Feeling about, I discovered an axe slung just inside the
companion-hatch, on which I began hammering away with all my might--but
still no one came.
"Jim, I'm afraid they must all be gone," I cried out at last.
"Gone!" he exclaimed. "What, the old captain, and mate, and Andrews,
and the rest?"
"I am afraid so," I answered.
Again I shouted and knocked. Still no one came.
"We must break open the hatch," I said, and I attempted to force up the
top with the axe, but did not succeed.
"Let me try," cried Jim; "my arm is stronger than yours."
I got down the ladder and gave him the axe. He took my place and began
working away at the part where the hatch was placed. I could hear him
giving stroke after stroke, but could see nothing, for the hatch fitted
so closely that not a gleam of light came through it.
Presently I heard him sing out, "I've done it," and I knew by the rush
of cold damp air which came down below that he had got off the hatch.
Still all was dark, but looking up I could distinguish the cloudy sky.
Not till then did I know that it was night. We had gone to sleep in
broad daylight, and I had no idea of the number of hours which had
passed by since then. I sprang up the companion-ladder after Jim, who
had stepped out on deck.
The spectacle which met my eyes was appalling. The masts were gone,
carried away a few feet from the deck--only the stumps were standing--
everything had been swept clear away, the caboose, the boats, the
bulwark; the brig was a complete wreck; the dark foam-topped seas were
rising up high above the deck, threatening to engulf her.
The masts were still alongside hanging on by the rigging, their butt
ends every now and then striking against her with so terrific a force
that I feared they must before long drive a hole through the planking.
As far as I could make out through the thick gloom, some spars which had
apparently fallen before the masts gave way lay about the deck, kept
from being washed away by the rigging attached to them having become
entangled in the stanchions and the remaining portions of the shattered
bulwarks.
Not one of our shipmates could we see. Again we shouted, in the faint
hope that some of them might be lying concealed forward. No one
answered.
"Maybe that they have gone down into the fore-peak," said Jim; "I'll go
and knock on the hatch. They can't hear our shouts from where we are."
I tried to persuade Jim not to make the attempt till daylight, for a sea
might break on board and wash him away.
"But do you see, Peter, we must try and get help to cut away the lower
rigging, which keeps the masts battering against the sides?" he
answered.
"Then I'll go with you," I said. "We'll share the same fate, whatever
that may be."
"No, no, Peter! You stay by the companion-hatch; see, there are plenty
of spars for me to catch hold of, and I'll take good care not to get
washed away," answered Jim, beginning his journey forward.
Notwithstanding what he said, I was following him when I fancied that I
heard a faint groan. I stopped to listen. It might be only the sound
produced by the rubbing of two spars together or the working of the
timbers. Again I heard the groan. I was now sure that it was uttered
by one of our shipmates. It came from a part of the deck covered by a
mass of broken spars and sails and rigging. Though I could not see as
far, I knew that Jim had reached the fore-hatchway by hearing him
shouting and knocking with the back of the axe.
"Are any of them there?" I cried out.
"No! Not one, I'm afeared," he answered.
"Then come and help me to see if there is any person under these spars
here," I said.
Of course we had to bawl out to each other at the top of our voices on
account of the clashing of the seas, the groaning and creaking of the
timbers and bulk-heads, and the thundering of the masts against the
sides.
Jim soon joined me. We had to be very cautious how we moved about, for
besides the risk there was at any moment of a sea sweeping across the
deck, we might on account of the darkness have stepped overboard. We
lost no time in crawling to the spot whence I heard the groans
proceeding.
On feeling about we soon discovered a man, his body pressed down on the
deck by a heavy spar, and partly concealed by the canvas.
"Who are you?" cried Jim. "Speak to us,--do."
A groan was the only answer.
"Do you try and lift the spar, Jim, and I'll drag him out," I said.
Jim tried to do as I told him, but though he exerted all his strength he
could not succeed in raising the spar.
"Oh, dear! Oh, dear! The poor fellow will die if we cannot get him
free soon," I exclaimed, in despair.
"This will do it," cried Jim, who had been searching about, and now came
with the broken end of a topgallant-yard to serve as a handspike. By
its means he prised up the spar, while I as gently as I could dragged
out the man by the shoulders. No sooner did I feel his jacket than I
was almost sure that he was no other than our good old skipper. He was
breathing heavily, and had apparently been rendered unconscious by a
blow on the head. I at length got him out from under the spar.
"We must carry him below before another sea breaks on board," I said.
"Come, help me, Jim."
Together we lifted the old man, and staggering along the slippery deck,
reached the companion-hatch in safety. To get him down without injury
was more difficult. I going first and taking his legs, and Jim holding
him by the shoulders, we succeeded at last. While Jim supported him at
the bottom of the ladder, I hunted about till I found a tinder-box and
matches and lighted the cabin lamp. It showed us, as I had supposed,
that the person I had rescued was our captain. He was pale as death,
and bleeding from a wound in the head. The light also exhibited the
utter confusion into which the cabin had been thrown. I managed,
however, to clear a way to the state cabin, to which we carried the
captain, and then getting off his wet clothes placed him between the
blankets in his berth. Fortunately, there was a cask of water in the
pantry, which enabled us to wash and bind up his head, so as to staunch
the blood flowing from it. The operation was performed but roughly, as
all the time the sound of the masts thundering like battering-rams
against the side of the vessel warned us that, we must try to cut them
adrift without delay. I feared that already they had done some serious
damage. Even before we left the captain he seemed to have somewhat
recovered his consciousness, for I heard him mutter, "Be smart, lads.
Tell mate--cut away wreck."
Of course we did not let him know that besides himself we alone of all
the crew were left alive. In the cabin I found another axe, and Jim and
I, going on deck, began the difficult and dangerous task we had
undertaken.
The lower rigging, on what had been the weather side, had entirely given
way, so that we had only to cut that on the opposite side, but in
leaning over to reach the shrouds at the chains we ran a fearful risk of
being carried off by the sea as the vessel rolled from side to side.
We first tried to clear the mainmast. We had cut two of the shrouds,
when a sea, having driven the butt end against the side with fearful
force, lifted it just as the brig rolled over, and it came sweeping
along the deck, nearly taking Jim and me off our legs. With the
greatest difficulty we escaped.
"It shan't do that again," cried Jim; and dashing forward with axe
uplifted he cut the last shroud, and the mast was carried away by the
next sea.
We had still to get rid of the foremast and bowsprit, which were doing
as much damage as the mainmast had done, by every now and then ramming
away at the bows with a force sufficient, it seemed, to knock a hole
through them at any moment. I felt anxious to return to the cabin to
attend to our old captain, but the safety of the vessel required us not
to delay a moment longer than could be helped in cutting away the
remaining masts and bowsprit.
I observed soon after the mainmast had gone that the wind had fallen,
and that there was somewhat less sea running, and in a short time the
light began to increase. I do not think that otherwise we should have
accomplished our task. Jim sprang forward with his axe, taking always
the post of danger, and hacking away at rope after rope as he could
manage to reach them.
I followed his example. Often we had to hold on for our lives as the
seas washed over us. At length the work was accomplished. We gave a
shout of satisfaction as, the last rope severed, we saw the mass of
wreck drop clear of the brig. But our work was not done. There we were
in the midst of the North Sea, without masts or canvas or boats, our
bulwarks gone, the brig sorely battered, and only our two selves and our
poor old captain to navigate her. To preserve his life our constant
attention was required.
"We'll go below and see how the old man gets on," I said. "There's
nothing more for us to do on deck that I can see at present."
"Not so sure of that, Peter," answered Jim. "You go and look after the
skipper, and I'll just see how matters are forward and down in the
hold."
As I felt sure that the captain ought not to be left longer alone, I
hurried into the cabin. He was conscious, but still scarcely able to
speak. I told him that we had cleared away the wreck of the masts, and
that the weather was moderating.
"Thank God!" he murmured. Then, getting some more water, I again
dressed his wounded head, and afterwards proposed lighting the cabin
fire and trying to make him some broth.
"Water! I only want water," he said, in the same low voice as before.
I procured some in a mug. He drank it, and then said, "Get up
jury-masts and steer west," not understanding as yet, I suppose, that
the crew were lost.
"Ay, ay, sir," I answered, being unwilling to undeceive him, though I
wondered how Jim and I could alone obey his orders; yet, if we were ever
to reach a port, jury-masts must be got up.
As I could do nothing more just then for the captain, I was going on
deck, when I met Jim at the companion-hatch, his face wearing an
expression of the greatest alarm.
"Things are very bad, Peter," he exclaimed. "The water is coming in
through a big hole in the bows like a mill-sluice, and I'm much afeared
that before long the old craft will carry us and the captain to the
bottom."
"Not if we keep our wits awake, Jim," I answered. "We must try to stop
the hole. Come along."
Hurrying forward, we dived down into the fore-peak. We could now
venture to leave the hatch off, so as to give light below. Sure enough
the water was coming in terribly fast, but not quite so fast as Jim
described, though already the men's chests and other articles were
afloat.
The largest hole was, I saw, in the very centre of a bunk, so that we
could easily get at it. Dragging out all the blankets from the other
bunks, I rammed them into the hole.
"Hand me a board or the top of a chest--knock it off quick!" I sang
out.
Jim, leaping on a chest, wrenched off the lid and gave it me.
"Now that handspike."
There was one close to him. By pressing the board against the blankets,
and jamming the handspike down between it and the outer corner of the
bunk, the gush of water was stopped.
"Here's another hole still more forward, I can see the water bubbling
in," cried Jim, holding a lantern, which he had lit that he might look
round, to the place.
We stopped it as we had the first.
"It will be a mercy if there are no other holes in the side under the
cargo," he said. "We'll try the well."
We returned on deck, and Jim sounded the well.
"Six feet of water or more," he said, in a mournful tone, as he examined
the rod.
"Then we must rig the pumps and try to clear her!" I exclaimed. "It
will be a hard job, but it may be done, and we must not think of letting
the old craft sink under our feet."
We set to work, and pumped and pumped away, the water coming up in a
clear stream, till our backs and arms ached, and we felt every moment
ready to drop, but we cheered each other on, resolved not to give in as
long as we could stand on our legs.