We stood on to the southward and westward during the remainder of that
day, the wind continuing still to freshen, and the sea getting up with
most fearful rapidity. The glass fell slowly too, and there appeared to
be every prospect of our getting a taste of the quality of the weather
for which Cape Horn is so notorious.
As the sun set, the veil of cloud-wrack which had obscured the heavens
all day was rent asunder in the western quarter, and we caught a glimpse
of the great luminary hanging upon the verge of the horizon like a ball
of molten copper.
His level beams shot for a few moments across the broad expanse of the
heaving and wildly-leaping waters, tinging the wave-crests immediately
in his wake with deep blood-red, whilst all around elsewhere the angry
ocean was darkest indigo. A few rays shot upward, gleaming wildly among
the flying scud, and then the orb of day sank into the ocean, shooting
abroad as he did so a sudden baleful crimson glare, which gradually died
out in the gloom of increasing storm and coming night.
Bob stood by my side watching the wild scene I have so feebly described,
and as the sun disappeared, he turned to me and remarked:
"My eyes, Harry! what d'ye think of that, lad? To my mind it needs no
prophet to tell us with that afore our eyes that we're booked for a
reg'lar thorough-bred Cape Horn gale of wind; and my advice as chief-
mate of this here barkie is, that we makes her just as snug as we knows
how, for, depend upon it, afore morning we shall have as thorough a
trial of her seagoin' qualities as we're likely to want for many a day
to come."
"My own idea, Bob," replied I; "I have seldom seen a wilder sunset, and
if it does not mean wind, and plenty of it too, all my weather-lore must
go for nothing, and I shall have to turn to and learn everything over
afresh."
"Ay, ay! you may say that," returned he, "and I the same; but we've both
knocked about too many years at sea to make any mistake in our reading
when Natur' opens so plain a page of her book for us as yon; so the
sooner we turns to the better, say I, or we shall have the darkness upon
us afore we're ready for it. Thank God, we've plenty of sea-room; so
let's rouse up that floating-anchor contrivance of yourn, my lad, for,
depend upon it, if ever the _Lily_ is likely to need the consarn, she
will to-night."
This floating-anchor I will describe for the benefit of those who may
not have seen such a thing, for it is a most useful affair, and no small
craft should undertake a long cruise without one. Ours was formed of
two flat bars of iron, each ten feet in length, riveted together in the
centre in such a way that they would either fold flat one upon the other
(for convenience of stowage), or open out at right angles, forming a
cross of four equal arms.
In each end of each bar was a hole capable of taking a good stout rope
swifter, which was set up taut when the bars were opened, so as to keep
them spread at right angles. Four other holes were punched, two in each
bar, about midway between each end and the centre rivet; these were for
the reception of a crowfoot.
As soon as the bars were spread open, and the swifter passed and set up,
a square sheet of the stoutest canvas, painted, was spread over them,
the edges laced to the swifter with a stout lacing, and the crowfoot
toggled through the intermediate holes in the bars and corresponding
holes in the canvas.
A buoy was then attached to the end of one arm to float the anchor, with
a sufficient amount of buoy-rope to allow it to sink to the requisite
depth; the end of the cable was shackled into the thimble of the
crowfoot, the buoy streamed overboard, and the anchor let go.
I may as well state here, that for the economisation of space the buoy
for floating out anchor was an india-rubber ball, made of the same
materials as an ordinary air-cushion, and distended in the same way.
This was enclosed in a strong net of three-strand sinnet, which net was
attached to the buoy-rope.
We hove the craft to whilst we were preparing the anchor, and glad
enough was I when it was ready; for by this time the sea was running so
high and breaking so heavily, that I was afraid once or twice, when we
were caught broadside-to, that we should be capsized.
We let go the anchor with only two fathoms of buoy-rope, so as to sink
it just deep enough to keep us head to sea without materially
interfering with the craft's drift, as we thought we should ride all the
easier for such an arrangement, and so it proved.
As soon as the anchor was let go, we got our head-sail in, ran in the
bowsprit, and got our topmast on deck; the trysail was close-reefed, and
the sheet trimmed amidships, the anchor-light hoisted well up on the
fore-stay, and our preparations for the night were complete.
By this time it was blowing tremendously heavy, and the howling of the
gale overhead, the shriek of the wind through our scanty rigging, and
the hiss of the foaming water around us, mingled into such a deafening
sound that Bob and I had fairly to _shout_, even when close alongside of
each other, to make ourselves heard. And then it began to thunder and
lighten heavily, still further increasing the wild and impressive
grandeur of the scene upon which we gazed in awe-struck admiration.
At one moment all would be deep black pitchy night, lighted up only by
the pale unearthly shimmer of some foaming wave-crest as it rolled
menacingly down upon us, gleaming with phosphorescent light; anon the
canopy above would be rent asunder by the vivid lightning-flash, and for
an instant the vast whirling forms of the torn and shredded clouds would
be revealed, with a momentary vision of the writhing, leaping, and
storm-driven waters beneath them, illumined by the ghastly glare of the
levin-brand, and stricken into sudden rigidity by the rapidity of the
flash.
We stayed on deck for about an hour after our anchor was let go,
watching this grand manifestation of the power of the Deity, sublime as
terrible, terrible as sublime; and then, finding that no improvement
suggested itself in our arrangements, and that the _Lily_ rode like a
cork over the mountain-billows--though occasionally the comb of a more
than usually heavy sea would curl in over the bows and send a foaming
cataract of water aft and out over her taffrail--we descended to the
cabin to get our suppers, for which, by this time, we were quite ready.
So easy was the motion of the little craft, that when we got below we
found no difficulty whatever in boiling the water, and making ourselves
a cup of good strong tea. While discussing this refreshing beverage and
a few biscuits, we arrived at the conclusion that as we had done all it
was possible to do for the safety of the boat, it was useless to keep a
watch through the night, and that we would, therefore, take advantage of
the opportunity to get a good undisturbed night's rest, leaving the
"sweet little cherub that sits up aloft" to look out.
Accordingly, as soon as our meal was over, I left Bob to straighten up
below, while I went on deck to take a last look round and see that
everything was snug and as it should be, and our light burning brightly.
I found everything satisfactory, except that it seemed to be blowing
harder than ever; however, I could not help that, so I went below again,
closing the companion after me, and we both turned in, chatted awhile,
listened to the roaring of the gale and the occasional heavy wash of
water along the deck, and finally dropped off to sleep.
I awoke two or three times during the night, and once I turned out and
pushed the slide of the companion far enough back to put my head
outside; but the night was still as black as pitch, it was blowing
harder if anything than before, and the air was full of spindrift and
scud-water; so I pushed over the slide again, and tumbled once more into
my comfortable hammock, very vividly impressed both with a sense of our
helplessness in the midst of such a heavy gale, and also with the
comparative degrees of comfort between the decks and the cabin.
Bob was the first to make a muster in the morning; and his first act,
like mine during the night, was to take a look out upon deck.
"Blowing hard enough to blow the devil's horns off," I heard him
exclaim, "and as thick as a hedge. And, my precious eyes! what a sea!
come up and take a look at it, Harry, boy; I never see'd nothing like it
all the years I've been afloat. Hurrah, young un! _that's_ your sort,"
as the cutter rose fearfully near to the perpendicular in surmounting
the crest of a sea, and then slid down, down, down into the trough,
until it seemed as though she would sink to the very ocean's bed. "And
_don't_ the little hussy behave beautifully! She's as floaty as a gull,
Hal; and drier than e'er a seventy-four that ever was launched would be
in a sea like this. Now, what lubber comes here with his eyes sealed up
instead of looking before him? Jump up, Harry; quick, boy! we are in a
mess here, and no mistake. No, no; it's all right, he'll clear us a'ter
all. No thanks to him though, for there's not a soul--ah! so you're
beginning to wake up at last, eh!"
Here I put my head up through the companion, alongside of Bob's lovely
phiz, and saw within forty fathoms of us, over the ridge of a sea, and
broad on our port beam, the topmast-heads of a brig. As we both rose
together on the same sea, her sails first, and then her hull, came into
view.
She was not a large vessel; about two hundred tons or thereabouts,
apparently; painted all black down to her copper, excepting a narrow red
ribbon which marked the line of her sheer.
She was hove-to on the port tack under a storm-staysail, and her
topgallant-masts were down on deck. Everything was very trim and man-
o'-warlike on board her; but no government dockyard ever turned out such
a beautiful model as she was.
When I first caught sight of her, she was heading directly for us; but
as we watched her, her head paid off, and she swept slowly down across
our stern, near enough for us to have hove a biscuit on board her.
Some ten or a dozen heads peered curiously at us over her weather
bulwarks as she drove slowly past us, and one man aft on the quarter-
deck, the officer of the watch apparently, seized a trumpet to hail us;
but whether he did so or not, or, if he did, what he said, we neither of
us knew; for at that moment we both sank once more into the trough with
a perfect mountain of water between us, until we lost sight of him
altogether for a moment, even to his mast-heads.
I took the glass, which we always kept slung in beckets in the
companion-way, open and adjusted ready for immediate use, and as she
rose once more into view I applied it to my eye, and the first thing
which caught my attention was her name, painted on her stern, which was
now towards us.
"The _Albatross_, by all that's unlucky!" exclaimed I.
"Blest if we mightn't have guessed as much if we'd been in a guessin'
humour," ejaculated Bob. "Honest-going merchant ships ain't so plaguy
careful of their spars as that chap--leastways, not such small fry as he
is. Pity but what they was, I often says; but where d'ye find a skipper
who'll be bothered to send down his top hamper every time it pipes up a
bit of a breeze? No; `Let it stand if 'twill,' is the word, `and if
'twon't, let it blow away.' But the chap is a real good seaman, Harry,
no man'll deny that; look how snug he's got everything; and all hauled
taut and coiled down neat and reg'lar man-o'-war fashion I'll be bound."
We got, I think, a clearer idea of the tremendous strength of the gale
by watching the brig than we did even by the motions of our own little
craft. She was tossed about like the merest cockle-shell, and every
time that she rose upon the crest of a sea, the wind took her rag of a
staysail, distending it as though it would tear it clean out of the
bolt-ropes, and heeling the vessel over until we could see the whole of
her bottom nearly down to her keel; and then her sharp bows would cleave
the wave-crest in a perfect cataract of foam and spray, and away she
would settle down once more with a heavy weather-roll into the trough.
"Well," exclaimed Bob, as we lost sight of her in the driving scud,
"she's a pretty sea-boat, is yon brig; but I'm blest if the little
_Lily_ don't beat her even at that game. What say you, Harry; ain't she
proving true the very words I spoke that night when we first began to
talk about this here v'yage?"
"Indeed she is, Bob," I answered; "I am as surprised as I am delighted
at her behaviour; I could never have believed, without seeing it myself,
that so small a craft would even live in such weather, much less be as
comfortable as she is. But I don't like _that_" continued I, as the
comb of a tremendous sea came curling in over our bows, fairly
smothering the little craft in foam for a moment, though she came up
immediately afterwards, "shaking her feathers" like a duck. "I'm afraid
one of these gentlemen will be starting our skylight or companion for
us; and that would be a very serious matter."
"Never fear," returned Bob confidently. "Our bit of a windlass and the
mast breaks the force of it before it reaches the skylight. And that
idee of yours in having it rounded at the fore end is a capital one; it
turns the water off each side almost like the stem of a ship, besides
bein' stronger than a square-shaped consarn. At the same time, all this
water coming in on deck don't do no _good_ if it don't do no _harm_; but
how's it to be pervented?"
"I have an idea," said I, "and it's worth a trial. It can do no harm,
and if it fails we are no worse off than we were before."
So saying, I dived below and got out a bottle of oil, through the cork
of which I bored three or four holes with a corkscrew, but left the cork
in. To the neck of the bottle I made fast the end of about a fathom of
marline, and then, going forward, I made fast the other end of the
marline to one of the links of the chain-cable by which we were riding
to our floating-anchor.
I then sung out to Bob to give her a few fathoms more chain, and as he
did so I hove the bottle overboard.
In about five minutes the success of my experiment became manifest. The
oil leaked slowly out through the holes I had bored in the cork, and,
diffusing itself on the surface of the water, caused the seas to sweep
by us either without breaking at all, or, if they _did_ break, it was
with such diminished force that no more water came on board.
I had heard of "oil on troubled waters" before, but at the time that I
did so I never expected to put its virtues to so thoroughly practical a
test.
We went below and got breakfast under weigh; and whilst discussing the
meal, our conversation naturally turned upon the appearance of the
_Albatross_.
"There can be no question, I fear, as to its being that scoundrel
Johnson and his gang of desperadoes," said I, half hoping to hear Bob
dispute the probability.
But he was quite of my opinion.
"No, no," said he, "that's the scamp, never a doubt of it. _I_ noticed
the name on his starn; but there warn't no name of a port where he hails
from, for the simple reason that he hails from nowhere in particular.
Besides, a man with half an eye could tell by looking at that craft that
she's strong-handed. Depend on't, Harry, there's too many hammocks in
her fo'c'stle for an honest trader. And, worst luck, she's bound the
same road as ourselves--at least, she's going round the Horn; but a'ter
she gets round it's not so easy to say what course she may steer. We
must hope she's on the look-out for some stray Spaniard or other coming
down the coast; for if we falls in with her ag'in, she'll have some'at
to say to us, mark my words."
"You surely do not suppose the man will condescend to give such a pigmy
as ourselves a thought, do you?"
"That's just what he's doing at this identical moment, it's my opinion,"
returned Bob. "He is not fool enough to suppose we're down here
somewheres off the Horn, in this cockle-shell, on a pleasure trip; and
that we're not come down here to trade he also knows pretty well, or we
should have a craft big enough to stow away something like a paying
cargo; and if we're here for neither one nor t'other of them objects,
he'll want to know what we _are_ here for; and, depend upon it, he won't
be happy till he's found out. So take my advice, Harry, and, if we fall
in with him again, let's give him a wide berth."
"Decidedly; I shall do so if possible," returned I. "But that may prove
no such easy matter with so smart a vessel as he has under his feet."
"Not in heavy weather, certainly," said Bob; "but give us weather in
which we can carry a topsail, even if it's no more nor a jib-header, and
I'll say, `Catch who catch can!' Why, we can lay a good two pints
closer to the wind than he can, and still keep a good clean full; and
the square-rigged craft that can beat us in going to wind'ard must be an
out-and-out flyer, and no mistake. We must keep a bright look-out, and
not be caught napping, that's all; and give _everything_ a good wide
berth till we're pretty certain of what it is."
"Well," said I, "I trust we shall not fall in with him again. The
Pacific is a pretty big place, and it's not so easy to find a craft in
it when you don't know where to look for her. If we _do_ meet with him
again, we must do all we can to avoid him, and hope for the best."
"Ay, ay," returned Bob, "`hope for the best and prepare for the worst'
is a good maxim for any man. It takes him clear of many a difficulty,
and enables him to lay his course on the v'yage of life clean full, and
with slack bowlines. As for this here Johnson, I'd ask nothing better
than to have him just out of gun-shot under our lee, with a nice breeze,
and not too much sea for the little _Lily_, and then let him catch us if
he's man enough for the job."
I certainly could not echo this wish of Bob's; but it was satisfactory
to find that he had such great confidence in the boat and in her ability
to escape from the _Albatross_, so I allowed him to remain in
undisturbed enjoyment of his own opinion, especially as it seemed to
afford him considerable entertainment, and went on deck to take another
look at the weather.
There was no sign of the gale breaking; in fact, it seemed to be
scarcely at its height, for away to windward it looked as dirty and as
full of wind as ever; and the sea was something awful to contemplate.
It looked, of course, worse to us than it would to those on the deck of
a large ship; but even allowing for that, it was unquestionably running
far higher than anything I had ever seen before.
I have read somewhere that scientific men assert that even in the
heaviest gales and in mid-ocean the sea never attains a greater height
than twenty feet from trough to crest; but with all due respect to them
and their science-founded opinions, I take leave to assert that they are
in this instance mistaken.
An intelligent sailor (and I modestly claim to be at least this much) is
as capable of judging the height of a sea as the most scientific of
mortals; and I am confident of this, that _many_ of the seas I watched
that morning ran as high as our cross-trees, which were a trifle over
thirty feet above the surface of the water.
Indeed, to satisfy myself _thoroughly_ upon this point I climbed so high
(with the utmost difficulty, and at very great risk of being blown
overboard), and whilst looking over the cross-trees, I saw the crest of
more than one sea rearing itself between my eye and the horizon.
So far the _Water Lily_ had weathered the gale scatheless; there was not
so much as a ropeyarn out of its place or carried away; and as there
seemed to be no greater danger than there had been through the night,
and as I had taken a good look round when aloft without seeing anything,
we both went below to enjoy the comfort of the cabin, for on deck
everything was cold, wet, and dismal in the extreme.
I was anxious to get a sight of the sun at noon, if possible, so as to
ascertain our exact latitude. I knew we were not very far to the
southward of Staten; and I did not know but there might be a current
setting us toward it, in which case we might find ourselves very
awkwardly situated.
It looked half inclined to break away two or three times during the
morning; but as mid-day approached it became as bad as ever, and I had
the vexation of seeing noon pass by without so much as a momentary
glimpse of the sun.
Towards evening, therefore, I took advantage of an exceptionally clear
moment, and again scrambled aloft and took a thorough good look all
round, and especially to the northward. There was nothing in sight, and
with this I was obliged to rest satisfied.
We noticed just about this time that the seas were beginning to break on
board again, so I concluded that our bottle of oil was exhausted, and
accordingly got out another, and having bored holes in the cork, as I
had done with the first, it was bent on to the cable, more cable paid
out, and we again rode all the easier. Our anchor-light was trimmed and
lighted and hoisted up, and we went below to our tea, or _supper_, as
sailors generally term it.
We had found the day dreadfully tedious, cooped up as we were in our low
cabin, and a meal was a most welcome break in the monotony.
We sat long over this one, therefore, prolonging it to its utmost
extent; and when it was over, we both turned to and cleared up the
wreck.
By the time that all was done it was intensely dark; but, before
settling down below for the night, we both put our heads up through the
companion to take a last look round.
Bob was rather beforehand with me, and he had no sooner put his head
outside than he pulled it in again, exclaiming, in an awe-struck tone:
"Look here, Harry; what d'ye think of this?"
I looked in the direction he indicated, and there, upon our lower-mast-
head, and also upon the trysail gaff-end, was a globe of pale, sickly
green light, which wavered to and fro, lengthening out and flattening in
again as the cutter tossed wildly over the mountainous seas.
It had not the appearance of flame, but rather of highly luminous mist,
brilliant at the core, and softening off and becoming more dim as the
circumference of the globe was reached; and it emitted a feeble and
unearthly light of no great power.
I had never seen such a thing before, but I had often heard of it, and I
recognised our strange visitors at once as _corposants_, or "lamps of
Saint Elmo," as they are called by the seamen of the Mediterranean;
though our own sailors call them by the less dignified name of "Davy
Jones' lanterns."
"What d'ye think of bein' boarded by the likes of that?" again queried
Bob, in a hoarse whisper. "Old Davy is out on a cruise to-night, I
reckon; and it looks as though he meant to pay _us_ a visit, by his
h'isting them two lanterns of his'n in our rigging. Did ye ever see
anything like it afore, Harry, lad?"
"Never," replied I, "but I have often heard them spoken of, old man; and
though they certainly _are_ rather queer to look at, they are easily
accounted for. I have heard, it said that they are the result of a
peculiar electrical condition of the atmosphere, and that the
electricity, attracted by any such points as the yard-arms or mast-heads
of a ship, accumulates there until it becomes visible in the form we are
now looking at."
"And is the light never visible except at the end of a spar?" queried
Bob.
"I believe not," I replied; "but--"
"Then sail ho!" exclaimed Bob excitedly, pointing in the direction of
our starboard-bow.
I looked in the direction he indicated, but was too late: we were on the
very summit of a wave at the moment that Bob spoke, but were now
settling into the trough. As we rose to the next sea, however, I not
only saw the ghostly light, but also got an indistinct view of the ship
herself.
She was fearfully close, but appeared to be at the moment sheering away
from us. She looked long enough for a three-masted vessel, but one mast
only was standing, evidently the mainmast. The corposant appeared to
have attached itself to the stump of her foremast, which had been
carried away about fifteen or twenty feet from the deck, and I thought
her bowsprit seemed also to be missing.
She was scudding under close-reefed maintopsail, and, from her sluggish
movements, was evidently very much overloaded, or, what I thought more
probable, had a great deal of water in her. I was the more inclined to
this opinion from the peculiar character of her motions.
As she rose on the back of a sea, her stern seemed at first to be
_pinned down_, as it were, until it appeared as though the following
wave would run clean over her; but gradually her stern rose until it was
a considerable height above the water, whilst her bow in its turn seemed
weighed down, as would be the case with a large body of water rushing
from aft forward.
They evidently saw our light, for a faint hail of "-- ahoy!" came down
the wind to us from her.
"In distress and wants assistance, by the look of it," remarked Bob.
"But, poor chaps, it's little of that we can give 'em. Heaven and
'arth! look at that, Harry."
As he spoke, the ship, which was rushing forward furiously on the back
of a sea, suddenly sheered wildly to port, until she lay broadside-to;
the crest of the sea overtook her, and, breaking on board her in one
vast volume of wildly flashing foam, threw her down upon her beam-ends,
and, as it swept over her, her mast declined more and more towards the
water, until it lay submerged.
Then, as we gazed in speechless horror at the dreadful catastrophe, a
loud, piercing shriek rang out clear and shrill above the hoarse
diapason of the howling tempest. She rolled completely bottom upwards,
and then disappeared.
"Broached to, and capsized!" ejaculated we both in the same breath.
"Jump below, Bob, and rouse up a coil of line, whilst I get the life-
buoys ready," exclaimed I, after a single moment's pause to collect my
scattered faculties.
In an instant I had all four of the buoys ready, and two of them bent on
to the longest rope-ends I could lay my hands on, and, in another, that
glorious Bob appeared with a coil of ratline on his shoulder and a
lighted blue-light in his hand.
The stops were cut and the ends of the coil cleared in no time, and the
two remaining buoys bent on, while Bob held the blue-light aloft at
arm's length, for the double purpose of throwing the light as far as
possible over the water, and also to indicate our whereabouts to any
strong swimmer who might be struggling for his life among the mountain
surges, and to guide him to our tiny ark of refuge.
For nearly an hour did we peer anxiously into the gloom, in the hope of
seeing some poor soul within reach of such assistance as it was in our
power to afford, but in vain; there is no doubt that the vessel sucked
all hands down with her when she sank into her watery grave.
When at last we reluctantly desisted from our efforts, and were in the
act of securing the lifebuoys once more, Bob cast his eyes aloft, and
called my attention to the fact that the corposants had disappeared.
"Depend on't, Harry," quoth he, "them lanterns didn't come aboard of us
for nothing. They mightn't have meant mischief for _us_ exactly--for
you can't always read Old Davy's signs aright; but you see they _did_
mean mischief, and plenty of it too, for they no sooner appears aloft
than a fine ship and her crew goes down close alongside of us; and as
soon as that bit of work was over, away they go somewhere else to light
up the scene of further devilry, I make no manner of doubt."
It was utterly in vain that I attempted to argue the honest fellow out
of his belief that their appearance was a portent of disaster, for his
mind was deeply imbued with all those superstitious notions which appear
to take such peculiarly firm hold on the ideas of sailors; and against
superstitions of lifelong duration, argument and reason are of but
little avail.
As may readily be believed, our slumbers that night, after witnessing so
distressing a scene, were anything but sound. Bob and I were up and
down between the deck and the cabin at least half a dozen times before
morning, and it was with a sense of unutterable relief that, as day
broke, we found that the gale was breaking also.
By the time that breakfast was over there was a sensible diminution in
the force of the wind, and by noon it cleared away sufficiently overhead
to enable me to get an observation, not a particularly good one
certainly--the sea was running far too high for that; but it enabled me
to ascertain that we were at least sixty miles to the southward of
Staten.
About four p.m. I got a very much better observation for my longitude,
and I found by it that our drift had not been anything like so great as
I had calculated it would be. This I thought might possibly arise from
our being in a weather-setting current.
There was still rather too much of both wind and sea to make us disposed
to get under way that night, but we managed to get the craft up to the
buoy of our floating-anchor, which we weighed and let go again with five
fathoms of buoy-rope.
This was to prevent as much as possible any further drift to leeward,
and to take full advantage of the current, the existence of which we
suspected.
Next morning, however, the weather had so far moderated that, tired of
our long inaction, we resolved to make a start once more, so shaking the
reefs out of the trysail, and rigging our bowsprit out far enough to set
a small jib, we got our floating-anchor in, and stood away to the
southward and westward, with the wind out from about west-nor'-west.