The "Druid" had run more than half across the Indian Ocean. She had
encountered a heavy gale, and had been driven somewhat out of her
course, but the weather moderated, and she was now steering for the
Straits of Sunda. Unfortunately she received considerable damage. One
of her boats had been lost, her bulwarks stove in, and her fore-yard
sprung.
The captain, who had been on deck during the continuance of the gale,
had over-exerted himself, and was now again confined to his cot. For
several days, owing to a cloudy sky, no observation had been taken.
Owen had one evening entered the cabin shortly before the time for
taking a lunar observation, in order to ascertain the longitude. Mr
Grey had just before gone on deck with his sextant.
"Is the weather clear?" asked Captain Aggett.
"Yes, sir. There are but few clouds, and I think we shall get a good
observation."
"I must go on deck and take one," said the captain, attempting to rise.
He sank back, however, before he could get out of his cot. Owen
endeavoured to assist him, but his strength was insufficient. Again the
captain endeavoured to rise. "I am weaker than I fancied," he murmured.
He lay quiet for a few minutes.
"Owen," he said at length, "I am afraid that my days are numbered. I
should have been thankful had I lived to carry the ship into port, but
God may will it otherwise. If I die, when you get home, see my poor
widow, and deliver to her such property as I possess. She will not be
left as well off as I should wish. I have not been as prudent as I
ought to have been."
"You may trust that to me, sir, and I will do the best I can," answered
Owen; "but perhaps you are not so ill as you suppose. Let me call the
doctor, and he may give you something to restore your strength."
"Yes, call him; but I doubt if anything he can give me will do that,"
answered the captain.
The doctor had turned in, but immediately rose on being summoned by
Owen. He brought some medicine with him, which he at once gave to the
captain on feeling his pulse.
"You are a brave man, Captain Aggett," he said, "I will not disguise the
truth from you. You are sinking. Any worldly matters you have to
arrange should be settled without delay."
"I have done that already, doctor," answered the captain, in a weak
voice. "Who has the watch, Owen?"
"The third mate, sir," he answered.
"I will see the first and second mates then, as soon as they have
finished their observations. Go and call them, Owen," said the captain.
Owen hurried on deck. The second mate, with the assistance of the
third, had just taken a satisfactory observation.
Owen told Mr Grey that the captain wished to see him, but Mr Scoones
had not made his appearance on deck. Owen found him in his berth, and
gave him the captain's message.
"Dying, is he? That's the lot of all men," observed the mate in an
indifferent tone.
Owen saw that, although not tipsy, he had been drinking, but hoped that
the captain's last words would have a good effect. He therefore said--
"Come, sir, quickly, or I fear that Captain Aggett may be dead before
you get to him."
Unwilling to be absent longer than possible, he then hastened back to
the cabin. The second mate was with the captain, who was weaker than
before, although perfectly composed. He had been bidding Mr Grey
farewell, and had been sending a few parting words to the officers and
crew. The first mate soon appeared.
"I wish to say good-bye, Mr Scoones," said the captain. "I am anxious
about one point, and you will pardon me if I tell you what it is. I
know you to be a first-rate seaman; you are one of those who never order
a man to do what you are not ready to do yourself; but you are not a
good navigator, for I have several times found that you have made
mistakes in your calculations. I wish, therefore, when you take command
of this ship that you should trust to Mr Grey's and Owen Hartley's
calculations. Owen has had the advantage of a careful training, so that
you have no cause to be jealous of him."
"They may be the best calculators in the world for what I care,"
answered the first mate, roughly; "but I will back Jonas Scoones to take
a ship round the world with any man alive, so do not trouble yourself on
that point, Captain Aggett. You and I have never had a tiff while we
have sailed together, and I do not want to have one now, so I'll say no
more about the matter."
This unsatisfactory answer evidently pained the captain, but he was too
weak to reply. He put out his hand.
"I wish you would listen to reason," he said. "The consequences may be
serious if you do not."
The first mate turned away, for he was not a man who liked to be at a
death-bed; it made him think of what might happen to himself.
The captain being anxious to know the exact position of the ship, the
second mate went into the main cabin to make his calculations.
Owen and the doctor remained with the captain. He did not rally, and
just before daybreak, as he himself believed would be the case, he
breathed his last.
The doctor, as was his duty, reported the event to the first mate.
"We shall see who is going to be captain now," exclaimed the
latter--"Mr Grey, that youngster, or I. From the way Captain Aggett
talked, one would have supposed that he fancied young Hartley was as
well able to take charge of the ship as a man who has been to sea all
his life. The youngster will soon find out his mistake."
Owen knew that Mr Scoones had now the power to treat him in any way he
might please--to confine him to his cabin, or even to put him in irons;
at all events, that his own position in the ship would be greatly
altered. Scarcely, indeed, had the captain's body been committed to its
ocean grave than Mr Scoones turned him out of the cabin and made him
take up his berth with the apprentices amidships. Owen bore his change
of circumstances without complaining. He considered that there would be
no use in expostulating with Mr Scoones; indeed, that by so doing he
might make matters worse.
The first mate, or rather the captain, for so he insisted on being
called, ordered him about as he did the other apprentices, and made him
perform the roughest style of work.
"You want to be a sailor, my lad, and I never knew one who did not dip
his hand in the tar bucket, and you will now have to put yours in very
often," he exclaimed. He then ordered Owen to black down some of the
rigging.
It was a seaman's duty, and Owen was ready to perform it. Mr Scoones,
seeing that he obeyed willingly, was resolved to try him yet further,
and ordered him aft to sweep out the cabin and to wait upon him at
table. The doctor, who was a kind man, on discovering this, advised
Owen to decline obeying the order.
"He now commands the ship, and as long as he does not direct me to do
anything which will injure any one, I am bound, I consider, to obey,"
answered Owen. "It is not pleasant, but I do not thus really disgrace
myself."
Owen had been accustomed to take an observation with the captain and
mates. As soon as he appeared, Mr Scoones ordered him off the poop,
exclaiming, in an angry tone--
"We don't want any boys fresh from school here with their new-fangled
notions. If I see that sextant again I will break it to pieces. The
mates and I can look after the navigation of the ship, I expect, without
your assistance."
Owen went below and stowed away his sextant, which was one given him by
Captain Aggett, and which he highly prized. The other officers were
indignant at the way in which Owen was treated, and no one was more so
than Nat Midge. He almost cried with rage when Owen came below and told
him what had occurred.
"I don't care for what he says," observed Owen, "but I am vexed at not
being allowed to improve myself in navigation. I hope that we may get a
new captain when we reach Batavia."
"I am sure so do I," said Nat. "If it were not for you, I'd run from
the ship. I should not like to leave you, and I wish you would come
with me."
Owen laughed. "I do not think we should improve matters by that," he
said. "It would only be like falling out of the frying pan into the
fire."
"I could not be worse off than I am on board this ship, for I have led a
dog's life ever since our kind captain died," answered Nat. "It was bad
enough before, but I have been far worse treated since by the first mate
and some of the men."
Owen endeavoured to comfort Nat. "When things get to the worst they are
sure to change for the better," he remarked. He ultimately persuaded
Nat to bear patiently any ill-treatment he might receive.
Several days passed by without any event of importance occurring, Owen
all the time performing sailor boy's duty. The second and third mates'
observations did not agree with those of the new commander, who,
insisting that he was right, would not attend to theirs, but kept the
ship on the course he had marked out. The weather had been tolerably
fine since the first gale, but signs of a change now appeared. Mr
Scoones, however, declared that the wind would not be down upon them for
some hours to come, and kept all the canvas standing as before.
Suddenly the wind dropped, and the sails flapped loudly against the
masts. It was Mr Grey's watch; he had just relieved the third mate.
Casting his eye to the northward, he shouted--
"All hands on deck; shorten sail! Be smart, my lads, or we shall have
the masts whipped over the sides."
The crew who were on deck flew aloft; the watch below came tumbling up
and hastened to join the rest, some laying out on the fore and
main-topsail yards, while others handed the royals and topgallant sails.
Owen, with the other boys, lay out on the mizen-topsail yard.
"What's all this about?" exclaimed Mr Scoones, who had been in his
cabin. His face was flushed and manner excited. "Why don't you wait
until I order you to shorten sail?" he added, turning to the second
mate.
"Because there would not have been time to save the ship's masts and
spars," answered Mr Grey, in a firmer tone than he had hitherto
assumed.
"Shake out the reefs and make sail again," shouted the captain.
"Go on, and carry out the orders I gave you!" cried Mr Grey. "While I
remain second officer of this ship, I will not stand by and let her come
to harm if I can help it."
"Mutiny! mutiny!" shouted Mr Scoones; but the men, who saw as clearly
as the second mate the importance of shortening sail, continued their
work. Even the boys, although holding him in dread, instigated by Owen
and Nat, remained aloft, until they had handed the mizen-royal and
topgallant sail, and close reefed the topsail. Scoones, completely
beside himself, was hurrying off the deck, apparently for the purpose,
from the words he let drop, of getting his pistols, when a long thin
line of hissing foam was seen rushing across the ocean.
"Down, my lads, down, quick," cried the mate.
The boys rapidly descended from the mizen-yard. Then the voice of the
hurricane was heard, and a fierce wind struck the ship. In an instant
she heeled over, and the close reefed mizen-topsail was blown from the
bolt ropes. The helm being put up, she, however, righted, and away she
flew before the hissing and foaming sea, which now rose up on either
side as if eager to overwhelm her.
"We must furl the main-topsail," exclaimed Mr Grey, as soon as the
yards were squared.
Scarcely were the words uttered, than with a clap like thunder the sail
was blown away, and flying out in tatters was quickly whisked round and
round the yard. Whatever had been the intentions of the first mate, he
now returned perfectly sobered, and taking the command, issued every
subsequent order with coolness. He did not however, condescend to
praise Mr Grey, by whose promptness the ship had been saved.
For two days the ship ran on under a close reefed fore topsail. The
fore-yard had been so well fished that it stood the immense strain put
upon it, although most of the crew expected every instant to see it go.
Once more the wind moderating, the sorely battered "Druid" hauled up
again on her course. The sky, however, was obscured, and the weather
thick, and no observation could be taken. Mr Grey had carefully kept
the reckoning, and knew, as he believed, more or less, her position; but
he found, on comparing notes, that the calculations made by Mr Scoones
placed her at a considerable distance from where he supposed she was; he
was therefore eagerly looking out for a glimpse of the sun by day or a
star by night to ascertain which was correct. The wind was again
favourable, and for some days they had been making good progress.
It was night, and the ship was running along with a pretty stiff breeze
and a moderate sea under whole topsails and topgallant sails. Mr
Scoones, although acting as captain, found it necessary to keep his
watch, in which Owen and Nat remained as before. The sky was cloudy,
and as there was no moon it was very dark. A good look-out was kept
forward, although the keenest pair of eyes could not have pierced the
gloom many fathoms ahead. Mr Scoones paced the deck, every now and
then, shouting to the men forward. Some care seemed to oppress him. He
might not have had the full confidence in his own reckoning which he
professed to have. Still, as the proud ship went scudding on across the
broad ocean, no one would have supposed that danger was near.
Owen was on the quarter-deck, when a startling cry came from forward.
"Breakers ahead! breakers on the starboard bow!"
"Down with the helm," shouted the first mate, rushing to assist the man
at the wheel; but ere he reached him an ominous grating noise was heard,
the ship trembled through her whole frame, but she surged on.
"We may yet scrape free," cried some of the men, as they sprang to the
braces.
The next instant, however, there came a fearful crash; the tall masts
tottered, the fore and main topmasts fell over the side, still leaving,
however, the lower yards standing; the mizen mast at the same instant
went by the board. The wheel spun round, casting the helmsman to the
deck. A huge sea striking the devoted ship swept him and several others
overboard.
Owen found Nat Midge close to him.
"Let us hold on to the stanchions until daylight, and we shall then see
where we are," said Owen. "There is no use in attempting to do anything
now, and it is dangerous to move about, as we may be washed overboard."
In the meantime the rest of the officers and the watch had rushed on
deck, and a cry arose of "Clear away the boats!" Several of the crew
attempted to perform this difficult operation, but the fore-part of the
first boat as she was being lowered hung in the falls, and the men who
jumped into her were swept out, while she, driven against the side of
the ship, was immediately knocked to pieces. An attempt was made to
launch another boat on the same side, and although she reached the
water, so many sprang into her that she filled before she could be
shoved off. A few got on board by the falls, but the rest were drowned.
"We will hoist out the long-boat," cried Mr Scoones. "We shall have to
cut away the masts, and we must get her into the water before that."
He issued the orders to rig the necessary tackles. As this boat was to
be got into the water on the lee side, there was a greater probability
of her swimming, provided she did not encounter any rocks.
"Hadn't we better try to get in her?" said Nat to Owen.
"She is not in the water yet," answered Owen, "and if she were, I doubt
if Mr Scoones would let us; besides, she will run a great risk of being
thrown on the rocks, or swamped during the darkness. The ship does not
give signs of going to pieces yet; perhaps the wind may abate before
morning, we shall then be able to get ashore on a raft, if any shore is
near, and there is one boat left which nobody seems to have thought of
launching."
"I'll do as you advise, but perhaps we may get off in the boat
by-and-by," said Nat.
They eagerly watched the operation of launching the long-boat. The
seas, which had battered in a portion of the bulwarks, swept across the
fore-part of the deck, and rendered it very difficult. Two or three of
the men who neglected to secure themselves were carried overboard. One
saved himself by a rope, but the shrieks of the others were heard as
they struggled vainly in the seething ocean.
What had become of the doctor, and the other officers and apprentices,
Owen could not tell. Mr Scoones he could hear issuing his orders, but
he had reason to fear that some of the others had been washed overboard,
or perhaps killed by the falling blocks and spars. Still a good many
men remained, the greater number of whom were engaged in lowering the
boat on which they believed their safety depended. At length she was
launched over the side, and five or six men got into her, and shouted
out far oars.
A search was made for them, but only three could be found; without more
she would be almost helpless in the raging sea. She was now held by a
warp, floating clear of the ship, which was working fearfully on the
rocks.
"She will go to pieces if we do not cut away the masts," shouted Mr
Scoones. "Axes! axes!"
They were brought, and the boat being veered off to a safe distance, the
two remaining masts were, with a few strokes, cut away, and falling over
on the lee side, were allowed to float clear of the wreck.
Nothing more could now be done until morning, for which all hands
eagerly waited.
"The boat won't hold half of us. Let us form a raft, lads," shouted Mr
Fidd, the boatswain.
This was no easy matter in the dark. The brave boatswain setting the
example, a portion of the crew began to collect such spars as they could
find on board, and to drag them to the after part of the deck, which was
more protected than the other parts of the ship, over which the sea
continually broke, carrying away everything before it.
"We ought to be assisting," cried Owen, who with Nat had hitherto
retained their tolerably secure places. "We are better off here,"
answered Nat. "It's our duty to help our shipmates," answered Owen, and
he, followed by Nat, joined the working party.
They found great difficulty in keeping on their feet. The deck was wet
and slippery, and inclined over towards the lee side. The bulwarks on
that side had been gradually torn away, so that every instant the risk
increased of their being carried overboard. Still, Owen and his
companions persevered One only of the apprentices had joined them.
"Where are the others?" asked Owen.
"They are gone, I am afraid. I saw them standing together trying to
lower a boat, when a sea took the whole of them off their legs. I was
nearly gone too, but got hold of a rope just in time to save myself,"
was the answer.
It would have been better if Mr Scoones had endeavoured to keep all the
men employed. As soon as he had declared that nothing more could be
done until daylight, several of them stole away instead of joining those
working at the raft. Some time had passed, when Owen heard voices
coming out of the captain's cabin, some singing sea ditties, others
shouting loudly in discordant tones.
"The rascals have gone in and got drunk," cried the boatswain, who heard
them also. He made his way into the cabin, intending to turn them out.
His efforts were in vain, they jeered and laughed at him.
"If the ship goes down, we intend to go down with her," cried one of his
own mates. "A short life and a merry one. Oh! come and join us, old
Fidd."
The boatswain finding remonstrance useless, and unwilling to waste time
returned to his labours. Just at that moment there came a fearful
crash, the stout timbers and beams were rent, as if composed of mere
touchwood. The ship broke in two. The sea, rushing through the stern
ports, swept every one out of the cabin, and the ribald songs and jests
of those within were in a moment changed for cries of help and mercy.
Owen and Nat regained their former position, where they were partially
protected by the only portion of the bulwarks remaining above water.
The survivors of the crew on the after part of the ship here joined
them. The raft, still incomplete, remained on deck. What had become of
the boat they could not tell, but shouts were heard amid the roaring of
the sea, which came either from her, or from some of the men who had
gained the other part of the wreck. No one having seen Mr Scoones, it
was supposed that he had shared the fate of the other officers.
Never had a night appeared so long to Owen. Eagerly he and his
companions in misfortune looked out for the first streaks of dawn in the
eastern horizon. They appeared at last, and a faint cheer burst from
the seamen.
"A sail! a sail!" cried Mike Coffey, an Irish seaman. All eyes were at
once turned in the direction he pointed, but, as the light increased,
disappointment took the place of the hopes which had been raised, and
the jagged point of a rock, whitened by the sea-birds perched upon it,
was seen rising above the troubled waters. The remnant of the
shipwrecked crew now looked out in the opposite direction, in the hope
of discovering land.
A line of rocks rising a few feet out of the water were alone visible at
the distance of eighty or a hundred fathoms from the ship.
The long-boat, on which their hopes of safety depended, had been carried
away when the ship parted, and was nowhere to be seen. By the
increasing light, however, some people were observed on the rock. Those
on the wreck waved to them. The signal was returned. Some of their
shipmates had thus reached a place of comparative safety. As daylight
increased the wind considerably lessened, but still the heavy surges
continued beating against the wreck.
"Come, lads," cried the boatswain, "we will finish the raft, and get
away from this before the old ship goes to pieces completely."
A second invitation was not required, and all hands set to work with a
will. It was soon finished and launched, but how to guide it to the
rocks was a difficult question.
"Before we shove off we must try and get some provisions and water,"
said Owen, more thoughtful than his companions.
"You are right, youngster," answered Mr Fidd. A cask of water which
had washed up was fortunately secured, as was a tub of butter, a barrel
of salt beef, and another of flour, and some cases containing cheese,
dried fruit, and biscuits.
Here was sufficient food to support the crew for a few days, should they
reach the rocks in safety. There seethed, however, a greet likelihood
of their not doing that, as the raft must inevitably be turned over by
the surf as it reached the rocks, and dashed against them.
"We must find a warp, lads, and then we will do it," cried the
boatswain.
A search was made, and a rope of sufficient length and strength was
discovered. One end was secured to the firmest part of the wreck, the
rest of the coil being thrown on the raft.
"Now, lads, steady," cried the boatswain; "let each man take his place--
four to the paddles, and the rest to stand by the warp to pay it out as
I direct."
The raft was all this time surging up and down, go that the men had no
little difficulty in seating themselves on it. Had there been any
scrambling, many probably would have been washed off. The boatswain
culling them by name, they sprang on to the raft two at a time, and
secured themselves as he directed. Owen and Nat had not been summoned.
"Are we to be left behind?" cried Nat.
"Not if we can help it," said Owen.
Some of the men on the raft were shouting out, "Shove off! shove off!"
Those nearest the wreck got out their knives and cut the ropes which
held it. Owen and Nat rushed across the deck, and were about to spring
on board, when the men who had charge of the warp paid it out, and a
heavy sea sweeping round, carried the raft to a considerable distance.
"Haul in again, lads, we must not leave those boys behind," shouted the
boatswain.
But the men did not appear to heed him. They scarcely, indeed, had the
power to do as he ordered. The raft went tossing up and down, and was
carried farther and farther from the wreck.
"Oh! they have deserted us," cried Nat.
"Never mind, we must make a raft for ourselves," answered Owen; "the
lighter the better, and the more the sea goes down, the more easily we
shall get a landing on the rocks." They found a couple of gratings, and
two small spars. These they lashed together.
"We must secure some lanyards to hold on by," said Owen.
There was still plenty of small rope which had become entangled in the
shattered bulwarks, and their raft was soon completed. They had
hitherto not had time to watch the progress of the large raft. Just as
they were about to launch their own they looked out for it. At that
moment they saw a sea strike it; the warp parted, or was carried out of
the men's hands, and the raft was turned completely over, the next
instant to be dashed violently against the rocks, every soul being
washed off. Owen saw that many of the men were striking out, and were
helped up by their companions on the rocks.
"The same thing may happen to our small raft," said Nat.
"I hope not," said Owen; "we will make a couple of paddles, and we shall
then be able to guide it."
They returned for this purpose. The tools, fortunately for them, had
been left behind. The paddles were soon made.
"In case we get on shore safely, these tools may be useful. You go
first, Nat, and I will hand them to you," said Owen.
Nat sprang on to the raft. Owen then handed down a bag of nails, a
hammer and saw, some gimlets and chisels, which Nat secured, as he was
directed by Owen, who leapt down after him. As it was dangerous to
remain alongside the wreck among the masses of timbers, they immediately
cast off the ropes and began paddling away.
Their slight raft was several times nearly struck by pieces of floating
wreck. Shoving away from them with their paddles, they, however,
floated clear. Owen observed an opening between two of the higher
rocks.
"If we can pass through there we may get round the lee side, and land
without difficulty," he said.
They exerted all their strength to reach the opening. Again they were
in great danger from a piece of wreck which came surging up and down
close to them. They, however, scraped clear of it. "We shall get
through now," cried Owen; "paddle away, Nat."
In a few minutes more they reached the opening, which was just wide
enough to allow their small raft to pass through.
"Hurrah! we have done it," cried Nat, as they saw the white surf
breaking astern of them. The current, however, threatened to carry them
out to sea, but by great exertion they kept close to the rocks, and
paddled on. At length they reached the rock where their shipmates were
collected. As they scrambled up on the rock the first person they saw
was Mr Scoones.
"Well, youngsters, you little expected to find me here, I've an
opinion," he said; "you'll have to look out, and do as I order you."
Owen had expected a more friendly greeting from those who had escaped.
Neither he nor Nat made any reply. They at once carried up the tools
which they had brought for safety to the top of the rock. Several of
the men who had reached the rock congratulated them on their escape.
Owen inquired for Mr Grey and the other officers. No one had seen
them, and it was feared that they had been washed away by the seas which
broke over the ship when she first struck. The long-boat had been
driven against the rocks and dashed to pieces, although those in her had
managed to reach the rock. Owen was grieved also to hear that the
boatswain had been lost, with several of the men, when the raft turned
over. The only officer, indeed, who had escaped was Mr Scoones.
The position of the sufferers, numbering altogether twenty persons, was
still dangerous in the extreme, as at any moment the sea might rise and
sweep them all away. As the morning mists cleared off and the sun burst
forth, they saw, a couple of miles to the eastward and southward, a
sand-bank, which rose apparently some feet above the water. The
intervening space appeared to be filled up with rocks and sand, so that
it might be passed by wading, and perhaps occasionally swimming to get
over it. Mr Scoones pointed out to the men that their only chance of
safety was at once to get to the sand-bank, which was of considerable
extent.
"The youngsters raft will assist us to carry across the things which
have been saved," he observed.
Fortunately most of the casks which had been brought by the large raft
had been picked up, as well as a good many others. Those which would
not float of themselves were now placed on the small raft, and the mate,
taking a long spar in his hand, set out to lead the way. Four of the
men took charge of the raft, while others dragged after them casks of
beef and water and two of beer. Owen was thankful that no spirits had
been picked up. He knew too well what would have been the consequence.
"I am afraid, Owen, that I shall not be able to get across if there are
any deep places," said Nat, "as you know I cannot swim."
"Then you keep close to the raft, and I will get the men to let you hold
on to it."
The two lads had taken two of the casks of water, which was as much as
they could drag. The men who had charge of the raft, fortunately, were
amongst the best of the crew, and at once acceded to Owen's request;
indeed they looked upon him as an officer, and were willing to obey him
as such. Mr Scoones, who was a powerful man, aided by his long pole,
made great progress. Every now and then, when he got to a distance from
the men, he turned round and shouted to them to come faster.
"It's all very well for him to cry out come faster when he has got
nothing to carry," grumbled some of the men.
Presently, as he was shouting out, he was seen suddenly to sink down; he
had stepped without feeling his way into deep water. He, however, at
once struck out; in a short time he again rose, and pressed on as
before. When the raft reached the deep water Owen made Nat hold on to
it, and he swimming they soon got across. Several of the men, however,
who could not swim had to be assisted by their shipmates and dragged
over by ropes, which the best swimmers carried across. As they went
along they found several articles floating about, and these were added
to those they were dragging with them.
They were crossing a narrow channel, in which the water reached up to
their middles, when one of the men cried out, "A big fish; he will serve
us for dinner." The fish swam up the channel where the water was
shallower. Chase was made, and before it could escape it was overtaken
by two of the men, who had provided themselves with broken spars as
walking sticks. Having stunned it by the heavy blows they inflicted,
they towed it back in triumph.
"Why, you have got a young shark!" exclaimed Mike Coffey; "surely he'll
be eating us up, for he's only half kilt." Whereupon the Irishman,
taking out his knife, nearly severed its head from its body. "He'll not
be afther doing us any harm now," he said, laughing, as he secured the
prize.
At length the sand-bank was reached. It was found to be much higher out
of the water than at first supposed, and of considerable extent; but not
a tree grew upon it, nor was it probable that a spring of water would be
found there. They might exist for a short time, exposed to the burning
rays of the sun by day and the dews by night. When Owen looked at the
two small casks of water, he reflected that it could not last more than
five or six days, even with the greatest economy. The raft being hauled
up on the beach, the various articles they had brought were placed
together.
"Men," said Mr Scoones, "we have got provisions enough here to keep
body and soul together for ten days or more; in the meantime we must see
what can be done to make our escape. Perhaps one of the boats may be
driven on shore, or, if not, we must build a raft and make our way to
Java, or maybe some ship may appear and take us off. It won't do for at
to be down-hearted."
"Can you tell about where we are?" asked Owen.
"What's that to you, youngster?" answered the mate, who in reality had
been utterly ignorant of the position of the ship when she struck.
Owen walked away: he saw that the less communication he had with Mr
Scoones the better.
He proposed to Mike Coffey and two other men that they should make an
excursion along the beach, in the hopes of picking up any articles which
might be washed ashore from the wreck.
"Shure, we will have our dinner first off the shark," observed Mike, "or
there will be but poor picking for us when we come back."
Among the things saved was a tinder box and matches; the latter were
perfectly wet, and it was supposed that they were spoiled. Owen,
however, undertook to dry them.
"If you will pick up the fuel, we will soon have a fire burning," he
observed.
By exposing the matches to the hot sun they quickly dried. From
portions of the wreck driven on shore during the night and old drift
wood, a sufficient amount of fuel was collected to form a good fire.
After some trouble one of the matches was lighted. The men cheered as
they saw it blaze up, and bits of paper were produced to catch the
welcome flame. In a short time a good fire was burning, at which the
shark, cut up in pieces, was placed to cook.
Owen saw the beer barrel broached with considerable uneasiness.
However, he could not interfere. All hands obtained a good meal from
the roasted shark and some sopped biscuit, which Mr Scoones served out
to them. Owen and his companions then set out, and were fortunate
enough in finding several casks, cases, and bales of goods; and what was
of still greater value, the main topmast, with its spars, rigging and
canvas, although apparently in inextricable entanglement. They
immediately set to work, however, and, by using their knives, succeeded
in dragging up a topsail and topgallant sail.
"This will assist us in forming a tent," said Owen; "and if we can find
another sail or two we may have shelter enough for all hands."
Two of the men volunteered to tow the heavier articles they had found
along the beach, while Owen, with Nat and Mike, dragged the sails to
where they had left their companions.
"Shure," said Mike, "it would be wiser to camp where we are, or maybe,
when we get the tent up, Mr Scoones will be afther turnin' us out."
"I hope he won't act so unjustly," said Owen; "and we must not set the
example of selfishness for fear of his doing so."
The spars they had brought served as a tent pole, and as there were
plenty of lengths of small rope, in a short time a tent was put up of
sufficient size to accommodate the whole party. As they were all very
weary, they gladly lay down to rest, and thus commenced their first
night on this truly desert island.