CHAPTER IV.

Insubordination of the Sailors.--Rapid Progress of the Fire.--The Boats

lowered.--Ruth's Prize.--A Man saved.--Black Peter.--The Adventure of a

Reprobate Crew.--A Dangerous Comrade.

Then the harsh voice of Markham was heard pouring out orders, loud, but

almost inarticulate with rage and drunkenness; while, regardless of his

awful situation, with fearful blasphemy he imprecated curses on the

negligence which had caused the accident, and on the tardiness of action

among his insubordinate crew. At length the fire-engine was got to work;

lengths of leather hose were stretched down to the burning hold; buckets

were rapidly passed from hand to hand; and the splashing of water was

followed by the hissing of the flames.

The four young men joined the sailors and worked manfully at the engine

or with buckets, while Mr. Mayburn, alternately trembling, weeping, and

despairing, and then, in earnest prayer, regaining his firmness and

resignation, occupied the care and attention of Margaret almost

entirely. Jenny, with practical good sense, was collecting the most

valuable part of their property.

"If we be not burnt to death first, Miss Marget," she said; "Jack tells

me we shall be took off in boats, God help us! so it's time to be making

ready. Come, lass!" to Ruth, "and tie this bag. What ails ye, you

simpleton? What are you staring round in that fashion for?"

Ruth was gazing about with a wild expression of terror in her eyes, and,

unmindful of the injunctions of Mrs. Wilson, she suddenly threw down the

bag, and fell on her knees before Mr. Mayburn, crying out, "Ah, master,

will they hang me? I didn't think it would burn us all alive! I couldn't

find it again, try all I would."

"Unfortunate girl," said Mr. Mayburn, "have you lost your senses, or

what have you done? Speak the truth."

"I will tell truth, master," sobbed the girl. "It was when I were lating

up them bonnie chickens as had got out, and big Peter tied a rope across

in yon passage for me to tummel ower, and I rolled down t' ladder into

that big, dark place where they keep great bales and barrels, and all

manners of things; my lantern was broken and my candle was lost. I got

mysel' gathered up, and I groped about for t' candle, but I couldn't

find it, and I got sadly flayed in that dark hole, so I climbed up and

said nought to nobody; but, oh, master, I couldn't get to sleep, for it

came into my head, may be my candle might have set some of them bundles

in a low, and we might all be burned in our beds, and me not saying a

word alike, for fear."

"God forgive you, Ruth," said her master. "Pray for mercy; and if it

please Him to save us in this fearful hour of peril, never forget the

misery and destruction your carelessness has caused."

The penitent and affrighted girl shook in every limb, and Margaret

kindly soothed and prayed with her till she calmed her agitation. Then

the young and thoughtful daughter said,--

"Papa, we must not remain inclosed in this suffocating cabin. Let us go

on deck, and if no other hope remains, we will demand a boat, that we

may escape from a horrible death."

"Lead the way, my child," said Mr. Mayburn, "and I will follow you, as I

ever do; for I feel utterly helpless alone."

They proceeded to the deck, followed by Jenny and Ruth loaded with

packages; and when they reached the scene of terror and confusion, they

were embarrassed among piles of boxes, barrels, and bales, which were

continually drawn up from below, the bales which were blazing being

immediately thrown overboard.

By the light of the torches, Margaret discovered among the throng her

young brothers, busily employed in hauling ropes and carrying buckets;

they were heated with exertion and blackened with smoke. O'Brien had

even got his hair singed with the flames. Still untired, they would have

continued their efforts, but all seemed ineffectual, from the total want

of subordination and unanimity among the sailors. Mr. Mayburn walked up

to Captain Markham, who stood aloof from the rest, in a perfect state of

frenzy, from fear, anger, and intoxication. He continued to shout aloud

contradictory and absurd orders, which were utterly unheeded by the

lawless crew; each man doing what he chose, and nothing being done

effectually.

"The fire is certainly progressing, Captain Markham," said Mr. Mayburn.

"Let me entreat you to issue orders for some means of providing for the

safety of so many human beings all unfit for death. We, who are your

passengers, demand the means of escape."

With a fearful oath, the wretch said his passengers might care for

themselves; he had enough to do to save his ship; and save it he would,

if it cost him half the crew.

"I'll pitch the dogs into the fire," said he, "if they do not soon

extinguish it; and not a man shall leave the _Golden Fairy_ living."

"There's not many will do that," cried the audacious mate, "if they do

not look sharp. The fire has just reached the tallow hogsheads, man, and

where will your ship be then? Come along, lads, we can do no more; so

let every fellow lay his hands on what he likes best, and lower the

boats now or never."

The call was readily responded to, in spite of the threats of the

infuriated captain; and though the flames were now heard roaring below,

and were even visible in some parts, the after-deck was still uninjured;

and from thence the boats were lowered. Arthur and Jack went up to the

men to request that a boat, or at all events seats in one of the boats,

might be given to their party, who would be willing to reward the men

for any trouble they occasioned. The insolent mate, who seemed to have

assumed the command of the rest, laughed at the request.

"Charity begins at home!" cried he. "We have no places to spare. Come

on, my lads! lower the biscuit and the brandy casks. I'll manage the

strong box. Out of my way, gentry. If you say another word we'll pitch

you all into the sea--men and women."

"There's no hope of our getting a boat to ourselves, Mr. Arthur," said

Jack, "for they 're all afloat now, and they'll soon have them off; so I

would say, if you'd help a bit, we should set about getting up a raft as

fast as we can--here are plenty of spare spars about."

When Markham saw the men preparing to forsake the vessel, he became more

furious than ever, and seizing the mate by the collar, he swore he would

have him put in irons. But his attempts were useless against the

powerful villain, who flung him on one side like a noxious reptile; and

the rest of the remorseless wretches, to rid themselves at once of the

opposition of the violent drunkard, hurled him down into the flames,

which were already bursting through the crevices of the deck.

"I can't stand that," cried Wilkins, one of the sailors, coming up to

Jack; "I'se not the chap to turn my back on my comrades; but I've never

committed wilful murder, and I'll just cut away from a gang of such

deep-dyed rogues, and join ye, my honest fellow. Come, I'se ready to

lend a hand."

A helping hand was truly desirable in their extremity of distress; but

Mr. Mayburn shrank from the fierce, rough aspect of the convict sailor,

and besought Arthur, in a low tone, to reject any association with crime

and infamy.

"Be satisfied, my dear father," answered he, "I will do nothing

unadvisedly; but if this man shrinks from evil and turns to good, how

shall we excuse ourselves if we force him back to destruction? Besides,

it is now too late; see, the first boat has already deserted the ship."

With loud cheers, the most daring of the crew headed by the mate, rowed

off in the long boat, and were soon lost in the darkness that shrouded

all except the fearful space around the burning ship. The second boat

followed, the hardened men turning a deaf ear to the entreaties of the

passengers whom they had abandoned on the wreck. They refused even to

aid them in lowering their hastily-constructed and unsafe raft, but

laughed and sneered at the rude workmanship.

But the flames, fed by the hogsheads of tallow in the hold, now blazed

up through the cabin windows, and bursting through the decks, ran along

with fatal rapidity, momentarily threatening the distressed family with

a dreadful fate. It was now that the cool prudence and skill of their

faithful friend Jack rescued them. His observing eye had noted the means

adopted by the sailors; he had tools and appliances; he arranged and

divided the labor, of which even the women had their share; and the rude

raft was at length successfully lowered. A few necessaries were hastily

thrown upon it, including a cask of biscuit and one of water, which

Wilkins at great hazard had obtained; he had also brought up a small

barrel of rum, but Arthur peremptorily refused to take it, and, to end

all discussion, flung it into the sea, and firmly told Wilkins, he would

rather leave him to perish on the burning ship, than carry him away with

such a temptation to evil.

The man grumbled unavailingly, but at last returned to his duty. Nothing

more could be secured, except a few ropes, and spars, with some tools to

repair the raft. Then a spare sail was cast over the stowage, and, one

after another, Mr. Mayburn and the trembling women were let down; the

active boys quickly followed. Jack and Wilkins were the last to descend

from their perilous position, where they had been so surrounded by the

flames, now crawling up the masts, that Margaret dreaded every moment

they should fall victims; but they happily alighted on the lumbering

raft in safety. Then oars were taken up, and no time was lost in

pushing off as far as possible from the ill-fated _Golden Fairy_; nor

did they pause even to look round till they were at a safe distance,

when they stood off for a few minutes to contemplate the splendid and

frightful spectacle.

Wilkins now confessed to them that there were some barrels of gunpowder

concealed in the vessel, which the reckless sailors had smuggled from

Melbourne for their own purposes; for it had been their fixed intention,

at a favorable opportunity, to murder the captain and passengers, or

land them on some desert island; and to take possession of the ship for

piratical enterprises in the Indian Ocean. The knowledge that this

powder was in the ship had hastened their flight from the certain

consequences, and Wilkins was surprised that the catastrophe had been so

long averted. But now, as they watched the blackened ribs of the vessel,

through which the intense flame glowed, while clouds of smoke, myriads

of sparks, and burning flakes, rose from the wreck, a loud explosion

almost deafened them; another and another succeeded; then blazed up a

mass of flame, which seemed to rise to the very clouds for a few

minutes, followed by utter darkness and silence.

"May God, in his infinite mercy, still preserve the weak creatures he

has so miraculously delivered," said Mr. Mayburn, devoutly. "We were

face to face with death, and never, my children, can the crackling,

roaring sound of that fierce and unconquerable conflagration fade from

my recollection. We had not the consolation of the martyrs who suffered

for the faith, and who could look on the flames as the brief path to

eternal glory. We were summoned in the midst of life's cares and

frailties, unwillingly, fearfully, to be dragged to doom; and He spared

us, that we might better prepare to appear before His tribunal. Blessed

forever be His holy name!"

Solemnly and earnestly rose the Amen from the rescued. Even the hardened

convict lowered his voice as he said, with levity, to Jack, "That was a

canny bit prayer; will 'it help us ony, think ye?"

"Yes, Wilkins," said Jack, "I do believe that God never fails to help

them who pray to Him. And some day, my man, you will be glad to believe

it too."

Wilkins said no more, but he often remembered the new, strange words he

had heard poured out amidst that horror of darkness.

"Now, Captain Arthur," cried out Hugh, "please to say where we are, and

whither we are to go?"

"I wish I could determine where we are," answered Arthur; "but we have

been so tossed about for the last two days, that I have no idea of our

position. Certainly we are out of our regular course."

"If Bully Dan were right," said Wilkins, "we ought to be now a good bit

north of Swan River, and among islands and reefs puzzling enough at

noonday; and in this black darkness it's odd that we ever see land

again. If any on ye had thought of an anchor, we might have laid off

till day."

There was nothing but patience and resignation for the voyagers. The sea

was less agitated than it had been during the day, and they drifted

steadily over the waves; but in what direction they could not determine;

for such was the confusion of their embarkation, and such the darkness

that enveloped them, that no one could pronounce from what point the

wind was blowing.

"What is that fluttering sound I hear?" asked Mr. Mayburn, in a voice of

alarm.

A moment's silence followed, then every one distinctly heard the

fluttering. At length Ruth said, "Oh! if you please, master, it was only

me. I couldn't bide that they should be burned alive, bonnie things; it

were not their fault! It's them bits of chickens as I were hunting up

when all this bad work were done--God forgive me!--and I gathered them

into a basket; and if ye please, Miss Marget, dinnot let them be eaten,

they're so bonnie."

Margaret readily granted the noisy little prisoners their life, and

applauded the humanity of Ruth, whose struggles to keep her restless

charge in order created some mirth, and diverted them for a time from

the contemplation of their own troubles.

But another sound was now heard above the monotonous rumbling of the

unquiet ocean. It was surely, they thought, a human cry! It was again

repeated; and Wilkins said very coolly, "It'll be some of our chaps.

Like enough they'll have capsized yon big crazy boat. They'd a keg of

brandy to fight about; and I'll be bound they'd never settle as long as

there were a drop left in't."

"Can we not show them a light?" said Mr. Mayburn: "that was a cry of

distress, and humanity calls on us to aid them."

"There's no room here for any more hands," muttered Wilkins. "Drunken

rogues! they'd kick these few shaking clogs to bits in no time: and then

where are we?"

"Nevertheless, Margaret, we must do our duty. Arthur, what do you say?"

asked Mr. Mayburn anxiously.

A loud and dismal scream, at no great distance, decided the question

without further discussion. Gerald produced a match-box; and though the

wind had got up rather boisterously, they succeeded in lighting and

displaying a long splinter of wood. Then a voice was heard to cry,

"Help! help!" and Wilkins, with a suppressed curse, said, "It's that

desp'rate rogue, Black Peter, and no mistake. Better let him drown, I

tell ye, comrades; but I've heared 'em say, water won't haud him.

They're all alike bad dogs to let loose among us; they've guns and

powder, and they're up to ony sort of bloody work."

Mr. Mayburn groaned at this speech, and said, "What shall we do,

Arthur?--we are wholly defenceless against those bad men."

"Don't you think of that, sir," said O'Brien; "Hugh and I looked after

that. We brought off a pair of first-rate rifles, with lots of powder

and shot. We are the boys to manage the defences. We left the nautical

matters to our captain, Arthur; Jack sought up the spars and hammers,

and such matters; and Margaret did the commissariat. Division of labor,

you see, sir--all regular."

"I did not think your giddy brain could have arranged so well," said Mr.

Mayburn: "I am ashamed to say I have not been so thoughtful."

"No, no, papa," said Hugh; "Gerald is taking more credit than is due to

us. It was Margaret who arranged what each should do, and allowed us to

add to our duties as we chose; in consequence of which, you see, Gerald

and I thought of destroying life, and Ruth of preserving it."

While thus talking, the young rowers had been endeavoring laboriously to

force the heavy raft, against the wind, towards the spot from whence the

cries seemed to proceed. The darkness was so intense that it was in vain

the eye sought to penetrate it; but the cry, still heard at intervals,

seemed to approach nearer, probably directed by the light. Still it was

not without an involuntary shudder, and a half-uttered shriek, that they

felt and saw a hand grasp the raft, and heard a hoarse voice demand

help. This was immediately given; Arthur and Jack, with much difficulty,

drew upon the raft the almost lifeless form of a tall, powerful man, who

lay gasping many minutes before he was able to reply to the anxious

inquiries of his preservers if any of his companions yet survived.

"Every rogue among 'em gone to his reckoning," said he, with a

diabolical laugh. "A good riddance! If we'd only saved the gold and the

brandy! But hand me a sup of something, good folks."

"We have nothing but water," said Arthur gravely.

The man made a wry face, and said, "I've had more nor enough of that.

Well, then, what are ye bound after in this queer craft? It'll not stand

much weather, I take it. And," with an oath, "Wilkins, man, how came you

to drop in among these saints?"

Wilkins gave the man a fiery glance, as he answered, "It were a bit

safer to-night among saints nor amang sinners, it's like; and I guess ye

were thinking so a bit sin' yersel'."

"Never heed that that's gone, man," said the careless villain: "I'm in

as good a place as they are now."

"Ay, Peter," said Wilkins, "it's all true as how neither fire nor water

will touch thee. We'se see what thou was born to."

"Keep a civil tongue in thy head," replied Peter, "for thou and me must

chum together, and see what we can pick up."

"What was the cause of your accident, unhappy man?" said Mr. Mayburn,

coming up to him.

"None so unhappy now," answered the surly fellow; "better off nor I have

been for a few years past, if it were not for want of brandy. I'se free

and idle, and can have plenty of grub, I reckon," looking at the casks;

"so I'se do now. We might have kept together; but, ye see, we began ower

soon with our brandy, and had only one drinking-cup among us, and

everybody wanted it first; and so we chaps got to words, and then to

hard hits, and then out came our knives. We were badly crowded; and,

somehow, in our scrimmage, we all fell atop of one another, and capsized

our boat, and away we all went down. Then, when we came up, such cursing

and yelling never was heard on earth or sea, and, dark as it was, none

could catch hold on aught to save him. It was soon settled, however; for

all our chaps were over far gone in drink to help themselves, and they

went down, shouting out, one after another. I had the luck to catch hold

of the brandy-keg, and I took care to keep hold; but I could not stop it

from leaking, and it vexed me sore that so much good liquor should be

made into salt-water grog, and no time to get a sup. I shouted as loud

as I could, and let myself float, till I got sight of your signal, and

then I thought there was a bit of a chance; so I managed to swim a few

strokes, keeping one hand on my barrel; but I made little way, if the

sea and the wind hadn't brought me right up to you. When my barrel

bumped again the raft, I lost hold, and I hardly know how it was I

clutched the spars; but here I be snug and safe in harbor."

"Thank God for your preservation, reckless man," said Mr. Mayburn. "He,

who is all mercy to His sinful creatures, has granted you a respite,

that you may learn to know and serve Him. Cast not away the precious

boon, but in this awful hour, turn to Him, repent, and pray."

The good man kneeled down beside the reprobate, and offered up an

earnest prayer for the wretched sinner, who was sound asleep before Mr.

Mayburn had concluded; and it was with a sigh he turned from the man,

sorrowful, but not hopeless.

The Kangaroo Hunters; Or, Adventures in the Bush · 第 4 / 34 章