things as we left them last night, would be enough to disturb one's
nerves somewhat; yet you see how little it affects him--and I now
predict that the first thing he will say on opening his eye; will be
about the means of breaking his long fast."
"I don't understand how you can go on in that strain, Max," said Arthur,
looking up in a surprised manner, and shaking his head disapprovingly.
"Why, I was merely endeavouring to do my share towards keeping our
spirits up; but I suppose any spirits got up under the present
circumstances, must be somewhat forced, and as my motives don't seem to
be properly appreciated, I will renounce the unprofitable attempt."
The sun rose in a clear sky, and gave promise of a hot day. There was,
however, a cool and refreshing breeze, that scattered the spray from the
foaming ridges of the waves, and occasionally showered us, not
unpleasantly, with the fine liquid particles. A sea, breaking over our
bow, dashed a bucket-full of water into Browne's face, and abruptly
disturbed his slumbers.
"Good morning, comrades!" said he, sitting up, and looking about him
with a perplexed and bewildered air. "But how is this? Ah! I
recollect it all now. So then, we are really out of sight of land!"
"There is no longer any doubt of that," said Arthur, "and it is now time
for us to decide what we shall do--our chance of falling in with a ship
will be quite as good, and that of reaching land will of course be much
better, if, instead of drifting like a log upon the water, we put up our
sail, and steer in almost any direction; though I think there is a
choice."
"Of course there is a choice," said Morton; "the island _cannot_ be at
any great distance; and the probability of our being able to find it
again is so much greater than that of making any other land, that we
ought to steer in the direction in which we have good reason to think it
lies--that is, to the east."
"The wind, for the last twelve hours, has been pretty nearly south,"
observed Arthur, "and has probably had some effect upon our position; we
had better, therefore, steer a little south of east, which, with this
breeze, will be easy sailing."
To this all assented, and the sail was hoisted, and the boat's head put
in the direction agreed upon, each of us, except Johnny, sailing and
steering her in turn. There was quite as much wind as our little craft
could sail with to advantage, and without danger. As it filled her bit
of canvass, she careered before it, leaping and plunging from wave to
wave, in a manner that sometimes seemed perilous. The bright sky above
us, the blue sea gleaming in the light of morning, over which we sped;
the dry, clear atmosphere, (now that the sun was up, and the mist
dissipated), the fresh breeze, without which we must have suffered
intensely from the heat; together with our rapid and bounding motion,
had an exhilarating effect, in spite of the gloomy anticipations that
suggested themselves.
"After all," said Max, "why need we take such a dismal view of the
matter? We have a fine staunch little boat, a good breeze, and islands
all around us. Besides, we are in the very track of the beche de mer,
and sandal-wood traders. It would be strange indeed, if we should fail
to meet some of them soon. In fact, if it were not for thinking of poor
Frazer, and of the horrible events of yesterday, (which, to be sure, are
enough to make one sad), I should be disposed to look upon the whole
affair; as a sort of holiday adventure--something to tell of when we get
home, and to talk over pleasantly together twenty years hence."
"If we had a breaker of water, and a keg of biscuit," said Morton, "and
could then be assured of fair weather for a week, I might be able to
take that view of it; as it is, I confess, that to me, it has any thing
but the aspect of a holiday adventure."
When Johnny awoke, Arthur endeavoured to soothe his alarm, by explaining
to him that we had strong hopes of being able to reach the island again,
and mentioning the various circumstances which rendered such a hope
reasonable. The little fellow, did not, however, seem to be as much
troubled as might have been expected. He either reposed implicit
confidence in the resources, or the fortunes, of his companions, or
else, did not at all realise the perils to which we were exposed. But
this could not last long.
That which I knew Arthur had been painfully anticipating, came at last.
Johnny, who had been asking Morton a multitude of questions as to the
events of the previous day, suddenly said that he was very thirsty, and
asked in the most unsuspecting manner for a drink of water. When he
learned that the breaker was empty, and that we had not so much as a
drop of water with us, some notion of our actual situation seemed to
dawn upon him, and he became, all at once, grave and silent.
Hour after hour dragged slowly on, until the sun was in the zenith, with
no change for the better in our affairs. It was now clear that we must
give up the hope of reaching the island which we had left, for it was
certain that we had sailed farther since morning than the boat could
possibly have been drifted during the night, by the wind, or the
current, or both combined. Our calculations at the outset must
therefore have been erroneous, and we had not been sailing in the right
direction. If so, it was too late to correct the mistake; we could not
regain our starting-point, in order to steer from it another course. We
now held a second consultation.
Although we had but a general notion of our geographical position, we
knew that we were in the neighbourhood of scattered groups of low coral
islands. From the Kingsmills we were to have sailed directly for
Canton, and Max, Morton, and myself, would, before now, in all
probability, have commenced our employment in the American factory
there, but for Captain Erskine's sudden resolution to take the
responsibility of returning to the Samoan Group, with the double object
of rescuing the crew of the wrecked barque, and completing his cargo,
which, according to the information received from the master of the
whaler, there would be no difficulty in doing. From Upolu, we had
steered a north-westerly course, and it was on the fourth or fifth day
after leaving it, that we had reached the island where the mutiny took
place, and which Mr Erskine claimed as a discovery of his own. Its
latitude and longitude had of course been calculated, but none of us
learned the result, or at any rate remembered it. We knew only, that we
were at no great distance from the Kingsmills, and probably to the
south-west of them.
Arthur was confident, from conversations had with Mr Frazer, and from
the impressions left on his mind by his last examination of the charts,
that an extensive cluster of low islands, scattered over several degrees
of latitude, lay just to the south-east of us.
It was accordingly determined to continue our present course as long as
the wind should permit, which there was reason to fear might be but a
short time, as easterly winds are the prevailing ones within the
tropics, as near the line as we supposed ourselves to be.
CHAPTER SIX.
THE CALM.
THE SECOND WATCH--AN EVIL OMEN--THE WHITE SHARK--A BREAKFAST LOST.
"All in a hot and copper sky,
The bloody sun, at noon,
Right up above the mast did stand,
No bigger than the moon."
During the remainder of the day the wind continued fair, and we held on
our course, steering by the sun, and keeping a vigilant look-out in
every direction. But the night set in, and we had yet seen no
appearance of land, no speck in the distance which could be mistaken for
a sail, not even a wandering sea-bird or a school of flying-fish--
nothing to break the dead monotony of the briny waste we were
traversing. As I sat at the helm, taking my turn in sailing the boat,
and watched the sun go down, and saw the darkness gathering over the
sea, a feeling nearly akin to despair took possession of me. In vain I
strove to take an encouraging and hopeful view of our circumstances.
The time within which relief must come, in order to be effectual, was so
short, that I could not help feeling that the probabilities were
strongly against us. I could not shut my eyes to the fact, that
dangers, imminent and real, such as we had read and talked of, without
ever half realising or dreaming that they could one day fall to our own
lot, now pressed upon us, and threatened us close at hand. I knew that
those fearful tales of shipwreck and starvation, were only too true--
that men, lost at sea like ourselves, had pined day after day, without a
morsel of food or a drop of water, until they had escaped, in stupor or
delirium, all consciousness of suffering. And worse even than this--too
horrible to be thought or spoken of--I knew something of the dreadful
and disgusting expedients to prolong life, which have sometimes been
resorted to by famishing wretches. I had read how the pangs of hunger,
and the still fiercer torments of thirst, had seemed to work a dire
change even in kind and generous natures, making men wolfish, so that
they slew and fed upon each other. Now, all that was most revolting and
inhuman, in what I had heard or read of such things, rose vividly before
me, and I shuddered at the growing probability that experiences like
these might be reserved for us. "Why not for us," I thought, "as well
as for the many others, the records of whose terrible fate I have
perused with scarcely more emotion than would be excited by a tale of
imaginary suffering; and the still greater number whose story has never
been recorded? We have already been conducted many steps on this
fearful path, and no laws of nature will be stayed, no ordinary rules of
God's dealing violated, on our behalf. No inevitable necessity requires
the complexion of our future, to correspond and harmonise with that of
our past lives. This feeling, which seems to assure me that such things
cannot happen to us, is but one of the cheats and illusions of a
shrinking and self-pitying spirit. All the memories that cluster about
a happy childhood, all the sweet associations of home and kindred,
afford no guarantee against the new and bitter experiences which seem
about to open up upon us."
Such were the thoughts that began to disquiet my own mind. As to my
companions, Morton seemed less anxious and excited than any of the
others. During the evening he speculated in a cool matter-of-fact
manner, upon our chances of reaching an island, or meeting a ship,
before being reduced to the last extremity. He spoke of the number of
traders that frequent the islands, for tortoise-shell, mother-of-pearl,
sandal-wood, beche de mer, etcetera; the whalers that come in pursuit of
the cachelot, or sperm-whale; the vessels that resort there for fruit,
or supplies of wood and water; the vast number of islands scattered
through these seas; from all which he finally concluded, that the
chances were largely in our favour. If, however, we should fail of
immediate relief in this shape, he thought it probable that we should
have opportunities of catching fish, or sea-birds, and so prolonging
life for many days. He talked the whole matter over in such a calm,
sober, unexcited manner, furnishing facts and reasons for every opinion,
that I felt some confidence in his conclusions.
Browne, though quite composed and self-possessed, had, from the moment
when he discovered that we were out of sight of land, taken the most
serious view of our situation. He seemed to have made up his mind for
the worst, and was abstracted, and indisposed to converse. I knew that
the anxiety which Arthur evinced, was not mainly on his own account. It
did not withdraw his attention from what was passing, or diminish his
interest in it. Far from being gloomy or abstracted, he was active and
watchful, and spoke with heartiness and cheerfulness. His mental
disquietude only appeared, in a certain softness and tremor of his
voice, especially when speaking to Johnny, who, as the night drew on,
asked him over and over again, at short intervals, "Don't you think,
Arthur, that we shall certainly find land to-morrow?" This was truly
distressing.
As to Max, his feelings rose and fell capriciously, and without any
apparent cause; he was sanguine or depressed, not from a consideration
of all our circumstances, and a favourable or unfavourable conclusion
drawn therefrom; but according as this view or that, for the moment,
impressed his mind. He rendered no reasons for his hopes or his fears.
At one moment, you would judge from his manner and conversation that we
were indeed out upon some "holy day excursion," with no serious danger
impending over us; the next, without any thing to account for the
change, he would appear miserably depressed and wretched.
Soon after sunset the moon rose--pale and dim at first, but shining out
with a clearer and brighter radiance, as the darkness increased. The
wind held steadily from the same quarter, and it was determined to
continue through the night, the arrangement for taking charge of the
sailing of the boat, in turn. Browne and Max insisted on sharing
between themselves the watch for the entire night, saying that they had
taken no part in that of the one previous, and that it would be useless
to divide the twelve hours of darkness into more than two watches. This
was finally agreed upon, the wind being so moderate that the same person
could steer the yawl and manage the sail without difficulty.
Before lying down, I requested Max, who took the first turn, to awake me
at the same time with Browne, a part of whose watch I intended to share.
I fell asleep, looking up at the moon, and the light clouds sailing
across the sky, and listening to the motion of the water beneath the
boat. At first I slumbered lightly, without losing a sort of dreamy
consciousness, so that I heard Max humming over to himself fragments of
tunes, and odd verses of old songs, and even knew when he shifted his
position in the stern, from one side to the other. At length I must
have fallen into a deep sleep: I do not know how long it had lasted, (it
seemed to me but a short time), when I was aroused by an exclamation,
from Max, as I at first supposed; but on sitting up I saw that Browne
was at the helm, while Max was sleeping at my side. On perceiving that
I was awake, Browne, from whom the exclamation had proceeded, pointed to
something in the water, just astern. Following the direction of his
finger with my eye, I saw, just beneath the surface, a large
ghastly-looking white shark, gliding stealthily along, and apparently
following the boat. Browne said that he had first noticed it about half
an hour before, since which time it had steadily followed us,
occasionally making a leisurely circuit round the boat, and then
dropping astern again. A moment ago, having fallen into a doze at the
helm, and awaking with a start, he found himself leaning over the
gunwale, and the shark just at his elbow. This had startled him, and
caused the sudden exclamation by which I had been aroused. I shuddered
at his narrow escape, and I acknowledge that the sight of this hideous
and formidable creature, stealing along in our wake, and manifesting an
intention to keep us company, caused me some uneasy sensations. He swam
with his dorsal fin almost at the surface, and his broad nose scarcely
three feet from the rudder. His colour rendered him distinctly visible.
"What a spectre of a fish it is," said Browne, "with his pallid,
corpse-like skin, and noiseless motion; he has no resemblance to any of
the rest of his kind, that I have ever seen. You know what the sailors
would say, if they should see him dogging us in this way; Old
Crosstrees, or Spot, would shake their heads ominously, and set us down
as a doomed company."
"Aside from any such superstitious notions, he is an unpleasant and
dangerous neighbour, and we must be circumspect while he is prowling
about."
"It certainly won't do to doze at the helm," resumed Browne; "I consider
that I have just now had a really narrow escape. I was leaning quite
over the gunwale; a lurch of the boat would have thrown me overboard,
and then there would have been no chance for me."
There would not, in fact, have been the shadow of a chance.
"Even as it was," resumed he, "if this hideous-looking monster had been
as active and vigilant as some of his tribe, it would have fared badly
with me. I have heard of their seizing persons standing on the shore,
where the water was deep enough to let them swim close in; and Spot
tells of a messmate of his, on one of his voyages in a whaler, who was
carried off, while standing entirely out of water, on the carcass of a
whale, which he was assisting in cutting up, as it lay alongside the
ship. The shark threw himself upon the carcass, five or six yards from
where the man was busy;--worked himself slowly along the slippery
surface, until within reach of his victim; knocked him off into the
water, and then sliding off himself, seized and devoured him."
Picking my way carefully among the sleepers, who covered the bottom of
the yawl, I sat down beside Browne in the stern, intending to share the
remainder of his watch. It was now long past midnight; fragments of
light clouds were scattered over the sky, frequently obscuring the moon;
and the few stars that were visible, twinkled faintly with a cold and
distant light. The Southern Cross, by far the most brilliant
constellation of that hemisphere, was conspicuous among the clusters of
feebler luminaries. Well has it been called "the glory of the southern
skies." Near the zenith, and second only to the Cross in brilliancy,
appeared the Northern Crown, consisting of seven large stars, so
disposed as to form the outline of two-thirds of an oval. Of the
familiar constellations of the northern hemisphere, scarcely one was
visible, except Orion, and the Pleiades.
At length the moon descended behind a bank of silvery clouds, piled up
along the horizon. The partial obscurity that ensued, only added to the
grandeur of the midnight scene, as we sat gazing silently abroad upon
the confused mass of swelling waters, stretching away into the gloom.
But if the scene was grand, it was also desolate; we two were perhaps
the only human beings, for many hundreds of miles, who looked forth upon
it. Our companions were wrapped in unconsciousness, and their deep and
regular breathing attested the soundness of their slumbers. As the
light failed more and more, and the shadows deepened, the sea began to
assume a beautiful and striking appearance, gleaming in places with a
bluish lambent light, and exhibiting, where the water was most agitated,
large luminous patches. Thin waves of flame curled over our bow, and
whenever a sea broke upon it, it seemed as though the boat was plunging
through surges of fire. A long brilliant line, thickly strewn on each
side, with little globules of the colour of burning coals, marked our
wake.
But the shark, which still followed close behind our keel, presented by
far the most singular and striking spectacle. He seemed to be
surrounded by a luminous medium; and his nose, his dorsal and side fins,
and his tail, each had attached to them slender jets of phosphoric fire.
Towards morning this brilliant appearance began to fade, and soon
vanished altogether. By this time I found it difficult to keep my eyes
open longer, and leaving Browne to finish his watch alone, I resumed my
place on the ceiling planks, and in spite of the hardness of my bed,
which caused every bone in my body to ache, soon slept soundly. When I
again awoke, it was long after sunrise, and we were lying completely
becalmed. A school of large fish were pursuing their gambols at a short
distance, and Browne was rowing cautiously toward them, while Arthur and
Morton stood prepared to attack them with their cutlasses as soon as we
should get within striking distance. We had got almost among them, and
were just beginning to congratulate ourselves upon their apparent
indifference to our approach, when they all at once scattered in every
direction, with manifest signs of terror. The cause of this sudden
movement was not long concealed; a brace of sharks rose in their very
midst; one was visible but for a moment as he rolled over to seize his
prey; the other, less successful in securing a victim, shot past us,
like an arrow, in pursuit of a large division of the fugitives. Soon
after, both of them were seen playing around the boat. They belonged to
the species known as the tiger shark, and bore no resemblance to our
ghastly visitor of the preceding evening. By the consternation which
their sudden appearance had produced among the lesser fishes, they had
in all probability robbed us of our breakfast. Morton, with his
characteristic enterprise, suggested an attack upon one of them by way
of reprisals; but before any measures for that purpose could be taken,
they disappeared, leaving us with no other resource than to await our
fate with such patience and resignation as we could command. The wind
having entirely failed, there was nothing that we could do to change our
situation--absolutely nothing. This forced inaction, with no occupation
for mind or body, no object of effort, contributed to enhance whatever
was painful in our condition, by leaving us to brood over it. The dead
calm which had fallen upon the sea, seemed all that was necessary to
complete our misery. We were all stiff and sore, from the exceedingly
uncomfortable sleeping accommodations of the last two nights; but this
was a comparatively trifling evil. Johnny had a severe cold, his eyes
were inflamed and bloodshot, and he exhibited also strong symptoms of
fever. Nevertheless, silent and uncomplaining, he came and sat down
quietly by the side of Arthur in the stern.
As the day advanced, the heat became dreadful. We had not suffered much
from it the day before, on account of the fresh breeze which had
prevailed; but now, not a breath of air was stirring, and the glassy sea
reflected back upon us the scorching rays of the sun, with increased
intensity. Towards noon, it exceeded any thing I had ever experienced.
The whole arch of the heavens glowed with a hot and coppery glare. It
seemed as though instead of one sun, there were ten thousand, covering
all the sky, and blending their rays into a broad canopy of fire. The
air was like that of an oven: the water had no coolness, no refreshing
quality; it was tepid and stagnant: no living thing was to be seen near
the surface, for life could not be sustained there; and the fishes,
great and small, kept themselves in the cooler depths, far below.
Almost stifled by the heat, we began to experience the first real and
extreme suffering that most of us had ever known. At Arthur's
suggestion, we disengaged the now useless sail from the mast, and
contrived a kind of awning, by fastening two of the oars upright in the
boat, with the mast extending between them, throwing the sail over the
latter, and securing the ends to the gunwales. This, although it could
not protect us from the sultry and suffocating air, warded off the
blistering beams of the sun, and during the greater part of the day, we
lay crouched beneath it, a miserable company; one or another of us
crawling out occasionally, to take a survey. Towards the close of the
afternoon, my sufferings from thirst grew absolutely intolerable, and
amounted to torment. My blood became fevered; my brain seemed on fire;
my shrunk and shrivelled tongue, was like a dry stick in my mouth. The
countenances of my companions, their bloodshot eyes, and cracked and
swollen lips, shewed what they were undergoing. Johnny lay in the
bottom of the boat with his eyes shut enduring all, with as much
fortitude as the rest of us, except that now and then a half suppressed
moan escaped him.
It was quite clear that relief, in order to be of any avail, must be
speedy.
CHAPTER SEVEN.
A CHANGE.
A WELCOME PERIL--THE ALBATROSS AND THEIR PREY--A TROPICAL THUNDER-STORM.
"Eternal Providence, exceeding thought,
Where none appears, can make itself a way."