"How's Harmer?" I asked, anxiously.
But Captain Billings, who was beside me, lifting up my head tenderly
with his arm placed round me, shook his head sadly.
"Poor fellow," he said; "you did your best, but he must have been gone
before you reached him. He's quite dead--you were too late to save
him!"
I declare this news affected me more than all I had gone through; and,
whether from weakness, or from the reaction after such violent exertion
producing a feeling of hysteria, I cannot tell; all I know is, that I
turned my face away from the kind-hearted skipper who was supporting me,
and cried like a child--I, who thought myself then a man!
Meanwhile, as I found out when I had recovered from my emotion and was
able to stand up and look about me, my shipmates had not been idle in
trying to retrieve the effects of our unfortunate landing; for which the
skipper upbraided his own carelessness, laying the blame on himself, and
saying that he ought to have known better than to have tried to rush the
boat in with such a ground swell on!
The tow-rope of the jolly-boat had been cast-off shortly before we
approached the shore, Captain Billings hailing Mr Macdougall and
telling him to bring her head to the sea, and lay off until we got
ashore; so, there she was, riding in safety, about half a cable's length
out, beyond reach of the surf, while we were tumbling about in it after
the long-boat had upset us so unexpectedly without ceremony.
Mr Macdougall was about to pull in at once, on seeing the
_contretemps_, but the skipper, the moment he fetched the shore, and
before I had gone in after Harmer, had directed him still to keep off
and get a line ready to heave in, as by that means those in the jolly-
boat would not only be able to land in a better way than ourselves, but,
also, some portion of the stores of our boat might be recovered, as well
as the craft itself--the long-boat having only turned over, and still
floating in the midst of the breakers, bobbing up and down bottom
upwards.
This task was now being proceeded with by all hands.
Forming again a line, as when they had dragged Pat Doolan and myself
out--the men holding each other's hands, for they had no rope as yet to
tackle on to--several articles near in shore had been already picked up;
and, now that I was all right again, the skipper at once set about
getting the jolly-boat in, besides trying to secure the long-boat.
Each, amongst other necessary parts of his equipment, had been provided
with a coil of strong half-inch line, in addition to their proper
painters, and on Captain Billings singing out to the first mate, and
telling him what to do, the jolly-boat with her six oars manned was
backed in just beyond reach of the surf. The end of the line, which Mr
Macdougall held ready with a sounding-lead attached to it to make it
swing further, was then hove ashore.
It fell short, some ten feet out in the midst of the eddy caused by the
backwash, but the leading hand of the long-boat's crew, after one or two
dives in the surf, in which he got knocked down and rolled over,
succeeded finally in grasping the sounding-lead.
Then, with a loud hurrah, the end of the line was hauled in towards us,
communication being thus established with those in the jolly-boat. The
stay the rope afforded steadied her in the water, so that she rode more
easily, which made the next operation, that of getting hold of the
overturned long-boat, more practicable, and not as likely to jeopardise
her safety as would otherwise have been the case.
The coil of rope was fully a hundred feet long, and of sufficient length
to pass twice between the jolly-boat ashore and back again, leaving a
few spare yards over; so, first throwing over a grapnel to anchor her
head out to the sea, the water being only some three fathoms deep where
she was riding, and the men in her being now wanted for something else
besides rowing to keep her from drifting in, the other end of the line
was belayed, and the boat easied in with the utmost care, two of the
hands still keeping to their oars, until she reached the wrecked boat.
Then Haxell, the carpenter, pluckily volunteered to jump over the side,
and try, by diving underneath, to catch hold of the long-boat's painter
or some of her headgear, all attempts to reach such by the aid of a
boat-hook being impossible from the motion of the two boats in the
restless water. After a bit, the taciturn but useful man obtained the
object in view, dragging out from below the long-boat's stern the very
tow-rope with which we had been previously pulling the jolly-boat along
while sailing towards the land, before casting her off, and our
subsequent upset.
This rope was now fastened to the shore-line with a double hitch, and
our lot on the beach hauling in, we presently had the satisfaction of
seeing the stern of our own craft working in towards us, the jolly-boat
still remaining out beyond reach of the rollers, until the long-boat had
grounded; when, seeing a proper opportunity, she too was got in safely--
without, however, any previous upset, like ours, and indeed without her
taking in any perceptible quantity of water so as to damage her cargo or
give her crew a ducking, all of whom, with the exception of Haxell, who
of course had sought a bath of his own accord, getting to land dry-shod,
unlike us, who had been drenched from head to foot, and were now
shivering with cold, the temperature of the air being below freezing
point.
It was now high-water, as Captain Billings observed from the marks on
the shore; so, as nothing more could then be done towards getting the
long-boat further in and righting her, and the hands were pretty well
tired out with their exertions, he called a rest as soon as the jolly-
boat was hauled up well beyond reach of the waves, which still broke
threateningly on the beach--impelled by the force of the wind, now
blowing a stiff gale from the south-west, and covering the beach with
breakers that sent showers of foam over us, even when we had moved many
yards away.
"Spell O!" sang out the skipper. "Boatswain, pipe down the men to
dinner."
We had to encroach on the jolly-boat's stores, the provisions being
divided between the two boats although our craft, being the larger of
the two, had of course carried the major portion. This could, however,
only now be looked upon as lost; for the seawater must have spoilt
everything eatable.
However, as the crew had gone through a good deal of hardship, the
skipper did not attempt to ration them down to any smaller allowance on
this our first evening on Herschel Island; and so, when a fire was built
up, and some hot coffee brewed by Jorrocks, who usurped Pat Doolan's
functions on this occasion, the Irishman being still too weak from his
efforts to rescue poor Harmer to be of much use yet, we all had a hearty
meal, feeling much the better thereby.
After this, the skipper told the men to lie down round the fire, which
we found very grateful when the sun had set, besides its enabling us to
dry our wet clothes; but the crew were warned that they would have to
rouse up about midnight, when Captain Billings expected the tide would
have gone down sufficiently to enable us to get the long-boat out of
danger, and turn her over on the beach beyond high-water mark.
I confess that I went off to sleep at once; and neither the shaking of
Jorrocks, nor the noise the men made in righting the long-boat, served
to wake me up till it was broad daylight next morning, when I opened my
eyes to find the sun shining down on a calm sea that hardly made a
ripple on the beach, with the long-boat upright in her proper position,
alongside the jolly-boat, and high and dry ashore.
There was a delicious smell of something cooking in one of Pat Doolan's
galley pots, hung gipsy fashion over a roaring fire, and superintended
by the Irishman, now himself again. A large tent had also been rigged
up by the aid of the boat sails and tarpaulins, making the place have
the appearance of a cosy encampment, and offering a pleasant change to
the desolate look it had worn the previous afternoon--when the sea was
roaring in, hurling a deluge of foam on the beach, and we, wet and
forlorn, were endeavouring to save the flotsam and jetsam of the long-
boat's cargo.
"Sure an' you're a foine gintleman, taking it aisy," said Pat Doolan,
when I went up to him. "An' is it a pannikin o' coffee you'll be afther
wanting, this watch?"
"I shouldn't refuse it if you offered it," said I, with a laugh.
"Be jabers, you're the bhoy for the coffee!" he replied cheerily. "An'
its meeself that's moighty proud to sarve you. Sure an' I don't forgit
how you thried, like a brave gossoon, to save that poor chap last
night!"
"Ah!" I ejaculated, feeling melancholy when he thus brought up Harmer's
fate, which had passed out of my mind for the moment. "But you did your
best, too, Pat."
"Bad was the bist then, alannah, bad cess to it!" said he. "There, now,
Mister Leigh, dhrink your coffee an' ha' done with it. The poor chap's
gone, and we can't call him back; but have you heard tell of the news?
Misther `Old-son-of-a-gun' is moighty bad this morning, too, and the
skipper think's he's a going too, by the same token!"
"Indeed!" I cried, turning towards the tent, seeing Captain Billings
standing close by it. The news was too true. The wetting and shock to
the system had completed what a low fever had begun, and Mr Ohlsen's
days--nay, hours--were numbered. Ere the sun had again set, we had to
mourn the loss of the second of our shipmates!
Towards evening of this day, the wind got up again even more fiercely
than it had done the night before--the heavy southern billows rolling in
again upon the beach with a terrible din, although they could do no harm
now to either of our boats, both being snugly sheltered beyond their
reach.
But when it grew dark, we witnessed a wonderful phenomenon.
It made many of the seamen believe that they were dreaming over again
the scene connected with the burning of the _Esmeralda_; while others
went almost wild with terror, fancying that the end of the world was
come--or that, at all events, the natural display we saw of the greatest
wonder of the arctic and antarctic worlds, was a portent of fresh
disasters to us, greater than all we had already passed through!
The heavens were as black as death all around, with no moon. Not a star
to be seen; when, all at once, the whole horizon glowed with a living
fire, lighting up the ocean in front of us, and reflecting upwards and
outwards from the snow-covered peaks on the background of water beyond
the beach. The wave-tossed surface of the sea changed to a bright
vermilion tint, making it look like a lake of raging flames. Through
the crimson sky, streaks of brighter light shot across at intervals from
right to left, and back again from left to right, in coruscations of
darting sparks that would ever and anon form themselves into crosses and
diamonds of different shapes; while, in the middle of this wonderful
transformation scene, the wind blew with immense force, howling over sea
and land with a wild shriek and deep diapason, accompanied by blinding
showers of hail and sleet and snow, that made us all creep under the
folds of the canvas of our tent for shelter.
"What is this? What does it mean?" I asked Captain Billings, who
seemed the only one of us unmoved by the unwonted sight, that had as
much terror as grandeur about it.
"It is what is called an Austral aurora--the _aurora Australis_, as
scientific men term it; though, how it is caused and what it is
occasioned by, I'm sure I can't explain to you, my lad. All I know is
this, that it is never seen in the vicinity of Cape Horn without a stiff
gale and rough weather following in its track; so we had better all of
us look out for squalls!"