gift, to see whether it was all a-tanto and seaworthy, without losing
any more time in vain repinings, and scanning the ocean fruitlessly for
the _Sea Rover_; Jonathan sitting up, and beginning to be interested, as
he regained his courage and self-reliance, through his companion's words
and the warmth of the sun combined, and lost that feeling of hopeless
despair that seemed to overwhelm him and weigh him down since they lost
sight of the ship for the last time on the previous night.
"It must have been adrift a good while," said David, clambering on to
the keel of the boat, and getting astride on it. "The bottom is quite
slimy. Oh, my poor leg, how it hurts! I forgot all about that squeeze
I had between the rudder beam and the wheelhouse, for a moment. Never
mind," continued the brave boy, hiding his pain from his companion, who
winced in sympathy; "it was only a little wrench I gave it, and it has
passed off now. But pray hold on tight to the stern, Jonathan--you can
catch hold of it by the rudder-hinge--or else I'll be parting company,
and going off on a cruise by myself."
Working himself along with his hands and knees on the slippery surface
of the boat, he felt the exposed portion all over, and as far under
water as his arm could reach down, when he proceeded to give his opinion
like a consulting surveyor.
"The timbers are all sound, old chap," he said, "at least, as well as I
can make out; and not a hole anywhere that I can see. I can't tell for
certain, however, till we right her properly, and get the water out of
her; and I think we'll find our work cut out for us to do that,
Jonathan, my boy."
"I'm sure I don't see how we can manage it," replied his friend
despairingly.
"Oh, don't you?" answered David cheerfully, his spirits rising with the
sense of action and the feeling of having something to do, and as happy
and unconcerned as if he were safe on board the _Sea Rover_. "Oh, don't
you, Master Jonathan? Then allow me to inform you, as Dick Murphy says,
that there are more ways of killing a pig besides hanging him; and that
I see a way to our righting that boat."
"How?" inquired the other.
"I'll soon show you," said David. "But I guess and calculate it will
take a pretty considerable time I reckon, and you'll have to help us,
sirree."
"Of course I will," said Jonathan, laughing at David's apt imitation of
an American passenger on board their ship, who had unwittingly been the
source of much amusement to the two boys, with his drawling voice, and
habit of speaking through his nose in regular "down eastern" fashion.
"Well, bear a hand, old cock," said David jocularly, pleased at seeing
Jonathan laugh again, and getting off the boat's keel gingerly on to
their raft again. "The first thing we have to do, Jonathan, is to try
and raise the bow of the craft on top of these timbers here--or rather,
sink down the end of the wheelhouse roof so that it may get under the
boat. We can do it easy enough by both going to the extreme point of it
and bearing it down by our united weight; but mind you don't slip off,
old boy. Hold on tight."
It was no easy task, as the motion of the waves hindered them, and the
raft was lifting and falling as the surges rolled under them; besides
which, the boat was heavy, and the suction of the water seemed to keep
it down and resist their efforts.
However, they persevered, and, after innumerable attempts and failures,
succeeded at length in getting part of the bow of the cutter on to the
end of the raft, which it almost submerged, although it was itself
lifted clean out of the sea.
"So far, so good," said David, puffing and blowing like a grampus with
his exertions, and Jonathan following suit. "We'd better have a spell
off for a bit; the heaviest part of the work is yet to come."
"Don't you think," said Jonathan presently, after a rest, "that it would
be a good plan to float her stern round at right angles to the raft?
Then the waves would force her on to it, almost without our help."
"Right you are," said David. "Two heads are always better than one!"
"You stop where you are," said Jonathan. "You know your leg is bad; and
besides, I'm more at home in the water than you are, although you're a
sailor. I'll jump in, and soon turn her stern round, while you hold on
to the bow, so that it doesn't slide off and give us all our trouble
over again to get it back."
So saying, he let himself down into the sea, and catching hold of the
aftermost end of the boat, which was now much deeper down in the water,
owing to the bow being raised, struck vigorously with his free hand,
swimming on his side, and soon managed to slew it round so that it
pointed athwart-wise to the raft.
"Now, David," he said, when this was accomplished, "if you'll come into
the water too,--I'm sorry to trouble you, old man, but I can't do it all
by myself--and put your shoulder under the other gunwale of the boat,
the same as mine is under this, and hold on to our staging at the same
time, we'll be able by degrees to lift and drag it bodily on to the
raft, as the send of the sea, as you call it, will assist us."
"Why, Jonathan, you ought to be a sailor," said David admiringly. "It's
the very thing to be done, and just what I was going to suggest." And
he also slid off into the sea, taking particular care of his wounded
leg, and went to his companion's assistance, placing himself in the
position he had advised.
The two boys exerted themselves to the utmost, held on tightly to the
raft as they "trod the water," as swimmers say, with their feet, lifting
the boat an inch or two at a time with each wave that rolled towards
them, until, little by little, they got one end well upon the raft,
which it sank quite a foot in the water, when they clambered out of the
sea and got on to it, too.
"Now," said David, "comes the tug of war, to get the boat over, right
side uppermost."
"And then," rejoined Jonathan, "we'll have to bale her out. How will
you manage that?"
"With our boots, to be sure," was the prompt answer.
"Oh yes," said Jonathan, "I quite forgot those. Let us get her over at
once; it is cold work standing thus in the water; and we may as well be
comfortable as not!"
After a long and weary struggle, during the course of which the boys
were in the water, with their weight hanging on to the keel, and
endeavouring to turn it over--they succeeded at last, almost when they
were half inclined to give up the task as hopeless.
Then when the boat was righted, they pushed it off the raft, and David
kept it in proper position, while Jonathan, taking off one of his boots,
baled away until he was tired; David relieving him, and he taking his
place in keeping the boat steady. It was slow work, but it was done in
time; and when it was half emptied of its contents, they both climbed
in, and being now able to bale together, they soon had it clear, and
floating bravely like a cork.
Much to their joy, it did not leak a bit; and after having satisfied
themselves on that point, they went on to examine their craft in detail.
It was a smart ship's cutter, which had evidently, as David had
surmised, been washed off the bows or davits of some sea-going vessel
through being carelessly fastened, for it was perfectly uninjured, and,
to the delight of the boys, it had its proper oars and a mast and sails
lashed fore and aft under the thwarts. There was also a locker in the
stern-sheets which was locked, and on David prising it open with his
clasp knife, it was found to contain some fishing-line and hooks. A
small cask, or breaker, was also locked in the bow of the boat, and this
was found to contain water, a trifle impregnated by the sea, and
slightly brackish, but still quite drinkable. It need hardly be
mentioned what a great boon this was to them, as they had begun to be
afflicted with thirst as the sun's heat grew more powerful towards
mid-day.
"Oh, David," exclaimed Jonathan presently, from his seat in the stern of
the boat, where he had been giving way to his thoughts while his friend
was bustling about in the bows, stepping the mast, and seeing that the
sail and tackle answered properly, "God has been very watchful over us!"
"Yes," replied the other, "we have much to be thankful for, old man, and
I am for one, as I've no doubt you are; but still I don't see why we
should remain here, as there is no chance of the _Sea Rover_ coming back
for us now, and there is a good southwesterly breeze blowing just on
purpose for us."
"Why, in what direction would you steer?"
"Nor'-east, to be sure, and we'll fetch the Cape of Good Hope in time,
besides the chance of falling in the track of passing vessels."
"Have you any idea of where we are, David?"
"Well, the ship yesterday was in latitude 36 degrees and something, and
just nearing the longitude of Greenwich, which is neither east nor west,
as you know, so I suppose we're about a thousand miles or so off the
Cape."
"Good heavens, David! a thousand miles!"
"It isn't such a tremendous long way, Jonathan. We can run it easily,
if the wind lasts from the same quarter, in about eight days; and if we
don't quite fetch the Cape, we'll reach some part of South Africa at all
events--that is, if we don't come across the track of a ship, and get
picked up before then."
"But even eight days, David. What shall we do for food all that time?"
said Jonathan, who was by no means of so hopeful a disposition as his
friend.
"Don't you recollect, old fellow," rejoined David, "what you said just
now, of God watching over us? As He has done so up to now, don't you
think He'll look after us still, and provide some means by which we
shall not starve?"
"Yes," said the other, feeling the rebuke, "you are quite right, David;
and I was wrong to doubt His mercy. But, oh, I do feel so hungry!"
"So do I," replied David. "But we'll have to grin and bear it for a
while, old chap, as we are not near old Slush's caboose, on board the
_Sea Rover_, and I don't see any grub anywhere in sight. However,
Jonathan, we haven't felt the pangs of real hunger yet, and needn't
begin to shout out before we're hurt. Let us do something--make sail on
the boat and abandon our old raft, which has served us a good turn--and
we'll wear off the edge of our appetites."
David's advice was followed. Taking only the life-buoy with them, they
cast loose from the raft almost with feelings of regret, for it had
saved their lives, and it seemed like ingratitude to leave it there
tossing alone on the surface of the deep now that they had no further
service for it; and, hoisting the cutter's "leg-of-mutton" sail, and
steering with an oar, as the boat's rudder was missing, they ran before
the wind, David directing their course, as nearly as he could possibly
guess to the north-east, by the sun, which had now passed the meridian.
"I say, Jonathan," said David, after a time, when they had quite lost
sight of the raft, and must have run some miles, "just rummage in the
locker again, and see if their is anything else we passed over in our
first search?"
"No," said Jonathan, after going down on his knees and looking into
every corner of the receptacle with his fingers, so that not a crevice
was left unsearched, "nothing but the fishing-lines."
"Well, let us have them out and see if we can catch anything."
"But we've got no bait."
"Oh, we can tie a bit of my red flannel shirt or your white one to the
hooks. Fish bite at anything at sea, if they can only see it. Hullo!"
added David, "I didn't see that before."
"What?" exclaimed Jonathan.
"Why, the name of the vessel to which this boat belonged. There it is,
painted there on the gunwale as large as life, the _Eric Strauss_. I
suppose she was a German ship, but I never heard of her."
The two boys got out the lines presently, attaching small pieces of
fluttering cloth to the hooks, and heaved them overboard, dragging them
in the wake of the boat some distance astern; but they caught nothing
that day, nor did they even see the sign of a fin. A whale travelling
by himself, and not accompanied by a "school" as usual, was the only
solitary denizen of the deep that they perceived.
It was the same the next day, the boat sailing in a north-east direction
as well as David could judge, for the wind remained in the same quarter,
from the southward and westward. But he had some difficulty in keeping
her on her course at night, owing to the absence of the north star,
which is never seen south of the equator, although he could manage to
steer her all right by the sun during the day.
When the third morning broke, the boys were starving with hunger, and
could have eaten anything. They even tried to gnaw at bits of leather
cut out of their boots, but they were so tough and sodden from their
long immersion in the sea that they could make nothing of them.
If it had not been for the breaker of water which they found
providentially in the boat, they felt that they must have died.
STORY THREE, CHAPTER FIVE.
STARVATION AND PLENTY.
"Look, David," said Jonathan, when the sun had risen well above the
horizon on that third morning.
He was sitting down in the bow of the boat, looking out almost
hopelessly for the sight of some sail, while David was in the
stern-sheets steering.
"There's a big flock of birds right in front of us. Oh, if we only
could catch one! I could eat it raw."
"Well, I don't think we'd wait for the cooking," said his companion
philosophically, although he put the helm down a bit so that he might
likewise see the birds that Jonathan had spied.
"What can they be so far out at sea?" inquired the latter.
"Molly hawks, to be sure," said David promptly. "We must be getting
into the latitude of the Cape."
"Why, they're as big as geese," said Jonathan, when the boat got nearer
them. "But some are quite small; are they the young ones?"
"No," replied David; "those are the cape pigeons, which generally sail
in company with the others, and not far off at any rate. When you see
them close, as I've seen them scores of times, and as you'll be able to
if we catch one, as I hope we shall, you'll find they are very like a
large pigeon, only that they have webbed feet; and they always seem
plump and fat. See, their feathers are white and downy, while their
heads are brown and their wings striped with the same colour, giving
them the appearance, if you look down on them from a ship, of being
large white and brown butterflies, with their large wings outspread.
Draw in your line a bit, Jonathan, and let the white stuff on the hook
flutter about in the air; perhaps one of them will grab at it thinking
it's something good. It's our only chance."
No angler, not even the celebrated Izaac Walton, ever angled more
industriously than the two boys did for the next hour, trying to attract
one of the birds, which, both molly hawks and cape pigeons, hovered
about the boat all the time, making swoops every now and then down into
the sea.
They were too knowing, however, to accept David's fictitious bait, as a
fish would probably have done.
One look at it was quite sufficient for them; first one and then another
wheeling round and coming nearer the surface of the water to inspect the
inducement offered them, and flying off again in disgust.
At last, just as a group of three of the cape pigeons, which were the
most inquisitive of the lot, stooped down over the strip of red flannel
attached to David's hook, he gave it a jerk and it caught somehow or
other in the bird's foot or leg, and he pulled it in, squeaking and
fluttering all the time, its companions circling round it in alarm, and
cawing in concert over its misfortune.
"Hurrah!" exclaimed Jonathan, as David hauled in his prize, flapping
vigorously, over the gunwale in triumph; and he stretched out his hand
to take hold of it.
"Look out, and stand clear a moment," shouted out his friend. "Those
cape pigeons have a nasty habit of throwing up everything they have in
their stomachs on to you as soon as you catch them. There, you see. I
suppose it's a means of protection given them by nature, the same as the
savoury perfume of the American skunk."
"He's lucky to have anything to bring up," said Jonathan drily. "It is
more than we could do, I'm sure. There's plenty of him to eat, however,
old fellow," he added, when the bird had disgorged its last feed, "and I
vote we pluck off his feathers at once and begin business."
"All right," said David, giving the bird a rap on the head with the
steering oar, which effectually stayed any further proceedings on its
part. "Pipe all hands to dinner."
Both the boys said afterwards, when detailing their experiences during
that voyage in an open boat across the ocean when they were lost at sea,
that they never before or since ever enjoyed such a meal in their lives
as that cape pigeon, which they plucked, and divided into two equal
portions, eating the raw flesh, share and share alike, with the greatest
gusto, even licking up afterwards the blood that dropped from it on to
the thwarts.
The repast gave them new life and spirits, and from that hour the tide
of their affairs seemed to flow more favourably, as shortly afterwards
they caught a molly hawk, which they carefully put away in the boat's
locker along with the water, which David was very particular in
allowancing out, giving Jonathan and himself only a small quantity twice
a day out of a measure he had made by cutting off the toe part of one of
his boots.
Towards the afternoon of the same day the heavens grew dark right ahead,
a big black cloud spreading across the horizon like a great curtain, and
mounting gradually till it hid the sun from view.
"We're going to have a squall, Jonathan," said David. "You must look
out sharp to shift the sheet when I tell you, and unstep the mast, if
necessary, the very moment I say, mind!"
"Right you are," answered the other, who had now lost all that
nervousness for which David used to chaff him when on board the _Sea
Rover_. "You only give the word, old man, and you'll find me all
there."
The squall, however, passed away without touching them, having vented
its force in some other quarter; but the wind veered round to the
eastwards, much to David's disgust, as he had to let the boat's head
fall off from the course he wished to steer, and, strange to say, the
great black cloud they had first seen seemed still to face them and keep
right ahead, although their direction had been altered--it looked,
really, just as if standing like a sentry to bar their progress.
"I don't know what it can mean," said David anxiously. "The wind has
shifted, so why can't it shift too?"
"It doesn't appear so big as it was," observed Jonathan. "It is
gradually narrowing at the bottom as it spreads out on top. And look,
David, the end of it, close to the sea, comes down into a point just
like a thread."
Presently, as the boat ran nearer towards the cloud, which seemed to
rest stationary over the water, they could see that the sea was churned
up around it in a state of violent commotion, and they could hear a
peculiar sucking noise rumbling in the air at the same time.
"I tell you what it is," said David; "although I've never seen one
before, it must be a waterspout, and we'll have to give it a wide berth.
Look out, Jonathan, for the sheet; I'm going to put the helm up and
bring the boat about on the other tack."
Almost as soon as the cutter turned off at an angle from the direction
of the waterspout, although not absolutely going away from it, as the
boys were interested in the sight, David uttered another exclamation.
"Gracious goodness, Jonathan!" he ejaculated. "Look, if there isn't a
whale there! And he is going slap at it, as if he is going to bowl it
over."
It was true enough; but, whether the leviathan of the deep had been
caught in the maelstrom of the waterspout, or had gone towards it from
choice, they could not tell. There he was, however, at all events,
circling round in the eddy of the sea at the foot of the cloud, and
sending up columns of spray every now and then with the flukes of his
tail, as they came down with a bash on the water, like the sound of a
Nasmyth steam-hammer.
Almost as soon as the boy spoke, the whale appeared to raise itself up
on end, as they could see nearly the whole length of its body; there was
a tremendous concussion; and then, with a report like thunder, the
waterspout burst, falling around the boat in the form of heavy rain.
"I say," said Jonathan, when the unexpected shower had ceased, "it's an
ill wind that blows nobody good. Look, if there are not a number of
dead fish which the waterspout must have sucked up. How thankful we
ought to be! there is enough to last us ever so long and keep us from
starvation."
"You are light," said David. "Let us kneel down and thank God for His
mercy and care in watching over us!"
And, after they had prayed fervently to Him who had guarded them through
all the perils of the deep, and now showered on them a supply of food
almost from heaven, they set to work and collected all the fish they
could see floating about on the surface of the sea, David saying that
they were bonetas and skipjacks, and capital eating, as he stored them
in the locker.
"We'll cut them open and dry them in the sun by and by," he added.
"It's too much overcast to do it now; and it's so rough with the spray
dashing over us that they would only get wet instead of dry."
Soon after the waterspout had burst, the boat's head had been brought
round again as near to the northward as the easterly wind would permit;
but, towards evening, as the breeze grew stronger and stronger, and the
sea rose in mountainous billows, just the same almost as on the day on
which they bade good-bye to the _Sea Rover_, they were obliged to let
her off a point or two and scud before the gale.
It was a day of surprises; for, just as night was closing in, Jonathan--
who took the station of lookout man in the fore-sheets, while David
steered, being more at home with the rudder oar than his friend--
observed something white, standing out in relief against the dark
background of the horizon, which was piled up with a wrack of blue-black
storm-clouds.
"I say, David!" he shouted out, "what is this white thing in front--is
it another waterspout, or a squall, or what?"
"I'll soon tell you," said David, standing up in the stern-sheets to get
a better view. But he had no sooner looked than he dropped down again
in his seat as if he had been shot, and turned as pale as a ghost, as he
exclaimed hysterically, half laughing, half crying, "A sail! a sail!"
STORY THREE, CHAPTER SIX.
IN EXTREMITY.
"What? a ship really?" said Jonathan, sharing the other's excitement.
"Oh, I'm so glad, so glad!"
"Yes," said David, recovering a bit from his hysterical fit, and
speaking in a more collected manner. "But she's crossing our course,
and if she does not see us and take in sail, I'm afraid we won't be able
to catch her up!"
What was a gale to those in the cutter, with a gunwale hardly a foot
above the surface of the water, was only just a fair wind to the
full-rigged ship which was sailing on a bowline away from them almost
hull-down on the horizon, with all her canvas spread that could draw, to
take advantage of the breeze.
The boat's head was pointed right towards the vessel, whose course was
nearly at right angles to theirs, and David put the helm up to bring
them nearer the wind so that they might intercept her; but the cutter
dipped so much in the waves, and shipped such a lot of water, that he
had to let fall off again and run free, much to his mortification, as
the stranger was steadily ploughing her way ahead; and, proceeding in
the direction they did, they would fetch far to leeward of her.
"Oh, it's cruel," said Jonathan, "to sail away like that and leave us!"
"We mustn't accuse them wrongfully," said David, who, of course, was
more versed in nautical matters. "Ships when far at sea don't keep much
of a look-out, as they would have to do in the channel or near land.
And, besides, old fellow, you must recollect that although we can see
her plainly, we to those on board would appear but the tiniest speck in
the distance, if we were seen at all, and would be taken for a wandering
albatross, or one of those Molly hawks like that we caught this morning.
They don't see us, evidently, or they would take in sail."
Jonathan, however, would not give up hope, but continued to wave his
shirt--which he had taken off for the purpose--in the bow of the boat,
until she lessened as she drew away, and finally, disappeared below the
horizon as night came on with hasty footsteps--as it always does in
southern latitudes--shutting out everything from their gaze.
The two boys were bitterly disappointed.