_WEATHERING THE STORM_
The "Golden Land" started on her voyage to Fremantle with Jack Redland
and Harry Marton installed on board in the most comfortable cabin in the
ship.
"I'd have given you mine with pleasure," said Job, "but although it's
pleasant and airy, it's difficult to manage. You want to know it
thoroughly or you come to grief. In a rough sea you stand a good chance
of being washed out if the door is left open, and you might forget to
shut it."
Jack Redland said they were quite satisfied with their present quarters,
and had no desire to turn the skipper or anyone else out.
He had bid a hurried farewell to Sir Lester and Winnie, and the parting
was keener than he anticipated.
Left alone with the girl he was sorely tempted to ask her to be his
wife, but he knew it would not be fair to bind her in any way. He saw by
her face that she was deeply moved, and his heart beat high with hope.
She might wait for him. She might be true to the unspoken love they both
felt. If he made a fortune in a few years all might be well, but he knew
he must hurry and leave no stone unturned if he meant to win her.
"Take this, Jack," she said, handing him a small miniature of herself,
which her father had had painted not long before. "It will remind you of
me in the distant land, and I hope, make you feel you have a friend
whose thoughts are with you at all times."
"It is the greatest treasure I have," he said, and then, unable to
control himself longer, he took her in his arms and kissed her. In
another moment he was gone, hurrying from the house, almost afraid of
what he had done; but as he turned round to wave farewell, he saw her
standing there, both arms outstretched, as though she would call him
back at the last moment. He knew he would never forget that picture or
the kiss he had given her. Winnie was sorrowful, and yet happy. Jack had
betrayed himself, and she knew he loved her.
"Poor Jack," she murmured, "I will wait for him until he returns, no
matter how many years it may be."
She told her father, and he smiled. Jack was out of the way, and she
might forget. He could afford to be generous; at the same time he
sympathised with them, and had financial matters been other than they
were, nothing would have pleased him better than to have the young man
for his son-in-law.
"I gave him my miniature, I hope you do not mind," she said. "I wished
him to have some remembrance of me."
"You did quite right; nothing could have pleased him more, and you can
have another painted," he replied.
So the "Golden Land" steamed on her way, parting the lovers as the ocean
has parted thousands for ages past.
Although an old boat, she acted fairly well, and was not quite so
coffin-like as her skipper described her.
They coaled at Port Said, where Jack and his friend went ashore, to find
the usual cosmopolitan crowd, as dirty and unclean as ever. They were
not sorry to be on board again, and when they left the Red Sea behind
and steamed out into the wide ocean, the refreshing breezes invigorated
and put new life into them. The sea air seemed to tell of hope and
fortune, and Harry Marton especially was not at all sorry he had left
London far behind.
"We'll have a night ashore at Colombo, young men," said the skipper the
day before they arrived at Ceylon. "There's plenty to see, and it will
be a change for you; and it's our last port of call."
They were nothing loath, and when the ship entered the harbour she was
quickly surrounded with all manner of small boats, of various shapes and
sizes, manned by noisy shouting natives, clamouring for custom.
Job Seagrave was not long in putting things in order, and leaving the
chief officer in charge, they were pulled ashore by a couple of
villainous looking dark-skinned natives.
"A nice couple of niggers to row respectable white men," said Job.
One of the men grinned. He evidently had some idea of the nature of the
remark.
"You look uglier than ever now," said Job. "Take my advice, and keep
your smile for dark nights; it's far too powerful for daylight."
They walked through the bazaars and the skipper showed them most of the
sights that were interesting. Everything was new to them: the bright
coloured garments, the waving tropical trees, with their huge leaves,
the almost naked natives and rickshaw runners. It was difficult to tell
the women from the men. Outside the town swarms of dark-eyed naked
children surrounded them, clamouring for coins, no matter how small, and
showering blessings upon their path, in quaint broken English, as they
walked along.
They strolled about for the greater part of the night, and in the early
morning returned to the ship.
"They turn night into day here," said Jack, "and no wonder, for it must
be unpleasantly hot in the burning sun."
"You are right, it is," replied Job, "but you'll find it a lot hotter
where you are going to, and if you tackle Barry Tuxford's pearling
business you'll be as near to a certain place as it is possible to get
in this world."
"A nice look-out, anyway," replied Jack, "but we shall not back down."
After leaving Colombo a couple of days there were signs of a storm, and
Captain Seagrave knew what that meant in this latitude. Once he had
given up all hope of saving the "Golden Land," but she pulled through,
although it was a narrow squeak. He had no desire for another such
experience. Anxiously he scanned the sky, and saw great black masses
rolling and chasing each other like angry billows. There was a peculiar
moaning sound in the air like spirits in torment; he had heard it
before, and dreaded it. The heat was oppressive, and Jack thought the
ship was as hot as an oven. He, too, watched the sky, but was not aware
of the danger. He saw the skipper on the bridge and went towards it.
"There's something brewing up there," said Job shouting down to him.
"Rough weather, eh?"
"Yes, we're in for it."
"We have had no occasion to grumble so far," replied Jack, "and we can
hardly expect to get through without some kind of a rough and tumble."
Blacker and blacker grew the clouds, and the roaring sound increased in
volume.
"Better get below," roared Job, "or hold hard on to something."
Jack caught hold of the rail near him, and steadied himself. He had no
intention of going below and was curiously anxious to see a storm at
sea. As he looked up at Captain Seagrave, and saw his face, he felt
there was a man who could be trusted, who would never lose his courage,
and he commenced to understand why the "old tub" had weathered so many
storms. The skipper might be a rough man, unpolished, but his heart was
in the right place, his nerves true as steel, and the desire to do his
duty strong within him. Such men as these, Jack thought, have made
England the nation she is, and raised her merchant vessels and ocean
steamers to the highest pitch. Ashore Captain Seagrave might cause
smiles to cross the faces of men who were as mere pigmies compared to
him now.
Suddenly the coming storm struck the ship. She staggered, quivered,
groaned, swerved, then righted herself and plunged forward into the
boiling, seething mass of water again.
Jack held on tight, for the wind howled and shrieked around him, and
every timber seemed to creak and groan. Far ahead he saw Sam Slack
gesticulating furiously at some of the crew; he wondered how he kept his
legs with such a heaving, shivering mass beneath him. Sam, in his way,
was quite as good a man as the skipper, although he was not born to
control and lead like Job Seagrave. He obeyed any orders given him, no
matter the danger involved in carrying them out, but he would have been
afraid to give them on his own responsibility.
Jack watched him curiously, and then looked up at the bridge. Captain
Seagrave was shouting through a trumpet to Slack, who heard him amidst
all the din, and came towards him. Then there was a roar of words which
were unintelligible to him, but which the chief officer understood, and
hurried "forrard" again. It seemed easy for him to walk the deck; Jack
tried the experiment, but as he let go his hold the ship lurched; he
fell heavily, and a huge wave washed him into the centre of the vessel.
He was unhurt, and laughed at his experience, but had no desire to try
it again. All through the night the wind howled, and the seas swirled
round the "Golden Land," in huge angry masses. When Jack staggered on
deck again next morning he saw Captain Seagrave at his post on the
bridge, braving the still furious elements, fighting them until they
were beaten.
"He's been there all night," said Sam Slack, as he shouted into Jack's
ear; "you never catch our old man leaving the bridge in a gale like
this. I'll be glad when we're out of it. So long as he sticks at it we
stick at it for shame's sake. Mac's been down in the engine-room all
night, and he's there yet. If strong language can keep his boilers going
it'll be done. Mac's powerful in a storm, it kind of works him up, and
he knows the engines are none too good, and want watching like babies.
Where's your mate?"
"Down below. He's very bad; wishes he was ashore, I think," said Jack
laughing.
Towards the afternoon the storm slackened, and Job Seagrave left the
bridge. Jack followed him into his cabin.
"You have had a rough night's work," he said. "I can quite understand
now why the 'Golden Land' has made so many safe passages."
Job smiled as he pulled off his oilskins.
"It was pretty rough, I acknowledge; but we have been in many worse
things in our time. As for me being on the bridge, I would not leave the
old tub in any other hands; they'd smash her for a certainty--don't know
her as well as I do. We understand each other, and when I give my
orders, she obeys. Sam's all right, a real good sort, but she'd not do
for him what she will for me."
Mac came in, grimy, and mopping his face with a greasy rag.
"I told 'em to let me know when you'd come off the bridge," he said.
"You'll be the death of me some day. It's hell down below, and every
minute I'm afraid there'll be a burst up."
"Not with you in charge, Mac. I have been telling Mr. Redland the ship
understands me better than any man on board, and it's the same with you
and the engines."
"Yours is a cooler job than mine," growled Mac.
"I know you are always nice and warm," replied Job, "but think what an
advantage it is in cold weather."
"We never run into cold weather," replied Mac with a grunt. "Why don't
you take a trip to the Arctic regions to give us a chance of getting
even with you?"
"I'll think it over," replied Job. "Meanwhile try this, it will do you
good," and he poured out a stiff nip of whisky.
Mac drained it at a gulp, and his eyes glistened.
"One more will just about recompense me for a beastly night in the black
hole," he said.
Job laughed and gave him another.
"Is this some of Sharp's stuff?" he asked.
"Yes, do you like it?"
"It's all right. Sharp is a much better man than I took him for; there's
a probability of a rise all round when we get back."
During the remainder of the voyage the weather was glorious, and as they
neared the coast of Australia, Jack and his friend were keeping a keen
look-out for the promised land. The first sight of it was not
prepossessing, it looked a barren uninviting coast line, but Job
Seagrave told them, although it seemed inhospitable, there were plenty
of grand places inland.
The "Golden Land" entered the harbour at Fremantle, and Jack and Harry
felt a keen regret that the voyage was at an end. Throughout the trip
everyone on board had done their best to make things pleasant, and to
part with Captain Seagrave, Sam Slack and Rufus Macdonald, was like
taking leave of old friends.
"You have no occasion to hurry," said Job. "Make the ship your home for
a day or two longer if you like; you are quite welcome. But I expect it
won't be long before we have Barry Tuxford on board. He's a quick man,
is Barry, and when he hears we are in port he'll be down as soon as he
can, no matter where he may be."
This was true enough, for the morning after they arrived at Fremantle he
came on board. He recognised Harry Marton at once, and cast a sharp
glance at Jack when he was introduced.
"They'll do, I fancy," he said to Job Seagrave, who stood by watching
him with some amusement. He knew Barry's way of reckoning up people, and
making up his mind on the spot.
"Yes, they'll do; mind they are not too good for you. They are clever,
very clever, and far better than most of the men you get out here."
"I have had some good ones through my hands in my time," was the reply.
"Come and dine with us to-night," said Job. "We'll have a merry party on
board, and it will serve to make you better acquainted. I have something
important to tell you about one of these young men that will interest
you very much indeed. You are fond of racing, and you'll be surprised
when you hear my yarn."
"I like a bit of sport," replied Barry, "and I have a few good horses,
but I don't let it interfere with my regular work, not if I know it."
"And what may be your regular work this trip?" asked Job.