For some time after the disappearance of the ship, the men in the boats
continued to gaze, in a species of unbelief, at the place where she had
gone down. They evidently felt it difficult to realise the truth of
what they had seen. The suddenness of the change and the extreme danger
of their position might have shaken the stoutest hearts, for the sea
still ran high and none of the boats were fitted to live in rough
weather. They were, as far as could be judged, many hundreds of miles
from land, and, to add to the horror of their circumstances, night was
coming on.
"My lads," said Captain Dall, sitting down in the stern of his boat, and
grasping the tiller, "it has pleased the Almighty to sink our ship and
to spare our lives. Let us be thankful that we didn't go to the bottom
along with her. To the best of my knowledge we're a long way from land,
and all of us will have to take in a reef in our appetites for some time
to come. I have taken care to have a good supply of salt junk, biscuit,
water, and lime-juice put aboard, so that if the weather don't turn out
uncommon bad, we may manage, with God's blessing, to make the land. In
circumstances of this kind, men's endurance is sometimes tried pretty
sharply, and men in distress are occasionally driven to forgetting their
duty to their comrades. I tell you beforehand, lads, that I will do all
that in me lies to steer you to the nearest port, and to make your lot
as comfortable as may be in an open boat; but if any of you should take
a fancy to having his own way, I've brought with me a little leaden
pill-box (here the captain drew aside the breast of his coat and exposed
the handle of a revolver) which will tend to keep up discipline and
prevent discord. Now, lads, ship your oars and hoist the foresail
close-reefed, and look alive, for it seems to me that we'll have a
squally night."
The effect of this speech was very striking. There is nothing that men
dislike so much, in critical circumstances, where action is necessary,
as uncertainty or want of decision on the part of their leader. The
loss of their ship, and their forlorn, almost desperate condition, had
sunk their spirits so much that an air of apathetic recklessness had,
for a few minutes, crossed the countenances of some of the boldest among
the sailors; but while the captain was speaking this expression passed
away, and when he had finished they all gave one hearty cheer, and
obeyed his orders with alacrity.
In a few minutes the sails, closely reefed, were hoisted, and the
long-boat rushed swiftly over the waves. At first the four boats kept
company--the other three having also made sail--but as darkness set in
they lost sight of each other. The first mate had charge of the
jolly-boat, and the second mate and carpenter had the two others. In
the captain's boat were Will Osten, Larry O'Hale, Goff, Muggins, and
several of the best seamen.
Soon after the sails were set, a heavy sea broke inboard and nearly
filled the boat.
"Bail her out, lads," shouted the captain.
There was no occasion for the order, the men knew their danger well
enough, and every one seized anything that came to hand and began to
bail for life. There was only one bucket on board, and this was
appropriated by the cook, who, being one of the strongest men in the
boat, thought himself entitled to the post of honour, and, truly, the
way in which Larry handled that bucket and showered the water over the
side justified his opinion of himself.
"We must rig up something to prevent that happening again," said Captain
Dall; "set to work, Goff, and cut a slice out of the tarpaulin, and nail
it over the bows."
This was done without delay, and in less than an hour a sort of
half-deck was made, which turned off the spray and rendered the task of
bailing much lighter--a matter of considerable importance, for, in such
a sea, there was no possibility of an open boat remaining afloat without
constant bailing.
At first the men talked a good deal in comparatively cheerful tones
while they worked, and the irrepressible Larry O'Hale even ventured to
cut one or two jokes; but when night began to cover the deep with thick
darkness, one after another dropped out of the conversation, and at last
all were perfectly silent, except when it became necessary to give an
order or answer a question, and nothing was heard save the whistling of
the wind and the gurgling of the waves as they rushed past, their white
crests curling over the edge of the boat as if greedy to swallow her,
and gleaming like lambent fire all around.
"This is a terrible situation," said Will Osten, in a low tone, with an
involuntary shudder. "Do you think there is much chance of our
surviving, captain?"
"That's not an easy question to answer, doctor," replied Captain Dall,
in a tone so hearty that our hero was much cheered by it. "You see,
there is much in our favour as well as much against us. In the first
place, this is the Pacific, and according to its name we have a right to
expect more fine weather than bad, especially at this time of the year.
Then we have the trade winds to help us, and our boat is a good one,
with at least two weeks' provisions aboard. But then, on the other
hand, we're a terrible long way off land, and we must count upon a gale
now and then, which an open boat, however good, is not calc'lated to
weather easily. See that now," added the captain, looking back over the
stern, where, from out of the darkness, Osten could just see a huge
wave, like a black mountain with a snowy top, rolling towards them. "If
we were only a little more down in the stern, that fellow would drop on
board of us and send us to the bottom in half a minute."
Will felt that, although the captain's tones were reassuring, his words
were startling. He was ill at ease, and clutched the seat when the
billow rolled under them, raising the stern of the boat so high that it
seemed as if about to be thrown completely over, but the wave passed on,
and they fell back into the trough of the sea.
"Musha! but that was a wathery mountain no less," exclaimed Larry.
"You've heard of Captain Bligh, Larry, I suppose?" said the captain, in
a loud voice, with the intention of letting the men hear his remarks.
"May be I have," replied Larry with caution, "but if so I misremimber."
"He was the captain of the _Bounty_, whose crew mutinied and turned him
adrift in an open boat in the middle of the Pacific. What I was goin'
to tell ye was, that his circumstances were a trifle worse than ours,
for he was full four thousand miles from the nearest land, and with
short allowance of provisions on board."
"An' did he make out the voyage, sur?" asked Larry.
"He did, and did it nobly too, in the face of great trouble and danger,
but it's too long a yarn to spin just now; some day when the weather's
fine I'll spin it to 'ee. He weathered some heavy gales, too, and what
one man has done another man may do; so we've no reason to get
down-hearted, for we're nearer land than he was, and better off in every
way. I wish I could say as much for the other boats."
The captain's voice dropped a little in spite of himself as he
concluded, for, despite the strength and buoyancy of his spirit, he
could not help feeling deep anxiety as to the fate of his companions in
misfortune.
Thus, talking at intervals in hopeful tones, and relapsing into long
periods of silence, they spent that stormy night without refreshment and
without rest. The minutes seemed to float on leaden wings, and the
weary watchers experienced in its highest degree that dreary feeling--so
common in the sick room--that "morning would _never_ come."
But morning came at length--a faint glimmer on the eastern horizon. It
was hailed by Larry with a deep sigh, and the earnest exclamation--
"Ah, then, there's the blessed sun at last, good luck to it!"
Gradually the glimmer increased into grey dawn, then a warm tint
brightened up the sky, and golden clouds appeared. At last the glorious
sun arose in all its splendour, sending rays of warmth to the exhausted
frames of the seamen and hope to their hearts. They much needed both,
for want of sleep, anxiety, and cold, had already stamped a haggard look
of suffering on their faces. As the morning advanced, however, this
passed away, and by degrees they began to cheer up and bestir
themselves,--spreading out their clothes to dry, and scanning the
horizon at intervals in search of the other boats.