CHAPTER XXXVII.

Once More They Take To The Chamois

Try the pumps. We dropped the sinker, and found the Parki bleeding at

every pore. Up from her well, the water, spring-like, came bubbling,

pure and limpid as the water of Saratoga. Her time had come. But by

keeping two hands at the pumps, we had no doubt she would float till

daylight; previous to which we liked not to abandon her.

The interval was employed in clanging at the pump-breaks, and preparing

the Chamois for our reception. So soon as the sea permitted, we lowered

it over the side; and letting it float under the stern, stowed it with

water and provisions, together with various other things, including

muskets and cutlasses.

Shortly after daylight, a violent jostling and thumping under foot

showed that the water, gaining rapidly in the, hold, spite of all

pumping, had floated the lighter casks up-ward to the deck, against

which they were striking.

Now, owing to the number of empty butts in the hold, there would have

been, perhaps, but small danger of the vessel’s sinking outright—all

awash as her decks would soon be—were it not, that many of her timbers

were of a native wood, which, like the Teak of India, is specifically

heavier than water. This, with the pearl shells on board, counteracted

the buoyancy of the casks.

At last, the sun—long waited for—arose; the Parki meantime sinking

lower and lower.

All things being in readiness, we proceeded to embark from the wreck,

as from a wharf.

But not without some show of love for our poor brigantine.

To a seaman, a ship is no piece of mechanism merely; but a creature of

thoughts and fancies, instinct with life. Standing at her vibrating

helm, you feel her beating pulse. I have loved ships, as I have loved

men.

To abandon the poor Parki was like leaving to its fate something that

could feel. It was meet that she should die decently and bravely.

All this thought the Skyeman. Samoa and I were in the boat, calling

upon him to enter quickly, lest the vessel should sink, and carry us

down in the eddies; for already she had gone round twice. But cutting

adrift the last fragments of her broken shrouds, and putting her decks

in order, Jarl buried his ax in the splintered stump of the mainmast,

and not till then did he join us.

We slowly cheered, and sailed away.

Not ten minutes after, the hull rolled convulsively in the sea; went

round once more; lifted its sharp prow as a man with arms pointed for a

dive; gave a long seething plunge; and went down.

Many of her old planks were twice wrecked; once strown upon ocean’s

beach; now dropped into its lowermost vaults, with the bones of drowned

ships and drowned men.

Once more afloat in our shell! But not with the intrepid spirit that

shoved off with us from the deck of the Arcturion. A bold deed done

from impulse, for the time carries few or no misgivings along with it.

But forced upon you, its terrors stare you in the face. So now. I had

pushed from the Arcturion with a stout heart; but quitting the sinking

Parki, my heart sunk with her.

With a fair wind, we held on our way westward, hoping to see land

before many days.

Mardi, and a voyage thither, Vol. 1 (of 2) · 第 37 / 104 章