THE CHASE.
The reader will remember the fleet and beautiful slaver mentioned in
an early chapter, when lying off the port of Anapa. The same clipper
craft that had conveyed Komel away from her native shores, was
destined, singularly enough, to carry her back again, for this was
the vessel Selim had secretly purchased and prepared for his escape
with his companions from the domain of the Sultan. He was too good a
seaman not to manage affairs shrewdly, and though the coming night
was the one on which he had resolved to sail, yet the schooner
floated as lazily as ever at her moorings. The sails were closely
trailed, and the ropes and sheets coiled away as though they would
not be used for months again.
But could one have looked on board beneath her hatches, and out of
sight of the crowded shipping in the bay, he might have counted a
dozen stalwart youths, in the Greek costume, busily employed in
getting everything ready below for a quick run, and as the shadows
deepened over the Oriental scene, and the sun had fairly sunk to
rest behind the lofty summit of Bulgurlu, one or two of the crew
might have been seen quietly engaged here and there on deck, but
their lazy, indolent movements, rather speaking of a long stay at
their present anchorage than an idea of an early departure, and yet
a true seaman would have observed that they were loosing everything,
in place of making fast.
It was nearly midnight when Selim and his party, headed by Aphiz,
left his own ship in a small caique, and quietly pulled with muffled
oars, to the side of the schooner, which they boarded without
hailing. She had been moored the day previous without the outermost
of the shipping, and scarcely had the party got fairly on board,
when she slipped her cable, and showing the cap of her fore-topsail
to the gentle night air that set over the plains of Belgrade and
down the Valley of Sweet Waters, gradually floated away, until by
hoisting a few rings of the flying jib, her bows were brought round,
and she slipped off towards the Black Sea unnoticed.
Not so much as the creaking of a block had been permitted to disturb
the stillness, and now, when Capt. Selim felt too impatient not to
make the most of the favorable land breeze, only the light jigger
sail that was set so well aft as to reach far over the taffrail, was
unfurled easily and dropped into its place, swelling away
noiselessly. As impatient as he felt, he wished to skirt those
shores silently, and resolved to take every precaution that would
prevent a suspicion of the real hurry and anxiety that he felt
from evincing itself.
The cutter hugged the Bithynian shore until it had passed that
rendezvous for the caravans from Armenia and Persia, the favorite
city of Scutari, and then it gradually approached the sea, its
mainsail, foresail and topsails were spread, and before the first
gray of morning broke over the horizon of the sea, the cutter had
almost lost sight of the continent of Europe, and was swiftly
ploughing the waves of the great inland ocean. Classic waters!
laving the shores of Turkish Europe, Asia Minor, the broad coast of
Russia, and that ancient island of Crimea, and finally washing the
mountain coast of Circassia and Abrasia.
One of those short cross seas to which inland waters are so liable,
was running at the time, and there were evidences, too, of foul
weather, for the wind that sets from the north-east for
three-fourths of the season in these waters, had hauled more
westerly, and dark, ominous looking clouds obstructed the light of
the sun as it rose from the horizon. The wind came in sudden and
unequal gusts, now causing the clipper to careen till her topsail
yards almost dipped, and then permitting her to rise once more to
the upright position. Capt. Selim noted these signs well, for he
knew the character of these waters, and that these signs
prognosticated no favorable coming weather. His sails were first
reefed, then close reefed, and finally furled altogether, save a
fore-staysail, and the mainsail reduced to its smallest reef points.
While the clipper was scudding under this sail, a close lookout was
kept in her wake, for Selim knew very well that at farthest his
absence would only be concealed until the morning gun should fire,
when the fleetest ship in the Sultan's navy would be dispatched to
overtake him. And this was indeed the case, for just at this moment
there came to his side a young Greek, who acted as his first
officer, and pointing away astern in the south-western board, said:
"There is a man-of-war, sir, standing right in our wake hereaway."
"You are right--we are discovered, too, for he steers like a hawk on
the wing about to dive for its prey."
"He is close handed, sir, while we are running nearly free."
"Then he has not yet made out the schooner's bearings; keep her as
she is."
Watching the frigate, Selim still held on his course steadily, but
the size of the enemy enabled her to carry twice the amount of
canvass in proportion to her tonnage that he dared to do. Indeed, he
felt the fleet craft under his feet tremble beneath the force with
which she was driven through the water even now. As the morning
advanced, the frigate gained fast upon them, until at the suggestion
of Aphiz, the foresail, close reefed, was put upon the schooner, but
quickly taken in again. It was too evident that the gale was
increasing, as the bows of the schooner were every other minute
quite under water, then she would rise on the next wave to shake the
spray from her prow and side like a living creature, then boldly
dash forward again.
"That fellow is in earnest," said Selim to Aphiz, "and is determined
to have us, cost what it may. See, there goes his fore-to-gallant
sail clear out of the belt ropes. Heaven send he may carry away a
few more of sails, for he is overhauling us altogether too fast for
my liking."
"There goes a gun," said Aphiz.
"Ay, fire away, my hearties," said Selim, "you lose a little with
every recoil of that gun, and you can't reach us with anything that
carries powder in the Sultan's navy--I know your points."
"That shot struck a mile astern of us," said Aphiz.
"Yes, and at the present rate, it will take him nearly two hours to
overhaul us; but by that time, if the gale goes on increasing in
this style, he must take in his canvass or lose his masts over the
side."
Selim was right, the fury of the gale did increase, and he soon saw
the frigate furl sail after sail for her own security, and yet she
seemed under nearly bare poles to gain slowly on the schooner, and
was now ranging within long shot distance, and commenced now and
then to fire from her bow ports. But gunner, ever uncertain on the
water, is doubly so in a gale, and nearly all her shot were thrown
away, one now and then hitting the clipper, and causing a shower of
splinters to fly into the air as though the spray had broken over
the spot.
Chance did that for the frigate which all the skill of its gunner
could not have done, and a shot aimed at her running gear took a
slant upon the wave, and entered her side below the water line,
causing a leak that was not discovered until it was too late to
attempt its stoppage, and the schooner was slowly settling into the
sea.
In the meantime the gale had reached its height, and the frigate,
too intent on her own business, had long since ceased firing, and
had dashed by the clipper like a race-horse, with everything lashed
to the her decks and battened down. And now, when Selim discovered
the extent of the danger, and realized that ere long the schooner
must sink, he almost wished that the frigate, which had gone out of
sight far down to leeward, might be seen once more.
Already had the schooner leaked so fast as to drive the occupants
from the cabin to the quarter deck, and here, gathered in a small
group, they looked at each other in silence, for death seemed
inevitable.
"O, Selim! must we perish?" whispered his young and lovely Zillah.
"Dearest, I trust we may yet be saved. The gale will ere long
subside, and even now we are drifting towards the very coast that we
should have steered for had all been well with us."
This was so. The clipper, though gradually settling deeper and
deeper into the sea, was yet propelled before the breeze by all the
canvass that it was deemed prudent to place upon her, right towards
the Circassian coast, at a rate perhaps of from four to five knots.
The gale, too, now gradually subsided, and enabled the half-wrecked
people to take more comfortable positions, and Aphiz and Selim to
prepare a raft with the assistance of the crew, for it was but too
apparent that the schooner must go down before long. Hollow groaning
sounds issued from the hatches as she settled lower and lower, and
it really seemed as though the fabric was uttering exclamations of
pain at its untimely fate.
By unbinding and loosing the fore and main yards, a foundation was
made by lashing these spars together, upon which other timbers and
wood work was fastened, and in a few hours a broad and comparatively
comfortable raft was formed. But how to launch it? That was beyond
the power of all those on board united. To wait until the time when
the water should float it from the deck, would be to run the risk of
being engulfed with the schooner, and being drawn into the vortex of
water that would follow her going down, and thus meet a sure and
swift destruction.
But this was now their only hope, and the only means offering itself
for their escape, since the stern and quarter boats had been lost or
stove in the course of the late gale, and so making a virtue of
necessity, they all gathered upon the centre of the raft that had
been thus hastily constructed, and awaited their fate. Aphiz and
Selim bound their respective charges to the raft by cords about
their bodies, to prevent the possibility of their being washed from
its unprotected flooring.
Already the water washed over their very feet, and now and then the
schooner gave a fearful lurch, that caused all hands to stand fast
and believe her going down. Gradually the water crept higher and
higher, and the plunging schooner seemed at every fall of her bows
to be going down. Even the gentle Komel and Zillah could understand
the fearful momentary danger that must ensue when the hull should
plunge at last, and they silently held each other's hands.
"Hurrah! hurrah!" cried one of the crew, at the top of his voice.
"What now?" demanded Selim sternly of the man, at his seemingly
untimely mirth.
"She floats, she floats--the raft's afloat."
"Then in the name of Heaven, shove off as quickly as possible," said
Selim, as he and Aphiz seize each an oar and strove to force the
raft away from the deck. A way had already been cut through the
bulwarks.
At first the raft did not stir, but gradually it slid away, and
finally, to the joy of all, it was free and clear of the schooner's
side, and by the strong efforts of the crew, they increased the
space between them in a very few moments to the distance of several
rods. It was not one moment too soon, for a deep gurgling sound rang
on the ear for a moment, then the stern rose above the surface of
the sea as the bows plunged, and in a moment after she was gone
forever.
Even at a distance they had already gained, they felt the power of
the vortex, and were drawn towards its brink with fearful velocity,
as though they had been a mere feather floating upon the sea, but
gradually the raft became once more steady, and as the twilight
settled over the scene the whole party knelt in prayer for
protection upon that wide, unbroken waste of waters.
They had taken the precaution to secure some food, though in a
damaged state, and partaking sparingly of this as the moon lit up
the wild scene, and the sea went down after its turmoil and tempest,
they arranged themselves to sleep, Komel and Zillah close by each
other's side, and the poor idiot boy coiled himself silently at
their feet. He had been uncomplaining and watchful ever since the
calamity, but had kept closer than ever to Komel's side, who, even
in those moments of fearful trial, found time to bestow upon the boy
looks and words of kind assurance,--that was enough--he seemed happy.
All the day and another night were passed thus. The fearful gale had
cleared the sea of navigators, who had not yet ventured out from
their safe anchorage, and still the raft drove on, aided by a little
jury mast and the fore-topsail of the schooner, which had been
hastily unbent and placed on the raft. Hunger had attacked them, for
the provisions they had saved were now all gone, and this, added to
the exposure they suffered, caused many a blanched cheek, and Komel
and Zillah seemed ready to give way under the trial.
It was at the dawn of the third day that their eyes were gladdened
by the distant hills of Abrasia, and soon after they neared the
coast so as to make out its headlands, when a favoring wind, as if
on purpose to speed them on their way, came over the Georgian hills
from the south-east, and blew them towards the north.
Aphiz was now in a region that he knew well the navigation of, and
he declared that with the wind holding thus for a few hours, they
would be off the port of Anapa as safely as a steamboat might carry
them.
This was indeed the case, and before many hours the well known hills
and headlands of Circassia were visible to their longing eyes. Komel
could not suppress the joyous burst of feeling that a sight of her
native hills again infused into her bosom, but forgetting each pain
and trouble, she pointed out first to Zillah, then to Aphiz, and
even to the idiot boy, a beauty here, a well known spot there, and
the hill behind which stood the cottage of her dear parents. O, how
she trembled with impatient joy to reach its door once more.
Under the skilful guidance of Aphiz and Selim, the raft was steered
into the harbor, and was soon surrounded by a score of boats,
offering their ready assistance to relieve their distresses, and a
short time after saw them landed safely, all upon the long,
projecting mole.
All the while Selim seemed thoughtful and absent, and looked about
him with strange interest, at everything that met his gaze. He even
forgot to seek the side of Zillah, who, with Komel, was hurrying
away to a conveyance up the mountain side. Nor did he join them
until sent for by Aphiz.
Let another chapter explain the mystery of this singular
abstraction.