PERILS OF THE DEEP.
Mr. Duff did not go forth alone; he was given a faithful partner in
all his joys and sorrows, a gentle helper in his work. Just before
the young missionary was ordained, he married the pious Miss Anne
Scott Drysdale, who for many years proved to him one of God's richest
blessings.
In the month of October 1829, in a ship called the "Lady Holland,"
the young couple embarked for India. They knew not the sufferings
and dangers that lay before them ere they should reach Calcutta, but
"farewell" is a bitter word, and it was doubtless with heavy hearts and
tear-dimmed eyes that some of the travellers saw the shores of their
native isle recede in the distance behind them.
Very rough weather was encountered by the "Lady Holland." Day after day
there was a succession of gales. Many inhabitants of India have never
seen the sea, the "black water" as they call it. Let them imagine what
it must be when nothing is to be seen around but furious waves, with a
strong sky above, and how one must feel when tossed on the surface of
the water. The ship plunges like a terrified horse, now borne aloft on
the top of a huge billow, then swept down into what looks like a watery
grave from which she may never arise. There is violent motion which
allows not a minute of rest; were it not for little wooden fences made
on purpose, the dishes would roll over from the tables, the sick would
fall out from the beds! Many of the passengers are lying in a grievous
state of exhaustion. The violent shaking, plunging, and rolling, make
them feel as if taken with deadly sickness, they can neither rise nor
eat till the fury of the gale be spent.
[Illustration]
Week after week the rough weather continued, and the ship was detained
by various causes, so that it was not till at least four long months
had passed that the "Lady Holland" had nearly reached the Cape of
Good Hope, the half way station on the way to Calcutta. How glad the
storm-tost passengers must have been at the thought of being, though
but for a short time, on firm solid ground, and able to look on green
trees once more! But the ship was never to reach the port, a time of
terrible danger was near.
On the 13th of February, at the dead hour of night, when lamps had been
put out, and most of the passengers had gone to rest in their cabins,
at that time the accident occurred. Those who had closed their eyes
in sleep were suddenly awakened by a violent shock, which almost made
their hearts stand still with fear! What could have happened to the
ship! The frightened passengers sprang from their cots, they rushed on
deck, wrapped in blankets, sheets, or whatever was near, only to find
their worst fears realised. The vessel had struck with violence on a
sandbank, her back was broken, she must ere long go to pieces! The wild
foaming waves were sweeping over her like hungry tigers eager to devour
their prey.
Mr. Duff had been half undressed when the shock took place. He too
ran up on deck, where he met the captain of the "Lady Holland," who
exclaimed in agony—
"Oh! She's gone! She's gone!"
It would be difficult to describe the scene which followed on that
awful night of the shipwreck, so as to bring it before the minds of
those who have never been in a storm at sea. Passengers were on the
deck, terror depicted on their faces, as far as they could be seen in
the dim light, they could neither stand nor sit without clinging to
some object near. All felt as if death were near, and after death the
judgment!
One voice, that of an officer, was heard to utter the bitter cry, "What
will become of me, I have been such a hypocrite!"
The wretched man knew not how to face the Judge of quick and dead
before whom he might so shortly be summoned to appear.
A few of the passengers were God-fearing people, and they even at such
an hour, were calm. Duff was one of these for whom death had lost its
worst terrors, he knew that God ruled the storm, and that the way
to Heaven was as short from a foaming sea as from the most peaceful
deathbed.
The missionary's clear voice was heard over the dashing of the waters
and the roar of the wind. Duff called out that as all might suddenly
be summoned together to give their final account, they had better join
in prayer as best they could for deliverance, if such were God's holy
will, or if not, for preparedness to meet Him. All passengers clustered
around the missionary, holding on so as not to be swept off the deck
by the waves, whilst the man of God poured forth his soul in earnest
supplications. Oh! What a never to be forgotten prayer meeting was that
in darkness and danger, on the billow-swept deck of the wreck!
Meanwhile the captain and crew were doing all that they could to launch
the longboat which might afford a means of escape from a sinking
vessel. The task was one of extreme difficulty; the sea was a mass of
foam gleaming white through the darkness now dimly lighted up by the
moon. At last, the work was accomplished,—the longboat was heaving up
and down on the waters near enough to the ship for the terrified people
on the deck to get in. But it could not hold more than one third of
those on board the doomed vessel.
No doubt the quiet prayer had calmed the spirits of those who had
joined in it, for now a very striking display of unselfish Christian
love was shown. Unmarried men said to those who were married, "You go
with your wives, you are two, we are only one." The wives had declared
that they would not go without their husbands.
But none of those on deck were to be lost. Through God's mercy the wind
abated; the little island of Dossen, like a place of refuge, was near.
The longboat with another smaller boat were able to make three trips,
and so at last each one of the shivering, dripping passengers and crew
was landed safe on the desolate isle.
Soon after the last trip had been made, the longed-for daylight
appeared. Before dawn there was no means of knowing whether the place
was inhabited. Dreary enough was the scene revealed by the opening day.
The island was merely a haunt of sea-birds, and the only persons to be
found on it were two men employed to collect their eggs. But the sight
of these two Dutchmen was welcome to the poor desolate shipwrecked
sufferers who had lost their all, especially as the strangers possessed
a cooking-pot, under such circumstances a valuable acquisition indeed.
The poor passengers and sailors dispersed, some to collect eggs, some
to collect grass and seaweed with which to feed a fire; others remained
beside the pot constantly employed in boiling sea-birds' eggs, as that
was their only food.
No doubt, Mr. Duff thought of the shipwreck of the great missionary,
St. Paul, saved like himself, from a watery grave, and cast, like
himself, desolate upon an island. But what gratitude must have filled
his soul when he looked on his beloved wife, preserved to him through
all that night of terrible danger! They had indeed lost their worldly
all, their clothes save what they actually wore, their property, money,
and books, wedding-gifts and parting keepsakes; all was lost to them
but each other, and their calm firm trust in God; shipwrecked and
stript of every earthly possession they were still rich in faith, and
each happy in the love of the other.
A sailor is seen advancing eagerly towards them. What is it that he
holds in his hand? Something which the waves have washed ashore from
the wreck.
What is the Missionary's surprise and delighted wonder when he
recognises "his own Bible" and an old Scotch psalm-book, somewhat
shattered indeed, but received with adoring gratitude as a gift from
the Lord! Would a bag of gold or a bracelet of costly diamonds have
been such a welcome treasure!
All the shipwrecked people were deeply affected by what they regarded
as a message from God. They knelt down on the white sand, whilst Dr.
Duff held a touching service. The Missionary read the 107th Psalm,
so suitable for these who had cried unto the Lord in their trouble,
and been delivered from their distress. Fervent prayer and grateful
thanksgiving followed the psalm.
For days the passengers and crew remained on the desolate island, till
they were relieved by a vessel sent from Cape Town, to which tidings of
the shipwreck had been forwarded. With what thankful joy they at last
landed on the shores of Africa, the inhabitants of Cape Town crowding
to see the poor tempest-torn wanderers, and to show them sympathy and
kindness. Several weeks passed in this haven of refuge before the Duffs
were able to embark in another vessel called the "Moira," to pursue
their voyage to Calcutta.
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