It was satisfactory to be once more at liberty, but a voyage in an open
boat across the Caribbean Sea, when it was possible that we might have
to encounter another hurricane, was not altogether an exploit we should
have undertaken if we had had our choice. However, as we had plenty of
provisions and enough water, we had no reason to complain. We found,
indeed, on looking over our stores to select some food for our dinner,
that there were a dozen of claret and six bottles of brandy.
"Really, that fellow Preville is a trump," I exclaimed, as I poured out
a glass of the former, and handed it to McAllister. "We'll drink his
health, for he deserves it. Come, rouse up, my boy. It's good liquor;
you'll not deny that."
"I'll drink his health and long life to him, that we may have a better
chance of meeting together in mortal combat," answered my messmate,
gloomily. "To have our hard-won prize stolen out of our hands in this
way--it's more than I can bear. And to have to make our appearance on
board the frigate without our vessel, and to report the loss of poor
Perigal and the others, is even worse."
I did my best to rouse up McAllister, and to make him see matters in a
more cheerful light, but it was no easy matter. He was ever dwelling on
the fact that the prize had been placed under his charge, and that he
had lost her. I was sometimes almost afraid that, if not watched at
night, he would be jumping overboard, so gloomy did he become. Bambrick
entertained the same idea also, I suspected, and I was glad to see that
he watched him narrowly. We also did our best to amuse him, and I got
the men to sing songs and spin yarns from morning till night. Only one
story told by Ned Bambrick seemed to afford him much amusement.
"You must know, sir, when I was paid off during the last peace, I joined
a South Sea whaler. You've heard tell of Botany Bay. Well, that's
nowhere, or that's to say, it is not the place where they send
prisoners. But there's a fine harbour near it, which they call Port
Jackson, and up it there's a town which they call the Camp, but which
has now got the name of Sydney. It's what they call a colony, that's to
say, a good number of people of all sorts, besides convicts, goes out
there, and they've a governor set over them, who rules the land just
like any king. He's a right, real sort of a governor, to my mind, for
he makes the laws and sees that they are obeyed, too. He won't stand no
nonsense, and though he doesn't wear a wig and gown, like the judges at
home, he sits in a court, and tries all them who doesn't do what they
ought. He hears both parties, and, when they've done, he sings out,
`Haul in the slack of your jaw-tackle, and belay all that,' and then he
goes for to say what each party must do, and he won't hear a word more
from either of them. Well, as I was a saying, I joined a South Sea
whaler. I can't say as how I had a pleasant time aboard, but it was
better than others had. Our captain was one of them chaps as always
does what they choose, and he pretty often chose to do what was very
bad. He had a quarrel with the doctor of the ship, who was a very
decent, well-behaved young man, and not wanting in spirit. Their
disputes went on from bad to worse, so what does he do one day, but call
four or five hands aft, fellows always ready to do any dirty work for a
glass of grog, and getting hold of the poor doctor, clap him into one of
the hen-coops. `Now,' says he, `you'll stay there till you beg my
pardon.' `I'll never beg your pardon,' says the doctor. `I'll see if I
can't make you,' says the captain. Well, would you believe it? the
captain kept the poor doctor in there, day after day, and always took
his meals to him himself, cut up into little bits so that he could eat
them with a spoon. When he put in the plate, he always used to sing
out, `Coopity! coopity! coopity!' just as he would have done if he was
feeding the fowls. It aggravated the poor doctor, but he couldn't help
himself. No one dared to speak to the captain, who always walked about
with a brace of pistols in his belt, and swore he'd shoot any one who
interfered with him. You may be sure I and others felt for the doctor
when the savage used to go to him, with a grin on his face, and sing
out, `Coopity! coopity! coopity!' The doctor would have been starved if
he hadn't taken the food when the captain brought it him, with his
`Coopity! coopity! coopity!'
"At last one day, the doctor wouldn't stand it any longer; so says he,
`If you don't let me out of this, I'll make you sing out "Coopity!
coopity!" from the other side of your mouth; so look out.' The captain
laughed at him, and went on as before. However, we had to put into Port
Jackson to refit, and it came to the ears of the governor that our
skipper had a man shut up in a hen-coop; so he sent some soldiers
aboard, and had the doctor taken out and brought ashore. Then there was
a regular trial, and the governor heard what the doctor had to say, and
the skipper and we had to say, and then he says, `I decide that you,
Captain Crowfoot, shall pay Dr McGrath two hundred golden guineas
before you leave this court.' The captain, with many wry faces, began
to make all sorts of excuses, but the governor wouldn't listen to one of
them, and Captain Crowfoot had to get a merchant to hand him out two
bags of guineas. `Count them, captain, count them,' says the governor;
and as the skipper counted them out on the table, the doctor stood by
with another bag, and, as he swept them in with his hand, he kept
singing out `Coopity! coopity! coopity!' Really it was pleasant to hear
the doctor go on with his `Coopity! coopity! coopity!' Everybody in the
court laughed, and, I believe you, the skipper was glad enough to get
away when he had counted out all his money, and there was a regular
cheer of `Coopity! coopity! coopity!' as he rushed out of the court." I
had not seen McAllister laugh since we had lost the prize. He now gave
way to a hearty peal, exclaiming, "Ha! ha! ha! I'll make the French
lieutenant sing out `Coopity! coopity! coopity!' before the world is
many years older."
I need not describe all that occurred in the boat. We made fair way
while the wind continued fair, and the weather favourable, but Jamaica
still seemed a long distance off. It is a large island however, so that
there was not much chance of our missing it. Four days had passed since
we left the Audacieuse, when about midnight the wind suddenly shifted to
the northward, and, what was worse, it came on to blow very hard. We
closely reefed our sail, and hove-to, but the seas constantly broke over
us, and we were obliged to keep two hands baling, or we should have been
swamped. It was bad enough as it was, but it might come on worse, and
then, would the boat swim? That was a question. That was a dreary
night. The rain came down too--as it knows well how to do in the
tropics. We had no want of water, but we unwisely neglected to fill our
casks. Expecting to make a quick run, we had not stinted ourselves in
the use of water. Of course the boat all this time was drifting to
leeward, and we were losing all the distance we had made good during the
last day or so; if the gale continued we should lose still more. At
last daylight came, but the wind blew as hard as ever--half a gale at
all events. Two whole days more it blew. At last it ceased, but it
left us a hundred miles nearly further from our destination than when it
commenced. This was bad enough, but though there was little of it
remaining, that little was in our teeth. We however hauled our wind,
and tried to beat up. When the sea went down we got the oars out, and,
lowering the sails, pulled head to wind. It was greatly trying to the
men, to know that after toiling away for hours, the entire distance
gained might be lost in a quarter of the time. Still, as British seamen
always do, they persevered. McAllister and I took our turn at the oars
with the rest. For several days we laboured thus. The prospect of a
quick run to Jamaica was over. Our provisions were running short--our
water was almost expended. Hunger and thirst began to stare us in the
face--things apt not only to stare people out of countenance, but out of
their good looks. We at once went on short allowance, which grew
shorter and shorter. As we gazed on each other's faces, we saw how
haggard our shipmates had become, each person scarcely aware of his own
emaciated appearance. At last we had not a drop of water remaining.
Jamaica might still be a week's sail off, under favourable
circumstances. The thirst we now endured was far worse than hunger, in
that climate, with a hot sun burning down on our heads all day. Our
throats got hotter and more parched every hour; we drew in our belts,
and that silenced the cravings of hunger for a time, and we had some few
bits of biscuit, and ham, and chocolate, but nothing we could do could
allay our thirst. We dipped our faces in water, and kept applying our
wet handkerchiefs to our mouths and eyes. We got most relief from
breathing through our wet handkerchiefs; but it was only transient; the
fever within burned as fiercely as ever. We had to work at the oars,
when we could not keep our handkerchiefs wet. McAllister, like a brave
fellow as he was, aroused himself, and endeavoured to encourage us to
persevere. He especially warned the men against drinking salt water,
telling them that it would be downright suicide, and that they might as
well jump overboard and be drowned at once. We were certainly making
way, and every hour lessening our distance to Jamaica. Again our hopes
were raised. We had a few scraps of food to support life for two days
more; but it was the water we wanted. I felt that I could not hold out
another twenty-four hours. I must have water or die. The wind,
however, came fair; we made sail, and ran merrily over the water--at
least the boat did. Our feelings were heavy enough. Still I must say
that we did our best to keep up each other's courage. Again the wind
fell. It shifted. We might be driven back, and lose all the way we had
gained. Dark clouds gathered--the feeling of the air changed. "Get the
sail spread out flat, and the buckets, and cask, and mugs ready, boys,"
cried McAllister, "Open your mouths."
Scarcely had he spoken, when down came the rain. Oh, how delicious were
the cool streams which flowed down our parched throats, and washed the
salt from our faces. As the sail caught it, we let it run off into the
receptacles we had prepared. Mugful after mugful we drained. We filled
our cask and buckets. The rain ceased just as we had done so, and then
it fell a dead calm. But we all felt refreshed and invigorated. New
life seemed put into us, and the dry morsels of biscuit and ham, which
we before could not swallow, were eaten with a relish. This deliverance
from immediate death gave us hope; but still we might have again to
encounter all the difficulties we had before gone through, before
reaching land. Could we possibly survive them? I had often read of
similar adventures and sufferings, and had been so much interested and
amused, that I had felt considerably obliged to those who had gone
through them, and really felt that I should like to have been with them;
but I found the reality very different indeed. The terrible reality was
presented to me with the gilding off--the romance vanished. My great
wish was to escape from my present position. I have no doubt that all
my companions felt with me.
The oars were again got out, and slowly we pulled to the northward. It
was soon evident, however, that our strength was totally unequal to the
task. One after the other the oars dropped from the men's feeble grasp.
It was terrible to see strong men thus reduced to weakness. The calm
continued. Even I began to despair. A dizziness came over me. I was
nearly sinking to the bottom of the boat, but I resisted the impulse by
a strong effort. "I'll not give in while life and sense remain." I
fancied that I felt a puff of air on my cheek. I wetted my finger, and
held it up. There was no doubt about it. A breeze was coming from the
southward. I stood up as well as I was able, and looked astern for the
expected blue line in the horizon. My heart leaped within me when my
eye fell on the white sails of a vessel coming fast up with us. I
shouted out the joyous news. My companions lifted up their heads, some
scarcely understanding what I said. McAllister, who had been asleep,
started up, and, with his hand over his eyes, gazed anxiously at the
stranger. Bambrick, with a strength which surprised me, leaped up on
the thwart, holding on by the mast, and, after looking for some time, he
exclaimed, "She's the Espoir, as sure as my name is Ned Bambrick."
"The Espoir went down in the hurricane, and this craft is only some
phantom come to delude and mock us," muttered McAllister, gloomily.
"Nonsense! you don't believe in such stuff," I exclaimed. "If yonder
craft is the Espoir, it's plain the Espoir did not go down in the
hurricane; and if the Espoir did go down in the hurricane, it is equally
plain that the vessel in sight is not she."
"No, no, yonder craft is but a mocking phantom. I'm destined never to
see my bonnie home and fair Scotland again," he answered, in a low
voice, speaking more to himself than to me.
There was no use in then contradicting him. Half an hour or less would,
I hoped, show that the stranger astern was a real palpable vessel, with
human beings on board who would relieve our distress, and no phantom
craft. Poor McAllister sank down in the stern-sheets again through
weakness, but continued to gaze at the stranger, as we all did, with our
eyeballs almost starting, in our eagerness, from their sockets.
The stranger proved to be a schooner; and, as she approached, she
appeared to be more and more like the Espoir. There was at length no
doubt about it, but McAllister still shook his head, muttering "A
phantom--a phantom--but very like the craft--there's na doubt about
that." I do not know what he might have thought when the schooner
shortened sail, and glided up slowly alongside our boat. There were
Perigal, and Grey, and Macquoid, and Bobus, and others, looking at us
over the bulwarks. They must have known us by our uniforms to be
English, but they had no idea we were their own shipmates. I guessed
this by hearing Macquoid say to Bobus--
"Who can they be? Some poor fellows whose vessel must have gone down in
the hurricane."
"Hand them up carefully, now," said Perigal to the men who descended
into the boat.
We were all soon lifted on deck, for we were utterly unable to help
ourselves, and we had positively to say who we were before we were
recognised.
The foremost to rush forward and welcome me was Toby Bluff; and,
forgetful of all the proprieties of the quarter-deck, he was very nearly
throwing his arms round me and giving me a hearty hug, so overcome was
he with joy at having the young squire restored to him.
"Oh! Measter Merry, they will be main glad at the Hall when they learns
that after all you didn't go down in that mighty terrible hurricane we
had t'other day," he exclaimed. "I'd never have gone back to see them--
that I wouldn't--I could have never faced them without the young
measter!"
Warm and sincere, indeed, were the congratulations of all our friends.
Macquoid at once took charge of us--ordered us all into our hammocks,
and would not allow us to swallow more than the most moderate quantity
of food, nor to listen nor talk. Owing to his judicious management, we
all speedily got round, with the exception of McAllister, who had been
the last to give in. His spirit and moral courage had supported him,
till at length his physical powers yielded to his sufferings.
We carried on the breeze till we sighted Jamaica. Of course Perigal was
very much vexed at hearing of the loss of the prize, but he did not
blame McAllister, though, as he observed, it would have been wiser had
we not placed so much confidence in our agreeable and plausible
prisoner. The Espoir had lost sight of us in the hurricane from the
first, and apprehensions for our safety had till now been entertained,
and so our friends looked upon us as happily restored to them from the
dead, and were not inclined to find undue fault with us. We found that
they had been placed in even greater danger than we had, and had
suffered more damage, but finally they were enabled to take shelter
under an island more to the south than the one we gained. Here they
remained for some time to refit, and thus were brought to our rescue
just in time to preserve us from destruction. We were all tolerably
recovered and presentable by the time we entered Port Royal harbour.
Here we found the frigate almost ready for sea, and, to our
satisfaction, Spellman with our first prize had arrived safely. Among
those who most cordially welcomed me was Mr Johnson, the boatswain.
"We felt that hurricane even here, Mr Merry; and, thinking you might
feel it too, I was anything but happy about you," he observed, shaking
me by the hand. "I was once out in just such another--only it blew a
precious deal harder. Some of our hands had their pigtails carried
away, and two or three fellows who kept their mouths open had their
teeth blown down their throats. It was the gale when the Thunderer and
so many others of His Majesty's ships went down. You've heard of it, I
dare say?"
I told him that I had read about it in a naval history we had on board,
but that the account of the pigtails and teeth was not given.
"No, I dare say not; historians seldom enter as they ought into
particulars," he answered, laughing.
Grey received an equally friendly welcome from Mr Johnson, with whom he
was as great a favourite as I was. He made us give him an account of
all our adventures, and amused himself with quizzing me, without
ceasing, at having been so tricked by the French lieutenant. I
believed, and do to this day, that Preville was civil and light-hearted
from nature, and that it was only when he found us off guard that the
idea of seizing the vessel occurred to him.
McAllister did not get off as easily as I did. Wherever he went he was
quizzed for having been tricked by the Frenchman and losing his prize.
He unfortunately could not stand quizzing, and, taking what was said too
seriously, he became at times quite sulky and morose.
As the Doris had no hands to spare, the tender was laid up, and once
more the frigate put to sea in search of the enemies of our country. We
knew that several of their frigates were at sea, and we hoped to fall in
with one of them. If we missed them, we were not likely to object to
pick up a few rich merchantmen.
Soon after I rejoined, I was invited to the gun-room to give an account
of my adventures on board the Audacieuse. Thinking he was going to be
quizzed McAllister would not say a word on the subject. I was not so
particular, and amused the officers very much with an account of the way
in which the polite lieutenant used to dress our dinners for us, and
used to sing and play for our amusement. Mr Fitzgerald seemed highly
entertained.
"He must be a broth of a boy, indeed! If we ever catch him, we'll make
him dress our dinners," he exclaimed, laughing.
He was himself stranger than ever, and, with his curious performances, I
used to wonder how he managed not to get into more scrapes than he did.
Our captain was much of the same opinion, for I heard him remark that he
really was glad to get to sea, for fear Mr Fitzgerald should do
something to bring himself into difficulty on shore. The words were
reported to Mr Fitzgerald, who remarked--
"Och! where there's a will there's a way. We'll see what we can do,
even out here on the big salt sea!"
Not long after this, during a light breeze, we chased a vessel to the
southward. We came up with her hand over hand. When, however, we were
about five miles off, it fell a dead calm. What she was we could not
ascertain, though she did not look like an armed vessel. It was
necessary to overhaul her, so Mr Fitzgerald volunteered to take the gig
and six hands to board her, and Grey and I got leave to accompany him.
We had a hot pull, the sun coming down full on our heads, and as we had
come away without any water, the men were anxious to get on board the
stranger, that they might quench their thirst. She was rigged as a
barque, and she proved as we guessed; she was a Yankee, and a neutral.
Though undoubtedly laden with stores for our enemies, we could not touch
her. Her skipper was very civil, and invited us into the cabin, where a
fine display of decanters and tumblers gave promise of good cheer, in
which we were not disappointed. Mr Fitzgerald was soon deep in the
mysteries of cocktail and similar mixtures. He seemed to enjoy them
amazingly, for he quaffed tumbler after tumbler, till I began to fear
that he was getting rather too deep into the subject. Grey and I took
our share, but we both of us were from inclination very temperate.
Independent of other considerations, I have always held that a splitting
headache, and the risk of getting into trouble, was a high price to pay
for the pleasure of tickling one's palate, or artificially raising one's
spirits for a short time. The men were hospitably entertained forward,
one or two of them finding old messmates; indeed American vessels at
that period were manned principally with English seamen. We remained on
board altogether much longer than we ought to have done, but at last Mr
Fitzgerald, looking at his watch, jumped up, exclaiming that he must be
off. We thanked the skipper for his civility, and, not without
difficulty, getting the men into the boat, away we pulled towards the
frigate. The men were all high in praise of the Yankees, and I have no
doubt that they were all put up to run from the ship at the first
American port at which they might touch.
The calm still continued, and from the lazy way in which the men pulled,
it was clear that they were in no hurry to get on board. Grey and I, of
course, were not; indeed Mr Fitzgerald, who was in great spirits, kept
us highly amused by his stories, so full of racy humour. Our movements
were, however, considerably expedited by the report of a gun from the
frigate, as a signal for us immediately to return. The men now bent to
their oars, and gave way in earnest. We had not pulled far, however,
when another puff of smoke was seen to burst forth from the frigate's
side, followed by the report of the gun, which came booming over the
smooth ocean.
"Och! the skipper's in a mighty hurry," muttered the lieutenant to
himself. "We are making all the haste flesh and blood is capable of,
with the sun boiling up our marrow at this rate."
"Give way, lads, give way," he shouted aloud. "The captain is in a
hurry, for there's something in the wind, depend on that."
We were, I suspect, so completely in a position under the sun, as
observed from the frigate, that we could not be seen. Presently the
report of another gun struck our ears. On this Mr Fitzgerald seemed to
lose all patience.
"Hand me an oar and a boat-hook," he exclaimed, "and some rope-yarn."
What was our surprise to see him strip off his trousers, and make the
waistband fast to the boat-hook, which he secured for a yard across the
blade of an oar stepped upright as a mast. Having secured some pieces
of rope-yarn to the legs of his unmentionables, he stood up and began
blowing away with might and main into the upper portions, stopping every
now and then to gain breath, and to shout, "Give way, lads, with a
will--give way like troopers--give way, ye hardy sons of Neptune, or of
sea-cooks, if you prefer the appellation. Give way like Tritons. We
are doing all that men can do. Who dare say we can do more? But we
must not stop to talk." Then, once more filling out his cheeks, he
began to blow and puff with might and main as before.
Grey and I, though not a little shocked, were convulsed with laughter;
so of course were the men, whose countenances, as they bent to their
oars, were wreathed in the broadest of broad grins, while shouts of
scarce suppressed laughter burst ever and anon from their throats.
"Faith, the captain can't say it's my fault if we don't get aboard in
time. I've done all that any officer in His Majesty's service could do
to expedite matters, at all events," he observed at length, stopping to
draw breath.
"And more than most officers would dream of doing, Mr Fitzgerald," I
answered, quietly, really fearing that he had gone mad.
"Och, yes, I was always celebrated for my zeal," he answered. "There's
nothing like zeal, Mr Merry. When my Lords Commissioners of the
Admiralty think fit to promote one of their own nephews over the heads
of any lot of us poor fellows who don't happen to have any interest in
high quarters, it's always on account of zeal--they are such very
zealous and promising young men. They don't say what they promise. I
could never learn that. I once posed the First Lord by simply asking
the question. I went up just to ask for my promotion--for there's
nothing like asking, you know, youngsters. The First Lord received me
with wonderful civility. He took me for another Fitzgerald, and I was
fool enough to tell him which I really was, or I believe he would have
handed me out my commission and appointment to a fine brig I had in my
eye, there and then. I saw by his change of countenance that I had made
a mistake, and, as I was in for it, I determined not to be abashed.
With the blandest of smiles he remarked, `Undoubtedly, Mr Fitzgerald, I
will keep you in sight, but I have on my list so many zealous and
promising young officers, that I fear you will have some time to wait.'
His cold eye told me he'd do nothing for me, so says I, `My lord, I
should just like to have an example of this zeal, that I may learn to
imitate it; but as to promises, faith, my lord, I should like to see any
man who can beat me at making them.' I put on a face as I spoke, and he
couldn't help laughing, but he told me, when I made my bow, that I might
be sure he wouldn't forget me. Whether he has or has not, I can't say;
but here am I, a descendant of Brian Boroo, and I don't know how many
kings and queens of ould Ireland besides, nothing but a humble
lieutenant, standing with my breeches off, and endeavouring to fill this
epitome of a boat's sail with all the wind in my mortal body. I must
stop talking, though, youngsters; it's setting you a bad example," and
he began to puff away again.
We were now drawing so near the frigate that I felt sure, if any glasses
were turned towards us, his extraordinary condition could be seen. I
was anxious to prevent his getting into disgrace, so I asked--
"Wouldn't it be better, sir, if you were to put on your breeches, and
let the men pull up alongside in proper style?"
"What, youngster, and lose this magnificent opportunity of exhibiting my
zeal?" he exclaimed, indignantly. "I shall request the captain to write
an official letter to the Admiralty, that a proper record may be made of
it."
"But Grey and I will bear witness to the truth of your statement, if you
think fit, to-morrow, to make a report of the proceeding," I observed.
"You must allow, sir, that officers do not generally come alongside a
ship with their breeches off, though of course it is very laudable to
make use of them as a boat's sail, or in any other way, for the good of
the service; but, if you have any enemies, a wrong construction may be
put on the matter."
He did not appear to be listening to what I was saying, but continued
puffing out his cheeks and blowing as before. As I was steering, I told
Grey to look through the telescope we had with us at the ship.
"I see several glasses turned this way," he answered, "and there are
numbers of men in the rigging."
I made no remark, but Mr Fitzgerald soon afterwards lowered the oar,
and, without saying anything, quietly put on his breeches. We were soon
alongside; the boat was hoisted in, and a light breeze having sprung up,
which had long been seen coming, all sail was made in chase of a vessel
to the eastward.
Mr Fitzgerald then made his report.
"You seemed to be carrying some sail," observed the captain. "You had
but little wind, though, to make it of use."
"There was all the wind I could make," blurted out the lieutenant, who
had now got sober, and was as much ashamed of himself as it was in his
nature to be. "However, Captain Collyer, you know my zeal for the
service, and there isn't a thing I wouldn't do for its good."
"Even to make use of your breeches as a sail, and compelling your mouth
to do duty as _Molus_," said the captain, gravely. "However, Mr
Fitzgerald, though I never like making mountains of molehills, don't let
your zeal, or your love of a joke, carry you so far again. Discipline
would quickly vanish if the officers were to forget their dignity, as
you did just now. No officer should ever appear in public without his
breeches."
"I'll make a note of that, Captain Collyer, and take care that it never
again occurs," answered Mr Fitzgerald, with inimitable gravity, but
with an expression on his comical features which made our good-natured
skipper almost burst into a fit of laughter.
Two or three nights after this, while it was Mr Fitzgerald's watch, in
which I was placed, it being very dark, the frigate, without any
warning, was struck by a heavy squall, which threw her in an instant on
her beam ends. I thought that she was going down. There was a loud
crash--the fore-topmast had gone over the side. Lightning flashed from
the sky; the thunder roared. A loud clap was heard overhead--the
main-topsail had split, and, rent in fragments, was carried out of the
bolt-ropes, lashing itself in fury round the yard. All seemed
confusion. Everybody on the first crash had rushed on deck, mostly in
very scanty costume. The captain had slipped on his coat, which, with
his shirt and slippers, formed his costume. There he stood, his shirt
tails fluttering in the breeze, while with his deep-toned voice he was
bringing order out of seeming chaos. When the main-topsail went the
frigate righted. We had work enough to do to clear the wreck of the
fore-topmast and all its hamper, and it was broad daylight before the
captain could leave the deck. When the ship was put a little to rights,
and those officers who had appeared in limited costume had gone below to
don the usual amount of dress, Mr Fitzgerald walked up to Mr Bryan,
the first-lieutenant, and said--
"I wish, Bryan, that you would ascertain what are and what are not the
regulations of this ship. Two days ago the captain told me that it was
against his express orders that any officers should appear on the
quarter-deck without their breeches, and now he appears himself without
his, and so do Haisleden and the master, and some other fellows
besides."
"There are some occasions when it does not do to stick at trifles,"
answered Mr Bryan, who found it very necessary to humour his eccentric
brother officer.
"Well, at all events, the captain cannot find fault with me after that,"
said the second lieutenant; "I am always saying the same--I never stick
at trifles."
"No, indeed you do not; but sometimes it is just as well to look at
them, and ascertain if they are trifles," observed Mr Bryan.
It was found that the frigate had received so much damage that it was
necessary to put back to Port Royal. It was a matter of very little
consequence to us midshipmen. We were chiefly interested because we
knew that we should get a supply of fresh meat and vegetables, which we
preferred to the salt pork and weevilly biscuits served out to the navy
in those days, and for very many days later; indeed, where is the naval
officer, under the rank of a commander, or I may say a lieutenant, who
does not tap every bit of biscuit on the table before he puts it into
his mouth? He taps mechanically now, but he learned the habit when it
was necessary to knock out the weevils.
We soon had the ship as much to rights as circumstances would allow. In
the evening Grey and I went below, and found the boatswain seated on a
stool in his cabin, with his legs stretched out at full length before
him.
"Ah, young gentlemen, I know what you've come for," he exclaimed when he
saw us. "You're curious to hear some more of my yarns. It's natural,
and I'll not baulk you. There's one thing you may depend on, it will be
a long time before I shall spin them all out. You needn't tell me where
I left off. I was telling you about my pet shark and the dreadful event
connected with it. It's a warning to people not to have pet sharks, as
you'll say when you hear more. But come in, young gentlemen, and make
yourselves comfortable. Ah, Mr Gogles, I'm glad to see you here;
you've not heard any of my veracious narrative, but now you shall hear
something to astonish you, I guess."
Gogles was a young midshipman, the son of a planter at Jamaica, who had
joined us when we were last there. His countenance exhibited a large
capacity for imbibing the wonderful and improbable, a fact which had not
escaped Mr Johnson's acute observation.
By the time Toby Bluff had brought the boatswain his usual evening glass
of grog, and he had cleared his throat, and, as he remarked, brought up
his thoughts from the store-lockers of memory, a large audience was
collected in and outside the cabin.
"Listen then, and let no one doubt me," continued Mr Johnson. "I told
you the Lady Stiggins was bound round Cape Horn. We were running down
the coast of America, when somewhere to the southward of the latitude of
Demerara it came on to blow very hard from the north and west. The
clouds came rushing along the sky like a mass of people all hurrying to
see the king open parliament, or a clown throw a summersault at a fair,
or anything of that sort, while the wind howled and screeched in the
rigging as I have heard wild beasts in the woods in Africa, and the sea
got up and tumbled and rolled as if the waves were dancing for their
very lives. You need not believe it, but the foam flew from them so
thick that it actually lifted the ship at times out of the water. We
had sent down our topgallant yards, and had just furled the courses, and
were in the act of lowering our main-topsail to reef it close, when a
squall, more heavy than before, came right down upon us. I was at the
helm at the time, and heard it roaring up astern. The main-topsail yard
had just reached the cap, and the fore-topsail was the only sail showing
to the breeze. The blast struck us; a clap, as if of thunder, was
heard, and away flew our fore-topsail clean out of the bolt-ropes, and
clear of everything. Off it flew, right away to leeward, down upon the
breeze. I kept my eye on it, and observed that instead of sinking, from
the strength and buoyant power of the wind, it retained precisely the
same elevation above the sea that it had done when spread to the yard.
I did not mention the circumstance to anyone, but took care not to lose
sight of the sail. This was a hint to us not to set more canvas, so the
main-topsail was furled, and away we scudded, under bare poles, right in
the wake of the fore-topsail. Instead of abating, the wind increased
till it blew a perfect hurricane. I, however, kept at the helm, and
explaining to the captain the occurrence I had observed, begged to be
allowed to remain there. At first he would scarcely believe me, and
declared that it was a white cloud ahead of us, but I was so positive,
that at last he let me have my way. Well, we steered straight on all
that day, and when night approached I took the bearings of the sail that
we might follow it as before. The wind did not vary, and in the morning
there it was, exactly in its former position, only I think we had gained
a little on it. On, on we ran, tearing rather over than through the
foaming ocean, but still we did not come up with the fail. At last I
was obliged, from very weariness, to let a careful hand relieve me at
the helm, and, desiring to be called if we neared the sail, I turned in
and went to sleep. Now you will want to know, young gentlemen, why I
was so anxious to come up with the sail? The fact is that I had taken a
notion into my head, which I will tell you presently. Well, I was so
weary that I slept for five-and-twenty hours without turning, and I
could scarcely believe that I had been in my hammock more than an hour,
for when I came on deck everything was exactly as I had left it.
Feeling much refreshed, and having swallowed two dozen of biscuits, a
leg of pork, and a gallon of rum and water, I took the helm, resolved to
carry out my intentions. It wasn't, however, till the next morning,
when the sun broke out from behind the clouds, that it shone directly on
our fore-topsail, now not the eighth of a mile ahead of us. For some
reason or other, which I have never been able satisfactorily to explain,
we were coming rapidly up with it. I now saw that the moment was
approaching for carrying my plan into execution. Accordingly I sent the
people on to the fore-yard, and also on the fore-topsail yard, which was
hoisted right up, some with palm needles and others with earings and
lashings. It was a moment of intense interest. I kept the brig's head
directly for the sail. We approached it rapidly; it was over the
bowsprit end. My eye did not fail me, and, to my inexpressible
satisfaction, we shot directly up to the sail. The men on the yards
instantly secured it, and in five minutes it was again spread aloft as
if it had never left its place. There, young gentlemen, if you ever see
anything done like that, you may open your eyes with astonishment. I
gained some credit for my performance, though there are people, I own,
who do not believe in the fact, which is not surprising, as it isn't
every day in the week that a ship recovers a topsail which has been
blown away in a gale of wind."
There was a considerable amount of cachinnations along the deck outside,
while a gruff voice grunted out, "Well, bo'sun, that is a jolly
crammer;" at which Mr Johnson looked highly indignant, and we were
afraid that he would not continue his narrative, but a glance at
Gogles's deliciously credulous and yet astonished countenance, as he sat
with his eyes and mouth wide open, staring with all his might, seemed
fully to pacify him. I never met a man who enjoyed his own jokes,
though certainly they were of the broadest kind, more thoroughly than
did Mr Johnson.