of it than we desired, as our little boat was but poorly fitted to
navigate the open ocean in rough weather. Johnny began to manifest some
alarm, as we were tossed like a chip from wave to wave, and occasionally
deluged with spray, by a sea bursting with a rude shock over our bow. I
had not even in the violent storm of the preceding week, experienced
such a sense of insecurity, such a feeling of helplessness, as now, when
the actual danger was comparatively slight. The waves seemed tenfold
larger and more threatening than when viewed from the deck of a large
vessel. As we sunk into the trough of the sea, our horizon was
contracted to the breadth of half-a-dozen yards, and we entirely lost
sight of the land, and of both ships.
But it was evident that we were moving through the water with
considerable velocity, and there was encouragement in that, for we felt
confident that if the stranger should hold on her present course but a
little longer, we should be on board of her before our safety would be
seriously endangered by the increasing breeze.
If, however, she were really tacking, our situation would indeed be
critical. A very few moments put a period to our suspense by confirming
Arthur's opinion, and our worst fears; the stranger had altered her
course, her yards were braced round, and she was standing further out to
sea. Still, however, there would have been a possibility of reaching
her, but for the failure of light, for she had not so far changed her
course, but that she would have to pass a point, which we could probably
gain before her. But now, it was with difficulty, and only by means of
the cloud of canvass she carried, that we could distinguish her through
the momently deepening gloom; and with sinking hearts we relinquished
the last hopes connected with her. Soon she entirely vanished from our
sight, and when we gazed anxiously around the narrow horizon that now
bounded our vision, sky and water alone met our view.
CHAPTER FOUR.
AT SEA.
A NIGHT OF GLOOM--MORTON'S NARRATIVE--VISIONARY TERRORS--AN ALARMING
DISCOVERY.
"O'er the deep! o'er the deep!
Where the whale, and the shark, and the sword-fish sleep."
Even in open day, the distance of a few miles would be sufficient to
sink the low shores of the island; and now that night had so suddenly
overtaken us, it might be quite near, without our being able to
distinguish it.
We were even uncertain, and divided in opinion, as to the direction in
which it lay--so completely were we bewildered. The night was one of
deep and utter gloom. There was no moon; and not a single star shed its
feeble light over the wilderness of agitated waters, upon which our
little boat was tossing. Heavy, low-hanging clouds, covered the sky;
but soon, even these could no longer be distinguished; a cold, damp
mist, dense, and almost palpable to the touch, crept over the ocean, and
enveloped us so closely, that it was impossible to see clearly from one
end of the yawl to the other.
The wind, however, instead of freshening, as we had feared, died
gradually away. For this, we had reason to be thankful; for though our
situation that night seemed dismal enough, yet how much more fearful
would it have been, if the rage of the elements, and danger of immediate
destruction, had been added to the other circumstances of terror by
which we were surrounded?
As it was, however, the sea having gone down, we supposed ourselves to
be in no great or pressing peril. Though miserably uncomfortable, and
somewhat agitated and anxious, we yet confidently expected that the
light of morning would show us the land again.
The terrible and exciting scenes through which we had so recently
passed, had completely exhausted us, and we were too much overwhelmed by
the suddenness of our calamity, and the novel situation in which we now
found ourselves, to be greatly disposed to talk. Johnny sobbed himself
asleep in Arthur's arms; and even Max's usual spirits seemed now to have
quite forsaken him. After the mast had been unstepped, and such
preparations as our circumstances permitted were made, for passing the
night comfortably, Morton related all that he knew of what had taken
place on shore, previous to the alarm which he had given.
I repeat the narrative as nearly as possible in his own words, not
perhaps altogether as he related it on that night, for the circumstances
were not then favourable to a full and orderly account, but partly as I
afterwards, in various conversations, gathered the particulars from him.
"You recollect," said he, "that we separated at the boats; Mr Frazer
and the rest of you, going along the shore towards the point, leaving
Browne declaiming Byron's Address to the Ocean, from the top of a coral
block, with myself and the breakers for an audience. Shortly
afterwards, I strolled off towards the interior, and left Browne lying
on the sand, with his pocket Shakespeare, where we found him, when we
reached the boats. I kept on inland, until the forest became so dense,
and was so overgrown with tangled vines and creeping plants, that I
could penetrate no farther in that direction. In endeavouring to
return, I got bewildered, and at length fairly lost, having no clear
notion as to the direction of the beach. The groves were so thick and
dark as to shut out the light almost entirely; and I could not get a
glimpse of the sun so as to fix the points of the compass. At last I
came to an opening, large enough to let in the light, and show which way
the shadows fell. Knowing that we had landed on the west side of the
island, I could now select my course without hesitation. It was getting
late in the afternoon, and I walked as fast as the nature of the ground
would allow, until I unexpectedly found myself at the edge of the grove,
east of the spring where the men were at work filling the breakers. The
moment I came in sight of them, I perceived that something unusual was
taking place. The first officer and Luerson were standing opposite each
other, and the men, pausing from their work, were looking on. As I
inferred, Mr Nichol had given some order, which Luerson had refused to
obey. Both looked excited, but no words passed between them after I
reached the place. There was a pause of nearly a minute, when Mr
Nichol advanced as if to lay hands on Luerson, and the latter struck him
a blow with his cooper's mallet, which he held in his hand, and knocked
him down. Before he had time to rise, Atoa, the Sandwich Islander,
sprang upon him, and stabbed him twice with his belt-knife. All this
passed so rapidly, that no one had a chance to interfere--"
"Hark!" said Browne, interrupting the narration, "what noise is that?
It sounds like the breaking of the surf upon the shore."
But the rest of us could distinguish no sound except the washing of the
waves against the boat. The eye was of no assistance in deciding
whether we were near the shore or not, as it was impossible to penetrate
the murky darkness, a yard in any direction.
"We must be vigilant," said Arthur, "the land cannot be far-off, and we
may be drifted upon it before morning."
After listening for some moments in anxious silence, we became satisfied
that Browne had been mistaken, and Morton proceeded.
"Just as Atoa sprang upon Mr Nichol and stabbed him, Mr Knight, who
was the first to recover his presence of mind, seized the murderer, and
wrenched the knife from his hand, at the same time calling on the men to
secure Luerson; but no one stirred to do so. A part seemed confused and
undecided; while others appeared to me, to have been fully prepared for
what had taken place. One man stepped forward near Luerson, and
declared in a brutal and excited manner, that `Nichol was a bloody
tyrant, and had got what he deserved, and that no man could blame
Luerson for taking his revenge, after being treated as he had been.'
For a moment all was clamour and confusion; then Luerson approached Mr
Knight in a threatening manner, and bade him loose Atoa, instead of
which, he held his prisoner firmly with one hand, and warning Luerson
off with the other, called on the men to stand by their officers. Just
at this moment, Mr Frazer, with his gun on his shoulder, came out of
the grove from the side toward the shore, and to him Mr Knight eagerly
appealed for assistance in securing the murderers of Mr Nichol.
Pointing from the bleeding corpse at his feet, to Luerson, he
said--`There is the ringleader--shoot him through the head at once, and
that will finish the matter--otherwise we shall all be murdered--fire, I
will answer for the act?'
"Frazer seemed to comprehend the situation of things at a glance. With
great presence of mind, he stepped back a pace, and bringing his gun to
his shoulder, called on Luerson to throw down his weapon, and surrender
himself, declaring that he would shoot the first man who lifted a hand
to assist him. His manner was such as to leave no doubt of his
sincerity, or his resolution. The men had no fire-arms, and were
staggered by the suddenness of the thing; they stood hesitating and
undecided. Mr Knight seized this as a favourable moment, and advanced
upon Luerson, with the intention of securing him, and the islander was
thus left free. At this moment I observed the man who had denounced Mr
Nichol, and justified Luerson, stealing round behind Frazer. I called
out to him at the top of my voice to warn him; but he did not seem to
hear. I looked for something which might serve me for a weapon; but
there was nothing, not so much as a broken bough within reach, and in
another instant, the whole thing was over. As Knight grappled with
Luerson, he dropped the knife which he had wrested from Atoa, his
intention evidently being to secure, and not to kill him.
"Atoa immediately leaped forward and seized the knife, and had his arm
already raised to stab Mr Knight in the back, when Frazer shot him
dead. At almost the same instant, Luerson struck Mr Knight a
tremendous blow on the head with his mallet, which felled him to the
earth, stunned and lifeless. He next rushed upon Frazer, who had fairly
covered him with the muzzle of his piece, and would inevitably have shot
him, but just as he pulled the trigger, the man whom I had seen creeping
round behind him, sprang upon him, and deranged his aim; two or three of
the others, who had stood looking on, taking no part in the affair, now
interposed, and by their assistance Frazer was overpowered and secured.
Whether they murdered him or not, as Luerson afterwards declared, I do
not know. As soon as the struggle was over, the man who had seconded
Luerson so actively throughout, (the tall dark man who goes by the name
of `the Boatswain,') shouted out, `Now, then, for the ship!' `Yes, for
the ship!' cried Luerson, `though this has not come about just as was
arranged, and has been hurried on sooner than we expected; it is as well
so as any way, and must be followed up. There's no one aboard but the
captain, and four or five men and boys, all told: the landsmen are all
ashore, scattered over the island. We can take her without risk--and
then for a merry life at the islands!'
"This revealed the designs of the mutineers, and I determined to
anticipate them if possible. As I started for the beach I was observed,
and they hailed me; but without paying any attention to their shouts, I
ran as fast, at least, as I ever ran before, until I came out of the
forest, near where you were standing."
From the words of Luerson which Morton had heard, it was clear that the
mutiny had not been a sudden and unpremeditated act; and we had no doubt
that it had grown out of the difficulties at the Kingsmills, between him
and the unfortunate Mr Nichol.
It was quite late before we felt any disposition to sleep; but
notwithstanding the excitement and the discomforts of our situation, we
began at length to experience the effects of the fatigue and anxiety
which we had undergone, and bestowing ourselves as conveniently as
possible about the boat, which furnished but slender accommodations for
such a number, we bade each other the accustomed "good night," and one
by one dropped asleep.
Knowing that we could not be far from land, and aware of our liability
to be drifted ashore during the night, it had been decided to maintain a
watch. Arthur, Morton, and I had agreed to divide the time between us
as accurately as possible, and to relieve one another in turn. The
first watch fell to Arthur, the last to me, and, after exacting a
promise from Morton, that he would not fail to awaken me when it was
fairly my turn, I laid down upon the ceiling planks, close against the
side of the boat between which, and Browne, who was next me, there was
barely room to squeeze myself.
It was a dreary night. The air was damp, and even chilly. The
weltering of the waves upon the outside of the thin plank against which
my head was pressed, made a dismal kind of music, and suggested vividly
how frail was the only barrier that separated us from the wide, dark
waste of waters, below and around.
The heavy, dirge-like swell of the ocean, though soothing, in the
regularity and monotony of its sluggish motion, sounded inexpressibly
mournful.
The gloom of the night, and the tragic scenes of the day, seemed to give
character to my dreams, for they were dark and hideous, and so terribly
vivid, that I several times awoke strangely agitated.
At one time I saw Luerson, with a countenance of supernatural malignity,
and the expression of a fiend, murdering poor Frazer. At another, our
boat seemed drawn by some irresistible, but unseen power, to the verge
of a yawning abyss, and began to descend between green-glancing walls of
water, to vast depths, where undescribed sea-monsters, never seen upon
the surface, glided about in an obscurity that increased their
hideousness. Suddenly the feeble light that streamed down into the gulf
through the green translucent sea, seemed to be cut off; the liquid
walls closed above our heads; and we were whirled away, with the sound
of rushing waters, and in utter darkness.
All this was vague and confused, and consisted of the usual "stuff that
dreams are made of." What followed, was wonderfully vivid and real:
every thing was as distinct as a picture, and it has left an indelible
impression upon my mind; there was something about it far more awful
than all the half-defined shapes and images of terror that preceded it.
I seemed to be all alone, in our little boat, in the midst of the sea.
It was night--and what a night! not a breath of wind rippled the glassy
waters. There was no moon, but the sky was cloudless, and the stars
were out, in solemn and mysterious beauty. Every thing seemed
preternaturally still, and I felt oppressed by a strange sense of
loneliness; I looked round in vain for some familiar object, the sight
of which might afford me relief. But far, far as the eye could reach,
to the last verge of the horizon, where the gleaming sapphire vault
closed down upon the sea, stretched one wide, desolate, unbroken
expanse. I seemed to be isolated and cut off from all living things:
"Alone--alone, all, all alone!
Alone on the wide, wide sea;
So lonely 'twas, that God himself
Scarce seemed there to be."
And there was something in this feeling, and in the universal,
death-like silence, that was unutterably awful. I tried to pray--to
think of God as present even there--to think of Him as "Our Father"--as
caring for and loving his creatures--and thus to escape the desolating
sense of loneliness that oppressed me. But it was in vain; I could not
pray: there was something in the scene that mocked at faith, and seemed
in harmony with the dreary creed of the atheist. The horrible idea of a
godless universe came upon me, bidding me relinquish, as a fond
illusion, the belief in a Heavenly Father,--
"Who sees with equal eye, as Lord of all,
A hero perish, or a sparrow fall."
Language cannot express the desolation of that thought.
Then the scene changed once more. We were again on board the ship, and
in the power of the enraged mutineers, about to suffer whatever their
vengeance might impel them to inflict. Poor Spot was swinging, a livid
corpse, at one of the yard-arms. Browne was bound to the main-mast,
while Luerson and his fiendish crew were exhausting their ingenuity in
torturing him. The peculiar expression of his mild, open countenance,
distorted by pain, went to my heart, and the sound of that familiar and
friendly voice, now hoarse and broken, and quivering with agony,
thrilled me with horror. As he besought his tormentors to kill him at
once, I thought that I kneeled to Luerson, and seconded the entreaty--
the greatest favour that could be hoped from him. The rest of us were
doomed to walk the plank. Morton was stern and silent; Max pale and
sorrowful; his arm was round my neck, and he murmured that life was
sweet, and that it was a hard and terrible thing to die--to die so!
Arthur, calm and collected, cheered and encouraged us; and his face
seemed like the face of an angel, as he spoke sweetly and solemnly, of
the goodness and the love of God, and bade us put our whole trust and
hope in Christ our Saviour. His earnest words and serene look, soothed
and strengthened us; we also became calm and almost resigned. There was
no abject fear, no useless cries, or supplications to our foes for
mercy; but the solemn sense of the awfulness of death, was mingled with
a sweet and sustaining faith in God, and Christ, and Immortality. Hand
in hand, like brothers, we were preparing to take the fearful plunge--
when I started and awoke.
Even the recollection of our real situation was insufficient to impair
the deep sense of relief which I experienced. My first impulse was to
thank God that these were but dreams; and if I had obeyed the next, I
should have embraced heartily each of my slumbering companions; for in
the first confusion of thought and feeling, my emotions were very much
what they would naturally have been, had the scenes of visionary terror,
in which we seemed to have just participated together, been real.
Morton was at his post, and I spoke to him, scarcely knowing or caring
what I said. All I wanted, was to hear his voice, to revive the sense
of companionship, and so escape the painful impressions which even yet
clung to me.
He said that he had just commenced his watch, Arthur having called him
but a few moments before. The night was still lowering and overcast,
but there was less wind and sea than when I first laid down. I proposed
to relieve him at once, but he felt no greater inclination to sleep than
myself and we watched together until morning. The two or three hours
immediately before dawn seemed terribly long. Just as the first grey
light appeared in the east, Arthur joined us. A dense volume of vapour
which rested upon the water, and contributed to the obscurity in which
we were enveloped, now gathered slowly into masses, and floated upward
as the day advanced, gradually clearing the prospect; and we kept
looking out for the island, in the momentary expectation of seeing it
loom up before us through the mist. But when, as the light increased,
and the fog rolled away, the boundaries of our vision rapidly enlarged,
and still no land could be seen, we began to feel seriously alarmed. A
short period of intense and painful anxiety followed, during which we
continued alternately gazing, and waiting for more light, and again
straining our aching eyes in every direction, and still in vain.
At last it became evident that we had in some manner drifted completely
away from the island. The appalling conviction could no longer be
resisted. There we were, lost and helpless, on the open ocean, in our
chip of a boat, without provisions for a single day, or, to speak more
definitely, without a morsel of bread or a drop of water.
CHAPTER FIVE.
THE CONSULTATION.
OUT OF SIGHT OF LAND--SLENDER RESOURCES--WHAT'S TO BE DONE?
"How rapidly, how rapidly, we ride along the sea!
The morning is all sunshine, the wind is blowing free;
The billows are all sparkling, and bounding in the light,
Like creatures in whose sunny veins, the blood is running bright."
Morton alone still refused to relinquish the hope, that by broad
daylight, we should yet be able to make out the island. He persisted in
pronouncing it wholly incredible that we had made during the night, a
distance sufficient to sink the land, which was but three or four miles
off at the utmost, when we were overtaken by darkness; he could not
understand, he said, how such a thing was possible.
Arthur accounted for it, by supposing that we had got into the track of
one of the ocean currents that exist in those seas, especially among the
islands, many of which run at the rate of from two to three miles an
hour.
This seemed the more probable, from the fact, that we were to the west
of the island, when we lost sight of it, and that the great equatorial
current, which traverses the Pacific and Indian oceans, has a prevailing
westerly course, though among the more extensive groups and clusters of
islands, it is so often deflected hither and thither, by the obstacles
which it encounters, or turned upon itself, in eddies or
counter-currents, that no certain calculations can be made respecting
it. Morton, however, did not consider this supposition sufficient to
explain the difficulty.
"I should judge," said he, "that in a clear day, such an island might be
seen fifteen or twenty miles, and we cannot have drifted so great a
distance."
"It might perhaps be seen," said Arthur, "as far as that, from the
mast-head of a ship, or even from her deck, but not from a small boat
hardly raised above the surface of the water. At our present level,
eight or ten miles would be enough to sink it completely."
At length, when it was broad day, and from the appearance of the eastern
sky, the sun was just about to rise, Morton stepped the mast and climbed
to the top, in the hope that from that additional elevation, slight as
it was, he might catch a glimpse of land. There was by this time light
enough, as he admitted, to see any thing that could be seen at all, and
after making a deliberate survey of our whole horizon, he was fully
convinced that we had drifted completely away from the island. "I give
it up," he said, as he slid down the mast, "we are at sea, beyond all
question."
Presently Max awoke. He cast a quick, surprised look around, and at
first seemed greatly shocked. He speedily recovered himself, however,
and after another, and closer, scrutiny of the horizon, thought that he
detected an appearance like that of land in the south. For a moment
there was again the flutter of excited hope, as every eye was turned
eagerly in that direction; but it soon subsided. A brief examination
satisfied us all, that what we saw, was but a low bank of clouds lying
against the sky.
"This really begins to look serious," said I; "what are we to do?"
"It strikes me," replied Morton, "that we are pretty much relieved from
the necessity of considering that question; our only part for the
present seems to be a passive one."
"I can't fully persuade myself that this is real," said Max; "it half
seems like an ugly dream, from which we should awake by-and-by, and draw
a long breath at the relief of finding it no more than a dream."
"We are miserably provisioned for a sea voyage," said Morton; "but I
believe the breaker is half full of water; without that we should indeed
be badly off."
"There is not a drop in it," said Arthur, shaking his head, and he
lifted the breaker and shook it lightly--it was quite empty.
He now proceeded to force open the locker, in the hope of finding them
something that might be serviceable to us; but its entire contents
consisted of a coil of fine rope, some pieces of rope-yarn, an empty
quart-bottle, and an old and battered hatchet-head.
Meanwhile, Browne, without a trace of anxiety upon his upturned
countenance, and Johnny, who nestled close beside him, continued to
sleep soundly, in happy unconsciousness of our alarming situation.
"Nothing ever interferes with the soundness of Browne's sleep, or the
vigour of his appetite," said Max, contemplating his placid slumbers
with admiration. "I should be puzzled to decide whether sleeping,
eating, or dramatic recitation, is his forte; it certainly lies between
the three."
"Poor fellow!" said Morton, "from present appearances, and the state of
our supplies, he will have to take it all out in sleeping, for some time
to come, as it is to be presumed he'll hardly feel like spouting."