THE ENDING OF THE BOAT VOYAGE
For the following two days, during which time the gale still blew with
unabated force, Tom and his companions found that time did not hang idly
on their hands. The Maori had discovered a patch of wild yams growing
in the mountain forest, and whilst he dug, and Charlie carried them down
to the camp to be baked in preparation for the voyage, Tom was employed
in shooting pigeons and _manutagi_, a species of ringdove, great numbers
of which had been driven over to the lee side of the island by the
storm.
On the afternoon of the third day the wind hauled round to the
south-east, and towards evening it blew with but moderate force; the sea
went down rapidly, the sky cleared, and by dawn the ordinary gentle
trade had set in, and a deeply blue ocean lay shining and sparkling in
the bright and glorious sunshine.
It was decided at breakfast to make a start that evening just after
sunset, when they could not possibly be seen by any one on Fotuna.
Charlie bluntly asserted that if Captain Hayes caught sight of their
boat, he would give chase in the second whaler, 'and then we'd have a
mighty bad time. You, Mr. Wallis, would be all right, but me and Mr.
Chester might as well jump overboard and let the blue sharks get us, as
be taken back to the Leonie again. He's a passionate man, and doesn't
stop at trifles. Me he'd either shoot at sight, or half murder me
afterwards, during the voyage.'
Immediately after breakfast, Bill started off to collect a few old
coco-nuts to add to their already ample store of provisions, and Tom and
Charlie remained at the camp to slaughter and cook the two captive
piglets, and catch a few more fish; but hardly had they begun operations
by lighting a fire, when Bill came running back.
'The Leonie is all right. She's just coming out of Singavi, and will
most likely run past here. Put out that fire, quick, and come and look
at her.'
'Oh, I'm so glad that she is all right, Bill!' said Tom. 'It would be a
pity if such a beautiful vessel sank altogether.'
'Beautiful to look at, you mean,' said the Maori, grimly.
Walking through the forest to the mouth of the creek, they seated
themselves on a vine-covered pile of loose boulders, and watched the
brig approach. She was running before the wind, and in an hour was so
close that many of her people could be recognized. Hayes was leaning on
the rail smoking his inevitable cigar, and apparently having a good look
at the shore; Mr. Kelly and the other officers were also visible, and a
number of the 'blackbirds' were squatted about on the main deck under
the care of the usual armed guards. The brig was, of course, much deeper
in the water, now that she had more than a hundred tons of yams aboard,
but she moved along very quickly. Presently she hauled up a little, so
as to round the south point of Alofi, and the unseen watchers heard
Hayes's voice for the last time as he called out, 'Steady there, Jose!'
to the man at the wheel. In another five minutes she had disappeared
round the headland.
Then Bill turned to his companions, and said, 'Now, Mr. Wallis, and you,
Charlie, I would like to say a word. There goes the Leonie, and with
her goes any danger to us, if we decide to go back to Fotuna. Now what
is it to be--shall we go back? Will you speak first, Mr. Wallis?'
'I vote for Fiji, Bill. I don't want to live on Fotuna for perhaps six
months. My father and brother will give me up as dead when the Lady
Alicia gets back to Sydney without me.'
Charlie was equally as eager for the boat voyage, pointing out that it
could be accomplished without danger; that they had a good boat, and
provisions and water enough to last them a month; and that with ordinary
fair weather they should reach the Fiji Group in four days at the
outside. Bill, who was tacitly understood to be captain, was also in
favour of the voyage, and so the matter was decided.
By two o'clock in the afternoon everything was in readiness for a start;
but Bill, suspicious that Hayes might imagine they were in hiding
somewhere on one of the islands, and only be sailing round the coast to
see if he could discover the boat, suggested that they should first make
sure of the whereabouts of the Leonie by ascending the highest peak.
This they at once set about to accomplish, and after an hour's arduous
struggle succeeded in climbing to the summit, and from there obtaining a
view of the horizon.
'We're all right,' said Charlie. 'There she is; I can just see
her'--and he pointed to a little white speck far away to the eastward;
'she's off, sure enough.'
After resting for a while, and enjoying the glorious view, they
descended again, and reached the camp just as darkness fell.
Opening some coco-nuts, Bill poured out a drink each for himself,
Charlie and Tom.
'Here's success to our voyage, sir!' he cried, tossing off the liquor,
and then sending the shells spinning in the air. 'Now, all hands
aboard.'
Tom jumped in, got out his oar, Bill followed, and, with Charlie
steering, the boat was pulled out of the tree-darkened little creek into
the bright starlight. A hundred yards from the shore the oars were
taken in, the boat-lamp, used as a binnacle, lit, the mainsail and jib
hoisted, and with a loud 'Hurrah!' from Tom, the little craft was headed
S.S.W. with Bill at the tiller--she was steered with either a rudder or
a steer oar, the latter being used when there was a strong breeze only.
The night was warm, the breeze fair, and with plenty of heart in it, and
the three comrades were all more or less excited and disposed to talk,
and made light of the really venturesome voyage before them. Presently
Charlie, to Tom's astonishment, began to sing a catching air in Spanish,
learnt when he had served in the Chilian navy years before, and Bill,
usually so grim and taciturn, joined in the chorus with his deep,
guttural tones.
'Hallo, Bill!' cried the white sailor, dropping the 'Mr. Chester,'
'wherever did you learn this old _yamacueca_ jingle?'
'Long, long ago, when I was boat-steerer on the Prudence Hopkins, a New
Bedford ship. We had a lot of Chileno hands aboard, and they were
always singing it. Now let's quit fooling a bit, and fix up 'bout
watches.'
This was soon arranged, and then Bill told Charlie and Tom his plans in
detail. He hoped to be able to make the Great Ngele Levu lagoon, remain
there for a few days, and then sail across to the island of Rambi, where
they were almost sure to find a trading cutter or schooner bound to
Levuka; if not, then he would keep on, passing between Taviuni and Vanua
Levu, and then head direct for Levuka, where they were certain to meet
with a Sydney or New Zealand vessel.
All that night the boat ran before a steady breeze, and at daylight
Fotuna and Alofi were fifty miles astern, and there was nothing to break
the wide expanse of the ocean around them except a few wandering
sea-birds floating upon its bosom. As the sun rose higher, the wind
gained in strength without the sea increasing, and the boat slipped
through the water in gallant style. A keen look-out was kept astern,
for, as Bill said, there was a possibility of their being overtaken by a
trading vessel bound from Samoa to Fiji, or a 'blackbirder' heading for
the New Hebrides.
Then, as near to eight o'clock as could be judged, the Maori lay down to
sleep till midnight, leaving Charlie to steer and Tom to act as 'crew.'
As the night wore on the wind fell somewhat lighter, and both the white
sailor and his youthful companion found it hard to resist the feeling of
drowsiness which the insidious warmth and beauty of the night was
weaving around them.
'Charlie,' said Tom, 'if you will hold the sheet for a minute or two,
I'll go for'ard, strip off, and souse some water over myself. I can't
keep awake.'
Charlie nodded. 'Right you are, sir; but it's hardly worth while now.
I think it must be about eight bells, and time to call the skipper.'
Passing the mainsheet over to him, Tom picked up the bucket used as a
bailer, stepped over the mast thwart to the bows, and began to strip,
when Charlie sprang to his feet.
'I say, sir, here's a ship close to!' And then his voice rang out
loudly--
'_Ship ahoy!_'
The Maori was up in an instant, his seaman's eye took one quick glance
at the dark, towering mass of canvas not two hundred yards away, and
almost right abeam. Seizing the tiller from Charlie, he called out
sharply--
''Bout ship, in with the mainsheet there; she's close-hauled, and we'll
catch her up in no time. Give another hail, Charlie. Mr. Wallis, take
this lamp, stand up for'ard and sway it; hold it up as high as you can.'
Round went the boat, and then, to their intense delight, at Charlie's
second hail, and as Tom swayed his light, an answering cry came from the
ship--
'Boat ahoy, there! We see you,' followed by the rattle and squeaking of
blocks as the ship's braces were let go, and her main-yard swung back.
Then a bright light was shown from the weather mizzen rigging, and a
voice hailed--
'Are you able to come alongside? I've lost three of my boats, and the
other two are badly damaged.'
'Yes, thank you,' answered Bill, as he and Charlie lowered the mast and
sail; 'we'll pull alongside.'
Ten minutes later, Tom and his companions were standing on the deck of
the barque Adventurer, of New Bedford, Captain Frank Herrendeen, a
typical American whaling skipper, who received them very kindly, his
first question being whether they were hungry.
'No, sir,' replied Tom, who, at Bill's suggestion, acted as spokesman;
and then, in as few words as possible, he told their story, adding, 'We
have suffered no hardships whatever since we left the island, and were
making for Fiji. Where are you bound for, captain?'
'Fotuna Island. Won't that suit you?' he inquired, noticing the look of
disappointment on their faces.
'The fact is, sir, I have a very strong reason for wishing to get to
Fiji or some place where I can find a ship as quickly as possible,' said
Tom, who then gave his reasons as briefly as possible, the captain
listening with the greatest interest.
'Well, don't decide in a hurry. Come below and let us have some talk.
Mr. Burr, don't hoist in these men's boat; put a hand in her to steer,
and then veer her astern. She'll tow nicely enough in such weather as
this until daylight.'
As soon as they entered the well-lighted cabin, the captain motioned
them to seats, and then, as his eye fell on the dark features of the
Maori half-caste, he uttered an exclamation of pleasure.
'Why, it's William Chester, as sure as I'm Frank Herrendeen. How are
you, William?' and rising, he shook hands warmly with Bill, saying to
Tom, 'Why, this man was boat-steerer with me when I was mate of the
Prudence Hopkins, seven years ago.'
The steward brought the three men liquor and cigars, and Tom a cup of
hot coffee; and then the skipper of the whaler went into the subject
uppermost in his mind at once.
'Now look here. I don't want to induce you three to do anything against
your wills; but I'd be mighty glad if you'd give the word, and let me
have that boat of yours hoisted on deck. I'm in a tight place, and
that's the truth of it, and I'd like you to help me. We had a heavy
blow a few days ago, lost five men overboard--my fourth mate was
one--and the ship started a butt end, and is leaking; you'll hear the
pumps going presently. Two of my boats were swept away one after
another, and it was while endeavouring to secure the third that the
fourth mate and four of the hands were carried overboard; the ship was
thrown on her beam ends at the same time, and the poor fellows were
never seen again. So that is why I should like you to give up the idea
of going to Fiji--to be right out plain with you, I want to buy that
boat. I'll give you two hundred dollars for her, and if you, William,
will take a 'fourth mate's berth, I'll be mighty pleased.'
Bill shook his head. 'I can't do it, captain. I've pledged my word to
Captain Hawkins to stick to Mr. Wallis here, and I can't go back on it.
If you were not cruising, but were bound to a port where me and Mr.
Wallis and Charlie here could strike a ship going to Australia, it would
be different.'
The master of the whaler jumped to his feet. 'But I'm not cruising
exactly, William. I'm going to make Fotuna to heave the barque down and
try and get at the leak, and pick up some hands in place of those I've
lost; then I'm going to Samoa to land a couple of passengers (I'll tell
you all about them presently), and at Samoa you and this young man can
get a passage to either Sydney or New Zealand easy enough. You'll reach
Australia from Samoa just as quick as you can from Fiji. Come, William,
just study it out. I do want that boat of yours real bad. I haven't one
I can lower, if we raise a whale. And a boat may mean a lot to me
between here and Samoa.'
Bill looked at Tom, and Tom at Bill. The skipper's anxious face
appealed to them both.
'I think we can get to Sydney sooner by going on to Fiji, Captain
Herrendeen,' said Bill, bluntly; 'there is more chance of a Sydney ship
to be met with there than in Samoa. But if Mr. Wallis is willing for us
to----'
As he was speaking, one of the cabin doors on the port side opened, and
a woman's soft voice said--
'Can I help in any way, Captain Herrendeen? Solepa tells me that you
have picked up a boat with some shipwrecked men. I was fast asleep.
Shall I dress and come out?'
The captain got up out of his seat and went to the door.
'Don't you worry, Mrs. Casalle; the men are all right. Good night.'
With eyes gleaming with excitement, Tom sprang to the captain's side
just as the door was shut.
'Casalle, Mrs. Casalle! Did you say _Casalle_, sir,' he said, 'of the
Bandolier?'
'Yes, Casalle, that is the lady's name. She and her servant are my
passengers. Her husband's ship was the Bandolier, and ran on to
Middleton Reef, and nearly all hands were lost----'
'No, they were not!' Tom shouted. 'Captain Casalle and a lot of his men
and his little girl came to Port Kooringa in a boat. _I saw_ them; _I
saw them_, captain, I tell you! They came to our house. They----'
Herrendeen raised his hand tremblingly. 'Steady, my boy, steady, for
God's sake! She's a poor little weak sort of thing, and this news might
kill her right out. Are you certain?'
'I am certain, captain,' replied Tom, with an irrepressible sob of joy;
'I am certain--Captain Casalle! the Bandolier! and all the rest of it!
There can be no mistake. He told Foster and I that his wife was drowned
with the second mate, two men, and a Samoan girl.'
Captain Herrendeen's voice quavered as he put out his hand to Tom.
'Say, let us tell it to her quietly. William, and you, mister, just go
on deck awhile.'
The Maori and Charlie at once went on deck, and left Tom and Captain
Herrendeen alone. The captain sat down with his hand to his brow for a
minute or so, and then looked at Tom with a strange smile on his face.
'I've been dreaming, my boy; but it's all ended now, and I'm glad, real
glad.'
He rose from his seat and tapped gently at the cabin door from which the
woman's voice had issued.
'Mrs. Casalle,' he called softly, 'will you dress and come out? I have
some real, downright good news for you.'
'Good news, Captain Herrendeen,' said the same musical voice Tom had
heard before; 'I think I know what it is--you have found the leak, and
we are bearing away for Samoa.'
'Better than that, Mrs. Casalle,' said the captain, turning to Tom, with
a smile; 'just you come out, quick.'
There was a murmur of two female voices; then the cabin door opened, and
a slenderly-built, pale-faced, dark-haired woman came out, followed by a
young native girl.
'What is your good news, Captain Herrendeen?' she said, with a faint
smile, as she bowed to Tom, who, boy-like, was too confused to speak for
the moment.
'Sit down here, Mrs. Casalle,' and the captain led her to a seat. 'This
young man here will tell you something that will do your heart good,
something--now just you sit here beside me; and there ... hold on. Now,
young fellow----'
Tom, trying to conceal his nervousness, and yet look dignified at the
same time, came forward and took her hand.
'Mrs. Casalle, I am Tom Wallis. Captain Casalle and your little girl
are safe. They came to Port Kooringa in one of the boats belonging to
the Bandolier.'
She looked at him in a half-dazed sort of way, and then fainted off
quietly into Captain Herrendeen's arms.
'She'll be all right presently,' said the captain. 'Here, bear a hand,
Solepa. I guess you know what to do better than me.'
'Oh yes, I know, I know,' answered the native girl, quickly; 'she have
faint like this plenty of time. You can go, sir. She will soon get
better now with me.'
Leaving Mrs. Casalle with her attendant, the captain returned to the
main cabin.
'Now, Mr. Wallis, you'll have to sit up and keep me company for an hour
or two, until the poor little woman feels better; steward, get a spare
bunk ready for Mr. Chester; and let the red-haired man turn in here
until breakfast time.'
'You have made up your mind that we're going to Fotuna with you, then,
captain?' said Tom, with a smile.
'Of course I have; and of course you have, too? Come, a day or two won't
matter much to you, and during that time I'll have talked you round, and
get you to come on to Samoa with me. You have just saved the little
woman's life, and she'll want to talk to you for about a week, anyway.
Come, promise me.'
Neither Tom nor Bill could refuse such a request, and then presently the
captain, putting his hand on the former's shoulder, asked him if he was
too tired to tell him about the rescue of the captain of the Bandolier.
'Not a bit,' answered Tom; 'and then I want to know how Mrs. Casalle was
saved. I heard her husband say that she, the second mate, two seamen,
and the nurse were all drowned.'
'Only one hand was drowned. Mrs. Casalle, the second mate, the Samoan
girl, and the other sailor managed to cling on to the swamped boat,
which they succeeded in clearing of water after a while. They drifted
about all night, and about seven o'clock in the morning found themselves
quite close to Elizabeth Reef. They had no oars, but by breaking up the
bottom boards of the boat they managed to get on shore, lived there on
birds' eggs for nearly a week, and there I found them. Then I sailed to
and examined Middleton Reef, but found no trace of any other survivors.
She and the girl have been with me ever since, waiting to get back to
Samoa; the second mate and men are with me, too.'
At sunrise Solepa, the native girl, whose brown face was radiant with
smiles, came on deck.
'If you please, captain, will dis gentleman come now and talk to her?
She is better.'
Tom went below, and found Mrs. Casalle waiting for him. She was deathly
pale, but tried hard to speak calmly.
'You are sure, quite sure,' she said tremblingly, as she grasped Tom's
hand convulsively; 'my husband and my child! You saw them?'
Pitying her intensely, Tom told her the whole story. She did not faint
again--only laid her head on Solepa's bosom and wept tears of joy and
thankfulness.
Just as Tom rose to leave her, the native girl beckoned him to come
back.
'Did you see any Samoa men in that boat, sir?' she asked quietly. 'I
did have my brother on board. His name was Salu. I 'fraid he was
drown'.'
'There were thirteen men in the boat,' said Tom, 'but I cannot tell you
if any of them were Samoans. There were only three or four white men,
though; so very likely your brother was there. I hope so,' he added
kindly.
Solepa smiled sadly. 'I hope so. But if he is drown' I will not cry no
more now, for we shall see the captain and little Nita again.'