When True Blue went below to tell Paul how bad the weather had become,
he left the schooner hove to under her foresail, which, being stretched
out completely in the body of the vessel, is the best adapted for that
object under all circumstances but two--one, is, that being low down, it
is apt to get becalmed when the waves run high; the other is, that
should a heavy sea strike the vessel, it is likely to hold a dangerous
quantity of water. The foreyard had been sprung, or True Blue would
have brought the vessel to under her fore-topsail. True Blue had not
long left the deck when a tremendous sea, like a huge black hill, was
observed rolling up on the weather bow.
"Hold on, lads--hold on!" shouted Tom Marline.
Harry, who was at the helm, in an instant passed a rope round his waist
and stood at his post, hoping to luff the vessel up so as to receive the
blow on her bows; but the roaring sea came on too rapidly--down it broke
on board the vessel, driving against the foresail like a battering-ram.
Over it passed, and the schooner in an instant lay on her beam-ends, the
water rushing in at each hatchway. The boats, guns, caboose, hencoops--
all the things, in short, on deck were swept away, with a great part of
her bulwarks.
Tom and the rest secured themselves under the weather bulwarks. They
had not been there many seconds before they recollected their companions
below. While Harry tried to reach the after cabin, Tom did his best to
get to the men in the forepeak. Letting go his hold, he was working his
way forward, when another sea struck the vessel.
"Oh, Tom is gone!" cried Fid.
No one could help him. Away the relentless sea washed him; but, just as
he was being hurled to destruction, he grasped the fore-rigging hanging
overboard, and hauled himself again on deck. Tim and the Dane dragged
him up to the weather side, where they were joined by Harry, who
reported that the cabin was full of water; and he added, "Oh, mates, it
will break my heart--the boatswain and True Blue must both be drowned!"
"Ay, and we shall be drowned too!" cried the Dane, who had been for some
time complaining of pain. "Our officers are gone, and we may as well go
too. There is no use living on in misery longer than can be helped.
Good-bye, mates!"
"Avast there, mate!" exclaimed Tom; "be a man. Don't give in till the
last! Let us hope as long as there is life. The day will come back,
and the sun will shine out, and a vessel may heave in sight!"
"No, no! I can't stand it!" cried the poor unhappy Dane. "I have no
hope--none! Good-bye!"
On this, before Tom could prevent him, he cast off the lashings by which
he was secured to the bulwarks, and, sliding down into the water, a
roaring sea, as if exulting in its prize, carried him far away out of
their sight.
"Oh, mates, this is very sad!" exclaimed Tom to his two younger
companions.
"True, true," said Harry. "Don't you think, now, we could do something
to try and save the vessel? If we were to cut away the starboard
rigging, she might be freed from her masts and right herself."
The suggestion was of a practical nature, and pleased Tom; and all three
setting to work with their knives, with considerable labour cut through
the shrouds. Scarcely were the last strands severed than the masts with
a loud crack went by the board, and with a violent jerk the vessel
righted.
"There, lads!" said Tom; "I told you things would mend, if we would but
trust in Providence."
Tom wished to encourage his companions, for the state of the vessel was
only apparently a degree improved.
"Ah, now, if we had had the bo'sun and True Blue with us, and the poor
fellows for'ard, we might have still done well. Howsomdever, daylight
will come at last, and then we shall see better what to do."
As he ceased speaking, Tim Fid uttered a loud cry. "Why,--oh, mercy!--
there be their ghosts!" he exclaimed. "Paul and Billy! It can't be
them! They've been drowned this many an hour."
"It's them, though!" cried Harry. "Heaven be praised! They are
beckoning to us; let us go aft and help them."
He and his friends were soon grasping each other's hands, and describing
what had occurred. Tom soon followed, and poor Tim, having recovered
his wits, and being convinced that they were alive, joined them.
Their condition was sad indeed. There lay the vessel rolling and
tumbling about in the stormy ocean, the seas constantly making a clear
breach over her, the mainmast gone altogether, but the wreck of the
foremast still hanging on by the bowsprit and violently striking her
bows.
It was found that the best place for safety was inside the companion
hatch, where they all collected; and being there partially free from the
seas, they endeavoured to get a little rest, to prepare for whatever
they might have to do in the morning.
At length daylight broke; but it did little else than reveal more
clearly their forlorn condition.
True Blue having been preserved himself, was anxious to ascertain
whether his companions might have escaped in a similar way. Tom assured
him that there was no hope; but he insisted on going forward to see.
The rest of the party watched him as he performed the dangerous passage,
for the seas kept continually beating over the vessel, and might easily
have washed him away. He reached the fore-hatch, and, stooping down,
called to the men. No answer was given. The water was much too high in
the cabin to have allowed them to escape, and he returned aft convinced
of their death.
For some hours no one had thought of eating, but hunger now reminded
them that it was necessary to try and obtain food. There was enough in
the vessel, if it could be got at; but the difficulty was to fish it up
from beneath the water.
In vain they watched--nothing appeared. True Blue, who was the most
active, made several unsuccessful dives; but returned at length so
exhausted that Paul would not let him go again.
At last a flag floated up. It seemed to come to remind them that it
would be wise to make a signal of distress. A small spar had got jammed
in the bulwarks. The flag, which proved to be a French tricolour, was
secured to it, and it was stuck in one of the pumps.
"I would rather see any ensign but that flying overhead," said Paul;
"but it will help to make us be seen, anyhow."
The night again returned, and during the whole of it they remained in
the same miserable condition that they had been in all day, the sea
raging as furiously, and the wind blowing as high as before.
The first thing in the morning, True Blue volunteered with Harry to go
and cut the foremast adrift. An axe had been found. Together the two
worked their way forward. Having secured themselves by ropes, they set
to work, True Blue with his axe, Harry with his knife. Now they were
completely covered with the seas which broke over the bows; again they
rose and drew breath, and made a few more desperate hacks, again to be
impeded by the next roaring surge. Several shrouds, however, had been
severed. Another sea, fiercer than ever, came rushing on.
A cry from Harry made True Blue turn round. The greedy wave was
whirling him away, when True Blue grasped him by the arm and drew him
once more on board, when he more firmly secured himself.
"We must not give in, though!" cried True Blue, and went on hacking at
the ropes.
Again Harry joined him, and at length the heavy mast went floating away
free of the schooner. Successful in their bold attempt, they returned
aft. Hunger was now an enemy much to be feared; for among all the
articles which kept continually appearing and disappearing from the
cabin, nothing fit for food had been discovered. At last two or three
roots appeared. Fid, who was on the watch, made a dart at them, and,
fishing them up, declared them to be onions; so they were. Several
others followed, and, being divided equally, were eagerly devoured. How
delicious they tasted!
"Never fear, lads, but what assistance will be sent us in some way or
other which we don't expect, if we trust in God," said Paul. "We didn't
expect to get these onions a minute ago, and we shall have more before
long, I daresay."
Nothing else, however, was found to eat during the rest of the day, and
another tempestuous night closed in on them.
Even in the darkness a gleam of hope burst on them; the wind sensibly
fell, and the clouds opening, exhibited a bright star above their heads.
Again the morning came.
"Lads, we must try and pump the vessel out!" cried Paul, rousing himself
with the first gleam of light.
The pumps without another word were manned; all hands set to work, and
in an hour a sensible diminution of the water in the vessel had taken
place. This encouraged them to persevere; but at length, overcome with
fatigue, they had to throw themselves on their backs on the deck, to
regain their strength. True Blue was the last to give in; but even he
had more than once to stop. By and by they divided into two gangs, one
relieving the other at the pumps, while they alternately bailed with
buckets. From sheer exhaustion they were compelled, after a time, to
knock off altogether; but they had so far rid the vessel of water that
there was no immediate fear of her sinking.
Before even they made a search for food, with considerable difficulty
they got up from below the bodies of their late shipmates, and, with a
sigh for their fate, launched them overboard. Already they were no
longer to be distinguished by their features.
While getting up the dead bodies, a prize had been discovered. It was a
small keg of water; it seemed to give, new life to all the party. This
encouraged them to hunt for other things. Some more onions and some
shaddocks were discovered, and in a tureen with the top on, a piece of
boiled beef. They had now no fear of dying of starvation or thirst for
some time, at all events.
True Blue's chief anxiety was about Paul, who suffered far more than the
rest, on account of his wound; still nothing would induce him not to
exert himself as far as his strength would possibly allow. The next day
after these occurrences, the sea went down so much that Paul determined
to get some sail on the vessel.
"How is it to be done, though?" asked Tom. "We've no spars, sails, or
rigging."
"Hunt about, and let us see if we cannot find what will do," was Paul's
answer.
True Blue dived below, and soon discovered some rope, a large coil of
strong spun yarn, a fore-royal, and the bonnet of the jib, a palm, sail
needles and twine, and many other useful articles; and beside these, one
of the ship's compasses, True Blue's quadrant, given him by Sir Henry;
and also the larger part of a long sweep, and two small spars.
Curiously enough, also, a page of an old navigation book, with the sun's
declination for that very year.
The first thing to be done was to get sail on the craft. Paul
thoroughly understood sail-making, and Tom was a good hand at it. A
mast was formed out of the sweep and one of the spars, which was secured
to the stump of the foremast. The canvas they had found was cut into a
gaff-sail, while the other spar served as the gaff. It was but a small
sail, little larger than that of a frigate's launch; yet, with the wind
free, it served to give steerage way to the schooner, and to send her
along at the rate of three knots an hour.
All on board had reason to be thankful when once more they found their
vessel, which had so long seemed on the point of foundering, almost free
from water, and gliding smoothly over the sea. Paul determined to
endeavour to reach Jamaica without touching at any other place.
All night they ran on. Sometimes, however, the wind fell so much that
they only made a knot an hour; but still, as True Blue remarked, that
was something if it was in the right direction.
The want of food was a serious affair, and they resolved the next day to
have a grand hunt to try and discover some. Both forward and aft there
was a great variety of casks, and bales, and packages, apparently taken
out of different vessels which had been captured. As soon as the sun
rose, the search was commenced. Another keg of water, found in the
forepeak, first rewarded their labours. Some pine apples and other West
India fruits were discovered; but a sack of potatoes or a cask of
biscuits would have been more acceptable.
Though fitted for fighting, the schooner had also a hold for the stowage
of cargo, and here was discovered a considerable number of casks of
French wine. Such a discovery as this wine among a set of unsteady men
would have been fatal, but to the present crew of the prize it was a
most valuable acquisition. A bundle of salt fish and a cask of pork
were next hauled out; a cask of bread was also discovered, though much
damaged by salt water. Altogether they were well satisfied with the
provisions they had discovered.
At noon an observation True Blue took showed that they had drifted a
considerable way to the southward, and that it might still take them a
long time to reach Jamaica. The rudder also was found to be much
injured, the rudder-head being split through the centre, as low down as
the upper pintle. It was with the greatest difficulty that it could be
kept together, or the tiller held in its place. It was therefore very
evident that it would be necessary to husband the provisions and water
with the greatest care, as they could not expect to avoid having a long
voyage, and might be reduced to very short commons before the end of it.
For three days the weather was fine. On the second day a spar floated
alongside, which they secured, and forthwith fitted as a mainmast; a
storm-jib which had been discovered was hoisted on it as a sail. It
stood pretty well; and now, as the schooner moved with some liveliness
through the water, the spirits of all on board revived.
"Ah, now, if that poor Dane had borne up like a man and clung to the
ship, he might have been as well and happy as any of us," observed Tom
to Fid as they were together setting up the fore-rigging. "Remember,
Tim, whatever happens, never despair. It's wicked and unmanly--not like
a true British sailor; and that's what I hope you will consider yourself
all the days of your life."
Tom was, as it proved, over sanguine. The following day, once more the
wind got up, as did the sea, and the helpless schooner lay battered and
knocked about by its fury. The fractured rudder-head continually gave
way, and, it being impossible to keep the helm properly down, the vessel
fell off before the wind, and several heavy seas broke on board,
reducing her almost to the same condition in which she had been before.
For two whole days she lay tossed and buffeted; more of her bulwarks
were stove in, and the companion hatch received so tremendous a blow
from a sea that it was nearly carried away. Had this occurred, the only
place of shelter in the vessel would have been destroyed.
During all this trying time, True Blue was the life and soul of the
little band. Though others gave way, he kept up his spirits, and
cheered and endeavoured to animate them. Even Paul desponded; but True
Blue was ever ready to offer some encouraging suggestion. The gale soon
must cease--deliverance could not be far off. This was the hurricane
season, when bad weather must be expected; and these gales were much
better than a regular hurricane, which would too probably send the
schooner to the bottom.
The gale came at last to an end, and comparatively fine weather
returned. In spite of all their care, their provisions had by this time
sadly diminished, and the fruits and roots were entirely destroyed and
unfit for food. They still had a supply of salt fish and abundance of
wine, and therefore they had no cause to fear dying of actual
starvation; but such food was anything but wholesome, and they would
gladly have exchanged the finest claret for half the quantity of pure
water and a supply of bread--even the hardest of sea biscuits.
Still, True Blue setting them the example, they made the best of
everything; and Paul took care that, as soon as the weather allowed
again of their moving about the deck, no one should be idle. The French
ensign was still flying at the head of the foremast. A lookout was
always kept for any sail which might heave in sight, that they might
steer so as to try and cut her off if possible.
One morning True Blue descried two sail on the weather bow. They
appeared, when the sun rose, to be standing towards the vessel. The
hopes of all on board rose high. The strangers were pronounced to be
English merchantmen by the cut of their sails and general appearance.
They bore down till within the distance of three miles or so, and then
suddenly hauled their wind, and stood off again under all sail.
Of course this unaccountable conduct met with no small amount of
complaint, if not of abuse. Even Paul Pringle could not help saying,
"If the fellows had no intention of helping us, why did they not stand
on their proper course, without bearing down to disappoint us?"
Some hours afterwards, he suddenly struck his forehead with the palm of
his hand, and exclaimed, "Why didn't I think of that before! Of course
it's that Frenchman's flag. I ought to have known that it could never
have brought us good. The masters of these vessels evidently thought
that the craft was still a French privateer, and that the Monsieurs were
playing them off some trick in the hope of catching them. We'll not
carry the flag any longer. Haul it down, True Blue."
More anxiously even than at first, all on board kept a lookout for a
sail. Several more days passed, and on each they were doomed to
disappointment. Tim Fid had the lookout one morning at daybreak. Those
asleep were roused up by his voice shouting, "A sail! a sail!--not three
miles to windward of us. We must be seen. Hurrah!"
Paul crawled on deck and took a look at the stranger, a large brig with
taut masts and square yards. "Yes, Tim, there is a sail," he said
slowly. "She is either a man-of-war or a privateer; but from the cut of
her sails, she is French. For my part, I would sooner remain on the
wreck than be shut up in a French prison."
All hands expressed the same opinion; but how to avoid being compelled
to go on board the brig was the question. The stranger soon espied the
schooner and bore down upon her. Paul eyed the approaching brig with
anything but looks of affection, when, as she drew near, who should be
seen on the poop but Sir Henry Elmore and Mr Nott, while forward were
several of the _Gannet's_ crew.
She hove to; a boat was sent on board, which conveyed Paul to the brig.
All that had occurred was soon explained. The brig was a privateer,
captured after a smart action, and Sir Henry had been put in charge to
carry her to Jamaica. He now took the prize in tow, and sent some fresh
hands on board to relieve those who had suffered so much in her.
In four days they arrived at Port Royal; and Paul and his companions
obtained the greatest credit for the way in which they had fought one
privateer and preserved their own prize from destruction.