middle, as I suppose, of that terrible afternoon, I all at once became
sensible of a perceptible cooling of the atmosphere, and a sudden
decrease of light. Looking out to discover the cause of this change, I
perceived that the sky was overcast, and that a light, unsteady breeze
from the north-west had sprung up. Knowing that within the tropics, and
near the line, winds from that quarter frequently precede a storm, and
that great extremes of heat are often succeeded by violent gales, I
observed, with apprehension, dark masses of clouds gathering in the
north. It would not require a tempest to insure our destruction; for
our little craft could not live a moment, even in such a gale as would
be attended by no danger to a staunch ship with plenty of sea room.
The temperature had fallen many degrees, though the wind was still
moderate and unsteady, ranging from west to north-east. The sun was
completely obscured, so that the awning was no longer needed, and we
pulled it down, in order the more fully to enjoy the breeze, and the
delicious coolness of the darkened atmosphere, to the gratefulness of
which, not even our awakening apprehensions could render us insensible.
While observing the strange appearance of the sky, and like preparations
for a storm which seemed to be going on in the north and west, Morton
espied a troop of Flying-fish a hundred yards or so to windward.
Fluttering feebly a short distance in the air, they would drop into the
sea, soon emerging, however, for a fresh flight; thus, alternately
swimming and flying, they were steadily approaching; and from their
rapid and confused motions, it was evident that they were hard pressed
by some of the numerous and greedy persecutors of their helpless race;
from whom they were struggling to escape. Presently, a glittering
Albatross shot from the water, close in the tract of the fugitives,
descending again in the graceful curve peculiar to his active and
beautiful, but rapacious tribe. Another and another followed, their
golden scales flashing in the light, as they leaped clear of the water,
sometimes two or three together. We hastily made ready to attack both
pursuers and pursued, the instant they should come within reach. The
course of the chase brought them directly towards us, until the hunted
fishes fell in a glittering shower, so near, that I feared they might
pass under the boat before rising again; but they came to the surface
close beside us, and as they fluttered into the air, we knocked down six
or seven of them, and caught a number more, that dropped into the boat.
Morton and Max, ambitious of larger game, devoted their attention to the
Albatross, and slashed and thrust furiously, at such as came within
reach of their cutlasses; which many of them did. Some darted under the
boat, instead of sheering round it; and one enormous fellow,
miscalculating in his haste our draught of water, must have scraped all
the fins off his back against the keel, as he performed this manoeuvre;
for the shock of the contact, caused the yawl to tremble from stem to
stern. But such was the marvellous celerity of their movements, that
though they came within easy striking distance, all the hostile
demonstrations of Max and Morton proved futile.
The Flying-fish which had been taken, were divided and apportioned with
scrupulous exactness, and devoured with very little ceremony. The only
dressing or preparation bestowed upon them, consisted simply in
stripping off the long shining pectoral fins, or wings, (they serve as
both), without paying much attention to such trifling matters as scales,
bones, and the lesser fins. Max, indeed, began to nibble rather
fastidiously at first, at this raw food, which a minute before had been
so full of life and activity; but his appetite improved as he proceeded,
and he at last so far got the better of his scruples, as to leave
nothing of his share except the tails, and very little even of those.
Hunger, in fact, made this repast, which would have been revolting under
ordinary circumstances, not only acceptable, but positively delicious.
Meantime, the dark mass of clouds in the north had extended itself, and
drawn nearer to us. Another tempest seemed to be gathering in the west,
while in the south, a violent thunder-storm appeared to be actually
raging: the lightning in that quarter was vivid and almost incessant,
but we could hear no thunder, the storm being still at a considerable
distance.
Immediately around us all was yet comparatively calm, but the heavy
clouds, gathering on three sides, seemed gradually converging towards a
common centre; a short abrupt cross sea, began to form, and the water
assumed a glistening inky hue. There was something peculiar and
striking in the appearance of the clouds surrounding us; they seemed to
rest upon the surface of the ocean, and towered upward like a dark wall
to the skies. Their upper extremities were torn and irregular, and long
narrow fragments, like giant arms, streamed out from the main body, and
extended over us, as if beckoning each other to a nearer approach, and
threatening to unite their gloomy array overhead, and shut out the light
of day. As they drew nearer to one another, the lightning began to dart
from cloud to cloud, while the most terrific peals of thunder that I
have ever heard, rolled and reverberated on every side. We appeared to
be surrounded by storms, some of which were very near, for the deep
crash of the thunder, followed close upon the vivid lightnings that
flashed in the south and west. Still the narrow space of sky directly
overhead was clear, and the war of elements which was raging all around
did not extend to our immediate neighbourhood. Against the dark sides
of the cloudy pavilion that encompassed us, the sharp, zigzag lines of
lightning, as they ran from the sky to the ocean, shone out with a
blinding glare. A single half-hour had sufficed to change every thing
about us. The brazen, burning sky, was transformed into a cold, clear
expanse, of a bluish black. The sea, no longer stagnant and glassy, was
fretted by short inky waves, with creamy crests, that gave it altogether
a new aspect. The air was now fresh and cool, and the wind rising and
falling fitfully, at one moment scarcely lifted our hair or stirred our
garments, and the next, tore off the entire crests of waves, and
scattered them over us in a shower of spray. For nearly an hour we
remained apprehensive that the wind might increase to a gale. At the
end of about that time, it came gradually round to the south-east,
growing steady, but by no means violent, and the storms moved off in a
westerly direction. One heavy cloud, as it slowly passed over toward
that quarter, discharged a grateful shower of rain. We hastily spread
the sail, and some of our garments, to gather the precious drops. The
shower lasted only a few minutes, but during that time it rained
briskly. I never shall forget my sensations as I stood with face
upturned, while the big drops, more delicious than ambrosia, came
pelting down. It was far better and more strengthening than food, or
any medicine or cordial could have been, and seemed to infuse fresh life
into us all. When it was over, we wrung out from the saturated canvass,
and from our clothing, water enough to mitigate for the time, though by
no means to satisfy, the raging thirst from which we had suffered so
intensely.
Arthur had at first taken out of the locker the large bottle which had
been found there, in the hope of being able to hoard up a small supply
for the future; but there was not a drop of surplus for such a purpose,
and he was obliged to put it back again empty as before.
CHAPTER EIGHT.
TOKENS OF LAND.
THE CENTRE OF THE SPHERE--THE MYSTERIOUS SOUND--THE CONFLAGRATION.
"Thou glorious sea! before me gleaming,
Oft wilt thou float in sunset pride,
And often shall I hear in dreaming,
Thy resonance at evening tide!"
At sunset every trace of the storms by which we had been so recently
encompassed had vanished: the sky, except along the western horizon, was
without a cloud: not a breath of wind ruffled the sea, and we lay once
more completely becalmed.
This was our third night at sea; though to me, at least, it seemed that
many days had passed since the mutiny and the immediately succeeding
occurrences. It is a night which I shall not soon forget; the
impression of its almost unearthly beauty is still fresh and vivid, and
haunts me like a vision of fairy land. At this moment if I but close my
eyes, the whole scene rises before me with the distinctness of a
picture; though one would naturally suppose that persons situated as we
then were, could scarcely have been in a state of mind congenial to the
reception of such impressions.
The transition from early twilight to the darkness of night was
beautiful beyond description. The array of clouds in the west just
after sunset; their forms, arrangement, and colours; with the manner in
which they blended and melted into one another, composed a spectacle, of
the magnificence of which, neither language, nor the art of the painter,
can convey any adequate idea. Along the edge of the horizon stretched a
broad tract of the deepest crimson, reflecting far upon the waters, a
light that gave them the appearance of an ocean of blood. Above this
was a band of vivid flame colour: then one of a clear translucent green,
perfectly peculiar, unlike that of any leaf or gem, and of surpassing
delicacy and beauty. This gradually melted, through many fine
gradations, into a sea of liquid amber, so soft and golden, that the
first large stars of evening, floating in its transparent depths, could
scarcely be distinguished, as they twinkled mildly, amid the flood of
kindred radiance. A narrow streak of pearly blue bounded this amber sea
with its islands of light, and divided it from the deeper blue of the
wide vault above. During the earlier part of this glorious display, the
eastern sky, as if in rivalry of the splendour of the opposite quarter
of the heavens, was spanned by two concentric rainbows, describing
complete semi-circles, with their bases resting upon the sea. In the
smaller and interior bow, all the colours were beautifully distinct; in
the outer and larger one, they were less brilliant, and arranged in an
order the reverse of that which is usual, the violet being the lowest
instead of the red. The rainbows vanished with the sun, and soon
afterwards the fiery glow in the west began to fade. But the scene only
changed its character, without losing any of its beauty. So smooth was
the sea on that night that the whole dome of the sky, with every sailing
cloudflake, and every star, was perfectly reflected in it. Until the
moon rose, the line where the sky joined the ocean was indistinctly
defined, and the two were so blended together, that we actually seemed
suspended in the centre of a vast sphere; the heavens, instead of
terminating at the horizon, extended, spangled with stars, on every
side--below, as well as above, and around. The illusion was wonderfully
perfect; you almost held your breath as you glanced downward, and could
hardly refrain from starting nervously, so strong and bewildering was
the appearance of hanging poised in empty space.
Johnny, who had been sitting for a long time with his hands supporting
his head, and his elbows resting upon Arthur's knee, gazing out upon the
ocean, suddenly looked up into his face, and said--
"Arthur, I want you to tell me truly--do you still believe that we shall
be saved--do you hope so now, as you did yesterday, or do you think that
we must perish!"
"Do you suppose that I would try to deceive you, Johnny," said Arthur,
"that you ask me so earnestly to tell you truly?"
"No, but I feared you would not, perhaps, tell me the worst, thinking
that I could not bear it: and I suspected to-night, that you spoke more
cheerfully than you felt on my account. But I am not afraid, dear
Arthur, to know the truth; and do not hide it from me! I will try to
bear patiently, with you, and with the rest whatever comes upon us."
"I would not deceive you about such a matter, Johnny. I should not
think it right, though you are so young. But I can know nothing
certainly. We are in the hands of God. I have told you all the reasons
we have to hope; we have the same reasons still. Only a few hours ago,
the sea supplied us with food, and the clouds with drink: why may we not
hope for future supplies according to our need? I think we yet have
more reason to hope than to despair."
"Did you ever know, or hear of such a thing," inquired Johnny, after a
pause, "as a company of boys, like us, starving at sea?"
"I do not remember that I have, under circumstances at all similar to
ours," answered Arthur.
"It is too dreadful to believe! Is not God, our Father in heaven? He
will not surely let us perish so miserably."
"_Yes_, Johnny," said Arthur gently, but earnestly, "God is our heavenly
Father; but we must not make our belief in his love and goodness, a
ground of confidence that any suffering, however terrible, shall not
befall us. The young suffer and die, as well as the old; the good, as
well as the bad. Not only the strong martyrs, who triumphed while they
were tortured, but feeble old men, and little children, have been torn
in pieces by wild beasts, or burned alive, or cast down precipices. And
these things, that seemed so very hard to us, God has permitted. Yet he
is good, and loves and cares for us as a father. This we must believe,
and hold fast to, in spite of every thing that in our ignorance may seem
to contradict it. If we feel as we ought, and as by his grace we may,
we shall be able to trust all to him, with sweet resignation."
"But is it not very hard, dear Arthur, to be left to die so!--and God
can save us so easily, if he will."
Arthur was deeply affected: the tears filled his eyes as he took Johnny
upon his knee, and tried to explain to him how wrong and selfish it
would be, to make our belief in the goodness of God, depend upon our
rescue and preservation. It was a difficult task, perhaps an untimely
one, as Max hinted. But Johnny gradually sobbed away his excitement,
and became soothed and calm.
"Well," said he, after a while, drawing a long breath, and wiping away
his tears, "I know one thing: whatever may happen, we will be kind and
true to one another to the last, and never think of such inhuman things
as I have read of shipwrecked people doing, when nearly dead with
hunger, though we all starve together."
"Come to me, Johnny," cried Browne, with a faltering voice, "I must kiss
you for those words. Yes, we will perish, if we must, like brothers,
not sullenly, as if none had ever suffered evil before us. Weak and
gentle spirits have borne without repining, sufferings as great as
threaten us. Often has my mother told me the story of sweet Marjory
Wilson, drowned in the Solway water, in the days of Claverhouse, because
she met with her friends and kindred to worship God after their manner--
and never could I listen to it without tears. Ah, what a spirit was
there! She was but eighteen, and she could have saved her life by
saying a few words. Life was as sweet to her as it is to us: she too
had a home and friends and kindred, whom it must have been hard for the
poor young thing to leave so suddenly and awfully. And yet she refused
to speak those words--she chose to die rather. They took her out upon
the sand where the tide was rising fast, and bound her to a stake. Soon
the water came up to her face. She saw it go over the head of a poor
old woman, whom they had tied farther out than herself. She saw her
death struggles; she heard her gasp for breath, as she choked and
strangled in the yellow waves. Ah! she must have had courage from the
Lord, or that sight would have made her young heart fail. Once more,
and for the last time, the king's officer asked her to make the promise
never to attend a conventicle again. He urged it, for he pitied her
youth and innocence. Her friends and neighbours begged her to save her
life. `O speak, dear Marjory!' they cried, `and make the promise; it
can't be wrong. Do it for our sakes, dear Marjory, and they will let
you go!' But she would not save her life by doing what she had been
taught to think was wrong; and while the swirling waves of the Solway
were rising fast around her, she prayed to God, and kept singing
fragments of psalms, till the water choked her voice--and so she
perished. But, O friends! to know that such things have been; that
spirits gentle and brave as this have lived, makes it easier to suffer
courageously."
"Horrible!" exclaimed Max, "I seem to see all that you have so
graphically told. But how stern and cruel the teachers who would
sacrifice human life rather than abate their own sullen obstinacy, even
in trifles--who could encourage this innocent but misguided girl, in her
refusal to save her life by the harmless promise to attend a church
instead of a conventicle."
Just as Browne was commencing an eager and indignant reply to Max's rash
reflections upon the strictness of covenanting teachings, we were
suddenly startled by a deep and solemn sound, which seemed to come from
a distance. While we listened intently, it was several times repeated
at short intervals of about fifteen seconds, each time more distinctly
than before. It resembled somewhat, the deepest tones of a powerful
organ, heard for an instant, and then abruptly stopped. Nothing was to
be seen in the direction from which it seemed to proceed, but the sea
glittering in the moonlight. Is it to be wondered at, if we listened
with feelings, tinged with superstitious awe, to that strange sound,
heard under such circumstances, and at such an hour? Johnny nestled
closer to Arthur's side, and I thought that the faces of my companions
grew visibly pale. Even Arthur looked perplexed and disturbed.
"What _can_ that be?" said Morton, after a few minutes of almost
breathless silence, during which we had listened in vain for its
repetition.
"It is certainly very strange," said Arthur. "I never heard any thing
at sea, at all like it, but once, and it is impossible that this can be
what I then heard--but hark!" And again the same deep pealing sound was
repeated several times, at shorter intervals, but more faintly than
before; after continuing for a few minutes it ceased again.
"What was the sound which you speak of, as resembling this?" asked
Morton, when all was silent once more.
"It was the cry of a kind of penguin, found at the Falkland Islands;
when heard on shore it is harsh and loud; but a short distance at sea,
and in the night, it has a pealing, solemn sound, like that which we
have just heard."
"It must come from land in the neighbourhood," said Morton, "we can
probably hear farther on such a night as this than we can distinguish
land."
"Yes, sounds on the water, in calm still nights, when there is no wind,
can be heard at great distances," said Arthur; "it is said that the
`All's well!' of the British sentinel at Gibraltar, is sometimes heard
across the strait, on the African shore, a distance of thirteen miles.
I have seen, at the Society Islands, native drums made of large hollow
logs, which might perhaps, at a distance, sound like what we heard a
moment ago. A Wesleyan missionary there, once told me of a great drum
that he saw at the Tonga Islands, called the `Tonga Toki,' which sounded
like an immense gong, and could be heard from seven to ten miles."
"Why, I thought that _this_ sounded like a gong," said Johnny, "perhaps
we are near some island now; but what could they be drumming for so late
in the night?"
"There would be nothing very unusual about that," said Arthur. "The
Areoi Societies, which are extended over most of the larger inhabited
islands in this part of the Pacific, sometimes hold their great
celebrations, like the pow-wows, and war-dances, of our American
Indians, in the night-time. At the Feejee Islands they have a strange
ceremony called `Tambo Nalanga,' which they celebrate at night, with the
beating of drums, the blowing of conches, and a number of savage and
cruel rites. Something or other of the same kind is observed at most of
the islands, though under different names, and with slight variations."
While speculating in this way, and endeavouring to account for the noise
which had startled us so much, we all at once became aware of an
increasing light in the south, the `Cross,' now half-way between the
horizon and the zenith, enabling us to fix the points of the compass.
As we gazed in that direction, the sky became strongly illuminated by a
red glare, and an immense column of flame and smoke was seen shooting up
in the distance. Nothing but the expanse of the ocean, splendidly
illuminated, and glowing like a sea of fire, could be discerned by this
light. Whether it was caused by a burning ship, at such a distance that
nothing but the light of her conflagration was visible, or by a fire on
some distant island, we could not determine. It was in the same quarter
from which the sound had seemed to come.
Arthur was now of the opinion that we were in the neighbourhood of an
inhabited island, or group, and that the light proceeded from the
burning beche-de-mer house of some successful trader, who had set fire
to it, (as is their custom at the end of a prosperous season), to
prevent it from falling into the hands of others in the same business.
We all grasped eagerly at this idea, for the probability that we were
not only in the neighbourhood of land, but of a place where we should
meet with Europeans, and have an opportunity of getting home, or perhaps
to the places of our respective destination, was full of encouragement.
In a very short time the conflagration was over, and a dark column of
smoke, which marked the spot where it had raged, was lifted slowly into
the air. We heard no more of the mysterious sound. None of the
explanations suggested were so perfectly satisfactory, as to remove
entirely the unpleasant impression which it had produced. Before lying
down in our accustomed places, we made our usual arrangements as to the
watch, unnecessary as it seemed, during the calm.
CHAPTER NINE.
DARK WATERS.
SUFFERING AND DELIRIUM--THE MIDNIGHT BATH--A STRANGE PERIL.
"Water, water, everywhere,
And all the boards did shrink;
Water, water, everywhere--
But not a drop to drink."
Several times in the course of the night, I was awakened by confused
noises, like the blowing of porpoises, or the spouting of whales; but
the sky had become overcast, and it had grown so dark, that on getting
up and looking about, I could see nothing of the creatures producing
these sounds. My slumbers were broken and uneasy, and in the morning I
found myself suffering from a dull, heavy pain in the head, accompanied
by a slight nausea, and a general feeling of languor and weakness. Even
to get upon my feet required something of an effort, which I made,
impelled rather by a dim, confused sense of duty, than by any
spontaneous impulse or inclination: had I consulted inclination alone, I
believe I should have remained passive, and let things take their
course.