DRAWING SOUTHWARD
At four bells, ten o'clock, the wheel and the lookout were relieved,
the red and green sidelights were trimmed, and Jack took over the
remaining half of time-keeping.
The heaving of the log showed a speed of eight knots an hour, and as
the wind was only moderate such progress proved highly satisfactory.
Save one small lamp all lights in the saloon were extinguished, and
only a few remained alight down below.
Captain Thorne came on deck for a few minutes before turning in, and
all hands, save those on watch, were soon asleep.
The night passed uneventfully.
At midnight Mr. Sennit, the chief officer, and his men took over
control, but although Archer and Sorter were also called neither of
them seemed willing to leave their warm beds until fairly driven out
by the mate.
Jack and Wilton were soon asleep, yet only a few moments seemed to
have elapsed before they were again called to keep the morning watch.
Scarcely more than half awake both boys stumbled aft, and despite
their warm jackets each felt the keen winter breeze sufficiently
chilling.
'Ugh!' Wilton exclaimed, 'I thought our run down Channel was bad
enough, but this is worse. Had I known that we should be compelled
to stand watches at night, I should not have come. I'm almost sick
of the life already.'
'Perhaps Captain Thorne will put you on a homeward-bound ship,' Jack
laughingly replied; 'cheer up, lad! it is certainly quite different
from what we have been accustomed to; but, like everything else that
is strange and a little trying, you will soon get used to it. At
anyrate, it is your first spell at the bell-ringing, and I shall sit
on the companion stairs ready for a call.'
At five o'clock the cook sang out 'Coffee,' and when Jack had
swallowed his allowance Wilton was relieved.
After that matters sensibly improved.
Dawn showed eastward, the male emigrants down below turned out to
receive their daily allowances of fresh water, served by the purser,
and at six o'clock the watch began the first duty of washing the
decks fore and aft.
Assisted by a young ordinary seaman the boys were employed at filling
the saloon water tank, and at eight o'clock both went below for
breakfast.
To their astonishment all the occupants of the second cabin appeared
greatly excited, and it presently turned out that a large box, which
they had filled with certain food luxuries the ship did not supply,
had been completely emptied during the night.
'Everything was quite safe when I locked the box last night and gave
the key to that gentleman,' the perplexed steward cried, while
indicating one of the passengers.
'And I have lost my watch!' a lady exclaimed.
'And I a fine revolver!' a young man added.
The losses were immediately reported to the captain, and searching
investigation followed, but no trace of the thief could be obtained;
and it was not until the voyage out had terminated that the mystery
was cleared up.
Meanwhile, however, the unfortunate holder of the rifled box key
determined to keep watch by night, hoping to catch the miscreant
red-handed, and in that effort he was joined by the young man who had
lost the revolver.
Both accordingly secreted themselves beneath the cabin table, but it
was not long before another 'detective' of the watch on deck
discovered them. The finder calling his mates, the crew set on their
victims with such zeal that the whole ship was aroused, and much
commotion ensued.
Some of the alarmed people cried 'Fire!' while others declared that
the clipper had been in collision with a passing vessel, and it was
with great difficulty that order was restored.
The 'Silver Crown' made steady progress southward. The breeze
remained favourable, and the temperature slowly rose.
The Bay of Biscay was left far astern, and within a week the latitude
of Madeira was reached.
There the first breath of the steady north-east trade wind was felt,
and as it strengthened, all the topmast and topgallant studding-sail
booms were sent aloft, and their gear was rove. The canvas was also
'bent,' or fastened to the yards, and to the ever-cheery sea chanty:
'What shall we do with the drunken sailor,
Early in the morning?
Put him in the tar pot till he gets sober,
Early in the morning,'
many young Irish emigrants seized the halyards, and with right good
will tugged at them like horses. Ropes and patent blocks hummed to
the strain. In great balloon-like clouds the studding-sails, far
beyond the standing yardarms, swelled out magnificently in the fresh
breeze.
Mr. Statten sang out 'Belay'; tacks and sheets were hauled taut, and,
with two knots an hour added to the pace, the beautiful ship raced
along like a yacht, with her head ever pointing southward.
The weather had now become delightful. The keen northern winds had
disappeared, all day long a brilliant and unclouded sun filled ocean
and sky with increasing warmth. All manner of amusements were now
devised by the passengers to while away the long hours of daylight,
and although most of the games proved very popular, none seemed to
take such permanent hold as the 'evening concerts' given by the watch
on deck when 'sucking the bilges dry' at the close of each day.
As many people as could find room at the pump brakes always assisted
the sailors, yet none of the old sea songs ever proved so
entertaining as one that was composed by the ship's poet, a young
ordinary seaman, the first three verses of it being now made public.
The song was named--
THE VOYAGE OF THE 'SILVER CROWN'
I
The 'Silver Crown' is our ship's name,
To Queensland she is bound,
With twice two hundred passengers
To cultivate the ground.
II
At early morn the purser cries,
'Fresh water, down below!'
With pots and pans men tumble up
To catch the limpid flow.
III
At eight o'clock it's breakfast time,
And then the fun begins,
To see the passengers all round
The galley with their tins.'