A CHANGE OF WEATHER.
Walter could be of but little assistance on deck, owing to his ignorance
of nautical matters; yet in Jim's estimation he formed, as companion to
himself, a very important portion of the watch. Brave though the young
fisherman tried to appear, nothing short of actually saving his own life
would have tempted him to remain on the Bonita's quarter-deck alone in
the night; and even with an assistant it seemed necessary for him to
whistle very loud during several minutes after Bob and Harry disappeared
in the cabin before he had sufficient control over his voice to hide the
fear which came upon him.
Then he said in what was intended to be a cheery tone:
"Well, Walt, I reckon this is the last night we'll run dead before the
wind, unless it blows in our favor. By mornin' Bob oughter be strong
enough, if he keeps on eatin' same as he has to-day, to help work ship,
an' then the brig'll be headed toward home."
Walter sighed deeply. Just at that moment he was thinking of the loved
ones whom he knew must be mourning his absence, and the word "home"
caused such an uncomfortably big lump to rise in his throat that it was
impossible to make any reply.
Perhaps the same syllable sent Jim's thoughts straying in a similar
direction, for he began to whistle once more, and continued to do so
until a voice from the companion-way asked, in a querulous tone:
"What's the matter? Short-handed as we are, do you think it's goin' to
help out by havin' more wind!"
"It ain't blowin' any harder than it was when you went below," Jim
replied in surprise, understanding by the tone of the voice that it was
Bob Brace who had spoken.
"That's jes' why you wanter tie up the whistle. It'll bring a gale if
you keep on much longer!"
Then the sound of footsteps told that the speaker had returned to the
cabin, and Jim said, in a low tone, to Walter:
"Them old sailors are as full of whims as a dog is of fleas. Some of
them on the Mary Walker had signs for everything a feller did; but I
never saw any come true. Tom Downey, the mate, allers fussed when birds
flew 'round the schooner, 'cause he said they'd bring on a gale, an' in
a dead calm he'd either whistle or wish he had a cat to throw
overboard."
"What for?"
"So's to bring a wind. He says it'll allers come when you do that; but
of course its foolishness. Then again, if _I_ happened to whistle, no
matter how calm it was, I'd get a rope's endin' 'cause they think a boy
mustn't so much as squeak. If I'd believed Bob could hear me I'd know'd
enough to hold my tongue."
"Did you get whipped very often on the Mary?" Walter asked, with a mild
curiosity.
"More times than I've got fingers an' toes. Whenever any of 'em, from
the captain down to the cook, wanted something to do they'd stir me up,
an' it makes a feller dance when he gets a good stout heavin'-line
across his back; but I'd be willin' to take a pretty big dose of it if I
could be on board the old schooner just now."
There was no necessity for Walter to repeat this last sentiment. A
severe punishment from his father at that moment would have been a
positive pleasure. The lightest word in reference to home caused him to
realize more keenly each hour the distance between those whom he loved
and himself, and Jim's words seemed but the echo of his own thoughts.
During fully half an hour the two remained in silence at the wheel,
steering the brig through the darkness on a course indicated only by the
wind, and then the young fisherman was suddenly recalled from memories
of the Mary Walker to the Bonita.
The breeze was increasing perceptibly, and the moisture in the
atmosphere told that rain might be expected very soon. While the boys
had given themselves up to reverie the clouds were gathering, until now
it seemed as if they actually enveloped the brig as with an impenetrable
vapor, and the waters dashed against the bow with that peculiar sullen
sighing which betokens a storm. The Bonita no longer sailed freely, but
tossed and plunged like some living thing harassed by obstacles in its
path until wearied with the constant strife.
Jim knew the meaning of this change in wind and wave, and he roused
himself suddenly as does one who is rudely awakened.
"I reckon it would be better if we 'tended to our business instead of
whinin' about what can't be helped," he said grimly, clutching yet more
tightly the spokes of the wheel. "You'll have to go below an' tell Bob
that a storm is comin' on, so's we can get in some more of this canvas,
if he thinks we're carryin' too much."
Walter noted the change in his companion's voice rather than in the
elements; but that was sufficient to cause him to move very quickly.
It became necessary to look in several of the tiny apartments before
finding the two who were enjoying their watch below, after which it was
an affair of only a few seconds to arouse them. Bob sprung to his feet
before Walter had repeated Jim's words, and he awakened Harry by saying,
as he pulled him from the bunk:
"Come on deck, lad; for we shall need the whole workin' force unless our
fisherman has made a mistake!"
To have seen Bob ascend the companion-way ladder one would hardly have
supposed he had been so near death a few hours previous. The necessity
for action seemed to call back all his strength, and on reaching the
deck there was no evidence of weakness in his movements.
"Well, the wind you was callin' for has got here," he said to Jim,
looking out into the darkness. "I never knew much good to come of boys
whistlin' at sea, an' I don't reckon any one else ever did."
Jim had nothing to say. He didn't believe he was responsible for this
sudden change in the weather; but long and sad experience had taught him
how useless it would be to deny the imputation, and he asked meekly:
"Do you think we're goin' to have much of a storm?"
"It looks like it; but if we had half a crew aboard there wouldn't be
any reason for touchin' a rope. The way we're fixed now makes things
different, an' we'd better get her snugged down. I'll take the two boys
for'ard, an' you ease her up a bit so we can furl the jib. Come on,
lads; there ain't much time to waste."
Harry and Walter followed Bob without the slightest idea of what was
required. They could carry out his instructions when he set the example,
however, and in half an hour the Bonita was plunging heavily into the
rapidly-rising sea with nothing save the foretopsail drawing. She had no
more canvas than might have been shown in the most furious gale; but,
under the circumstances, it seemed to be all that was consistent with
safety, for no one could say how much wind lurked behind the inky
clouds.
"Now light the binnacle lamp, Jim, so's we'll have some idea of where
we're headin', an' then try your hand at makin' tea. I reckon this will
be an all-night job for me, an' as I don't feel so very chipper yet,
somethin' warm won't do any harm."
Bob took the wheel as he spoke, and Jim obeyed orders, the other boys
following him closely, for the stuffy galley was preferable to the deck,
where the huge waves, roaring astern, appeared ever on the point of
ingulfing the brig.
By the time a pot of tea had been steeped the storm was full upon them,
causing the Bonita to pitch and toss in what Harry and Walter thought a
most dangerous manner. Jim did not feel disturbed by it, however, for in
his mind was the knowledge of that greater peril concerning which his
companions were ignorant. The brig was dashing on literally at the mercy
of the gale, and at any moment might strike a reef or the mainland, to
the destruction of all on board as well as her own stout timbers, for
the helmsman had no idea of what lay before them.
When Jim carried a pannikin of tea aft, leaving the other boys in the
galley awaiting his return, Bob said in a low tone, as if fearing his
words would be overheard:
"You must take the wheel awhile, lad, so I can hunt for the charts. It
won't do to storm along like this without a little smatterin' of what's
ahead, an' we'll make some kind of a guess as to where the brig was when
you picked me up."
Jim grasped the spokes firmly, as much for the purpose of steadying
himself against the vessel's furious plunging as to hold her before the
wind, and after draining the pan of its bitter contents Bob Brace went
into the cabin.
Owing to the violent motion of the brig the boys in the galley made no
effort to join the young fisherman at the helm, and he was left alone
during half an hour, when Bob returned.
"Did you find the charts?" Jim asked eagerly.
"Yes; an' I reckon there's no call to worry ourselves very much. We're
runnin' pretty nigh south, an' if the brig was a hundred miles off the
coast when I came aboard there's nothin' between us an' the Bahamas.
We've got thirteen or fourteen hundred miles of clear water, an' this
breeze will blow itself out before----"
"Look! Look there!" Jim cried excitedly, heaving the wheel down to port
as rapidly as he could handle the spokes.
Bob turned quickly, and but one brief glance was sufficient to cause him
to spring to the helmsman's aid.
There was good reason why the two were alarmed. Directly in the Bonita's
course, less than half a cable's length away, a huge fabric of canvas
and cordage came out of the gloom like a phantom, as if bent on running
down the brig.
The stranger had all lowersails set, and a collision would have been
fatal to the smaller craft because her headway was so much less than
that of the other.
"Up with the helm, lad, to meet her as she comes around!" Bob screamed,
when the wheel had been jammed hard down for a second, and the Bonita
heeled over while responding to the rudder's sudden swing. "We shall
clear her, but it'll be a rub."
The stranger had also changed her course by this time, and as the two
vessels swept past each other on a heaving, screaming sea of foam,
hardly twenty feet apart, Jim sprang toward the flare.
"You can't bring her to now, lad," Bob shouted as the boy ran into the
galley with the basin of alcohol-saturated oakum. "Even if they were
willin', we couldn't wear ship."
Jim's excitement was so great that he did not hear the old sailor's
words. When he emerged from the galley the spirit was sending up a blue
flame which illumined the entire after-part of the brig; but the
stranger had vanished in the gloom to starboard, and strain his eyes as
he might it was impossible to see any answering signal.
"You needn't spend much time lookin' for that craft, lad. We've been
nearer to her than we shall ever be again, an' you'd better chuck the
basin overboard before your fingers get burned."