We were thus employed when the carpenter came to the captain with
consternation in his countenance, and told him that the pumps would no
longer work, for, the shot-lockers being destroyed, the shot as well as
the ballast had got into the well, and completely choked it up.
"Well, my lads," cried the captain, "we must try what baling will do,
and lightening the ship by every means in our power."
Those who had been working at the pumps, and some others, were now
divided into gangs under different officers, and were employed in
getting rid of the heaviest things which could be reached. Some hove
the guns overboard, others got up the weightier stores, the boatswain's
party being engaged in chopping up the cables and throwing them into the
sea.
While my messmates and I were hard at work with the rest, I saw the
captain beckon Nettleship to him. They talked for a minute or more.
Directly afterwards Nettleship came to where Tom and I were at work with
Larry and some of the men. "The captain has given me charge to try and
save some of you youngsters," he said. "Life is sweet, and I won't deny
that I am glad to have the chance of preserving my own with honour. You
tell Tom Pim and your boy Larry. I'll speak to some of our other
messmates, and try to pick out a few trusty men who I know are cool
hands, and we will try and get a boat into the water. It will be no
easy matter,--it may, I warn you, hasten our deaths; but the captain is
satisfied that the ship can't float many hours longer. He argued the
point, and showed me that if we don't get off as he directed, we shall
not escape at all, as numbers will be rushing for the boats when they
discover that the ship must go down."
Matters were growing rapidly worse. Even now I don't like to think of
that dreadful night which followed. When morning broke, the number of
ships in sight had much diminished. The sea raged as furiously as ever,
the wind blew with fearful force. All hands had been toiling away.
Nearly every one began to see that our efforts had been in vain. A loud
noise was heard like that of an explosion coming from far down in the
depths of the ship. The carpenter reported that the water in the hold
had blown up the orlop deck. It was very evident that the ship was
settling down. Many of the men who had been looked upon as the bravest
now gave way to despair, and went below, crying out to their messmates
to come and lash them into their hammocks. Other stout fellows were in
tears as they thought of their country and those dear to them, whom they
were never to see again. Some, though they must have known it would be
of no use, were lashing themselves to gratings and small rafts, which
they had formed of spars. Larry wanted me to do the same.
"Shure, Mr Terence, you and Mr Pim and I will be able to manage a raft
between us, and we'll get aboard one of the ships in better plight than
we are," he said.
I pointed out to him the distance the ships were from us, and the
impossibility of reaching one of them. Some of the poor fellows
launched their rafts overboard, but were quickly swallowed up by the
sea. Even the lieutenants went below; and, strange as it may seem, few
of the men remained on deck. Tom Pim and I, however, kept together,
with Larry, who would not leave me. Presently Nettleship came up.
"Now is our time, lads, if we're to save our lives. I have spoken to
those whom the captain named, but none of them will come. They shake
their heads, and declare it useless."
One of the quarter boats still remained uninjured. We went to her and
found six of our men, one of whom was Larry, standing by the falls ready
to lower her. Nettleship told us to jump in, there was not a moment to
be lost. We found that he had put masts, and sails, and oars, and
provisions aboard. Waiting till a sea surged up alongside, he and the
men sprang into her.
"Cut, cut!" he cried.
The next instant I found that the boat was some fathoms from the ship.
All was done so rapidly, and it seemed only by a miracle we got clear,
that I can scarcely explain how it happened. I looked around, when what
was my dismay to find that Tom was not with us. Looking up, I saw him
on the deck.
"Leap! leap!" shouted Nettleship, though in the uproar his voice could
not have been heard so far. Next instant Tom was in the water, striking
out towards us.
"We have already as many aboard as the boat will carry," cried some of
the men.
What we had been about had been discovered by our unfortunate shipmates,
who were now crowding to the side and shouting to us to return. Several
in their fear leaped into the sea, but immediately disappeared. I
caught sight of one head still above water. It was Tom Pim.
"Oh, take him in--take him in!" I cried out.
The men were getting out the oars. We were still, it must be
understood, under the lee of the ship, or we should instantly have been
swamped.
"We must have that lad aboard," exclaimed Nettleship sternly. "I'll not
try to save you if you desert him."
Tom struck out bravely. Larry and I stretched out our arms, and,
catching hold of him, hauled him on board the boat. Several others, now
leaping into the water, tried to reach us, but, had we attempted to save
them, we should to a certainty have perished together.
Nettleship sprang aft to the helm.
"Now, lads, step the mast and hoist the sail," he shouted. "Get out the
starboard oars."
In another instant the boat was before the wind, a cable's length from
the ship. We could scarcely believe that we were saved; indeed, every
moment it seemed as if the fierce foaming seas would break aboard us and
send us to the bottom. I could not resist still looking at the ship,
nor could Tom Pim. He presently exclaimed--
"There's another boat being launched."
We both saw her for a moment, but she presently disappeared.
"She's gone," cried Tom.
"No--no, there she is," I exclaimed, as I caught sight of her on the
summit of a sea, and again she sank out of view. As far as I could make
out, there were several people in her, but she had no sail hoisted, and
consequently in those foaming seas rising up between us was scarcely
visible.
We ran on, steering to the southward. Most of the hands were employed
all the time in baling out the water, while Nettleship's whole attention
was engaged in steering the boat, for he well knew that with the
slightest want of care she would have filled in an instant. It seemed a
wonder, indeed, that she could float in the midst of those foaming seas.
Tom and I still kept looking at the ship.
"She is sinking lower and lower," said Tom.
I hoped that he was mistaken, and that she appeared to be so only
because we were getting farther from her.
Not many minutes afterwards, as I looked, a huge sea rolled up towards
her.
The next instant Tom cried out, "She's gone!" I rubbed my eyes. The
foaming waters raged over the spot where the old _Cerberus_ had floated;
and I knew too well that every one of our helpless shipmates had
perished, unless the other boat had got safely off. Their fate might be
ours before long, we all knew, though we did not despair.
Nettleship's first care was to see what provisions we had got. We found
that we had but two quart bottles of water, a bag of biscuits, a small
ham, a single piece of pork, and three bottles of French cordials.
These he had placed in the stern-sheets, that they might be kept dry,
and that none of the men might be tempted to take more than their share.
We might be days, or even weeks, before we were picked up or reached
land. Nettleship pointed out to us the importance of husbanding our
stores. The afternoon was far gone before we left the ship, and night
was now approaching, while the gale had shown no signs of abating.
Humanly speaking, our lives depended on Nettleship's steering. There
was everything to try the skill and nerves of a man; but it was
difficult in the darkness to watch the seas coming up so as to avoid
those likely to break aboard.
He sat in the stern-sheets like a figure of iron, his countenance fixed,
his eyes turned now ahead, now on one, now on the other side. He seldom
spoke, for his attention was occupied with the task he had undertaken.
Older seamen had given in, while his courage and resolution had remained
unshaken.
I had always liked him, ever since I joined the _Liffy_, but now I
admired and respected him above all men, barring my uncle the major, who
would, I am sure, have acted in the same way, though he might not have
had the nautical skill to steer the boat.
"Stretch yourselves as best you can, youngsters, in the stern-sheets,
and go to sleep," said Nettleship; "I intend to steer till daylight, and
then let either Hunt or Ray (they were two quartermasters) take the
helm."
"But I don't like to leave you without company," I said.
"Don't trouble yourself about that, Paddy," he answered; "the seas are
my company, and precious rough company they are too; they'll prevent me
nodding."
He laughed at his own remark.
At last Tom and I did as he advised us; indeed, we couldn't keep our
eyes open longer, for we had had no sleep, lashed as we had been to the
bulwarks on the previous night.
We both of us slept on right through the night. I awoke with a weary
heart-sinking feeling. Dawn was already casting a grey light over the
still troubled ocean. Clouds hung thickly overhead; the seas seemed to
reach them as they rose up on either side.
There sat Nettleship, wide awake, his hand on the tiller, his eyes
wearing a pained expression, as well they might, looking round watching
the waves as they hissed up, threatening to overwhelm us. No one was
speaking. Most of the men sat with their arms folded and their heads
bent down, still fast asleep. I believe that Nettleship had been the
only one awake among us during the night.
"The wind has fallen, and the sea has gone down considerably, Paddy," he
said, looking at me. "Cheer up, lad; we shall save our lives after all,
I believe."
Tom, hearing him speak, awoke.
"I wish you would let me take the helm, Nettleship," he said.
"No, no, Tom! The responsibility is too much to impose on you; I'll let
Hunt steer presently."
First one man woke up, then another, and another; but they all looked
round with lack-lustre eyes and gloomy countenances. After some time,
Tom shouted out that there was a break in the clouds to the eastward.
Just then a ray of bright light streamed across the ocean, tinging the
foam-topped seas with a ruddy hue.
"It's the harbinger of better weather," I said.
"You're right, sir," observed Hunt. "It will be our own fault if we
don't manage to keep the boat afloat."
I saw Nettleship for the first time showing signs of sleepiness. He
aroused himself for the moment, and called to Hunt to take the helm.
The quartermaster stepped aft, and Nettleship, resigning his seat to
him, a moment afterwards was fast asleep.
The men now cried out that they were very hungry, and Pim and I agreed
that it would be better to serve out some food without awaking
Nettleship. We gave each man a biscuit and a small piece of ham. The
neck of a broken bottle was the only measure we had for serving out the
water. The quantity was but just sufficient to moisten our lips, but
not to quench our thirst. The men asked for more, but Tom told them
that until Nettleship awoke he couldn't give them any.
Though the weather was moderating, the wind went down very slowly, and
the seas tossed and tumbled with almost as much violence as before. It
was noon when Nettleship awoke. He approved of the allowance Tom and I
had served out.
"But, my lads," he said, "you see these two bottles of water. We don't
know how long we may have to go before we get more, so you must make up
your minds to do with the allowance you have already had to-day. I'll
take no more."
He then told Tom and me to give him what we had given the rest; and,
after eating the biscuit and bit of ham, he drank the bottle-neck full
of water. My own sensations made me hope that we should not have many
days to live on so small an allowance. Still, though my throat felt
like a dust-bin, I determined to support Nettleship, and I knew Tom
would do so, in whatever he thought necessary. We ran on all day, the
wind going down very slowly. At noon, Ray took the helm. Whether he
steered with less care, or, as I think, the seas broke in a different
way, two in succession came aboard, and we had to bale as fast as we
could, to get the water out of the boat. As it came in, it washed right
aft and wetted through our bag of biscuits, which Tom and I in vain
tried to save. Nettleship didn't blame Ray, but warned him to be more
careful.
"I intend to steer to-night," he said, "so I'll finish out my snooze,
and call me at sundown."
Both Hunt and Ray asked him to let them steer during part of the night,
but he was firm.
"No," he answered; "your lives are entrusted to me, and it's my duty to
keep at the helm while there's most likely to be danger."
Tom and I, however, determined to have our eyes open, so as to make
company for him during part of the night, which, it being summer time,
was fortunately not long. Had it been in the winter, none of us could
have survived. Nettleship appeared to have completely recovered
himself. I sat up through part of the night, and Tom through the
remainder. We talked cheerfully and hopefully. When I lay down, I
slept as soundly as I ever did in my bed. Towards morning, I suppose it
was, I dreamed of the various scenes I had gone through since I came to
sea, among others of the earthquake at Savannah, and then I was looking
out into the barrack-yard, and there was Larry fiddling away, with
soldiers and blacks dancing to his music,--everything seemed so vivid
that I had no doubt about its reality. Then Mr Talboys and Lucy and
Captain Duffy came in and joined in the dance. I thought it very good
fun, so I ran down and began to dance, and who should I see but the
admiral and captain and old Rough-and-Ready, each with a black partner,
and there we were jigging away right merrily, till I awoke, to find
myself in the stern-sheet of the boat, and to see Nettleship steering,
while the notes of Larry's fiddle sounded in my ears. There, sure
enough, he was, seated on the after-thwart, with the fiddle at his chin,
working away with right good-will. I sat up and looked at him with
amazement.
"Shure, Mr Terence, I wasn't going to leave that behind after it had
been saved from fire and water, so I took it into the boat the first
thing, and Mr Nettleship gave me leave to play it, just to cheer up he
boys a bit."
The music had certainly had that effect, for all the people wore more
cheerful countenances than they did the day before. Larry, however, put
his fiddle back in its case while breakfast was served out. It
consisted only of wet biscuit, a modicum of ham, and a small taste of
liquor. The water Nettleship said he should keep till mid-day, to serve
out with the pork.
The sea was still rough, though there was much less than on the previous
day, and careful steering was necessary to keep the boat free from
water. As there was nothing for the men to do, Nettleship advised us to
spin yarns and sing songs in the intervals of Larry's playing. He was
ready enough to go on moving his bow as long as he had leave.
During the day the clouds cleared away, and the sea went down still
more. We were thankful for this, as we could now dry our clothes, and,
what was of more importance, our biscuits, and move about in the boat to
stretch our limbs. But then, again, with a calm we might be delayed,
and, after all, perish from hunger and thirst. Nettleship, I daresay,
thought this, but notwithstanding cheered us up with the hopes of
reaching land or being taken on board some vessel. Next night passed
much as the others had done. The sun rose in a clear sky, and as it got
above the horizon the wind dropped, and there appeared every likelihood
of a perfect calm. Our scanty provisions were served out, and then
Nettleship, as he had done the day before, set us to spinning yarns and
singing; but even those who had the best voices could scarcely bring out
a note, and several appeared but little inclined to talk. Larry,
however, kept his fiddle going, and Tom and I talked, and tried to draw
out the men to tell something about themselves. At last my throat felt
like a dust-bin, and I suspect the rest were very much in the same
condition. There we were, floating out in the Atlantic, hundreds of
miles away from help, as far as we could tell, and the calm might
continue after the gale for a week or more. At last Nettleship ordered
the men to get out the oars.
"We may pull into a breeze, lads, perhaps," he said. "At all events, we
shall get so much nearer land."
Tom and I each took an oar to encourage the rest, half of us pulling at
a time. We had been at the oars for some five or six hours, when
towards evening, Nettleship, who had been standing up shading his eyes,
said--
"Lads, there's a sail in sight; she has a light breeze, and is standing
to the northward. We shall, I hope, get up to her; but mark you, she
may be English, but she may be French, and in that case we shall be made
prisoners."
"That won't be much odds," said one of the men; "better be made
prisoners than die of hunger and thirst out here."
That was true enough, but I didn't like the thoughts of the alternative.
When Nettleship, however, said that he was determined to try and come
up with the stranger, the men bent to their oars. Tom and I, at the
time, were now pulling, and I was surprised to see the strength the men
still possessed.
Gradually the stranger's topgallant-sails, and then the heads of her
topsails, rose above the horizon.
"She's a large ship, no doubt about that," said Nettleship. "Cheer up,
lads! my belief is she's English, but we shall be better able to judge
when we see her courses."
We were now steering west-and-by-north, so as to cut her off. After
going some distance, Nettleship called to Tom Pim to stand up in the
stern-sheets, and take a look at the stranger.
"What do you think of the cut of her canvas, Tom?" he asked. "Is that
English or French?"
"I should say English," answered Tom, "but we must get nearer to be
certain."
"Have you made up your minds to a French prison, lads, if we're
mistaken?" again said Nettleship.
"Better a French prison with food and water, than out here starving to
death," answered the men. "And we'll ask you, Mr Nettleship, for a
drink of water apiece. We'll get aboard her before dark, and our
throats are terribly dry."
"I warn you, lads, that a breeze may spring up, and that even now we may
miss her; and what shall we do if we have no water left?" said
Nettleship.
Still the men cried out for water. I could judge how my companions felt
by my own sensations. Nettleship reluctantly served out a double
allowance, leaving scarcely a quarter of a bottleful,--the other had
before been exhausted. The sun was sinking low, and we had not yet seen
the hull of the ship. Nettleship looked more anxious than before. The
men strained every nerve, for they believed that their lives depended on
their getting up to the ship before dark.
Some of them now called out for food, and declared that they could pull
no longer without it; others asked for the remainder of the water.
Accordingly, while one half rested, Nettleship served out a portion of
our remaining stock of provisions. The other half then took a meal.
This, however, only made us all more thirsty, and again the cry rose
of--
"Water! water! We must have it, or we shall have to give in!"
Nettleship seemed to think that it would be useless to resist their
entreaties, and with a look of desperation he divided the remainder of
the water, leaving not a drop at the bottom of the last bottle.
Rapidly the sun sank towards the horizon. In a short time it would be
dark, and we should have no chance of being seen from the ship. The men
cried out for the remainder of the liquor, saying that they could pull
all the better if they could get it. This, also, to my surprise,
Nettleship served out to them,--the bottle-neck full to each of us, for
we all shared alike,--and again they pulled as lustily as before for a
short time; but we all felt our thirst increased. Few of them spoke;
but Larry every now and then gave a shout, or made some comic remark to
encourage his companions. Nettleship also did his best to keep up our
spirits.
Darkness, however, was fast approaching; the wind appeared to be
freshening, and, should a strong breeze fill the stranger's sails, all
hope of getting alongside her before she passed us would be lost. Not a
word was now uttered; but every now and then the men turned their heads
to ascertain what progress we were making.
Nettleship now steered the boat rather more to the northward.
Presently a light streamed out towards us across the water. Again our
hopes of getting on board increased. The wind once more dropped.
"We shall reach her, lads!" cried Nettleship at length, in a confident
tone.
The men cheered, though their voices sounded husky, the ring of a
British seaman's voice sadly wanting. They pulled bravely on, however.
The light rose higher above the surface. It was now almost ahead. Then
another streamed forth from a port. Presently Nettleship's voice rang
out clear and loud--
"Ship ahoy! What ship is it?"
"His Britannic Majesty's ship _Hector_. What boat is that?" came over
the water.
Nettleship replied.