"Right you are, chap! And what's that by the edge of the broken water?
Wessel, I fancy."
"'Tis a barque, skipper, and he's got 'em flyin'."
The two men watched the vessel a long time, and they determined to run
down on her as near as might be safe. As they drew on her it appeared
that she was not actually hard-and-fast, but she was bumping apparently,
and they guessed she had her anchors out. There is nothing in the way of
close shaves that a smacksman will not venture, and the Esperanza was
soon within speaking distance.
"We have a pilot aboard!" sang out someone on deck.
"A lightning sort of pilot to ram her nose on the Galloper!" growled the
old skipper. "Do you want any assistance?"
"Stand by for a bit and we'll see."
So the Esperanza went to leeward of the shoal and hove-to. Presently the
stranger signalled, "Come on board of us."
Then Joe said, "That fellow's in a frap before his time, skipper. I
believe she'll come off when the tide turns. If she does, and we have
her in charge, that's a nice lump of money for all of us."
"But how are we going to get to him?"
"I'll go," said Joe. "Give me old Bill, and we'll take the boat down on
him. You get the trawl warp ready, and we'll either tow him or steer
him."
"Right, chap; over with your boat, lads!"
Then Bill lay down in the boat, Joe put an oar in the sculling-notch,
and the little thing flew before wind and sea, while the smack drew off
a little. Presently the bulge of the boat's bow glanced along the ship's
side, and Joe flung his painter. Then a man clambered on to the rail,
and Joe roared, "Where are you coming to?"
"I'm the pilot, and I'm coming aboard of you."
"That you're not, you blasted coward! Stay where you are, and we'll see
if we can't save the wessel."
But the pilot had lost his head. He got ready for a jump; the boat
lifted, and he sprang; the backwash pushed her out, and the man's left
foot only just touched the gunwale. He screamed like a woman, gripped
vainly at the air, and rolled under. A sea drove his head against the
ship's side; the boat swung with tremendous force. Scraunch! and the
poor fellow was gone, with his head crushed like a walnut. Joe tried to
grab him with the boathook, but it was useless, and the unhappy
poltroon's body was whirled away.
"Here's a nice go for a start! Up with you, Billy!"
Then the two fishermen gained the deck, and found not a soul to meet
them. "Where the devil are they all?" Joe ran forward, and went below.
In the dim light he could see little, but he heard a sound as of men
moaning, and as his sight became accustomed to the dusk he saw several
swarthy fellows kneeling. They were kissing their crucifixes and making
a woeful noise. Joe yelled, "Where's your skipper?" but no one heeded
him, and the moaning prayers went on. With a curse Joe rushed aft. On
his way he saw the sounding rod, and he shouted, "See how much she's got
in her, Bill. There's a set of mounseers forrad there, no more good than
kittens."
Then the mate entered the after-cabin, and found a man on the floor.
"What cheer, O, what cheer! Tumble up, my daisy!"
The man glared glassily, and muttered, "I speak him Ingleese very
good."
"Never mind your Ingleese; come on, and make your fellows help to pump."
The captain rose, reeled, and fell. He was mortal drunk.
"You been do you dam please," he hiccupped; and Joe retired with a
shrug.
It was clear that the English pilot had run a Spanish ship aground, as
nearly as possible, and only the two anchors kept her from going hard
on. The two Englishmen found that the vessel had five feet of water in
her, and, in their plain, matter-of-fact way, they set to work. Ugly
washes were coming over, but they lashed themselves to the pump and set
to work like the indomitable seadogs that they were. They could not make
her suck, but before they were utterly exhausted they reduced the water
much, and then they cast themselves clear and began to prepare for the
tide. They put the fore topsail on her, and then signalled for their own
vessel. With a last effort they got one anchor, but, when Joe proposed
trying the other, poor Billy groaned, "That's a pill enough for me, Joe;
I shall die if we stand to it any more. Slip the other cable, boy." Joe
agreed; the anchor was lost, and the men prepared for the first creak
that would show that the tide was coming. The sea seemed to be fining
off a bit, so they looked round, and found to their horror that the
rudder was gone. She wallowed. "There she goes, Bill. But Lord, what a
job! Tell you, the smack must go under bare poles; we'll make her fast
aft, and she'll steer us."
This was a genuine seamanlike idea, for, of course, the drag of the
smack would steady the barque, and the two vessels could crawl along
with some approach to surety. Another roll and groaning of timbers, then
came a lull and a flaw of wind; the topsail pulled, and, with a long
grind, the barque rolled off into deep water.
"Hooray! Let her drift as she likes till the skipper gets to us."
Bill jumped into the boat and guided her down wind to the Esperanza. The
smack came close round, another hand joined Bill, and in half an hour a
couple of warps were made fast to the Spaniard, and the two vessels went
on in procession. They could not do so much as a knot per hour, but, at
all events, they were drawing into open water, and the smack steered the
barque quite true.
It was a pity that a second hand did not remain with Joe, but no one
foresaw what would happen. The good mate went below forward, and found
the men worse than ever from drink, panic, and religion. He tried all he
knew to fetch them on deck, but nothing would serve. He tried the
captain, but that worthy seaman was sleeping like a hog, and the cognac
was running in slavers from his mouth.
"Shouldn't wonder if he has 'em on when he starts on the beer again,"
muttered Joe. He saw a large sheath-knife, and secured that in his own
belt; then he took a mouthful of wine, and went to his post.
There was plenty of sea, but the prize was far too valuable to be left,
and Glenn determined to make a bold bid for fortune. Not a single vessel
passed them all night, and they were lonely at dawn next day. The
sailors crept up one by one, but they only gathered in a jabbering knot,
and scowled at the Englishman heavily. Joe made signs for them to
turn-to at the pumps, but they scowled still more. Then he signed that
he wanted something to eat, but the fellows only looked venomous, and
poor Joe groaned, "To-morrow's Christmas Day, and no tommy to eat--let
be the pudden!"
It was indeed heartrending; but the skipper was a thoughtful man, and
when he found that his mate was famine-struck, he risked swamping the
boat, and sent some beef and biscuit. The shameless Spaniards had plenty
below, but they were enraged for some reason or other, and they would
have let their deliverer hunger himself to the bone.
That evening, while Joe was easing the warps by shoving pieces of coir
where the bite came, he felt a grip on his neck. Like a flash he
thought, "Now, the knife." He wrenched himself round, and there was the
Spanish captain, glaring, trembling, and breathing hard.
"See, see! You been help, Ingleese!" and he pointed to the dusk as he
shrieked.
Joe saw at once that the man was wild with drink, and he put on a smile,
with a notion of coaxing the captain over. In a little while he managed
to get him below, and, foolishly, filled him some more cognac. Joe
thought it best to stupefy the fellow, and the brandy certainly did send
him to sleep.
That was a bad night, for the wind rose again, and such a sea ran that
Glenn gave up hope at midnight, and got ready for the worst. At the dawn
of Christmas Day the skipper offered to relieve him, but the risk would
have been too much, and the dogged East Coaster stuck to his work,
though he was aching, drenched, and so sleepy that he did not know how
to keep his eyes open.
A queer Christmas? Yes, but not much more queer than the Christmas
passed by thousands of good fellows on that treacherous great channel.
The warps both parted with an awful jerk at noon, just as Joe was about
to drink a dismal health to Sal with some of the captain's cognac. He
took a look round, and, though I cannot say that his courage went, I am
bound to tell you that a kind of ferocious despair seized on him when he
found the bargue yawing away from the Esperanza. She might broach-to any
time, and then all would be over. Poor Joe! Not a soul was there to
comfort him. The Spanish sluggards came up sometimes and scowled, then
they went below again. It was cruel work. The skipper of the Esperanza
made desperate efforts to get up, but dusk fell before he came near,
and then it was too late to try anything especially as the barque was
going yard-arm under. Dark fell, and Joe heard moaning and gibbering
once more. The captain was creeping along the deck, "saying something
about Madd-ray," as Joe put it. "It was him as was mad," the smacksman
said, with an attempt at humour. "He made a try to stick me, and I felt
something sting my arm like a pin going in."
That was true. The maddened drunkard made a staggering attempt to stab
Glenn, and then, with a yell, he poised on the rail and jumped into the
sea.
That was really about enough for one Christmas Day, and Joe's nerve was
all gone.
The cold seemed to grip his blood, for he had taken little good
nourishment; the vessel was helpless, and there was no shelter from the
flying rivers of water that came over. Joe felt that strange, hard pain
across the brows that seizes a man who has been long sleepless, and he
could have dozed off had it not been for the continual breaking of the
seas. He saw the Esperanza's lights, and he wished that the boat could
have been sent, if it were only to give him a little company. The
rolling of the barque was awful at two in the morning, and, at last, one
violent kick parted the mizen rigging on the starboard side. Then came
one vast roll, and a ponderous rush of water, and with a tearing crash,
the mast went over the side.
Joe edged his way forward, and once more spoke to the gang in the
forecastle. By dint of signs he made them understand that he wanted a
hatchet, and he also contrived to let them know that they must go down
unless the port rigging was severed. For a wonder he got what he wanted,
and he laboured until his elbows were numbed before the bumping, rolling
mast was clear.
Four hours till daylight, and wind and sea getting worse. Something must
be done, or the strained ship would go for a certainty; it only wanted
one unlucky sea to settle her. But what could one man do? If two of the
sodden ruffians forrad would only come up, then something might be done;
but one tired sailor was of little use. Glenn resolved to make one more
appeal to the Spaniards, for he had a bright plan in his head, and he
needed no more than the aid of two men to carry it out. A spare mainyard
was lashed out on deck, and Joe had noticed it with the seaman's quick
eye when he came on board. If he could only get hold of a spare topsail
he could save the vessel, and he was ready to go on his knees to the men
if they would show him a sail locker. After imploring, cursing
threatening, for five minutes, Joe at last got the mate to lug out a
sail; then he persuaded a lad who was more sober than the rest to come
on deck with a lantern. Now, it will be noticed that foreign seamen in
general are dreadfully afraid of taking to the boat. During this present
winter our fellows have saved four or five foreign crews, and in every
case the vessels had their own boats undamaged, but the men dursn't risk
the trip themselves, so our fishermen had to peril their lives. The
Spaniard's boat was lashed so that no mortal could get her clear, and
the little craft was used as a sort of lumber-closet. Glenn had noticed
some steel rails in the boat, and he guessed that these specimens of
railway plant were accidentally left out until the hatches had been
battened down.
He thanked God for the negligence.
Working with desperate speed, he rudely bent the spare sail to the spar;
then to the lower cloth of the sail he managed to fix two of the weighty
rails, and then commenced to lug the yard past the vessel's foremast. It
takes a long time to tell all this, but Joe was not long, though every
movement was made at the risk of his life. He hacked away two lengths of
rope measuring each about eighty feet; he made these into bridles,
knotting one end of each piece to the end of the spar, and taking the
other ends round the timber-heads. Two pieces of thin rope, hauled out
of the hamper aft, were made fast to the ends of the steel rails, and
then Joe made a frantic effort to get his apparatus over the side. No
good; he must humiliate himself again before those unspeakable aliens.
Drenched, agonised for lack of sleep, weak with exertion, and bleeding
from the hustling blows that he had received, the poor soul besought the
men to lend him a hand, and swore to save them. They understood him fast
enough, and one peculiarly drunken individual blundered up and obeyed
Glenn's signs. With a violent effort the spar was hoisted and dropped;
the steel rails sank, and there was an apparatus like an enormous
window-blind hanging in the water. The barque soon felt the pull of this
novel anchor; she swung round, with her head to the sea, and to Joe's
passionate delight she rode more softly, for the big spar broke every
sea, and very little water came on board afterwards. The vessel was
securely moored, for she could not drag that great expanse of canvas
through the seas.
When the grey light rose, there was quite plenty of sea, but the barque
was all right, and so was Joe, for he had coolly gone below, and he fell
asleep, with a thankful heart, on the cabin bench. The ship was quiet as
a cradle, and the smack's boat got up to her easily. The warps were made
fast again, and the two vessels once more went away in procession.
This time Joe had English company, and the two men had a good time until
the tug picked them up off Lowestoft. Joe Glenn had not changed a stitch
for eleven days, but he did not mind the discomfort the lump of salvage
made up for much pain and striving.
Joe bought a good cottage with his share, and he was satisfied; but I
quite agreed with him when he said that his money was hard earned. No
man ever spent a much queerer Christmas.