The night was now coming on; the rolling waves changed from the yellow
tinge given by the sand to green, and then to purple: at last all was
black except the white foaming breakers.
Exhausted with fatigue, it had not been dark more than two hours, when I
felt an irresistible desire to sleep, and I have no doubt that I did
slumber in this position, half in and half out of the water, for some
time; for when I was roused up by losing my balance, I looked above and
perceived that the sky was clear, and the stars shining brightly. I
then looked around me, and it was evident that the water was not so
agitated as it had been; the wind too had subsided; its roaring had
ceased, although it still whistled strong.
"Cross!" said I.
"Here I am, Captain Keene, close under your lee."
"The gale is broke; we shall have fair weather before the morning."
"Yes, sir; I have thought so some time."
"Thank God for His mercy; we must trust that He will not leave us here
to perish miserably."
"No, I hope not," replied Cross; "let us trust in Him, but I confess I
see but little chance."
"So have many others, yet they have been saved, Cross."
"Very true, sir," replied he: "I wish it was daylight."
We had, however, three or four hours to wait; but during that time the
wind gradually subsided, and then went down to a light and fitful
breeze. At dawn of day the mast rose and fell with the swell of the
sea, which still heaved after the late commotion, but without any run in
any particular direction, for it was now calm. I had been sitting on
the mast with my back against the futtock-shrouds; I now rose up with
difficulty, for I was sorely bruised, and stood upon the mast clear from
the water, to look around me. About thirty yards from us was the wreck
of the foremast with many men clinging to it. The mizen-mast had broken
adrift. The fore part of the frigate was several feet above water, and
the bowsprit steeved in the air; of the after part there were but three
or four broken timbers to be seen clear of the water, so deep had it
been buried in the sand.
Cross had risen on his feet, and was standing by me, when we were hailed
from the wreck of the fore-mast, "Main-mast, ahoy!"
"Halloo!" replied Cross.
"Have you got the captain on board?"
"Yes," replied Bob; "all alive and hearty;" a faint huzzah which was the
return, affected me sensibly. That my men should think of me when in
such a position was soothing to my feelings; but as I looked at them on
the other mast and those around me, and calculated that there could not
be more than forty men left out of such a noble ship's company, I could
have wept. But it was time for action: "Cross," said I, "now that it is
calm, I think we shall be better on the fore part of the frigate than
here, half in and half out of water. The forecastle is still remaining,
and the weather bulwarks will shelter the men; besides if any vessels
should come in sight, we should more easily be able to make signals and
to attract their attention."
"Very true, sir," replied Cross; "and as there are many men here who
cannot hold on much longer, we must try if we cannot haul them on board.
Do you feel strong enough to swim to the wreck?"
"Yes, quite, Cross."
"Then we'll start together, sir, and see how matters are."
I dropped into the sea, followed by Cross; and as the distance from us
was not forty yards, we soon gained the wreck of the fore part of the
frigate; the lee gunnel was just above the water; we clambered over it,
and found the deck still whole; the weather portion as white as snow,
and quite dry: we gained the weather bulwarks, and looked in the offing
in case there should be any vessel, but we could see nothing.
"Now, sir, we had better hail, and tell all those who can swim to come
to us."
We did so, and six men from the main-mast and nine from the fore-mast
soon joined us.
"Now, my lads," said I, "we must look after those who cannot get here,
and try to save them. Get all the ends of ropes from the belaying pins,
bend them on one to another, and then we will return and make the men
fast, and you shall haul them on board."
This was soon done; Cross and I took the end in our hands, and swam back
to the main-mast. One of the top-men, with a broken, arm was the first
that was made fast, and, when the signal was given, hauled through the
water to the wreck; six or seven more followed in succession. Two men
swam back every time with the rope and accompanied those who were hauled
on board, that they might not sink. There were many more hanging to
different parts of the main-mast, but on examination they were found to
be quite dead. We sent on board all that showed any symptoms of life,
and then we swam to the fore-mast, and assisted those who were hanging
to it. In about two hours our task was completed, and we mustered
twenty-six men on the wreck.
We were glad to shelter ourselves under the bulwark, where we all lay
huddled up together; before noon, most of the poor fellows had forgotten
their sufferings in a sound sleep. Cross, I, and the man with the
broken arm, were the only three awake; the latter was in too much pain
to find repose, and, moreover, suffered from extreme thirst.
A breeze now sprang up from the southward, which cheered our spirits, as
without wind there was little chance of receiving any assistance. Night
again came on, and the men still slept. Cross and I laid down, and were
glad to follow their example: the night was cold, and when we lay down
we did not yet feel much from hunger or thirst; but when the morning
dawned we woke in suffering, not from hunger, but from thirst.
Everybody cried out for water. I told the men that talking would only
make them feel it more, and advised them to put their shirt sleeves in
their mouths, and suck them; and then I climbed upon the bulwarks to see
if there was anything in sight. I knew that the greatest chance was
that the cutter would be looking after us; but, at the same time, it was
not yet likely that she would come so near to the sands.
I had been an hour on the gunnel, when Cross came up to me. "It's
banking up, sir to the southward: I hope we are not going to have any
more bad weather."
"I have no fear of a gale, although we may have thick weather," replied
I; "that would be almost as bad for us, as we should perish on the wreck
before we are discovered."
"I am going to lower myself down into the galley, Captain Keene, to see
if I can find anything."
"I fear you will not be successful," replied I, "for the coppers and
ranges are all carried away."
"I know that, sir; but I have been thinking of the cook's closet we had
built up above the bowsprit. I know that he used to stow away many
things there, and perhaps there may be something. I believe the
shortest way will be to go to leeward, and swim round to it."
Cross then left me, and I continued to look out. About an hour
afterwards he returned, and told me that he had easily opened it with
his knife, and had found eight or nine pounds of raw potatoes, and a
bucketful of slush. "We are not hungry enough to eat this now, sir; but
there is enough to keep the life in us all for three or four days at
least; that is, if we could get water, and I expect we shall feel the
want of that dreadfully in a short time. I would give a great deal if I
could only find a drop to give that poor fellow Anderson, with his
broken arm; it is terribly swelled, and he must suffer very much."
"Did you find anything in the closet to put water into, Cross; in case
we should get any?"
"Yes; there's two or three kids, and some small breakers, Captain
Keene."
"Well, then, you had better get them ready; for those clouds rise so
fast, that we may have rain before morning, and if so, we must not lose
the chance."
"Why, it does look like rain, sir," replied Cross. "I'll take one or
two of the men with me, to assist in getting them up."
I watched the horizon till night again set in. We were all very faint
and distressed for water, and the cool of the evening somewhat relieved
us; the breeze, too, was fresh. The men had remained quietly in the
shade as I had advised them; but, although patient, they evidently
suffered much. Once more we all attempted to forget ourselves in
repose. I was soundly asleep, when I was woke up by Cross.
"Captain Keene, it is raining, and it will soon rain much harder; now,
if you will order the men, they will soon collect water enough."
"Call them up immediately, Cross; we must not lose this providential
succour. It may save all our lives."
The men were soon on the alert: the rain came down in a steady shower;
and as soon as they were wet through, they took off their shirts, and
dabbling them into the water as it ran down to leeward, squeezed it out
into their mouths, until their wants were satisfied, and then, under the
direction of Cross, commenced filling the three breakers and four tubs
which had been brought up. They had time to fill them, and to spare,
for the rain continued till the morning. The tubs and breakers were
securely slung under the fore-bitts for future use, and they then
continued to drink till they could drink no more.