ROGER GOES ASHORE TO RESCUE A MAROONED MAN, AND IS HIMSELF LEFT IN THE
LURCH.
The days now slipped by uneventfully, and morning after morning broke
without either land or ship making its appearance to break the monotony
of a perfectly clear horizon.
Slipping down the Windward Channel, and sailing on a South-South-West
course, they had left Morant Point, at the eastern end of Jamaica, on
their starboard beam; and after keeping to their South-South-West course
for the five succeeding days, they had turned the vessels' heads to the
East-South-East, intending to sail as far in that direction as La
Guayra, where they hoped to find a plate galleon in the harbour, and
make an attempt to cut her out. Thence they planned to change their
course once more, standing westward along the coast of Venezuela,
crossing the Gulf of Darien, the Mosquito Gulf, and the Bay of Honduras,
and so up through the Yucatan Channel, leaving the western end of the
island of Cuba on their starboard hand, and into the Gulf of Mexico,
where they intended to cruise for some time, feeling tolerably certain
of picking up a treasure-ship there at any rate, even if they were not
fortunate enough to snap one up whilst cruising on their way.
They could, of course, have reached the Gulf of Mexico much more quickly
by sailing down the Windward Channel and along the southern coast of
Cuba, and by the Yucatan Channel into the gulf; but they had heard of
the treasure-ships that made La Guayra their port of departure, and were
anxious not to miss any of them. Also, they believed that, by taking
the longer course, there would be more likelihood of their falling in
with that most ferocious and bloody pirate, Jose Leirya, as he was
called, or Jose de Leirya, as he loved to call himself--for he was said
to claim descent from a grandee of Spain, although those who knew the
man were well aware that his birth and parentage were obscure.
As has already been related, one of the seamen on board the flag-ship
one night gave some account of the pirate's former doings, and the
discovery that the buried gear found at the Careenage--as Cavendish had
named the spot where the squadron refitted--was the property of the
pirate was proof positive that the scoundrel was still prowling
somewhere in those seas. Likewise, it will be remembered, every man in
the fleet had sworn to do his utmost to bring the villain to justice.
The anxiety, therefore, to catch him was such that officers, even, not
infrequently spent hours at the mast-heads in the hope of seeing his
topgallantsails showing above the horizon. Old Cary--the man who
claimed to possess some knowledge of Leirya--said that when he last
sailed in these seas the pirate was cruising in a schooner of unusual
length, and lying very low in the water, her hull painted black, with a
broad scarlet riband, in which her open gun-ports looked like a number
of gaping mouths, having been built very large to enable the broadside
guns to be trained almost fore and aft. The craft's masts were,
furthermore, said to be of great height, and might be recognised by
their remarkable and excessive rake aft; indeed--so asserted Cary--her
spars were of such extraordinary length, and the vessel herself lay so
very low in the water, that she had the appearance of being perilously
overmasted and topheavy. This appearance, however, Cary explained, was
altogether deceptive. The vessel sat low in the water indeed, but she
was not the shallow craft that she looked; there was more of her below
than above the surface, and she drew a great deal of water for a vessel
of her tonnage. This great draught of water enabled her to carry a
heavy load of ballast, tall masts, and a correspondingly heavy press of
sail; thus she was an enormously fast vessel, and had up till now easily
eluded capture, being able to run away from and out-weather many vessels
more powerful than herself.
In justice to the pirate, however, it must be admitted that he had
seldom been known to run away. His vessel was exceptionally heavily
armed, and, if his antagonist happened to be not very much more powerful
than himself, he invariably stayed and fought the action out, always
succeeding in beating off his opponent, while in many cases he had
captured her. The fate of the unfortunate crews that fell into his
hands was--if his own records were to be credited--not to be dwelt upon;
for he described himself as guilty of the most awful atrocities to men,
women, and even children. The fights, of course, occurred only between
himself and war-vessels; merchant-ships never attempted such an
impossible task as to fight the pirate, and very often seemed too
completely paralysed with terror even to attempt the equally impossible
task of running away!
Such was the vessel that everyone in Cavendish's squadron was so eagerly
looking for, their eagerness being further stimulated by the fact that
the captain had offered as a prize, to the first seaman who sighted her,
the best weapon that should be taken out of her after her capture--
which, of course, all on board considered as absolutely certain, could
they but once succeed in coming up with her; while to the first officer
or gentleman who saw her he offered as reward the best suit of clothing
to be found in her. Such, however, was the eagerness of all hands to
come up with and destroy the vessel, and her rascally crew and leader,
that the lookout would have been just as keenly kept if no reward
whatever had been offered.
But there was a still further stimulus in the not unnatural hope that
Jose Leirya would have on board some, at least, of that vast treasure of
his, with the possession of which he was credited by every man who had
ever heard of him; and visions of much prize-money to spend on their
return to Plymouth were always before the eager eyes of the Englishmen.
Regulating the speed of the whole squadron by that of the slowest ship--
which happened to be the _Tiger_, the rechristened _El Capitan_--the
fleet went slowly to the East-South-East on its appointed course.
In those days, as, of course, it is hardly necessary to remind the
reader, charts were few, and those few were not to be relied upon as
more than approximately accurate.
On the course that the commodore had marked out for his little squadron
they would, according to their chart, fall in with no land until they
made Oruba Island, after which Cavendish intended to steer a course
between the island of Oruba and what is now known as the Paraguena
Peninsula, leaving the other two islands of Curazao and Buen Ayre on his
port hand, and then heading straight for La Guayra.
Several sailors, and one or two officers, among whom were Roger and
Harry, were as usual perched upon the cross-trees, the yards, or at the
mast-heads, on the lookout for the first sight of the infamous Jose
Leirya's schooner, and with no idea whatever of sighting land. So
everybody on deck was much astonished when, on a certain morning, the
cry came down from the masthead of the _Stag Royal_ of "Land ho, bearing
dead ahead!" At the same moment a string of flags fluttered up to the
main truck of the _Tiger_, which was signalling that she also had caught
sight of land of some description.
"What do you make of it, Roger?" shouted Cavendish, for it was Roger's
sharp eyes that had caught the first glimpse of the unexpected land as
he was aloft straining his eyes in a search for the raking masts of Jose
Leirya's craft.
"Well, sir," responded the boy, "it is an island of some kind, a very
small one, and lying low in the water. I can make out what I take to be
a few trees, probably palms, and I think--nay, I am quite sure now--that
I can see a thin column of smoke rising from about the centre of the
island."
"In that case," said Cavendish, turning to Leigh, who was standing at
his elbow trying to catch sight of the land from the level of the deck,
"there is evidently a human being on that island who has seen the sails
of our fleet, and wishes to attract our attention and be taken off. I
suspect there has been a shipwreck there, and very likely there may be
more than one man. Now, I should not at all object to find and take off
a whole crew of shipwrecked seamen--provided that they were English,--
for what with our fight with the Spaniards, that brush with the savages,
and sickness, we have had our crews thinned down very considerably. God
grant that they be not Spaniards; for if they are, and are in distress
there, I must take them off in common humanity--though, were we in like
case, I doubt if they would do the same for us,--and then I shall have
my vessels again lumbered up with a lot of useless fellows until I can
land them somewhere. Moreover, that same landing will be very difficult
now, for we shall not be likely to find down here another place which
will serve our purpose so well as did the Careenage, all these islands
and land hereabouts being already occupied by Spaniards, and we should
be running our own heads into danger in attempting to get rid of them.
Mr Leigh, be good enough to work out our dead-reckoning up to this
hour, and let us see exactly where we are on the chart, for there is no
island or land of any description marked where we are at present
sailing."
Leigh did as the captain had ordered him, and found that the ships were
at that moment in longitude 73 degrees west and latitude 15 degrees
North; so that, going by the chart, there ought not to be any land in
sight for several days at least.
"This particular part of the Caribbean Sea, sir, is not very greatly
frequented by English ships," said Leigh in explanation; "but the
Spaniards, no doubt, know these waters well, and yonder island may
perhaps be laid down on one of their charts."
"Very possibly," answered the skipper; "but we have no Spanish charts.
The next Spaniard we capture, however, we will search for her charts,
which will certainly be of the utmost use to us."
During the foregoing conversation Roger had come down from aloft to
report still further to the captain, and he had overheard the last
remark, which immediately reminded him that he had brought certain
charts away from the cabin of the _Gloria del Mundo_; in fact, Harry and
he had found their cipher concealed in the folds of one of them. He had
intended to give them to his captain, but subsequent stirring events had
driven the idea out of his mind.
Having now recollected them, however, he explained the matter to
Cavendish, and asked if he should bring the charts up on deck.
"By all means," replied the skipper; "let us have them at once, Trevose,
my man."
Roger dived below, and soon reappeared with the charts under his arm.
They were immediately spread open on the deck and overhauled, and all
were found to be of the utmost importance; some papers also being found
among them giving the bearings and soundings of certain secret channels
leading to ports on the South American coast. There were also found
plans of towns and fortresses that would prove of inestimable value to
them. These last were forthwith placed in safety for future reference,
and a chart was presently discovered showing that particular portion of
the ocean upon which they were now sailing; and, sure enough, there was
a small island marked in the precise spot occupied by the one for which
they were heading. There was, in ink, a description of the island--
written, of course, in Spanish,--setting forth that it had been named
"Isla de Corsarios", and that it was, according to English measurements,
two and a half miles long by one mile broad; also that it was
uninhabited. The description, written as a marginal note, further
stated that there was a spring of fresh water on the island, and that
there were palm-trees thereon; that the islet was of sandy soil, and
supported no vegetation beyond the few palms mentioned.
"This, then, explains the matter," said Cavendish. "Evidently it has
been missed by our vessels, but the Dons have located it. I can clearly
see that these charts will be indeed very useful to us."
By this time the island could be made out from the level of the deck, as
also the smoke, which was undoubtedly rising from a signal-fire that had
been lighted on the beach. The ships were, however, not yet near enough
to make out who the inhabitants were, nor how many of them there might
be. Indeed, had it not been for the sight of the smoke, the captain
would have imagined the island to be totally uninhabited, and would not
have thought it worth while to stop thereat; and, but for the fact of
the smoke being observed, this veracious yarn would most probably have
had a very different ending.
All the officers of the ship, including Cavendish, Roger, and Harry,
were now standing in the eyes of the vessel; some had mounted the
bulwarks, and were supporting themselves thereon by holding on to the
rigging, and one and all were shading their eyes with their hands
against the powerful rays of an almost vertical sun, each anxious to
catch the first sight of the man, or men, who had built that signal-fire
on the beach.
In obedience to an order from Cavendish, old Martin, who was credited
with having the sharpest eyes in the ship, went aloft to the
foremast-head, on the lookout, with instructions to let those on deck
know when he first caught sight of the inhabitants of the island.
In about a quarter of an hour they had very perceptibly neared the
shore, which lay very low, and presented, at a closer view, more the
appearance of a mud or sand-bank, with a few dwarfed trees and shrubs
growing thereon, than an island in its accepted sense of the word; and
shortly afterward Martin's voice came down from aloft in accents of
excitement: "I see un, zir; there 'a be. 'Tes only one man, zir, so far
as Ai can mek out, and 'a be a-waving of a red shirt, or zummat laike
that, Ai think, zir."
"Can you only see one man, Martin; or are there any more with him, think
you?" shouted Cavendish.
"Naw, zir," responded the old fellow; "as Ai zay, Ai can only zee one of
'em, and 'e do be a-carryin' on zumthing wonnerful, zir. 'E be
a-jumpin' up an' down, and a-wavin' of his arms laike to one possessed.
Ai expec's as how un belaives us 'aven't zeen un, an' wants to attrac'
our attention."
"Very well, Martin," answered the captain; "stay where you are, man," as
he perceived the old fellow making preparations to descend, "stay where
you are. Keep a sharp lookout, and let me know if anything further
takes place, or if any more men make their appearance.
"I expect, gentlemen," said the captain, turning to the assembled
officers, "that there is only one man there; the others would have
joined him by this time, had there been any more of them. In a way, I
am sorry; for I could very well have done with a great many more men--
always provided, of course, that they had been Englishmen,--for we are,
as you all know, very short-handed. This man is possibly the sole
survivor of a shipwrecked crew; but, as there seems, so far as we can
see at present, to be no trace of others being there, I should be more
inclined to think that he has been marooned. Marooning is, of course, a
very common practice, particularly among pirates, and, in my opinion, it
is one of the most cruel forms of punishment ever conceived by the brain
of man. Now, it has occurred to me as quite within the limits of
possibility that this man ashore there may be a marooned member of the
crew of that scoundrel, Jose Leirya. It would not be so very
extraordinary, after all, if he were. Leirya is practically the only
pirate at present in these seas, and we are all aware that marooning is
practised chiefly among pirates. Should it happen to be as I somewhat
suspect, the man will, at all events, know something worth telling us
about that arch villain; for I shall never be happy until I have hunted
the scoundrel down, and hanged him for the dog he is!"
The captain's face blazed with righteous anger as he spoke, and his
expression was reflected on the countenances of the officers gathered
round him. It boded ill indeed for the pirate if ever the squadron
should fall in with him.
"Send a man into the chains," continued Cavendish, speaking to Roger.
"As the land lies so low in the water, it is not unlikely that the water
round it is very shoal, and I have no wish to get any of the vessels
ashore if I can help it. And order the signalman to signal the rest of
the fleet to keep the lead going."
Roger obeyed, and a leadsman was soon perched in the chains to windward,
busy with his sounding-line to ascertain the depth of water in which
they were then sailing, and to give timely warning if the water should
begin to shoal dangerously.
"Seven fathoms now, sir!" reported Hearst, the leadsman.
"Very well," answered Cavendish; "we are safe as yet," turning to Leigh.
"Let her go through the water."
The other vessels were strung out behind the _Stag Royal_, and they fell
into her wake for their greater safety; for she drew more water than any
of the rest, being a much larger vessel, and where she could go the rest
could follow. They were running along with a fresh breeze on their
starboard beam, and making about six knots an hour. They were therefore
rapidly nearing the island, and could by this time discern the solitary
occupant from the deck. He still continued to wave the red shirt, or
whatever it was, that they had at first seen, and it appeared as though
even now he could scarcely convince himself that he had yet been seen,
although the fleet was heading directly for the island, for he continued
his wild gestures--leaping into the air, and waving his arms like one
possessed.
"Six fathoms!" came the voice of the leadsman from the chains.
"We can stand in some way farther yet," commented Cavendish. "I want to
take the ship in as near as I can, so that the men may not have far to
pull in the boat. Furthermore, gentlemen, by the look of the sky,
methinks that a gale is brewing, and it will be well that the boat get
not too far away from the ship."
"Five and a half fathoms!" chanted the leadsman a few minutes later.
"'Tis well. Still keep her going as she is," ordered the captain.
The people on deck could now see the poor solitary on the beach quite
distinctly, and presently he came running down to the water's edge,
still waving his red flag; and so eager did he appear for rescue that it
seemed as though he intended to swim off to the ships, for he waded into
the sea up to his arm-pits.
"I pray Heaven that he does nothing so foolish!" murmured Roger, who
still remembered his own experience with the sharks.
The unfortunate man had no such intention, it presently appeared; yet
was he still in a sufficiently dangerous situation, for he stopped where
he was with the water up round his shoulders, and continued waving his
signal of distress.
"Five fathoms bare!" was the next report of the man with the
sounding-line.
"We can edge in even a little farther yet," remarked the captain. "But
I cannot understand," he continued, "why that man persists in acting so
strangely. He must know by this time that we have seen him and will
rescue him, yet he continues to signal with his arms and that red rag as
though he were demented. It would not greatly surprise me to find, when
we get him on board, that his brain has given way with the horror of
solitude, suffering, and privation."
"By your leave, sir, it seems very much to me," suggested Roger,
touching his hat, "as though the poor fellow were striving not so much
to attract us nearer as to warn us to keep farther away."
"Why, boy, prithee what puts that idea into your head?" retorted the
captain rather testily. "Why should he wish us to keep off? Surely if
you were in his place you would be fully as anxious as he appears to be
to have the rescuing ships approach and take you off without delay?"
"What I meant to suggest, Mr Cavendish," responded Roger rather
stiffly, and not one whit abashed by his commander's testiness, "was
that perchance this man knows the shoals and rocks round the island
well. He may perceive that we are sailing into danger, and wish to warn
us from approaching any closer before it be too late."
"Zounds, boy!" shouted Cavendish, "'fore Heaven I believe that you may
be right in your assumption!"
Then, turning to the crew: "All hands stand by to veer ship!" he cried.
But even as he spoke there was a sudden check to the vessel's way, and
almost instantly she stopped dead, the sudden shock throwing more than
one man prostrate on the deck. At the same moment the leadsman in the
chains gave his warning cry: "Three fathoms only, and shoaling fast!"
But the warning came too late, for the vessel had taken the ground,
which evidently shoaled up with great abruptness. Her fore, main, and
mizzen topmasts snapped like carrots with the sudden check to her speed,
and came tumbling down with their attendant wreckage, thus adding to the
already great confusion on deck, and, what was worse, killing two men,
whom they could ill spare, and badly injuring five others.
"You were right, Roger!" shouted the captain as he ran past the lad to
the stern of the vessel, with intent to warn the other ships from a
similar mishap. But the warning was needless, for they had been on the
lookout, and, observing the accident to their consort, had at once
hauled their wind and gone off on another tack in time to avoid a
similar fate. When at a safe distance they luffed into the wind and,
furling their canvas, came to anchor.
Cavendish, seeing that the remainder of his little squadron was safe,
ordered the wreckage to be cut adrift and the decks cleared for further
operations.
"Work away with a will, lads!" he cried encouragingly.
"The ship has taken a soft berth; she lies on the sand, and there is no
present danger of her sinking; indeed we are in much too shoal water for
that. Mr Leigh, we must get the wreckage cleared away first of all,
after which we will get out kedge anchors astern; and if these fail us
we will run out cables to the other vessels. Perchance we may thus get
ourselves off by our own hauling and the others towing. But we must all
work with a will; for, as all may see, there is in the look of the sky
every prospect of ill weather very shortly, and if it take us ashore
like this we shall lose the ship! Now, Roger, take you two hands in the
gig--I cannot spare more--and bring off that poor fellow. I would that
we had earlier understood what he meant; it would have saved us this
disaster. And hasten, lad, for I cannot spare even three of you for a
single moment longer than is absolutely necessary. Yet must I have that
man, for he may possess information of untold worth to us. And you, Mr
Leigh, will take two hands also, and go off to the other vessels. You
will acquaint them with our condition, and give them their orders to
prepare for towing, and to be ready by the moment when we can avail
ourselves of their help, for we have no time to waste."
Roger soon found his two men, and the boat was got ready and over the
side in a very few minutes; yet, quick as he had been, he perceived as
he pushed off that Mr Leigh's boat was already some distance on her way
to the other ships.
"Now, give way, men, with a will!" cried the lad, encouragingly. "You
heard what Mr Cavendish said--there is not a moment to lose if we are
to get that man off, and the ship too, ere the gale breaks. And indeed
I like not the look of the weather at all. It fast grows more
threatening, and we shall be lucky if we get back to the fleet in time.
Furthermore, I fear much that there will not be time to save the poor
old _Stag Royal_: she is, to my mind, hopelessly lost, for, if
appearance belie it not, the gale will be down on us ere they can hope
to move her off the sand; and I pray God that the poor fellows on board
her may be able to get away from her in time. Ah, the wind comes away
even now! Pull, lads, pull, or we shall be swamped ere we can get
ashore!"
As he spoke, the whole sky seemed to darken in a moment all round them;
the sea took on the appearance of dull metal and became of a livid hue.
Away on the north-western horizon the sky was black as ink, and below
that, between sky and wave, was a line of white extending athwart the
horizon, showing the forefront of the advancing gale.
"Pull, lads, pull!" again shouted Roger, raising his voice above the
deep moaning sound that filled the air everywhere about them. "Unless
we can contrive to reach the shore before that line of white, you know
what our fate will be. We shall have to wait until the gale blows over
before we can return to the ships, if indeed they survive it."
The seamen saw that what Roger said was only too true, and pulled for
dear life; but the boat was a heavy one, her full complement of oarsmen
being eight. Now, however, she had only two men pulling; they therefore
made painfully slow progress, and the white line of water seemed to be
overtaking them at a speed that filled them with despair.
Meanwhile Roger noticed that the solitary watcher on the beach had now
left the water, and was lying at full-length on the sand as though
overcome by his exertions, weakened as perhaps he was by long exposure
and privation.
The lad felt extremely anxious as to the fate of the ships, and
frequently turned his head to snatch a glimpse of what was happening
behind him. He was able to see, during his brief observations, that
boats had been lowered from the stranded ship, and from her consorts,
and were plying at their utmost speed between the wreck and the other
vessels of the squadron. It was evident to Roger that the captain,
observing the extraordinarily rapid approach of the gale, and foreseeing
that, unless a miracle were to take place, the stranded ship must be
lost, had not delayed a moment, but was transferring her crew to the
other ships as fast as he possibly could. Roger fervently prayed that
this operation of transfer might be completed ere the storm burst upon
them; but he was very doubtful, for that fatal white line of foam was
driving down upon the fleet with appalling rapidity.
But he could not relax his attention from the matter that he himself had
in hand. He could not watch what was going on behind him and also steer
the boat; so he set his teeth and gripped the tiller hard, looking
straight ahead of him in search of the best and safest spot on which to
beach his boat, for the sea was rising fast. He would have given much
to have had his bosom friend and more than brother, Harry, in the boat
with him at that moment. He could always rely on Harry's coolness and
sound clear-headed advice, and he would have felt much less anxious had
his chum been with him then.
The man on shore was now seen to stagger to his feet and to support
himself with a stick, alternately pointing out to sea and beckoning them
on. But neither Roger nor the men with him now needed anyone to remind
them of the peril in which they stood.
They were nearing the beach now, but meanwhile the sea had been rising
with almost incredible rapidity. When they left the ship the sea had
been calm, with not even a ripple lapping the beach. There had been the
proverbial calm before the storm. But now, although the gale had not
yet reached the boat, the waves were leaping up the beach in foam, and
their back-wash gave forth a roar like that of distant thunder. Roger
yearned to look behind him again, to ascertain how far away the white
squall still was, but he dared not turn his head; all his nerve and
skill and courage were now needed to enable him to beach the boat
without capsizing her. One glance at the faces of the men pulling, who
of course were sitting looking aft in the direction from which the storm
was coming, was enough to convince him that it could not be by this time
very far distant. They were now within a few fathoms of the beach, and
Roger, for the first time, dared to hope that they would reach the shore
without any mishap, when he observed his two seamen redouble their
exertions, with a look of terror on their countenances, although they
were very nearly "gastados" as the Dons say, or used up, and the next
moment, with a fearful shriek, the white squall burst in all its fury
upon the unhappy trio. The boat seemed suddenly to take wings; she was
propelled with fearful velocity towards the beach; the spindrift
whistled about them and blinded them; the shriek and roar of the wind
deafened them, and its fearful force stunned them. The seamen were
blown bodily from the thwarts into the bottom of the boat; but Roger,
clinging desperately to the gunwale with one hand, and fiercely gripping
the tiller with the other, contrived to retain his seat, and strove to
pierce the dense mist of scud-water with his eyes, that he might see to
beach the boat safely. But he could perceive nothing, and the next
moment a wave descended full upon his back, dashing him forward and out
over the bows. The tiller thus released, the boat broached to, filled,
and capsized, and her three occupants were left struggling in the water
and fighting for their lives, while the craft was flung bottom-upward on
the beach and dashed into staves by the violence of the shock. Tossed
hither and thither, to and fro, Roger strove to get his breath; but he
could not, for he seemed buried in salt water; and he was suffering all
the agonies of suffocation when his head emerged for a moment from the
water and he drew a hasty breath that seemed to put fresh strength into
his fast-failing limbs. Yet, strive against it as he would, although he
felt the beach under his feet, they were fast being dragged from under
him; he was in the clutch of the fatal undertow, and he knew that,
exhausted as he was, if he were once swept back again into deep water he
would drown, for his strength was now at an end. Summoning up all his
energy, therefore, he gave vent to a loud shout for help--although help
seemed to be the last thing he might expect at that moment--and made one
last struggle for life. But, even as his senses failed him, and he was
sinking backward in that fatal embrace, a pair of strong hands clutched
his hair and arm, and for a few seconds he felt as though, between the
sea on the one hand and a sturdy British seaman on the other, he were
being torn asunder. Presently, however, the wave receded; the awful
feeling of being sucked back left him, and, opening his eyes, he saw
that he was on terra firma, with the sea behind him. "Now run," shouted
the seaman--one Jake Irwin, who had been in the boat with him,--"run,
Master Trevose, before the next sea catches ye." At the same time he
dragged the lad up the beach with all his strength, and they reached
safety as another wave came rolling hungrily after them, to retire again
with an angry snarl, as though cheated of its lawful prey. Roger stood
up and wiped the wet from his eyes and ears, and wrung the water out of
his clothes as well as he could, and looked about him. He saw the two
seamen--one of whom had rescued him, only just in the nick of time, from
a watery grave--standing close by; and not far from them he perceived
the figure of the man whom they had come to rescue, and for whom they
had so nearly met disaster. The seamen who had rowed in the boat seemed
none the worse for their adventure, and asked the lad how he felt, and
whether he had suffered from the accident to the boat. Roger, aching in
every limb and muscle from his recent struggle in the water, felt
himself carefully over, and was able to assure them that he had broken
no bones.
The stranger now approached and spoke to them, thanking them and
applauding their bravery in coming away to save him, despite the threat
of the gale that was by this time raging furiously. The man, it
appeared, was an Englishman, and, in answer to a question put by Roger,
he confessed that, as the captain had suggested on the deck of the
flag-ship, he had been one of a crew of pirates, and, having incurred
the displeasure of his captain and the enmity of his companions, had
been marooned on the sand-bank with but a small stock of provisions and
no means of obtaining more when those were exhausted; he had been
allowed neither fishing-tackle nor musket with powder and shot, although
the latter would not have been of very much use to him, for the island
was small and so far away from the mainland that birds very seldom made
their appearance there. It appeared that he had been on the sand-bank
some thirty-six days, with the few provisions that they had been moved
to give him, and nothing else beside but the clothing he stood up in.
"But," concluded the poor fellow, who was emaciated and weak to the last
degree, "I have made a bit of a shelter to leeward of the top of this
bank; let us go there, since even it is better than nothing at all.
Your boat's smashed to pieces on the beach, and we shall be forced to
remain here until the storm blows itself out before they can send
another boat. I pray that it may not be long in doing so, for, although
there is water here in plenty, my provisions are pitifully low; in fact,
for the four of us, there is only enough for about two days with the
strictest economy. But come round to my shelter and I will make some
fire, so that you can get your clothes dried, and you will then be a bit
more comfortable."
They were turning to follow their new friend, when Roger once more cast
his eyes out to seaward, and he came to a stand-still, remaining as if
rooted to the spot. The others gazed at him for a moment in
astonishment, not knowing what had come over the lad. As they looked,
however, he raised his arm slowly and pointed to seaward; the other
three, following the direction of his outstretched arm, at once saw the
reason for the horror and despair depicted on the lad's countenance.
The flag-ship, which they had left stranded, lay broken in half by the
terrific force of the sea, and the after-part of her was now being
gradually driven shoreward, the fore-part remaining, as before, embedded
in the sand; and, worse still for the poor castaways, the remaining
three ships of the fleet had cut their cables and, setting what sail
they dared, were heading away from the island before the gale. No
wonder that Roger felt stunned with despair, as he realised that he was
actually left on an island that was nothing more than a mere sand-bank,
with three other men to bear him company, it is true, but with, between
the four, only two days' provisions, provided that they were used with
the most rigid economy!
But he was roused from his reverie by Jake's voice saying to him: "Never
worry, Master Trevose, they ships ha'n't forgotten us by no manner o'
means; but the skipper sees as how he can't take us off while this 'ere
gale lasts, so he's cut his cables and run for it. The captain have
lost one ship, and he don't want to lose any more, so he've just bore up
out of harm's way until the gale have blowed itself out. And that, sir,
with all submission, I calls good seamanship. Never you fear, sir; we
ain't forgotten; the skipper ain't the man to forget his crew, nor no
part of 'em; and as soon as this 'ere bit of a breeze is over, you'll
see they three ships come sailin' back here to this sand-bank to take us
off again. I knows Captain Cavendish, I do, and he ain't the man to
forget we's here, and sail away and leave us. We'll see 'em all back
here to-morrow, or next day at the furdest. But I'm wonderin' whether
there were any poor fellers left aboard the _Stag Royal_ when she parted
in the middle!" And old Jake Irwin looked round, shading his eyes from
the flying spindrift, to see if he could discover any trace of human
being either in the sea or washed up on the beach. But none was
visible.
"Yes, you are right, Jake," said Roger. "I forgot for the moment that
Captain Cavendish would be obliged to leave that anchorage or be blown
on shore. But the captain will, of course, return as soon as he is
able. As to there being any people aboard when the ship parted, Jake, I
think all were taken off before that happened. And now, since we can do
no more for the present, we had better go and take shelter as this man
suggests. By the way, my man, what is your name?"
"My name, sir, is William Evans," replied the marooned man.
"And mine," said Roger, "is Roger Trevose; and these two men"--pointing
to them in turn--"are Jake Irwin and Walter Bevan."
"Thank you, sir!" answered Evans. "Yonder is my shelter, and when we
reach it I will give you my history up to the present, if you care to
listen to it, for I feel that I have not much longer to live; this last
month has compassed my death, so great have been the hardships that I
have been obliged to endure. After the storm has ceased somewhat we had
better go along the beach and collect any wreckage that happens to come
ashore. And I pray Heaven that some food may be washed up, for we have
very little here to go on with!"
A few minutes later they came to the "shelter", which was merely a deep
hole dug in the sand, and roofed over with palm branches and grass,
together with a few bits of plank and timber that had been washed up on
the beach.
"Enter, sir, and fellow-seamen," said Evans, "and to such poor
hospitality as I can offer you, you are most heartily welcome."
They went in, and the man made a fire with the help of his tinder-box
and a few dry sticks that he routed out from a corner. The fire was
soon blazing merrily, and they took off their clothes and held them
before the flames to dry. Whilst this was being done, the marooned man,
whose face even now bore the imprint of death, brought a little food out
of his scanty store, and some water, and the party sat down to eat and
drink. Then, when the meal was ended, they resumed their clothes, which
were now dry, and prepared to listen to the history of the ex-pirate,
which he gave to the accompaniment of the beating of rain over their
heads, and the tumult of the gale around them.
Meanwhile Cavendish had not forgotten these poor waifs; but, having
barely contrived to clear the shore with his squadron, was now being
driven away fast to leeward of the island by the furious gale, which as
yet gave no sign of blowing itself out.