them.
I should like to tell of our voyage home, not that anything wonderful
happened. We continued sailing west till we arrived off the Cape of
Good Hope, and then we steered north, for Old England. We arrived at
Liverpool in two months and a half after leaving Sydney, and a little
more than two years from the time we sailed from England. Captain
Bolton called me into the cabin, and told me that he was so well pleased
with me that he would take me another voyage if I had a mind to go; but
that I might first go down into Dorsetshire to see mother and my
brothers and sisters, and friends. I thanked him very much, and said
that I should be very glad to sail with him, and that I hoped to be back
any day he would name.
Well, I got home, and there was mother, and Jane come home on purpose to
see me, and Sam, and Jack, and little Bill grown quite a big chap, and
all of them; and I blessed God, and was so happy. I had brought all
sorts of things from China for them, and others from the South Sea
Islands; and they were never tired of hearing of the wonders I had seen,
nor was I tired of telling of them.
Thus ended my first voyage; I have been many others, but this was the
happiest coming home of all.