"Wilson tells me he thinks we are going to have a gale, Bill."
"Ay, ay, Reuben; anyone with half an eye could see that."
"Which way is it likely to come?"
"Most likely from the north or northwest. At least that's the
quarter it's likely to settle into; but there ain't no saying which
way it may take us. I thought things had been going on too smooth
to last. Now you are going to see what a storm is, my lad. You
thought it was blowing when we went down the Channel."
"Is it likely to be much heavier than that, Bill?"
"Heavier!" the sailor repeated scornfully. "Why, there's as much
difference between a capful of wind in the Channel, and a gale off
the Cape, as there is between a newborn baby and me."
"Do they last long, generally?"
"Last! Why they goes on for weeks. There ain't no end to them. I've
wondered sometimes to myself where all the wind comes from, and
where it goes to, onlass it works round and round."
"But it does work round and round, Bill?"
"Ay, when you are near the centre of it. Why, lad, in three hours I
have gone round the compass three times, with the wind dead aft all
the time; but that's only when you are near the centre. When you
ain't it blows straight, and I have known vessels run for days--ay,
for weeks--with the wind blowing all the time in the same quarter.
Some have been blown down right to the edge of the ice, south. I
have been among the icebergs myself, two or three times, and I
guess that many a ship has laid her bones down in the ice fields
there, and no news ever come back home as to what's come to them;
and what makes it worse is as we have convicts on board."
"What difference does that make, Bill?"
"It don't make no difference, as long as all goes straight and
fair. I have heard, in course, of risings; but that's only when
either the guard are very careless, or the men is so bad treated
that they gets desperate, and is ready to die on the off chance of
getting free. So far we ain't had no trouble with them. The ship is
kept liberal, and the poor wretches ain't cheated out of the
rations as government allows them. The officer in charge seems a
good sort, and there's no knocking of them about, needless; so
there ain't no fear of trouble, as long as things go square. But
when things goes wrong, and a vessel gets cast away or anything of
that kind, then there's well-nigh sure to be trouble. The convicts
seize their opportunity, and it ain't scarce in human nature for
them not to take it, and then there ain't no saying what will
happen."
"Why, what a croaker you are, Bill! I didn't expect that from you."
"I ain't no croaker, Reuben, but I knows what I knows. I have been
through a job like that I am telling you of, once; and I don't want
to do it again. I will tell you about it, some day. I ain't saying
as I expect any such thing will happen, on board the Paramatta. God
forbid. She's a tight ship, and she's got as good officers and crew
as ever I sailed with. She has as good a chance as ever a ship had;
but when I sees that 'ere sort of sky in these latitudes, I feels
as we are in for a tough job."
The conversation was broken off, abruptly, by the call of the first
mate.
"All hands aloft to shorten sail!"
"The bells is ringing up for the beginning of the performance,
Reuben. Here goes aloft!"
The next minute the whole of the crew were climbing the shrouds,
for the watch off duty were all on deck, and the order was
expected; for the signs of the weather could, by this time, be read
by every sailor on board. Above, the sky was still bright and blue;
but around the whole circle of the horizon, a mist seemed to hang
like a curtain.
"Smartly, lads, smartly," the captain shouted; "don't hurry over
your work, but do it with a will.
"I hope we have not left it too long, Mr. James. I have held on
longer than I ought, for every mile we get away from land is an
advantage, and we have been running nearly due south, ever since I
noticed the first falling of the glass when we got up in the
morning."
"I think we shall have time, sir," the mate said. "We are going to
have it, and no mistake, presently; but it don't seem to be coming
up fast."
"The glass is going down rapidly," the captain said. "It's down an
inch already, and is still falling.
"Mr. Mason," he went on, to the officer in command of the
detachment of marines, "will you kindly place your men under the
orders of Mr. James? I am going to send down all the upper spars,
and they can be useful on deck."
Never was the Paramatta stripped more rapidly of her sails, for
every man was conscious of the urgency of the work. As soon as the
sails were furled, the yards were sent down. The upper spars
followed them and, in little over half an hour from the time the
men began to ascend the shrouds, the Paramatta was metamorphosed.
Her tall tapering masts and lofty spread of sail were gone. Every
spar above the topmasts had been sent down to the deck; and she lay
under close-reefed topsails, a stay sail, and a storm jib. The
captain gave a sigh of relief, as the men began to descend the
rigging.
"Thank God, that is safely accomplished. Now we are in readiness
for whatever may come."
He dived into his cabin, and returned almost immediately.
"The glass has fallen another half inch, Mr. James," he said
gravely. "I have never but once seen it as low.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he went on, addressing the passengers, who
were gathered in a group, talking in low tones and anxiously
watching the wall of vapour; which now seemed to rise from the
water's edge and reach far up into the sky, the circle of view
extending scarce half a mile in any direction; "I must ask you to
go below, at once. The storm may strike us any moment now, and when
it does come it will come heavily. I should like the deck perfectly
clear, and nothing to disturb my thoughts from the working of the
ship."
Reuben had not gone aloft, as he was called back, just as he began
to ascend the shrouds, by the first mate, and ordered to go round
the cabins and fasten the dead lights securely. When this was done,
he aided the marines in nailing tarpaulins over the cabin
skylights, and then went round the deck, seeing that every movable
article was securely lashed. When this was done he joined Bill who,
with some others, had been at work securing all the hatches. The
convicts had long since been all sent below.
"Shall I send my men down, captain?" Mr. Mason asked.
"There is no occasion for it, just at present; but you had better
pass the word for all of them to hold on, when the gale strikes
her. That will be the critical moment. Once past that, she will be
all right till the sea begins to rise. Then you had best get them
below, for we shall have the water sweeping knee deep along the
waist, in no time.
"I should say send them down at once; but I know many of them have
been to sea before, and may be useful in cutting away, if anything
goes."
"She looks snug enough, captain," the young officer said, glancing
up at the diminished spread of canvas.
"She is snug enough for any ordinary gale," the captain said; "but
this is not going to be an ordinary gale. When we once get her
before it, it will be all right.
"Do you think we have another five minutes, Mr. James?"
"There's no saying, sir; but I should think so. What do you want,
sir?"
"I want that top sail off her, altogether."
"I will do it, sir," the mate said and, calling Bill Hardy and two
others of the best sailors, he led the way up the main shrouds.
Every eye on deck was fixed on the four seamen as, rapidly but
steadily, they proceeded to furl and stow the sail. There was still
not a breath of wind, but a low humming noise was heard.
"Quick, Mr. James, never mind the sail. All hands on deck!" the
captain shouted; but the work was just done, and the sailors ran
quickly down the ratlines on to the deck.
"Thank God!" the captain said reverently, "that is done."
The ship was now under the close-reefed fore-top sail, a diminutive
try sail on the mizzen, and the jib. The hum had increased to a
roar, but still not a breath of wind stirred the sails.
"Look up!" Bill said to Reuben; "you may be at sea fifty years, and
never see that again."
Reuben looked up. Immediately overhead was a small circle of blue
sky, round and round whose edge the edging of cloud seemed to be
circling, with extreme velocity. The light seemed to pierce
straight down onto the vessel, and she stood, pale and white, while
all around her a pitchy blackness seemed to prevail.
"We are in the eye of the storm, my lad. Here it comes. Now, hold
on for your life."
In another moment it seemed to Reuben that the end of all things
was come. He was pinned against the bulwark, as if by a mighty
invisible hand; and the vessel heeled over and over, until the deck
seemed to rise in a wall above him. Then the water poured over him
and, though he still held on, he thought the vessel had capsized.
Then he felt her rising beneath his feet, and his head emerged from
the water.
The captain, the first mate, and two seamen were at the wheel.
Reuben saw the captain wave his hand, but his words were lost in
the fury of the wind. The second mate, Bill Hardy, and two or three
other sailors knew what was required, and hauled upon the lee brace
of the fore-top-sail yard. The Paramatta was still lying nearly
over on her beam ends, but gradually her head began to pay off, and
she slowly righted. A minute later she was tearing directly before
the gale. Scarcely had she done so, when the fore-top sail blew out
of the bolt ropes, with a report that was heard even above the howl
of the tempest.
"It's done its work," Bill shouted in Reuben's ear. "I thought she
was gone. Just a little more, and she would have turned turtle."
The captain had used almost precisely the same words to the first
officer, adding:
"She will do now, but we shall have to try to get a little more
head sail on her, when the sea gets up. Call some of the hands aft,
and get this try sail down. She yaws so, now the fore-top sail's
gone, there is no steering her."
This was soon done and, under bare poles, the storm jib now the
only sail upon her, the Paramatta tore through the water. There was
little motion, for the sea had not begun to get up, seeming to be
pressed flat by the force of the wind. The captain now left the
helm. Two or three of the male passengers were standing at the top
of the companion, peering out.
"You can come out, gentlemen, for a bit. She is running on an even
keel now, though that won't last long. No one hurt below, I hope."
"Two or three of us have got bruised a little, captain; and I think
we have all of us got a severe fright. We thought she was over."
"I thought so, too," the captain said. "Luckily she has got three
hundred tons of iron on board, and it's all stowed at the bottom of
the cargo, so that helped her up again; but it was touch and go
with her, for half a minute.
"And now, gentlemen, if you will take my advice you will just look
round, and then go below and turn in. Now you can do so easily.
Another hour, and there will be no keeping a footing."
The captain was right. In less than the time he named, a terrific
sea had got up. The Paramatta had already made more than one
circuit of the compass. There was no regularity in the sea. It
seemed to rise suddenly in heaps, now striking the ship on one
side, now on another, and pouring sheets of water over her
bulwarks. The motion of the vessel was so tremendous that even Bill
Hardy and the older seamen could only move along with the greatest
difficulty to carry out the orders of the captain; while Reuben
clung to the shrouds, now half buried in water, now almost hanging
in the air, with the sea racing along under his feet.
As yet no more sail had been put upon her, for there was no
following sea. Although running almost before the gale, a slight
helm was kept upon her, so as to edge her out from the centre of
the storm; and the second circle of the compass took more than
twice as long as the first to complete, although the vessel was
proceeding with equal speed through the water.
Hour after hour the sea got up--a wild, cross, broken sea--and the
motion of the vessel was so terrific as to be almost bewildering to
the oldest hands. There was none of the regular rise and fall of an
ordinary sea; the vessel was thrown with violent jerks, now on one
side, now on the other; now plunging her bow so deeply down that
she seemed about to dive, head foremost, beneath the waves; now
thrown bodily upwards, as if tossed up by some giant hand beneath
her. The watch off duty was sent below, for there was nothing that
could be done on deck; and the water swept over her in such masses
as to threaten, at times, to carry everything before it. One man
had had his leg broken. Several had been seriously bruised and
hurt.
"This is terrible, Bill," Reuben said, as he went below.
"Ay, lad; I have been at sea, man and boy, over forty years, and
it's the worst sea I ever saw. I expect to see her masts go out of
her, before long. Nothing could stand such straining as this. You
had best turn in at once. Unless I am mistaken, it will be all
hands to the pumps, before long. If she hadn't been one of the
tightest crafts afloat, she would have been making water at every
seam, by this time."
Reuben felt, the instant he lay down, that sleep was out of the
question; for it needed all his strength to prevent himself from
being thrown out of his bunk. The noise, too, was terrific--the
rush and swell of the water overhead, the blows which made the ship
shiver from stem to stern, the creaking of the masts, and howling
of the wind. Night had set in, now. It was pitch dark in the
forecastle, for the swinging lantern had been dashed so violently
against the beams that the light was extinguished.
Half an hour after Reuben turned in, a crash was heard. A moment
later the door was opened, and there was a shout:
"The mizzen has gone! All hands to cut away the wreck!"
The watch turned out and began to make their way aft, and were soon
engaged with knife and hatchet in cutting away the wreck of the
mizzen which, towing behind, threatened, with each heavy following
sea, to plunge into the vessel's stern. A cheer broke from the men
as the last rope was cut, and the wreck floated astern. The mast
had gone close to the deck, smashing the bulwark as it fell over
the side. The motion of the ship was easier, for its loss.
"Mr. James," the captain shouted, "we must get preventer stays, at
once, upon the fore mast. The main mast may go, if it likes, and at
present we shall be all the better without it, but the foremast we
must keep, if we can."
"Ay, ay, sir. I will set about it, at once."
Picking out a few of the best hands, the first mate proceeded about
the work.
"Go and sound the well, Reuben," the captain said.
Reuben went off at once, and returned in two or three minutes.
"There are four feet of water in it, sir."
"Four feet! Are you sure?" the captain exclaimed.
"Quite sure, sir."
The captain handed over the command of the deck to the second
officer, and went below with Reuben. First wiping the rod
carefully, he sounded the well.
"You are right," he said. "It is three inches over the four feet. I
fear that the bumping of the mizzen, before we got rid of it, must
have started a butt. She could hardly have made so much water from
straining."
The captain made his way aft. The saloon was empty; the passengers,
one by one, had retired to their cabins. He knocked at the doors of
Mr. Mason and the chief warder.
"The ship is making water fast," he said. "We must rig the
main-deck pumps. I can't spare any of the crew, their hands are
full. Will you set the convicts to work?"
In a few minutes the clank of the pumps was heard. Very irregularly
were they worked, for it was next to impossible for the men to
stand to them, with the vessel throwing herself about so wildly.
The captain had remained on deck. He placed his hand on the shrouds
of the main mast. One moment they hung loosely; and then, as the
vessel rolled over, tightened themselves, with a sudden jerk, till
they were as stiff as iron rods. He shook his head.
"Reuben, make your way up to the chief officer, and tell him that I
am going to get rid of the main-top mast. Tell him to see that
everything is cut free from the fore mast."
Reuben made his way aloft with difficulty. It needed all his
strength to prevent the wind from tearing him from his grasp of the
shrouds, but at length he reached the fore top, where the mate was
at work. He delivered the captain's message.
"Ask the captain to wait five minutes, till I get the back stay
secured. I will send a man down, as soon as I am ready."
"You take this axe," the captain said, when Reuben regained the
deck, "and stand by this stay. When you see me ready to cut the
other, cut at the same moment."
In a few minutes Bill came down, with a message to the captain that
all was ready. The latter raised his arm to Reuben. He waited till
the vessel rolled over, and then lifted his axe. The two blows fell
together on the stays. A moment later the vessel began to rise
again. As the jerk came there was a crash above, and the main-top
mast fell over the side, clear of the deck, having snapped off at
the cap like a pipe stem.
"Thank God for that," the captain said, as he cut away the
connections on the other side, and the spar drifted astern, "that
is off our minds."
The loss of the main-top mast and mizzen greatly relieved the
strain on the ship, and she worked much easier. In half an hour,
the first officer returned on deck with his party, and reported
that he had done all he could to secure the fore mast.
"The sea is becoming more regular," the captain said, "now that we
are getting further away from the centre of the storm. We shall
soon have the waves racing behind us, like mountains, and we shall
have to shake out the fore sail to keep ahead of them. Now, let us
see how they are getting on below."
The well was again sounded, and it was found that the water had
gained two or three inches.
"When the motion gets a little more regular, Reuben, you must take
two or three hands, and work your way aft in the hold, and try and
find out where the water is coming in."
"I will go at once, sir, if you like."
"No," the captain replied, "it must not be thought of. Everything
will be adrift, and you would be crushed to death, to a certainty.
You must wait till we are out of this tumble. If the water gains no
faster than it does now, two or three hours will make no material
difference, and by that time I hope we shall have got a regular
sea."
Finding that there was nothing for him to do, Reuben again turned
in. The motion was still tremendous, but he could feel a sensible
change from what it was before. The motion of the ship was less
sudden and violent and, although she rolled tremendously, she rose
each time with an easier motion.
An hour later the watch turned out, and the others took their
place. The wind was blowing as heavily as when the hurricane began,
but the aspect of the sea had changed. It was no longer a mass of
leaping, tumbling water; but was running in long waves, following
each other, rising high above the vessel's stern as they overtook
her. Having lashed himself to the side, he remained for an hour
watching the sea. The first mate then came up to him.
"The captain thinks you might manage to get aft now. I will send
Bill and Dick Whistler with you, to help you move any boxes or
bales."
Reuben went back in the forecastle and got some tools, a piece of
old sailcloth, and a large bundle of oakum; and then made his way
with the two sailors down into the after hold. The way in which the
upper tier of cargo lay heaped against the sides showed that it
would, as the captain said, have been impossible to enter while the
motion was at its worst. The rolling, however, had greatly
diminished; the vessel rising and falling with a regular motion, as
each wave passed under her. The men each carried a lantern and,
with some difficulty, made their way to the stern.
"Ay, it's somewhere about here," Bill said. "I can hear the rushing
of water, somewhere below. Now, the first thing is to move these
bales."
They worked for a time, and then Bill returned on deck to fetch two
more hands. They brought hand spikes and bars, as the bales were
wedged so tightly together that it was difficult, in the extreme,
to move them. It took two hours' hard work before they reached the
leak. As the captain had supposed, the head of one of the planks
had been started, at the stern post, by a blow from the wreck of
the mizzen; and the water was rushing in with great force.
"A few hours of this would have settled her," Bill said. "All the
pumps in the ship would not keep down such a leak as this."
Reuben at once set to work, cutting a deep groove in the stern
post. He butted some stout pieces of wood into this, and wedged the
other ends firmly against the first rib. Then he set to work to jam
down sail cloth and oakum between this barrier and the plank that
had started, driving it down with a marlinespike and mallet. It was
a long job, but it was securely done; and at last Reuben had the
satisfaction of seeing that a mere driblet of water was making its
way down, behind the stuffing, into the ship.
"That's a first-rate job, lad," Bill said approvingly. "Half an
hour's work once a week will keep her dry, if there is no water
finds its way in anywhere else."
Reuben went aft to the well. The pump was now working steadily, the
gangs of convicts relieving each other by turns. On sounding the
well, he found that the water had fallen nine inches since he had
last ascertained its depth. Going on deck, he found that a misty
light filled the air, and that morning was breaking.
The captain had two or three times come down to the hold, to watch
the progress of the work. Reuben reported to him its completion,
and the fall in the water.
"Yes, it's been falling the last hour," the captain said. "She will
do now. But she's making water, still. Some of the seams must have
opened. I have been looking her over, and can't find out where it
is; and we can do nothing until the gale has blown itself out, and
we can get below and shift the cargo."
Reuben found that the fore sail had been set while he was below;
and the vessel was running, some twelve knots an hour, before the
wind. At one moment she was in a deep valley, then her stern
mounted high on a following wave, and she seemed as if she must
slide down, head foremost. Higher and higher the wave rose, sending
her forward with accelerated motion; then it passed along her, and
she was on a level keel on its top, and seemed to stand almost
still as the wave passed from under her.
In spite of the extra lashing which had been given, the hen coops,
spars, and everything loose upon the decks had been swept away; and
the bulwarks had, in several places, been stove in. The galley had
been carried away, but the cook had just made a shift to boil a
cauldron of coffee below, and a mug of this was served out to all
hands. As Reuben broke a biscuit into his portion, and sipped it,
he thought he had never enjoyed a meal so much. He had now been,
for eighteen hours, wet through to the skin; and the coffee sent a
warm glow through him.
The captain ordered all hands, save a few absolutely required on
deck, to turn in; and Reuben was soon in a glow of warmth beneath
his blankets and, lulled by the now easy motion of the ship, was
fast asleep in a few minutes.
After four hours' sleep, he was again on deck. The gale was blowing
as strongly as ever, three men were at the helm, and the vessel was
still tearing along at great speed. Several of the male passengers
were on the poop, and the contrast between the appearance of the
Paramatta at the same hour on the previous day, and that which she
presented now, struck Reuben very strongly. Sadly, indeed, she
looked with mizzen mast gone, the main mast shortened to the cap,
and all the upper spars and rigging of the fore mast gone. She was,
however, making good weather of it, for her hold was now so dry
that the pumps were worked only on alternate hours, and the relief
afforded by the loss of all her top hamper was very great.
For a week the Paramatta ran before the gale. At the end of the
fourth day its force somewhat abated, but it still blew much too
hard for anything to be done towards getting up fresh spars; while
the lost mizzen rendered it impossible for them to bring her up
into the wind.
"It's bitterly cold, Bill," Reuben said. "Its been getting colder
every day, but this morning it is really bitter."
"And no wonder, lad, seeing that we have been racing south for
pretty nigh a week. We have been making a little easting, but that
is all, and we are getting into the region of ice. We may see some
bergs any time now."
"I should like to see an iceberg," Reuben said.
"The fewer we see of them the better," Bill replied, "for they are
about as nasty customers as you want to meet. I expected we should
have seen them before, but this gale must have blown them south a
bit. They work up with the northwesterly current, but I expect the
wind will have carried them back against it. No, I don't want to
see no icebergs."
"But if it were a very big one, we might get under its lee and
repair damages a bit, Bill. Might we not?"
"No, my lad. The lee of an iceberg ain't a place one would choose,
if one could help it. There you are becalmed under it, and the berg
drifting down upon you, going perhaps four knots an hour. No, the
farther you keep away from icebergs the better. But if you have got
to be near one, keep to windward of it. At least, that's my
'speryence.
"They have been having some trouble with the convicts, I hears.
They worked well enough at first, as long as they knew that there
was a lot of water in the hold; but since then they have been
a-grumbling, and last night I hear there was a rumpus, and six of
them was put in irons. That's the first of it, and the sooner the
gale's over, and we shapes our course in smooth water for Sydney
heads, the better I shall be pleased."
An hour later, Bill pointed to the sky ahead.
"Do yer see nothing odd about that 'ere sky?"
"No," Reuben replied, "except that it's very light coloured."
"Ay, that's it, my lad. That's what they call the ice blink. You
see if we ain't in the middle of bergs before night comes on. I
have not been whaling for nothing."
A few minutes later, the first mate was heard to be shouting
orders.
"Just as I thought," Bill said. "We are going to try to rig a jury
mizzen, so as to help us claw off the ice, if need be."
A spare top mast was got up from below. Guys were fixed to one end
and, with the help of the marines and a party of convicts, the spar
was raised alongside the stump of the mizzen mast; and was there
lashed securely, the guys being fastened as stays to the bulwarks.
Blocks had been tied to the top, before it was raised; and ropes
rove into them; and a try sail was brought on deck, and laid ready
for hoisting.
The first mate ascended to the fore top, and at once hailed the
deck that ice was visible ahead. The captain joined him, and for
some minutes the two officers carefully examined the horizon. No
sooner did the captain regain the deck than he ordered the try sail
to be hoisted on the jury mast, and a haul to be given upon the
braces of the fore sail, while the ship's course was laid a little
north of east.
"It is lucky the wind has gone down as much as it has," he remarked
to Mr. Hudson. "The sea is still heavy but, if that jury mizzen
stands, we shall be able to claw off the ice."
"Is there much of it, captain?"
"We could see a good many bergs and, from the look of the sky, I
should say there was an ice field lying beyond them. However, I
think we shall do, if the wind does not freshen again. If it does,
we must do our best to make a group of islands lying down to the
southeast, and there refit. They are a rendezvous for whalers, in
summer."
"Why not do so now, captain?"
"I would, if it were not for the convicts. But, unless as a last
resource, I would not run the risk of touching at any island with
them on board. As long as we are at sea they are comparatively
harmless and, unless there is gross carelessness on the part of
their guard, there is little fear of an outbreak. But once let them
get on land, the matter is changed altogether. They are nearly
three to one as against the warders, marines, and crew; and I would
not run the risk, on any account, if it can be possibly avoided.
No, no, Mr. Hudson, unless it be a matter of life and death, we
will put in nowhere till we are in Sydney harbour."