The coast of Africa, as seen from the sea, is never very prepossessing;
and the sandy spit of land, with the equally sandy bar, which obstructs
the entrance to the Zambesi at Quillimane, is no exception to the rule,
while the banks of the river are low and flat, dotted here and there
with tall cocoa-palms, and haunted by alligators. The town itself, or
rather village, for it can hardly boast of any more sounding name,
consists of a few better-class houses, one of which was owned by Dom
Assevedo, and a number of half-ruinous huts and sheds. The anchorage is
unsafe, and often untenable, while the low-lying land is a hot-bed of
fever. Outside the bar, her two anchors down, the blue peter at her
fore, and the English Union Jack floating at her gaff, rode the brig
"Halcyon." She was a rakish-looking craft, her long low black hull
rising on the waves, and showing from time to time her bright clean
copper as she rolled. Her masts raked slightly off, her sharp bows and
sides round as an apple, told the seaman at once that she must be a dry
ship, and her breadth of beam, if needed, attested the fact. Every bit
of brass work on board was as usual rubbed bright as gold, every rope
was carefully coiled down, and her decks white as snow. The "Halcyon"
would not, in fact, as she rode to her anchors off the bar at
Quillimane, have disgraced herself, even had she been, as she once was,
her Majesty's gun brig "Torch."
Sold out at a time when the system of steam was rapidly changing the
aspect of the navy, the "Torch" was nearly new. Bought by a Liverpool
firm, she had been thoroughly overhauled and fitted out for a three
years' cruise on the African coast, trading in ivory, gold dust, and
ostrich feathers.
Captain Weber, an old sailor of thirty years' standing, commanded and
partly owned her, and on such a voyage of course great latitude had been
allowed him.
His three years' trading voyage ended, and bound for the Cape, but
intending once more to touch at Delagoa Bay, he had been induced to
delay his departure in consideration of the handsome sum offered by the
Portuguese nobleman returning from his tour of inspection of the
stations on the Zambesi.
Captain Weber, as has been already mentioned, was a middle-sized stout
built man, with a reddish mahogany-coloured face, and long grey hair.
He was proud of his brig, lived for her, and believed in her
capabilities to an unlimited extent. His first-mate, Thomas Blount, was
a young man for his station in life, rather tall, and, as we have
already seen, fond of dress. The two were leaning over the bulwarks,
looking towards the land, one afternoon, three days after the events
just narrated. The crew, which was a strong one, consisting of twenty
hands, all told, were between decks.
"Our passengers should arrive this afternoon. Dom Assevedo's messenger
said so, did he not, Captain Weber?"
"Yes, and that haze to the southward and eastward tells of a blow. It
will be a foul wind for us. We must make sail before sunset, Mr
Blount."
"I think," remarked the younger man, "I see a boat crossing the bar,
there, right over that Madras fellow's stern."
"Well, I hope it may be them. We have more fever on board than I care
to see, and I hate this hot, unhealthy hole. Rouse up the watch, Mr
Blount, and heave short at once."
"Ay, ay, sir," replied the mate, touching his cap, round which ran a
narrow strip of gold lace, and moving away.
The captain remained where he was, watching the black specks, for there
were three of them, rising and falling on the waves outside Quillimane
bar. The decks of the brig were no longer deserted, and the shipping of
the capstan bars told that the orders just given were being carried out.
"Bring to, starboard cable," called the first officer from the
quarter-deck.
"Ay, ay, sir," was the ready response, for the seamen were tired of
riding at anchor off the bar, and the click of the capstan, as they
stamped round to a merry tune of the flute, was music to officers and
men alike.
"Up and down, sir," was the cry of the second mate, who on the
forecastle was superintending the duty of heaving up the anchor, and
which term meant that the brig was right over her anchor.
"Heaving away, sir," came again the cheering shout, as the anchor left
the ground and the men strained every nerve to run the heavy mass up to
the brig's bows.
The flute rang out a merrier tune, round and round went the capstan
bars, then came the second officer's loud shout of "Heaving in sight,
sir," as the men suddenly stopped in their merry round.
"Cat and fish the anchor, Mr Lowe. Bring to the port cable. Heave
short," were the brief words of command from the quarter-deck.
"All ready with the cat, sir," was the responsive shout, soon followed
by the customary words, "All ready with the fish, sir," while the men,
the starboard anchor being got on board, duly secured, or, in more
nautical terms, catted and fished, clapped on the port or remaining
anchor, which now alone held the brig, gently rolling to the swell, and
that in its turn being soon up and down, Mr Blount reported to his
superior officer.
"Do you make out the boats, sir?" he added, as Captain Weber still
remained looking towards shore.
"Ay, ay," replied the seaman. "There's Dom Assevedo's barge, the
lubberly Portuguese blowing and puffing like grampus at their oars."
"Rig out a tackle from the main yard. We shall have to hoist the lady
in, and perhaps the Dom too, like a bale of cotton."
"Ay, ay, sir," replied the mate.
"Make sail, Mr Blount; brace up the headyards. Let me know when you
are ready."
Ten minutes later the passengers were on board, and Dom Assevedo's barge
veered astern.
"It's rather hard I can't speak to my lady passenger," said Weber, as he
went down below with the party.
"Tell him I can understand English, though I am afraid to speak it,"
said Isabel in French to Hughes, who was by her side.
"Ay, ay, my pretty one, we'll soon take the shame-faced-ness out of you;
nothing like blue water for doing that. Well, you tell the Dom that
I'll send all his traps below. Senhor Assevedo, I can't give you much
law," said the old seaman, in his rough hearty tones, as he turned to
return to his post. "Steward, show the lady her berth. Look alive,
man," he continued, calling down the hatchway.
The brig was now riding at single anchor, the headyards braced up one
way, her afteryards the other, her sails flapping heavily.
"Heave away, my lads, heave away with a will," shouted Weber, the moment
his foot touched the quarter-deck, and the remaining anchor was soon
hove up, and properly stowed away on board. "Brace round the headyards.
Let fall the fore course. Take a pull at the bowlines, Mr Blount.
Touch her with the wheel, Adams, she will come up a couple of points
yet," were the rapid words of command, and the "Halcyon" moved through
the water on a taut bowline, heading nearly her course.
"A pleasant voyage to you," said Dom Assevedo, as he bent over Isabel's
hand in the cabin.
"Below there!" came in the captain's rough tones, "tell the Senhor
Assevedo that if he don't want to see the Cape, he had better get on
board his barge. The tow-rope won't hold on long, I'm thinking."
Heartily shaking hands with all, the Portuguese gentleman, whose name
and kindly nature are well known to men of every nation trading on the
Zambesi, stepped over the side, the boat's painter was cast off, a last
good bye shouted in Weber's stentorian voice, and the "Halcyon," with
all sail set, to her royals, was soon standing off the bar, the bubbles
flying past her rounded counter, as she slipped through the water at the
rate of sonde six knots an hour.
Towards sunset the wind fell, and the brig began to lose her way. The
stars came out shining through a thin haze, and sail after sail flapped
against the masts, filling for a moment, then collapsing again, until
soon the "Halcyon" lay rolling on the gentle swell, her cordage
rattling, her blocks and tackles striking against her spars and rigging,
her hull groaning, and her sails perfectly useless, not having even
steerage way.
Leaning over the bulwarks, and looking towards the land, the faint
outline of which could still be discovered about ten miles distant,
Hughes was conversing with the captain.
"You think, then, we shall have wind?" he asked.
"I am sure of it," replied Weber; "look at the double halo round the
moon, look at the sickly, watery appearance of the clouds, look at that
fog-bank away to the southward. We shall have plenty of wind before
morning."
"And from what direction?"
"Dead against us," replied the seaman; "we want to run to the south, and
the wind will blow from that quarter."
"You have a beautiful craft, Captain Weber, and one I know can show
weatherly qualities."
"Ay, ay, sir," answered the captain, slapping his hand down on the
bulwark, "I love every stick the jade carries, every rope-yarn aboard of
her; while I am at sea, she is wife and children to me. Do you hear the
wind sighing aloft? You would do well to persuade the lady to turn in."
Wyzinski, Dom Francisco, and Isabel were walking on the quarter-deck
deeply engaged in conversation, and enjoying the freshness of the night.
"I did not think I should ever look back to the Zambesi with pleasure,"
said Isabel, as Hughes joined the party; "but really, the unostentatious
hospitality we received from Senhor Assevedo will always be remembered
by me. It is a magnificent river, and I am sure must be fully half a
mile wide in some parts. The coolness of the air, too; I never thought
to see European vegetables, such as peas and cabbages, growing side by
side with the mango and banana."
"Ah, with its plains of wild cotton, which no one takes the trouble to
cultivate, its sugar-canes, indigo, and droves of splendid cattle, the
country bordering on the Zambesi might be a very rich one," said
Wyzinski.
"Which, otherwise worded, means if the colony belonged to the English
instead of the Portuguese, Senhor," tartly remarked Dom Francisco.
"Not so, Senhor de Maxara; the English in South Africa have failed in
many things, as regards colonisation, nor could I be guilty of such a
thought."
"The object of my mission is to draw up a report as to the capabilities
of the land, and I hope a new day may now dawn for the Portuguese
colonies in South Africa," said the noble. "The country is rich in
mineral products. Cattle and animals of all kinds abound in the plains,
while coal, gold, iron, and copper could be procured for the labour of
taking them," he continued; "but that is Captain Weber, is it not,
leaning over the bulwarks; will you go with me, Senhor, and serve me as
interpreter? I wish much to thank him for the arrangements he has made
for our comfort."
Hughes thus left with Dona Isabel, a silence ensued. The sails were
banging loosely in the brails, flapping against the masts, for the night
was perfectly calm, but still there was the never ceasing throb of the
ocean, causing the brig to roll lazily, the cordage and blocks to strain
and creak, the studding sail booms to rattle, and the timbers of the
stout brig herself to groan and moan.
"I was wondering, Senhora," said Hughes, breaking the silence at last,
"what made you think of a voyage to so remote a region as Africa?"
"Oh, that is easily told. My father has a long pedigree, but a cramped
estate. Our Portuguese nobility are mostly in the same position. My
mother, of the old and princely house of the Guzmans, died when I was
quite a child, and my life has been passed with an aunt, in France.
She, too, died, and the convent of the Augustine sisters was no longer a
home for me; besides, my education was finished."
"I wish it had comprised the English language, Senhora," said Hughes,
smiling.
"I wish it had, too, for I should like to talk to Captain Weber,"
replied the girl, laughing. "To continue, my father was honoured with
his present mission, and was about to refuse it on my account. It may
lead to a definite appointment, and as he never denies me anything, I
easily persuaded him to accept, and to let me accompany him."
The brig's bows had been during the last hour all round the compass, but
at that moment she lay with her head to the southward. A heavy puff of
hot wind struck her suddenly, taking her aback and giving her sternway,
the studding sail booms snapping off short in the irons, the broken ends
with their gear coming tumbling down, those of the mainyard falling on
the quarter-deck. The whole was over in an instant.
"In with the studding-sails, my lads, look alive," called the captain,
as the watch on deck busied themselves with the useless sails.
"You will excuse me, gentlemen," said Captain Weber, "that puff is but a
precursor of the wind that is to follow, and I must get the sails off
the brig."
Taking off his cap politely, the captain turned to his work, while, with
a ceremonious salute, Dom Maxara offered his arm to his daughter to
conduct her below.
"Good night, gentlemen, we shall meet again in the morning," said the
noble. A pressure of the hand, a low "Good night," a silvery toned
voice repeating the word, and Captain Hughes found himself alone, gazing
over the bulwarks into the blue sea, and thinking.
Thinking of Isabel, of course. Then she was not rich, and he was glad
of it. But why should he be glad? for he was not rich himself, and
beyond a few hundreds a year and his pay, he had nothing to boast of.
What on earth did Dona Isabel's position matter to him? A fair wind and
the brig would spread her wings. A few days and the party would
separate at the Cape, in all probability never to meet again. She was
of an ancient race, the blood of the Guzmans mantled in that blush.
Well, he, too, was of old Welsh blood, and could count kith and kin up
to the days when the Druids held their unholy rites and sacrifices on
the heights of Penmaenmawr and Snowdon, when Caswallon La Hir, his
ancestor, wandered through the forests of Caerleon and Bodysgallen, clad
in his mantle of skins. But what was that to him, and what had he to do
with the blood of the Guzmans? He would think of other matters.
Again his thoughts wandered, and, as he gazed into the blue ocean, he
called up a picture of another land. The lofty rugged mountains of
Snowdonia, the iron-bound coast, washed by the waves of the Irish
Channel, the ebbing and flowing waters of the Menai Straits, a house
which had stood the wear and tear of ages, embowered in its trees near
the beautiful Conway. Would Dona Isabel--pshaw!
"Take a pull at the larboard braces, let fly the fore and main royal
halyards. In with the canvas, my lads. Starboard the helm," shouted
the captain, as the breeze from the south struck the brig, filling her
remaining canvas, and making her heel over, as she gradually gathered
way. "Steady! so!" and the bubbles began to glide by the vessel's side,
the noise of the water slapping up against her bows, and the rattle of
the blocks and tackle, as the canvas filled, and everything drawing, the
"Halcyon," close hauled, on a taut bowline, stood her course as near as
possible.
Gradually the wind freshened, and when Hughes and Captain Weber turned
in at midnight, the "Halcyon" was working her way through the seas
crested with foam, in that peculiar jerking manner usual to vessels
close hauled; but with little cargo, and what there was light, she made
splendid weather of it, topping the great waves, or wallowing in the
trough, though, as Captain Weber emphatically observed, slapping his
hand down on the cabin hatchway, "She didn't ship an egg-spoonful of
water."
"Hands by the royal sheets and halyards. In royals. Mr Lowe, see to
the royal braces," were the words heard, as the two stepped below, about
midnight. Morning was scarcely dawning over the ocean as Captain Weber
again made his appearance on deck. According to a seaman's instinct,
his first glance was directed aloft, his second to the compass.
"Ah, I thought you would have a reef in the topsails before morning,
Blount, and I see I am right."
"We had better go about soon, Captain Weber," replied the mate; "there
is a little westing in the gale since midnight, and the brig has lain up
a couple of points."
"We will stand on until we make the coast of Madagascar, Blount; we must
have made a good deal of southing, there are no islands between us and
the coast, except `Barren Islands,' and they lie far away to the
northward."
"How's her head now, Jones?" asked the mate.
"South-east and by south, sir," replied the man at the wheel.
"Then we shall fetch Cape Saint Vincent on the Madagascar coast; and it
will have been a long leg."
It was a grand sight as the little "Halcyon" struggled through the chaos
of water. The change in the wind, slight as it was, had greatly aided
her, but the gale was gradually increasing. Overhead the heavy clouds
were flying before its fury, the long waves being an angry green, white
with foam. Far as the eye could reach, one sheet of tumbling water was
to be seen, bounded only by the horizon. No sail, not even a solitary
gull was in sight, and through this the "Halcyon" was straggling, now
rising on the foam, now falling into the bright green trough, as she
dragged her way onward through the seething ocean, under her
single-reefed topsails, foresail, fore-topmast-staysail, and
boom-mainsail.
On swept the little brig, but the gale increased in its fury after
sunrise. Towards twelve o'clock, the Senhora Isabel appeared on the
quarter-deck, whither she had been conducted by the first-mate. The men
of the watch lay close under the weather bulwarks, seeking what shelter
they could find. A good many teaspoonfuls of salt foam came dashing on
board the brig now, and even the captain was forced to allow it, as he
held on by the weather main-shrouds, and looked keenly to windward.
"What a magnificent spectacle!" exclaimed Isabel, as she gazed on the
seething ocean.
"At all events we are better here than riding with both anchors down at
Quillimane," replied the mate.
A report like the boom of a heavy gun was heard above the gale, and the
foresail was seen flying away to leeward, blown to ribbons. A heavier
blast weighed down upon the struggling brig, and before a word could be
spoken, the bolts of the futtock shrouds, drawing one after another,
with a splintering crash down came the fore-topmast with all its rigging
and hamper, dragging with it the main-topgallant mast, and carrying away
the jib-boom, the whole mass falling bodily over the side.
In an instant the watch were on their legs, and the remainder of the
crew poured on deck, speedily followed by the alarmed passengers.
The captain stood for a moment surveying the wreck, and then with the
true spirit of an old salt, accepted the situation.
"Keep her away," he shouted to the two men at the wheel; "let her go
free. Steady, my lads! Out axes and cut away the wreck. Pass the word
below for the sail-maker to send up a new foresail."
The wreck of the masts was now dragging under the brig's lee, thumping
heavily against her sides. Quick as thought the first-mate sprung
forward, and, seizing an axe, began cutting away the ropes which kept
the spars dragging after the ship. Holding on by the shrouds, the
bright steel did its work, and no longer close hauled, but running free,
the brig's motion seemed much easier. Already a portion of the wreck
was floating astern, a few ropes alone held the rest, and one by one
they were severed, when a monster wave came rolling on towards the brig.
The captain's warning voice was heard far above the roar of the winds
and waves, shouting to all to hold on. The mate alone did not hear him,
as he raised his axe to sever the last rope. The blow fell, but at the
same moment the brig plunged her bows into the green wave. Striking her
on the counter, the vessel seemed to tremble and to pause in her career,
as the green water curled over her bows and bulwarks, in one mass of
white foam, falling in tons upon her deck, and rolling away to leeward,
poured out of her scuppers. The little brig seemed pressed down into
the ocean by the enormous weight of water, and as the wave rolled aft,
there, battling with the foam, was the form of the gallant mate. Swept
from his hold, the white face rose on the wave close to the brig, and
Isabel screamed with horror as the helpless man, tossed about, like a
cork and apparently not a yard from them, came surging along, the lips
parting, and the words, "Save me! save me!" distinctly borne on the
wind.
Quick as thought, Captain Weber caught up a coil of rope; his arm was in
the act of casting it, when the mass of spars and cordage swept past.
The coil whistled through the air, it fell right over the mate's
shoulder, he clutched at it as the fore-topmast crosstrees, with the
full force of the surge, struck him from behind, and he sank like a
stone.
A cry of terror ran through the brig, all for a moment forgetting their
own danger in the horror of the scene.
"Silence, fore and aft," shouted the old captain, his grey hairs
streaming in the wind. "Heave the brig to, Mr Lowe. This is no place
for you, lady; let the steward lead you below. All danger is over."
"Land ho!" shouted one of the men forward, as Isabel disappeared down
the hatchway.
"Where away?" asked the master.
"Broad on the port bow," was the answering shout.
"It is the high land of Cape Saint Vincent," said Captain Weber, shading
his eyes, and gazing intently in the direction named.
The wind was increasing in violence, and the barometer in the captain's
cabin still falling. The brig had been kept away, and was now running
free, but the gale was increasing rapidly.
"See that the fore and main-staysails are properly bent," called the
captain.
"Ay, ay, sir," came the ready response, as his officer stepped hastily
forward.
It is always a ticklish thing to heave a vessel to when there is a heavy
sea running. The brig's sails were reduced until she was stripped to
her close-reefed main-topsails, her fore-staysail was then set, and the
two officers exchanged places, the old captain sprang forward, and
holding on by the weather fore-shrouds, gazed wistfully over the ocean,
while his mate stood near the man-at-wheel, waiting the coming order.
Sea after sea struck her, dashing the glittering spray high into the
air, and wetting the veteran sailor to the skin, as he stood anxiously
gazing over the ocean. At length a moment came when the long waves
seemed less heavy. Captain Weber seized it, and a motion of the hand
was enough.
"Down with the helm, Adams, hard down," shouted the watchful mate.
The brig flew up to the wind. "Set the main-staysail!" was the order
thundered from the quarter-deck, and steadily executed by the trained
seaman, the brig being soon hove-to under her main-topsail, fore and
main-staysails, making comparatively good weather of it, and everything
seemed to settle down into its usual order on board the little craft.
"He was a gallant fellow, and would have made a thorough seaman," said
Captain Weber, as he joined the party below, dashing the salt foam from
his eyes and hair as he spoke. "He loved the sea, and left a quiet home
to find a grave here in the Indian Ocean." Isabel seemed violently
affected by the scene which had passed before her eyes.
"His was a sailor's death, it may be ours to-morrow," continued the
captain. "Poor Blount! he was to have had command of one of his
father's ships next voyage."
"What do you think of the weather, Captain Weber?" asked Hughes, wishing
to change the theme, for Isabel was sobbing convulsively, as the thought
of the sorrowing parents came vividly before her.
"These blows seldom hold long, from the fact of their extreme violence.
Should it last we shall be jammed down on the Madagascar coast: indeed,
we cannot be far from it, for the land hereaway is low, or we should
have sighted it at daylight."
"Shall we feel the loss of our spars much?" inquired Wyzinski.
"Not so much while lying to; but our wings are nicely clipped. The
`Halcyon' has been at sea, trading on this coast, for nearly three
years, without ever having the advantage of a good overhaul, or such an
accident could never have happened."
During the whole day, however, the gale continued unabated, and the
dinner table was a neglected one by all save the captain. The party had
been so lately at sea, as to escape all sufferings from sea-sickness,
but the roar of the waves, the rattling of the ropes and blocks, the
howling of the wind, and the many noises incidental to a gale,
prevented, in a certain measure, even conversation. Every now and then
a mass of water would tumble inboard with a loud thud, as it deluged the
brig's decks and washed away to leeward. The staysails, too, as the
vessel fell into the deep trough of the angry waves, would flap with a
report like distant thunder; in a word, all the discomforts of a heavy
gale in a small vessel were making themselves felt.
Night had again set in, and in the cabin Dom Maxara sat, his head thrown
back and his eyes closed, as though asleep, while his daughter, lying on
a sofa, covered with shawls, was endeavouring to read. It was nearly
midnight, but no one thought of retiring. At the table, close under a
lamp, which was waving wildly to and fro, the captain was seated,
intently studying a government map, while Wyzinski leaned over his
shoulders in earnest conversation.
"There," said Captain Weber, as he placed a pin in the chart, "there is
just where the brig is."
"And yet it was only this morning land was sighted," observed the other.
"There exist strong currents, which have set us bodily to leeward; the
wind, too, has more westing in it, and is driving us down on the land.
It is but a question of time."
"If the wind has drawn more to the westward, could we not hold our
course!"
"As I said some time since, the brig has been three years at sea without
an overhaul. If you had asked me the same question this morning, I
should have expressed every confidence in her powers, but you saw
yourself the sticks go over the side like rotten carrots, and I should
have to carry every rag we could set to claw off this shore, for I don't
want to scud before the gale if it can be avoided."
"Many years ago," said Wyzinski, "I was one of a party of missionaries
who sailed from Delagoa Bay with the intention of forming a mission on
the island of Madagascar. The small vessel which carried us was
commanded by a man who had traded with the natives, and who knew the
coast well. He ran into a beautiful bay, all but land-locked, where we
anchored, and remained for nearly a month."
"What course did you steer after leaving Delagoa Bay--can you remember?"
Wyzinski was silent, evidently trying to recall long-past events, while
Isabel had let her book fall on to the sofa by her side, and, with her
limited stock of English, was evidently trying to catch the meaning of
the conversation. Above all came the wild roar of the waves' boiling
around them, the groaning and creaking of the ship's timbers, and the
boom of the fore-staysail as it shook in the wind.
"Our course lay north-east and by north," at length said Wyzinski, his
thoughtful face raised to the lamp, "for the first twenty-four hours."
"Good," answered Captain Weber, ruling off the course on the chart.
"There, that would carry you to somewhere about the latitude of Cape
Correnti, and then?"
"It is almost impossible for me to remember," replied the missionary;
"but to the best of my recollection it was east north-east."
The old captain bent over the chart, once more using the pencil and
ruler.
"That would bring you within a short distance of Saint Augustine's Bay,
as it is marked in this chart," said he, looking upwards at Wyzinski.
"That's it! That's the name we gave it, because the vessel was called
the `Saint Augustine!'" exclaimed the missionary.
"Can you give me any particulars about the entrance to the harbour?"
"None: we ran straight in and straight out. There are two clumps of
trees to the right on the spit of land which sweeps into the sea,
forming a natural breakwater."
"To starboard or port?" asked Weber.
"On the right as we ran in, and the vessel passed so close to the bluff
on which they stood that I could have thrown a piece of money on shore."
"What tonnage was the `Saint Augustine'? Hitherto you have called her
only a vessel."
"She was a schooner of about one hundred and fifty tons," answered
Wyzinski; "and that is all I can tell you about the matter, which is a
very melancholy one for me, as I lost a dear friend."
"Killed by the natives, I suppose? Ay, ay, they are a bad lot; but I
have a couple of guns on board, and I don't fear them. If the harbour
is what you represent it, we should lie there on an even keel, and in
forty-eight hours I could rig out a jury fore-topmast."
The captain rose, and turned to Isabel before he placed on his head the
heavy sou'-wester. "We will have you in smooth water before this time
to-morrow, my little lady," he said, as he turned.
Isabel smiled, and looked to the missionary for an explanation.
Drawing a stool to the side of the sofa, for standing was no easy
matter, so violently did the brig pitch, he explained to her exactly
what had passed.
"Oh dear, how glad I shall be!" she answered. "The noise and confusion
wear one out. I have often wished to witness a severe storm at sea, but
I shall never wish it again."
"I have been in many, but only one when the wind was more violent than
this. Fourteen vessels, large and small, were sunk in Table Bay on that
occasion."
"Did I understand you rightly that you have landed on the Madagascar
coast?"
"Yes," replied Wyzinski; "but it is a sad tale of cruelty and death."
"Would it pain you to tell it me?" asked Isabel, in her low sweet tones,
turning her dark eyes on the missionary's face, and laying her hand on
his arm.
"When we lie in Saint Augustine's Bay, and I can make myself heard
better than at present, I will do so. Try to sleep now," answered the
missionary, rising. "I am going on deck to join Captain Hughes, and
shall be very glad when morning dawns."
And it did dawn, slowly and faintly over the boiling ocean. Large
masses of dark cloud were hurrying over the sky, and chasing one another
as though in sport. To seaward the horizon was clear, and one mass of
foam-tipped waves were to be marked far as the eye could reach. Not ten
miles to leeward lay the long line of the Madagascar coast, with Cape
Saint Vincent jutting into the sea, while, with the wind blowing a heavy
gale from the west-south-west, the "Halcyon," with her diminished sail,
her foremast, main-topmast, and bowsprit standing, looked terribly shorn
of her fair proportions. The waves every now and then poured on her
decks, rolling away to leeward, and the ropes were here and there flying
loose, and streaming in the wind. A strong current must have set the
brig down bodily on to the land, and Captain Weber had made up his mind
to run for the bay which the missionary had spoken of.
On the quarter-deck, holding on to windward, stood a group of three.
Captain Weber, the missionary, and Hughes had watched through the night,
and were anxiously waiting for full daylight. Under the weather
bulwarks, wrapped in their waterproofs, with their long thick boots
poking out here and there, lay huddled the crew.
"There," said the captain, pointing to a fine bold headland just tinged
by the beams of the rising sun as it shone through a break in the
clouds, "that is Cape Saint Vincent. The land tumbles in board to the
southward and eastward, and your two clumps of trees will guide us.
Will you know the place again?"
"Everything connected with it is so stamped on my memory, that I could
draw the bay for you."
"Very well, here goes. Mr Lowe, rouse up the watch, send four men to
the wheel, set the foresail."
Mr Lowe, though second mate, now naturally took the place of the
drowned seaman. The yards, instead of being braced sharp up, were eased
off, the helm carefully tended, and under her main-topsail, foresail,
and fore-topmast-staysail, the "Halcyon," on an easy bowline, dragged
like a wounded sea-bird through the boiling waves, running parallel with
the coast. Hour after hour wore on, and all watched anxiously. The
long sandy line was now not more than five miles distant, and the tall
cocoa-nut trees could be seen plainly.
Now and then the sun would break out and light up the scene, but hour
after hour passed on, and still the gale blew furiously, while the sea,
striking the brig's counter, poured over her fore and aft. No one
quitted the deck, but now and then the captain's steward, a Malay,
popped up his head with some inquiry from below. "Tell them we shall
soon be in smooth water," shouted Captain Weber, as towards ten o'clock
the man's face appeared through the little opening.
The brig was rapidly approaching a bold headland, which bore no name on
the map. She would pass it at a distance of not more than a mile. The
chart was nailed down on the wood-work of the cabin hatchway, and was
continually consulted by both the missionary and the captain.
"I know that headland," shouted the former, placing his mouth close to
the captain's ear. "The bay lies about five miles to the southward of
it."
Slowly the brig crept up with the nameless cape. She neared it; she was
abeam, and now it lay abaft her beam, but the land once more curved
inward, and the cliffs seemed scarped down to the sea. Seizing a
telescope, and steadying himself by the hatchway, Wyzinski looked
eagerly in the direction of land.
"There," he said, "at last," handing the instrument to the captain.
"Yonder is the bay, and there stand the two clumps of cocoa-nut trees."
Captain Weber looked long and eagerly. To the southward the land
trended seaward, a lofty headland being visible. The "Halcyon" was
embayed; for in her crippled state to weather that cape with such a gale
blowing was impossible, and to anchor with that furious sea breaking on
a lee shore would be sure destruction. Saint Augustine's Bay was their
only chance now. The crippled brig dragged slowly along.
"Now, sir," shouted Captain Weber, addressing the missionary, "come with
me. Mr Lowe, send two men to lash us in the starboard fore-shrouds;
take up your position here on the break of the quarter-deck; let the men
be stationed under the weather bulwarks. See the best bower clear."
Cautioning the men at the wheel, the captain moved forward, followed by
the missionary, under the shelter of the bulwarks. It was a task of no
small difficulty to secure the two men in the fore-shrouds, the salt
brine pouring over the whole party over and over again.
"Starboard," shouted the captain. "Ease away the fore-sheets; let fly
the main-topsail; haul down the fore-staysail." The second mate gave
the necessary orders; the main-topsail yard settled down upon the cap;
the fore-staysail sheets were let fly, and the sail flapping heavily was
hauled down and secured. The rattle of the clue garnets was heard as
the foresail was nearly squared, and the brig's head payed off from the
wind.
It was a moment of great anxiety, for as she fell off the seas struck
her broadside on, but Captain Weber had watched his time. One huge
toppling wave came rushing onwards. "Hold on," shouted the captain; as
striking the brig's bulwarks it stove them in, smashing the gig, and
pouring into the waist of the vessel, hid her for a moment under the
white foam. The buoyant craft rose, turning her stern to the waves, and
feeling the full force of the foresail, dashed along straight for the
shore. "Steady, so; starboard a little; steady," shouted the captain,
as with the trumpet in his right hand, he held on with a seaman's grip
to the shrouds. His cap had blown away to leeward, and his long grey
hair was streaming on the wind, both he and the missionary having been
buried under the boiling foam, as the "Halcyon" wore round.
The sharp jerking motion of the previous day was now exchanged for one
much easier. Rising on the wave, the brig felt the full force of the
gale, and seemed about to leave her native element, as the broad sheet
of stout canvass tore her along, to sink the next moment in the deep
trough, the canvass shaking, and astern, a mighty wave curling, and
tipped with white foam, about to break on her deck, but to glide away
under her keel, as she drove madly on for land, where not half a mile
ahead lay the narrow opening to Saint Augustine's Bay.
"Keep close to the bluff crowned by the cocoa-nuts," shouted Wyzinski,
as the brig, sinking in the trough, yawed wildly to port. Onward drove
the "Halcyon." She entered the outlet; one wild roll on the surging
wave, and her fore-yard seemed to touch the bare rock; the next she ran
into a noble and nearly land-locked bay. "Port your helm; hard a-port,"
shouted the captain. "See the anchor clear." A dozen men swarmed on
the forecastle. "Brail up the foresail;" and the clue garnets rattled
as the sail was quickly furled. The brig giving a broad sheer came
sweeping round, gradually lost her way; then feeling the wind aloft,
gathered sternway. "Let go the anchor," shouted Captain Weber. "Let go
the anchor!" roared Mr Lowe, from his post on the quarter-deck. A
heavy splash followed, and the next moment the "Halcyon," her starboard
bulwarks gone for a length of two yards abaft, the forechains, the
remains of her gig swinging at the davits, her fore-topmast and jib-boom
gone, her foremast, main, and main-topmasts only standing, her
first-mate lying hundreds of fathoms deep in the salt sea, rode on an
even keel by a single anchor in Saint Augustine's Bay, the gale roaring,
and the dark masses of clouds flying over head.
Volume 2, Chapter III.