FROM HONG KONG TO SAN FRANCISCO
With a fine, fair wind, a smooth sea, a clear outlook, and every
opportunity for making a good offing before nightfall, the 'Alert'
left her anchorage near Victoria. And thus began the most remarkable
voyage of her career, and one which was soon to become the most
adventurous experienced by any member of her crew.
By those on shore no apparent notice of the departure was taken.
Some of the emigrants, however, burned a few 'joss-sticks,' and
ignited several 'crackers,' to propitiate the malignant spirits of
the deep.
Out in the open sea a strong breeze was sweeping across a wide
expanse of sparkling water, the late typhoon having cleared the
atmosphere in splendid manner. The sun shone brilliantly, the
coast-line of China soon disappeared, and as quickly as the
studding-sail gear could be rove and rigged out the canvas was set.
Captain Thorne and all hands were in high spirits at having obtained
so favourable a start for the venture. Indeed, everyone capable of
forming an accurate estimate of the run to California believed that a
record passage would be almost certain to follow, and that the
Chinamen would be landed without the slightest mishap to anyone.
Still keeping the same fair wind the 'Alert' sped across the China
Sea, and passed safely through the Bashee Channel, that lies between
the large island of Formosa and the Philippine Islands. She had now
cleared all dangers of the land, and swept into the blue depths of
the North Pacific.
The weather continued beautifully fine. All that while not a yard or
boom brace was touched, and the wind-curved sails never stirred. The
barque seemed to revel in the glorious sunlight, and 'reeled off'
daily runs that astonished Captain Thorne.
'It's grand, Master Jack,' Readyman exclaimed. 'I thought she did a
tidy bit of scooting through Torres Strait. This bout fairly knocks
the bottom out of that. I hope she'll keep on as she's going, right
up to the Golden Gates.'
'You mean the entrance to San Francisco Bay?'
'Ay, ay, my son. The pigtails keep very quiet, and the interpreter
chap seems a decent sort--for a heathen.'
'He can speak tolerable English,' Jack said; 'but no one can learn
what he really is.'
'Just their way, lad. You can never find out anything about them.
They'll smile and flourish their flippers, and in the end swindle you
with some trick kept up their sleeves. All the same, sonny, I
suppose we mustn't condemn this lot before getting good cause. Keep
your weather eye lifting all the time, lad, and directly anything
seems to go amiss with those chaps, tell the skipper.'
Day after day, the barque still sped away on a true course, and as
she got well out into deep blue water the sunrises and sunsets became
of such indescribable magnificence that even the stolid Chinamen were
compelled to notice them.
In the early mornings, long before sunrise, small cloud-balls of the
purest white ranged themselves all along the western horizon, each
apparently separated by a few inches of the loveliest blue, the azure
zenith remaining unsullied by the slightest trace of gathering
vapour, and in dazzling splendour the huge golden disc suddenly
leaped over the eastern sea-rim.
The sunsets, however, were always the most attractive spectacles.
Through a haze of gauze-like evaporation, gorgeous combinations of
pale blues, delicate emeralds, pinks, vermilions, and ruddy golds,
ocean and firmament became indistinguishable. The entire world
seemed enveloped in such a flood of tinted light as neither brush nor
pen could hope to portray. The barque and its canvas seemed aflame,
while the surging foam beneath the bow decorated itself in tiny
rainbows.
Never, surely, had men enjoyed such wonderful sailing, and still the
'Alert' raced along in grand style, until, after a fine run of
sixteen days, she had almost reached mid-ocean. The wind gradually
died away, and with canvas chafing badly against masts and rigging,
she lay wholly becalmed on a sea unruffled by the faintest cat's-paw.
Of course, everyone believed that such a delay to an otherwise
splendid run would only be of short duration, and at first no notice
was taken of the incident.
'We'll get a fine breeze directly,' Readyman observed. 'Should it
not come, I'm afraid our chance of record-breaking is gone. Anyhow,
the Chinamen have been very quiet, and that is the chief thing this
voyage.'
'We had nearly three weeks of it coming out,' Jack replied. 'I
thought I should never get rid of the prickly heat.'
Two weeks of windless inactivity, with the barque sullenly turning
her head toward every point of the horizon, were followed by another
of similar experience, and limbs ached under the constant bracing of
yards to catch the slightest breath of elusive airs. Still there was
no relief, nor the least prospect of immediate alteration of the
trying weather. As food and water had only been shipped for a stated
period, and such delay was not contemplated at that season of the
year, some talk of a reduction of rations was mooted fore and aft.
Against such a procedure the hands, of course, made no complaint, but
when the matter had been explained to the interpreter, and by him to
the Chinamen down below, they expressed strong opposition, and much
impatience at the length of the voyage.
Captain Thorne promptly took the matter in hand, collected all his
men abaft the stockade, and then directing the interpreter to call
some of the emigrants on deck he demanded a full explanation of their
grievances.
'You no gib mensh allee same food plomised at Hong Kong,' the burly
spokesman replied. 'We no get 'nough rice. You allee same cheatee
Chinaman. We no takee less rice, an' wanshee cook it dun b'low.'
'You will be no worse off than my own men,' the skipper said.
'Should this calm run into a month or six weeks, you'll run a fair
chance of having nothing at all. I only wish to be on the safe side.
Savvee?'
'You cookee no boil rice allee same China. We wanshee do it allee
same plopper.'
'There is not room for you in the galley,' the old man explained.
'You cannot cook in the 'tween deck. When a breeze comes, you shall
have plenty of rice.'
To that the spokesman made no reply, and what with the persuasion of
the interpreter and the friendly demeanour of the captain the
murmurers returned below, and the incident closed.
'They told me,' the interpreter said, 'that on coming here they did
not expect to be longer than one week at sea, and had no idea that
San Francisco was much farther than Shanghai.'
'I would take the precaution of securing the large gratings on all
the hatches,' Mr. Sennit said. 'With them on, we could keep better
watch against sudden surprise, and only allow a few men on deck at
one time.'
'Well, I've been thinking of something of that sort myself,' the
skipper replied; 'but just at present I think we had better let
matters stand as they are. The fellows might make some disturbance
about them. At the same time, Sennit, don't send any of our men
aloft. They must remain handy for a call, and let them see that all
the rifles in the forecastle are ready.'
Throughout that day the distressing calm continued, the barometer
standing so high and steady that no immediate change could be
anticipated, and on the following morning orders to reduce all
rations fore and aft were issued.
The cook was also enjoined to be particularly careful of the way in
which the rice for the emigrants was served, since from certain
samples of that article shown by the interpreter, it was evident that
the man had not been as careful in that direction as could have been
desired.
However, the Chinamen made no disturbance, and, so far as outward
appearance went, they seemed disposed to fall in with the new
arrangements. All hands went about deck softly whistling for a
breeze to end their troubles. But the outlook still remained of the
same hopeless appearance. The sea, like a silvered mirror, flung
back in dazzling brilliancy the powerful rays of an unclouded sun,
and with endless groan of seams and timbers; the barque rolled on the
windless waste of waters. The situation was fast becoming more and
more serious. The 'Alert' had been caught in a tropical entanglement
from which she could neither advance nor retire.
Then suddenly the long spell of anxiety was brought to a close, but
in such an unexpected and startling manner as to almost overwhelm
both vessel and crew.
At four o'clock one afternoon, Mr. Statten and his men took over
control of the deck. About half an hour later, one of the hands
directed attention toward a peculiar appearance just gathering far
away on the port beam.
'There might be some wind in it, sir,' he said.
Immediately afterwards everyone perceived that it was a pillar-like
cloud, apparently revolving at terrific speed on its own axis, and
also moving down on the barque at incredible velocity. That it would
assuredly strike her no one doubted, and intense excitement
immediately prevailed.
Mr. Statten sang out to let fly all studding-sail, royal, and
topgallant halyards. Even the topsails were lowered, and everything
likely to ease the strain on the masts was done.
Captain Thorne, alarmed by the sudden commotion, rushed on deck, and,
seizing the wheel, helped to place it hard up. But without wind the
barque would not answer her helm.
A moment later there was a sensible movement of the atmosphere. It
seemed as though the vessel were being sucked toward the hideous
black pillar, then not more than a cable's length away. There was an
awful roar of wind, and the impenetrable darkness became appalling.
The 'Alert' was caught by the terrible whirlwind, and she seemed to
be lifted several feet from the water. A wild jumble of sea and foam
rose up over and swept the decks fore and aft. She lay down almost
on her starboard beam-ends. Everyone hung fast to belaying-pins or
other means of safety, and in that deafening uproar no voice, or the
least sound of what was taking place, could be heard.
Then, as swiftly as it had come, the dreadful cloud swept away
eastward, and the partially dismantled vessel lay rocking on a
momentarily agitated sea. From start to finish the whole incident
did not occupy above two minutes, yet in that brief period the
'Alert' had become almost a wreck. The foremast, with the jib-boom
and all attached, was gone. Every shroud and particle of running
gear about that part of the vessel had been cut as if with an axe,
and quarter of a mile off the wreckage lay on the water.
'Are all our men safe, Statten?' were the first words uttered by the
skipper.
'I think so, sir,' the mate replied.
But from the adjacent wreckage three men, who had been carried away
on it, sang out lustily for assistance. They were soon on board
again, little the worse of their extraordinary adventure.
A careful examination of the vessel followed. She was not making any
water, and beyond the loss of the mast, which had been screwed clean
off level with the deck, and the jib-boom, no other damage was
observed.
The more the affair was considered, the more mysterious did it
appear, since not even a rope-yarn about the mainmast or farther aft
had been carried away.
'It struck her obliquely, and so saved the after sticks,' Captain
Thorne said. 'A water-spout would have sunk her.'
'Before I could grip anything,' one of the rescued men exclaimed, 'I
was lifted off my feet. On looking upward, the yards and canvas, the
latter mostly in rags, were whizzing round and round at forty knots
an hour. I thought I would have smothered. Anyhow, the whirligig
suddenly dropped me with the gear. There was a tremendous splash.
Then I saw my two mates. The next moment I thought I'd drown, but
Billy Holland dragged me on top of the lower mast. 'Twas the closest
shave I ever had.'
That was how the first of a coming breeze caught the vessel. She
immediately sheered alongside the floating spars, and with right
goodwill all hands set to work getting them on board. Tackles were
rove off and a derrick rigged.
'Bear a hand, now, Sennit,' the old man sang out 'The glass is
dropping for wind, and we may have plenty of it soon.'
Assisted by the interpreter, he got some of the emigrants to help.
Others, however, were not so disposed, and the hands jeered them.
Before nightfall all the wreckage had been secured on deck, and the
barque proceeded on her voyage.
The light wind of the evening steadily strengthened throughout the
night, and the crew never ceased their labour of repairing damages.
One of the chief causes of delay lay in the fact that the 'cap' of
the bowsprit, or the piece of wood through which the jib-boom should
pass, had been broken off; but by the ingenuity of the carpenter that
mishap was speedily rectified. The lower mast had also been badly
snapped off, but that, too, was set straight by a tongue and 'step'
which were made on it, the stump still remaining in its place.
In the refitting Jack Clewlin had his share, and gained such
experience of that duty that Readyman himself could not hope to
impart by mere verbal tuition.
All the lower and other rigging had to be shortened and then set up
taut. The upper masts, however, had received no injury, and with
their yards were soon sent aloft. The damaged sails were replaced by
others, and within a week scarcely a trace of the late accident
remained.
All hands were once more in high spirits, and as the breeze still
held strong and fair, great hopes of soon reaching San Francisco
cheered every mind. A full daily ration of food was served out fore
and aft. But the brightest anticipations of a speedy termination of
the voyage were doomed to bitter disappointment. Within a few days
the wind again failed. The Chinamen, believing that the food supply
would be reduced, immediately hastened on deck, and loudly upbraiding
the captain for bringing them all into such a position, stubbornly
expressed their determination to return to Hong Kong.
Captain Thorne, who was accompanied by the interpreter, faced them
manfully, and endeavoured to point out how he himself, and all his
crew, were greatly distressed by the unexpected delays. At the same
time he gave orders for the watch on deck to assemble behind the
stockade.
'Tell them,' he observed to the interpreter, 'that we cannot return
to China. There is no cause for anxiety.'
'You no allee same one face,' the leader of the emigrants sang out.
'One day you talkee ploper, nex' day you cheatee Chinaman, we allee
same starve. Cookee man him no good. We cookee chop-chop allee same
China dom b'low. Savvee?'
'And set my ship on fire, eh?' the old man sharply replied.
'No, no, me no fool. S'pose you go Hong Kong we likee plenty.'
At that point of the argument the interpreter endeavoured to make
matters still clearer to his countrymen; but, in spite of all
explanation and good temper, the men could not be induced to return
below.
Then suddenly the real meaning of the disturbance was made plain. A
horrible screaming, and piteous cries for assistance, came aft from
the forecastle, where some of the mutineers were evidently murdering
the watch below.
Mr. Sennit shouted on his men to come aft, but to that order there
was no reply. He then attempted to open one of the stockade gates,
and with assistance rescue the surprised hands, but Captain Thorne
peremptorily refused to allow such a step to be taken.
That action probably saved the lives of those behind the barrier.
The Chinamen made a rush at the galley, where the cook had already
secured himself, and with loaded revolver sold his life as dearly as
he could. The gallant interpreter, ignoring all danger, begged the
captain to pass him through one of the gates, and that being done he
strove to pacify the infuriated mob.
The appeal failed. The galley was surrounded and torn down, the
brave cook was killed, but not before six assailants had been shot
down, and his body was thrown overboard. The affair passed so
rapidly that there was scarcely time for consideration. The moment
the cook had disappeared the Chinamen suddenly turned on their
interpreter, and served him in similar manner.
Those abaft the stockade felt assured that their unfortunate comrades
in the forecastle had all been killed, and that opinion was
strengthened by the fact that no more cries were heard. The fore
part of the 'Alert' was, therefore, in possession of the mutineers.
Just as the mob made their first attack on the stockade one of the
watch below was suddenly seen to climb hand over hand up the fore
stay, and on reaching the top he swung himself to the main topmast
head, from whence he speedily joined his companions.
'All the others in the fo'c's'le are dead, sir!' he gasped. 'I was
asleep overhead, and hid in the bow till the cut-throats cleared out.'
'How did they get to the fo'c's'le?' the skipper inquired.
'Knocked out the fore hatch grating, sir,' the man replied. 'They've
seized all the rifles and ammunition pouches hanging on the bunk
sides.'
As fast as Mr. Statten, Jack Clewlin, and the steward could pass on
deck rifles, old muskets, revolvers, and ammunition, their friends
armed themselves, and, under the direction of Captain Thorne, took up
positions to repel attack.
Several of the Chinamen were now seen brandishing the weapons stolen
from the forecastle, and not a few also carried revolvers, which must
have been concealed in the small boxes brought on board at Hong Kong.
The mutineers, apparently confident of success, flung themselves on
the stockade, and with terrible yells endeavoured to tear it down.
The barrier, however, was so strongly constructed that no impression
was made on it, and that seemed to inflame the mob to further effort.
Meanwhile, the captain used every means to quell the disturbance
without bloodshed, and with upraised arms endeavoured to address the
leader of the Chinamen. The effort proved partly successful. Some
of the emigrants seemed inclined to hear him, and for a few minutes
both sides stood looking at each other, one hundred and thirty
desperadoes menacing a small group of white men, consisting of
Captain Thorne and his two officers, the carpenter, the steward, with
five hands, including Readyman and Jack Clewlin.
'Fight no good,' the skipper sang out. 'S'pose you allee same go
down below, me no shoot. You no savvee how to fire gun. My men
savvee plenty. When wind come you get plenty chop-chop.'
'No, no!' the big Chinaman exclaimed. 'You no speak allee same one
face. To-mollow you say half chop-chop. Me takee ship, an' go allee
same China. Savvee? Me chop you head off now. Me plenty gun, an'
shoot foreign devil.'
'S'pose you fire, me kill you,' the old man replied. 'Give me your
guns, and I takee you allee same San Francisco.'
'Me no go dere. Plenty chop-chop when you dead. Savvee?'
'You scoundrel, I'll have the lot of you tried at San Francisco!'
Captain Thorne cried.
'Let us give the ruffians a volley, and have done with it!' Mr.
Sennit exclaimed, furious at the loss of his men. 'That fellow is
trying to bluff you.'
'Very likely,' the old man returned; 'but I'm not to be caught that
way. I feel our loss as keenly as anyone, but want to show later on
that every possible means of quelling the outbreak was taken before a
shot was fired.'
'You are right, sir,' the mate said.
A final appeal to surrender and return below was howled down by the
mob.
With fearful cries they flung themselves on the stockade. Captain
Thorne, in the hope of easing the pressure on it, ordered some of his
men to thrust between the bars the long spears captured from the
savages in Torres Strait, and although Mr. Sennit strongly advised
the immediate adoption of sterner measures, the old man would not
allow a shot to be fired.
'Let them do that first,' he said.
The mutineers, apparently infuriated by the delay, tugged and
wrenched at the iron bars till everything shook again, but as nothing
gave way they began to discharge their weapons.
Only one of the sailors, a man named Clark, was slightly wounded in
the shoulder. He was advised to retire to the cabin, yet, despite
such persuasion, the brave fellow refused to leave his post, and
tying a cloth about the injury went on with his duty as though
nothing had happened. And there he remained throughout the whole of
the desperate encounter which followed the firing of the first
bullets at those abaft the stockade.