The man whom I had observed when we were yet some distance off to be
lying huddled up in the bows motionless, as if dying or already dead, I
now saw had received a horrible wound on the top of his head that had
very nearly smashed in the skull, besides almost severing one of his
ears which was hanging from the cheek bone, attached by a mere scrap of
skin, the bottom boards of the boat near him being stained with blood
that had flowed from the cut, and his hair likewise matted together with
gore. Oh, it was horrible to see! He was not dead, however, as I had
thought, but only in a state of stupor, breathing heavily and making a
strange stertorous sound as if snoring.
His fellow-sufferer aft, who did not appear to have suffered so much as
his comrade, had seemingly swooned from exhaustion or exposure; as, on
my putting my arm round him and lifting up his bent head, the man opened
his eyes and murmured something faintly in some foreign lingo--Spanish,
I think it was; at any rate a language I did not understand.
But I was unable to notice anything beyond these details, which I
grasped in that one hurried glance; for as I was in the act of raising
up the poor chap in the stern-sheets, the skipper hailed me from the
bridge above.
"Below there!" he sang out. "How are the poor fellows? Are they alive,
Haldane?"
"They are in a bad way, sir," I replied. "They've got the life left in
them and that's all, I'm afraid!"
"Neither dead, then?"
"No, sir."
"Bravo! `whilst there's life there's hope,'" cried the skipper in a
cheery tone. "Are they quite helpless, do you think, Haldane--I mean
quite unable to climb up the side?"
"Quite unable, sir," I answered. "One's unconscious, and I don't think
the other could move an inch if he tried!"
"Then we must haul 'em up," said Captain Applegarth, turning to Masters,
who had popped his head over the bulwarks and was now looking down into
the boat, like the rest of the hands on board. "I say, bo'sun, can't
you rig up a chair or something that we can lower down for the poor
fellows?"
"Aye, aye, sir," responded old Masters, drawing in his head from the
bulwarks and disappearing from my view as I looked upwards from the
stern-sheets, where I was still holding up the slowly-recovering man.
"I'll rig up a whip from the foreyard and we can let down a hammock for
'em, tricing up one at a time."
"Stay, cap'en," cried Mr Fosset as the boatswain went bustling off, I
suppose, though of course from my position I could not see him, to carry
out this plan of his. "The davits here amidship are all right, as well
as the tackle of our cutter that had got washed away in the gale.
Wouldn't it be easier to let down the falls, sir, and run up the boat
all standing with the poor fellows in her as they are?"
"By George, the very thing, Fosset!" exclaimed the skipper, accepting
the suggestion with alacrity. "It will save the poor fellows a lot of
jolting, and be all the easier for us, as you say. Besides, the little
craft will come in handy for us, as we're rather short of boats just
now!"
"Short of boats, sir!" repeated the first mate ironically as he set to
work at once, with the help of a couple of the hands who jumped to his
side to assist him the moment he spoke, casting off the lashings of the
davits so as to rig them outwards, letting go at the same time the hooks
of the fall blocks and overhauling the running gear. "Why, sir, we
haven't even the dinghy left intact after that clean sweep we had from
the wave that pooped us!"
"Oh, aye, I know that well enough," said the skipper drily. "But, look
alive now, Fosset, with that tackle, and don't be a month of Sundays
over the job! Send down two of the cutter's crew to overrun the falls
and drop down into the boat. They can help Haldane in holding up that
poor chap astern and also bear a hand in hoisting up."
"All right, sir; we're just ready," shouted back the first mate as he
gave the word to let go. "Lower away there with the slack of those
falls. Easy, my man, gently does it!"
In another instant down came the fall blocks, with one of the hands
hanging on to each, the men alighting "gingerly" on the thwarts of the
boat in the bow and stern of the little craft, which became immersed
almost up to the gunwales with the additional weight.
This was only for a moment, for the next minute Mr Fosset gave the
signal to "hoist away," the falls having been hooked on beneath the
thwarts in a jiffey, and up we all went in mid air, "between the devil
and the deep sea," as we say afloat sometimes!
"Bravo!" cried the skipper when we reached the level of the gangway and
were all able to step out on to the deck. "That's very handsomely done,
my lads! Now let us see about lifting the poor fellows out. That chap
there in the bows seems in a very bad way! You'd better carry him into
the cuddy at once and let Mr O'Neil look after him."
"Indade, I will, sor," said our doctor-mate, who was standing near by
with a spirit flask in one hand and a medicine glass in the other, ready
to give immediate succour to the rescued men. "Carry the poor beggar
along an' I'll be afther ye in a minnit; for this other misfortunate
gossoon here looks as if he wouldn't be the worst for a dhrop of good
brandy, an' faith, I'll say to him fourst, avic!"
So saying the Irishman poured some of the contents of the spirit flask
into the glass, which he held to the lips of the man. Mr Fosset and I
were supporting him in our arms against the side of the boat, whence we
had just removed him.
The poor fellow's strength returned to him almost as soon as he had
sipped a drop or two of the brandy, and, starting away from the first
mate and myself, as if no longer needing our aid, he stood erect on the
deck.
"_Mil gracias, amigos_," he said, with a polite inclination of his head,
in apology like for shaking himself free from us. "_Estoy major_!"
Captain Applegarth stepped up to him.
"I am sorry I can't speak Spanish, sir, though I understand you to say
you're better. We're Englishmen all on board this ship, sir, and I'm
glad we've been able to pick you up."
The eyes of the man glistened and a pleased expression stole over his
face.
"What! You are English! he exclaimed excitedly. But--but I'm an
American! Only I've been so long in Venezuela amongst Spaniards that I
sometimes forget my own language."
Our skipper was equally delighted.
"By George!" he said. "I was sure you were no blessed foreigner, in
spite of your lingo, sir! Welcome on board _the Star of the North_."
The stranger looked round and his manner changed at once, and he pointed
towards our funnels anxiously and their escaping steam.
"A steam vessel, eh!"
"Yes, sir," said the skipper. "I command her, sir. Cap'en Applegarth,
at your service!"
"The deuce! I was forgetting. We passed you last night, I remember
now! and you're the captain?"
"Aye!" replied the skipper, not quite making out what the other was
driving at. "I'm captain of this ship!"
"Merciful Heavens!" cried the rescued man, falling on his knees on the
deck and bursting into a passion of sobs. "Thanks be to God! Yes,
thanks be to God! You will save her, captain. You will save her?"
The skipper thought the evident suffering he had gone through had turned
his brain.
"Save who?" he asked, adding in a kinder tone: "Of course, we'll do
anything and everything we can for you, but I must know my bearings
first, my friend."
The man was on his feet at once.
"I am not mad, captain, as you appear to think. I can see from your
manner you think so," he said. "I want you to save my Elsie, my only
child, my little daughter, whom those villains, those black devils, are
carrying off!"
"Your only child, your daughter--black devils," echoed Captain
Applegarth, astonished at the poor man's speech and at his wild and
agonised look. "What do you mean, sir?"
"Heavens! We're losing time while those scoundrels are getting away
with the ship!" exclaimed the other frantically and walking to and fro
in a most excited state. "Fire up the engines, pile on the coals and
steam like the devil! and go in chase of her, my good captain, you will?
For Heaven's sake, captain, for the love of God, start at once in chase
of her!"
"In chase of whom?" asked Captain Applegarth, still believing him to be
out of his mind. "In chase of whom?"
The man uttered a heart-rending cry, in which anger, grief and piteous
appeal were alike blended.
"In chase of a band of black miscreants who have committed murder and
piracy on the high seas!" he ejaculated in broken accents. "The blood
of a number of white men massacred by treacherous negroes calls for
vengeance, the safety of a young girl and the lives of your brother
sailors still on board the ship calls to you for help and rescue! Great
Heaven! Will you stand idly by and not render the aid you can? Think,
captain, a little girl like your own daughter--my Elsie, my little one!
Yes, and white men, your brothers, and sailors, too, like yourselves, at
the mercy of a gang of black ruffians! Sir, will you help them or not?"