_Night, and Storm, and Darkness.--The giddy Perch.--The trembling
Ship.--The quivering Masts.--A Time of Terror.--Silence and
Despair.--A Ray of Hope.--Subsidence of Wind ami Wave.--Descent of the
Boys.--Sufferings of Pat.--In the Mizzen-top.--Vigil of Bart.--The Sound
of the Surf.--The Rift in the Cloud.--Land near.--The white Line of
Breakers.--The black Face of Solomon.--All explained.--The Boat and the
Oars.--The friendly Cove.--Land at last._
NIGHT, and storm, and darkness! There, in their giddy perch in the
mizzen-top, stood that despairing little band. Gradually all the scene
was lost to view in thick darkness. But beneath, the ship tossed and
pitched wildly, groaning and creaking as before, and the big waves beat
in fury on her bows, or fell in thunder on her quarter-deck. Looking
down, they saw the phosphorescent gleam of the boiling waters, which
made all the extent of the ship luminous with a baleful lustre, and wide
over the seas extended the same glow. Well it was for them that they had
sought this place of retreat, or rather that this place of retreat had
been left open to them, for clinging to the rigging would have exhausted
their strength, and through those long hours more than one might have
fallen into the sea. But as it was they could have something like rest,
and, by changing their positions, find relief for their wearied frames.
Yet this place had its own terrors, which were fully equal to any
others. The wind howled fearfully through the rigging, and as the ship
pitched and tossed, the mast strained and quivered in unison. Often and
often it seemed to them that the strained mast would suddenly snap and
go over the side, or, if not, that in its violent jerks it might hurl
them all over to destruction. More than once they thought of guarding
against this last danger by following Pat’s example, and binding
themselves to the rigging; but they were deterred from this by the
fear of the mast falling, in which case they, too, would be helpless.
Fortunate it was for them that there were no sails. These had long since
been rent away; but had they been here now, or had the wind taken any
stronger hold of the masts, they must have gone by the board.
Often and often, as some larger wave than usual struck the ship, the
feeling came that all was over, and that now, at last, her break-up was
beginning; often and often, as she sank far down, and the waters rolled
over her quarter, and held her there, the fear came to them that at last
her hour had come--that she was sinking; and with this fear they looked
down, expecting to see the waters rise to where they were standing.
And then, in every one of these moments of deadly fear, they raised, as
before, their cries to Him who is able to save.
So passed away hour after hour, until the duration of time seemed
endless, and it was to all of them as though they had spent days in
their place of peril, instead of hours only.
At length they became sensible of a diminution in the power of the wind.
At first they hardly dared to believe it, but after a time it became
fully evident that such was the case. The cessation of the wind at once
relieved the ship very materially, though the sea was still high, and
the waters below relaxed but little from their rage. But the cessation
of the wind filled them all with hope, and they now awaited, with
something like firmness, the subsidence of the waves.
That subsidence did come, and was gradually evident. It was slow, yet
it was perceptible. They first became aware that those giant waves
no longer fell in thunder upon the quarter-deck, and that the ship no
longer seemed to be dragged down into those deep, watery abysses into
which they had formerly seemed to be descending.
“There’s no mistake about it, boys,” said Bruce at length, in tones that
were tremulous with fervent joy; “the storm is going down.”
This was the first word that had been spoken for hours, and the sound
of these spoken words itself brought joy to all hearts. The spell was
broken. The horror vanished utterly from their souls.
“Yes,” cried Bart, in tones as tremulous as those of Bruce, and from the
same cause,--“yes, the worst is over!”
“I don’t mind this pitching,” said Tom; “it seems familiar. I think
to-night has been equal to my night in the Bay of Fundy--only it hasn’t
been so long, and it’s seemed better to have you fellows with me than
being alone.”
“I had a hard time in the woods,” said Phil, “but this has been quite
equal to it.”
“Pat,” said Arthur, “you’ve been doing the mummy long enough. You’d
better untie now, and lie down.”
“Sure an it’s meself that’ll be the proud lad to do that same,” said
Pat, “for it’s fairly achin I am all over, so it is.”
With these words Pat tried to unbind himself. But this was not so easy.
He had been leaning his whole weight against the ropes, and his hands
were quite numb. The other boys had to help him. This was a work of
some difficulty, but it was accomplished at last, and poor Pat sank down
groaning, and he never ceased to sigh and groan till morning.
Several hours now passed. The sea subsided steadily, until at length
its motion was comparatively trifling, not more than enough to cause a
perpendicular pitch to the ship of a few feet, and to send a few waves
occasionally over the deck. Wearied and worn out, the boys determined to
descend to the quarter-deck, so as to lie down. Pat was unable to make
the descent; so Bart remained with him, and curled himself up alongside
of him on the mizzen-top. The other boys went down, and Solomon also.
Everything there was wet, but as the boys also were saturated, it made
but little difference. They flung themselves down anywhere, and soon
were fast asleep.
But in the main-top Pat was groaning in his pain. The blood was rushing
back into his benumbed limbs, and causing exquisite suffering. Bart
tried to soothe him, and rubbed and chafed his arms and hands and feet
and legs for hours.
At last Pat grew easier, though still suffering somewhat from pricking
sensations in his arms and legs, and Bart was allowed to rest from his
labors.
And now, as Bart leaned back, he became aware of a very peculiar sound,
which excited all his attention.
It was a droning sound, with a deep, swelling cadence, and not long in
duration; but it rose, and pealed forth, and died away, to be followed
by other sounds precisely similar--regular, recurrent, and sounding all
abroad. It was nothing like the roar of the waves, nor the singing of
the wind through the rigging; it was something different from these, yet
in this darkness, and to this listener, not less terrible.
Bart knew it. The sound was familiar to his ears. There was only one
sound in Nature of that character, nor could it be imitated by any
other. It was the long sound of the surf falling upon the shore.
The surf!
What did that mean?
It meant that land was near. And what land?
There was only one land that this could tell of--it was that land which
they had been approaching for days; the land which they had watched
so closely all the previous day, and to which at evening they had been
drawn so near. The name of the land he could not know, but he had seen
it, and he remembered its drear and desolate aspect, its iron-bound
shores, its desert forests. It was upon this shore that the surf was
beating which now he heard, and the loudness of that sound told him how
near it must be.
It seemed to him that it could not be more than half a mile away at the
farthest.
And the ship was drifting on!
This first discovery was a renewal of his despair. He could only find
comfort in the thought that the sea had subsided so greatly. What ought
he now to do?
Ought he to awake the boys and tell them? He hesitated.
Pat had by this time fallen asleep, worn out with weariness and pain.
Bart had not the heart to wake him just yet.
Suddenly there was an opening in the sky overhead, and through a rift in
the clouds the moon beamed forth. Bart started up and looked all around.
The morn disclosed the scene.
The sea had grown much calmer, and the waves that now tossed about their
spray over its surface were as nothing compared to those which had beat
upon the ship during the night. This was probably due, as Bart thought,
to the shelter of some headland which acted as a breakwater. For as he
looked he saw the land now full before him. He had conjectured rightly
from the sound of the surf, and he now saw that this land could not be
much more than a half mile away.
This confirmation of his worst fears overcame him. He started to his
feet, and stood clinging to the rigging, and looking at the land.
How near! how fearfully near! And every moment was drawing the ship
nearer. And what sort of a shore was that? Was it all rocky, or was it
smooth sand? The waves were high enough there to create a tremendous
surf. Did that surf fall on breakers, or did it fall on some gentle
beach? This he could not tell. In vain he strained his eyes. He could
see the white line of foaming surf, and beyond this the dark hills, or
cliffs, but more than this he could make out nothing definite. But the
shore was so near that their fate could not be very long delayed, and
he determined to wake the boys at once, leaving Pat to sleep a little
longer.
With this intention he prepared to descend. But scarce had he put one
foot over, when he saw a shadowy figure close by.
“Mas’r Bart,” said a voice.
It was Solomon.
“I see you a movin about, an I jes thought I’d come up to see how you
was a gittin along,” said Solomon.
“Did you see the land?” asked Bart, in agitated tones.
“De lan! Sartin sure--seen it dese four hours. Ben a watchin it ebber so
long.”
“What! Why didn’t you wake us before?”
“Wake you? Not me. What de use ob dat ar? I ben kine o’ watchin, an kine
o’ canterin round all de time, seein dat de tings are all straight; an
I got de galley stove in prime order, an if youns don’t get de bes
breakfas you ebber eat, den I’m a useless ole nigga. Sho, now; go away.
Leab tings to me, I tell you.”
“Breakfast!” cried Bart, in amazement. “Why, we’ll drift ashore in a few
minutes. Don’t you see how near we are? What shall we do? Is the boat
gone?”
Solomon put his head back for a few minutes, and chuckled to himself in
a kind of ecstasy.
“De boat? O, yes, de boat’s all right. Held on tight as a drum--de boat
an de galley stove.”
“O, then,” said Bart, “come, let’s wake the boys, and get her out at
once. It isn’t too rough for her here. We must get some pieces of wood
for paddles.”
“O, dere’s lashins ob time; neber you mind,” said Solomon. “You jes lie
down an finish your nap, an leab de res to me.”
“But we’re drifting ashore. In a quarter of an hour we’ll be among the
breakers.”
“O, no, Mas’r Bart; not in a good many quarter ob an hours.”
“But the shore’s only half a mile away.”
“I know it,” said Solomon; “an it’s ben jes dat, ar distums off for de
las four hour an more.”
“What!”
“Dat’s so. I ben a watchin. Hadn’t I tole you dat ar?”
“But the ship’s afloat. She isn’t aground. She must be drifting in.”
“Dat ar conclusium don’t foller as a nessary suc-cumstance,” said
Solomon, with dignity.
“Why, what prevents her from drifting?” asked Bart, in a puzzle..
“De simplest ting in de world,” said Solomon--“her anchor.”
“Her anchor! O,” cried Bart, as a flood of light burst in upon his mind,
and dispelled all the darkness of his despair; “her anchor! O, I begin
to understand.”
“Tell you what,” said Solomon; “when I fust heard dat ar surf I was in a
quandary, mind I tell you. Gib all up. Was jes about to rouse youns.
But fust an foremost I went to see about de boat. Found dat all right
an tight. Den I got a belayum pin an tored off some strips ob wood for
paddles. Den I waited to see how we was a goin. Well, arter waitin for
ebber so long, de surf didn’t get any nearer. Tell you what; dat ar
succumstance puzzled dis old nigga’s head considdable. Sudden a idee
popped into me. I ran forad, an sure enough I found de ship’s head off
from de sho, an felt de anchor chain standin out stiff. Den I knew
de anchor had caught, and had fetched her up all right in dis yer
identicull place an po--sitium; an so, Mas’r Bart, here we air, anchored
hard an fast, de boat all right an tight, de paddles ready, de galley
stove ready too, an de prospek afore all ob us ob a fus’-rate breakfas
to ward us for all de per’ls an clamties ob de night.”
Some further inquiries followed from Bart, which served to assure him
still more of Solomon’s vigilance; and the result was, that after a time
he resumed his place beside Pat in the mizzen-top, and, curling himself
up, was soon sound asleep. It was not a very luxurious sleeping-place,
but it was at least as soft as the deck below, where the boys had flung
themselves, and it was also a trifle dryer.
When Bart awoke it was broad day. Pat was gone. He had awaked, and,
finding himself all right again, and seeing the land close by, he had
descended to the deck to talk to Solomon. For his first thought had been
a very natural one, namely, that the ship was going ashore; and seeing
Solomon placidly moving about below, he had gone down to find out what
it all meant. Of course his fears were soon dispelled.
The rest of the boys waked at about the same time that Bart did, and he
soon rejoined them below. The smell of broiled ham was wafted over the
ship. Great was the wonder of Bruce, Arthur, Tom, and Phil at their
present situation, and even greater was their wonder at seeing the
repast which Solomon had already spread out upon the quarter-deck.
For Solomon had been working like a beaver.
He had forced open the cabin door, and let out all the water. He had
then obtained some coal, which, though wet, burned merrily in the galley
stove, and had found the cooking utensils, which he had fortunately
conveyed to the cabin when he had first been driven from the galley.
The biscuit were, of course, soaked and saturated with salt water; but
Solomon declared that they were made to be soaked before cooking, and
that the salt water was “jes as good as fresh--ebry mite.” So he fried
these in butter, and sprinkled over them some pepper, which was in the
sea-chest, and which, with all the other contents of the chest, had not
been injured. Ham, and toasted cheese, and potted meats, and tea and
coffee, together with other articles too numerous to mention, formed
the breakfast; and it is scarce necessary to say that the boys did full
justice to it.
After breakfast they began to consider what next they should do. The
land was close by, about half a mile away. The line of coast extended
far away towards the left, but on the right it ended in a headland. The
sea was very quiet, but on the shore before them there was a heavy surf,
the result of the past storm. They saw farther away to the left a smooth
beach, where a landing might be easily effected, and another place
towards the right where there was very little surf. This last seemed the
best place for attempting a landing.
The shore was not very attractive. In some places rocky cliffs arose,
crowned at the summit with spruce and birch; in other places there were
slopes covered with the same sort of trees. There was no sign whatever
of any house, or of any cultivation, or of any pasture land, or of any
clearing. The forest seemed unbroken.
The boys were now as ignorant of the country as they had been when they
first saw it. Each still held the same opinion which he had announced
before.
Phil thought that it was Newfoundland.
Tom, that it was Prince Edward’s Island.
Bart, that it was some part of Nova Scotia, or Cape Breton.
Pat, that it was the Magdalen Islands.
Bruce, that it was the coast of New Brunswick, somewhere near the
Miramichi.
And Arthur, that it was Gaspé, not far from the Bay de Chaleur.
Thus, although this particular spot seemed desolate enough, no one gave
any thought to that, for they all supposed that inhabitants could be
found within no very great distance. .
After some deliberation, it was at length concluded to go ashore.
The strips of wood which Solomon had already, with wise forethought,
procured, were easily shaped into very respectable paddles by means of a
hatchet and a knife.
They then determined to secure themselves from want while ashore, and
this they did by putting into the boat one of the barrels of biscuit and
the chest of provisions.
Then they all embarked and pulled away. They paddled along without
difficulty towards the beach on the right, where the surf seemed less.
On approaching this, they found a cove formed by a gully among the
hills, and at one end there were grassy banks, near which a stream of
fresh water flowed into the sea.
Here they landed.