Immediately on discovering the sail, Jarwin hoisted a small canvas flag,
which he had prepared for the purpose, to the mast-head, and then sat
down to watch with indescribable earnestness the motions of the vessel.
There was great cause for anxiety he well knew, because his raft was a
mere speck on the great waste of waters which might easily be overlooked
even by a vessel passing at a comparatively short distance, and if the
vessel's course should happen to lie across that of the raft, there was
every probability she would only be visible for a short time and then
pass away like a ray of hope dying out.
After gazing in perfect silence for half-an-hour, Jarwin heaved a deep
sigh and said--
"She steers this way, Cuffy."
Cuffy acknowledged the remark with a little whine and a very slight wag
of his tail. It was evident that his spirits had sunk to a low ebb, and
that he was not prepared to derive comfort from every trifling
circumstance.
"Come, we'll have a bit of summat to eat, my doggie," said the sailor,
reaching forward his hand to the provision bundle.
Thoroughly understanding and appreciating this remark, Cuffy roused
himself and looked on with profound interest, while his master cut up a
dried fish. Having received a large share of it, he forgot everything
else, and devoted all his powers, physical and mental, to the business
in hand. Although Jarwin also applied himself to the food with the
devotion of a man whose appetite is sharp, and whose strength needs
recruiting, he was very far indeed from forgetting other things. He
kept his eyes the whole time on the approaching sail, and once or twice
became so absorbed and so anxious lest the vessel should change her
course, that he remained with his mouth half open, and with the
unconsumed morsel reposing therein for a minute or more at a time.
But the vessel did not change her course. On she came; a fine large
schooner with raking masts, and so trim and neat in her rig that she
resembled a pleasure-yacht. As she drew near, Jarwin rose, and holding
on to the mast, waved a piece of canvas, while Cuffy, who felt that
there was now really good ground for rejoicing, wagged his tail and
barked in an imbecile fashion, as if he didn't exactly know whether to
laugh or cry.
"We're all safe now, doggie," exclaimed Jarwin, as the schooner came
cutting through the water before a light breeze, leaving a slight track
of foam in her wake.
When within about two or three hundred yards of the raft, the castaway
could see that a figure leant on the vessel's side and brought a
telescope to bear on him. With a feeling of irrepressible gladness he
laughed and waved his hand.
"Ay, ay, take a good squint," he shouted, "an' then lower a boat--eh!--"
He stopped abruptly, for at that moment the figure turned towards the
steersman; the schooner's head fell away, presenting her stern to the
raft, and began to leave her behind.
The truth flashed upon Jarwin like a thunderbolt. It was clear that the
commander of the strange vessel had no intention of relieving him. In
the first burst of mingled despair and indignation, the seaman uttered a
bass roar of defiance that might have done credit to the lungs of a
small carronade, and at the same time shook his fist at the retiring
schooner.
The effect of this was as sudden as it was unexpected. To his surprise
he observed that the schooner's head was immediately thrown up into the
wind, and all her sails shook for a few moments, then, filling out
again, the vessel bent gracefully over on the other tack. With
returning joy the castaway saw her run straight towards him. In a few
minutes she was alongside, and her topsails were backed.
"Look out! catch hold!" cried a gruff voice, as a sailor sent a coil of
rope whirling over the raft. Jarwin caught it, took a turn round the
mast, and held on.
In a minute the raft was alongside. Weak though he was, Jarwin retained
enough of his sailor-like activity to enable him to seize a rope and
swing himself on board with Cuffy in his arms.
He found himself on the pure white deck of a craft which was so well
appointed and so well kept, that his first impressions were revived--
namely, that she was a pleasure-yacht. He knew that she was not a
vessel of war, because, besides the absence of many little things that
mark such a vessel, the few men on deck were not clothed like
man-of-war's-men, and there was no sign of guns, with the exception of
one little brass carronade, which was probably used as a signal-gun.
A tall stout man, in plain costume, which was neither quite that of a
seaman nor a landsman, stood with his arms crossed on his broad chest
near the man at the wheel. To him, judging him to be the captain or
owner of the vessel, Jarwin went up, and, pulling his forelock by way of
salutation, said--
"Why, sir, I thought 'ee was a-goin' to leave me!"
"So I was," answered the captain, drily. "Hold on to the raft," he
added, turning to the man who had thrown the rope to Jarwin.
"Well, sir," said the latter in some surprise, "in course I don't know
why you wos a-goin' to leave a feller-creetur to his fate, but I'm glad
you didn't go for to do it, 'cos it wouldn't have bin Christian-like.
But I'm bound for to thank 'ee, sir, all the same for havin' saved me--
and Cuffy."
"Don't be too free with your thanks, my good man," returned the captain,
"for you're not saved, as you call it, yet."
"Not saved yet?" repeated Jarwin.
"No. Whether I save you or not depends on your keeping a civil tongue
in your head, and on your answers to my questions."
The captain interlarded his speech with many oaths, which, of course, we
omit. This, coupled with his rude manners, induced Jarwin to suspect
that the vessel was not a pleasure-yacht after all, so he wisely held
his peace.
"Where do you belong to?" demanded the captain.
"To Yarmouth, sir."
"What ship did you sail in, what has come of her, and how came you to be
cast adrift?"
"I sailed in the _Nancy_, sir, from Plymouth, with a miscellaneous cargo
for China. She sprung a leak in a gale, and we was 'bliged to make a
raft, the boats bein' all stove in or washed away. It was barely ready
when the ship went down starn foremost. Durin' the gale all my mates
were washed off the raft or died of exposure; only me and my dog left."
"How long ago was that?" asked the captain.
"Couldn't rightly say, sir, I've lost count o' time, but it's more than
a year gone by anyhow."
"That's a lie," said the captain, with an oath.
"No, 'taint, sir," replied Jarwin, reddening, "it's a truth. I was nigh
starved on that raft, but was cast on an island where I've bin till a
few days ago ever since, when I put to sea on the raft that now lays
a-starn there."
For a few seconds the captain made no rejoinder, but a glance at the
raft seemed to satisfy him of the truth of what was said. At length he
said abruptly--
"What's your name?"
"John Jarwin, sir."
"Well, John Jarwin, I'll save you on one condition, which is, that you
become one of my crew, and agree to do my bidding and ask no questions.
What say you?"
Jarwin hesitated.
"Haul up the raft and let this man get aboard of it," said the captain,
coolly but sternly, to the seaman who held the rope.
"You've no occasion to be so sharp, sir," said John, remonstratively.
"If you wos to tell me to cut my own throat, you know, I could scarce be
expected for to do it without puttin' a few questions as to the reason
why. You're a trader, I suppose?"
"Yes, I'm a trader," replied the captain, "but I don't choose to be
questioned by you. All you've got to do is to agree to my proposal or
to walk over the side. To tell you the truth, when I saw you first
through the glass, you looked such a starved wretch that I thought you'd
be of no use to me, and if it hadn't been for the yell you gave, that
showed there was something in you still, I'd have left you to sink or
swim. So you see what sort of man you've got to deal with. I'm
short-handed, but not so short as to engage an unwilling man, or a man
who wouldn't be ready for any sort of dirty work. You may take your
choice."
"Well, sir," replied Jarwin, "I've no objection to take service with
'ee. As the sayin' goes, `beggars mustn't be choosers.' I ain't above
doin' dirty work, if required."
John Jarwin, in the simplicity of his heart, imagined that the captain
was in need of a man who could and would turn his hand to any sort of
work, whether nautical or otherwise, on board ship or ashore, which was
his idea of "dirty work;" but the captain appeared to understand him in
a different sense, for he smiled in a grim fashion, nodded his head,
and, turning to the seaman before mentioned, bade him cut the raft
adrift. The man obeyed, and in a few minutes it was out of sight
astern.
"Now, Jarwin, go below," said the captain; "Isaacs will introduce you to
your messmates."
Isaacs, who had just cut away the raft, was a short, thick-set man, with
a dark, expressionless face. He went forward without saying a word, and
introduced Jarwin to the men as a "new 'and."
"And a green un, I s'pose; give us your flipper, lad," said one of the
crew, holding out his hand.
Jarwin shook it, took off his cap and sat down, while his new friends
began, as they expressed it, to pump him. Having no objection to be
pumped, he had soon related the whole of his recent history. In the
course of the narrative he discovered that his new associates were an
unusually rough set. Their language was interspersed with frightful
oaths, and their references to the captain showed that his power over
them was certainly not founded on goodwill or affection. Jarwin also
discovered that the freeness of his communication was not reciprocated
by his new mates, for when he made inquiries as to the nature of the
trade in which they were engaged, some of the men merely replied with
uproarious laughter, chaff, or curses, while others made jocular
allusions to sandal-wood trading, slaving, etcetera.
"I shouldn't wonder now," said one, "if you was to think we was
pirates."
Jarwin smiled as he replied, "Well, I don't exactly think _that_, but
I'm bound for to say the schooner _has_ got such a rakish look that it
wouldn't seem unnatural like if you _were_ to hoist a black flag at the
peak. An' you'll excuse me, shipmets, if I say that yer lingo ain't
just so polished as it might be."
"And pray who are _you_, that comes here to lecture us about our lingo?"
cried one of the men fiercely, starting up and confronting Jarwin with
clenched fists.
"Why, mate," replied Jarwin, quietly folding back the cuffs of his coat,
and putting himself in an attitude of defence, "I ain't nobody in
partikler, not the Lord Chancellor o' England, anyhow still less the
Archbishop of Canterbury. I'm only plain Jack Jarwin, seaman, but if
you or any other man thinks--"
"Come, come," cried one of the men in a tone of authority, starting
forward and thrusting Jarwin's assailant violently aside, "none o' that
sort o' thing here. Keep your fists for the niggers, Bill, we're all
brothers here, you know; an affectionate family, so to speak!"
There was a general laugh at this. Bill retired sulkily, and Jarwin sat
down to a plate of hot "lob-scouse," which proved to be very good, and
of which he stood much in need.
For several days our hero was left very much to himself. The schooner
sped on her voyage with a fair wind, and the men were employed in light
work, or idled about the deck. No one interfered with Jarwin, but at
the same time no one became communicative. The captain was a very
silent man, and it was evident that the crew stood much in awe of him.
Of course Jarwin's suspicions as to the nature of the craft were
increased by all this, and from some remarks which he overheard two or
three days after his coming on board, he felt convinced that he had
fallen into bad company. Before a week had passed, this became so
evident that he made up his mind to leave the vessel at the very first
opportunity.
One day he went boldly to the captain and demanded to know the nature of
the trade in which the schooner was employed and their present
destination. He was told that that was no business of his, that he had
better go forward and mind his duty without more ado, else he should be
pitched overboard. The captain used such forcible language when he said
this, and seemed so thoroughly in earnest, that Jarwin felt no longer
any doubt as to his true character.
"I'll tell you what it is, my lad," said the captain, "my schooner is a
trader or a man-of-war according to circumstances, and I'm a free man,
going where I choose and doing what I please. I treat my men well when
they do their duty; when they don't I make 'em walk the plank. No doubt
you know what that means. If you don't we shall soon teach you. Take
to-night to think over it. To-morrow morning I'll have a question or
two to ask you. There--go!"
Jarwin bowed submissively and retired.
That night the moon shone full and clear on the wide ocean's breast, and
Jarwin stood at the bow of the schooner, looking sadly over the side,
and patting his little dog gently on the head.
"Cuffy, you and me's in a fix, I suspect," he murmured in a low tone;
"but cheer up, doggie, a way to escape will turn up no doubt."
He had scarcely uttered the words when his eye fell on the distant
outline of land on the lee bow. He started, and gazed with fixed
intensity for some minutes, under the impression that it might perhaps
be a fog-bank lighted by the moon, but in a short time it became so
distinct that there could be no doubt it was land. He pointed it out to
the watch on deck, one of whom said carelessly that he had seen it for
some time, and that there were plenty more islands of the same sort in
these seas.
Jarwin walked aft and stood near the lee gangway contemplating the
island in silence for some time. A small oar lay at his feet. Suddenly
he conceived the daring idea of seizing this, plunging overboard and
attempting to swim to land. He was a splendid swimmer, and although the
island appeared to be more than two miles distant, he did not fear
failure. A moment's reflection, however, convinced him that the men on
deck would certainly hear the plunge, heave the ship to, and lower a
boat, in which case he should be immediately overtaken. Still, being
resolved to escape at all hazards, he determined to make the venture.
Fastening a rope to a belaying pin, he tied the oar to it and lowered it
over the side until it trailed in the water, he then lifted Cuffy, who
was almost always near him, on to the side of the vessel, with a whisper
to keep still. The watch paced the weather side of the deck conversing
in low tones. The steersman could, from his position, see both
gangways, and although the light was not strong enough to reveal what
Jarwin was about, it was too strong to admit of his going bodily over
the side without being observed. He, therefore, walked slowly to the
head of the vessel, where he threw over the end of a small rope. By
means of this, when the watch were well aft, he slid noiselessly into
the sea, hanging on by one hand and supporting Cuffy with the other.
Once fairly in the water he let go, the side of the vessel rubbed
swiftly past him, and he all but missed grasping the oar which trailed
at the gangway. By this he held on for a few seconds to untie the rope.
He had just succeeded and was about to let go, when, unfortunately, the
handle of the oar chanced to hit the end of Cuffy's nose a severe blow.
The poor dog, therefore, gave vent to a loud yell of pain. Instantly
Jarwin allowed himself to sink and held his breath as long as he
possibly could, while Cuffy whined and swam on the surface.
Meanwhile the men on deck ran to the side. "Hallo!" cried one, "it's
Jarwin's little dog gone overboard."
"Let it go," cried another with a laugh; "it's a useless brute and eats
a power o' grub."
"I say, wot a splashin' it do kick up," he added as the little dog was
left astern making vain efforts to clamber on the oar. "Why, lads,
there's somethin' else floatin' beside it, uncommon like a seal. Are
'ee sure, Bill, that Jarwin hasn't gone overboard along with his dog?"
"Why no," replied Bill; "I seed him go forward a little ago; besides it
ain't likely he'd go over without givin' a shout."
"I dun know that," said the other; "he might have hit his head again'
somethin' in tumblin' over."
By this time the objects in question were almost out of sight astern.
In a few minutes more a dark cloud covered the moon and effectually shut
them out from view.
Just then the Captain came on deck, and asked what was wrong.
"Fools!" he exclaimed, in a voice of thunder, on being told, "lower the
gig. Look sharp! Don't you see the land, you idiots? The man's away
as well as the dog."
In a few seconds the topsails were backed and the boat lowered, manned,
and pushed off.
But Jarwin heard and saw nothing of all this. He was now far astern,
for the vessel had been going rapidly through the water.
On coming to the surface after his dive he caught hold of Cuffy, and,
with a cheering word or two, placed him on his back, telling him to hold
on by his paws the best way he could. Then grasping the end of the oar,
and pointing the blade land-wards, he struck out vigorously with his
legs.
It was a long and weary swim, but as his life depended on it, the seaman
persevered. When he felt his strength giving way, he raised not only
his heart but his voice in prayer to God, and felt restored each time
that he did so. Just as he neared the shore, the sound of oars broke on
his ears, and presently he heard the well-known voice of the Captain
ordering the men to pull hard. Fortunately it was by this time very
dark. He landed without being discerned. The surf was heavy, but he
was expert in rough water, went in on the top of a billow, and was
safely launched on a soft sandy beach, almost at the same moment with
the boat. The latter was, however, at a considerable distance from him.
He crept cautiously up the shore until he gained a thicket, and then,
rising, he plunged into the woods and ran straight before him until he
was exhausted, carrying the little dog in his arms. Many a fall and
bruise did the poor fellow receive in his progress, but the fear of
being retaken by the pirates--for such he felt convinced they were--lent
him wings. The Captain and his men made a long search, but finally gave
it up, and, returning to the boat, pushed off. Jarwin never saw them
again.
He and Cuffy lay where they had fallen, and slept, wet though they were,
till the sun was high. They were still sleeping when a native chief of
the island, happening to pass along the beach, discerned Jarwin's
footsteps and traced him out. This chief was an immensely large
powerful man, armed with a heavy club. He awoke the sailor with a kick,
and spoke in a language which he did not understand. His gestures,
however, said plainly enough, "Get up and come along with me," so Jarwin
thought it best to obey. Of course whatever Jarwin thought, Cuffy was
of precisely the same opinion. They therefore quietly got up and
followed the big chief to his village, where they were received by a
large concourse of savages with much excitement and curiosity.