NAVIE GRIND DESCRIBED--THE WRECK ON SHORE--THE SHIP DASHED TO PIECES--
THE RESCUED.
Navis Grind, or Navie Grind, the point towards which Morton and his
friend directed their steps, is a high cliff forming the extreme western
point of that part of Shetland called North Maven, and thus stands out
prominently into the Atlantic Ocean, some way to the south of Ronas
Hill. A short way off from it, due west, like the advanced sentry of an
outpost, is the small rocky islet of Ossa Skerry, but this in no way
breaks the force of the seas as they rush impetuously onward from far
far away across the ocean. It seems, on the contrary, to have the
effect of uniting the strength of two seas in one, and of impelling them
with double vehemence against the bold cliff which confronts their fury.
Solid as is the rock of which the cliff is composed, it has in the
course of ages been rent away, quarried out as it were; huge blocks,
many of several tons weight, being cast far away inland, while the whole
ground, for two or three hundred yards from the edge of the cliff, is
strewed with fragments of lesser size, so that the rocks present more
the appearance of the ruins of some vast edifice, than, as they really
are, masses hove there by the operation of one of nature's most potent
agents. At length the sea has worked a deep chasm in the cliff, and
each successive storm seems to dig out and force upward a fresh layer of
rock. As the party approached this spot, so wild and desolate at all
times, but doubly so now, the seas, dark, towering, and topped with
crests of foam, came rolling onward in quick succession, with a
fierceness which seemed irresistible, till, meeting the cliff, they
rushed upwards in dense masses, making the very ground shake with the
concussion. Now a sea, fiercer than its forerunners, would tear away a
huge fragment of rock, and throw it into the air as if it had been
projected from the mouth of a volcano, or send it rolling along the
down, making it dangerous to approach the spot; and, while dense sheets
of spray obscured the view seaward, the great body of water was thrown
back in a continuous cascade, increasing the tumult of the foaming
caldron which raged below.
"It was near this wild place that Lawrence Brindister obtained that
strange dog of his," said Captain Maitland to Morton. "It was the only
living creature washed ashore from the wreck of a large ship--a
foreigner, we could not ascertain of what nation. While others were
engaged in picking up the treasures they could find, he, at no little
risk to his own life, assisted the poor animal, who was sadly battered
by the fragments of wreck, and exhausted by swimming to land. The
creature looked up into his face, licked his hand, and, from that
moment, claimed him as his master, and would follow no one else. See,
there he stands; I fear he is to-day in one of his maddest fits."
The captain pointed, as he spoke, to the top of a high rocky mount which
overlooked the sea. Lawrence Brindister, with his two dumb animals by
his side, was there seen gesticulating wildly, waving his hand towards
the ocean, and shouting apparently with his utmost strength. The roar
of the waters, however, as they were hurled against the cliff, added to
the howling of the tempest, created a noise so deafening that even the
two seamen, accustomed even in the hurricane to make their voices heard,
could with difficulty hear each other speak.
Their first glance, as they came in sight of the sea, was in search of
the ship of which Lawrence had told them.
"Too true, there she is," exclaimed Morton, while a sickening feeling
came over his heart.
Morton and his friend lifted their glasses to their eyes mechanically,
for they could scarcely have expected to have discovered more than their
unaided sight would have told them.
"She is the Spanish corvette, there's no doubt about it," shouted Morton
to his companion, who, however, could scarcely hear what else he said,
as he added: "All the poor fellows on board can hope to do is to put off
this fatal moment, though I doubt not they have some notion of making
Yell Sound; but the sight of Ronas Hill must, if they look at their
charts, show them that they cannot fail to drive on shore long before
they could reach it."
"Even now that ship might be saved, or, at all events, the lives of her
people, if she had a pilot on board to carry her into Yell Sound,"
shouted Captain Maitland. "What say you, Rolf?"
"That if mortal power could carry a man on board her, I would go,"
answered Morton. "But what boat could live in such a sea as that?"
"If a boat built and manned by human hands can live in this sea, there
is one this moment in Hamna Voe as well able to do so as any which
floats on water," answered Maitland. "Some of her crew may be at their
hut even now, though the gale will have given those who live nearest a
holiday, and they probably have gone to their houses."
The voe alluded to was a small but deep one, forming a good harbour on
the north side of Navie Grind. High rugged rocks formed the sides, but
there was a pathway down them to the water. Towards the inner end there
was a piece of level ground, sloping up from the beach; here the
fishermen had built a shed, which served them as a dwelling during the
fishing season. It was a long, low edifice, composed both of mud and
blocks of rock, but chiefly of timber, fragments of wreck cast up on the
beach. The doorway was the only aperture, and this served not only for
the ingress and egress of the inhabitants, but to admit light, and to
allow such part of the smoke from the fire in the centre as ever found
its way into the open air to escape; a considerable portion, it appeared
clinging to the walls and rafters, which were thoroughly blackened by
it, giving it a somewhat gloomy aspect. On one side were piled up
masts, and spars, and oars; and sails, and nets, and coils of rope were
hung against the walls or on the beams overhead; while, on the other,
were a row of bunks or standing bed places, formed out of fragments of
wreck-wood. Three or four men, seated on casks or three-legged stools,
were busily plying their netting-needles, while several others were fast
asleep on the bunks. The pathway, down which Morton and his companions
hurried, led close down to the shed. His announcement, as he entered,
that there was a ship in sight, partly dismasted, made all hands, the
sleepers as well as the workers, spring to their feet. They looked
rather blank, however, when Captain Maitland, who entered directly
after, added:
"Remember, lads, we must have none of the old customs of the island put
in practice, understand that. We want to save the ship if we can, or
the lives of those on board. Come, lads, they are fellow-creatures--
seamen like ourselves, in distress. Where is the faint-hearted coward
who would leave them to perish without lifting a hand to save them.
Such a fellow is not to be found among Shetlanders, I hope."
This appeal had an instant effect. When the men heard that Captain
Maitland and Rolf Morton proposed going out in their boat to assist the
disabled ship, they agreed to lend her, and to accompany them, the
captain undertaking to make good any damage which might accrue, even to
the loss of the boat herself.
The boat, the largest of the class used for fishing on that coast,
pulled twelve oars, and, what with the men belonging to her, and those
who had come from Hillswick, as fine a crew as ever manned a boat was
collected. The oars and other gear being placed in her, the next thing
to be done was to launch her; and while this operation was taking place,
Morton and his friend ascended the cliff, to ascertain the position of
the corvette, and what prospect there was of getting on board her. As
they climbed up the path they observed that the wind had somewhat
abated, and this gave them greater hopes of getting to sea. A moment's
glance, however, told them, when they reached the top of the cliff, that
all hope of saving the ship must be abandoned. Perhaps the Spaniards,
mistaking Saint Magnus's Bay for the entrance of Yell Sound, she had
been kept away and then hauled up again; but there she was drifting
bodily down towards the terrific headland on which they stood.
Callous and cold-hearted indeed must be the man who can witness with
indifference a scene such as that at which the two seamen now gazed--the
proud ship, which but the day before had left the shore in such gallant
trim, now shattered and crippled, struggling on amid the giant seas
which were about, in a few short moments, to hurl her to destruction.
"Nothing can save her, I fear," cried Morton, his generous heart wrung
with sorrow.
"Nothing," answered his older companion; "still, by the will of
Providence, we may be able to save the lives of some of the people on
board; but we must wait and see where she strikes: if we were to attempt
to get out to her now we should only involve ourselves in her fate."
"If she fails to weather Ossa Skerry she will drift right down on Navie
Grind, and then Heaven have mercy on their souls, for no human being on
board can escape," said Captain Maitland. "A few minutes must settle
the point."
"Luff, luff all you can, men," he exclaimed, as if those on board could
hear him. Probably they had caught sight of the terrific sea breaking
over the cliffs, and still hoped to weather the little island under
their lee bow.
All this time Lawrence Brindister kept his post, with his pony and dog
by his side, waving his arms towards the ship, and apparently shouting
out as before.
"She will weather the Skerry even now," cried Morton, but at that
instant a squall--one of the last blasts of the tempest--struck her.
Over went her mainmast, her head fell off from the sea, on she flew amid
showers of foam, and in another minute she was hid to view by the rocky
island before them. In vain they hoped against hope to see her appear
on the other side. Her fate was indeed sealed. There was only one spot
where even in moderate weather a landing could be without difficulty
effected on Ossa Skerry. Still Morton and his friend resolved to
attempt it. There was not a moment to be lost, already, probably,
numbers of the hapless crew were being swept to destruction. They
hurried down the cliff, sprang on board the boat, and shoved off.
Morton steered: with rapid strokes they pulled down the remainder of the
voe; even there heavy waves rolled in and showed the crew the sort of
sea with which they would have to contend when they got outside. Few
but Shetlanders would have attempted to face such a sea, and the finest
of boats alone could have lived in it. They reached the mouth of the
voe; their passage through the mouth was the first danger they had to
encounter; a huge sea came thundering in.
"Back off all," cried Morton; and instead of forcing the boat onward,
she slowly receded before the wave, which broke in a loud crash directly
before her, the foam flying over her bows and deluging her fore and aft.
"Now, lads, give way," shouted Morton again, and before the next sea
broke, the boat had got into deep water. They now encountered the full
force of the gale; and none but a boat admirably manned, as was theirs,
could have made headway against it, nor could she have escaped being
instantly swamped, unless steered with the greatest caution and
judgment. Now she rose on the top of a sea surrounded with foam, now
she plunged down into the trough, and those standing on the rocks, at
the mouth of the voe, feared more than once that she had sunk for ever.
Again she rose on the side of the opposite sea; the summit was reached;
but once more she disappeared beyond it. At times it seemed as if
scarcely any way was made, but still the bold seamen persevered; the
lives of some of their fellow-creatures depended on their exertions--how
many it was impossible to say, till they had ascertained where the ship
had gone on shore. They knew that in all probability in a few minutes,
even should the ship hold together, numbers must be swept off from the
decks.
Morton's object was to get sufficiently out to sea to ascertain the
position of the ship. The rapid diminution of the strength of the wind
enabled him to do this with greater ease than had at first appeared
possible; still the sea came rolling in as fiercely as before, and
rendered the greatest caution necessary to prevent the boat being
swamped. At last they got sufficiently to the westward to look along
the outer side of Ossa Skerry. No ship was to be seen. Had she
foundered, or was it possible that in so short a time she had so
completely gone to pieces that not a particle of the wreck was to be
seen? If so, not a soul on board could have escaped.
"Poor girl!" thought Morton; "it will break the heart of Bertha Eswick
to hear of it; and my wife, too--it will make her very sad."
"We will pull out a little further, Rolf," said Captain Maitland.
"There is a little bay, or bight, nearly at the south-east of the rock--
if the ship by chance drove in there we should not see her from hence."
"Give way, lads!" shouted Morton, with hope revived by his friend's
remark.
In a short time they opened the little bay of which Captain Maitland
spoke. There lay the ship almost broadside on with the shore, her stern
apparently under an overhanging cliff, while her bow, over which the sea
made a clean breach, seemed to hang on a rock, and was thus prevented
from being driven further in. Her masts and bowsprit were gone by the
board: and from the force with which the sea was breaking over her, it
seemed scarcely possible that she could herself keep much longer
together. An attempt to approach her from the seaside would have proved
the destruction of the boat. The only chance of rendering assistance
was to land on the east side of the island. Hitherto the boat's head
had been kept directly towards the seas as they came rolling in. It was
far more dangerous work crossing them as they had now to do, to reach
the inner side of the island. Often Morton and his friend watched the
foaming masses of water, as they came roaring towards them, with no
little anxiety; but by pulling round to face the larger ones, and by
then rapidly giving way, the boat at length got under the lee of the
islet. To obtain footing on the slippery rock was a work of
considerable difficulty, and still greater was it to climb to the summit
and to convey them the ropes and spars which they had brought with them.
Some of the men remained to take care of the boat, for that alone was
not an easy task, as had she been carried away by the sea, the whole
party might have been starved before assistance could have come to them.
The remainder proceeded, as rapidly as they could, across the island.
With more anxiety than they had often felt, Morton and the captain
hurried towards the edge of the cliff. Before even reaching it the
appearance which the foaming water presented, even some way from the
shore, told them too plainly the destruction which had already occurred;
while the fearful shrieks, which even through the roar of the angry
waters came up from below, warned them that every instant fresh victims
were being added to those who had already fallen a sacrifice to the
tempest.
Among fragments of masts, and spars, and planks, and other parts of the
ship, were seen the forms of numerous human beings, some yet struggling,
but struggling in vain, for life; others floating helplessly among the
pieces of wreck, or clinging to them with a convulsive clutch, while
many, already lifeless, were tossed to and fro in the boiling caldron,
happier than those who were seen every now and then, as they were swept
off, to throw up their arms, and then, with a fearful shriek of despair,
to sink from sight.
On gaining the edge of the cliff, Morton and Captain Mainland threw
themselves on the ground and looked over. The fore part of the vessel
had already been knocked to pieces. A few men still clung to part of
the bulwarks in the waist; but the sea was making a clean breach over
it, and one by one they were torn from their treacherous hold and
carried off by the waves. The only part of the wreck which yet afforded
a precarious shelter was the poop. The mainmast, in falling, had been
washed across it, and the end jamming against the cliff, it formed a
breakwater, within which a group of people yet stood, almost paralysed
with terror and despair, for the precipitous cliff above them afforded
not the slightest prospect of escape, while the violent shaking of the
wreck, and the rapid advances of the waves, showed them that in a few
minutes even that uncertain foothold would be carried from beneath them.
Morton and his friend beckoned to their companions to bring on the
ropes. It was the work of a few seconds to uncoil them and to make one
end fast to the spars they had brought. These they fixed in the ground,
two of them holding on at the same time to the upper part of the spars.
Not till all the preparations were made did Morton shout to those below
to let them know that aid was at hand. In the centre of the group was a
female form--that it was Hilda there could be little doubt. The rope
was lowered with a pair of slings at the end of it. How anxiously did
those both above and below watch its descent! The end dropped some way
from the stern of the ship; it seemed a question whether it was within
reach of those whose existence depended on clutching it. A seaman
sprang towards it as it swung backwards and forwards in the gale, but he
missed his aim, and fell headlong into the seething water, which soon
silenced his death shriek. Another, an officer apparently, made the
attempt; he had secured a line round his body, he clutched the rope and
dragged it inboard. Even at that moment Spanish gallantry was
maintained; no undue haste was shown by any to secure their own lives.
The first care of the men was to secure Hilda in the slings; this was
speedily done, but it was soon seen that if she was hauled up by herself
she would run great risk of being thrown against the side of the cliff
and severely injured. The officer who had hauled in the rope
accordingly secured himself to it, and made a sign to those above to
hoist away. The fearful rocking of the ship made them do this with all
the speed of which they were capable. At any moment the ship might go
to pieces; Morton stood nearest the edge. At length the head of Pedro
Alvarez appeared, and while with one arm he kept the end of the rope
from dashing against the cliff, with the other he supported the almost
inanimate form of Hilda Wardhill. She was speedily released from the
rope, which was again lowered, while Captain Maitland and one of the men
carried her to a hollow in the downs, which afforded some shelter from
the wind. The brave lieutenant made signs that he was going to descend
again, but Morton, who saw that it would be useless, refused to allow
him. The rope was lowered; "Haul away!" he shouted, and in a little
time the priest, Father Mendez, appeared. He was unloosed also, more
dead than alive; the rope was lowered, but scarcely had it reached the
deck when a raging sea came roaring up--fearful shrieks were heard--the
mast was torn away from its hold in the rock--a rush was made at the
rope; one man grasped it, but others in their haste dragged him off, and
the next instant the remainder of the wreck which hung together was
dashed into numberless fragments, while all who had clung to it were
hurled amidst them, one after the other rapidly disappearing beneath the
foaming waters.
Morton and the Shetlanders looked anxiously over the cliff. It was too
evident that not another human being had escaped from the wreck of the
"Saint Cecilia."
"There goes the brave ship, and there go my gallant captain and worthy
comrades," cried Pedro Alvarez, wringing his hands and pulling away at
his moustachios in the excess of his grief, as he looked over the cliff
and watched the utter destruction of the corvette. The priest, when he
had sufficiently recovered to understand what had occurred, knelt down,
and those who watched him supposed, as he lifted up his hands over the
ocean, that he was uttering prayers for the souls of his departing
shipmates. Meantime Captain Maitland was kneeling by the almost
inanimate form of Hilda, and endeavouring by every means which his
experience could suggest to restore her to consciousness. At length he
was joined by Father Mendez. "Let her continue thus, kind sir," he
said. "It is better that she should not be aware of the calamity which
has overtaken her."
Morton also, followed by the Spanish lieutenant, came up. "We can
render no further assistance to the crew of the unfortunate ship," he
observed; "not another person who was on board her remains alive but
those we have here."
With the most gentle care poor Hilda was conveyed to the boat, which
pulled back towards Hamna Voe.
The priest shuddered as he saw the seas from which he had so lately
escaped come rolling up on the boat's quarter, but his compressed lips
showed that he was resolved not to give way to his feelings in words.
Sea followed sea in quick succession, and Morton's utmost care was
required to save the boat from being swamped. All breathed more freely
when the entrance of the voe was safely reached. As they pulled up it,
Morton heard some shouts. On raising his head, he saw Lawrence
Brindister standing on a height overlooking the voe. He was whirling
his arms wildly about as before, and peering down to ascertain who was
in the boat. When he discovered a female, he apparently guessed that
she was his cousin Hilda; and striking little Neogle, he turned the
pony's head, and rode off as fast as the creature could gallop. The
boat continued her course to the head of the voe.
A rough litter being formed, Hilda was conveyed to Captain Maitland's
house; but as she continued plunged in a state of stupor, Father Mendez
advised that she should at once be taken to her home. His advice seemed
so judicious, that Morton offered to carry her there in his boat.
Captain Maitland also expressed a wish to be of the party, and the next
morning, accompanied by Pedro Alvarez and Father Mendez, they embarked
for Lunnasting. The only person who appeared on the landing-place was
Lawrence Brindister. He stood, hat in hand, with a mocking expression
on his countenance, and he was beginning to address the party when his
eye fell on Hilda. Her appearance seemed to touch his heart, for he
said nothing, but, turning round, walked slowly back before them to the
castle.
It is needless to describe the dismay and astonishment which poor
Hilda's return excited in the establishment. Lawrence had evidently in
no way warned them of what had occurred. Bertha Eswick had need of all
her self-possession and presence of mind to perform her duty. It was
many days before Hilda returned to a state of consciousness! In the
meantime, Father Mendez took up his abode in the castle; and, from the
way in which Pedro Alvarez settled himself in his apartment, it looked
as if he also intended to be a permanent guest at Lunnasting.