"Bring me a hen-coop, Quin," he said to the steward, who, having so far
completed his morning work, and consumed his morning meal, was smoking
his pipe, seated on the rail beside Tips. Tips was an admirer of the
Irishman, and, in consequence, an imitator as far as he dared and was
permitted.
"Lend a hand, ye spalpeen," said Quin, going forward, and quickly
returning with the coop, from which a cackling of strong remonstrance
issued.
"Will ye have the other wan too, sor?"
"Yes, and the main-hatch besides, and a lot of spun-yarn. Of course
that's not strong enough for real service, but it will do for
illustration."
In a few minutes the two hen-coops were placed face to face and lashed
firmly together, despite the remonstrative poultry. Then the main-hatch
was laid upon the top, and fixed there by means of the iron rings at its
four corners.
"Now, Quin, fetch four of the cabin chairs," said the operator, "and
observe, gentlemen, how much more easily and quickly this would have
been accomplished if the coops, and hatch, and chairs had been made to
fit into each other, with a view to this very purpose, with strong
straps and buckles in handy positions. Now, then, for the chairs."
At each corner of this extemporised raft Jackman fastened one of the
cabin chairs, pointing out, as he did so, that there was no limit to the
extension of the raft.
"You see," he continued, "all you would have to do, if the ship were
properly fitted out, would be to add chair to chair, bench to bench,
cork mattress to mattress, until your raft was as big as you wanted; or
you could make two or three rafts, if preferable."
"But sure, sor, it would be an unstiddy machine intirely, an' given to
wobblin'," said Quin, who was one of those privileged men who not only
work for their wages, but generously throw their opinions into the
bargain.
"It would not be more unsteady than the waves, Quin; and as to wobbling,
that would be an advantage, for a rigid raft in a rough sea would be
more liable to be damaged than one that was pliable."
The discussion about rafts and ship's boats which thus began was
continued with much interest till lunchtime, for it chanced that John
Barret was one of those men whose tendency of heart and mind is to turn
everything to its best uses, and generally to strive after the highest
point of perfection in everything, with a view to the advancement of
human felicity. This tendency called into exercise his inventive
faculties, inducing him to search after improvements of all
descriptions. Thus it was natural that he and Jackman should enter into
a keen controversy, as to what was the best method of constructing the
raft in detail; and that, when the faithful Quin announced lunch as
being, "riddy, sor," the life-saving machine was left in an incomplete
state on the deck.
The interest attaching to this discussion had helped the three comrades
and crew alike, to tide over what might otherwise have proved a tedious
forenoon, for during the whole of that day the dense fog and profound
calm continued.
On returning to the deck the discussion was continued for a time, but
gradually the interest flagged, then other subjects engaged attention,
and the raft was finally allowed to lie undisturbed and forgotten.
"I don't know how it is," said Bob Mabberly; "but somehow I always feel
a depression of spirits in a fog at sea."
"Explanation simple enough," returned Jackman; "are we not constantly
reading in the papers of ships being run down in fogs? Where there is
risk there is always in some minds anxiety--in your case you call it
depression of spirits."
"Your explanation, Giles, uncomplimentary to me though it be, might have
some force if we were just now in the Channel, where being run down in
fog is an event of frequent occurrence; but here, in a comparatively
unfrequented sea, it would be strange indeed were I to be influenced by
such possibilities. What say you, Captain?"
McPherson, who had sauntered towards the group, gazed in the direction
where the horizon would have been visible had the fog been absent, and
said:--
"Hm!--weel--" and then stopped, as if for the purpose of mature
consideration. The audience waited for the announcement of the oracle's
opinion.
"Oo ay--weel, ye see, many persons are strangely influenced by
possibeelities, what-e-ver. There is a maiden aunt o' my own--she wass
niver marrit, an' she wass niver likely to be, for besides bein' poor
an' plain, an' mittle-aged, which are not in my opeenion objectionable,
she had an uncommon bad temper. Yet she wass all her life influenced by
the notion that half the young men o' the place wass wantin' to marry
her! though the possibeelities in her case wass fery small."
"I should like to 'ave know'd that old gurl!" whispered Tips to Quin.
"Howld your tongue, ye spalpeen!" whispered his friend in reply.
"Have you any idea, Captain, where we are now?" asked Jackman.
"Oo ay, we're somewhere's wast'ard o' the Lewis. But whether wast,
nor'-wast, or sooth-wast, I could not say preceesely. The nicht, ye
see, wass uncommon dark, an' when the fog came doon i' the mornin', I
could na' feel sure we had keep it the richt coorse, for the currents
hereaboots are strang. But we'll see whan it comes clear."
"Do you believe in presentiments, Giles?" asked Barret, in an unusually
grave tone.
"Of course I do," answered Jackman. "I have a presentiment just now
that you are going to talk nonsense."
Barret was not, however, to be silenced by his friend's jest.
"Listen," he said, earnestly, as he rose and stood in an attitude of
intense attention. "It may be imagination playing with the subjects of
our recent conversation, but I cannot help thinking that I hear the
beating of paddles."
"Keep a sherp look-oot, Shames," cried the skipper, suddenly, as he went
forward with unwonted alacrity.
A few minutes more and the sound which had at first been distinguished
only by Barret's sharp ear, became audible to all--the soft regular
patting of a paddle-wheel steamer in the distance, yet clearly coming
towards them. Presently a shrill sound, very faint but prolonged, was
heard, showing that she was blowing her steam-whistle as a precaution.
"Strange, is it not, that the very thing we have been talking about
should happen?" said Mabberly.
"Nay," returned Jackman, lightly, "we were talking about being run down,
and we have not yet come to that."
"The strangest thing of all to me," said Barret, "is that, with a wide
ocean all round, vessels should ever run into each other at all, at
least on the open sea, for there is only one line, a few feet wide, in
favour of such an accident, whereas there are thousands of miles against
it."
Jackman, who was a great theorist, here propounded a reason for this.
"If vessels would only hold straight on their courses, you see," he
said, "the accident of collision would be exceedingly rare, for,
although thousands of ships might pass near to each other, not one in
ten thousand would meet; but when vessels come pretty near, their
commanders sometimes become anxious, take fancies into their heads, as
to each having forgotten the `rules of the road,' and each attempting to
correct the other--as we do sometimes in the streets--they bring about
the very disaster they are trying to avoid."
"Had we not better ring the bell, Captain?" cried Mabberly, in rising
excitement.
"Oo ay, if you think so, sir. Ring, poy!"
The boy, who was getting alarmed, seized the tongue of the ship's bell,
and rang with all his might. Whether this had the effect to which
Jackman had referred, we cannot tell, but next moment what appeared to
be a mountain loomed out of the mist. The steam-whistle had been silent
for some time, but as soon as the bell was heard it burst forth with
increased fury. From the instant her form was dimly seen the fate of
the yacht was sealed. There was a wild shouting on board the steamer,
but there was no time for action.
"Starboard hard!" was the cry.
"Starboard it is!" was the immediate answer. But before the helm could
act, the great rushing mass struck the _Fairy_ amidships, and literally
cut her in two!
The awful suddenness of a catastrophe, which those on board had just
been arguing was all but impossible, seemed to have paralysed every one,
for no one made the slightest effort to escape. Perhaps the appearance
of the wall-like bow of the steamer, without rope or projection of any
kind to lay hold of, or jump at, might have conveyed the swift
perception that their case was hopeless. At all events, they all went
under with the doomed yacht, and nothing was left in the wake of the
leviathan but a track of foam on the mist-encumbered sea.
But they were not lost! One after another the wrecked party rose
struggling to the surface, and all of them could swim except the boy.
Giles Jackman was the first who rose. Treading water and brushing the
hair out of his eyes, he gazed wildly about. Barret came up close
beside him, almost a moment later. He had barely taken breath, when the
others rose at various distances. A cry not far from him caused him to
turn. It was poor Robin Tips, struggling for life. A few powerful
strokes carried Barret alongside. He got behind the boy, caught him
under the armpits, and thus held him, at arm's length, until he could
quiet him.
"There is a spar, thank God! Make for it, Barret, while I see to Quin,"
shouted Jackman.
As he spoke, they could hear the whistle of the steamer rushing away
from them.
Barret, forcing himself breast-high out of the water, glanced quickly
round, and caught sight of the floating spar, to which his companion had
referred. Although only a few yards off, the fog rendered it almost
invisible.
"Are you quiet now?" demanded Barret, in a stern voice, for the
terrified boy still showed something like a hysterical determination to
turn violently round, and grasp his rescuer in what would probably have
turned out to be the grip of death.
"Yes, sir, oh! yes. But d-don't let me go! M-mind, I can't swim!"
"You are perfectly safe if you simply do nothing but what I tell you,"
returned Barret, in a quiet, ordinary tone of voice, that reassured the
poor lad more than the words.
By way of reply he suddenly became motionless, and as limp as a dead
eel.
Getting gradually on his back, and drawing Tips slowly on to his chest,
so that he rested with his mouth upwards, and his head entirely out of
the water, Barret struck out for the spar, swimming thus on his back.
On reaching it, he found to his surprise that it was the experimental
raft, and that the captain, Mabberly, and McGregor were already clinging
to it.
"Won't bear us all, I fear," said Mabberly; "but thank God that we have
it. Put the boy on."
In order to do this, Barret had to get upon the raft, and he found that
it bore him easily as well as the boy.
"Have you seen Jackman?" asked Mabberly.
"Yes," replied Barret, rising and looking round.
"Here he comes, towing Quin, I think, who seems to be stunned. Hallo!
This way--hi! Giles!"
But Giles suddenly ceased to swim, turned over on his back, and lay as
if dead.
"Rescue, Bob, rescue!" shouted Barret, plunging into the water.
Mabberly followed, and soon had hold of Giles and his man by the hair.
"All right!" said Jackman, turning round; "I was only taking a rest. No
one lost, I hope?"
"No; all safe, so far."
"You can tow him in now. I'm almost used up," said Jackman, making for
the raft. "He's only stunned, I think."
It was found that the Irishman had in truth been only stunned when they
lifted him on to the raft, for he soon began to show signs of returning
life, and a large bump on his head sufficiently explained the nature of
his injury.
But when the whole party had cautiously clambered up on the raft it sank
so deep that they scarcely dared to move. To make matters worse, they
clearly distinguished the steamer's whistle going farther and farther
away, as if she were searching for them in a wrong direction. This was
indeed the case, and although they all shouted singly and together, the
whistle grew fainter by degrees, and finally died away.
With feelings approaching to despair, the crew of the frail raft began
to talk of the prospect before them, when they were silenced by a slight
movement in the mist. The white curtain was lifted for a few yards, and
revealed to their almost incredulous eyes a rocky shore, backed by a
range of precipitous cliffs, with a wild mountainous region beyond.
As the sea was still perfectly calm, there was no surf. Our castaways,
therefore, with the exception of Quin and the boy, quietly slipped into
the water, and, with thankful hearts, propelled the raft vigorously
towards the shore.