Chapter IX.

"Roll on, thou deep and dark blue ocean--roll!

Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain;

Man marks the earth with ruin--his control

Stops with the shore;--upon the watery plain

The wrecks are all thy deeds, nor doth remain

A shadow of man's ravage, save his own,

When for a moment, like a drop of rain,

He sinks into thy depths with bubbling groan,

Without a grave, unknell'd, uncoffin'd, and unknown."

Byron.

That evening the sun set in clouds, though the eastern horizon was

comparatively clear. There was, however, an unnatural outline to objects,

by which their dimensions were increased, and in some degree rendered

indefinite. We do not know the reason why the wind at east should produce

these phenomena, nor do we remember ever to have met with any attempt at a

solution; but of the fact, we are certain, by years of observation. In

what is called 'easterly weather,' objects are seen through the medium of

a refraction that is entirely unknown in a clear north-wester; the crests

of the seas emit a luminous light that is far more apparent than at other

times; and the face of the ocean, at midnight, often wears the aspect of a

clouded day. The nerves, too, answer to this power of the eastern winds.

We have a barometer within that can tell when the wind is east without

looking abroad, and one that never errs. It is true that allusions are

often made to these peculiarities, but where are we to look for the

explanation? On the coast of America the sea-breeze comes from the rising

sun, while on that of Europe it blows from the land; but no difference in

these signs of its influence could we ever discover on account of this

marked distinction.

Roswell Gardiner found the scene greatly changed when he came on deck

next morning. The storm, which had been brewing so long, had come at last,

and the wind was blowing a little gale from south-east. The quarter from

which the air came had compelled the officer of the watch to haul up on

the larboard tack, or with the schooner's head to the southward and

westward; a course that might do for a few days, provided it did not blow

too heavily. The other tack would not have cleared the shoals, which

stretched away to a considerable distance to the eastward. Hazard had got

in his flying-jib, and had taken the bonnets off his foresail and jib, to

prevent the craft burying. He had also single-reefed his mainsail and

foretopsail. The Sea Lion, of the Vineyard, imitated each movement, and

was brought down precisely to the same canvass as her consort, and on the

same tack. At that moment the two vessels were not a cable's length

asunder, the Oyster Ponders being slightly to leeward. Their schooner,

however, had a trifling advantage in sailing when it blew fresh and the

water was rough; which advantage was now making itself apparent, as the

two craft struggled ahead through the troubled element.

"I wish we were two hundred miles to the eastward," observed the young

master to his first officer, as soon as his eye had taken in the whole

view. "I am afraid we shall get jammed in on Cape Hatteras. That place is

always in the way with the wind at south-east and a vessel going to the

southward. We are likely to have a dirty time of it, Mr. Hazard."

"Ay, ay, sir, dirty enough," was the careless answer. "I've known them

that would go back and anchor in Fort Pond Bay, or even in Gardiner's,

until this south-easter had blown itself out."

"I couldn't think of that! We are a hundred miles south-east of Montauk,

and if I run the craft into any place, it shall be into Charleston, or

some of the islands along that coast. Besides, we can always ware off the

land, and place ourselves a day's run further to the southward, and we can

then give the shoals a wide berth on the other tack. If we were in the

bight of the coast between Long Island and Jersey, 't would be another

matter; but, out here, where we are, I should be ashamed to look the

deacon in the face if I didn't hold on."

"I only made the remark, Captain Gar'ner, by way of saying something. As

for getting to the southward, close in with our own coast, I don't know

that it will be of much use to a craft that wishes to stand so far to the

eastward, since the trades must be met well to windward, or they had

better not be met at all. For my part, I would as soon take my chance of

making a passage to the Cape de Verds or their neighbourhood, by lifting

my anchor from Gardiner's Bay, three days hence, as by meeting the next

shift of wind down south, off Charleston or Tybee."

"We should be only five hundred miles to windward, in the latter case, did

the wind come from the south-west, again, as at this season of the year it

is very likely to do. But, it is of no consequence; men bound where we

have got to go, ought not to run into port every time the wind comes out

foul. You know as well as I do, Mr. Hazard, that away down south, yonder,

a fellow thinks a gale of wind is a relief, provided it brings clear water

with it. I would rather run a week among islands, than a single day among

icebergs. One knows where to find land, for that never moves; but your

mountains that float about, are here to-day, and there to-morrow."

"Quite true, sir," returned Hazard, "and men that take their lays in

sealers, are not to expect anything but squalls. I'm ready to hold on as

long as our neighbour yonder; he seems to be trimming down to it, as if in

raal earnest to get ahead."

This was true enough. The Sea Lion of the Vineyard was doing her best, all

this time; and though unable to keep her station on her consort's weather

bow, where she had been most of the morning, she was dropped so very

slowly as to render the change nearly imperceptible. Now, it was, that the

officers and crews of these two craft watched their "behaviour," as it is

technically termed, with the closest vigilance and deepest interest. Those

in the Oyster Pond vessel regarded the movements of their consort, much as

a belle in a ball-room observes the effect produced by the sister belles

around her; or a rival physician notes the progress of an operation, that

is to add new laurels, or to cause old ones to wither. Now, the lurch was

commented on; then, the pitch was thought to be too heavy; and Green was

soon of opinion that their competitor was not as easy on her spars as

their own schooner. In short, every comparison that experience, jealousy

or skill could suggest, was freely made; and somewhat as a matter of

course, in favour of their own vessel. That which was done on board the

Sea Lion of Oyster Pond, was very freely emulated by those on board her

namesake of the Vineyard. They made _their_ comparisons, and formed

_their_ conclusions, with the same deference to self-esteem, and the same

submission to hope, as had been apparent among their competitors. It would

seem to be a law of nature that men should thus flatter themselves, and

perceive the mote in the eye of their neighbour, while the beam in their

own escapes.

Had there been an impartial judge present, he might have differed from

both sets of critics. Such a person would have seen that one of these

schooners excelled in this quality, while the other had an equal advantage

in another. In this way, by running through the list of properties that

are desirable in a ship, he would, most probably, have come to the

conclusion that there was not much to choose between the two vessels; but,

that each had been constructed with an intelligent regard to the

particular service in which she was about to be employed, and both were

handled by men who knew perfectly well how to take care of craft of that

description.

The wind gradually increased in strength, and sail was shortened in the

schooners, until each was finally brought down to a close-reefed foresail.

This would have been heaving the vessels to, had they not been kept a

little off, in order to force them through the water. To lie-to, in

perfection, some after-sail might have been required; but neither master

saw a necessity, as yet, of remaining stationary. It was thought better to

wade along some two knots, than to be pitching and lurching with nothing

but a drift, or leeward set. In this, both masters were probably right,

and found their vessels farther to windward in the end, than if they had

endeavoured to hold their own, by lying-to. The great difficulty they had

to contend with in keeping a little off, was the danger of seas coming on

board; but, as yet, the ocean was not sufficiently aroused to make this

very hazardous, and both schooners, having no real cargoes, were light and

buoyant, and floated dry. Had they encountered the sea there was, with

full freights in their holds, it might have been imprudent to expose them

even to this remote chance of having their decks swept. Water comes aboard

of small vessels, almost without an exception, in head winds and seas;

though the contrivances of modern naval architecture have provided

defences that make merchant vessels, now, infinitely more comfortable, in

this respect, than they were at the period of which we are writing.

At the end of three days, Roswell Gardiner supposed himself to be about

the latitude of Cape Henry, and some thirty or forty leagues from the

land. It was much easier to compute the last, than the first of these

material facts. Of course, he had no observations. The sun had not been

visible since the storm commenced, and nearly half the time, during the

last day, the two vessels were shut in from one another, by mists and a

small rain. It blew more in squalls than it had done, and the relative

positions of the schooners were more or less affected by the circumstance.

Sometimes, one would be to windward, and ahead; then, the other would

obtain a similar advantage. Once or twice they seemed about to separate,

the distance between them getting to be so considerable, as, apparently,

to render it impossible to keep in company; then the craft would change

places, by a slow process, passing quite near to each other again. No one

could tell, at the moment, precisely why these variations occurred; though

the reasons, generally, were well understood by all on board them.

Squalls, careless steering, currents, eddies, and all the accidents of the

ocean, contribute to create these vacillating movements, which will often

cause two vessels of equal speed, and under the same canvass, to seem to

be of very different qualities. In the nights, the changes were greatest,

often placing the schooners leagues asunder, and seemingly separating them

altogether. But, Roswell Gardiner became satisfied that Captain Daggett

stuck by him intentionally; for on all such occasions if _his_ schooner

happened to be out of the way, he managed to close again, ere the danger

of separating became too great to be overcome.

Our mariners judged of their distance from the land, by means of the lead.

If the American coast is wanting in the sublime and picturesque, and every

traveller must admit its defects in both, it has the essential advantage

of graduated soundings. So regular is the shoaling of the water, and so

studiously have the fathoms been laid down, that a cautious navigator can

always feel his way in to the coast, and never need place his vessel on

the beach, as is so often done, without at least knowing that he was about

to do so. Men become adventurous by often-repeated success; and the

struggles of competition, the go-ahead-ism of the national character, and

the trouble it gives to sound in deep water, all contribute to cast away

the reckless and dashing navigator, on this as well as on other coasts,

and this to his own great surprise; but, whenever such a thing _does_

happen, unless in cases of stress of weather, the reader may rest assured

it is because those who have had charge of the stranded vessel have

neglected to sound. The mile-stones on a highway do not more accurately

note the distances, than does the lead on nearly the whole of the American

coast. Thus Roswell Gardiner judged himself to be about thirty-two or

three marine leagues from the land, on the evening of the third day of

that gale of wind. He placed the schooner in the latitude of Cape Henry on

less certain data, though that was the latitude in which he supposed her

to be, by dead reckoning.

"I wish I knew where Daggett makes himself out," said the young master,

just as the day closed on a most stormy and dirty-looking night. "I don't

half like the appearance of the weather; but, I do not wish to ware off

the land, with that fellow ahead and nearer to the danger, if there be

any, than we are ourselves."

Here, Roswell Gardiner manifested a weakness that lies at the bottom of

half our blunders. He did not like to be outdone by a competitor, even in

his mistakes. If the Sea Lion of Holmes' Hole could hold on, on that tack,

why might not the Sea Lion of Oyster Pond do the same? It is by this

process of human vanity that men sustain each other in wrong, and folly

obtains the sanction of numbers, if not that of reason. In this practice

we see one of the causes of the masses becoming misled, and this seldom

happens without their becoming oppressive.

Roswell Gardiner, however, did not neglect the lead. The schooner had

merely to luff close to the wind, and they were in a proper state to

sound. This they did twice, during that night, and with a very sensible

diminution in the depth of the water. It was evident that the schooner was

getting pretty close in on the coast, the wind coming out nearly at south,

in squalls. Her commander held on, for he thought there were indications

of a change, and he still did not like to ware so long as his rival of the

Vineyard kept on the larboard tack. In this way, each encouraging the

other in recklessness, did these two craft run nearly into the lion's jaw,

as it might be; for, when the day re-appeared, the wind veered round to

the eastward, a little northerly, bringing the craft directly on a

lee-shore, blowing at the time so heavily as to render a foresail reefed

down to a mere rag, more canvass than the little vessels could well bear.

As the day returned, and the drizzle cleared off a little, land was seen

to leeward, stretching slightly to seaward, both ahead and astern! On

consulting his charts, and after getting a pretty good look at the coast

from aloft, Roswell Gardiner became satisfied that he was off Currituck,

which placed him near six degrees to the southward of his port of

departure, and about four to the westward. Our young man now deeply felt

that a foolish rivalry had led him into an error, and he regretted that he

had not wore the previous evening, when he might have had an offing that

would have enabled him to stand in either direction, clearing the land. As

things were, he was not by any means certain of the course he ought to

pursue.

Little did Gardiner imagine that the reason why Daggett had thus stood on,

was solely the wish to keep him company; for, that person, in consequence

of Gardiner's running so close in towards the coast, had taken up the

notion that the Sea Lion of Oyster Pond meant to pass through the West

Indies, visiting the key, which was thought to contain treasure, and of

which he had some accounts that had aroused all his thirst for gold,

without giving him the clue necessary to obtain it. Thus it was that a

mistaken watchfulness on one side, and a mistaken pride on the other, had

brought these two vessels into as dangerous a position as could have been

obtained for them by a direct attempt to place them in extreme jeopardy.

About ten, the gale was at its height, the wind still hanging at east, a

little northerly. In the course of the morning, the officers on board both

schooners, profiting by lulls and clear moments, had got so many views of

the land from aloft, as to be fully aware of their respective situations.

All thoughts of competition and watchfulness had now vanished. Each vessel

was managed with a reference solely to her safety; and, as might have been

foreseen when true seamen handled both, they had recourse to the same

expedients to save themselves. The mainsails of both crafts were set,

balance-reefed, and the hulls were pressed up against the wind and sea,

while they were driven ahead with increased momentum.

"That main-mast springs like a whale-bone whip-handle, sir," said Hazard,

when this new experiment had been tried some ten minutes or more. "She

jumps from one sea to another, like a frog in a hurry to hop into a

puddle!"

"She must stand it, or go ashore," answered Gardiner, coolly, though in

secret he was deeply concerned. "Did Deacon Pratt forgive me, should we

lose the schooner, I never could forgive myself!"

"Should we lose the schooner, Captain Gar'ner, few of us would escape

drowning, to feel remorse or joy. Look at that coast, sir--it is clear

now, and a body can see a good bit of it--never did I put eyes upon a less

promising land-fall, for strangers to make."

Roswell Gardiner did look, as desired, and he fully agreed with Hazard in

opinion. Ahead, and astern, the land trended to seaward, placing the

schooners in a curve of the coast, or what seamen term a bight, rendering

it quite impossible for the vessels to lay out past either of the

head-lands in sight. The whole coast was low, and endless lines of

breakers were visible along it, flashing up with luminous crests that left

no doubt of their character, or of the dangers that they so plainly

denoted. At times, columns of water shot up into the air like enormous

jets, and the spray was carried inland for miles. Then it was that gloom

gathered around the brows of the seamen, who fully comprehended the nature

of the danger that was so plainly indicated. The green hands were the

least concerned, "knowing nothing and fearing nothing," as the older

seamen are apt to express their sense of this indifference on the part of

the boys and landsmen.

According to the calculations of those on board the Sea Lion, of Oyster

Pond, they had about two miles of drift before they should be in the

breakers. They were on the best tack, to all appearances, and that was the

old one, or the same leg that had carried them into the bight. To ware

now, indeed, would be a very hazardous step, since every inch of room was

of importance. Gardiner's secret hope was that they might find the inlet

that led into Currituck, which was then open, though we believe it has

since been closed, in whole or in part, by the sands. This often happens

on the American coast, very tolerable passages existing this year for

vessels of an easy draught, that shall be absolutely shut up, and be

converted into visible beach, a few years later. The waters within will

then gain head, and break out, cutting themselves a channel, that remains

open until a succession of gales drives in the sands upon them from the

outside once more.

Gardiner well knew he was on the most dangerous part of the whole American

coast, in one sense, at least. The capacious sounds that spread themselves

within the long beaches of sand were almost as difficult of navigation as

any shoals to the northward; yet would he gladly have been in one in

preference to clawing off breakers on their outside. As between the two

schooners, the Vineyard-men had rather the best of it, being near a

cable's length to windward, and so much further removed from destruction.

The difference, however, was of no great account in the event of the gale

continuing, escape being utterly impossible for either in that case. So

critical was the situation of both craft becoming, indeed, that neither

could now afford to yield a single fathom of the ground she held.

All eyes were soon looking for the inlet, it having been determined to

keep the Sea Lion, of Oyster Pond, away for it, should it appear to

leeward, under circumstances that would allow of her reaching it. The

line of breakers was now very distinctly visible, and each minute did it

not only appear to be, but it was in fact nearer and nearer. Anchors were

cleared away, and ranges of cable over-hauled, anchoring being an

expedient that a seaman felt bound to resort to, previously to going

ashore, though it would be with very little hope of ground-tackles

holding.

The schooner had been described by Hazard as 'jumping' into the sea. This

expression is not a bad one, as applied to small vessels in short seas,

and it was particularly apt on this occasion. Although constructed with

great care forward as to buoyancy, this vessel made plunges into the waves

she met that nearly buried her; and, once or twice, the shocks were so

great, that those on board her could with difficulty persuade themselves

they had not struck the bottom. The lead, nevertheless, still gave water

sufficient, though it was shoaling fast, and with a most ominous

regularity. Such was the actual state of things when the schooner made one

of her mad plunges, and was met by a force that seemed to check her

forward movement as effectually as if she had hit a rock. The main-mast

was a good spar in some respects, but it wanted wood. An inch or two more

in diameter might have saved it; but the deacon had been induced to buy it

to save his money, though remonstrated with at the time. This spar now

snapped in two, a few feet from the deck, and falling to leeward, it

dragged after it the head of the foremast, leaving the Sea Lion, of Oyster

Pond, actually in a worse situation, just at that moment, than if she had

no spars at all.

Roswell Gardiner now appeared in a new character. Hitherto he had been

silent, but observant: issuing his orders in a way not to excite the men,

and with an air of unconcern that really had the effect to mislead most of

them on the subject of his estimate of the danger they were in.

Concealment, however, was no longer possible, and our young master came

out as active as circumstances required, foremost in every exertion, and

issuing his orders amid the gale trumpet-tongued. His manner, so full of

animation, resolution and exertion, probably prevented despair from

getting the ascendancy at that important moment. He was nobly sustained by

both his mates: and three or four of the older seamen now showed

themselves men to be relied on to the last.

The first step was to anchor. Fortunately, the foresight of Gardiner had

everything ready for this indispensable precaution. Without anchoring, ten

minutes would probably have carried the schooner directly down upon the

breakers, leaving no hope for the life of any on board her, and breaking

her up into chips. Both bowers were let go at once, and long ranges of

cable given. The schooner was snubbed without parting anything, and was

immediately brought head to sea. This relieved her at once, and there was

a moment that her people fancied she might ride out the gale where she

was, could they only get clear of the wreck. Axes, hatchets, and knives

were freely used, and Roswell Gardiner saw the mass of spars and rigging

float clear of him with a delight he did not desire to conceal. As it

drove to leeward, he actually cheered. A lead was instantly dropped

alongside, in order to ascertain whether the anchors held. This infallible

test, however, gave the melancholy certainty that the schooner was still

drifting her length in rather less than two minutes.

The only hope now was that the flukes of the anchors might catch in better

holding ground than they had yet met with. The bottom was hard sand,

however, which never gives a craft the chance that it gets from mud. By

Roswell Gardiner's calculations, an hour, at the most, would carry them

into the breakers; possibly less time. The Sea Lion, of Holmes' Hole, was

to windward a cable's length when this accident happened to her consort,

and about half a mile to the southward. Just at that instant the breakers

trended seaward, ahead of that schooner, rendering it indispensable for

her to ware. This was done bringing her head to the southward, and she now

came struggling directly on towards her consort. The operation of waring

had caused her to lose ground enough to bring her to leeward of the

anchored craft, and nearer to the danger.

Roswell Gardiner stood on his own quarter-deck, anxiously watching the

drift of the other schooner, as she drew near in her laboured way,

struggling ahead through billows that were almost as white as the breakers

that menaced them with destruction to leeward. The anchored vessel,

though drifting, had so slow a movement that it served to mark the steady

and rapid set of its consort towards its certain fate. At first, it seemed

to Gardiner that Daggett would pass just ahead of him, and he trembled for

his cables, which occasionally appeared above water, stretched like bars

of iron, for the distance of thirty or forty fathoms. But, the leeward set

of the vessel under way was too fast to give her any chance of bringing

this new danger on her consort. When a cable's length distant, the Sea

Lion, of the Vineyard, _did_ seem as if she might weather her consort;

but, ere that short space was passed over, it was found that she fell off

so fast, by means of her drift, as to carry her fairly clear of her stern.

The two masters, holding with one hand to some permanent object by which

to steady themselves, and each pressing his tarpaulin firmly down on his

head with the other, had a minute's conversation when the schooners were

nearest together.

"Do your anchors hold?" demanded Daggett, who was the first to speak, and

who put his question as if he thought his own fate depended on the answer.

"I'm sorry to say they do not. We drift our length in about two minutes."

"That will put off the evil moment an hour or two. Look what a wake _we_

are making!"

Sure enough, that wake was frightful! No sooner was the head of the Sea

Lion, of the Vineyard, fairly up with the stern of the Sea Lion, of Oyster

Pond, than Gardiner perceived that she went off diagonally, moving quite

as fast to leeward as she went ahead. This was so very obvious that a line

drawn from the quarter of Roswell's craft, in a quartering direction,

would almost have kept the other schooner in its range from the moment

that her bow hove heavily past.

"God bless you!--God bless you!" cried Roswell Gardiner, waving his hand

in adieu, firmly persuaded that he and the Vineyard master were never to

meet again in this world. "The survivors must let the fate of the lost be

known. At the pinch, I shall out boats, if I can."

The other made no answer. It would have been useless, indeed, to attempt

it; since no human voice had power to force itself up against such a

gale, the distance that had now to be overcome.

"That schooner will be in the breakers in half an hour," said Hazard, who

stood by the side of young Gardiner. "Why don't he anchor! No power short

of Divine Providence can save her."

"And Divine Providence will do it--thanks to Almighty God for his

goodness!" exclaimed Roswell Gardiner. "Did you perceive that, Mr. Hazard?"

The '_that_' of our young mariner was, in truth, a most momentous omen.

The wind had lulled so suddenly that the rags of sails which the other

schooner carried actually flapped. At first our seamen thought she had

been becalmed by the swell; but the change about themselves was too

obvious to admit of any mistake. It blew terribly, again, for a minute;

then there was another lull. Gardiner sprang to the lead-line to see the

effect on his own vessel. She no longer dragged her anchor!

"God is with us!" exclaimed the young master--"blessed for ever be his

holy name."

"And that of his only and _true_ Son," responded a voice from one at his

elbow.

Notwithstanding the emergency, and the excitement produced by this sudden

change, Roswell Gardiner turned to see from whom this admonition had come.

The oldest seaman on board, who was Stimson, a Kennebunk man, and who had

been placed there to watch the schooner's drift, had uttered these unusual

words. The fervour with which he spoke produced more impression on the

young master than the words themselves; the former being very unusual

among sea-faring men, though the language was not so much so.

Subsequently, Gardiner remembered that little incident, which was not

without its results.

"I do believe, sir," cried Hazard, "that the gale is broken. It often

happens, on our own coast, that the south-easters chop round suddenly, and

come out nor'-westers. I hope this will not be too late to save the

Vineyard chap, though he slips down upon them breakers at a most fearful

rate."

"There goes his foresail, again--and here is another lull!" rejoined

Gardiner. "I tell you, Mr. Hazard, we shall have a shift of wind--nothing

short of which could save either of us from these breakers."

"Which comes from the marcy of God Almighty, through the intercession of

his only Son!" added Stimson, with the same fervour of manner, though he

spoke in a very low tone of voice.

Roswell Gardiner was again surprised, and for another moment he forgot the

gale and its dangers. Gale it was no longer, however, for the lull was now

decided, and the two cables of the schooner were distended only when the

roll of the seas came in upon her. This wash of the waves still menaced

the other schooner, driving her down towards the breakers, though less

rapidly than before.

"Why don't the fellow anchor!" exclaimed Gardiner, in his anxiety, all

care for himself being now over. "Unless he anchor, he will yet go into

the white water, and be lost!"

"So little does he think of that, that he is turning out his reefs,"

answered Hazard. "See! there is a hand aloft loosening his topsail--and

there goes up a whole mainsail, already!"

Sure enough, Daggett appeared more disposed to trust to his canvass, than

to his ground-tackle. In a very brief space of time he had his craft under

whole sail, and was struggling, in the puffs, to claw off the land.

Presently, the wind ceased altogether, the canvass flapping so as to be

audible to Gardiner and his companions, at the distance of half a mile.

Then, the cloth was distended in the opposite direction, and the wind came

off the land. The schooner's head was instantly brought to meet the seas,

and the lead dropped at her side showed that she was moving in the right

direction. These sudden changes, sometimes destructive, and sometimes

providential as acts of mercy, always bring strong counter-currents of air

in their train.

"Now we shall have it!" said Hazard--"a true nor'wester, and butt-end

foremost!"

This opinion very accurately described that which followed. In ten minutes

it was blowing heavily, in a direction nearly opposite to that which had

been the previous current of the wind. As a matter of course, the Sea Lion

of the Vineyard drew off the land, wallowing through the meeting billows

that still came rolling in from the broad Atlantic; while the Sea Lion of

Oyster Pond tended to the new currents of air, and rode, as it might be,

suspended between the two opposing forces, with little or no strain on her

cables. Gardiner expected to see his consort stand out to sea, and gain an

offing; but, instead of this, Captain Daggett brought his schooner quite

near to the disabled vessel, and anchored. This act of neighbourly

kindness was too unequivocal to require explanation. It was the intention

of the Vineyard men to lie by their consort until she was relieved from

all apprehensions of danger. The 'butt-end' of the 'nor'-wester' was too

large to admit of intercourse until next morning, when that which had been

a small gale had dwindled to a good steady breeze, and the seas had gone

down, leaving comparatively smooth water all along the coast. The line of

white water which marked the breakers was there, and quite visible; but it

no longer excited apprehension. The jury-masts on board the disabled craft

were got up, and what was very convenient, just at that moment, the wreck

came floating out on the ebb, so near to her as to enable the boats to

secure all the sails and most of the rigging. The main-boom, too, an

excellent spar, was towed alongside and saved.

The Sea Lions; Or, The Lost Sealers · 第 9 / 30 章