The _Good Intent_ ran on before the increasing gale. The fast-rising
seas came rolling up astern, threatening every instant to poop her, for,
having a full cargo, she was much deeper in the water than when we
sailed from Portsmouth. We quickly lost sight of the grating and spars
thrown to our hapless shipmates, and they themselves had before then
disappeared.
The first thing now to be done was to get the main-topsail stowed, for,
flying wildly in the wind, it seemed as if about to carry away the
main-topmast. The mate, Andrews, and two other men were on the point of
going aloft to try and haul it in, in spite of the danger they ran in so
doing, when a report like that of thunder was heard, and the sail, split
into ribbons, was torn from the bolt-ropes. The fragments, after
streaming out wildly in the wind, lashed themselves round and round the
yard, thus saving us the hazardous task of attempting to furl the sail.
The brig flew on, now plunging into the roaring and foaming seas, now
rolling from side to side so that it was difficult to keep our feet.
The fore-staysail and jib had been stowed in time, and the flying jib
had been blown away, so that the fore-topsail was the only sail set.
Thus hour after hour passed. Had we been running in the opposite
direction we should have been making good progress, but we were now
going farther and farther from our destination, to be driven into even
worse weather, and perhaps to have to make our way south round the Irish
coast. To avoid this, the captain was anxious to heave the brig to, and
I saw him and the mate consulting how it could be done. It was a
dangerous operation, they both knew, for should she not quickly come up
to the wind, a sea might strike her on the broadside and sweep over her
deck, or throw her on her beam-ends.
"If we get a lull it must be done," said the captain.
"Ay, ay, sir!" answered the mate; and he ordered the men to stand ready
to brace round the fore-topsail-yard as the brig came up to the wind.
Still we watched in vain for the wished-for lull. In spite of the
roaring seas I felt wonderfully sleepy, and could scarcely keep my eyes
open as I held on to a stanchion at the after-part of the deck. Jim was
much in the same condition, for we had both been on foot since the
morning watch had been called, and we had had no food all day.
The kind captain, observing the state we were in, instead of abusing us,
as some skippers would have done, ordered us to go below to find
something to eat and to lie down till we were wanted. We were making
our way forward when he shouted out--
"Go into the cabin, laddies. There is some bread and cheese in the
pantry, and ye'll be ready at hand when I call ye."
We quickly slipped below, and he again closed the companion-hatch which
he had opened to let us descend. The other hatches had been battened
down, for at any moment a sea might break on board, and if they had not
been secured, might fill the vessel.
Not a ray of light came below, but Jim and I, groping about, found the
bread and cheese we were in search of and soon satisfied our hunger. We
then, thankful to get some rest, lay down on the deck of the cabin--
which landsmen would call the floor--for we should have considered it
presumptuous to stretch ourselves in one of the berths or even on the
locker; and in spite of the rolling and pitching of the brig we were
quickly fast asleep.
I seldom dreamed in those days, but, though tired as I was, my slumbers
were troubled. Now I fancied that the brig was sinking, but that,
somehow or other, I came to the surface, and was striking out amid the
raging billows for the land; then I thought that I was again on board,
and that the brig, after rushing rapidly on, struck upon a huge reef of
black rocks, when, in an instant, her timbers split asunder, and we were
all hurled into the seething waters. Suddenly I was awoke by the
thundering, crashing sound of a tremendous blow on the side of the
vessel, and I found myself hove right across the cabin, clutching fast
hold of Jim, who shouted out, "Hillo, Peter, what is the matter? Are we
all going to be drowned?"
Before I could answer him there came from above us--indeed, it had begun
while he was speaking--a deafening mingling of terrific noises, of
rending planks, of falling spars, the rush and swirl and roar of waters,
amid which could be heard the faint cries of human voices.
The brig had been thrown on her beam-ends; of that there could be no
doubt, for when we attempted to get on our feet we found the deck of the
cabin almost perpendicular.
"Do you think the brig will go down?" shouted Jim.
The hubbub was so great that it was impossible to hear each other unless
we spoke at the very top of our voices.
"We must, at all events, get on deck as soon as we can, and do our best
to save ourselves," I answered.
Though I said this, I had very little hope of escaping, as I thought
that the vessel might at any moment founder. Even to get on deck was no
easy matter, for everything in the cabin was upside down--boxes and
bales, and casks and articles of all sorts, thrown out of the lockers,
mixed with the furniture which had broken adrift, were knocking about,
while all the time we were in complete darkness. The dead-lights had
fortunately been closed at the commencement of the gale, and the
companion-hatch remained secure, so that, as yet, no water came below.
Getting on our feet we were endeavouring to grope our way to the
companion-ladder when we heard two loud crashes in quick succession, and
directly afterwards, the brig righting with a violent jerk, we were
thrown half across the cabin, bruised and almost stunned, among the
numberless things knocking violently about. After a time, on recovering
our senses, we picked ourselves up and made another attempt to get on
deck. I now began to hope that the brig would not go down as soon as I
had expected, but still I knew that she was in a fearfully perilous
condition. I was sure from the crashing sounds we had heard that both
her masts were gone: that very probably also she had sprung a leak,
while we were far to the northward of the usual track of vessels.
At last we found our way to the cabin door, but groped about in vain for
the companion-ladder, till Jim suggested that it had been unshipped when
the vessel went over. After some time we found it, but had great
difficulty, in consequence of the way the brig was rolling, to get it
replaced. As soon as it was so I mounted and shouted as loud as I could
to some one to come and lift off the hatch.
No voice replied. Again and again I shouted, fancying that the people
might have gone forward for some reason or other and had forgotten us.
"What can have happened?" cried Jim, in a tone of alarm.