It was "the tail of a typhoon" with a vengeance; for as we raced onwards
through the boiling sea, now lit up by a very watery moon, lots of
broken spars and timbers could be seen, as well as several junks
floating bottom upwards, thus showing what the fury of the storm had
been and the damage done by its ravages.
Mr Mackay noticed these bits of wrecks and wreckage as the captain
spoke; and, mingled with a feeling of pity for those who had perished in
the tornado, came a satisfactory thought to his mind.
"Yes, sir," said he in reply to Captain Gillespie's observation, "we're
making a fair wind out of a foul one; but, besides that, sir, we've got
something else to thank the typhoon for, under Providence. It has
probably settled the hash of those piratical rascals that were chasing
us!"
"Humph! I forgot all about 'em," snorted out "Old Jock," equally
pleased at this idea. "No doubt they've gone to the bottom, and good
luck to 'em too. One can't feel sorry for such vermin as those that are
prowling after honest craft, and who'd cut one's throat for a dollar."
"We mustn't be too sure, though, sir," continued the first mate, as if
he had been turning the matter over in his mind. "We've managed to
weather the gale so far, and so might they. Those fellows are
accustomed to these seas and can smell a typhoon coming; so, if they ran
to windward in time, instead of lying-to and waiting for it, as we did,
they might have got out of it altogether by keeping ahead of it."
"Pooh!" ejaculated "Old Jock" contemptuously--"I've no fear of being
troubled by them again. They're all down in Davy Jones' locker by this;
and may joy go with them, as I said before!"
"Well, sir," said Mr Mackay, not pursuing his theory any further, and
desirous of turning the conversation, if conversation it can be called
when both were holding on still to the life-lines and shouting at each
other more than speaking, "what are we to do now?"
"Carry-on, of course," replied "Old Jock," with a squint up at the
watery moon and the flying clouds that ever and anon obscured its pale
gleams, making everything look black around the moment it was hidden,
"There's nothing else to be done but to let her scud before it until the
gale has spent its force. I wish we could get up some more sail,
though."
"Would it be safe, sir?"
"Safe!" snorted "Old Jock," sniffing with his nose up directly. "Why,
what the dickens have you got to be afraid of, man? We're now in the
open sea, with nothing in the shape of land near us for a hundred miles
or more anywhere you chose to cast the lead."
"But, you forget, sir," suggested the other good-humouredly, so as not
to anger the "old man," who was especially touchy about his navigation;
"you forget the rate the ship's going--over twelve knots?"
"No, I don't forget, Mister Mackay; and, if we were going twenty it
wouldn't make the slightest difference," retorted the captain, who was
thoroughly roused now, as the first mate could tell by his addressing
him as "Mister," which he never did unless pretty well worked up and in
a general state of temper. "I'd have you to know I'm captain of my own
ship; and when I say a thing I mean a thing! Call up the hands to try
and get some more sail on her; for I'm going to make the best of this
typhoon now, as it has made the best it could of me--one good turn
deserves another."
Of course there was no arguing with him after this; so all Mr Mackay
could do was to pass the word forward for Tim Rooney, and tell him what
Captain Gillespie's orders were--there was no good attempting to hail
the boatswain, for not a word shouted could be heard beyond the poop.
"Begorra, it's a risky game, puttin' sail on her, sorr," said Tim
meeting Mr Mackay half-way on the main-deck; "but we moight thry
lettin' out a schrap more av the fores'le, if the houl lot don't fetch
away."
"We must try it," returned Mr Mackay. "He will have it so."
"All right, sorr, I'm agreeayble, as the man aid whin he wor agoin' to
be hung," said Tim Rooney grinning, never taking anything serious for
very long; "faix I'll go up mesilf if I can't get none av the hands to
volunteer. I couldn't order 'em yet, sorr, for it's more'n a man's
loife is worth to get on a yard with this wind."
"Very good, Rooney, do your best," replied Mr Mackay. "Only don't run
into any danger. We can't afford to loose you, bo'sun."
"Troth I'll take care av that same, sorr," returned Tim with a laugh.
"I wants another jollification ashore afore I'd be after losin' the
noomber av me mess."
I had come down from off the poop with Mr Mackay, and now, standing by
his side, watched with anxiety Tim's movements.
He had no lack of volunteers, however, for the ticklish work of laying
out on the yard, Joe Fergusson's previous example having inspired
whatever pluck was previously wanting; and, almost as soon as he got
forward we saw several of the hands mounting the fore rigging on the
starboard side--this being the least dangerous, as there was no chance
of their being blown into the sea against the wind.
But Tim Rooney would not suffer them to go aloft alone, his stalwart
figure being the first to be seen leading the way up the shrouds, with
Joe Fergusson close behind, not satisfied apparently with his previous
attempt; and both, I noticed in the moonlight, which just then streamed
out full for a few minutes, had their jack-knives between their teeth,
ready for any emergency, as well as to cut away the double lashings of
the foresail, "sea-gaskets" having been laced over the regular ones so
as to bind the sail tighter to the yard.
As they went up, the crew were flattened like pancakes against the
ratlines; and Mr Mackay and I held our breath when they got on the
foot-rope from the shrouds, holding on to the yard and jack-stay, with
the wind swaying them to and fro in the most perilous manner. Tim
Rooney especially seemed in the most dangerous position, as he made for
the lee earing, whence he might be swept off in an instant into the
foaming waves that spurted up from the chains as if clutching at him,
while Joe Fergusson worked his way out to the end of the weather yard-
arm, fighting the fierce gusts at every sliding step he took.
Then, when all were at their posts, Tim gave some sort of signal to the
four others whom he allowed to go up with him, and at the same instant
the gaskets were severed, parties of men below slacking off the
clewlines and pulling on the sheets by degrees. By this means the
foresail, having been double-reefed fortunately before being furled, was
set satisfactorily, without a split as all of us below expected, the
hands getting down from the yards while we were yet hauling the tack
aboard.
The effect of this additional sail power on the ship was magical,
lifting her bows out of the water and making her plunge madly through
the billowy ocean, now all covered with foam and spume, like a maddened
horse taking the bit between his teeth and bolting.
"She wants some after sail to steady her," roared the captain bending
over the poop rail, although he held on tightly enough to it the while,
and calling out to Mr Mackay, who remained with me just below him on
the main-deck. "We must try and get some sort of rag up."
Mr Mackay made a motion up at the fragments of the main trysail, which,
it may be remembered, had been carried away by the first blast of the
typhoon.
"Aye," roared back "Old Jock," understanding him, and knowing that if
the first mate had spoken he couldn't have heard a word he said, from
the fact of the wind blowing forward. "I know it's gone, but try a
staysail."
"Bedad, he bates Bannagher!" said Tim Rooney, who had returned aft and
joined Mr Mackay and I under the break of the poop, where we were
sheltered more from the force of the gale. "I niver did say sich a chap
for carryin' on, fair weather an' foul, loike `Ould Jock Sayins an'
Mayins.' Sure, he wants to be there afore himsilf!"
"We must rig up a storm staysail, I suppose," replied Mr Mackay,
smiling at the other's remark. "Try one on the mizzen staysail--the
smallest you've got. Ask Adams, he'll soon find one; and, mind you,
send it up `wift' fashion, so as to lessen the risk of its getting blown
away, bosun."
"Aye, aye, sorr," said Tim, opening his eyes at this expedient of
hoisting a sail like a pilot's signal, and starting to work his way
forward again along the weather side of the deck. "Begorra, you're the
boy, sure, Misther Mackay, for sayin' through a stone hidge as well as
most folk!"
But the dodge succeeded all the same, and likewise had the advantage of
steadying the vessel, which did not roll nearly so much when the after
sail was hoisted, with the sheet hauled in to leeward; although, the
Silver Queen bent over when she felt it, as if running on a bowline,
notwithstanding that the wind was almost dead aft and she spurring on
before it.
As the night came on it darkened more, the moon disappearing altogether
and the sky becoming completely covered with black angry clouds; while
heavy showers of cold rain pelted down on us at intervals from midnight
till "four bells" in the middle watch.
Then the rain ceased and the heavens cleared a bit, a few stars peeping
out; and the phosphorescent light from the sea enabled us to have a good
view of the boiling waves around us, still heaving and tossing as far as
the eye could reach, although the wind was perceptibly lessening.
An hour later its force had fallen to that of a strong breeze, and the
captain had the topsails and mizzen-topgallant set, carrying on still
full pitch to the north-east, notwithstanding that just before dawn it
became pitch dark again and we couldn't see a cable's length ahead.
The starboard watch had been relieved shortly before this, but Mr
Saunders remained up, as indeed had most of us since the previous
afternoon; while Captain Gillespie, indeed, never left the deck once
since the first suspicion of the typhoon.
He now yawned, however, the long strain and fatigue beginning to tell on
him.
"I think I'll go below," he said; and, turning to Mr Mackay, all
amiable again, especially at having carried his point of "carrying on"
successfully in spite of the first mate's caution, he remarked with a
sniff, "You see, Mackay, we've gone on all right and met no dangers, and
it'll puzzle those blessed pirates, if they're yet in the land of the
living, to find us at daybreak!"
Just as he uttered these words, however, there was a tremendous shock
forwards that threw us all off our feet, succeeded by a peculiar grating
feeling under the ship's keel, after which, her heaving and rolling
ceased as if she had suddenly sailed from amidst the waves into the calm
water of some sheltered harbour. A second shock followed soon, but not
so violent as the first; and then, all motion ceased.
"By Jingo, she's aground!" snorted out "Old Jock," scrambling to his
feet by the assistance of Mr Saunders' outstretched hand. "Where on
earth can we've got to? there's no land here."
Mr Mackay said nothing, although he had his suspicions, which indeed
had led in the original instance to his remonstrance against the
captain's allowing the ship to rush on madly in the dark; but,
presently, as the light of morning illumined the eastern sky and we were
able to see the ship's position, a sudden cry of alarm and recognition
burst from both--
"The Pratas shoal!"
This was their joint exclamation; and, on the sun rising a little later
on, when the whole scene and all our surroundings could be better
observed, the wonder was that the Silver Queen was not in pieces and
every soul on board her drowned!
To explain our miraculous escape, I may mention that this shoal, which
Captain Gillespie and Mr Mackay so quickly named beyond question, was a
circular coral reef almost in the centre of the China Sea, and about a
hundred and thirty miles distant from Hongkong, absolutely in the very
highway of vessels trading east and west.
Breakers encircled it, showing their white crests on every side, the
sharp points of the coral composing the reef almost coming to the
surface of the water, while at some spots it was raised above it. In
these latter places it was covered with rank grass, exhibiting incipient
signs of vegetation; and, within the reef, inclosed by a lagoon some
three miles wide that went completely round it, lay a small island, on
which were several shrubs and a prominent tree on a slight elevation,
which will in process of time become a hill, whereon stood also the
remains of a pagoda, or Chinese temple, while pieces of wreck and
bleached bones were scattered over the shores. Of course we did not
notice all these things at first, but such was the result of our
subsequent observations and investigations.
As wild, desolate, and dreary a spot it was as ever anchorite imagined
or poet pictured; such, at all events, we all thought on looking at it
and realising the providential way in which our safety had been
effected.
It happened in this wise.
There were one or two breaks in the reef surrounding this desert isle,
as we could see from a link missing here and there in the chain of
breakers. This was especially noticeable towards the south-western
portion of the rampart the indefatigable coral insect had thrown up,
where an opening about double the width of the Silver Queen's beam was
plainly discernible. Through this fissure in the reef, piloted by that
power which had watched over us throughout all the perils of our voyage,
the ship had been driven; and she had beached herself gradually on the
shore of the little island, as her way was eased by the placid lagoon
into which she entered from the troubled sea without the natural
breakwater. Here she was now fixed hard and fast forward, with her
forefoot high and dry, although there was deep water under her stern
aft.
"Thank God for his mercy!" exclaimed Mr Mackay fervently; and I'm sure
I echoed this recognition of the loving care that had so wonderfully
preserved us. "We couldn't have got in here without striking on the
reef, if we had seen the entrance before our eyes and tried our very
best; not, at all events, with that gale shoving us on and in such a sea
as is running--only look at it now!"
"Oh, aye," agreed Captain Gillespie, gazing out as we all did at the
creamy line of foaming breakers all round, that sent showers of surfy
spray over the coral ledge into the placid lagoon, which was calm and
still in comparison, like a mountain tarn, albeit filled with brackish
sea-water all the same. "Oh, aye, it's wonderful enough our getting
here; but how are we going to get out--eh?"
"No doubt we'll find a way," said the other, who had bared his head when
giving thanksgiving where it was due; and whose noble, intelligent face,
I thought, as I looked at him admiringly, seemed capable of anything, he
spoke so cheerfully, his courage not daunted but increased, it seemed,
all the more by what had happened--"No doubt we'll find a way, sir."
But "Old Jock" wouldn't be comforted.
Obstinately insisting before, against Mr Mackays advice, that we were
going on all right, he was even more dogmatically certain now that we
were all wrong; saying that, as far as he could see, the ship and her
cargo and every one of the thirty-one souls she had on board were
doomed!
"I can't see how it's going to be managed, Mackay," he replied
despondingly to the other's cheery words, even his nose drooping with
dismay at the prospect, superstition coming to aid his despairing
conviction. "I knew there was something uncanny when those pigs jumped
overboard that evening, and I told you so, if you recollect, Saunders;
and you know, when I say a thing, I mean a thing."
"Aye, aye," said the second mate, thus appealed to; and who being a
shallow-pated man with little feeling for anything save the indulgence
of his appetite, thought there was some connection, now the captain put
it so, between the loss of the porkers and the ship's being castaway, he
not having been let into the secret of the reason for the strange
behaviour of the pigs on the occasion referred to. "Aye, aye, cap'en, I
remember your saying so quite well."
Mr Mackay couldn't stand this, and he walked down the poop ladder to
conceal his amusement; and I followed him when I found him bent on
consulting Tim Rooney as to what was to be done, the captain being
hopeless at present.
"Be jabers, we're in a pritty kittle av fish an' no mistake!" said Tim
when asked his opinion about the situation. "We might be able to kedge
her off, sorr, an' thin ag'in we moightn't; but the foorst thing to say,
sorr, is whither she's all roight below."
"A good suggestion," answered Mr Mackay. "Tell the carpenter to sound
the well at once."
"That'd be no good at all, sorr," interposed the other, "for the poor
craythur's got her bows hoigh an' dhry, while she's down by the starn.
The bist thing as I'd advise, sorr, excusin' the liberty, is to get down
alongside an' say if she's started anythin'. That big scrape she got as
she came over the rafe, I'm afeard, took off a bit av her kale, sorr."
"Right you are, Rooney, sensible as ever," said Mr Mackay. "We'll have
a boat over the side at once and see to it."
This, however, was a work of time, for the jolly-boat, which was the
only one of moderate size we had left, since the dinghy had been carried
away in the typhoon, was stowed inside the long-boat; and so purchases
had to be rigged to the fore and main yards before it could be raised
from its berth and hoisted over the ship's bulwarks.
But, all hands helping, the job was done at last; when Mr Mackay
descended the side-ladder into the boat along with the boatswain and a
couple of men to pull round the ship, so as to ascertain what, if any,
damage she might have received. I could not help noticing, though, that
the captain did not exhibit the slightest interest when the first mate
submitted what he was about to do and asked his permission--only telling
him that he might go if he liked, but he thought it of little use!
I should have liked to have gone with them too, and I mentioned this to
Tom Jerrold, as he and I leant over the bows and watched the jolly-boat
and those in her below us; for although Tim Rooney had spoken of the
ship being "high and dry" she was still in shallow water forward, the
shelly bottom being to be seen at the depth of two or three feet or so,
the beach shelving abruptly.
While the two of us were looking at the boat, though, and the island in
front spread out before us, with its solitary tree, ruined Chinese
pagoda and all, which Ching Wang was also inspecting with much interest
from the forecastle, we were suddenly startled by a shout aft from
Captain Gillespie, who still remained on the poop.
"Hi, Mackay," he cried, "come back. Here is that blessed proa and junk,
and a whole fleet of pirates after us!"
This made both Tom and I turn pale, although Ching Wang betrayed no
expression of alarm when we explained the captain's hail to him, only
his little beady eyes twinkling.
"You fightee number one chop, tyfong makee scarcee chop chop, Sabby? No
goodee when sailor-mannee fightee!"
When we got aft, where we were soon joined by Mr Mackay, who had
instantly obeyed the captain's order of recall, and said, by the way,
that they could not discover much injury to the ship forward save that a
portion of her false keel had been torn off, "Old Jock" pointed out some
specks on the horizon to windward. These, on being scrutinised through
the glass by the first mate, were declared to be the now familiar proa
and her consort, a fact which I corroborated with my naked eye from the
mizzen cross-trees whither I at once ascended.
The sea, I noticed too, had calmed down considerably outside the reef,
which the pirate junks gained later on in the afternoon, coming through
the opening we had observed to the south and west one by one, in single
file, and then advancing towards the Silver Queen in line.
Presently, when about half a mile off, they stopped on a flag being
hoisted by the leading proa, which appeared to command the expedition;
and then, amidst the hideous din of a lot of tin-kettly drums and gongs,
the pirates, for such they now showed themselves to be without doubt,
opened fire on the ship with cannon and jingals--the balls from the
former soon singing in the air as they passed over our masts, their aim,
however, being rather high and eccentric, although the first that
whistled past made me duck my head in fright, thinking it was coming
towards me.
"Oh!" I cried; but I may say without any exaggeration or desire to
brag, that I did not flinch again, nor did I utter another "Oh!"