Homeward Bound
For the rest of that fateful day the greatest despondency prevailed
amongst our crew. The fate of their devoted comrades, whose lives
had been thrown away in a useless attempt to save a worthless lot of
mutineers, weighed heavily on their minds. Even the thought of the
treasure being safe in our possession hardly asserted itself.
But with the morning there came a change. The storm, short and
fierce, had blown itself out, and once more the tropical sun poured
its scorching rays upon the gently heaving waters. Not only had the
_Neptune_ disappeared from view, but the gale had swept away the few
remaining fragments of the pirate ship _Black Arrow_, so that
another link with the adventurous past had been severed.
Seamen, from their constant exposure and peril, are ever ready to
rise above their misfortunes, though these are not easily forgotten;
and so it was with the crew of the _Golden Hope_. The dejected mien
so observable on the preceding day gave place to a bustle of
activity, for much had to be done ere we were ready to weigh anchor
and set sail on our homeward voyage.
The brig had to be careened, so that as much as possible of the
thick deposit of weeds and barnacles 'neath the waterline could be
scraped off; while ashore great cauldrons of pitch bubbled over the
fires, for much paying and caulking of seams had to be done ere the
_Golden Hope_ could be deemed sufficiently seaworthy for her long
voyage.
While the work was in progress Captain Jeremy ordered a party of men
to remove the false landmark, and to place in the former position of
the clump of trees a tall pole, surmounted by a large triangle
conspicuously painted black and white. Without this mark it would be
well-nigh impossible to get our correct bearings, and the _Golden
Hope_ would doubtless share the fate of the ill-starred _Neptune_
unless we took the narrow channel by which the _Antelope_ had
arrived. But this course would be impracticable with the winds
prevailing at this time of the year, hence the importance of the
newly erected pole.
At length the scraping and pitching of the brig's hull was
completed, and the _Golden Hope_ rode once more on an even keel. The
work of transporting the treasure from the stockade was now carried
out in earnest, and without mishap the whole of the precious stuff
was safely stowed in the _Golden Hope's_ strong room, under the poop
deck.
This done, it was thought prudent to dismantle and evacuate the
stockade.
The ordnance was removed and taken aboard the brig; the powder, of
which we had a considerable reserve, was carefully stowed in her
magazines. Silas Touchstone had proposed to destroy the stockade and
the buildings within it by fire, but to this proposal Captain Jeremy
refused to give his consent, observing that they might be useful to
any castaways who might have the misfortune to land on the island.
The small craft that had been taken from the buccaneers after their
rout by Silas Touchstone were beached as far as possible in the most
secluded part of the harbour. Though the wind and the sun would ere
long reduce them to mere wrecks, Captain Jeremy, in his humanity,
thought they might also be of service to others.
Then, having watered the ship, filling all the available barricoes
in addition to the tanks, for we knew not whether to make straight
for home or to put into Port Royal, we prepared to spend our last
night in the harbour of Treasure Island. Accordingly, having, as we
thought, finally severed our connection with the shore, we hoisted
in our boats, preparatory to making a start at dawn.
About an hour after sunset I was pacing the deck, when I heard a
hail from shore: "_Golden Hope_, ahoy!"
Several of the watch on deck also caught the cry, but, too
astonished to reply, they crowded to the bulwarks and listened with
awestruck feelings for a repetition of the hail.
Again the shout, "_Golden Hope_, ahoy!" pierced the darkness.
"Who can it be?" muttered one of the men. "All hands are aboard, for
they were mustered just before eight bells."
"I like it not," replied another, with a shudder. "'Tis the ghosts
of the slain men. We'll never reach home after this."
"Run and tell the Cap'n," suggested a third, with more good sense
than his comrades.
Just as Captain Jeremy came on deck the hail was again repeated.
"Who are ye, and what d'ye want?" shouted our Captain. He, too, was
puzzled by the mysterious cry. Something was shouted in reply, but
the words were unintelligible.
"Lower away a boat," ordered Captain Jeremy curtly.
The men moved aft to obey, obviously with reluctance.
"What are ye afraid of?" demanded our commander. "I'll go ashore in
her. Take arms and a lantern, and we'll soon sift this business."
The boat was lowered and the falls cleared, and the men, tumbling
into her, brought her round to the gangway. Here Captain Jeremy
stepped into the stern sheets, whither I followed, eager to solve
the mystery.
When within twenty yards of the shore the boat was turned till her
stern pointed landwards. Captain Jeremy stood up, striving by the
aid of the lantern that one of the men held behind him to penetrate
the darkness. I could distinguish a knot of men close to the water's
edge.
"Who are ye, and what d'ye want?" repeated Captain Jeremy.
"We've come back," replied a voice that I failed to recognize. Then,
after a pause, it continued: "Tom Cherry and the long-boat's crew."
"Run her ashore, men," shouted Captain Jeremy excitedly, and as the
boat's forepart grounded on the shingle our men jumped out to
welcome those who we thought were dead.
They were all present, nine all told, but with what a change in
their appearance! Even the yellow light of the lantern failed to
disguise the pale, gaunt features of Tom Cherry and his men. Their
clothes were in rags, and shoes they had none, though most of the
poor fellows had their feet bound with strips of cloth.
"The boat's safe enow, sir," exclaimed Cherry feebly, as he raised
his hand to the salute with an effort. "She's----"
"Never mind that," replied our Captain. "Get aboard as fast as you
can, and don't say another word till you are fed and rested."
'Twas easy to order the men to hasten aboard the boat, but so weak
were they that they had to be assisted over the gunwale, while, to
get them over the side of the _Golden Hope_, a bos'n's chair had to
be rigged. At length they were safely aboard, where it was painful
to see the poor wretches devour the food that was given them. Had
they had their will, they would assuredly have killed themselves by
their ravenousness; but having supplied them with small quantities
of broth, Captain Jeremy ordered them to be placed in their hammocks
and fed again in an hour's time.
The return of Cherry and the long-boat's crew prevented our sailing
at the appointed time, for since their craft was, according to the
gallant coxswain, "safe and sound", Captain Jeremy decided to bring
it back to the ship, as it was the most useful boat we carried.
The sufferers recovered sufficiently by the morning to tell us of
their hazardous adventures. When caught by the squall they were
swept to leeward of the _Neptune_ just as she disappeared, but were
unable to save any of the mutineers. Every moment they expected to
find themselves struggling in the water, for the boat was being
carried right over the shoals, on which the breakers were falling
heavily. But for the presence of mind of Tom Cherry, who ordered the
mast and sail to be lashed to the grass rope and thrown overboard,
so that the boat's head was kept to the crested waves, the long-boat
would not have kept afloat. As it was, this floating anchor acted as
a kind of breakwater, much of the force of the waves being expended
ere they passed under the boat. Even then several seas broke over
it, necessitating continuous bailing.
Ere the rain squall ceased they had been carried past the
south-western extremity of the island, where, being more under the
lee of the land, and the sea being deeper, the waves did not run so
high. Nevertheless, in their exhausted condition, they could not
make headway, and when two oars broke they were compelled to let
themselves drift, riding in comparative safety to their sea anchor.
During the night the wind dropped and the sea subsided, but being
without a compass and unable to see the island in the darkness, they
had to drift about till nearly two hours after midnight. Then, the
sky becoming clear, they were enabled to take a rough bearing by the
stars. Dawn found them with the island nearly below the horizon, but
after five hours' hard and laborious pulling they managed to land at
a little cove at the south end.
Here they found a path leading northwards, and after several hours'
walk, during which time they made a sorry meal of berries and water,
they recognized their road as being the same as we had taken when we
recovered the treasure. After great privations, and filled with
fears that the _Golden Hope_ had sailed, they managed to struggle
through the forest by the path we had made during our first
expedition into the interior, and arrived at the shore, having lost
their way more than once in the intense darkness.
During the day one of our boats was dispatched to bring back the
long-boat. As Cherry had reported, she was practically undamaged,
and with a favourable breeze both craft were alongside the brig well
before sunset.
At daybreak on the following morning the welcome order to weigh was
given, and as the capstan revolved to the cheery song of the seamen
the anchor came home, after an acquaintance of nearly two years with
the bed of the bay.
The wind had again backed, and blew lightly from the north'ard, so
that it was unwise to attempt to beat through the shorter and more
recently discovered channel that passed inside the shoal on which I
had had such a hazardous adventure.
Nevertheless, we negotiated the bends of the other passage in
safety, thanks to the replacement of the navigation mark on shore,
though everyone was anxious till the lead gave a depth of forty
fathoms.
An hour later the highest peak of Treasure Island had vanished
'neath the horizon. We were homeward bound.